#i hope i don't sound snippy

[almadelsur]

💋 The Turmoil One Suffers

summary: In the second installment of The Secrets One Keeps, a relaxing day on the pogue proves to be anything but, with your inner struggles getting the better of you and JJ hot on your tail.

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, talks of suffocation ig? plz let me know if I've missed anything.

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering I first wrote this like 3 years ago. Also, for those asking, I won't be doing a taglist for this fic bc I'm lazy and technologically deficient.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

You shouldn’t have been smoking, it made you feel uneasy, paranoid even.

You had found yourself on the pogue in the wake of Pope’s incessant bitching about how you had to make up for ditching them last night. The guilt had made you cave in. As he spoke, all that had flashed through your head was images of Rafe. You on top of Rafe, Rafe with his hands around your neck, the way Rafe’s hair felt between your fingers as you gripped on it when he got messy between your-

“Dude” Sarah’s voice snapped you out of your recurring thoughts.

You turned your head to her as you took a drag of the blunt JJ had rolled, "hmm?"

“I asked if you wanted a beer?”

You checked the time on your phone, 12pm. After enduring 3 hours on this floating nightmare, you decide you're probably deserving of one.

“uh yeah sure.” You took another hit, extending your arm to grab the cold bottle.

You bought the edge of the glass bottle up to your lips and took a swig, letting the liquid wash over your cotton mouth. A swig swiftly turning into a gulp as thirst suddenly became itself known to you. One gulp then turned to two and before you knew it the bottle dried out.

JJ eyed your every move, the feeling that had been bugging him since you got into the Twinkie that morning had now grown into full-blown concern. Your unusual behaviour was deafening with the sounds of alarm bells.

“Thirsty?” He spoke with furrowed brows, prompting Pope to chuckle though no joke had been intended.

Your eyes flickered towards JJ momentarily and instantly you knew what he was  thinking. Anger disguised as adrenaline coursed through you.

“Sarah will you pass me another? Mines empty.” Defiance clear in your tone, causing a thick tension to settle over the boat.

“'s a bit it early to start chugging drinks isn’t it?” JJ speaks up again before Sarah has time to respond.

You scoffed as you turned to him once more, maintaining eye contact as you took a long drag from blunt. As you exhaled the smoke, the thick white cloud blurred his features.

“Sarah” you tried again.

You hear a small sigh as she hands you another bottle.

“Thank you” You took another swig at the bottle, hoping the liquid would force down the concoction of guilt and anger that swirled in your mouth.

“So like am I saying words out loud or is it just in my head?” JJ tried, at this point he just wanted a reaction out of you.

“You asked me to come here.” Your tone was snippy, as another burst of smoke entered your system.

“well my mistake clearly.” He was getting pissed off now, and you couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction it gave you. You knew it was unfair, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you just couldn’t help it.

Pope cleared his throat. “This is a whole lotta tension for such a little boat.” He tried to lighten the mood but his joke fell flat.

As you downed your second beer, you took another drag. “It is isn’t it?” You turned to him.

“Maybe you should have some of this JJ, it’ll help you relax.” You threw the blunt in his direction, letting it fall at his feet.

“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” JJ spat at you, picking up the blunt.

The mixture of alcohol and weed infected your system, your breathing became staggered as you suddenly became hyper aware of the layers clinging onto your body.

You don't answer. Instead choosing to stand up and remove your T-shirt. Rafe returned to your mind as you focused on the image of him mimicking your same actions. Your trousers were next to go. You pushed them down whilst picturing Rafe’s hands running down your legs.

Pope eyed Sarah and JJ who’s gaze were trained on you and your movements.

“Whatcha doing there bud?” Sarah asked watching you strip down to your underwear.

“I’m too hot” was all you said, stepping off the edge of the boat and letting yourself plunge into the cool water below you.

As you became completely submerged, you breathed out all of the air in your irritated lungs. Leaving you empty and heavy as you continued to sink. The muffled noises of the water hit against your head yet all you could hear was your thoughts racing. 

As the need for air increased, the rush of thought slowed. You liked it. The weightlessness of your body, mixed with the numbing of all of your senses was peacefull. A welcome change from the overdrive your body had been running on for the past year. 

You forced yourself to stay down there, pushing your physical boundaries. A split second before completely losing consiousness you emerged again, letting the air penetrate through your system and invade your insides as it worked to reboot your muscles before giving life again to the internal mayhem in your mind again. 

You floated with your head above the surface and your back facing the pogues. You couldn’t find yourself to act remotely interested in what they thought about your little show. 

JJ in turn felt as though he was slowly loosing his head. He felt dumbfounded because it wasn’t just your behaviour that was different, your entire demeanour and vibe was off and he failed to comprehend what could have happened in the span of 12 hours for you to return to him a complete different person. 

Sarah could see the way he looked at you, he was hot on your tail and she panicked trying to divert his calculating eyes from you. “So” she spoke up loud enough so that you could hear and be part of the conversation should you wish to. “Theres a party at my house tonight.”

“Oh really?” JJ answered, evidently uninterested as he continued his stare down with the back of your head. 

“Yeah Ward’s out of town with Rose and y'know Rafe, any opportunity he has to get shitfaced he’ll take it.” Relief washed over her as JJ’s eyes finally unglued from you. 

At the mention of Rafe your ears perked up. 

“Do you guys wanna come?” A devilish grin on her face evident as she spoke. 

“A kook party? We wouldn't be welcome.” Pope answered for the three of you, prompting a scoff from Sarah. 

“It’s my house too, plus I already threatened Rafe to let me invite you guys. I told him I’d snitch on him otherwise.” She shrugged.

“I’m sure he loved that” JJ added, amused at the thought of antagonising the Cameron boy. 

“Well what did he say?” Three pairs of eyes turned to you as you finally spoke up from the water, now facing the boat again. 

JJ couldnt help the face that your question caused him to pull. Why did you suddenly care about what Rafe Cameron had to say? Sarah already said they could go so why did it even matter? 

“He said whatever as long we stay away from him.” Her answer caused Pope and JJ to roll their eyes. It had been somewhat of a lie though. 

Because what Rafe had really said when Sarah had threatened him was, “whatever just stay away from us, and why don't you go ahead and bring that sexy little friend of yours.” 

To which Sarah had replied with, “We wouldn’t want to hang out with you and your classist friends anyway. Also, Kiara’s with JJ, and Y/N wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole so.” Unkowing of the situation between you and Rafe.

Looking back at it now, Rafe’s coy response of “we’ll see” suddenly made much more sense to her as she shuddered slightly in disgust. 

“Can’t we take a night off? I mean don’t you guys think we’ve been going a little extra hard recently?” Pope tried to reason as you swam back up towards the boat, forcing yourself on board again. 

“I’ll be there.” You interjected as the water ran down your body, soaking the deck of the hms. 

“we all will be.” JJ fired back, a confusing swirl of concern and anger towards your attitude fought for dominance within his head. 

You ignored him once more and lay back on the sodden deck, letting your persistant introspection rest as the blanket that was intoxication comforted you. You looked up at the clouds and the weighlessness returned. Before you knew it, he sounds of Pope and Sarah chatting drifted away with the soft waves that carried the boat. You lost grip on consciousness as the sun lulled you to sleep.

Around half an hour went by before JJ spoke up. “hey" he double checked you were definitely asleep.

He took your silence as confirmation before turning to the other two. “Y'all saw that right?”

“Saw what?” Sarah played dumb even though he she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“the way she was acting” He whisper shouted, confused as to why no one else seemed remotely worried. “It was like she hated us.” He spoke with the tone of a wounded man.

“Yeah… us.” Pope muttered under his breath.

“I think she’s just tired J, she uh- she had a long night.” Sarah stiffled what had been something between a laugh and a groan.

“Nah guys look- I know her, that wasn’t normal.” JJ didn’t ease up.

“We all know her.” Pope jumped on the defensive.

“c’mon dude it’s not just me, somethings obviously wrong”

At this point Sarah wished for anything to distract him, because as much as JJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to academic performance, he most certainly wasn’t dumb. And he definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to you.

“Maybe It’s.. you know..” Pope waggled his eyebrows. “Her time…” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “of- of the month?”

“Nice Pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“’s not that. Guys look listen to me somethings definitely wr-“ the ringing of his phone interrupted JJ mid sentence. Saved by the bell. Literally.

JJ grabbed his phone and his frown eased up slightly as he looked at the caller ID.

“Hey baby” his tone made it seem like whatever he had been worrying about softened it’s grip on him at the sound of her voice. “Uh huh, okay give us ten and we’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Kie?” Sarah asked, praying he wouldn’t resume his ramble.

“Yeah she’s finished up at the wreck, wants us to go get her.” And with that the subject was dropped.

—————————————————————————

The late afternoon breeze stroked you awake as you suddenly became aware of the voices around you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stirred where you lay, your body stiff from the 4 hour positioning against the hard wood of the hms. You slowly sat yourself up and threw your T-shirt back on your body before turning back to glance at the now complete group of pogues. Fuck how long had you been out for.

You let your eyes linger on Kiara and JJ a couple of seconds longer than everybody else. He laughed carelessly pulling her tighter against his side. You groaned out quietly and reached for your phone, typing out that damned name.

To Rafe: Having a party and you didn’t invite me? I’m almost offended.

Almost instantly a reply came through.

Miss me already?

You rolled your eyes as he sent you another.

Figured Sarah would open her big mouth, better see you tonight ;)

“Morning Camper.” John B spoke up. You turned around to face him, every single one of them with their attention on you.

“Hey can you take me home?” You directed at no one in particular.

“You don’t wanna stay and hang out?” Kie asked, she wanted to reach you, connect with you.

“I just want to go home” You were irritated and your head hurt, you were certainly in no mood for any of this.

John B was next to try “C’mon man we haven’t all hung out like this in ag-“

“Fuck just take me home” You lashed out. “please” You added in an attempt to soften the blow.

Silence fell over the pogues as John B lifted himself up and steered the boat towards the direction of your house.

As you hopped down you muttered a joyless goodbye to everyone.

“Wait! I’ll walk you in.” JJ peeled himself away from Kiara and followed behind you, slightly speeding as you hadn’t bothered to stop and wait.

He walked beside you, waiting until you were both out of hearing distance from the others.

“why are you angry?” He spoke up.

“I’m not angry.” You tried to walk faster but a calloused hand stopped you.

“Stop. Just stop.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he turned you around to face him. “can you just talk to me? Look whatever I did to piss you off I’m sorry. You just- you were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you hate us-“

“Stop JJ” You just wanted it to stop. The consequence of your actions pounding down on you with every word that left his mouth.

“Stop what?!” He couldn’t help but shake you.

“Talking! Stop talking!” You shoved him forcefully off of you.

“The hell's wrong with you?! dude I’m worried about you. Today’s just been so weird.” His fingers shoved themselves through his hair, a nervous habit of his.

The familiar lump in your throat began to form at the sight of your best friend.

“I’m tired J.” It wasn’t a lie, you really were fucking exhausted. You were tired of lying, tired of watching the boy you loved love someone else, tired of trudging through your life heartbroken.

“You’re lying.” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Why you lyin' to me?”

“JJ. I’m. Tired.” You screwed your eyes shut as your breathing began to quicken “I’m not lying I’m just-“

“Okay alright.”  His embrace cut you off. “I believe you.” He hated seeing you upset. Having known you practically his whole life, he also knew that nothing ever got resolved when you got like this, so he dropped the subject.

You almost broke down then and there, using everything you had in you to move your arms around him, hugging him back.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the meaning behind your words far greater than he could realise.

“Hey it’s okay, we all have off days right?” He let go of you and gave you a small smile.

“Right.” Your remained court and quiet. 

“I’ll see you tonight. Go rest for a bit okay?”

You nodded and began to walk away before his voice stopped you once more.

“Yo” You turned to see that he had shoved his hands in pockets. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?” He hated that he even had to ask.

“Mhm, course” You lied straight through your teeth before turning and walking away from him uninterrupted. You knew that as soon and as your bedroom door closed behind you, you’d sink down into a pit of despair and loathing.

Whilst the resolution had given him a little comfort, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t the end of it.

Perhaps he should have left things alone, maybe then things wouldn’t have escalated to extent that they were about to.

So as he watched you walk away, JJ stood there unknowing of what was to come. Unknowing of the way things were about to change between you forever.

[avelera]

One of your posts mentioned something about viktor not truly acknowledging Jayce's workload when it came to him being a Councillor. Could you please elaborate on that?

Sure. I mean, maybe if I went back through and did an exhaustive rewatch, I'd find something to contradict the point, but as far as I can recall, the closest Viktor ever comes to saying that Jayce might be overworked is when he calls his time going over the shipping manifests for the Hexgates a waste of time because they should be working on innovations to help people in need (ie, Viktor obfuscating once again that he is dying and wants Jayce's urgent help but framing it in such a way that it sounds like a long-term societal problem instead of a short term personal one, so it goes right over Jayce's head).

And look, let me preface this by saying Viktor is actively dying at this point. He's sick, and in pain, and terrified, and he feels abandoned by the most important person in his life. I'm not saying it was wrong of him to not acknowledge Jayce's workload, or bad, or in any way not understandable. Jayce is an adult too and Viktor was definitely suffering more at that point than him.

But on one of many rewatches, I did note that when Jayce says, "Sorry, I have a lot on my plate lately." it is objectively true. And Viktor doesn't even acknowledge it. Being a full time councilor and promoting Hextech and working in the lab and trying to help Viktor and dealing with a civic crisis that could lead to outright civil war, etc etc everything else happening in S1, it's no wonder Jayce is snippy and on edge at the bridge, the guy should be on the edge of collapse quite frankly.

And Viktor doesn't care. He thinks Jayce's time on the Council is a waste of time, so he doesn't acknowledge the burden of it. That includes not acknowledging the fact that the Hexcore would have been destroyed and Viktor's one hope for a cure gone with it if not for Jayce's power and influence now. Jayce only became a Councilor to advance their research and help Viktor, but Viktor doesn't once acknowledge this and seems actively angry and jealous about it.

By the way, this isn't a case of one of them is right and the other is wrong, it's just a case of two very human people being human. It's very well written. But Viktor's lack of empathy for the challenges Jayce is facing means he's also not seeing how much of what Jayce is doing is for his benefit, how many burdens Jayce is taking on for Viktor's sake.

Viktor's emotional arc at the end of S1 includes a lot of feelings of abandonment by Jayce which are objectively not true. If he acknowledged Jayce's workload, he might also come to the realization that he's not abandoned, that Jayce is entirely focused on him just in different arenas. Maybe it would give Viktor the impetus to say "Hey, I don't want your help as a Councilor, I want your help in the lab because I'm scared and alone and dying and I'm about to make some very rash decisions because of all those feelings." Instead of just sucking it up and going it alone, which eventually leads to Sky's death and Viktor's collapse into utter hopelessness and resignation towards his own death.

And by the way, this isn't conjecture that Viktor is bad at seeing how much people around him care for him. Sky is another example of this. Viktor is so focused on extending his own life that, to paraphrase Heimerdinger in 2.07, he's not using the time he has to be with the ones he loves.

Later he will weep and rage at how he completely missed out on knowing Sky as a person, he completely missed out on knowing she cares for him. He'll craft an entire specter of her to keep him company as a result of this guilt in S2, because he can't live with the guilt of the fact he objectively missed out on spending time with the real woman when she was alive. And that is another version of what he's doing to Jayce in S1, by not seeing that Jayce isn't ignoring him, he's desperately trying to help in every way he can and the workload is burying him.

[princessmaybank]

Can you do prompt 7

I'm sorry this took so long! I ran with this one and it turned out longer than it should have!

Riding Lessons

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Riding, maybe some second hand embarrassment..I think that's it?

Summary: Reader wants to learn how to ride, who better to teach her than her bestie?!

Author's Note: I hope you like it, I love this idea, I feel like I could have done better though, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

I wanted to learn how to, ya know, "ride" I guess. I've been a pillow princess every time I've ever had sex but I wanted to be able to impress my sexual partner. I know JJ was just fooling around when he said I could always come to him if I ever needed help with something like that but I'm seriously thinking of his offer, well fake offer I guess. Damn it, I don't know! I've been trying to ask all week but it isn't exactly easy to ask your friend for dick riding lessons. I just wanted him to help me learn to move my body, I didn't have to actually hop on him.

Every time I try to ask, something gets in the way. John B is always around, I make a fool out of myself, I can't spit it out, he's too busy to talk, something. This time we are hanging out in the back yard of the chateau. The guys are chilling while us girls are chatting away.

"So that's when I-" Sarah paused, but I barely noticed as I anxiously looked between the ground and the blond boy who's been recently occupying my mind. "What's wrong Y/N?" She asked, clearly noticing my rapid-fire thumbs playing thumb wars with each other. "Oh nothing.." I pushed off, stopping my fingers, even though it wasn't easy. The girls poked until I would tell them what was bothering me. I didn't tell them everything, just the fact that I needed to talk to JJ alone, and it wasn't an easy conversation. Kie said I should just go grab him and pull him to the side right now but I told her that wasn't as easy as it sounded. John B and Pope latch onto the man and keep him tight.

"HEY JJ COME HERE!" I heard Kiara shout as loud as fucking possible. All the guys started standing up. "ONLY JJ!" Sarah added.

The other two sat down as JJ waltzed over to us. My heart was racing, I wasn't ready for this conversation. "What?" He pretended to get snippy. "I wanna ask you something." I speak up. He motions for me to continue. "privately.." I add on. "Oh okay, we'll be back." He smiles towards the girls before grabbing my hand and leading me into the chateau. I expected him to stop in the living room but he sat me on the bed in the guest room before shutting the door. "What's up?" He smiled as he crossed his arms and leaned against the door. My fingers did that thing again. "Now that I think about it, it's not that important anymore!" I rush my words out and try to get past him and to the door. "Ah ah ah. What is it, Y/N/N?" He looked a little concerned.

I wasn't sure how to bring this up. I've thought about this conversation many times and still haven't figured out the best way to say it. "Uhm- well this is a di-difficult conversation Jayj..I want to have it, but I'm not sure how to start it, and I'm worried it'll ruin our friendship and I was kind of ready for this con-" I started my rambling because I got nervous, but JJ cut me off. He walked up to me and crouched in front of me. His right hand reached out and laid on top of my knee. "Breathe Y/N. I'm sure whatever it is, won't ruin our friendship. Cause we're too close, there's nothing we can't say to each other." He said with a smile.

"O-okay.." I said sheepishly. "So talk to me." He said casually and got up to sit on the bed next to me. "Uhm- so you know how you jokingly said I could come to you with like-" I was hesitant and JJ knew that. "Questions involving sex?" He giggled and finished my question for me. I nodded very fast causing him to giggle again. "That wasn't a joke, I meant it." He smiled with a small chuckle. My eyes widened but I shut that down real fast. "Oh, okay, well I do have a question.." I slowly spoke. He nudged me to continue. "This is really awkward and you don't have to say yes, please don't feel pressured to do this, it's really stupid actually, so-" He shushed me. "Calm down. I'm willing to help with anything you need." He smiled. His words caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I took a deep breath before I closed my eyes and said what I've been meaning to say. "I want to learn how to be on top." That was the easiest way I could say it. "You want me to teach you how to ride dick?" He asked. My eyes were still closed but I felt so embarrassed. My hands covered my face and I heard him chuckle before pulling my hands away. "Look at me." He said. I opened my eyes and looked up at JJ. I tried not to think about the embarrassment coursing through my veins. "Good girl." He said and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I can't believe he just called me that. "Now strip for me." He said and motioned for me to stand. "W-what?" My eyes went wide again. "You want to learn, right? Gotta take your clothes off for me." He said calmly. "I-I thought...I thought you were just going to show me how to move my body.." I twirled my fingers again. "Oh baby...you wanna get some practice first don't you? And who better to try it out on than your best friend?" JJ smirked.

I can't fuck my best friend! This would ruin everything.

"B-but-" I stuttered. "Don't go shy on me now Y/N." He smirked. "Here, I'll go first." He stood proudly in front of me. He removed his hat and boots first. His cut off tank was next before he finally took off his cargo shorts. JJ sat back down next to me on the bed, only in his boxers now. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering his toned body.

"Your turn Y/N/N." He whispered into my ear. I hesitated again, and he must've noticed. "Would you like some help?" He asked. All I was able to do was lightly nod. JJ slowly grabbed my hands and stood me in front of him. His fingers traveled to the bottom of my shirt and pulled upwards, over my head, gently. His hands grasped my waist and pulled me closer to him. JJ's fingers danced in the waistband of my shorts before shimmying them down my legs. His hands ran up and down my legs starting at my hips.

"Come here.." He whispered before sitting against the headboard. I straddled his lap and his hands met my hips again. "Can I kiss you, Y/N?" He asked. So gently and calmly like we weren't in the position we were in. I nodded and parted my lips, pushing them closer to him. As our lips lingered together, his hands rocked my hips against his, back and forth. I could feel him growing beneath me, causing arousal to pool in my panties.

"You sure you wanna learn from me?" He asked after pulling his lips away from mine. "Wouldn't wanna learn from anyone else.." I responded slowly, staring into his eyes. He smiled before pulling our lips back together for a moment. "You already have step one down, which is good." He smirked. "What's step one?" I asked while breathing heavily. "Turn on your partner." His hand found its way to my hair and tugged forcefully. JJ pressed his lips to my neck and made his way down my torso. "Next you're gonna move your panties to the side for me."

For the next few minutes I listened to every word this man said. When I finally eased myself onto his cock, we both let out small gasps. He encouraged me to move when I felt ready but I asked him to help guide me. JJ placed his hands on my hips and moved me back and forth on him slowly. "You can also go up and down, side to side, or in circles, why don't you try something." A small whimper escaped my mouth. I wasn't sure I was ready. "Let the pleasure guide you..nothing you do is wrong. Go ahead." He said while tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

When I finally worked up the courage to move, I decided to just move back and forth. JJ's mouth opened slightly from the pleasure. His hands were still on my hips but he wasn't moving me. I picked up my pace and tried to bounce up and down, which felt so good. I felt like I could release right there with the way his dick was punching my insides. I picked up my speed again, JJ and I were moaning messes in each other's arms. I bounced harder when I realized that's what felt good to me. JJ threw his head back as his hands squeezed my hips tighter. "Just like that.." He whined. My jaw was on the floor. He was gorgeous like this. "Fuck baby... don't stop. I'm almost there.." He let out, heaving. I didn't even slow down. I chased our highs until I couldn't anymore. JJ released with my name on his lips as I did the same with him. I collapsed on top of my best friend, his cock twitching inside of me as we started to come down. My body was shaking from the ultimate pleasure I had just experienced. "Shhhh .." He soothed as he caressed my hair. "such a good girl...I can't wait for our next lesson.." He wanted more? My pussy is in for one wild ride.

[measuredingold]

i’d walk through hell for you

authors note: saw that best friend!noah is all the talk right now and decided to finally free this from the drafts. inspired by a walk through hell by say anything :) there will be a second part that’s already finished and will be posted next week ! i’m not sure about a third lol as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.1k

cross posted on ao3

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, heavy anxiety, best friend!noah, Noah Is A Nightmare But He Can’t Help It, reader is a sweetie and loves their friend and wants to make it better, oh eventual friends to lovers btw, 18+ minors do not interact

You haven't seen him like this in a long time. You can't even remember the last time he allowed you to see him like this, on edge, snippy with fucking everyone, and down right a fucking nightmare. You thought he had gotten that under control, at least from what he’s told you, but the scene before you lets you know that may not be the case.

For the most part. He could be worse, you think.

You've seen him far worse than this plenty of times, yet it still makes your stomach turn in an unpleasant way, and there's a foul taste settling in the back of your throat as you step into his room.

“Hey.” You say quietly, making your presence known.

“Hi.” He doesn’t even bother looking up at you. Your chest tightens.

“Jolly says you’re being a nightmare,” Noah snorts at your words, but you know he doesn’t find it that amusing. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

Your heart breaks as your best friend finally looks up at you, the bags under his eyes and the permanent frown on his lips feeling like a literal stab to the gut. You drop your bag by the door and slowly make your way towards him.

"I can't fucking..." He sucks in a deep breath as he throws his arms towards his computer setup in the corner in his room, eyes narrowing. "This one part in the song I showed you last week. It doesn't sound right. I've messed with it for days, even sent it off to Jolly and even he can't fucking get it to sound good and, " He rubs a hand down his face, "I have to send it by tomorrow night with like four other songs. The others are fine but this fucking one..."

"Sebbe. Breathe."

He does, one long shaky breath, and you're finally looking closely enough to realize his entire body is shaking. Your anxiety kicks in then, alarms sounding off in your head because you know where this can lead. You've seen it before. Your legs take you over to his bed that he's sitting on, joining him. You make sure to keep some space between the two of you, not wanting to overwhelm him more than needed.

"I just don't know what's fucking wrong with me. Like, why can't I figure this out? I did the thing, I took the break. Came back with a clear head or whatever but all I did was fuck up the song even more to where Jolly can't even fix it and-"

"Noah."

He stills at your voice, lazily dragging his eyes towards you. He looks so tired. You know him well enough to know the break was a good fifteen minutes before he sat his ass back in that chair and clearly worked himself to the ground. You know that he's probably only slept a handful of hours in the last few days, and you fucking hate that. He struggles with sleep as is, so you know the stress of this deadline isn't good for him at all.

"Listen to me, okay?" You say slowly. Noah just blinks at you. "Send it off the way it is. You've done your best, but if you keep messing around with it with this nasty attitude, it's not going to get any better. Make sure to make a note on why the song might sound unfinished, mention that you've been struggling."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." His mouth snaps shut. "Tell Jolly you sent it off and that you guys will work on it later. These are just supposed to be demos, right?" It takes a second but Noah eventually nods, somehow looking even more tired than he did seconds ago. "Then there’s no reason for it to be perfect, anyways. Just go on to something else and then go back to it when you don't feel so... negative."

The silence after your words makes your stomach turn, Noah slowly blinking at you. You know your words are registering in his mind, but they’re melting away. He's going to only hear one part of your speech, and it's the part about sending an unfinished song to his label. The unfinished and not perfect song which is unacceptable in Noah standards, and you can already make out the frown that's beginning to form on his lips.

"I have to finish it."

"No, you actually don't."

"Yes, I actually fucking do." He bites out.

You know he doesn't mean it, to be snippy with you, but that's what happens when he's like this. Irrational, says things before thinking about them. You can't stop the way you flinch, though, grimacing at the way it hurts when he throws his anger at you. His frown only deepens, sadness etching itself over his face.

"Sorry." He mumbles, head tilting down. "I just... I need to finish it. I can't just send it off the way that it is. That's not good enough."

"Demos aren't supposed to be good. That's why they're called demos. It’s the rough draft.”

"You don't get it." He groans out, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. "I just... I can't do that. You know I fucking can't. It's gotta be perfect, because if not-"

"You feel like a failure." You finish his words for him and watch the second his shoulders drop.

He doesn't respond, doesn't even take his hands off his face. Instead he just nods slowly.

"Noah..."

He remains silent next to you but you can hear the way his breathing has picked up, a lot shakier than it had been seconds ago. The hands that were sprawled across his face were shaking again and this time you don't bother keeping your space, scooting closer to him.

You're deliberate with your actions, hand reaching out to slide off the beanie on top of his head. You let it fall, hand now smoothing down some of his hair that was messed up by the hat. You're quiet when your fingers gently card through his hair and you do it a few times before your nails scratch at his scalp, slow and gentle.

It takes a second, a lot longer than you actually expected, but his breathing begins to even out. His hands are still shaky, though, and he still has yet to even pick his head up. You have a feeling of what's running through his mind, and you so desperately want to crawl inside there and throw it out yourself. Fill his head with better thoughts and rid him of the mean ones he's sifting through currently.

Your hand drops from the top of his head, instinctively pushing a fallen strand behind his ear before sliding your hand down to the back of his neck. Your fingers apply a good amount of pressure there, gently rubbing out the tension. You hear him sigh out, the noise muffled by his hand.

“Talk to me. What’s going on up there, bub?”

"This is all I have." He finally says after long minutes of silence, voice sounding strained.

You frown.

He continues, "The band. Music. It's all I have. All I'm good at. I can't... it has to be perfect, you know? If it's not..." He sucks in a shaky breath and your fingers dig back into his neck. "If it's not perfect, I don't know how much longer I'll have this. One fuck up and... and this all can be..."

He doesn't finish his words, but you know what he was going to say.

This all can be taken away from me.

Noah confided that fear to you so many times, but each time you're reminded of it it's like a part of you dies. His fear of losing everything at the snap of a finger is something that haunts him and has stayed with him for as long as you could remember. No matter how hard he tried to run from it, to know that things don't always end and can't be taken from him so easily, it always seemed to come crawling back.

"It's not going to be taken away from you." You say in a small voice, scooting even closer to him. Your legs are pressed together now and you don't stop rubbing at his neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Your fingers stop but your hand doesn't move. "Noah, look at me."

A beat passes before he's finally removing his hands from his face, slowly turning his head to stare at you. Somehow the bags under his eyes have darkened in the few minutes you've been in here with him, and it seems like that frown on his lips is permanently sketched there.

"You've gotten this far without it being taken from you." You start slowly, thumb now brushing against the side of his neck. "You're good at what you do. Everyone knows that, and everyone knows that you're not perfect. You don't need to be perfect. We all have bad days. One song that isn't sounding like you wanted isn't going to be the be all end all of your career."

"But what if it is?" He sounds so small, voice shaking with fear of the hypothetical what if and all you want to do in this moment is gather him up in your arms and never fucking let go.

"It isn't." You press. "This has happened before and guess what happened? Nothing. Nothing was taken from you, and life went on as it did."

Noah just blinks at you. You stare back at him, pressing your lips together as you mull over your next words. You're not sure if what you're telling him is getting through that head of his and you're not sure what to do next. You think he needs to take a break, a much longer one, and needs to get out of his room. Probably the house, too. Away from the problem to clear his head.

"Hey," Your thumb keeps brushing against his neck and something warm spreads across your chest when you feel him melt into the touch. "How about you come over? For the day. We go back to mine and just watch some Naruto. I haven't finished it yet."

His blank expression is soon replaced with something similar to pain and his eyes dart from your face to the corner of his room, where his set up remains. You reach up with your other hand without much thought, cupping the side of his face to turn him back towards you.

"Noah."

"I..."

His eyes dart back and forth between your face and his computer, and you can almost physically see the battle happening in his head. The need for perfection. The need for control. His hands start to shake in his lap again and your thumb brushes against the top of his cheek, trying to pull him back to you.

"Just for a few hours. A couple episodes, that's all. Just to get you out of that head of yours, then we can come back here and you can finish up that song."

A compromise, but it's enough to have that pained look on his face to fall for just a moment, body relaxing under your fingertips.

"Okay." Noah breathes out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. " A few hours."

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, that warmth from minutes ago settling across your chest again.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply, just blinks at you again and gives you a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. You're not sure you got through to him, but maybe he was exhausted enough to not care anymore. Whichever one it was you'll take it, as long as it gets him away from that computer and hopefully out of his mind.

He's quiet when gathering his things, lingering by his desk when he saves whatever song it was giving him a hard time before shutting the computer down all together. He doesn't say anything when you leave either, silently following you through the house and to your car. It worries you every time he goes quiet like this, but you know it's the exhaustion from his anxiety finally catching up. And probably the minimal hours of sleep he's gotten in the last few days. Still, you hate it.

The only sign of life from him was when he bopped his head to a random song in a playlist you two created together, adding random things in there from time to time. You can't remember the name, it's one of his songs you think, which is confirmed by him humming quietly in the passenger seat next to you, scrolling through his phone.

Noah still hasn't said a word by the time you reach your apartment, and doesn't bother saying anything when he gets out of your car, shuffling behind you. You try to hide your worry as you unlock your door, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Make yourself at home."

He makes a noise in response, a quiet hum, toeing off his shoes before making a beeline for your couch, sinking immediately into the cushions. You smile at that, watching as he gets comfortable in your space. It wasn't always like this, when the two of you first became friends, but after years of growing closer, your space was almost like his. It was nice to know he trusted you that much.

"Have you eaten?" You call out to him, making your way around your kitchen. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"No."

You glare at him, but he still isn't looking. "Noah."

"Wasn't hungry." He brushes it off before pausing and finally looks up from his phone, exhaustion evident in his features as he stares at you. "I'm kind of hungry now, though."

"Yeah?" That relaxes you a bit. "I got some leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"Sure."

You try to ignore the way he still sounds so... small. Barely there, like he's off in some other world. You busy yourself with fixing a plate for both you and him and make sure to pour him some water in the biggest glass that you own, knowing damn well he hasn't had a sip in hours. You bring the plates in first, setting them on the coffee table in front of your couch before going back to retrieve your drinks. You hand his cup to him, narrowing your gaze.

"Drink."

You don't miss the way he rolls his eyes but takes the glass from you without a fight, taking a slow sip. You feel like you can breathe easier now knowing that he's drunk something, and is going to eat something soon too, and you finally settle onto the couch next to him, pulling your legs up under you.

The two of you sit in silence as you mess around with your remote, trying to figure out which streaming service had Naruto on it. It had been a while since you watched it, and you knew you had to finish it. Noah's been bugging you for months, maybe even years, so now's a good time as any to start it back up.

"I can't believe you still haven't finished." You’re surprised he’s said a full sentence, words muffled around the pizza in his mouth.

"I'm trying." You whine out before taking a bite of your pizza. "There's just so many episodes."

He snorts. "You haven't even gotten to Shippuden yet."

"...You're telling me there's more?"

You look at him, head tilted and eyes wide. Noah takes in your expression and laughs, the real breathy one he does when he thinks something's ridiculous. That warm feeling in your chest returns and suddenly you feel something similar to pride fill you, being the reason behind that laughter. His lips twitch into what you think is supposed to be a smile, shaking his head.

"Dude."

"You didn't tell me there was more!"

"Yes I did! I literally told you that this was part one, and then Shippuden was part two."

"I literally don't remember that at all." You grumble out, rolling your eyes.

"You could've already been on Shippuden if you'd just watch it."

"I forgot, okay?" You cry out, which only makes Noah laugh harder. "Fucking sue me."

"We're finishing this." He says matter of factly, relaxing back against the couch. "The goal is to finish both this and Shippuden by the end of the year." You give him a crazy look, brows furrowing, and he laughs again. "Okay. How about we at least start Shippuden by the end of the year?"

You think about it for a moment before nodding your head, taking another bite of your pizza. "I think I can manage that."

He smiles for real this time, small but it's real, and you smile back.

"Deal."

One episode turns into two, two turns into three, and somehow three turns into you almost finishing the season you'd been on for the last few months. You've finished your pizza by this time and Noah's been resting his head on your shoulder for the last three episodes now. The light from outside is dimming, and you know you should probably take him back home. You've kept him here much longer than he agreed to, but he hadn't said anything, just kept saying to play the next episode. He was finally relaxed and seemed to have finally forgotten about the song, at least for the moment.

And selfishly, maybe a part of you wanted to keep him here, pressed into your side for just a little longer.

The episode finally comes to an end and you go to ask if he wants to watch another episode, but a soft snore interrupts your sentence. You blink down at Noah asleep on your shoulder, face pressed against you and mouth open. You probably should be a little disgusted at the way he is most definitely drooling on you but instead you feel... endeared. He feels safe enough to sleep around you, and that feeling in your chest returns.

You reach for your phone next to you, typing out a text to Jolly that Noah had fallen asleep and you'll bring him back whenever he wakes up.

Thank fuck. He's been on nightmare mode for the last three days. He needs this.

A moment later another message from him comes through.

Thanks, btw. I don't know what he'd do without you, and quite frankly, me either. ❤️

That feeling in your chest blossoms into something you can't quite explain, a smile stretching across your lips. You send back your response before tossing your phone onto the couch and you rest your head against his, pressing your body closer to your best friends.

You're not sure what you'd do without him either.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Happy Birthday, B (Blair Waldorf x gn reader)

Summary: when you're too late to celebrate your girlfriend's birthday, you vow to make it up to her

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, cunnilingus/vaginal fingering (Blair receiving), light praise kink

A/N: so blair's birthday was november fifteenth and of course I don't remember until early morning the next day so please take this as an apology fic for forgetting (I love you B I'm sorry </3)

It was Blair's birthday, and you'd fucked up big time by doing the one thing you swore you wouldn't: not showing up.

You'd gone on a business trip right beforehand, promising you'd make it back in time to celebrate it with her. Your plane was supposed to land early enough on the fifteenth of November so you'd make it, but between flight delays and unexpected turbulence of course that didn't happen. Now you were arriving just after midnight on the sixteenth with an overdue birthday gift and a very angry girlfriend.

"Baby, I'm home," you called out as you entered your shared penthouse where you had the limo drop you off, frowning slightly when she didn't immediately come to greet you at the door. You supposed you couldn't really blame her all things considered.

"Baby?"

You dropped the shopping bags full of her birthday gifts- all of which were highly expensive designer and luxury brands, as you got only the best for your beloved -in the front walkway of the penthouse before continuing your search. When you finally found her, she was in the bedroom, pouting while staring down at the sheets.

"Baby," you cooed out as you moved to sit next to her on the bed. She simply huffed and turned away from you, clearly upset. "Baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner, my flight got delayed, and then it got cancelled, and-"

"I don't care about any of that," she spoke suddenly, her voice snippy and full of irritation. "It was my birthday, and you were supposed to be there with me."

"I know, baby, I know, and I'm so sorry," you desperately tried to apologize, wanting nothing more than to see her happy again. "I brought you some gifts I think you might enjoy," you added in hopes that perhaps that would be the thing to lift her spirits again.

You noticed her eyes lit up very briefly at the mention of you having gifts for her, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared, that same sullen expression returning as she mumbled out "Whatever".

The guilty frown on your face only deepened even further at that. "Baby, please," you pleaded, now starting to feel a little hopeless. "There has to be some way that I can make this up to you."

It was as if you'd said the magic words, because the next thing you knew her previously pouty lips had curled upwards into a mischievous smirk. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something," she purred in a low and sultry tone, her gaze already darkening with the oncomings of lust.

That's how you found yourself with your face between her thighs in the earlier morning hours after her birthday, doing something that would certainly always make it up to her no matter what you'd done wrong, and that included missing her birthday.

She mewled and whined at the feeling of your tongue dragging along her wet slit, gently lapping up her sweet juices. One hand rested on her thigh, making sure her legs were kept spread while the other was inching closer and closer towards her aching hole itself.

Her back arched upwards almost immediately the moment she felt your fingers nudge inside her, expanding her velvety walls as you slowly pushed them in. "God, yes," she moaned loudly as her hands reached down to rest on top of your head, directing your mouth on where to go. "Just like that, God- Just like that, so good-"

The sound of her being expressively happy rather than angry at something you did only boosted your confidence and made you want to please her even more, which was definitely achieved judging from the loud whimper she let out when you changed course and decided to start lightly sucking on her clit.

"I- I'm gonna cum-" She announced right as her hips began bucking up against your face, your fingers intentionally plunging deep within her when she said that.

You could feel her body tense up underneath you, and you peeked up at her from your spot between her thighs, watching as she tilted her head back while biting her lip, trying to muffle her sounds of ecstacy the best she could. You were just about to pull away when you felt her hand shove your mouth back against her swollen clit.

"What, you didn't think we were done, did you?" She said with an obvious scoff, spreading her legs a bit further apart to give you some more room. "You owe me at least one more orgasm as well as whatever's in those bags that you brought me before you can even think about being forgiven."

She drove a hard bargain, but that was why you loved her. "Of course, baby. Whatever you say," was your only response to the demands that were being made, your fingers beginning to pump in and out of her at a quicker speed than before as you went right back to eating her out.

Blair was known to most to be hard to please, but you knew exactly which buttons to push in order to get back in her favor, and you intended to use them to your advantage. After all, the birthday girl deserved to be spoiled.

"This just in: B allegedly received apology head from her tardy partner after they didn't make it back in time for her birthday. At least, that's what's been gathered from what the neighbors say. Talk about a noise complaint. Here's a tip: next time, B should gift them with a watch so they'll remember to keep an eye on the time, or perhaps a calendar so they'll never forget her special day. Or at the very least she should hide their passport from them so they can't jet off somewhere without her. They might've left you hanging in the first half, but from what we've heard they always know how to keep you properly satisfied in the end. Happy birthday, B. Here's to hoping it wasn't a total disappointment. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl."

End notes: I'm so obsessed with this even though it was written super duper fast haha

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[tinynerddeer]

Missing You

Alec Volturi X Fem!Reader

Summary: You begin to miss your vampire soulmate when he leaves you in the italian castle on an important mission.

Warnings: suggestive material

Authors Note: My first work!!! I've been deliberating this for the longest time. I am open to criticism (be nice please lol) and any comments! Hope you enjoy 💞

》》》》

The bed you usually shared with him was cold and empty while he was gone. You opted to sleep on the couch included in your lush chambers in his prolonged absence. His being away was prolonged exactly by five days as his mission was originally supposed to be two days, but was extended to a full week immediately after his departure. Alec's phone calls were hurried as he was always pulled away by the rigorous chase of a troubled rogue vampire. The hasty words shared between the two of you were never enough for either side.

You layed upon your velvet sofa, gazing at the gold bracelet gifted to you by Alec. It had a darling engravement on the plaque: "forever". Your phone rang and you hurried to jump up to grasp and answer your phone.

"Hello", you tried to not sound excited or anxious, although you currently were both.

"My Tesoro, are you well? I expect to be home shortly." He sounded slightly strained, although you chose not to comment on it.

"I'm fine." You come off more snippy than intended, but move past it to not worry him. "You caught him? Finally?"

His reply came immediately: "Yes-- well, Jane caught him."

You giggle, a sound that always made Alec's dead heart flutter. "I bet she did." You pause. "So...soon as in tonight or..." you let your impatience do the talking, much to Alec's amusement.

"Yes as in tonight, princess." You heard the smirk in his voice. "Can you handle another few hours, dear?"

"Don't tease me." You order sternly. "Run here as fast as you can because 'another few hours' is all that I can handle anymore." Your snarky response was followed by Alec's laugh before you hung up to get ready for his return.

You take your time in showering and applying light brushes of makeup while listening to music. When you were in your shared walk-in closet surveying your options of dresses, you felt cold hands on your waist.

"Don't bother putting anything else on when your robe is about to come off..."

You quickly turn around to throw your arms around Alec's neck. "Alec! I missed you!" You hugged him tighter as he leaned closer to your neck to leave kisses.

"And I you." His lips moved up to your cheek, then to your lips. The kiss was filled with longing. Your tongues soothed eachothers as your hands moved to his shoulders to anchor yourself so he could pick you up.

He walked the two of you over to your perfectly made bed and sat you down. Your hands slid down Alec's chest where he held them there between his own hands. "It's been too long..." you state in a sultry manner, laying back on the comforter.

"I can't help but to agree with you, my lady." Alec's response was accompanied by his hands running down your thighs, and back up again to toy with the hem of your robe. "Shall I act on my earlier words?" Alec winked at you while he waited for you to give your consent, a must in your relationship.

"You shall," you giggled out in excitement. Your robe now dangled off of your shoulders, and Alec's hands are tracing the lace of your panties. Slight rubs through the fabric had you letting out panting breaths. "Alec," you whimpered.

His movements suddenly stopped. He gained a statue like appearance with his unmoving eyes and pristine skin. You tugged on his sleeve to gain his attention. "Don't tell me."

His lips were now pursed in an apology. "You know I don't mean for this to happen--." Bangs on the doors sound and you hear a teasing voice directing Alec to the throne room: Demetri.

"I'm afraid you and your hands are needed elsewhere, Alec." You scoff at Demetri's inappropriate words, and move off of the bed to put your robe back on.

"Be quick. Dont make me take matters into my own hands." You warn Alec.

This makes Alec determined to get back to you in a timely manner; he speeds out the door, almost trampling over Demetri.

A busy vampire you were mated to.

[stellarbit]

i have a kinda strange ask.

so i have severe insomnia. i've done sleep studies and meds but sometimes i just CANNOT sleep, even as bad as multiple days no sleep. doctors and i are still working on a fix. it's a fucking nightmare (except i can't have nightmares if im not asleep, can i???)

i'm a very calm, quiet, logical, and collected person except when i can't sleep. then i'm a crying and genuinely insane wreck.

i would absolutely LOVE if you could do some kind of Crosshair x female reader with some kind of scenario like this. it would make me feel better. Like maybe he didn't see her sleep the previous night and finds her still awake at like 3am the next night and this normally stoic girl is just an absolute unhinged psychotic mess and he has to fix it 🤷🏻‍♀️

idk how far ur willing to go (leaving it up to you) but just as a general idea as to how i (and many other people with this problem) get without sleep, i can get kinda violent, super snippy with people, can't stop crying, impulsive, physically sick sometimes, and don't always sound coherent or refuse to listen to people even if they're trying to help me. it's not a fun mental state to be in.

i'm never sleeping so i might as well read your literature (it's like a nightly ritual i love your stuff)

thank you 🙏

I know what it's like. Insomnia kicks my ass occasionally and it wrecks me and takes days of my life away before I can finally sleep. I hope you find some rest buddy <3 alsothankyouforthecomplimentjfc

give this a listen while you read

Just Lay With Me

Word Count: 1.5k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader SFW Warnings: insomnia kicking your ass all the way to next Sunday Summary: After a long bout of no sleep, you break and Crosshair is there to pick up the pieces. gif credit: @moonstrider9904

Sleep evaded you more and more often lately. Your new normal was turning into nights without more than an hour of dozing off. Nights that stretched into a week at a time with an occasional night of sleep, however restless. This time around the sleepless nights were quickly working their way to a month’s stretch.

After a few nights of frequently waking, two rotations went by without so much as a blink of sleep. At this point you weren’t just delirious, nausea turned your stomach and your head throbbed constantly. Every sound jarred you, pushing you to the brink of crying each time. 

Unable to string together more than a few coherent thoughts at a time, you’d planned on avoiding town the next. You were liable to snap at the smallest slight, but even in this state you knew it wasn’t fair to others.

By the time Crosshair came to find you, you were well beyond your limit.

Crosshair noticed your erratic behavior first. You’d snapped at Omega when she and Crosshair bumped into you on the street. Crosshair tried to stop you from walking off but you bit his head off too.

It was unlike you. Ordinarily, you were composed and rational—characteristics that had faded as your sleepless nights dragged on.

Your increasingly disheveled look became Crosshair’s next worry. You didn’t preen by any stretch of the imagination, but you took care of yourself and it always showed. Now, your skin took on a dull hue, your hair greasy and untamed, and dark circles gave your eyes a sunken appearance.

The night before he and Omega ran into you, Crosshair had noticed a light on in your home around 2 AM. Knowing you weren't typically up at that hour, he found it strange. The following evening, as he lay in bed, thoughts of your earlier encounter in town filled his mind. With a growing suspicion, he rose and stepped out to the patio. From there, he could see a dim light shining from your bedroom window.

He knew what insomnia looked like, had fought with it himself after being trapped on that Kaminoan platform, and didn’t want to push you if his suspicions were true. 

Then, the sound of glass shattering from your home shattered his hesitation. He leapt over the patio railing, his feet barely touching the ground as he dashed toward your house. Fortunately, your door was unlocked—an issue he noted to address later—and he entered your home in seconds.. 

He didn’t call out for you, instead choosing to quietly make his way through your space, tiptoeing through scattered blankets and clothes strewn over furniture. When he found you, you were on your kitchen floor, hunched over with your hands fisting your hair. 

Soft heaves shook your body as you rocked in place. Broken glass surrounded you, making the situation even more delicate.

Crosshair had been right, you hadn’t been sleeping.

Knowing there was no good way to break the silence, Crosshair softly called your name. Sure enough, you jumped hard and nearly slid onto a shard of glass.

Crosshair lurched forward to steady you by your upper arm only for you to rip out of his grip. You whipped your head around, hair falling in your face in a deranged look. It fit seeing as you certainly felt deranged. 

The sniper’s eyes were uncharacteristically soft, with brows slightly raised and shoulders relaxed. It felt like pity. Red hot shame flooded your system, sending you shuffling like a newborn fawn to your feet. 

In a harsh, hoarse voice you lashed out, “What are you doing here?”

Crosshair glanced at the mess around you.“Your lights were on and I heard something break.” You didn’t answer leaving only heavy silence between you. Crosshair sighed, looking back at you. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

There wasn’t enough air for you to answer, your breath hitched into small gasps as tears warped your vision. Dipping your head back, you managed to blink back some of the wet from your eyes. With a determined shake of your head, you cleared your voice and firmly said, “I’m fine.” 

A line in the sand between you - a desperate claim to control something, anything.

His eyes on you, those sharp, all seeing, critical eyes, made your skin crawl. Not him specifically, but him seeing you as you were. This wasn’t how you wanted him to see you. Unable to stop the uncomfortable squirm that rolled through you, you waved both hands at him as if to ward him off.

“Please just leave.” Your voice was pleading, your eyes blinking furiously. 

“I’m not doing that.” Crosshair said gently. You weren’t sure if your tears, the lighting, or reality itself made Crosshair look so hazy.

Perhaps this was the next step into delirium. The thought widened your eyes with newfound fear. He’d appeared so suddenly - was he even real? Crosshair narrowed a worried look on you as a fresh, sickening feeling gripped you, spurring you back a step. Right onto a shard of glass.

You cried out, nearly collapsing, but Crosshair was quick to support you, preventing you from falling completely. The pain shooting through your foot crumbled your remaining resolve.

Crosshair swept an arm under your knees to scoop you into his arms. He hugged you close, even as you thrashed against him in fits of sobbing. He carried you to the bathroom and carefully set you on the edge of the tub.

Despite the sobs, you let Crosshair put your injured foot under the tap and rinse the blood still seeping from your wound. He felt the tremors wracking your body as he angled your foot towards him. Luckily the shard was sticking out enough that removing it would be easy enough under normal circumstances.

“I have to pull the shard out.” Crosshair said as inspected your foot. A choked sob pulled his eyes to your face again. Your lips wobbled in a devastated frown on your blotchy tear stained face.

Seeing you so fragile or haunted tore something in him knowing he could do little more than sit and watch you fall apart.

In an exhausted whisper, you confessed, “I’m so tired, Cross.”

“I know,” He whispered back and removed the shard in one swift pull.

Crosshair put your foot under the tepid water again, simultaneously pulling a towel from the rack beside him. As he dried your foot and applied pressure to the wound, he decided to share something.

“When the empire recovered me from the Kaminoan platform…” He paused on a deep breath. He hadn’t even told his brothers or Omega, but if he could do nothing else he hoped he could at least make you feel less alone.

Crosshair gently pulled you by your leg and pivoted you out of the tub. Braving vulnerability, he knelt in front of you and said, “I… I didn’t sleep for a long time. I don’t know how long, exactly, but long enough that I had to be sedated.” He smoothed a hand over your knee, adding, “I know what it’s like.”

You gave a small nod, focusing on regulating your breathing, too overwhelmed to speak. Sensing your need for comfort, Crosshair whispered, “Can I carry you to bed?” His tone was gentle, mindful not to startle you.

Your head fell forward in shame. Pressing a hand over your eyes you shook your head and mumbled, “It’s a mess.”

Crosshair couldn’t help the soft snort that came from him, drawing your head back up. A questioning, almost offended, look came over you. Crosshair didn’t ask for further permission as he came in close to you and lifted you with him. 

“You should see Tech’s room.” He teased, his breath warm on your cheek. “And he sleeps whenever he likes.”

The small joke did manage to lift your lips and you found some comfort in the cadence of his steps. He’d not yet gone this far for you. No one ever had. 

Crosshair crawled into bed with you still in his arms, pushing into your tousled duvet and placing you next to him. Leaning across you, he murmured an apology and froze before turning your light out.

Peering down past his arm at you, he swallowed before asking, “Do you mind if I stay with you?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but a small smile warbled over you. You hummed out an affirmative and rolled towards, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. Crosshair chuckled under his breath and turned off the light.

He slid in next to you, sitting at an angle that his arms cradle around you. His made lazy trails over your back

“The kitchen-” you started.

“Tomorrow.” Crosshair cut you off. “For now, just lay with me.”

In the quiet hour, in your messy bed, in Crosshair’s arms you finally found rest.

[gg-neptune]

Sevy Helping with a Flare Up

A/N: So, this is based off my struggle with the illness' I have. I have a few that they just make it hard to function sometimes and life all around painful. I usually have to just push through, but I hope this can bring comfort to anyone else who struggles with chronic illness as well or if your just tired. I know this can't be specific to everyone so I based it off mine and my struggles I am sorry if you cannot relate. This is more of what I wish someone would do to me when I wake up and feel like ughhhhhhhhhhh. I hope you enjoy <3333. Thank you for all the support feedback is welcome :))

Word: 1.0k

He would do everything he could think of for you

Acts of Service king

He wants to lighten your load and make things easier for you in general

When you have a flare up or it’s just a bad day, he’s all over trying to do everything he can to help you

Want a bath? He’s already got it run. Want a massage? He’s got a massage bed, don't ask where from? Want food? Five course meals eat as much or as little as you want. Want to complain? He’s a licensed therapist.

You simply want to lay in bed and let tears slowly drip down your face as you contemplate the point of continuing life if this is what your life will be like? He will be there holding you in his arms wiping away your tears pressing a kiss or two to your face reassuring you that this is going to pass.

He always is on you about taking your meds too

He always remembers

And any potion he can possibly think of that will help you he will brew immediately and have a stock of it at all times if it proves to be helpful

If you have headaches, he will be quieter than you knew a human could

His chest is always open to you, and you are always welcome to come rest your head upon it when music it too loud, but you need some noise

Recently it seemed as if your body had been slowing down

Every movement took so much out of you it was a struggle to move your limbs not to mention the pain shooting through your body when you would make a bigger movement than usual

The overwhelming feeling of fatigue was taking over your body as well after being in so much pain for almost 2 weeks by now with no sign of it getting better your body was giving out

So, when you awoke on that warm Monday morning attempting to sit up and immediately feeling a pain shoot through your lower back up to your shoulder through your elbow you knew you were screwed

Whining at the feeling you try to stretch a bit to alleviate the pain to no avail

Severus moves at the sound of you being in pain, immediately being awoken

“Are you ok?” He asks gently, bringing his hand up to rub circles over your shoulders

“Do I sound ok to you?” you respond in a snippy voice. The immediate pain first thing in the morning putting you in a foul mood

He winced at the sound of your voice, “What hurts?”

“Everything,” you groan out before easing your way back down into the bed resting your head on the pillow, pulling the covers over your head. “I just don’t feel good, sorry I’m being pissy.”

“It’s ok, I understand It’s not your fault.”

“It’s no excuse.”

The man leans down over you putting part of his weight on you hoping to help you, “I forgive you it’s ok.” He gently whispers in your ear his warm breath casting over your ear tickling you slightly

You simply hum in response not having the energy to respond to him fully, your head was aching dully it was like your body had been beaten and was now bruised and recovering, but it would forever be recovering, never healing

“Do you want some breakfast,” his deep voice asked you gently, his hands now running lightly through your hair which in response you swatted him away not wanting your tender head to be touched

“No, I feel like I’m going to be sick,” the thought of any type of food getting anywhere near you immediately making bile raise in your throat luckily you were able to swallow it back down

“Do you want me to just leave you alone and let you sleep,” he asked sarcastically a hint of knowing in his voice though already aware what your response would be

“I have classes to teach today.”

“I’ll tell Albus he’ll find someone to cover just go back to sleep alright? Let me take care of it I’ll be back in a moment,” he whispers to you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips savoring every second and then carefully removing himself from on top of you, tucking you in making sure the blankets fully covered you

You stare into the abyss for a while not being able to fall asleep for quite a while, despite your exhaustion and desperation to sleep and to rest your body would not go to sleep, so instead you opt for staring into the wall

Music would be too loud right now, but the silence is deafening

Finally, you hear Severus enter quietly, his footsteps light and soft in case you were asleep

He carefully peeks into your shared bedroom to see if you were asleep

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Can’t,” you grumble out irritably before rising up slowly, some of the pain having subsided by now allowing you to get out of bed

Almost until you stand and suddenly all of the blood in your head rushes out of your head and you immediately start to sway, this has happened so many times however you are used to locking up and steadying yourself

Severus will quickly realize this and rush to your size placing his hand on your power back to steady you and his other hand on your shoulder. He supported you until you were able to stand on your own still helping you to the couch borderline carrying

You make your way to the couch (with his help) and tuck your legs underneath you, trying to retain heat in the cold room

“Would you like me to run you a bath,” he asks still talking quietly not wanting to hurt your head

You nod the thought of the warmth of the water enveloping being very comforting and soothing right now

He has one of his fists clenched as he walks over to you, he holds it out to you

"What is that?"

"Your pills," he states. You had forgotten about them completely. Dropping them in your hand before going to run your bath.

Situating yourself in the water allowing it to wash away some of the dull aching all over, Severus say crisscrossed right outside leaning his head against his hand

“I wish there was more I could do for you,” he said quietly his voice laced with empathy the thought of you being in pain and him not doing enough not being a comforting idea for him

“You do more for me than I would’ve ever done for me.”

[acefiree]

𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 | bedtime argument

Raphael ✷ Grayson ( dating ) MASTERLIST

ᕦ(๏益๏)ᕥ: when stupid argument turn into a cuddle session with the hotheaded ninja.

WARNINGS: ocs, first pov, cuddling, slight tension, harsh words.

NOTE: this can be read as a reader insert, so enjoy ❤️

      IT WAS A PETTY argument, one that I couldn’t even remember how or why it started. But it was still an argument, and it left me fuming with my boyfriend. My very hotheaded, burly, boyfriend – who right now, was lying on his side of the bed, eyes sharp as the Sai he wields as he stared down at me.

      "Why are ya' actin' like a brat?" The fuck? His words came off gruff, and the tone he used caused my blood to boil. Did he really just call me a brat?

      "Brat? Seriously?" I snipped, the angle I was in giving me a perfect view of his face. I squinted my eyes up at him. I know this was childish, but the petty side of me was strong. So I did the most logical and expected thing any girlfriend would do when pissed off at their boyfriend. I grabbed a handful of my thick duvet, jerking it up my body until it reached under my chin, “I’ll show you a frackin’ brat!”

      This time, instead of egging him on to get a rise out of him, I swiftly rolled over and faced away, curling under the blanket to hide myself from his glare. I could feel the bed shift from behind me, dibbing deep from the weight of the burly turtle. There was a gruff huff, and I knew Raphael was even more annoyed now.

I felt the bed shift again, and I could only assume he was rolling onto the back of his shell, given the fact the matress jostled with his movements, as if he were having a little trouble getting comfortable. After that, a deafing silence filled my room and the only sounds was of us breathing. I'm sure a whole hour passed, and by then, I had calmed to the point I started to feel bad.

All I wanted to do now is roll over, curl into his arms, and pepper kisses on his face until he showed me that breath taking smirk I loved so much. But the stubborn side of me wouldn't allow that. Raphael couldn't think what he said earlier was okay. Sure, calling me a Brat pissed me off, but that wasn't the reason I was upset.

He had just come through my window in a pissy mood because things at the lair where tense, him and Leo butting heads again, so naturally he was already upset, with his quick temper and rebellious attitude. I know he had a hard time controlling his actions when it came to following his older brothers demands for their team. But what started our argument was something so so stupid, and I should have known telling him to give Leo a break would set him off.

Raphael just wanted someone to take his side for once, but I didn't, instead I took his older brothers side. Though, it wasn't with ill intent. I only said what I said because it was true. Leo could be an ass sometimes, but the guy had the stress of protecting his younger brothers, and on top of that, he was the leader. And when I tried telling Raph that, it didn't play out the way I had hoped.

"If ya' wanna defend Fearless so bad, why don't ya' date him instead,"

Those words had hurt, but I knew he didn't mean them. It was very, and I mean very rare for Raphael to get snippy with me like that. But tonight, I caught him in one his worst moods, and I should have approched the situation better. Though, I wasn't going to give in and let him think speaking to me like that was okay.

Cause it's not, and he won't do it again. I couldn't give in to his tough-guy charm, which always made my heart flutter in the most alluring way.

      I kept my eyes closed, hoping soon, sleep would take me so I wouldn't just fold.

      Just as I was starting to relax, and drift into sleep, the feeling of three large fingers incasing the side of my shoulder had me wide awake and on guard. At first, I reached up, pushing his hand away, trying to show him I meant business. But then, the bed dipped as he rolled to face me and a muscled arm around my mid-section made my stubbornness melt away as I was tugged backward into a hard, plastron chest.

      His arm slotted under mine as he gently turned my upper half a little so he could see my face, his beak burring into the dip of my shoulder as he laid a small kiss on my skin. A tiny shiver ran down my spine as he let out a small rumble, the deep sound vibrating against my back as he left a trail of soft kisses until he got to my ear and lowly whispered.

"I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn'a spoke to you that way..."

His lips were ghosting over mine as I turned my head, finally getting a good look at those green eyes I loved so much. There was a softness to his gaze, and I could see the regret shining in the pools of his eyes.

My own gaze softened the longer I stared into his eyes, and no words had to be shared, because I knew, he was honestly sorry and he knew he messed up. And he also knew I couldn't stay mad for long, especially not when was staring at me like that, a look I was sure he had learned from Mikey, who oftentimes got anything he wanted when he pulled this expression.

      His soft apology had me like putty in his hands, and all I could do in response was nudge my nose against his, laying a soft peck on the scar on his upper lip before grasping the hand that somehow wedged its way on the other side of my head. Turning back around, I sunk into his hold and tugged his arm under my chin, which was slunked over me like a protective blanket. I kissed his knuckles, earning a deep churr in response as he relaxed and laid back, effectively pulling my smaller form closer.

      I felt him bury his face into my hair, inhaling deeply "Ya' drive me crazy, babe."

      This time, a tiny giggle escaped my lips and I ran my fingers over his forearm, marveling at how rough he was compared to my softness. "You love me for it,"

      "Yeah, I do." He murmured, kissing my head once more before dropping his hands to trail the curves of my body that were slotted against his larger form. He rumbled once again, "So fuckin' much,"

MASTERLIST

[eddiediazismyhusband]

breathe friend you know tommy is bones in s8, he's not bucks endgame the reliable leaker has literally been clear about that. don't believe anything that psychopath on twitter says, she's literally insane.

oh trust me i don’t believe anything she says lmao

and i know the leaker said that about tommy but tbh that dont mean shit about whether or not they are actually going to fix any of the fuckery they pulled in s7

just because they are allegedly giving tommy the boot doesn’t mean they’re going to actually get their shit together and stop ship baiting us; so like i said until they actually start to give us any indication that they’re going to stop mistreating poc characters for cheap drama and that storylines are actually going to be thought out beforehand rather than thrown together because “ehh, this is good enough” i’m not going to be wasting my time. these shows are meant for entertainment. if i am not being entertained by what’s being done, why am i going to waste my energy on it?

i dont say this to sound snippy or rude, anon, and it is NOT directed at you specifically (and i really hope it doesn’t come across that way i am just bad at emoting through screens 😭😭), i promise, but sometimes it feels like people who try to “talk me off the ledge” in these anonymous asks don’t really look at what i’m actually saying and they jump to the conclusion that i’m just making shit up to panic about, but the fact of the matter is that everything i talked about in that post is something that could feasibly happen… all of buck’s love interests up to this point have not been narratively satisfying; developed or not. so even if tommy does end up going like the leaker said (again not getting my hopes up because things change at the drop of a hat in this business) that doesn’t mean they will actually follow through with queer eddie or that any other potential love interest for buck will be in any way narratively satisfying. i’m not saying i’m closing on buddie, because i will love them and ship them together when my body is six feet under, but after the burning dumpster that was s7 post the cruise ship arc, i don’t have the faith in tim that i had before.

at the end of the day, yes abc is a more accepting and inclusive studio, but it is still that: a studio. a corporation. a money maker. they don’t actually give a fuck about the fans. i have seen time and time again that these shows do this cat and mouse shit with a queer ship and then never follow through, even if one of the characters involved does end up being confirmed queer. maybe it was a little harsh to say that tim is only interested in money, but after how little thought and care he put into last season it’s hard not to feel like he actually cares about the fans who have stuck with this show since the beginning.

i’ve mentioned before that i have stuck with this show for seven years. i have shipped buddie since s2. i witnessed the s4 buildup and subsequent letdown in s5 and 6. I know that was not tim’s fault specifically, that KR and Fox both fucked the show over

but that does not mean that tim won’t also change his mind— we saw evidence of that last minute with all the rewrites that were happening post mid season hiatus with s7. he found out he’s getting another season so he changed the plot of 7b, and if they get a season 9, all the more reason to keep dragging the buddie bait hype along with now true intentions to follow through?

i reslly really reallly wanted to trust tim again especially after the potential he had with the shooting arc in s4, but sometimes it feels like he himself has closed on buddie since then unless it’s done as a last-ditch effort to save the show… again, i’m not saying i think bt is going to be endgame, but just because they aren’t endgame doesn’t mean buddie is and that is what pisses me off. that we will have been waiting for nearly a decade for this ship to go canon, we will have gone through so much hate and vitriol from the bt stans, we have been teased and built up time and time again (even in s7), we have been bait and switched with no satisfactory outcome, and we have been laughed at the entire time, and there is a possibility that none of it will actually pay off, all because some white man gets to call the shots and he’s shown that all he cares about is melodrama and trolling people online to stir up shit.

anyway, i didn’t mean to hijack this post, anon, but i wnated to further expound upon what exactly my point was in my original post, which was not that i believed Bree’s delusions or that the helicopter pilot is buck’s endgame, but that i won’t trust tim to actually go through with anything promising until i start to see actual concrete irrefutable evidence of it.

[givemea-dam-break]

could you possibly do lockwood x reader and the reader is always slightly to eager to sacrifice her life for george and lockwood etc to the point where lockwood is concerned about it and he confronts her abt it and she basically says how does the same thing like kinda angsty.

sorry that was long and rly specific and sounds abit depressing in retrospect 😭 no pressure if not love ur lockwood and co imagines tho

a/n: oh i can absolutely do this! if there's anything i love, it's lockwood and angst lol. i hope you enjoy!! and don't worry about the length of a request, if there's something you want then I'll do it <3

warnings: mild language, angst, mentions of death gn reader

It's four in the morning and all you want is a good cup of tea and to lie down, but when does anything ever go the way you want it to?

As you sit on one of the kitchen chairs, Lockwood is fumbling around, trying to patch up a gash on your forehead after a scuffle with the ghost you had a case for tonight. You feel like a child. Even more so because he's telling you off.

If you're being honest, you've not been listening to most of what he's been saying, partly because of exhaustion and pain, partly because he's been pattering on for so long that, quite frankly, you've lost interest.

"Are you even listening to me?"

You flinch as Lockwood slathers antiseptic cream on the cut. "Honest answer?"

"Preferably."

"Then no. What were you saying?"

The look he gives you holds no humour. No, this is the look Anthony Lockwood gives when he's tired and irritated and unable to keep up the farce of a charming, unbothered business owner. It doesn't hold much sway over you, and it never has, truthfully, but you can empathise with him. Solely because he often acts the same way you're acting now.

"You can't keep doing this," he says. His eyes are fixed on the plaster he slowly places on your forehead. "You're throwing yourself into harm's way with no good cause."

"No good cause? I think making sure you and George stay alive is an exceptional cause."

"This isn't a joke, (name). This is your life."

The words irk you a little. "I could say the same to you."

Lockwood's hands drop from your head, and he looks at you straight-on now. His eyes, usually filled with curiosity and soft happiness, swirl with something else. Frustration.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're always so snippy with me after cases," you say, trying to keep the edge out of your voice, "when all I'm doing is keeping you and George safe. I mean, tonight, you were both ghost-locked when I found you! But you're no different. If anything, you're worse than me. You've thrown yourself out of windows before. Shit, you've locked me in a room to fight a ghost yourself while I tried to find a source!"

He starts packing away the first aid kit, tearing his eyes away from yours, and you know you've made a good point. He never looks at you when he knows you're right.

"Lockwood, this company can't survive without you, we can't survive without you. My risks are thought through, and I'm not doing anything that should really cost me my life. You on the other hand..."

He glances at you, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "Me?"

You sigh, willing him silently to just look at you. "You'd give your life in a second. Which, believe me, I am eternally appreciative of, but it's rarely ever necessary, if ever. I've half a mind to think you're doing it to just... you know. Finish things. I'm - we're concerned about you."

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

"Oh, you absolutely do. You are such a hypocrite!"

"Me?" The look he gives you is scathing, so unlike any way he's looked at you before. "That's rich. Who was it that jumped from a balcony to stop of ghost? Who put themself right in the path of a ghost launching itself for someone? It was you!"

The anger that grips you is almost unbearable, but you push it down. Shouting will get you nowhere, and George is trying to sleep. "First of all, that balcony hung over a thick spread of bushes, so I had no injuries except for some thorn scrapes. Secondly, that ghost was going to kill you. Third, I can name at least five more things you've done in the last two weeks that put you in much more danger. Are we seriously going to make this a competition?"

Suddenly, he stands, and his chair scrapes loudly against the floor. You wince, watching as he shoves the first aid kit back into the cupboard. He pauses, hands on the countertop, standing straight as a rod.

Drama queen, you think, but you don't dare say it out loud.

"You're getting too reckless," Lockwood says, his back still facing you. "I can't risk having an agent who is too reckless. It endangers everyone."

Oh, you want to strangle him.

Angrily, you stand, not caring that you almost send the chair clattering to the floor. You press your hands to the table, wrinkling the thinking cloth, and lean forward, scowling.

"Reckless? Do you even hear yourself, Lockwood?"

"I do."

"I think you just love to hear the sound of your own voice. Surely that's why you spout so much bullshit."

"No, I -"

"I'm talking now, Lockwood," you snap and, thank god, he goes quiet. "You of all people do not get to call me reckless, not with the shit you pull. George, yes, he can feel free. But, you? Not a fucking chance. You go out of your way to put yourself in dangerous situations! And I get it, you want to protect us, but that is what I'm doing, too, and you don't see me almost dying! I leave with a scratch or two, so what. You leave with concussions and ghost-touch and the risk of bleeding internally. But, okay, I'm the reckless one. Whatever."

When he turns, his eyes are burning. "You endanger all of us when you pull shit like what you did today."

Scoffing, you say, "All right. What should I have done? Left you and George to be killed? My question is, what would you have done, Lockwood? Would you have left us?"

His silence is your answer, and you stand straight. Your gazes are locked, both alight with rage, but you won't back down. Not on this.

"That's what I thought."

You make to leave, but he moves quickly, grasping your wrist with a touch that should be strong. You're surprised by the gentleness of his hand, how loose his grip is, and you look up at him, frowning. His gaze has changed entirely, from rage to desperation.

"I can't -" He struggles for the words. "I can't lose you, (name). Not like I lost..."

My family. The words are left unspoken, but you know it's what he would've said. There's a pang in your heart, and you want to apologise for it all, but that's always been your gut instinct. To say sorry for everything. But not this time.

"And you think I can bear to lose you?" You try to hide the waver in your voice, but he's caught it, and you know it from the way his gaze softens. "You can't order me around, demand me not to protect you guys, when you do exactly that. It's not fair, Lockwood. Not on me, not on George. And I don't - I don't want a part in this if all you're going to do is sacrifice yourself and then criticise me for doing the same."

His hand shakes as it holds yours, and that's when all the sadness hits you, the regret for the argument you've had. "I'm sorry. I just..."

Your hand closes over his. "I know. I know."

When his forehead touches yours, careful not to press on the gash, you breathe in deeply. And you breathe out all the bad, all the pent-up anger inside of you. There's too little time in your lives to spend like this.

"I won't stop unless you stop," you murmur, closing your eyes.

His breath is warm on your cheeks. "Seems like we're stuck in a checkmate forever, then."

You sigh. "I suppose we are."

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

Conversations at the Saloon Part 1

(Based on Clint's 3 Heart Event, with a side of Farmer pining after the sad chicken man without realizing. Takes place after this. Part 2 here )

Why she went into the Saloon knowing damn well Shane was going to be there, she had no idea.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew she didn't feel like cooking, not after getting knocked around in the mines all day. She knew the Stardrop Saloon was the only place in town to get a hot meal and a cold drink. And, as far as she knew, Gus didn't make deliveries. Pick up or dine in only.

But, even with all those factors, she didn't know why she would willingly step foot in a place where she had been yelled at barely 24 hours ago. Of course she could steer clear Shane(like he wanted), but it wouldn't stop the swirl of thoughts and feelings the sight of him drug up.

She didn't understand him. One moment they were commiserating, the next he was snapping at her to leave him alone, and the NEXT he was sending her a frozen pizza in the mail because he "wanted to write her a letter". What was he playing at?? Was she being punked? Did she misread the situation? Did he just...not want to associate with her in public? She had no idea, and she wasn't about to ask him after he basically bit her head off for just saying "hi".

Luckily, he was tucked away on one side of the bar and could easily be avoided. Unluckily, someone else was waving her down on the exact same side of the Saloon: Clint. Making direct eye contact and the "come here" motion with his hand in a way that was not at all subtle. She sighed heavily and hoped to Yoba Shane wouldn't notice her as she made her way over. This had better be important...

"Hello, Kat...Care to join me?" As if he hadn't just been doing his best impression of a flight instructor to get her attention. Pulling out a chair for her so quickly it made an awful screeching sound across the wood floor. If she wasn't so tired and hungry, his awkwardness would be kind of endearing.

"If this is about upgrading my tools, I don't have enough ore yet, Clint. I told you that already." Admittedly her tone was a bit snippy, but he was keeping her from grabbing something to eat and getting the fuck out. Sitting in the chair he provided and propping her chin on her hand.

"I know, I know. I..." he sighed and patted at his sweaty forehead with a napkin. "Let me just go ahead and tell you what's on my mind...I have terrible luck with women, Kat."

Oh dear Yoba, where the hell was this conversation going?

"I swear I'm a nice guy when you get to know me!" He continued, leaning forward on the table as if being able to see him closer would convince her of that. Before leaning away and dabbing his forehead again nervously. "You're a girl, Kat..."

"Last I checked, yeah." She replied flatly, half wishing the floor would swallow her up and she didn't have to be here anymore. But apparently the spirits were displeased with her today because in that chair, in this conversation she remained.

"What advice can you give me? What can I do to make Em--uh, girls give me a chance?"

Either he was very oblivious or very desperate, because he didn't seem to notice her eyes bugging out of her head. That was what he called her over for?? For fuck's sake, she hadn't so much as held hands with a man since college, how the hell was she supposed to give advice?

"I don't know, man. Just...act natural. Be yourself. Women aren't a hivemind, dude, I can't tell you how to get the attention of one specific girl." Whisper shouting and waving a hand in exasperation, still trying to avoid detection from one specific man, even though she was sure he knew she was there by now after the noise the chair made.

Sure enough, when she glanced in his direction, he was looking right at her with a curious expression. Their eyes meeting for a second before she looked away, hoping her hair hid her face.

"That's the problem...I do act natural...but I never have any success." Clint huffed, still seemingly oblivious to anything but what was going on in his head. Turning to where she had just been looking, but only because Emily was now walking their way.

She watched Clint stumble through making a food order, completely fumble a possible attempt to ask Emily out before she went to hand Shane a beer. She watched how easily the pair of them chatted, how Shane's face lit up in a smile like it was the simplest thing in the world. Feeling a twinge of...something in her chest. Something painful.

It shouldn't hurt, seeing him getting along with someone else. She'd seen how sweet he could be with Jas, with the chickens he loved so much. Seen him smile at them the same way he was smiling at Emily. Why did it bother her so much that he didn't smile like that at her, too? That she only got a hint of it before he put the walls up again?

Maybe she shouldn't be surprised he'd talk so easily with Emily. She was beautiful and bright and confident and seemed to ooze charisma like it was her purpose on earth to get along with everyone. Nothing like herself. No wonder Shane probably didn't want to be seen with her in public.

"I'm doomed..." Clint sighed next to her, watching Emily and Shane chat, as well. Almost certainly looking as crestfallen as she felt. What a pair they made.

"Yeah...me, too..."

[mental69er]

Hii. Could you write a Firecracker x Fem!supe!reader. If you'd want to you could just do whatever with this request or Firecracker recently joined the seven and, reader is already apart of the team and. Firecracker kind of develops an obsession with reader kind of like the one she has on Homelander but, she is in denial because yk homophobia "girls cant love girls!". I dont really know what else to add so 😔 (also sorry if this request is a bit of a yap session) (I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night even if you dont read or do this request!) (Also this is my first request so sorry if it sounds rude in any way.) (English isnt my first language so sorry for any errors in grammar!) (Sorry for the bother and !Remember to stay hydrated!)

I hope you have a good day/night as well! Here's some Firecracker and fem super reader!

Content: fem reader as a superhero, obsessive Firecracker, homophobic Firecracker because she's in denial, mild spice, Fireracker pinned to the wall

Firecracker couldn't stand her.

Her entire existance was an affront to God.

Firecracker had been over the moon when she'd first heard she was going to be part of the Seven. Joining the team had been a dream come true, especially for someone like her who'd come from next to nothing.

The joy of being one of the Seven quickly began to fade when she realized who her teammates were. Homelander, she could look up to, Noir and the Deep she could ignore, A-Train had long deserted, and she'd thought of Sage as a friend once before the supe had used her to become Starlight's punching bag,

But her.

The superhero known as Myght.

Everything about her infuriated Firecracker to the point that she was entirely too distracted. Myght's eyes were a soft golden brown, sparkling in the light. Her long black hair spilled down her shoulders in waves. She was so beautiful she was probably full of herself.

Her lips were full and pulled up in a cocky smirk as she sat during the meetings and imparted her opinions. Opinions she should have no right to, not when they contradicted Homelander's own.

Firecracker couldn't help but speak up during those meetings to defend their leader, earning skeptic or mildly irritated looks from Myght. Firecracker wanted to piss her off even more, as payback for the way that she couldn't stop thinking about her.

Firecracker could spend hours thinking about what Myght said in a meeting or during a mission. Thought about how awfully muscular she was. A woman shouldn't have biceps that size, or have abs, or thighs that could crush heads.

Firecracker thought about how on one mission Myght had carried Firecracker to safety in those arms and how ashamed Firecracker had been to be seen weakened like this, relying on someone she hated.

And she made sure Myght knew she hated her. She'd poke fun of her, making snippy comments, and try to take her glory during missions. Not to mention she shit talked her on her podcast and it was validating to see others chime in on their hatred of her. For the most part.

'Sounds like someone has a crush' was one of the comments on Firecracker's latest half hour rant. Firecracker immediately deleted the comment and blocked the user from ever seeing any of her videos, pulse thudding with anger.

How dare they fucking think that! Firecracker only dated men and was only interested in them. Rage pulsed through her as thoughts she tried to suppress fought to surface into her concious mind.

She decided to work them out by going to the gym in Vought tower and take them all out on the equipment there. Eventually, when her muscles were too sore, she was able to finally go back to her room and shower, trying to wash away the weird heat churning in her stomach as the comment replayed over and over in her head.

"I don't like her!" she screamed out in frustration to no one and punched through the tiled wall, before taking deep shuddering breaths to calm herself. She'd find herself doing this more frequently when multiple comments accusing her of being hot for Myght kept circulating around in her comment sections. She kept deleting and blocking but someone always said something about it.

As Firecracker's time on the Seven extended, so did her efforts to piss off Myght.

Myght barely gave Firecracker any thought and that only made Firecracker try harder to annoy her.

Eventually though, as it always did with supes, the taunting and teasing devolved into violence. Myght swung Firecracker into the wall after a particular meeting, hand to her throat holding tight, anger making her bare her teeth.

"Seriously, what issue do you have with me?" Myght had spat out, grinding words. Firecracker tried to pry the hands off of her throat, but the grip was tight. Bits of plaster crumbled around her as she struggled to free herself.

"What have I done to warrant this behavior?"

"You existing is bad enough," Firecracker grit out, trying to catch her breath. Their faces were close together and she couldn't help the way her eyes flicked down to Myght's lips. Firecracker had never realized that Myght smelled this sweet, her perfume wafting over into Firecracker's nose.

"I think you want my attention," Myght said and Firecracker laughed.

"I want you gone. Don't flatter yourself," she said, pulling her lips back to show how unaffected she was.

"Really?" Myght asked, huffing. She stepped in, til their bodies were touching. Firecracker could feel the warmth of her against her chest, feel the shape of her breasts and muscles, and her heart rate slammed up.

Her eyelids fluttered as all those annoying comments about having a crush on Myght surfaced through her mind. At all the countless hours she had spent watching footage of Myght's rescues and trainings in an effort to better understand her enemy leading to Firecracker's costume feeling uncomfortably tight.

Just like it did now, the material sticking to too hot and too tight skin.

Firecracker had wondered, against her better wishes, what it would be like to be held in those strong arms again. What it would feel like to have that body pinning her down.

"Really," Firecracker said, voice sounding too breathy.

"Are you sure about that?" Myght began slipping a leg in between Firecracker's own and Firecracker's eyes flared in panic. "Because I've seen the way you talk about me on that little show of yours. And I've seen the comments they post about us."

"You're delusional if you think I feel that way about you," Fireracker spat out even as her body tensed when Myght's thigh slotted perfectly in between her own. Fireracker had to tamp down on the ridicolous and curious urge to buck right into it.

Myght merely smirked, thumb pressing down hard over Firecracker's pulse. "We'll see about that." She stepped back and let go and Firecracker nearly fell over, legs feeling strangely weak. She rubbed a hand up and down her throat.

"Things would be a lot better if you stopped being so cruel towards me and your own self," Myght offered softly.

"Fuck off," Firecracker growled out. "You disgusting leech. I'm letting every single one of my fans know what you did today during my podcast."

"Go ahead," Myght smirked and walked off.

Firecracker mumbled a few choice words under her breath about her. She would show her! When she turned to go to her room, she became aware of the uncomfortable wetness between her thighs.

Shit.

She really didn't want to think about why that was.

And when she finished ranting on her podcast about what Myght had done to her, vindicated by the many comments agreeing with her, her feelings of arousal had not gone away. Only intensifying when she had recounted them live for her audience.

As usual, there were a few comments that continued to ship her and Myght.

'Them fucking against the wall would have been so hot. Firecracker submitting to Myght, riding her thigh until she comes all over it' followed by thirsty emojis.

That only filled Firecracker's mind with images she didn't need, images that made her hand crawl mindlessly to the front of her shorts, rubbing down as she continued to read the reply thread.

'Do you see how ripped Myght is? She could probably get Firecracker off by rubbing Firecracker's cunts against her abs'.

Firecracker stifled a whimper at the thought of that, hand rubbing harder while her hand holding her phone began to shake from effort of holding back.

'Firecracker wants to be fucked so bad by Myght. Pinned under her and taken.'

"I don't," she defended breathlessly, hips beginning to cant up. Frustrated tears leaked from her eyes as she forced herself to pull her hand away before she could orgasm. Shaking with anger and want, she tore away from the chair, tossing her phone to the side and went to the shower.

She turned the water on cold and let it run over her until her body had calmed down.

She needed to get rid of that demon woman. Only then would she be able to stop feeling this way.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Heart. Sick. (m, cold)

clearly the clicky clacky keyboard helped my writers block because here I am, back to churning out a 5k fic in one day lmao. this is a Greyson-centric one, and tbh it's a lot of exposition, and a lot of character development. but don't worry - Greyson is plenty miserable throughout 😅 I hope you guys like these ones that are a little more plot-driven! I honestly set out to write fluff but it wanted to be a drama fest. classic. enjoy!

Cw: male, cold, some mess, coughing, sick character galavanting about instead of just going to bed, implied contagion

“What is your problem today?”

Greyson’s head snapped up at the sound of his boss’s voice. He raised an eyebrow and put down his knife; this seemed like the kind of conversation that required his full attention. “What?” he asked, brilliantly.

Elijah crossed his arms. He had been leaning against the prep table, but straightened up to his full height when the chef regarded him. “You’ve been here for an hour and you haven’t even stopped in the office to say hi,” he said. Did he hear how lame and codependent he sounded? Yes. But that was their friendship – lame, codependent, and most of all consistent. Greyson always made the office his first stop when he got in; they checked in with one another, mapped out the day, traded stories from the night before if one of them had been off. Not having his morning gossip session with Greyson made Elijah feel like he was living in a weird, wrong, nega-dimension, and he didn’t want that to become a thing.

The chef huffed out a laugh. “Seriously?” he asked, picking his knife back up. “I have a lot of shit to do today, Lij,” he said. “Matt called out.”

“Oh,” Elijah said, immediately feeling stupid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am telling you,” Greyson said, looking pointedly up at his boss. “Right now.”

Elijah bit his tongue; this was exactly what he meant. Greyson wasn’t himself today. Matt calling out was obviously stressful, but the chef never let things like that make him angry, or short, or snippy. Something was definitely off – he didn’t know what, but it was definitely something.

“Did he say why?” Elijah asked as Greyson continued to chop. Greyson stopped short again and looked back up.

“Why what?”

“Why he called out.”

“Who?”

“Jesus Christ, Greyson,” Elijah threw his hands in the air. “Did you smoke a bowl the second before you walked in today? Matt. Did Matt say why he was calling out?”

“Oh,” Greyson said, turning once again to his prep work. “Yeah, some sort of flu thing. I said if he has a fever he can’t come in.”

Ah. There it was.

Greyson and Matt were what everyone in the restaurant affectionately called the plague rats – that is to say, they were the ones who brought any illness that was roaming around New York City into the restaurant, ad infinitum. They were the partiers, the club kids (though Greyson, at thirty-one should have reached the end of his club kid stage years ago), the chronic sleepers-around, and the past few months, it had gone from going out a couple times a week, to going out every single night. Hardly a month went by that the two of them weren’t complaining of a sore throat, a cold sore, a stomach bug that they’d been gifted by one of their many nights out.

And, of course, they never went out partying without one another.

“Did he seem okay last night when you guys went out?” Elijah asked, the question so pointed it may as well have been an accusation. Greyson shrugged, covered up the last of the prepped vegetables with plastic wrap, and slid them into the reach-in cooler below the prep station.

“Maybe a little off,” Greyson said. “He didn’t mention anything.”

“What time did you guys leave?” Elijah asked. Greyson gave his boss an incredulous look.

“What are you, a cop? I don’t know, mom, one or two? What difference does it make?”

Elijah recoiled a bit at the chef’s snappiness. “Christ, sorry, just trying to suss out whether he’s actually sick or just hungover.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Greyson asked, pushing his hair back into a small ponytail and tying it with a rubber band Elijah knew came from a package of asparagus. “He’s not coming in, that’s all we really need to know, right? Are we gonna track him down and fire him if he’s hungover?”

“You are on one today,” Elijah said. “No, we’re not going to fucking track him down, Jesus Christ.” This time, Elijah went for an honesty-is-the-best-policy approach. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re in a mood because you have extra work to do, or because you feel like shit.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and breezed past Elijah. He yanked open the walk-in and stepped inside, his boss hot on his trail. The chef grabbed two heads of cauliflower and a few bunches of radishes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to see Elijah practically on top of him. “Stop following me,” he growled, pushing past Elijah again.

“Greyson,” Elijah said to the rapidly-closing walk-in door. He pressed the red button to let himself out, and once again tailed the chef to the prep table. “Greyson, I just want to know if you’re alright,” Elijah said, keeping a healthy distance. Greyson took a deep breath and put down his knife.

“I am fine. Matt will be back tomorrow. Please, let me do my work. Ple – hh...hhNGSTHH-uhh!” Greyson crushed the sudden sneeze into his shoulder, picked up his knife, and continued his work, not acknowledging it at all. Elijah bit his cheek.

“Bless you,” the older man said, accusatory.

“Elijah,” Greyson said, not looking up, “leave me alone.”

Elijah nodded, not that Greyson could see it while he chopped. The GM turned, walked back to the office, and pulled out his phone to text Matt.

Hey, he typed into their chat. Heard you’re sick, hope you’re getting some rest.

Thx boss, Matt typed back almost-instantly. Should be good by tomorrow.

Elijah paused before sending his next text, but then did it before he could question himself too much. Just wanted to ask...was grey acting weird with you last night? He’s totally on one today.

It took a minute or two for Matt to text back – the three bubbles popped up and went away at least three times, as though Matt was trying to figure out what to say but kept second-guessing. Finally, the text came through.

Wait, is chef there today? He told me he was going to call shelly in.

Elijah cocked his head at the phone screen; Shelly, the sous chef Greyson had brought on a month ago, was scheduled off today. Why would he call her in?

No, it’s just greyson today. Why would he call shelly in?

This time, it took Matt no time to respond.

That asshole, he said he was going to take the day off.

I’m lost, Matt. Why would he take the day off…?

Another minute of bubbles popping up and going away ensued. When the text did come through, Elijah felt his face flame. That motherfucker, he thought, slamming his phone down, screen-up on the desk and stalking back to the prep kitchen.

On his open phone, the text from Matt: he gave me this shit. We literally went and had one drink, then he said he had to go bc he felt like trash. Fuckin greyson.

Fuckin’ Greyson. That was for damn sure.

***

He knew he was coming down with something on Monday, but it was one of those excruciatingly slow-to-come-on illnesses that made you wonder if you were actually just crazy, and this whole thing was in your head. A sneeze here, a rogue cough, the sore throat that came and went with several long drinks of water – for three days, Greyson gaslit himself, told himself he was imagining it, took Emergen-C and chalked it up to allergies.

“Morning, boss,” Matt had greeted him.

By the time Thursday – yesterday – had come around, it finally hit him properly. Greyson woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest, his head throbbing, and a lump in his throat to match the one in his stomach. He sighed as he got ready, loaded up on dayquil, and headed into work.

Greyson had returned the greeting with a rough, “HNGSTHH-ue!” and a sharp sniffle. Matt winced as his boss unpacked his knife bag.

“Yikes,” he said, “I guess that girl from the bar last night wasn’t just doing a lot of coke, then?”

“More like the guy I stayed the night with on Saturday didn’t just have a naturally deep and husky voice,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “It’s the world’s slowest-to-come-on cold, I swear. I’ve been almost sick since Monday.” He coughed into his sleeve for what felt like a long moment, came up to see a water bottle placed in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Matt said. “That makes sense, though,” he continued, “because I can definitely feel it coming on. Thought maybe it was allergies.”

“Sorry, kid,” Greyson said. “We’ll get you outta here early.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “If you’re here, I’m here, boss,” he said. The two of them had prepped in near-silence for awhile, before Greyson seemed to realize something was off.

“Has Elijah come back here yet this morning?” he asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Isn’t he off today? I think Mark said he had some sort of appointment.”

Greyson flashed Matt a little look and the sous chef blushed – Matt and Mark were very recently a thing, a fact that was clear to everyone in the restaurant and that the two of them were attempting to hide, as if any fling that took place within the confines of these walls was anything other than obvious. Greyson figured now wasn’t the time to bully his muse.

“Thank god he’s not here,” he said instead. “Elijah, I mean. I’m so sick of him giving me shit every time I have a stuffy no – NGTSHH-uh! Hh...HTSHH-ue! Fuck.” Greyson slunk away from his prep area to blow his nose, cough again, and wash his hands.

“Bless,” Matt said when Greyson made his way back to his station. “To be fair to Elijah -”

“No,” Greyson stopped Matt by holding up a hand. “We’re not talking about this.”

“I was just going to say, I mean, you have been out a lot since the whole… breakup situation.” The way Matt trailed off made it obvious that he immediately regretted bringing this up. Greyson sniffled, stayed silent for a few moments, and then sighed.

“You're one to talk. And besides, I don’t know how it’s my fault that every club in a five-mile-radius is a cesspool,” Greyson muttered, a lame attempt at a joke. Matt took the bait and huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t think Elijah blames you for the general grossness that is the midtown club scene,” he said. “I think he’s just worried about you.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had started as worry; worrying was one of Elijah’s greatest passions, after all. But it had been six months since Greyson and Collin had broken up, and in that time worry had turned to annoyance, which had led to what felt like resentment. A month before, Greyson had been laid up with strep throat, thanks to a girl who he swore was trying to steal his tonsils with how deep she shoved her tongue into his mouth, and Elijah didn’t even try to hide his distaste.

“Seriously, Grey?” he had asked when the chef stumbled into the restaurant sweating, shivering, and unable to speak. “Who over the age of twelve gets strep throat? What’s next, mono? Chicken pox? Run the gambit of diseases kids get from putting their hands in too many people’s mouths?”

Greyson knew it was stupid to go out drinking and partying every night; he knew he was too old, knew it was irresponsible, he knew he should be processing the breakup instead of drowning every feeling he had about it in booze and sex. He knew. But he just couldn’t do it. Collin was the first person he’d ever really loved; getting over the coldness with which his first love threw in the towel that was their relationship was easier said than done.

He certainly wasn’t going to tell Elijah of all people that. He loved the man; Elijah was his best friend, his business partner, the guy he called first when something amazing or devastating happened, but this was not his strong suit. Elijah was basically a nun when it came to all things partying; he prided himself on never having more than two drinks when they went out, never sleeping around, and being married to the restaurant. Greyson loved Elijah, but he knew that the GM just wouldn’t get it.

So, the reprieve from being harassed about his near-constant menagerie of illnesses was a welcome one. He and Matt had prepped, passing a box of tissues between them the entire time, they’d gotten through a relatively slow service and, like every night the past few months, they’d ended the evening at a bar a few blocks from Elliot’s.

Greyson wanted to want to be there, truly he did, but he didn’t have it in him. Maybe it was the thought of being the only chef in the next day – Matt was well and truly coming down with the cold Greyson had come in with – or maybe it was just that the constant barrage of illnesses was starting to wear on his body, but the thought of staying awake for another minute, let alone another few hours, made Greyson’s head pound.

“I’m gonna call it,” Greyson said, shooting back his whiskey and placing a twenty on the bar top. “Take the day tomorrow, alright?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What about you?” he asked, coughing into the back of his hand. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Greyson said, elbowing Matt playfully. “I’ll call Shelly in, okay? I’ll take the day, too.” It was a lie; Shelly wasn’t ready for the responsibility of running a Friday night, not even a slow one, but if it made Matt take a day off, it was worth it to lie.

“Alright,” Matt said, wary. “Well, have a good night, Chef. Feel better.”

“Same to you,” Greyson said. “Tell Mark I said night-night. Give him a little kiss for me, too.”

Matt’s face turned bright red. By the time he’d collected himself enough to respond, his boss was gone.

***

“Greyson!”

Elijah stomped his way through the kitchen, on the hunt. He reached the back kitchen before Greyson could hear him, and the chef was blowing his nose into a rough paper towel looking caught, like a deer in the headlights.

“You fuckin’ asshole,” Elijah said, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not sick,” Greyson said, sniffling and tossing the paper towel. His eyes, Elijah noticed now, were rimmed red, and his voice was low and gravelly. “It’s allergies.”

“Right,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “Contagious allergies? Allergies you passed along to Matt? For Christ’s sake, Greyson, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you lately, but you need to get it together. If Matt’s sick, that means Mark is going to get sick, then my entire front of house team gets it. What do you think you are, twenty-three years old? You can’t go out every single night and sleep around with anything that has a hole and also have an eighty-hour-a-week job. You’re not a kid, Greyson. This behavior? It’s childish. And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

Greyson stood there and took it, his mouth in a hard line. “Okay,” he said after a beat.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated. “You’re right. I’ll – hh! HhhIGSTZH-ue! Huh! HuhhESTCHZUE!” The chef sneezed painfully into his elbow, cleared his throat, and righted himself. “I’ll stop. It’s childish. Okay?” his voice was nasal, hoarse, and tight, as though he was on the verge of tears. All the fight Elijah had brought to the back kitchen was rung out of him like a washcloth at the end of a long bath.

“Um,” he said, “okay. Good. Now, go home. I’ll call in Shelly, I’m closing the books, it’ll be an easy night. Go rest so you can be good for the weekend.”

The chef just nodded, not making eye contact. “Heard,” he said, packing up his things. He didn’t beg to stay, didn’t insist that he was fine. He just picked up his bag, nodded at Elijah, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Elijah was so in shock, he didn’t even respond until Greyson was out the door. “Yeah,” he mumbled, blinking. “See you tomorrow.”

***

The pulse of the music thumped in time with Greyson’s headache; it was oddly soothing, if a little disconcerting how in tune the two were.

“I’ll take andother,” he called to the bartender as loudly as he could muster. The bartender nodded, brought the bottle over, and topped him off, smiling seductively all the while.

“This one’s on the house, love,” he said in a faint British accent that Greyson couldn’t decide was real or fake. “What’s your name?”

“You’re very cute,” Greyson slurred, all levity out the window three drinks ago. “But I’mb sick as a dog, and I’mb ndot trying to pass it around any mbore than I already have.”

The bartender laughed. “This job is worse than a daycare when it comes to germs,” he said over the thrum of the crowd and the bass of the music. “Pretty sure I’m immune to just about everything at this point.”

Greyson let a sloppy smile paint his face. “Mbust be ndice,” he said, taking a swallow of his drink, then turning to his elbow to cough. “I work in a kitchend, it’s just about as bad but I haven’t seemed to gain any immu – immu...huh...hhINGTZHH-ue! HTSHH-ue! HRSHH-ue!” Greyson pulled his white tshirt over his nose and mouth and ducked almost completely under the bar to sneeze. He swore under his breath, sucked in through his nose, and sat himself upright once again. The bartender tutted in sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he said, smiling slyly. “You should be in bed.”

He wasn’t wrong; after Elijah’s blowup, Greyson had certainly thought about doing the right thing, going home, crawling into bed and actually attempting to get better. It had only been noon when he left the restaurant, and if he didn’t have to be in til noon the next day, that was almost a full twenty-four hours that he could spend doing nothing except relaxing, resting… being alone with his thoughts…

Yeah, that wasn’t about to happen.

Instead, Greyson had walked forty blocks to Greenwich and had lunch at one of his favorite spots. He’d moved on to a coffee shop from there, writing in his little black notebook recipes that he wanted to try out at Elliot’s. After that, he’d stopped into a CVS and bought them out of dayquil; three or four swigs later, and he was on his phone rapidly texting anyone he’d slept with in the past two months to see if they wanted to hang out. They did not.

The failed attempts at a hookup sent him into a darker place than he’d like to admit, so Greyson decided four pm was late enough to start drinking, and he took a cab back to midtown to begin his nightly spiral. The bar with the cute bartender was stop number four of the evening; at stop two, the dayquil had worn off. By stop three, he was coughing every time he took too deep of a breath. This was the stop where he’d given up the facade of health and just allowed himself to be the grossest person at the bar – much to everyone but this bartender’s chagrin.

“Yeah,” he said to the bartender, “you’re probably right.”

The bartender winked and turned back to the other bar patrons, leaving Greyson to sit foggy-headed and cold, alone with his whiskey. He looked at the clock on his phone – 11:45PM. The restaurant was probably empty by now. He wondered if Elijah was still there, finishing up paperwork; he thought about texting him, then remembered the blowup again. Greyson put his phone away, pulled a fifty out of his wallet, and ducked out of the bar.

It was cold outside; it was barely September, but Greyson could definitely feel that fall was in the air. He didn’t realize until now that he’d forgotten his jacket at work. Fuck.

Greyson shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering – there was no way he was going to make it back to his apartment without a jacket. The chef looked up at the street signs and realized he was only a block or two from the restaurant. Fuck it, he thought, sneezing into his exposed elbow. I’m getting that jacket.

***

It had been a long shift.

Shelly was great, really – she was just young, and a little bit scared of the enormity of running a restaurant. Elijah had figured that out at about seven pm, when she was nearly in tears with just six tickets on the board. But they had gotten through it, with Elijah taking over expo and Shelly running inside middle. It was fine. Long? Yes. But fine.

At eleven, the restaurant had emptied and with it went the servers, cooks, and junior managers. Elijah finished up his paperwork, locked the front door, set the alarm, and sat down at the empty bar with a glass of whiskey – just him, the thrum of the heater, and the restaurant.

When he was feeling really low, Elijah would spend hours like this; just sitting at his bar, looking out into the dining room, reeling in what he had created. This space was his, a place that he had spent his entire life clawing upwards for, despite the drone of older restaurateurs telling him he was too young, or too poor, or too talentless to own his own place. Elijah hadn’t grown up with money, or support, or any kind of nepotism that would have propelled him into this field, but he’d grown up with something most people hadn’t – drive. Passion. An absolute need to succeed, despite it all. Sometimes he needed to remind himself of that.

He knew that no one could really understand his reasons for being as anal as he was about everything in the restaurant – not even Greyson, though his counterpart came close. Often, Elijah felt like he spent his life explaining himself; explaining why he wasn’t married or even dating at thirty-nine, explaining why things had to be done a certain way so that appliances and tables and chairs and glassware and plates would last as long as humanly possible; explaining why people should care about his restaurant, his vision. Sometimes, Elijah wished he didn’t have this fire inside him. This passion for his work. He knew damn well his life would be easier if he didn’t.

Elijah looked at his phone as midnight approached, thinking about the day, thinking about Greyson. He wished things had gone down differently this morning, but he know Greyson could be like a kid when it came to arguments – quick to forgive, quick to forget. Sometimes that made Elijah feel even worse; he wished the other man would scream back at him, give in to his baser desires like Elijah was so wont to do when it came to arguing. Greyson saved those more carnal instincts for after work, Elijah supposed.

It would be worked out by tomorrow, whether Elijah wanted it to or not. He sighed, drained his glass, and went to turn off the lights behind the bar – when the alarm began blaring.

Elijah froze in his tracks. Who the fuck was breaking into the restaurant?

The GM burst through the doors to the kitchen and ran towards the back, absolutely nothing to defend him in his hands. If he was defending his restaurant, he was doing so with his bare hands; he’d figuratively clawed his way up to this position, he would certainly literally claw someone’s eyes out if they attempted to take it from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Elijah heard someone at the back door before he saw them. He slowed his pace when he heard the voice. Greyson.

“Grey?” Elijah called, turning the corner and seeing the chef clumsily attempting to turn the alarm off. Greyson was wearing just a tshirt and jeans despite it being near-freezing outside, and the way he was fumbling with the alarm system meant he was almost certainly wasted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Greyson turned to his boss and smiled, lopsided. He looked like shit; he was as pale as his shirt, his nose was bright red and running so much that he had taken to swiping a hand under it every few seconds, and Elijah could hear the wheeze in every breath he took. “Oh, thangk God,” he said, moving out of the way so Elijah could turn the alarm system off. “I thought if that back was opend, I could just sneak in. To grab mby jacket.” Greyson coughed away from Elijah, an angry, productive sound that made the GM flinch. “Sorry,” Greyson said. “It’s cold outside.”

“I’m well aware,” Elijah said, turning away from the now-silent alarm. “What are you doing out? You’re supposed to be at home. Getting better. Remember, I sent you home twelve hours ago? What have you been doing, out partying? You’re sick, Greyson.”

“I kndow, I kndow,” Greyson said, yanking the rubber band out of his hair and letting it fall wildly around his shoulders. “I just… I… hh… huh! HuhhhIGTSZHH-ue! HTSH! HRSHH-uh! Fuck – HNGSTHHZUE!” The sneezes wrenched themselves from him, rough and painful-sounding. Greyson stood, post-fit, and pushed his hair back with a hand. “Sorry,” he said, his voice wavering.

Elijah sighed; it was too late to fight. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s go sit for a bit. I can’t send you home like this.”

He led them both back to the bar and, despite his better judgment, poured them each a whiskey. Greyson coughed and took a swig of his before Elijah even sat down. “Thangks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Elijah drank his whiskey slowly, trying to decide what to say to the chef. After a moment of silence so tense it could be sliced through with a butcher knife, both Elijah and Greyson attempted to start a conversation at the same time.

“Grey, I -”

“Lij, it’s-”

They both stopped, smiled at the absurdity, and Elijah motioned to the chef as if to say the floor is yours.

“Ndo, you go ahead,” Greyson said, sipping his drink. “Besides, I cand barely talk.”

Elijah couldn’t disagree with him there, so he let out one forced little laugh and then sighed. “Grey, I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Grey,” Elijah said finally, turning towards his friend, “what’s been going on, really? You’re… something is wrong. You’re not… you.”

Greyson shrugged. “I shouldn’t be bringing every disease kndown to mban into the restaurant, but here we are,” he said, coughing into his fist. Elijah laughed in earnest this time, and the two of them lapsed into silence once again.

Greyson pursed his lips, downed the rest of his drink, and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I’mb ndot.” The chef sighed and turned his barstool towards Elijah. “It’s… it’s the whole Collin thing. It’s beend… a lot harder than I thought it would be. Getting over himb.” Greyson sniffled; Elijah was unsure if it was illness-related, or if the other man was crying. He was quickly given an answer when Greyson wrenched to the side – “HGTSHH-ue! Hh! HhhNGTSHZ-ue!” The chef wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “Sorry,” he said.

Elijah shook his head. “Dude,” he said, “you could’ve just told me you were taking it harder than you expected. You know I’m always here if you need to talk. I thought we were friends.”

“Lij, we are friends, but like… I don’t kndow. It’s weird talking to you about this shit because you don’t… I don’t kndow, fuck up. You take everything in stride, like it all rolls off your back. I’mb ndot like that. Plus, you literally ndever date - I’ve ndever kndown you to have a single girlfriend, let alonde break up with someone, and we’ve kndown each other for years.” Greyson pressed his hand into one of his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, I thingk I’mb getting andother fuckigg sindus infection,” he muttered. Elijah gave his friend a pointed look.

“The fact that you know off the top of you head exactly what that feels like definitely says something about these past few months,” he said, prompting a sharp laugh and the middle finger from Greyson. Elijah smiled. “You’re right,” he said, after a beat. “I don’t date. There was a girl, a long time ago – before I bought this place. I thought we were going to get married one day.”

Greyson’s eyebrows shot up, headache clearly forgotten. “Ndo way,” he said. “You’re shitting mbe. You? What was her name? Do I know her?”

Elijah laughed. “You don’t know her,” he said. “She was actually a chef, too, at this vegan brunch place in the Financial District. But she wanted kids, she wanted me to have a job where I could be home in the evenings…” Elijah shrugged, a fingernail digging into a groove in the bar top. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Dude,” Greyson said, placing a hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

Elijah shrugged again, and looked back up at Greyson. “It was a long time ago,” he said. “But I mean – I do get it. Heartbreak, that is. You can talk to me about anything, Greyson. And I’m not some let-it-roll-off-your-back, take-it-in-stride monolith, either.” He smiled, attempting to break the tension. “Obviously I get pissed all the time so just… talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The two of them sat in silence once again, neither really knowing the right thing to say next. Finally, Greyson’s body broke the tension: “HNGTSHH-ue! God, fuck,” the chef reached across the bar and attempted to blow his nose in a cocktail napkin – to no avail.

“Bless you,” Elijah said, and Greyson nodded.

“Thangks,” he said, slowly lowering his head to the bar top. “Fuck, I feel like such hot garbage. The going out every ndight thigg is definitely ndot for anyone over thirty.”

Elijah couldn’t help but cackle. “And you wonder why I have a two-drink-maximum hard line? I’d be dead on the floor if I drank like you and Matt. Welcome to old age, bud.”

“Yeah, you mbight be on to something there,” Greyson said, closing his eyes. “Definitely ndot gonna be hooking up with anyone under twenty-five anymbore, either. They’re all cesspools. HGTSHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Elijah said again. “Want me to drive you home?”

Greyson opened one red, watering eye. “In a mbinute,” he said. “I just ndeed to...rest mby eyes.”

Elijah pursed his lips to keep from laughing at the spectacle that was Greyson; mouth-breathing, whiskey-smelling, chest-crackling Greyson. Heartbreak didn’t look good on anyone, but on him it was especially rough. Within moments, the chef was snoring.

Elijah shook his head, stripped a table of its clean white cloth, and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Rest was rest, he figured. Elijah poured himself a rare third drink and sat next to his ailing friend.

“Sleep well, Chef,” he said, and took a long pull.

[joeys-babe]

(i fudging love his hair, i have an addiction to it)

Someday We’ll Be Together

Chapter 8: Good

————————————————————————

(y/n's pov)

"what do you mean you're joes date?!" - your mom

i was getting ready in my bathroom when my mom walked in and asked what i was getting all fancy for. the look on her face when i explained the situation was one of excitement.

"he didn't have a date mom, the only reason he asked me was because i already know some of the people on his team and their partners." - you

"y/n, joe asked you to be his date! that has to mean something right?!" - your mom

"you're reading into this too much. plus it can't mean too much to him, he told me he likes someone." - you

"oh really?" - your mom

"yeah, he said he doesn't think she likes him back. i told him to shoot his shot anyways." - you

"what if he was talking about you?" - your mom

"mom. you're the reason i'm delusional." - you

"i'm being serious! don't you think it's kind of coincidental that he'd tell you that he likes someone and then ask you to be his date?" - your mom

"i don't know mom.. i don't want to get my hopes up." - you

"i understand that. just see how the night goes and you can come report back to me tonight."

- your mom

"okay i will." - you

my mom gave a me a quick smile before leaving my bathroom, probably going to tell my dad her newfound discovery about me going as joes plus one.

now that i had finished curling my hair and doing my makeup, it was time to slip my dress on. it wasn't anything too fancy, but it was nice enough for the occasion.

i was putting my heals on and doing my finishing touches when the doorbell rang. joes here.

i grabbed my purse and slipped it my phone into it as i headed downstairs. when i got to the last step i noticed that both of my parents were at the door talking to joe with ecstatic smiles on their faces.

how come they weren't this exited to greet tee on our actual date?

clearing my throat to get their attention, all three pairs of eyes landed on me as my parents turning to the side to see me revealed joe. he was wearing a dress shirt and slacks looking incredibly handsome. i watched joes eyes scan over my outfit, a smile pulling at his lips as his eyes met mine.

"you look beautiful." - joe

"thanks, joe." - you returned the smile as you walked towards the door

my parents moved out of the way as i walked out of the door and stood in front of joe.

"love you both, be safe!" - your mom

"we will!" - you answered as you walked to joes car with him

joe walked out in front of me and just when i was about to make a snippy comment, he opened the car door for me.

"why thank you." - you smiled as you sat down

"of course." - joe shut your door and jogged over to his side

your parents were watching through the blinds, unbeknownst to you and joe.

"how are they so blind?" - your mom

"i don't know. i don't know how they can't tell they like each other back." - your dad

"i know right. it's so obvious to everyone but them." - your mom

"i really hope one of them confesses eventually. they'd be the cutest couple. plus i mean i trust joe with her." - your dad

"if they do get together i take full responsibility for their relationship." - your mom

"you're the one in their ear, so i'll give it to ya."

- your dad

once i was in the car with joe he connected his phone to the cars sound system and shuffled a kid cudi album.

"of course you still listen to kid cudi" - you

"yes of course, he's the man." - joe

"i remember in high school, you'd play man on the moon on loop. i've heard that album hundreds of times." - you

"oh yeah? then maybe we should shuffle that one instead." - joe reached for his phone but you grabbed his hand before he reached it

"no!" - you laughed

joe smiled as his eyes met mine, a sudden tension falling on us as we both realized i was holding his hand. for a second i thought joe was leaning in, but i dropped his hand before i could figure out if that was true or not.

"uhm.." - you dropped his hand

"let's get going.." - joe

i let out a mhm before averting my eyes to the window, watching the scenes fly past as joe drove down the road

"i have deja vu right now" - you

"of what?" - joe

"you driving while we're dressed up. reminds me of prom." - you

"that was a really fun night. other than the after party." - joe sighed

"you mean the after party that you were dared to kiss me at?" - you

"you don't understand how self conscious i was that i was going to mess it up somehow. i hope it wasn't a bad kiss, you probably don't remember it.." - joe

"awww that's so sweet. i do remember it though, because it was my first kiss." - you

"i- i was your first kiss?" - joe

"yeah.. i know that's kind of late to have a first kiss but i was saving it for someone specific."

- you

"who?" - joe

"it's not important.." - you didn't want to admit to him that it was him

"well i wanna know who i stole your first kiss from." - joe

"seriously, it's not a big deal." - you

"please tell me." - joe

"you didn't steal it from anyone. i wanted you to be my first kiss." - you

"what?" - joe

"i thought it'd be easier since i was really close with you. like it wouldn't end up awkward." - you

"you really wanted me to be your first kiss?" - joe

"yeah." - you

"i had bleached hair and you still wanted me to be your first kiss??" - joe

"i thought it was cute" - you laughed

"you did?" - joe

"mhm" - you

"well since you told me that. i'll tell you something. when you started cheering junior year, you don't know how bad i struggled on the field. i couldn't take my eyes off of you, you were so beautiful." - joe

"really?! even with how bad my acne was??" - you

"acne didn't bother me. couldn't have cared less actually." - joe

"you really thought that?" - you

"yes, y/n." - joe

"wow. i didn't know you felt that way." - you

"i didn't know you felt the same way either. could you imagine if one of us like confessed?" - joe

"what if we dated?" - you

"we'd make a good couple- or we would've." - joe

"guess we'll never know huh?" - you

"guess not" - joe

*time skip*

we arrived to the bengals facility and joe being the gentleman he is, opened my door and helped me out of the car.

"i don't exactly like stuff like this.. so whenever you wanna leave we can." - joe

"sounds good." - you

"i'll introduce you to the guys' girl's so that you can talk to someone. i promise i won't leave you by yourself though." - joe

"thanks. and that's sweet but i don't want you to worry about me, you can leave me alone for a little bit." - you

"i don't want to though. i asked you to be my date so its only respectful if i stay with you." - joe

"i appreciate it." - you smiled, you weren't used to guys treating you so well.

"how do we get in?" - you

"my keycard" - joe put his card up to the door and opened it for you

as soon as we walked in there was immediately a lot of people dressed up standing in the lobby and socializing.

"burrow!!" - ja'marr

joe looked around for the source of the voice calling his name and when he saw ja'marr across the room he grabbed my hand and walked over to him.

"i was staring to think you weren't going to show!" - ja'marr

"had to. i rsvp'd months ago unfortunately."

- joe

ja'marr laughed before his eyes shifted to me and grew wide in shock. then his wide eyed gaze went to joes hand holding mine, then to joe.

"wha- woah." - ja'marr

"you remember y/n right?" - joe dropped your hand and motioned to you

"of course man, she went with you everywhere at lsu so kinda hard to forget her. but uhm.. what's goin on here??" - ja'marr

"nothing. i didn't have a date so i asked her to go with me instead of going alone." - joe shrugged

"mhm." - ja'marr gave a knowing smile between joe and i

"i give it 2 weeks." - sam walked up to ja'marr and motioned to us

"i say 3" - ja'marr

"wanna bet?" - sam

"guys stop." - joe rolled his eyes

"okay okay i'm done. hey y/n, jess and gracie are already in the cafeteria helping some of the other wags with setting up." - sam

"okay thanks!" - you

"i'll show you where it is" - joe took your hand and began walking through the sea of people

"they're for sure gonna get together." - ja'marr told sam once you two were away

"he's liked her since ohio state. i think he's finally gonna make a move." - sam

"i'm happy for him, you can tell she cares about him a lot." - ja'marr

"well yeah, they've been best friends since birth. i say they go all the way and get married." - sam

"oh no doubt, they are endgame" - ja'marr

joe was leading me down this long hallway, he knew exactly where he was going so i stuck by him.

"oh is that the locker room??" - you pointed towards a door clearly labeled *player's locker room*

"yeah, before we leave later tonight i'll show you around the stadium. i'll show you my locker if you promise to not bug me about cleaning it."

- joe

"no promises, joey" - you

joe laughed before walking through double doors, into a room i quickly realized was the cafeteria.

"y/n!!" - jess

"hey girl!" - you

jess smiled at me and then gave me a pointed look when she saw joe was beside me.

"you can go hang with your teammates now."

- you turned and smiled up at joe

"you sure?" - joe

"yup, i'm okay to be left." - you

"okay, just text me if you need me okay?" - joe

"i will." - you

joe nodded before he left, i watched him walk away and then turned to jess with a smile on my face.

"okay so what's going on?!?!" - jess

i shrugged and looked around to realize there was at least 20 women staring at me, i didn't realize they were all there.

jess noticed my discomfort and motioned for me to follow her as she went into this back room, it had a couple vending machines and was empty people wise.

"spill." - jess

"nothings going on." - you

"you're his date! something has to be going on!"

- jess

"i'm only his date because he didn't have one.. that's all." - you

"why didn't you come with tee? choose joe over him?" - jess

"not exactly.. at our date, tee asked if i had ever had feelings for joe-" - you

"see! it's obvious to everyone but you." - jess

"hold that thought" - you

"oh my god, go on." - jess

"after my date with tee he told me we'd be better off as friends. which i agree with, and then he told me that there was something i wasn't noticing.. and then he said that i still liked joe."

- you

"oh my! do you?!" - jess gasped

"uhm.. yeah." - you

"i knew it!" - jess

"what'd i miss?! why are we yelling??" - gracie

"oh god could you hear us all the way from the main room?" - you

"no you're good, i didn't see you guys so i guess you went back here to spill some tea. but what is it?!" - gracie

"y/n is joes date." - jess

"oh my gosh! i was wondering why you were here. that's so exciting! is there finally something going on between you two?" - gracie

"no, but-" - you

"she likes joe!" - jess

"you do?! oh my gosh! you guys need to get together asap." - gracie

"i don't know how to tell him, we've been friends our whole lives i'm worried that he doesn't feel the same way and our whole friendship is down the drain." - you

"oh girl don't start that. it's so obvious he likes you back. why else would he ask you to be his date to a team dinner?" - gracie

"because he didn't have a date." - you

"stop being difficult! if you need help with confessing we can help. but, we should probably get back to setting up." - gracie

we all agreed and eventually went back to the cafeteria, i had talked to a couple of the other girls as i helped. they were all nice but surprisingly they already knew who i was. one of the girls, holly, even referring to her boyfriend joe bachie as her joe to not add confusion.

after a few more of the girls had told me they already knew who i was, i had to ask how.

"joe of course. our boys tell us all the time about how joe would ramble on about this girl named y/n. a couple of us found your instagram to put a face to a name, but it is really nice to finally meet you. you seem to make qb1 really happy, even if you guys aren't together. which i can really see that changing in the future because you guys would be an adorable couple." - morgan, logan wilson's girlfriend explained.

so there it was, did joe really talk about me that much?!

*time skip*

once everything was set up the players and the rest of the plus ones came filing in.

i didn't know where joe was gonna sit, or if he wanted me to even sit with him, so i was going to wait to see where he'd sit down to approach him.

jess, gracie, and i stood off to the side and were talking when i felt a large hand on my lower back.

"hey" - joe smiled

"hey, joe" - you returned the smile

"you wanna sit down? i'll get you your food if you want to just pick a spot for us to sit." - joe

"okay yeah, i'm not that hungry though." - you

"what have you eaten today?" - joe

"i had a breakfast burrito this morning-" - you

"i'll go get your food. go find a spot." - joe stated before he walked away and towards the long table with food put out

"he made sure you ate" - jess awed

"he's sweet isn't he?" - you smiled

"let's go get that table." - gracie pointed to an open table

after we all sat down, leaving empty seats next to us for the guys, they joined us shortly after.

sam and joe talked about old stories from ohio state, including the adventures of our old friend group. it consisted of sam, nick bosa, joe, and of course i tagged along with joe.

we were knee deep in a story of how it took all four of us to kill this mouse that had gotten into the boys dorm when joe looked over at me and chuckled slightly.

"what? oh my god, is there something on my face?!" - you

"yeah here, lemme help you." - joe

he put one of his arms behind my shoulders on my chair before he grabbed his napkin and leaned closer to me, wiping the food off the corner of my mouth.

"there you go." - joe grinned

"thanks." - you awkwardly thanked him, trying to keep your cheeks from heating up because of the flirty moment

a few moments had passed and joe was still studying my face.

"everything okay?" - you

"have i told you that you look beautiful tonight yet?" - joe

"yeah" - you smiled softly

"good." - joe turned away and focused back on sam, leaving butterflies in your stomach

_________________________________

authors note: was writing so consistently and now i'm in a slump 😭

it's okay though i'm excited to write the next couple chapters because they are 🤭

[irish-urn]

tagged: @2mad4plaid tagging: @venturismcdonald, @ironduke10, @cacophonous-noise

number of stories posted to ao3 for 2024: 7. I'm so disappointed in myself.

word counted posted for last year: 109,586, which is pretty decent... But I was hoping for 200k. Alas.

fandoms i wrote for: Teen Titans and Life with Derek

pairings: RobStar and Dasey. Also I think we could call McTuri Mercenaries gen-ish...

stories with the most

KUDOS: To Have and To Hold (122) BOOKMARKS: To Have and To Hold (52) COMMENT THREADS: To Have and To Hold (45)

work i’m most proud of (and why): "What a Good Boy, What a Smart Boy". I called it the 'therapy fic' while I was working on it, and it's almost 30k of Derek hurt/comfort. I spent a lot of time in my blorbo's mind and POV and I really think I did a good job showing his growth.

share or describe a favorite review you received: I actually am super lucky and get lovely reviews a lot???? BUT, there was one from "There Must be 50 Ways to Become Consort" where someone told me they usually didn't like established relationships because they found them boring, but they really loved how I wrote this couple and played with it, so that was VERY flattering.

a time when writing was really, really hard: I actually struggled a LOT this year with writing. Especially this summer -- work was a pain and very stressful and I was just too exhausted to write. I've tried a couple different ways to encourage myself to write consistently, but I still haven't figured it out. Alas.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: There's a small scene in To Have and To Hold where Casey calls Derek "baby" out of nowhere, and I was NOT expecting it. Neither was Derek. Neither was Casey. But we went with it.

a favorite excerpt of your writing: From "What a Good Boy, What a Smart Boy"

“Uh, because she was a prissy little brat who was trying to take over my territory?” Duh. Wasn’t it obvious? “She just, like, barged into my life and tried to take over my space. As if it wasn’t my house and my school and my life.” Mae raised her eyebrows. “Truly, how unforgivable.” “And,” Derek stressed, leaning forward a little. “She was fucking cute about it all too! And, like, hot sometimes. She took dance classes — she would exercise in the backyard sometimes and get all snippy if you interrupted her like her stupid music wasn’t making my ears bleed. And she liked my best friend, and then the captain of the football team — she had no loyalty. Zero. And she kept, like, demanding equal treatment and wanted to make schedules for everything, and she’d just storm into my room and scold me for living my life, and then would give me those goddamn eyes whenever I did something nice.” He rolled his eyes and dropped his head against the back of the couch again. “It was exhausting.” There was nearly a minute of silence and then: “You’re the kind of person that feels things very strongly, aren’t you?” He raised a finger into the air, but closed his eyes, because he really was very tired. “She’s still a pain, let me be clear.”

how did you grow as a writer last year: Did I???? I don't think I did???? I mean, I'm probably 100k worth of words better than I was last year, but... Eh????

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @2mad4plaid and @rubberchknpurseee. The former was a truly EXCELLENT sounding board for the vast majority of my fics and always willing to listen; and the latter was a truly excellent prompter. Literally half of the words I wrote this year were fics for her.

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: ...I don't think so? Except maybe that my friend was suffering from migraines, so I gave Derek a migraine in one fic...

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: If you can, find a friend who is really excited about your writing. They don't have to know the fandom or the characters, but find someone that you can talk to about your projects. Not only will they help you figure out plot holes and outlines, but they will encourage you and help you reach the finish line. It's so easy to say "Well, I know how this ends, so why bother writing it?"; but if you have ONE person who wants to read it... Then you have one person to write it for.

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: NOTHING IN 2024. I GIVE UP. But in 2025, I wanna finish my two LWL series, my Teen Titans story, and two other LWD fics -- a sequel to one of my other monsters, and hopefully an AU. If I could manage that? I'd be satisfied (especially since I'm pretty sure that's gonna be a LOT of words...)