#but then the sunday is over and i have to go to work :(

[freyito]

ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language. 

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably. 

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about. 

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time. 

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be. 

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning. 

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance’ that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze. 

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child. 

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server (16+) | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[mywritersmind]

SAVIOR - LN4

pt.2

summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.

OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)

listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.

word count : 1878

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.

The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.

Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.

He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.

The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.

“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.

“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.

“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.

“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.

Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.

I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.

“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.

He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”

I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.

“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”

I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”

It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.

“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.

“Aw.”

“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”

I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”

He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.

He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.

“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”

“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.

I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.

“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!

“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.

“As good as I could make it.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”

He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”

I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”

He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.

“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”

He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”

I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”

“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.

“No?”

He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”

I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”

He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”

He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”

I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”

The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.

I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”

“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.

“So ready.”

We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.

I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.

“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.

He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.

He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.

We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”

“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”

He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”

I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”

“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”

I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.

“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.

Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”

“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”

Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”

“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.

Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.

I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”

His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”

I nod, “Yours?”

“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.

“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.

He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”

“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”

He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”

“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.

“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”

The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”

[whatdudtheysay]

Part 1.

Lemme cook....

Y'all I'm thinking of.... Royal army leader Toji whose life long goal was... You. Your kingdom.

He wanted it all. Ever since he met you when you first turned 18, he was infatuated. You were graceful, kind, beautiful, soft, generous....fuck.

But life wasn't fair. He was the head of the royal army, not some ditzy prince who'd meet you at a ball and fill your little head with compliments and promises of affection...only to take control over your kingdom as a husband should do.

And was the kingdoms only heir, that was what would happen. He even heard you crying to your lady's maid about it one night while he was heading to your father's study.

Poor little thing.

Toji wanted you. No...that was an understatement. He needed you. He needed you so bad It was painful. He'd treat you better than any of those annoying Princes. He would worship any breath you took....

But like he knew....life wasn't fair.

Little did Toji know....you had somewhat of a crush on him too.

On the day you turned 18 and had the most boring birthday party, most of it was spent sitting down on the third throne your parents had created for you. Or...paid for it to be created. They hated getting their hands dirty.

Comfortable but not too much. Pure gold they said. It was becoming boring. But you couldn't complain. You were blessed to be born as the princess. The only princess of your kingdom.

So, you sat straight, chin up with a soft smile as thousands of villagers and merchants came through, giving you different gifts, gold, jewellery... etcetera.

You wanted to use the excuse of needing the bathroom but just then, the trumpets sounded and in came the royal guards. Your eyes lightly widened when you saw him.

First lieutenant, Fushiguro Toji.

He was tall as shit and handsome as hell. 6ft and 2 inches of pure perfection....those forest green eyes, that scar that slashed against his lips...his muscular physique. He was more of a man then those princes your parents have been trying so hard to introduce you to.

He dropped to his knee to bow deeply to you, his men doing the same.

"it is my pleasure to finally meet you, your Highness." Toji greeted. "May I?"

You nodded slightly, stretching your hand out. Toji smirked in a way that had your heart skipping unhealthy beats as he moved closer, taking your gloved hand in his before pressing a gentle, almost tender kiss against your hand.

Your father noticed whatever was going on between you and cleared his throat, prompting Toji to gently let your hand down as if you were made of glass.

He gave one last bow before leaving .

Now that was a man you'd be fine with marrying....

.

That night, Toji was pulled aside by none other than the king himself.

"Lieutenant Fushiguro....I'd be grateful if you didn't openly ogle my daughter." Your father told him in a firm but calm way.

"ogle?" Toji raised a brow.

"Yes. Ogle. Besides I'll need your assistance. The Duke from the northern regions will be here this Sunday morning to meet my daughter. You'll guard them." Her father ordered.

Toji kept quiet. He knew what your dad was doing.

It was the royal and rich way of telling him to "mind his place."

But Toji stayed steely gazed and nodded.

"of course, your Highness." He spoke flatly.

Your father gave him one last lingering glance before walking off.

He sighed deeply and glanced at the way your father disappeared.

Sure, your father said he shouldn't ogle you...but he never said he couldn't talk to you. Plus, he'd be in the palace for a while...

What better than to acquaint himself?

-----------

I wanna make this a series so y'all, lemme know 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

A/n - Y'all I'm so sorry about the taglist and all but I'm so disorganised. I'll get the people from the last taglist together and then try to get shit together<3

STILL TRYING TO WORK ON THE MASTER LIST.

Tags - @flamey-comet, @smolbeanzzz, @pandoraium, @hana-patata,

Thanks for support ↑ - if you wanna be added just ask <3

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚editor!reader hc's ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: sfw and nsfw portions !! reader is hamzah's roomie :3

**for this dynamic i also made reader and hamzah both virgins, which comes up in these hc's and will come up more in the future if that's smth y'all want me to elaborate on!**

chat i think im back .......

(sfw)

-getting constantly shouted out in vlogs

"shout out, y/n, our editor. she's on the front lines going through all this footage for you, slushies, yall better be grateful."

-eventually face revealing by being on an episode of the pod. it's titled smth like 'and they were roomates' or 'editor reveal (real)' idk

-the whole pod episode hamzah keeps looking at you every time you speak and 'accidentally' touches your thigh

-there's so many fan accs on tiktok that clip it and air tf out of him 😭😭😭😭

-hazmah tries to explain the dynamic of living with his editor on the pod, but even he doesn't know exactly what it is (and neither do you)

-as unprofessional as it may seem, somehow it works

-hamzah never lets you do all the work. he always offers to help you out when you're starting to get tired or in a slump

"hamzah, it's my job. lemme just finish this-"

"nah, you're clocking out for the night. you've been dismissed." he shoos you away from your shared work desk that you've been sitting at for hours

-as unprofessional as it is, you can't deny how massive of a fucking crush you have on him....especially when he pulls that domestic shit on you

-when you're exhausted from editing, he'll make you food or take you on a late night drive for ice cream in your pj's

-grocery shopping omg he loves that shit so bad !! on sundays you guys go to the store and hit up the farmer's markets downtown. hamzah gets excited every time, he'll wake up hella early each time he's so cute :,)

-if you're not from toronto or canada, he'll show you around his favorite places. in general, he's just happy to have someone to share stuff with (i'll cry)

-CASUAL DOMINANCE !!!! him being your boss and giving you deadlines for vids makes you blush so hard. he's never ever bossy/rude, but he's firm and technical about how he envisions certain vids and you want to deliver for him

-no matter how many times you run through the final edit with him, you still get nervous

-you're hanging onto his every word and facial expression, praying that he likes the way the vid turned out (he always likes it)

-you loves when he laughs at your editing choices, it's lowkey your goal to make him smile/laugh...equal parts job validation and crush validation 🙇‍♀️

-being roommates has led to many, manyyyyy late night mukbangs

-i can just imagine y'all at 2am eating a whole spread of food on the floor in the living room and talking about deep stuff

-speaking of deep stuff, it took you guys a couple months to open up to each other, but one night you were both editing super late and somehow the topic of sex came up....

-you guys bonded over being late bloomers, agreeing to keep each other's secret, which in turn made you closer

-being the slushy editor (and videographer sometimes) means getting to go on trips with them for vids !!!

-getting to go to curaçao and having the room next to hamzah's in the hotel.... (i'll make a separate thing abt this dw)

-i feel like the fans would love you and honestly prefer you and mandy over the boys lmfao

-mandy is so big sister <333 she's so happy to have another girl to be around at long last

-when hamzah and martin are arguing over smth in a vid, they'll drag you in for a third party opinion bc mandy has given up

-if you fall asleep on the couch watching a movie, hamzah will carry you to your bed or at least put a blanket over you. it kinda depends if he's feeling brave or not.

(intimate stuff, some nsfw)

-the sexual tension in the apartment is through the mf roof

-the funny part is neither of you do anything to initiate it, it's just so natural AND YOU BOTH FEEL IT BUT ARE TOO SCARED TO SAY ANYTHING !!!!

-sometimes hamzah will come home from the gym while you're editing...he'll have a thin, fitted shirt on, all sweaty and tired looking

-you pretend not to notice him, fiddling away on your computer with your headphones on (no volume playing ofc), but you have to clench your thighs together sometimes bc the sight is nearly too much to handle

-shower time gives you a heart attack each night

-a couple months into living together, hamzah gave up on getting dressed in the bathroom after his showers, so he'll walk out with just a towel around his waist and grab a drink from the fridge

-when you guys have movie night and there's a graphic sex scene he gets so awkward omfg...he'll go get smth from the kitchen or make a stupid joke so he doesn't get #bricked pretending it's you and him doing those things

-you're almost certain you've heard him jerk off a couple times, but obviously you're too scared too investigate further

-little do you know, he's jerking off to you 🎀

-you wonder if he's ever heard you masturbate, especially bc you're walls are so thin.🗿.......you try to do it when's out, but sometimes him being a wall away from you turns you on too much

-yes, he's knocked on your door in the middle of you doing it 😭

"y/n!! the landlord is here, she has a couple questions and i don't know the answers, please come help me...she scares me."

"i-uh..shit, ok, hamzah, just give me a sec !!!" you're scrambling, trying to put yourself together so it's not obvious you were literally just thinking about him fucking you

-even though you know it's fucked up, him being your boss makes you horny 🤕

-especially when he's peering over your shoulder, pointing out things he thinks you should add to the video. the smell of his cologne, the gentle cadence of his voice, how his hand takes the mouse from your hand and he mumbles a little apology under his breath....lawd....

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @42angelgirl + let me know if u wanna be added !!!!!

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 90)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (68) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (23)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.4k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

YFN POV

“For someone so independent, you’re very needy,” Jordan chuckled.

YFN pouted, looking at her watch again. “They’ve been gone all fucking day. Surely that’s a bad thing?”

The slightly smaller woman shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, what if they’re just tying everything up with a pretty bow to make sure that it’s all sorted today? With both Lucy and Leah speaking, and then our testimonials, along with Ridley and Alexia, and your injury report, surely that’s enough to have Kristie locked up for the foreseeable future.”

Kristie. She never wanted to hear that name again. Lucy had no intention of letting her be in the same room as her, and Leah had offered to go as a character witness, knowing that her fame would make them realise how important of a case it was.

Jordan reached out and squeezed her hand. “It should be an open and shut case. Especially seeing as you didn’t want to go for the harshest punishment.”

“I just didn’t want her doing it to anyone else. She needed to know it was wrong.”

“Some jail time and community service will definitely get the message across.”

“And restraining orders…” she murmured. That had been Lucy’s non-negotiable.

“Leah there is going to throw a spanner in the works too. Her platform is massive. No one in their right mind will want her publicly speaking about how Kristie got away with her friends being stalked and then assaulted to the point of this.”

She gestured to YFN sitting up in the hospital bed.

She squeezed her hand. “Thanks for being here, Dory.”

Jordan’s little smile took over from her serious, friend look. “Of course, mate. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

A few minutes later Lucy’s doctor returned, or rather, her doctor too.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” he said as he stood next to her bed with a gentle smile. He was one of those men that you were always comfortable around. The benevolent type. “The scans are good - better than I expected given your… history.” Another smile, though this one was sympathetic. “Would you like the good news or the very good news first?”

She felt herself let go of tension she didn’t realise she’d been holding.

“Save the best for last.”

“Very well.” He put the scans up on the light box and pointed to her collarbone. “The second surgery went well. The screws are holding, though I’m afraid I need you in the sling to keep it immobile for the next 4 weeks or so..”

She sighed, though knew it was the case. Her Christmas was officially in a sling.

He continued. “Unless there’s an incident, or any issues with pain, I won’t need to give it a check-up until just prior to Christmas, and then I’m hoping to have you out of it for the new year.”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, that’s positive…”

He moved onto the next two x-rays. “Your forearm and wrist are healing well, though I’m afraid the cast will need to remain on for the next 6-8 weeks. We’ll give you a check-up when we get rid of the sling. Your jaw is also healing nicely, I know the bruising has been persistent, but expect it to be gone in the next week or so..”

“I can handle the cast,” she chuckled. “My shoulder is just in need of a good movement.”

She’d just wanted to swing her arm around, to roll her shoulder, instead of having it stuck where it was. It was a level of frustrating that bordered on pain.

“There are a few small massages that you can do to help, though you’ll need to be quite gentle with them, and careful not to shift your collarbone too much.”

He handed her a sheet with the exercises.

“Lucy can help with these. Any issues, give me a call.”

“Thank you,” she replied, gratefully. She was always grateful at the opportunity for Lucy to touch her more.

Jordan took the sheet interestedly and looked over it.

“Now onto your ribs. They’ve been thrown around a bit…” he looked at her with eyebrows raised and she blushed, knowing full well that she’d been abusing them a little too much with Lucy. “…which I understand.” He was politely giving her an out. “You already had several past injuries and you’re very limited with your movements given your state, and so it’s understandable that your ribs are catching the brunt of it. Though, you’ll need to be more mindful. No overexertion. No twisting yourself. No…excessive movements.”

To his credit, he did seem entertained by it.

“I think you should call Lucy and tell her that directly,” Jordan joked.

YFN’s mouth dropped open, though he and Jordan shared a good chuckle at her expense. She made a mental note to not tell Lucy so that she didn’t lose any part of her sex life.

“Now onto your kneecap…”

She braced herself for bad news, but how could it be, when he’d said the worst of it first?

“It was only ever a minor crack, however I wanted you to keep your full weight off of it as you can’t exactly use crutches. I’m going to keep the brace on, however you can walk on it again.”

She grinned – her first thought being that Lucy was going to be so happy. She could picture her face lighting up now.

“Now don’t overdo it. Don’t put all of your weight onto it at once. Place your foot on the ground and ease your weight onto it. It’s a slow process, but you need to build that habit up so you’re not overdoing it. The brace will be on for another few weeks, and I’m hoping to take it off just before Christmas.”

No brace for Christmas. Lucy was going to be thrilled.

“Hoping…” he said again, making sure she understood that it was only a possibility at this stage. “…and you can take the brace off for showers now, just don’t put all of your weight on it in the shower.”

No more garbage bags. She nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

They finished up with him, getting her scripts for medication and some more information. Lucy, ever the anatomy fanatic, would want to know every detail possible. Especially because it was her.

She walked slowly to the car, relished the feel of being able to use her legs like legs again. She was officially The Little Mermaid.

She groaned the relief for her hips and lower back as she did so, knowing this would take a lot of strain from Lucy needing to carry her around.

She slipped into Miles, Lucy’s car, and Jordan slipped into the driver’s seat. The footballers had taken Leah’s Mercedes as it was lower to get into and Lucy hadn’t wanted her dropping into the seat and struggling to get out.

It was later in the afternoon now, and she looked at the time, wondering why it was all taking so long.

“Celebration dinner?” Jordan asked.

“Why do I feel like you all had this planned already?”

“Maybe. You know Lucy…”

“Has she messaged you?!” She looked over at Jordan who seemed to barely be able to see over the steering wheel. She gave a sympathetic smile. “No, sorry. But the table is still booked, so maybe we should see if they make it? I would suggest Katie and Caitlin but they’re not in town. Most of the girls are with their international squads. We can ask Alex but Jill is in Manchester. There’s a few other’s in town.. LJ and Keira, maybe?”

“Oh, that’s an idea!”

Jordan gave them both a call. LJ wasn’t available, however Keira and Georgia were. They met them at the Italian restaurant Lucy had booked and made a night of it. The girls joked about how they’d be in trouble if they were caught eating carbs when they were in season, though YFN had convinced them that they’d deserved it after their hard fought victory over the Netherlands. The more she got to know Keira, the more she got along with her. She opened up slowly, though at the end of the day, they both thought similarly, and had a similar sense of humour.

It was also one of the first times she’d been close and in intimate conversation with Georgia since she’d caught the first kiss between her and Lucy. They spoke about the game, Scotland, how much they needed to win by, Lumos and the interviews. The three footballers had a good catch up now that they all played for different teams, and they saw less of Jordan.

The two opted to skip dessert as they’d apparently already been too bad, though once they saw Jordan and YFN’s desserts, they couldn’t help but try a taste.

When their dinner was ending, she checked her phone and her stomach sank.

“Still nothing?” Jordan asked, seeing her reaction.

She gave a sigh. “No. You?”

She shook her head.

“Doesn’t usually take this long, surely?” Georgia asked. “What, are they hand delivering her to jail?”

“There must be a good reason…” Keira comforted. “Either way, we have time to do the interview if you want?”

They were being efficient, with Keira offering at dinner to come over and do the couch interview that YFN had suggested was best to ease the ‘Wonze’ fanatics of the internet. She still didn’t know Keira well, though she could see that she’d offered partly because not only did she want to get it over and done with, as she hated interviews, but she knew YFN needed a distraction from the current legal situation that Lucy and Leah were tied up in. She called Bridget and Emily to see if they were available last minute for the interview. They were more than eager, as she knew they would be, though still offered them extra pay for the inconvenience.

After dinner, they made their way to Lucy’s and settled in, Bridget and Emily setting up for the interview while she ran through queries with Keira prior to it.

“Did you read the questions and prompts I sent..?”

She hadn’t expected her to, as the interview wasn’t supposed to take place until later in the month, however things seemed to be working this way for her for some reason.

Keira nodded, asking questions and YFN couldn’t help but be impressed at her eye for detail.

She’d said that Jordan and Georgia didn’t have to stay, but they’d insisted, wanting to catch up on lost time.

The interview went for just over an hour, though it was exactly what she’d wanted. Keira had not been tense at all, and she was proud of herself for creating such an environment. To be fair, she even felt like she’d flirted with her a little, which had surprised the Australian. She’d never seen an interview with Keira so comfortable before. Hopefully that would suppress the ‘Wonze’ fanatics who’d been sending her so much hate on social media.

Keira took photos for their interview, while she answered Georgia’s questions about the content process. She had very little content outside of the Lionesses as she played at Bayern Munich and they weren’t exactly known for their social media. They didn’t have time for another interview that night as the girls had training the next day before flying out to Scotland, and needed to get rest.

They all left, though Jordan stayed with her. She looked at her watch as they walked out of the door. 8pm. She hadn’t heard from Lucy since 7am.

She sighed, dropping her hand in defeat. Jordan gave her a cuddle. “They’ll be home soon..”

She cuddled into her friend, allowing herself to relax when her phone buzzed. She jumped immediately and grimaced at the pain that shot through her body as she grabbed for her phone.

Joe calling…

At this time of night?

“Hey, Joe,” she answered, feeling awkward calling her that.

“Hello, YFN. How are you?” Her voice sounded as soft and regally calm as ever. It was comforting to her.

“I’m doing well. It’s late – is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. I was calling to check in on the hearing today. Did it go well?”

She wondered if she’d used any of her influence to help the situation. Her voice suggested that perhaps she had, though just a little.

“Luce and Leah aren’t home yet. They’ve been gone for over 13 hours.”

“I see. It’s not unusual, though. I’d like an update when they’re done, please. I need to make sure this is all wrapped up so that you’re safe.”

Seeing as you don’t want the security team I offered, she could practically hear her saying. Catherine was worried about her, which made her feel loved. She’d never had that from a mother figure beyond her grandma. Her heart softened.

“Thank you…” she said, gratefully. “I’ll let you know when I know. Also, I had a check up today. Everything is healing well, and I can now walk, albeit gently.”

“I read the report you sent through,” YFN could hear the smile in her voice. “I was very happy to read that. Hopefully you can be moving a bit more freely by the new year.”

“Fingers crossed!”

She gave a light laugh. “Mine certainly are. Now, I was thinking about the Gala event this week that Lucy and Alessia are doing this week. We’re a bit on the back foot with everything since there’s so much going on, however I was hoping that the timing will work out to have our own Lumos event this week, on Friday or Saturday perhaps. Do you think we could get any high profile players in that time?”

“How many were you thinking?”

“Ten maximum. I don’t want the focus to be lost if there are too many.”

“Well, Lucy will be with me for a little before headed back to Barca. Most girls will be back with their teams by then. I think I can get Jordan Nobbs, Leah Williamson, potentially any players from the WSL, and also perhaps… perhaps…”

“Perhaps?”

She pondered. “Perhaps… Alexia. That’s a big maybe, though.”

“Alexia would be the white whale, if we could get her on. Otherwise, it sounds great. Perhaps some other nationalities too, if you can?”

“Coaches too?” She asked, trying to think who would be available at a moment’s notice. “I could ask Sarina. Emma. I could get Caitlin for Australia, Katie for Ireland, Yui for Japan, Ashley for Canada, or similar if they're not available?”

“Brilliant. I do hate to drop this on you last minute, though I have been wanting to get it done before the rush prior to Christmas. If you could look through availability and give me a date and names, I’ll work on booking a location for Friday or Saturday so we can start promoting it.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you, YFN. About tomorrow night, I have a location to meet. I’m assuming Lucy will be coming also?”

“I think Leah and Jordan have a right to be there too.”

She could practically hear her nodding. “I’ve sent the location and time to Mark. I have an aircraft departing at night for you. I’ll put you all on the manifest. You may need to clear it with the Lioness management.”

“Leah will handle that…”

“Perfect. I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Cath-” She cut herself off. “Are you sure about this?”

“There’s only so much hiding I can do. This is an unnecessary evil, unfortunately. You’ve been through too much already. I won’t have you fighting him too. I’m hoping to finish this once and for all with him tomorrow night, though from then on, my intention is still to be the silent partner while you are the face of Lumos. Has anything changed for you in regards to that?”

The empathy in her voice had YFN feeling comfortable. Comfortable enough that she could have said no, and Catherine would have accepted it without question.

“Nothing has changed on my end. I’m just very eager to get us onto a schedule where I’m not chasing my tail with interviews and events.” She chuckled. Catherine shared in her chuckle.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been hoping the exact same. It’s good to hear we’re on the same page, though. We’ll speak more tomorrow night. Until then – keep me posted on the hearing and anything you need at all, let me know.”

YFN and Jordan fell asleep on the couch, their feet overlapping under the blanket they shared as their heads were at opposite ends. She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, however she was woken by a warm kiss to the cheek and Lucy’s deep, comforting voice. “I’m here, little one. Everything’s okay.”

“Luce?” She mumbled, half asleep. She opened one eye, followed drearily by the other as she looked at her favourite person. Her expression was peaceful, which calmed the Australian.

She looked down at Jordan who was sitting up with Leah next to her, the two talking quietly. She looked back at Lucy.

“What happened?”

“It’s done, little one.”

She tried to prop herself up, and Lucy helped her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to pull her up into a sitting position. “It took that long?”

“The incident happened in Spain, so we were delayed due to that, however someone pulled some strings for us.” Catherine. Lucy gave her a knowing look. “Without her, this would have been dragged out for weeks.”

“It’s done?”

She nodded as she reached out to stroke the yellowing bruises on her jaw. “Jail time for a period. Community service for the rest, as you didn’t want her to be stuck in there for the maximum time. Restraining orders for life. She won’t be attending any games in the future. And she apologised. It’s done.”

“She…apologised?”

“Mainly to me, but yes. She cried a lot.”

“That must have been hard…”

“Yes and no. I don’t like seeing someone upset, but she did hurt the person I love so… my empathy was not there for her. I’m just happy it’s all over.” She leant forward and gave her a soft kiss on the temple. “What did you two get up to, love?”

“We had dinner with Keira and Georgia,” Jordan said from across the couch.

Leah gave YFN a smile. She looked tired.

Lucy was caught off guard. “Oh?”

“It was great,” she reassured, putting her hand under the collar of her shirt, and on that strong collarbone of hers. “I did my couch interview with Keira after it.”

Lucy looked impressed, though like she had questions for when they were alone. She didn’t blame her.

“And?” Jordan prompted.

“Oh! And Lumos wants to host a public event with 10 female footballers in London this Friday or Saturday. Are you all free?”

“You know I am,” Lucy murmured, leaning her head against hers.

“I’ll be in town.” Leah answered.

“You already know I’m in.” Jordan agreed, looking at Leah. YFN hadn’t realised until just then that it must have been a while since they’d done something like that together in public.

“And I messaged Riddles, hoping to get Alexia if she’s back in town…”

“Mmn. I’m sure it’ll all be perfect. You’re good at the last minute organising,” Lucy teased.

She rolled her eyes. “And whose fault is that?”

She gave an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I do wonder how the doctor went today? I have an email titled: ‘No funny business.’”

Jordan cackled. Actually cackled. YFN blushed, a little embarrassed and frustrated that she had to tell her. Lucy didn’t understand. Bless her, she was incredibly smart, though a lot less quick for these types of situations.

“Everything is healing well apart from my…ah…ribs. They’ve not been having the rest they should.”

“I believe he said they’ve been ‘thrown around a bit’…” Jordan offered.

Lucy clicked and gave a guilty look. Before she could speak, YFN jumped in, trying to distract her with ten different things to keep her mind away from limiting sex with her.

“But everything else is healing well… hoping to be out of the sling by the new year and the knee brace by Christmas. Also, I can officially walk.” She gave a proud smile. “No more looking for the wheelchair in Scotland, Luce. I’ll be the one-armed flamingo with the Australian flag.”

[nekohime19]

Neko Shadowpeach Au Guide!

I have so many Shadowpeach Au I can't even 😭

This post is mainly for me to organize myself bc I'm beginning to have a lot of ideas for Au, and a lot of Au in general and I need to write that somewhere or I'm gonna get lost.

But also it's to let you guys know about future Au I would probably write and see if you like them.

Of course if you guys have any questions about any of my Au's, even the unpublished one, feel free to ask.

alright here we go :

Published

Monkeys silly love life :

Summary : Macaque never met the great sage, nor the brotherhood, he simply lived like a hermit until his lantern was stolen by a thrall. He finds himself coming to Megapolis in search of his lantern, there he meets MK, his friends and one particularly insistent golden-furred monkey who seems keen on flirting with him despite the Lady Bone Demon taking over the world.

Fic : series of three fic on Ao3

Who said you can't flirt in an apocalypse?

Monkeys discovering the wide world of dating.

I know the world is ending but will you marry me?

Status : all fics completed

Vibe : fluff and humor

Heart behind the lie :

Summary : Sun Wukong's mind is severely damaged by the Lady Bone Demon's possession, leading him to act like a beast. Macaque being the only person he trusts in this state, he is designated as his babysitter. Macaque refuses at first but then finds himself needing magic to survive and decides to accept being a babysitter to better steal Sun Wukong's magic. He might became more attached than he planned for.

Fic : fic on Ao3 + being published on Tumblr with two chapters a day

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : emotional angst, feels and fluff

Publishing day : At least once a week

Mini Mac :

Summary : One day Sun Wukong discovers that a little black-furred monkey had been living in the walls of his stone mansion and decides to befriend him. Problem is, the little black-furred beauty is not keen on deepening his relationship with him, thus the sage has to gain his trust first.

Fic : one fic on Tumblr and Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and very light angst

Publishing day : Two to three chapters a week

Bimawen :

Summary : What if Heaven actually gave weight to the title of Bimawen and treated Sun Wukong with respect, even if reluctant? Sun Wukong would have never gone on a rampage and quietly taken care of the horses. Years after Sun Wukong has taken his horsley duties Heaven found another celestial monkey, the Six-eared Macaque causing mayhem in the mortal world. The macaque is judged and if he wants to avoid his execution, he has to become the bimawen's assistant. The problem is the monkeys don't really like each other.

Fic : one on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and feels / JTTW oriented

Publishing day : Once to twice a month (often more bc I'm inspired)

Share my glow (co-writing with Pen-Women)

Summary : Macaque never met Wukong in his life. He is known as the Shadow Weaver, a mysterious entity who guides the one lost in the night. His lantern is the last artifact LBD needs to complete her mech and take over the world. When his forest is frozen by the Thrall he has no choice but to follow a troublesome team of heroes with a particularly flirty Monkey King.

Fic : one in Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff and angst / ABO

Publishing day : Once a week (every Sunday)

Unpublished

So here is are my ideas for different Au's! Of course, bc those are still ideas in working, summaries might change a lil bit when I actually write them. Idk if I'll write them all though. They're classed from the one I want to write the most after I'm finished with Heart behind the lie and Mini Mac to ideas in passing.

1) Love Addicts :

Summary : Macaque and Sun Wukong find themselves feeling miserable after season 5. MK lost his powers when he jumped in the pillar, and both monkeys can't help but feel guilty. Sun Wukong then stumbles upon an odd door in his treasure trove and discovers the existence of a bar selling love potions. Despite hating each other, both monkeys decides to drink one potion to recover some sort of happiness, letting themselves be in love for one week. They take another one after the end of this first week and soon become addicted to the taste of love, even if this love is fake.

Fic : will be on Ao3 (debating if I'm gonna add it to Tumblr)

Status : unwritten / I'm planning this one after Heart behind the lie

Vibe : angst, fluff and feel, smut

Die-Hard fan :

Summary : Sun Wukong took the throne of the Jade Emperor after the attack on Heavens orchestrated by the brotherhood. While at first were glad to be free of Heaven's corruption they soon began to fear the whims of their new ruler. Sun Wukong is a beast of pleasure who does nothing but indulges his needs, either in food or treasures, and kills those who doesn't agree with him. One day, he stumbles upon the most famous entertainer of the mortal world, the Six-eared Macaque, and became a die-hard fan. Now determined to be someone Macaque would like, Sun Wukong has to change all his ways and learns to be a good King.

Fic : will be on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : unwritten / Planning this after Mini Mac

Vibe : fluff and humor

Monkey Cop Mania :

Summary : Both monkeys find themselves being transported to a movie-like dimension in which Sun Wukong is the insanely famous Monkey Cop and Macaque a world-wide known thief accused of murder. If they want to get back to their own dimension, they have to solve a murder and finish the movie's scenario. Problem is neither mystic monkeys turn out to be great detectives.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten

Vibe : Humor and feels

Once upon a monkey

Summary : various long one shots of shadowpeach being in different fairy tales.

How to bewitch the witch : Wukong is the prince of the Sun Kingdom and falls in love with the cruel sea witch, Macaque, while said witch was destroying his wedding with the mermaid prince, Azure. Once Azure returns to his kingdom and their wedding falls void, Wukong does everything in his power to court Macaque. Turns out, courting a sea witch is quite difficult.

The strongest of them all : Macaque is a magic mirror with the ability to hear past, present and future terribly in love with his owner, the King Sun Wukong. One day Sun Wukong learns that he's not the strongest anymore, but that he's step-son, MK, is. Macaque, after listening to the future, fears for his King and tries to better the relationship between MK and Wukong.

Fighting Beauty : Macaque is prince Sun Wukong personal guard, in charge of guarding him until his betrothed comes to rescue him from the sleeping spell casted upon him. Things get awkward when Macaque awakens Sun Wukong on his first night on duty. Sun Wukong, impatient as ever, decides to slay the dragon himself and not wait on his betrothed, Macaque is dragged in the quest despite himself.

Midnight Illusion : Macaque is at day the mistreated step-son of the Lady Bone Demon, and at night the leader of the most fearsome thieves of the Sun Kingdom. He's unfortunately caught by the royal guard in the middle of a thievery. He's given two choices by the Sun King himself : either spend the rest of his life in prison, or spy on his own step-mother while also pretending to be the Sun King betrothed. Naturally, he chose the second option.

The Mage and the Monkey : Sun Wukong is cursed by the wandering mage, Macaque, after refusing to give him shelter on a stormy night. He's now the Monkey King, and he'll stay in this beastly form as long as he cannot find true love, according to the Mage, at least. But Sun Wukong is not one to stay idle, he finds the Mage huts after a lot of searching, and bugs him everyday to undo the curse. Macaque is tempted to accept, only because Sun Wukong is getting annoying.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / rough ideas really

Vibe : Humor and fluff and angst

Narcissist :

Summary : Sun Wukong was lonely. He felt like there was a wedge between him and the world, that no-one could ever understand him. Even his successor couldn't hope to breach his shell. Pushed by his loneliness, Wukong stole a forbidden book from the gods with the vilest spells written in it and bring his shadow to life.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / very rough idea

Vibe : angst, fluff and horror (Mac being an eldritch horror)

I'll add Au's to this guide if I have any more that I think of, but that's all for now.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Floo

Words: 996 😮‍💨

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It was like James had a sixth sense of when Sirius brought a man home, because the last eight times, he’d tumbled through the floo, needing help with something, or wanting to hang out or to check in on Remus. Each time Sirius had been utterly cockblocked by it.

The ninth time it happened, he’d had enough.

“How do you do it?” He snapped when Davey suddenly remembered that he had an early start in the morning. “How do you do this every time?”

James, to his credit, played dumb, “Do what? I’m just here to return Moony’s book.”

“Where is it?” Sirius said, looking at James’ empty hands.

“Where’s what?”

“The book.” Sirius growled, “The book that you’re returning to Moony, Prongs.”

“Oh, would you look at that? I left it at home.” James chuckled, “Oh well, no harm no foul.”

Sirius strode past him into the hallway and James heard his bedroom door slam. Remus poked his head into the living room a few seconds later.

“I think he’s onto you.” He said wearily.

“No idea what you mean, Moony.” James sat down on the sofa.

“What is it?” Something in the wards?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” James smiled as Remus dropped into the armchair.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Remus frowned, “I’d ask if you fancy him, but you’re getting married in three months so I almost don’t want to.”

“No, I do not fancy Padfoot. Jesus.” James groaned, “But you do.”

Remus’ face dropped, “Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Moony.”

“Prongs.”

“Remus.”

“James.”

“Look, I know sometimes I can be… unobservant, let’s say. But not this time.” James pointed at him. “I saw the two of you at our engagement party.”

Remus’ face suddenly went from very pale to very red. “Ah.”

“Yes, ah. It looked like the two of you were finally getting your shit together.” James looked at him over the top of his glasses. “So what happened?”

“Well, we came home, we… spent some time in Sirius’ bed. I woke up alone in Sirius’ bed and we’ve just… never spoken about it.” Remus shrugged, but James recognised that sad look in his eyes.

“Would it kill the two of you to have a conversation?” James sighed.

“Possibly.” Remus said, “It’s definitely been too long to bring it up now, though. And he clearly has no intention of doing so. If anything he’s bringing more men home than he was before.”

“But they’re not staying long are they?” James feigned confusion. “Fascinating.”

“This won’t end well.” Remus couldn’t help but smile. “I'm going to deny all knowledge. Wait, would me bringing people home trigger the same thing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” James smirked.

“And that’s why I go to their place whenever the opportunity arises, instead of bringing them here,” Remus said.

“Well, that, and you’re not an asshole.” James’ smirk dropped. “I don’t get what he’s doing.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been over and over it in my head.” Remus said quietly, “If he regretted it, he could just tell me. It would suck for a bit, but I’m not a dickhead.”

“Maybe you just need to get drunk together again.”

“That’s a stupid idea.” Remus curled in on himself, tucking his feet under him. “Maybe I should think about moving out.”

“No!” Sirius stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and covering his mouth. James and Remus stared at him. “I don’t want you to move out.” He said quietly after an awkward silence.

“But you understand why he’d want to?” James frowned at him. Sirius nodded. “So, why?”

“I met Emmeline.” Sirius mumbled, “The morning after the party.” Remus’ mouth dropped open.

“Oh, fuck.” His head was in his hands, “Oh shit, oh fuck.”

“Yeah. She turned up for your coffee date wearing less than I enjoyed seeing on a Sunday morning.” Sirius came and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I may have been a bit snippy with her, honestly.”

“Wait, who’s Emmeline?” James asked, looking between them.

“She’s the woman that Remus brought home three days before your engagement party,” Sirius said, not looking at Remus, who was trying not to smirk.

“On a Wednesday, Moony?” James was bewildered.

“Sometimes trivia night is a good way to meet people,” Remus muttered. “I completely forgot that we had plans. Well, that explains why she blocked me.”

“That, and Sirius playing jealous boyfriend,” James added.

“I was not— I didn’t— Shut up, Prongs.” Sirius looked at Remus, “I figured it out afterwards that it was arranged before we… you know. And then I just felt gross for how I reacted.”

“You could have said something, you know.” Remus sighed, “You didn’t have to pretend it never happened and return to your carousel of men.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “It was shitty, and the shittier I felt about it, the more I spiralled, and then I thought you’d arranged this thing with Prongs to cockblock me, and then I was petty about it. And then I felt guilty about how petty I’d been, and then I spiralled some more, and yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Moony had nothing to do with it,” James confirmed.

“Yeah, I know that now.” Sirius pointed to the door. “Moody would have something to say about your awareness of your surroundings.”

“Moody can kiss my arse.” Remus shook his head, “We probably should talk about it then?” Sirius nodded.

“Well, that’s my cue.” James stood up. “You’re welcome. I’ll be around to fix your wards tomorrow. Please be clothed.”

“You’re lucky we love you, you know,” Sirius said as James waved before stepping into the fire.

“So at what point do we tell him that we’ve been together for six months?” Remus said as Sirius came to squeeze into the armchair. “He really thought he was onto something.”

“He means well.” Sirius kissed Remus’ forehead. “Love you, Moons.”

“Love you too.” He said, “Tell Davey we owe him a pint.”

Notes:

ha.

Also my headcanon (is it a headcanon if it's your own fic?) is that the first time it happened it was completely innocent, Sirius was just bringing a friend round for a drink or something, but then James showed up and was so pleased with himself that they concocted this plan

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Insolence and control

pairing. Sunday x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, argument, some slow burn, TW(abuse), first time slap, criticism, synopsis. his control-freak behavior started to get on your nerves. full menu note. something short to keep up with the language heh.

As the Family's spokesperson with a hectic schedule, Sunday is arguably the busiest person in Penacony. His workday often extends beyond 15 hours, occasionally reaching over 19 hours. In short, he rarely makes it home, even when he desires to.

On an unusual Tuesday, he manages to arrive home before midnight—a rare occurrence. You casually sit on the living room couch, watching TV until you hear the front door open. It's Sunday. You promptly rise from the couch and assist him with the briefcases in his hands.

"It's okay, Y/N. I can manage them," he declined, visibly exhausted as expected.

You persist, attempting to take the briefcases from his hands, but his demeanor suddenly changes.

"I said it's fine! Can you just fucking leave me alone?!" he shouts, his voice strained. His sudden temper leaves you questioning what has come over him.

You freeze upon his unexpected outburst. His usual composed self was now replaced with a completely different aura.

Sunday drops the briefcases on the floor and takes a step back, averting his gaze. His breathing is heavy, as if he's holding back. The outburst was seemingly triggered by seemingly minor interaction.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted," he says, trying to regain his composure. He's still avoiding eye contact with you, but then his expression suddenly shifts to one of surprise.

His eyes widen slightly upon realizing something.

"Are you…wearing one of my shirts? A hint of irritation laces his tone as he finally looks at you, examining your appearance. You're wearing one of his work shirts that you had borrowed.

You nod, a bit confused by his reaction.

"I missed you—"

You thought he wouldn't mind you borrowing his shirt.

Although hey, he'd never found out you were using them, until now.

He grits his teeth, the irritation in his voice evident, but his eyes remain fixated on the shirt.

"Take it off." he says, his tone firm.

Your heart skips a beat at his command. The shirt suddenly felt too tight.

You look at him, searching for a hint of humor, but you're met only with his intense gaze.

"But why?" you asked, managing to push the words out of you, despite the growing knot in your stomach.

With a great notorious irritation on his face, he spoke again.

"Because you're going to dirty and wrinkle it."

You look down at yourself, noting that the shirt is barely wrinkled and clean, contrary to his statement.

However, the tension in the air was palpable.

You tried to protest, not understanding why he was making such a big deal about something so trivial. "But this won't - "

Before you could finish, he silenced you, his voice filled with irritation and authority.

"Don't argue with me. I said take it off. Now."

But oh right, he wanted to always have everything controlled and in place.

You hesitate, torn between obeying him immediately and questioning his unreasonable demand. But his stern stare leaves no room for argument.

Slowly, you lift the hem of the shirt, preparing to take it off.

However, the moment the shirt slides halfway up, revealing the midriff, he abruptly grabs your wrist.

His touch is firm, his grip preventing you from going further.

"Change in the bedroom, not here," he said.

He released your wrist but recorded your other hand before leading you towards the bedroom, his demeanor still emanating tension and irritation. You followed behind, still trying to wrap your mind around the situation.

Once inside the bedroom, he went to the closet to put on slightly more comfortable clothes.

You stood by the bed still puzzled, wondering why he was so upright about this. It was just a shirt.

But anyway, you approached your side of the wardrobe, to take out your own clothes and put it on.

Once you finish changing, you turn around to find him sitting on the bed, still visibly agitated.

Once you finished changing clothes, you left his shirt on dirty clothes.

You sighed and turned your body towards the bed, he was sitting there.

As you approach, he pats the bed, motioning for you to sit next to him. You comply, taking a seat next to him. The air in the room was thick with tension, each moment of silence felt uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath before turning his gaze toward you. His eyes were filled with frustration.

He spoke, his voice softer but still tinged with irritation. "Do you know how long I've been working this week?"

You replied, a hint of guilt in your voice. "I know. It's been incredibly busy for you lately."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I've been working non-stop, sometimes not even coming home till midnight. I'm exhausted, mentally and physically."

You moved your gaze to his face. Dark rings under his eyes were visible, evidence of his tiredness.

He continued, venting his frustration. "And what do I find when I finally get home? You, wearing my shirt as if it's nothing."

His voice rose, the irritation in his tone evident again. "That's not just some random shirt; it's mine. It's supposed to be clean, pristine, hanging neatly in my closet. Not being casually worn and wrinkled on you."

"I'm sorry," you replied, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. "I just missed you, and I thought you wouldn't mind."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. "You've been living here, in my house, with me, for how long? You should know not to 'borrow' my belongings."

The tension in the room was escalating quickly, and you found yourself feeling defensive.

"It's just a shirt, Sunday," you said, trying to stay calm. "I thought you wouldn't mind."

He shot you a stern glance, irritation evident in his gaze. "It's the principle, not the shirt itself. I have specific ways I want things organized and kept in order."

His control-freak behavior started to get on your nerves.

"I wanted to feel closer to you, that's why I wore it. Is that such a crime?" You said.

His jaw tightened at your response as he shot back angrily, "You could've done that in a different way; not by disrespecting my belongings,"

His control started to leak out of him completely. The outburst was not only about the shirt, but the frustration built up during the week, from his stressful work to the lack of time you both had for each other.

He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "I expect more from you, especially as my partner. You should understand and respect my boundaries,"

"Boundaries?" you replied, the frustration in your voice evident. "Is it really about boundaries, or is it about control?"

You were starting to lose your patience.

"I do respect your boundaries," you added, your voice starting to rise. "But there's a line between having expectations and being ridiculously controlling. And right now, it feels like you're being the latter."

Sunday's eyes narrowed, clearly not appreciating being challenged. He retorted, "I'm not being controlling; I just have high standards, and I expect them to be met. You know exactly who you're living with."

His voice grew more frustrated. "And instead of understanding and appreciating that, you're questioning me, and accusing me of overstepping boundaries. I demand a certain level of order and respect. Is that really too much to ask for?”

"Are you serious right now?" You snapped back, your frustration reaching its peak, "Of course it's too much to ask for! You're acting as if this is all my fault. You're being completely unreasonable,"

"I can't just sit here and take this—this verbal abuse because I wore your stupid shirt," you exclaimed.

The room was thick with tension.

"Verbal abuse?" Sunday's voice rose, clearly offended. "I'm not abusing you; I'm expressing my expectations and frustrations. There's a difference."

He pointed his finger at you, frustration etched on his face. "And yes, it is your fault. If you had respected my boundaries, we wouldn't be having this argument. It's not about the damn shirt, it's about your disregard for my wishes."

You let out a slight laugh in mockery, as you rolled your eyes.

"You know what? Fine, you win, I'm not going to touch your stuff," you said, as you got up from the edge of the bed.

Sunday's eyes followed you, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Where are you going?"

You replied, "to the living room, i need some space to cool off."

He let out a scoff, clearly not satisfied with your response. "You want space? Fine, take all the space you need. But come back here when you're ready to apologize and accept you're in the wrong."

Your eyes narrowed at his insistence that you were in the wrong. You retorted, "I'm not going to apologize for something that doesn't make sense,"

He clenched his jaw, his tone stern. "You know what, maybe you shouldn't come back until you see reason."

His words stung more than you expected. The implication that you weren't being reasonable made your heart flutter, mixed with the hurt of his cold statement.

You crossed your arms, your voice filled with determination. "Fine, I won't. Consider this a break from your 'expectations and rules.'"

His eyes flared with anger as he responded, "A break from my expectations and rules? You make it sound like I'm controlling, but those boundaries exist for a reason."

He got up from the bed, his voice raised, "And if you can't respect them or me, then maybe we need more than just a break."

The tension between you both palpable, your relationship suddenly hanging on a precipice.

You let out a hollow laugh, the hurt and frustration bubbling up within you. "Maybe that's what we need – a break from each other."

You moved back towards the bedroom door, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'll go stay somewhere else."

His expression hardened, a mix of surprise and stubbornness evident on his face. "You can leave. Go ahead."

You opened the door, your hand gripping the handle tightly. The urge to turn back, to argue further or something, was strong.

"Fine, I will," you said, your voice quiet, almost resigned.

You took one last glance at him, noted his tense stature, and then walked out the door, shutting it behind you with a sharp click.

The sound of the door shutting echoed through the apartment, leaving Sunday alone in the quiet room. He stood there for a moment, his mind racing with frustration and anger.

He ran his hand through his hair, the silence in the apartment felt deafening. He looked down at the floor, the argument still fresh in his mind.

You didn't end up leaving the house, first of all, or know where to stay.

So you stayed in the house, huddled on the couch.

As the hours passed by, the silence in the apartment felt deafening. Sunday still hadn't come out of the bedroom.

You sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

You lay on the couch, choosing to sleep.

You didn't know how much time passed, but you felt someone pushing you a little bit, to make room for the couch.

As you stirred from your sleep, you felt someone gently pushing you on the couch, attempting to make room. You opened your eyes slightly, groggy from the disrupted sleep.

You noticed Sunday hovering above you, a tired expression on his face.

"Move over," he said, his voice softer than before, but still holding a hint of tension.

You shifted slightly, creating space for him on the couch. He slumped onto the spot you just vacated, his presence immediately filling the room with his energy.

He leaned his head back against the couch cushion, sighing heavily.

The two of you stay there in silence for a moment, the weight of your unresolved argument still lingering between you. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the dim bedside lamp, casting shadows on the walls.

Sunday broke the silence first, his voice a low rumble. "You didn't leave."

You looked at him, your gaze meeting his weary eyes. The tension from your earlier fight still hung in the air, but his comment felt almost like an olive branch, a hint that maybe he didn't want you to leave either.

You replied softly, "I didn't know where to go."

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Then, after a few more seconds, he spoke, his voice holding a hint of resignation.

"You could have gone to a friend's place. Or a hotel. Anything but here."

You responded, your voice quieter this time, "I didn't want to go anywhere else."

He shifted his head to look at you, your eyes meeting his. His expression softened for a moment, before the tension returned.

He continued, his voice slightly strained, "You'd rather stay here, even after what happened?"

You nodded, your eyes not breaking contact with his. "Yes. Despite our argument, I didn't want to leave."

He inhaled deeply, his eyes still fixed on you.

After another moment of silence, this time you spoke first.

"Couldn't sleep?" You asked, seeing his tired look.

He let out a weary sigh, stretching his tired figure a bit.

"No," he admitted, "I've been tossing and turning in bed for hours."

His eyes searched your face, studying your expression.

"Why is that?" You asked, curiosity piqued.

He shifted his position once again, clearly not wanting to give a direct response.

"The bed felt too empty," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let go of a little 'mhm' while also moving yourself a little on the couch, looking for comfort.

"Then let's sleep," you said, closing your eyes.

There was another moment of silence, this one felt heavier.

Sunday didn't say anything at first, but then you suddenly felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

You allowed yourself to intertwine your legs with his, feeling more comfortable so you could sleep on the narrow couch.

You both settled into a rather tight, but somewhat comfortable position on the couch, with your head resting on his chest.

The sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body were strangely soothing, despite the lingering tension between you.

His arm remained around you, his hand gently tracing light circles on your back.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again.

The sky outside had started to darken, dusk painting the horizon in hues of purple and deep blue. It was getting late, signaling the end of another workday.

Sunday was still at work, finishing up a few tasks before returning home.

You were sitting on the couch once again, scrolling through your phone when you heard the sound of keys in the front door.

The door opened, and in walked Sunday. He looked weary and tired, exhaustion evident in his gaze.

This time you didn't get up to try to help him, because the last time you did he was too irritated to be kind.

"Hey, sweetheart," you greeted, as you turned your gaze towards your phone again.

He closed the door behind him, locking it as he always did.

He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to the door, his movements weary.

He turned to face you, his expression revealing his fatigue.

He couldn't help but make a grimace when he saw you sitting there.

"Did you wash the dishes?" He dared to ask, as if he knew the answer.

You immediately felt the irritation rise in you. Despite your attempt at not letting it affect you, his first words felt like another challenge.

You replied, trying to keep your tone even, "Yes, I did."

He walked over to you, stopping in front of the couch.

He didn't seem convinced, as he raised an eyebrow and asked again, "Are you sure?"

His tone was laced with skepticism.

The doubt in his voice made your annoyance flare up even more, the feeling of being constantly questioned and disbelieved by him was wearing thin.

You shot him a look, before answering again firmly, "Yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't lie about something as simple as washing dishes."

He shifted, leaning his arm against the back of the couch, towering over you.

He responded with a dry tone, "And how am I supposed to know? You've been known to forget before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his skeptical gaze with your own. "I'm not a child, Sunday. I'm perfectly capable of doing basic chores, without being questioned and doubted constantly."

He didn't respond and headed to the kitchen, where he saw for himself that the dishes were clean.

But not in the right way.

Or at least that's what he thought.

"Y/N, did you dry the dishes with the cloth for the dishes or to dry your hands?" He raised his voice, from the kitchen, so that you could hear his words.

You felt your frustration rising again. Why was he always so nitpicky about every little thing?

You stood up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen. "What difference does it make?" You replied, trying to keep your voice even. "They're both clean, aren't they?"

He looked at you, his expression stern. "It does make a difference. One cloth is supposed to be used for the hands, not as a drying cloth for dishes."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The way he was picking on such a trivial issue was mind-boggling.

You retorted, "Sunday, this is ridiculous. It's just a cloth, and it serves the same purpose, right? The dishes are clean."

He shook his head, his expression remaining stern.

"No, it's not just a cloth. The dish cloth is for the dishes, and the towel is for your hands. It's about order and organization," he responded matter-of-factly.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath.

"Well, I'm going to wash them again and dry them with the right cloth," you said, in a tense voice.

As you approached to start putting the variety of dried dishes inside the sink.

He stopped you with a gesture, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Wait."

His tone was firm, preventing you from moving forward.

"Let me do it. You'll probably just use the wrong cloth again." he declared, his gaze fixed on you.

You let go of an unconscious mockery after his words reached your ears.

"How nice," you said, as you left the kitchen.

You left the kitchen feeling frustrated and annoyed. The fact that he thought you couldn't handle such a simple task as washing dishes felt like a blow to your pride.

You sat back down on the couch again, still see something but trying to control yourself. You picked up your phone, pretending to be distracted, all while feeling his presence in the next room, taking care of 'your mistake'.

And yes, you thought he was just irritated and it would only be the only times he would make those kinds of comments.

Oh, aeons. How wrong you were.

Time after time again, every time he came back late at night, he insisted on criticizing the things you did, from how to fold your clothes, to how you eat.

At this point you were starting to feel frustrated, and of course, you couldn't help but defend yourself, sometimes speaking badly or raising your tone of voice.

It wasn't the best way to speak for you, but it was infuriating for you to criticize everything.

And obviously, he didn't like your attempts at defense and tone of voice.

At this point, you were sitting on the couch, somewhat relaxed not to have Sunday in the living room.

You were now glad that he spent so much time away from home.

The door opened once again, revealing the tired figure of Sunday once more. As he stepped into the room, his gaze instantly focused on you, sitting on the couch. The moment he saw you, a disapproving frown settled on his face.

He closed the door behind him and approached the living room, his footsteps reverberating in the quiet apartment.

"Y/N," he began, his voice stern. "You're sinking into the couch again. It's going to wear it out."

You couldn't believe it.

He was now criticizing how you were sitting on the couch. It was as if everything you did was wrong in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure.

"I'm just sitting comfortably," you replied tersely.

But Sunday wasn't satisfied.

"You're sinking in the couch," he repeated, his tone disapproving. "You know it's not good for the couch, or your back, to sit that way. You need to sit up straight."

His constant criticism and corrections had been wearing on your nerves, and this latest comment was the final straw.

"Oh, for Aeons sake, Sunday," you snapped, your frustration boiled over. "Can you just relax for a moment? I'm tired, I'm just trying to relax."

He didn't take your response kindly. His expression hardened.

"And I'm tired of coming home every day to find you slouching on the couch," he replied firmly. "It's not respectable, or good for you."

Your eyes widened at his words and this time, you lost it.

You stood up, your voice raised and filled with frustration. "Respectable? Are you serious? You're more worried about how respectable I look on the couch than how I feel?"

He was taken aback by your outburst, but stood his ground. "It's about maintaining a certain standard… "

You interrupted him, your voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh, spare me, Sunday. We're not living in some uptight Victorian house."

Sunday's expression tensed, his eyes narrowing. "Watch your tone, Y/N. I'm just trying to help you be more presentable… "

You laughed bitterly. "Presentable? Is that all you care about? My appearance and how it reflects on you?"

Sunday tried to maintain his stern expression, but the tone of your voice was starting to chip at his composure.

You continued, your irritation rising, "You're always criticizing me, finding faults in everything I do. I can't relax without you nagging at me to be 'more respectable' or to do things your way. It's like I'm walking on eggshells every moment you're here."

Sunday clenched his jaw, clearly growing irritated. "You're exaggerating. I just want you to have some basic decency and standards,"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Decency and standards?! Is that what you call it? I call it suffocating and controlling. I can't even relax in my own home without you breathing down my neck, telling me how to sit, how to fold my clothes, how to talk‐"

Sunday interrupted you, his own irritation seeping into his voice. "Because you're not doing it right! Someone has to keep things in order around here. You think the house will magically stay organized and tidy without any effort?"

You retorted, "I'm not saying we need to live like pigs, but there's being tidy and then there's being overly obsessive about every little detail."

"You're making me feel like I can never do anything right, and it's driving me insane."

"It's about showing some self-discipline and self-respect. You're always so slovenly and careless…" He said.

You felt like you couldn't take his comments anymore. "Slovenly?" you replied, your voice filling with incredulity. "I'm not a slob, Sunday. I'm just being comfortable in MY own home."

The tension in the air was palpable. Sunday's irritation was now almost palpable, and he looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure.

"Your 'comfort' is an excuse for being undisciplined," he said, his voice growing louder. "You think because you're at home, you can just relax and do whatever you want. You have an obligation to yourself to maintain a certain standard of behavior and appearance."

'Obligation?'

You snapped.

"Who the hell do you think you are to dictate my behavior and appearance?" Your frustration boiled over. "You're not my boss, Sunday. You're my partner. You're supposed to support and respect me, not nitpick and control every little thing I do. This isn't a military drill, it's a home."

Sunday's own frustration flared up as you stood your ground. "I'm just trying to help you be better. If you'd just listen and take my advice - "

"Oh, so it's 'advice' now?" You interrupted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're not advising me. You're ordering me around like a damn soldier."

"I'm not just supposed to sit idly by and watch you act carelessly. It's my duty to guide and correct you when you're veering off the right path." he shot back, his voice rising in volume.

You couldn't help but use sarcasm again at his loud tone of voice. "Oh, right, right."

"In the process, teach me how to breathe, yes? I'm sure I'm doing that wrong too."

That comment clearly hit a nerve and Sunday's irritation turned into anger.

"You're being sarcastic and disrespectful again," he said.

"Disrespectful my-!" Your words were quickly cut off.

By he stepped closer, towering over you.

"How insolent!" And the moment he spoke, his hand rose above his head.

Just as you were about to retaliate, your words were cut off by a swift and firm slap across your cheek.

The sudden shock left you stunned, your mind spinning for a moment. Your hand gingerly touched your now stinging cheek.

Sunday stood there, his face filled with disbelief. It was as if he was just as surprised as you were by what he had just done. For a moment, both of you remained silent. The air was filled with shock and a tense silence.

You knew Sunday was stern and strict, but this was the first time he had ever raised a hand at you.

The atmosphere in the room was now even more tense. You felt a knot forming in your stomach and throat, fear and anger mixed together forming a confusing sensation.

The realization of what had just happened was slowly reaching your brain.

He slapped you. He actually dared to lay a hand on you.

The room echoed in deafening silence, the only sound was your own breath, which now came in and out rapidly.

Sunday stood there, his hand still slightly raised as if frozen in time.

Sunday's breathing started to quicken as he began to regain his composure.

His eyes widened after realizing what he had done, his gaze fixed on your reddening cheek.

Your own mind was reeling, trying to process this moment. Just moments before, the conversation was heated, but it had never crossed the line into physical violence.

The stinging sensation on your cheek was slowly turning into a dull ache.

You could feel tears start to sting the corners of your eyes, at that point, you couldn't identify whether it was because of the fact that he had dared to do that or because of the sudden sharp pain in your face.

Sunday's expression morphed from shock to something akin to helplessness. He had crossed a boundary that he never thought he was capable of crossing. All this time, he thought that words were enough to guide and correct, but for the first time, he had crossed the line.

He tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was silence.

The tension in the room was palpable.

He finally managed to speak in a shaky, low voice. "I… I didn't mean… I'm sorry, I don't-"

But you were already at the brink of breaking down. The pain on your cheek combined with the emotional turmoil was becoming unbearable.

You couldn't hold it back anymore.

A soft sob escaped your lips, your tears starting to spill down your aching cheek.

Sunday's heart ached as he saw you starting to break down before him.

He captiously took a step forward, his hand reached out towards you, but stopped midway. He didn't know if he should comfort you or keep his distance after what he had just done.

His voice was a hushed whisper. "Please, let me-"

The sight of him trying to touch you after what he had just done sent a shockwave of fear and anger through you.

"Go ahead," you said, trying to get your voice out without any sobbing.

"Go ahead," You repeated, turning your face a little, pointing to your cheek that wasn't hit. "slap me again,"

At no time did the tears stop, practically you spit out the words between cut-down and agitated breaths.

"Surely this is how your 'father' hit you," you said again, with hatred in your tone. "Surely he did the same for you to be obedient,"

Your words, despite being fueled by anger and pain, stung like a dagger through Sunday's heart.

He stood frozen in place, shocked at the comparison you had just made.

Sunday had revealed to you in a previous conversation how strict Gopher Wood was, raising him to be obedient and disciplined. Growing up, there were times him had used physical means to discipline him for mistakes.

He couldn't deny that his upbringing had influenced his way of thinking and acting, but he had never, ever considered crossing the same boundaries Gopher Wood had.

He had never spoken about it with pride, and in fact, he often looked ashamed when he spoke of the times he was reprimanded in such a manner.

He shook his head, voice shaky. "I'm not like him, It's not the same-"

"Isn't it?" you cut him off, your voice quivering with pain and anger.

"Why? Because you love me?" you continued, the tears now flowing freely down your face.

"Because your father didn't love you? That's the difference?"

Sunday clenched his jaw, your words hitting him deep.

You continued, your voice choked with emotion. "If that's the difference, then you're just as bad," your words cut like blades.

"Maybe even worse, because you should know better." you finished, your voice a broken whisper.

The room was once again heavy with silence, the only sound being the occasional soft sob that escaped through your tears.

Sunday's face was pale, a mix of shame and helplessness.

All he could do was stand there, watching you fall apart before his eyes.

The sight of you broke his heart, but the knowledge that he had caused this breakdown weighed heavily on his soul.

He didn't know what to say, how to justify this to you or even to himself.

He just stood there, feeling like a complete failure.

"I hate you, Sunday," you murmured, As you passed your hands across your face, be careful not to dry your tears abruptly, down your sensitive cheek.

Maybe he is a failure.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[luke-hughes43]

surprise | luke and stella

this takes place like barely 2 months into them dating. and is really cute bc they are both still in that awkward phase.

~

stella's pov

so for columbus day weekend, i'm heading to michigan for a tournament and a visit with the softball program too. i was hoping to get to see luke but the timing of my games, his games, and then going to ann arbor, it just isn't working out.

but that's ok. i'm coming out for thanksgiving to see him anyways.

mom is coming with me to michigan and ellen offered to pick us up. i take a quick nap on the plane because as soon as we land, we're heading to the field.

it is borderline too cold for softball so i have my under layers on. i'm playing centerfield and in the leadoff position. we have a double header tonight and then a double header tomorrow. so lots of softball. and then sunday will be play until you lose and then i have my michigan visit on monday.

i'm hoping to be able to surprise luke at his game tomorrow night but we'll see how i feel. anyways, the game starts and it's going good. i'm getting good hits and making the plays in the field.

i get up in the 5th inning and bunt to get on. then i get the steal sign and take off for second base. i slide into the base and my cleat gets caught in the base and my knee twists. i hold my knee while staying on the base and the umpire calls time.

i still haven't gotten up yet and so my coach comes running out, "what's wrong? are you ok?"

"i twisted my knee when my foot touched the base. i think i'm good, i just need a second." i say and get up to my knees. i finally stand and just walk around a little bit. i do a little jog and tell my coach, "i'm good coach. hurts but i'm good."

"are you sure? i can sub you out so that you're good for the next game." he double checks. I nod, "i'm good."

he nods and goes back to the dugout and i get set at the base. the game goes on and we win the first game 4-2. my knee hurts the rest of the first game and all of the second game but i power through.

in between games, i'm icing my knee and both bella and avery (my bestest friends in the whole world) come over to me. bella asks, "are you ok stella?"

i nod and say, "yea. just hurts a little bit but i'll be ok."

avery says, "ok." and they just sit with me while i ice my knee and we gossip about everything going on at school before we have to get ready for the second game.

the second game goes fine, we win 2-1 but my knee kills. as soon as i get back to the dugout i take my cleats off and put ice on my knee. we had the last game of the night so i don't rush to get out. i lay on the ground with my knee propped up on the bench and ice my knee.

after i don't even know how much time passes, my mom comes in to the dugout and says, "hey honey. how's the knee?"

"it hurts but i'll be fine." i say with my eyes closed.

"ok. do you need anything from me?" she asks. i shake my head and then she continues, "ok. well honey, please hurry up. you have someone who wants to see you. and i think coach is waiting for you."

i nod and finally get up. i'm confused as to who would be here to see me but she does have a point that coach probably wants to talk with the whole team there. i put my sneakers on and grab my bag to head over to the team huddle. as i leave the dugout, i hear what sounds like my boyfriend say, "hey there superstar."

i turn and make eye contact with luke. he's here. oh my fucking god he's here. oh my god. i run over and hug him. he holds me tightly and kisses my head. i say against his chest, "i've missed you."

"i've missed you too stella."

we both pull away form the hug just enough to kiss each other. i smile into the kiss and hold him tight to me, not wanting to let go. i hear my coach yell, "zegras, let's go! kiss your boyfriend on your own time!" the girls giggle and so do i. i peck his lips and he says, "go. i'll wait right here for you."

i nod and hobble over to the team. the girls are giggling and bella elbows me. i smile and nod and listen to coach debrief the game. to be honest, i'm not actually listening. the only thing on my mind is luke luke luke.

i zone back just in time to hear coach dismiss us. i go straight back over to luke and into his arms again. not only because i've missed him so much but it's also cold as fuck. while holding me, luke asks, "how's your knee baby?"

"i'm fine. it hurts a little bit but i'll be ok. nothing i can't handle." i say into his chest. after like a minute, he asks, "are the two girls who are looking here every 30 seconds bella and avery?"

"yea." i respond quietly. i turn and wave them over. i say to luke, "and now you're about to meet them. bella is a guard dog and avery is really shy."

he nods and they come over. i say to them, "bella and avery, this is luke my boyfriend. luke, this is bella and avery. my best friends."

avery says quietly, "it's nice to meet you." luke smiles at her and bella says, "nice to meet you luke."

"you guys too. stella talks a lot about you guys. really good things." he says with a smile. avery smiles but bella's face remains the same, she's not impressed. she's very protective of me. she says, "so how do you expect to make long distance work luke? i know it's hard and i'll be the one picking up the pieces if you break her heart."

"i don't plan on breaking her heart. i know it's hard but we text almost everyday, we call twice a week. and have some trips planned to see each other. i promise bella, i really like her and i really wanna make this work with her. whatever it takes."

"good. because i have a bat and i will fly to michigan to hit you with it if you break her heart." bella threatens. i giggle and luke nods, "understood. plus, her brother is best friends with mine. if i break her heart, trevor knows where i live and will kill me."

"fair enough. you're acceptable." bella says and winks at me. luke smiles and holds me tight. my mom walks over and says, "hey honey. i'm gonna meet up with ellen and catch up. you're welcome to come but i imagine that you wanna stay with luke. he's welcome to come to the hotel tonight but he can't stay over. i'll text you when i'm on my way back. do you guys need a ride?"

luke shakes his head, "no thanks mrs. zegras. i drove here so i can take her back, it's not a problem." she smiles and heads off. luke tights his arm that's around me and i say, "i think we should go soon because it's cold and my knee hurts."

luke smiles, "we will stel. bella, avery, it was great meeting you guys and i hope to get to see you guys again. i'm gonna get her back to the hotel to rest and i might see you tomorrow but i don't know yet."

they both nod and we walk off to luke's car. he opens the door and helps me in like a gentleman. he starts the car and hands me the aux cord. i start playing music and he makes the short drive to the hotel.

once we get there, we go up to the room and i all but collapse on my bed for the night. luke laughs, "comfy?"

"yes. but i need to shower and i want cuddles." i say into the pillow. he chuckles, "go shower. then we can cuddle and you can ice your knee."

i nod and take a quick shower. i quickly change and immediately get into bed with luke. he pulls me tight into him and i rest my head on his chest. i say in almost a whisper, "i wish we got to this more often."

"me too. i hate that our time is always so limited." he responds. he rubs my back softly and kisses my head. i wrap my arm around him and cuddle as close to him as i can. i say, "yea. but next year we'll be on the same campus and you'll be so much closer."

"i know. just have to get there." he says. i nod and we just lay together in the silence. i must've fallen asleep because i woke up the next morning to my alarm blaring and luke gone.

here's to another day of softball.

(thinking this deserves a part 2 no?)

[luvissues]

ngl been thinking about religious johnny at least once a week

i don’t mean in the “church every sunday” way or in the “monthly penance” way. johnny doesn’t have time to bury himself behind the walls of a confessional; his knees dig too roughly into the kneeler, rugged fabric of his jeans scraping and tearing at it. he would be in there for hours if it meant confessing all his sins, and even if he can’t see the priest, he’s not sure he could subject the poor man to such horrors.

his faith is something that lingers on the back-burner. he calls out for it when things go south on a mission, when he finds himself compromised. ponders on it for a moment when he registers the bullet sinking into his head- barely has time to hope that he might’ve done just enough good to redeem himself, if this means he’s going to face the big man upstairs now.

but the way he is with you is certainly going to wipe away any of the good deeds he’s done, and you’re sure of that. how could he wear a cross round his neck when the way he acts towards you is nothing short of sinful?

and when he’s nestled between your legs or towering over you from behind, hands roaming and grabbing and pulling in a way that seems both unaptly malicious and reverent, you faintly give a thought to what the scriptures say about worshipping false idols.

(to johnny, it seems more of a sin not to devote himself to you in this way. when asked, he’ll murmur something about how faith isn’t true without works- and he’s simply thanking the father for what he has, hen, but what is a man if not true in both word and action?)

he’s a tried and true bastard, a worn soul. and maybe he doesn’t have to go to confession, not if the way he treats you can compensate for all the bad he’s done.

that’s what he seems to be going for, anyway. because even if the way he acts is nasty and depraved, he never looks to you with anything but utmost veneration.

the balancing act between the two often leaves you confused, sure, but to him? it makes perfect sense. he’s a good ol’ boy, lass, just trust him. how else would he honor his father, if not by taking care of the most precious thing he’s created?

[parsheliii]

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza... Err... This is your first night isn't it Great-"

"George, that's the wrong one"

"What?"

"That's the wrong script, you are reading the wrong one!"

"Uh...Oh! I see now, this one?"

"Yup"

"K...

Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria! Where all dreams come true!

Come enjoy a slide of pizza with all your family and friends while listening some fancy music from the Fazbear's Band! Or hearing some curious stories at the Pirate Cove.

Alfred Fazbear, the leader of the band, with Benjamin Babier, our guitarrist, will be the waiters that will assist you when their performance is over, they will be the ones to bring all your wants and needs.

Chanelle Cairo, our sweet vocalist, will also be the chef and cook, the pizza's recipe hasn't changed in decades, the main creator being Alfred's father, Dock Fazbear.

...

I gotta add that Freddy doesn't know how to cook and he is a fucking failure to his family, even his sister was the chef in her own pizzeria back then, how can you be the only one that can't even fry an egg, Fazbear??"

"Keep. Reading. The. F*cking. Script"

"...And last things last, Felix Farley, being our storyteller, is also our delivery, you will get your pizza in a blink of an eye if you use our delivery services!

Being said, the bear here himself, George Kietzman, will be the one taking your phone calls and orders by calling 1-800-083, don't forget delivery services is just for night time!

Afternoon phone orders will have to be taken in the pizzeria's location.

Other things to let you know:

• Fazbear's Band perform every monday to thursday from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., so write that down in your schedules and don't miss it!

• Pirate's Cove is exclusive for saturday nights and birthday parties, so don't forget to book your next birthday party at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria to enjoy some new stories from our beloved pirate fox!

• Friday nights are the perfect nights for YOU to perform! Come over and show all your talent, or just have some fun at the karaoke with your friends while singing the songs of your choice!

• We are closed on sundays, so we will be seeing you on mondays back again!

That's it, how did I do?"

"...Could have been better"

____________________________________

Endless Show At Freddy's is based on the characters and story from Five Nights At Freddy's, owned by Scott Cawthon.

The story and characters are REALLY different. It includes a lot kind of relationships and ideas that aren't canon in game, but they are in this AU, if you aren't happy with them, I'm not going to change them just 'cause of ya', so keep your words.

The same goes with some characters' genders and designs, they might change from the original character, just because! For the fun of it :]

Who is who? Here is a short list:

Freddy Fazbear→ Alfred "Freddy" Fazbear

Bonnie The Bunny→ Benjamin "Ben" Babier

Chica The Chicken → Chanelle Cairo

Foxy The Pirate Fox→ Felix Farley

Golden Freddy→ George Frederick Kietzman

Notes:

• Mr. Cupcake is Chanelle's pet, he is a chihuahua. He doesn't work there, I just wanted to show how Chica's cupcake looks like in my AU

• If you have been here long enough, George still has ear piercings, but in this reff sheet I couldn't add them because they are in his other ear (this is mostly a note for myself, because I will probably forget lol)

• Felix has another outfit when he works as the delivery, I just preferred to show him with his pirate clothes, I don't want anyone confused by 'why doesn't he have pirate clothes???" I'll do an individual reff just for his delivery clothes, including Chanelle, she also has another clothes while cooking, i'm not going to let her cook with that cute dress!

[ofthemorningstars]

Gifts of the Sabbath (Part 1)

TerzOmega ~ Smut below the cut

2k words

Part 2

Ao3 Version

Terzo Leashes Omega

Omega gives Terzo roses. Terzo gives Omega... something else.

---

Today was going to be special. Omega could feel it. 

It was a Sunday, which was usually the worst day of the week for them. Now that Terzo was Papa, Terzo was responsible for leading mass and had a laundry list of duties hanging over his head. Sundays were the dark lord’s most unholy of days, after all. There was always something else that needed to be done. Terzo was often kept away into the late hours of the night, sometimes even until early morning. If they got to see each other at all on Sunday, it was usually just to crash in the same bed.

Omega, on the other hand, had Sundays off. All of the ghouls did. In a PR move by the ministry, it was decided that even the lowliest of Satan’s servants were allowed their day of rest. Omega wasn’t complaining about getting a break, but he did wish that he could spend it with Terzo. Their time apart was made lonelier by not having work as a distraction.

Today was different. Terzo was sick. Evidently, sick enough that the Imperator had allowed him to stay in his chambers to recover. This was a rare mercy indeed. Primo would be taking over that morning’s sermon, much to his delight, Omega was sure. 

While Omega wasn’t happy to see Terzo suffer, he was grateful for the opportunity to spend the entire day together. That was quite rare for the off-season, when they weren’t on tour. Plus, caring for Terzo while he was ill offered a taste of the domestic life they so badly craved. Omega was always eager to take advantage of any opportunity to dote on his husband.

Omega sent one last text to Terzo, alerting him that he was almost there. While the majority of the church would be at mass right now, he wanted to minimize the risk of being caught. Usually he would sneak out to be with Terzo after lights-out; venturing to the papal suite during the day was bold. He was feeling bold today, though. He would be arriving with flowers in hand. Roses, to be specific. Roses swiped from Primo’s prized rose garden.

Omega could only get through two knocks before the door swung open and he was quickly pulled inside. Before he knew what was happening, Terzo was upon him, hugging him tightly. His hair was slightly damp, his cheeks pink. Oh no, Omega thought. He really was sick. He must be feverish. Indeed, he did feel warm against him, but… What was that smell? Vanilla and sandalwood? Had he just gotten out of the bath? 

“I see you’ve been raiding my brother’s garden. Are those for me?” Terzo asked cheekily, pointing to the roses. Omega nodded, pleased with himself but confused about Terzo’s perky demeanor. “Ah, grazie, amore mio! You are too good to me. I will go get a vase for them.” Terzo leaned up to kiss Omega’s cheek before turning and leaving the room, presumably headed to the kitchenette. But were those… black stockings that he was wearing beneath his dressing gown?

When Terzo returned to put the roses on the sitting room table, Omega got a better look. He was indeed wearing stockings. His suspicions grew. 

“Terzo?” Omega asked warily. “I thought you were sick. Is everything alright?”

Terzo’s smile was coy. “Everything is more than alright, amore mio. We are about to have a very good day.” 

Terzo undid his robe, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath he wore a matching set of black lace panties and garters. It was Omega’s favorite set. Omega swallowed hard, beginning to realize the trouble he was in. Terzo took his hand and led him to sit on the sofa before straddling him, settling in comfortably. He began to run his hands along Omega’s pecs. Omega’s confusion wrestled with budding arousal.

“Terzo,” Omega cautioned quietly.  “She’s going to kill you if she finds out you’re not really ill. Hell, Primo might, too. You know he likes to stay in bed on Sundays.”

“It will be fine. You worry too much. It’s not like I do this often.” Terzo began kissing Omega’s neck, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Today is just a special occasion.”

“Oh? Special how?” Omega raised an eyebrow. Terzo didn’t answer. “You know, I was worried about you. I came over here with the intention of taking care of you.” Omega’s voice was soft. He ran his claws through Terzo’s hair. 

Terzo looked up. “Oh, you will be taking care of me plenty,” he said, words laden with promise. 

Omega’s heart skipped a beat, his mouth going dry. Terzo had finally gotten his shirt undone and was lavishing Omega’s chest with attention. Wasting no time, Terzo went straight for a nipple. Omega sucked in a breath as he felt himself beginning to stir already. He wanted to press the issue of Terzo’s flippant behavior, but his mind went blank when Terzo began to grind on him. Omega was far too easy when it came to Terzo, and Terzo knew it. Terzo always knew exactly which buttons to push to make him come undone.

“Terzo–” Omega tried again, but he was cut off by Terzo’s mouth descending on his. When Omega kissed back, Terzo’s hands began to explore Omega’s torso, sensually caressing, teasing. They wandered down until they reached the waistband of his pants. Terzo skated over Omega’s crotch with the lightest touch, running his fingers down Omega’s inner thighs. When Terzo pulled away from Omega’s mouth, Omega tried to follow. Terzo reached for something towards the other end of the couch, coming back with a long black box. Omega didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now.

“I have a gift for you, amore,” Terzo purred, eyes full of mischief. He presented the box to Omega. “Open it.”

Omega complied, eyebrows shooting up as he removed the lid. He pulled the contents out slowly: a powder pink leather collar with a matching leash. The hardware was gold, the inside lined with soft suede. Omega huffed out a laugh, trying to ignore just how uncomfortable his pants were becoming. 

“What, you want me to take you out for a walk?” Omega snarked, but his cheeks were heating up. “Is that why today is special?”

Terzo’s smile grew wider. “Oh no, mio caro, this is not for me,” Terzo replied, voice syrupy. He ran a hand up Omega’s bicep and over his shoulder, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. “Not today, anyway,” he added, relishing the look in Omega’s eyes.

Omega was dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” Terzo replied, unzipping Omega’s pants and slipping his hand inside, cupping him through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. Omega winced; he had the sinking feeling that he was about to fight a losing battle with himself. 

“You really want me to wear that? Me??” Omega’s voice cracked. “You– You couldn’t have at least gotten a different color?” Terzo’s started to rub him over his underwear. His resolve was crumbling unusually fast.

“What? It’s cute,” Terzo said simply, placing a lingering kiss on Omega’s cheek. “I know you are excited to try it. Your body is giving you away.” Terzo ran his fingers over a wet spot on Omega’s underwear, the fabric sticking to Omega’s skin with precum. Omega shuddered, eyes closing. He couldn’t deny that his thoughts were racing, head swimming with possibilities. Terzo squeezed him firmly and Omega squeaked. His eyes shot open.

“A– Are you sure you don’t just want to eat brunch or something? You know, since we’re together during the daytime and you’re not really sick,” Omega stammered in an unusually high pitch, trying to find any flimsy excuse to get out of this. To deny the truth. Deep down, the idea was very enticing. 

“Mm. I had something else in mind that I wanted to eat.” Terzo ran his tongue up Omega’s neck in one slow lick. Omega let out a shuddering breath, fidgeting in his seat. Terzo grabbed the collar and held it up to Omega’s neck as if sizing it. He whispered in Omega’s ear, “May I?” He graced his earlobe with a nip while he was there.

Omega shivered. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He took a moment, then nodded, wondering with dread and excitement what he had just agreed to.

Terzo wrapped the collar around Omega’s neck, fastening it at the back. The fit was snug, but not tight. The soft lining was surprisingly comfortable on his skin. Omega could feel himself begin to throb gently at the pressure around his throat. Terzo attached the leash to Omega’s collar and took the other end firmly in his hand. Terzo slid from Omega’s lap to kneel at his feet, encouraging him to spread his legs. He wiggled Omega’s pants and underwear down his hips just enough to give him access. 

Once freed, Terzo took Omega’s cock in hand and gave him a few good pumps. Omega’s head fell back on the couch. He felt the slight tug of the short leash at the movement; it served as a reminder of what he had signed up for. Terzo gave him a long lick, kissing the tip before sinking Omega’s length down his throat. He began to bob rhythmically. Omega squirmed, gasping and gripping the sofa cushions. He was already too over-excited. He wondered with a grimace if he was going to ruin whatever Terzo had in mind by finishing too quickly. It was looking more and more like a real possibility by the second. Terzo reached up to cup his balls, stroking. Omega tensed, trying his best to fight off the inevitable.

Terzo opened his eyes, looking up to make eye contact with Omega. Heat flooded through Omega’s body as Terzo released him just to take another leisurely lick up his shaft, holding his gaze while he swirled his tongue around the head. Omega whined; Terzo was determined to cut their little game short, it seemed. Terzo took Omega back into his mouth and started working him even harder, his hands stroking Omega’s inner thighs.

“Please,” Omega said softly, already hanging on by a thread and too close to turn back. Terzo picked up the pace and began to moan around him, letting him feel the vibration. Yes, this was it, just a few seconds more, please–

Omega came into Terzo’s mouth with a low groan, his whole body tensing before going limp. As he caught his breath, he wondered what exactly the point of the leash had been, if Terzo wasn’t going to use it–

And then he was being yanked down by the collar to Terzo’s level. Before he could process what was happening, Terzo grabbed the back of his head and pried his mouth open with his tongue, flooding Omega’s mouth with his own cum. Omega spluttered and coughed in shock, not having had time to prepare for the unexpected intrusion. He loved it when he tasted himself on Terzo’s lips, but he was going to need a minute. As he sat there catching his breath, all he could focus on was how intensely turned on he was even after release. How badly he wanted more.

Terzo might actually kill him this time.

Terzo gave Omega a few minutes to recover. He returned to the sofa with Omega, stroking his hair and speaking soft praises to him. When he was sure he could handle it, Omega sat forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs.

“Are you alright, mio caro?” Terzo asked, placing a kiss to his temple.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to keep going?” Terzo’s question was earnest. Omega was free to say no at any point.

Omega paused for a moment before answering. “Yes.”

Terzo’s smile was like sunshine as he rose to his feet. He reached out and ran his fingers through Omega’s hair, saying sweetly, “That’s my good ghoul.”

Omega’s jaw went slack at the praise. His entire body felt as if it would catch fire. 

He really was in trouble. 

Omega stood on unsteady feet and was directed to strip. He did as he was told. Terzo then gently guided him onto all fours. He thought he should feel humiliated, but all he felt was a jagged thrill tearing through his core. He allowed Terzo to lead him into the bedroom, his tail practically tucked between his legs. He got more and more excited with each tug of the leash.

[fieldofdaisiies]

nessian week masterlist

I haven’t done headcanons in a long time, and for this prompt it felt so right to do some fluffy modern Nessian + daughter Alayla ones

while on the outside Cassian is this strong and tough army general, behind closed doors and especially with his daughter, his is this big soft teddy bear

there is not a single wish he would not fulfil his little daughter (or his wonderful wife Nesta)

that can reach from breakfast in bed, to tea parties with her stuffed animals or going to Disney Land

“Try it!” Alayla is beaming, watching how Cassian takes a bite from the chocolate cookie she has just made. She mixed together all sorts of things in the kitchen, Cassian watched her and then helped her bake them (he would never allow her to use the oven alone).

Cassian fights the urge to grimace, tries to force a smile on his lips while nodding, and forcing down the bite. It’s disgusting, but how should he tell her?

“Lovely,” he brings out, still trying to smile.

But Alayla pouts, reading him just as well as her mother. “You hate them?” She furrows her brows, and silver lines her eyes.

So, Cassian is quick, shoving the whole cookie into his mouth and then a second one. “No. Deli-f-oms.” He holds both his thumbs up. “I momf them.”

Alayla also loves to play beauty salon and paint her parents nails, or do their hair

“Your right hand, daddy.” Alayla throws her hands, also the one tightly clasping the nail polish brush with the hot pink tip, into the air. “You need to focus, we are not doing this for fun. This is business.” She rolls her eyes and with the toss of her hair over her right shoulder she reaches for Cassian’s hand and holds it down before starting to paint his thumb and also the skin around it in bright pink.

Nesta laughs, slightly mischievously, from where she is leaning against the doorframe, her gaze moving from her daughter and Cassian to her own hands and the bright orange and pastel green gracing her nails, and the skin around them.

“Mummy always calls you my pretty man so we need to do your hair next.” Alayla thankfully spared Nesta’s hair. She explained to her daughter that it would be lovely if the blow-out she had done just the day before could stay the way it is.

Reluctantly, Alayla had agreed and decided to do Cassian’s hair instead, braiding some strands and pinning others with Barbie and Paw Patrol hair clips. (Also, on more than one occasion has it happened already that Nesta went to work with a one of those hair clips pinned to her hair). 

Rhys and Az will never let Cassian forget that one day he also forgot to remove the hot pink from his nails and fingers and showed up like this to training – “A sight for sore eyes,” as Rhys called it

Az and Rhys have been laughing for a solid twenty minutes, until Cassian came up with some stories about them and their kids

let’s now talk about cuddling

this family loves cuddling

staying in bed on a rainy Sunday, watching Alayla’s favourite shows on the TV in Nesta and Cassian’s bedroom, while eating in bed

“What’s his name?” Cassian asks, taking a big bite from his toast. 

Alayla sighs dramatically and Nesta, laughing, says. “It’s a girl, Cass, and her name is Skye. You finally need to remember.”

“You really do, she’s my favourite.” Alayla grins, mimicking the way Skye, the dog, is flying over the sky. Then she rests her hand on Cassian’s shoulder, and purses her lips. “Who is your favourite?” she asks in a very serious tone. 

Cassian swallows, then squints his eyes at the screen before looking at his daughter. Her eyes are trained on the TV screen and so Cassian throws Nesta a help seeking glance, before mouthing “What is the fire pup’s name?”

Nesta has to hold back from laughing, she bites the insides of her cheeks and then mouths “Marshall.” 

A thankful smile appears on Cassian’s face. “Marshall!”

“Ah!” Alayla taps her chin, nodding slowly. “Interesting.”

Interesting indeed, Cassian thinks when he ends up having to play said dog when Nyx, Dalia and Zada are over for a visit. 

Since they are three girls and only one boy (Nyx wants to be Chase, Dalia Everest, Zada Zuma) they are in need of another male dog and since Cassian’s favourite is Marshall, he earns himself this roll, much to Nesta’s amusement

and lastly, Cassian is a great cook and there is nothing better for Nesta and Alayla to enjoy one of his amazing meals

Cassian who was alone a lot as a child due to his mother working so much learned to cook very early on

He creates amazing meals, some of them are only reserved for his family

Nesta will never stop praising his talent, and the same goes for Alayla who boasts to her cousins and friends that her father is the best cook in the entire world

tags: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt (no smut) @crushedcloudx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me @swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @bookishbroadwaybish

for @nessianweek💛

[alwaysurvalentine]

bad days are meant to be shared - st fic

Written for Day 10 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: "Where were you?" - word count: 3.7k - cw: some cussing, mentions of nausea but no vomiting (Steve Harrington centric, but Eddie saves the day)

enjoy! 💛

Working at Family Video is fine. It really is. It can be mindless but Steve doesn’t mind it, or at least he doesn’t mind when he wakes up feeling refreshed. Instead he got to wake up feeling groggy, a heaviness settling in his head that he knows can turn into a migraine if he isn’t careful. His heartbeat is already pulsing through his body but he figures the medicine he took this morning with his coffee should hold off the worst of it until Robin comes in. She’ll be able to talk to the customers and he can just focus on restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes. He’s just got to make it until 2. Only one hour to go until she walks in and so far it’s been pretty quiet for a Friday. Only one more hour and then he won’t have to answer the phone when it rings or-

Speaking of the phone, it starts to ring and he sighs. He wishes he didn’t have to answer, but would rather answer than listen to it continue to ring – acting like an ice pick to his brain.

“Thank you for calling Family Video, how can I help you?” 

“Steve! Hey!” Robin’s out of breath on the other end of the line and Steve can picture her wrestling jeans on while talking on the phone. “Can you do me a huuuuge favor? Can you please please cover for me today? Chrissy invited me out to the lake for a picnic!”

He knows he’s going to regret it, especially with how his head already feels, but he also knows she’s covered for him before. Plus, he’s been dying to tell her ‘I told you so’ about the whole Chrissy Situation (TM), since Robin refuses to believe the other girl likes her. Steve’s seen cheerleaders flirt, he knows what it means that Chrissy always finds a way to touch Robin in some way. Examples include bumping shoulders while they walk all the way to brushing Robin’s hair behind her ears – Steve swears she’s hopeless. The girl can figure out Russian in no time, but a girl flirting with her? Might as well be the nuclear codes. Though he thinks Robin could figure that out faster.

“Yeah, Robs. ‘Course I can.” His voice comes out more gruff than he intended, but the light from the front window is just hitting his eyes worse than it was before. The echo of his pounding heartbeat intensifies. There’s a small pause on the other end of the phone, damn Robin and her ability to read him. “Someone’s about to walk in – talk later?” 

“Sure, but Ste-” He hangs up. No one’s walking up to the store but Steve stands behind the register for a moment regardless. He crosses his arms on the counter in front of him and leans against them for a couple breaths. Now he’s got four hours to go before he can leave and no one to cover for him if this headache does become a migraine. Hopefully Hawkins will decide to go to the actual movie theater in town rather than coming in for a rental. Four hours until he gets to go home. Where he planned on cooking dinner for Eddie tonight, shit. His head throbs at the idea. No, it’ll be fine. He’ll make it through his shift, make dinner for Eddie, call Robin to ask about her date, clean up dinner, and then go to bed. Imagining his and Eddie’s bed, soft sheets and fluffy pillows gives him some hope; imagining Eddie’s arms around him when he falls asleep brings a small smile to his face. 

The bell attached to the front door rings and he sighs before standing straight, his customer service smile already painted on his face when he realizes it’s Dustin that’s walked through the door. As always, his curls are wild under his cap, and he’s wearing his green ‘Camp Know Where’ shirt. 

“Steve! Get this! So was messing around with my mom’s radio to see what parts I could use to make my own phonograph -” And the pulsing is back. Steve knows as long as he keeps on nodding every so often and places a couple ‘oh really?’s in there Dustin will carry this whole conversation on his own. Dustin’s mom is a saint, but Steve knows that sometimes her suggestions for ‘Dusty’ to get some air is to give her some time alone in the house. Which usually leads him to wherever Steve is or the rest of the Party – Steve seems to be the lucky winner today.

A family makes their way into the store, Mrs. Dawson and her two boys. Steve doesn’t remember their names but he eyes them as they race off to the cartoon section of the shelves. Mrs. Dawson sets down a couple movies in front of him on the counter, a grimace on her face. Her lipstick is a bright pink that almost hurts to look at. 

“Let me just pull up your account to get this squared away. Did you need help finding anything today?” His voice sounds plastic even to him, and distantly he can hear Dustin still talking about the pieces of the camcorder. What the hell is a beam splitter? Anyway – Amelia Dawson’s record shows the two movies on the counter, she’s turning them in on the last day before late fees but that’s fine. He checks that she’s returned them and goes to grab the cases (Robin Hood and Pete’s Dragon smile up at him from their plastic covers); now that he has his hands on them – are very sticky. Like dipped in caramel sticky. Luckily Mrs. Dawson’s attention is back on her boys who have decided to try and play tag in the aisles, uncaring of their elbows catching on movies at the end of shelves and leaving them to clatter on the floor. Steve fights a gag at the feeling and scoots the movies to the side of the counter, he can rewind them later. 

“So as I was saying, now I just have to get a couple of parts from Radio Shack and I should be able to record my own waves and see what they look like. If I can do that, then-” Steve tunes him out again, nodding along like he has any idea about what Dustin is talking about. Why does he need to see how words sound?

“Boys, come on now, we don’t want to keep daddy waiting – let’s go. Time for a late lunch.” Luckily, the twins – who he finally remembers are Michael and Matthew – take off towards the door at their mom’s words. Pushing at each other to see who’s going to get there first. The cardboard cut out for the month, Sigourney Weaver’s character from Aliens, falls to the floor in their wake but at least the store is noticeably quieter without them. Dustin asks to use the bathroom and Steve just nods as he rounds the counter. The movies that fell earlier get placed on the shelf and he makes a mental note to move them to the right places before he leaves today. He’s standing the cutout back up when he gets hit with a wave of nausea. He closes his eyes and slowly inhales, knows if he pukes now the rest of his shift will be absolute hell. With his eyes closed it’s a lot easier to hone in on the sounds of the fluorescent lights. Normally it’s a gentle buzz in the background, but today the lights seem to be doing their best impression of a drum line that just won’t quit. The nausea lessens and Steve glances at his watch. Just three hours left to go.

~

“Steve, what do you think?” Hazel eyes blink and Dustin comes into focus again, his eyes expectant. Steve knows he’s waiting for an answer to something but he genuinely has no idea what was just asked of him. Dustin’s eyebrows furrow slightly as the silence continues. Steve’s head is still throbbing and he can feel his heartbeat all the way down to his fingers. 

“What did you say?” 

Dustin huffs, rolling his eyes before repeating(?) his question. “I said, do you think that we can record the sound of silence as a sound wave? Because when it’s quiet your ears can make that ringing noise, do you think it’s quantifiable? And if it is, do you think there’s some kind of link to that sound to the part of the ear that is affected by deafness?”

Steve knows all of those words individually, but thinking of them in a sequence that makes sense to him right now is not happening. He even knows what Dustin means by the ringing noise, but he didn’t realize other people heard that too – thought that was just a him thing. Dustin must be able to tell he doesn’t have an answer because he crosses his arms. 

“Do you even listen to me when I’m talking?” Steve shouldn’t, especially with how riled up Dustin already appears to be, but he tunes him out again. Choosing instead to focus on the man walking through the door behind his friend. 

“Welcome to Family Video!” 

Distantly Steve wonders if Robin and Chrissy are having a good time at the lake, it’s been a sunny day. Probably hot enough to swim honestly. He feels bad for thinking it, but he hopes that Eddie’s bandmates are gone by the time he gets home. Normally he’d be fine with them at the apartment since they help bring out the best in Eddie, but he knows that they can also get pretty loud, especially if they’re messing with their instruments. He still needs to reorganize the shelves and rewind a couple films before the end of his shift. The thought of dinner makes his stomach turn and he wishes he could just go to bed once he gets home. But tonight’s his turn to cook, him and Eddie switching off days to make sure no one’s cooking all of the time. 

“Excuse me?” A hand snaps in front of his face, bringing his attention to Mr. Jameson’s annoyed face. “Can you check me out or not? I don’t see anyone else here.” His words bite and Steve silently nods. Glancing at the title before looking up his name in the system. The screen is blurry and all the words look like one long dark line across the screen. 

“Sorry, sir. Your total is-” before Steve could finish a five dollar bill was placed on the counter. “Okay, your change is $3.50. Here you-”

“No, you owe me four dollars back. Not $3.50. This is why I normally have that girl check me out. You’d think you’d know how much to charge by now.” 

“No sir, it’s 50 cents per day, and typical rental time is three days. So that’s $1.50 which makes your change $3.50.” The change sits in Steve’s hand, two quarters pinched between his index finger and thumb. Mr. Jameson stares him down, eyes filled with anger, and Steve’s over it. Whatever, he’s got 5o cents in his car that he can put in the drawer to make it balanced later. He pops open the drawer and pulls out another dollar, dropping the quarters back into their slot. Four dollar bills are snatched from his hand and Mr. Jameson grunts before stomping out the door. 

“Steve? What the hell? You’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” Dustin’s voice is shrill when he talks, getting higher near the end, and Steve just breaks.

“Please shut up.” Dustin’s mouth closes with a snap, a look of hurt on his face. Steve wants to say more, explain that having his eyes opens hurts and that he can’t be bothered with customers who don’t know how to be decent; can’t be bothered with remembering what parts of the radio and camcorder and VCR player Dustin took apart for his personal project. He wants to explain that he really needs to put a cold compress on his head and lay down in the pitch black silence of his room for a few hours to be human again. 

None of this makes its way out of his tense jaw though and Dustin must decide he’s done with Steve for the day because he says nothing before turning and making his way towards the door. Fuck.

~

The last two hours of Steve’s shift passes in a blur. Someone tries to call the phone and instead of answering he covers his ears until the ringing stops and then unhooks it from the receiver. A couple of girls try fluttering their eyes at him to see what his weekend plans are but all he can think about is how he’s going to get through dinner with Eddie, and they finally leave with a disappointed glance at each other. 

Finally, he’s able to turn the open sign around – and then he remembers he never organized the movies from earlier. He fixes the shelves by dwindling sunlight, having shut off the overhead lights as soon as he could. It takes him about 30 minutes to fix it all, pausing every so often to just stand with his eyes closed. The words have lost their meanings and he hopes that basing his sorting off of the cover pictures is good enough.

Sitting in his car is the most relief Steve’s gotten all day. Eyes closed behind sunglasses he had clipped on his visor and the engine off he takes the time to breathe; the nausea has been coming and going on its own in waves and he almost wishes he could just go to sleep in his car. Getting back to the apartment is only possible through muscle memory and the knowledge that dinner still has to be made. He waits another few minutes in the car, trying to decide if any of the cars outside are of the band’s, or if he’s officially got Eddie all to himself. For the first time today he feels lucky when he doesn’t see Jeff’s car. 

Living on the second floor has its benefits, like not having upstairs neighbors and getting lots of natural sunlight for the apartment. It also has its downsides, like carrying heavy groceries in the heat and getting up to their door in one piece when a migraine has him by the throat. Even his key turning in the lock makes him cringe, clenching his teeth together as he steps in. It’s quiet in the apartment, a certain stillness in the air that Steve appreciates. He toes off his shoes, setting his keys in the little ceramic bowl El gifted him and Eddie when they moved, and then bends to straighten his shoes to the wall. Bending does not help his nausea and he swallows down a gag. 

“Stevie, honey? You make it home?” Eddie rounds the corner, a grin already on his face. His hair rests on his shoulders, frizzy curls around his head like a halo. Steve musters a small smile at Eddie, closing the distance between them with a few steps. The shirt Eddie’s wearing is well worn, old enough now that the words on the front have faded into the black around them and the collar is stretched out enough that Steve can almost see the top of a spider’s leg.

“Hey, hungry?” Normally Steve matches Eddie’s energy as best he can, but he can already feel his energy draining again. Should’ve sat in the car for a little while longer. He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek and continues his path to the kitchen. 

“You read my mind. You okay with cooking while I finish up some stuff before dinner? I promise you’ll have me all to yourself once food is ready. Just have some chords to figure out after talking with Gareth about some timing stuff.” Steve hopes Eddie’s looking when he nods because all of the movement from the stairs has caught up to him and he doesn’t think he has it in him to speak right now. 

Alone in the kitchen Steve just breathes. Almost done. Just have to brown the meat, toss it into some sauce and make the noodles. Easy. 

~

All of the ingredients are sitting on the counter when Steve finally loses the battle with his nausea and darts to the bathroom. He keeps the lights off, more focused on kneeling on the tile and trying to breathe through his gagging. A few minutes go by and he’s able to take a full breath in – just sitting down has taken the edge off. The darkness of the bathroom is more than welcome, he just wishes he wasn’t crouched over in his jeans still. Soft footsteps sound from the hallway heading towards the kitchen, guess Eddie finished his stuff.

“Stevie? Where’d you go?” As much as he’d love to answer, the effort it would take to yell for Eddie isn’t worth it right now so instead Steve leans against the tub, coolness spreading across his back. Another moment passes and Eddie rounds the corner to the bathroom, confusion on his face.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Three words and the dam holding Steve together just, breaks. His head pounds worse when the tears start but he can’t stop now that he’s started. Today sucked. And now his night’s going just as poorly. Can’t even get dinner made. Eddie’s still looking at him but he can’t make out his expression through the tears blurring his vision. 

“Okay, alright, come here.” And then Eddie’s kneeling on the ground, arms outstretched for Steve to lean in to. As soon as he leans in, he’s crumpling into Eddie’s arms. 

~

Steve’s not sure how long they sit there, him crying into Eddie’s shirt, but the collar is nice and damp by the time he pulls away.Disgusting.

“As much as I love this surprise cuddle session, wanna tell me what’s going on?” He knows Eddie doesn’t mean to, but the sound of his boyfriend’s voice almost seems to echo in the bathroom. Steve shakes his head and whines, tries to burrow further into Eddie – done with pretending. His head hurts and his whole body feels heavy like concrete. Right now the best thing in the world is having his eyes shut, head tucked into Eddie’s neck, and having his back rubbed. Without an answer though, Eddie leans back, staring at Steve hard like he’s going to hear the answer if he thinks at Steve hard enough. 

“Head.” Just one word takes a herculean effort and Steve watches as recognition lights in Eddie’s eyes. Finally. And then Steve blinks long and slow. 

~

When Steve cracks his eyes open again he’s greeted by the wall of his and Eddie’s bedroom instead of the white of the bathroom. His head is still pounding but at least it’s dark in here, the curtains are drawn and he has a feeling even if they were open only the moon would greet him. He knows Eddie’s not currently in the room because the air feels still, and distantly he thinks he can hear movement in the kitchen. 

Shit, dinner. He was supposed to cook dinner tonight. He hears the small creak of the door opening and he shuts his eyes again – he’s not ready to see or talk to Eddie yet. Embarrassment heats his face remembering how much he cried earlier, not that Eddie hasn’t seen him in worse states. But Steve Harrington taken down by a simple headache? Stupid. Can’t even contribute to the house like Eddie. Can’t keep up with Dustin when he talks. Can’t be happy for his best friend when she lands a date. 

“Hey, baby. Gotta wake up, I want you to take some medicine and drink some water.” A gentle hand is on Steve’s calf, rubbing slightly to ‘wake’ him. He burrows deeper into the blankets instead of rolling over.

“Baby…” And now Eddie just sounds disheartened, another person Steve needs to apologize to. Eddie first, for crying for no reason. Then Dustin for not listening to his rant. Then Robin for not being more excited for her. “Medicine and then water, then you can sleep some more. Come on.” 

“I’m sorry.” Steve rolls over, tugging the blanket with him . He’s miserable and can’t think of anything better than sleep. Tomorrow he can make it up to Eddie; make him breakfast, do the laundry, make a grocery list, ask him how handing out with the guys went, check in about -

“-vie, I need you to focus for just a couple minutes. Where do you keep going? Get out of that head of yours, can’t imagine it’s helping your migraine.” The words are whispered and Steve blinks at Eddie. Brown eyes meet his and he manages a small smile. 

“Sorry.”

“No need for all that. If you’d listened the first time you’d know I don’t mind. I love getting to take care of you. I love you. Stop worrying about whatever it is, there’s nothing you need to make up for – so no more apologies.” Eddie’s so earnest when he talks, a smile on his face causing small dimples to form. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other, but it’s the damp washcloth Steve can see draped on his wrist that brings a tear to his eye. Doesn’t matter if Eddie never said those three words again, his actions say them enough. Damp wash cloths when Steve’s head hurts, standing up for Steve when one of the kid’s decides they don’t want to explain a reference they make, or even when he flashes him a knowing smile behind Robin’s head when she’s talking about Chrissy. He’s full of love, and no matter how much Steve might feel like he’s messed up – he knows Eddie’s got enough love for him too.

“Hey, why are we crying? Sit up and take these.” With a small sniffle Steve nods, sits up, and takes the medicine. The washcloth is cool on his skin where Eddie rests it, letting him burrow back into the blankets – and the last thing he feels is a gentle kiss to his cheek before sleep takes him again. 

[calkale]

so many people in the aviation program wanna be fighter pilots but literally half of them would fail the entrance fitness test bro 💀 like yes you have to be smart but its such a physically demanding job too if you cant walk up stairs to class i don't think you're gonna make it

[seekingthestars]

she's beauty she's grace she's Miss Eevee Cosplay 3.0