#i am simply going to curl up in my bed with my blankets and pillows and laptop and a stack of books next to me

[v-tired-queer]

Today is canceled, I'm going back to bed ✌️

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[n0tamused]

Hello! If requests are open, I would love yo request something

Would you be willing to write about Ratio comforting his s/o who's mental health is not the greatest (by which I mean awful)

Head canons, a little drabble, whatever you're most comfortable with

- 🦐

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, angst, turns to fluff, overworked and stressed reader, depression. Hope you enjoy this shrimp anon!<3

Words: 2275

Rises of the moon

‘I will not come in today, I’m sorry. I am still not well enough for work, but hopefully tomorrow I will be.’ 

You stared at the message yet to be sent, the phone feeling like a brick instead with the weight of it pulling you down into the ground and into the abyss. Talking was exhausting, yet sending the message seemed like an even more arduous task to complete. Your reputation waited, and you’d throw it away simply because you couldn’t type out a sentence good enough to send, a sentence that could save you some questioning and some dignity? 

Like a trap door your mind opened beneath you, your worst critic and the source of the distress. You felt like you were falling endlessly and hitting rock bottom all at once, making days and hours converge together until nothing but dust blinded you alongside your tears. 

‘I will not come in today. I am still not well enough for work, hopefully tomorrow I will be.’

The letters stared back at you.

‘Good morning, I will not be coming in this morning either, my health is not yet improved for the work environment. With kind regards- (Y/n)(L/n)’

Send, just send it, send. 

Before you can look at the message once more your hand grips the phone hard enough to press into the button at the side, making the screen go dark and after that you don't try to turn it on. Instead, you curled up on your side, your bed feeling like spare traces of comfort you could still grasp on with your phone getting lost amidst the blankets and pillows you hoarded up around you. Sleep had evaded you this night as well, overtaken by more important tasks of weeping over imperfect papers and reports. It’s been three days, today is the fourth. How much longer will they take that sorry excuse before they bring your integrity into question? You didn’t want to know.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow will be better (I’ll pretend).

After what felt like hours of laying in your bed, hoping to outlive the rumbling of your stomach, you finally dragged yourself out and roamed your home for some more, glancing at the trash can full of crumpled papers and the broken glass cup you accidentally pushed off the table the night before. Opening your fridge you could only relish in the cold breeze that licked up your neck and face, but the food held within looked no more appetizing than the night before. You stood there for a while longer, waiting if suddenly, by some chance, you may get a craving for a slice of cheese or perhaps a pepper instead.

Around half an hour later your ears were grated by the sudden ring of the bell, which snapped you out of whatever damp thought you had at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone - matter of fact, you told your close ones you needed space and time to heal from the ‘fever’ you told them about. 

Yet when your heavy feet delivered you to the door, you couldn’t say you were surprised by who was behind them. Greeted by the sight of damp purple hair and coral eyes, heavy with intent to get dry, you could only clear your throat before Veritas spoke up for you.

“I got your messages this morning. Quite late to send such notices for work, wouldn’t you say?”

“..What?” you blinked owlishly at him, completely lost for words. 

“Hm, what? You sent me messages you were feeling unwell, multiple of the same as well.. I thought it would do us both well to check in on you” Veritas stood looking down at you, letting all the cool air in as you remained glued to the door like a statue, heavy lidded eyes and ears struggling to process what he had said. You were sending the messages to your boss - but in your anguished stupor you have sent them all to him instead. The malicious feeling came back underneath your ribs and stabbed right up, and you could see Veritas’ eyes widen upon seeing your face morph into a frown-pout. 

“Here, let me in, will you? You don’t want to get even more sick, or get me sick as well?” he tried to urge as gently as he could, walking in when you stepped aside and putting down a grocery bag for just enough that it took him to take off his shoes. His umbrella was put in the corner, sopping wet and letting you know it was still raining. You stood stiff in the hall, shoulders wanting to push up to your cheeks while your hands crossed at the wrists down in front of you. You sighed quietly, watching him as he straightened up, looking over at you.

With a step he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up already as he said “Come here..” and his palm pushed gently against your forehead. His touch was warm, and from how close he stood you could smell the damp smell of rain and autumn leaves. It was refreshing.

It was a quiet moment as he assessed you in the entry hallway. “Doesn’t appear you have a heightened temperature at all, but we’ll confirm that in a bit with a thermometer, just to be sure. Hmm.. you do look pale though. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to make something” You smoothly lied, not wishing to bring more shame by allowing him to look sad or worried or angry at you if you told the truth.

“Good. I’ll make you something. Now, don’t just stand in the hallway, come inside. You act more of a guest in your home than I do..” he motioned with his hand while taking a step to the side to let you through, urging you to come by, and when you did his hand found its spot at your lower back as if to guide you in. He hummed something softly in his throat, no certain melody but it was a small sign of his focus, and perhaps the liberty he found in your home. “Would you like to sit down here, or be with me in the kitchen?” he asked and you can’t help but gawk a little with the way he addressed you so gently, warmly, all while you felt slimy and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“With you, I’d like to be with you in the kitchen”

He nodded, his eyes mellowing further as he motioned for you to come with him, his grocery bag rustling as he lifted it up to set it on the counter. You slipped into a high chair at the kitchen island, watching as he pulled out a whole chicken, celery, onions and carrots. In his orderly fashion he sorted them out in a line before him, and by now he was quite familiar with the placements of things within your home and had no trouble finding the plates, the cutting boards and the rest of the ingredients. He washed his hands before handling the ingredients directly. 

“Can I do something to help?” you muttered after the lump in your throat felt so huge, nearly about to pop out of your mouth. Sitting idle did more harm than good, it showed in your shoulders and eyes. Veritas looked your way and shook his head, coming a bit closer until he could lean down and plant his lips to your forehead warmly, letting his lips linger a moment longer. 

“You can sit there and relax, I got this” he told you in a softened tone, going back to his cutting board. 

Veritas was no fool, he never  was, and especially not with you. He knew this was no fever, even if he did end up making you stay still as he handed you the thermometer to check again after he let the chicken cook in a pot along with the vegetables and herbs, standing next to you until that fateful beep sounded over the simmering and bubbling water.  No fever.

While the chicken was cooking, making the smell waft in the air in delicious waves, Veritas opened you up to conservation, small talk mostly until you relaxed further, distracted by the endless flow of words. He told you about what happened in the time of your absence, and what he has been up to with the Guild and what shenanigans his student did too. The last topic got a giggle out of you, and Veritas seemed to glow at the sound. He smiled too, along with you.

Hunger seemed more natural and welcome now as a bit more life returned to your joints and you rose from your seat to pace around the kitchen, still tired but more.. alive, just that - alive. Alive and comfortable. You would occasionally glance into the pot, narrowly missing the gust of steam that jumped up from the pot. 

“Should be done about now.. let me see... hmm” Veritas nudged against you over the stove, wearing kitchen mittens and removing the pot off the heat, and you promptly turned it off  and watched what he did. 

Veritas had made this recipe once before, when you really did have a fever. ‘Healing chicken vegetable soup’ - he said it was called, a recipe he seemed to recall from younger years of his childhood. You wanted to learn to make it and try to make it, but it would seem he never got sick or that he let you do it. This dish was his in truth. 

What came of his meticulous work was a delicious plate of soup with cut chicken meat, not a bone in sight. It was soft on the throat, although you ended up adding a bit more seasoning for your own tongue while Veritas dined on the soup as it was. He was slow with it, bent on observing you eat. 

“I assume that it is to your liking?”

You nodded, mouth full to respond. 

“Good. I am glad of it. Sometimes you have to take the back seat to get the joy of life, no matter how long you remain in that station it will be well worth it once you get back into the driver’s seat” He told you, hoping to get to you without addressing the matter directly, knowing it may result in more harm than good and your mood was just beginning to look up.

“Yeah… I know, Veritas. Yet having spent so much time at the head of it all, taking the back seat feels like a punishment” you managed to say after nearly scalding your throat with how eagerly you swallowed your bite, wanting to converse with him.  

“It is not a punishment, especially not when you know you need such a change in perspective. You’re doing yourself a misdeed by rooting yourself to the place that drained you in the first place” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Pft- now, don’t be so brazen with me after letting me see you so wilted” he bit back quickly, but he held no actual malice, only wasn’t prepared for your rebuttal. He cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea he prepared for you both. Veritas was human too, and you knew of his own trials and errors more than anyone else - of course he felt the same, but you didn’t need to force him to admit it.

You smiled at his jab, scooping up more soup. 

“Wilted? I have to thank you for the nourishment then, I am already feeling more.. revitalized” you told him and your look softened his own when you looked up at him. Color seeps back into your cheeks, and you don't wobble in your step or stumble. Your bones felt like bones again, not air. 

“I will take your thanks properly once you really feel better.. until then, I’d prefer if you ate well and actually took some of the advice I gave you.. I may have not said it but your message did worry me greatly..”

The words made you slow down in your motions and you looked at him in silent apology now, but he once again beat you to speaking. “Imagine - I had to cancel my classes. What will my students think now?”

“They must be thinking it’s the end of the world”

“Hah” His pearly whites show as he grins at your words and you nearly imitate him, but you smile regardless with what energy you got back. He is leaning back in his seat, arms crossed in an almost boyishly fashion, relaxed. “Perhaps, but I can easily make up for a missed class. Let them think what they will.. May this even get their mind spinning a little bit more if my absence is so heatedly understood”. 

By the time you were done sharing jabs and words, you had eaten more than you expected. The warmth of the tea and soup brings sleep to pull at your eyelids, beckoning you to close them. Veritas noticed you nearly nodding off at the table and was quick enough to come up to your side, hand on the opposite shoulder from where he stood. 

“It is time you go get to bed”

Had you had any more strength, you would have said you needed to get to working on those papers, but the memory of the same was lost in the night before, and all you could think of how comfortable the pillow will be when your heads falls onto it, and how warm Veritas’ arms will be when he lays down next to you.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/n: the recipe is actually a greek recipe ehehhehee, I wanted a little easter egg

[kissitbttr]

your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep ���😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭

oh you are absolutely correct!

|

“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”

“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,

he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”

he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,

“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,

if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,

but she is scary. can you blame him?

toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.

guess the apology gifts aren’t working,

“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”

she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,

toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,

tonight was an exception though,

all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,

y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.

and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!

something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,

toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?

she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,

toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.

what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.

he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,

bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.

“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,

he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.

“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,

“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone

“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,

he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.

“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”

no answer,

he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,

“baby—“

“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”

toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.

“you don’t mean that”

“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,

“princess, i swear-“

“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,

he can’t take this anymore,

“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,

“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth

“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”

she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”

he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”

[trippiexlove]

I Hate U

Author Note: Back to back one shots! Who am I?! This is a part three to my CARE one shots, with Josh and Solana. Read the first part linked here. Based off the song I Hate U by SZA <3. My master list is linked here.

Warning: Angst, profanity, talks of divorce, cheating.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC (Solana/SZA)

Word Count: 4,574 (she longgg)

And if you wondered if I hate you (I do) Shitty of you to make me feel just like this What I would do to make you feel just like this

"I love you, Mommy," Mia whispered, her sleepy eyes fluttering. Solana's heart melted. It had been a whirlwind day, filled with laughter, games, and the delightful chaos of being back home after weeks on tour. Finally, the kids were settling down.

"I love you too, princess," Solana murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Mia's forehead. "Sleep tight. I'll see you bright and early."

She gently pulled the soft blanket up to Mia's chin, lingering for a moment to watch her daughter's peaceful breathing. With a quiet click, she slipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Liam was already deep in slumber, his small form curled beneath the covers.

A wave of exhaustion washed over Solana as she entered her own room. She practically dove onto the bed, a sigh escaping her lips as the plush bedding enveloped her. The familiar comfort was a welcome balm after the constant motion of tour life.

Propping herself against the pillows, she reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. A flicker of anticipation turned to a quiet disappointment as she scanned her notifications. Nothing. No new messages, no missed calls. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a faint frown creasing her forehead.

She pulled up Josh's contact, her thumb instinctively pressing the call button. Just like the previous attempts, the phone rang and rang, finally defaulting to his voicemail. A knot of unease tightened in her chest. A full twenty-four hours of silence was unusual, even with the time difference. Josh was currently overseas, touring Europe to promote this year's WrestleMania, a fact she reminded herself of.

But the silence still felt...off. She tried to push down the nagging worry, telling herself he was simply busy. Still, the lack of communication left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

With a sigh, Solana blew out a breath, her gaze drifting towards the darkened window. She considered trying one more time, but the exhaustion was a heavy weight, pulling her down. Ultimately, she decided to let it go for tonight. Maybe he'd call in the morning. She set her phone on the nightstand, the glow of the screen fading into the darkness, and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.

Josh threw back the shot, the familiar burn settling in his chest. He was tired as hell, the show was long and grueling. But the boys dragged him to the club. 

But he found himself at the bar, the boys somewhere off in the club doing god knows what. He felt his phone ring for the what felt like the hundredth time today. Looking down seeing Solana was calling again. 

He silenced the phone putting it in his back pocket. His attention was grabbed by a tap on his shoulder. He turned, a grin instantly placed on his face. 

"What you doing here sitting by yourself" Skai, the new girl on the roster who was called up recently. She tilted her head playfully, a smirk visible on her face. Josh eyes scanning over her curves, dressed in a tight crop top and mini skirt. 

"Just taking a breather," Josh replied, his gaze mirroring hers, tracing the contours of her figure. "Everybody else disappeared somewhere in this chaos."

"They always do," Skai said, sliding onto the stool next to him, her hip brushing against his. "So, you're all alone?"

"Looks that way," he said, signaling the bartender for another shot.

"A shame," she murmured, her eyes never leaving his. "Someone as good-looking as you shouldn't be alone."

He chuckled, the sound low and suggestive. "And what bout you? Alone, too?"

"No," her voice low and seductive, "I was waiting for you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, leaning closer. "What we drinking?"

"Whatever you want," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "It's your night."

"Then let's make it a good one," she said, her smile widening. "I know just the place to start." She stood up, her hand sliding down his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on."

It was late at night for Solana as she got the kids down to sleep. She been running around with them from the studio, meeting up with her mom for lunch, then back home. Solana was exhausted. But the overwhelming dread loomed over her all day. 

Josh still hasn't called. If it wasn't the post she seen from fans and other sites that highlights each show Josh was in, she would be worried. 

Truthfully she was beginning to get pissed off. Josh wasn't keeping his promise he made just a little while ago. 

The phone rang, the harsh, insistent tone cutting through the quiet of her apartment. Solana walked over to her bed. Seeing Josh's picture flash across her screen, she snatched it up, her heart pounding with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Finally," she breathed, her voice tight. "Josh, where have you been? I've been calling."

A low, slightly muffled voice answered, "Hey, Sol. Sorry, baby. Been a crazy week."

"Crazy how? I've called you a dozen times," she pressed, her voice laced with worry and a hint of accusation. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice sounding distant, almost detached. "Just... a lot goin' on. Had a show last night, then the guys wanted to grab drinks."

"Drinks? Josh, really?," she said, glancing at the phone. "Is that why you haven't been answering any of my messages."

"Look, I told you, it's been hectic," he said, his tone turning slightly defensive. "My phone was on silent. I aini't even realize you been callin'."

"Silent for days?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. "Josh who you playin' with right now?"

"Solana, can we not do this right now?" he said, his voice edged with irritation. "I'm tired, I've had a long week."

"I was just worried," she said, her voice softening slightly.

"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice flat. "Just... busy."

"But you always make time," she said, her voice pleading. "Even when you're busy, you always call."

There was a brief pause, a heavy silence that hung between them. "Look," he said, his voice strained, before he could continue she heard some shuffling in the background. Followed by what seemed to be a girl's voice., "I gotta go. The guys are waiting."

"Wait, Josh—" she began, but the line went dead. The abrupt disconnect echoed in her ear, a cold, empty sound that mirrored the growing emptiness in her heart. She stared at the phone, her hand trembling, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. His excuses felt flimsy, his voice distant, and the sudden end to the call left her with a chilling sense of unease. Something was wrong, she knew it. But she couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.

The racks of brightly colored dresses blurred past as Solana and Lyra navigated the bustling boutique. Laughter echoed between them, a welcome distraction from the gnawing worry that had settled in Solana's chest. They'd been on a mission, a much-needed girls' day out, punctuated by retail therapy and endless gossip.

"And then," Lyra said, her eyes twinkling, "he tried to tell me that I had to pay for the bill. Like you invited me, you fucking kidding me?"

Solana burst into laughter, the sound genuine for the first time in days. "Oh my god, Lyra. You have to break up with him."

"I know, right?" Lyra grinned, pulling a silk scarf from a display. "But he makes a mean margarita, so... trade-offs."

They settled into a restaurant for lunch, the aroma of food filling the air. Solana, finally feeling a sense of normalcy, confided in her friend. "It's just... Josh has been so distant," she said, stirring her drink. "He hasn't called in days, and when he does, it's like he's not even there."

"That's tour life, Sol," Lyra said, her voice reassuring. "It's hectic. You know that."

"I know," Solana sighed, "but it's different this time. He just... he sounds off. And he hung up on me the other night. Like, just fucking hung up."

"That's not like him," Lyra agreed, her brow furrowed. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"When I try, he just brushes me off," Solana said, frustration creeping into her voice. "He says he's busy, that I'm overreacting. Like I'm just some crazy ass bitch."

Suddenly, her phone buzzed repeatedly, the notifications flashing across the screen. "What's all that?" Lyra asked, her eyes widening.

Solana picked up her phone, her brow furrowed. "I don't know," she said, scrolling through the notifications. "Just a bunch of fans tagging me in a post."

She tapped on one of the notifications, opening a post from a fan account. It was a blurry shot of a tattooed arm, holding a drink, the background a dimly lit bar. The caption read, Anyone else think this looks familiar?

Another tag led to a short video clip, a shaky pan of a crowded club, a familiar laugh echoing in the background. Then another, and another. Each post was a piece of a puzzle, a cryptic message that was suddenly becoming horrifyingly clear.

Solana's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What the fuck," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lyra leaned closer, her expression turning serious. "What is it, Sol?"

Solana showed her the posts, her hand trembling. "It's that new girl Skai," she said, her voice tight. "And I think it's Josh."

Lyra's eyes widened, her expression mirroring Solana's shock. "Oh, Sol," she murmured, her voice filled with sympathy. "This is... fucked up."

"I don't understand," Solana said, her voice trembling. "What the fuck is this?"

"Sol, you need to talk to him," Lyra said, her voice firm. "You need to ask him about these posts. Don't let this shit fester. You deserve answers."

Solana nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. The laughter of moments ago was gone, replaced by a cold, hard knot of fear. She knew Lyra was right. She had to confront Josh, to demand the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

The phone rang, a jarring sound that sliced through the quiet of Solana's room. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the answer button, a mix of anger and dread swirling within her. Finally, she answered, her voice cold. "What?"

"Hey baby," Josh's voice came through the line, a forced cheeriness that grated on her nerves. "You good?"

"How do you think I am?" she retorted, her voice flat. "You haven't called in days."

"I know, I know, baby, I'm sorry," he said, his tone shifting to a placating one. "It's been fuckin' crazy here. Shows every night, travel, the whole nine yards. I was actually callin' to apologize bout hangin' up like that the other night. I was tired"

"Yeah, whatever," Solana cut him off, her voice laced with acid. "You're always 'busy,' always 'tired.' It's getting old, Josh."

"What's wit' the attitude, Sol?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. 

"Attitude?" she scoffed. "Or I'm just tired of your bullshit."

"The fuck are you talkin' bout?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

"Those pictures, Josh," she said, her voice tight. "Those posts. You and Skai. Getting real cozy. Real fucking close."

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. "What pictures?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Don't play dumb," she snapped. "The ones all over Instagram. You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"Solana, you're jumpin' to conclusions," he said, his voice smooth, a practiced tone of reassurance. "Skai's just a friend. Everybody went out that night."

"A friend?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A friend you're practically glued to in every fucking picture? A friend whose captions sound like some cheap ass romance novel?"

"Look, I don't know what you seein', but you're blowin' this way out of proportion," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. "It's just social media. You know how people like to twist shit."

"Twist shit?" she said, her voice shaking with rage. "I saw the pictures, Josh. I saw the fucking videos. I'm not blind, and I ain't fucking stupid."

"Solana, you trippin' out right now," he said, his voice dismissive. "I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that."

"Do I?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She wanted to believe him, she desperately wanted to, but the images flashed in her mind, a stark contrast to his smooth words.

"Yes, you fucking do," he said, his voice hard. "You're my wife, Sol. I love you."

She hesitated, the words hanging in the air, a fragile promise that felt increasingly hollow. "I... I don't know what to believe," she said, her voice trembling.

"Just trust me," he said, his voice softening. "You know I won't lie to you."

"I... I can't do this right now," she said, her voice thick with emotion. 

"Solana—" he began, but she hung up, the sharp click echoing in her ear. She tossed the phone onto the bed, her hands shaking. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She just felt a wave of nausea and a crushing sense of betrayal.

Her phone began to ring again, Josh's name flashing across the screen. She ignored it, letting it ring until it went to voicemail. Then it rang again. And again. Finally, with a trembling hand, she switched her phone off, the sudden silence a heavy, suffocating blanket. She curled up on the bed, tears streaming down her face, the weight of his betrayal crushing her.

The movie played on, a cheerful animated world filling the living room with light and sound. Solana sat on the couch, her children nestled on either side of her, but her mind was miles away. The silence from Josh was deafening, a constant, gnawing reminder of his absence.

She idly scrolled through Instagram, trying to distract herself, when a flood of notifications appeared. Her heart skipped a beat. She was tagged in a post. Not just any post, but one from Wrestling News Now, one of the biggest wrestling news pages on the platform.

A wave of dread washed over her. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the notification, before finally tapping it. The post loaded, the headline screaming across the screen: WRESTLING SUPERSTAR JEY USO CAUGHT IN INFIDELITY SCANDAL!

Below the headline was a carousel of photos, each one a brutal blow to her already fragile heart. The first showed Josh and Skai, their hands intertwined, leaving a crowded nightclub. The second, a grainy shot taken from a distance, captured them dancing intimately, their bodies pressed close. The third, a clear, sharp photo, showed them kissing passionately in front of a hotel. The final image was a candid shot, seemingly taken in the hotel lobby window, showing them cuddled together, Skai's head resting on Josh's chest.

The comments were a mix of fan speculation and outright accusations. "Is this the end of Josh and Solana?" one fan wrote. "He's been playing her this whole tour" another commented. The comments section was a chaotic mix of shock, anger, and pity.

Solana's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. The images were undeniable, the evidence damning. The world around her seemed to fade away, the cheerful cartoon characters on the screen mocking her pain.

Her hands trembled as she scrolled through the comments, each one a sharp, stinging reminder of her public humiliation. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, a crushing weight in her chest. How could he? How could he do this to her, to their children?

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the screen. She felt a burning rage, a fierce protectiveness towards her children. She wouldn't let him do this to them. She wouldn't let him destroy their family.

She gently excused herself, leaving the room and retreating to the solitude of her bedroom. She needed to be alone, to process the shock, the pain, the betrayal. Her phone vibrated, Josh's name flashing across the screen. She stared at it, her hand trembling. She considered answering, demanding answers, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn't face him, not yet. She couldn't bear to hear his lies, his excuses.

She silenced the phone, letting it fall onto the bed. The silence was heavy, suffocating, but it was a silence she desperately needed. She curled up on the bed, her body shaking with sobs, the images of Josh and Skai burned into her mind.

The days that followed were a blur of tears, anger, and disbelief. Lyra had been a lifeline, a constant presence in the aftermath of the scandal. She'd brought over takeout, listened patiently to Solana's tearful rants, and even taken the kids off her hands, giving her precious moments of solitude.

Now, days later, a strange calm had settled over the house, a heavy, suffocating silence that hung in the air. Solana stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the countertop, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. The house felt empty, devoid of the laughter and chaos that usually filled it.

The front door creaked open, the sound echoing through the stillness. Josh stumbled in, his shoulders slumped, bags dropping with a heavy thud by the door. He scanned the living room, his eyes searching, before his gaze landed on Solana in the kitchen.

"Solana," he called out, his voice hoarse, a mix of exhaustion and desperation.

She didn't turn, didn't acknowledge him. She continued stand at the counter, her back to him, jaw clenched, her body rigid.

"Solana, please," he tried again, his voice cracking slightly.

She remained silent, her back to him, as if he were a ghost. He took a few hesitant steps closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Solana, I'm..."

He reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder, but she flinched away, her body tensing. "Don't fucking touch me," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"Sol, I need to explain," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

She finally turned, her eyes burning with a cold fury. "Explain what, Josh? Explain how you fucked another woman? Explain how you humiliated me, how you betrayed our family?"

He flinched, his face etched with pain. "I know I fucked up, Sol. I know I hurt you. I'm so fuckin' sorry. I don't know what the hell I was thinkin'."

"Don't give me that bullshit," she spat, her voice rising. "You knew exactly what the fuck you were doin'. You were enjoying every goddamn minute of it."

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "Please baby, just let me try to fix this. Let me make it right."

Solana scoffed, the sound bitter and harsh. "Fix this? You can't fix this, Josh. You broke us. You broke me."

She turned to leave, but he reached out, his hand gripping her arm. "Solana, don't walk away from me," he begged, his voice cracking. "Don't do this to us. Don't do this to our family."

That was the spark. Solana exploded.

"Don't do this to our family?!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage. "You did this to our family! Nigga you destroyed it! You and your bitch!"

He recoiled, his face paling. "Solana, please, don't say that."

"Oh, but it's okay for you to do it, right?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "It's okay for you to fuck around, to lie to my face, to treat me like I'm nothing?"

"No, Sol, that's not what I meant," he pleaded, his voice desperate. "I love you. I fucking love you. I'll do whatever to make this right. I'll quit wrestling, I'll do anything. Just please, don't leave me."

"It's too late, Josh," she said, her voice trembling, but firm. "It's too fucking late. You crossed a line, and I can't forgive you. I won't forgive you."

She pulled away from him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. "I want a divorce," she said, the words cutting through the air like a knife.

He stared at her, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "No, you don't mean that shit."

"Yes, I fucking do," she said, her voice hard. "I'm done, Josh. I'm done with the lies, I'm done with the betrayal. I'm done with you."

He reached out, his hands grasping hers, his grip tight. "Solana, please, don't do this. I'm begging you. Don't take my family away from me. I need you. I need our kids."

She looked down at his hands, his grip on her wrists, then looked back up at him, her eyes filled with a cold, unwavering resolve. "You should have thought about that before you went and fucked that bitch"

She yanked her hands away, turned, and walked away, leaving him standing there, his world crumbling around him.

The news of Solana and Josh's separation broke like a wildfire, consuming every gossip column and social media feed. Fans speculated, debated, and judged, their opinions ranging from sympathy for Solana to vitriol directed at Josh. The hashtag #TeamSolana trended worldwide, a testament to the outpouring of support for her.

Solana tried to shield her children from the storm of media attention, but the whispers and the pitying glances followed them everywhere. She focused on maintaining a sense of normalcy for Mia and Liam, filling their days with laughter and love, determined to protect their innocence as best she could.

One afternoon, Solana pulled up to the brick building. After walking in into the building, she maneuver through the long hall, going into the room she's been in for a few months now. The two lawyers, one representing Solana, the other representing Josh, already sitting at the table, their faces grim. Solana's heart sank. This was it. The official end of her marriage.

The sterile office, with its sterile white walls and minimalist decor, felt like a tomb. Solana sat opposite Josh, a chasm of unspoken words and simmering anger separating them. Her lawyer, Ms. Davis, a no-nonsense woman with a sharp gaze, sat beside her. Opposite them, Josh sat stiffly, his lawyer, Mr. Stone, a smooth-talking man with a practiced smile, at his side.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fatu," Ms. Davis began, her voice firm. "We are here to finalize the terms of the divorce. Custody of Maya and Liam will be joint, with equal time spent with both parents."

Mr. Stone nodded in agreement. "A fair and equitable arrangement for both parties."

Josh looked at Solana, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and a desperate attempt at conciliation. "Solana, I know I messed up. I'm... I'm so sorry. I want to make this as easy as possible for you and the kids."

Solana's gaze was icy. "Easy?" she repeated, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You think this can be 'easy' after what you did?"

"I know I can't undo what happened," he said, his voice low, "but I want to be a good father. I want to be there for Mia and Liam."

"Then be there," she said, her voice sharp. "That's all I ask. Be a father. I don't need your damn money." her brows furrowed.

Mr. Stone cleared his throat. "Mrs. Fatu, while we understand your emotional state, we must address the financial aspects of the divorce."

"There's nothing to address," Solana said, her voice firm. "I don't want anything from him. I make my own money. I don't need his."

Josh's eyes widened slightly. "Solana, please," he said, his voice pleading. "Let me take care of you. Let me provide for the kids."

"I can provide for my kids just fine," she retorted, her voice hard. "I don't need your damn handouts, Josh. I don't need your pity. I just want this shit to be over with."

Ms. Davis leaned forward, her expression serious. "Mrs. Fatu, while your independence is admirable, it's essential to consider the future. Child support, even if not strictly necessary, can ensure the children's continued comfort and security."

"I appreciate your concern, Ms. Davis," Solana said, her voice softening slightly, "but I'm not interested in a financial battle. I want joint custody, and I want a clean break. That's all." she stated unmoving.

Josh looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and a flicker of something akin to admiration. "Solana, please, let me do something," he pleaded. "Let me at least... help with the kids' college fund, or something."

"Fine," Solana said, her voice tight. "But that's it. Nothing else. No alimony, no settlements, no strings attached."

Mr. Stone nodded, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Very well," he said. "We can finalize the terms accordingly. Joint custody, equal time with the children, and a designated college fund contribution from Mr. Reyes. No other financial obligations."

And so, the terms were set. Solana walked out of the office, her head held high, her heart heavy, but with a newfound sense of empowerment. She had walked away from the wreckage of her marriage with her dignity intact, her independence unwavering. She would rebuild her life, not on the foundation of his wealth, but on the strength of her own talent and resilience. 

As she got into her car, the tears she'd held back finally fell. The weight of the divorce settled in, and she sobbed, a release she knew she needed. After a while, the tears subsided. She wiped her face, promising herself from that day forward, she'd put herself and her kids first.

The studio felt different now, a strange mix of familiar and alien. The air hummed with a low-grade tension, a reflection of the storm that had raged within her. Solana sat at the piano, her fingers tentatively tracing the keys, the melody of a new song swirling in her head.

"I Hate U," she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

It wasn't just a song anymore; it was an exorcism, a raw, unfiltered expression of the pain, the anger, the betrayal she had endured. Every note, every lyric, was a piece of her soul laid bare, a testament to the woman she was becoming.

Six months had passed since the divorce. Six months of healing, of rediscovering herself, of learning to navigate the complexities of single motherhood. It hadn't been easy. There were days when the grief threatened to consume her, days when the loneliness felt unbearable. But she persevered, for her children, for herself.

And now, she was back on stage, the roar of the crowd washing over her like a tidal wave. The energy was electric, a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air. They had welcomed her back with open arms, their cheers a balm to her soul.

"This next song," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "is for anyone who's ever felt lost, anyone who's ever felt broken. This song is for me."

The first notes of I Hate U filled the arena, a raw, emotional melody that resonated deep within her. As she sang, the raw emotions behind the song consumed her. The pain, the anger, the betrayal, all of it poured out with each note. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the lights, but she continued to sing, her voice raw with emotion.

The crowd, initially stunned by her vulnerability, fell silent, a hush descending upon the arena. Then, slowly, tentatively, they began to sing along, their voices a chorus of support, of understanding. With each verse, the energy in the room shifted, transforming from a concert into a collective catharsis. Solana, lost in the music, felt a sense of release, a sense of liberation. She was no longer just a victim, she was a survivor. She was stronger than she ever thought she could be.

As the final notes faded, the crowd erupted in applause, a thunderous ovation that shook the very foundations of the arena. Solana stood at the edge of the stage, tears streaming down her face, but this time, they were tears of joy, tears of triumph. She had faced her demons, she had bared her soul, and she had come out stronger, more resilient than ever before.

And in that moment, she knew that she was finally free.

If you would like to leave a request go comment on this link post. Check out my master list for other one shots and my other stories.

Tag list: if you want to be added to the tag list comment below!

@xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld

#jey uso#jey uso smut#jey uso x black fem oc#jey uso x black oc#jey uso x black reader#jeyuso#main event jey uso#wwe

[causenessus]

for your event, can I request suna with ⭐️ and 🍳? :D

almond butter. | suna r.

suna x f!reader

written in 2nd pov and it tore me to shreds

prompts from 1k followers event -> ⭐ -> insomnia & 🍳 -> cooking

"you've adored me before, oh my good looking boy." from good looking (stripped) by suki waterhouse

word count: 1.1k words

notes: fluff <333 i can't help talking about how hot and sexy this man is everytime i write for him i am so in love with him i am barking from him HHHHH— suna being a good boyfriend and brother!!! i love this man to bits and pieces <3 1K WRITING EVENT IS BACK IN SESSION!!! AND SO AM I!! NESS!! FOR A SINGLE DAY!! WITH CRAPPY WRITING!! i'm obsessed with him and him only using petnames and also i see this as a scenario being quite early into your relationship with him <3 and basically this being the first time he says "i love you" to you (without realizing it) and you realizing you love him (and being too sleepy to say it)(this makes more sense once you read the drabble)

mango anon, if you see this <3 this is us <3 this is me making u almond butter toast <3

cw: food, talk about food chemistry and how your brain converts food to melatonin using carbs yay science! work is not exactly proofread

you’ve been waiting in your living room for the past 10 minutes.

well, actually, you’ve been waiting for the past two hours to go to sleep but your brain won't let you, no matter how tired you feel.

finally giving up any chance of falling asleep soon in your bed, you let the screen of your phone blind you as you shoot a quick text to your boyfriend:

y/n : taro are you awake? i can’t sleep :( insomnia’s kicking my ass again

you collapse back onto your pillow, throwing your phone haphazardly to your side with a groan. almost immediately, your head pops back up again at the sound of a buzz, and you blindly reach for your phone, looking at its screen.

rin <3 : yeah i am

rin <3 : give me 10 min

you weren’t entirely sure what he had meant by that; if he was busy, and would reply again in 10 minutes or if he was coming over.

you hoped it was the latter, but you'd find out soon enough. in the meantime, you moved to your living room, curled up on your couch under a heavy blanket, dimly lit by the warm light of a nearby lamp as you watched the seconds go by on your phone.

you always slept better with him, whether he was holding you in his arms or he was just simply in the room with you, it felt nice to be in his presence. just the thought of him was slowly making your eyes start to droop before the sound of the door unlocking made you perk up.

there he was, gently swinging your door open, a white plastic bag in hand. his yellow eyes fell on you as you looked him up and down, obviously judging his poor taste in clothing (sweats and a t-shirt) despite it being the middle of winter.

“hi baby,” he whispers, kicking off his shoes before immediately making a beeline towards you. you were peeking out from over the arm of your couch, and he knelt on the floor at the side of the couch, chin propped against the arm of it where you were, leaning in towards your face. there was a smile on his own as he spoke, “don’t fall asleep now, i just got here.”

you can only sigh quietly in response, happy to finally see him. “can’t help it,” you mumble, “‘was thinking of you.”

his smile only grows at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting a hand run down the side of your face, caressing it carefully. “you’re cute when you’re tired, doll,” he teases as you lean into his touch, too tired to even respond. “at least let me take care of you before you fall asleep though, yeah? i went to the store for you after all.”

“you didn’t have to buy me anything,” you whisper, reaching an arm out to him, trying to get him to join you on the couch.

he grabs your hand, rubbing a thumb lovingly over the back of it, but doesn’t let you pull him down, “of course i’ll buy you things, y/n. i love you. can i make you something to eat?”

you hum in thought, thinking about if you really want to allow him to move you, but when he tugs gently at your arm, you get up (begrudgingly) bringing your blanket with you to the kitchen.

you rest your arms on the counter you’re sitting at, lazily watching his figure move through your kitchen, pulling items out of his bag. “what’re you doing?” you eventually question, eyeing his selection of groceries with confusion. the jug of milk you can understand, but not the jar of what you assume to be jam and a nut butter.

“‘making you toast,” he answers, rummaging through your drawers for a knife, “my sister used to have trouble sleeping sometimes too, and she’d always wake me up instead of our mom so i had to figure out what helped.”

“and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are supposed to help you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting up to rest your head on your hand as you watch him pull a plate from your cupboard.

the bread he dropped into your toaster pops back up as he corrects you, “almond butter. my sister hates peanut butter, and rightfully so. almonds are better.” he continues talking as he places the toasted bread on the plate he grabbed, “i had to google what kind of foods you should eat when you can’t sleep and it’s the first suggestion i saw. the almonds have something in them that gets converted to melatonin using the carbs from the bread and jam, or something like that.”

you nod along like you really care about whatever science he’s rambling about when really, all you can pay attention to is how nice his voice is. ever since he entered your apartment, you’ve realized how much he was all you needed to sleep. you’re slowly getting more attached to him and the longer you date him, the more sure you are that you love him, too.

he slips into the seat next to you, sliding the plate of toast over to you. you mumble a small thanks, biting into the sandwich before opting to lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder while the rest of your body is wrapped in the heavy blanket you brought from your couch.

you hum in satisfaction, deciding that maybe rintarou was right about whatever science is behind the contents of this sandwich, or maybe he just needs to research the effect he has on you. you’re sure just being in his presence is sending melatonin straight to your brain–or however he said that works. “rin,” you hum, eyes closed as you remain leaning against him.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he asks. one of his arms has moved to wrap around your back, holding you close while one of his fingers grazes the skin of your arm, drawing lazy circles onto it.

“will you stay the night, too?” you ask, taking another bite of the sandwich.

he can’t help but smile, watching you snuggle up against him, scooting your chair and plate closer to him, closing the gap between you two. “of course, love, if that’s what you want,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

you nod in response to the statement, holding up your sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite of. “you're good at making sandwiches, but i think all i need is you to fall asleep,” you mumble tiredly and he chuckles.

“if you fall asleep here, i’ll have to carry you to your bed, you know,” he warns, but you're already drifting in and out of sleep, the plate on the table in front of you both now empty, besides a few crumbs of bread.

“that’s okay,” you try to say, fighting a losing battle against the sleep that's slowly overtaking you. “you can do it,” your last words of encouragement make his heart twist before your head lolls slightly, and he knows you’ve knocked out.

taglist: @akaakeis @wyrcan @daisy-room @eggyrocks @cheriisae @alexithemiyatic @kameyyy @iiwaijime @chaotic-neutral-ig @bakery-anon @kakeru-eem

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 30 - Silver

“Good morning, my love,” John sighed, beside his head. “Happy Birthday.”

“Mmmm,” Sherlock sighed into his pillow. “Morning.”

“How about I make some breakfast for the birthday boy?” He kissed Sherlock’s curls and then another on his shoulder blade before sliding out of bed.

“Joooohhhhn,” Sherlock moaned, turning over. “Where are you going?”

“Come on, you. I have plans,” John said impatiently. “Get yourself up and I’ll make those eggs you like.”

Sherlock flipped back onto his front, burying his head into his pillow. He lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of John rustling around in the kitchen. He could almost fall back to sleep if he just settled back down the right way. He tried fluffing his pillow and pulling the blanket just right. But now that he was listening to John, he wanted to be near him again. He had never realised just how obsessive he could be about another human being but ever since Christmas, ever since they had crossed into this new territory, life had finally felt like it had all fallen into place, like everything had suddenly become colourful. His heart was overflowing with so much love.

With a heavily annoyed groan, he got himself up, put his dressing gown on and padded to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder he decided to freshen up, wash his face and tidy his hair to look nice, to wake up properly so he could greet John with more enthusiasm. He got  out his skin care and worked on his face. Then he grabbed his comb to tidy up his curls. When he looked back into the mirror, he suddenly let out a blood curdling shriek.

He heard John drop something in the kitchen which shattered on the floor and then John came running in.

“Sherlock?! Are you okay?! What is it?” John cried out, worried.

“John! Look!” he moaned. “Look!”

“What exactly am I looking at?” John asked, frozen in the doorway trying to understand, looking for signs of bleeding.

“My hair John. I have a silver strand! A grey hair, John!”

John sighed and collapsed heavily back against the door frame, rubbing his hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, I thought you’d sliced your face open shaving or something.”

“But John…” Sherlock pouted, expecting a bigger reaction to the news.

“Welcome to the old boys club,” John simply said with a sigh. “Mine’s been getting greyer for months. Are you going to lose interest in me because of it?”

“Of course not,” Sherlock scoffed.

“Exactly.” John gave him a smug expression.

Sherlock still sulked and fussed at the mirror “Come and check for more. I want you to pull them out of my head. Will you?”

John just stood at the door frame looking at him lovingly in silence. “I’m going to marry you,” he said gently.

“What?” Sherlock spun around.

John grinned. “Yep. I’m going to whisk you off to the countryside and marry you. Not today, obviously. Don’t worry. But one day. I definitely will.”

Sherlock paused, letting the thought jiggle around in his brain for a moment. “Is that right?” he finally asked, gently smiling as he walked over to John. He needed to look right into those eyes and judge how serious he was.

“Mmm-hmmm.” John let out a contended sigh. “And until then, you will just have to get used to becoming all distinguished and silver. Like your father.”

“Oh dear god,” Sherlock moaned, collapsing against John.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” John said, laughing at his ridiculous partner.

“I hardly think eggs count as a surprise, John. You told me already.”

“Not the eggs, you twat, there’s something else. Come with me.” He grabbed Sherlock’s hand and led him into the kitchen. “Just watch out for the broken china. And ignore the fact that it may have been your favourite mug. I’ll tidy it up in a moment,” he said in a flurry before Sherlock could register it. “Now sit.”

Sherlock sat himself down at the table, looking a little stunned. Until he saw it. On his plate, were not the eggs yet, but an envelope. “What’s this?”

“Well go on.” John pointed at it to encourage him.

Sherlock opened the envelope and read the card inside. It was a cryptic clue. He had already solved it of course, within seconds but he sat there holding the card in his hands, his mouth open in surprise. His fingers stroked the card and he found himself getting a little emotional. “It’s a treasure hunt?” he asked, finally looking up at John.

John shrugged. “I did have to ask your brother for some pointers and I can't promise to be as smart or as cryptic as him. I'm going to have to learn my way around this,” John said, already apologising for his clumsy version, and blushing slightly. “But yes, I am going to make you work for your presents.”

“You’re already the best present,” Sherlock sighed, smiling up at him.

John paused and smiled. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that aloud,” he laughed. “Sherlock Holmes, you’re getting soppy on me.”

“No, I’m not!” he rushed to protest.

“Yes. Yes you are,” John teased. “One silver strand of hair and now you’re all soppy. You’re old and sentimental.”

“Shut up!”

“I love you,” John sighed happily.

“I know. And I love you,” Sherlock rushed to say.

“I know. Now, let me finish your eggs. Once you’ve eaten, we can do the treasure hunt.”

“The day you walked into that lab, was the very best day of my life,” Sherlock sighed.

John smiled and they both just held each other’s gaze for a moment. John leaned in and kissed him gently and then pulled away. “See? Old and soppy,” he teased. He gave Sherlock a little swat on his arm and laughed as he walked back to the counter to finish making breakfast. “Besides," he added. "I’m pretty sure in the last week, you’ve had some days… and nights, that might be better than me walking into the lab and offering you a phone. Don’t you think?” He gave Sherlock a cheeky wink.

Yes, the last week had definitely had some pretty incredible days. And nights. Sherlock’s mind quickly found a few of his favourites in the catalogue of his mind palace, and replayed them as he waited in silence for breakfast. Some very passionate, and steamy moments.

I’m going to marry you.

John’s words suddenly floated back into Sherlock’s head, and the silver strand of hair was long forgotten. He didn’t care about that, if he had his doctor, his blogger, his friend by his side for the rest of his life. Sherlock relaxed back in his chair and sighed to himself. He couldn’t have planned for things to go any better. If he had asked his brother to manipulate a scenario such as this, with all his resources, it never would have been this perfect.

In the end, things had worked out exactly as they needed to. Eventually.

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart 

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear 

@starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78 

@kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes

@battledress @kholkate @randomquadballpun 

@sillygirlsmindpalace @johnlockficclub @rainstarboii @bheadhe

@wssh13 @br-nz @solarmama-plantsareneat @givemesherbet-blog-blog

@dw91165 @pileofstardust2106 @moonkeller @surprisinglyokay @r4venlyn  

@therealalexisamess-blog @e-b1838 @rhasima @salmonsown @tropelovingpainter 

@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me @sherlocke3d

@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

thank you for the tags @joelsgoldrush @eupheme @elflutter @joelsdagger & @sceletaflores!! i didn't do this last week cause i was thoroughly exhausted but i am very excited about what's cooking in my drafts this week!

Hopelessly Devoted To You

A shove against his chest had him stumbling towards the door, your entire body being used like a counterweight to push him out. He fell into the hallway with a grunt, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip to silence the laughter that threatened to echo off the empty walls. This wasn't an unusual position to find yourselves in—fighting like children who each held onto one end of a life altering secret.

Nights spent in the comfort of your home in high school with Eddie forced to sleep on the floor (per your mother's instructions) lead to picking on one another until the other caved. A past time you often ached to get back.

Maybe that's why you couldn't stop smiling at the sight of him trying to cling to the edge of your doorway. Maybe that's why your heart was set to burst when he snuck back in to simply hear you shout his name.

Two humans helplessly gone for one another with nothing to show for it but a lifetime of friendship. Never meant to be more than this.

"Night kitten!" he called from his room, the door shutting with a soft thud as you slipped beneath the thick comforter.

"Goodnight Eddie," you sighed, settled atop the mountain of pillows, your eyes fixed on the frame a few feet away.

The smiling image of younger you mocked the current situation; her haughty demeanor formed a sour pit in your stomach, your body desperate to curl in on itself the longer you stared at the past. You were so naive back then. Ready and willing to jump when Eddie gave you the go ahead. But what's changed? How had you moved away from that young hopeless girl? You still gave into his pleas, you relinquished your strength and handed it over without taking a second to think perhaps you should have considered the fallout.

Eddie said jump.

And suddenly you found yourself in New York.

Still naive. Still hopelessly in love with a man who might never see you as anything other that highschool girl. The kitten who trailed after him looking for an owner who might show you some love, who might spare you a second glance.

"Pathetic," you muttered, flipping to your other side in the hopes that sleep would find you.

The creak of your partially shut door is what roused you from a restless and fitful two hours of chasing sleep to no avail. Your eyes cracked open in the pitch black, body rolling to see the kitchen light illuminate a rather tall and shirtless Eddie. He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes bleary with lack of sleep, and wordlessly you pulled the blankets back to the empty side on your right.

A smile curled on his lips, lazy and barely there, but it lit you up from the inside out—his feet softly padding on the cement floor as he stumbled through the room. Unsuccessfully if the whispered cuss word muttered under his breath after hitting his leg was anything to go by. You hid your grin beneath the edge of the comforter, feeling the bed dip when he shuffled to find the comfiest spot.

"'S fucking cold in here," he mumbled, shoving the blanket up to his neck.

"It's your apartment."

"Yeah, yeah. Just c'mere." He sighed, long and bordering on defeat. "I missed you."

He didn't give you the option of backing out, his hands grasping blindly for your waist. Of course, you didn't put up much of a fight either. The bed felt desolate in his absence. As if it'd been waiting for him all this time—hoping he might come to fill the gaps where frigid air seeped through. Somehow Eddie remained your knight in shining armor. Your savior against the horrors no matter how minuscule.

Dark bedrooms and empty beds included.

Silence swept over you in gentle soothing waves. The promise of sleep settled contently in your grasp, allowing you a moment to finally rest for the first time since you got on that plane. But you couldn't find it in you to close your eyes. Instead you let your gaze wander over Eddie's face as he sunk into the depths of sleep—his hand clasped in yours and settled between your bodies.

"Hey Eddie," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"I missed you too."

tagging: @ovaryacted @silverskyeline @guiltyasdave @superhoeva @zloshy

[bitchinbarzal]

Hey:) idk if this one would count as a for the AU, but maybe one day Keller and Kaia have a date night for anniversary and Coole, Kess and Doan babysit El? It would be fun I believe, and as El has a crush on Kess :)

Clayton had one rule when it came to Elodie:

She had to be in good hands when he and Kaia weren’t around.

Which was why it had taken a lot of convincing for him to agree to leaving their daughter with these particular babysitters.

Logan Cooley.

Michael Kesselring.

Josh Doan.

Three of Clayton’s teammates.

Three fully grown children pretending to be adults.

Three guys he wasn’t entirely sure could even take care of themselves, let alone his four-year-old daughter.

But Elodie?

Elodie was thrilled.

“Daddy, it’s gonna be so fun!” she had beamed, bouncing on the couch while Clayton narrowed his eyes at the three grinning idiots standing in his living room.

Kaia, who had been struggling to hold back laughter for the last ten minutes, simply pressed a kiss to Clayton’s cheek and muttered, “It’ll be fine. They’re hockey players, not completely useless.”

Clayton wasn’t convinced.

The second Kaia and Clayton left, Elodie turned to her new babysitters with wide eyes and a smirk.

“Okay,” she said, hands on her hips, her curly hair bouncing with each dramatic movement. “Here are the rules.”

Josh blinked, pointing at himself. “Uh, shouldn’t we be the ones giving the rules?”

“No,” Elodie said immediately, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Rule number one: I get to pick the movie.”

“Sounds fair,” Logan shrugged. “I like kid movies.”

“Rule number two:” she continued, stepping closer to Michael, her big brown eyes shining in admiration. “Kess is in charge of the popcorn.”

Josh and Logan both choked back laughs as Michael grinned down at her. “You got it, E.”

Elodie beamed, clasping her hands behind her back, staring at him like he hung the moon.

And just like that, the night of chaos officially began.

Things Go… Off the Rails

• Logan was the designated “fun uncle”—which meant he let Elodie do whatever she wanted. At one point, he was chasing her through the house with a pillow, yelling, “I AM THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED!”

• Josh tried to get her to eat actual food, which resulted in Elodie hiding behind Michael, clinging to his legs, whispering, “Don’t let him get me.”

• Michael was Elodie’s clear favorite, which meant whenever the boys told her “no,” she just turned to him with big eyes, pouted, and whispered, “But Kess, pleeeease?”

• Michael caved every single time.

• By the time the movie started, Elodie had somehow convinced Michael to let her wear his hat, which was so big on her that it kept falling over her eyes.

• Josh finally gave up on trying to control the situation and just sat back with a bowl of popcorn, muttering, “We’re never getting asked to babysit again.”

By the time Kaia and Clayton returned, the house was a disaster zone.

Popcorn was everywhere.

The coffee table had a pile of candy wrappers.

Logan was half-asleep on the couch, snoring.

Josh was giving Clayton a look that screamed “never again.”

And Elodie?

Elodie was fast asleep, curled up in Michael’s lap, wearing his hat, her tiny hand still clutching his hoodie.

Clayton stared at the scene for a long moment, then turned to Kaia, deadpan.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Kaia bit her lip to keep from laughing. “She looks happy.”

“She’s literally in love with Kess,” Logan mumbled, barely lifting his head. “Like, actual heart eyes.”

“She is not—” Clayton started, but then Elodie stirred slightly, sighing in her sleep, and mumbled, “Kess is the best…”

Clayton’s entire soul left his body.

Kaia wheeze-laughed, leaning into him for support as he just stood there, jaw clenched, face in his hands, muttering, “This is my worst nightmare.”

Michael just shrugged, still carefully adjusting Elodie’s blanket around her. “Can’t help it if I’m the favorite, Kells.”

“Get out of my house.”

Josh wheeze-laughed, Logan threw a pillow at Michael, and Kaia wiped tears of laughter from her eyes as Clayton dramatically paced around the room, mourning his fate.

Because clearly, his biggest competition for Elodie’s heart wasn’t another kid at school.

It was Michael Kesselring.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Misty Morning Respite

Pairing: Astarion x Aelene

Word Count: 1k

Author's Note:

Surpriiiiiiiise @charlenestrawart !!! 🥰😁 This is my gift to you for the Astarion Brainrot Discord autumn exchange! I used the "foggy mornings" and "soft blankets" prompts, and I really hope you enjoy it. ❤️ It's been WILD trying to keep this a secret from you, but I'm so glad I got to write for you and your beautiful tav, Aelene. I love you, friend!! 🥹

♡ ♡ ♡

The slow coming of morning filtered through the thin curtains of the Last Light Inn, but for the first time in 210 years, Astarion was not concerned. The gauzy cotton did little to hide his pallor skin from the slowly rising sun, but instead of scurrying to the far side of the bed or ducking beneath the covers, he lazily lifted his hand to the still-bluish glow, and admired the iron ring on his third finger. The crimson stone that sat at its center cast a ghostly shadow on the wall of the room, not yet glittering due to the clouded, dewy sky. A soft smile tugged at his pink lips, still plush from the previous night’s activities. He cast a glance down beside him to the woman resting in his arms. Her snow white hair fell over her face like a blanket, covering her wintery skin and most of her shimmering silver scales.

He took a moment to simply admire her as she slept, curled around him tightly, seeking the familiar comfort of his cold body. She had risked her life to acquire the ring he now wore. She had tangled with death to help him become a victor over the sun. She had done it with little more benefit to herself than having him beside her. She not only sought his freedom, she now also sought his joy; and gods had she found it. He chuckled quietly, imperceptible to the untrained ear, but his lover stirred slightly nonetheless, ever so used to his sounds that even in her sleep, she perceived them. He quieted, not wanting to wake her yet. The lines of stress and pain from the past still haunted her face sometimes - when he did not manage to kiss them away - , but in sleep she held none of that tension; slack-faced and innocent as she dreamed.

Gently, he brushed strands of hair from her face to reveal her angular scales; so light and metallic that they almost reflected his red eyes gazing down at her. It was fitting, he thought, that the stone in the ring that would allow him to walk in the sun again would match both his own eyes and the eyes of his lover. It seemed meant to be… like fate. He smiled, and another chuckle escaped him that the idea of fate - something he had always hated so desperately - would finally grant him kindness after 200 years. A second sound from him would not go unnoticed by his sleeping lover, and a pitiful whimper came from her throat as she slowly gained awareness.

“Good morning, darling,” Astarion murmured, swooping down to kiss her lips before her eyes opened. She hummed against his lips and smiled, her hands wandering up around his neck.

“Mmm, good morning, Astarion,” Aelene muttered against his mouth, tangling her fingers in his locks as she did.

“Now, my love, you can’t be too greedy before you eat something,” he tutted quietly, all the while, his fingers traced patterns on her bare thigh beneath the velvety blankets she had insisted on buying once they returned to Baldur’s Gate with their prize. “You must replenish your energy if you’re to keep up with me.”

She giggled softly, urging closer to him, as if she could meld with him completely. “Can’t you feed me once I’m well and truly spent?”

“I am not hand feeding you again. You bit me last night!” her lover balked in return, only half joking.

“You bite me all the time!” she rebutted, her laugh growing louder.

“I ask, darling.”

“Then may I please bite your pretty fingers while you feed me?” Aelene batted her sleepy eyes at him, and he chortled.

“Hmm,” he pondered, a finger coming to his lips. “Since you asked so nicely… no.”

“Astarion!” she laughed, her head thrown back against the pillows, and Astarion grinned down at her.

“Come on, darling. I want to enjoy my first sunrise in 210 years, with you.” He booped her nose gently with his index finger and she beamed up at him, her carmine eyes twinkling.

“Well, how could I say no to that?”

~ ~ ~

Moments later, they were dressed and leaving their room behind, blankets folded into packs and food for the road stuffed into pockets. The sky had begun to turn a rosy gold by the time Aelene and Astarion had settled beneath a large oak tree just outside the limits of the city, at a vantage point high enough to be unobstructed by the goings-on of the everyday folk nearby. Aelene had snuck under Astarion’s arm once again and was gently playing with his fingers as the rising sun vaporized the fog that still lingered on the damp grass. She cared little for the sunrise; she’d seen hundreds. Her focus was on her lover’s face. She allowed her head to fall against his shoulder as his glittering red-wine eyes stayed trained on the coming day; his eyebrows raised, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. He looked so young.

As the sun broke through the clouds of the morning, the sky erupted into brilliant shades of orange, red, and yellow, painting the clouds with vibrancy, and Astarion - her Astarion - looked on in captivated wonder. His eyes widened as he took it in, the sunrises he had seen in his time with the tadpole not even daring to compare to this. Aelene’s heart clenched as she watched a tear chase the length of Astarion’s beautiful face, another following close behind; and another, and another. His vision misted completely, and he brought his palm to his face, a sob wracking through him. Aelene’s hands came to rest atop his and he allowed her to move them, smiling through tears as she swept away his overflowing awe with her fingertips, kissing each place they had previously been as she went.

They watched the rest of the sunrise in silence, wrapped tightly in one another, and as the sky turned to its mid-morning blue, Astarion curled his fingers under Aelene’s chin and turned her to face him. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered softly, his eyes more tender than she had ever seen them. She rested her forehead against his, bumping his nose gently.

“I love you, Astarion.”

A beat of silence passed before he smiled.

“I love you, more.”

~

fin

[makehydrafictionagain]

Public Relations: Foundations- Ch. 1 Pt. 2 (MCU x Reader)

Note: Hehehe

Summary: Just a simple day as a clerical Avenger.

If you didn't read PR:AOU, then I suggest you do, as this is the sequel! Here is the link where you can find the entire series. <3

June 1, 2015

The room was still dim.

You were curled up in bed, clinging to the last remnants of sleep. It was the first morning in weeks that you didn’t have to wake up to press events, high-profile meetings, or some sort of battle you were highly unqualified to partake in.

You had earned this.

You had earned a slow morning, a peaceful-

The door to your bedroom flew open.

"Rise and shine, _____."

You groaned into your pillow as Romanoff, Agent of Chaos, strolled in like she owned the place.

"You have about ten seconds before I drag you out of that bed myself," Natasha announced, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway.

You cracked one eye open, glaring. "How the hell did you get in here?"

Natasha smirked, approaching the side of your bed. “You really think I don’t know how to pick a lock?"

"That’s concerning."

"Only for you," she quipped, reaching over and yanking the blanket off of you.

You gasped as the cool air hit your skin. "Nat, what the hell?!"

"Training. Now," Natasha said, completely unfazed.

You groaned louder this time, flopping dramatically onto your back. "I am not an Avenger. I am a PR manager. I manage. I strategize. I do not-"

"-Make excuses?" Natasha finished, arching a brow.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your face as your eyes adjusted to the light of your clock. "It's six in the morning."

"Six-oh-four, actually. You’re late."

"Late to what?!"

"Your training schedule," Natasha said simply, like it was obvious. "The one I made for you."

You shot up in bed. "You made me a schedule?"

"You think I’m just going to let you sit behind a desk forever?" Natasha smirked. "Come on, _____. We both know you like being useful. You can strategize all you want, but if you ever get into a situation where you're out in the field, I’d rather you not die in the first thirty seconds."

You scowled. "I lasted long enough last time."

Natasha grinned. "Up."

You grumbled under your breath, but knew there was no escaping this. You threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood, your muscles already protesting the mere idea of what was coming. 

"I hate you."

Natasha patted you on the shoulder. "You’ll love me by the time we’re done."

-

By the time you were dressed and made it to the training room, half awake and running on sheer spite, Natasha was already waiting, stretching like this was just another casual morning.

The training area was spacious, lined with sleek mats and reinforced walls, designed to handle super-powered individuals- not a semi-athletically active public speaker.

"Alright, let’s start simple," Natasha said the second you entered, motioning you toward her.

You rolled your shoulders, already feeling moderately regretful of your life choices. "Simple sounds good."

Natasha smirked. "Great. Hit me."

You blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. Hit me."

You narrowed your eyes. This was a trap.

"You are aware that I’m not Steve, right? I do not possess veins full of super serum or unbreakable bones," you pointed out, full of attitude.

Natasha raised an unimpressed brow. "Then you should probably hit harder."

“Alright, but if I have to go to Dr. Cho about my shoulder again…” You sighed and shook out your hands. 

You had some training- Maria had taught you how to handle yourself in a fight, and you had continued keeping yourself physically fit after your time at SHIELD… but this was different. Natasha was built for this. Literally. 

I’m about to get my ass kicked.

You lunged, throwing a decent punch.

Natasha dodged easily.

"Slow," she commented.

Okay, rude.

You exhaled sharply, adjusting your footing. You swung again- faster this time.

Natasha deflected it like it was nothing.

"You’re hesitating."

You glared. "I'm assessing."

"Same thing," Natasha shot back.

You tried again, aiming for a feint before pivoting, attempting to catch Natasha off guard.

Of course it didn’t work.

Before you could even process what happened, you were flat on your back. The landing was softer than you expected, your breath was still in your chest and you didn’t feel the ache your muscles had instinctively braced for. She went easy on you.

"Ow."

"Better," Natasha allowed, standing over you, one foot on either side of your waist. "But you’re still thinking too much."

You groaned. "Thinking is literally my job."

"Not when you’re fighting. Instinct, _____."

You exhaled slowly, pushing yourself up. Without hesitation, she charged at you.

Ow.

-

Half an hour later, you were sweating, exhausted, and fully convinced Natasha was actually trying to kill you.

And then, of course, Steve showed up.

At the most (im)perfect time, while you were mid-flip, upside down, milliseconds away from hitting the mat, you look toward the door and see him.

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, amusement evident on his face. "How’s it going?"

You, panting on the floor, shot him the deadliest glare you could muster.

Steve smirked down at you. "You look like you're having fun."

Natasha put her fists on her hips and gleamed. “I am.” Steve looked to her and let out a subdued chuckle.

"Oh, this is good," Sam grinned, stepping in behind Steve with a cup of iced coffee, topped with a surprising amount of whipped cream. "How long has this been going on?"

Natasha, completely unfazed, glanced at the clock. "Thirty-five minutes."

Sam whistled. "She still alive?"

"Barely," you muttered, rolling onto your stomach and pulling yourself up to your knees.

Sam took a long sip of his coffee, nodding in appreciation. "Good work, Romanoff."

“Good work Romanoff?” You huffed out, steadying yourself to your feet and pushing the baby hairs from your forehead.

Natasha smirked. "She’s got potential." You rolled your eyes in exasperation and turned around, catching your breath.

Steve, still watching incredibly closely as you walked around, tilted his head. "You’re actually doing well."

You stared at him, utterly betrayed.

"Well?!" He shrugged defensively.

"She’s keeping up," Natasha shrugged. "Better than I expected, honestly."

Thanks?

"I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned."

"Both," Natasha said easily, grabbing your hips and repositioning them, then your elbows, then your shoulders. Your focus was brought back to Natasha almost instantly. 

Maybe you weren’t hating it all that much.

Sam chuckled, nudging Steve. "Man, you are so lucky she likes you. Otherwise, I think she’d murder you for watching this."

Steve, still smirking, lowered his voice a little. "She’s doing great."

-

After Natasha graciously decided that you had suffered enough (for now), she finally allowed you to crawl back to your room to clean up before their first team meeting since the PR tour ended.

Your body ached in a way that was almost comical.

You’ve been sore before- Sokovia had taken a piece of you, both physically and emotionally. But at least then you had adrenaline, survival instinct, and feral willpower carrying you through.

This?

This was pain with no purpose. No crisis, no battle, no threat- just Natasha Romanoff and her relentless training routine that left you feeling like you had personally offended her in a past life.

I bet she kicked my ass in that life, too.

After you managed to shower, you threw on your softest pair of leggings and an over-sized pajama shirt, a clear silent protest against the hell you had just endured.

Fuck it, if I don’t get to sleep in, I’m sure as hell not dressing up for these jerks.

Your muscles protested every step as you made your way through the Compound, and the thought of sitting through a two-hour long meeting made you want to cry.

But at least you could sit down.

I’ll take that one win.

-

When you walked in most of the team was already gathered.

Steve stood near the front of the room, the picture of ease and quiet leadership, flipping through his notes. He looked up when you entered, eyes scanning you instinctively, as if already assessing whether you were okay.

I am NOT okay.

You shot him a look that was both threatening and inadvertently flirtatious, he smirked just enough for you to want to throw something at him.

Throw myself at him.

Shut up, oh, my god.

Rhodey was seated near the projector, a stack of reports beside him that just looked like they were going to give you a headache. 

Sam was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed while Wanda sat quietly near the side, occasionally glancing over at you with a quiet smile.

Natasha, completely unaffected by the fact that she had just spent an hour and a half actively ruining your life, was also seated, flipping through her own notes as if nothing had happened.

And then there was Vision. Just… floating.

Because of course he is.

You dropped into a chair, trying not to wince aloud at the soreness in your muscles.

"Are you wearing pajamas to a meeting?" Sam asked, raising an instigatory brow.

You, without missing a beat, shot back, "You saw me in tights and a sports bra earlier. You're lucky you even have eyes to see my work pajamas."

Natasha grinned into her coffee mug.

Steve, clearly biting back a laugh, just shook his head.

"Fair enough," Sam muttered, moving his attention to Rhodey hoping to stifle his own laughter.

Steve looked at you again, this time with genuine concern. "You good?"

Instead of responding, you shot him a faux angry expression, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the smile from showing.

Steve smirked, but before he could respond, Rhodey mercifully took control of the meeting.

"As you all know," he started, his voice the perfect mix of military authority and ‘I have dealt with too much nonsense in my life’ energy, "we have a responsibility to ensure that the Compound remains one of the most secure locations in the world."

You nodded along. This was standard stuff; security protocols, monitoring unauthorized access, ensuring classified information remained classified.

It was all going well until he clicked to the next slide, revealing a graph labeled: ‘Security Breach Analysis: Causes.’

Your eyebrow raised immediately.

Rhodey exhaled and pointed at the screen. "I’d like to direct everyone’s attention to Exhibit A."

Sam leaned forward, already smirking. "Oh, boy."

You squinted at the graph. The leading cause of security breaches was…

"Friendly Fire?"

Rhodey nodded, deadpan. "I would like to note that, according to the compiled data, 74% of our security issues in the last month were caused by our own people."

Steve, completely unbothered, just nodded. "That seems accurate."

"DOES IT?" Rhodey said, exasperated.

You closed your lips tight to stop the laugh from escaping your bruised ribs.

"Let’s review," Rhodey continued, clicking to the next slide. "Incident One: Sam bypasses security clearance to sneak in post-mission takeout."

Sam raised his hands. "Look, I was doing everyone a favor."

Damn right.

"Did you need to reroute security drones for that?" Rhodey deadpanned.

Sam shrugged. "I mean, I could have let them scan the food. Didn’t want to risk them vaporizing the dumplings, though."

You snorted.

Rhodey ignored him and continued. "Incident Two: Steve sets off multiple alarms because he refuses to carry his security badge."

Steve, completely unbothered, leaned back in his chair. "They should recognize me by now."

"Steve," Rhodey said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sam barked a laugh.

Before Rhodey could move on, he paused, glancing around the room.

His expression softened just slightly as he looked at you and Wanda.

"You know," he said, "I’d just like to point out that the only people here who haven’t caused a security breach are Wanda and _____."

Sam let out an exaggerated gasp. "Are you saying they’re better than us?"

"Obviously," Rhodey shot back.

Steve glanced at you, his lips quirking up slightly. "That’s fair."

You, still exhausted but definitely amused, leaned back in your chair. "Finally. Some recognition."

“Standing ovations after your speeches isn’t enough recognition?” Natasha looked over at you with a cute twinkle in her eye and a sarcastic smirk on her mouth, earning a friendly eye-roll from you.

Rhodey smirked. "Don’t get too comfortable. You’re just less of a problem than the rest of them."

Sam, offended, crossed his arms. "I feel like this is favoritism."

"It is favoritism," Rhodey admitted. "They’re the only two I don’t have to babysit."

You grinned, enjoying this far too much.

Wanda, still quiet but definitely smirking, muttered, "We try our best."

Sam groaned. "Unbelievable."

Rhodey clicked to the final point, looking directly at Vision. "And finally. Incident Three: Vision phases through walls without warning, repeatedly triggering lock-down protocols."

Vision, hovering mid-air, tilted his head. "I fail to see why this is an issue."

"It’s an issue, Vision," Rhodey sighed, "because when anyone else phases through a wall, it means we have an intruder. You singlehandedly caused three security lock-downs last week."

Vision blinked and nodded once. "A fair point."

Rhodey sighed, flipping to the final slide labeled ‘Solutions.’ 

"Moving forward, please use your security clearance correctly. Steve, carry your damn badge. Sam, no more rerouting drones. Vision- I don’t know… knock?"

Vision nodded. "Noted."

"Good," Rhodey sighed. "Meeting adjourned."

-

As the others dispersed, you remained seated, flipping through your notes with a sigh. Just not quite ready to stand up, yet.

Steve lingered, watching you with an amused but knowing expression. "You survived."

You glanced up, deadpan. "Did I?"

Steve smirked, stepping just a little closer, arms crossed over his chest. "Barely. But I gotta say, for someone who spent the morning getting their ass kicked, you looked pretty good doing it."

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. "Are you flirting with me, Captain Rogers?"

Steve shrugged, that damn smirk still lingering. "Just stating the facts."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "I think I liked it better when you were just making fun of me."

Steve leaned down slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your heartbeat stutter. "Oh, I was doing that too."

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Sam, impeccably timed, walked by and clapped a hand on your shoulder. Steve shot up straight, changing his tune instantly. 

Cute.

"Go take you a nap, _____." Sam said as he motioned for Steve to follow him. He did, reluctantly, not before looking back toward you with an awkward smile on his pinked face.

You sighed and half-spun in your chair.

Despite all of the stress, the grief, the pain, you knew you wouldn’t change a thing.

-

After the meeting, you dragged yourself back to your room and immediately collapsed onto your bed.

The second you hit the mattress, your body practically sighed in relief.

Against your better judgment, rather, ignoring your better judgment, you let your eyes close.

Just for a minute.

Two hours later, you woke up. Drool crusted the corner of your lips and your leg was awkwardly dangling over the side of your bed.

The best minute of my entire life.

You groaned, rolling onto your stomach, silently cursing Natasha, Rhodey, Steve- everyone.

Alas, you knew it was time to rise.

Your body still ached all over, but at least it didn’t feel like you were going to collapse mid-step.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed, threw on the first sweater you could find, and trudged out of your room toward the dining area.

The Compound’s dining area was mostly empty; Steve and Rhodey had already eaten, Sam was nowhere to be found (which was either a good sign or a really bad one), and Natasha had probably gone to train again, because she was insane.

You were pretty sure Vision didn't eat.

You grabbed a plate from the cupboard and made yourself a portion of whatever was neatly set aside on top of the stove, intending to eat alone in peace.

Just as you were settling in on the island stool, you caught movement in your periphery.

Wanda.

She hesitated for a brief moment, then, without a word, Wanda slid into the seat across from you.

A few beats passed before Wanda, without looking up from her plate, spoke. “Did I understand incorrectly, or did Natasha nearly kill you this morning?”

You, surprised and amused, let out a breath of laughter. "Oh, absolutely. It was brutal."

A small smile tugged at Wanda’s lips.

You ate in comfortable silence after that, Wanda making no move to leave.

Eventually, you risked a glance up to her, finding her expression unreadable.

“…You okay?” You asked quietly.

Wanda took a moment before responding, but when she finally did, she gave a small nod. "I am not sure, yet," she admitted. Then, after a pause, she added, "I feel… both out of place, and... where I belong."

Wow.

Your eyebrows raised at the sentiment, like she was reading your mind.

Is she reading my mind?

You cleared your throat, trying to come up with the words to respond.

“You… have no idea how relatable that is.” You looked down at your plate and shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know if you know this, but-” you cleared your throat again, suddenly feeling parched, “I don’t have anyone left, really.”

Wanda looked up from the counter and at you with soft, but wide eyes.

“I- uh, I lost my parents when I was young- like 14, 15. I didn’t have any siblings- I always wished I did.” You allowed yourself to get lost in your words, letting them come out one after another. “My grandmother was amazing, she was the only other family I had- I moved in with her and she helped me through college and got me my first job.”

When you blinked, you realized, despite a small smile, your eyes were fogging. You cleared your throat one last time, hoping it would give you some finality. 

“So, yeah- uh, I guess my point is, I think I understand sort of what you mean.” An uncomfortable chuckle left your throat and you looked at Wanda, hoping you hadn’t scared her off with your sob story.

She didn’t say anything, but her eyes did. You looked at one another for what would have been an inappropriate amount of time, had it not felt so right. She reached over and placed her hand over top yours on the counter and smiled, a sad, understanding smile. You smiled back.

Then, both of you ate your dinner.

-

After offering to wash Wanda’s plate alongside yours and encouraging her to get some sleep, you found yourself walking toward your room with Steve beside you.

It wasn’t planned, it had just… happened. You fell into step naturally, the hallway quiet around you, the dim lighting making everything feel softer.

Steve, hands in his pockets, glanced down at you. "Feeling any better?"

You scoffed playfully. "Oh yeah, I’m thriving."

He smirked. "You’ll get used to it."

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. "You’re telling me there’s more of this?"

Steve chuckled. "Have you met Natasha?"

You sighed dramatically. "Go back to pretending to flirt with me- no more reality checks, please."

Steve, in the most insufferably casual way possible, responded with, "I was never pretending."

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

You almost tripped over your own feet, looking down at them to make sure you were even walking correctly- avoiding Steve’s gaze altogether.

Left foot, right foot, left foot-

Before you could come up with something remotely clever in response, or fall on your face, the two of you reached your door.

The air between you shifted just slightly- still light, still easy, but something else lingered underneath it as you scrambled for your key-card.

Steve hesitated for a second before stepping just a little closer, gently taking the card from your hand and pressing it to the scanner, triggering the lock mechanism.

"Get some rest," he murmured. "You did good today."

Your heart suddenly did a weird little thing you didn’t have time to analyze, shrugged. "I’ll get ‘er next time."

Steve smirked, aware that you were purposefully not meeting his eyes. "I bet you will."

A beat of silence.

And then- intentional and calculated, he leaned in.

His lips brushed yours before pressing in only slightly.

Soft. Brief. Very real.

Your breath hitched slightly, barely processing the warmth of his lips against yours before he was already pulling away.

Steve didn’t move too far back- he lingered just for a second longer, watching you, waiting.

You weren’t sure what he was waiting for.

Maybe for you to say something, to make a joke like you had finally found yourself comfortable doing- but you couldn’t find one.

Your fingers curled slightly against the doorframe you leaned back against as you finally forced yourself to meet his eyes.

His expression was unreadable at first. Maybe even unreadable to himself.

But then, his lips quirked upward into a small, almost shy smirk.

"Goodnight, _____."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You stood there for a long moment, your fingers brushing over your lips, wondering if that actually just happened.

No, it definitely happened.

You exhaled a sharp breath, finally stepping into your room and closing the door behind you.

Leaning against it, you let your head fall back against the wood, eyes slipping shut for just a second.

You had so many thoughts you didn’t know what to do with.

That makes two kisses. I’ve kissed Captain America two times.

As much as you wanted to pretend otherwise, the only thing you could think about was the undeniable fact that you wanted him to do it again.

You swallowed hard, pushing off the door and moving toward the bed, willing yourself not to overthink it.

Just sleep.

That’s all you needed.

But as you climbed into bed, exhaustion finally catching up to you, you had a sinking feeling that your dreams weren’t going to let you forget it anytime soon. 

You hoped.

[keru0]

Tickletober 2024

Day 12: Trapped

Lee!Zhongli x Ler!Childe

Ngl kinda wanted to make this one longer, but i thought it was a good stopping point...who knows though, maybe I'll come back to it

*Warning for feet lol

===========================================

“Are you quite done?” Zhongli raised a brow to the ginger. The archon was currently wrapped in a blanket, only his head and feet poking out, thanks to his boyfriend’s playful antics. It had started just a bit ago, Zhongli ignoring Childe’s taunts to rile him up, simply resigning himself to relaxing on the bed. But Childe didn’t stop, resorting to wrapping the man up tight in a blanket, hoping he’d have no other choice than to finally acknowledge him.

“Ah, so I’m not invisible…” Childe rolled his eyes, laying next to the burrito-fied man and poking him in the cheek.

Zhongli twitched his head away and glared at the harbinger, though it had no bite to it. “You never were, you have simply been…I think energetic would be the right term.”

“Just because you’re old doesn’t mean I’m energetic. Everyone my age is like this.” He sighed, fluttering his fingers over the other’s neck and ear. 

“I am not old- Ajax get me out of- Ack! Stop that!” His head flinched away again, eyebrows creasing together as Childe’s playful fingers tickled his exposed neck. “We can go out so you can expel some of your energy.”

The redhead hummed to himself, looking up at the ceiling as if he was contemplating an answer. “Nah, I’ll have way more fun here.” He chuckled to himself, kissing Zhongli’s cheek before getting up and walking to the foot of the bed, settling himself next to the wiggling feet, loafers and sheer socks forgotten in the entryway.

Zhongli’s eyes widened, toes curling and shaking his head. “Childe, don't even think about it.”

“Think about what?” He asked innocently, lazily dragging a finger up and down the trapped man’s sole, from his heel to his toes and back.

“Chihihihlde! Y-Yohou knohohow-”

“No I don’t.” He answered, far too quickly for someone who was truly clueless about what he was doing. He added a finger to the other sole, both feet wrinkled from the toes curling tightly down, though they quickly uncurled and spread out whenever the long fingers tailed up to scratch beneath them.

“AhAhaHAjahAx! StaHahAhAHp!” the ex-archon pleaded, covering one foot with the other, his laughter becoming more frantic as he tried to wiggle around on the bed, trying to escape the tight security of the blanket.

“No, you’ve been ignoring me for the past hour, so I feel it’s only fair that I get to spend an hour with you…” He chuckled under his breath, skittering all ten of his fingers over a single sole, moving back and forth from foot to foot depending on which one was protecting the other. “NOhOHoHoHOhOHO!” Zhongli yelled, his head falling back onto the soft pillows as he was forced to deal with the fingers crawling over his feet. His head rolled back and forth, hair already a mess on the pillows.

“Yes~” The harbinger teased, grabbing ahold of the toes and bending them back, making sure they weren't in the way as he scrubbed his nails along their bases. Zhongli’s feet twitched in the strong hands’ grasp, trying their best to escape the scratching nails.

“AHAHAJAHAHAHX! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Zhongli begged, beginning to work up a sweat trapped in the warm blanket. Tears started to leak down his cheeks, legs twitching and feet trembling as Childe thoroughly worked them over, not sparing an ounce of mercy.

“As I said, an hour. It’s only been, I’d say, ten minutes? Another fifty to go~” He purred, a devilishly mischievous shine in his eye as he held the feet hostage, now raking his nails up and down the trapped sole rabidly, as if he was scratching an incessant itch.

The archon could only beg and laugh as sweat and tears of mirth soaked the pillows, trying his best to claw his way out of the blanket. Childe truly had no mercy as he scratched and scrubbed the helpless feet, trying and failing to wiggle as he held their toes back tightly with one hand. He wasn’t anything if not a man of his word, so Zhongli should prepare himself for the next fifty minutes…but he’s a god, so if he truly hated it, he could get out easily, not that he would make the younger man aware he actually enjoyed being trapped like this, even if just a tiny bit.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you write an sick fic with Damian where reader is running with a warm fever and doesnt want to get up and he takes care of her and end up in good cuddling

this video just made me realise how single i am :(

damian priest x reader

favorite job

you were curled up in your bed, covered in blankets because you were cold but feeling hotter than ever. you woke up feeling sick and you felt your head was going to explode any minute.

damian noticed you being sick the moment you started shivering a little and covered yourself with two more blankets.

“good morning beautiful” he smiled but you simply groaned “are you okay baby?” he asked, already knowing you were running a little sick.

“my head hurts…and my bones too…and my throat is sore…and my eyes are burning…” you whispered keeping your eyes closed.

damian checked your temperature, putting his hand over your forehead and gasped in shock when he felt how hot you were.

“baby…” he sadly smiled at you “i’m going to make you something to drink for your throat, and something to eat before you can take some medication…”

“not hungry…”

“don’t care mi amor, you have to eat something…” he whispered before getting up. he moved quickly, not wanting to leave you alone for too long. he went straight into the kitchen and prepared you a hot tea, knowing it always helped you with your throat and made some pancakes for you to eat, everything accompanied by two bottles of water because you needed to stay hydrated.

he took your favorite blanket from the couch too and moved back into the bedroom, carrying everything with his hands and laying all the good stuff he got you over your nightstand.

“we have pancakes and hot tea…can you sit baby?” he asked you and you tiredly nodded. he helped you putting a pillow behind your head and sat next to you.

“i probably look like shit…”

“you’re always beautiful to me baby…even with your eyes all red and your face all sweaty” he smiled at you and you smiled back “now, you’re gonna eat at least two pancakes so i can give you your medicine” he said and you nodded.

your throat hurt and it was hard eating but you did all you could, feeling a little better once your stomach was full. after that you drank your tea and you felt your throat burning less.

“very good baby…now take this” he gave you the pill and you swallowed it, helping yourself with some water.

“do you have to be somewhere today?” you asked him.

you knew you probably sounded like a child but you didn’t want to be left alone, not when you were feeling like shit.

“nowhere except this bed…” he smiled, joining you once again under the covers. he helped you laying again and he scooped you into his arms, your head on his chest as his arms wrapped you like you were a burrito. one of his hand went on your back as he gently started massaging it and you felt yourself closing your eyes again “you know…taking care of you is my favorite job” he whispered and left a few kisses over your head.

“and wrestling?” you teased him.

“oh princesa…you come first, always…” he said and you could hear the honesty in his voice.

“thank you for taking care of me…”

“i’ll always take care of you baby…always” he kissed your cheek “now…you’re gonna sleep for a few hours and once you’re feeling better we’re gonna stay in bed all day and we’re gonna watch your favourite movies, how’s that sound?”

“perfect…thank you damian, i love you so much…” you said sleepily, feeling the effect of the pill.

“te amo mi amor…” he smiled, knowing that you probably were already asleep but he didn’t care because he knew he had a lifetime with you to tell you how much he loved you.

[alastor-and-adam]

So! How's Evelyn's Easter going? She going to meet her new baby brother soon?

A Few Hours Later…

The room had dimmed with the soft glow of Hell’s dusk—a calmer shade of red leaking through the crooked blinds. Adam sat upright in bed now, still looking pale but far more alert, a pillow tucked behind his back and a baby blanket draped over his shoulder. Baby Eryx was nestled close to his chest, nursing quietly beneath the soft fabric.

Alastor stood nearby, fussing over a tray of snacks he’d snuck in from the Emporium. He turned every few seconds to check on Adam and their son, his grin wide but oddly soft around the edges.

Alastor: He feeds with the determination of a hellhound. Just like his Dada.

Adam: *smirking through a yawn* I am the hellhound.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Rosie stepped inside with a familiar little figure at her side.

Rosie: Hope we’re not interrupting. Someone insisted on seeing her baby brother.

Evelyn toddled in eagerly, dressed in her now slightly grass-stained Easter dress, clutching a half-eaten blood chocolate bunny. Her eyes were wide and shimmering with curiosity.

Evelyn: Papa! Dada!

Adam smiled and waved her over with his free hand.

Adam: Come here, sweetheart. We have someone to introduce you too.

Alastor knelt beside Evelyn as she approached, guiding her closer to Adam’s side. The baby had finished feeding, now blinking slowly, resting peacefully against Adam’s chest.

Alastor picks Evelyn up and places here in Adam’s awaiting other arm.

Evelyn gasped softly at the sight of the baby.

Adam: Evie, meet your baby brother, Eryx.

The infant reached out a tentative hand, gently brushing one of Eryx’s small, curled fingers. Eryx didn’t cry or squirm—he simply blinked up at her. His golden eyes locked onto his sister’s face with a curious, almost unblinking stare.

Alastor: *chuckling warmly* Oh dear, he’s already analyzing her.

Rosie: I’d say he’s intrigued. That’s a good sign.

Evelyn: *in awe* Eh-… kiss?

Adam: It’s okay. You’ll learn how to say it. Eryx (pronounced Air-iks)

Evelyn: Eh wee! (Eri)

She nodded, satisfied, and offers her remaining bloody bunny to the baby to share.

The adults laughed lightly.

Alastor: Evelyn darling, Eryx is too little for candy. You can share with him when he’s older.

Adam: I’ll be more than happy to share with you my little roe deer!

Adam opened his mother and Evelyn shoves the chocolate bunny inside his mouth.

Rosie: *to Alastor* They’re going to be thick as thieves.

Alastor: *beaming* Ah yes. Quite the pair indeed.

[deerlybelov3d]

I had a similar question a little while back but I’ve got some new ideas that weren’t all in that reply so I’m making my replies to the question into a post!!

Oooh I love love this question thank you!! I feel like they would all have pretty different sleep schedules which would make Lucifer’s life even trickier! 😆 the little ones like Husk and Niffty would have to have more frequent naps for sure, and luckily, Husk tends to take it upon himself to have naps, simply curling up in little nooks and crannies around the hotel, but Niffty, who’s a frenetic ball of constant energy, is such a headache to try and get down for a nap! Lucifer tries all the tricks in the book to get her to sleep, but eventually, he gets something of a technique that probably has very specific steps! Maybe he’s got to feed her some warm milk first to start getting her settled, then pick her up and walk her to her room, then dim the lights, walk around bouncing her in his arms for a few minutes while muttering quietly to her, then take the now-finished bottle from her and set her down in her crib and tuck her in with blankets and her toys, start singing a lullaby, and then, as she starts to get sleepier, he rubs her hair and finishes his song! And if any of the kiddos run into the room asking for him, or even just run the room by too loudly, Niffty wakes up completely and Lucifer has to start all over again! 🤣

Alastor for sure hates bedtime and nap time, as he doesn’t like to sleep at all! I headcanon that adult Alastor can go quite a while without much sleep (he doesn’t even seem to have a bed in his room? 🤣) so I think little Alastor would always hate being made to sleep, and I think his natural sleep pattern is more like a deer, where he doesn’t/can’t sleep for long, continuous intervals, but rather catches a couple minutes to an hour of sleep at a time, and then is up again and causing trouble! For this reason he’s the most troublesome for Lucifer to deal with, as an Alastor left alone and awake before anyone else to cause mischief and get into things is a terrifying thought! Lucifer probably got so fed up with Alastor waking up after like an hour of sleep and running out of his room to get into trouble around the hotel while everyone else slept that he put an enchantment on Alastor’s room so that when he’s put to bed at say 10 PM, he can’t leave his room until 6 AM! But that went awry pretty fast when, after the maybe third day of this enchantment being in place, Alastor tried to leave his room, started to get increasingly upset and panicked when he couldn’t, and had a meltdown, and it was only after a few hours of this that Lucifer woke up with an urgent sort of sense in his being from the enchantment that he realized that maybe that wasn’t his best idea! And as he shuffled along to go try and comfort the feral little demon, he changed the enchantment to keep Alastor just on the same floor as everyone else until 6 AM! 🤣 Also, because Alastor usually refuses naps and doesn’t sleep long at night, will end up getting sleep deprived and cranky pretty easily and poor Lucifer has to deal with it as best he can and has to try so hard to get this kid to sleep for longer than an hour at a time! 🤣

I feel like Angel and Charlie typically enjoy nap time unless they’re in the middle of something fun and want to keep doing that instead! Angel loves being able to build little blanket and pillow nests for his naps and loves it when little Husk will curl up with him! Charlie loves to cuddle up to her dad or Vaggie or really anyone and everyone for her naps too! Truly, she and Vaggie are old enough that they don’t *need* naps like the little ones, but especially if Charlie was too energetic to fall asleep right away and if Vaggie had nightmares, then naps do them good anyway!

As for sleep schedules, Lucifer tries to get Husk and Niffty tucked into bed by 8-9 PM, and they tend to sleep through the night pretty well when they don’t have nightmares or bathroom concerns, but Niffty tends to wake up early, which Lucifer, professional late-sleeper and bedrotter, has to really try hard to adjust to and accommodate! 🤣 Niffty, for being a baby, really doesn’t cry much at all, so at least he’s not waking to a wailing child, but he’s got to tend to her first thing in the morning, usually! Husk sleeps a lot and tends to sleep later than all of the other kiddos, so after Lucifer gets Niffty she just checks on Husk to make sure he’s okay and lets him sleep! The rest of the kiddos have a bedtime of 10, but getting each of them to stop what they’re doing and get them all tucked in with their various routines is quite the challenge!

For Alastor, at least a first, he tends to just scoop him up, trying to avoid the teeth and claws, and dumps him into bed, telling him to go to sleep before going off to collect another kiddo!

Angel, being such a people-pleaser, tends to not protest bedtime much, and just wants Luci to tuck him in and kiss him on the head before he goes to sleep!

Lucifer sends Charlie and Vaggie to bed together, and it’s always Charlie who whines and protests while Vaggie quietly complies! He tucks them in with a story and a song and they’re asleep before he finishes!

Several times throughout the process of tucking kiddos in, Alastor manages to get out of bed and run around the floor, and Lucifer has to periodically scoop him back up and put him to bed! I think overtime their relationship would improve and they would start to get along better and Lucifer would eventually, likely with some help from Rosie, find ways to get Alastor to trust him more and to sleep for longer and get better rest! 😆

[bitemevanitas]

I believe Vanitas is uncomfortable taking any sort of medicine and going to a doctor or the hospital is an absolute damn NO so when he’s sick he just lays down in bed like a sad loser and occasionally coughs

The Tragic, Untimely Death of Vanitas

The dim light of morning trickled through the lace curtains of the hotel room, but to Vanitas, it may as well have been the cold, suffocating glow of his final hours.

Two days had passed since that ill-fated evening near Père Lachaise Cemetery, where rain had lashed and wind had howled through the mausoleums like a mourning spirit.

Vanitas had cured the vampire, of course.

A successful mission. A job well done. A reward well-earned.

And the universe, in all its infinite wisdom, had chosen to bestow upon him a gift for his efforts.

Misery. Utter, unrelenting misery.

Vanitas lay sprawled across the bed, wrapped in layers of blankets, his large black coat draped over his shoulders for extra warmth. His hair was an absolute mess, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead.

His face was flushed red with fever, his nose was stuffy, and his throat ached with every breath he took. His arms lay dramatically at his sides, as if he were a fallen soldier awaiting his end.

Noé, meanwhile, was across the room, getting dressed for his outing with Dominique. He paid little mind to the tragic figure occupying the bed.

"I am dying," Vanitas croaked, voice hoarse.

Noé sighed as he adjusted his vest. "You're not dying."

"I am. It's happening. My end has come." He sniffled, wiping at his nose with a handkerchief. "Tell Jeanne she may mourn me, but only for a respectable amount of time before moving on."

Noé rolled his eyes, buttoning his cuffs. "I'll be sure to pass on your last wishes."

Vanitas groaned, rolling onto his side with the grace of a corpse being turned for burial. Murr, curled up at his side, let out a loud purr, kneading into the duvet as if entirely unbothered by the pitiful display.

"This is deplorable," Vanitas muttered, voice muffled against the pillow.

Noé exhaled sharply. Yesterday, he might have been alarmed, but after hours upon hours of Vanitas’ relentless lamenting, Noé had been forced to abandon sympathy in favor of sheer annoyance.

"This wouldn't be happening if you'd just taken the medicine," Noé pointed out, leveling him with a pointed look.

Vanitas turned his fever-bright eyes on him, filled with betrayal. "I refuse."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need it."

Noé looked at him, then at the utterly miserable state he was in. "You're sweating through your clothes."

"I always sleep warm."

"Your face is red."

"Natural complexion."

"Your nose is stuffy."

"I'm merely appreciating how valuable clear breathing is. A lesson in gratitude, if you will."

Noé pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're incorrigible."

Vanitas let out a sigh, sinking further into the mattress. "You wouldn’t understand, Noé. I am simply not meant for sickness. My body, finely honed as it is, is not accustomed to such weakness."

"Then take the medicine and stop being annoying."

Vanitas groaned in protest. Noé had tried, truly. He had done everything in his power to coax, convince, even threaten the man into taking the cold remedy he had fetched from a nearby apothecary.

But Vanitas remained adamant in his refusal, as though the very idea of taking a simple spoon-ful was more offensive than the illness itself.

Amelia Ruth had been the only one able to get him to drink anything, diligently bringing him black tea every few hours to keep him hydrated.

Murr, purring obnoxiously, kneaded his paws against Vanitas’ stomach. The action must have been somewhat comforting, as Vanitas merely let out a long, pitiful sigh rather than push the cat away.

"Vanitas—"

"No." Vanitas only pulled the blankets up over his nose, looking away like a child avoiding an inconvenient truth. His face was flushed—not just with fever, but stubbornness. "Medicine is disgusting. And unnecessary. I’ll be fine without it."

"You’ve said that for two days now," Noé countered, "and yet, here you are, looking like death-warmed-over."

That earned him a weak glare from beneath fevered bangs. Vanitas sniffled. "Shut it."

The vampire rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he turned back toward the mirror.

Outside, Amelia’s footsteps could be heard approaching the door for the fourth time today. She knocked gently before entering, balancing a tray with fresh black tea.

"Are you feeling any better, Monsieur Vanitas?" she asked kindly as she set the tray on the nightstand.

Vanitas sniffled again, slumping further into his pillow. "No."

"You should drink your tea," she said, undeterred.

He gave her a pitiful look but, to Noé’s mild surprise, reached for the cup without protest. He took a slow sip, sighing as the warmth spread through his throat.

It was the only thing he seemed willing to accept—perhaps because Amelia didn’t press him too hard, unlike Noé, who had spent an hour the afternoon before trying to convince him to take medicine only to be met with firm, childish resistance.

Noé finished dressing, turning to adjust his gloves. "I'm going to see Domi."

Vanitas made a noise of offense. "You’re leaving me here? Alone? While I waste away in misery?"

"You have Murr."

Vanitas turned his head slowly to regard the cat, who was now dozing peacefully atop his stomach.

He sighed, exasperated. "I don’t think you understand how dire this is, Noé. My body, my precious, capable, resilient body, has been taken hostage by this wretched illness. Do you know how long it’s been since I could breathe properly? I had forgotten what it was like to have an unblocked nose. And now? That memory is but a distant dream."

"Then take the medicine."

Vanitas glared.

Noé glared back.

Neither moved.

Amelia, sensing another impending argument, cleared her throat lightly. "Perhaps some more soup later would help?"

Vanitas sighed dramatically, looking away.

"That'd be great," Noé interjected. He had long since given up on forcing Vanitas to be reasonable.

He grabbed his coat and hat, pausing at the door. "Try not to actually die while I’m gone," he said, mostly out of obligation.

Vanitas, nestled beneath layers of blankets, peeked out just enough to give him a weak glare. "No promises."

Noé left with an exasperated sigh.

As the door clicked shut, Vanitas slumped further into the bed, letting Murr's rhythmic purring lull him into a half-daze.

He felt awful, truly, but at least he was warm. At least there was tea.

He coughed again—just loud enough to emphasize his plight to the uncaring world.

Surely, he thought, this was the worst he had ever suffered.

.

.

.