#i did not plan to spend four hours on this lmao

[franky-y]

this is a drawing please don't come after me

[spider-ghoul]

Babysitting <3

Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)

In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!

this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website

~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~

At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.

"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"

"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"

"Six is when we're leaving."

"I'll be there at five fifty."

"You're a savior."

This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.

I mean, he was  kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.

At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.

I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.

She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.

She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.

To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.

"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"

I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.

I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.

I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.

Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing. 

As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.

I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.

I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.

It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.

I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.

I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.

I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.

Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.

"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"

"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"

He laughed and my heart fluttered.

"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning. 

"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."

"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess. 

"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."

"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."

"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.

And i felt my face getting hot again.

"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down. 

He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him. 

"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."

After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.

He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth. 

I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?" 

"Uh.. ten-ish?"

"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him. 

"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."

"It's not far-"

"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."

I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude." 

"Neither me or Sally would care."

"...."

"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"

"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything. 

Percy smiled, making my heart melt.

"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again. 

"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow. 

"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.

"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:

"Watching me sleep?" 

"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.

"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly,  staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.

After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me. 

"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-" 

"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks." 

He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that. 

I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body.  I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him. 

I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again. 

I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?" 

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?" 

"Well I kinda assumed..?" 

"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?" 

Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.

"No, I don't mind.." 

I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him. 

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut. 

I was woken when Percy broke the silence. 

"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent. 

"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes. 

"I really like you, you know that?" 

If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered. 

"... I really like you too." 

I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip. 

"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it." 

I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer. 

It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't  remember. 

I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said. 

And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment. 

The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home. 

We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then. 

He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.

[fiapartridge]

REQUEST tbh idk how ur request work but I have an idea

Going to one of Luke’s games but it’s Toronto vs NJ and wearing a maple lefes jersey

And luke sees her and is banging on the glass to get ur attention and is like “off now”

Idk this idea popped in my head lmao

R U Mine? | luke hughes

"all i ever wanna say is, 'are you mine?'"

luke hughes x reader

summary: you wear a toronto maple leafs jersey to luke’s game and he can't help but wish you were wearing his...

warning(s): cursing

hiii @bibella8swan <3 hope u like mitch marner, if not, just imagine someone else LMAO + i really need to make a navigation with like a proper request/prompt system, im tryna be a pro tumblr writer gal

You loved Mitch Marner, like loved him. 

Having grown up in Toronto, your family loved hockey just as much as the next family— which was a lot. They watched every single Leafs game, went to every single Leafs signing, and they even had a shrine of Leafs memorabilia in your parents’ home office. To say they liked the Leafs was an understatement (honestly, they would probably tackle you if you said that)— they were obsessed. 

Luke knew you loved the Leafs. I mean, he lived next door to you for a good chunk of his life, how could he not know? It wasn’t like you were sporting all things Leafs whenever you were with him, but Luke paid enough attention to notice your dedicated Mitch Marner Pinterest boards and your number 16 lockscreen. Though you rarely ever said it out loud (honestly, I don’t think you’ve ever told Luke, let alone anyone else, about your love for Mitch), Luke knew— because Luke knew you. He noticed the little things, like the way you always needed to carry around a lint roller in your bag because you just knew there would be unwanted lint wherever you end up going, or the way you laughed at everything, even bad jokes, because you hated silence even more. 

When he moved to Michigan, you were scared that things were going to change between the two of you, but it never did. He was still your best friend, and you were still his. When he found out you were moving to New Jersey for college, he was ecstatic given that he had just gotten drafted to the Devils. 

Getting to spend more time with his best friend? It was the best news he had ever been given. Luke started planning out your guys’ lives in New Jersey the second you told him about your plans. Maybe you guys could share an apartment instead of him sharing one with Jack, and maybe you could go to all of his home games and cheer him on in the stands? 

Luke moved to New Jersey after Michigan’s loss in the Frozen Four, and while it was a bitter moment, knowing that he was finally going to see you made it not so terrible. 

When Luke arrived in New Jersey, it was like nothing had changed. The two of you spent every single day together, and there wasn’t a single moment when you guys weren’t laughing, or making fun of each other while laughing. You even got an apartment with him, just like he had planned. It was perfect. Maybe that was when Luke understood that his love for you was way beyond just friendship. Luke loved you. Quinn said that Luke had fallen in love with you the moment he saw you, but he just wasn’t bright enough to see it— I guess college did teach him a couple of things. 

After a few more months of living together, Jack had finally managed to slap some sense into the both of you after finding out that you were both going on Tinder dates and that none of you were happy. In fact, you two were miserable. Every single time you watched the other person walk out that front door in nice clothes and high expectations, you felt some part of yourself crumble to pieces. 

You hated the thought of someone getting to hold Luke’s hand or cuddle into his side, or even get the chance to kiss him. You had known Luke your entire life and some random girl from some stupid app that he had known for, what? An hour? Got to get closer to him than you? You hated that, and little did you know, Luke hated that, too.

Which brought you to where you were now: at Luke’s game against the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

You slipped into the front row, sitting beside Ryleigh and Brooke, as you got the most perfect view of Luke as he and the rest of the Devils skated onto the ice for warmups before the game. You were engaged in conversation with Brooke when you felt Ryleigh tap your shoulder repeatedly. Whipping your head in her direction, she pointed to the glass and said, “I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” she laughed. 

When you looked toward the glass, you saw Luke banging against the clear pane. You were confused, to say the least. It wasn’t unusual for Luke to give you some sort of attention during warmups, like a simple wave, or a small smile, but for him to be banging on the glass? It had to be important. 

“Off," he nodded his head at you. "Now.”

You furrowed your brows. What was he talking about? You squinted your eyes, signaling that you had no idea as to what he was referring to. 

Luke pinched his jersey, pulling it up and down, and you immediately knew what it was. You were wearing a Marner jersey. What did he think was going to happen? The love of your life was on that ice— of course you were going to wear his jersey! But then again, the love of your life was banging on the glass, getting a million stares from Devils fans and Leafs fans alike, just so he could gain some comfort knowing that you were in that crowd, wearing his jersey. 

You didn’t quite understand that, though. You wondered why it was so important to Luke. I mean, you wore his jersey to every single home game. It was one game against a team you loved. What was the big deal?

You shrugged him off, shooing him to go back to the others when you heard the siren go off, signaling that it was time for the game to start. He shook his head and skated off to the Devils’ bench. 

The first period was… definitely something.

Luke got the puck a lot, but he also missed the puck… a lot. He skated around the ice like a lost puppy, and you bit your nails, wondering if it really was the jersey that was bothering him. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you. You’ve loved Mitch Marner since the concept of crushes even came to you. The Maple Leafs were your team. What was so wrong with that?

During the intermission, you sprang out of your seat and marched over to the direction of the locker rooms. The Rock was like a second home to you. You knew the place like the back of your hand which made it so much easier to get to Luke— because you needed to get to Luke before the second period started. You needed to know why it was taking such a toll on him. 

When you walked towards the hall of the locker rooms, your eyes met Luke’s and he immediately ran over to you, or rather hobbled to you, on his skates. On his way over, his right hand fished for the bottom of his jersey as he pulled it over his head in one clean motion. God, it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. 

“Take this,” he said, still out of breath from the game. 

You shook your head. “That thing is full of sweat, Luke.”

“Then let me grab you a clean one from my stall,” he suggested before turning around.

You scoffed, grabbing his wrist and swiveling him back towards you. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “The last time you said that, you were pissed off that Jack got the last slice of pizza and the next time you got pizza, you added olives because you knew Jack hated them. It’s not nothing, Luke.”

He looked everywhere but you, because he knew you’d read him like a magazine. He knew that he could never hide a single thing from you, because just as he had paid attention to you, you had paid attention to him. You knew him, and deep down, you knew why the jersey was such a big deal to Luke, but you wanted to hear him say it. 

You wanted Luke to call you his. 

His shoulders relaxed for the first time since intermission started, and his eyes finally met yours. “I know you love Mitch. You always have, and that’s never been a problem, and it never will be, but… I wanted you to pick me.”

You narrowed your brows, stepped closer to the boy you loved so much, and you whispered almost tauntingly, “Why should I pick you?”

He bent down, held the sides of your face, and crinkled his eyes in nothing but cringe. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Gosh, I think Mitch is calling my name,” you frowned. 

He shook his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “For some fucking reason, I love you, Y/N, and I want you to wear my jersey, I’m begging you to wear my jersey, because as selfish as this sounds, I need to know that you’re not Marner’s, and you’re not the Leafs’ — you’re mine. I want you… to be mine.”

Your face broke into a bright smile. “Fucking finally,” you laughed, pushing him off of you and towards the locker room. “Give me the damn jersey, Hughes, intermission ends in seven! Also,” you pulled him back. “I love you, too.”

[lennsart]

what is the autism fic about?

this is starting to feel like bullying-WHOSE FEELINGS ARE ETTING HURT???

and b*tch are you okay, is someone having a breakdown in there omg FEED ME

Ooooo you really sniped two of my most dark fics out of the three you chose 😂

I've already answered about "This is starting to feel like bullying" so I'll answer for the other two !

Let's start with the softer one :

- The Autism fic

"The Autism fic" is about... What's in the title ! lmao

It is also one of the Legend-centric one, but everyone has an important role and will get their moment to shine :)

Directly from my notes :

"Everyone is autistic 🎉

Legend has been raised to hide and mask it, and is ""conditionned"" to think it's rude to let autistic traits show

So at first most of the Links are like "wow, what an asshole"

[...]

Time and Wars are going full parents mode, they want everyone to feel comfortable in the group, so they try to protect them from ableism... which Legend does without knowing what it is

So they don't get along well

Actually it's like :

Know they are autistic and what it means :

- Warriors (spent a lot of time researching trauma response and the way the brain worked after the war (firstly to help his friends))

- Time (learned the terms during the war)

- Four (not the exact word, but he knows about neurodivergence)

Know they are "different" :

- Hyrule

- Sky

- Legend

Never really thought about it :

- Twilight (when he was a rancher it perfectly met his needs (I'm sure petting goats when you're overwhelmed is like THE remedy) and afterwards, some people were rude in castletown but he thought it was because he was a villager)

- Wind (is seen as a hyperactive and curious kid but not really more)

Wild is special because he knows, but also think it's because of the 100 years sleep thing ? And who cares, he saved the world and spend most of his time alone anyway."

I have the story planned out and a few scenes written, but it's mostly ideas and random scenes, it's far from being done (and not the wip I'm working on right now !)

Basically, in the downfall timeline people get more scared of difference and intolerant (maybe even because the fallen hero was autistic and they're like "well look how that turned out", but it's... A pretty sad idea). So Legend has been raised to hide it, and have constently been told that the way he acted (stimming, questionning social cues and stuff) was rude, unproper, and more importantly, dangerous for him.

I'll put the beginning here, because it summarize the whole thing pretty well, but I'm sorry for the length of this answer zhehhzehbhbezhez

Snippet :

"Apparently, the weirdness was a hero thing. 

Legend was quite puzzled upon this discovery. He had thought his whole life that the weird was a 'him' thing, and a bad one. That what was natural to him was very rude and that he needed to change it.

[...]

He was used to conceal.

He was used to act, smile and look in the eyes and laugh with everyone else. He was used to control, checking every few minutes if his hands were still and quiet. He was used to pretend to be like everyone else, and to be able to release those barriers when he was home, to collapse for an hour or so in his room, in the dark and under his covers.

Somehow, when he traveled during quests, he got surprised to note that he was less tired from a day of walking and exploring than from a day in town. Somehow he felt more like himself when he was alone on the road and bouncing on his feet when he saw a fun animal that he had never seen before.

Somehow, he had associated that feeling with travels.

And he was quickly understanding, as he spent time with other heroes, that he should have associated it with being alone.

He couldn't rest. Well, no, he could rest, they slept on the road and they didn't overwork themselves, but he couldn't rest like he did at home. 

Because everyone would see, and it wasn't because they had some of the weird that they would accept all of his.

The first few days, he managed. He had met the heroes while in a bad mood, and didn't bother to force any smile he didn't want to. They categorized him as grumpy, and not only was that fair, "grumpy" was an incredibly easier role to act on than "agreeable".

(Probably because it was less polite, but... It was a bit late to be, and they didn't seem to mind too much.)

But after a while, it started to wear him out.

He joked less and mocked more. He was more tired and thus less considerate. He didn't manage his tone as well, nor his facial expressions.

He played with his rings a lot (which was an acceptable way to let out some steam, he had found out while observing adults in town, but only as long as it didn't become obsessive). He felt frustrating needs to just gesticulate nonsensically until his body felt less stiff, less foreign, more... Right.

He didn't feel right, was what it was.

And he resented the other heroes for not making any effort."

- Bitch are u okay

I want to clarify one thing : when a wip have a funny title, most of the time they are speaking to me !

"This is starting to feel like bullying" meant bullying towards Legend, that I kept writing whump about.

So the question "bitch are u okay" is directed towards ME, and the answer is no :D (at least when I started writing this)

This is legit the heaviest wip I worked on :)

To put it simply, Legend is depressed, very much so, and Dark Link feeds off the heroes' negative feelings. This doesn't mix well as you can guess !

The first part of the fic would be a descent to hell. Poor Lege is already struggling, and the more he tries to make an effort and do things, the more he feels like he messes up. So why try at all ?

I think I have written about darker themes, but the fact that this is often Legend's POV makes it kind of... Hard to read, in a way ?

I only write on this wip when I'm either in a good mood and know it won't affect me, or when I struggle and need to vent, no in-between because then it would make me feel down.

And, yeah, Legend is having a breakdown in this one. A big one 😅

But what is important to me is that the second part of the fic is about healing. It's about how having a good support system helps, how healing isn't linear but progress is always progress. It's not just a vent fic, I want Lege to get better, dammit !

The thing is, I like "healing" as a theme for my fictions, and the next long fic I plan on posting also speaks about this (with a twist). I just don't know if I should fuse those two fics (but I'll lose some of what makes them special in both cases) or if I should just assume that I'm always writing the same stories in different fonts 😆

I don't have a big snippet for this one, but just to set the tone, it starts like this :

" It's just one of those days.

Legend wakes up, barely opens his eyes, and suddenly, existing is too hard.

Getting up and eating and talking with friends sounds like torture. Having to wait for the night to be able to curl up under his covers is already an ordeal, and for Nayru's sake he's not even out of his bedroll yet. "

(I'm sorry for the length of this post oh my god now THAT is rambling)

[again-please]

"#I do mourn for star wars" ok SPEAK ON IT

so. i don't know that i have anything particularly new or coherent to say, but TFA got me WAY into stars wars (and by extension back into writing fic), and then cut to four years later and the rise of skywalker was that moment where i walked out of the theatre and realized...oh. okay. no one at the helm of this franchise gives the narrowest shit about telling a cohesive story or had any kind of plan from the start.

to me, such a terrible ending that it kind of marred all the previous (sequel trilogy) installments for me. i was/am a big ol reylo as some of you may know, and i would have traded every canon reylo moment (a story element they still didn't even really commit to, because they committed to absolutely nothing) for an actual overarching planned story for the sequel trilogy rather than the weird written-by-committee, audience-tested, disjointed mess we got. even TLJ is not free of sin on this count imo (let us not excuse completely downgrading finn to a side character). and ultimately i find it kind of depressing that the plot of sequels is "the exact same thing that happened in the original trilogy happens again with a slightly different flavor. it'll probably happen again in another 30 years."

and like, every single one of the disney+ shows has been more of the same. i'm sure they all have moments but i only have so many hours in my day to waste lmao. mandalorian was good for half a second. i heard andor was good, but...shrug. i don't even want to know whatever it is they did to my girl ahsoka. they all have this bizarre kid-friendly-but-nostalgia-heavy quality to me that ends up making them feel like they're written for no one except the execs to feel comfortable about spending money on. and everything set during that time between ROTJ and TFA just kind of reminds me that it ultimately goes nowhere.

like don't get me wrong, i get excited to see luke skywalker. but then seeing weird cgi luke skywalker is all that it really is. i'm very happy for the people still enjoying it.

obviously there are lots of people out there who are like sTaR WaRs WaS aLwAyS bAd, but clone wars was GOOD god damn it

(kylo can still fucking get it)

[impishtubist]

happy birthday, second-sister <3

A while back, I did a poll about what character I should breed next in my fics, and it was a VERY close call between James and Remus, and you BEGGED for James..................so I wrote you both lmao.

Anyway have an absolutely delightful birthday, @second-sister ! 

----

“Here we are, Moons! That’s the last of it,” James says cheerfully, setting the last box on the floor. He straightens, resting one hand on the small of his back and the other on his belly. “Whew! Somehow, I always forget what it’s like to essentially be carrying around an extra bowling ball. Or two, in this case. How are you feeling?”

Remus is stretched out on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes, his other arm wrapped around his stomach. He lifts his arm to glare at James, then drops it again. 

“Right, not feeling great,” James says. “No problem! I’ll help you go through all these things. Budge up.” 

He pats Remus’s leg, and Remus bends his legs at the knees to make room on the far cushion so James can sit down. James opens the box. It’s packed with newborn babygrows, some of which are almost new.

“You’re sure you won’t need those?” Remus sounds drowsy, probably from the low-dose anti-nausea potion James forced down his throat earlier. He’s already having a hard time of it, poor thing, and he’s not even out of his first trimester yet. 

“We’ve got plenty,” James says, waving a hand. “We’ve got four kids’ worth of clothes and toys in the attic. You’ll be doing us a favor, taking some of it off our hands. Oh, look!” 

He pulls a babygrow out of the box that says Top Dog on it. “This was Harry’s first outfit. You have to take it.” 

Remus musters a smile. “I think Sirius got that for him.”

“He did, and his own baby should also wear it. C’mon, Moony, it’ll be perfect.” James is already tearing up at the thought of their kids sharing this piece of clothing. Bloody hormones. He loves being pregnant, don’t get him wrong, but the one thing he can do without are the wild emotional swings. 

Over the course of the afternoon, they slowly fill some boxes with clothing, toys, and books the Potter children have outgrown. 

“Ugh, I don’t know how you love this so much,” Remus groans finally, slumping back on the couch. He’s looking a little pale, and James grabs a bin just in case. 

“Well, it helps that I never have morning sickness,” James says, and Remus glares at him. 

“You’d probably love it even if you did.”

He’s got a point. James realizes it’s weird how much he enjoys pregnancy--they’ve got four kids to prove it, with five and six on the way--but he doesn’t spend much time worrying about it. So what if it’s weird? He loves watching his body change, loves the weird cravings, loves Lily’s foot rubs and feeling their little ones kick. He’s never had a difficult birth, either, delivering all their babies at home pretty much within an hour or two of going into labor. Hazza was the fastest of them, making his debut in the back garden while Remus and Sirius were over for lunch one day. James had barely had the chance to stand up before the little rascal was crowning.

“Probably,” James says. He doesn’t have much of a lap these days, but he can fit one of Remus’s feet on his knee, and he starts rubbing Remus’s ankle. Remus hums, closing his eyes. “I know this isn’t what you two had planned, but you’re both going to be excellent dads. I hope you know that.” 

“Sirius will be,” Remus says. 

“You too, Moons. The two of you practically raised Neville.”

A shadow passes over Remus’s face, there and gone in the space of a blink. It still stings all these years later, that Neville was given to his grandmother to raise instead of his godfather. Augusta made sure that Remus got to be involved in Neville’s life, but James knows that Remus wanted nothing more than to fulfill his duties as godfather properly.

As if on cue, the front door bursts open and Harry comes into the house like a whirlwind, Neville following more sedately behind him. Lily and Sirius bring up the rear, arms laden with shopping bags. 

“Did you have fun?” James asks as Harry perches next to him on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah!” Harry says. “Don’t get mad, though.”

“Why would I get mad?” 

“Because your son released every snake in the reptile house at the zoo,” Lily huffs, bending to kiss James on top of the head. “We had to Obliviate half of London.” 

“What happened to the snakes?” Remus asks. He sits up, scooting closer to James so Neville can sit next to him. Neville leans automatically into his godfather, and Remus wraps an arm around him. 

“Don’t worry, Moons, we made sure they were all sent home to their respective countries.” Sirius bends to kiss him on the cheek. “You know Harry would never speak to us again if we hadn’t. Are we taking all of this home?”

“You are,” James says cheerfully.

“You realize we’re only having one baby, right, not sixteen?” Sirius surveys the twenty-three boxes with dismay.

“Don’t worry, Pads, this will last you until they’re at least eighteen months old,” James says.

Remus pales, and only James’s Quidditch-fast reflexes save both the sofa, carpet, and Neville’s shoes. He shoves the bin under Remus’s face right before he retches.

“Oh, Moony.” Sirius rubs his husband’s back. “I’m sorry, love.”

Neville pats Remus’s shoulder consolingly. Remus finishes retching, and Lily casts a spell to clean the bin while Sirius does a mouth-cleaning charm on Remus.

“You three should get home.” Lily shrinks all twenty-three boxes, places them in a sack, and hands them to Sirius. “I’ll come by and check on you tomorrow at lunchtime.” 

“Aw, Mum!” Harry complains. “Can’t Neville stay?”

“Er--” Neville fidgets, reddening slightly. “Maybe another time?”

James gets it. Neville has been the focal point of Sirius’s and Remus’s lives for the past nine years, and having a baby on the way is a huge adjustment for him. He wants to spend as much time with his uncles as he can before the little one arrives. 

“Sorry, Haz, we’ve got big plans with Nev tonight,” Sirius says, ruffling Neville’s hair. He steps over Remus’s legs and crouches in front of James, placing his hands on James’s swollen belly. “You hear that, babies? It’s movie night, so you’ve got to stay put for at least another twenty-four hours.” 

Longer than that, James hopes. He can’t wait to meet the twins, but he knows a part of him will be disappointed if he doesn’t make it to his due date. He wants to savor every second of his last pregnancy.

Sirius presses a loud, smacking kiss to James’s stomach, then gets to his feet and helps Remus up. Remus can’t stomach Apparition or Floo right now, so Sirius drove the three of them in his car. It’s an hour’s journey back to the cottage, so James wordlessly holds out the now-Scourgified bin for them to take with. Sirius waves it off.

“We’ve already got one in the car. Learned the hard way that we need to keep a bin wherever this one goes.” He wraps an arm around Remus’s waist and offers a hand to Neville. “Come on, boys. Let’s go home.” 

They leave, and Harry goes up to his room. Their three youngest are with James’s parents for the night. Harry had decided to skip the sleepover with his grandparents so that he could spend the day at the zoo instead. James has a sinking feeling that, sooner or later, they’re going to end up with more than a few snakes from the garden inside their house. Harry’s always been more than a bit obsessed with them. 

“I’d ask how you’re feeling,” Lily says, “but I know the answer will be spectacular.” 

“You’re not wrong,” James says. “Wouldn’t say no to a foot rub, though, and we can talk about Christmas plans.” 

Lily sits on the couch and pulls James’s feet into her lap, giving him a stern look. “I am not knocking you up again.” 

“Come on, Lils,” James says. “The babies will be six months by then, and seven kids is a great number to have. That’s basically an entire Quidditch team! We have the room to build another addition, and--”

“No, James.”

[aliilku]

warning: rant

mention of drug abuse and sh

i think im in my all time low.

three years ago my mental state started deteriorating, i was sh-ing basically every day, failing college, getting drunk on every possible occasion and using sex as sh

two years ago i was neck deep in my 3d, getting drunk and/or h1gh four to six times a week bc i needed to escape my life and mind so badly

now i dont even like being not sober. i dont sh at all. i relapsed here but half the time i dont r3str1ct anyway to be honest...

but i dont have any healthy copying mechanisms either. i am literally unable to handle my life, my responsibilities and my situation but i have no way of coping with it. ive been going through autistic burnout and/or depression for at least a year and a half but i could never afford to quit my job and take care of myself (im forced to have two rn lmao)

and bc of that i have been slowly but surely ruining my relationship. i dont have the mental capacity to plan dates, to have sex, to care about/for my partner properly.

so i just kinda exist through it. all ive been doing in life for the last year are the things i HAVE to do. the only person i talk to outside of work is my partner and i hate it but i cant/ dont know how to change it. i almost never put any effort into looking how i wish i did, i just dont have the energy to do anything not work/ household related

i dont even have the time and space to unload properly which my autistic ass desperately needs, all i get are a few hours alone every few days which i usually spend catching up on chores or playing the sims and watching youtube at the same time bc im unable to do things i would enjoy on a deeper level

and the longer i force myself to do even the absolutely necessary stuff the more im afraid of how hard ill fall when it happens.

i have an older brother whos autistic as well and unable to work, hes 28 and lives with our parents, dropped out of college like 6 times

and his life is basically my worst nightmare and my future at the same time.

and i have no idea how to help myself.

even if i could afford therapy i dont have time for it, i have 4 free days till the end of the month, some days i have scheduled an 8h day shift and a 12h night shift two hours apart from each other

im not even surviving right now, i am literally just existing.

i just push everything possible out of my mind and focus on forcing myself to do my responsibilities, if i even slightly think about myself i have tears in my eyer

and its fucking terrifying.

i doubt anyone will read all of this shit but whatever, i needed to do this.

and if anyone actually did read it, thank you. means a lot.

im open to advice but i might not respond bc i have a tendency to find every possible "i cant, because.." and end up spiraling and making the other person frustrated

[kawamagi-crow]

Yesterday i had to take my dad to a hospital (which was already stressful enough on its own), his doctor told him to go to a certain hospital that's part of a network of private hospitals.

We have a healthcare plan, so whatever. and that hospital chain is covered so it was okay right?!

nah.

for some dumbfuck reason THAT specific hospital didn't accept our plan. Why? cus our "card type" wasn't the right one.

not the plan! just the format and way the card is designed.

and so we had to go to another one THAT WAD ONE HOUR AWAY. WE HAD TO TAKE A GODDAMN UBER TO A HOSPITAL. THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE US AN AMBULANCE.

And dear reader, i have never been so angry in my goddamn life (thats a lie, i have been angrier but y'all get it). the treatment we got from the staff was horrible, they stood around on their asses watching my dad just look like he was having a fucking STROKE.

we had to ask FOUR TIMES for someone to come and help him inside the other uber. because NO ONE DID ANYTHING. THEY STOOD AROUND LOOKING AT US WITH THEIR CARA DE BUNDA (cant translate that lmao) AND I WAS ALMOST SCREAMING OUT WILL SOMEONE FUCKING HELP?!

By the way, when we got to the other hospital i immediately ran inside, said "i need a wheelchair, my dad needs help he's right outside" and guess what? the woman i asked immediately got up, went outside to check out whats happening and Went back inside to get us help. it was quicker for us to get him help, they let my sister register him in while he was already inside being checked out by doctors and in minutes they did what the other hospital refused to do because of a fucking CARD.

For a while they had suspicions he did in fact have a stroke, but luckily (kinda? i don't think luckily is the best word for it but whatever) it seemed to be a mixture of dehydration and low sodium on his blood (because surprise he had spent the last two days vomiting. which yes i told them to go to the hospital. they didn't.)

But imagine if he DID. imagine how much DAMAGE them denying us help and forcing us to go to another hospital would have done. not to mention how spending at least two hours with low sodium must have impacted some of his health (hopefully he recovers. but my mom says there's a risk he goes in a coma. which i would 100% blame that hospital for not getting him help sooner)

[astroboots]

Hiiiii I see that you and thirstworld collaborate a lot (and I love your work lmao 🤤). Can you explain how you two collaborate? Like, what your process is? Do you share a word doc, take turns writing chapters, something else? Thanks ❤️❤️

Hi nonny!!! Sorry it's taken a while to answer this. I wanted to take some proper time to answer this, since writing with @thirstworldproblemss is my favorite part of the writing process, and I was trying to pin down exactly how we make it work and the honest answer is:

utter chaos?

There is no real logic in all honesty, we do everything under the sun.

The collaboration comes in many forms.

Most of the time it's a side product of just how many hours, minutes and seconds of the day we spend talking to each other? This includes DM, Whatsapp, Discord, Tumblr messages (though that has taken the backburner since their messaging function is chaos and I rarely check it), sometimes we call each other when there's a long roadtrip. Sometimes we will be half awake insomniac and half conscious texting each other messages riddled with typos lyksalksdassisdis.

A lot of times before we write, be it a oneshot, a chapter or a headcanon that is never posted, it starts with one of us going:

"Hey you know what would be interesting? if ..." and off to the races we go. A lot of times one of us will throw a scenario of the character we're horny for at the hour, and throw a prompt at the other going: how do you think they'd react.

Our favourite thing is the 101 various AUs we have of every damn character. High School AU of Homecoming where the trio gets together (Frankie is an exchange student?) Royal Historical AU! where Santiago and Boa are betrothed and Frankie is a war captive? What about an angsty Frankie/Santi FWB in high school AU? etc etc etc

Sometimes one of us (most like TWP) will write a whole masterpiece of a fic from beginning to end in the DMs, and it's a matter of copying and pasting into the Gdocs. Sometimes one of us will start something and the other finish. Sometimes we play baton where one of us writes a paragraph then the other takes over.

For Red Flags. It was me holding TWP captive and hostage for over a year. (Much like what I'm doing with EYEM) talking her ear off, and both of us going over the chapter over and over planning in meticulous detail only to throw it out and write something completely different anyhow. (We must've rewritten chapter 6 four times from scratch until both of us were in absolute tears).

The main thing I'd say about our collaboration is that there is a lot of trust between us. Co-writing with someone requires a lot of vulnerability because writing can be something very personal, and if you do not feel close to the person it can throw up a lot of emotions you didn't expect.

We've also known each other for three years now, and talk a ridiculous amount. Often when we plan stories there will be at least a handful of times during the interaction of one night where we both suggest the exact same thing within seconds of each other and then we burst out laughing.

I trust TWP with everything I write, to the point where when she beta/edit, I do not review the changes, there's no tracked changes, because she has full editing permission on my stories, because I know she will be better at knowing what I wanted and intended to write better than I did.

I cannot stress this enough that while TWP might not be listed as a co-writer in everything I write (because she refuses to let me give her the credit she is due), she is an integral part of everything I write because I will consult her, brainstorm with her, she will suggest scenes, pacing, re-organise scenes that do not fit etc, before a story is posted. She is the unseen masterpupeteer of all my writing, and more importantly without her writing would not be as fun as it is for me, and I don't know if I would write as much or as often as I do without her.

Writing can sometimes be an incredibly lonely process and I have been lucky and fortunate enough to have a friend who never makes me feel lonely

I remember watching a John Mulaney and Bill Hader interview where they talked about stage fright and Bill Hader was talking about how to cope with anxiety, whenever he performed on SNL he only looked at John and was performing for John. if John laughed then he did his job. That's very much how I feel when I am writing and posting things here. When I write something TWP is my first and foremost audience I have in mind. So long as she laughs or is horny, then I know I've done my job.

[therapist-solarist]

writer ask meme yessss, 3, 12, 19, 23, 27, 30 ♥

3: how you feel about your current WIP

I'm enjoying it! I've got like four to juggle at once because of course I procrastinated and did not prepare for Shuake week very well. (Totally on me. I had time I just dropped the ball lmao) But i'm happy to be writing again. I had what was like a three year break because I was in school and now that i'm done I can't stop starting new things lol. I just hope they read well and that people will enjoy them really.

12: a trope you’re really into right now

Answered on previous ask!

19: the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

COFFEE. Most recently I did some digging into different ways to brew coffee and my god. there's so much to it. It's very cool and if you have three hours to spend going down a rabbit hole I fully recommend it. I don't drink nor like coffee but damn is it fascinating.

23: pick three keywords that describe your writing

Answered on previous ask!

27: your favorite part of the writing process

Planning!! I adore planning. I bullet point out my plotline, fill in the blanks and go to town on what I want to do. Or on the flip side I go "hum this is the idea lets see where it takes me" and just go ham and then re-edit. But that's mostly if i've got the writing bug in the moment.

30: share a fic you’re especially proud of

I've got two- my first is In Your Love, There Is Solace. I wrote this for a zine about 2 years ago (holy shit it's been two years WOW) called the @ DRÖMSERVER zine (look on twitter if your curious!). To this day it's one of those pieces I spent hours on at the time to perfect and it's got fan art!! On the other side of it I have my most recent fic I Said It, I didn't, It doesn't Matter What I Said Or Didn't. I banged this out in like a two week span after I graduated and I just. I'm sooo proud of it. Just makes my day.

[haloburns]

had some free time to think today and i just. got really sad about the life i used to think i was going to have before i became disabled

(whoops this turned into a Journal Entry, so im putting it beneath a read more sry lmao)

like. i had plans to travel europe and work in cafes and stay out too late in clubs with my new friends and then stumble in to open the cafe with my clothes from the night before and smeared makeup. and like, maybe thats a weird dream to have, but id spent so long in this tiny little box in my hometown (kinda. its complicated bc ive lived where i am now longer than the place i was born, but my birthplace will always be my hometown, to me.) so i was reaching for experiences so drastically different from the life id known.

but then i went to college out of state. 10h from home, almost in canada. and i did spend a good chunk of my first two years partying exactly like i described: work until 8/9, go home eat something fatty and greasy, change into smth slutty and cool, and go out with my friends and stay out until the wee hours, making out and dancing with whoever asked. two one night stands came of it, both embarrassing for different reasons (thats a whole different post lmao but i dont regret either, actually) but i had so much fun. i felt free. like i could truly be myself for the first time in my life

and then i became disabled.

(caveat: ive probably been disabled my whole life, but i simply. never noticed. i didnt know it wasnt normal to be in pain, because i didnt know what 'pain-free' meant. it wasnt until i started making diasbled and crippled friends that they made me realize that living at a 4/5 on the pain scale All The Time is in fact not normal)

i got a terrible cold my first thanksgiving. spent the entire break on the couch in the lounge sniffling and coughing, trash can, tissues, hand sanitizer, and lotion all right next to me because i was DETERMINED not to get anyone sick (context: this was pre covid. wearing masks was like. not a thought.) despite everyone having gone home/away for the break. i got my first (and only) case of viral pink eye. i had bronchitis until april. that same january, while i still had bronchitis, my knees suddenly swelled up so badly i couldnt move for two days. my knees have ached almost daily since then.

from there, it was simply a cascade failure of things. fingers and wrist hurt constantly, no matter what i did or what brace i wore. (hint: i ended up having de quervaines tenosynovitis and had to have surgery bc it went untreated for 5+ years) back was constantly cramping. feet hurt after only a four hour shift. stairs became impossible. i was constantly exhausted, no matter what i did.

then, in december 2020, i was home like everyone else, and i was working in my mom's office full time while also attending classes full time remotely (like everyone else). my mom took a week off. finals week. she left me in charge, since i was the second most senior person in the office with my roughly two years experience. my half sister was demanding to know why our other sister wouldnt talk to her after she borrowed our car to go see our estranged father. again. (we gave her permission to borrow the car, but it still hurt). the exhaustion was getting worse and worse until thursday of that week. my coworker was threatening to call my mom to come pick me up because i couldnt think, could barely talk, and i was nodding off at my desk. and then my half sister called out of nowhere and wanted to talk. and i was so tired, so done with EVERYTHING, i let her have it. that took the last bit of my energy and i told my coworker to call my mom.

i spent a week in bed with the worst pain in my life. my entire body ACHED. my cat couldnt lay on me because it felt like i was being crushed to death my a bed of needles. my elbow swelled up so badly i could hardly move it. i could barely sit up to eat or stand to go pee. i slept SO MUCH.

i returned to work maybe a week or two after. i maybe finished my classes but i hoenstly dont remember. i moved back up to school in jan/feb with covid restrictions so i could finish my senior year on campus. i couldnt walk to the mail room and back without needing a nap. i couldnt go to starbucks and bring back two coffees without needing a break in the middle of my walk. i went to the health services because something wasnt right.

after some tests and lots of arguing with some shitty doctors and PTs, the light of my life, dr k diagnosed me with chronic fatigue. i finally had an answer for all my issues.

i thought that was it.

that summer, june/july 2021, i developed postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome and fought to get it taken seriously. two er trips with elevated heart rate, brain fog, and high bp, and it took the second trip to have them take me SERIOUSLY and get a referral. the cardiologist told me i was fat and just needed to exercise more, the three heart monitors don't show stereotypical tachycardic events, so im just experiencing elevated heart rates. i was fine. finally convince him to put me on propranolol, the "as needed" dose, and fuck off when he says he wants to work me off them and get me exercising.

i found a doctor who took me seriously and listened when i said "i have x problem. i would like a solution." and gave me referral after referral after referral, chasing more and more diagnoses. she never once made me feel insane for my symptoms, never made me feel unheard, and she never failed to make me cry in relief every time i went to see her and didnt have to fight for just an ounce of care.

since then, ive been diagnosed with moderate asthma, psoriasis, fibromyalgia, and potentially (almost assuredly) hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome. (for those of you keeping track, thats six diagnoses in four years) dr m, my savior, retired this year, and ive found a new doctor im hoping i can teach to treat me with the same care and respect. shes already given me a second referral to gastroenterology for my stomach issues (which... might just be from too much ibuprofen... :) rip me) and neurology bc my migraines that have crippled me for upwards of a month before are no longer being managed by my meds and i need something more specific before i start new meds. she said shed find me a doctor to dx heds, bc shes still new and wasnt comfortable with the tests required and didnt want to do it wrong, which endears her to me just a little more

but all of ^^^ that is just a big winding way to say that my life has changed a LOT since i graduated high school. i can no longer stand for long periods of time. i cant lift more than maybe 5-10lbs, and i certainly cant carry it for any significant length of time. i get migraines so easily. my joints slip out of place if i step wrong. i cant go out one night and expect to be up and at'em early the next day. i have to weigh my energy vs what i want to get done vs what needs to get done, and most days, nothing gets done at all.

and sometimes, usually when i get a new diagnosis and a new complication to my life, i mourn the life i used to dream about for myself. i mourn the things ive had to lose out on because my reality has changed so drastically. i cant go to amusement parks anymore. i cant go to standing-room-only concerts. i cant go to the grocery by myself. and you can forget doing things like wandering through the mall to kill time or going for a leisurely walk around the park.

being disabled is not the worst thing to happen to me, and i dont think im damaged or broken or anything like that. despite all the pain and complications and accomodations i have and need, i love myself the way i am. after all, i am now the funniest fucking person in ANY room. i dont think i want it back, because i love the life i have now (meaningful volunteer work, a dnd group i love, and a partner i thank the stars for regularly). but sometimes, its hard not to mourn the life i thought id have

[lingy910y]

Weekly Tag Wednesday Friday

thanks @lupeloto for creating the game and @mybrainismelted for tagging me

favorite tv show? shameless

favorite character? ian

favorite relationship in the show? gallavich

favorite sibling relationship in the show? ian and lip. also if you enjoy their relationship this edit will fucking kill you

favorite art form? books but specifically fanfics ty

a talent you wish you had? rn it’s sewing…then i can make clothes for my plushies

what is one thing that can always make your day better? coming onto tumblr dot com and seeing notes, fandom events/games, or amazing gifsets/fics/art on the dash

favorite fictional character of all time? still ian

dream place to travel to? japan

you’re planning a huge party, what’s the theme? gallavich wedding inspired 😌

favorite pizza topping of all time? plain cheese thanks

you can pick one celebrity to have dinner with…who? cameron monaghan yes my answers are very predictable

favorite movie that you kinda know is bad but still love? i think most of my fav movies are perfect despite popular opinion but the rwrb film…it just changed too much things so it’s not as good as the book but still good

how would you describe your style? casual

finally, something making you smile this week? my decomytree messages 🥰

combining that with last week's bc i didn't do it (yes this is the first time i've done a weekly tag wednesday the week after) thanks kat and @energievie for tagging me

choose a fandom: shameless

how did you first hear about it? i remember hearing abt it here and there on social media but not paying attention cause i wasn’t into live action at the time. i purposely searched up “top 10 canon gay ships” bc i was too frustrated with queerbait lmao. everyone was praising gallavich so i looked them up and gallavich scenes welcomed me with open arms 😌

do you own only merch? yes! from the gallacrafts shop: paper dolls stickers, breakfast boys stickers and stained glass window pin. i lost my fimo boys pin and i’ll never be over it 😔 also two keychains, three stickers, four fake id cards, two instagram cards, and a ring necklace with “shameless” embroidered on it that came with my gallavich plushies 🥺🥺

what thing involving this fandom do you think non-fans would be surprised to hear? seconding deanna—how it’s majorly a supportive community despite a quite tragic and graphic show

favorite character? the chick from the movie brave

in 5 words explain why they’re your fav: industrious, ambitious, conscientious, work ethic

choose another fandom: bnha

what’s your least favorite thing about the source material? the current war arc cause the pacing sucks

favorite ship: bkdk

best fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31715602/chapters/78496537

one of the only longfics i ever liked bc it just got me so emotionally invested in updates 😭

describe the vibe of the fandom in 5 words: drama, competitive, complain, talented, discourse……….yeah

what’s your name spelled backwards? gnil

tell you how old you are the way a three year old might: i will be a grown up next year

what is your favorite ice cream? vanilla

tell me something you wish more people knew about you: how much hours i spend ruminating bc of anxiety on some days and how hard it is to control

where is home for you? my bed

if you could be an anthropomorphized stuffed animal, what stuffie would you want to be? idk ppl say i’m like a dog

the movie you wish everyone would watch: eeaoo, still think it’s an universal movie

what makes you really emotional lately? ppl saying nice things abt my fics, rewatching shamey with my friend

are you okay? kinda

tagging no one cause it's too much to read

[spidersfence]

quiet little General Vent Post time, under the readmore so it doesn't clog up any dashes

so. like. i understand why people give me advice like this, it's the gut instinct, the knee-jerk reaction when someone says "i'm feeling burnt out and kind of lonely," but. it is so clear when someone has never had to deal with chronic exhaustion.

one of my (now former) coworkers asked me the other day why i wasn't working somewhere better. i'm smart, i'm bilingual (for the most part lmao), i'm capable, etc. my response was that this job was the only one that wanted me. nowhere else reached out. so she asked what my dream job would be, and… i didn't have an answer. i don't have a dream job at the moment. the dream would be not needing a job. this one is sucking all the energy and life out of me. i get back to my apartment and barely have the spoons to bathe before passing the hell out. food is a struggle, both to make and consistently eat. i tried to tell my coworker all this, and her only response was, "it's all about the effort you put in!" and the way she said it, combined with whatever it was she said before and after, heavily implied that i was not currently putting in enough effort.

i don't have any more effort to put in. i'm on the brink of burnout as it is.

and when my father—who i already have a shaky relationship with—tells me to "find my [own friend group]" (he used. a different term.), whether it be theatre (there is no local theatre in this town, just the university's theatre department) or a lit club or whatever… i want to just look at him and repeat, "this job is taking all of my energy. i physically cannot drag myself out of bed after work to go to a book club meeting." i want to sing and paint and write and hike and all that shit. i do. i want to.

but my body is reclaiming the rest time that i cannot give it during work hours. i spend my whole weekend every week just catching up on sleep. it's soul-crushing.

…i did notice that the only other quote-unquote "Real" full-time job i've had, the one at staples, i was there for four months. started in january, gave my two-weeks halfway through april. i started this job at the end of may. we're at that four-month point. i'm not planning on quitting. yet. but. i found that interesting.

[kyufessions]

Missing Person

synopsis: you’ve been happily dating your boyfriend, mark lee, for the past two years. but what happens when all of a sudden your best friend sends you a missing persons article and your boyfriend is listed as missing for the past three years?

pairings: boyfriend! mark lee x g.n. reader

genre: thriller/horror

warnings: blood, knives, killing, physical fighting

word count: 7.1k

a/n: in no way do i depict any member of nct like this, especially mark lee. i just wanted to write something dark for halloween so here we are. i had many ideas for this one but decided to make it shorter lmao. hope you enjoy ~

taglist: @joyumo @lovingvoidgoatee

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana

rain drops pelted the train window as you stared out into the setting sun, creamsicle skies mixing with a vital red that brought your nerves to a halt at the scenery behind the glass. normally you’d hate the summer rain, since it always seemed to ruin any plans you had, but being stuck inside this moving train with thirteen hours left with nothing to do but binge watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine reruns on Hulu and take occasional naps made you realize that maybe it wasn’t all too bad- maybe there was some beauty in things that you hated. with pink sweat$’s 17 playing at full volume in your airpods and a mug full of hot cocoa in both of your hands, you felt like you were in some romantic film. you know, the pretty individual staring out into the trees as they admire the fast-moving world outside all while the handsome stranger across the way from them is admiring their effortless beauty. and, truth be told, that’s what was happening. you just didn’t know until you saw someone sit across from you at the corner of your eye, making you turn your head to greet them and ask if you had bothered them in any way.

the handsome stranger smiled at you, making you smile back as you removed one of your earbuds from your ear to give him some of your attention. his blonde hair swooped over just above his eyebrows underneath his navy blue beanie that complimented his blue and white striped button-up, a white tank top underneath it. the way his smile brightened up his face made you feel comforted, almost like a warm hug. you watched as his frames fell down to the tip of his nose, making him scrunch up his nose in an attempt to bring them back up to their previous position.

a giggle escaped your lips as you watched him before speaking up. “hello, may i help you? did i bother you at all? i’m sorry if-“

he shook his head in disagreement, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “no no, you didn’t. you just seem pretty chill and i wanted to say hi, if that’s alright.”

for the rest of the ride, you both sat in those spots talking about everything yet nothing all at the same time. he told you all about how he was moving across the country due to getting an amazing job offer fresh out of college, and you exchanged your story as well with him as if you had known him for all your life. you told him about your family, your pets, and the reason for you moving across the country as well: transferring from a two year college to finish off your degree in psychology in a four year university. with each word that left your mouth, he listened with great intent.

and that’s what he did for your entire relationship. he always listened, always showed how much he cared, and never made you feel less than. even during his busiest days in the music studio where he co-wrote songs and even produced some days, he always found the time for you regardless of his schedule. and vice versa; with your busy college schedule and part time job you always made sure to make time for him as well. whether it be study dates where he helped you study for upcoming exams or texting him during work when you were able to sneak onto your phone for five seconds. your dorm mate even got so used to mark staying over that he ended up having designated days where he would spend some nights. but they never minded since he always brought over snacks and dinner for you all.

Mark Lee was a dream come true, a prince charming if you will. Everyone seemed to love being around him and having him in their life, whether it was the occasional meeting of a stranger in line to get coffee and he pays for your drink during the early morning rush or a friend that you kept close to you because he changed your life for the better. Everyday you were reminded of just how lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, even before you both made it official and made your switch from strangers, to friends, to partners. Mark as a partner was even better than you could’ve imagined: flowers and chocolates after a long hard day of exams or work, movie nights where he feeds you pepperoni pizza when you’re half asleep and halfway done with the movie you picked out for you both, little encouraging notes in your lunch bags, even offers you massages when you’re feeling stressed out from everyday life. He was the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend; you couldn’t ask for more or less from him.

On your one year anniversary, he even wrote you an entire song dedicated the past year and a half together, from when you first met on the train to your last special occasion spent together. He even made a small picnic for you both in his personal office space where he produced and wrote his music, accompanied with a woven wicker full of watermelon, two mini cakes baked from a local bakery you both frequented, along with champagne with tall glasses and other of your favorite foods. Alcohol entered your body as you listened to mark sing to you his song, a slow beat playing through the speakers and his fingers strumming on his acoustic guitar. his small raps cut you off guard but in the best way possible; you loved everything about his sweet gesture and felt yourself falling more deeply in love with him.

on your second year anniversary, he made you another song. but not only did he sing it to you, he sang it to you in front of others on the piano. he had rented out a restaurant for you both to enjoy endless meals for the night, dressed up in very fancy attire that you knew you’d only be able to wear a handful of times before growing out of it. an hour down and reminiscent memories being shared between you two, he randomly got up from his seat and walked down to the grand piano in the middle of the room. you watched him in confusion, your head cocked to the side as you asked him what he was doing. he just smiled at you lovingly as per usual, sitting down on the bench and cracking his knuckles quickly before he started singing along to the melody his fingers played. tears welled up in your eyes at the gesture, his words stinging beautifully as you listened to every confession. falling in love with mark was the easiest thing you had ever done.

two and a half years later here you both were, sharing an expensive loft in the city while working your dream jobs. all the while happily together without any pressure of future marriage or kids from family and friends. your life was perfect, utterly perfect. if anything it was more storybook, something only young kids dreamt of. a happy couple with well paying jobs living in a big city, accompanied with the presence of a five month old ragdoll kitten. everything seemed perfect.

today was just another morning, or so it seemed. only difference was you both were working from home today. mark had his own room to work in when he had to focus on his work while you worked in the bedroom or kitchen; you didn’t mind not having your own space since mark kept his distance when you were busy at work. on days when he worked as well, you both forgot about the existence of one another while you worked for a bit. but with being so secure in your relationship neither of you minded at all.

kissing his puffy morning cheeks, you rubbed your thumb along the stubble on his chin as the rising sun illuminated his soft facial features you never got tired of waking up next to. you watched as he scrunched up his nose lazily, fluttering his eyes open slowly to allow his eyes to gradually adjust to the bright rays. the chirping of birds were mere background noise to the tired chuckles your boyfriend let out as you attacked his face with wet kisses, causing a gleaming smile to spread across your lips.

his arms laid around your waist securely, bringing you closer into his bare chest. “good morning to you too.” he mumbled, his morning voice deep and somewhat raspy.

you pulled your lips from his cheek and down to his lips, pecking it a few times before pulling away and allowing your head to hit the pillow once again. “morning, handsome.”

he shuffled under the sheets, throwing his legs over the end of the bed and rising to his feet. you watched as he slipped on his glasses, adjusting them on his nose as he turned to look down at his partner. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight below him on the bed: you with your head in your hands, staring up at him admirably with a cheeky grin and your morning bed head sticking up in different directions. “pancakes for breakfast, my love?” he questioned as he leaned down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

the small gesture made your heart flutter immediately, causing your smile to grow wider. “yes please.” you responded, swinging your feet in the air dramatically.

he just ruffled your hair playfully before turning on his heels and leaving the room to start on the pancakes he just promised you. standing to your feet, you grabbed some fresh underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt of mark’s before walking down the hall to the bathroom. as you turn on the hot water, you hear the rustling of the pans in the kitchen on the first floor. you undress out of your clothing, tossing them into the dirty hamper and stepping into the steaming hot shower. with the door cracked slightly open, the sweet smell of banana and cinnamon pancakes fill your nose making you feel more awake and ready to take on the day full of zoom meetings and article writing. you hum to a tune mark recently showed you of his recent work he was planning on sending to a big company for approval, excited to be able to hear another hit of his on the radio and secretly knowing it’s your boyfriend who wrote and produced the song. mark being a ghost writer only hurt when you were reminded you couldn’t show off his creations to the world, other than that you were always very supportive and constantly told people of his career- you just couldn’t expose which hit songs he wrote and produced and for who.

even though mark was very friendly and popular locally, he was also very secretive about certain things such as his past and family. he was very brief about his siblings and childhood, only ever sharing about how his parents lived in canada and he barely spoke to them due to a falling out. whenever you asked, he dismissed it and said it wasn’t important since it was ‘all in the past’. whenever you asked how his childhood was, his regular bubbly personality changed to one full of tension. his frown was evident and eyes full of sorrow, making you change the subject to something else entirely that brought back the mark you had always known. so you never pondered much on the thought of it since everything else he did for you drowned out his secrets.

stepping out of the shower and onto the fluffy carpet on the floor, you dried yourself off with your velvet black towel and walked up to the mirror to start doing your morning routine. multiple steps later, you slipped on your clothing and matching house slippers with your boyfriend that he surprised you with last weekend. you rubbed some product into your hair before walking out of the bathroom and down the industrial spiral staircase, shuffling towards the soft vocals of Bazzi that bounced off the walls of the small kitchen. the sight of your boyfriend in his matching slippers, naked torso, and plain black boxers made your face light up. as previously stated: everything was perfect.

you shared a breakfast with him for the next hour as the cat took turns napping in each of your laps, ultimately deciding to sleep in yours for the last twenty minutes before you switched positions to start your work. mark happily cleaned everything up, not one complaint leaving his lips as he hummed quietly to himself as to not disturb your workday. you caught him catching glimpses at you as you attended a zoom meeting and waved bye to him off camera as he left the room to go do his work for the day.

you always wanted to see his personal at-home office, see how he decorated it or even watch him work his magic. but that was another secret he wanted to keep to himself, always making sure to lock the door behind himself as he exited and entered. he even went as far as to get a code lock for the door and not letting you know the code. one time you even tried every combination it allowed you to while he was out running errands but failed at every attempt you made. curiosity struck you from time to time at what he was hiding behind that wooden door, but you never questioned it since you knew it wasn’t any malicious intent behind it. i mean, he could never do anything wrong. he was mark lee. your loving boyfriend of two years who never did you wrong. so why would he start now?

by the time your zoom meeting ended, it was three in the afternoon and time for checking emails. logging into your emails, you noticed one labeled IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ ASAP from your close friend, jungwoo. he had become a close friend during your time in college, then when you both got accepted into the same company you both became even closer; you now thought of him as a brother. you automatically opened the email, concern flooding your brain as to why he emailed you in all caps at three in the morning. he was always known to be an early bird, even in your college days, so this was very unexpected and a bit odd. nonetheless, you opened the email and read his message attached with a link to a webpage.

i know it’s late, i’m sorry. but you need to see this. let me know when you get this.

was all it said above the link to a missing persons webpage. you clicked it, unsure of what she seemed so scared of in her email. but once you opened the page and scrolled down a bit, you understood. it was a bunch of different people, raging from missing for as long as five years to three months. but somewhere along the middle, you stopped.

impossible. this has to be some kind of sick joke. the face on your screen has to be some edit that one of your friends made as some distasteful prank. but the type of friends you had rarely pulled pranks and if they did they were minuscule and forgetful. this, this was different. an evil prank if there ever was one.

down the hall, the familiar creaking of your boyfriends work studio door was hearing opening. as his footsteps jogged down the steps towards your direction, you quickly shut your laptop closed and started packing up your items, pretending you had finished all your work for the day even though it wasn’t even four in the afternoon yet. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body from behind startled you, making you jump in his arms at the sudden contact.

“woah, are you good babe?” mark asked you as he moved his face down towards yours, planting a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away to stare at you lovingly.

the pit in your stomach wasn’t comforting in the slightest, if anything it made you want to vomit up all your emotions onto him and run away from your shared apartment. but you couldn’t do that; you had no idea what would even come of it. there had to be an explanation to all this.

you put on your best fake smile, pecking the lips you’ve loved for the past two years that suddenly felt more cold than warm. “sorry, was deep into packing everything up. i just finished for the day!” you attempted to sound excited that you had finished for the day, smiling from ear to ear and believable as you could.

luckily, it worked. mark had a voice telling him something was wrong with you, that something was up, but he ignored it because he trusted you with every fiber of his being. his one hand moved from your body to your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “so early? i thought your work day ended at four thirty?”

“it does,” you started as you wiggled from his grip attempting to stand up from your seat at the dining table. thinking of an excuse to throw him off your trail, you said it in an aggravated tone to show you were at least somewhat serious. well, you weren’t. but you didn’t want him to know that. “but i forgot one of my files at the office for tomorrow and have to run to go get it really quick.”

he just nodded, running a hand through your hair as he placed another loving kiss to your jaw. a fake giggle left your lips, a fake giggle that seemed nothing but real to your boyfriend. he might not buy what you’re selling him, but he knows there’s nothing malicious behind your potential fake lie. if anything he assumed it was for a surprise for him. “tacos tonight? my treat, i’ll place the order online for pickup.”

“sure babe.” you grabbed your briefcase and shut it tightly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door to slip on some sneakers. “taco bell or the taco place off of Woodbury and 15th?”

“Woodbury and 15th, duh. they have the best tacos around.” he followed behind you like a lost puppy, watching as you threw on your jean jacket and grabbed your keys from the key hook. “what time should i place it for pickup?”

you looked up in thought, pondering what time it would be best. “four thirty sounds good enough. should be done picking up my files and make it there in time for it to still be hot enough for us to eat when i return. do you need anything while i’m out?”

with a swift shake of his head and a goodbye kiss, you exchanged ‘see you later''’s as you exited the apartment and went down into the parking garage to your car. when you entered the vehicle, you threw your briefcase that you didn’t even need in the backseat so you could grip tightly onto the steering wheel in frustration.

why was your boyfriend, mark lee, on a missing persons list? and why did it say he went missing nearly three years ago? you tried convincing yourself it was a stupid website, a dumb website someone made up to trick you and get a laugh. but it was also an official government website so it couldn’t be fake. it was real. too real.

holding back tears as you drove down to your friend's home, you pulled into his parking lot and ran straight into the building. texting or calling him hadn’t even crossed your mind, you needed to talk to him face to face about this. how did he even find this webpage? when did he find it? was he just as confused as you were? nothing made sense and you just needed answers, any answer that remotely made sense would do at this point in time. within the first two knocks you were face to face with jungwoo, walking straight past him and into his living room with no hesitation in your step. you waited till he closed the door to even attempt at speaking.

“what the fuck?” was all you could say as you stared into the eyes of your distraught friend, taking a seat on his couch before putting your head in your heads.

he made her way to you cautiously, making sure to stay his distance since you seemed so upset by the news. “i found it last night and sent it to you right away. it makes no sense. im just as confused as you are.”

his hand resting on your shoulder brought you comfort, not much comfort but a pinch of what you were craving from anyone but mark- if that was even his real name. “i don’t know what to do.” you turned to face him, small tears streaming down your face that he subconsciously wiped away with his thumb. “do i ask him about it? i mean i met him two and a half years ago and it says he went missing three years ago, so i met him six months after he was reported missing.”

jungwoo shook his head right away. “no, don’t. we don’t even really know him-“

“i do-“

“no you don’t.” he interrupted, his voice remaining as calm as possible. “nobody does. i mean, what if he ran away from doing something terrible? what if he hurt someone?”

“he wouldn’t do that!” you yelled, more tears stinging your eyes as your best friend spoke. you watched his expression change to hurt, making him back away from you and over towards the other end of the couch. “no, i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m just- he just seemed so lovely. maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

he picked up his nearly empty wine glass, taking a sip as he leaned against the armrest. “for three years?” watching you crumble in front of his own eyes made his heart break into pieces; he never wanted to see you like this. “listen, i did as much research as i possibly could before passing out on my laptop and made a google doc about it, i could share it with you if you’d like and we can go over it together tomorrow? when you’re more calm.”

nodding in agreement, you wept in his arms for a bit before leaving his apartment and driving off to pick up the tacos mark ordered in. as you walked up to the vendor, he asked if you were okay since it seemed you were crying. you reassured him you were okay and there was nothing to worry about, smiling along with your lie to try and mask it as a truth. he didn’t buy it but gave you your tacos after payment anyway and wished you a goodnight, telling you to tell mark he said hello.

you made sure your face look somewhat normal before exiting the car and heading towards the elevator of your shared apartment, fiddling with the plastic bag out of habit due to your nerves. as you opened the front door, you plastered on your fakest, brightest smile so mark wouldn’t suspect a thing. and he didn’t, at all. his head shot in your direction as he laid across the sofa, jumping to his feet to go greet you and help you carry in your tacos and briefcase. his lips that greeted you no longer felt like safety, but instead of betrayal.

“missed you, babe.” he commented as he made his way into the kitchen, his smile never leaving his face.

“missed you more!” you shouted in reply, hanging your jacket back up before making your way to the couch to plop down in thought. how were you supposed to act normal around him, knowing he’s a supposed missing person?

the next morning you woke up an hour earlier than normal, wiggling your way out of your boyfriend's grip and quietly making your way downstairs to start the coffee and make some eggs with bacon. as you slipped on your morning cup of energizer, you read the google doc jungwoo had shared with you the previous night. you were reading every bullet point and reading every article he attached.

each article and point he made was more shocking than the last. one article mentioned how there was a late teen who went missing in ontario, canada with an attached photo of what seemed to be a younger version of your boyfriend. you couldn’t even attempt to convince yourself it was someone different- the resemblance was uncanny. the only difference was the name in the article was Minhyung Lee instead of Mark, but besides that there were no differences. a different article went on to explain his childhood, how he was always a troubled kid who always found himself in detention or in different juvenile detention centers. it continued on explaining how despite all of those challenges, he was such a great guy up until the incident.

the article never went into detail or said-incident, but it mentioned the slaying of three family members. reading just that small blurb left you sick to your stomach, but even more so after it explained that after the bodies were discovered in his home he was never seen again. how if anyone ever came across him to not interact or draw suspicion, but instead dial 911 and inform authorities of his whereabouts.

you were so caught up in reading the article you didn’t even hear mark coming down the stairs and enter the kitchen, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets and starting to pour himself a cup.

“you okay, babe? what’s wrong, bad nights sleep?” he questioned, breaking you out of your daze.

your eyes immediately darted to him, smiling warmly at him to withdraw suspicion of you being awake so early. “you could say that again.” closing your laptop, you made your way over towards the stove and moved the fully cooked bacon and sunny side up eggs onto a plate for him. you turned to face him and noticed him already dressed for the day, taking one last swig of coffee before grabbing his keys from the small bowl on the island counter.

he noticed your confusion and then the plate of eggs, frowning apologetically before grabbing a piece of bacon and shoving it into his mouth. “i don’t have time to eat this morning, i have an important meeting then a long day ahead of me. i’m sorry, i should’ve said something sooner.”

you shook your head in disagreement, leaning over to peck his lips before placing a small one on his cheek. “it’s okay, just make sure to eat when you can and to let me know when you get to work so i know you’re safe.”

he mumbled a soft ‘shit’ as he realized the time, noticing that if he didnt leave now he would be late. he placed his mug down swiftly before placing a sloppy kiss on your forehead and running out the door. normally you’d get giddy about him running late while seeming very professional, the sight being too cute for you to handle. but that pit in the bottom of your stomach wouldn’t leave no matter how much you wish it did. you wish everything was just some sort of sick nightmare and that your loving boyfriend of two years wasn’t some sort of potential killer from canada who’s been missing for three years.

as soon as he left, you called your friend and luckily he answered. you went over the facts you both found, or more so he found and you caught up on. jungwoo comforted you the best he could over the phone, saying you both would figure out a solution together. when you told him mark was gone in the studio all day till late, a lightbulb went off on top of his head.

“try sneaking into his office.” he suggested, running a nervous hand through his hair.

your eyes widened at the thought. “what? but i’ve tried every possible combination, it’s useless.”

“but what if he used the anniversary of the day he committed the crimes?”

you bit down on your lip, pondering for a moment. “but we don’t even know the date-“

“july twenty fifth.” he interrupted. “one of the last articles i sent you mentioned it, but i’m guessing you didn’t finish reading it all?”

“no, mark interrupted me before i could finish the whole doc.” you sighed, ultimately deciding to take on your friend's idea and walking up the stairs towards his at-home studio. “if i’m going to do this, please stay on the phone with me.”

jungwoo reassured you he wouldn’t hang up at all, and he never did. you tried the numbers of the date he provided, but the red blinking light signaled it was wrong.

“it didn’t work.” you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“instead of 0725 try 2507, switch it around.” your best friend suggested, anticipation stringing through his words.

after typing in the numbers backwards, the green lights signaled you could open the door and enter inside. wasting no time, you swung open the door and was greeted with something you didn’t expect. it didn’t look anything like a home studio, but instead a lonely mahogany desk with piles of different color coordinated folders and files scattered across the top of it with very few sitting on the floor around the chair. stepping inside, you looked around and noticed a duffel bag sitting at the corner of the room near the window that was closed off with wooden panels. you slowly made your way over there, being cautious not to step on anything or move anything out of place.

the bag itself was already zipped halfway open, allowing you to be able to peek inside and notice some bloody knives sticking out of the side. your eyes widened, making you take a few steps back into the closet of the room. when first buying this loft, you hadn’t noticed this particular closet. but granted you haven’t been inside this room for several months now so you might’ve forgotten it. but since you let your curiosity get the best of you, you found your fingers sliding it open and being greeted by nothing. there was nothing but black clothing, extra sneakers that were also black, but that was until you noticed something dangling from the ceiling: a small rope. you knew you shouldn’t open it, you knew you should’ve just called the cops or even answer your friend who was still on the phone screaming at you to answer him, but you did the stupid thing you knew you shouldn’t have and opened it.

down came a set of wooden stairs leading up to something that seemed to be an attic, or a makeshift attic of some sorts. as the stairs came down, some movement was heard and a light popped on in the middle of the room. you took in a big breath of air before climbing up the dingy stairs and peaking in the room. inside seemed empty, nothing but an extra mattress and a few boxes. but when you heard some shuffling from the corner behind you, you whipped your head in it’s direction and noticed a man sitting there chained up to the wall.

the sight alone almost made you drop your phone but thankfully you tightened the grip on it which caused it to stay in your hands. the man’s eyes widened as well, trying his best to say words but failing to do so as a ball gag was in his mouth. in the background of all this was your friend on the line, asking what all the commotion was. it wasn’t until he said he was going to send the cops that you spoke up.

“this is so much deeper than we thought, jungwoo.” you said to him, making him yell a ‘what’ on the other end. “send the cops. give them the code to my apartment door. tell them there’s a man in the attic.” was all you said before hanging up on him.

leaving your best friend in confusion, you fully pulled yourself into the attic and crawled over towards the scared man. although he was excited to see someone else for a change, he was also scared you were part of what mark had going on. he cowered in fear, backing up into the wall as he watched you remove the ball gag from his mouth. he was unsure whether to scream or just stare, so he opted out on just staring at the stranger in front of him.

you stared back, not sure what to even say to him. “what’s your name?” you asked him, putting the ball gag to the side of him as you stared down at his condition. his clothes were dirty, ripped at some edges and obviously had been worn out for quite some time now. the sight made you frown, tears welling up in the back of your throat. but you kept them down, you had to for this stranger that was being held captive by your boyfriend for some unknown reason to you.

“taeil. moon taeil.” he replied, his voice sounding dry and broken. “who are you? please help me, i’ve been up here for months.”

suddenly, you heard the front door of your apartment open and mark shout out that he forgot something and apologizing for disturbing your work. eyes widening, you slip back on the ball gag as tears fall from his eyes, quiet mumbles of disagreement falling from his lips being heard from him before you tighten it on him. you quietly pull up the rope to hide the stairs, making sure it closed tightly before shuffling around to find a place to hide. you ultimately decided on the abnormally large yet dusty toy trunk in another corner of the room, unlocking it quickly and squeezing in as tightly as you could before you heard mark pull down the rope to enter the attic.

you heard him tsk as he crawled up the creaky wooden steps, an obvious smile on his lips as he spoke. “you’re lucky this room is soundproof, you're moving around way too much for my liking.” he said, his tone different from his usual one. this one was threatening, more scary and off putting.

taeil’s muffled cries were filling the room, earning a small laugh from mark. this laugh was different as well, very sarcastic and something fueled by rage. “i have a proposition for you, taeil.” you heard something being picked up from the floor, earning a loud muffled scream to be heard from the chained up stranger. “tell me where they are, and i won’t kill you tonight like i planned.”

your eyes widened. he couldn’t possibly be talking about you, could he? no, it’s impossible. you’ve been quiet this whole time, and you made sure to not leave a trace that you had been in his ‘studio’. your mind flooded with what he was referencing, but everything kept pointing back to you. and what does he mean tonight? is that why he was staying at work late and encouraged you to go out and have fun with audrey? so he could sneak home early and get rid of taeil?

a shake of some chains could be heard, signaling taeil had shaken his head. “come on, i know they’re in here somewhere. i saw on the camera, now where are they?” fuck. you didn’t even notice any cameras. “if you tell me, i’ll let you go right now.”

another shake of the chain and you soon heard footsteps approaching the toy trunk, meaning taeil gave you up. as much as you wanted to hate him for telling mark, you probably would’ve done the same if you were in his situation. you could’ve sworn your breathing stopped as you heard the lock twist on the toy trunk, soon the dim lighting of the attic showing you your boyfriend with a knife between his fingers. he smiled down at you, not with love or admiration but with something sinister.

he shook his head with a chuckle, kneeling down to your eye level as he teased you with the already bloody knife. the blood seemed recent, and when you glanced over at taeil for a split second you noticed a fresh mark across his chest that was dripping from a fresh wound. attempting to mask your fear was no use, even if you did try your hardest to. mark was able to see right through you, the mark you thought you knew.

“how’d you figure it out, huh?” he brought the knife down to your cheek, trailing the cold metal along your cheekbone with gradual pressure. “how long have you known?”

his evil smile never once left his face, making your insides churn in disgust. you swallowed hard before responding, mentally yelling at yourself not to stutter as you replied to his questions. “FBI’s missing persons list, i’ve known for two days.”

“two days and you’re already getting this nosey? tsk tsk, babe.” the knife trailed down to your jawline, the pressure starting to sting when it starts to draw some blood. “you’re so cute, trying to save little taeil over here but he gave you up without a thought thinking i’d actually let him go.”

screams were heard through taeil’s ball gag, making you both turn to look at him as tears fell from his eyes. without a thought, you quickly kicked mark in the face with your foot with a swift yet hard kick. watching him fall onto his back and the knife slide across the wooden flooring, you jump out of the trunk and run towards the knife, picking it up and climbing down the attic stairs. an aggravated groan was heard from mark as you touched the floor of his supposed studio, running out into the hall and hearing him follow behind you shortly after. you heard him scream after you followed by him grabbing at the shirt you were wearing that was coincidentally his. he pulled you back harshly, causing you to slide across the floor and towards the industrial stairs with the knife falling down to the first floor.

you crawled backwards down the stairs, kicking at him as you attempted to escape. eventually, he fell back onto the floor once more which gave you a few seconds to jump to your feet and attempt to run down to first floor and out the door. but before you could, mark was quick to his feet and grabbed your shoulders. he tried to push you over the railing of the spiral staircase, but you were a fighter. always were, and always will be. you fought back just as hard, even if half of your body was dangling off the edge of the railing and his hands around your neck in attempt to weaken you. in one motion, you brought your knee up to his crotch hard which made him groan and loosen his grip on you. taking this small window of opportunity, you pushed him back and off of the railing successfully.

the noise it made when he fell made you cover your ears, the crack and imagery of his body limp out across the floor with blood pouring out at a rapid rate made you nearly vomit. you slowly made your way down the stairs and towards the front door, not even sparing a glance in the direction of your boyfriend. before you could

turn the handle, the door swung open and in front of you were policed officers with their guns pulled out accompanied by your best friend. all the officers rushed past you and into the apartment while you fell into the comforting arms of jungwoo, your tears finally escaping from your eyes.

you sat on the balcony of jungwoo’s apartment as you read the new article written about mark. it was ten months after the incident had occurred, and people were still writing about everything that happened; even youtubers were making videos about it and netflix and peacock both reached out for documentaries or a dramatic remake of your trauma. of course you declined, even if the seven digit numbers they offered were the tiniest bit tempting.

the full story about mark shocked you to your core, because the mark that you met and loved all those years was not the same mark who tried to kill you that day. after fleeing canada successfully, he took the next amtrak train out to the farthest city and figured he’d wing it when he got there. which he ended up doing successfully. he ended up meeting poor taeil, becoming close friends with him and eventually masking as him in daily life. taeil was a fresh college graduate starting at a new company, and after mark found that out he decided to chain him up in taeil’s own apartment for months and stealing his identity. he posed as taeil at work and did a damn well good job at it. then once you both decided to move in together, he moved taeil up to his ‘at home studio’ attic and the days you thought he was working from home, he was really torturing taeil up in the secret room behind the closet he had built in. every sadistic detail about the past three years was written down in a leather journal he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk, every detail of how he hurt his family, tortured and kidnapped taeil, and how much he loved you. everything was very sick and twisted.

as the summer rain pelted against the metal railing, you couldn’t help but shudder in disgust at the sight and noise. jungwoo, who was sitting beside you noticed this and decided to bring it up. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you nodded, taking a sip from your coffee mug as you looked out to the setting sun. the oranges and reds mixed together beautifully, but the view just made you upset if anything. “i’m fine. i just hate the summer rain.”

maybe there wasn’t always beauty in the things you hate.

[whiskeynwriting]

Watch Me

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) dirty talk, spanking, slight degradation (he calls you cockdumb and I’m WEAK), vaginal sex, rough sex, jealous and possessive Whiskey (god YES)

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A/N: Okay, I’m about to shock y’all: this is one of VERY FEW Daddy Whiskey fics where we don’t have the daddy kink. We are taking a trip back to the beginning of Whiskey and Babycakes’ relationship, about three or four months in. Don’t worry, it still gets spicy (;

Co-written by @sweetangel0069 because dear lord Anna did you give me some BEAUTIFUL ideas. If you guys find yourselves liking a certain line or description in this fic, it’s damn near a coin toss as to whether I wrote it, or Anna did lmao. Anna, please NEVER stop sending me your incredible thots <3

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You know you’re still in that honeymoon phase, still in your own perfect little world the two of you had made together. There was never anything wrong, never any fights, only peace, love, and happiness. You knew it would come to an end eventually, you knew that if you were going to stay together that there would eventually be hardships, but you were ready to face those when they came. Because as far as you’re concerned, Jack Daniels is in your life to stay.

While your age gap was more than obvious, the two of you had plenty of things in common. One of them being your love for loud music and trashy dive-bars. Something about the atmosphere is just so fun; the two of you downing your favorite drinks while dancing to old country songs. To Jack, it was his slice of heaven.

Speaking of Jack…

“Hey!”

“Hey, darlin’.” He returns, his tone displaying his grin. “I’m here, parked right outside.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in just a minute.” You tell him, smiling like a damn fool.

“See you then, sweet pea.”

Once you hang up the phone, you move to get your purse. You were so excited for the date you got ready nearly an hour early, making sure to wear that short dress you know Jack likes. It’s made of denim, the light blue fabric soft and smooth. The dress cinches in at your waist and ends a dangerous few inches past your hip. The sleeves are short, reaching your mid-bicep, and there are three buttons that allow you to choose your neckline, which you leave entirely open, knowing that’s how Jack likes it best. You finished your outfit off with a pair of simple, light brown, open-toed heels, the shade matching your bag.

When you walk outside, you’re delighted to see Jack waiting for you in his vintage Bronco. He has his elbow on the side of the car, his jaw in hand as he waits. His other hand rests on the steering wheel, lightly tapping along to a song. He’s wearing his aviator shades, his black hat matching the tone of his leather jacket. Beneath it, he wears a plan white t-shirt.

“Hey, sugar.” He greets, climbing out of the car to wrap you in a hug.

“Hi, baby.” You happily return, welcoming his kiss when he pulls back just enough to deliver it.

The rest of Jack’s attire consist of dark blue jeans, his flask belt buckle, and brown cowboy boots. You grin, humming happily at how he looks.

“Yeah?” he coos, watching your eyes dip down his figure. “You like what I’m wearin’, sweet cheeks?”

“Mhm,” your eyes return to his, lips curling to mirror his.

“I find myself feelin’ the same,” he flirts. “You look gorgeous, sugar.”

Even though Jack had certain outfits he liked best on you, he thought you looked beautiful in anything. After all, it’s really you who made the outfit look good.

Jack keeps his hand on your bare knee throughout the short drive, his thumb rubbing across the skin your dress had exposed, riding up slightly when you sat down. The top to the Bronco is down, the nighttime breeze flowing through your hair. You feel so at peace, so incredibly happy by his side. Nothing made a night more memorable than spending it with him.

The specific bar he takes you to is one the two of you have visited before. The bar tenders were nice, the drinks knocked you on your ass, and they even had a Jukebox, too. There was also a pool table in the back, the very table Jack taught you how to play on.

“Hey, Jack,”

“Hey there, Charlie.” Jack returns, pulling out a stool for you before taking a seat on one himself.

The bar tender greets you, too, having known you by name for some weeks now. He assumes both your drink orders, and assumes right.

“What do you wanna do tonight, sugar?” Jack asks, turning to you while Charlie makes your drinks.

“Do you wanna play pool again? I’m getting pretty good.” You smirk, knowing he’ll accept your playful challenge.

“You sure you wanna try that?” he teases. “You’re quite new to the game, babycakes. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you on your first independent round.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, grabbing your drink in hand when Charlie sets it down. “C’mon cowboy, I’ll show you what I got.”

And to Jack’s surprise, you’re giving him quite a run for his money. He wonders if you’d been practicing on your own or if you were just a natural talent. Up until now, he’d been helping you out on every turn whenever you’d play. But today, you’re all on your own, and he’s really having to give it his all.

Damn, he grins to himself. My baby’s got a spark.

When Jack’s about to take his final shot, aiming for the eight ball, he hears a few men murmur up ahead of him. His eyes glance up beneath his brow, looking at you from across the velvety green. Further behind you he sees a group of guys standing around, a couple of them turning to scan your form.

“Thanks for giving me the game, baby.” You tease, watching as he misses his shot.

Jack gives you a faux smile, fooling you but glaring at the younger men as soon as you turn around.

“Look at you,” he grins. “Guess I really did teach you well, huh?”

You giggle, reveling in his words as well as your first win. When you walk over to him, he wraps an arm around you, holding his cue stick in the other. His heart leaps from his chest when you give him a celebratory kiss, the hand on your back pressing your body against his. He can feel eyes on you as you do it, the attention only making him smirk against your lips.

She’s mine.

You convince Jack to play another round with you, thinking he’s hell bent on beating you now. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Honestly, he’s not even paying attention to the game anymore. That group of guys is still there, about five of them lurking behind you. Seeing them check you out for so long makes him want to take you home and wrap you in his arms, keep you in bed and never let anyone else look at you ever again. It also makes him want to knock their teeth out.

“Oh, come on! It’s like you’re not even trying!” you tease, winning once again.

With graceful feet and swinging hips, you saunter over to him, lightly patting his chest.

“You’re somethin’, baby.” He says, grinning down at you before his eyes flicker back up to the younger boys behind you. “C’mon, why don’t we go get another drink?”

With his hand on your lower back, he leads you over to the bar, ordering another round for you both. As usual, Charlie whips them up quick, a new drink back in your hand in mere seconds.

As you begin to take a sip, someone to your left clears their throat, drawing your attention. You turn, setting down your drink as you look at the man standing beside you.

“Hi,” he says, smiling kindly.

“Hi,” you return, unfamiliar with the man.

“I saw you playin’ pool over there and I just gotta say, you’re quite a good shooter.”

You smirk, “Oh, thanks. It’s only because I have the best teacher.” You’re referencing Jack, of course, and it makes him smile, heart pounding proudly in his chest. But the guy next to you doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“I guess so.” he grins. “How ‘bout I buy you a drink and let you play a round with me?”

Your eyes widen at his offer, quickly furrowing your eyebrows with one raising high. And while your reaction seems appropriate, Jack’s is anything but. He’s doing everything he can to stay calm. He can’t fucking believe this guy just asked to take you out right in front of him. He knows for a fact he saw your kiss; what an arrogant little prick.

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. I’m actually here with my boyfriend.” You smile proudly, turning slightly toward Jack.

Jack eyes the younger man and has been since he first stepped toward you, hell, he’s been eyeing him since he first looked at you. Jack’s gaze is mean yet smug, knowing he has what the other men want, what this man wants. He gives him a slight nod, raising two fingers to his forehead in a cocky little salute.

Your rejection, although in the kindest form, infuriates him. He scowls at Jack, and then turns to you, laughing arrogantly.

“Boyfriend? That’s gotta be a joke.”

Jack’s even-expression turns sour at this, his thread of patience officially cut. Your jaw drops, both brows raising in shock. Who the fuck does he think he is?

“He’s old enough to be your dad! There’s no fucking way you’re with him.”

At this point, he’s officially pissed you off. You knew the age gap between you and Jack raised some eyebrows, but neither of you cared about that. The people close to you supported you no matter what, and honestly, your age gap just made the two of you even hotter for each other.

“I’m well aware of his age,” you retort, giving him an unamused frown after you scoff. “And I actually really like it. I’m more than done with this conversation, so you can go fuck off.”

Jack is absolutely fuming, and even though your back is turned toward him for the moment, you can practically feel the anger radiating off him. You feel so bad, he must be so upset. What if he’s embarrassed? Immediately, you turn to him, blabbering out every word you can as you try to piece together some sort of an apology. And while your efforts don’t go unnoticed, they’re certainly unnecessary. Jack isn’t even listening. He just stares at you, stares into you, and before you know it, he’s grabbing you by your arm and hauling you out of your seat.

You’re stumbling along behind him as he struts toward the door. Is he taking you home? Is he upset with you? You’ve never had an argument before, not a real one, at least. You’ve had disagreements, sure, but you’ve never seen him so angry before. You were having such a good night, is he really going to let some stupid guy ruin it all for you?

Just as you’re about to walk up to the door, he turns, leading you down a short hall. At the end of it sits a door leading to the establishment’s only bathroom. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart racing and nearly lurching from your chest. With one push, he opens the door, a second shove forcing you in. You stumble forward, turning to see him locking the door.

“B – baby,” you stammer out. “I’m so sorry! That guy was an asshole! Please, don’t be mad.”

Your words stumble out haphazardly, doing whatever you can to deescalate the situation. But toward the end of your brief ramble, Jack turns, moving forward with sure steps. The bathroom door opened up into another short hall, a corridor to the right of it leading into the small space with a single toilet and sink. As Jack approaches you, your steps move backward, his body quickly pinning you against the wall at the back of the short hall. His body crowds yours against the firm surface, his hot breath in your face.

“Oh, baby, I know that guy is a prick. He pissed me off, but you… you sweet, young thing. The way you told him off got me hard, sugar.” His body moves against you, grinding his hips into yours as his mouth lowers to your ear. “You like that I’m older? Huh? Does my age turn you on, darlin’?”

You realize now that Jack isn’t mad at you, and that any anger he felt has been clouded by an incredibly exciting arousal. The fact that this all turned him on makes you feel needy, submissive, eager to please. An uncontrollable passion overcomes you, consuming both your body and mind alike.

All at once, your lips crash into his, forcing a groan from his throat. Both of your hands reach for his neck, pushing his mouth further against your own. He parts your lips with his mouth, eagerly licking inside. He moans into you when your teeth nip at his lower lip, your lips capturing his tongue and sucking it out of his mouth. He shoves his head away from you, ripping himself from the hold your lips have on his tongue before he returns, diving back inside all over again.

As you continue to kiss, continue to lick into the other’s mouth, Jack moves his hands to your hips. His strong arms force you to the side, pulling you over to the counter before spinning you around. Jack smiles, looking over your shoulder as you gaze at your reflection together. You’re already a mess, your chest heaving with anticipation, your lips already swollen beneath lust-blown eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Jack always did love to see you wrecked, and in all honesty, this is nothing compared to when you were at home. His eyes dip lower, exploring your exposed cleavage. "My pretty little girl."

"Baby..."

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, strong hands pawing at your ass. “You sexy little thing.”

He groans out, leaning back to hike your dress up over your ass. His hands return, now landing on bare skin. His jaw drops at the sight, eagerly landing a single, harsh slap.

“Watch me, baby.” Jack says, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his handsome face on full display. “Want you to watch this old man fuck your pretty little pussy.”

“Baby,” you gasp out, lips parting in awe at his words. Your fingers grip the porcelain sink, skin shivering with excitement.

Thick fingers wrap around the fabric of your thong, pulling it down your thighs just enough for him to slide inside. He can already feel how wet you are, how turned on you are from him. Jack’s head then drops back down, unbuckling his belt and then undoing his zipper.

“You’re so handsome, baby.” You sigh out, unable to pull your eyes away from the reflection of him.

Jack grins at your words, his lips parting as he pulls himself out. He keeps his head down, lifting his right hand and spitting into his palm. Your inner walls clench at the sight and sound, watching as he grips himself, running his fist over his thick length and using his own spit to lube himself up. Jack’s left hand then grabs hold of your lower cheek, spreading you slightly as he steadies his breath. But you barely have a chance to catch your own before he’s slamming his cock into you. You’re used to Jack’s eager passion, his pace always rough and hard, shoving himself deep, but for some reason, you didn’t expect him to do so here. You’re shocked at the stretch, his length feeling even bigger from behind.

The force of his thrusts nearly make your muscles go limp, your head dropping down between your shoulders as he fucks into you. And he sees this when he lifts his head, both hands now on your hips. He frowns, narrowing his brows. He told you to watch, so that’s exactly what he’s going to make you do. Almost instantly, his right hand reaches around, gripping your chin in hand to pull your face back up. Your eyes return to the lewd image, the reflection of you and him.

“Keep that pretty head up, babycakes. Told you to watch me; watch me fuck you.” he grunts out, his hips snapping harshly against your backside as he repeatedly plunges inside. “Such a pretty young thing, ain’t you, baby? Taking this old man’s cock so well. You’re such a fuckin’ slut, sugar. My slut.”

Jack’s filthy words never fail to turn you on, his voice alone enough to make your center weep. It’s unbelievable, the amount of euphoria Jack’s able to pull from your veins.

You want to speak to him, return the filth that falls so easily from his lips, but all you can manage out are small, breathy moans. He’s so close to you, his chest pressed flush against your back. He hits deep, punching himself against that sweet spot that makes you fucking drool. And all you can do is keep yourself in place for him, taking every single thrust he gives you.

“Oh, look at that. Is my baby goin’ cockdumb already?” he teases, nuzzling his nose against your neck, just below your ear.

You can feel his smirk pressing up against your skin, his heated breaths washing over you in waves. The barely-there stubble along his jawline rubs harshly against your skin, the hairs of his mustache tickling your neck.

His hands wander your body, one of them rising to the cleavage you so proudly show off. Due to your lack of secured buttons, he’s able to slip a hand inside, grabbing a fistful of your tit.

“No bra, huh?” he murmurs, the thickness of him throbbing inside you. He palms at you, sliding his thumb over your nipple. “I knew I could see those perky tits; knew I could see those pretty little nipples showing through.”

Jack’s mouth moves to your ear, nipping at your lobe before licking a stripe up the cuff. He groans, the vibrations from his chest and throat rumbling across your shoulder.

“B – baby, fuck – oh my god,”

“What is it, honey? You not like what I’m doin’?”

Jack’s other hand is wrapped around your midsection, holding you against him.

“No, no baby, I love it. I fucking love it!” you cry out, neither of you caring in the slightest how loud you are.

“Hm,” he hums, mouthing at your neck. “That’s what I thought.”

There’s never been a more beautiful sound than that of Jack’s pleasurable grunts and groans, the punched-out noises making your eyes roll back. You love to hear him, love to hear how fucking aroused he is. And he knows it.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day, sugar. All. Fucking. Day.” he confesses, the hand around your waist retracting and lowering to grab your ass. “You’re my fucking girl, you know that?”

You whimper, nodding your head with closed eyes.

“Let me hear it, sweetheart.” The sudden sting of his hand on your ass causes your eyes to shoot open. “I thought I told you to watch.”

You’re so overwhelmed you completely forgot what he said, swallowing thickly as you try to gain some semblance of your bearings.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demands, voice incredibly low.

“I’m yours, Jack. I’m yours, I’m always yours.”

“So good, so good, baby girl. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, sugar. Always drawin’ all those eyes, huh? You like that? You like the attention, honey?”

“No,” you whimper. “No, baby. I only want yours.” And it’s true, and he knows it.

It was during your very first sexual encounter that Jack’s possessive side came out, unable to help himself from claiming your beautiful form.

“Mm – fuck.” he groans, choked out gasps punching out from his throat. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum, okay? And then I’ll take you home, take you home and lick your pussy, make your pretty pussy cum all over my tongue and fingers. Would you like that, babycakes?”

“God, yes. Please, yes.” you immediately beg, turning your head to the side. “Please let me feel it, baby. Let me feel you cum inside.”

Jack groans, a sound that turns into a growl against your neck. He can feel himself shaking, his muscles working to hold both of you up as he begins to cum. You coax him to his peak, grinding your hips back against him until it forces him off the edge. Shortly after your words, you feel it inside, welcoming the warmth as he paints your inner channel white.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and stomach as they press up behind you, grinding his hips against your ass and forcing himself even deeper inside. His ragged breaths make you sigh, your head tilting slightly as he begins peppering your neck with passionate kisses. He slips his hand out of your dress, both arms wrapping tightly around you, his cock softening and sliding out. His mouth trails up to your cheek, smirking against you.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, nose nuzzling into your neck as he feels you relax into his loving hold. “Let’s take you home.”

Thank you for reading <3

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Hope/ Denial

Summary: You never had the chance to tell Matt how you felt about him before he disappeared one day. Even after more than a year of nights spend together you never told him that you loved him. Months after his disappearance, after going to his apartment every week you finally decide it’s time to stop waiting for his return. Of course that night he shows up. With an explanation and a confession that makes you forget the anger and hurt you felt for him in the last months.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 2.4k

Rating: E for Explicit; Minors dni

Warnings: angst, some fluff, smut (unprotected sex), yearning

A/N: First time posting for Daredevil. I hope you like it because i have been freaking out about it for two weeks (Do not ask me why the title, it was the working title and i just kept it lmao)

Fridays used to be your favourite day of the week.

The start of the weekend, no obligation to wear a bra for two full days if you didn’t have anything planned. Spending time with your…

boyfriend?

The man you’d been spending all your time with?

The man you were sleeping with?

Matt and you didn’t have a label. You never had that talk. It just… it just happened as silly as it sounded.

He and his charming smile just showed up at your little bakery one day, asking if it was you who was responsible that every time he opened the window of his office it smelled like cinnamon cookies.

He became your best customer from then on, the little bakery you opened being just across the street from the office of Nelson and Murdock.

He insisted on walking you home when you stayed late. It must have been at least half a year after meeting the man for the first time that he asked you if he could kiss you.

And a kiss turned into two.

Hours together in each other's arms while he made you cry out in pleasure turned into lazy weekends where he became your trial bunny for every new recipe you had in mind for the bakery.

The amount of time he had taken you against the kitchen counter while you waited for whatever you had in the oven to finish baking…

That he only barely stayed the night or that his body sometimes was bruised all over was something you questioned in the beginning. But he always assured you that everything was just fine and he was just clumsy with being blind and all, and so you stopped asking and cherished the time you spent together.

Even though you never believed a word of what he said regarding that aspect.

But then, after almost a year of… whatever the two of you had he just disappeared from one day to the other. No message, no call, no inappropriate visit to your bakery for lunch while he made out with you in the back office.

Nothing.

Neither Foggy nor Karen seemed to know anything about whatever happened to him too. So five days after no word from him you used the key he had given you a while ago for the first time.

The key to his apartment.

You went to his place every Friday starting with that one almost four months ago. Karen and you paid for the place, keeping the hope up that maybe Matt would show up one day.

You were miserable.

You missed Matt Murdock.

You missed the way he held you, the way he mumbled your name, how he kissed your forehead and your nose every night before he left you to go home.

You loved him. You loved him so much and you were mad at yourself for not telling him. Mad at him for disappearing. Mad at the world for taking the one good thing that had happened to you away.

The more time went by, the less hope you had that he would be back.

His shirts stopped smelling like him as did the soft sheets on his bed.

Fridays used to be your favourite day of the week until the man you loved disappeared.

Today was the first Friday you didn’t go to his apartment before going home. You only stopped at your favourite take out place on your way home, taking the way that was furthest from his apartment before you went to your place, eating your dinner and staring at the wall.

You had met up with Karen for lunch but something had been… off. She had been different for a couple of weeks by now and you had asked her why, but she only said it’s personal and didn’t want to talk about it.

There was something in her eyes when you told him that you were ready to move on from Matt, having lost hope that he would be coming back. You couldn’t spend your life pining over a ghost.

You didn’t know how long you were staring at the wall, almost missing the knock on your door. You glanced at the clock. It was after 9pm. Contemplating ignoring whoever was at your door you sighed when it knocked again.

Walking to the door you got on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, gasping when you saw who it was.

“Matt?” you whispered.

“It’s me,” you heard his voice and you breathed in deeply, letting your head fall against the door. A million things went through your head. Relief, because he was alive. Confusion, because you wanted to know where he had been. But what took over was anger that he just showed up after months like… like… like it was a normal friday night.

“What do you want?” you asked, your voice strained, tears already in the corner of your eyes.

“I… I wanted to see you. Try to explain… Fuck…” you heard him sigh, imagined how he ran his hand through his hair as he always did when he was frustrated. Swallowing down your feelings you took another deep breath before you unlocked the door.

And there he was. Standing in front of you in his suit, the tie missing. There was a cut over his left eye, his glasses hiding his beautiful brown eyes from your view.

He took a step towards you, his hand coming up as if to touch your cheek like he always did when he kissed you before he stopped his movement and took a step to the right as you closed the door.

Walking past him towards your kitchen you heard him follow you after he locked your door. Like he always did when he came to your place.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your kitchen counter.

“What… Where the hell have you been?” you asked, shaking your head. Matt flinched at the tone of your voice before he sat down at one of your chairs.

“It’s a long story,” he said and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for four fucking months, I think I deserve some explanation.”

“You do. I’m…” he stopped, pulling his glasses off, his eyes unfocused as his face turned towards you.

“I’m sorry for leaving like this. It… I didn’t plan it. Some things happened and I.. I lost my way. I lost my faith… I… I want to tell you everything.”

“Then start from the beginning…”

He talked. For hours.

Explaining everything that had happened.

He told you that he was Daredevil. The real one, not the one that had killed countless people in the last weeks.

At one point you had both sat down on your couch, both on opposite sites. Your eyes kept dropping close, the longer you listened to him, your anger disappearing. He did it to keep you safe, but that didn’t stop you from being hurt.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, barely waking up as Matt carried you to your bed. You breathed his scent in deeply, your head in the crook of his neck as your arms came around him.

He kissed your temple as he carefully set you down in your bed.

He tucked you in and you blinked your eyes open as he looked at you, sitting next to you on your bed, with his hand on your cheek.

“Please stay,” you whispered, kissing his thumb as he caressed your face.

“Sweetheart…”

“Stay. Here. With me. I… I don’t want to be alone anymore…” you closed your eyes. You didn’t want him to leave. You never wanted him to leave.

“Please Matt. I’m… I… Don’t leave me again,” you shook your head. And just when you opened your eyes again when you felt the bed shift you felt his lips on yours. Sighing against them you reached for him, pulling your arms around him as he carefully shifted his body until he was on top of you. His lips pressing against yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You closed your eyes, your hands running down his back to push him closer towards you.

“I won’t leave you,” he mumbled against your lips, one of his hands on your throat.

“I love you,” he said and you gasped, opening your eyes to look into his and for just one moment his eyes seemed to be looking into yours.

“I love you too,” you whispered before you kissed him again. His hand ran down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt. You crossed your legs behind his back, wanting him closer. So much closer.

“Matt..” you whined when he began to kiss down your neck. Your hands began to work open his shirt, wanting to feel his skin on yours. You pushed him up so he was straddling your lap so you could push his shirt off his shoulders. His chest was littered in new marks and scars and you kissed every single one of them. You heard him sigh, one of his hands on top of your head. You gave the cross on his chain around his neck a kiss too. You felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pushing it up until he pulled it over your head, throwing it off of you. His hands, his big hands ran up your sides as he kissed your nose.

“Always so soft,” he hummed, and you shivered when his fingers brushed over the sensitive skin on your breast. He pushed you on your back, his lips kissing a line from your lips down your throat in between your breasts and you didn’t know if it was his lips or the cold metall of his cross on your skin that made you shiver. He sucked a mark on the side of your left breast before he sucked your hard nipple in between his lips, his tongue flickering it.

Gasping his name, your hands were in his hair, pulling it a little, just how you knew he liked it.

“Please Matt… I want to feel you. It’s been… ah.. It’s been too long,” you moaned as he released your nipple, kissing you between your breasts before he continued to kiss down your body.

“I’ll never leave you again…” he vowed, his tongue dipping into your navel while his finger hooked into the soft shorts you were wearing.

He pulled your shorts down, leaving you naked beneath him. He took a deep breath and you knew he could smell just how affected you were.

He closed his eyes as he felt your hands on his stomach, sliding down to open his pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered and you smiled while you helped him out of his pants.

“You’re blind, Matthew,” you teased and a small grin sneaked to his face.

“I don’t need eyes to know you’re beautiful,” he said and kissed you.

You were both naked and you could feel him between your thighs as he kissed you, his lips only parting from yours to mumble words of affection.

One of his hands found your core, his fingers parting your folds and you whimpered against his lips. You bit your lip as two of his fingers pushed inside of you, his lips kissing your chin as you threw your head back. He moved his fingers with ease, you'd been wet since the moment he had kissed you if not before. One of your hands found his cock, your fingers wrapping around his lengths and he groaned against your skin.

“I want you to fuck me, Matthew,” you whimpered, your hand pumping his hard cock.

“I want to fall asleep with you buried inside of me so I know that I didn’t dream that you are alive,” you whimpered when he angled his fingers, finding that spot inside of you that made you shake with ease.

You kissed him before he brought his fingers covered in you up, sucking them clean.

“Always taste so good…” he mumbled before he kissed you again and you tasted yourself. You now felt him between your legs, your hand letting go of his cock.

Slowly he pushed inside of you, his lips never leaving yours. You gasped, your hand on his back, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Missed you…” he groaned, giving you time to adjust when he was fully inside of you. You brought one hand up to his cheek, smiling softly up at him. His eyes softened and even though they weren’t focused on you, you knew he was seeing you.

“Move, please,” you whispered, one of your legs crossing behind him and he released a long breath before he moved. Steady thrusting inside of you while his lips kissed whatever part of you he could reach.

“Matt…” you moaned, your hand in his hair. You felt the cold metal of the cross of his chain on your throat as he hovered over you, holding himself up with a hand next to your head. He was biting his lip as he thrusted into you steadily, your whole body melting against him. You began to meet his thrusts, wanting him to move faster. He groaned when you clenched your inner walls, squeezing him.

“Fuck…” he moaned, his head falling against your shoulder, his whole body coming down on top of you as he pumped harder into you, his face in your neck, his lips sucking bruises on your skin you would have to cover up all week but you didn’t care.

“Please.. Please… God…” you moaned.

“Cum for me…” he breathed against your ear. You felt tears in the corner of your eyes as your body began to shake, your orgasm leaving you breathless as you held on to him, moaning his name as if it was a prayer.

“I love you so much,” he whispered and you moaned, turning your head and pulling his face towards you so you could kiss him. He thrusted a couple more times before you felt him cum deep inside of you, painting your walls with his cum while he groaned your name.

Both out of breath you spend some time in silence, your fingers stroking through his hair.

After a while he wanted to get up but you just held him closer.

“Stay,” you mumbled sleepily, feeling him smile against your skin.

“Forever,” he promised and while you were still hurt by his disappearance, for not giving you any sign that he was alive, you believed him.

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