#i just hope he KNOWS it’s ok for him not to diet and do intensive workouts

[electric-friend]

WANT CON TO STOP TALKING ABOUT NOT EATING CAKE IT’S ACTUALLY MAKING ME SO SAD

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 6)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 6,417

It has been a minute since I uploaded, but I made it up to yall by making this chapter a LOT longer. Enjoy!

"You don't know what you're talking about," I finished as I bit into my banana. Charlie rolled his eyes for the fifth time this morning, taking a bit of his breakfast sandwich and throwing the rest in the garbage.

"I swear your love life needs some proper tending to or it is just going to end up nonexistent,"

"How can you throw that away, I could have finished it for you," I protested, looking at banana resentfully. Mother only gives me fruits for breakfast or protein bars since she thinks having carbs first thing in the morning is terrible for the diet.

Charlie shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement "The sandwich was terrible, you wouldn't like it," which I knew was a lie.

"Ok enough about me, what about you! How are you and that guy you were talking with I completely forgot his name," Charlie face fell, quickly regretting on even asking.

Charlie scratched his head, a sheepish grin appearing on his face. "Um, actually, I decided to break things off."

I blinked, surprised by his response. "You did? Why?"

Charlie sighed; his expression somber. "It's just… things weren't working out between us. We wanted different things, and it was causing too much strain on the relationship. If there was even a relationship"

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, genuinely feeling for him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, though his smile was wistful. "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's for the best, really."

I reached out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you need anything, I'm here for you, Charlie."

"Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice appreciative. "I appreciate that." I knew something was up, he had that look on his face far too long, I can tell it's starting to eat him up badly.

As we walked towards the school gates, I noticed a gathering of the rugby team, and my heart sank as I recognized Nick among them. And standing right beside him was Imogen.

"Just when you think things couldn't get any worse," I muttered under my breath.

Charlie's expression darkened as he caught sight of them too. "Of all the days..."

I could feel Charlie's stare intensely at the side of my skull, his concern palpable. It was clear that seeing Nick and Imogen was the last thing I needed on top of everything else.

"Do you want to, you know, avoid them?" Charlie asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

I let out a resigned sigh. "I wish we could, but unfortunately I have practice with him after school." We haven't talked ever since that night, he hasn't messaged me, and I haven't messaged him. It seems that everything has been put on pause I swear this boy is just giving me a straight whiplash to Tara Jones and now Imogen.

"You can probably ditch," Charlie suggested, offering a glimmer of hope. "I'm sure Coach Singh won't mind, plus I can probably cover for you."

The thought of skipping practice tempted me, but then I remembered the inevitable consequence: being bombarded by my mother's relentless fitness regimen. She had been devouring articles on quick weight loss methods before spring started, and I wasn't ready to endure another lecture about healthy living.

I shook my head firmly. "Nope, I will definitely be at practice. I'll just head to the library and study while I wait for them to finish, then clean the locker room." he nodded in understanding.

"Thanks, Charlie," I said sincerely, feeling grateful for his support. But as I glanced over at Nick, I noticed him saying something to Imogen, causing her cheeks to flush with a bright smile. My mouth turned sour, and I quickly grabbed Charlie's arm, leading him through the gates.

"Let's go before we miss out on breakfast from the cafeteria," I urged, my tone a little more urgent than intended.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But we just ate?"

I swallowed hard, my stomach tying into knots. "I'm still hungry,"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

Anywhere else in the world would be better than this classroom right now. I sink into my seat, doing everything I can to avoid looking at the one person I wish I could avoid the most.

I should have just skipped school entirely

"Hi,"

I glanced up reluctantly, meeting Nick's gaze. His smile was warm, but it only intensified the knot in my stomach.

"Hi," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

His brow furrowed slightly, sensing my unease. "Is everything okay?"

I forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just not feeling great today."

There was a moment of hesitation in his expression before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Do you want to go to Harry's party... with me?"

My heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation. I blinked, caught off guard "I don't think it's my type of thing and if it's for Harry definitely count me out," The guy was just a straight up asshole, there is nothing that can make me like that man, especially with the awful things he says.

"Please come. I want you to be there," he looked at me hopefully, and I couldn't ignore the sincerity in his eyes. It almost hurt to see him like this, his vulnerability making me soften.

"Okay," I smiled sheepishly, feeling a little guilty for giving in so easily. I could practically feel Charlie's eyes boring into the side of my head, likely already knowing that I was about to agree.

---

"I can't believe you did that," Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, you have the willpower of a peanut."

I chuckled nervously, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. "Yeah, well… he practically begged me. There's no way I could have said no."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look on his face. "Begged you, huh? Sounds like quite the convincing argument."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Well, you know Nick. He can be quite persuasive when he wants to be."

Charlie sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I swear, you're like putty in his hands."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I'm sure it'll be fine. Especially since you're coming with me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Wait, what? I didn't agree to that."

I grinned, nudging him playfully. "Come on, Charlie. You can't let me face this party alone. Besides, it'll be more bearable with you there."

He sighed dramatically but smiled back. "Fine, I'll go. But only because I don't trust you to stay out of trouble on your own."

"Deal," I said, feeling a bit more confident about the party with Charlie by my side.

----------

The afternoon sun was beginning to set as Charlie and I rummaged through my closet, looking for something decent to wear to Harry’s party. My room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere as we tried to find the perfect outfit.

Charlie held up a shirt, scrutinizing it before tossing it aside. “This one’s too plain. You need something that stands out.”

I groaned, flopping down on my bed. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this. Harry’s parties are always so... Harry.”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “Agree, but you’re doing this for Nick, remember? And besides, it’ll be good to get out and have some fun.”

I shot him a skeptical look. “You think hanging out with Harry and his crowd is fun?”

He thought for a moment, pulling out a vibrant top from the pile. "Absolutely not but we must preserve. But at least you won’t be alone. We’ll stick together.”"

I took the top from him, eyeing it critically. “Alright, I guess this could work. What about you? What are you wearing?”

He smirked, holding up a simple yet stylish outfit. “Already got it covered. Unlike you, I came prepared.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Show-off.”

Charlie threw a pillow at me, laughing. “Hey, someone’s got to keep us looking decent.”

As I changed into the outfit he picked, Charlie sat on the edge of my bed, giving me a thumbs-up when I emerged from behind the closet door. “See? You look great. Nothing to worry about”

Just then, Charlie's phone buzzed, and I noticed his smile falter as he looked at the screen.

"Shit!" he muttered under his breath.

I turned to him, concerned. "What’s wrong?"

"Tao and Elle just texted me about film night tonight! I completely forgot," typing furiously on his phone.

Trying to lighten the mood, I suggested, "Hey, why don't we invite Tao and Elle? Nick definitely won't mind."

Charlie shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Tao would rather be caught dead than step foot into one of Harry's parties."

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. But it’d be nice to have them around."

Charlie sighed, glancing at his phone again. "It's fine. Elle's going over there, and Isaac called in sick. He'll be okay," he said, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

I could already tell I was at the very top of Tao's shit list, and it wasn’t about to get any better.

We were halfway out the door when my mom's voice rang out, stopping us in our tracks.

"Do you kids need a ride?" she asked, looking up from her magazine with a hint of concern in her eyes.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. "No, thanks. Charlie's dad already offered to give us a lift."

"Alright then," she said, her gaze sweeping over my outfit. I can feel the eyes pouring at every single detail of what I was wearing, I knew she wouldn't say anything infront Charlie, she wouldn't do that to me "But honey, make sure to suck in your stomach. It looks a little chubby."

I was wrong

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I forced a smile. "Got it, Mom."

Charlie gave me a sympathetic glance, his eyes full of understanding. "Ready?" he asked, trying to shift the mood.

"Yea," I replied, taking a deep breath, rushing out the door. "Let's get out of here."

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my face, and I felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Charlie nudged me playfully.

"Don't let it get to you," he said with a grin. "You look great."

I smiled, grateful for his support. "Lets have some fun."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Pick up at 10, okay?" Mr. Spring said, glancing back at us in the rearview mirror.

I nodded absentmindedly, my attention drawn to the enormous house outside. The place was massive had Harry really rented out an entire hotel? Just how rich was he?

Charlie’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Can't it be 11?" he pleaded, looking at his dad hopefully.

"No, 10 is late enough," Mr. Spring replied firmly.

Charlie sighed, looking defeated as he got out of the car. "Fine," he muttered.

I quickly followed suit, turning back to say goodbye to Mr. Spring. "Thanks for the ride!"

"Have fun, you two!" he called after us as we stepped into the cool evening.

The smell of cheap perfume and artificial vape flavors filled my nose. There was a long line of people, and everywhere I looked, girls were squeezed into tight dresses, their faces caked with makeup. I started to wonder if we were at the right party. Thank God Charlie helped me pick out my outfit, or I would have stood out like a sore thumb.

Charlie nudged me with a grin. "I could have used your help back there, you know?"

I shot him a flabbergasted look. "You're crazy if you think I was going to argue with your dad."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But you owe me one."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get inside before I change my mind."

We joined the line, inching our way forward as the music thumped louder with every step. The hotel loomed above us, lights flashing from every window, just from taking a peek inside I can definitely tell that Harry went all out.

We stepped inside, the noise and lights hitting us full force. People were everywhere, dancing, laughing, and shouting to be heard over the music. I didn't know which way to look; it was so crowded. Charlie grabbed the hem of my top so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd. My palms were starting to sweat.

The sheer volume of people and the pulsing music made my head spin. Charlie leaned close to my ear, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Let'd find somewhere quiet I can barely hear myself think."

I nodded, my heart pounding feeling the bass within my body. We pushed through the throng of people, dodging couples and groups of friends. Every corner seemed to hold a new spectacle: a group of girls taking selfies, a guy attempting an impressive but ultimately disastrous dance move. The flashing lights made my head feel fuzzy.

I was already overstimluted and I haven't been here for five minutes. "Do you want to get a drink?"

He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. I swear, did Harry invite the whole city?" Charlie looked frazzled; it seemed he wasn't doing any better than me.

We walked down a quieter hallway, only a few people milling about. "You stay here; I'll go get the drinks," Charlie said, glancing back at me with a smile.

I nodded gratefully, leaning against the wall to catch my breath, trying to ignore the overpowering smell of smoke and alcohol that filled my nose. Charlie disappeared into the crowd, and I took a moment to collect myself, looking at myself in the mirror. My curls seemed to be frizzing up from the humidity, and I quickly ran my fingers through them, trying to tame the wild strands.

Nearby, a table was filled with enough snacks and drinks to feed an army. I made my way over, deciding a quick bite might help settle my nerves. Mother would actually kill me if she saw me eating this stuff.

I grabbed a handful of chips and popped them into my mouth, the salty crunch grounding me a bit. I picked up a cup of the red liquid and took a gulp, but quickly grimaced at the terrible aftertaste.

Looking around the room, trying not to get knocked down by stumbling people who had clearly had enough to drink, I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. I could feel the heat rising in my face as I realized it was Nick.

Spotting me instantly, a look of relief filled his face. He started making his way through the crowd. "I have been looking for you!" we said in unison.

Even in the chaos of the party, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his smile lit up his eyes, making my heart skip a beat. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. No matter how overwhelming things got, just seeing him made everything easier.

Nick and I exchanged a warm smile, “How about we go grab a drink?” he suggested, his voice soft but somehow cutting through the noise.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agreed, feeling a little more at ease with him by my side.

We made our way through the crowded room, and every time someone bumped into me, Nick would gently place his hand on my back, guiding me forward. It was such a small gesture, but I couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation it left behind.

Finally, we reached the drinks table, a mix of colorful concoctions laid out before us. Nick picked up a couple of cups, handing one to me with a playful grin. “I think this one’s safe,” he said, making me think back to that horrid red liquid from earlier.

I laughed, taking the cup from him. “Let’s hope so. I had one earlier, and I swear I thought it was roofied.”

He immediately looked concerned. "Sorry about that. I forgot how some of Harry's parties can get kind of crazy. I was even debating whether to come," he admitted, staring down at the red cup like it was the bane of his existence.

"It's alright, really," I reassured him. "It’s good to hang out with your friends."

Nick shrugged, a small, honest smile tugging at his lips. "Ehh, they're not my 'friends friends.' It's a lot more fun hanging out with you."

I tried not to let my surprise show, but his words caught me off guard. The idea that he’d rather spend time with me than his usual Rugby buddies made my heart flutter. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though I could feel my face warming.

“Yeah, really,” he said, meeting my eyes with a sincerity that made my chest tighten. “I always have more fun when you’re around. Those guys are great, but they’re not...” he was trying to find the words

“Fun?” I offered with a teasing smile.

Nick’s eyes trailed off, lingering on mine for a moment longer before he nodded slowly. “Well, there’s never really a dull moment with you,” he said with a mischievous grin, “so I tend to keep you close. You know, just in case things get too boring I need someone to liven things up.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “So, I’m your emergency backup for fun?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “In case this party sucks, I know who just to call .��

I playfully nudged him. “And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

“I do,” he said, leaning in slightly with a playful grin. “I just need someone to keep me entertained”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, I’m flattered to be your go-to for fun. I have to say, your backup plan is working pretty well tonight.”

Nick grinned, shaking his head. “I’m just glad that your here, I swear I barely know anyone here"

Trying to play it cool, even though I was secretly thrilled that Nick was happy to see me, we made our way to a quieter corner of the party. We found a spot away from everything, where we could actually sit and talk without having to shout over the music.

"You know," Nick started with a grin, "I’ve been forcing my mum to play Mario Kart ever since you absolutely destroyed me at that game. Thought I might finally get a win somewhere."

I burst out laughing, nearly spilling my drink. "You’re practicing with your mom? That’s dedication! Even for you?"

"I'm being serious," Nick replied, his tone earnest. "I’ve never seen anyone play that good. You completely embrassed me"

I grinned, feeling a bit of pride. "Well, I’m glad I could leave such an impression. Guess all those hours of practice paid off."

Nick shook his head, still looking amazed. "You don’t understand. I’ve never been so thoroughly beaten at anything in my life. It was like you had cheat codes or something."

"Just pure skill," I teased, giving him a playful nudge. "Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to win," I teased, then quickly realized it sounded more flirtatious than I intended.

"I—"

Before he could finish, someone called out, “Nick!” From the number of times I’d heard that voice at practice, I could almost smell the narcissism dripping from it. Nick’s expression shifted to mild annoyance as he glanced over his shoulder.

“All right, mate,” Nick said, eyeing Harry up and down with a look of uneasy tolerance. Despite the size of the place, it seemed Harry’s presence was as unavoidable as ever.

“Why are you hanging out here? Bit boring, innit?” Harry asked, his gaze directly fixed on me. The group behind him exchanged knowing glances, their eyes lingering on me with an air of smugness. I shot him a withering glare, not liking where this was going.

Nick shot me a worried look, trying to diffuse the tension. “We just are”

Harry smirked, flopping down on the couch next to Nick and draping an arm around him as if marking his territory. “I’ve got important news for you,” he announced with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Yeah, what?” Nick asked, clearly uninterested but trying to play along.

"Tara Jones is here" he annoucned gaining the ooos from the boys. My breath hitched, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I knew coming here might have been a mistake.

Nick’s expression turned to confusion. “So, what?”

Harry looked around as if he couldn’t believe on what he was hearing. “This is your big second chance, mate. Let’s make it happen,” he said with a chuckle, Harry looking over at me "They kissed when they were thirteen. Proper romantic" egging on crowd. He says it like I have been dying to know but all I want to do right now is disapear.

“He should go for it, right?” Harry asked, his words dripping with smugness as he pretended to care about my opinion. I could see the tension building in Nick, his discomfort almost palpable. My own irritation was rising fast, and I was seconds away from telling Harry to back off, because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing Nick put on the spot like this.

"Come on, mate," Harry urged, tugging at Nick's arm to pull him up from the couch.

"Harry—" Nick started, his voice laced with protest.

"Come on. She’s just down the corridor,” Harry insisted, ignoring Nick’s reluctance.

Nick hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "I haven't talked to her in years."

"So? She's super hot, man," Harry insisted, not letting up.

Nick barely had time to respond before Harry turned toward the crowd, calling out, "All right, ladies!" His voice carried through the room, gathering curious glances.

My stomach twisted as Harry’s words sliced through the noise, “Hey, Tara! I've got someone who wants to see you!” I glanced over, and there she was stunning in a way that made it hard to look away. My chest tightened as her eyes locked onto Nick, her smile effortlessly brightening the room. I could feel my heart sinking, a wave of insecurity washing over me. Tara wasn’t just beautiful; she was the kind of beautiful that made me question what I was even doing here.

The music drowned out their voices, but I could still see the way Tara’s eyes lit up as Nick talked to her. A tight knot formed in my chest as I watched, feeling like an outsider in a scene I didn’t belong in.

I’m so pathetic, I thought, standing here, just watching.

I slipped away, disappearing down the corridor, hoping to lose myself in the crowd and escape the sinking feeling in my gut. As I tried to shake off the unease, someone stepped in front of me.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where Charlie Spring is, would you?”

I glanced up, recognizing the boy but struggling to place his name. “No, actually, I’ve been looking for him too,” I admitted. After a beat, I added, “And you’re…?”

He smiled, looking a bit bashful. “Ben. We met a while back when you were trying to find the film club.”

It clicked, and I nodded, a small smile creeping onto my face. “Oh, right! I remember now. I can’t believe you still remember me,” I said, laughing a bit, though I couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered.

He chuckled softly, “You’re pretty hard to forget…” There was something in his tone that made the words linger, and I found myself blushing slightly.

A warm flush spread up my neck, I honestly had no idea how to respond to that, so I just offered a shy smile. My mind racing for something to say.

Ben’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, what are you doing hiding out back here? The party too wild for you?”

I shrugged, glancing back toward the crowd where Nick was still talking to Tara. “Yeah, something like that,” I mumbled. “Just needed a break from all the noise.”

Ben followed my gaze, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Ah, I see. Sometimes these things can be a bit... much.”

I appreciated his attempt to empathize, even if he didn’t know the half of it. “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”

Ben seemed to sense my discomfort and shifted the conversation. “Well, if you ever need to disappear for a while, you can always come hang out with me. I’m more of a ‘quiet corner’ kind of guy myself.”

I smiled at that, feeling a little less alone. “Thanks, Ben. I might just take you up on that.”

Catching something in the corner of his eye, he gives me a fleeting smile and then quietly excuses himself. “I’ll catch you later,” he says, before slipping away, leaving me by myself…again.

Finding a lone couch off to the side, I flopped down onto it, feeling like I might as well get a goddamn trophy for being the lamest person in the room. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through notifications that didn’t interest me, my eyes glazing over texts from friends from back home and ignoring the persistent messages from my mother. Only an hour left before Charlie's dad picks us up. Time seemed to crawl, each minute stretching into an eternity.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, trying to disappear into the background.

"Hi," a familiar voice cut through the noise. I looked up to see Nick standing in front of me, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets. He offered a small, hesitant smile, as if unsure of whether he was welcome.

“Hey,” I replied, sitting up a bit straighter, surprised he’d sought me out again.

"You left."

"Sorry, I was just... starting to feel out of place. The guys can be somewhat intimidating," I admitted, my voice trailing off as I glanced at the crowd. It was a bit of the truth, but it didn’t fully capture how overwhelmed I felt.. Not like I am going to tell him that I have a crush on him, that would certainly make matter worse.

He shook his head, a subtle furrow creasing his brow. "Don’t be sorry," he said firmly, his tone edged with genuine concern. "Half of them are just... dickheads. I’m tired of being around them. I'd much rather hang out with you." His words were sincere, his gaze steady.

This was the second time I heard him say that, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. But as the reality of his words sank in, a flicker of fear ran through me this was real, and that scared me.

I turned my gaze, my smile slipping as my heart raced. What if I was misreading this? What if he was just being nice? My thoughts tangled, and the crowd seemed to close in on me, the noise growing louder and more intense.

Just as I felt myself sinking, Nick reached out and took my hand. The warmth of his touch was immediate, grounding me in the present. His thumb gently brushed against the back of my hand, and I looked up to find his eyes still on me.

"Shall we go somewhere quieter?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm, offering me an escape.

I hesitated for a moment, my mind still reeling, but the gentle pressure of his hand, the way his fingers intertwined with mine, made the decision for me. I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I let him lead the way.

As we moved away from the noise, the tension in my chest began to ease. Nick glanced back at me with a playful smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You want to race?" he teased, the challenge evident in his voice.

I couldn’t help but grin back at him. "You want to race me?" I repeated, already taking a quick step forward to get a head start, my laughter bubbling up as I broke into a run.

"Come on!" I called out over my shoulder, the thrill of the chase energizing my every step.

"Wait, stop!" he shouted, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement as he sprinted after me, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

"Unfair, you got a head start," he called out, his mock outrage only making me laugh harder.

"I'm dying!" Nick shouted, his voice breathless yet filled with laughter. I couldn’t believe it the star of the rugby team, gasping and trailing behind me in a race. The thought sent another burst of giggles through me as I glanced back to see him trying to catch up, his grin just as wide as mine.

"Am I hearing an old man complaining?" I teased, slowing down just a bit, but not enough to let him close the gap completely. The sight of Nick, usually so composed and confident, now playfully struggling to keep up, was a rare and delightful reversal that made me wish that we could run just a little while longer.

As we finally reached the top of the stairs, our breath still catching, pushing open the doors

We stepped inside, and I felt my breath catch again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

The grand ballroom before us was stunning. The ceiling reached up high, covered with detailed paintings, their colors bright even in the soft light of the chandeliers that looked like stars. The walls were lined with tall mirrors in fancy frames, reflecting the golden light and making the room feel even bigger.

Nick let out a low whistle, clearly as awestruck as I was. "Wow," he breathed, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

Nick shaking his head in disbelief. "Jesus, I knew Harry was rich, but this hotel must have cost him a fuck ton of money," he muttered, his tone a mix of awe and amusement.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the grand room. "No kidding," I replied, glancing around at the opulence surrounding us. "I feel like this place matches his ego big and obnoxious."

Nick snorted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, it’s like he’s trying to outdo himself every time. Next thing you know, he’ll be renting out the Eiffel Tower"

I grinned, imagining the absurdity of it. I found a spot against the wall and sank down, admiring the shimmering lights and grandeur of the room. Nick settled beside me, his gaze following mine, but my thoughts were stuck on that moment from earlier. The way he looked at me, the way he said he’d rather hang out with me I couldn’t shake it. It felt like I was becoming delusional, this constant flutter of hope mixed with doubt. I just needed to know, one way or another, so I could either put this silly crush to rest.

"So..." I started, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremor in my voice betrayed me. "Was Harry being serious? Do you like Tara?"

The words felt heavy as they left my mouth, like they were dragging something deeper out into the open. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear the answer, but I had to ask.

Nick's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. "What? No! No, definitely not," he blurted out, his voice rising in pitch with each word. The intensity of his reaction caught me off guard, making me question why I’d ever worried in the first place.

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air, thick and heavy. I fidgeted with my hands, suddenly hyper-aware of the tension between us.

"Uh… So… you don't have a crush on anyone at the moment?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I forced myself to meet his gaze, hoping to find some clue in his expression.

He looked away from my gaze, his eyes shifting to the glimmering chandeliers above us. "Well, I didn't say that," he murmured, a hint of something unspoken lingering in his voice.

"Oh," I managed to say, though the disappointment in my voice was unmistakable. It felt as if the air had thickened, the silence resuming its heavy presence as if it had never left. The excitement and playfulness from earlier faded, leaving behind a quietness that neither of us seemed to know how to break.

I broke the quiet first, curiosity tinged with a hint of nervousness. “So, what’s she like, then?”

Nick’s eyes flickered up to meet mine, a trace of uncertainty shadowing his face. “You’re just going to assume they’re a ‘she’?”

“Oh,” I said, my voice softening with realization. “Are they… are they not a girl?”

He hesitated, his gaze drifting to the elegant patterns on the floor. “Um…”

I leaned in slightly, trying to read his expression. “Would you go out with someone who wasn’t a girl?”

Nick’s lips twisted into a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

I pressed on gently, my heart pounding. “Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”

He met my eyes again, his expression a mix of confusion and vulnerability. “I think… I think I might. But I’m not entirely sure yet.”

I nodded in understanding, my mind processing Nick's words. I was genuinely touched that he trusted me enough to share this, but the relief I expected didn’t quite come. Instead, a mix of embrassement and lingering dread churned inside me. The fear of complicating things or making him uncomfortable gnawed at me, my feelings for him never leaving.

“But I wouldn’t mind going out with a girl,” he said, his voice steady but revealing a hint of uncertainty. My head snapped up, meeting his eyes.

He continued, “I wouldn’t mind kissing a girl either.” His eyes searched mine, looking for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say. I turned to him, the question on the tip of my tongue, but the words wouldn’t come out.

His hand was so close to mine, just an inch apart; I could practically feel his warmth. The proximity made it hard to think straight, each moment stretching longer as I struggled to keep my composure. Our fingers were touching, and neither of us pulled away.

Nick glanced down at our intertwined fingers, his gaze lingering on them. He swallowed hard, his nervousness palpable. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and finally asked,

“Would you kiss me?”

Nick leaned in closer, tightening his hold on my hand. His voice was soft but steady. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine.

The distance between us shrinking until it was almost nothing. His lips hovered near mine, and I could feel his breath, warm and soft, tickling my skin. My heart raced, a wild, fluttery feeling in my chest as I waited, anticipation buzzing in the air around us.

His lips met mine in a sweet, delicate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through me. It was soft and tentative, like he was savoring every second. My senses where filled with his signature scent, the one that I have missed so much. The familiarity of it made my heart ache in the best way, and I found myself melting into the kiss, wanting to hold onto this moment forever.

Pulling away slowing we looked away from each other, I could hardly believe it Nick Nelson had just kissed me. I’d just had my first kiss… and I liked it.

Really liked it

I glanced over at him, my heart still racing, but he was already looking at me, his eyes soft and searching, as if he was trying to gauge my reaction. The realization that this moment was real, that it had actually happened, made my heart swell with something indescribable.

Without thinking, I reached out, my hand finding the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. I kissed him deeply, pouring everything I was feeling into that moment. He responded by pulling me in tighter, his arms wrapping around me as if he didn’t want to let go, the intensity of the kiss growing with every second. It was as if all the emotions we had been holding back finally found their release in that one, perfect moment.

I could hardly breathe when we finally pulled apart. Staring at him, I just couldn't look away.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"1..." he began to say, but was cut off by the sound of Harry's voice echoing down the hallway.

"Nick, are you here?" Harry called out, his voice drawing closer. Nick's body tensed instantly, the warmth between us replaced by a sudden rush of panic.

"I just want to talk, mate," Harry's voice came closer, more insistent.

Nick pulled away immediately, standing up with a look of sheer panic. He glanced anxiously at the door, his body flinching at each echo of footsteps in the hallway.

"Why are you hiding?!" Harry's voice called out, growing louder and more frustrated.

Nick's gaze was locked on the door, his anxiety clear. Without a word, he took a final, fleeting glance at me an expression of regret or maybe apology flitting across his face. Then, he bolted out, disappearing through the door just as Harry's footsteps grew closer.

The sudden silence that followed was deafening. I sat there, trying to process what had just happened. The kiss had been amazing, but now it felt like a distant, shattered dream.

I felt confused, the warmth of the kiss now gone. My mind was filled with unanswered questions and a sudden ache. It felt like the ground had moved under me, leaving me with just the memory of his touch.

As I tried to steady my breath, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I saw multiple messages from Charlie asking where I was and letting me know that his dad had arrived.

Banging my head gently against the wall, I couldn’t believe how quickly the night had gone from one of the most memorable to one of the worst.

Part 7 Link Here: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/763787688625192960/hearts-unleashed-part-7?source=share

[akindplace]

Hi, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to, or if you don't feel up to it, that's ok. But I'd like to hear the advice of someone who actually lives with a chronic illness. My brother, who I love deeply and care for daily, is really struggling. He's in a lot of pain and life is unendurable to him. He says he's too weak to go outside, or to do anything that could maybe bring him a little bit of joy. He's angry and isolates and doesn't want to live anymore. I don't know how to reach him or show him that I care, he says I will never understand what is like to live with a chronic illness and therefore nothing that I say is useful because it's ignorant and uninformed. I've been reading about what to say and what not to say to someone who's chronically ill and I do my best to avoid harmful phrases. But he's truly so so pessimistic and in a very very dark place. All his doctors said his current state and quality of life could improve but he needs to show up for appointments and follow the treatments, but he's tired of diets and medication not working and going through painful tests and procedures and not seeing results. He's given up, on himself, his health, life. He just stays in his room, angry and resentful, and wants to die. I don't know what to do. I feel so powerless. Do you know what's the best way to help someone in this situation? He also refuses to go to therapy, despite admitting he's depressed. Ok, thanks for reading. Hope you're having a nice day, thank you for your blog <3

You seem to be in a really, really tough spot, it’s hard to watch someone you love suffer without being able to change what’s causing their suffering. It seems he is coming from a place of a lot of pain, emotional pain caused by the physical pain. Pain can often make us bitter and say things that we don’t really mean, pain makes us feel so overwhelmed and sometimes we snap even when we don’t mean to. It is exhausting, and he probably is and that’s also making his mood even worse. Being sick all the time really sucks and makes us put a lot of pressure on, but it’s also awful to watch someone hurt. It’s hard because going to the doctors can feel like opening a wound that needs to be dressed but only given a bandaid, it involves exams, and doctors might often act like it’s really simple to make things better when it really isn’t. I wonder if making a deal of sorts with him would help, like saying that he doesn’t need to commit to more intensive treatments or intrusive exams if he doesn’t want to because they’re awful but start off with the smaller things that could help, like taking medication or taking him out for a short period of time so he can be out in the sun and enjoy himself a little, or watching a movie he likes or playing a game so he is reminded that life can be joyful even if he is sick. Or encouraging him to get treatment that if he doesn’t like doing a certain treatment that it’s fine if he doesn’t want to continue but he should try.

Often times it makes us really uncomfortable because a lot of energy goes into getting to a clinic, chatting with personal there, explaining to the doctor what is going on (and sometimes they just don’t listen), it puts people with illnesses in a really vulnerable position and it sucks cause you get home exhausted and you need to rest a lot to recover and then by the time you’re a little better it’s time to go out again to repeat. Often times starting out with medication that helps with the pain/symptoms is already a huge step. I know it’s hard to watch him in pain and feel like maybe you can’t make him get treatments but encouraging him to take it in really slow baby steps to get help instead of doing something big that might make him even more exhausted might help out a lot. Telling him you’re in his side, that you’re there for him, those words of support really, really help, because being sick just makes us feel so vulnerable, and often the eternal cycle of going to the doctors might make a person feel so small, so it’s always great to do things that take his mind away from his illness even if just for a second. Having a blog helps me with things like that, trying to take a short walk also helps, reading, watching a comedy movie. Sometimes it’s better to take a break from all the appointments instead of forcing it because if he pushes it might make his health worse and the treatments might not have good result if he forces himself too much. Often we do push ourselves a lot more than we should, as if we could make up for being sick.

I’m not 100% sure what I’m saying is helpful but sometimes encouraging him in a very gentle way to do the smallest thing that can improve his health like eating regularly and taking medication in the right hours and cheering him if he decides to get one of the treatments and supporting him if he decides it’s just not being worth it after trying can be really beneficial. And doing things that don’t remind him of his illness can really help with his depression, because frankly being sick all the time can be so devastating, so hobbies that are easy to do for someone with an illness can be really helpful, things that don’t involve a lot of effort so it won’t tire him more or make his symptoms worse.

Trying to be communicative also helps because it’s comforting to know someone is there for them, it can be really hard to ask for help, especially when someone is feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I think it’s great that you are working on that, on finding ways to speak to him, to understand his perspective and it’s wonderful that he has someone who cares for him and is willing to help. I hope what I said helps a little, I think you’re in a tough spot and it must be hard to want to help but not be able to completely take away his pain. I really, really hope things improve and that he feels a little better soon, and that you also remember to take care of yourself because you also need caring for, especially when you’re probably under a lot of stress trying to help him. I’m here. I hope things change for the better soon, and that you’ll both feel better. I’m cheering for you two. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[the-final-sif]

Why do you sympathise with Dream/ gen

I hope this doesn’t come across as rude, I’m just a little confused.

I mean he literally killed people to prove a point, basically tortured a kid and destroyed a lot of stuff. (As well as other things)

He is one of my favourite characters on the dsmp so I can guess why you like him, but specifically sympathising with him? I genuinely would like to know why!! If that’s ok!!

I'm honestly confused by this ask, but I'll address a few points just to ramble out my thoughts.

As a human being, I find it hard to see someone getting starved, tortured, abused, isolated, and put through some of the worst things a human being can endure, without feeling sympathy / compassion for them. As a hurt/comfort writer, I enjoy seeing these things in fiction, but I still see them as fundamentally wrong.

He did not "torture a kid", he was abusive/toxic towards c!Tommy who was 16-17 and ended up killing him after being locked in intensive isolation + starvation conditions with him for an extended period, and brought him back to life as proof he could.

Of people perma killed (maybe?) by c!Dream, it's really just Vik & Laser and frankly I think that's fair because they're fortnite players and it was very funny.

I'm literally not even going to engage with the idea that "destroyed a lot of stuff" is even remotely important. Talk to me when people stop burning down c!Ponk's poor lemon trees.

Again I would like to point to a nearly year long experience in which we saw c!Dream being ACTUALLY tortured daily, undergoing starvation, extreme isolation, being abused by c!Sam and c!Quackity, having no privacy or agency, etc. If you are unable to see how people would feel sympathy / compassion for someone in that situation, then I cannot help you.

Did c!Dream do some not great stuff? Oh yeah. He's a 20-22 year old whose got some fucked up world views, who didn't handle very stressful situations well, and who got fucked over in a lot of circumstances. He made very harmful choices. Lots of people on the SMP have done fucked up stuff, and literally none of them deserve to be locked up, abused and tortured for any length of time. No human being deserves that.

Besides that, I think the fact that c!Dream designed the prison for himself, speaks volumes about his character and worldview. He genuinely thought that he'd be okay in the circumstances he set up (even though he didn't even get that much). Knowing that he designed the prison for himself, retroactively sheds new light on stuff like Exile.

Like, even the default conditions of the prison as Dream intended them (small room surrounded by lava, isolation conditions with visits controlled by the Warden, minimal potato only diet, no exercise/bed, no comforts beyond books and visits to the courtyard) were objectively significantly worse then the conditions of Tommy's exile (not arguing that Exile wasn't bad, only that the conditions of the prison were worse). And Dream wholeheartedly believed that enduring those conditions was something he'd be fine with, and worth progress towards his goal. No wonder he had no moral issues with what he did during exile, look at what he considered acceptable to do to himself!

It speaks of an incredibly fucked up worldview, of just how much he believes the plan is worth. How much Dream is personally willing to sacrifice and drive himself to, in pursuit of something that is probably impossible. He's fundamentally an extremely tragic and human character, and I hope he gets worse. I hope his treatment reinforces his spiral and we see him lash out and hold tighter to his impossible, self-destructive ideals.

[piosplayhouse]

hii! i saw ur mdzs physique post and i just wanted to add that doing a specific sport or activity will not necessarily give you the body type that is usually associated with it. this is because, for example, basketball players are chosen for the sport because they are naturally tall, not because basketball makes you tall. football players have bodies naturally predisposed to being big and strong so they go into football. you see a lot of lean muscular people in swimming because that is the body type naturally associated with swimming. that isn’t to say that their bodies will be unaffected by swimming, football, etc, but that it cannot overwrite their natural body type or skeletal system, and those effects will show up differently on each persons body.

swimmers actually have bodies all across the board, and there are people who look like they’d sink like a rock and people who look like twigs; both can be amazing in the water. of course there are people who have the stereotypical build, but they likely had it beforehand, or had the genetics that would allow their bodies to look like that. not to mention, if someone is capable of having a swimmers body, it could take an incredibly long and intense time to get there. 12-20 hours a week of straight swimming, which despite being close to water, i doubt the jiang have time to do. supplemental exercises could speed up this process, but because it’s different form of exercise they wouldn’t necessarily end up with the same body type. it also heavily depends on what kind of swimming they’re doing, how often they do it, what swimming exercises, at what level, not to mention what they’re eating, how much or often they’re eating, how the individual person responds to certain foods, metabolism, and things like stress, sleep, hormones, etc etc.

upbringing does have an effect as well, wwx, depending on how long or how badly he was malnourished during his time on the streets would likely have effects from that, stunted growth, weakened immune system, delayed bone development, bad teeth, neurodevelopmental disorders, etc etc. these can be reversed if it only lasted a short time but his later periods of malnutrition makes things murkier. he’s probably not going to be tall and broad unless jfm found him really really fast, or if a golden core formation magically fixes everything, but it probably doesn’t. lsz could suffer from these issues as well.

TLDR; the jiang could have people in it that have swimmers builds, and the nie could have bulk, and the lan’s could look like acrobats, but it all really depends on the individual’s genetics, skeleton, and diet, and not entirely on the activity that they’re doing, and though that would effect their body, the cultivators would not have a specific body type distributed uniformly across the sect. and wwx suffered through periods of malnutrition that could show up on his body, leaving tall broad wwx a pipe dream. probably. there’s room for interpretation there. in mxy’s body…. idk because we know very little about him but he’s probably suffering from malnutrition as well.

sorry for such a long message i just saw that post and had a lot to say lmao. this is probably adding too much realism into an ancient fantasy setting but why else be on tumblr if not to over analyze lmao. i hope ur doing alright, have a nice day!

Publishing this as is in case anyone is interested!

As for my thoughts, absolutely no offense intended but I can't really read this because the talk of food and nutrition is sort of triggering to me (I have an ED). I really do appreciate your long post and meta thoughts and of course you didn't know but just putting this out there for future reference for people to see: I'd appreciate if people don't send me asks about any content regarding struggles with food and nutrition or malnourishment or things like that; I hope this is coming off ok! I'm definitely not mad and I'm sure this is a great analysis!

Hope you have a good day too!

[itsallyscorner]

Bring Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.

A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!

(GIF creds: @atealiers )

Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.

When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.

He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.

After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.

Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.

He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.

•

Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.

You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.

“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.

You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.

You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text. 

Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx

You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.

The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.

“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Buzz

Buzz

The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.

“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.

“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”

You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”

“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.

“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”

Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”

The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.

“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.

“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”

“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”

“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.

Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.

The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.

Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.

You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.

~🛬~

The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.

“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”

The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.

“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.

“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”

The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”

“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.

Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”

You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.

“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.

“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.

“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.

A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.

“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.

“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.

“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.

“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.

You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.

Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.

“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.

You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.

“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.

“What if—,” You cut him off.

“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”

Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”

Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.

Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”

He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.

“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.

Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.

“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.

“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.

With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”

You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[ruvatia]

Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

<I found a way to modify notifications sent to another device.>

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Is it possible to be completely caught up with twitter? I follow like 500 accounts.>

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

<Oh here I was thinking that this was an intervention to brighten my mood. We’re dragging each other’s follows now?>

<Oh please like you don’t want to be dragged, with that kind of follow list.>

<I can’t believe you’ve done this.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[missanthropicprinciple]

ooh for the prompts I think this one is super cute and could be fun:

“A kiss here. A kiss there... Ah! There’s the smile I’ve been hoping to see!”

Thanks! (I did a variation on the dialogue to better fit the character.)

ok I've never written for Star Trek before, let alone for a scene with my own OC. Please be gentle. LOL *is nervous*

    Dr. Bashir was having a fairly slow week. This was welcome as the previous few days had been taken up with treating various species for what appeared to be a common cold. The accompanying documentation of treatment was mind-numbingly dull. Miles had asked him to go to Quark's and Julian had agreed, yawning, saying he had one more appointment and would be there shortly. He looked over his patient's chart, noting that they were a species he had not seen before let alone treated. Intrigued, his mind became a bit more alert.

    A humanoid with skin a muted violet, almost blue-grey, and curly forest-green hair sat in the infirmary waiting for Bashir.

    "Zo-vel, isn't it?" Julian said cheerfully as he approached.

    "Yes," they said plainly, observing the doctor with great intensity. Their face was stern, emotionless, but to an intuitive individual, melancholy. Their brown eyes were soft, their mouth closed and unsmiling.

"Have you been feeling ill at all, recently?"

    Zo-vel replied that they had not. Julian nodded, silently hoping that the universal translator was functioning properly. He examined their eyes, nose, mouth, checked for any rashes, took their temperature and stared at the readouts. Everything was in order and Julian informed them that they could be on their way.

    "Already?"

    "Yes, it was just a routine scan. You're in perfect health."

    Zo-vel was hesitant to leave, looking toward the door and then back at the doctor.

    "Was there something else?"

    His patient inhaled, drawing back. Their eyes widened slightly in hope and then narrowed again. They sighed and pushed their mane of mossy-green locks off their forehead.

    "I have heard of a sickness, that is not a sickness exactly. I don't know what to call it. I am far away from my home and being away from my planet...the air is not right for me. I cannot explain."

    Julian nodded, knowingly. "I understand."

    "You do?"

    He looked at their dark periwinkle face. There was a long scar that started above their left eyebrow and ran down at an angle over their eye and ended under the outer edge of it. He could tell it was a new injury, perhaps occurring in the last year or so. Their thin brown eyebrows were raised in hope. Their mouth still straight and small.

    "Being away from home causes 'homesickness' but you're correct, it isn't a real illness, at least in a physical sense. However, I think there also may be some biological consequences for being in an entirely new atmosphere. Altitude, change in atmospheric composition, a change in natural diet - all these things can have additional effects on one's heath."

    Zo-vel bowed their head.

    The doctor made a mental note; this species cried like a human would. Silent tears fell on their black clothing. Julian looked away but decided to take a chance. He placed a kiss on top of their head.

    "Ah! Now there's a smile."

    Zo-vel looked up and wiped the tears away. They tucked their hair behind their slender pointed ears, and made their way to the infirmary exit.

    "Thank you, doctor." They nodded, looking back.

    Julian beamed and watched his patient walk out of sight.

The End (maybe I'll return to this character?)

For visual reference, my OC:

I tried.

[genshin-obsessed]

time to feed the pocket. The vampire!kazuha hcs you requested, m’lady;

-part of kazuha‘s vampire abilities would be increased senses, specifically smell and hearing, since this fits in quite well with his canon descriptions of being able to hear the sounds of nature in what most people would interpret as silence, just make it a little more literal. And of course, his increased sense of smell would help him detect blood nearby and it’s quality (because I guess that’s how you determine that? Idk make it make sense.)

-in order for kazuha to be on beidous ship and not be found out on being a vampire, everytime he stops on land, he has to in take wayyy more blood than he would if he just had a little bit regularly. Blood has little to no shelf life, so he can drink as much of what he can fresh, and then have a stash that he downs for the next, maybe max 4 days while being on board. There’s stuff that could be done to preserve it, like adding anti-coagulant to stop the blood from being clotted and disgusting, but it would remove a lot of important nutrients and proteins and that’s pretty notable considering blood is one of, if not the, most important part of a vampires diet. So whenever he’s finally off ship? He’s very, very, hungry.

-Compared to most vampires, Kazuha is fairly modern and quite poor. This is because while most vampires rely on long lineages of wealth, by the time Kazuha came to inherit belongings, there was no wealth to speak of, even with his family being more well known. So instead of wearing clothes and using tools that could be hundreds of years old like most vampires, Kazuha has had to supplement with buying new things to make up for getting pretty much nothing from his family line.

-in terms of victims, often, he finds himself drawn towards people who ingest a lot of herbs, probably because of his love towards nature.

hope these were ok, I’m a little dry on ideas rite now and I have a fear of blood so I’ve never been good with vampires. -🐗boar anon

omg boar anon you're too good to me T^T BUT BUT BUT YOU INSPIRED ME TO ADD SOME OF MY OWN!! i seriously hope this doesn't offend you or like?? make you upset >.< but i decided to add some Kazuha x reader hcs cuz why not??? it fits well here, no?? ima go off what you say!

also yours are much better bc im so tired im starting to get a little dizzy- BUT IM ALMOST DONE

also I was tempted to tag this as x reader but I just left it. you can if you want lmao

cut bc I talk about blood ^w^

pre relationship

Kazuha would meet you in Liyue when he's out searching for "food".

I'm sure he can smell all the people around him and they smell really, really good since he's just really hungry! Not that he would just fall prey to his instincts and start attacking everyone

then you would walk by and you'd smell like... nothing (yeah im going against the troupe here lol)

his crimson eyes would follow your figure, causing him to turn his body just to watch you go. He couldn't help it. He had to know you.

Kazuha follows you and somehow manages to introduce himself to you. You're so kind, greeting him with a smile and making his already-dead heart start beating again.

You're so odd, but you're like a breath of fresh air to him (pun intended???)

For the entire time Beidou's docked near Liyue, he spends with you.

Of course, there are days where he can't help but just wonder what your odorless blood would taste like.

Those days where he gets his intense thirsts for blood- days where he's hunched over, grasping at his chest, he can't help but think of you. It would be so easy for him to just take a little bit of your blood- but no! He could never do that!

relationship established

it took Kazuha some time to confess his secret and you were scared in the beginning, who wouldn't be?

the first time kazuha bit you was an accident. He'd ran out of his blood supply, he was hungry, and you were hugging him so tightly.

he couldn't help his instincts. Kuzuha's eyes were glowing and the dryness in his throat could only be quenched with one thing- and you had plenty of it.

he moved so fast, neither of you could react. before kazuha knew it, the blood in your veins was sliding down his throat.

it was sweet and almost tasted like candy to him- it was so addictive. his arms tightened around your waist as he drank away.

you gasped at the pain, shutting your eyes tightly. but you didn't try to push him away, not unless you felt as if you were in danger, but you trusted him enough.

kazuha doesn't drink from you often, he feels bad. There are days where you'll offer- but he'll decline. But there are days where you can barely get the words out before he's inches away from you, ready to bite down.

Kazuha always feels bad after, he's scared he'll hurt you. Yet, he's always so gentle.

he does still go away to sea and you stay behind, but there's a day where he hopes you'll join him. He's never gone for too long and always comes back home to you.

All in all, Kazuha loves you

and your blood

[qitwrites]

|| 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 

Momo is 13 when she gets her first period.

Her parents had talked to her about it of course, told her it was completely natural and normal and healthy, and to come to them when it happens.

What nobody was prepared for was the pain.

She’s in the family garden creating some Lego blocks for herself when a bout of cramps, sharp and intense, roils through her abdomen and up her left leg. It’s so sudden she can barely call for help, and by the time the guards reach her, she’s on the ground sobbing, clutching her stomach and shakily taking in gasps of air.

They tell her it’s a combination of her diet and her genes. The high-fat diet has consequences, no matter how much she uses her quirk to balance it out and her father’s side of the family has a history of debilitating period pains. It’s just really bad luck, or so they tell her.

Of course, this doesn’t deter Momo from her plans of becoming a pro-hero. It’s all she wants. So, it’s what she chases and works for and earns.

The period pains get worse.

Class 1A doesn’t notice for the longest time. Momo is good at hiding it, at hiding how often she uses the loo for the first two days, how much pain she’s biting back in class, how badly she’s performing in training. She practices her smile in the mirror, sits through hours of class and training and socializing with a smile plastered on her face, and screams into her pillow at night. She spends those nights on her bathroom floor, alternating between throwing up and enjoying the cool feeling of the tiles underneath her.

Nobody realizes until Momo doesn’t show up for class one day.

Of course, everyone is immediately concerned- Momo isn’t one to skip. She takes the best notes, has perfect attendance, submits her assignments on time, the works. First period passes like that, and Aizawa even brings it up but nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t messaged a soul or called anyone about anything.

They’re on break after second period when Todoroki finds her on the staircase landing between the first and second floor.

Momo is on the ground, laying on her side. Her hand is in her mouth, blood dripping down her skin as she clenches it tightly between her teeth. Her other hand is wrapped around her abdomen, squeezing tightly. Tears stream down her face continuously, like an endless river. She’s muffling her screams, and it’s almost like she can’t even see Todoroki, her gaze piercing straight through him.

Todoroki is immediately alarmed, getting to his knees in front of her. He looks over her and can’t see any physical injuries, any signs of trauma.

‘Yaoyorozu,’ he says urgently, ‘what’s going on?’

Momo blinks at him, some of the tears dispelling. She finally sees him, recognizes him, and gasps. She pulls her hand away and the tears spill again.

‘I can’t-‘ she starts and sucks in a sharp breath ‘-I can’t breathe. I can’t- there’s too much pain fuck.’ Todoroki raises his brows- Momo never curses. Never. Not even when she stubbed her toe against the dining table and broke it.

‘We have to get you to recovery girl,’ Todoroki says, moving to help her up.

‘Wait,’ she groans. ‘I need- dammit, Todoroki let me borrow your left hand for a moment please.’

Todoroki complies without question, and watches as she takes it and places it on her abdomen above her uniform.

‘As hot as you can go,’ she says, ‘without burning my uniform. Please.’

Todoroki has no idea what’s going on, but he does as she asks. The effect is almost immediate- her breathing evens out, her eyes focus again, her body stops jerking in pain. It’s almost like she’s been sedated.

After nearly 2 minutes of sitting in silence, she gently takes Todoroki’s hand and places it on his own knee. She sits up gingerly and wipes away her tears, smearing some of the blood on her cheeks instead. Todoroki watches her carefully, ready to step in if she asks for help.

‘What happened?’

Momo looks at him with sad eyes. ‘It’s just my period cramps Todoroki. I’m ok, I’ll be alright.’

Todoroki quirks a brow. ‘You’re not ok Yaoyorozu, even I can tell just by looking at you.’

Momo is about to voice another protest when the door to the stairwell bursts open. Bakugou and Kirishima walk through with vending machine drinks in their hands and stop when they spot the pair on the floor.

‘Yaomomo?’ Kirishima shouts, running towards them. Bakugou trails just behind, eyebrows furrowed.

Momo plasters a smile on her face, trying to hide her bloodied hand.

‘What happened?’ Kirishima yells, crouching down with a concerned look in his eyes.

‘I-‘

‘She said it’s period cramps,’ Todoroki interrupts. In all honesty, he never grew up around his mother or his sister, so he has limited knowledge of periods in general. But with that limited knowledge also came the lack of a stigma towards periods in general. He doesn’t think anything of talking about it.

Kirishima’s concerned look melts into one of sad understanding.

‘Oh man,’ he says, ‘that sucks Yaomomo. They’re that bad, huh?’

Momo keeps her smile in place. ‘Really, I’m fine, it’s nothing I cannot handle, I’m ok-‘

A hand, absurdly gentle, pulls her bloodied one away from where she’s hiding it. Momo startles when she sees Bakugou holding her hand, giving her a tight look. He drops it gently and sighs. With a grunt, Bakugou sits down next to her, back leaning into the wall. Kirishima sits cross legged in front of her while Todoroki sits on her other side.

‘My old hag,’ Bakugou grumbles, ‘has period pains. More like period torture, I guess. She threw up every month on the first day. She’d have dark circles from the lack of sleep, and she’d slap hot water bags to her stomach 24/7. She even burned the skin there a few times. Painkillers didn’t do shit, there were no surgical options, not even birth control made much of a dent. She’d just grit her teeth and bare it every month.’

Momo listens silently, her hands slowly unclenching.

‘My moms,’ Kirishima pitches in, ‘are pretty chill with it. Well, Mama’s get really bad sometimes, but mom is usually ok. I’ve seen them bring each other ice-cream or squeeze each other’s shoulders. They sync up a lot too! Mama would always tell me to be nicer to mom, and mom would always tell me to give mama a kiss. They’re both so manly when they battle their periods every month.’ He offers Momo a gentle smile.

Todoroki hums. ‘I admit, I don’t know much beyond the biological part of it. But from what I can see, Yaoyorozu, this isn’t very normal, is it? This level of pain?’

Momo sighs, brushing away the fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I, between my quirk and my genes, I have received the shorter end of the stick. Of course, I have looked into treatments. There’s nothing I can fix with surgery, and painkillers are usually ineffective. I have tried birth control measures, but they interfere with my quirk.’

Momo looks up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think we talk about this enough, about heroes that menstruate. I can’t stop being a hero on the days I have my period, but sometimes, I’m in so much pain I can’t see straight. I-‘ she sucks in a stuttering breath ‘-I don’t know what to do sometimes. I want to stand on equal footing with my peers.’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘You shitting me? You’re top of the class, your quirk can make fucking canons, you tutored our fuckwit classmates into not failing miserably, and you did it all through this shit? What part of that is not equal with your peers?’

Kirishima nods in agreement. ‘I mean, Mina has some cramps too, so I usually bring her hot water bags when she asks. I read somewhere that spinach is great for period health, so I make us both protein shakes with spinach and banana! She says it helps.’

‘The iron in spinach must be beneficial,’ Momo muses, her face breaking into the first genuine smile of the day. ‘I usually up my iron intake as well. It does help.’

‘You’re right though,’ Todoroki adds, eyebrows furrowed, ‘we don’t talk enough about heroes that menstruate. Plus, the fact that you can’t seem to find a way to manage your pain without it affecting your life is proof that they haven’t put much thought into it, isn’t it?’

Bakugou grunts in agreement. ‘My hag volunteers at women’s shelters and tries to raise funds for pain meds and hygiene supplies and shit. It’s ridiculous. All of that shit should be free. No one asks to have a period every month.’

‘We can change that though,’ Kirishima pipes in, always the voice of positivity. ‘Look at the four of us, talking about it! Yaomomo, I’m sorry.’

Momo blinks, ‘What for Kirishima?’

‘For not noticing! You must’ve been in so much pain all this time, huh? I’m sorry for not noticing and doing more.’

Momo feels something cold press against her arm. She looks down to see Bakugou pushing his unopened drink into her elbow.

‘Take it, staying hydrated helps with the cramps.’ He stands up and brushes his pants. ‘Think you can stand?’

Momo takes a sip of the drink, relishing the cold fizzy burn as it slides down her throat. She takes a deep breath and stands, stumbling a little before catching herself. Todoroki steadies her around the elbow.

‘Can we take you to recovery girl?’

Momo smiles warmly. ‘I’ve been already. We’ve been working together on some remedies. It’ll take time, but I hope we can come up with something.’ Momo hums. ‘I should put more work into this. I can’t be the only hero that faces such bad period pains.’

‘That’s so manly Yaomomo!’ Kirishima beams. ‘I’m kinda dumb so I don’t think I can help with the research but let me know if there’s anything else I can do.’

Momo giggles into the back of her hand and they start moving towards class together. As they reach the top of the stairs another bout of cramps settles into her gut, and she clenches the railing with a white knuckled grip.

The boys stand around, guarding her, supporting her, giving her small smiles and reassuring nods. Todoroki offers her his hand again, and she quickly makes a heating pad and hands it to him, so she can continue to use it during class. Bakugou urges her to drink more water, and Kirishima keeps telling her how manly she is.

When they get to class, everyone crowds around her and she laughs softly, promising to explain everything later. The rest of the day passes by with little incident, and throughout it all, Todoroki takes the heating pad from her, heats it up and hands it back, hour after hour.

They talk about it in the dorms after class, and recounting her episode opens the floodgates for all the girls.

‘I get really bad migraines,’ Uraraka sighs, rubbing at her temples as if in anticipation. ‘It makes the nausea from my quirk even more unbearable.’

Jirou nods. ‘I get you. I have leg cramps, makes it impossible to use my legs during heartbeat surround. The speakers are too painful to use, and I’m never as stable as I’d like to be.’ She gives Kirishima a pointed look. ‘I’ll join you at the gym next time, teach me some leg moves. I want to get stronger.’ Kirishima gives her a huge thumbs up and a blinding grin.

‘My back gives out sometimes,’ Mina says. ‘I have this pain that burns in my lower back on a few occasions, it’s the worst.’

‘I don’t have a lot of physical symptoms,’ Hagakure pipes in, ‘but I do have PMS and depressive episodes. I’ve been trying to figure out a good med balance to fix it.’ All the girls nod at that, squeezing her arms and shoulders in silent support.

The teachers are brought into the loop too, and Aizawa gently berates Momo for not coming to him sooner.

‘We’re here to help,’ he says, eyes the gentlest she’s ever seen. ���Learn to rely on your teachers more, will you? Such troublemakers , the lot of you.’

Momo makes hot packs for the girls after that, and the teachers don’t blink when one of them passes it to Todoroki in the middle of class as the boy just heats it the appropriate amount before passing it back without so much as a hiccup in his work.

Bakugou sends Momo articles and tips from his mom about pain management and dealing with cramps. He says it’s because he wants her to be in top condition when he beats her for #1, otherwise it won’t, in his eloquent words, mean jack shit. Momo tries some stuff out, happily surprised when her symptoms are even the slightest bit reduced. Kirishima offers to make them all spinach shakes, and they take him up on that every so often, complimenting his limited cooking abilities.

And on the days Momo is back on the bathroom floor heaving into the toilet, Jirou holds her hair back. Mina cuddles her on the couch when her hands are clenched as she bites back tears, and Ojiro sits by her feet, a reassuring presence to depend on if she ever needs something.

They’ve still got a long way to go as a society, but it’s a start. And a damn good one at that.

[obx-paradiseonearth]

Could you do kook boys x reader (reader dating rafe but best friends with all 3) pls🥰

Absolutely! I made it a headcanon I hope that’s okay! Enjoy lovely!

// Dating Rafe and Being Best Friends with Kelce and Topper //

You started out as best friends, you’ve known them all since middle school, you were ridiculously shy and they were the type of boys who were super loud, always trying to make the shy people speak

You know the type, the idiot boys who are always like “why don’t you talk? You know you can talk, right?”

Yeah, the idiot boys

Well one day you just weren’t having a good day, bad hair day, homework done but not well, and you tripped on your way in the door; you were basically verging on a level five meltdown and god help the people who push you over the edge

A.K.A. Rafe Cameron, Topper Thornton, and Kelce Smith

“Hey, Princess-” that’s what they’d been calling you for weeks, it made you seeth and blush at the same time, “saw that fall earlier, it looked kind of nasty. You ok?”

You had rolled your eyes, closing your locker a little louder than you had intended to but you honestly didn’t care, “what do you care, Thornton?”

Their eyes had widened and you would have laughed if you weren’t already fuming, your fingers clamped around your biology textbook- that’s another thing for the list, you despised biology- half a second away from slamming someone’s head into the ground, yours included

“We’re just worried, Prin-”

“Don’t you say it, Cameron. Don’t fucking say it.” You had bit out, stepping towards him, your free hand curled in a fist

Kelce had laughed at that, slapping Rafe on the back, “you fucking heard her man. Little mama finally found her voice. I’m proud.”

Your cheeks had gone hot instantly but you didn’t step down, “not much better, Smith.”

“Yeah, well tough,” he had grabbed your textbook, stacking it on his identical one, “you coming or what?”

That was it, that was all it took for you to be one of them, it all happened super fast to be honest, after that you started sitting with them at lunch- well, they started sitting with you- and hanging out after school, they started closing ranks around you in every class and in the hallway, you were untouchable from that moment

They were pretty hardcore too, always around- not that you minded- and always tensing when other people gave you weird looks, Rafe especially, always ready to swing at someone for simply walking past you wrong, his jaw always tight in the cafeteria and hallway

You would ask them for the first year a lot why they even hung out with you

One night the summer before freshman year of high school you were especially persistent

“I’m serious guys, what’s the deal?” You were at the beach, digging your toes into the sand as you watched the sun set.

Rafe and Kelce were rough housing, rolling around on the surf and howling with laughter, Topper was next to you, handing you a diet coke with his eyebrows furrowed

“What do you mean?”

You had bitten your lip, feeling a little ridiculous, “why are we friends?”

At this point Rafe and Kelce were listening too, their eyes glued to you, “why not?”

“I just said I’m being serious, Top. I mean it, I don’t understand. I’m a nobody and yet all of a sudden you guys are always around, in full force, a fucking brigade. Is this a joke or something? Make the loner girl part of the club and then drop her? Are you guys fucking hazing me? I'm going to go into freshman year thinking everything will be rosy and you guys are going to dump pigs blood on me or some shit.” All of a sudden you were crying, shoving the bottle into the sand and standing, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet

“Woah, woah, woah,” Rafe had stood when you did, clearing the space between you much too quickly, “where’s this coming from, Princess? Did someone say something to you? I swear to god if someone fucking said some-”

“No one said anything, ok? Chill out. It just doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense.”

The tears were freely flowing by this point, fuelled by both embarrassment and anger, all of the boys speechless, Topper verging on tears himself as he dug his fingers into the surf, trying to think of anything at all he could say but nothing was coming to mind

It was Kelce who finally spoke first, wrapping his arms- sticky from the ocean and hinted with the dregs of sunscreen from earlier- around your shoulders and squeezing tight, “what’s gotten into you, mamas? You’re spiraling on me. Take a breath, yeah? We’re friends with you because we want to be. Does there need to be more reason than that?”

You had thrown your arms around him, your whole body shaking from the tears, “I’m sorry, Kels. It’s just so much. I’m confused.”

Rafe and Topper had pulled it together by now, circling around you, their hands on your back

“We don’t need a reason to be friends with you, What’s so confusing about being liked. You’re fucking amazing.”

“I’m not kidding, Princess. If someone fucking said something.”

“I know, I know. You’ll kick their ass.”

High school rolls around soon after that and things only get more intense, but in a good way, you’re always busy, weekdays and weekends, day and night, always with one or more of them, doing everything together

They get more popular in high school, Topper joining the football team and Kelce joining the track team, leaving you and Rafe to spend more time together alone, going to their games and track meets together, dressing up in the school colours and cheering like mad, sitting in the front row together

One night, during one of Topper’s games, you’re on the edge of your seat watching the constant back and forth of the game, tapping your foot and fingers relentlessly, your eyes glued to the field, and all of a sudden you feel someone grab your hand

When you glance down you see a ring- Rafe’s ring- and he rubs his thumb over your wrist, neither of you say anything but that’s the first time you realize you feel something different for the boy, he’s your best friend but he’s also more

All of a sudden you start getting nervous around him, dropping your books and stumbling over your words when he’s around, feeling your heart pick up whenever he sits next to you, especially when Kelce calls shotgun in Topper’s Range Rover and the two of you get shoved into the backseat together

One night in particular you guys drive out of town to go to a drive in movie theatre that Kelce has been raving about and like usual you and Rafe are forced into the back- lately that has been happening more and more- and you zone out, lost in the movie, when you feel a hand on your thigh

Obviously it’s Rafe’s, warm and curled around your leg, and he leans over, his mouth right next to your ear, “come cuddle, Princess.”

You nod at him, not trusting your words, and he wraps his arms around your hips, stretching his legs on the back seat and pulling you onto his lap, his head on your shoulder, his hands now around your stomach, you’re certain he can feel your heart pounding through your back which is pressed against his chest

He smells like oranges and you can’t even pretend to focus on the movie anymore, your attention fully on the way his hands smooth up and down your sides, eventually dipping under your t-shirt and splaying against your ribs

“Rafe-” you have to whisper in order to not catch the attention of Topper and Kelce who are absorbed in the movie- “what are you doing.”

“I like you,” his lips find your jaw, his hands squeezing your ribs, “like a lot. I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.”

Your breath catches when he says that, tensing on his lap, wondering if he’s being serious or if he’s just playing at something, “don’t play games with me, Rafe. It’s not nice.”

He grabs your jaw, pulling your eyes to meet his serious ones, “haven’t I more than proven that I don’t mess around when it comes to you? I like you, Princess. Fuck, I could say I lo-”

“Don't say it, Rafe. Please. We’re best friends.”

Your heart is pounding, your heart in your throat. You want him to say it, more than anything, but it’ll complicate things in your circle and these boys mean more to you than anything in the world and you don’t want to risk losing Topper and Kelce in the process

“I don’t care, I love you.”

Your whole body lights on fire when he says it, your veins singing to life in the dark backseat as he tightens his hold on you, his eyes searching yours for any indication that you feel the same way

“Rafe, I-”

“Just say you love me back. I’ll let it go but I need to hear you say it once.”

“Of course I love you, Rafe Cameron. You’re an idiot if you think for a second that I don’t.”

He doesn’t waste any time opening the door, pushing you gently out of the car and tossing a quick “we’re going to get popcorn, be back in a few” to Topper and Kelce

He tugs you behind the concession building, pushing you against the brick, his hands on your hips, his blue eyes dark and burning into yours, his eyebrows pulled together, his lips pursed, like he’s trying to figure something out

Meanwhile your heart is pounding so hard you’re pretty sure it’s trying to escape your chest, you feel like you could throw up from all the adrenaline pumping through your veins, every second feels like minutes and by the time a minute passes you feel like you’ve been staring at Rafe for hours, on edge and wanting nothing more than to pull him impossibly closer to you

“Rafe come on what are you-”

Just like that he snaps out of it, pulling you by your hips towards him and planting his mouth against yours, kissing you like a madman, his lips hot and surprisingly soft, his mouth tasting like the candy he had bought at the gas station on the way here, pushing your back against the brick and slipping his hand around the back of your neck, every movement desperate and perfect at the same time

“I thought you were going let it go,” you mumble between kisses, your hands tangled in his hair

“Changed my mind, Princess,” he quips back, his mouth never leaving yours

You head back to the car a few minutes later, quite reluctantly, your heart pounding still but this time from the thought of sharing what you had just done with your other best friends. You obviously can’t keep it a secret- that never works it only makes the rift bigger- but the thought of them distancing themselves is terrifying

You silently slip back into the backseat, your hands shaking and your lips swollen, it’s silent for a few seconds, the air tangibly thick, your stomach rolling once more, until you’re ready to snap

“So, where’s the popcorn, huh?” Topper’s eyes meet yours from the rearview mirror and you almost barf, your eyes starting to water

And then they laugh

They fucking laugh

Like hooting, barking, howling laughter

And you’re beyond confused, your body buzzing, until you finally force a “what?” out of your mouth

“Mamas, you didn’t seriously think he wouldn’t tell us did you?”

“He’s been planning this for like a whole two months you idiot. Surprised you didn’t see it coming actually. It was so fucking obvious.”

“Gee, thanks Top. Love the support.”

“Stop you know you love me.”

Rafe just slides an arm around your waist, pulling you back to him and laughing with Kelce, “had to keep it a secret.”

“So does this mean none of you hate me?”

“Mamas, chill, you could kill a city of people and I still wouldn’t hate you.”

Nothing really changes after Rafe tells you he loves you, you start dating but you’re still as thick as thieves with Kelce and Topper, still hanging out with them as you always had before, going on drives with Topper and helping Kelce study for his English homework

Really the only thing that changes is that you make-out more with Rafe, it’s a notable change too, that boy is dangerous with his mouth, but he’s still your best friend at the end of the day

If anything you’re less nervous now that you’re out of that weird confusing period of time where you didn’t know what you felt

When winter formal rolls around you all still go together as you had planned at the beginning of the year, Kelce spikes the punch- also as planned- and you spend the whole night giggling with them about the most stupid shit

“Has anyone else seen Tommy Galagher’s tie? I think I’m going to seriously barf if I have to keep looking at it.”

You slap Topper’s chest lightly, trying not to laugh at the true statement, “then stop looking at it, Top. You’re an idiot.”

He slings an arm over your shoulder, scoffing lightly, “says the girl looking at it right now like you want to burn it.”

You do laugh this time, tugging on his jacket, “I didn’t say you were wrong, did I?”

“Okay, but has anyone checked out how fine Mrs. Campbell is looking this evening?” Kelce pipes in and all four of you burst into a fit of giggles

You dance with Rafe to all the slow songs, your head on his chest and his arms tight around you, smiling when you hear the occasional “go get her tiger” from Kelce

Eventually you ditch the event, going back to Kelce’s place and changing into casual clothes before heading to the beach for a bonfire, just the four of you despite the fact that all of you- including you- had been invited to numerous after parties

You bring a few beach blankets, spreading them near the dunes and falling into a huge pile of limbs and more giggles, the top half of your body on top of Rafe’s chest, Topper’s head on your lap, Kelce sitting next to you, his hand in yours, pleasantly drunk and pretending like he knows anything at all about palm reading

Topper points at a few stars, spouting out names and stories about them that he definitely made up, causing everyone to laugh again, Rafe’s chest shaking under your cheek, his arms falling around your shoulders as you slowly drift off to the lull of your best friends and your boyfriend

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this

I hope you like it and feel free to send in ideas <3

[joshslater]

Breeder

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon. (Repost without the photo from another tumblr post)

I can’t remember the last time I came that much. Pump after pump of cum up his ass, and as I pulled out, one final squirt between his butt cheeks just to make more of an impression. I looked at his tight, pink T-shirt, his tight, leaking asshole, his smooth, slim legs, and his white calf-high Nike socks. “Fuck, I needed this so badly,” I exhaled and threw myself down on the bed next to him. It was my fault he was almost fully dressed, just barely out of his shorts. When we entered his apartment my juices were almost spilling over. We just kicked off our shoes and I started to grope him while we quickly moved to his bedroom. It had been such a stressful couple of weeks with tons of extra hours. Every day I felt drained of all energy the moment I stepped back into my apartment and hadn’t even had the energy to masturbate since… I don’t even remember. A month? More?

“I could tell,” he said, turning his head sideways looking at me. He was cute, even now that post ejaculation clarity had set in. My eyes had landed on him almost immediately once inside the bar. The radiant blue adidas baseball cap that we wore backward on top of his dirty blonde, shaggy hair and boyish face pulled me in. He was thin, so for him to have such tight clothes he probably shopped in the kids’ section. Just what I was looking for. A tiny twink I could just manhandle and drive hard. Kind of made me feel bad now for how one-sided that fuck must have been.

“I’m… It’s just with everything I haven’t been around much lately.” “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got plenty of time, if you want.”

He was still wearing the backward baseball cap as he lied on his front, looking at me with intense eyes. He wasn’t cute. He was gorgeous. Had I spent more time looking at his face than his butt walking to his place and his back being here I would have noticed earlier, but my dick had made all the decisions up until now. God, he must still be leaking cum into his bed given the size of the load I dumped in him. I wanted to tell him, to help him clean up.

He was biting his lip, still piercing me with his look. “Have you ever played puppy?” That came as a surprise. I’ve never understood that kink, and not just because I always top. I know some tops enjoy barking orders to a pup, or even dress up as an alpha dog, but it’s never been a thing I’ve understood nor at all considered.

“Can’t say that I have.” “Wanna try?”

He propped himself up on his arms, knuckles under his chin, elbows into the mattress. He was back to looking sweet and cute. I felt like I kind of owed him, but it’s not like I was doing him a favor either. Worst case it was nothing interesting and I could check another thing off the list.

“Sure, why not.” “Yass. I’ll get the things.”

He jumped out of bed and hurried out of the bedroom. If it wasn’t for the age check at the bar I wouldn’t have guessed him to be over 17. I assume he has a lot of creams in his bathroom and a strict diet. But then I would never miss a day at the gym. Different things are important to different people. “Take off your clothes” he shouts from another room somewhere. I slowly got up, and couldn’t help to look at the wet spot on the bed sheet where his ass had been.

I took off my jeans, my socks, my watch, and my shirt. I was just about to step out of my jockstrap when came back into the bedroom. “Keep that on for now.” I did as he said. This was his scene to direct. “Put these on.” He handed me a pair of leather wrist cuffs. Up until now it wasn’t clear who would play what role, though I had kind of assumed I would play the dog. Was I the dog? Would he also be a dog? I was kind of liking the uncertainty. The leather cuffs were high quality, and about as easy to secure as you could hope for when doing it on yourself. “And these,” he said as he gave me a pair of thigh straps, also leather. They were easy to secure, though I had no idea where this was going. He was rummaging in one of the drawers for something, and finally found a bottle of what I assumed to be lube. He proceeded to squeeze out a generous amount on the butt plug part of a tail plug. I’ve never seen one in person before. The plug part wasn’t that big, but the tail was huge.

“Now, get on all four.” I dropped down onto the floor. I was actually a bit anxious about this. I’m not an anal virgin, but I haven’t done a lot. I don’t even own a dildo myself. He walked behind me and I braced for impact, but he put the plug on a table and picked up something else. He crouched next to me and attached the wrist cuff with the thigh strap using a short chain with two metal clasps. Then he did the same on the other side. I wasn’t really sure what the purpose of the chains was. It would make moving around a bit awkward, but not stopping me from standing up or anything. He then positioned himself behind me and stuck a lubed finger up my ass and begun to wiggle it. “Not used to this, I feel.” He was damn right, but I was determined to take it like a man. He removed his finger and picked up the butt plug

I could feel him press the plug gently against my asshole, probing it lightly, only to then make a surprise, hard push and shove it all in at once. As soon as the sphincter grabbed it and pushed it into place I knew something was wrong. A shudder went like a wave through the body, and I yelped like a hurt puppy, surprising myself. I tried to cover my mouth as a reflex, but my armed yanked my leg, tripped myself despite already being on all four, and face planted on the carpet. “What the fuck!” I wanted to say, but what came out was an inarticulate “Whaaaff”. Getting real scared now I got up on all four again and frantically struggled to stand up, but somehow the body wouldn’t comply. It was like I couldn’t really grasp how to do it. I realized I was whimpering when he began to stroke me, petting my head like the back of a dog. “There, there. Calm down. There is nothing you can do about it now.”

He stood up and stepped away, while I was trying to figure out what was going on. I took a  step forward using my right arm and leg. That worked. I took another step with my left arm and leg. My mind was a whirlwind like I couldn’t focus on anything. I wanted to stand up, but how could you stand up if you are already standing? I let out an “Aooo” of frustration. He was back by my side again with something in his hands. What was his name? Did he ever even tell me his name? “Here, this should make you calmer” He stroked the back of my head a few times, and as much as I hated it, it was soothing. I then felt something cold. He was putting a chain around my neck, and then clasped a leash to it. I don’t know why, but suddenly the noise in my head went silent.

“Good boy!” He stroked my head again. “Let’s go to the door and clean up your mess. Heel!” We started walking out of his bedroom and down his short hallway toward the door.  My shoes laid randomly dropped on the floor, and a third shoe. It was one of his. A bright blue Nike air max shoe. The other one was neatly placed next to a row of other shoes. “Did you do that?” he asked and pointed at his shoe. “Bad puppy! Get it.” I raced ahead and bit into the heel of the shoe. It was still warm and smelled of his foot. It wasn’t that cheesy smell of reused socks or the sour note of workout sweat, but a light, earthy smell of everyday feet. Almost a bit like hay. “You like that?” I realized I was breathing in heavily with my nose in his sneaker, biting the ankle collar. I froze. I felt shame. Like I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing.

“Haha, it’s OK,” he said, and ruffled my hair. He proceeded to grab the other two shoes while I placed his sneaker on the floor and tried to dig my face into the opening. I didn’t get very far, but I manage to lick the inside bottom of the shoe. As it turned moist it released more fragrance. I could imagine him out on the streets, sweating during a hot day. Perhaps dashing to catch a ride. It wasn’t a pungent smell, but it was virile. It was the smell of someone with stamina. Then he stole it from me. “Hey, we have more cleanup to do.” I whined as he placed his shoe next to his other one.

Then he dropped on all four too and displayed his ass for me. “You left a mess here.” He didn’t have to say more as I attacked his butt cheeks with my tongue to clean them from my drying cum. It didn’t take many licks to clean him up around the butt hole. I then proceeded to lick the butt and to try to get my tongue as far up his ass as I could. While the taste was all mine, I kept breathing in his scent. It wasn’t at all as rewarding as the shoe. He was clean, had a citrus and cedar tree cologne, and hadn’t sweated much during our brief sex. I wished I would have worked him up harder. I know I could have made him exhausted from pleasure if I wanted to. He must have been squeezing now because my cum just kept coming out of him.

Abruptly he got up, mid lick. “Aw, you’re so hungry. Puppy needs food,” he said and walked into his small kitchen. I followed as fast I could. He opened the fridge and pulled out a few Tupperware containers, and dumped the contents into a dog bowl. He placed it on the floor. Brown rice, salmon, and broccoli. “There. Eat it all up. Puppy must stay strong for daddy.” I dove headfirst into the bowl and started to munch down the bowl of fridge-cold diet food. I realized I was starving and somehow this bland mush felt really satisfying. I started at a ferocious pace, but as I got down to the last quarter I was beginning to feel full. While grateful for the food, how could daddy know how much I could eat. Daddy? What was this nonsense? He’s a fuck I don’t even know the name of I picked up at a bar to breed. I was the top dog here, the alpha. This had to stop. I should stand up, take my stuff, and go. But I couldn’t stand up. I was already standing up. In frustration I howled.

He came back into the kitchen. I hadn’t even noticed him gone. He was wearing shorts again, but a different kind. Grey sweatpant shorts. He quickly sat himself down on the floor next to me, with crossed legs. He grabbed me and gently but firmly tipped me over so my head fell into his lap. “Puppy having a bad dream?” he asked. He didn’t sound mocking or sarcastic. His hand was stroking me on the side. I whimpered into his sweatpants. I could smell him again, the scent of a viril young man. I borrowed my head into his crouch and breathed heavily. I could smell his dick. Citrus, cedar, and precum. I began to lick the cotton fabric. “Good boy. Good boy.” I did nothing to his dick, but I could feel mine swelling in the jockstrap.

He gently pushed me away from him, got up, and filled another bowl with tap water. He placed it next to the first bowl. Then he held out one hand in front of me. I had to get up on all four from my lying position to see what was in it. Two white pills, one small and round and one larger and longer.  "Here, take these. They will make you stronger and better.“ I sniffed but all I got was his scent. I licked up both pills in one go and plunged my head into the water bowl to get some water to swallow them with.

He got down on the floor with me again, and started to remove the wrist cuffs and thigh straps, all while stroking me on my back. "I don’t think we need these anymore,” he said. I had no idea what he meant. I was just happy he was touching me. My dick was happy too.

“Come, let’s make you ready for the night,” he said, got up and left the kitchen. I got up on all four and did my best to catch up with him. He walked to his bathroom and opened the door. I rushed to get in before him. “Hey, hey,” he lovingly scolded me. He turned on the light and revealed a large bathroom. Shower, bathtub, washing machine, lots of bottles of shampoo and jars with creams, and a large dog cage. “Sit,” he commanded.

I immediately sat down, pushing the tail plug in a bit. I felt a wave, like a shudder going from the ass through the body. He was looking through the large cupboard. “Ah,” he said and pulled out a small jar. He put on a disposable latex glove, and kneeled in front of my. “Let’s take care of that for you,” he said and freed my dick and balls from the jockstrap. He then dipped a few fingers in the jar and begun to massage some ointment all over my dick and balls. I didn’t recognize the faint smell. I could feel my private parts getting warmer, but if that was the salve or just him rubbing me I couldn’t tell. Then he put everything back into the jockstrap. “Let’s marinate that for a while and tomorrow you will last hours.” I didn’t understand him.

Then he went to the cage and opened it. I could see that the floor of the cage was filled with clothes. T-shirts, sweatshirts, shorts, trunks, socks. It all looked like gym clothes, or at last lazy day attire. “Come here, get in your cage.” There was a small part of me that wanted to hesitate, so I didn’t run in but deliberately walked. I could feel my dick and balls heating up as they fully erect rubbed within my jockstrap. As I got close and closer to the cage I could smell it. It somehow made me excited and I sped up my stride the last few steps into the cage. It was just filled with different scents of him. Not citrus or cedar, but him. Socks he had been running in. A T-shirt he had slept in. A pair of sweatpants that had been through a lot. I just kept moving my head all around the cage. In indecision I just laid down and started to wiggle and rub against everything.

He closed and latched the cage door. “Good night, puppy. Dream about fucking me.” He didn’t need to tell me that.

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter eleven: "Falling in love will kill you"

Word count: 6,3K

Summary: Gerard is struggling to keep his shit together now that he knows Joey is going to marry Gubler. New Year is the perfect time to tell the news to the band. We can finally know why Joey has so many trust issues.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of kids being assholes, and rough childhood. Jealousy. Mention of sex. Someone calls Matthew "Matt."

A/N: I don't know what else to say but THANK YOU FOR READING

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

--

::: December 31th :::

Gerard hated himself. It had been a week since he finally faced the fact his crush on Joey had evolved into something he couldn't control. He was falling in love with her. Can you love two people? He had no idea, but it felt his feelings for the drummer were getting as intense as the one he had for his wife. He loved his wife, and he would never do anything to hurt her. But at the very same time, he couldn't stop thinking about Joey. He wanted her to be his.

- "Mine?! What kind of sick idea is that?"- he asked himself as he drove around town on his own, trying to clear his mind, that had been a mess ever since Christmas.

- "I have to get that girl out of my mind! This makes no fucking sense!"- he lit another cigarette and held the steering wheel hard, feeling his hands sweating.

He had been a mess all those days, looking at footage of the tour just to see the girl, hear her laughter, see her talking with pretty much everybody else but him. Never to him. Why? Did she hate him? Wasn't he nice enough for her? Wasn't he charming enough? Cute enough? What?

- "Could she be crushed on me too? And that's why she is avoiding me?"- she said out loud to himself, and his heart beat faster in his chest. Could it be? But what could he do if she did? Nothing, he was married. He wasn't going to cheat on Lynz with that girl. Was he?

- "Of course not!"- he wanted to slap himself- "I am not doing anything! I am not doing anything!"

But it was more complicated than he thought, he had to see her that night 'cos Mikey had organized a whole New Year's Eve party, and everybody was going to be there. Even Ray and Frankie had flown to the party with their families.

- "And she is engaged! for Christ Sakes!!"

Gerard kept talking on his own, smoking and drinking the third coffee of the morning. He felt sick in the stomach, but he knew it wasn't either of those things. It was his stupid crush.

- "Well, I don't really care if she is engaged! she could be mine anyway. Who the fucking hell cares about that guy? I bet he doesn't even love her! I love her!"- Gerard Way sighed and closed his eyes for a second.

- "You don't fucking love her!!"- he yelled and hit the steering wheel.

He didn't love her. He couldn't love her. Why would he? He didn't know much about her. He kept repeating those arguments in his head to convince himself he was just a crazy asshole about that whole thing. It wasn't real. It was just his mind playing fucking tricks with him.

- "She is in love with someone else, you are in love with someone else, you have been happy with your wife for years! This shit makes no fucking sense!! I knew having that girl in the band was the worst idea we've ever had."

Gerard was just kidding himself. He loved having Joey on the team. He loved how that tour had gone so far, the energy in the shows, the laughter in the rehearsals... everything. Even when she really didn't talk with him so much.

- "Why doesn't she fucking like me?!"- the singer was acting childish, but he couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help end up driving over her house. He knew the road too well, even when he had just been there once. He had made his way over a million times in his mind, just to make sure he wasn't going to forget it.

- "What the fuck are you doing?"- Gerard asked himself as he parked outside Joey's building. He looked up to her floor with the honest hope to see her there staring outside the window. Maybe if he saw her, that whole crush/love thing would be over. Perhaps it just was his mind screwing with him. It could be an effect of spending so much time with her. He wasn't really around a lot of other women on tour. Maybe that was it. Not love at all.

- "Please don't do this"- he begged himself as he opened the car's door. He put one foot outside and sighed. Was he doing it? He stepped back into the car and slammed the door.

- "You are not doing this, Gerard!"

But he was.

Gerard got out of the car and walked to the building. He hesitated for a few seconds but continued his way. He opened the front door and stayed still.

- "And what are you gonna say? Hello, are you crushed on me"?- he whispered and brushed his hands on his face, like trying to rearrange his thoughts with that movement. It didn't work, obviously.

- "There is no way you are doing this,"- he thought, even when his feet were moving towards the elevator quickly.

- "Please stop, what the fuck are you doing?"- he argued with his body, but still, he didn't stop.- "You are gonna make a fool out of yourself, you know that, don't you?"

The elevator door opened, and Gerard set foot on Joey's floor. That's when he stayed still. He noticed his hands were shaking. That's how nervous he was over her. The last time he had been so fluttered for a girl was the day he asked his wife to marry him.

After a few deep breaths, Gerard walked over to the drummer's door and held his breath for a few seconds before knocking. There was no way back now. Well, he could still run, but there weren't many places to hide. Silence. It seemed there wasn't anybody home. He waited a little longer but didn't knock again. No one answered the door, and Gerard sighed, relieved. She wasn't there. He wasn't going to make a fool out of himself. After a few seconds, he turned around and headed to the stairs, smiling.

- "Hey! Gerard!"- the girl's voice made him jump on his stop as she appeared at her door and smiled- "What are you doing here?"

- "I was... eh..."- he stuttered as he strolled back to her apartment- "I just..."

- "I haven't seen you since we came back from touring. Come in!"

And the singer smiled, so nervous Joey could tell there was something wrong.

- "How are you?"- he managed to say, feeling his cheeks red.

- "Great! Sorry, I couldn't open the door faster, I was in the bedroom."

- "Don't worry"- Joey stared at him in silence and smiled. She was actually happy to see him, just not as excited as he was. And neither as nervous.

- "Would like something to drink?"- the girl walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge- "Juice? Diet coke? Water?"

- "I'm ok, thanks. I just finished a coffee."

- "I also have coffee,"- she said and turned to him smiling- "I am actually gonna have another coffee."

Gerard nodded and did his best to rearrange the thoughts in his head. So far, the only thing he knew was that his crush didn't fade away when he saw her. If anything, it got worse.

- "Ok, asshole, you got here even when I told you it was a bad idea. What are you gonna do now?"- his brain made him feel like an idiot, and he completely agreed. He felt like an idiot standing in the middle of Joey's kitchen in complete silence.

- "So, what brings you over?"- Joey asked, and her eyes shone as she sipped her cup of fresh coffee.

- "I actually wanted to..."- Gerard made a pause and sighed. His heart was about to come through his throat.

- "Hey Gerard!"- and suddenly, shit got even worse, 'cos Matthew appeared next to him in boxers and t-shirt with a big "I just had sex" smile.

- "Of course he was here, you asshole!! Of course, they were having sex, and that's why it took her so long to answer! Of course, you are completely out of place here! now, how the fuck are you getting out of this?"- Gerard shook Matthew's hand and did his best to remain as relaxed and calmed as possible.

- "Hey, dude! So glad you are here too. Mikey told me the news the other day, but I was too busy to come, and it was too impersonal to just call, so... congratulations on the engagement!"- words just came out of Gerard's lips as he smiled, proud of his shitty lie.

- "Aww! thank you so much for driving over!!"- Joey smile blushing, and gave him a small hug- "You didn't have to."

- "Actually, I was on my way over to get a few things for Mikey's party tonight"- lies kept flying out of Way's lips- "Good one, don't make her feel special," And I thought I couldn't just keep on delaying this forever!"

- "Thank you so much"- Matthew smiled and walked to Joey, wrapping his arms around her waist as he stood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. Gerard looked at him and did his best to sound as honest as possible.

- "I'm very happy you are getting married. Lynz keeps telling me you two are a very cute couple"- Joey blushed and nodded.

- "Tell her thank you from us..."

- "Are you coming tonight to Mikey's party?"

- "Yeah, of course, we are!"- Gubler answered, and Gerard hated that- "But we are going to stop by my friend's party first, so we could be a little late."- and he kissed Joey's neck as soon as he stopped talking.

To Gerard, it was clear Matthew was showing she was his territory, and it bothered Way so much to see Joey wasn't doing anything about it. If anything, she was enjoying it.

- "Well, make sure you get there before they drop the ball; Mikey is really excited about this. You two have to be there. He hasn't been excited about many things lately"- Gerard looked at Joey and smiled- "Well, I have to get going now, again, congratulation, guys! See you guys later!"- he shook Gubler's hand and waved at Joey.

- "Bye!"- the singer got outside that apartment as fast as he could.

- "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!"- he repeated over and over in his mind as he fought the urge to smash his head against the wall. It wasn't just the fact that now he knew the actor hated him and knew he had a thing on his girl, but now he knew for sure it wasn't just a crush. He wanted her for himself.

- "So, where were we?"- Joey asked as he turned around and kissed Matthew's lips fiercely.

- "You were about to... take a shower 'cos I have to show you something important."

- "Oh, come on"- she whined and bit his lower lip- "Can we do it again? Just once? A quicky."

- "Nope"- he answered, chuckling- "Maybe when we come back."

- "What if when we come back, I don't wanna do it"- the girl answered and raised an eyebrow.

- "I guess... I can always try to persuade you..."- Matthew wrapped his arms around her tight and lifted her to carry her to the nearest couch- "I could kiss you for hours and see if you change your mind."

- "We should give it a try... daddy"- the girl whispered, kissing her fiancé, making him shiver.

- "Yes, we should... but first, we have to go"- Gubler stood up and held Joey's hand, who started whining again as the two of them walked to the bedroom.

- "You are gonna love this, Yami, so stop whimpering"- he chuckled and watched her taking off the small amount of cloth she was wearing and getting into the shower.

- "Fine, but this better be good, and it better includes a coffee."

- "Another coffee? You were drinking one five seconds ago."

- "I know... but it's new year's eve. We should get filled with caffeine to make it through the night."

- "You are right. I need a few more cups of coffee too."

- "Good, listen to your future wife. She is always right,"- Joey yelled from the shower and missed Matthew's reaction at his words. He smiled so wide he felt his face was staying like that forever.

- "I swear I will"- Gubler walked around the room, getting dressed too. At least he had already showered- "Hey, Yami?"

- "Yes, Gublerneritor?"

- "Is it just me, or Gerard was weird today?"- the actor made sure his words sounded as casually as possible.

- "I know! I felt it too!"- the girl answered in total honesty- "He looked kinda shaky."

- "Yeah..."- Matthew made a pause and thought about his words very carefully- "Yami?"

- "Yes?"

- "Have you ever thought maybe he..."

- "Not Matthew Gray, he doesn't have a crush on me"- the girl quickly answered and closed her eyes for a second, thankful she was in the shower while that conversation was taking place- "Actually, I've always thought the total opposite."

- "Why?"- Joey walked out of the shower and wrapped herself with a clean towel, walking to the room to look for some clean clothes.

- "He is always pretty cold and distant with me, we don't talk much, we've had the "I don't hate you" talk at least twice, cos it feels after our rocky start, we really haven't gotten along"- Joey smiled at Matthew and walked to the closet- "Except for that nap you took together and the movies you watched together alone in your bed, and the times you stare at him totally nervous... I'm never doing any of that again."

- "Maybe that's why he was so nervous"- Matthew said and looked at Joey getting dressed- "Maybe coming to congratulate us was his way to make amends."

- "Or maybe he felt forced to do it... maybe his wife made him."

- "Maybe..."- Gubler looked at Joey for a few seconds, and a little smiled lodged on his lips- "You look so pretty."

- "In a black dress?"

- "In pretty much anything you wear."

- "Not everything?!"- the girl pretended to be shocked.

- "Sorry, I don't like it when you wear pajamas. I like it more when you sleep naked"- her fiancé simply answered, and she blushed.

- "Sorry, some nights I get cold."

- "I'm never gonna let you be cold ever again"- he walked over and landed his hands on her hips- "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Matthew smiled and held her hand, kissing it. He recited The Corpse's Bride wedding vows, and his fiancé's heart was melting, and her eyes were full with tears.

- "Stop making me cry"- she whispered and stared into his hazel eyes, feeling waves of love- "I love that movie."

- "This "we are getting married" thing keeps me excited about all the future we will share, Yami."

- "I know!"- she grinned and jumped, making Matthew laugh.

- "Ok, come on, let's go."

- "Where?"

- "First to get coffee, then to see my surprise."

Mikey walked around his house and looked at everything he had ready for his New Year party. There was a little tiny part of him that was excited about it. His friends were going to be there, he was finally selling the house, so it was going to be the last evening in a place that, at this point, only caused him pain. He had even spent a few nights in a hotel just 'cos he didn't want to be home alone with his memories.

- "Hey!"- Frank, Jamia, and the babies walked over smiling. They had been staying with him since they arrived from Jersey the day before.

- "Do you need help with anything?"- Frank asked and lit a cigarette staying as far as the babies as possible.

- "Nah, I'm cool..."

- "You don't look real excited about this party. It's gonna be awesome!"- Frank was pretty psyched, he hadn't partied in a while... well, since Joey's birthday, but he was looking forward to having a fun night with friends and his wife.

- "I am, I just need more coffee... I'll make more coffee"- the youngest Way walked back into the house straight to the kitchen.

- "We'll be there around 11"- he read Joey's text and sighed.

- "It will be too late to get drunk together."

- "But not too late to puke the pool"- Mikey smiled

- "Why on earth are you coming so fucking late to the party I fucking organized to tell people you are getting married?"- he said as soon as Joey picked up the phone, and Mikey heard her laughing right away.

- "Sorry, but I swear we'll be there before they drop the ball"- the girl answered- "You are on speaker, by the way."

- "Hey Mikey!!"- Matthew yelled, driving.

- "Hey Gubler! Why are you keeping my sister from her party?"

- "Sorry! My friends asked us to be there for their dinner, but it's earlier, so you won't even notice."

- "I've been keeping your engagement a fucking secret for a week. Do you know how hard this is?"

- "You sucked at it!!"- Joey yelled, laughing- "Gerard appeared at my house today to congratulate us."

- "What the fuck?"- Mikey frowned, not getting what his brother had done- "Well, yeah, he heard me say it at Christmas, but... well, it's nice of him to move his ass and congratulate you."

- "Yeah, I know, I'm just saying you couldn't keep it a secret."

- "No one else knows, I swear, you are gonna overshadow the whole New Year's eve with your news, Bug"- Joey kept laughing as Matthew looked at her and smiled, happy.

- "Mikey, can I ask you for a favor?"

- "Whatever you need, Gubler."

- "Can you finally send me the videos of Joey's birthday at the karaoke?"- the bassist burst out laughing, and Joey quickly yelled no.

- "Don't you fucking dare, Michael James!!"

- "What are you middle naming me for? I haven't done anything!"

- "You two have been talking about those videos for way too long! And I am not gonna let my future husband see me doing such a sad show. He might reconsider the whole wedding!"

- "There is no way we are considering that! You've got a ring, this thing is on!!"- Matthew laughed and slowed down the car- "Mikey Mike, we have to go now, we just got where we were going, and I can't wait to show it to my girl, we'll see you tonight, hopefully not as drunk as the last time."

Mikey laughed, thinking about their very private engagement celebration (just the three of them). They had gotten pretty hammered playing Uno. And they had a lot of fun.

- "See you guys later; maybe we can check the videos with the guys. I'm pretty sure Ray got an amazing performance of Bug singing Megadeth with him."

- "Shit! I liked you better when you weren't best friends! bye bróðir!"- Joey and Matthew said goodbye and chuckled. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow- "What are we doing here, Akumu?"

- "This is my surprise, come on"- the young man opened the door and quickly ran to open his girl's door and held her hand.

- "Nice neighborhood"- she said and looked at the house in front of her. It was more like a castle, a haunted house, or a giant treehouse.

- "Do you like it?"- Matthew asked and kept holding her hand tight.

- "It's beautiful"

- "I'm glad you liked it, 'cos I bought it for us"- Joey froze.

- "What?"- and Matthew looked at her, smiling like a maniac.

- "This will be our house, Mrs. Gubler!!"

- "Oh my god!!"- the girl covered her mouth wide, opening her eyes, in absolute shock- "It's huge!"

- "And it's gonna be our home, to create all the weird little places we want!"- Matthew kissed Joey as the girl kept jumping.

- "I can't fucking believe this!! Matthew!! you got a house?"

- "No, Yami. We've got a house"- he corrected and felt her lips softly on his.

- "You paid it with your work Akumu, it's your house."

- "I bought it for us, and you are gonna help me make it our home. Come on, look at this, we can do whatever we want in this place!!"

Matthew was excited, and Joey was overwhelmed. He had gotten a house. That was huge. But he had paid for it, and she hadn't put a penny. She couldn't just let him buy a house for them. They had to share all the expenses. Sure, he made way more money than she did, but that didn't mean she wanted to be a maintained wife.

- "This is where I want to build our fireplace. I thought we could customize every single room in here. We have to have your music room back there"- he held her hand and crawled her around, laughing, nearly in hyperventilation.

- "Matthew..."

- "This is the kitchen where I will make you breakfast every morning"- no one could doubt he was happy.

- "Akumu..."- she tried to talk to him, but her fiancé was too excited and nearly ran upstairs

- "And up here we are gonna have our room, look! It has an amazing view, and I am going to paint here, and you are going to be my muse, and we are going to be so happy! And we are gonna fill this place with kids!"- Joey's heart kept racing with every word from Matthew's lips.

- "Akumu, I love everything."

- "And I love you!"- he quickly replied and held her tight, spinning her in the air- "You make me so happy!!"

- "You make me happy too, but... I also wanna pay for the house."

- "What?"- he frowned, not getting what Joey was saying.

- "Yeah, I mean, you bought a house, and it's awesome! I love it. I love you for doing it. But if it's gonna be my house too, I wanna pay the mortgage with you"- Matthew looked at her, confused

- "But..."

- "But? What?"

- "I..."- Matthew looked at his girlfriend in silence- "You are unique."

- "Meaning?"- the girl frowned and kept her eyes on his, not even blinking.

- "You never do what other people do."

- "People would take advantage of the guy buying them a house?"- he nodded and kissed her lips.

- "I don't care about the money Yami, I care about being with you."

- "I know that... but I care about not feeling like a burden."

- "Never! You are never going to be a burden to me."

- "I will feel like one if you don't let me pay for this house with you; I won't feel it like mine either. It would be your house, forever."

- "Our house, Yami"- he leaned over and kissed her sweetly- "This is our house"- Joey looked at him and waited for his words- "Of course, you can pay the mortgage with me, but that means you have to make breakfast too."

- "Deal"- she answered and grinned- "I love you, Matthew Gray Gubler."

- "I love you, Maria Josefina Sveinbjörndottir."

Ray and Frank were having the time of their lives. They were on fire with Mikey's party. All of their friends were there from hands and from recording in Los Angeles so many times. It was an amazing reunion. Gerard tried to look calmed and natural, but he was freaking out, constantly looking at the door. He was sure Matthew knew he was crushed on his girlfriend, and he didn't know if he was going to do or say anything. What if he confronted him in front of Lynz?

- "Are you ok?"- his wife asked as she wrapped an arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He hugged her carefully and kissed her temple.

- "Yeah, I think I need an extra coffee to make it to midnight."

- "Bug!!"- Mikey yelled and ran to the door as Joey and Gubler walked into the house. Gerard lit a cigarette immediately and tried to look away. But he couldn't. He had to know what Matthew was doing. And Matthew was hugging Mikey. What the fuck??

- "What? are they best friends or something? What the fuck is going on? Why are they hugged? What did I miss?"

- "You know, I'm so happy your brother has Joey"- Gerard's eyes opened wide at his wife's words- "I mean it, she is the only one of his friends that's not related to Alicia in any way. I think that's why he enjoys his time with her so much."

- "Could be... he is very friendly with Matthew too..."- Gerard whispered, and Lynz nodded.

- "Which is great, 'cos her boyfriend won't get all jealous of him when you guys are touring."

- "Yeah, that's right."

- "Jersey!! Dad!! I am so happy to see you!!"- the girl ran to his friends and hugged them both tight.

Matthew looked at her and smiled, following her. It seemed now that she had agreed to marry him, he was more confident around the band, except for Gerard. Matthew hated Gerard. He was now sure he had a crush or something like that in Joey, and he was aware she had no idea.

- "Iceland!!"

Frank hugged her tight and took a deep breath to enjoy her perfume. He loved having her around, and he still loved catching her attention. He would still think of her as a totally doable girl, but the drummer wasn't a distraction when he was around Jamia. Maybe that's what she turned into while touring, something funny to persuade, someone to flirt with.

- "I missed you, kid!!"- Ray said and kissed her forehead- "Hey Matthew! I'm happy to see you!"

- "Hey guys!!"- Gubler smiled at the bunch and shook Jamia's and Christa's hands. Frank and Joey stared at each other, giggling, not saying a word as Mrs. Iero chuckled nervously as she stood in front of Matthew.

- "Oh my God!!!"- Joey turned around to burst out laughing along with Frank. Their faces were red as tears fell from their eyes. Jamia was blushing as she wouldn't stop staring at Matthew. She just found him so incredibly attractive she was melting.

- "What is it?"- Matthew asked, not getting what was going on.

- "Dude, it's useless"- Ray answered, tapping on his back- "They are gonna be like that for a while."

- "Really?"

Gubler stared at her girlfriend and bit his lips. She looked so happy; he had never seen her that happy amongst people. She was always lovely with his friends, and everybody loved her. They were all incredibly excited about their wedding, especially Paget. She had jumped over Joey the second they walked into her house earlier that night. But this was the first time Joey had friends, and Matthew had just realized how much she needed them.

- "I'm sorry, dork"- Joey wiped off the tears from her eyes and wrapped an arm around her fiancé- "Frank and I have an inside joke that goes way back, I'll tell you later"- he smiled and kissed her softly.

- "That's fine. And do you wanna tell them now?"

- "Yes"- she whispered, nodding- "Wait, where's Gerard?"- she asked and took a look around.

- "Gee!!"- Mikey yelled and waved at his brother, who walked over with his wife a few seconds later.

- "Hey Lynz!"- Joey smiled at Mrs. Way and at her husband. Gubler was way more friendly than he thought he would be 'cos he didn't want to make a fuzz. Gubler didn't want to make Joey uncomfortable in front of her friends. Gerard was a subject of a conversation he had to know how to face at another time.

- "Ok, ready?"- Matthew asked Joey and looked at her smiling. The girl was so excited she even jumped before saying.

- "We are getting married!!"

- "What?!"- Frank yelled, wide-opened eyes.

- "Oh my god!!"- Ray freaked out and jumped to the couple- "Congratulations, guys!!"

- "Thank you, dad!!"- Joey smiled and felt Frank jumping to the hug too, crawling Matthew with him.

- "Oh shit!! We are gonna party tonight!!"- Frank shouted as they all laughed. Jamia clapped and waited for the perfect moment to congratulate Joey and literally hang on Matthew's neck. Frank and Joey burst out laughing again, but no one but them actually got what was going on.

Lynz hugged and congratulated Joey, and the drummer thanked her cheerfully. She looked at Gerard next to his wife and smiled. But he didn't really look so happy.

- "What the fuck is this guy's problem?"- Joey thought, but Matthew's arms around her waist took her from any random thought she might have had, as he sweetly redirected her to Frank and Jamia, who were talking to her about the upcoming wedding.

- "You bought a house?!"- Ray yelled, and Joey laughed. Her friends were happy and excited about it. That felt warm inside, like, being loved.

- "Did you call Tucker?"

- "Not yet"- Joey confessed- "I've been trying to process it all actually."

The girl looked at Ray, and he smiled at her so nicely she felt like crying. Maybe at that point in her life, she had to face the fact it felt good having friends.

And this is why she had always run away from people: Joey had grown up alone in an orphanage until the age of eight. That was when Mercedes and Sveinbjörn had adopted her and gave her a home. She loved her foster parents very much. They were as loving as real parents would have been. They always tried to have a baby but never could. However, Mercedes wanted to have a kid so badly, she convinced her husband to adopt. They were going for a baby until they saw Joey. She was alone in a playroom, drawing, away from all the other kids. They walked to talk to her, and she smiled, melting their hearts right away.

- "Why don't you play with the other kids?"- Mercedes asked her as she started drawing with her, and Sveinjörn looked at them from a safe distance.

- "I don't like the other kids."

- "Why?"

- "'Cos they don't like me either"- Joey simply replied- "That's why I draw my own friends"

And she showed the woman what she was working on. That was when Mercedes knew she was taking that girl home and giving her all her love no matter what. And she did.

Joey had a hard time in the orphanage. The older kids hit her 'cos they said she was weird until she learned how to defend herself. By the age of six, Joey had beaten up pretty up all the older guys in the place. That meant she didn't have many friends either. Everybody was scared of her. By the age of seven, she had stopped trying to make friends. Nobody wanted to be around her anyway.

And that's how Joey grew up the rest of her life. Sure, she got a home and loving family, who gave her a new last name and all the support a kid needed. But she had already gone through enough to scar her heart.

Tabitha was her only friend growing up. The only one in mid-school and high school too. They were neighbors, and their mothers were best friends. They were "forced" to spend time together their whole lives, and Joey was eventually comfortable with her.

When she left for college, she decided it was time to start over. Nobody knew she was adopted. She didn't want to tell either. It made people look at her differently. More than usual. That was why she had fallen in love with Matthew when she first met him. He wasn't afraid to be weird. He loved and embraced his own weirdness, and he loved Joey's weirdness even more. He was the only one who knew she was adopted, the only one she had trusted enough to share it with. The other guys she had been with were always trying to be better than her; they felt intimidated by her abilities in music, by her being part of the music scene. And mostly by her independence.

She wasn't a people person, but she could work in teams and make music without being friends with her peers. Guys didn't like that. Her mom had always warned her about it. Mercedes tried to make her softer about her relationships with people, but in the end, she gave up. She was proud she had found Matthew, and by everything her daughter told her about her new job, she loved the guys in the band and how lovely they were with her. Especially Mikey and Ray.

- "With a card trick?! Can you be any more romantic?!"- Jamia's yells took Joey from her thoughts as she saw Mrs. Iero almost drooling over her fiancé- "I am so jealous!"

- "We know, honey"- Frank said and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist as Joey chuckled.

- "We are so happy for you, Bug"- Mikey kissed his friend's forehead, and she grinned.

- "Thank you..."

- "If I ever see her cry..."- Ray started, but Joey quickly moved her hand and put it on his mouth

- "We are not doing that, ok? I know how to take care of myself. You don't have to threaten Matthew. If anything bad happens, he knows who is gonna kick his ass, and that's gonna be me, I don't need..."- but Ray moved and placed his hand on her mouth, covering it and stopping her speech.

-" Frank, can you arrange her next tattoo appointment on me, and get her a nice one on her hand that says "I know how to take care of myself" 'cos at some point she has to get bored of repeating it over and over again"- Matthew burst out laughing at those words, making Joey frown. But Mikey laughed too, and Ray smiled, pleased his joke had worked.

- "Fuck you, dad"- she mouthed, and he hugged her.

- "You love me, Bug, now bear with the fact you've got a bunch of older brothers now, who will always take care of you, no matter what, ok?"- the guitarist kissed her temple and turned to Gubler- "And I mean it, I will end you."

- "Ray..."- Christa held her husband's hand and pulled him back.

- "It's ok, I completely understand it. I still want to kill my sister's husband... though my nephews are cool..."

- "So, what are we drinking?"- Joey said and looked around to change the subject as quickly as possible.

- "Shit! I'll bring you a beer"- Gerard said all of a sudden, just to find an excuse to get away from there. But...

- "I'll help you"- Matthew said and smiled.

Gerard knew he was fucked.

- "So... thank you for coming"- Gerard said and looked at Gubler as they stood in front of the fridge- "Mikey is really excited to have you here."

- "I know you have a crush on my fiancée"- Way's held his breath. He didn't see that coming so fast and so directly. But Matthew wasn't in the mood for sugarcoating anything for Gerard. In fact, he was making his best effort not to break his face right there, no questions asked.

- "I don't know what you are talking about."

- "Dude, I don't care if you deny it or not. You are fucking crystal clear. So here's the thing, stay the fuck away from her, ok?"- Gerard never thought Matthew would be that direct and even threatening.

- "You are getting the whole deal wrong. I'm just her friend."

- "I can see the way you look at her, and it's not a friendly way dude, face it."

- "You are wrong"- Gerard tried to sound cool and fresh, but he failed poorly as he noticed the look Gubler was giving him. It felt the actor was ready to kill him right there.

- "Keep telling yourself that."

- "Come on, Matt... I'm just..."

- "It's Matthew"- the actor said and looked right into the singer's eyes in silence for a few seconds- "She thinks you are all innocent and friendly, but I can see through you, so here's how things are gonna be, you are gonna stay the fuck away from her or I'll have to take her out that tour, you heard me?"

- "You are delusional!"- Gerard tried to defend himself and grabbed two beers from the fridge- "You can't fucking come and threaten me in my brother's house and pretend it's all my fault"

- "So you deny you were at her house this morning 'cos you just wanted to see her? 'Cos dude, that congratulation excuse was pretty shitty, and she swallowed it only because she can't think bad of you. She is too sweet for that shit."

- "I mean it, Matt"- Gerard used that name only to make him mad- "You have not idea what you are talking about."

- "Whatever you say, dude, just don't fuck it up, or I'll make sure you don't get to be close to her, ever again"- Matthew grabbed two beers as well and walked out of the kitchen to meet his fiancée.

Gerard was fucked. He knew it. It was going to be harder than ever, but he had to stay away from Joey. He was in love with her, for Christ Sakes. He felt like crying every time he saw her with Matthew. He wanted her to be his. And that was never going to be possible. He knew it. It made him want to break a wall. Break Matthew's face was also a pretty good idea, but he couldn't. Joey would never forgive him. And she was all he cared about at that moment.

- "No! I care about my wife. I don't wanna hurt my wife. I love her! This is a stupid crush, a stupid crush I have to get over soon!"

Gerard was fucked.

**

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[sushiburritonoms]

I've been having terrible writer's block lately, not enjoying anything I've written, not getting anywhere with WIPs. Poor @darkisrising and @bronze-lorica have had to talk me off edges lately (thanks guys you're the best!). I think I finally have a chapter 3 for Sacred Texts but I'm sitting on it for a while to see if that's the direction I really want to go. I'm soooo sorry for the delay.

In the meantime I was looking through my notes for The Father the Son and the Exile and I found a bunch of scenes I wrote and abandoned as the fic moved in different directions. I figured I'd post some of them because they'll never see the light of day otherwise and because I have nothing else to offer right now.

Originally in Exile, Din and Luke were supposed to make it to Tython. I had them meeting up with Han AND Leia on the planet Ajan Kloss (its the planet Luke and Leia train on in TROS). Its interesting looking back at this, Din and Luke have a different dynamic since I wrote this a long time ago back in March when the story was going in a different direction (I also wrote an homage to one of Writer Owl's fics in the dialogue). I enjoy playful Luke, I don't really write him that often and that's a real shame. Anyways here's wonder wall, enjoy!

Ajan Kloss  was a swampy humid hellhole of a planet that no rational, sentient being should visit, let alone enjoy. Of course that meant that Grogu and Luke were comfortable in the sticky humid environment. In fact there was a rare smile stretched across Luke's face and he sounded almost nostalgic as he talked around their campfire.

“There’s a certain type of moss that grows on the trees here that’s edible.”

Din refused to look up at Luke from where he was cleaning their meal.  “I’m not drinking any tea you make out of it.”

“It’s more of a garnish?”

Din sighed. “Don’t touch my fish.” He forcefully stuck a stick lengthwise through the fish as an emphasis.

“Grogu should really have more vegetation in his diet. Master Yoda used to eat plants.”

Din snorted. “You’re welcome to try.” It wasn’t like the kid never ate vegetables but they were always fried and covered in spices. That probably wasn’t what Luke was getting at.

“Maybe later. He did eat two whole frogs.”  Luke edged himself closer to the fire. “Maybe after this we could swing by Dagobah. You know, assuming we’re not about to trigger some sort of sneak attack or trap. There are tubers I could dig up for him that Master Yoda ate, plus I could pick up more gnarltree bark.”

Din blinked and raised his head up to properly look at Luke. He knew what Luke was doing. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of the future. It was a tactic Din often used himself--strategize every possible outcome in the hopes the future won’t be as terrifying as it feels.

On the one hand, he was amused and touched by Luke’s continued fixation on Grogu’s eating habits, even if it was hypocritical of Luke given his own poor diet.  It reminded Din of some of the older members of the Covert that used to watch Din when he was little. They always used to harass him to eat everything offered to him and gave him sharp nudges when he tried to skip directly to the occasional sweet treat left out for all the foundlings to share. It was very Mandalorian of Skywalker and it felt good. Familiar.

On the other hand, Din really, really didn’t want any more tree bark in the Wayfinder. So Din didn’t really know what to say.

“Hold this.” Din shoved a fish skewer into Luke’s hand. Yeah that worked.

Luke took the skewer with a hint of a smile.  “Master Yoda used to eat certain mushrooms too, I think I can safely identify them. Or maybe I could put together an aquarium in the Wayfinder and we could take more frogs with us. I bet I can repurpose one of the smaller cloning cylinders I have in the back and add a filtration system...”

Din shuddered at the thought  of living with a cloning vat filled with frogs and the likelihood of frogs, moss and tree bark for dinner several nights a week.  Just no. “This is why our people are ancient enemies,” he shuddered. “You live like animals.”

There was silence. Too long of a silence. Din looked up.

Luke was staring at him with a shocked look on his face. “Our people are ancient enemies?” He whispered.

Ah kriff. Din winced. “So I’ve heard.”

“....Oh.”  Luke looked crushed.  “Nobody told--well. There’s a lot nobody told me,” he sighed. “About being a Jedi.”

Damn damn damn. Din wanted to throw his hands up in the sky.

“I guess that makes sense,” Luke mumbled. He was fiddling with the fish skewer in his hands. “All the other Mandalorians I’ve ever met have tried to capture or kill me. I thought it was just the Bounty…”

“I’m not like other Mandalorians.”  Din interrupted, desperate to turn the conversation. It was technically true, probably just not in a way that helped their relationship. Er--their partnership?  Their--whatever this was.

“I mean I like you…”

Din froze. What.

“You’re really good at fishing and Grogu loves you.  I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Din’s heart restarted in his chest again.  Was Luke...messing with him?   “You wouldn’t leave a mark.”

Luke blinked up at him innocently and fluttered his damn eyelashes.  “I could totally kill you in your sleep.”

The little shit!  “I’ll poison your tea.”

“It’s pretty much already poison. I’m immune.”

Heh, true.  “Your fish then.”

“I’ll just go grab a frog.”

“You’re staying here and eating my damn fish!”

Luke burst out into sudden loud laughter.  It was like a sudden fierce rainstorm in the way it showered over the camp. It startled Grogu, who had been ignoring both of them in favor of playing with some shiny rocks nearby.  He tilted his head and then matched Luke’s laughter with a baby chuckle of his own.

“Sorry! I think it's just my nerves talking but that just sounded wrong and so funny--”

Din just shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had set Luke off but he didn’t care. “Crazy Jedi.”

“Trigger happy Mandalorian.”  Luke gave him a giant smile.  “Hurry up and finish this.” He gave Din back the fish skewer and chuckled again.  Despite his comment about his nerves, Luke’s shoulders were relaxed and his legs were spread out comfortably by the fire. Din could stare at his lopsided smile all evening, especially as the sun set and the fire highlighted the delight in his eyes. The sun shone through the lighter parts of Luke’s shaggy long hair. It was now untied from the neat bun it had started in and looked soft and golden in the light.

Stars above help him.  Luke was beautiful.  Din was tired of denying the thought. He wanted to touch Luke’s face with his bare hands, run his fingers through his hair and that was terrifying. He hadn’t wanted to take off his armor for anyone, besides Grogu, in ages. Maybe with Omera...but this was much different. The feelings he’d had for her were a momentary weakness compared to the colossally bad idea this was to develop an attraction for this damaged Jedi.  Din had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring.  Even if nothing happened, there was the uncertainty of the next day and the next to worry about. Luke was a marked man and every day there was a chance something could take him out. Take him away. The thought burned in him like a chemical fire inside a reactor.  Caged deep inside of him, destructive it released, and burning with an intensity greater than Din could stand.

This was why he never got involved with people before he found Grogu. He didn’t know what to do with the intensity of his feelings and how to fit them into his unpredictable life.

“Din?” Luke’s smile fell slightly. “You ok?”

“..Yeah.”  Din did what he always did. He pushed his feelings away and tried to focus on the present.  What had they been talking about? Food. He sat and thought for a moment. Maybe...

“I have a contact on Tatooine, from a rural town few people have heard of. Mos Epsa.”

“Mos Eps--I thought that was wiped from the planet years ago.” Luke looked impressed.

“It’s still there.”  Din handed Luke a cooked fish skewer and settled back with his own. “We could go there, for a while. We’d be safe. I’m assuming we can both eat Tatooine food.”

Luke picked at his fish. “I do miss blue milk.”

Good.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

Luke chuckled. “You have a list?”

“Of safe planets we can stop at. We should have alternatives to the drop pods and not be reliant on the New Republic. My list is probably different from yours so we have more options.” Din stabbed his fish a little harder with his skewer to make his opinion of Luke’s employers known.

The smile on Luke’s face got impossibly wider. “That makes sense...Thank you.”

Din grunted. The smile on Luke’s face was too distracting.  Instead he looked down at his food. Oh. Right. Damn.

Luke made the exact realization at the same time. “Sorry! I forgot, I can go back to the ship--”

“Shut up and sit down, Jetti.” Din shook his head. He only hesitated for a half second before he reached up to his helmet and unlatched it. He opened it wide enough to take a bite.

“Or you could do that. Of course.” Luke babbled.  He turned his head so he wasn’t looking at Din.  Which was sweet. But also meant he wasn’t looking at his food.

“Eat.” Din growled. “All of it.” How was it this hard to feed a grown adult? Grogu gave him less trouble. Gods help Skywalker, Din was about to channel some of the fiercest warriors he knew to get him to eat more.

Luke gave him a mock solute. “Yes sir.”

Din began to reach for his sidearm.

Luke responded with a rather unnecessarily dainty bite of fish.

Din began to unhook his blaster.

Luke nibbled at one edge of a fin.

The blaster powered up.

Luke kriffing licked his fish.

“That’s disgusting.” Din gave up. He couldn’t help it--he chuckled as he powered down his blaster.

“Yeah it is,” Luke stuck his tongue out. “Fish is gross.”

“I thought you said you’d eat anything.”

“I do. I don’t have to like it.  I didn’t grow up eating fish, it’s both slimy and spikey at the same time.”

“You eat frogs.”

“You can eat a small frog in one bite! I’ve gotten fish bones stuck in my throat.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones.”

“Nobody told me that the first time. What part of ‘raised on a desert planet’ does no one understand?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Luke sat back. “I’m done now, mom. May I go now?”

Din sighed. “No.” He held out another fish skewer.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“How hard is the har--YIKES! NO! LETGO! ARGHHH!!!!!”

‘Yup’, Din thought to himself as he held the struggling, still too skinny, Jedi in a headlock.  He had it bad and he was going to regret this.

Tomorrow. He’ll regret it tomorrow.

“DJARIN LET ME GO NOW OR YOU’RE GOING IN THE SWAMP!”

Here’s hoping the desert boy could swim.