#does his upset stomach keep him awake at night?

[perpetuallyexhaustedlibrarian]

I am LOVING Hiragi's tired dad energy in this chapter

Congrats dude if you weren't Team Mom before, you are now

[radfemsiren]

There’s something so specific about female oppression that makes you acutely aware of being a small part of a bigger phenomenon.

I’m not an Asian woman, but there’s a profound disturbance I feel when I see an Asian sister become degraded for the crime of being woman. I feel a deep hatred for sex tourism and fetishization, for maids being treated like commodities and having their passports withheld from them. I feel my stomach wretch when I see a picture of Junko Furuta, when I heard those male Japanese politicians laugh at raising the age of consent in pornography. There’s something wrong happening to my sisters out there.

I’m not a black woman but I feel a deep ugly pit in my stomach when I see the interviews of Sudanese women escaping rape and starvation in the desert. When I saw that video of Cassie Ventura running from Diddy in the hallway, when I hear her screams and know his power and influence protected him for so many years. When I see the family portraits of Sonya Massey and her children, and I know there can be no future ones ever created. There’s something wrong happening to my sisters.

I’m not a woman who is disabled. I’m not a woman in a domestically abused relationship. I’m not a prostituted woman. I’m not a trafficked woman. I’m not locked away right now. Everything that happened to me is in my past… I have freedom and autonomy now… I can just move on and forget about the worldwide phenomenon of female pain. But I know I can’t. There’s a terrible gnawing.

Growing up Muslim we always were taught that the Muslim nation is called the Ummah. The Ummah must operate as one body. I was taught many times that if anyone in the Ummah at any time is in pain, the body is restless, and can’t sleep… even the smallest prick of a finger can keep you wide awake, aware of the pain. They always said it like that, holding up a finger. Just, the smallest, prick.

There’s a sickness happening in the worldwide body of women, and it keeps me awake at night. There’s anger and defensiveness I feel when a woman is the butt of a mean joke. There’s bitter resentment I feel when I see men get special treatment that I know a woman would be crucified for. I feel anger so often. When I see little girls being stabbed in the news. When I see girls starving in Palestine. When I see girls forced to wear hijab and stay home in Afghanistan. Sudan. Yemen. Iran. Egypt. Honduras. Femicide. Rape. Forced birth. Menstrual huts. FGM. So many ugly words, so many tainted countries.

Sometimes I worry that too much anger might poison me over time…but what can I do about my sisters? There isn’t a finger prick upsetting my body, there’s gaping wounds, pulsing and bleeding out. I cant sleep like that… Sometimes I hold onto my body when I’m alone, with that sickening knowledge what while it does everything it possibly can to keep me alive and safe, women all over are suffering for having the same exact body. Sometimes I would hate my body in the past. Knowing that certain things only happened to me for the crime of having a female body. But now I hold onto it, grateful it keeps me alive and breathing, and I try to ignore that gnawing at the back of my mind while I try to sleep.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 23

Warnings: None

Two long stressful weeks had gone by and they still had not heard from the council. Two long weeks of complete utter distress for the wolves. Waiting around for an answer was nerve-wracking for them. None of them had any energy to focus or be happy. Minho had tried to push for an outcome but his friends told him they could not push anymore as the investigation went on. There were certain things they could not rush if they wanted to get it right, but if Minho or Jeongin had any more evidence that would help, the council would need it. This led to Minho having to bring Y/N to meet the council to give her statement on Ateez and her treatment. It was an uncomfortable conversation that needed to happen but the council were brutal as they probed for different invasive facts. She had to go through it twice on the same day with two separate council members. Y/N knew it was necessary but it was still traumatic for her. Even Hyunjin had to give an account on the same day. Still, all of these events happened two weeks ago and no outcome was made. It was upsetting even for Chan who spent countless nights going through different werewolf lore books, search engines, and paperwork to find a way of taking him down.

As the days went on the more uncertain the wolves felt. Changbin hadn't even gone to the gym for a week in fear that something would happen if he wasn't there. Minho didn't have the energy to cook properly and the wolves didn't have the energy to eat either. Jeongin also wasn't himself either. He too spent nights awake as he went through Y/N's notes trying to find another way if all else fails. He was getting highly stressed but he didn't want to keep asking Y/N questions in case she became worried, but it was too late. Y/N already knew. Y/N could feel it deep in the bottom of her stomach as she hugged her pillow, sniffing to herself in her bedroom all alone. Y/N knew they were not going to win. They were smarter and they were always ten steps ahead. Ateez knew everything about Chan, whether it was true or false they could make it true. Y/N hated this. Y/N needed to know the reality of it and the only one who was going to tell her was Hyunjin. He lived there with her and before her. He could provide a much better insight.

Y/N sighed and wiped her tears before heading to Hyunjin's room. She knew it was the middle of the night but she wanted to speak to him. She needed to so she made her way to his bedroom to knock on his door, but he had already opened it to allow her to walk into his room. He was sitting on his bed cross-legged waiting for her to come to him. "Come here little wolf. It's alright." Hyunjin called, beckoning her to sit on his bed so she did. She sat on his bed and fell into his arms crying. She didn't know why but she felt safe and familiar with him. She felt at home with him, despite her lack of memories, she felt loved. "I'm sorry," Y/N muttered as she wiped her tears, taking notice of his room. It was so modest but artistic. It didn't match their home at all. His room was a luxury contemporary room. Simple, yet it was him. "Hyunjin," Y/N whispered as she sat up, looking at the red-haired wolf. "What does Hongjoong have on Chan." "His uncle, his brother that died, his destruction of packs for an omega. He has a lot." Hyunjin whispered as he wiped her tears gently. He hated seeing her cry and it wasn't because she was an ugly crier, it was the fact she cried when she felt helpless. "It's not going to work is it?" Y/N whimpered. "I don't think so. In hindsight they're both as bad as each other, neither were nice to people at the beginning. Morally Chan is better. He cares about his wolves but his previous actions do not show that. Hongjoong only cares for power and doesn't care about his wolves, only Seonghwa. He loves Seonghwa." Hyunjin admitted as he stroked her hair lovingly. "What do we do? We have to win somehow!" Y/N stressed as she held his hand, playing with his veiny long fingers that wore a certain ring on his finger. "Did I give you this?" Y/N asked as she looked into his brown muddy eyes. "Hmm, you did." Hyunjin hummed as he brought his hands up to her face, brushing his thumb over his cheek. "We need to be patient. There is still time but we won't win with the council that is a fact, but we need to disarm them." "We remove the fucking circle," Y/N growled her eyes glowing blue. "Still a challenge. We would need a witch and that goes against Chan's morals. He likes to keep the peace between them. There might be a way to use his own weapon against him without using a witch but that means meddling with dark aura." Hyunjin explained causing Y/N to huff as she rested her head against his chest, breathing in his scent. This appeared to be more complicated than she thought. Hyunjin softly stroked her back, kissing her head gently before he leaned his head against hers, holding her close to him. Hyunjin was scared of letting her go, he hadn't held her in over four years and he wasn't prepared for her to leave him. Y/N lifted her head up presenting him with a small smile before she kissed him. It was an innocent kiss. One that was needed. It held so much love and care. It was a perfect kiss. "I should go check on Chan," Y/N murmured. "Yeah. You should." Hyunjin whispered as he kissed her once more before she headed to Chan who was still staring at his computer.

Chan had become fixated on protecting his pack with Jeongin. What Y/N hadn't expected was for Jeongin and Minho to be in Chan's office with a pile of books. "What is going on? Why are you all awake?" It was more of a rhetorical question but she still wanted an answer. "Channie, what has happened," Y/N asked as she pulled his hands away from his head so she could sit on his lap. Y/N pressed her forehead against his before she connected their lips. Chan kissed her back before he held her hands worriedly. "I'm sorry baby." Chan apologised, "I'm sorry because I might have to do something you're not going to like and I need you to be okay with it. I need you to know it's because I love you and there might not be another way." "What is going on?" Y/N asked, getting up slowly as she looked at the two wolves on the sofa. "Minho? Jeongin?" "The council find Chan more guilty than Hongjoong. Chan had broke several laws because he raided four werewolf packs and attacked several omegas. Who didn't die, but were harmed. Not only that Chan has two werewolves who have been cursed with dark aura." Minho spoke, his voice cold as he stared at the empty glass. "So?" Y/N asked. "If we continue this case. The council will disarm us and destroy us. Chan could be banished." Jeongin explained coldly. "Hyunjin is our liability that poses a problem. Apparently, he coerced you and brainwashed you into completing a ritual against Hongjoong, so in the eye of the council you are more in danger here than with Ateez." "That's bullshit." Y/N shoured. "Y/N." Minho warned, silencing her. "Y/N. Come here." Chan called but she wouldn't move. "Next week I am going to meet with a friend of mine of how we can take Ateez down or at least remove them. If it comes down to it, I might need to take Hongjoong out. I need you to be okay with that." "Why don't you ask Hyunjin to help you? He knows more. So do I. We don't need any more people involved." Y/N stressed. "Y/N." Minho warned again causing her to glare at him. "Be careful of your tone. We're doing our best so listen to Chan." "You don't even trust Hyunjin to help. You're keeping it from him." Y/N snarled. "Y/N!" "Fuck off, Minho, your not even an alpha," Y/N shouted. "Y/N." Chan shouted, hitting the table, and making her jump slightly. "Do not speak to him like that. He is your beta. He is an elder and knows much more than you. You are only an omega. No your place." Y/N stood there and scoffed. Only an omega, huh? That's low. She couldn't believe he said that. "Only an omega." Y/N laughed, "I know more about Hongjoong than you, but go ahead. Fuck it all up. He will KILL YOU!" Y/N left the room, slamming the door before walking into Chan's room to throw his paperwork all over the floor before stomping on it. Fucking idiots.

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[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hc for Halsin, Astarion, Will, Gortash, (& maybe Damon and Raphael) caring for a loved one with chronic illness or like an illness that keeps them bedbound for an extended time

A/N: Oh Nonnie, do I feel this ask lol. Chronic fatigue sucks, mainly because so few people don’t understand it goes beyond being just ‘tired’. There’s brain fog, stomach issues, and body pains– so I tried to touch on each of these symptom types for each character response. However you’re doing, whether you’re in a flare or not, I want you to know your illness is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. Don’t feel guilty for having to take care of yourself. You’re worth it. I promise. 

Also, this is unrelated but it’s lowkey funny that the week after I got diagnosed with a weird anemia, I write an answer for an ask about chronic fatigue. lol

TW: Mention of Chronic Fatigue/Pain, Brief Mentions of Sex 

🤕 BG3 Men Caring for a Gender Neutral! Loved One With Chronic Illness 🤕

Astarion: 

Worries. Like A LOT.

Tells you not to be so dramatic about it but will literally sprint towards you if he even hears you sigh.

He asks Karlach to carry you. 

Steals somebody’s cart/chariot if she refuses and instead makes her and Shadowheart take turns pulling that. (Jokes on him, they do it because they’re your friend, not his lol.) 

Has you come on missions because he feels more secure knowing you’re right behind him, and he can keep looking after you. Astarion makes sure to always sneak ahead so you never walk unknowingly into any danger 

Will give you massages if you’re in pain frequently, especially shoulder rubs, as he loves the view it gives him of your pretty neck. 

Speaking of necks, feeding is a huge no-no. At least, until you start feeling a bit better. And then he’ll only allow himself a taste. Gods knows you need all your strength, and he would feel terribly guilty to take what little you have from you. 

Lowkey appreciates the bags under your eyes and the way you can look like death incarnate, because well, then he doesn’t stand out as much. He also finds it strangely alluring, how you can look so fragile yet be so strong. It inspires him to find that balance within himself if he’s being honest. 

If you have trouble ‘performing’ due to your illness, he’s not upset at all! (He’s actually quite relieved.) 

Loves finding other ways you can be intimate together, like going to a spa and sharing a bath. Or finding a highly-rated inn and cuddling under some luxurious silk sheets. 

Turns out that after a lifetime of being forced to do things, Astarions is more than happy to spend his time doing nothing with you. 

Wyll: 

Is so sweet and tender when he speaks to you.

He’s literally Prince Charming, which makes you his Sleeping Beauty. 

On your good days, he’ll have you stand on his feet as he twirls you around, finding this the best way to ‘dance’ with you, given your current stamina. 

Requests for you to stay back at camp and rest while he and a few of the others handle the more taxing and dangerous missions. Gifts you some books and journals of his to keep you occupied in the meantime.

When he comes back to camp, the first thing he does is check on you. If you’re awake, he’ll make sure your needs are met before tending to his own. Doesn’t matter if Wyll’s starving and covered in guts, if you need a drink or an extra blanket, just say the word and he will fetch it immediately.  

Will recite poetry to you on the bad pain nights when you cannot sleep because everything aches too much. He knows his voice won’t stop the pain, but he hopes it provides a soothing atmosphere to just rest in, even if sleep cannot find you.

Is always so tender and gentle in his lovemaking, that it’s rarely an issue for you. However, on the nights that it is, don’t feel bad at all. Wyll adores you for much more than your body. He loves your mind, your heart, and your soul. Just being near you, knowing you love him back is more than enough. 

Halsin: 

Is always prepared with some medicinal herbs or a healing spell. 

He’s a natural caretaker, and you are no exception. However, when it comes to you, Halsin does approach the act a little bit differently. 

It’s much more personal when he makes you health potions or casts spells to heal you, you can see it in his eyes. In a way, it’s as if your pain has become his pain, and he needs the relief just as much as you. 

As long as you give your consent, Halsin prefers to have you touching him. Be it laying on top of his chest, or seated on his lap, he always wants his skin against yours, as if his touch alone could shield you from your illness. You find it rather sweet of him.

He pleads for you to stay behind in camp, or the grove- somewhere that is not the center of the action. He wishes for you to remain out of the fray, fearful that in your condition, fighters with less honor than he would take advantage of your vulnerability. 

If you need to be in a house with a room, and not camped out in the woods, he understands, although it may frustrate him a bit. He believes nature is the perfect healing environment, but he also trusts that you know your illness better than anyone. After all, you’ve managed it all these years. So instead, he simply brings nature to you. 

Haslin decorates your bedroom with plants, trees, and succulents. If you’re allergic, he enchants them to reduce their pollen production. 

Halsin understands he is rather large in the ‘down there’ department. If you cannot have traditional sex with him, it’s not a surprise to him. He knows more than one way to please his partner. He’s very giving and seems to get off on your pleasure more than his own at times. 

Halsin thinks you are one of the most beautiful gifts of nature. Your illness is just another part of you, and because it’s a part of you, he thinks it’s beautiful as well. You may resent it, but Halsin could never separate that part from you and hate it. He simply loves the whole of you too much to do that. 

Dammon:

Oh my god, he’s such a sweetheart.

But also a low-key tease. 

He has no issues getting or reaching things for you, but he does have a mischievous side, so be prepared for him to hold your things hostage, in exchange for a kiss or two. 

Has a habit of finding you curled up in bed on your worst pain/fatigue days and peppering you with kisses, and won’t stop until you laugh. 

Forges special mobility aids! Do you need help walking? Pfft. Not a problem. Dammon’s an incredible blacksmith, and he can make you armor that helps stabilize you. You know those really cool joint support braces you can get on Etsy and stuff? Yeah, he makes you DOZENS of them, all in different metals and designs, to match your mood/outfit for the day. 

While on the road, or in the grove, he always ensures you’re armed with some sort of easily gripped knife or sword, just in case anyone attacks. He does his best to keep you close, never walking too far ahead or behind, but you having that extra layer of protection makes him feel all the more reassured. 

He's not a fighter, but years of working in the forge have made his arms and back strong. He swears he will do everything he can to protect you, that no harm will come to you so long as you stay close. 

Is so relieved when you make it to the city at last. He’s so grateful that he can finally provide a real room and bed for you. He feels as if the entire journey has been worth it now that you’ll be able to rest and heal as you need, in the kind of safe and stable conditions you deserve.  

Comes in from a long, sweaty day of working in the forge, but immediately sets his sights on taking care of you. Draws a bath but insists you bathe first, as the water won’t be full of grime and ash after he bathes. 

Is always surprised and very flattered when you tug him in with you, still touched by your affection for him, as if you’ve just met for the first time. Dammon’s still a little shocked that out of everyone, you chose him. (Ironically, you feel the same. You’re a perfect match!) 

Insists on taking the lead during more intimate moments, and to make sure you just lay back and let him do all the work, introduces soft silk ties for your hands and ankles for whenever you feel like indulging in that kink with him. 

Gortash: 

Spoils you rotten. 

No, really.

Part of the highlight of being a Lord, soon-to-be Duke, is that he has the power to make all the other people do things for him. And no task is too costly or requires too much manpower so long as it means you’re taken care of. 

Buys the most lavish sheets and sleep sets for you. He wants you to be comfortable, the both of you deserve nothing but the best, after all. 

Assigns around-the-clock healers to you 24/7. They are always in your home, on-call, awaiting your request for relief. He wants every measure of treatment and remedy explored. If there’s a spell or herb that can reduce your pain, then you shall have it. 

Enjoys any downtime he has with you. Has his staff put a special chaise lounge in his office so you can visit him when he’s working. 

Gortash is so used to putting up fronts for everyone else, that it’s nice to let his guard down around you. You don’t judge him, or think less of him for his ambitions. Other people would run if they learned the truth, but not you. No, you’re so much more special than that. 

Of course, whenever you go out, you have your own guards and steel watch keeping you safe from anyone who’d wish to harm either you or him. All the other Lords and Ladies of Baldur’s Gate don’t dare say a mean word about you or your abilities, lest they wish to face the wrath of a peeved Gortash. 

As an inventor, Gortash invents the very first automatic, steampunk-esque wheelchair for you. It’s powered in the same way his Steel Watch is, and it is uniquely one-of-a-kind, tailor-made just for you. 

You know how in the game it’s hinted that Gortash basically stole and fucked his way into the high society of Baldur’s Gate? That many of the widowed Ladies gifted him lavish presents (like the deeds to their house?!) in response to whatever ‘relationship’ he had with them? Yeah. The man knows what he’s doing. And he does it well.

Your fitness level is no concern to him. The both of you will enjoy yourselves. He learns how to play the erogenous zones of your body perfectly, and in the event you’re too exhausted to play his, he has some, shall we say, special toys, he’s created just for himself. Course, should you ever ask, he’s more than willing to share them with you. ;)

Raphael: 

Switches between pampering you to badgering you about it.

When he’s feeling particularly generous, he makes a point to overindulge you, making sure you’re aware of how unselfish he’s being at the time. 

He’ll make sure you have not only whatever you need, but also, anything you should want. As a devil, he does have some magic up his sleeve, ready to take care of various aches and pains that you feel. 

Ensures no other beings in the House of Hope lay a finger on you. No, that’s a privilege for him and him alone. 

Of course, such benevolence from him comes at a price, so don’t expect the luxury to come freely, without strings attached. 

After he feels you’ve rested enough, he switches from being overly doting to being more curt, and even a bit cruel. 

You honestly don’t expect him to let you lounge all day, do you? Surely there’s a way you could make yourself useful to him. Your attention, your company, your body… there must be something of interest to him at the moment. Of course, Raphael won’t tell you outright what he wants, you have to figure it out for yourself each and every time. 

More than anything Raphael loves your adoration, your attention. Just sit with him in his office as he reads over the various contracts he has binding any number of sorry souls. Ask him questions, praise him. Tell him you think he’s brilliant… Darling just worship him. 

And after his ego’s been satisfied, he’ll go back to worshiping you. Relationships are all give and take after all. 

(And don’t worry if you’re too tired or in too much pain to perform well in bed. He’s certainly no good at it either lol.)

[captain039]

Daddy’s Little Girl

Logan x reader

Warnings: Age gap (early twenties reader) , swearing, first times, virgin reader, plus size reader, tension, oral f receiving, smut, daddy kink, dom!logan, Abuse, verbal and mental (Not from Logan), anxiety, depression, mention of self harm scars, reader has muscle issues and body pain

Kinda hitting home with personal:specific details for reader, but alas I need this man, I need this man bad 😂

Wolverine in the mountains as a Lumberjack is a wet dream

Set when Logan was in the mountains but modern day times

You awake to a loud knock and a grumbled hurry up making you sigh. You check your phone finding no overly important messages. You’re expecting a call from your sister this week sometime though. You miss her, she was Lucky enough to get out of this hell hole while she could. You dress quickly knowing your father will get pissed if he doesn’t see you in the truck in five minutes. You get your jeans on and a shirt before grabbing your boots and phone. You go down the stairs slowly, ignoring the way your hips protests. You grab a banana and shove your boots on before heading to the truck. Your dad waits, smoking in the drivers seat making you sigh silently inside as you jump into the passenger seat. Everyday he drags you out to the lumber mill, everyday he doesn’t give a damn if you need to see a doctor or therapist. Doesn’t care that he’s seen scars on your arms or that you cry most nights. You pretty much run this lumber mill even if your dads the boss, you keep track of the finances, locations, next sights, shipments whatever needs done that he can’t be bothered to do, all he does is swing an axe and let his anger out. Only good thing is Logan. Logan the man you crush on since he first started couple years ago. His perfect hair and smile, those jeans and leather jacket, the way he carry’s himself. His kindness towards you, the stupid hair ruffle he gives even though he knows you hate it, the making sure you’ve eaten during the day or asking if you need help. He’s too perfect, a goddamn dream and you’re a nightmare.

You head into the small trailer office and sit down rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your father greets his team. He smiles shakes hands and laughs making you loath him. You want to punch him, show them how pissed he gets and how fucking useless he is. You sag against the chair waiting for Logan to show up in his two seater low truck with that handsome face. You hate yourself, lusting after man twice your age, probably married or has plenty suitors. Ones that aren’t broken like you. You clench your jaw and unlock the computer cursing the slow wifi as you go through emails. It’s the same old and you’re bored of it, hell you don’t even get paid to be here your father says his house and his food are payment enough, not like you’re his kid or anything. You watch your dad and his team leave silently thanking god. Though a little upset you missed Logan. A knock comes at the door and you frown a bit.

“Come in” you call watching the door open. Logan steps in a smile on his face as he closes the door.

“Morning Bub” he says and you smile.

“Morning” you reply as he sighs and sits down on the small couch.

“Why aren’t you with the team?” You ask with a frown.

“We need supplies, your father told me to head into town” he said and you sigh, of course he did, too lazy to go himself.

“Wanna come?” Logan asks and you falter.

“Oh, yeah sure hang on” you quickly finish writing the email before logging off and shutting the computer down. You follow him out the trailer and to his car he smiles playfully as he holds open the door for you which you just laugh at and ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You try not to glance at him every five seconds as he drives. How someone can be attractive while driving you’ll never know. It’s about an hours drive into town, the silence comfortable. You look out the window letting the wind blow in your face. Your phone buzzes and you frown taking it out seeing a message from your father.

We need more courier trucks this time, don’t forget

You huff softly, how could you forget he’s yelled it to you for the last couple of days.

“Everything alright?” Logan asks jolting you from your mind and you force a smile and nod.

“Just dad” you shrug switching off your phone and putting it back in your pocket. You finally arrive at the store following Logan inside.

“What we need?” You ask as Logan pulls a list from his pocket.

“Rope, saw blade replacers, chain, sharpener stones, beer” Logan smiles at the last part and you try to smile back. Beer always equals your father coming home shit faced and blaming it on you like you’re the one who got him drunk. You grab a trolly each and head down each aisle to get what you need before heading to the register. You scan the items watching the numbers go up and know you’ll probably get blamed for the prices too. Once you’re done Logan grabs his wallet and pulls out the company card before tapping and paying. You enjoy his closeness smell the cologne he’s got on this close too. You wait for the receipt before heading back to the Ute. You make one more stop to the liquor store before heading home.

You’re not even half way home when your phone rings. With your dad’s name flashing, you wince a little and answer.

“Hello” you say.

“Why aren’t you answering the phone at the trailer?” He says annoyed.

“I went with Logan to get the supplies you needed” you answer.

“Jesus Christ I give you one goddamn job and you can’t even do that right! You know not to leave that goddamn trailer during work hours!” His voice is scolding and pissed and you tense and try to ignore your stomach churning.

“We’re heading back now” you muttered not getting an answer back instead your father hangs up and you feel like crying.

“You alright?” Logan asks and you force a smile and nod at him.

Back at the trailer you notice your hips beginning to ache helping carrying things from the ute back to the trailer. You wince and silently curse knowing it’ll probably either be a flare up and another reason for your dad to yell or hopefully just some daily pain that Panadol can fix. It’s always the fucking first one. You sit down behind your desk and ring back anybody who tried to contact the office while Logan works outside. You glance to him every so often seeing him push his sleeves up, wipe sweat off his brow, a whole damn strip tease. You wish you had confidence or were thinner and older maybe then he’d give you a glance. You sag into the chair wincing when your hips decided to twinge in pain.

It’s just after five when the team return, you’ve hopefully done everything today and you’re feeling it. Logan hasn’t left either only to stop on break for lunch or smoke the cigars he has. You tried to tell him they’re bad for him but he just smiled and continued. Your dad looks annoyed and you can feel the home ride scolding already.

“All done?” Logan says suddenly making you jump not realising he was in the trailer. You jolt the wrong way and let out a pain of noise that has the man instantly concerned and walking over.

“Fine, I’m fine sorry I didn’t mean to make that noise” you brush off cursing when you can’t even stand up properly.

“You don’t look fine Bub” he says quietly.

“Ready?” Your dad interrupts and you nod forcing yourself up right. You walk a little funny out the trailer and down the steps.

“Bye Logan” your dad says.

“See ya boss” he says before saying a goodbye to you with a small worried frown. You smile and wave getting into your dad’s truck awkwardly.

“What the hell did I say with leaving without my permission? I had two damn phone calls while I was out!” Your dad scolds hitting the steering wheel in annoyance making you jump. You keep your head down and on your lap making sure not to move.

“Well?!” He snaps.

“Sorry, I figured Logan would need some help with supplies” you say and your father scoffs.

“Logan needs help my ass, you’re just trying to slut yourself out to the man!” He growls and the words sting. You’ve never had a boyfriend, never spoken to another man in that way.

“Like you did with Jason” he adds. Jason was the newest addition to the team a little older than you.

“Sorry father” you mutter.

“God sakes” he grumbles. He doesn’t say anything else and when you get home you know he’ll scold you for dinner before ordering pizza and beer. You head upstairs silently feeling tears prick your eyes before you force them down.

“Can I have a shower dad?” You call.

“Five minutes! Anymore I’m breaking the goddamn water line” he yells and you wince and hurry. You set a timer knowing he won’t be joking. You wash as quickly as you can before stepping out and drying yourself. You sigh not even feeling clean or refreshed. You barely have time to shave when you shower, barely have time to wash your hair too. You dress hearing your dad talking to the pizza man no doubt before he slams the door. You say into your bed, only reason you have your furniture and room nice is because your mother was still alive at one point. You hear your phone vibrate and see Logan’s name on the screen. You had all the team’s numbers in your phone for emergencies or anything company related. Your father shamed you for that too saying you’d send each man nudes or sex texts.

Hey kid, you alright?

Fine, thank you, nothing to worry about

you type back quickly and get dressed into some pyjamas. You’re tired but no sleep won’t come well and you’ll have to eat when your dad’s either passed out or asleep. You wait a while scrolling on your phone. When your mum was alive she got you a bank account open, you had to secretly apply for a government payment grant so you could at least get a phone and credit. If your dad ever found out about the money though he’d probably close the account or take what you had. Your phone buzzes continuously and you frown seeing Logan’s name. You answer a little confused he never calls unless it’s for work.

“Hey? Did you need something?” You ask voice hushed even though the TVs turned up loudly.

“Just checking on you, you sure you’re alright kid?” You a sigh a little, that stupid nickname.

“I’m fine thank you Logan” you say a little curtly without meaning too.

“Did you need something, did I miss something at work?” You add after some silence.

“No, works fine” he sighs a little and you frown. You hear footsteps and begin to panic.

“Sorry Logan I have to go” you hear him about to speak but quickly hang up as your father’s footsteps walk past and into his room and you sigh in relief.

You lay there awake till it’s about 8, hearing loud snores before you creep down stairs to get a sandwich and water before going back up. You sigh eating on the small couch in your room glancing to your phone seeing another text from Logan.

Night kid, sleep well

Your heart jumps a little.

Next part ->

[mattitties]

Can you please do one where the reader dreams that Matt’s cheating and she founds out because he posts the other girl on his Instagram…So after she’s awake she’s upset and tells real Matt about her dream. Matt just cuddle her and says his sorry even tho his not dream Matt and then he orders to the house white roses for her (the note from the flowers should say something like “dream Matt it’s an idiot and I’m deeply sorry about that bae…I love you”

🥹

Bad dream - matt sturniolo

“I’m so, so sorry. It was such a mistake but I swear to God it’ll never happen again,” he pleads. “I love you so much baby, please.”

All I can do is cry. I’ve never felt so fucking betrayed in my life. We’ve been together for over a year, we’ve talked about kids and marriage and the rest of our lives together, and he didn’t even care enough. He ended it all with one stupid night. 

“You don’t care about me. You don’t love me,” I sob. “I hate you! Get the fuck out!”

He opens his mouth to say something but ultimately decides against it. I watch as he opens the door to my apartment, turns around to look at me for the last time, and leaves.

I suck in a breath as I jolt awake. My heart is pounding, and my face is wet with tears. I turn my head and see my boyfriend, Matt, sleeping soundly next to me. It was just a dream. He would never cheat on me. I know he wouldn’t. I have never had an ounce of distrust in him, but that dream just felt so real that my anxiety won’t come down. 

I quietly get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, turning on the sink so he won’t hear my sobs. I don’t even know why I’m crying; it was a dream. It was fake. He’s literally in the room right next to me, and he never fails to prove his love to me. But there’s this annoying little voice in the back of my head screaming “What if? What if?” and it won’t shut off. 

After a few minutes of crying and trying to keep my anxiety at bay, I go back to his room and lay down next to him, but there’s just no way I’ll be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, so I pull out my phone and start silently scrolling through TikTok.

The brightness of my phone must have woken him up despite it being all the way down. “Baby?” he says, wrapping his arm around my stomach. “Why are you up?”

“Just can’t sleep. I’m sorry, go back to bed,” I say, pushing his hair out of his eyes and trying to hide my tear-covered face. But of course, he notices. He always notices.

“What’s wrong? Were you crying?” he sits up and wipes my tears, which only makes me start crying harder. “Shhhh,” he consoles, pulling me into him. “What happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid. Tell me.”

I take a breath. “I just had a dream. And it made me anxious and sad. That’s it.”

“What was the dream?” he urges softly. 

“You just… you cheated on me. And it was so bad because I’ve been cheated on before and it was so humiliating and it made me so upset and I just thought you’d never do that to me and I know you wouldn’t but–”

“Baby, baby, slow down,” he tilts my head so I can look up at him. “I love you. So much. And I would never, ever, ever cheat on you. You’re it for me. Okay? Dream Matt is such a fucking idiot but real Matt, the one right here, is not. I mean, I can be sometimes, but definitely not enough to cheat on you.” 

I nod and give him a little smile. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re fine baby. I love you, okay?” he says softly before kissing me in a way that reminds me just how much he really does love me. “Go to sleep baby, I’m right here.”

I wake up the next morning in the same position we fell asleep in. I check my phone and see that it’s only 10 AM and Matt won’t be awake for at least another 3 hours, so I quietly dip out to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I always check the front door when I wake up to see if there’s any mail, and today I almost miss the large bouquet of white roses I see sitting on our front stoop. 

I pick them up and take them inside, extremely confused and slightly concerned that a fan found our address and sent roses to one of the boys. I set the vase down on the kitchen table and read the note attached.

I’m sorry dream Matt is so stupid, but your real Matt adores you and would do anything to make you happy. Dinner tonight at 7 as an apology? Love, your wonderful loving boyfriend ;)

I just about curl into a ball and start sobbing right there. How did I get so lucky?

I head back to our room and snuggle back into him, kissing his cheek softly.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, still half asleep. 

“I love you,” I whisper. “When did you order the roses?”

“I love you too, baby. Last night after you fell back asleep,” he replies, his eyes still closed and his groggy morning voice evident. 

I give him one last kiss as a thank you before we fall asleep for the rest of the morning.

[malgomy]

new wave dreams

Malleus smiles. You know this smile. In all your time with him, you’ve become intimately familiar with his different smiles. This smile, you fear, spells your doom.

This smile is smug.

“I recall Grim whining about spilled milk on his fur,” he hums, expression deceivingly serene. “Just before he went to sleep, he was telling me about how you have to clean up yet another mess and how dreadfully clumsy his henchhuman is.”

Oh that snitch.

or;

You're clumsy, Ramshackle has outdated appliances, and Grim is incapable of keeping house secrets.

tags: 2.7k words, cross-posted on ao3 under the same name and the same alias. this is my first work on here cries have mercy on me when it comes to formatting, ok. title is from P.U.N.K. Girl by Heavenly

You have a problem.

An issue, a predicament, a conundrum, even.

See, you’ve developed a bit of a … bad habit. Grim is a very deep sleeper and ever since you’ve been thrown into Twisted Wonderland, you are decidedly not. Whether it be unnerving dreams that wake you up or just plain insomnia, you’ve spent many a night kept awake with only Grim’s incessant snoring to keep you company.

And well… it’s not like your stomach stops working either. So maybe it’s not uncommon for you to sneak down into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, and maybe it’s not uncommon for you to sneak back into your comfortable bed and eat while under the covers. Maybe. 

You’re so used to the sound of boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen in Ramshackle that the dead of night just makes it… eery. Not to mention, the ghosts who live in the dorm have no sense of when is a good or bad time to play a silly little prank on you. Is it really so bad to want the comfort of a wall against your back and blankets trapping your warmth while you enjoy a home cooked meal? 

It’s just that… your hand might have slipped while crawling into bed and you might have spilled your cereal all over your bed while Grim was still sleeping in it. Oops. 

This is where your predicament lies. Grim is now partially awake, bleary eyed and upset at having been woken up at 2 am. Your sheets, comforter, and pajamas reek of milk. Class is at 9 am sharp, and if you leave things the way they are, you have no doubt that your room will reek of spoiled milk.

Which would be fixable, except for the fact that your biggest issue is that Ramshackle doesn’t have a laundry room.

Or… well… it does. Technically. Except you may have smacked the washing machine a little bit too hard to get it started once, and it hasn’t turned on ever since. You’ve been doing your laundry in Heartslaybul with either Ace or Deuce accompanying you ever since.

But that is definitely not an option right now! Let alone the fact that Riddle would undoubtedly take your head if you snuck around and did laundry in his dorm at 2 am, you know for a fact that Ace would have a field day if he found out why your sheets were soaked with milk at this time of night. No, Heartslaybul is certainly not an option.

Which leaves… no options at all. You suppose you could just use the kitchen sink… or maybe the bathtub? 

“I’m not cleaning this,” Grim grumbles. He’s rubbing his eyes and lets out a big yawn. Despite his insistence, he really is more catlike than anything else you’ve ever seen. When he looks up at you with his big blue eyes, you can’t help but forget how annoying he can be. Aw, now you feel bad. 

“I wasn’t gonna make you, d’worry,” you mumble back. There’s no other option, you suppose. You begin peeling the sheets off the bed. It’s heavy, and it doesn’t help that your movements have a certain grogginess to them. Just your luck, you’re starting to get tired after you already made a mess. “I’m gonna head downstairs to clean this, you go back to sleep.”

Grim doesn’t respond to you, so you assume that he nodded off even without your prompting. When you make it downstairs though, you almost trip over him running right past you.

“We’ve got a visitor!” 

You almost drop your clothes to rush over to the window. From your spot in the lounge, you can’t make out what Grim is seeing. “Huh? Who?” 

“Who else visits ‘n the middle of the night?” 

The clothes are unceremoniously dumped in the sink and you rush to the window. Sure enough, green sparks fly around a familiar silhouette underneath your porch.

Talk about bad timing. “I can’t just leave him out there, can I?” 

Grim just shrugs up at you. Ugh, your bleeding heart. How could you leave a friend out in the cold when he came all the way just to see you? The ghosts would scold you for even entertaining the thought. 

With strengthened resolve, you glance out the window one more time. Sure enough, Malleus is still standing on your porch. He’s staring intently at the doorknob, but as soon as you move the blinds, his eyes meet yours. 

You don’t even give him the opportunity to knock.

“And what are you doing out here, unsupervised in the dead of night?” You say in lieu of a greeting. You grin up at him and open the door wide as an invitation to come in. Malleus slips into the foyer, but not without dramatics of his own.

“Might it be that I’m unwelcome into your humble abode?” He sighs, forlorn and melancholic. You’d almost believe that he was hurt, if not for the fond smile he gives to you and Grim and the airiness of his voice. “I suppose I ought to make myself scarce, and hope the loneliness of my dearest friend’s rejection doesn’t take my weary heart.”

“We can’t have you dying yet, now can we? Your retainers would have my head, I fear.” You flick the lights on, and lead the way further in. “Not to mention your family — I can’t have an army sent after me at my delicate age.”

“Oho! So all you care about is your own life? Careful, should you offend me too much, I may very well send the armed guards after you regardless.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics. He’s too attached to you to do anything of the sort. “You’re welcome anytime, just make sure you leave your retainers a note or something.”

“That one guy’s too noisy when he doesn’t know where you are,” Grim grumbles. 

“They should know very well by now to check for me here before breaking out into a frenzy,” Malleus breaks out into a grin, self-satisfied. “I am no babe; they haven’t a reason to fret over me so often.”

Grim lets out a little hmph! at that. “Betcha they're more worried ‘bout what you’re getting up to, going out at night all sneaky-like.”

You all pause for a moment at Grim’s statement. “Y’know Grim, it’s very rare that you say something smart.”

It takes a moment for what you say to process. Grim goes from smiling to attacking your leg in the blink of an eye. 

“Hm, that very well may be it then,” When you glance up at Malleus, all you can describe his expression as is preening. “I trust that your word will be a suitable alibi then, should they assume that I’m up to mischief?”

“Oh I doubt it, with what we’re always up to? They’ll probably assume the worst as soon as you say my name.” A light hum is all that you get in response. Typical, Malleus tends to zone in and out of conversation. You lead him to the lounge with Grim still hanging off your leg, flicking lights on and fixing things up as you go. Everyone’s awake now, so there's no need to go traipsing through the dark. Besides, Malleus’ eyes seem to glow like a cats in the dark, and you don’t feel like going through that heart attack right now.

Malleus sits by the unlit fireplace, picking up a random book from the coffee table. Grim stays behind with him while you take a moment to head into the kitchen, ignoring the pile of sheets you dumped in there in order to grab some fruits. The living arrangements may be poor and decrepit, but never let it be said that you weren’t a good host. When you make it back, the fireplace is lit, and Grim is curled up in front of it. “He asleep?”

Malleus nods. His gaze washes over the fruits before settling on your face. “For me?”

“They’re chilled, but I think I remember you saying you liked ‘em better that way.”

He reaches out for a grape, plucking it from the vine with a delicate hand. He’s just about to pop it into his mouth when he pauses for a moment. “Ah.”

“What?”

“I’m not supposed to eat anything my retainers haven’t cleared first,” he sighs. “Poisoning and the like, you understand.”

You nod in understanding. You’ve never had Malleus decline anything you offered him before, but…

Wait a minute. He’s laughing. 

“That is not true!” You dump the fruits on his lap, leaving him to place them delicately on the table. Malleus hums in amusement as you settle into place by his side. “I can’t tell when you’re joking, it’s not fair.”

“No poison you could get your hands on could harm me,” he says. “Let alone anything you could disguise with the taste of fruit.”

You think he’s joking. Malleus doesn’t force you to respond, content to nurse through the fruit in front of him. He alternates between giving you a handful of berries and popping them into his own mouth.

“Why was Grim awake at this hour? I seem to recall him to be a heavy sleeper, if nothing else,” Malleus murmurs out the question, like it’s not important enough to be articulated properly.

But it is. Because this is embarrassing. There is no way that you are going to reveal to the crown prince of any nation that you spilled cereal all over your bed while Grim was sleeping in it! Not even if you were tortured. 

“Oh! I think he ate the leftover tart from Riddle’s unbirthday party,” you laugh, like a liar. “You know how it is, sugar highs and all that.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,”  you nod. “Must’ve worn off by the time you got here.”

Malleus smiles. You know this smile. In all your time with him, you’ve become intimately familiar with his different smiles. This smile, you fear, spells your doom.

This smile is smug.

“I recall Grim whining about spilled milk on his fur,” he hums, expression deceivingly serene. “Just before he went to sleep, he was telling me about how you have to clean up yet another mess and how dreadfully clumsy his henchhuman is.”

Oh that snitch. 

“It’s not important,” you rush to reassure Malleus. You wave a hand dismissively, hopefully putting an end to the subject matter. “Grim must’ve just been yapping, you know how he is.”

Before you can even process it, Malleus grabs your hand with both of his. Shocked but not uncomfortable, you don’t deign to snatch your hand back. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say he even looks earnest. “I would be willing to lend you my aid no matter the situation, whether the problem be big or small.”

You can’t stand to look him in the eye like this. “It’s really not that serious.”

“Tell me what is troubling you, I will have it dealt with.”

… ominous. His grip on your hands is loose, his palms warm and dry. If you don’t catch yourself, you might start to lean into him. 

Also… isn’t Malleus… a dorm leader? With access to his dorm’s laundry room? Really, maybe his late night arrival was just the solution to your self inflicted problems. Is it even taking advantage of the situation if he asked you?

With strengthened resolve, you lean in conspiratorially. “Nothing I tell you can leave this room.”

---

As it turns out, Malleus does technically have access to his dorm’s laundry room. Technically.

He just doesn’t know where it is.

“Hornton, aren’t you in your third year?” 

“I’m well aware,” he shoots you a look. Man alive, is he pouting? “I just rarely have a reason to come do laundry myself.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. Roaming Diasomnia’s halls in the wee hours of the morning with a trash bag over your shoulder filled with milk soaked sheets was never on your bucket list, but at least you have company! Even if the walls are tall and cold, Malleus is like a heater by your side. “We’ll find it together.”

The two of you, notably, do not find it together. 

In your defense, Diasomnia is big. Malleus might know his way around these halls, but you are notorious for your horrible sense of direction. Seriously, you might as well be in a corn maze. 

By the time you’ve scoured what you think is the entirety of the upper levels of Diasomnia, you’re about ready to throw in the towel. Far be it from you to ignore the sweet call of sleep. 

“Malleus, I think we should just leave it,” you murmur. “With the way things are, I’ll be ok sleeping on the ground.”

You would not be fine on the ground, actually. But you are nothing if not a liar and exhausted.

“I suppose we should check the basement before we give up,” he hums.

…

You do not want to check the basement. The apprehension must show on your face, because all Malleus does is laugh. This man laughs at you. 

“Worry not,” he breathes out between chuckles, “I won’t let any harm befall you.”

How comforting.

The door to Diasomnia’s basement is just like the rest of the dorm: cold and tall and imposing. When Malleus reaches out to open it, the door creaks open itself. Creepy.

“Can I let you go down by yourself and I stay up here with the living?” 

Malleus casts you a sidelong glance. “The safest place is by my side.”

You can’t even respond, snarky or otherwise, because he’s not wrong. 

“You go first,” you pat his arm. That way, if anything jumps out at you, he’ll get the brunt of the attack. “I’ll be right behind you.”

When Malleus takes the first step, you think you can hear an ominous thudding. But that’s probably just the paranoia speaking. 

Your descent down the stairs is marked by you cowering behind Malleus and jumping every time you think you feel something ghosting over your shoulders. On the bright side, the basement seems to be well lit with torches. 

When you make it to the bottom, you take a moment to examine your surroundings. It’s an open room, marked with chairs and a stack of baskets lined up against one wall. Along the opposite wall, however, stands the prize that you’ve been searching for all this time. Your long lost lover… 

A row of washing machines.

“Oh finally!” 

You don’t hesitate to run over to the first washing machine you see, tossing the trash bag you’ve been carrying over your shoulder onto the ground as you shed tears of relief. Not literally though, because you can only stand to embarrass yourself so many times in one night. 

Malleus hovers behind you while you punch in the code for the rinse cycle and load the machine. He offers to help, but drops it when you almost bite his hand. No way are you letting him in close proximity to your dirty laundry. Once you’ve finished loading everything up and have slammed the lid to the machine shut, you get up to face him again.

“Well Malleus, I think we did good here today,” you nod, satisfied with the outcome of your journey. “I’m glad we could discover the location of Diasomnia’s laundry room together.”

“Dismissing me already? Humans can be so cruel,” he offers his hand to you, leading you to the seats on the other side of the room. “I believe you still have quite some time left before this load is finished.”

“Don’t remind me,” you whisper. As soon as your back hits the chair, you’re slumped over. It doesn’t help that Malleus is so warm next to you. “I’m exhausted.”

Malleus hums. “Then rest. I’ll wake you when the time comes.”

---

You wake up to your alarm sprawled over Ramshackle’s couch, a gray quilt tucking you so tightly you almost fall off the couch trying to get out of it. 

On the table next to you are your clean folded sheets and a note. 

Thank you for the company last night… I enjoy our time together greatly. I suppose the time to wake you never came. Apologies. 

You don’t think he’s very sorry at all.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Reaction to mc saying she's pregnant? Like they had NO idea. It's their child, maybe she hide it with magic or something and they generally couldn't tell, if that is okay! It's okay if not,

I just think it's a cute conecpt, like just pretend barbs doesn't look into the future,

Again it's okay is not! No pressure,

Wolf !

Hi, wolf! Of course it's okay! I hope you like it

they find out mc is pregnant after hiding it

-> brothers and side characters x mc (no luke)

mc's gender is not mentioned, but is pregnant, not proof read (somebody lmk if the tag is wrong)

content warnings: pregnancy, mild angst

-----

Lucifer

he's a little offended (??) hurt (??) that you hid it from him, were you afraid of his reaction or was he scary?

regardless, lucifer loves both you and the child to death from the moment he finds out they exist

he's going to take great care of you (though he might come off as a little overprotective)

if you are standing up for a minute too long he will let you sit down

Mammon

oh no, you were play fighting just yesterday, did he accidentally hurt you or the baby?

when those worries ebb away, mammon is so happy he's telling everyone at rad about it

yes he's sad you hid it for a long time but the happiness is way stronger than the hurt

'mc I'm gonna go to the mall to get baby's first gold bar' 'mammon the baby isn't even born yet-'

Leviathan

of course you hid it for a long time, imagine you're the child and you find out your dad is a gross otaku

you're gonna have to calm him down

it takes levi a while to warm up to the idea, but when he does he's really excited for his baby

he's going to want to read tsl to your stomach as a bedtime story (if the baby is a boy he wants to name him henry too)

Satan

satan is kind of in denial, if you were pregnant he would have known right? why didn't you say something?

he's never thought about being a father, he needs a moment to let it sink and do research on babies

but he warms up to the idea eventually, and he'll be the softest you've ever seen

satan got little children's books and those cute music boxes for when the baby comes

Asmodeus

out of everyone, asmo would me the most upset you tried to hide it

but he loves you and the baby so he forgives you soon

asmo might not know how to be a father at first, but he's willing to learn and raise the baby with you

plus he's going to want one of those maternity photoshoots, but if you don't it's okay

Beelzebub

yes he's not happy you kept it from him but baby :))

beel would do anything to make you and them happy

he's really worried you're going to get hurt though, if you're cooking together beel does not let you pick up a spatula or get close to the stove

also beel loves to hug your stomach, it's basically what he does every night now

Belphegor

he's not happy about it at first because he honestly did not want a child

but seeing you pregnant, realising you'd make a great parent, it changed his mind

belphie gets the best pillows and blankets so you can be comfortable while sleeping

if the baby is keeping you awake belphie will try to calm them down

Diavolo

he understands why you hid it from him, imagine getting pregnant with the demon prince's child- oh no are you scared?

it doesn't matter whether you are actually scared or not, diavolo will take his time to show you all is well, he's really happy to welcome his child

he took a picture of you and your cute baby bump, made it his ddd wallpaper and stares at it when he doesn't want to work

Barbatos

it took him by surprise, but barbatos can adapt quickly

he's really happy to be having a baby with you, he's ready to give you anything you need to make the pregnancy easier

do you want tea, a massage or something else? barbatos has got you

he can't wait to meet his baby, he doesn't want to use his powers and spoil it for himself

Simeon

...so that's why you could eat solomon's soup last week without getting sick

he forgives you for hiding it, surely you had a good reason

simeon loves the baby so much he sings lullabies he used to sing to luke for them already, this man's face physically softens every time he sees the baby bump

but really, maybe you should stay away from food that randomly appears in the fridge that simeon didn't make

Solomon

he's a little upset but that's okay, in all his years he's never felt this happy

he can't wait to hold his little baby for the first time

being a human too, solomon knows plenty of stuff about human pregnancy so that's great

'simeon why are you stopping me I'm just going to offer mc a sandwich I made'

[zentriii]

atsumu groans when light fills up his room. his head's submerged in the clouds and all he knows is that he's going to have to call out of practise today. fuck.

the sheets beside him are barely warm so he forces his eyes open and rubs the crust out with the back of his hand. what kiyoomi won't see can't hurt him. his phone reads 6:23. at least he's awake early enough that kiyoomi hasn't left yet.

the process of brushing his teeth and throwing a pair of clean, non-sweaty pants on feel like they take up five years. there's a fit of nausea trying to make itself known in his stomach but he wants to see kiyoomi off.

"how're you feeling?" kiyoomi asks, filling a plate up with eggs.

"like i wanna be run over by a car." atsumu finds that to be more of an honest statement than he thought it was. he can barely stand up but the unsteadiness of walking over is daunting.

"do you think you can eat some eggs?" there's a small gesture towards the plate in his hands but fuck – the thought alone of how greasy the butter is, the strong flavours of salt and pepper – he could puke.

"i dunno if i could keep 'em down t'be honest," he mumbles, shame churning in his gut. it's not the first time kiyoomi's seen him sick – but it's the first time since they started living together. there's nowhere to hide in their apartment.

"try?" and it's that classic Omi-Pout™ that has him folding. a little because it's cute. a little because he still feels like he's imposing sometimes. a little because he refuses to live with regrets – if all there is, is here and now, atsumu knows he'll be upset if kiyoomi becomes upset too.

there isn't much else for him to do but shrug helplessly and unstick his feet from the ground. walking isn't too bad after the first step – or with company.

the toaster pops off and kiyoomi quickly adds those to his plate before atsumu can even finish washing his hands – as if he'd refuse anything more once he sat down. kiyoomi's not wrong, but still! it's the principle of the matter – wait is atsumu internally trying to convince himself that kiyoomi should consider him a simp? that that's how he wants to be seen?

does he? he does not. (does he?)

atsumu is very confused on which side he's on right now and comes to the conclusion that his head hurts so he will not be thinking further on this matter. he sits down.

kiyoomi's long since scurried off to grab his gym bag and change out of his pjs but despite atsumu's 23 years of life – he misses him. his company's a quiet but solid one and the warmth that atsumu always feels from beside him leaves in exchange for a cold chill. the egg starts tasting more bland.

surprisingly enough – flavour-wise it isn't all that rich to begin with. kiyoomi's the type to overdo quite literally everything when it comes to food, and even though atsumu was expecting something more mellowed out in terms of taste, it's super easy on his stomach.

he wants to ask but kiyoomi beats him to it, walking out of their room and ready for the day. "i used less salt and pepper and cooked it on oil instead of butter. are you alright to finish it?"

atsumu's stomach turns into a mess for a whole new reason and there's tears pricking at his eyes that he ignores. "yeah," he croaks, voice far too fragile to say any more.

"i called coach already, i left some medicine on your nightstand and – rest well okay?" kiyoomi's brows furl and it rushes into atsumu all at once how far kiyoomi's going for him.

kiyoomi who hates being sick, hates the idea of even getting sick. kiyoomi who's been playing nurse since atsumu woke them both up in the middle of the night with a sudden fever, not once complaining about being in close contact with him.

"omi-kun–" atsumu's voice warbles. he's gonna regret this later but he's. he's not even sure what he wants to say but he feels steady enough on his feet thanks to the food kiyoomi carefully made.

"i'll be back soon yeah?" and it's the way kiyoomi doesn't make a step to the door that brings words flooding out of atsumu.

"i'll be waitin' at home for ya." there's a silent moment where he wonders if he chose wrong, if kiyoomi wasn't really ready to refer to his apartment as theirs. it's only been two months since he–

"yeah, love you." atsumu hates how he can't smother kiyoomi's stupid pretty little face in kisses so instead he engraves the curve of kiyoomi's pleased and wobbly smile into his mind.

atsumu knows his face is just as sappy. he can't quite find it in himself to care.

"love you too."

[seiwas]

masterlist

・・・・・ this is the masterlist for my one year anniversary collab event! minors dni. links to each fic/art will be updated as they come; if you're interested in joining, you can check out this post for the guidelines! this masterlist will stop updating on july 25, 2025.

fics

boku no hero academia

ꕤ bakugo katsuki

feelings left unspoken by @peachsukii # fluff fluff fluff. just how katsuki acts in love. sfw. summary: bakugo’s hidden love language is touch. any and every kind. hand holding, arm slung around your waist, hand at the small of your back, ankles hooked under a table, etc.

[title tba] by 🌱 # early relationship katsuki summary: tba

untitled by @gfguren # f!reader, pro-hero!bakugo, hurt/comfort, established quirk, strangers to friends(?) to lovers summary: bakugou likes to think he knows everything, can handle just about anything that's thrown his way with flying colors and then some. so why can't he figure out this tug in his chest, or the upset in his stomach whenever you come around lately? you with your stupid quirk and all your stinkin' audacity. who do you think you are to figure him out with one little touch, one measly brush of your fingers against his anyways?

ꕤ todoroki shouto

[title tba] by @withclawandvine # sfw, established relationship summary: tba

haikyuu

ꕤ iwaizumi hajime

[title tba] by @merumis # tba summary: you’re not unfamiliar with a regretful hookup, but last night’s might just make the top of your list. still, you and iwa planned this roadtrip to see your friends months ago—surely things won’t be different. so why does he keep looking at you like that? and why is his cold water bottle always against the back of your neck?

ꕤ kuroo tetsurou

[title tba] by @tetzoro # sfw ; tooth rotting fluff ᡣ𐭩 summary: kuroo tetsuro has spent his whole life looking after others. it’s something that came naturally to him, as simple as breathing. it never fails to catch him off guard when he finds you doing the same for him and yet, he can’t help but melt under your tender care.

ꕤ ojiro aran

he's not subtle! by @noosayog # gn!reader, sfw, fluff summary: maybe he’s not one for over-the-top declarations, but it’s all the same when he makes it this obvious.

ꕤ sakusa kiyoomi

love me from your point of view by @irisintheafterglow # pro player!sakusa x rockstar!reader, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, character study, angst/fluff, sfw summary: you teach sakusa kiyoomi how to love, in spite of the cameras and the gossip.

jujutsu kaisen

ꕤ fushiguro megumi

[title tba] by @raven-cincaide # sfw summary: tba

ꕤ fushiguro toji

untitled by @cuntcure # nsfw, fluff, morning sex, very domestic and soft! summary: most mornings, you are only partially roused to a place just beyond being fully awake and coherent.

[title tba] by @pmpmyread # f!reader, mostly fluff, with suggestive themes and implied/non-graphic smut summary: tba

ꕤ gojo satoru

i won’t come back to you broken (i’ve been away too long) by @kissxcore # sfw, blind!gojo, angst probably, jjk spoilers summary: in which you prove to gojo that every part of him is loveable, even without his eyes.

and five more by @mieiri # gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff! summary: boyfie! satoru sleeps on your shoulder. you think about him in the meantime.

ꕤ nanami kento

[title tba] by @selarina # sfw, anniversaries summary: tba

the ghost of u by @em1e # a little bit of angst, sfw. summary: the intimacy of sharing music.

ꕤ sukuna

[title tba] by @miss-cincaide # nsfw summary: tba

wind breaker

ꕤ hiragi toma

bloom by @melon-fodder # sfw, 'shedding' as little signs of your partner being in your space summary: over time you fill hiragi’s heart and home with little pieces of yourself.

ꕤ togame jo

[title tba] by @shinuko # tba summary: tba

art

jujutsu kaisen

ꕤ gojo satoru

romantic encounter by @mididoodles # gn!reader, sfw description: cat!gojo and bunny!reader cuddling/sleeping.

ꕤ nanami kento

[title tba] by @mididoodles # selfship, fluff description: tba

thank you for participating, and enjoy!

[bonny-kookoo]

Anything bonny baby, I recently watched Bam House? I don't remember the name but he managed to invite Taeyeon over and act all giddy and cute for having her. I can't help but that reminds me of baby darling jungkook when she's around him 🔮🎄

Baby Darling kook is WAY worse haha!

Jungkook is already quite a bit to handle. But drunk Jungkook, definitely is a handful.

He's clingy, that's a fact, constantly seeking some sort of physical contact. And he's smiling, laughing a lot, continuously making random compliments. "What kind of skincare do you use?" He wonders, running his hands shamelessly over your legs beneath your loose sweatpants. "You skin is so soft, it's insane!" He hums, before he yawns so hard his eyes tear up a little.

"I think it's my bodyscrub." You giggle, before you move, causing him to whine in protest, hands clinging to your shirt to keep you on the couch. "Jungkook you're sleepy-"

"Nooo, I'm fully awake, I swear, let's stay up longer!" He complains, before he has to yawn once more.

"No, let's go to bed." You deny, making him huff and boldly throw himself over your lap, arms wrapping around you as he hides his face against your stomach.

"No, then it'll be tomorrow." He hums. "And that means I have to go home again.." he complains, and you place a hand on his shoulder.

"But you can visit me?" You wonder.

"Yeah but that's not like now!" He responds, upset. "Right now it's all.. I don't know." He huffs, holding you close.

"What's.. making you so clingy right now?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

He's been pining after his long term crush for so long that he's not really.. let himself experience anything like he does right now. He's not had someone sleep next to him like you did last night, cuddle with him on the couch. Wear his clothes, or just.. exist so closely to him like you are right now.

And he's become addicted to this. The closeness, the physical affection, the smiles and the warmth and the smell of you. Should he be worried?

No. He realizes what this actually is.

"I think I have a huuuge crush on you, you know?" He suddenly laughs, turning around to just have his head in your lap, looking up at you as you run your hand through his hair.

"Huh?" You wonder, and he nods, grinning.

"I do." He hums. "You're soo pretty." He giggles.

"Alright, time to go to bed now." You shake your head laughing, pushing him playfully so he's forced to sit up, before you turn off the TV and hold out your hands for him to grab. He does- swaying a bit, before he holds you close- just hugging you in the middle of your living room, quietly enjoying your company.

"I really like you." He mumbles into your neck. "I mean it. It's not just the beer talking." He confesses.

"..then tell me tomorrow again, when you're sober." You say, hands on his back. "So I can believe you."

"I will." He leans back, nodding determined.

"And I'll tell you every day after that as well, so you won't forget."

[radfemsiren]

There's something so specific about female oppression that makes you acutely aware of being a small part of a bigger phenomenon.

I'm not an Asian woman, but there's a profound disturbance I feel when I see an Asian sister become degraded for the crime of being woman. I feel a deep hatred for sex tourism and fetishization, for maids being treated like commodities and having their passports withheld from them. I feel my stomach wretch when I see a picture of Junko Furuta, when I heard those male Japanese politicians laugh at raising the age of consent in pornography. There's something wrong happening to my sisters out there.

I'm not a black woman but I feel a deep ugly pit in my stomach when I see the interviews of Sudanese women escaping rape and starvation in the desert. When I saw that video of Cassie Ventura running from Diddy in the hallway, when I hear her screams and know his power and influence protected him for so many years. When I see the family portraits of Sonya Massey and her children, and I know there can be no future ones ever created. There's something wrong happening to my sisters.

I'm not a woman who is disabled. I'm not a woman in a domestically abused relationship. I'm not a prostituted woman. I'm not a trafficked woman. I'm not locked away right now. Everything that happened to me is in my past... I have freedom and autonomy now... I can just move on and forget about the worldwide phenomenon of female pain. But I know I can't. There's a terrible gnawing.

Growing up Muslim we always were taught that the Muslim nation is called the Ummah. The Ummah must operate as one body. I was taught many times that if anyone in the Ummah at any time is in pain, the body is restless, and can't sleep... even the smallest prick of a finger can keep you wide awake, aware of the pain. They always said it like that, holding up a finger. Just, the smallest, prick.

There's a sickness happening in the worldwide body of women, and it keeps me awake at night. There's anger and defensiveness I feel when a woman is the butt of a mean joke. There's bitter resentment I feel when I see men get special treatment that I know a woman would be crucified for. I feel anger so often. When I see little girls being stabbed in the news. When I see girls starving in Palestine. When I see girls forced to wear hijab and stay home in Afghanistan. Sudan. Yemen. Iran. Egypt. Honduras. Femicide. Rape. Forced birth. Menstrual huts. FGM. So many ugly words, so many tainted countries.

Sometimes I worry that too much anger might poison me over time...but what can I do about my sisters? There isn't a finger prick upsetting my body, there's gaping wounds, pulsing and bleeding out. I cant sleep like that... Sometimes I hold onto my body when I'm alone, with that sickening knowledge what while it does everything it possibly can to keep me alive and safe, women all over are suffering for having the same exact body. Sometimes I would hate my body in the past. Knowing that certain things only happened to me for the crime of having a female body. But now I hold onto it, grateful it keeps me alive and breathing, and I try to ignore that gnawing at the back of my mind while I try to sleep.

[wordy-little-witch]

I have the wildest soft spot for omegaverse stuff done well, specifically with worldbuilding and nuance and dynamic takes so here's mine:

((For context, platonic Shanks and Buggy))

Roger's crew was mostly Alphas and some Betas, so when they took two Pups on (one from infancy, one later on), they weren't really expecting much. Then Shanks presented as an Alpha. Oh, they think, okay that checks out. Might need to start looking into giving the boys their own rooms, but things are chill for now. Not much changes beyond Shanks trying to cuddle Buggy a little bit more than usual. Red's pretty even tempered, as far as Alphas go! This is gonna be fine-

And then Buggy complains of a stomach ache.

They don't realize at first what it is. Crocus does note that he has a slight fever, Roger is a bit more frantic in his general smothering habits, and Buggy's even allowing it, but they just think the poor dear is getting sick again.

That night, Buggy shakes Shanks awake. He's flushed and lightheaded and everything hurts, he's not okay, he needs something and he doesn't know what, his bones are itching - and Shanks pulls him into his bed, into a hug, and Buggy burrows closer, whining, a soft sound Shanks has never heard quite like this, but Buggy is upset, and he smells distressed, he's scared so-

He yells for dad, and Crocus, Roger and Ray come running. They all panic because Buggy is absolutely presenting, but that is a HEAT, and they're NOT EQUIPPED FOR THIS, Crocus sends Ray to update the course to find the closest possible docking spot, he tries to pick Buggy up, pull him away from Shanks, and Buggy growls. Everyone freezes, and Roger reaches out to pet the blue haired boy's head, earning a tiny chirp even as their junebug clung to his packmate harder. Shanks cuddles him back just as tightly, and Buggy squirms until he can grab Roger's sleeve, tugs as he blinks up at the man with pleading blue eyes.

Crocus admits that his familiarity with omegan health is lacking, it being a rather small field of study officially. He's not entirely sure what he can do, especially given Buggy's natural health issues they've already determined and his Devil Fruit. It's a learning curve. But the first Heats are typically the worst - more painful, overwhelming, etc, as they are essentially a biological startup sequence. Things shift, move, activate, and the first can often lead to heatsickness - given Buggy's general demeanor already, that's a higher concern.

As it is, it becomes smth of a chaotic frenzy of trying to keep a hormonal firecracker both calm and resting. This is not made easier with Buggy's clinginess, nor his odd skill in simply disappearing because he got bored, came back to the Nest to find someone missing (they went to search for him), and now's he's sniffling and everyone is trying to avoid a sobbing clown.

Now for context, Alphas, Betas, Omegas - these are all secondary to your primary genders. The primary is the general default of genetics and are multifaceted. Your secondary is a mix of genetic and instinctive reaction to thing, or rather how your brain is hardwired to respond to external stimuli. You can transition either or both, and some can change secondaries without intervention. Typically changed secondaries happen in adulthood and are either a bit of clownfish type biology bullshit or a result of a sudden, stark paradigm shift.

Buggy never really had much reason either way to change much - he's always been fairly serious about very specific things, and while being an Omega - the ONLY Omega at that - on the crew was a point of insecurity, he never really thought the instincts that came with it were bad. ((He also didn't think to hate THAT bit, he hated other things about himself)).

But yeah, Buggy being an Omega. I dunno. I just very specifically love that take.

Also Buggy's crew being aware of his designation makes me so happy. Like. He'd definitely be the type to not give a flying fuck about gender, assigned or otherwise, sexuality, race, whatever the fuck. He values what you HAVE, not what you ARE, and I think he'd be adamant on that with his crew. Sexism, misogyny, racism, trans or homophobia is stomped out faster than you could blink. And if he catches wind of a question of consent, he is handling that matter PERSONALLY.

((Bonus points, by and large, most don't know Buggy's secondary bc he uses scent patches and doesn't fit the stereotypes. There's theories, but the main one is him being a Beta or a weird Alpha, Omegas and Piracy are not a concept which go hand in hand very often to the public eye.

Cross Guild was formed with that little tidbit unknown, and it led to some very silly hijinks and shenanigans))

[edbloves]

https://www.tumblr.com/edbloves/754938770487476224/consumed-by-thoughts-of-post-war-bucky-and-buck

Is there any chance we can have more of this 🥹🥹

Hi Anon!!

You absolutely can, let's see if I can cook something up for you, darling! These have been the head cannons bouncing around in my head the last few days so here you go:

After doing a little bit of math, I've decided that John's daughter would be around three (for pregnancy, stalag and post-war timing reasons)

John honestly doesn't remember her mother, and feels horribly guilty for it. He has vague memories of a drunken night in the Bristish bars with a Red Cross girl where both of them were mutually using the other to try to forget the war, but he knows nothing about her and barely remembers what she looks like. And to be honest, there were numerous instances of those, with numerous women

John, being the more charismatic of the two, relates better to her, though he is petrified that he's going to mess up and screw up her life (i.e. he's very aware that he drinks too much and smokes too much)

Gale is more nervous around her, never grew up with siblings and never knew anyone with kids her age and is terrified he's going to disappoint her or unknowingly start acting like his father. But once she starts to get more comfortable with them, he realizes that she's just a mini John and he falls even more in love with her

She LOVES Meatball (whom Demarco gave to Buck because Florida is not the place for a husky) and Meatball loves her back, they spend evenings with Meatball curled around her small frame and her tiny hands scrunched in his fur. Honestly, he's kind of like a therapy dog/emotional support animal for her after her mother's death and transition into John and Gale's life

All three of them get nightmares, John and Gale's about the war and her's about her mother dying, and later, about Buck and Bucky dying so it isn't uncommon for them to be up in the middle of the night all together

On that note, Gale keeps the fridge stocked with each other their favourite ice cream flavours (vanilla for him, chocolate for her and Bucky) and on warm nights where the nightmares wake them up, they'll all pile into the truck in their pyjamas and head out where there are views of the whole city and they'll curl up in the bed of the truck wrapped up and snuggled in blankets with Buck pointing out constellations and Bucky explaining that the sky is where he and Buck used fly

When she calls Bucky Daddy for the first time, he's calm about it with her but he completely loses it afterwards to Gale, emotionally overwhelmed and touched by her trust and love

On her second night with them, Gale is awake in the middle of the night thinking and spiralling and trying make mental tallies of all the things he has to do and learn and help her with and holy shit he's so unprepared and what are they going to do with a child, let alone a girl?? So he climbs out of bed and unthinking of the late hour, phones Marge and asks her how she does her hair. And lovely Marge is like WTF Gale? So Gale explains, says Bucky has a kid so I guess I have a kid now, too.

She has them instantaneously wrapped around her finger and they literally struggle so hard to say no to her ("You tell her she can't do that, John." "Why me? You tell her!" "I don't want her to be upset with me!" "You think I do?!") Good cop, bad cop is literally impossible to do with them, and Gale can't stomach it anyways, not with how his father was

They overload her with toys and clothes and sweets, particularly Gale, trying to come out from underneath the shadow of his own father and frets constantly that she doesn't know they love her

John is the one typically taking her out to do lots of activities, he signs her up for ballet and teaches her baseball as she grows up, puts her on the horses and on a bike probably too-early but Gale can't find it in himself to complain when John's smile is plastered all over her little face

Gale takes her with him EVERYWHERE, and not in the way his Dad took him (like it was a forced thing, like he was a nuisance he had to look after) but because Gale literally just wants to spend time with her all the time. He enjoys talking to her and getting her books to read as she learns her ABCs and hearing her three-year-old (sometimes strange) opinions on things, and having her accompany him to the grocery store and the post-office

Marge begs to babysit and she has to be damn convincing to get them to give her their daughter for a night

That's all I got for now! Hope you enjoy :) We'll see if I come up with more, then I might make it into a multi chapter fic if enough people are interested!

[45cementry-gates]

This Starving Heart

#8. Your New Addiction

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Sleeping through the night without feeling the phantom sensations of hands roaming all over his body and nails digging into his skin was rare.

Waking up without his heart hammering into his chest and feeling nausea rise up his throat was even more rare.

A rarity that Shubman only ever experienced when he was home with his family.

But waking up and feeling relaxed with Ishan's arms around him, his head snuggling perfectly against his chest was..... a little too much to handle.

He had behaved awkwardly when they had settled into their room but in his defense, it's not his fault that Ishan keeps taking his shirt off in front of him or that he keeps playing with his hair or the way he bites his locket while scrolling through the phone drives Shubman insane.

He does feel like a creep sometimes but at this point his body simply refuses to listen to him.

His eyes keep ogling Ishan whenever they're training.

His skin breaks into goosebumps due to a mere touch when Ishan grabbed his arm to fix his position.

And when Ishan is not distracting him by existing, his brain worked overtime to create fantasies he never had about anyone before. Some were simple, like imagining holding hands or cuddling with him; others were.....Well....they mostly just caused a lot of inconvenience for him due to the reactions his body had.

He felt his heart hammer in his chest again, but this time, he knew it wasn't because of the nightmares.

Ishan's sleeping face looked like something you'd only see in one of those artistic Indie movies.

Shubman committed every little detail into his memory.

The pretty lips, curly hair, the way his right cheek was smushed against the pillow a little bit, how long his lashes were, the warmth of his arms, the way his fingers curled against Shubman's shirt;

He laid there for a couple of minutes to soak it all in.

His dreams and fantasies may never come true, but this was real. And for him, it was more than enough.

He slowly slid out of his blanket and Ishan's sleeping hug (despite his protesting heart) and went to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, after taking a shower and putting on his clothes, he stepped out.

Ishan was awake and sitting on the edge of their bed, scrolling on his phone with his towel beside him. He looked up at him,

"Are you done?"

"......."

"Hey! I'm TALKING TO YOU!"

"Huh? Oh- Uh....Good Morning to you too?"

God he looks adorable with a bed head.

"That's not what I sai- ugh. Whatever. I asked you if you are done during the bathroom."

"Oh yeah. You can go ahead."

"Hmm... Did you not sleep well?"

It was the best sleep of my lif-

No wait. Can't say that.

"I... No...I slept alright.... I think?"

His face softened in concern then.

"You think? You seem lost. Are you tired?"

Yup. Lost in your-

Shit.

"No. No I slept well."

He grabbed his stuff from his bedside table and turned away without another word.

Staying near Ishan was distracting enough, but his sleepy eyes and toussled hair made him dangerous.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Breakfast was.....weird.

Hardik bhai kept throwing dirty looks at him and his plate.

It's not his fault his appetite has reduced, so why be upset with him? His uncooperative stomach deserves the glares, not him.

If that wasn't enough, Ishan then snatched his plate and piled a bunch of food he definitely didn't want to eat but...

How many people in the world are fortunate enough to get a plate full of stuff hand picked by their crush?

Not many, he guesses, especially when said crush is THE Ishan Kishan.

So he tries his best to push down the queasy protests of his body and eats.

The stares and lack of chattering around them starts to feel suffocating. He tries to eat as much as he can and then gets up, dumps the plate, and bolts.

He finds Ishan coming after him a minute later.

"You've been doing that a lot, you know?"

"doing what? Putting on pads for batting?"

He tightens the straps on his right leg.

Ishan sighs. "No... Running away whenever you feel cornered."

He bends and grabs his bat.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He's about to turn away, but Ishan grabs his arm.

"Wait.... Just... Listen to me."

He squirms and tries to free his arm but apparently Ishan's fingers have iron instead of bones as the grip tightens, bordering on painful.

"What? What is it?"

"Just.... Ugh. God I really don't know how to talk to you."

Well.....that's not hurtful at all.

"It's just that... we've been in the team together for a while now but all we have ever done is fight about everything.

Now I can't even ask you if you're alright without making it sound stupid."

His heart gives a squeeze.

"So You're worried about me?"

Is it normal to be this happy over someone worrying about you?

Ishan sighs again.

It's a pretty sound.

To be fair, every sound he makes feels like the soft jingles of window chimes to Shubman but...its not exaggeration if it's the truth right?

"Yes. Yes I am worried about you. You were having nightmares yesterday. I can't remember the last time you ate like a normal person. You keep dozing off in the bus and you always look tired.

What is going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me! You didn't even pause to think before saying nothing."

He runs a hand through his hair and huffs.

"if you don't want to tell me, which, completely understandable by the way, talk to someone else. Siraj or Virat Bhai or any of your friends. Just don't pretend everything is alright."

Shubman wants to laugh at the irony of it all.

The guy responsible for his sleepless nights and distractions is asking him what's going on with him.

It feels like a cruel joke, because while he knows Ishan's concern is genuine, how could he ever tell him, or anyone what's actually going on?

He would prefer the concerned looks over disgusted ones any day.

So he shakes his head and repeats, "It's nothing Ishan. Nothing anyone can solve anyway."

Ishan stares at his face for a few seconds.

"is it.... Um... You know I don't really care about rumors on the internet but... "

"What?"

"Is it about Sara Tendulkar?"

He has no idea what expressions Ishan sees on his face because he instantly starts apologizing.

"I'm sorry I... It's your personal life and you obviously don't have to answer anybo- "

"It's not true."

"Huh?"

He forcefully spits out each word.

"It's.  Not.  True.

They are pointless rumors and nothing else. I barely even talked to her. I don't like her, we are not secret lovers and I am definitely NOT SACHIN TENDULKAR'S SON-IN-LAW!"

He feels a hand rub his shoulder.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that.

I believe you, so relax okay?"

He feels drained and practice hasn't even started.

"I'm just tired of the screaming in stadiums and so called journalists insisting I must be dating her to keep my spot in the team.

It just feels like... Am I not skilled enough to get on the team without having connections like that?"

Ishan raises his hand a little and awkwardly pets his head.

"You're here because of hard work, because of your sacrifices and your family's support. I know that. The team knows that.

Other people don't matter."

He leans into the touch.

Ishan's fingers feel magical and his words feel like a soothing shower of reassurance on the stinging wounds of his insecurities.

......that is until Rohit bhai's voice booms over them, breaking the magical spell.

"Oye lovebirds! Come here! We're starting with feilding drills."

He feels like his face is on fire.

Ishan quickly snatches his hand back and starts running. One look at him and the bright red tips of his ears give away how he's feeling.

Shubman runs after him, as he always does.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

We are SO BACK.

pls pls comment and tell me what you think... Your comments are my fuel ❣️

Tagging :

Tagging : @hum-suffer @bimesskaira @ishuess @fortunatelycrazyyouth @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @athena-swords @happypopcornprincess @deeee60 @melancholicmonody @roseromeroredranger @miyuki7 @fangirlingintellectual @books-butterbeer @nothingmuch08 @cherryryryryryry @hazell07 @imjellyjenny @kishmishorkissish

@hanaahaa @randomlyblue @kishmish23

Tell me if you want me to add or remove you from the taglist ❣️

ฅ'ω'ฅ

[nonhumanhottie]

And, lover, be good to me

Finnpoe one shot. 700 words. Kisses and fluff. AO3 link ~~~ Poe is up late and Finn needs to wrangle him to bed

There’s always work to do, and Poe doesn’t know how to do things in moderation.

It’s well into the night cycle, and the command centre is near-empty. Poe is at a terminal, reading reconnaissance reports on First Order-controlled systems in the Outer Rim. Despite the crushed leadership, the remaining officers hold on tight. Poe pours over the data, examining strategies to free these systems (and then also prevent them from falling into the hands of Outer Rim crime syndicates).

It’s never-ending. Poe’s eyes burn and he stops every few minutes to roughly rub his face. He could delegate this role to someone else; he trusts the command team. But if he wasn’t working on this, he’d be throwing himself into something else. He can’t sleep. There are ghosts in his room and echoes in the hallways. Victory was a fleeting sensation, and the adrenaline has long since worn off.

He keeps reading, bouncing one leg to keep himself awake. He considers stims, but that’s a habit he was proud to break; he can’t get caught up in that again.

Someone approaches the terminal. Poe’s stomach curls. At this hour, it must be someone presenting bad news. It’s always bad news.

He turns and Finn is standing there, holding a mug. ‘Oh, man, it’s worse than I thought,’ he says. ‘You look terrible.’

Poe wants to laugh, but it catches in his throat. He coughs. ‘I’m fine.’ He rubs his face again. ‘I mean, I’m not. But, you know.’

‘I have caf,’ Finn says, offering the mug. ‘I still don’t know how you like it, and unsweetened, too.’

Poe waves his hand vaguely. ‘Yeah, thanks, uh, just put it on the desk.’

Finn does so. ‘The caf is only for if I fail to convince you to go to bed.’

‘How’re you gonna do that?’ Poe asks, swallowing a yawn. He can’t prove Finn’s point for him.

‘For starters, sleep is important. Especially for a pilot.’

Poe snorts and returns to the screen. ‘You kidding? I’d kill to be in my ship right now.’

‘No one is stopping you.’

‘I’m stopping me.’ Poe holds up his hand. ‘Which isn’t a good reason, I know. Sleeping comes hard, though. I just. I just gotta keep going.’

‘I thought the point of making me your co-general was so you didn’t have to do this alone.’

Poe’s head jerks up. Finn isn’t upset; in fact, he’s smiling, patient and knowing. Still, Poe cringes and drags his hands down his cheeks. ‘I’m not. I wasn’t trying to—’

Finn leans down and kisses him. It’s very abrupt and more forward than Poe expected. It’s a little awkward but warm and comforting. Poe falls into it, and sighs, weary, wanting. He’s glad Finn initiates kisses now, a sign that the constraint of the First Order had forever washed away. A sign that Finn belongs right here with Poe, with the Resistance.

It’s exhausting work to clean up a galaxy so fractured and Poe doesn’t think he’s going to get a good night’s sleep for a long, long time. But Finn is beside him, his co-general. Finn grew into a leader, selfless and level-headed, the traits Leia was trying to guide out of Poe. Hell, Finn is probably a better leader than him, and he understands moderation.

With some exceptions. When Poe responds to the kiss by opening his mouth and touching Finn’s arm, Finn doubles his efforts. His tongue prods, pushes past Poe’s lips and he cups Poe’s cheeks. The worry melts away, for now, and Poe touches Finn’s waist. He chases Finn’s mouth until they’re both standing, pressed together, panting. For a brief moment, the galaxy is very small and very warm.

They pull apart, but not too far. Finn noses at his cheek, embraces him gently. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Like I just kissed a beautiful guy.’

Finn chuckles quietly. ‘The feeling is mutual, pal.’ He gestures his chin at the desk. ‘You gonna drink the caf I graciously made you?’

‘Unless you’re gonna offer me something better?’

‘Right this way,’ Finn says, nudging Poe’s lower back.

Poe follows, arm around Finn, and allows himself to enjoy this small, warm part of the galaxy.