#but for real though. worst part is being exhausted but not being able to stay asleep

[mostly-natm]

Run down the list of COVID-19 vaccine side effects, and I’ve got them all, baby. 😎💛✨

[plethorawrites]

(A/N I had a complete breakdown today, after weeks of suppressed exhaustion and frustration about personal stuff, so yeah, a good 45 minutes of crying did some good but I'm not writing very much right now because I just feel really terrible emotionally. It's hard to write when you feel like you absolutely suck at it. Anyway, sorry for rambling.)

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I like to think Jason Todd has some freak side effect from the Lazarus Pit and can't get sick from normal things like colds or strep, etc.

So, whenever you get sick, he's not only getting you whatever you need, he's also cuddling you in bed or on the couch when you're shivering and clammy from the flu because he doesn't have to worry about catching it.

That's always the worst part, I think. The isolation of being sick and having to stay away from everyone until you're no longer contagious.

So, for him to be there as you switch between being too hot and cold, is a luxury.

He's able to hold you while you're freezing and lay next to you gently running a cold towel down your arms when you're sweating from the fever unlike most people who would be locking you in the bedroom or staying at a hotel until you're feeling better.

Even though you don't fully believe him when he claims he'll never get sick (Maybe it's a real side effect or maybe an elaborate story he makes up so you'll let him be near you when you're not feeling well) you don't fight him very hard on it because it's nice to have him stay home all the day and night with you for a change, not worrying about anything else but your health.

[starfxkrinc]

ode to eaters - devoured

for those who don't know, ode to eaters is my bones and all au set in the 80s following eater!reader and human!jj as they traverse the south to escape rafe cameron. i haven't touched her in a while despite this au being very dear to me. dedicated to it's #1 fan @nemesyaaa

no matter how far you got, rafe was close behind. you could smell him--that tinny metallic smell of sweat and cocaine. you could scrub your skin raw, bury your face in jj's clothes, huff gasoline until you were dizzy. it was still there, drifting in the wind.

he was close, of course he was. rafe would stop at nothing to bring you back and reduce you to that half feral animal you were when jj found you. so you had to keep moving, the carolinas were far behind you, now you were somewhere in shreveport finding your way deeper in the bayous until you were alone.

somewhat. the old shack you and jj found was too alive. despite it's abandoned appearance the food was fresh, cabinets dusted. someone was living here.

"what other choice we got? need a few days for me to work on the truck, ain't no point in jacking a new one, not right now. it's too hot." that's how jj justified himself, and you couldn't argue. plus you were exhausted, so was he. the craters under his eyes were so black they were purple, and it gave his blue eyes a haunted look.

you wonder if that's how you look to him.

so you stayed, even though you were starving. and you began to pace over jj's sleeping form like a wild animal. too often he woke up to you on top of him, nosing at his pulse as you drooled. whoever said humans don't crave flesh was a liar. because the only way you could sate yourself these days was by sucking on his pulse point until it throbbed.

pretty soon you'd start gnawing at your own arm.

it'd never been this bad before, you used to be able to just be a person, but so many years alone has made you insatiable. being able to eat whenever, wherever spoiled you.

the worst of it came after two weeks of stagnation. jj can only work so fast by stealing parts, and deep in your gut you knew rafe was close.

and there was somebody else.

not an eater, like you and rafe. a veg.....only not. a veg who eats.

like jj.

and he stunk to high heavens. something rich and fatty, coated in damp soil. rafe has someone with him. and he's even closer.

when you told jj you could tell it freaked him out, he got antsy, started leaving for longer stretches of time even though you told him not to.

"you want us to get the fuck outta here? well i need to work, do somethin'. you just gotta trust i won't leave you."

every day you watched him walk out that door, and you tried not to let the smell of him get muddled up with everyone else. salt, weed, something warm and spicy tangled underneath.

as long as you could smell him you calmed, well enough to sleep through the day until he came back.

then you woke up and it was gone. your nose clogged up with that fatty-oily smell. someone was in the house.

someone was in the room.

you couldn't so much as scream before he was on you, drenched in sweat so bad his wifebeater clung to his tan skin, greasy dark hair curtaining his face. all you could see was the glint of a gold tooth.

"shit, i see why rafe's drug me across the mason-dixon lookin for you. you're a pretty thing aintcha?"

clawing and kicking you did your best to fight him off but he was too big. he dug his nails into your throat as he tied you up with one hand, and leaned in close "lucky i don't feel like steppin on no toes, baby boy's been real strict about finding his favorite toy."

his voice was muffled from the adrenaline coursing through you, but you knew that accent. it was the same one you heard from rooms away when rafe kept you barricaded in his sister's old room. it was similar to the one jj had--thick, sitting just in the back of his throat.

he was too close, your hands were tied. and you were so. fucking. hungry.

you latched onto his nose, feeling the cartilage crumble between your teeth as hot, tangy blood filled your mouth.

he screamed, "fuckin' bitch! fuck rafe, i'm getting my share now."

this was how you were gonna die. hogtied chewing on his nose like a pig's ear. you laughed, high and maniacal as he cut your shorts off. his blood poured into your open mouth as he choked your harder. jj was gonna find you, a bloody, fucked open mess. you laughed harder.

then it was back, that sea salty smell. and you saw him out the corner of your eye, jaw set and eyes crazed.

yeah, whoever said humans don't crave flesh was a massive liar.

because it only took a second, and the man on top of you didn't even see it coming when jj slammed the hunting knife into his neck. you were drenched in even more blood when he yanked it out, grabbing him by his ponytail onto the floor.

you sat up gasping, watching as the jj slammed the knife into him over and over until his head was barely hanging onto the rest of his body. he was so covered in blood his blonde hair was tinted red, and all you could see of his face were his eyes.

finally he stopped, panting and shaking as he turned to you and nodded towards the mutilated corpse under him.

"y'hungry?"

[chelseachilly]

tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

-

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far. 

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you. 

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player. 

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls. 

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.” 

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him. 

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up. 

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people. 

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.” 

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away. 

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes. 

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles. 

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night. 

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

-

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment. 

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came. 

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner. 

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?” 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating. 

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse. 

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words. 

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly. 

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash. 

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner. 

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side. 

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head. 

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest. 

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two. 

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back. 

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time. 

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?” 

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought. 

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing. 

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. 

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug. 

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more. 

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations. 

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table. 

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended. 

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real. 

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles. 

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible. 

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms. 

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom. 

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears. 

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?” 

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf. 

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever. 

Which means your guilt does, too. 

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him. 

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it. 

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest. 

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…” 

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.” 

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday. 

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear. 

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm. 

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember. 

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. “For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest. 

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed. 

You sleep better than you have in months.

please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this or send me an ask just to chat, love hearing from all of you xx

[ultred]

when you can’t persist in the new story through negative circumstances & react negatively to the 3d.

this is something i struggle with sometimes ngl. persistence isn’t that hard for me, but sometimes my circumstances can make it a bit difficult and i end up reacting negatively or doing something that contradicts my manifestation. here is how i deal with it.

1) if i can’t deny the negative circumstances, i tell myself that they’re leading me to my desires. even if i’m put in the worst situations i can possibly think of, i tell myself that they’re part of the unfolding and that everything is working out in my favor. just like when you order something and some complications happen. you know that eventually these complications will be resolved and your order will arrive regardless. when i am unable to mentally persist in the new story, that’s what i focus on. i don’t focus too much on the unfolding though so i don’t stay there. i just don’t give power to them. i just try to be as calm as i possibly can and know that the negative circumstances are just the unboxing of my manifestation.

2) i recall moments when everything went to shit and i still got my desires. i have a lot of moments where my 3d was in shambles and i still got my manifestations or something even better.

3) i remind myself that the law is real and it’s a LAW. meaning, it is always on. it is always waiting for me to select the reality i want. i’m always shifting. i’m always choosing. this doesn’t change just because i’m facing negative circumstances.

4) i tell myself that no matter what i do in the 3d, it doesn’t matter. it’ll lead me to my manifestation regardless. even when i throw a fit or have a mental breakdown or react negatively to the 3d in any way, i tell myself that it doesn’t matter. i can do whatever i want and still get my manifestation. if i want to cry, i cry. if i want to feel angry or frustrated, i allow myself to feel these emotions. sometimes i pretend that time froze along with everything else. like i’m in a place where nothing happens and it transcends the notion of time and existence ? in a way. i’m allowed to do anything i want and it won’t affect my 3d at all.

5) i trained my mind to detach from anything that overwhelms me. this one was extremely hard at first but now i’m way better at it. i naturally detach after letting my feelings out. i don’t feel regret at all for reacting especially when it comes to sp or people in general. this eventually led to my awareness being more focused on myself and my inner peace rather than my desires.

6) i watch manifestation content as motivation boosts. i don’t know why so many people are against this honestly. i’m pretty sure that even if you’re a “master manifestor” you’ll sometimes need a motivation boost or reminders and that’s okay. i’ve lived a big portion of my life without knowing about loa, shifting, non-dualism, etc. so sometimes my mind will go to my old mindset or beliefs especially as someone who grew up in an environment where people’s spiritual or religious beliefs where forced onto them. i’m sure some of you might relate. i try to saturate my mind with manifestation content to remind myself of my power and focus on my own mindset instead of my desires and the 3d circumstances.

7) i read some of y’alls blogs ! honestly, they’re so helpful. i’m so glad i reinstalled this app because the manifestation community here is amazing. y’all are so motivating and informative. i love the creativity on here as well. being here also helps me feel more motivated to focus on myself and i even reread my own blogs as reminders. do whatever makes you feel good. i sometimes even play loa audiobooks, take a nap, or spoil myself in any way. i make myself happy regardless of what i see in the 3d. if persistence feels exhausting or difficult to me, i just do my best to chill and detach and that eventually calms me down and makes me able to handle things way better than when i’m triggered. i think emotional self-regulation is beneficial. is it a necessity for manifesting what you desire ? no. but it does help in moments like this. ⋆ ⟡˖ ࣪

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 10

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Word : 6k

Masterlist

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Thursday, October 29; 6:00 PM -  Bronze' Room.

Four. That's the number of days I've been living in real hell. I'm constantly going from cold to hot. I don't even dare to move because of my sore muscles. I've never felt as bad as I have at the start of this week. What exhausts me the most is emptying my guts into the basin that hasn't moved since the first day. The worst part is that I haven't eaten anything for four days, so it's even more painful.

 I just feel like I'm slowly dying. I know it's not real and that if all goes well, I'll be back on my feet in a few days. I'm starting to go crazy in this room. The only time I get out of bed is to use the bathroom, change clothes, or take a shower. And even then,  Bronze has to motivate me each time to do it. The problem is that I depend on her for every movement, and it's starting to irritate me. 

I feel pathetic not even being able to get to the bathroom on my own when it's only a few steps from my bed. Fortunately, I've managed to handle things in the bathroom on my own so far. It takes me much longer than usual each time, but it's certainly better than having to ask  Bronze for help. She's a woman and young, but she's still my supervisor. It's embarrassing for her to see me in such intimate situations. I had to ask for her help only once, and I still feel strange about it. Clumsy as I am, my earring got caught on my t-shirt. I tried to free myself but only managed to tangle myself more.  Bronze came to my rescue without hesitation, even though I was half-naked. I felt so embarrassed, yet she did nothing to make me feel that way, quite the opposite.

 She's so different since I've been here. She's no longer the strict supervisor who gives grand speeches. She's just a normal person who takes care of me. She hasn't left my side. Engen had to convince her to set up shifts so she could rest too. She finally agreed to let someone else stay by my side at night and during her three meals a day. So, the other three senior instructors take turns: Engen, Bright, and White. Without them, she wouldn't sleep at night knowing I have insomnia. I don't understand why she doesn't leave my surveillance more. It's not like the others are incompetent. I glance at my supervisor who is lying on her bed reading. Today is my first relatively calm day. I smile softly, seeing that she seems absorbed in her book.

"Are you feeling a little better?"

I'll never understand how she can see me when she doesn't even turn her head from her reading. It's like her eyes are everywhere. This isn't the first time she's done this. I lower my eyes to my slightly trembling hands.

"Better, but for how long...?" I murmur.

I sigh, knowing the detox process will take more than just a week. The stage I'm enduring now is nothing compared to what I'll have to endure psychologically later. I close my eyes at this thought.

"Can we take advantage of this lull to talk?" she asks, closing her book.

I look at her piercing green eyes for a moment. It's as if she knows what I'm thinking. I shrug. It's not like I wasn't warned. She was just waiting for me to be able to hold a conversation without my head constantly over the basin. I should also mention that dependency speaks for our subconscious. It seems I made advances to her at some point to get drugs. I have no memory of it, but she didn't hesitate to remind me to tease me. I was mortified when I found out. I also tried to charm her colleagues, in another way, fortunately for me. That's why I'm worried about what's to come if I'm already like this now. I was clean in my head before that night. I hate having to start over from scratch. I break my gaze from the void and turn my head towards her. She has just sat down on the chair between our two beds. It seems her decision has been made and I have to talk. I curl up on my side to face her. No way am I sitting up for this conversation. I close my eyes when she places her hand on my forehead to check my temperature. She's been doing this for a few days now.

"You don't have a fever anymore."

"Mm..." I groan.

"You have only yourself to blame, you know."

"I told you I don't remember anything from that night."

She sinks into her chair and crosses her arms.

"I want to believe you. You know, everyone thinks you did it on purpose."

"I don't care what others think. What do you think?"

"I have a personal opinion that I'd like to confirm by knowing your side of the story. Tell me about that night. I want to know everything in detail."

I lower my head, realizing she won't give me her opinion for now. Will she believe me? She's the only one I have hope in. Jaha and my mother will never believe me.

"Ona," she says, placing her hand on my shoulder. "If you don't talk to me, no one can defend you."

"Okay," I sigh. "I'll talk..."

"Start from the beginning, please."

"Yeah... So, um... I did go to a party... At least, Mapi convinced me to. I really didn't want to go at first," I began.

"Who is Mapi? Your best friend?"

"Yes."

"And so, you went?"

"Yeah... She took me to one of our old high school friends' place. She thought I'd be happy to see a familiar place."

"And that's where you took the opportunity to shoot up. You know, it's not bad if that's the case. It would be worse if you didn't admit it."

"No, I didn't shoot up. Please, don't push me..."

"Do you think?" she raises an eyebrow. "That I'm pushing you? I just said that if it was you, I want you to tell me now."

I nervously bite my lip. No, she's not pushing me. But I might say what she wants to hear if she insists a little. I shake my head to convince myself of what I think. A slight dizziness takes over.

"It's not me... Believe me, please. Okay, I wasn't an angel that night. I drank... Probably too much," I say, looking her straight in the eyes. "But that's all."

"You drank willingly?"

"Yeah... A few drinks at first, then we played drinking games where I was a willing participant," I admitted.

"Do you think you could have done it while drunk?"

Her tone is calm, reassuring. She's just trying to understand the how and why. She's not judging me, I can tell.

"If I didn't want to go to the party in the first place, it's because I knew it was risky. I felt clean, but someone like me can never predict how they'll react if they see drugs. However, I knew I couldn't come back here having taken something. I'm not that stupid,  Bronze."

"You don't know, do you? You don't know if it was you or not."

I look at her with horrified eyes. Indeed, I don't know if it was me or not. I think the answer terrifies me. I don't know how I would cope with that. I lower my head, too afraid her behavior will change knowing this.

"Well, I'll be honest with you. We both know you're far from stupid to have done it."

She leans forward so our eyes are well connected. How can she say such a thing after what she's just discovered? She should believe I'm guilty, that I did it. Not the opposite.

"Well, I still have some doubts, though. You're lucky we didn't find anything in your things, otherwise it would have been hard to defend you."

"Y-you searched my stuff?" I stammer in shock, my eyes wide.

"I had no choice. Wiegman wanted to do it personally to ensure no drugs were brought into the school. I spared you from her searching through your underwear collection."

I blush at the thought of  Bronze going through my underwear. Damn! They have no pity! That's very personal. I sigh as I feel a shiver run down my spine. It seems my respite didn't last long. I want to finish this conversation before  Bronze notices.

"Okay, let's go step by step. You owe me details so we can understand what happened. Only then can I defend your credibility."

"I already told you everything," I groan. "I met my old friends. We talked a bit before Mapi and I went out."

"What did you do?"

"We sat on some lounge chairs to chat about the latest gossip while having a few drinks."

"Okay, and then?" she encourages me.

I groan in frustration. I hate being in this accused position. I feel like I'm exposing myself by recounting every detail. But she's right. If I want to defend my credibility, I have to talk. To do that, I need to focus on remembering. I close my eyes.

"Then we joined the others for drinking games where we kept drinking. I was pretty tipsy, so Mapi took the opportunity to drag me onto the dance floor since it's the only time I agree to dance. The guys joined us shortly after. We were having a good time. I was happy to see them again. Then that's when..."

I abruptly open my eyes, finally remembering the missing piece of the puzzle. I don't have time to speak before I have to lean over the basin. Bronze barely had time to grab my hair. She immediately checks my slightly sweaty forehead. I slowly lie back down under her sigh. She helps me lie down before sitting back down. Damn it! How could I forget that part of the night!

"Do you feel capable of continuing? We can stop if you'd prefer."

"N-no! I-I want to talk," I say in a trembling voice.

"Good," she murmurs. "Then continue."

"Promise you won't repeat it?"

"No, I can't. It all depends on what it is."

I hesitate for a moment. I can't keep this to myself. It's way too important.  Bronze gently places her hand on my knee, as if trying to reassure me.

"I-I saw my ex again," I manage to say.

"Your ex?" she frowns.

"Her name is Feli, Feli Rauch. She's the one who... who got me into drugs... We didn't really end on good terms. I don't even remember breaking up with her. I just left without a word back then..."

"What was she doing there?"

"She said she came with a friend. She danced behind me, but I didn't know it was her until I turned around. I ran away outside, but she followed me. I let her talk, and she took the opportunity to apologize and say she missed me..."

My voice trembles. I can't get into more details. I've already said much more than I thought I could. Bronze's hand runs through my hair, prompting me to close my eyes. Her gesture slowly soothes me. To think these are just the main points.

"I know you're making an extraordinary effort by telling me all this, and I'm proud of you," she says softly. "It's the first time you've confided in me, and it makes me happy. I just ask for one more effort to tell me what else you remember."

"Not much, really," I murmur. "I let her say what she had to say and went back to find Mapi. I was shaken by seeing her again... Mapi didn't notice anything, so... so I just kept drinking... I-I feel stupid. I should have left the party after seeing her..."

- "You weren't in your right mind," she reassures me with a soft voice. "Do you think she could have forced you?"

- "I don't know... Maybe."

I tighten the blanket around me as I lift my head. She removes her hand and gives me a warm smile. I think that's a good sign. As for me, I don't know what to think anymore.

- "Have you asked your friends? Do they remember anything?"

- "Yes, of course, we talked while they drove me to the airport. Apparently, we separated around two in the morning. It was shortly after my meeting with Feli. So, they couldn't help me much. I was clean, Bronze... I was really clean."

I crack, my eyes slightly tearing up. I don't know who I'm trying to convince more with these words. She smiles at me a bit more.

- "I know, Ona. I know, don't worry," she repeats, moving some hair off my face. "You've done a lot. Thank you for being honest. Rest now. I'll get you a washcloth."

I close my eyes to relieve my sudden headache. It's crazy how everything came back all at once. I let out a groan when I feel the cold washcloth on my neck. Every time, she does this without warning. At first, I would jump, but now I'm used to it. She adjusts my blanket to cover me completely.

- "You won't say anything, right?"

- "If I don't say anything, they'll keep their opinion, Ona."

- "I don't care, as long as you believe me..."

- "We'll see."

- "You promised..."

- "I didn't promise anything. Seeing your ex who's a junkie never bodes well."

- "She won't do anything to me... She loves me too much for that."

- "Meanwhile, she's the most likely person to have drugged you. Your mother has the right to know."

- "Absolutely not," I say, reopening my eyes. "You can tell Wiegman, but not my mother! She doesn't need to know something like this!"

I don't see her anywhere. I understand that she's behind me. I would have liked to turn around, but I don't have the courage to move even a little toe. I tighten my blanket more around me as there's a knock on the door. Bronze sighs.

- "Well, we'll talk about it later."

Bronze opened the door because I hear Engen and Bright's voices in the room. I'm relieved that the conversation ends here. I don't know what time it is, but I imagine it's time to eat since they're here. It's always Bright or White who watches over me while Bronze goes to eat with Engen. I groan when someone shakes me slightly. It feels like an earthquake in my state. I open my eyes to find myself face to face with Bronze.

- "I'm leaving you with Bright while I eat. Do you want anything?"

- "No," I groan.

- "You haven't eaten anything for three days. You need to force yourself. Your cheeks are getting hollow."

- "Humm..." I grumble. "Don't want anything," I groan.

I close my eyes, which suddenly feel very heavy. I just want her to leave me alone.

- "Still not feeling better?" Engen asks.

- "She was fine since she woke up half an hour ago. It seems to be coming back."

- "I asked for some soup to be prepared for her. She needs something in her stomach given her state."

- "Ona," she shakes me once more.

- "Hummm."

- "Leave her alone. You can see she's out of it again," Engen says. "We'll bring her something and, if necessary, we'll force her."

I feel her hand leave my shoulder. This gesture makes me bury my head into my blanket. They keep talking a bit, but I've lost all sense of the conversation. It's only when silence reigns that I finally find sleep.

Wednesday, October 28; 8:30 PM - Bronze's Room.

I was sleeping peacefully until Bronze reappeared half an hour ago. We're alone again, and now she's forcing me to eat some damn soup. I'm leaning against the wall behind my bed, waiting for her spoonfuls against my will. She decided she wouldn't let me eat alone to make sure I eat. Well, okay... She might be right to do so. By doing this, she avoids me having to admit that I can't feed myself. So, I just open my mouth to please her. I feel like a child. I'm lucky my body accepts the food. It might be temporary, but it feels good to have something in my stomach. The soup gives me a bit of strength back.

- "You should take a shower too. You've been sweating all day."

- "Impossible," I mumble.

- "You stink, and my room smells like vomit, so it's non-negotiable."

- "I can't do it, Bronze. I'm way too cold and in too much pain to move an inch."

- "I've always helped you move."

- "I'm talking about in the shower."

- "Well, I'll help you if you want."

- "No way!" I groan.

She laughs heartily at my reaction. If she thinks I'll let her shower me again, she's dreaming! I accept the help with food, but definitely not with the shower.

- "Stop laughing, it's not funny!"

- "You've accepted my help so far. What's the problem?"

- "You're not going to help me take a shower! No way."

I'm almost sure my cheeks turn red with embarrassment. It must be the case, given the silly smile spreading on Bronze's face.

- "I'm not going to ask you to undress in front of me, Ona, if that's the issue. That would be crossing my boundaries as an instructor. You'll stay in your underwear. I just want you to freshen up a bit, it will do you good."

- "Please, Bronze... It's pure and simple humiliation."

- "Humiliation?" she laughs. "Nonsense. Well, if you see it that way... You'll try by yourself, and if you have any issues, call me. But one thing is for sure, you're getting under the water tonight. I want to take this opportunity to change your sheets and air out the room."

I hate her when she's like this. So commanding. I love that she's been taking care of me these past few days, but she remains insufferable when she wants something. I open my mouth when she brings the spoon closer. I can't wait for this situation to end. Hopefully soon. The bowl finally reaches the bottom. I sink directly into my bed after the last bite.

- "Nope, no way. Up!" she orders.

- "Tomorrow, please..."

- "No! You already pulled that yesterday and I let it go. There's no way I'm letting you pass again. It will do you good to stretch a bit. You'll thank me when all this is over."

I grumble as she pulls my arms to get me out of bed. I know she's right, but I'm definitely not going to admit it. I sit on the edge of the bed before placing my arm on her shoulders. Her arms around my waist support me until she sits me on the toilet in the bathroom. My legs were indeed very numb given the time it took us to move to the room.

- "Is that okay?"

- "Can I have a bit of privacy now?"

- "Yeah. Just leave your underwear on, just in case. I'll prepare some new clothes in the meantime."

I nod, and she leaves the room, closing the door. I take advantage of this moment to use the toilet since I rarely get up. I then lean against the sink to stay upright and remove my shorts and t-shirt. I place my t-shirt on the sink and leave my shorts on the floor. I don't feel capable of picking it up. I keep my underwear on as asked, then move under the shower. Fortunately, the instructors have a shower with a seat. I collapse onto it when I reach it. I sigh, realizing I forgot to grab the showerhead, forcing me to get up again. Once done, I turn the hot water on to the maximum to warm up... Bad idea given how it burns my skin. The surprise is such that I scream and drop the showerhead. It goes everywhere from the force of the jets, splashing a large part of the bathroom and me. I protect myself with one arm while reaching the faucet behind me. The water stops flowing, and I sigh in exasperation at my incompetence.

- "Are you okay?"

I look at the door where Bronze's voice is heard from behind. I let my head fall against the wall. I cover my chest with my arms. I'm freezing now. I close my eyes for a moment, hating myself for what I'm about to say.

- "Okay, you win," I reply loudly. "I need your help."

- "Can I come in?"

- "Yes."

The handle turns. I look away while she enters. I don't dare look at her. Few people have seen me in my underwear. She'll be the first to see my body so scantily clad in a year and a half. I can't help but tighten my arms around me, as if that would cover me. I've become very modest to the point of no longer liking going to the pool in a two-piece swimsuit. I turn my head when she doesn't come towards me right away. She's assessing the damage caused by the showerhead, thanks to my mishap. She raises an eyebrow, making me shrink my head into my shoulders. I hadn't realized it was that bad. The protective glass took most of it, but the sink, mirror, and my clothes weren't spared. I forget my fear of her scolding me and panic remembering that I left my bracelet, a birthday gift, on my t-shirt.

"Well done! I leave you alone for ten minutes and you make a mess," she smiles, picking up my shorts from the floor.

Her smile fades when she sees my face. She follows my eyes to my t-shirt. She grabs my bracelet and quickly wipes it with a towel.

"Don't worry, it's fine," she reassures me.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry," I breathe out. "I'm literally out of strength, everything hurts, and I'm cold! I can't take it anymore," I break down, summarizing my situation. "I'm fed up with all this crap, damn it."

"It's okay, I'm here now."

I'm on the verge of collapsing in front of her. I'm holding back so hard not to break down. I don't want her to see me in a state of weakness again. I'm already too much of that. That she sees my withdrawal crises, fine. But that she sees me cry because I'm at my wit's end, no way. She places my dirty, wet clothes in her laundry basket, then wipes the sink with a towel to place my new clothes on it. I watch her take off her shoes and roll up her pants and sleeves before stepping into the shower. Fortunately, it's an open shower with enough space. She picks up the showerhead and finally looks at me. My arms tighten instinctively. It's the first time she's really looked at me since she came in, and it makes me uncomfortable.

"I'll hold it. Do you feel capable of washing yourself, or do I need to take care of that too?"

"I think I can manage."

I want to manage it. I don’t want her to touch me. She smiles at me, trying to help me relax, but it’s not working at all. She turns on the water and adjusts the temperature with the mixer next to my head. She is very focused, watching the water flow over her hand until she says it’s just right. She looks into my eyes, waiting for my approval, but it never comes. I become even more tense than before and tighten my hands even more to hide my nudity.

"Come on Ona, take your hands off. I can’t do anything like this."

I shake my head vigorously, not caring about the dizziness. I close my eyes tightly to lessen it. I sincerely hope this situation will end soon. I thought I could manage for a moment, but I can’t. I’ve reached the point where no one can touch me without fear. I feel ridiculous for trembling like this. To my surprise, I hear the water stop and feel fingers under my chin lifting my head.

"Look at me."

I shake my head, fighting with myself.

"Please, Ona…" she persists. "Breathe calmly and at least dare to open your eyes," she encourages me.

I regulate my breathing as she taught me during my field runs. I then open my eyes to find her crouched down. I fall into her soft green irises. I startle when her hand rests on my cheek.

"Calm down. You don’t need to be ashamed or anything. What’s wrong?"

"Nothing…"

"Don’t kid me. If you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you."

I tense up as I feel her hand caress me. She has never been this gentle with me. I’m discovering sides of her that I never thought compatible with her character.

"Do you want me to leave the bathroom?" she asks.

I manage to shake my head from side to side. Even if I wanted her to leave, I can’t manage without her. I can’t even hold the showerhead.

"Alright, then take your hands off. I’m just going to spray you with water."

"I’m sorry, I—"

"Hey, trust me," she interrupts. "I’ve never crossed your boundaries, as far as I know."

I feel lost. I can’t think straight with her so close. After a while, my hands lose their grip. A small smile appears on her face. She carefully removes the last grip. I let my arms fall to the side, revealing my almost naked body. I watch her closely as she sees my tense body. It’s hard for her to hide her surprise, but she doesn’t comment. She just sprays water on me. The warm water helps me relax and feel better. She turns off the water once I’m completely wet. She puts shampoo into my hand. Everything is fine, but my arms start to hurt from holding them up to scrub my hair. She must have noticed because she starts doing it for me without me asking. I say nothing and close my eyes to enjoy this pleasant moment. No one has ever given me a scalp massage like she is now. She unconsciously eases my headache. I open my eyes when she turns the water back on.

"Tilt your head back, or you’ll get it all in your eyes."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask as I comply.

"Doing what? Helping you shower?"

"Taking care of me."

My question is followed by silence. I have a perfect view of her head as mine is tilted back. Her face is directly above mine so she can see what she’s doing. I’m sure I could see her cleavage if I lower my head. The question has been burning on my tongue for a while, but she doesn’t seem to want to answer. I can tell she doesn’t like leaving me under her colleagues’ care. It’s to the point where she refused another room to sleep in at night when the other instructors watch over me. She claims she doesn’t want any bed other than hers, but I think she mostly doesn’t want to be far from me in case something goes wrong.

"I’ve made your life impossible since I arrived, but you still help me," I insist.

"Everyone deserves help, don’t they? I sense that deep down, you want to change, but your behavior shows you haven’t had much support in your life… So, I’m giving you mine… Even if you make my life difficult," she adds with a smile. "Come on, open your hand."

I open it silently so she can put shower gel in it. I scrub my upper body first. Seeing that I can’t go further, she takes care of my legs after getting my permission. She avoids any areas that could be awkward, then rinses me one last time. She hangs up the showerhead and helps me stand. She wraps me directly in a large towel she had prepared. I bury myself in it, glad that it’s all over.

"Thank you… for everything," I murmur.

"I told you from the start, Ona. As long as I’m here, you won’t leave. I’ll be by your side and never abandon you," she announces, rubbing my arms to warm me up. "You may make my life difficult, but it’s a pleasure to get to know you and be able to help."

Her words touch me. I feel guilty. I really behaved like an idiot when I arrived. I didn’t understand anything.

"I’m sorry for everything I put you through…"

"Don’t apologize," she smiles. "Your behavior is completely normal. Now sit down."

With her help, I sit back on the toilet after she retrieves my clothes. She places them on my lap.

"Try to change and don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, okay…"

She smiles and then leaves to give me some privacy. I remain shaken. It’s as if I’ve had an epiphany about her intentions. I feel foolish, but my heart swells with happiness. She can be annoying, but she takes care of me like no one has in a long time. She knows how to balance punishing me and helping me when I need it. She reminds me of Mapi, even though the two relationships are very different. I just feel like they will always be there to catch me when I need it. I sigh and let the towel drop. I take my time to remove my wet underwear and replace them with the new ones. I continue with my t-shirt, which I manage to put on this time, and grab my shorts… I think it’s one piece of clothing too many as I try to lift my legs. I give up just as someone knocks on the door.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, go ahead."

I’m not worried about it anymore. She’s already seen me in every possible situation, even in my underwear. She enters with the basin that is usually next to my bed. She places it next to the sink and turns to me.

"Any trouble?"

I show her my shorts, and she smiles. I turn my head towards the door when I notice a second presence. I feel embarrassed seeing Engen there. It’s okay if Bronze sees me like this, but Engen…

"I told you to stay in the room," sighs Bronze.

"Oh, come on! Hi, Ona."

"Hi…"

I keep my head down and try to hide my legs as much as I can. I don’t like being seen naked. It’s not as bad as before, but still! She finally leaves under the incessant requests from my instructor, who must have noticed my discomfort.

"Sorry, she helped me tidy the room," Bronze informs me once Engen is gone.

She crouches in front of me and takes the shorts from my hands. She asks me to lift one foot.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I’ve already been more uncomfortable in the past four days."

She chuckles, and I lift my other foot to put it in the shorts. She pulls them up to my knees before standing up.

"I’ll let you do the rest, and to answer your question, you don’t need to be embarrassed, I’ve already told you."

She goes back to the sink to clean the basin and lets me handle things on my own. I don’t know how she does it. I wouldn’t be able to stand the smell in her place. I can already smell it from here, and it makes me want to vomit again. When she’s finished, she washes her hands and turns back to face me.

"Do you want me to tie your hair?"

I nod. She approaches me and makes a quick bun, as she has been doing for me these past few days. It’s more practical for many things. Then she helps me up, and we finally leave the bathroom. I’m surprised to see the change. It’s clear there’s fresh air here. The wide-open window is probably the main reason. As expected, my sheets have been changed, and she has also tidied my belongings that had invaded her personal space. Because yes, she brought my suitcase into her room since it hadn’t been unloaded from her car when we arrived. She lies me back on my bed where I snuggle under the blanket. The fresh air might be good, but it’s taking away all the warmth I gained from the shower. Engen is still in the room. She is sitting on Bronze’s bed, but I don’t pay her any attention. I turn my back to her to stare at the wall. I’m exhausted from this little excursion. It doesn’t take long for me to find my position and my sleep.

[shywhumpauthor]

In between spy whumpee’s torture, can we get some of their backstory?

I really want Kaden to save them at the end in the canon storyline(only if you’re okay with it ofc)

We’re just going to pretend that this ask isn’t from January-

Kaden saving them? A crossover? Psh

Training With Clay

Surveillance Masterlist

Cw: abuse in the name of “training”, starvation, overworking, over exhaustion, dehydration, normalized abuse, blood, collapsing, preparations for self-sacrifice, accepting death as inevitable (even though it very much is avoidable), normalized no self worth, disregard for the value of life, all that fun stuff. Noah’s spy training was just really fucked up.

Stay still.

Stay still.

Stay silent. Stay still.

Sweat beaded on the back of Noah’s neck, cold and anxious. Saliva pooled beneath his tongue, but he didn’t even dare swallow, knowing what consequences even the slightest movement would bring.

Silent. Noah couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken. More than a few days, he knew, but he didn’t know if it had yet to pass a week point. Or two. In the Chamber, time was a privilege, one that only the higher ranking were permitted to exploit. It could have been months, and he would have been none the wiser.

Days were indistinguishable from the rest, blended together through the broken breaks of sleep and meals. The lights went off and back on. The silence rarely parted. He used to be able to tell the time, to some extent, by the ache in his bones, but that had faded long ago, the exhaustion from each day bleeding into the next with no noticeable improvement from rest.

At least today was an easier day. He had known that when instead of being ripped away from his cot, dragged to the floor by an arm or the back of his shirt, or jolted awake as a pail of ice water was dumped over him, he had woken up to the ear-splitting morning alarm in the training center.

It was Clay’s day, which Noah was beyond grateful for. Clay only worked with the informer recruits for one day a week, though those hours passed much too quickly. Clay wasn’t a saint by any means, sometimes they could be a real dick, but for the most part they were fine. Rude, a bit annoying at points, but they weren’t nearly as mean as some of the other instructors. They worked them to the point of failure, but not past. Encouraged to test their limits, but accepting of the failure. Displeased with it, obviously, but accepting.

With them, it wasn’t physical strain, not in the manner like it was with Aaron. He was the worst, by far. Bitter memories of running, sprinting on a treadmill in line with five others until Noah’s legs gave out, that couldn’t have been more than a week ago. Strength training wasn’t as important for informers as it would be for, say, soldiers, where brute force was a necessity in missions, just another form of practiced endurance. They weren’t really soldiers, none of these operations were connected to the military, but that’s just how they were referred. The job any given recruit in the room wished they had been assigned to rather than this. Noah wished he had been assigned to the technical division. It’s why he had applied for this entirely. He wasn’t amazing with computers, but compared to the other branches of recruits it seemed the most interesting.

Really, he had been most interested by a smaller branch within the tech division. He had wanted to become a coordinator, to put together the very missions he was now stuck preparing for now. Tech, technicalities. He had wanted to work with the logistics of the assignments and approaches, but instead he was the one following those orders. He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted to be here. But he wasn’t given much of a choice, so here he was.

Noah’s class, as the supervisors called it, wasn’t that large. Twenty at the beginning of the program, dropped down to eighteen after the first two weeks. Noah wasn’t sure what had happened to them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. All he knew was that they had failed.

The spies were made to look as inconspicuous as possible. Everyone in the room, there were little distinguishing factors between the recruits. They were all around the same height and the same build, hair cut neatly once but tangled with sweat and knots. Nothing more than average. It had been those features that ended him up in this division. They all wore the same uniform, once folded neatly and pressed shirts and shorts, now wrinkled and dirty. Even with Clay, it had been a long day. And it still wasn’t over.

“You weren’t chosen to fight. You were chosen to endure. Bear it.” Clay spoke, their voice ringing loudly through the empty room, over the shallow, exhausted breaths of the recruits. Bear it.

They weren’t chosen to fight. Or to plan. The only thing they needed to do was listen. Observe. Record, keep their cover. Stay silent upon capture, take the torture until death. Don’t give anything away.

That’s all this training was. Preparations for torture later on, not if but when. When they were sent on their mission. When they were captured. When.

Three months of hell. Three months of abuse of all kinds, preparing them for anything and everything that could happen. Exposing them to the pain they would face, building up their tolerance. After those three months were over, though, things would be better. Hell with a reprieve. After three months, and the Initiation—which anyone had yet to tell the recruits what that really was—they’d all get a break. A long time to rest, recover. To join the rest of the workers in the company, interact with people outside of their class until they were called for their mission.

Noah’s knees hurt. The idea was cruel, and he could only imagine what the bruises would look like the following morning, but it wasn’t half as bad as some of the other exposure. Every bone in his body ached from having to hold the position for hours on end, the grains of uncooked rice embedding deep into his shins. But it would go away, eventually. The bruises and the indents would fade, and there wouldn’t be any evidence of this trial. Of any of them. That was a big part of their tactics. Scars meant suspicion, and suspicion ruined the whole goal of going unnoticed.

Next to him, a recruit let out a trembling groan, their entire body shuddering in the corner of Noah’s vision, but he didn’t dare turn his head to look. Their pain was irrelevant to him. All that mattered was that he focused.

Focused on staying still and silent.

The recruit collapsed, falling forwards to the hard floor.

They were the fourth so far, and from what Noah could tell from around the room, they weren’t going to be the last.

Resourcefulness was another virtue they were taught, the most important as Clay had explained during their very first lesson. Anticipate what will happen. Don’t hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Use everything to your advantage.

That morning, after the recruits had all woken up, Noah had realized what day it was. With Clay, there were two breaks. One after the first exercise, then one at the very end of the day. During the first one, Noah had slipped away to the bathroom, where he had hunched over the sink and drank as much water from the tap as he could without getting sick. Dehydration was probably the worst and the most common factor that meddled with training. Some days they were given free water breaks, whenever they needed they were allowed to step away to get some. Other days they weren’t. He was prepared, unlike some of the others.

His mind was clouded with exhaustion and pain, but he wasn’t going delirious. That was always a good thing. Just focus on the good things. That’s all he could do.

Break them down.

Strip everything away until the canvas was bare.

Build them back up. Piece by piece.

Shatter the glass then melt the fragments back together to form a new pane.

Another recruit gave in, a defeated slump. Noah didn’t even notice. He kept his sight locked on a single grain of rice, fighting the exhaustion that tugged down on his eyelids.

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. Noah blinked it out of his eye.

…

“Settle.”

The command came like an answered prayer, a ray of golden sunlight breaking through a swirling mass of dark clouds. It took Noah a moment to process it, and another few to finally move. He had to think about it for a second, the resounding ache in his legs making it clear he wouldn’t be able to stand right away. So instead he shifted to the side, brushing the scattered rice away before lowering himself from his knees to sit. For the first time in hours, he looked across the the training hall.

There were only a handful of recruits still standing. Well, kneeling. Now sitting. The ones who had failed, probably eleven out of the eighteen of them, sat against the wall with their gaze downwards.

Noah grit his teeth, wincing as the weight was finally lifted off his knees. There were grains of rice embedded in his knees, small trickles of blood dripping down the skin from where he had moved too much. He bit down on his lip, gingerly brushing away the grains, having to pick the really deep ones away with his nails. It stung like hell, but it was nothing compared to what he had faced before. His legs screamed in both protest and relief as he stretched them for the first time in hours, cramped muscles twitching as he let himself rest from the rigid posture he held for much too long.

“Alright boys, showers and dinner.” Clay clapped their hands a single time, and the line of recruits against the wall quickly stood and began to shuffle out in a clump. Noah moved to follow them, unable to contain the groan as he attempted to get his legs underneath him, but Clay held out a hand, drawing the attention of those on the floor and shaking their head.

“Rest for another few minutes,” they said, the commanding tone dropping from their voice. Once the others had left, Clay spoke again. “You all did well today. Once the others finish in the bathroom, I’ll turn on the warm water and you can have an extra ten minutes. Sit for now.”

A prick of confusion invaded Noah’s mind, but he wasn’t about to question.

Clay’s cold eyes shifted to him, and Noah couldn’t drop his gaze before they made eye contact. The instructor was walking over to him, not giving Noah time to lapse into a mental panic before they were standing in front of him.

“You did better today, Noah,” They spoke quietly, adjusting their voice so the other recruits wouldn’t overhear as Clay crouched down not too far from him. They crossed their arms, gaze dropping to Noah’s bleeding knees. “Your progress hasn’t gone unnoticed along the supervisors. Come see me after you get cleaned up if you need some bandages or Motrin, alright?”

Clay waited for him to nod, voice lost as he was taken aback. Not just by the direct interaction from an instructor—which was rarely a good thing, but the offer. He didn’t know Clay knew his name even. Here, to instructors, recruits didn’t have names. He was eight, the number of the bunk he was assigned to.

By the time he broke out of the exhaustion laced stupor the interaction had caught him in, Clay had already moved on, walking down to the next recruit and stopping just in front of them. They remained standing.

He could just hear them say, “not bad, fourteen. Watch your breathing, you can let your posture ease more. That should help.”

——————————————————

Tag list: @pickleking8 @blood-enthusiast @t0rture-me @sparrowsage @enigmawritesstuff @whump-me

This was fun to write. I plan to do a lot of Noah in the next couple days so if there’s anything you want to see pleaseeee let me know

Anything at all.

Please.

[crazedhatter77]

Rant #2 - On living with ADHD

ADHD is a hell of a thing. A physical difference in the human brain that causes 5 specific and relatively small areas of the brain to develop roughly 5 to 8 percent smaller than would be normal. And those 5 areas all just happen to deal with Executive Function! The end result of this is virtually no impulse control, no internal motivation, no capacity to focus on anything that isn't interesting... oh and perhaps the worst one, no ability to be accountable to yourself. This gets particularly tricky when you're an adult with money - rewards systems that may have worked when you're a kid just fail, because you can just give yourself the award! It's a hard thing to live with. I'm not even sure a neurotypical can fully grasp how WEIRD it is to have no internal motivation. The only reason I do ANYTHING is because of outside forces, and I mean ANYTHING. If there is no outside force desiring a thing... that thing just won't happen.

It's exhausting, day after day having to overcome this mental inertia to do absolutely nothing. Like, if it weren't for needing to have a roof over my head, food for myself and my cat and medical care to ensure my physical conditions don't kill me, there is absolutely no way I would ever get to work. The stakes basically have to be life and death for me to be doing anything constructive at all. The effort it takes, by the way, to be able to focus and to be able to engage with work and not give in to these rampant mental impulses results in a level of mental exhaustion that some days... I just get home from work, sit down, and stare at a blank screen for an hour before it registers that I haven't even gotten out of my work clothes.

So why am I writing about it? Because sometimes you just need to get your frustrations off your chest, and you don't want to burden anyone with the weight of it. Living in my brain is just the strangest thing - I am conscious human being, but it feels like I'm renting time in my own skull. I'm not the one in control and that is just... well it's weird, but I don't FEEL weird for the simple reason that I've never lived in a neurotypical brain. I've often thought about how different it must be to think 'I need to do X' and just... doing it? The internal argument, monologue, whatever you want to call it to push through and get something done in my brain is like herding cats. My thought process looks like an 8 way intersection with no traffic controls, oh and a runway and some rail tracks run through it too.

The physiological basis of the disease is the really hard part about it. Knowing that it is effectively a deformity in your brain, knowing that you'll just never be able to function as a normal human being without medical intervention is hard. It's not something that will be cured, it's a physical fact of your brain and unless we figure out how to stimulate growth of those 5 regions, or figure out how to edit it out of the genes so that it can't happen in the first place, it's here to stay.

Don't get me wrong, there are occasional benefits to it, if you can get it well managed the task switching becomes invaluable when you have to juggle a number of things, as long as you can maintain interest in them. The propensity for wandering thought patterns and daydreaming undoubtedly can lead to interesting places - I wouldn't be at all surprised to find ADHD disproportionately represented in Science and Art - hyperfixation combined with those daydreams and thought patterns undoubtedly would lead to some incredible creations and scientific discoveries. But man, that doesn't really cancel out the constant struggle just to exist as a conscious being. I can't tell you how many times I've just... forgotten to eat! Sometimes I wind up so hungry that I feel physically ill to the point that I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to keep the food down!

The real reason I'm writing about it, is that even though it was first described in the 1790's, even though it's been discovered to be a PHYSICAL disability, it's still one of those things that is dismissed as nonsense or laziness and that is the worst thing of all about it. The thought that so many people out there think we've made up this disability because we 'just don't want to try hard' is absurd. It crushes the human spirit within us, humanity in it's very nature is a species that strives for progress - that part is still in me, there are so many things I wish I could push myself to do but... I literally just can't. I lack the actual capacity and to think I'd be that way on purpose is insulting.

I just wish more in the world could come to terms with it, ADHD is a real, debilitating, physical defect that causes a learning disability in people that have it, and it results in an utter lack or severely curtailed executive function. It isn't a choice, it isn't curable, and it isn't going away. But it IS in need of support and accommodation, just like any other disability - the difficult part is figuring out what that support looks like.

That is the real challenge.

Anyhow, this wasn't really a rant I guess, more like a stream of consciousness info dump of a lot of crap that rattles around in my head, and the fact that I wrote all of this and got to this point shows how badly I wanted to vent this. I haven't gone 'Look a Squirrel!' this entire time!

[averagewriter777]

Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Masterlist

The REAL Part Twenty-Five

Did anyone enjoy that rickroll? I did. You might need it for this. TW: Death

You were alone in the room again, but were aware of where the others were. They were right outside the door, listening in closely. You could see the shadows of their feet… That didn’t matter right now, though.

“This is (Y/n) (L/n), what happened to Kennedy? What’s going on?”

You heard quite a few deep inhales and it made you fear the worst. Your heart was already thudding against your chest, loud enough that it echoed through your body. “We… We regret to inform you that Kennedy flat-lined ten minutes ago. We were unable to save her from the state she was in.”

The world stopped and your heart dropped. “...W-What?” Your breathing became ragged, too quick to keep up with. There wasn’t any room to find a medium to calm you down, all you could do was let it happen.

“Your daughter passed, Ms. (L/n). We’re very sorry for your loss.” The woman said a few other things, but you couldn’t catch what she was saying. A high-pitched sound filled your ears, drowning anything else out. “Ms. (L/n)?”

The phone dropped from your shaking hands as your hands went to cover your eyes again. Wrecked sobs filled the room as you let it out, shaking and sobbing everything you could muster. You were just there- you were just there. So many things flashed through your mind: your daughter’s first steps, her first word being: fuck! and the day you sent her off to daycare before your deployment… and of course, the last goodbye.

Your sobbing didn’t come close to a stop when you felt someone’s hands go on both your shoulders. You didn’t know who it was, but you threw your arms around them and started to sob even harder than before, if that was possible.

“S-She’s dead. My daughter is fucking dead.” There were several intakes of breaths, a big one coming from whoever you’d thrown your arms around. “K-Kennedy… I’m so sorry…”

Ghost, who’d been the one that was kneeling in front of you, pulled your body off of him. He let out a quiet sigh through his mask, then wiped the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. “C’mon, let’s get you off the floor.” The rest of the team watched in surprise and sadness as Ghost- or Simon, at the moment, carried you to your bed and tucked you into the side you laid on the night before.

You grabbed his arm when he tried to leave, still heavily crying, but managed to get out: “P-Please don’t… Please d-don’t leave me right now.”

Too much… Ghost looked at Soap, desperately, and motioned for the man to come over. Soap dropped his head and walked over, climbing into the bed and taking your body so that he was almost spooning you. “‘S alright, lass. Let it all out, we’re here for you.”

Ghost motioned for the rest of the team to exit the room, as he followed them out, a small pit of regret filled his stomach. Shut the fuck up, Simon. He walked down the stairs with Alejandro and Gaz behind him, pulling out his phone on the way. “I’ll call Price. She won’t be coming back with us if there’s a change with the Hawk.”

-

Price picked up pretty quick. The man sounded exhausted and yawned through his “What’s up, Ghost? Is everything alright there in the land of the free?”

Ghost had stepped outside to put the phone on speaker. “Not… No, sir. Doc just got a phone call from the hospital, her daughter passed shortly after the visit they had.” He set the phone on the wood table on the porch so he could take out a cigarette. “Soap’s with her… she didn’t want to be left alone…”

There was a sharp inhale from Price. “Fuck, that’s not good… my condolences to when she’s able to…” Price exhaled. “She’ll stay in America for the time being. Medical Sergeant (L/n) won’t be in the right mindset to return back to work. However, in terms of not wanting to be left alone, have you seen or heard of anyone she knows that could be with her?”

Ghost sighed. “Her neighbors are good people, sir. They’ll probably want to check up and be with her at this time, they seem to have a connection with Kennedy (L/n) as well.” He looked at a photo that was on the wall of someone, a man in a similar military uniform to you- just with the British flag instead of an American- standing next to you, an arm on your shoulder as you were much shorter than him. “Do you have contact with Sergeant Gary Sanderson?”

A/N: How about THAT plot twist? I’m full of them.

Part Twenty-Six

Taglist: @redpool, @calicokitkat, @abbiesxox, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @tescomealdeals-blog, @judachoo, @cabreezer0117, @reiya-djarin, @cutiecusp, @m0chac0ffee, @cassie-vizsla, @seasaltt99, @lazy-kari202, @comedinewithmeyeah, @somnibats, @badpvn, @peachy-is-obsessed, @bookoffracturedghosts, @dorck26, @adeptusnunya, @wonusbitch, @m00vp, @user1727381919

[angry-geese]

Can I request nsfw+fluff gojo x fem!reader? (established relationships) Just gojo being horny and needy after weeks not seeing reader due to work. (Uuuu and may I add breeding kink too <3 ) Lmaooo what's wrong with me✋🏻😔 I love your works btw and just take your time💕💕 here *slides a cookie 🍪 *

YESSSS gojo + breeding kink is top tier. i got a little carried away with this one lol

When We Meet Again

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: shameless smut. oral (fem receiving), creampies, mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, fluff and smut. slight somnophilia (kinda??) fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

jjk masterlist

It's well past midnight by the time he gets home.

Save for a single light in the kitchen, the apartment is dark. Leftover pastries sit out on the counter, covered with a bowl to keep bugs from getting to them, alongside your keys, and an empty mug of tea. A grocery list has been stuck to the fridge. A rack of dishes sits beside the sink, drying.

You're not in your usual spot on the couch. He's not surprised. It's late. And though you don't have work in the morning, you were never one to stay up so long. You must have gone to bed already. You might have stayed up had he bothered to tell you he was coming home. But he didn't. His plans changed at the last moment, and not even he knew he'd be back so soon.

He hates being gone this long. He misses sleeping in his own bed. Sometimes he forgets just how cold a bed can be without someone else in it.

The door to your shared room is open. Though it's dark. There's a faint green glow from the alarm clock on the side table. The moon is full enough tonight to provide a bit of light; a pale silver glow fills the room. And there you are, curled up on his side of the bed. In one of his shirts. A black button up that’s a bit too big for you, with sleeves that hang well past your fingertips.

It's not like he can refuse. If he’s getting called out to help, then there's probably not someone who can go in his place. The strongest doesn't really have time to take a vacation. He’s on call 24/7. Between his teaching job at Jujutsu Tech, and the major clans of Jujutsu society constantly demanding his attention, he’s rather short on free time.

It was a tedious job. Not worth his time. Not particularly tough, albeit time consuming. But the previous two sorcerers came back with nothing. And so he was sent out. Cleaning up someone else's mess.

The first week he called every day. The job wasn’t supposed to take any longer than that. Or so you both assumed. As the second rolled through, your calls grew shorter, and less frequent. He found himself frustrated with the lack of contact. It wasn't either of your faults. Your work called for you to be out during the little free time he had. Overtime. When you did have time to call each other, you were often exhausted, and short with him. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship.

The worst part of it all; he couldn't fuck you. And for a man that could go multiple rounds in a day, that was miserable. His love language is touch. Not being able to hold you was… well, miserable.

You don't really know the extent of the effect you have on him.

He's too tired to change, and he showered before he left, so he strips to his boxers and pulls his side of the blankets aside. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. You always choose Sundays for laundry day, because that's the day before you have to go back to work. There's just enough room between you and the edge of the bed for him to slip in.

When something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's your voice. You’re calling out his name. You aren't awake, and though you do sometimes talk in your sleep, tonight is different. When it does happen, it's usually nonsense. Soft, endearing babble that he can't help but listen to. He says your name, softly, but you don't respond. Enough moonlight streams in through the window to see your face. Your brows are knit in concentration—possibly frustration—and sweat beads in your hairline.

Are you having a nightmare?

The bed dips under his weight as he sits, resting a hand on your thigh. Your skin is rather warm, he notes. You roll over onto your side, burying your face in his pillow. He pulls the blankets up, tucking them around your shoulders, as you’ve kicked them down by your feet in your sleep.

There it is again. You say his name, but there's a level of desperation behind it.

There's no denying the wetness between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together in an unconscious attempt to get some relief. Your breathing is labored.

It's only a moment later that the realization kicks in.

The grin that splits his face can only be described as malicious in nature.

His hand creeps higher on your thigh, nudging the hem of your—his—shirt up. You’re not wearing anything underneath. The sight of your slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention.

His gaze falls to the curve of your hips, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. He likes the light of you in his shirt a little more than he likes to admit. Though he’s never been quiet about how much he appreciates your body.

Your body freezes the moment his thumb grazes across your slit. So does he. You’re so wet. Must be a real nice dream. You roll onto your back, your legs parted slightly. The soft gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Gojo takes this as an invitation to continue, his hand moving further up your thigh, lazily tracing circles into it.

You must've missed him more than he expected.

Your body registers that someone is touching you before it registers just who is doing such. In your sleepy, dream-ridden state you don't recognize the figure in front of you. In the dim light of the room, you can make out a mess of white hair, and the reflection of dark, round glasses shoved up into his hairline. Gojo’s eyes practically reflect in the dark.

You jolt awake, sitting up. “Jesus christ-”

“‘S just me, Mochi,” he says, though it does little to settle your nerves.

If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now.

“What? You watch people in their sleep now?!” You scold. “‘Toru- you scared the hell out of me!”

You flop back on the bed. The blankets pool around your hips. You reach to pull them back up, finding your bed colder than usual.

"You were calling out my name." He says.

"Oh," you say, and though there's little light in the room, he watches your face flush, "must have been dreaming about you."

“Wanna recreate what you were dreaming?” He asks. Rather smugly, might you add.

You roll your eyes. “Go to sleep.”

"Scoot over then. I'm gonna fall off the bed."

This prompts an evil sounding giggle from you, followed by a: "fall then."

"Alright," he says, rolling over to lay on you, throwing his arm around your waist. You’re effectively pinned under him, as the awkward angle won't allow you any leverage to throw him off. He attacks the exposed part of your neck with kisses, sucking hickeys into the flesh of your neck and shoulders. His hair tickles your skin.

“‘Toru- stop!” You squeal. “Let me go-”

“Not until you apologize,” he says, planting a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Never!”

“Then I guess I won't let you go.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. One of his hands finds your own, his fingers lacing with yours. His legs tangle with yours in a way that holds them in place. Worming out of his grip in this position would be a near impossible task.

You suppose there’s worse fates than this.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't so warm. Or if he didn't smell so nice. Or if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes. His thumb traces soft circles around your knuckles. Gojo’s breath is warm against your neck, making goosebumps rise along the soft flesh. The steady sound of it is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

"I missed you." You say. Your voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I know.” He says. His arms give your midsection a reaffirming squeeze. “I missed you too.”

“How was work?”

“A shitshow,” he says, leaning to nip at your earlobe, “but I get to come home to you, so it’s not all bad. How’s everything been around here?”

“Quiet.” You say. “Kinda boring without you. I wish you told me you’d be home tonight. I would have done something special.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision.” He says. “I didn't expect to be home so soon either.”

“We should do something tomorrow, then,” you say, “a new ramen place opened up down the street. You know where the old bakery used to be? They leased the place out.”

Gojo hums in response. Ramen sounds nice. Especially now. But he’s too tired and too horny to worry about food. Why have ramen when he has a meal right in front of him? Or a snack, as he often likes to call you. To which you roll your eyes, but there's no denying how he makes you blush.

You take back what you said about finding it easy to sleep. He’s moving around a bit too much for that. Gojo isn't subtle about it either. Nothing about the man is. He foregos subtly in favor of announcing nearly everything he does. Loudly. Who would dare stop him?

But you guess it's part of his charm. His dorky, sappy charm. You’ve kind of signed up for it, so you’re not complaining.

You scoot away from the edge of the bed a bit, thinking he needs more room. Gojo pulls you back to his chest, thinking you’re trying to run away from him.

“Quit squirming.” You hiss.

“Sorry Mochi,” he says, “just tryna get comfortable.”

And he really does mean it. But he’s been gone from you for so long that he's forgotten how nice your body feels against his. A little too nice, he’ll admit. Phone sex is nice, but it's not the same as the real thing. It gets old after a while. His hand doesn't quite compare to yours. Or the real thing. Something hard presses against your thigh from behind.

That's when it clicks. You just smell so nice. Your body is so warm against his. You look so nice in his shirt. Can you really blame him for getting hard?

You aren't sure he knows that you know. You shift a bit. It appears you’re only trying to get comfortable. His grip around your waist loosens, allowing you to settle a bit closer to him. You can't help it if your shirt rides up a bit, exposing the perfect curve of your ass. He prefers you in nothing at all, though the sight of you wearing his clothes is certainly a nice one. Any sight of you is. Gojo is shameless in the way he adores your body.

Once settled, his arms return to your waist. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s doing little to hide the tent he sports in his boxers. Maybe he thinks you don't notice. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore it.

“Stop that,” he says.

“I'm not doing anything,” you say, with the same evil giggle as before.

“Why do I not believe you?”

His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulsepoint. The sudden sensation of lips on your neck makes you squeal. In your ear he coos every sappy nickname in the book that makes you blush.

You hardly notice as his hand trails lower. Your legs part just enough for him to slip his hand between them. He does nothing but seek out your warmth. Yet.

A familiar tension returns to your stomach. It's not unpleasant.

So that's what he was doing. Not that you’re complaining.

“Missed you, Mochi,” he says, gasping at the wet feeling of your cunt, “missed you so much. You have any clue what it's like being around all those weird old men all day? For days on end, no end in sight?”

It always surprises you just how bad the man can be with words, yet how good he is with his mouth.

His fingers find your clit, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. Your breath catches in your throat. You can't deny how nice his long fingers feel inside of you.

“Seems like you’ve missed me too.” He says, his breath warm against your ear.

“Whatever you want to think, old man,” you say. Though you have missed him. You always do. But there's some fun to be had by teasing him.

“Old man?!” He sounds genuinely hurt. “Don't be like that. I know you like having me around.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

His fingers move to press into the tight entrance of your cunt, his thumb brushing across your clit. The soft gasp that leaves you is practically music to his ears. To give him credit, he is good with his hands.

“Did you think about me while I was gone,” he coos, “did you touch yourself while you did it? I did. Couldn't keep my mind off this sweet cunt of yours. I think I want a taste.”

Your only response is a soft moan. Heat pools low in your stomach, growing in intensity with each skilled movement of his hand. He moves so you can lay on your back. Your hands find the sheets, holding them in a death grip. Gojo nudges your legs further apart with one of his knees.

The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, and needy. He moans nearly as loud as you when you nibble on his bottom lip, hips lips parting, allowing the strong muscle of your tongue to explore his mouth.

Your hands work to undo the top few buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. His free hand comes up to grope appreciatively at your tits. Gojo has never been shy about how much he adores them. Or shy ever, to his credit. You’re his, and he would show you off to the world if you’d let him.

But sometimes he prefers to steal you into his domain, and hold you there. Close. Where you’ll always be at his side. The one place in this universe he can truly promise you’ll be safe.

You hardly notice as his kisses trail down your neck. Down the valley between your breasts. Working the last few buttons of your shirt open with his long fingers. What you do notice is the sudden absence of his hand.

Your legs part to give him room to settle between them. His head rests on your stomach. His warm breath tickles your skin.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" He asks, nipping at your thigh.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. Slowly, you nod.

You gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. He's not touching you where you need him most. And that frustrates you. You buck your hips up towards his mouth, eliciting a soft laugh from him. He can't tease you too long. His cock is painfully hard, leaking against his thigh in his boxers. He can only hold himself back for so long.

You freeze at the feeling of a hot tongue against your clit.

Gojo eats pussy like a starving man, presented with his favorite meal. He does nothing short of savoring you. How you smell, how you taste, how you sound. He's shameless in how he adores this. Gojo moans nearly as loud as you at the taste of your cunt. Sweeter than his favorite dish. Meant to be savored.

You can't deny that he's good with his mouth. His tongue works circles around your clit, drawing gasps and moans from you.

Heat builds in your stomach, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. One that comes upon you far sooner than expected.

Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

Your thighs clench around his head as you cum hard. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through it with his skilled mouth. He’d stay with his head between your legs forever if you’d let him. Which you don't, as overstimulation soon registers in your lust addled mind, and you shove his head away.

The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light, wet with saliva, and your own slick. He’s far from subtle in the way he licks his lips, or groans at your taste. He may have gotten a bit too excited. It's not unlike him to get carried away. How can he resist a fertile cunt like yours?

“I think you should taste yourself,” he says. His hands move to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips. His hardened cock grinds against his thigh.

“‘Toru-” you whine.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me.” You say. “I need you, ‘Toru. I need your cock in me.”

“Why didn't you say so?” He says, though the desperation in his voice is palpable.

He wastes no time in shoving his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

He’s not the most intimidating in size, but his cock is nice, and fairly thick, with a slight upward curve. The patch of hairs towards the base are soft, and white. Generally you don't need a whole lot of prep to take him. Which is helpful when he can't keep his hands to himself, and insists on fucking you in the bathroom during dinner. As much as he likes to take his time with you, he’ll take you anywhere you’ll let him. At work, or over every flat surface of your apartment. Not a single room of your home was spared. Not that either of you mind.

“Gotta work you open first,” he says, “don't want you to be too tight, do we?”

Between his saliva, and your own slick, you put up little resistance. He’s able to slide one finger in. Then a second, with no issue. His fingers curve, stroking your g-spot. His thumb works soft circles around your sensitive clit as he works you open with his fingers. Really, this is unnecessary. Your cunt is practically dripping with your own arousal.

He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste of you. Gojo really has no shame.

The moan he lets out as he sheathes himself is truly sinful.

It's another moment before he starts thrusting.

Gojo needs a moment to collect himself. He’s been working himself up for hours if not days. All the nights he spent, thinking of what he’d do to you once he got home. He’s gone over this day in his head about a hundred times.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His taunts turn into senseless babble. Strands of praise mixed with Gojo’s overall dorky remarks. Pleas of your name, calling you mochi, baby, honey, and every other sappy nickname he can think of. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He’s not going to let you leave this bed until you’re thoroughly marked up.

Tension grows in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. Your previous orgasm has left you overly sensitive, and leaves another orgasm creeping up on you sooner than expected. His hand falls to your stomach, working lower until his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub.

He presses your legs further back, shoving them almost to your chest. The stretch leaves a pleasant burn in your hips. Your body isn't really meant to bend this way, though it’s not completely uncomfortable. It's not long before he has you into a full mating press, rutting against you desperately, fucking you into the mattress. The bed frame groans in protest with each of his thrusts. Deep, and unrelenting. Gojo’s cock curves in such a way that hits your sweet spots just right, leaving you writing under him.

“Gonna put a baby in you, Mochi,” he says, “gonna breed this pretty cunt of yours.”

You nod along desperately. You want nothing more than for him to cum inside, filling you completely.

He silences your moan with a kiss, his teeth clashing against yours. His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the wet cavern of your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him.

A line of saliva connects your lips as he pulls away.

“Not gonna ask you to take all of it,” he says, “but take everything I got.”

And with that, he can't hold back any longer, painting your womb white. Gojo’s cum is normally thick, and there's normally a lot of it. Today even moreso. Two weeks away hasn't helped with that. Cum runs down your thighs in streams, ruining your sheets.

The elders aren't going to be happy that he’s so reckless with his precious seed, but Gojo couldn't give a damn. The elders can talk all they want. That's all they're good for. He gets to cum in a warm place, and that's more than any of the others can say.

He practically collapses on top of you.

Gojo shifts so less of his body weight is on top of you. And though the room is rather warm, you find yourself nuzzling into his body, seeking out his warmth. His arms have always given you a sense of security, especially when wrapped up in them. They find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

For a moment the two of you lay there, basking in each other's warmth.

You’ll have to get up in a bit anyway. To clean yourself up, and change the sheets. And get a new shirt. Probably another one of Gojo’s. He’s never been against seeing you wear his clothes. They never stay on you for long, though.

You pry his arms off, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, but he notices, and tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding rather offended.

“To get a drink,” you say, “I'm thirsty. Why? Do you want one too?”

“You think I’d let you go after just one round?” He asks. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve fucked you full of my cum.”

You're in for a long night.

[lovelybarnes]

restless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and steve rogers warnings: mentions of nightmares and clingy bucky but it’s mostly fluff about: bucky can’t sleep without y/n a/n: i was going to post this yesterday but i fell asleep :| my computer was literally open and nearly dead when i woke up lmao

today marks one week that you’ve been gone, and with it, the official shortest amount of sleep that bucky has gotten in a week. he supposes it’s sightly pathetic that he can’t sleep well- or, really, at all- without you, but you continuously tell him you chase his nightmares away for him, and without you there to make them disappear, where else will they go but deep into the crevices of his mind, where they’ll hide long enough for him to let his guard down and lull himself to sleep, only to wake up with the ugly memories of things he hoped he’d forgotten. he’s constantly told that his attachment to you is overbearing- not by you, though. never by you- because it must be, with how much he clings to your side, always touching some part of you so that he’s sure that, yes, you’re there. not a dream or an illusion, although you’re good enough to be one.

he misses every part of you; your fingers and the way they run through his hair, trace his features with such tenderness he nearly believes he is what you see, your voice and its ability to transform the most mundane words into the greatest poetry, sing soft songs into his skin until he’s fallen asleep, your eyes and how they examine him in the best way possible, glowing when they meet his.

he longs for you, but he can only imagine your smile, the bitter reminder that you’re probably showing it to some psychopath for the mission you’re on. he hates steve every time the memory is evoked, the panic that comes with your being used as bait for some of the most screwed up villains in the world only returning stronger. he’s tempted to go get you himself, uncaring if he screws up the mission because at least he’ll have you.

stark will call him pathetic, then go to bed with the love of his life, so bucky prefers keeping his thoughts about you to himself, much like he’d like to keep you. you’ve told him you can handle yourself, and bucky never doubts it, having been victim to the using of your skills when he first encountered you as the winter soldier. you kicked his ass then, and you kick any and all ass now.

it doesn’t help his sleeping schedule, though your calls do. he swears you’re an angel because there’s no way a normal human could glow like that through a screen, but you always laugh off his words and simply tell him to turn his brightness down. however, you haven’t taught him that yet, so he greets you with the same sentence every time. his smile is always brighter after your calls, the dark bruises under his eyes reduced as if he got a full night’s rest. it’s your effect on him, and as much as everyone teases you both for it, they appreciate it.

you’re due to come back in a week or two, but bucky is unsure he can wait that long, and judging from your chirpier-than-usual voice in your latest interaction, you’ve finished early, like you always do. he likes to imagine it’s because of him, behind the deprecating voice that screams at him why would it be? (the answer is that you love him and hate every second you’re away from him)

sam scoffs when he overhears him telling that to steve, sitting down next to bucky, “man, there is no way you can tell that from a phone call. even if you could, i know she’s good, but to shave two weeks off mission time? natasha hasn’t even been able to do that.” a proud smile grows on bucky’s face without his permission as he shrugs, “she’s that good,” he brags, choosing to ignore the fake gag sam sends his way.

you frown when he tells you what he thinks on your call a few hours later, lips puckering into a small pout, “how did you know? i wanted it to be a surprise!” you ask through a crackled voice. so much for state of the art technology, bucky thinks, but is glad nonetheless to hear your voice. “i know you too well, doll. you’re really coming back today?”

you nod excitedly, biting your bottom lip. “mhm! i missed you and my bed too much to stay here a moment longer. villains are such pervs,” you complain, nose scrunching. bucky’s jaw sets when he hears your words, immediately thinking the worst. “but, i’m coming back today, so it’s fine. what do you want to do when i get back?”

bucky shrugs, “be with you,” he answers simply, making you laugh. “other than that, dummy. we could watch a movie, have a little date night to make up for the one i missed while i was gone.” bucky grins at this, remembering his plans for that night. “okay,” he agrees, “we’ll watch one of those movies on my list. although sam put some weird ones.”

you concur through chuckles that pass through the phone, reminding him how much you love him. he swears an oath to never let you go again and bites back a yawn that you see right through. “you’re sleeping the moment i get back,” you instruct, and bucky nods with your words, even when the sole idea of your being within arm’s reach is obviously too enticing to pass up for sleep. “whatever you want, doll. as long as you’re here.” he replies, thinking about spending the night pressing kisses to your hair and checking for any injuries you may have withheld from him.

the sentence is dishonest and you both know it, but you leave it at that, missing him too much and sure he’ll rest with how exhausted he must be. you say goodbye without the actual words, only giving a blown kiss and a “see you later.”

bucky spends the rest of the hours without you thinking of you, skimming through the words written in the little blue notebook you got him to replace his old one. that one sits on his dresser, the disuse proven by the layer of dust that covers it. the names he spent hours agonizing over, tracing his fingers over the indents made by the pen, are hidden by its cover. they never fade from his mind, though. only half of the pages of the one you gave him are blank now, and the ones that aren’t are bright and white, inviting him to drop his pen on the lines and jot whatever reference he didn’t understand but wants to. he eyes the names of the movies and shows, some accompanied by quotes that refer to them. “new girl: nick miller,” he reads, remembering how one of your friends said he was the avenger version of the character. “friends: ‘joey doesn’t share food,” sam told him that one when he didn’t let him have any of his chips. he looks at clueless, recalling the way all of his teammates stare at scott whenever the movie comes up. there are a couple pages like this, some of them recommendations and others titles he kept hearing. tonight, he decides on starting a new show, but he leaves the actual show up to you to decide.

you arrive a couple hours later, when stars have littered the darkness that bled through the sky. it’s all very rom-com-filmesque, the way you light up when you see his face- even through how tired you clearly are- and how you jump into his arms, ignoring the ache in your muscles because the way his arms wrap around you seems to make it disappear. he gathers you in his arms and kisses everywhere on your face, treasuring your laugh and the feeling of your lips pressing to his shoulder when you hug him again.

even when you pull away, he doesn’t let go of your hand, flesh fingers tracing small circles into your skin. you don’t complain, even when steve shoves papers in front of you and asks you to sign them with a sheepish look. sam comes by and teases bucky lightheartedly, hounding bucky to let you have both your hands. you chuckle at his request and squeeze bucky’s fingers, kissing the back of his hand, “oh, no, he better not,” you half-joke. he smiles, red tinting his cheeks as he gently draws you closer.

you don’t feel like driving at the moment, and you need to water your plants, completely sure that wanda forgot to do it, so you end up going to your room, even though you spend most of your time at his own room or your apartment outside the compound. you can tell how little the room has been used by the spotless counters and floors, furniture clean of any of the knickknacks you usually leave. you only sleep here when bucky leaves for long missions, his absence is overly blatant when he’s gone, and your plants keep you from feeling too alone.

you usher bucky inside, tugging open your drawers to search for something for him to wear. you grin at the soft fabric under the pads of your fingertips, recalling the memory of stealing them from bucky’s closet to soak in his scent when you couldn’t have the real thing. the considerable use has washed away all traces of him, and you decide that needs to be fixed, picking out clothing for him.

you change into one of his old shirts and make tea while he changes, smiling when you feel his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your jaw. “what do you want to watch tonight?” he asks, and you contemplate it while you pour your drinks, shoveling spoons of sugar into each one to make it as sweet as possible- his favorite. “new girl, i think you’ll like it,” you reply after a moment.

he unravels his arms from around you, taking the mugs from the counter and following you to your room after you peck his cheek in thanks. “okay, i want to see what this nick miller is all about,” bucky says, making you laugh softly. “c’mon,” he urges, opening his arms for you after setting the cups down. you cuddle up to his side after you grab your computer, setting up netflix and choosing the show.

halfway through the first episode, bucky feels the fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks, hours of missed sleep catching up to him now that he’s finally relaxed and comfortable. keeping his eyes open is a job all on its own, and the sweet smell of your hair combined with the way your fingers move on his chest, softly writing letters and drawing shapes, is too much to resist.

you barely notice when he shuts his eyes, the evening of his breathing alerting you he’s succumbed to his tiredness. you stop the video and quietly shut your laptop, placing it on the bedside table while moving as little as possible. he feels you shift through your efforts, pulling you closer in his sleep. you chase away his nightmares like you always do, letting him sleep his first full night since you left.

he wakes up rejuvenated and embarrassed, sputtering out embarrassed apologies that you shush with kind reassurances and tender kisses. he’s reminded of how wonderful you are when you turn, arms extending to reach into your bag and carrying out a small stuffed animal that you say reminded you of him.

[jarofstyles]

Wings: Part I.

The First Glance

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He was the moon.

He was dark. Rough. Cool and raw. But he didn’t hide the truth. His moonbeams shed the light on the deepest, darkest secrets that no one ever wanted to come to light.

His words were sharp and his tone a dark, deep gravel. When he spoke, people paid attention. It demanded respect. His face stoic and smooth, sharp and defined. A handsome face that captivated and terrified all in the same glance. People trembled in his presence and yet still found themselves drawn to his general vicinity.

That was the draw with demons. Something so bad for you, but so hard to resist. How something looked so good but was so terrible for the soul was the perfect to look at. Something told people to stay away but the beauty and the enchantment would override it.

She was the sun.

Bright and warm. Her rays soothing the skin of anyone who passed her by. The energy she had was comfort. The golden glow of her features could have anyone on their knees if she so wished. The friendly aura has people enamored with her for her kindness. Her sweet voice tickled the hearts of anyone who had the pleasure to listen to her.

People often crowded her and followed her around not only with their eyes. They craved her attention and they wished for a shot to be with someone who seemed so magical and untouchable. An open mystery. Feeling close to her without knowing a single thing, even a name.

That was the thing with angels. Something so good but so unobtainable. So warm that sometimes it burned themselves. Their good willed nature and powers for healing made them easy to trust and even more easy to become obsessed with.

How about angel and a demon managed to become some of the most passionate lovers despite it all? That was a tale to tell.

———————

The meeting had been something inconsequential. Angels and demons, despite what you’d believe, tended to stay out of each other’s way. While their nature was to be repulsed by the others activities of choice, there was one thing they’d had in common.

An affinity for sex.

Sex with an angel was unlike anything most humans ever experienced. It was breathtakingly beautiful, real, addictive in its own right. No one would ever forget a night with an angel. So they did have to partially wipe their memories to lessen the chance of obsessive stalking .

It happened more than you’d think.

Demons on the other hand, are what people could expect. Raw. Rough. Hot. Unfiltered. Able to tap into the persons dirtiest and filthiest thoughts and bring them to life if they so choose. Usually, they did. Sex with a demon was exhilarating and slightly terrifying. They shared the same obsessive qualities in humans that angels did, that had them partially wipe their memories.

What wasn’t odd was finding both angels and demons at more risqué places. Strip clubs- demons made hell of a lot of money with some easy compulsion- night clubs… and sex clubs.

That was their pick of poison that night. After volunteering with the animal shelter and doing her part of good in the world, Y/N had set herself in a white dress and set her way to the club for some relief. Orgasms releasing the most amazing endorphins and making her work more efficiently, she loved sex and loved making other people love it too.

Harry had not had as good of a day. Setting up a front to launder money for human criminals to run their money through wasn’t the most devious work… but it was still bad enough. He worked with the worst of the worst. And even for a demon, the chaos could be exhausting. Getting to go to the club and get off with someone was a nice release. Though he couldn’t be as rough as he usually would want to be for the sake of the humans mortal qualities and weaker bodies, he got charged by their sexual energy and deepest, darkest fantasies.

The encounter had been at the bar. Her left shoulder tingled with a cooling sensation as she felt a body bump into hers. Large and hard, his hand steadied on her arm and burned a deliciously cold feeling through the skin as he looked down at the girl.

His own stomach stomach turned as pleasure shot through his body, an odd amount of hot air brushing through his lungs. She was hot. Not just in looks, but energy. Hot like the sun. And it felt good.

An angel. Not the most unusual creature to spot… but he hadn’t ever seen this one before. She should know better than to be there with her halo out, though no one but supernatural and celestial creatures could see.

“Better put away that halo, pretty as it is. S’a magnet for humans.” He murmured, eyes meeting hers for a moment before being distracted by a call of his name. An odd tug had felt through his throat as he walked away, wanting to say more but knowing it wasn’t probably worth anything .

He left Y/N standing there with her mouth opening and closing, the pleasuring of the touch on her bare skin surprising her. She hadn’t met a demon in such close proximity before. Never been touched by one, either.

Why did a touch from a demon feel so good?

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition. 

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

[lucy90712]

morning sickness (pregnancy series)

⚠️emetophobia warning⚠️ a/n: sorry for the lack of posts I’ve been away with awful WiFi 

Series masterlist

George:

The sickness throughout the first part of my pregnancy has been awful and has lasted all of the first trimester and into the second trimester. Every morning I wake up feeling so nauseous and throw up most days not really for any real reason. George has been so good and will try his best to take care of me.

This morning I woke up feeling extra nauseous from the second I opened my eyes so I knew it would be a bad day which happens sometimes but it isn't any fun thats for sure. I felt so awful that I couldn't move but at the same time I really needed to try and eat and drink something to make me feel a little better which is a constant battle that I have with myself.

I stayed in bed until the nausea took over and I had to quickly move George's arm off me so that I could run to the bathroom. I threw up more than I ever thought I could before resting against the sink to regain some composure even though I still felt awful. I threw up again before George came in still half asleep but concerned.

"Are you doing ok?" He asked even though he knew the answer

"Not really" I replied

"How many times have you been sick?" He asked

"Two so far" I answered

He got down on the floor with me and rubbed my back for a minute before going to go and get water for me to sip like he always does. I rested my head on his shoulder and just let him hold me which was the only thing that seemed to help me feel a little better.

When I recovered a little bit we went downstairs so that I could try and eat something but as soon as we got to the kitchen just the smell of the cat made all the nausea come flooding back so I went right back to the bathroom and threw up again. It's is going to be one of those awful days again.

Dream:

I have been so lucky that I haven't really felt too nauseous but there are some days especially at the moment where I feel quick sick. On one of those days like today I normally stay in bed or on the sofa doing nothing under strict orders from Clay who won't let me push myself too far because he wants me to take care fo myself.

This morning I curled up to Clay while he was still asleep because I was feeling pretty bad and he makes me feel better even if its all in my head. He woke up as I moved closer to him and looked at me to see what I was doing.

"You ok there?" He asked

"I feel sick" I replied

"Do you think you are going to throw up or just feel sick?" He asked

"I probably won't throw up but I feel pretty bad" I said

That was enough for him and he lifted me up carrying me to the living room and putting me down on the sofa before going to the kitchen where he came back with water. Which he gave me as he got on the sofa behind he so that he could cuddle me.

We spent the whole day cuddled together on the sofa watching films and Clay cancelled his plans for the day or pushed them back until this evening so that he could take care of me.

Sapnap:

I have struggled so much with sickness throughout the pregnancy so far an not even just nausea I throw up multiple times a day. It's awful and just so exhausting but I can't sleep because I feel so sick which is just the worst endless cycle. Sapnap tries his best to help me and be there for me but he hates watching people throw up which I understand but he is there for me when I'm not throwing up.

This morning I was doing pretty good and hadn't thrown up yet and I've been up for about 45 minutes which is quite unusual for me I have even made myself some breakfast which normally makes me throw up but maybe I'm slowly getting over this sickness. I went to wash the dishes but as soon as I got the washing up liquid open the smell sent me right back to my constant state of sickness.

I ran to the bathroom and threw up all the breakfast I just ate and more which just doesn't seem possible but somehow it is. Sapnap came into the bathroom after watching me run from the kitchen he knew what was happening but he had heard me saying only minutes prior that I felt better today so he knew I would be upset.

"Oh babe I'm sorry" he said sitting down and rub my back

"Why do I have to be sick all the time why can't I just feel better" I sobbed

"I don't know but what I do know is that you are doing such a good job at coping with it and being strong I could never live with this but here you are" he comforted

Sapnap sat with me the rest of the day even when I was throwing up because he knew it was just one of those days where I was really feeling it and he cared more about making me feel better then having to watch me throw up.

Quackity:

I have been so lucky with my pregnancy that I really haven't had any sickness at all I mean sometimes some things will make me feel nauseous but never very bad at all but for some reason today that has changed and I woke up feeling really sick for no apparent reason. I tried getting up to see if getting up and getting on with things would help the sickness to subside but it really didn't at all work if anything I felt worse.

Nothing is helping this sickness either. I have tried everything that google or other people recommend but it isn't helping. Alex has been trying to help too by distracting me to take the edge off which is sweet of him but it wasn't helping a whole lot. He gathered that distractions weren't going to work and so he made me go back to bed so that we could cuddle and watch a movie.

"Just relax love we can have a lazy day and forget about everything else I just want you to feel better" he said

"Thank you Alex but you can leave me if you have something to do" I said

All he did was shake his head and hold onto be tighter which gave me my answer to if he was going to leave me.

Karl:

It's been a bit up and down throughout my pregnancy in term of sickness, some days I feel quite sick and others I'm fine and it doesn't really have a pattern it just really depends on the day. Today happens to be one of the days that I don't feel great after going a good week and a half of feeling good.

Karl got up with me this morning to make breakfast for the both of us as well as get me the things that usually make me feel a little better which I have discovered after trying about a million things on the days I was feeling extra bad. He gave me sprite and tic tacs because both of those things work for me which I had while he ate breakfast while mine was on the side away from me so the smell didn't make me feel worse.

For the whole day Karl was so attentive and barely left my side so that he could take care of me and when he did have to go somewhere he took me with him so that he wasn't far from me at all times.

Wilbur:

I haven't really felt sick since before I found out about the pregnancy which has been so nice and I know I'm very lucky because a lot of people feel very sick for quite a long time. I have been able to eat all the things I normally would without anything making me feel ill which has made me very happy.

Tonight I'm making dinner for Wilbur and I and I had a tomato which I was cutting up and for some reason it made me feel very sick all of a sudden. I tried to keep going hoping it would go away but it got worse and I felt like I was going to throw up. I ran out of the kitchen and to the bathroom only just making it before I threw up.

Wilbur came into the bathroom seconds later and pulled my hair out of my face and rubbed my back until I was done. He got me some water and let me brush my teeth before picking me up and putting me on the sofa to sit down while he finished making dinner for us. It was weird because I could eat the tomato but the smell of preparing it was too much but it was kind of worth it because the meal was very nice.

From then on Wilbur said he was going to make dinner to avoid that happening again because he knows how much I hate throwing up and he didn't want me to if there was something he could do about it.

[creweemmaeec11]

My Demonic Lullaby

A hero x demon snippet partly inspired by both @the-modern-typewriter and @amethystpath-writes hero and demon snippets. This idea actually predates my sleep paralysis snippet, but I never got around to writing it till their snippets got me back on the hero x demon train 😂 Next part to follow soon hopefully!

Insomnia really sucked, Ellory decided. He was already *exhausted* from the fight with one of the cities top villains earlier that day. He was aching all over, his head was throbbing, it was already 3am and yet he *still* couldn't fall asleep.

The hero rolled over onto his back with a groan, both from annoyance and the pain of moving. His ribs ached, still, open cuts stung. His hands came up to rub his face and eyes.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to sleep like a normal person," Ellory mumbled under his breath.

He closed his eyes, flipped his pillow for the * fourth* time that night, and thunked his head back down to the bed.

"Seriously," he muttered to the empty air, "what is it going to cost for me to sleep?"

Ellory had asked the question more to himself, as if asking his brain what he had to do to finally get the rest he so desperately craved.

He wasn't expecting an *actual* answer.

"Need some help?" a low and smooth voice asked from what sounded like the corner of the room.

Ellory tried to snap his head in the direction of the voice, only to be unimpressed by the fact he couldn't move.

"*Oh you have GOT to be kidding me*" Ellory mentally groaned, "*I ask to sleep and what do I get? Sleep paralysis, and even a disembodied voice hallucination to go with it!*"

Suddenly the voice chuckled, "Not quite,"

Now, the hero wasn't new to sleep paralysis. He didn't get it often, but every now and then it would creep its way in. This was the first time it had ever happened *before* going to sleep though. It was also the first time he'd ever hallucinated.

Ellory knew that there were others who had crazy hallucinations, even knew one hero who said they got them almost every night. (Even though they gave Ellory a weird look when they said they'd been getting better recently) Luckily for him though, prior to tonight, the worst he'd ever seen was a shadow or two.

His eyes turned, glancing over as best he could to the corner of his room. Despite the darkness, he could see some vaguely human-shaped swirling shadow. The only way he could make it out at all was because it was somehow even *darker* than the shadows around it.

Luckily, the shadow was just kind of standing there, and despite what his other hero friend had said, it didn't look very scary...

The hero mentally sighed again, letting his eyes slip closed. He was *so* tired. Why couldn't he just sleep?!

"That would probably be the insomnia," the voice stated sarcastically.

"*Thank you captain obvious,*" the hero mentally retorted, before stopping, "*great, now I am literally having a conversation with myself. Maybe villain DID hit me in the head too hard today,"*

The disembodied voice snickered again. Though highly amused, it wasn't mocking or unkind.

"No, you're head is fine. But you never answered my question," the shadow-thing said, its vague shape shifting over, more into Ellory's sight.

Whatever hallucination his brain had come up with didn't seem to be going away any time soon.

"*And that was?*" the hero replied. He had nothing better to do than to just amuse... well, himself; he supposed.

"Would you like some help sleeping?"

"*I would LIKE to be asleep already! And real sleeping, not this nonsense,*"

"I can help," the voice offered, seemingly as the shape took a step forward.

"*Oh I'm sure you can*" the hero replied sarcastically, "*If so, then why aren't you?*"

"You need to say yes for us to make a deal,"

Whatever hallucination Ellorys brain had decided to come up with, it certainly picked... an interesting voice. There wasn't anything wrong with the voice itself, in fact, it was quite pleasant to listen to. It sounded slightly masculine, low and gentle, yet not raspy in the slightest, like whatever this illusion was had never had a sore throat in their life. The weird thing, was it sounded confident and in control, but *wasn't*. The hero had been around villains enough to detect when a false bravado was just that; fake.

Especially with nothing else to do but listen, Ellory was able to easily pick up on the slight hesitations, the shaky undertones, and even the way the tones shifted, despite his sleep-deprived state.

Why would his brain come up with such a random yet weirdly detailed hallucination?

Maybe he *had* hit his head more than once.

"*A deal?*" the hero groaned again, "*Just sleep already!*"

"I can ensure you get a good night's rest every night, if you'd like...just tell me; do I have your permission to help you sleep?"

"*Yes! Please!*" Ellory internally cried. He was arguing - no, *begging* - his own hallucination. That's what tonight has devolved to.

"Very well then," the disembodied voice hummed. The last thing the hero remembered was opening his eyes to see the shadow move closer before things went black.

The next thing Ellory knew, he awoke the next morning, feeling shockingly well-rested.

What a weird dream he'd had last night.

The hero moved to get up, before remembering he was injured and braced for the wave of pain... only for nothing to come.

He looked down, lifting up his shirt to examine his abdomen and... what the hell?

What had previously been a sprawling mess of deep slashes, purplish-black bruises and swelling was now nothing more than a few scrapes, small cuts and the occasional tender spot.

Ellory skimmed his fingers across the surface of his skin, baffled.

Had it just looked worse in the dark? That made no sense.

Regardless, he wasn't about to complain, and he didn't have time to dwell on it. Being a hero meant busy days.

Unfortunately, as the week progressed, the strange occurrences only escalated.

While walking down the stairs the following day, Ellory tripped, nearly going head over heels, before something seemed to suddenly catch him, turning him in the air and standing him upright again.

It had happened so fast. Maybe his reaction times were better than he'd thought? Regardless, Ellory just brushed it off.

But then the following day, one of the cities villains threw a knife at him. He would have reacted to it too slowly if the knife hadn't suddenly stopped in the air mere millimetres in front of him before dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Now he was officially a little weirded out.

But the events just kept happening.

Doors were opening in front of him, only to close when he walked through. He'd knocked a glass of water off the counter, only to look down and see it had landed perfectly, not a drop spilt. His mail from the apartment mailboxes had appeared on his kitchen table when he didn't remember going to get it. Lights were flicking on and off when he'd enter or leave a room. One night he'd even realized he felt a bit chilly, only to hear the heater turn on seconds later.

One night, he fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up with a blanket over him he *swore* wasn't there when he fell asleep.

And yet, the hero had also been getting a great rest every night, drifting off almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It wasn't until today, however, that Ellory really began to panic.

The hero had been on the rooftop of an office building, with a villain *on top* of him. (These events had really throw Ellory off his game)

This specific villain, however, wasn't particularly nasty, and Ellory had successfully reasoned with them before, and so despite the knife to their throat, they weren't quite panicked yet.

Said knife was still being held a couple inches away from their throat, more of a warning to stay down than an actual threat of "I'm one word away from slitting your windpipe open,"

"You, are becoming an increasing pain in the ass,"

The hero gave a small smile, "trust me, the feeling is mutual, but you know I can't let you do this,-"

He was cut off by the villain thrusting the knife much closer, "I wasn't aware you-"

Suddenly, without warning, the villain was launched back into the air, catapulted off him. Ellory watched them skid across the roof where they landed a couple meters away.

Whatever the villain saw when they looked back up made the colour drain from their face. They immediately pushed themselves up to their feet, staggered back a few steps, eyes wide, before they turned tail and fled.

The hero was frozen.

*What the hell?!*

Ellory looked down at his shaking hands.

*What the hell just happened?!*

Quickly, the hero got to his feet and took off home, completely panicked. He ran as fast as he could, as if something was chasing on his heels, breathing down his neck. It felt like his own shadow wanted to catch him.

*Something was wrong* *Something was really wrong*

As soon as he made it into his apartment, Ellory ran into his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.

He looked normal, though slightly red, which was just the consequence of being so out of breath. He was panting, breathing heavily and shaking. His hair was also a mess, a combination of both the frantic running and previous fight.

He could hear the frantic drumming of his heart in his ears.

Ellory took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. Grip tightening on the counter's edge.

Bending down into the sink, he splashed his face with cold water.

He was patting his face dry with a towel when a voice behind him startled him.

"I'm sorry...."

Ellory's head shot up. In the mirror, he could see a dark shadowy figure in the corner of the bathroom behind him.

The hero immediately whirled around, but was greeted by nothing more than an empty bathroom. His eyes wandered around warily, but not a thing seemed out of place.

Great, was he hallucinating now too?

He sighed, relaxing from the scare before turning back to the mirror and-

Ellory froze.

There in the mirror, in the same spot as before, was the shadowy figure.

He glanced back and forth between the mirror and back corner, but the dark humanoid shape was only visible in the reflection.

There was a few moments of silence as the hero simply stared, brain reeling, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The shape was in constant motion, shadows swirling gently, like a foggy aura surrounding a much darker silhouette. The constant movement made it near impossible for the eye to focus on any one part of it, as if trying to see the individual particles in a stream of smoke.

The silhouette inside the aura was a bit more defined, at least around the head and shoulders. Apart from the clearly humanoid shape, the darker mass had no other identifiable features; except for its eyes, which were like two white voids, with a slightly darker pupil in the center.

Said eyes met Ellory's momentarily, before being cast downwards almost sheepishly.

That's when it clicked. The sheepish posture. This was the same shadowy figure from nearly a week ago.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything to say.

The figure seemed to take the action to mean he'd had enough time to process.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," they apologized, sounding genuine.

The hero blinked.

*This was really happening*

"What..." the hero managed, barely getting the words out of his mouth. His brain had stalled.

"I was only trying to help," the shadow went on to explain sheepishly.

Something in the hero's stomach seemed to drop, "What... what are you?" He asked nervously.

"I think you know what I am," the demon replied quietly.

Ellory swallowed.

"Why can I only see you in the mirror now when I could see you fine last time?" He asked as if that was the most pressing question at the moment. Perhaps it was the only question he could handle the answer to right now.

"You may want to change your definition of 'fine', you were experiencing sleep paralysis last time,"

Finally, Ellory's brain seemed to catch up, "Why are you here again?"

The shadow in the corner seemed to still slightly, "I'm here because we made a deal,"

Deal...? They didn't make any... wait-

"You tricked me?!"

"Hey!" The demon snapped indignantly, posture suddenly defensive, "Not entirely! I've kept up my end of the deal! You haven't had any trouble sleeping this week have you‽"

Well, no... but...

The hero couldn't help but swallow nervously again, "so then what's *my* end of the deal?"

The shadow's posture instantly deflated again, "just let me hang around, basically..."

Hang around what? His house? Surely not because the demon had been there when he was fighting the villain so clearly-

"You possessed me!?" Ellory realized, eyes widening.

"No!" They replied, sounding almost horrified at the idea, "possession would be taking over control entirely! I'm just... taking up residence in the back corner?"

"What!?"

"Please don't send me back!" The demon pleaded. Their voice was suddenly so *desperate* sounding. The hero could even see the desperation in their white eyes. "I'll do whatever you want I promise! I'll go back into hiding and won't do anything! You won't even know I'm here I swear! I-"

The shadow was full-on rambling now, sounding more and more desperate with every word.

It was probably absurd that his heroic instincts flared, but he couldn't help it! This... being(?) really sounded like they were in trouble. Like they were genuinely scared.

"Hey, hey, it's okay-" Ellory interrupted, holding his hands up and taking a step forward. His heart sank when the figure flinched back, sinking in on itself and pinning its eyes closed as if bracing for something.

When nothing happened after a moment, the demon risked opening their eyes again. Still, they never said anything, just sheepishly stood in the corner as if waiting for a verdict, looking like they wanted nothing more than to hide in their own shadow.

Ellory took a deep breath, surveying the situation. The creature in front of him certainly didn't seem dangerous... and he hadn't tried to hurt the hero at all. Being able to sleep without any problems was also a nice bonus...

"so your... not... going to hurt me or anything?"

The shadow shook its head almost frantically.

"Ok..." Ellory took another deep breath, "As long as you don't hurt me, and don't do anything unless I tell you to, you can stay, okay?"

The demon in the corner immediately perked up, eyes brightening, "r-really?!"

The hero nodded.

"Thank you!" The shadow cheered, and Ellory would swear he could almost see a smile, "Thank you so much! You won't regret it I promise!"

And then just like that, there was a poof of smoke and the demon's reflection vanished, leaving a confused hero that still had a million questions alone in the bathroom.

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