#i love the writing in this game so so much

[lizzybeeee]

In light of recent developments, while I absolutely believe that EA have contributed to the mess that is current day BioWare, I think it's important to not just ignore BioWare's actions as a company and how that has contributed to this entire mess. The last few years have indicated that they have major problems internally with how they manage their workplace. EA is a predatory, vile company that chokes out creativity and treats their developers and customers like trash - you will not catch me defending them - but the news coming out in the past few years has not painted BioWare in a good light at all.

BioWare, as a company, from everything that has come out from ex-developers and interviews, has cultivated a toxic work culture that deserves scrutiny - that needs scrutiny. They don't value their creatives, they don't value their customers, and they think that 'BioWare magic' is an acceptable development mindset, never-mind the strain it puts on their staff.

Perhaps most alarming, it’s a story about a studio in crisis. Dozens of developers, many of them decade-long veterans, have left BioWare over the past two years. Some who have worked at BioWare’s longest-running office in Edmonton talk about depression and anxiety. Many say they or their co-workers had to take “stress leave”—a doctor-mandated period of weeks or even months worth of vacation for their mental health. One former BioWare developer told me they would frequently find a private room in the office, shut the door, and just cry. “People were so angry and sad all the time,” they said. Said another: “Depression and anxiety are an epidemic within Bioware.” “I actually cannot count the amount of ‘stress casualties’ we had on Mass Effect: Andromeda or Anthem,” said a third former BioWare developer in an email. “A ‘stress casualty’ at BioWare means someone had such a mental breakdown from the stress they’re just gone for one to three months. Some come back, some don’t.” 'How BioWare's Anthem Went Wrong, Kotaku

"Depression and anxiety are an epidemic within BioWare" -> and yet, they didn't look to fix this. Instead they kept course, trying to make that 'BioWare Magic' work.

Among those who work or have worked at BioWare, there’s a belief that something drastic needs to change. Many at the company now grumble that the success of 2014’s Dragon Age: Inquisition was one of the worst things that could have happened to them. The third Dragon Age, which won Game of the Year at the 2014 Game Awards, was the result of a brutal production process plagued by indecision and technical challenges. It was mostly built over the course of its final year, which led to lengthy crunch hours and lots of exhaustion. “Some of the people in Edmonton were so burnt out,” said one former BioWare developer. “They were like, ‘We needed [Dragon Age: Inquisition] to fail in order for people to realize that this isn’t the right way to make games.’” Within the studio, there’s a term called “BioWare magic.” It’s a belief that no matter how rough a game’s production might be, things will always come together in the final months. The game will always coalesce. 'How BioWare's Anthem Went Wrong, Kotaku

This is the same company that fired 50 of their staff and gave them severance less than the industry standard - to the point where they had to sue to get what they deserved. Not to mention that these employees had NDA's that didn't allow them to show off their most recent work on Dreadwolf which would have hurt their ability to find new employment.

“In light of the numerous recent industry layoffs and the fact that BioWare’s NDAs prevent us from showing any of our recent work on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf in our portfolios, we are very concerned about the difficulty many of us will have finding work as the holiday season approaches,” said one of the employees in the press release. “We are struggling to understand why BioWare is shortchanging us in this challenging time.” Seven Former Bioware Employees Are Suing the Company For Better Severence, IGN

The same company that on Dragon Age Day '24, released the Hawke Armour, passing it off to their players as a 'thank you' while the individual who worked on it was fired the same day.

They don't treat their developers well. They don't value their creatives. They don't see the merits of providing their employees with the respect and work culture they deserve. They don't respect their customers, either.

I have a lot of issues with the marketing for DATV and how they tried to blindside their customer base about what was in the game. The biggest example being how vague they were about world states, considering how important that is too many returning players. That information was leaked - they intended for players to not learn this till the game was in their hands. There are a dozen other statements made in interviews from devs that are misleading, considering the game I played and what they said was in it. The company found this to be acceptable behavior and it is not - it is extremely anti-consumer.

I am not saying that every issue can be handwaved away as 'bioware's workculture' as being the cause either, but it certainly would not have helped. There are lots of valid criticisms made about decisions regarding the writing, the lore/story, characters, gameplay mechanics etc...These creative and design choices should be engaged with critically by both developers and fans so they can learn and adapt for the next time - we all want a good game. I cannot imagine it would be easy to hear criticism when you work in an environment that puts crunch on a pedestal - it's a lose lose situation for the devs and the fans. This company desperately needed transparency and to earn consumer trust back after everything that happened in the past ten years - pretending things are all good and fine, waving off criticism, only to have half your staff leave or be laid off does nothing to foster confidence in your studio. It only makes me think that you're likely hiding more bad news under what was already bad.

Also, way to reassure us that 'well, we may have let go of dozens of people but Mass Effect is still coming!'. An absolutely tasteless comment and one that should have been in a separate message and not the same one addressing your 'restructuring'.

"Today’s news will see BioWare become a more agile, focused studio that produces unforgettable RPGs. We appreciate your support as we build a new future for BioWare."

How about you shift to a studio that doesn't work its employees to the bone and throttle its creatives? How about you examine how your workplace culture led to an incredibly chaotic development cycle that led to so many of your talent leaving? What about addressing the concerns of fans of your games when we talk about our criticisms with the quality of work being put out?

EA is a dumpster-fire but BioWare only added fuel to the flames. I have a lot of hang ups with DATV, especially writing-wise, but it was an uphill battle from the start. Joplin, Morrison, Dreadwolf, Veilguard...this game floundered in development hell and hemorrhaged talent with every step due to mismanagement and poor decision-making. In a string of poor decisions, Veilguard was just the final domino that led to all these built up problems crashing down.

I wish the best for the developers and writers who find themselves without a job - I hope they find a studio that values their talents and creativity far more than BioWare did. Dragon Age remains a series dear to my heart and it always will be, and I'm extremely grateful for all the people who contributed to making it that way. It's just very sad that this series has to end with Veilguard and all this ugliness.

Now that Veilguard is out, this feels like he was trying to warn us.

[corinthianism]

SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR

pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY 🫶🏼

Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?

He might just go insane.

How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.

He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.

A few words of encouragement.

A book recommendation.

A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.

He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing… but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.

The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.

His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.

Surely not.

No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.

So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.

“You should go home, darling.”

The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.

You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.

Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”

To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”

“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”

Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just… come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”

His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.

He says yes almost instantly.

It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.

The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.

Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.

Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protégé, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.

Enter, you.

Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.

It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so… privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.

But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.

Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.

Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.

It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.

“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”

He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”

“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."

“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”

Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.

Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.

“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”

His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.

“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.

“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”

“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”

“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”

“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Viktor smiles.

“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."

He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.

He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.

Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection in them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.

You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is… well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.

“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”

He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.

“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.

His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.

“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”

There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.

“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”

“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.

Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.

“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”

You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."

The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.

When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?

“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.

You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.

“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”

He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.

“I would love nothing more.”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

comfort ☄. *. ⋆

summery: you fall asleep while lando plays video games

༯ ln x reader ༘⋆

༯ fluff ༘⋆

masterlist ☾☼

honestly, you hadn't planned it. lando had been playing some video game in the living room, connected to the tv, after dinner. and you just wanted to be close to him. so, you'd done the normal thing and laid your head on his lap, and watched him die a million times in the game.

the two of you had laughed and giggled and exchanged kisses. it was a chill night, and the two of you were just happy to be in each other's presence.

you hadn't realised when your eyes began to close. the sounds of the video game and lando's muttering was comforting, and it put you to sleep.

it took lando about forty five minutes to even notice that you had fallen asleep. he was surprised you hadn't woken up during the few times he got slightly louder than normal.

"babe, i died again," lando whined.

upon receiving no response, lando leaned over to check and noticed that your breathing was even and you had fallen asleep.

making a guilty 'busted' face, lando quickly switched off the video game. the two of you had plans to watch a movie, but clearly, you were too tired for it.

lando's fingers shifted back and forth on your cheek softly, making sure that you stayed asleep as he looked around for the blanket. realising that he had the blanket wrapped around his neck, he quickly removed it and opened it up to its full length, before covering you with it.

he tried to make sure that every part of you was covered, but with your head on his lap, he couldn't move much.

"i promised we would watch a movie. i'm so sorry," lando whispered as he covered you with the blanket.

"i'm addicted to this stupid video game, im so sorry," he continued.

knowing you, he knew that your unicorn stuffed toy would be near, and found it behind your back. gently taking it, he tucked it under your arm, making you stir.

he shushed you softly. "just your unicorn," he whispered. you fell back asleep quickly.

"rest, my love," he whispered as he caressed your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear, "i'm a little exhausting, i know. i promise we'll spend the whole day tomorrow watching movies,"

"i love you," he whispered, before leaning down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you continued sleeping peacefully.

✩ ♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊���

this had absolutely nothing but vibes. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[megalony]

Pre-Exposed

This is a new, angsty Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan have a son together, and when he becomes unwell, hidden family secrets begin to surface. And Evan isn't sure he can forgive his family for the secrets they have kept from him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hooking her bag onto her shoulder, (Y/n) took a deep breath and walked away from the car. Her tongue darted out to run across her dry lips as she made a brisk walk through the school gates and followed the winding path towards the reception doors.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got a phone call from the school. Jack wasn't like other boys. He wasn't one for getting into fights or playing up, that wasn't him and he loved his school work. He was involved in lessons and had a passion for learning.

The only times (Y/n) ever got a call from the school was regarding school trips or to be made aware of something that was happening. And those calls were rare and few.

When she left work just after lunchtime, (Y/n) hadn't been expecting to get a phone call from the school telling her that Jack had fainted. Sometimes he tripped or got a graze when he hurt himself playing games during break and sometimes he was sick, but it rarely happened.

(Y/n) could count the times on one hand when she had needed to come and pick Jack up from school. That told her that this had to be worrisome.

Her hands started to clench and curl into fists as she headed through the double doors and turned towards the reception desk.

"Hi, I got a call to come down for Jack Buckley?" (Y/n) couldn't stop herself from tapping her fingers against the reception desk as she waited for the woman to look at her notes to know where Jack was.

Things like this always made (Y/n) nervous. Whenever she had to take Jack to the doctors or to any appointments, Evan was always there with her. She didn't know what to do with herself or how to stop the tension and stop from feeling so uneasy.

"He's just through here."

Rolling her lips together into a thin line, (Y/n) nodded and followed the receptionist down a short hall towards a row of rooms. (Y/n) recognised a few of them to be the teacher's offices, a supply cupboard and finally a small nurse's office.

The room wasn't very big, it was about the same size as a walk in wardrobe with two chairs in front of a computer desk and a small bed in the corner for examinations. It much resembled a compact GP room at the doctors. And there, perched on one of the chairs to the left, was Jack.

The ten year old looked worn out. He was slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees and his head bowed down. His body was jittering and lightly trembling and he looked pasty like all the colour had been drained from his body. When he tilted his head up to see who had walked into the room, a small smile pulled at his lips but it didn't make him look much better.

There was a drowsy look in his eyes that made (Y/n) fear he might be on the verge of collapsing again. He looked like he wanted to go to bed.

She hurried into the room and set her bag down on the chair next to him while she crouched down so she was in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees and she tried to smile as she looked him up and down, checking for any injuries or anything that didn't seem normal.

"What happened?" (Y/n) glanced back over her shoulder to look at the receptionist but she was surprised when Jack slumped forward until his head was resting on her shoulder. And he shakily looped his arms around her neck and leaned against her chest like he was a toddler again who wanted to be carried around.

"We're not quite sure if he fainted or fell asleep at his desk, he dropped and hit his head on the desk. And he's very lethargic."

That didn't sound good.

(Y/n) knew instinctively that Jack must have fainted. He wasn't the kind of child who would fall asleep just anywhere and not once had he ever fallen asleep in school. He didn't take naps when he was at home, Jack was such a hyper, wired boy that naps weren't something he seemed to be able to do.

And if he had slumped down and hit his head on the desk then it made sense that he would have fainted. By the looks of him he seemed like he might be within range of fainting again.

(Y/n) kissed the top of his head before she moved her hands to his shoulders and gently tried to reel him up so he was sitting straight again. But her head tilted to one side and she frowned when she watched him grimace.

"My back hurts." He muttered quietly while he kept one arm around (Y/n)'s neck and moved his other hand to point round to his back.

When (Y/n) glanced back at the receptionist, she shook her head with a blank expression and her hands tightly knitted together in front of her. He hadn't mentioned that to her or said anything about falling and hitting his back or having anything happen to his back.

(Y/n) pushed up on her knees so she could lean over and carefully roll Jacks shirt up towards his shoulders so she could check what he was talking about. Her breath caught in her lungs and her chest seemed to seize up when she looked at his back. There were bruises scattered around his lower back like splatters of paint. Some were fading from purple to pasty blue and others were a dark yellow with a green tinge, suggesting they had been there a while.

"Jack, baby, what have you been doing? Did you play-fight with someone?" Some of the bruises looked old, but others looked new.

What had he done? Had some of the other kids been picking on him? (Y/n) dreaded that thought. She didn't want to learn that other kids had been bullying Jack or else she would have to tell Evan and get him to come down to the school and have a stern word with them.

"I fell playing football with Chris." He winced as he spoke and clicked his spine into place whenhe straightened up and (Y/n) pulled his shirt back down.

He didn't see how his words caused his mum to frown in confusion. He had played football with Chris last week when they all went to the park together with Chris and Eddie. His back shouldn't be bruised this badly and the bruises should have all started to fade out by now.

Was he trying not to tell her that something else had happened? Had he forgotten that he might have bumped into something or fallen at some other point during the week?

"Okay baby, let's go home."

(Y/n) slung her bag back on her shoulder, muttering a soft 'thank you' to the receptionist while she curled her arm around Jack's shoulders and tucked him into her side. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, observing him as they headed out to the car.

He was walking like he was sluggish. If (Y/n) didn't know any better she would have thought he hadn't had any sleep last night and was running on last reserves. But she knew he had slept well, he barely managed to get out of bed this morning he had been in such a deep sleep.

The nerves building up inside (Y/n) only got worse on the drive home. Jack didn't sing along to the radio like he usually did. He wasn't nodding his head to the music or tapping his feet. He didn't try and make any conversation with her at all. He slumped down in his seat and blearily looked out the window like he had been stuck in a trance.

Once they got home, Jack turned to look up at (Y/n) with those tired blue eyes that made her want to cry. "Can I watch a movie?"

"Sure baby." She kissed his temple again, noting that he wasn't running a temperature which was one good thing at least.

She followed him inside and watched him from the living room doorway for a few moments. Jack slumped down onto the sofa with a thump and set about finding a movie on the kids channel, but he didn't look fussed. (Y/n) knew he had to be feeling unwell because he wasn't watching a new movie, he put an old one on that he had seen many times before with Evan. Clearly he wasn't interested in watching a movie, he just wanted the comfort of having something on in the background.

Her heart shuddered and squeezed tightly when she watched Jack flop onto his side a few moments later. He stretched out on the sofa with his face burrowed down into the pillow and when (Y/n) leaned over to look at him, she noticed he had his eyes closed.

He was going to sleep. He really wasn't well.

"Hey babe- buddy?" A frown pulled on Evan's features when he jogged down the stairs and caught sight of (Y/n) heading into the kitchen. But when he noticed what movie was playing on the tv and the shoes that had been kicked off near the sofa, his face morphed into confusion.

He leaned over the back of the sofa and rested his hand on Jack's arm, watching as his boy mumbled his name but didn't bother to open his eyes or look up at him.

Evan trailed his fingers along Jack's cheek and ruffled his hair before he headed into the kitchen to find (Y/n). He had expected her to be home around now, but he hadn't expected to see Jack with her. Evan was supposed to be picking him up from school in two and a half hours.

"What's he doing home, did something happen at school?"

(Y/n) felt a small swell of relief when Evan's arms encased around her middle and he pressed his lips to the back of her head, giving her a tight hug as his chest merged down against her back.

"He fainted in class this afternoon, and he's so tired." The worry was clear in her voice and by the expression on her face when she looked up over her shoulder to glance at Evan.

"Is he sick?" It wasn't like Jack to be ill at school, and Evan couldn't remember the last time he had known their son to faint for any reason.

"I don't know… can you go look at his back for me, see what you think?"

A quiet "His back?" whispered into her hair as Evan made sure he heard her right before he untangled his arms from her and trudged back into the living room. He could feel (Y/n) hovering close behind him and his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed Jack was already fast asleep, breathing softly into the cushion his face was squished into.

Crouching down beside the sofa, Evan took care to be gentle and slow as he lifted up Jack's shirt. Thankful his boy was laid on his stomach so he didn't have to turn him over and disturb him.

"Jesus, what'd he do? Has someone hit him?" The anger was present and bubbling up inside Evan's voice even as he whispered towards (Y/n) who was stood in the doorway, biting her nail out of anxious habit.

If anyone had hurt Jack or done this on purpose, there would be Hell to pay. Evan would march down to the school right now and demand to see the child and their parents if someone had done this to Jack. They had never had to worry about him being bullied before, he wasn't exactly one of the popular kids but he was gentle and kind and funny and he had his own small group of friends who he got along with.

With a deep breath, he pulled Jack's shirt back down and grabbed the cover to drape it over him if he was having a nap. He was clearly feeling sick if he was going to sleep at one in the afternoon.

When he walked back over towards (Y/n), Evan reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, anchoring her into his chest with his lips meshed up against her temple. He could feel (Y/n)'s hands gripping his biceps and her head tilted down until her lips were pressing against his throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down.

"He said it's from football, when he was playing with Chris last week, but he fell on the grass. Babe I don't think he's well, all he wants to do is sleep and he's forever got that cold."

It wasn't just today, (Y/n) had noticed Jack being sluggish and without his usual burst of energy for a while now. And he had been suffering with a cold for more than two weeks, which also wasn't like him. He seemed to be under the weather a lot just lately and (Y/n) didn't like it.

She could feel Evan's arms tightening around her as he sighed against her temple. Neither of them wanted to brush this off when something clearly wasn't right with their boy. He could just be suffering from a bad cold or the flu, but it could be an infection or a virus or an underlying cause like anaemia. They had to get him looked at.

"I'll book him in at the doctors in the morning."

***

A cold slither of dread crept down (Y/n)'s spine from the base of her neck right down to her lower back when she and Evan walked into the doctor's office.

She couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, like something was amiss but she couldn't tell what it was.

Her hand tightened around Evan's until she was sure she was about to cut off his circulation and her free hand curled around his bicep, gluing herself up into his side. She tried to smile when the doctor looked up towards them and motioned his hand towards the seats in front of his desk, urging them to sit down.

Once they were sat down, (Y/n) leaned herself to the left, pushing more into Evan's side as she tucked up against him in a vain attempt to stay calm.

"Thank you for coming in so promptly, Mr and Mrs Buckley."

"You said you had some results to talk about?" Evan looked between the doctor and (Y/n), a placid expression on his face.

He and (Y/n) had been worrying all morning about this appointment. They had gotten a phone call two days ago after they had taken Jack to the doctors last week and he had some bloods taken and an examination by the nurse. (Y/n) had been expecting to talk over the phone, she thought they would tell her Jack had a virus or he was anaemic and would need some medication.

When she was told to make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible and come down for a chat about the results, she knew. She just knew this meant something was serious.

Their only relief was that they didn't need to have Jack here at the appointment, he could go to school none the wiser that his parents would be going to an appointment with the doctor about him. He was only ten, he didn't have to be there for the consultation. But needing a chat with a doctor meant that this was serious.

"Yes, we've had the blood tests back for Jack. We ruled out anaemia and pneumonia, but there were a few anomalies so I sent them across to a colleague at the hospital in oncology for a consult."

"Oncology?"

Evan didn't like the way (Y/n) stiffened beside him and when he looked down at her, he was frightened to see the panic bubbling up in her eyes. He felt her nails scratching into the back of his hand and he leaned in closer to her side as his lips parted and a shudder ran through him.

He found himself muttering "What is that?" towards (Y/n) because clearly she knew what that meant. Evan wasn't a nurse like Maddie or a paramedic like Eddie and Hen. He didn't know all the medical jargon and that word had already gone over his head.

"No, b- but that's for cancer." (Y/n) shook her head as she spoke and she felt Evan bristle in his seat like he was turning to stone.

And when she looked up at her husband, Evan looked like all the colour had been drained from his features. He had gone positively grey as a blank look flooded his face and his baby blue eyes started to deepen as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Yes… I'm sorry, the results have come back positive for acute leukaemia. It's a form of cancer in the blood, I'm afraid it's serious."

"No, oh no."

Bile rose at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she felt her stomach churning as she turned to the left and pressed her face into Evan's shoulder. Each strangled breath she took fanned against his shoulder and into his cotton shirt. She could feel him leaning into her, his lips merged with the top of her head and his hand curved round to cup the back of her neck like he thought she was about to break into hundreds of little pieces.

She could feel Evan's hand clenching around hers, pressing so tightly he was squeezing her knuckles together and threatening to pop them out of place.

Each breath Evan took mingled in with (Y/n)'s hair and he knew a tear or two had trickled down his face into her hair.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

How could this be happening to their Jack? The results had to be wrong, but deep down, Evan knew they wouldn't be. It was a rarity that the hospital ever got any results wrong or mixed up, contrary to what some people liked to believe.

"This form is usually seen more in children, it's destroying his white blood cells which will weaken his immune system, along with affecting the way his body functions. The tiredness, easy bruising, stiff joints, long sickness, it's all symptoms."

But those were such common symptoms. They could all be accounted for by a common cold or a lack of vitamins or being anaemic. Those symptoms were relative and could be due to a number of simple, little things. Why did Jack have to have something as serious and deadly as cancer? What had he done to deserve this?

"Wh- how do you treat it?" Part of Evan found it strange that this could be considered cancer when it wasn't a lump or a tumor in Jack's blood. It was an inefficiency to produce the right cells and destroying the few good cells he did have.

Did he still need chemo or radiotherapy for something that was happening in his blood?

How were they going to explain this to him? Evan didn't want to tell Jack that he had cancer. That was the last thing any child wanted to hear and it was going to freak him out. But they couldn't exactly keep this a secret from him when they would be bringing him to the hospital for appointments and whatever form of treatment he was going to need.

"Chemotherapy is always the most direct and effective route, getting rid of the affected blood cells so proper ones can form. We'd also like to do a bone marrow transplant after chemo. All the blood is made in the marrow and if he gets healthy marrow, he can make healthy cells much quicker that way and get his body back on track."

A guttural sound emmitted from Evan's lips as he dropped his head forward into his hand. His fingers scratched into his scalp, tugging at his curls and scraping until he was sure he was drawing blood along his hairline. He could barely feel his other hand that was tangled with (Y/n)'s, they were squeezing each other's hand so tightly that there was no blood supply to either of their hands anymore.

Their boy was going to need chemo. Jack would have to come to the hospital, he would have to miss out on school and do his work from home or the hospital. He would become sick- sicker than usual. He would be run down, he wouldn't be himself. He was going to lose his hair, become weak in himself.

And they were going to have to put him through all of that if they wanted to give him a chance at surviving this.

This was going to be agony for Jack. Evan had heard about bone marrow transplants, he knew what that meant. Thick needles right into the centre of the bone to inject marrow and hope that the body would take to it and start using that marrow to produce proper cells.

That was going to be a big procedure for a ten year old. How were they going to explain any of this to him? How were they going to get Jack through this?

"So, so what, he goes on the list, for that transplant while he's in chemo? When does that have to start?"

(Y/n) kept her right hand curled around Evan's bicep and she leaned her cheek onto his shoulder, letting him do the talking as she felt like she was in some kind of bubble or trance.

Tears were silently pouring down her face and soaking into Evan's shoulder while he sat hunched forward with his left hand cradling his chin and jaw. His mind was starting to go on overdrive, something that always happened when he was nervous or panicked like this.

"We need to start chemo as early as next week, but the good news is we don't need to put him on the list." The doctor could see that this was a lot to take in, but he seemed somewhat glad that both parents were up to talking it through here and now.

It was better to talk through everything now and try to get some consultations and dates booked in as soon as possible for Jack's health. They couldn't wait and let him deteriorate, they had to get him into treatment now to give him the best chance at recovery and pushing through this.

"Why?" (Y/n) sniffed and brushed her sleeve beneath her swollen eyes while she stayed leaning into Evan's shoulder.

Was there a donor at the hospital who happened to be a match for Jack? Not needing to wait was a good thing, it meant Jack could be helped sooner rather than later and doing all the treatment now would be the most effective method for his treatment and recovery.

"Mr Buckley, your records show you are a complete match. If you'd be willing, we could use your marrow when we're ready to do the transplant."

(Y/n) swallowed deeply as she watched Evan sit up straight rather than being hunched over his knees. There was a solemn expression on his face but a faraway look in his eyes, like his body was sitting here with her but his mind was wandering somewhere else completely.

It was as if a wave of calm had washed over him and he nodded his head. If Evan was a match, then that's what they would do. It was much better having a relative donate, especially Jack's dad because that meant there was a bigger chance of his body accepting the marrow and taking it.

Evan would do anything for his boy. He would give him blood transfusions, bone marrow, he would give him a kidney if he needed it. Evan would die for him. He would do absolutely anything for his son and making Evan a full match was like fate was trying to make up for what the wrongs that they were now imposing on Jack.

"Do it."

***

(Y/n) felt like she was walking in a trance. It was how she had felt for the last few days, really. Everything she did made her feel like she was on autopilot. She cooked without really noticing what she was doing- and it was a miracle she didn't burn or cut herself with her mind being so distracted.

She tried to watch tv with Jack but the voices just turned into static in her ears and her mind started to drift off without really looking at the tv. And she could see that Evan was doing the same when he was home, it made her wonder what he was like when he was on the job.

Her hand tightened around Evan's as they stood on the doorstep and waited tiredly for Maddie to open the door.

She had been the first person they spoke to after they got the news from the doctor. They didn't know who else to call or what to do. After a lengthy chat, they had agreed to come round to see Maddie today while Jack was at school. As of next week he wouldn't be back at school, he would be spending his days at the hospital getting his first round of chemotherapy. Just the thought made (Y/n) cringe and cower down into Evan's side.

They both knew they must have looked a state when Maddie opened the door to greet them. Her eyes were glistening with tears when she looked up at her little brother and sister in law.

Maddie cocooned an arm around each of them and brought them into her chest for a hug that instantly made Evan feel a tiny bit better. Maddie always had that effect on him, she had always been that comforting, parental figure he went to whenever anything was wrong.

"Come in." She pressed a kiss to Evan's cheek before she pulled back and guided them both inside.

They were expecting to be led into the kitchen, that was always the first place Maddie went when they came over. She would either put the kettle on or source out a bottle of wine, but today she turned left and headed for the living room instead.

A cold shiver ran down Evan's spine when he walked into the living room and noticed two people sitting on the sofa. His feet became rooted to the spot and his skin started to bristle and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck up like needles. He found his fingers tightening around (Y/n)'s hand and he leaned into her side as his chest tingled and started to tighten.

"Mum? Why're you here?" Surprise flooded Evan's voice and managed to mask the uneasy discomfort that he felt at their presence.

He hadn't expected to find his parents here.

He could feel (Y/n)'s shoulders slumping down and her cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned into him a little more like her energy had suddenly been drained to nothing.

"You told them, about Jack?" There was no anger or betrayal in (Y/n)'s voice, there was hardly any emotion at all. She nodded when Maddie gave her a timid look, clearly thinking she might have overstepped a mark but if anything, (Y/n) was relieved. She wouldn't want to be the one to break this news to anyone in their family and she knew Evan would of had a hard time trying to explain this to his parents.

It had been bad enough when Evan had to tell his parents that he'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant when he was seventeen. His parents hadn't been best pleased that Evan was going to be a teenage parent, it wasn't something they had in mind for him and it didn't go with the modern family image they tried to pass off to friends and neighbours.

That was why Maddie had been more involved in Jack's life and why Evan's parents only started to get involved with him over the last few years.

Telling their parents only made this more real. (Y/n) hadn't told her own parents yet, she was waiting until next week when they were going to be coming over for a visit. This wasn't something she could tell them over the phone.

With a sigh, Evan trudged into the room and moved towards the armchair while Maddie squashed herself down next to their mum on the end of the sofa. Evan heaved himself into the chair, trying to sit up straight but all he wanted to do was melt down into a puddle and disappear. He spread his thighs and moved his hands, silently indicating for (Y/n) to sit with him rather than sitting across from him on the other armchair. He didn't want her sitting alone.

She obliged, relieved at the invitation and sank down on the end of the chair between Evan's thighs. Her back moulded up against his chest and she felt his arms curve around her waist and lock together in front of her abdomen like he was caging her in and refusing to let her go again.

"Maddie rang us, and we came straight down, oh Evan… how is he?" Margaret leaned forward and set her cup down on the coffee table before she tried to pat Evan's knee, but she could tell that the comfort wasn't welcomed.

He stiffened in his seat and shifted his leg until his mum retracted her touch. She had never been very good at comforting Evan or truly caring when he was upset and starting now simply made him feel unsettled.

He thought it was good of them to show some sort of support now though. It hadn't taken much for them to come down and see if they could help. That was more than two years ago when Evan had been in an accident and got his leg crushed by the fire truck. His parents had come down after Evan's third surgery when he was practically at the end of his recovery.

Evan wasn't sure if he was happy or enraged that they were caring about Jack more than they ever did for him. It meant they were trying with Jack, trying to get that connection and be in his life and that was good, but it reopened the wounds Evan had tried so hard to heal. The wounds they inflicted when they constantly pushed him aside and showed him how he would always be second best to them.

"Petrified." Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down a bit more.

"We've told him it's a blood disorder, we don't- we don't want anyone telling him what it is." (Y/n) tried her best not to burst into another fit of tears and she steeled her expression to try and remain calm.

They didn't want anyone telling Jack that he had cancer, not right now anyway. That would overwhelm him and scare him and they didn't want that. They wanted this treatment and recovery to be as easy as possible for Jack so they had sat him down and tried to explain that he had a blood disorder where his blood wasn't producing the right cells.

He knew he was going to the hospital from next week and he would be having medicine to try and sort it out. And when they had explained that he would have a bone marrow transplant- which they tried to explain as a blood donation to make it easier- Jack had been relieved to know Evan would be the one giving him the blood and he would be with him through the procedure.

It made Jack feel comforted to know that his dad would be experiencing something similar in the way of a donation and that his dad was helping him.

"Evan… we have to tell you something."

He didn't like the sound of that. His arms tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and his cheek pressed up against the side of her temple as he narrowed his eyes at his parents.

It wasn't often that Evan saw his mum look anxious like this. She was always uneasy, stern, usually unhappy and prickly, but she never looked worried about anything, at least not when it was concerning him. But even his dad looked uneasy right now, with one hand drumming along his thigh and the other hand entwined with Margaret's to comfort them both.

But when Evan glanced over to Maddie, his brows furrowed and he noticed his sister looked unsettled too. She was trying her best to sit still but she was starting to fidget. Maddie only fidgeted when she was hiding something, Evan knew the signs and he could see the way she had both hands tightly clasped on her lap and she was spinning the ring around her index finger. A nervous habit she had never gotten out of.

Suddenly, Evan wasn't so sure that he wanted to hear whatever they had to tell them.

"This leukaemia, it- it… little Jack might have it because it runs in the family." Margaret couldn't find it in herself to look at Evan, the guilt was evident in her eyes and so she looked down at her hands instead. Noticing how much she seemed to have aged in the last few years.

Had this moment come round already? Since the moment Evan had been born, Margaret had been dreading the time when they would have to tell him the truth about his birth and his life. She always thought that this moment was so far away, but it had finally caught up to them.

"What? Who else had it?" Confusion plastered across Evan's face as he tried to wrack his brain to work out who in the family had ever had leukemia.

Aunt Lisa had breast cancer, Evan remembered that vividly from childhood because his mum had spent two weeks out of town to look after her sister. And he was sure Phillip's dad had suffered with some ailment before he died, but Evan couldn't think what exactly had been wrong with his grandad.

Evan never saw his grandparents very often, Maddie had always been closer to the rest of the family than Evan was. But he didn't know of anyone close who had this form of cancer, and it had to be someone close in the family for his parents to think that it was why Jack now had this too.

"Your brother."

(Y/n) couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips and she huffed, looking between Maddie and her in-laws with disbelief welling up in her eyes. If this was them trying to make light out the situation then (Y/n) didn't find it helpful nor amusing.

What the Hell were they talking about? (Y/n) had known Evan since he was fifteen and not once had he, his parents or anyone in their family referred to any brother.

"Look, if this is some kind of joke I don't find it very funny."

"No Evan, this isn't a trick. We, we had a boy before you, when Maddie was two. Daniel."

"Maddie please…" The desperation in Evan's tone had tears welling up in Maddie's eyes and she coiled her arms tighter into her waist as she winced.

He was begging for her to tell him that this was some kind of sick joke that clearly wasn't funny. He wanted her to explain, to say that their parents were having some kind of stroke and none of this was real.

How could they have had a son before Evan and not told him? How could they have kept this from Evan his whole life? No pictures around the house of him. No acknowledging his birthday or his memory. No mourning or griving for him over the years. Not even telling Evan one memory about him. That was sick.

If Evan and (Y/n) had more kids but lost Jack, they would never just erase him from their memory and pretend he hadn't existed. He was their son, he was their world and if something happened to him they would want to keep his memory alive, not bury those memories along with him.

It took all of Evan's effort to stay sitting and stop from bolting up from the chair and walking away. He had to tighten his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and pin his chest into her back until he could scarcely breathe in order to remain in control of himself and stop from exploding.

"He got diagnosed when he was seven, we tried chemo, but it was aggressive. He needed marrow, and stem cells, so we, well, it was a hard decision, but we…"

"Evan's a donor baby?" Shudders crept up and down (Y/n)'s spine as she glared at her in-laws who she barely recognised.

"Yes."

How could they do that to him?

(Y/n) had always seen it. From the moment she met Evan's parents, she had seen how they treated him. He wasn't abused, but he wasn't loved or treated with much respect either. (Y/n) saw how Evan hurt himself, he purposely fell from trees, had skateboard accidents and broke his bones in order to get some ounce of love from them.

It was clear to see that they valued Evan as an ornament in their family, but as a son, they couldn't love him like they did with Maddie. When Evan told them (Y/n) was pregnant, they had been less than understanding. Evan was ruining their image and the ideals they had about the life he would lead.

And now it all made sense. Evan hadn't been a child they longed for, he was a tool to protect and save their other son. He had been a remedy that didn't work and they couldn't bring themselves to grow to love him when they never really wanted him in the first place.

"And it didn't work?" Evan unlocked one arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could run his hand up and down his chin and jaw, tracing the stubble he was beginning to grow.

"We were heartbroken, and we didn't want you knowing the real reason why we- why we had you�� so we thought we best not tell you."

"Are you sick?"

The cynical tone to Evan's voice made his mother visibly flinch and caused his father to shake.

What did they think they were doing? Why did they think keeping this from him was the 'normal' thing to do? Surely they would have known that they couldn't hide this from Evan forever, this couldn't have been kept a secret for his whole life.

If Evan had known the truth, he would have understood. He would have realised why his parents couldn't love him like they did Maddie. He would know why looking at him made them flinch or brought an old sense of sorrow to their eyes. He would never have tried to hurt himself to gain their love if he knew the reason why he was alive and the brother he never knew.

Evan would have let them treat him badly, he would have accepted that they couldn't love him and he would of had more respect for himself. He wouldn't have grown up believing something was wrong with him if he knew.

"Buck, he died." Maddie's voice broke as she tried to stay calm and collected. "When you told me the other day about Jack, I had to tell them in case he has it because of Daniel."

"You let me grow up believing I wasn't good enough, and all the time you knew why I was treated like that?" Evan's voice rose with every syllable until he was practically shouting at his sister, the woman who had raised him since he was a toddler whose parents couldn't be bothered with him.

All this time. All his life, Maddie had known. Every time Evan asked what was wrong with him, what he did to upset their parents, why they couldn't love him. And all those times Maddie told him he hadn't done anything, she lied and said they did love him in their own way. She even said she didn't know why they were sometimes cold-hearted towards him.

She had lied to Evan every day of his life.

All this time Evan felt like such a burden on Maddie. He felt like she had been forced to become a teenage parent, that she was forced to love him and bring him up because their parents simply wouldn't do the job themselves. Evan felt so guilty and bad for Maddie. He never needed to feel like that.

If he knew the truth he wouldn't have been craving love and attention so much, he wouldn't have relied on Maddie so much. He wouldn't have felt guilty because Maddie was the one with the guilt. She was the one who felt guilty for lying to him, she chose to care for him, she chose to comfort Evan when he was upset.

"I couldn't tell you-"

"Bullshit Maddie." The snide words snapped at Maddie and caused her to quiver and sink back into the sofa.

Evan felt himself starting to shake when (Y/n) slithered out of his arms and stood beside the chair instead. She had far too much adrenaline rushing through her to sit still and she could feel Evan bubbling up like a volcano that was about to explode.

"Why did you watch?" Evan's words confused Maddie who frowned and shook her head, for she didn't know what that implied. "You watched me hurt myself. You watched me break my ankle, my arm, I cracked my ribs, I got concussed. I nearly got fucking runover and you watched! You watched me do that for their fucking love. You think I would have tried so hard if I knew the truth? I wouldn't have done any of that."

If Evan knew the truth he would never have hurt himself. He would never have played so dangerously as a child. He wouldn't have skated on the roads, he wouldn't have climbed the tallest trees, held his breath and then allowed himself to fall. He wouldn't scrape his knees and break his bones and cry his heart out to get some sort of love from their parents.

If he knew the truth, Evan would have let things be as they were. He would have accepted the fact that their parents couldn't bring themselves to love him. He would have realised that hurting himself would make their parents fret and fear rather than making them care. They were worried they would lose another son, they weren't suddenly loving Evan like he believed.

Maddie should have told him, but instead she watched him. She stood by and allowed Evan to be reckless and hurt himself and scream and beg for their parent's love and attention.

Evan was sure that Maddie tried to whimper "I'm sorry." But it came out as a blundering cry more than a few broken-hearted words.

He pushed up from the armchair, hands balled into fists and his whole body reduced to trembling as he tried to decide whether he wanted to stand here and argue or turn and walk away. Leaving might have been a better option, but there was still so much more that Evan wanted to say, and he might not have these feelings and this courage to speak again.

Nothing passed Evan's lips when he glanced over towards his wife and realised (Y/n) was silently crying. Tears were streaming down her face and her eyes were starting to swell as she bound her arms around her waist and looked at his parents with such torment and anger in her eyes that Evan barely recognised her.

His hand reached out for her arm and he was relieved when (Y/n) moved her hands and clung to his arm rather than pulling away from him. But she wouldn't look at him. Her eyes were solely focused on his parents who were turning redder by the second and who were starting to cry too.

"You… don't- don't you see what you've done?" She did her best to steel her voice but it didn't work very well. "We didn't know t- the symptoms. If you told us we might have been more aware, more cautious… Evan, he… he's been so sick, and we…"

She couldn't finish her sentence.

They hadn't known.

Jack's symptoms were so generic and easily misconstrued as a simple cold or illness. But if they had known that leukaemia ran in the family, that Evan's own brother had died from it, then they would have been more aware. They would have known what symptoms to look out for.

They could have told their doctor when Jack was born and at his check ups, it could have been on his file as something to be aware of and look out for. He could have gotten help before now if they had known they were pre-exposing him to this form of cancer.

Guilt dwelled in Evan's stomach like hundreds of stones settling in his abdomen and crushing everything inside of him.

He turned to the right, cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck as he pressed a wet, shaking kiss to her temple. He had pre-exposed Jack to this and he had no idea. Jack had gotten this from Evan, from his side of the family. Evan should have known, he should have been more aware.

"It's not your fault-"

"No. It's yours."

Tears continued to fall down Maddie's face as she gasped and pressed one hand to her chest where it felt like her heart was physically breaking into thousands of little pieces. It felt like a glass heart had shattered and each fragment was now coursing through her blood, splitting her apart from the inside out.

She hadn't meant any harm. She had been told not to tell Evan and how could she go against their parent's wishes?

"Someone should have told me."

This wasn't about Evan anymore, this was about Jack. Evan could just about grasp the fact that they had lied to him all his life, but when they knew that Evan could potentially expose Jack to this illness they should have spoken to him. He was seventeen when they had Jack, he was more than old enough to understand and to take in all that information.

He should have been told so he knew how to protect his son and what signs to look out for so Jack could be kept safe. Chances were that Jack did have this because it ran in the family and had been passed down.

"We kept this secret for so long-"

"When we had Jack one of you should have explained this to me! You all watched him grow up, you knew I was pre-exposing him to this and you didn't tell me. We could of had him tested! We could of monitored him a-and had some kind of awareness. But you just stayed silent and watched from the moment he was born."

Evan's right arm was encased against (Y/n)'s chest, but he moved his other hand to grip the back of his neck. He could feel his short nails puncturing through the skin, scratching at the short hairs and gathering flecks of skin beneath his nails. But it didn't do much to calm him down.

All of Evan's life, all of Jack's life, they had been lied to. Ten years, they had sat by and let Evan raise Jack in blissful ignorance that there could be anything wrong or underlying with him. They watched for a whole decade as Jack grew up and they never once told Evan that something might be amiss, that there could be something passed down to him.

If Evan kept a secret from Maddie he felt like his intestines were churning themselves into knots and he always felt his body prickling with heat and his heart had palpitations when he thought about what he was hiding from her. He thought she felt the same. But how could she when she had gone over twenty years without telling Evan the biggest secret in their lives?

When Maddie stood up, Evan glared down at her. His upper lip curled into a tight grimace and his nose crinkled as he wondered who on Earth was stood in front of him right now.

Whenever she tried to comfort him growing up, Evan always felt like he was home, like he was safe. Not this time. This time, as Maddie brushed her hand along his arm and tried to cup the sides of his neck, all Evan could feel was dwelling uncertainty and revulsion.

As Evan grew up and started to grow taller, Maddie started to loop her arms around his neck or she would pull on his shoulders to drag him down to her height for a hug. They both secretly loved that he was the little brother and yet he was tall and broad and could envelope Maddie in a hug.

But as Maddie tried to nudge Evan's neck and pull him down for a hug like she always did, her lower lip wobbled and a broken sound left her lips when Evan didn't budge. He tensed his neck and tilted his chin back, fighting off more tears as he refused to look at her.

She couldn't hug away the guilt she felt and she couldn't expect Evan to sit down and accept this like he accepted every other wrong-doing in his life.

This was different; this involved Jack.

Reaching behind his neck, Evan held Maddie's hand with a strange tenderness but she hated how he pulled her touch away and dropped her hand back towards her. He didn't want her to hug him. He didn't want their parents to try either because he could see they were now both stood up and trying to inch closer.

The slightest touch of Margaret's hand on Evan's shoulder made him recoil and stumble into (Y/n) as he tried to step back. Her touch had never been comforting since he was a child and right now it repulsed him.

"Don't touch me." The way Margaret uttered his name in despair didn't make Evan feel anything but anger. She had no reason to be so upset when she had brought this on herself. All three of them had.

His hand tightened around (Y/n)'s and he nudged her back until she took the hint and started walking towards the doorway with Evan close behind. They weren't staying here any longer. They needed to go home and talk and process this before they had to collect Jack from school and act like their world hadn't just been twisted into an alternate dimension.

"We're leaving. And don't think you're gonna see Jack on this shitty little visit, not after this." The way Evan pointed at his parents made both of them stutter and gasp and his mother seemed to clasp her hands in front of her like she was suddenly going to pray for his forgiveness.

"Evan, please!"

He had never heard his father say his name in such a desperate manner or sound like he was begging him. It was so strange that Evan almost felt like he was in a dream. But he wasn't going to relent and he knew by the way that (Y/n) squeezed his arm and kissed his shoulder that she felt the same.

They had come here solely to drop this bombshell and explain what they had done wrong. They weren't here to see Jack or ask how he was or what kind of treatment he needed, that came second. What they prioritised was earning Evan's forgiveness minutes after unloading their guilt onto him.

That wasn't how it worked. They couldn't do this and then expect they could still see Jack. Evan wouldn't let them near his son, not until this had all cleared up and Evan found a way to forgive them. Maddie, he would forgive. In a day or two, he would see reason and allow his guard to drop, but he wasn't sure when- or indeed if, he would ever be able to truly forgive his parents for this.

Evan was about to walk through the doorway when he turned after a second thought and glanced over his shoulder at the three of them. "You know, I may not have been good enough to save this brother I never knew, but I'll be damned if I can't save my boy. This time, my blood's gonna be enough."

Evan's sole purpose when he had been born might have been to save his brother, but his purpose now was to save his son.

And he wouldn't let Jack down.

[midnite-c6]

Heyyy! I just wanted to say I love your writing!! And I was wondering if I could request VIP!thanos x reader x VIP!Namgyu ?? I haven’t seen anyone write something like this yet and I think you’d write it so well😚 thank youuu❤️

ugh. yes. this. to pink guard, to frontmen and now to VIPs, god those pervy ones in season 1 really fit their essence!! this is also for the ones who wanted bukkake of the two! <3

VIP!thanos & VIP!nam-gyu x reader !!<3 warnings: 18+, DARK content, noncon, sa, sex, public space, threesome, no aftercare, degradationnnn (pls read at ur own risk!!)

つ⁠｡⁠☆ your broke ass was looking EVERYWHERE for a job... luckily! a man with dressed in a suit gave you a special card to call. boom. you're hired. but not as one of the guards, not as one of the players, but simply a servant, more of a maid. instead of being in any involvements during the games, you'd be cleaning up the soldiers rooms, washing the sheets for the 456 players who'd lay down on the beds, to think, the games were actually pretty clean and organized.

but... now it's your time to shine, since now the VIPs would come and visit. the frontman would prepare the small watching area for the VIPs, this was the first time you ever caught a glimpse of what was actually happening during the games, you thought it was some low quality TV show before, not realizing it was way darker than that. it made you quite shocked, and scared, duh.

the VIPs were loud and talkative, with their fancy suits, sure, but the ones in the corner were just full-on distracting! both had golden masks, a dog and a cat, they even seemed like bestfriends. "hey, pst, maid, c'mere." the one with the tattooed hand would signal you to come over, you were hesitant, but you decided to join them nonetheless. carefully walking over to not spill the tray you were holding onto. "a shot of vodka, please." the one with the cat mask hummed, offering his glass so you could refill it. you'd turn your face to the man in the dog mask, a much more deeper voice, he had the hand tattoos too. "babe, which player do you think will last the longest? bet on it, if you will." you shrugged, you weren't really trained to talk to the people you were serving at, especially in these type of games. he wasn't slow to surprise you, giving you a smack in the ass, making you yelp out loud. but only as much as they're the only ones to hear. "ah!"

"talk. i want you to talk. don't be boring.." he nudges your stomach, trying to annoy you even more. you really want to punch him, this guy's nerve. but the frontman was looking directly at you, if you were to do anything absurd, there's no doubt you'd get a bullet through your head. "just give us a damn number, woman, is it so hard?" the man in the cat mask groaned. he had less of a deep voice, sounding much more sly and snarky, like it was meant to push you over. "don't pressure," the tattooed hand would make way to touch your face, you were masked aswell, the frontman had his ideals in not to provide any information of the workers to the viewers and participants. "take this off? i'm sure you're pretty without it, hm?" you quickly shake your head! you can't do that! "fuckin' idiot, you remember what the guy said? no taking off masks." the cat was definitely much more grounded. "oh yeaah, whatever, nam-su. fuckin' stupid idea, but..!" "nam-gyu." the other one corrects, guess the guy wearing the cat mask was named nam-gyu? why do you care about this now? ..when the unnamed one has his hands now moving to your neck.. then to the sides of your chest, your body was shaking.. "they wouldn't mind if i take this off, huh?"

you didn't wanna strip! of course that wasn't in your plans, ever, even if it was in the darkest corner of the room! "i can see your eyes, all worried, sososo cute." he giggles, nam-gyu would sigh, "it's too easy," "right? m'sure it is, you getting turned on by masked men, honey?" this guy was getting on your last nerve. shut up! "let's make it a bit more challenging for me then." as if, as if you were turned on right now, as if you didn't tremble at the sound of his deep voice. "just say a number of a player, someone you'd think would survive!" you quietly mumble, not wanting any other servants or your boss to hear, "sir.. i.."

he cuts you off, with a warning. "...and if he dies, we'd get to fuck your cute little body, 'kay? make a wise decision." "and if she gets lucky? we'll just be blue-balled, idiot. thanos the legend my ass." his name was thanos ?? "shut up, jeez." was this even fair? no way! you shake your head, not wanting to do whatever they say. thanos would only scoff, flicking your forehead. "you're a servant here and you don't serve? are you dense?" this wasn't in anything you signed up for. "hey, man, we can take her to the bathroom later, yeah?" nam-gyu would question the black-masked man, you turn your head to face him, he surely knows what that implied.. but it broke your heart into pieces when he'd nod, not caring about you :(. poor you.

you look at the big window outside, quickly muttering out a number, you'd only pray that they'd live for the whole entirety of the round.

nope, the player didn't survive. (⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

nsfw below!! ->

as they both promised, carrying you out to the small bathroom stall strictly for VIPs, your squirms and attempts to escape were no match to their strength, especially thanos'.

"fucking hell! these masks were making me sweat." nam-gyu would take off his mask, forehead sweaty, he had soft yet sharp features, he looks young too. "let- let me go!' you'd see him look down on you and laugh. wow, it felt much more humiliating this way. thanos would toss his mask out aswell, flashing you with his purple hair. "looks like we won the bet, babeee." fuck, these were handsome men, who look like they're high as hell, but handsome nonetheless. "i'm sure you're not even thinkin' about it like it's a punishment."

thanos would quickly rip off the black tights you were assigned to wear, ripping off the black body-con dress that fit the aesthetic of the frontman's taste. he'd bite his lips, seeing the wet patch forming at the center of your panties, he politely moves them aside instead of ripping them off! still, he'd shamefully slide his fingers onto your slick, making you unfortunately moan in front of him, he'd take a lick at the residue that would stay on his fingers. "you like? you taste like you do." he asks, before diving in to give a generous lick on your pussy, licking the juices off clean, what the hell "stop-" you whined. he'd bite your clit in response, making you whine even louder, "if you didn't want this you prolly would've guessed better." making it sound like it was your fault, ultimately.

nam-gyu would move underneath the two of you, he was as aggressive as thanos, tearing more of your stockings, just to feel your pretty ass bare. his hands would grope roughly. "you used to takin' two?" he asks, into your ear. even at this point, you didn't wanna entertain them at all, "jesus." his grip on you would tighten. why was he so pissed all the time? "i'll fuck you with no prep, just answer, damn." his grip was now starting to hurt even more. "n-no! no. i'm not.. i'm not used to two." "yeah. was that so hard?" you shake your head. "no..no.." he was too rough, he makes the purple-haired one look gentle.

turns out, their idea of "prep" was just spitting on your trembling pussy, before putting out their dicks to simply put inside you! thanos was too teasy about it, he'd have the tip of his dick brushing against your pussy lips, slightly pushing past your hole, but he'd pull out quickly, leaving you to clench against thin air. "nn... please..." as much as you didn't want to, he'd make your subconscious beg for it! to beg for more! "beg more, baby, let me hear." "please, pleas-! hoh- fuck!" and when you did beg for more... nam-gyu, who was underneath you, would fully push inside your other hole, leaving a loud groan to echo your ears. "so tight, holy fuck. not used to anal?" you nod, it was pretty obvious. though that didn't stop him from starting a brutal pace, leaving you moan out from the pain and stinging feeling, whining about how it hurts too much... "stop bitching around, and take it, that's all your good for, yeah?" all the while, thanos's dick would teasingly brush against your clit, giving it the slightest bit of attention.

and when thanos would feel generous enough to slide inside your needy cunt, who was aching for his dick to finally be shoved, prepare for the thick loads of seed to be inside you, i mean, he seems pent up all the time. the sight of leaking cum out of you, juicing their balls dry, was too rewarding. "ah bro, i feel like a true VIP now," thanos would laugh. "she's beginner at best, i woulda paid less." that hurt a bit... still, they'd take turns to fuck your cunt and ass, dumping their load inside, leaving your body to become a container of their white sticky juice, you'd pass out from the contact, losing breath, and the compact space. :< "we'll come back again, okay?" "we already trained you for next time. don't forget."

now you're left in the VIP bathroom, your unconscious body lying on the tiled floor, they didn't even take the time to take off your mask to see your pretty face :(. you were only two holes to them </3.

war is almost over for me, my training is almost over 💓 i'll be free to write moreeeee

[ficsbyrike]

Your Possessiveness Will be the Death of Me

pairing: caleb x reader

TW: graphic descriptions of blood and injuries, toxic relationships

Summery: caleb won’t let you go to the hospital

Word count: 3,833

Notes: I promised someone that my next Caleb fanfic would be fluff but apparently I am incapable of writing anything happy 😭😭 might be a little ooc

A wanderer. Claws. The stinging feeling on your abdomen. The rest was a blur.

The city had recently become more dangerous with an increase of wanderer sightings. You thought—foolishly—that because of your hunter training, this wouldn’t affect you in any significant way. More on site work, perhaps, but nothing more than a minor inconvenience. It never occurred to you that you could become a victim of a wanderer yourself.

You had been walking down the street when out of nowhere, in a cruel sneak attack, a wanderer had jumped out and ambushed you. Rendered defenseless for a few moments, it was able to leave a pretty nasty gash on your abdomen before it was promptly dealt with.

It stung badly.

It felt as if the sky was very low. It was cold as shit out. You could see your hot breath rise up in puffs of white through the inky black sky, and as if the universe conspired to spite you even more, it had begun snowing.

Your blood glistened brightly in the neon lights of the city.

It was around 2:30 in the morning. You have to be up early tomorrow. God…

You raked your brain for a moment. The warm blood seeping between your fingers made it hard to focus.

Linkon Hospital was too far away for you to walk to without collapsing half way through. And, in some cruel joke, your phone had been smashed on the pavement while you were fighting the wanderer so there was no way you could call anyone for help.

You only had one option. But it was your last resort.

Caleb lived close by, but he didn’t want to see you. It wasn’t just a hunch or a feeling, you knew. Although he didn’t outright say it, you ended on pretty bad terms last time you saw each other. Regrettable words were thrown, tears were shed. Even though Caleb tried to explain himself—why he left, why he lied about being dead—you called the conversation there, saying you weren’t in the mood to fight anymore. Since then, Caleb has sent you countless text messages in hopes of staying in touch. At first, he would apologize continuously. Then, when he perhaps realized that his attempts were futile, he resorted to simply sending short messages about how his day went, what interesting things he saw today, and good morning good night texts. You pridefully ignored all of the messages. They angered you, even. You felt as if he was trying to guilt you into forgiving him by using his status as a long-time best friend and pretending like nothing was wrong.

He knows what he did. And you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

With those thoughts in mind, you promptly blocked his number until further notice. Although sometimes you wondered whether he was still sending you messages despite knowing they weren’t getting through to you.

If you showed up at his door now, would he turn you away? Even if he was angry at you, he wouldn’t turn away a shivering, injured woman. Right? But even if he didn’t, it would be so awkward to confront the issue with him again. Perhaps you just won’t say anything unless he brings it up himself. Still, he could simply shut the door in your face and leave you on the street. And he had every right to do so, with the way you’ve been treating him. You probably would have done the same in his situation. Probably.

Swallowing your last bit of pride, you began shuffling over to Caleb’s residence, your hand pressed tightly against the fresh wound. He had sent you his new address during one of his routinely text messages, and you had unconsciously memorized it because it was a part of town you always passed by to get to the train station.

With every step you took, you felt pressure in your wound. It would open up again and again and fresh blood would seep in between your fingers. This only made you more antsy and you felt your heart speed up.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long walk, you finally stood at the front door of Caleb’s house. It was cute. A townhouse surrounded by similar looking buildings in the middle of the city. Even though the others had distinctions about them—flower beds hanging out windows, chairs and fairy lights dotting the balconies—Caleb’s house was the one with the least character. It stood there, gray with no lights in any of the windows, as if he had only just moved in a few days ago.

You brought your hand up to knock on the door, but then you hesitated. You were angry at him, but that was fine because you knew that sooner or later you would forgive him. But you couldn’t have the same assurance that he would forgive you.

You shook your head, eracing the image of Caleb’s darkened eyes from your mind, and knocked.

Whatever happens happens.

For a few moments, there was silence. It would only be natural if he had gone to sleep, considering the deep hours of the night. But then, to your surprise, you heard the noise of shuffling coming from the inside, followed by another short silence. Just as you thought that he was ignoring you, the door swung open, revealing Caleb’s tall frame in the doorway.

He was a bit paler since the last time you saw him. And a bit thinner too. You guessed it was just in your nature to worry about him, as you had done so many times in the past.

It was still cold as shit out. Your thin hunter uniform is doing little to protect you from the chilly air. But somehow, your skin still felt hot. Snowflakes still slowly glided down into your hair.

You cleared your throat, “Caleb.”

Just as the words had left your mouth, you wished for the earth below you to open up and swallow you whole. You come to his front door in the middle of the night looking like hell—exhausted, dirty, blood pouring out of your side and your nose—and the only word you can manage is his name? Were you stupid?

You scanned Caleb’s eyes for any emotions. Was he angry? Or at least disappointed in you?

He didn’t speak for a moment, his gaze falling onto your wound. You shifted self consciously.

“What happened to you?”

His question caught you off guard, prompting you to look up at him again.

“I got into a fight.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit,” he said, and you sighed.

Surely this was the same Caleb you knew. He wouldn’t just leave you out here.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

You swiftly shake your head.

“It's minor. I’m not crippled. I’ll live,” you lie through your teeth, “can I crash at your place? I’ll be out of your hair by morning. It’s really cold out here.”

You dragged your one of your hands against the bottom of your nose, smudging the blood pooling there.

Caleb stepped aside, a familiar smirk decorating his face, “be my guest.”

***

Caleb’s residence was just as barren inside as it was outside. Only the bare necessities scattered his living room. But it was warm.

You tried taking off your shoes, but with your wound, it was a little hard to do. Once Caleb saw you struggling, he quickly leaned down and helped you.

“Thanks. Do you by chance have any disinfectant? And some gauze?”

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt.”

“No. It seriously doesn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me missy. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Go sit on the couch.”

You did as he commanded, stumbling over to the couch before sitting down. Momentarily, there was the sound of running water and soon enough, Caleb came back with a clean, wet towel. He tried to gently lift up your shirt, but your hand stopped him.

“I’m fine. Really. Can I sleep on your couch? I’m really tired.”

Caleb’s worried eyes met yours, “you are not fine. You’re bleeding all over my floor. Stop being so stubborn and work with me here, yeah?”

He spoke in that same friendly voice, but it was obvious that there was concern in his expression.

You gently let go of his wrist with some hesitation, biting your bottom lip as he pulled your shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the couch next to him. Your wound was now completely exposed, along with your bare stomach. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but just having the wound out in the open was enough to put you on edge.

He inspected your injury. His brow furrowed before he brought the damp towel to your skin. You hissed and recoiled slightly. Caleb flinched, but held the towel gently in place.

“Sorry pipsqueak. It’s gonna hurt no matter what. Just… squeeze my arm if it gets too much.”

You didn’t say anything.

Caleb’s touch was warm. You felt his soft fingers on the tender skin of your side. It almost made you shiver.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? Any later, and you would’ve bled out on the goddamn street,” he murmurs, and for a moment, you didn't know how to reply.

“My phone broke,” You say dumbly.

Then there was silence for a few moments. It was quiet. The only sound was his steady breathing and the clock ticking as the seconds slipped by.

“Are you angry?” You ask when he didn’t say anything.

Caleb shook his head, “no. You have every right to want to avoid me,” he sighed, “I just wish I wasn’t your last option.”

Silence again. Tik-tok… tik-tok…

“I thought you might turn me away,” you finally admitted.

“You know I wouldn’t let you bleed out on my doorstep. No matter how angry I get at you.”

“No, I don’t know that,” you whisper, “I feel like I don’t really know you anymore…”

Caleb finally looks up at you, a hint of hurt betrayed in his eyes, “Do you think… you think I changed that much?”

“I don’t know. But the Caleb I knew would never pretend to be dead for a whole year, leaving me by myself. So, yeah… I guess I don’t really know you anymore.”

“You had other people to turn to for help.”

“Sure. But in the end, who’s taking care of me?”

Caleb sighs again and turns back to your wound. Although he is trying to seem preoccupied, you can tell that he has a lot on his mind.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” he finally says, “for now, let’s take care of your wound, yeah? The bleeding hasn’t stopped yet. I’ll need some water to wipe you down and see how deep your injury really is. Let me take you to the bathroom. It’ll be easier to do this there.”

Caleb helps you up. Then, he helps you walk over to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your upper torso firmly but gently. Then, when he’s sure that you are able to stand upright on your own, he meticulously picks out the temperature of the water, making sure it’s not too hot or too cold.

He soaks the towel under the thin stream of water. Your old blood dyes the sink red, leaving a gruesome sight.

You feel dizzy from the blood loss. And slightly sleepy too. You grab onto the edge of the skin in an attempt to pull yourself together. The dim, buzzing light and the splashing of water continuously lull you to sleep.

Finally, when Caleb decided that he got most of the blood out from the towel, he wrings it, and brings it up to your wound again.

You take a sharp breath, colorful curses spilling out of your mouth unchecked, “haah… Caleb…”

He gently wipes away at the edges of the wound, trying hard to be as tender as possible. Despite this, he cleans up your wound with practiced efficiency leaving you to wonder how many times he has patched himself up during dark nights like these.

“You’re doing well,” Caleb says, running the towel under clean water again.

The cycle repeats a few times. By the time Caleb deems that he had cleaned the wound thoroughly enough, you are standing there, subtly trembling in pain. The sink, the floor, and both yours and Caleb’s hands are covered in your blood. You hope that it looks worse than it actually is.

“How is it?” You ask finally.

Caleb rustles through one of the storage compartments, and takes out fresh white gauze. However, your blood on his hands stains it as soon as he touches the bandages.

“It’s pretty deep. You’ll need to take it easy for a while,” he says.

Gritting your teeth as he wraps the gauze around your abdomen, you hold your breath.

“Relax,” Caleb utters, “the worst part is over.”

He wraps the gauze around you a few more times before securing it with a little bow at the end.

“There. Good as new.”

He lets out a sharp sigh, dusting his hands off like a mechanic, and straightens out to look at you again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. But I’m worried. Should I go to the hospital?”

“No need. I’m here to take care of you, right?”

You nod.

You didn’t know what came over you then, but your body acted faster than you could think. You placed your hands on either side of his face and planted a small kiss on the edge of his lips.

He seemed stunned for a minute.

“You know I missed you, right?” You whisper, your fingers gently running through his raven hair.

“I thought you hated me,” he breaths.

“I do. But I can do both at the same time. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I missed you too.”

“I hope you never leave again. Because I won’t forgive you a second time.”

Caleb’s eyes flicker before he leans in closer and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

God, it was as if you were made for each other.

All of these years of yearning to the most recent worries that plagued your mind came bubbling up to the surface until they finally exploded like a volcano.

He wraps his arms around you. The need for him to be closer to you became stronger, to the point where it was almost animalistic. Your exhales became his inhales as he pushed you up against the skin, deepening the kiss. Your fingers tangled within his hair, and his hands slowly mapped out the bare skin of your back. You couldn’t help but shiver.

You hated him so much. But God… it was impossible to stay away. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, knowing that nothing good was going to come out of this. Maybe he would hurt you again. Maybe you were stupid to come running back to him at the first sign of affection. But that didn’t matter at this moment. Right now, you only knew him. He was your world. And you were his.

“Wait, wait. Caleb,” you gasp suddenly, “fuck.”

Caleb immediately steps back as if he was burned.

“What’s wrong?”

You look down at your wound. It was still bleeding. A faint dark red color peaked out from behind the bandages, a signal to it probably opening up again.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay. It’s very late. We’re both not in our right mind,” you say, heart still hammering in your chest.

Caleb hesitantly nodded. His face and t-shirt was smudged with the blood that undoubtedly came from your hands.

“Maybe I should go to the hospital,” you say again.

A dull throb pulsed over where your wound was, and although you trust that Caleb did a good job of cleaning it, you knew that he wasn’t a medical professional. Maybe you needed stitches. It would be a shame if you bled out in Caleb’s apartment for no reason other than your own carelessness.

“Damn it,” He curses, “I should’ve been more careful, you’ll bleed through these bandages too.” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re probably right, but I’ll be honest, I’m not really comfortable with letting you out of my sight just yet. I just… just let me try to add a few more layers of gauze, yeah? And if that doesn’t work, we’ll figure things out from there.”

Caleb takes out more gauze and wraps it around your lower torso again, a bit more tighter this time. He steps back to inspect how much of the gauze has already been bled through, his brow furrowing.

“Damn it…” he mutters.

You put your hand on his arm to stop his continuous fidgeting, “Caleb. Calm down.”

“You’re right. No… I just… You’re bleeding. How are you still bleeding? I’ve never seen you be this chill about an injury before. You remember when you were learning how to ride a bike when we were kids? You would cry so hard when you so much as scraped your knee against the pavement and would run to grandma so she could comfort you.”

“I remember. You were not the best teacher. It’s a miracle I haven’t gotten my front teeth knocked out.”

“You were sensitive as a kid.”

“I grew out of it.”

“Apparently.”

There was another pause. It seemed that every time you and Caleb found a common ground, there was something that would always bring you back and remind you that everything had changed. He was not the reckless little boy from your childhood that you remember. And, in turn, you were not the sensitive little girl that he remembers.

When did everything become so different?

Caleb’s apartment suddenly became cold again.

Caleb shook his head before speaking, “never mind. Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know if I can stomach anything right now.”

There was a beat of silence again, as if Caleb was choosing his words carefully, “not even rice? Or maybe some broth?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. I’ll order you something. Whatever you want.”

***

Caleb lended you one of his shirts since yours was stained with blood.

As promised, he ordered you takeout from a place that worked late and forced you to eat dinner. Even though you felt a little sick, you still made yourself eat.

He didn’t have a dinner table, so you sat on the couch while Caleb fed you.

“Why don’t you have a dinner table?” You inquire, “haven’t you moved in months ago?”

“I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

It was nice to catch up with him, even though it was a little awkward at times. You would talk for a few minutes before falling into silence again. Then someone would say something and the conversation would strike up again.

No one mentioned the kiss from earlier.

The familiar and slightly domestic atmosphere was almost enough to make you forget your previous worries. Almost.

There was a slight buzzing in your head, and then a wave of dizziness overcame you, harder than before.

You calmly, although wobbly, got up from the couch, and looked down at Caleb.

“Caleb, take me to the hospital.”

Caleb followed you up, “Hold on. Wait.”

You started walking towards the door, feeling like you could collapse at any moment. Caleb beat you to the front door, blocking it with his body.

“You’re not in the condition to go anywhere. Look at you. You can barely stand!”

“Then you take me!”

“Listen. I’ll take care of everything. You can’t go anywhere, even with my help.”

“But—“

“Don’t argue with me on this, pipsqueak,” He grabbed your arm a little more forcefully then he intended, “You’re not leaving in this state. No one will take better care of you than me.”

You bite at your bottom lip. What has gotten into him? Was he really just willing to let you bleed out just because he didn’t want you to leave?

Mustering up your last bit of courage and strength, you forcefully tug back on your arm that Caleb was holding, causing him to stumble forward a few steps. The plan was to get around him when he was caught off guard, however, when you retreated your arm in such a sudden motion, the muscles on your abdomen contracted, causing you to shudder in pain.

You collapse onto the floor, unable to put up a fight any further.

“Damn it, pipsqueak. I told you not to argue with me on this.”

Caleb gently helped you up, not minding your little stunt. He helped carry you to his room, tucking you into bed, bringing the covers all the way up to your chin even though you were hot. His scent enveloped you.

He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, “you know I only want what’s best for you.”

You nod.

You realized that perhaps you should’ve seen this coming from the very beginning. The way he clung on to you when you first came, the way he never let you out of your sight. He wouldn’t let you go now. No matter how much you struggled against him. And you couldn’t say that you hated the idea. This was the person you loved the most. The person who knew you best. The person who would take care of you better than anyone.

He was the person you turned to at the end of the day.

Caleb respectfully sat down on the floor across from you, resting his head on the edge of his bed. Lost in thought, his fingers met yours. Then he brought them up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss.

“I’m mad about you,” he whispers, “I think I’ll die if you ever continue to ignore me like you did.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Sleep tight, pipsqueak.”

It was four in the morning and the door was closed and Caleb's breathing gradually evened out. The light sound of cars passing on the street below was the only sound. In the haziness of the deep hours of the night, you were back in grandma’s house for a moment. You had snuck into Caleb's room again because you were scared of the sound of cars outside and the shadows on the wall of your room.

The pain in your side is unbearably excruciating. You carefully peel the blanket up to see Caleb’s sheets covered in blood. Your shirt had completely soaked through, and there was no doubt that your gauze had done little to prevent the blood flow. You felt unbearably hot, and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

Without thinking much further, you covered yourself with Caleb’s blanket and turned to the side, scumming to deep sleep shortly after.

At least you were with the person who knows you best.

At least you were with the person who loves you the most.

Masterlist

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: how they behave on the Internet and in correspondence with you🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Gang No Eul x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f), Park Gyeong Seok x Reader(f)

Warnings: deviation from the canon, AU without squid game.

A/N: Thank you very much for 300 readers on my channel! I tried very hard to write something interesting for you!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

Her avatar on the social network⬇️

How does she behave on the Internet

•The girl doesn't really like to put her photos on her avatar, so she decided to put bouquets of flowers that you give her. She always takes pictures of them as a souvenir.

•Ju is subscribed to groups about cooking, about transgender people, about fashion and groups about your favorite series and shows.

•She has a closed account and not many friends. Of which you, transgender friends, with whom she is very good friends, because common interests and destinies have united them.

How does she behave in your correspondence

•She likes to send you good morning pictures in the morning or just cute images of animals, flowers, nature.

•When you are both at work, she tries to write to you every free minute, and you immediately try to answer her.

•She still can't learn how to send you voice messages, so she writes everything manually!

•Hyun Ju writes you a lot about love, even at a distance you should feel that she loves you very much and takes care of you.

•The girl likes to send cute emojis in every message. Even if they are not quite appropriate, she will still do it! That's how she tries to convey all her emotionality.

«Baby, how are you? How are things at work? Didn't you forget to have lunch? 😊 I miss you a lot!! 😭😭😭 I'm waiting for the evening to enjoy you as soon as possible!! ❤️❤️❤️ I love you very much!!! ❤️❤️❤️»

«I got off work early!! 🥳🥳🥳 I'll go to the store now, tell me, do you need to buy something there? ☺️ I can also pick you up after work! ❤️»

«It's only been an hour since we parted, but I miss you already!!! 😭😭😭😭»

«Baby, maybe we can call at lunch??? I miss you a lot!! ❤️❤️❤️ or should we go to a cafe and have lunch together?? 😊😊😊»

Thanos (Su Bong)

His avatar on the social network⬇️

How he behaves on the Internet

•The guy has a lot of photos in his profile: photos from his concert, clubs, with friends, ordinary selfies, photos with you. But he always puts on the avatar only those photos that you personally took. You are a personal photographer for him. This is how he expresses his love.

•Su Bong is subscribed to groups about music, clubs, and some of his fan groups.

•He has an open profile, but not many friends. He adds only loved ones: you, his close friends, work colleagues. Because of all this, he has a lot of subscribers, as fans want to be his friends.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He likes to send you his funny photos, especially when you are far away from him.

•Su tries to write to you every free minute, because he is ashamed that he spends more time in the studio.

•He is also a fan of flirting even in correspondence, which will soon grow into a much vulgar one.

«Now I'm sitting in the studio, but I could lie in bed with you and do something more interesting😏»

«Fuck, I'm going to be late today. And I miss you so much, baby. If you want, come to my studio, we'll be all alone»

«Nam invites you and me to his club for a party, I'll go if you agree to join. He said he was really waiting for us»

«Fuck, baby, I miss you!»

Gang No Eul

Her avatar on social networks⬇️

How does she behave on the Internet

•The girl doesn’t have her profile photos, as she registered for you.

•But then she decided to put a photo on her avatar, which you took quietly. She seemed very cute and decided to put it on. All for you. ⬇️

•She is not subscribed to any groups, she does not have time to read what they write there.

•Since No Eul registered only for you, her profile is closed, and you are the only friend. She doesn't need anyone else.

How does she behave in your correspondence

•The girl is very worried about you, so she often asks about your condition, it happens when you are both at work, or only her.

•She doesn't really know how to express her love, it manifests itself not only in life, but also in correspondence. So don't be offended by her, she tries very hard, but everything goes gradually!!

•Since she does not know how to show her feelings strongly, the girl puts ❤️ in almost every message so that you at least feel that she loves you very much.

•No Eul also tries to write to you every free minute, because she can't even pick up the phone while working.

•She also puts dots after each sentence, but this does not mean that she is offended, but simply observes punctuation.

«How are you? How do you feel? I finally have a break and I was able to write to you. ❤️»

«After work, I'll pick you up, because it's very late and all kinds of terrible men walk around.»

«I'll be back late. Go to bed without me. I'm sorry it happened that way. ❤️»

«Maybe we can have lunch together? I want to spend more time with you. ❤️»

Nam Gyu

His avatar on the social network⬇️

How he behaves on the Internet

•The guy has a lot of photos in his profile, especially those related to cats. He also has photos from the club, with friends, ordinary photos and joint photos with you. And since he loves cats, he photoshops the cat's ears and muzzle and puts it on his avatar for the sake of a joke.

•Gyu is subscribed to bands about music, cats, about his club, as well as fan groups about his friend Thanos.

•He has an open profile and a lot of friends. Unlike Thanos, he adds absolutely everyone, as he is a very friendly person.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He sends you a lot of meme pictures with cats, well, he loves them very much.

•Uses both light flirting and more vulgar. Especially when you haven't seen him for a long time because of work.

•Nam likes to send you emojis with hearts, so he expresses his love for you.

•A guy can sometimes write with mistakes, and also not follow the punctuation. As he likes to say: I write as I feel.

«Kiss me if I'm wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right? 😏❤️»

«Kitten come to my club I'm bored😭😭😭😭»

«Thanos said he was better than me! 😡 I told him no because I have such a cool girl like you❤️»

«Meow-meow I'm bored maybe we'll call? Or are you busy now?»

Park Gyeong Seok

His avatar on the social network⬇️

P.S. I wanted to take another photo where I can add you, but I didn't find anything like it, so I took this one. But let's imagine that he has a photo on his avatar where all three of you are standing.

How he behaves on the Internet

•He publishes photos with his daughter and with you, sometimes only Na Yeon photos, rarely his photos.

•The man is subscribed to groups about art and psychology.

•He has a closed profile and few people. You and his closest friends are among friends.

How he behaves in your correspondence

•He writes you big messages about his love, because he wants to cheer you up for the whole day.

•Also, a man is very worried about you and his daughter, so he almost always asks about your well-being.

•He likes to send you photos of nature that he took while in the park, he also likes to take pictures of his paintings.

•Gyeong likes to send you laughing emojis, we don't forget that he is much older than you, so you don't always understand his jokes, and his emojis sometimes annoy you, but you don't confess to him because you don't want to offend.

«How are you there? What do you do? Na Yeon is not capricious?»

«I love you very much. ❤️»

«I'll try to finish the work earlier and then the three of us can go for a walk in the park and eat ice cream.»

«There's such a funny situation here! A dog is barking at the package near me, it probably thinks it's a monster. 🤣🤣🤣🤣»

🩵🩵🩵

[sc0tters]

Be a Brat and Find Out | Quinn Hughes

summary: there is only so much of bratty you that Quinn can take before he teaches you a lesson.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, swearing, cock riding?

word count: 0.95k

authors note: hello and welcome to the first part of the one shot wonder event! this was so much fun to write, I am not someone who usually writes blurbs let alone smut ones so I really do hope that this is enjoyed by you guys. the idea for this one stuck in my brain for a while so it was about time I got it written out!

This was a sight Quinn swore would have been in his dreams. 

Your whimpers echoed off of the walls of your bedroom “fuck baby you could have had such a good night.” Quinn sighed keeping his hands on your hips, making sure that you couldn’t stop your movements.

You sat in nothing more than your Canucks scarf tears stained your cheeks with your lipstick practically gone now. The folds of your pussy wrapped around his cock “please Quinny.” You begged cutting yourself off as he brought his hand up to tug at your scarf “don’t make me out to be the bad guy doll.”Quinn shook his head. 

The captain raised his free hand up to smack your ass “ahh.” You whimpered feeling him massage the area of your skin that he had hit. 

You had pushed him over the edge that night after particularly rough game. It toppled over the tower of close interactions you had with Cole McWard over the last week. Quinn swore that he was close to killing his younger teammate if you laughed at another stupid thing that came from his lips. But now it was you that felt the brunt of Quinn’s anger. 

That’s how you ended up on his cock because after a long ride home where you were dangerously close to pulling his cock out in the car, when your hand edged dangerously close to his upper thigh. Quinn refused to believe that you deserved to be properly fucked, that’s why you weren’t sat with his cock inside of you. You had fucked yourself on his thigh before, in fact it was one of your favourite things when you craved his attention. 

But now Quinn sat watching how your folds swallowed his cock, desperately rubbing your clit against his length. It was selfish, even you knew that but god were you loving how the hunger in your stomach felt.

Your eyes screwed shut feeling his cock throb against your clit “shouldn’t even fucking let you cum.” Quinn scoffed as he wrapped his arms around your throat slowly the blood flow to your brain “no!” You yelled shaking your head. 

The boy cocked his head “you think that’s the right attitude to get what you want?” He asked squeezing his hand “please Quinny.” You begged almost wondering how coherent words came from your lips. 

Quinn smiled, you were on the right track, “please what?” He pushed your buttons now feeling his strength wavering “wanna cum so bad.” You pleaded with a soft sniffle. 

Your body jolted feeling the head of his cock brush against your let, his precum spreading against your sensitive bud. His hand forced your hips back down, you weren’t allowed to get off that fast “even after you were such a brat all week?” The captain taunted you, using the hand that stayed around your throat to keep you upright. 

You tried everything to rest your head against his shoulder “sorry.” Was all that escaped from your lips “for what?” Quinn chewed at his lip seeing how your slick coated his cock. 

It shone like it screamed to actually be fucked, to be given the chance to feel the walls of your cunt stretch to allow his cock in “just wanted your attention.” It was no secret that the Canucks weren’t doing their best, but Quinn was on edge because of it. 

Quinn frowned at your words “and you thought that this was the best way to get it?” He shook his head watching you drive your hips with even more desperation now. 

You nodded gnawing at the inside of your cheek “please Q.” You begged refusing to let yourself cum into he said you could. 

The boy felt his eyes flutter “you promise you’re gonna behave?” The question stuck to your skin like sweat. 

You were never going to listen to that, like Quinn shouldn’t have been surprised if he was hoisting your ass over his knee next week “promise.” You nodded watching Quinn  bring your face closer to his. 

His lips pursed together “open that mouth f’me love.” This was the first time that night he said something with love. 

So naturally you clung to it, your jaw went slack as your tongue rolled out. But what you didn’t expect was that Quinn would let a glob of saliva go from his lips. It landed in your tongue and he swore he saw stars watching you pull your tongue into your mouth as you swallowed what he had deposited into your mouth. 

A grunt escaped from his lips “make a mess sweet girl.” He cooed sending you a nod. That was all it took for you to drive your hips harder, feeling how the very inch of his cock felt against your clit. You were desperate to fuck him but this was all he said you deserved. 

Your eyes screwed shut when your mouth fell open “right there baby.” Quinn grunted taking over as he began to feel his own high coming fast at him. 

It was almost pornographic how your moans mixed into each other as they painted the walls. Quinn didn’t know who exactly came first as his cock shot warm sticky ropes against his stomach. Your legs shook as your cunt gushed against his dick, not letting your thrusts stop because it was unclear if it was you or him controlling your pace.

You had barely come down from your high as you kissed at his shoulder “shit!” You groaned feeling his cock thrust into your cunt. 

Quinn laughed pressing a kiss against your head “you really thought that you’d get away with all that this easy?” The captain asked, flipping you both over so he could remind you who was really in control.

[quarterlifekitty]

first of all i love womens hockey, strong ladies slamming up on the glass, amazing.

i went to a pwhl game and a man with his like teenage daughter were next to me and THAT MFER LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE JOHN PRICE hat and blue eyes and beard and everything it was nuts. anyways john price is a hockey girl dad of a scary 13 year old who kept staring at me the whole game.

just needed people to knoww

(fuck that mans gorgeous irl)

also i love your writing. Thank u for sharing ur brain w the internet.

That makes me think like. Imagine being John’s neighbor. You haven’t spoken more than pleasantries to him, introduced yourself to him and his daughter, made small talk at block parties.

And one cold day after school, his daughter is sitting on the front steps shivering, because she forgot her house key. You don’t have a spare, and John won’t be home for hours— so you tell her to stay inside your place until then. You call John and leave a message to let him know.

She’s a little wary of you, which is good. It’s not like you’re a total stranger, but you’re also not necessarily trustworthy yet. She just parks herself on the couch and watches whatever you’d had on tv, a little awkward as she sips the cup of tea you’d made her so she could warm up.

She ends up getting kinda attached. You joke with her that you watch the show that’s on because of the hot guys in it, and she smiles. She’s at that age, but of course she doesn’t really want to talk about it with John. You remember being 13, and she likes talking to you. John comes by once he’s home, thanks you profusely and apologizes for having to take up so much of your day. You tell him it was no trouble at all, and that she’s welcome any time.

She ends up taking you up on your offer. Usually after school, when her dad is still at work. You just leave the door open. She asks you questions about boys, about makeup— things she’s a little curious about but her mother isn’t around to answer. You get invited to all of her hockey games, with John insisting you sit next to him (when he can make it, that is).

You do holiday baking with her. She invites you to her birthday dinner. You’re welcomed over to John’s for every Christmas and other holiday they can manage to throw together a little gathering for. You’re so focused on her that you completely miss how John stares at you every single time you’re with his daughter.

Such a natural with her— and he’s had such a hard time connecting with her now that she’s becoming a teen. They’ve always had hockey, but it’s hard for him to accept that she’s not a baby anymore (even thought she’ll always be his baby). She storms over to your place every time they fight, and he’s eternally grateful she has somewhere to go for comfort when he doesn’t understand her.

She’s over at yours so much that he thinks it might be easier if you just moved in. That it would be a big age gap, but his daughter might like to have a little sibling. That if anything ever happened to him he’d want you to have every right to look after her. If that’s what you wanted, anyways.

And he loves his girl more than anything in the world, but it hasn’t been easy. Between raising her and his work, he doesn’t hardly have any time for dating. Whenever he’s tried— his daughter had found a problem with whoever he’d brought home, and that had signaled the end. It was hard enough to find anyone interested in dating a single parent.

So when you’d moved in next door, he couldn’t help himself. You’re pretty, single. He can see you through his window almost any time he wants. You don’t close your curtains nearly as much as you should, either. He’s just a man, y’know?

So, yeah, he’s made himself cum thinking of you more times than he can count. And it only gets worse once he has those fleeting thoughts about you being a mother for his girl. Maybe a few more kids if he can manage to get a ring on your finger. Insane thought to have when he’s never even asked you out on a date.

[tossawary]

Every now and again, I'll come across some fanfiction in which an emotionally conflicted character will consult (usually kind of trashy) romance novels or in-universe fanfiction for advice or information. And it almost always snaps my suspension of disbelief.

If it's some terminally online teenage geek character or a hopeless romantic bookworm character? Sure! And, of course, there's great humor to be had in a sporty jock struggling with his queer awakening hesitantly picking up the bodice-ripper that his mum left on the coffee table. There ARE scenarios where "romance novels and fanfic as research" tracks just fine. I also understand the existence of the "I want to give this character I like the hobbies I like" / "I want to poke fun at this type / genre of fiction" aspect on the author's side.

But in any scenario with some normie adult man? Some straight, cisgender guy with normie dude hobbies and no evidence that he even CAN read, much less that he enjoys reading? Then it's a "not only would he not fucking do this, I honestly don't even believe he'd know this course of action exists" characterization situation.

Like, there are an astonishing number of people, especially dudes, who could not even name a romance novel to save their fucking life. No, not even a Jane Austen novel or "Twilight" or something. Their eyes glaze over that section of a bookstore. They are mentally filing that shit out to leave more room for sports or first-person-shooter video games or something. They have no respect for this type of fiction, if they're into reading fiction at all! They unconsciously or even explicitly believe that making eye contact with a bodice-ripper will permanently damage their masculinity, and they would flinch away from touching one like most people are scared of scorpions. They don't know aaaaanything about it! They have no concept of "the good stuff" versus "the bad stuff"; it's all soap operas and pornography to them, not a source of information.

And lots of people still don't even know that fanfiction is a thing. They go through life blissfully unaware of fandom wank. Or if they do know of fanfiction, it holds no appeal for them. Playing with other people's characters, or writing fictional stories about real people, is weirdo fanatic behavior to them! Not a source of information.

(And, to be clear, I'm not saying this tracks for all female characters. No, obviously, plenty of women don't like romance novels or fanfic. Plenty of women who do like those would never look at them as sources of information either, for a variety of very good reasons. It's just really funny when a story has the most normie bro guy to ever bro engage with this type of fiction.)

So, like, no, there are some characters whom I cannot be persuaded would ever read any of this stuff. (Speaking as a terminally online fanatic!) And honestly, there are plenty of more realistic and far funnier options for some normie dude character looking for love advice.

A) Friends and family. Or else colleagues and coworkers. It is almost always hilarious when a character goes up to someone else and says, "Hey, hypothetical scenario: [the stupidest shit you've heard in your life]. Any advice for that?" Also, you can have sincerely emotional conversations between friends! Or else good angst if the friend or family member reacts in a hostile manner or gives bad advice!

B) A magazine or chick flick movie. I can easily be persuaded that a normie dude would at least know these exist, or have one left at his house by an ex-girlfriend who made him watch it one time. Normie dudes are also more likely to consider these big publications more legitimate for advice than random romance novels or fanfic.

C) Some random advice column blog or non-fiction self-help book. Could be legitimately good advice for specific situations by a thoughtful professional, could be a money-grab scam written by a quack! How is some lovesick, emotionally dense guy supposed to tell by a book cover?

D) On that note: a relationship advice TikTok influencer or YouTuber or some random advice forum, probably Reddit or the like. The pros and the quacks are unhelpfully everywhere now! And possibly even have a live chat acting as their studio audience to make airing dirty laundry more toxic than ever. Potentially, you will find the kindest person alive with a terrible username willing to gently walk you through therapy, the online equivalent of meeting a figurative angel in a dive bar, but probably not. Bad advice is much more likely.

E) Doing no research, remaining uninformed, and blustering through the situation based on random pre-conceptions if anything. Honestly, I think some of these guys would just ignore the problem, even a potentially deadly problem, rather than touch a Harlequin romance novel, much less AO3 fanfiction. Sexism and internalized homophobia are a hell of a drug. It's just not happening.

I don't have a clean conclusion for this, it's just a funny thing that I've noticed every now and again. There ARE guys who like these types of fiction, of course! There ARE male characters who own an e-reader full of rom novels, sure, and don't give a shit what anyone else thinks. "This [normie male character who is both pretty offline and worries about appearing sufficiently masculine in a pretty toxic way] is reading a lot of romance novels and/or fanfiction as a form of research!" Yeah, no, that's really hard to pull off. If this guy is touching the internet at all, he's far more likely to make the most ridiculous Reddit post you've ever seen and then start belligerent fights in the comments.

[jarofstyles]

I don’t know if you’d want to write this but I’ve been reading some stuff with primal play and I feel like you’d do a good job with it! Or something with that vibe. Anything with that, I’d love to see!

Omg I’d love to do that! I’ll try and do something with Wolfrry and that at some point as a whole one shot but I’ve whipped up an enemies/lovers little thing for you. Thank you for the suggestion!

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Warnings- primal play, cum play, edging, a bit of degrading, exhibitionism, Dom!Harry, finger sucking, daddy kink if you squint

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He had her where he had been waiting to get her. Pretty, perky, perfect Y/N knelt on the floor, the filthy bathroom floor of the club, looking like the slut she was- the girl he had been chasing for months now, being met with resistance, a cat and mouse game that made him want her even more.

Her hair was a mess from his fingers, her face flushed, and her lips swollen from kissing, the unusual unkempt appearance making his cock throb. It was obvious she had her hair done tonight, perfectly pin straight and pretty as it had flowed over her shoulder- now ruined from his hands. He took it as a stroke to the ego, making the only girl he ever knew to be so put together into a disheveled mess.

He’d gotten her where they both knew she wanted to be, holding one of his digits in her mouth, sucking gently as she gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes, mouth hot and her tongue unbelievably soft as she ran it over the underside of the digit. Brushing over the ring at his knuckle even as she pulled back to the tip, he watched her clenched hands squeeze together as they rested on her thighs, waiting for her next command.

This sweet little thing sullying herself by sucking his finger like it was his cock, showing him exactly what he could expect, it only spurred him on. The impatience was starting to show by the minute, just letting her do this. Watching her get more and more desperate. Her tongue swirled around the digit, teasing the tip before taking it deeper, mimicking what he really needed around his dick. “D’you want something, baby?” He feigned innocence as his other hand palmed over his cock through his pants. “Hm?”

He chuckled darkly as she let out a hum. Still stubborn. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, letting it out with an obscene pop from between her swollen lips. Her eyes fluttered as she gazed up at him, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his fingertip that he promptly wiped over her perfectly made up cheek. "Tell me what you want, angel. Use your words. Thought you were running your mouth tonight about how you can’t stand me, and now y’can’t even pull your mouth off my fingers t’tell me what you want?" His voice low and teasing. The hand palming his cock squeezed gently as he waited for her request, knowing damn well what she craved.

“I..” She didn’t want to admit it. Harry won this game most of the time, but he had her in the sweet spot. Incredibly horny and desperate for approval. This was always the hardest part of it. Getting past her pride. Somehow, she always gave in. “I want to suck you off. Please.”

A wicked grin spread across his face at her words, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. It was one of his favorite parts, watching her unravel like she hadn’t been scoffing at him earlier. Like he didn’t know she’d end up on her knees saying ‘please, Daddy’ while begging for his cock. They both knew how this went. It was just a question as to who would break first every time they saw each other. How long it would take for him to catch her.

He unzipped his pants slowly, revealing his cock. Y/N hated how much she loved it, how thick it was, how obvious it was that their back and forth and the thrill of the chase had the tip ruddy and wet. He was leaking and she had been the one to do it. There wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment on his face as he took it into his hand, stepping closer to her kneeling form. "Come here then. Show me how badly you want it." He gripped his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched her with a hungry gaze. "Pout those pretty lips like you did before. I want t’see that again."

She did as he asked, letting her bottom lip poke out as she looked up at him in slight confusion- before he brought the tip over to her mouth. “Keep that pout.” He instructed when she went to open it, gripping her hair in his fingers as he dragged the tip over her bottom lip. Tracing over each one, he let out a soft hum as he painted her lips with his own arousal, watching his precum slick over her lower lip. Repeating the process again, he watched her lips glisten in the shitty light of the stall. Somehow, he hadn’t seen anything better in his life- Her pouted lips, glossy with the evidence of how much she worked him up.

“There we go. Made me so hard, looking the way you do. Y’look so pretty on your knees for me, but I think you needed that touch up.” Rubbing the top back and forth over the seam of her lips, he let out a groan as she pursed them. “Think you like it too. Filthy little thing. Pretending y’havent been gagging for it.. Runnin’ from me like we both don’t know you’re gonna get caught and you’re gonna get on your knees or bend over f’me after you talk all that shit to your friends about what an asshole I am… Leading me to places you shouldn’t be just to get a taste.”

She clenched her thighs together unconsciously, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between them- the one he always put there. When he finally pulled away, she couldn't help but lick her lips, tasting the trace him. Her eyes lulled as the salty-sweet flavor hit her tongue, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her. Her gaze darted up to meet his, embarrassment and arousal warring in her expression- smugness on his own.

She hated how much she loved it.

“Yeah, I know.” He cooed. “Y’love to taste me. Daddy’s good little whore.” Her expression turned to confusion as he slipped himself back in his trousers, zipping them back up. She was ready and on the floor, hands on her knees- and he was putting it away?

Harry caught the look, a patronizing smile on his face as he reached down to cup her chin. “What? Did you think you could run ‘round, acting like a brat this whole time n’I was just going to give you what you want?” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. Giving her chin a squeeze he motioned for her to get back up on her shaky feet.

“Not getting an inch of my cock in here. You’re goin’ to go back out there with all your little friends, act like you weren’t jus’ on your knees on this filthy bathroom floor for me.. Complain about me watching you like it doesn’t make that cunt soak whatever panties you’ve got on. S’alright, baby. I know the drill.” Squeezing her cheeks, he watched her face morph into irritation despite his grip. Just how he wanted her. “All you’re getting is the taste of me on that smart mouth. When you’re done, meet me in the hallway. If I get a lick of attitude from you, you aren’t getting anything else.”

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - Pt IV

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x SingleMom!Reader

WC - 5.6k

Summary - A snow day prompts Steve and Abbey to spend a little one on one time together.

AN - sorry this one took a little longer! being creative is hard when the U.S keeps sucking me of all my joy. thanks for the patience, love y’all! ~ emma

Three weeks ago, your daughter’s kindergarten teacher gave you his phone number in a chilly, deserted diner parking lot, and every weekday since that night, Abbey has had to all but drag you from his classroom when you go to pick her up in the afternoons. One topic leads to another and another, and before you realize it, you and Steve have been chatting in his mostly empty classroom for over an hour. But this morning, you’re dialing those digits he gave you on your landlines keypad for the first time with shaky fingers. You’d spent the past hour exhausting all your other options. Your mother? Working. Your sister? Out of town. Your usual babysitter? sick.

Steve was the only person you knew for a fact wouldn’t be working today.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to that you hadn’t called yet. Every waking hour since that night, you had been wrestling with yourself about what an appropriate reason would be. Was he flirting with you? Did he genuinely just want you to have access to him in case of an emergency? Both? Your inner dialogue was deafening– like a squawking bird in the back of your brain.

The intrusive volume of your thoughts seemed to quiet now as your leg bounced impatiently– anxiety over the prospect of having to call into work outweighing your trepidation– waiting for him to pick up the call on the other line. 

He finally answered halfway through the fourth ring, “Hello?” Despite the early hour, Steve sounded wide awake. Probably rousing at the same time you did, not expecting to be temporarily blinded by three feet of bright, white snow piled on top of his car. On the kitchen radio, you can hear the newscaster announcing a closure of the local schools.

“Steve, it’s Y/N,” your voice cuts through the static.

He pauses briefly, yours probably being the last voice he expected to hear when he picked up his phone, “Hey, morning–” he clears his throat, “everything alright?”

“Yes– well– I don’t know.” You rub the tips of your fingers restlessly over your closed eyelids, “I don’t have anyone to watch Abbey with the school being closed, I've tried everyone and I really hate to ask but–”

“Of course, I can be there in thirty. Can you give me your address?”

“Are you sure, Steve? I can just call out if–”

“Don’t be ridiculous, just give me your address,” his incredulity and lack of hesitation sends the wings fluttering about in your stomach again, while cementing the reassurance of his words. You gain the courage to repeat your home address for him to write down.

You can hear the sound of pen hastily scratching paper, then after a few beats of silence he speaks again, “It’ll take me a little bit to clear off my car, but I’ll be there as soon as I can,”

“Thank you so much, you have no idea.”

“Don’t mention it,” you can hear the grin in his voice, can picture the flash of perfect white squares, “see you soon,” you breathe a heavy sigh of relief at the click of the receiver being placed back in its cradle. Abbey is bundled up on the couch watching Rugrats, a bowl of cereal in her lap. Normally, you wouldn’t let her eat in the living room, but you needed respite from her usual game of 20 Questions to make some phone calls.

“Hey, Ab,” you say as you approach her, thoroughly engrossed in her cartoons, “Is it okay if Mr. H comes over and watches you today while mommy goes to work?”

The question is more than enough to pull her focus from the television screen. Her face lights up like the Fourth of July as she nearly spills her cereal with the force of her straightening on the sofa, “Really?” She asks hopefully.

“Yes, grandma is working and Julia is sick. Is that okay?” As excited as you know she is, you want her verbal confirmation. Mostly because you’d never put your child in a situation she’s uncomfortable in; but a smaller, more selfish part of you wants to be absolved of the guilt you feel for having to leave her all day.

Your wish is granted almost instantly as she squeals and hops off the couch where she’d been lounging, placing her bowl on the coffee table. Halfway to her room, she calls, “Mommy! Where are my coloring books?”

“They’re on top of your bookshelf,” you call, “don’t make a huge mess, please!”

“I won’t!” She replies, muffled through the drywall separating you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You hadn’t had time to tidy the house or make yourself look even remotely presentable before Steve arrived. If it weren’t for the relief that floods your body upon seeing his car pull in the driveway, you might even be a little embarrassed. Booted footsteps shuffle up the porch as you’re shoveling things into your bag at the last minute, followed by three light knocks on the door.

“Coming!” You shout from where you stand in the dining room.

Before you even have the chance to reach the foyer, Abbey is darting from her bedroom in plastic play shoes and throwing the door open with immeasurable enthusiasm.

“Hey–” Steve starts, expecting it to be you before he realizes who’s greeting him, “Oh, hi Ab,” he waves to the little face staring up at him, “Where’s your mom?”

“Mommy!” Abbey calls, “Mr. H is here!”

Steve spots you holding two pieces of notebook paper clad with chicken scratch scribblings. You look frazzled– hair thrown up hastily and scrubs wrinkly. He scours the place where he would normally find an emotion akin to pity for your distressed state, but in its absence, he only feels endearment laced with a little concern.

He doesn’t get a word in before you’re shoving the papers in his hands and spouting off information that he’s praying is already on the sheets you’ve given him.

“I should be home by five, if anything happens, this–” you point to a barely legible number, “--is my work phone. This is her doctor’s phone number and she’s allergic to peanuts. There aren’t any peanuts in the house but–” you sigh, exasperated with yourself, “just in case.”

The rest of the pages are filled with ramblings about which channels Abbey likes to watch and how to work the television. How, in case she needs a bath, you have to pull and then twist the knob for the hot water to run. That she is not, under any circumstances, allowed to put nail polish on by herself and where you keep her Epi Pens.

Steve’s surprised at how many of these sentiments he already has catalogued. He’s required to know Abbey’s emergency contacts and that she has a nut allergy for his job, but he knows that channel thirty-seven has the best cartoons because Abbey once told him that Power Puff Girls was her favorite– and you’d already relayed to him the hilariously tragic tale of what happened the last time Abbey attempted to paint her own nails.

Despite this revelation, he doesn’t dare interrupt you. He indulges your ranting, a grin creeping involuntarily along his face.

“-- sorry, I’m rambling– I’ve just never left her with someone who wasn’t my mom or her sitter before,” you’re a little breathless after two straight minutes of talking.

“Hey, hey– you’re okay,” he wastes no time reassuring you, “you know I’d never let anything happen to her.” You nod your understanding, “Besides,” now he’s speaking to Abbey, “we’re gonna have a super fun time right?”

She shouts, “Yes!”

He looks at you with his brows raised, amused, “See?”

“Okay, alright,” you kneel down, chuckling, “do I get a hug? Or am I chopped liver?”

Giggling, Abbey wraps you in a suffocating embrace, like always. Her excitement for Steve has never quelled her affection for you, and you can tell that she’s still hesitant to see you go. You smack a kiss on her cheek, grabbing your bag from the floor as you rise again.

“Swear you’ll call me if anything happens?” You ask him one more time, already knowing the answer.

“Cross my heart.” He smiles fondly, stoking the flames burning bright around the cage that your heart inhabits.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your home is cozy, much cozier than anything Steve had growing up. He’s warmed at the idea that Abbey has the privilege of growing up in a house that feels so lived in– stains on the carpet, soft edges and yellow lighting. There’s clutter on the kitchen counter by the microwave and colorful alphabet magnets securing several bright pieces of artwork to the fridge.

“Are these the pictures you drew in art class last week?” He asks Abbey, who has been trailing behind him all through the house, pointing things out to him as they go.

“Uh-huh, Mrs. Morse helped me with that one,” she points to what Steve thinks is probably supposed to be a zebra.

“Well, you’re very talented, I love them,”

“Can we go play outside?” She asks, drawing out the last syllable and completely ignoring Steve’s compliment.

“Sure we can,” he chuckles, “where do you keep your snowsuit?”.

Abbey takes Steve by the wrist and leads him to the coat closet by the front door. Similar to the rest of your house, it’s stuffed to the brim– full of puffy nylon and heavy winter boots. He catches a glimpse of a familiar brown and green jacket– his jacket. You’d promised to wash it and return it to him, but it must’ve slipped your mind. He grins to himself at the reminiscence as he fetches Abbey’s snow gear and shuts the door.

Steve hadn’t dressed appropriately for a morning rolling around in the cold. He had slipped on a pair of your mittens, probably meant more for fashion than practicality, because his fingers were already completely numb. But he can’t seem to deny her when Abbey pleads with him to make snow angels. They’d just spent the past half an hour building two snowmen– one short like Abbey and one tall like Steve, she insisted, as she wrapped her scarf around the snowman that resembled her.

“Please, Mr. H?” She begs when she notices his hesitancy.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, “but then we’re gonna go inside and have lunch. Deal?”

That appears to be a good enough covenant for her, “Okay!” Abbey exclaims, falling fairly harshly to the cushioned ground. Steve braces himself for tears, but Abbey only keeps laughing in that contagious way as she begins spreading her arms and legs out beside her in a repetitive motion.

“Are you gonna make one?” She questions from her place on the ground.

He grunts as he reluctantly lowers himself down next to her, anticipating the icy wetness waiting underneath him. The snow seeps uncomfortably through his jeans, but the sound of Abbey’s unbridled joy nearly makes up for his soiled clothing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

What’d you want to eat, Ab?” Steve calls from the pantry while Abbey changes out of her wet clothes in her bedroom.

“Not hungry!” She calls back.

He sighs, expecting her stubbornness– she was nearly as mulish as you.

“Remember the deal we made earlier?” He asks, “That if I made a snow angel with you, that you’d have to eat something for lunch, right?”

She emerges from her room, pout prominent on her strikingly adorable features, “But I wanna keep playing,” she whines, giving her foot a little stomp on the linoleum for emphasis.

“We can keep playing after, I promise,” he knows he’s not winning this battle without a compromise, “does your mom let you eat in the living room?” He asks with a lilt to his voice that makes him sound conspiratorial.

“Sometimes…”

“How about…” he pauses as if thinking, “I make us some food and we watch a movie while we eat?”

He can tell he’s got her after that– hook, line and sinker. She still pretends to mull over his proposition for a moment before agreeing, “Hmm…I think that sounds good,” she settles, trying and failing to mask her elation.

That’s how Steve ended up, plates of grilled cheese sandwiches in hand, dodging barbies and miscellaneous stuffed animals on his way to the living room a few minutes later.

“Have you found a movie yet?” He asks Abbey as he sets the plates down atop the coffee table.

“Yes but–” she jumps on her tiptoes, “I can’t reach it,”

Steve walks over to the towering shelf of VHS tapes in front of her, “Which one are you trying to reach?”

Abbey points at the tape in question, “Home Alone,”

“Alrighty,” Steve says as he grabs it with ease, “Your foods on the table, go sit while I put it in,”

Abbey, for once, does as he asks– bounding over to the coffee table with the excitement typical of a five-year-old who has an adult's permission to break a house rule.

While Steve eyes your VCR, he catches a glimpse of a photo out of the corner of his eye, causing him to pause. It’s you, no older than twenty, holding a swaddled baby in a sterile hospital room. He doesn’t recognize the picture as one he’s seen before.

Of course you’ve never seen it before, he thinks, you barely know her. Get a grip.

You’re filled with such youthful brilliance in the shot, despite the underlying weariness of having just given birth; your hair tied messily into a bun at the nape of your neck, sweat beading on your brow bone. It’s just you and Abbey, Steve thinks her father must’ve been the photographer.

He can’t help but think of himself at that age and all the stupid shit he was doing. How, if you had handed him a baby then, he wouldn’t have known the first thing about what to do with it– but here you had raised such a bright, healthy daughter and largely alone. He was struck by such a sudden and overwhelming admiration for you that he nearly forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

“Mr. H?” Abbey asked, mouth full, “When are we gonna start the movie?”

Her question sends him hurling back to reality. A reality where he’s your daughter’s kindergarten teacher, and the two of you are friendly with each other at best.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

At some point during the movie, once their lunch was reduced to crumbs on empty plates, Abbey had hauled out her box of coloring books and crayons that she had been looking for this morning.

Steve, the less creative of the two, was coloring in a cartoon illustration of a fairy while Abbey was making her own drawing on a piece of white construction paper. The lack of constant chatter is a welcome reprieve, but he knows that Abbey only becomes quiet when she’s particularly concentrated, so he chances a peek to his right at what she’s working on.

She got a death grip on a brown crayon– shaved almost down to the tip– with her tongue sticking ever so slightly between her lips as she focuses intently on her art.

The picture is of three stick figures– two tall and one significantly smaller in between them. It’s set at what looks to be a playground, a bright yellow sun in the sky and blue scribblings around white clouds. Swings, slides and even a little blue dog adorn the rest of the background.

Pleasantly surprised at her artistry, Steve says, “That looks amazing, Ab!”

She’s snapped out of her stupor, her face split with a wide toothless grin. She doesn’t thank him, only lets out a few bashful giggles at his praise and says, “I like yours too,”

“Is that you?” He points at the littlest figure.

“Mhm, see? I made her hair curly like mine!”

“It looks just like you,” he agrees, then draws her attention to the other figures, “Is this your mom and your dad next to you?”

“This is mommy,” she points, “I put her in the blue clothes she wears at work,” he knows she’s referring to your scrubs, but the phrasing makes him chuckle.

“And this is you!” She circles the figure she’s drawn with the tip of her finger. She’s included his voluminous chestnut hair and his silver wire-framed glasses, even one of the stupid striped polos he wears at school. Looking at it now, it’s obvious who it was supposed to be– but it’s so unexpected that he feels his face heat up at the realization.

“Oh, wow, Ab– That’s–” he grapples to find the words to express the juxtaposition he’s found himself in. He’s honored, truly, to be included in this portrait Abbey’s made of herself and her mother– her family– but there’s a gnawing guilt he can’t seem to shake. The fear that, in some way, he’s replacing her father.

“I love it, Ab, thank you,” he smiles fondly at her work, the proud grin she wears slowly melting the flash freeze of trepidation that encased his conscience.

“Can we hang it on the fridge for mommy to see when she gets home?” She asks after a moment.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Around four o’clock, Abbey begins asking what they’re having for dinner. Steve wonders briefly if you always have to deal with her being so ravenous.

“How about we start cooking now? That way it’ll be ready for your mom when she gets home,”

“Okay,” Abbey concurs. Steve wouldn’t consider himself a Michelin star chef by any means, but he can make a mean chicken parmesan.

A trip to the grocery store was needed to grab some ingredients. After scribbling down the required items on a crumpled receipt, and struggling for ten minutes to get Abbey’s carseat in the back of his BMW, they’re on their way.

He meets her eyes in the rearview mirror, “Do you want me to put on some music?”

“Christmas music?” She asks hopefully.

Steve isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas music– Christmas in general, really– but he obliges her request and turns the dial to their local channel, soft bells and a choir of voices begin to flood through the interior of the car. She really is so harmlessly manipulative with her saucer eyes and round button nose, he can’t seem to refuse her anything.

Steve drives more cautiously than he thinks he ever has, even more so than when he was sixteen and learning how to drive with his family’s Pontiac as his father stared harshly at him from the passenger seat. He comes to a full halt at every stop sign, and he never takes his eyes off the road.

After fighting some early rush hour traffic, they make it. Without a second thought, Abbey grasps Steve’s hand while walking through the parking lot. He tries not to look startled at the sudden contact, recalling how she always seems to have a firm grip on your hand in public spaces too. Steve’s just glad she feels comfortable with him.

“Can I help?” Abbey asks as Steve grabs a cart from the corral.

“Course’,” he smiles, ��do you wanna grab the ingredients and put them in the cart for me?”

She bounces excitedly, “Sure!”

Wandering through the aisles, Abbey never strayed from Steve’s side. Every time he read off an item, she would dutifully fetch it and throw it into the cart with a little more force than necessary, but Steve didn’t mind.

“Do you live by yourself?” She asks out of the blue as they peruse the store.

“I do,”

“Then how come you know how to cook?”

He laughs at her inquisitive nature, “Well I have to eat don’t I?”

“Yeah…” she ponders, “I guess so,”

“Alright, the last thing we need is breadcrumbs,” he informs her, scanning the shelves.

Like earlier, Abbey attempts to stand on her tiptoes to try and reach the can in question, “I’m getting it,” she mumbles in determination, very much not getting it.

“Here,” Steve says as he lifts her up by her waist like it was second nature to him.

“Got it!” She exclaims, tossing it in with the rest of the groceries. “Can I ride in the cart now?” She yawns with a polite hand over her mouth. He supposes grocery shopping takes a lot out of you when all the shelves are at least five feet taller than your head.

“Sure,” Steve chuckles as he slots her little legs through the designated holes.

Despite the ride home only being about ten minutes long, Abbey manages to doze off– lulled to sleep by the subtle hum of the car's engine. Steve veered as gently as possible into the driveway, careful not to disturb her even though he was about to wake her up anyway.

“Abbey,” he shakes her softly, “we’re home,”

Abbey rouses, but only slightly. She yawns again and stretches with her arms over her head before extending them out, silently motioning with her eyes still closed for Steve to carry her inside.

“Okay, c’mon lazy bones,” he grunts at the angle but lifts her from her car seat nonetheless. After unlocking the door one-handed, he sets her carefully on the couch and covers her with a plush throw blanket before heading back outside for the rest of the groceries.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first thing you notice when you approach your front door is the savory smell of something cooking. Inside, the TV is off and your daughter is sleeping soundly on the couch. Quiet clattering noises flood from the kitchen.

The sleeves of Steve’s burgundy sweater are rolled up to his elbows and the kitchen smells of roasting chicken and mahogany as he stirs a simmering pot of homemade pasta sauce. He’s humming some tune softly under his breath– Bob Segar, you think.

“Hey,” you greet with a grin as you set your bag down on the dining table. Steve turns around to meet you as you ask, “What’re you doing?”

“Cooking?” He replies.

“No, really?” You deadpan back, eliciting an amused chuckle from the man standing at your stove.

“Abbey was asking about dinner,” he pauses, “we were gonna do this whole thing– we were gonna make it for you together, have it ready by the time you got home, but,” he gestures with his arm to the living room where Abbey is napping. Steve Harrington is nothing if not expressive– talking with his hands, eyebrows always either furrowed in concentration or raised in amusement. It’s one of the most charming things about him, you think.

“Well, thank you,” you say, “you didn’t have to do that,” you feel a blush heat your cheeks at how domestic this feels– like you come home to Steve cooking dinner for you and your daughter every night. You can picture it as easily as if it were your actual reality and it leaves you feeling briefly vertiginous. You’re not sure Jeremy ever cooked even one meal for you in the entirety of your relationship.

“The chickens almost done and then I'll get out of your hair,” he assumes a teasing lilt to his voice to disguise the fact that he feels like he’s overstepping– overstaying his welcome or crossing some invisible line.

“Are you kidding?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta at least stick around long enough to see how it came out,”

“You don’t mind?” He asks hesitantly.

“Steve, of course I don’t mind,” honestly, you think you’d start a fire and burn your house to the ground if it meant getting him to stay just a little longer to help you put it out, “plus, I’m sure Abbey’ll be stoked.”

“Alright, well,” he smiles warmly, “it’s ready if you wanna go wake the gremlin up,”

At the table, Abbey insists on sitting next to Steve in the chair across from you.

“This is delicious, Steve,” you compliment.

“Best you ever had?” He teases, but his phrasing makes you choke a little on your pasta.

Abbey makes a twisted face, “The sauce tastes funny.” Saved by the bell.

“Abbey!” you scold playfully, poorly concealing a laugh behind the back of your hand, “Sorry– I think she’s just used to eating Prego,”

“That’s okay– I think she’s right, actually,” he assures you, twisting his expression into something sour and causing Abbey to giggle. His eyes are the color of rich soil as he sends you an oh, so familiar look across the table, communicating another silent thought to you. One that says, I don’t mind how blunt she is, I think it’s endearing.

When dinner is finished, Steve insists on doing the dishes for you too. “You cooked, Steve, let me–” you try to barter.

“--You do enough as it is,” he counters simultaneously.

“You watched my child all day!” You laugh at his stubbornness.

“I do that everyday anyway!” He argues, beginning to fill up the porcelain farmhouse sink with hot, sudsy water.

“At least let me help,” you give him that wide eyed look you always seem to be giving him lately. God, you’re no better than Abbey. “You wash, I’ll dry?”

“Fine,” he tries to frown but his smirk betrays him in his act of faux annoyance.

After a few minutes of stuffy silence, you ask, “She wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass today, was she?”

“Not any more than usual,” he jokes and a plate slips through his fingers, causing a small splash of water to coat your face in dishwater. You gasp at the sensation.

“Oh– Sorry!--” he tries to apologize, but you take your dishwater soaked fingers and flick them in the direction of his own face– small soapy bubbles clinging to his lashes and eyebrows.

“I cannot believe you right now,” he says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“There, now we’re even,” you smirk.

“I’ll let it slide. This time.”

“Mommy!” Abbey rushes into the kitchen, “Can Mr. H stay to watch a cartoon before bed?”

“I don’t know, baby, it’s getting late,” you can just barely see the flash of heartbreak in her gaze before Steve interjects, “It’s okay, I don’t mind staying for a little longer,”

You send him a skeptical glance over your shoulder, but he just nods and asks Abbey what she’d like to watch.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The end credits for an episode of The Rugrats flashes across the screen, illuminating Abbey’s sleeping face in muted shades of blue and orange. She snores, slumped against Steve’s chest with her arms wrapped around his torso. You sit propped against the other arm of the couch watching them intently– trying to memorize the sight before you. You’ve never seen Abbey cradled like this before by anyone else except you. It wasn’t something you felt you craved until recently.

Steve turns, catching you staring but not calling attention to it. He can count on several hands the amount of times he’s done the same to you– Steve Harrington is many things, but he is not a hypocrite.

“Did you know the guy from Devo wrote the theme song for this?” He gestures towards the television.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he replies, “I can’t remember who told me that,”

After a few beats of hushed silence, you say, “Should probably put that one to bed– unless you wanna be here all night,” you try to joke but your voice shakes.

He would if you were sincerely asking. He’d stay right here on this uncomfortably worn sofa, with your daughter whom he has such an affinity for, sleeping against his chest for the next millenia. He’d fossilize here if he could– your presence beside him calm and grounding like an anchor in a storm.

He voices none of this. Instead he says, “Do you want to take her?”

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, “I’ll just come with you.” The three of you slowly make your way to Abbey’s bedroom, Steve carrying her bridal style against his torso and the door creaks on its hinges when Steve pushes it open with his hip. She stirs only a little when he sets her down, but is soothed quickly with a firm palm stroking her back a few times.

The door clicks behind you as Steve leads you both back to the living room.

“I should probably–”

“Do you want–”

You begin to speak at the same time, awkward chuckles leaving both of your nervous lips.

“You first,” he offers, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was– just gonna ask if you wanted some wine, but I know it’s late–”

“Wine sounds great.” His lips form a line across his face as he grins.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Half a bottle of wine split between the two of you, and your hands were tingling from the effort it was taking not to reach out and card your fingers through the hair of the man sitting across from you.

“How come you never called?” He asks suddenly, but not unkindly.

“Hm?”

“You never called– well, not til’ this morning at least,”

“Didn’t know what counted as an emergency, I guess,” you shrug, the alcohol shaking your nerves loose.

He must’ve been feeling in a similar way to you– speaking freely in a way he wouldn’t have before, “Just wanted to talk to you,” he smiles fondly.

“Oh,” you whisper, and when you don’t say anything else, Steve changes the subject.

“I like that photo of you on top of the entertainment center,” he says contemplatively, “you looked really…peaceful,”

“Well, raising a miniature version of yourself tends to age you a bit, I suppose,”

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, testing the waters.

“Always”

“Where was Jeremy in the picture?”

“We always talk about me,” you roll your eyes spiritedly and release a contented sigh, “Tell me why you really came to Maine,”

“Don’t deflect,” he teases.

“C’monnnn,” you draw out the last syllable, “answer,”

“I asked you first,” Steve chuckles.

“Jeremy wasn’t at Abbey’s birth,” you admit, it's immediately like an aching weight removed from the length of your spine– one that's been there consistently for years. “He didn’t even want me to have her,” you scoff humorlessly.

You had told almost no one this before. For the sake of keeping appearances, even after he passed, only your mother and sister knew that Jeremy had pushed for you to terminate your pregnancy when he’d found out; and that only once your daughter was actually born did he want to be involved in her life. The burden felt shockingly easy to lay at Steve’s feet, like someone might confess to a priest. This tender man sitting across from you– whether it was the wine or simply his presence, you aren’t sure– but it felt so effortless to be vulnerable right now. Your soft, white underbelly on display for him to do as he pleases, trusting him to have a gentle touch.

“That fucking sucks,” he knows you well enough by now to understand you’ve never cared for empty platitudes, so he doesn’t bother schooling his bitter, empathetic expression, “M’ sorry,”

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, you say, “Your turn,”

“My old man was an abusive, drunk asshole,” he says frankly, “I don’t know if I ever saw him sober,” he huffs a laugh but there’s no humor behind it. “I needed to get out– to see what else there was, you know?” He asks, and you nod, “He died in my sophomore year of college. Didn’t even go to the wake.”

“Well, I’m really glad you ended up in this shithole,” he laughs at that, “I think you’re pretty neat, Harrington,”

“Thanks,” he deadpans, “Juries still out on you,” he pokes your side and you giggle like you’re a damn teenager again.

You swat him lightly on his bicep in retaliation, and before you know it, you’ve both succumbed to a fit of contagious laughter. When it begins to die down, you’re closer to him than you’d been before. It steals the breath from your lungs and your heart thrashes inside your ribcage like a wild animal.

You’re gazing at each other now, heads light from the alcohol and dizzy with proximity. His heavy lidded gaze lands on your lips for a second too long, and then he’s pulling your face flush to his own by the sharp edge of your jaw.

It’s a soft kiss, but it’s maddening nonetheless. His lips are plush and smooth– malleable against yours. You huff a surprised breath of air, but don’t pull away. One of his calloused hands is resting firmly on your waist while the other one snakes up tenderly to hold the back of your head. You feel that familiar itch to bury your fingers in his brown tresses, so finally, you do. What realistically only lasts a moment, feels like hours before he’s pulling away, nearly frightened.

When he looks at you, his doe eyes are wide with fear, glassy with the impending fallout of what he’d just done. He stammers, “I’m sorry–that was–” he runs his hands down the length of his guilt twisted face.

“No– Steve, It’s okay, I–”

“I should go–” he says quickly as he slips his shoes and coat on, not even bothering to tie the laces, he grabs his keys, “I’m sorry I’ll– I’ll see you on Monday,”

He’s closing the door behind him before your mind gets the chance to catch up with your mouth. You wished to tell him that it was okay, that you liked it– that you wanted him to stay and never leave again.

But it’s too late. You’re left alone in the stifling air of your living room, half a bottle of wine on the coffee table and your heart on the floor.

taglist - @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @mrsnarnian @negomi123 @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @jamdoughnutmagician @cali-888 @kolsmikaelson @1deverland @borhapparker @alexa4040 @chiliwhore @weonlysaidgoodbyewithwordss @paddockspookie42 @foxes-n-frogs @j-mlover383

divider cred - @cafekitsune

[satansagereranch]

Well, I'd love to join the game~!

🌷- To be frank, I just enjoy working with kids in general. So joyful and full of energy. They truly are a treat to work with. So when I got the task of being Satan's caregiver when I found out he regressed, I was eager to do so.

🎹 - I usually describe myself as a caregiver. It feels the most apt and natural one for me to use. That being said, I'm more than fine letting the little one choose whichever term they want to call me.

🫧 - With Satan? My ideal day with him is a nice day at the ranch, working on our emotions and how to express them healthily. I let him get some activity, an he does some mental health exercises with me to help him relax.

🧸- Satan is my regressor! You can see my blog for more details on what he's like.

🌼- I like it when Satan calls me Yogi. That's the nickname he made for me. I find it so endearing~!

🧃- Chamomile Tea without a doubt! I always keep packets with me everywhere so I have a readily brew-able cup ready~!

🎨- It's hard to pick between a tea party and reading books for me, to be honest. Both are really good activities. I suppose it depends on what my little one wants.

🍼 - No, I don't regress.

❤️‍🩹- I have a little plush of Belphegor I got for myself when I graduate medical school. Her luxuriously soft fur helps comfort me when I'm in need of reassurance.

💫- There's no right or wrong way to regress. How you feel and how your regression take form is no better or more correct than anyone else's. So don't beat yourself up feeling like you should be like other littles or that you're incorrect. You aren't. I promise you that much, little ones.

🐛- When with Satan, I call him Little Prince, Little Brimstone, and Fire Flower. He likes those nicknames. With other littles, I go by what they desire.

🍟- My favorite meal is Filet Mignon, if you can believe it. It's one of my favorite foods ever, ever since I got a taste of it during my "graduation from med school" party with my friends. As for snacks, a small smoothie always hits the spot. You can customize it with so many options, so you'll never get tired of them and can always spice them up with something interesting~!

🛁- As I said before, I've always enjoyed taking care of kids even before being introduced to the age regression community. So taking care of aggressors wasn't hard for me to find enjoyment in. I knew it for certain though the first time Satan looked me in the eyes and told me how glad he was to have me taking care of him. It was a moment of vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone, much less me, in his adult state. It's a moment I'll carry with me throughout my life.

🚗- The Beach. It's a beautiful place full of water and fun, and let's little ones be active!

🌈- I'm not sure if I have a particular favorite age range to work with. All of them are equally enjoyable to work with for me in my experience!

🪴- My favorite hobbies are meditation, arts and crafts, Incense and Candle making, and writing children's books. My work with Satan has been particularly helpful in giving me ideas for new books for little ones to enjoy~!

💌- I absolutely adore it when they make cute noises or ask for hugs or comfort. It never fails to bring a smile to my face!

💐- Don't be afraid to make mistakes and take it slow. New experiences can take a while to properly understand and test your limits and what you are and are not okay with. You'll make mistakes and you might even accidentally cross a boundary, and that's okay (within reason). Just be sure to communicate and be honest with yourself and people you share your experiences with that everyone can learn from it.

🌙- One of my favorite things to do with little ones is meditate and make incense. It's a calming activity that allows for conversation as well, letting me grow closer to the little one I'm interacting with.

🧺- I mostly care for littles in-person on the ranch, but I've been learning to help them online as well since I joined the community with Satan.

🥨- When I need to take a break, I ask to take some time to myself, go to my quiet space, and meditate or simply be for a bit, recentering my mind.

🐠- I prefer asks. No reason in particular, it's just my preference. I just ask little ones be cautious and know they're interacting with an adult. There are a lot of scary ones out there who want to take advantage of vulnerable littles.

(And on a personal note as the author of the blog, I will reiterate, I won't be friends with users under 18 for my and their own safety. They can send me asks, but NOT DMs. Not that I don't trust them, it's just a safety precaution for both our sakes. Thank you again for being understanding.)

🎀- I'm doing good. Thanks for asking!

(Author's Note: Personally, I've got a bit exit exam coming up for college. Big stuff, so a bit anxious. Wish me luck with that.)

🌿- I started the blog to give Satan a place to safely regress with other littles like him. He's always been a solitary little one and rarely interacts with anyone who isn't me or Queen Bee. I hoped by doing this and starting the ranch, he'd be able to embrace his little side more and not feeling he had to put on a defensive barrier to me and others to protect himself.

(Author's Note: I started the blog because I thought it would be cute to have a blog for Satan and Yogirt in the agere community. I had the idea ever since we first saw them in Mastermind in November last year.)

🍪- Love: The emotional connection and healing that comes with the activity. It's why I believe it should be more widely accepted in Hell.

Dislike: Cleaning up big messes. Though I accept and will not judge littles for making messes, they still aren't the most fun to clean up in the aftermath. Especially if it's a particularly stubborn stain. If it happens, I simply tell me little calmly but firmly to not make messes in the future and make sure they understand why it's important to not do so.

25 questions for agere caregivers, babysitters, & flips! 🍦🍃🍓

there aren’t very many cg-focused ask games (at least that i could find!) so i decided to just make one myself! feel free to send me an ask, or if you’re a cg/sitter/flip, rb and let others send you questions too!!

{NO K!NK/NSFW INTERACTION PLS!}

🌷— what do you enjoy most about caring for regressors?

🎹 — what term(s) do you prefer to describe yourself and how you care for little ones? (ie, a caregiver, carer, babysitter, or something else!)

🫧 — describe your ideal fun day with a kiddo! where would you go, what would you do?

🧸 — do you have a regressor of your own? if yes, tell me about them! if no, do you want one/more than one?

🌼 — what nicknames do you love to be called by a little one, if you have any you prefer?

🧃 — what’s your favorite drink?

🎨 — pick an activity to do with a baby: reading stories, having a tea party, baking cookies, or watching cartoons?

🍼 — do you regress yourself/are you a flip?

❤️‍🩹 — do you have any special comfort items?

💫 — is there anything you wish more age regressors knew? anything you want to tell them?

🐛 — what are your favorite nicknames to call regressors when they’re small? (assuming they like those names too, of course!)

🍟 — what’s your favorite meal or snack?

🛁 — how/when did you discover you enjoy caring for regressors?

🚗 — pick a place to take a little one: a playground, a beach, an amusement park, or an arcade?

🌈 — do you have an age range that you especially enjoy caring for? (to be clear: any and every age range is perfect and adorable!! this isn’t about which one is “best,” bc they’re all good!)

🪴 — what are some of your favorite hobbies? tell me a little bit about them!

💌 — what’s something age regressors do that you think is extra cute or endearing?

💐 — do you have any advice for newer caregivers/sitters?

🌙 — what is your favorite activity to do with a kiddo? (or, if you regress, to do together when you’re regressed too?)

🧺 — do you mostly care for kiddos online, in person, or both?

🥨 — how do you relax and destress? what helps you when you need a break?

🐠 — how do you feel about receiving asks or direct messages from little ones? do you prefer one over the other, or have any other boundaries about talking with you online?

🎀 — how is your day going? how are you really doing?

🌿 — if you have a caregiver/babysitter blog, what made you decide to start it?

🍪 — what’s one thing you love and one thing you dislike about age regression and/or caregiving?

[howspiitaldoll]

How i water fasted for 10 days straight in january ୨ৎ .ᐣ

1. The most important thing was, that i really had a serious goal to reach. I was extremely motivated, especially cause i had to look my best for a special day, so there was a date set, and i knew that i would be disappointed if i messed up.

2. I didn't jump straight into a fast. I slowly took -100 cals from my intake, adjusting my body slowly, this way it wasn't that much of a shock for it.

3. I drank a lot of water, and when i say a lot i mean i prepared a big cup with ice and sipped everytime i felt worse or hungry.

4. I slept good and long 🩰 Sleep is and will always be the best way to skip time. Everytime i would feel demotivated, even a little bit, i would get under my covers and take a nap. It also made me feel better during the day if i got good sleep.

5. One of the days i couldn't stand not tasting anything, so i got a zero sugar energy drink that was 2 cals for the whole thing, and i immediately felt better and felt like i could keep going.

6. I used a lot of distractions, the ones that always work for me. I really chose things that took time, so it was passing without me realising it. I played lots of games, watched shows, spent hours on pinterest or tiktok, called or texted my friends, made vision boards, did online shopping, and more!

7. I avoided two things - exercising and weighing myself. I always want to exercise bcuz i feel like im not doing enough, but for 10 days i decided to not do it to not make myself too weak. Instead i just moved around, cleaned my room or the house, took a short walk. I avoided weighing myself too much, bcuz it became a little demotivating, and i wanted to see the ultimate result at the end. (it was a nice suprise)

8. I used one of my fav things to do, i brushed my teeth to keep that minty feeling in my mouth, then put a lip product on my lips, when i do this it makes me not want to put anything in my mouth to not ruin the feeling.

9. I motivated myself everyday, with whatever i could. I looked at my saved photos, searched for motivation on tiktok and tumblr, i opened my notes and wrote all the reasons why i want it to work.

10. I kept writing in my diary, which allowed me to express all of my emotions there, when i didn't want to post some of the thoughts or share it with anyone, i just wanted to let it out somewhere. (my diary listened very well)

11. If i really needed the feeling of actually chewing smth, i made and crushed ice cubes and kept biting on them.

12. I avoided drinking energy drinks (even though i did drink one that one day), i know most of us here love the zero ones, including me, but i really didn't want to make myself shaky.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hey there!

This month felt endless, am I right? Can’t believe it’s finally over.

This is a list of all the fics I read in January, I started writing it at the beginning of the month so they are in chronological order based on when I read them.

There’s a lot of stories but I still feel like I haven’t read enough lol

I loved every single work on this list so I highly recommend for you to read them and give some love to authors! They’re unbelievably talented and bring so much joy to this fandom, someone even in my life but this is another story.

I put the link to the Masterlist for series, so you can see all the chapters, some of them are ongoing and some are finished.

Please mind the tags and warnings to make sure a story doesn’t trigger you and makes you uncomfortable, I’m not responsible for what you choose to read, only you are.

Happy reading!

❋ Consume - @sunshineispunk

Stepdad!Joel x reader , DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

❋ Liquid Gold - @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Joel Miller x f pregnant!reader x Tommy Miller

You are super pregnant and currently miserable after a third trimester issue crops up. You don’t know how to fix it, and Joel is determined to make you comfortable again. Will he come up with the right solution or are you going to spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in awful pain? (Lactat!on kink)

❋ The First Time - @fettuccin-e

Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Size kink

❋ Mouthful - @pedgito

Joel miller x reader

Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

❋ Holiday Heat - @baronessvonglitter

Joel Miller x f!reader

Only one bed trope, grumpy x sunshine, age gap, strangers to lovers

Sharing a hotel room with a grumpy (and handsome) stranger while a storm makes travel inaccessible. What could possibly go wrong?

❋ The Warden - @arcanefox207

Joel Miller x f!reader - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

❋ Quicksand - @javier-pena

Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

You meet a stranger at a party

❋ Borrowed Time - @aurorawritestoescape

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.

❋ After hours - @mssalo

Sub!Joel x Dom f!reader

❋ Wandering Hands - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

Javi can't keep his hands off you during a dinner with some friends.

❋ Strangers - @joelmillerisapunk

Stripper!Javier Peña x f!reader

you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

❋ Law of Attraction - @baronessvonglitter (Series Masterlist link)

Dave York x f!reader - Romcom AU

Dealing with emotions is difficult when you and Dave realize how you really feel about each other. When a night in turns sour, you seek help from an unexpected source.

❋ Easy - @slowdivinqs

Joel Miller x f!reader

waking Joel up in the best way possible.

❋ Bad blood - @aurorawritestoescape (Series Masterlist link)

you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help

step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

❋ Never have I ever - @wannab-urs

Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy.

❋ My paramour, my evermore - A Joel Miller Story - @schnarfer (Knights and Kings AU)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel Miller is the loss of your life

❋ Let's Go - @thundermartini DBF!Joel x f!reader

you decide to channel your inner party girl on this Friday night. But things won’t go as planned. You’ll get even more from this night than a dance in a club and free drinks from strangers. (Or, I just wanted a pretext to imagine bouncer!joel railing me in the back room of a club.

❋ Yes ma’am - @sizzlingcloudmentality

Dave York x dominatrix!reader

life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.

❋ Untitled - @aurorawritestoescape

Joel’s twin x f!reader || 500 words

❋ Girl Dinner - @slimybeth69 Dead dove do not eat (Series Masterlist link)

Joel Miller x f!reader

After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

❋ Foxglove Downs - @whocaresstillthelouvre (Series Masterlist link)

Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucius Verus

In the exclusive realm of elite show jumping, where wealth stretches as far as the polished estates, Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus are locked in a fierce competition that reaches far beyond the arena.

❋ No strings to hold me down - @baronessvonglitter

fwb!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Enjoying the freedom of being friends with benefits with Joel Miller, a new emotion flares when you see him out with someone much younger.

❋ What’s a Tomdaya? - @604to647

Modern!Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends

❋ Prisoner - @almostempty

f!reader x Din Djarin

this time our fav bounty hunter is the bounty and you're on a mission to capture him and claim your reward

❋ Final part of the neighbor series - Masterlist - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

❋ All the good girls go to hell - Masterlist - @aurorawritestoescape

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader

you can't stop thinking about your stepdad so you do something risky to have a little more of him. But Joel is not the "little more" kind of guy.

❋ Close-up - @milla-frenchy

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you

❋ El cumpleañero - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.

❋ Reincarnated - @joelmillerisapunk

Joel Miller x f!reader

A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

❋ Leather and Lace - @probablyreadinsmut

Javier Peña x f!reader

Javier Peña is back in Loredo after retiring from the DEA. He's horny and looking for something new. That's when he finds you.

❋(Un)faithful - @probablyreadinsmut

Rbf!Javier x Married!Reader

Your marriage is lackluster, your sex life even more so. When your best friend Javier finds out, lines are crossed and lives are changed forever.

❋ some thoughts on hbf (husband's best friend) joel @baronessvonglitter / Drabble

❋ BDSMaid - @mountainsandmayhem (Series Masterlist link)

After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

[enwoso]

Could you write something maybe about Lucy Bronze having a younger sister that plays for Arsenal and she’s been dating Katie McCabe for a while but hasn’t told Lucy because she’s very overprotective and because of Lucy and Katie’s unspoken “rivalry” . Then at lionesses camp Lucy finds out by accident and they are playing Ireland next so the match is all a bit of chaos but the it all turns out fine and Katie and Lucy both just tease reader together?

Your work is amazing by the way!!

GAME OF HEARTS | katie mccabe x bronze!reader

masterlist

"i'm really gonna miss ya" katie spoke softly as the two of you soaked up your last morning together before you both went off on international camp.

you wrapped up in the warmth of katie's arms as every so often she peppered kisses along your collarbone, your eyes still closed as you hummed along to her words every so often to show you were listening.

"babe, i'll see you in four days" you rasped out as you moved slightly to turning so that you were facing the irish women as you could feel her chest rise up and down as you lay on it.

the two of you due to play each other in the upcoming fixtures, england travelling to ireland for the game. you being a little upset having to play against your girlfriend but it was only for 90' and then you could go back to being in your little love bubble.

"still- am i not allowed to miss my gorgeous, funny, beautiful, sexy girlfriend?" katie said with a her signature grin on her face as you opened your eyes, staring right back at the girl.

"your such a sap-" you whispered as she placed a kiss to your cheek, playfully rolling her eyes at your comment.

"yeah but only for you, and plus you love it little bronze" katie teased as now it was your turn to roll your eyes as she knew how much the nickname wound you up, lucy of course being the one who so proudly began the trend of calling you by that it was now something majority called you at international camps as well as by some of the girls at club level.

"oh actually" you paused for a second to let out a yawn, as katie moved a strand of hair from the side of your face tucking it behind your ear.

"please can we knock it down a level when it comes to my sister when we play against each other on tuesday" you pleaded, as a small glint in your eyes as you tried to convince the girl knowing the chaos which occurs in the league when the two come face to face.

you know it's just what happens when two very passionate players bump heads but you heard both versions of the story and adding fuel to that fire by telling your older sister that you were dating her arch nemesis may not go very well with a tray of cakes and a nice chat to say the least.

a sigh left katie's lips she understood why you were asking cause at the end of the day lucy was your older sister — someone you looked up to dearly and someone who protected you at all costs and she herself would do anything for any one of her sisters but katie also had a goal and that was to win.

"baby, i love ya but that's like askin' me to wear a tottenham shirt" katie grimaced at the thought of that even happening, it sending a slight shiver down your own spine.

—

being lucy's younger sister definitely came with its perks, like when lucy was first making her debuts you got to meet all the cool footballing idols you watched growing up and to be totally honest you were still able to do it now.

but on the other hand, she was still your sister. fiercely protective, sometimes too protective, and of course you always had your disagreements as well as the fact lucy knew all the ways to get under your skin. she was the typical big sister.

but when it came to football? she always had an opinion. especially when it involved arsenal and a certain player from there too. which just of course happened to be your girlfriend — katie.

the two of you had been together for just over seven months. you were keeping things quiet, it was a secret by no means you just hadn't exactly admitted to being in a relationship with the irish girl.

and as for your excuse for not telling lucy, well it just had never came up in a conversation.

so as camp rolled around and the upcoming friendly against ireland loomed in the next few days, you knew you had to be careful. but keeping secrets while sharing the same pitch as your sister, that was proving to be harder than you thought.

as you sat with a few teammates in the lounge area, scrolling through your phone and trying to mind your own business as lucy strode in.

her arrival as always was impossible to ignore, her energy filling the space effortlessly and her voice carried above the casual chatter.

"oi, y/n" lucy called out, waving something on her phone in the air a slight mischievous glint in her eye, "what's this, then?"

you glanced up, already dreading whatever was coming, knowing she loved to find some thing to take the mick out of you for.

lucy flopped down next to you as she thrusted her phone into your hands. it was a video posted by katie, to her story captioned 'reminiscing🩷', reliving a moment from a festival she'd gone to in the summer, you recognising it immediately as you were there two.

"i.. what am i looking at?"

"just wait"

just as the words left lucy's lips, the video flipped as the camera had been turned to face katie and that when your eyes went a little wider and your cheeks definitely went a little redder.

there was you, your arms wrapped around her waist as you head rested on her shoulder a lovesick smile on your face as you sung along to the music as katie had a massive smile on her face.

lucy squinted at you as you lowered her phone keeping it still in your hands, as her brow furrowed. "care to explain why you're looking at katie mccabe like she's just won you the world cup?"

your stomach lurched, you were usually so careful but this was clear as day as you scrambled to downplay it. "come on luce, you know we're close at club level your just being dramatic. we're just teammates"

lucy tilted her head, clearly not convinced, "a teammate thing?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "that's not the ‘teammate' look. that's the 'i fancy you' look"

you opened your mouth to try and protest but nothing came out. your brain working overtime trying to figure out how to talk your way out of this when leah wandered into the room.

spotting lucy's phones in your hand, glancing at your panicked face and grinned knowingly. "oh has she found out then?" leah said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "took you long enough!"

lucy's eyes darted between you and leah, "found out what?"

"leah, shut up" you hissed shooting her a warning glare.

leah just completely ignoring you as she continued, "about katie, it's not exactly a secret anymore y/n. everyone with eyes can see there something going on between the two of you and i don't mean by just watching that small video on instagram-"

lucy's expression shifted from teasing to something more serious, as she leaned back slightly her arms crossed. "wait you and katie? that's.. actually a thing. i though they were just silly tiktok rumours?"

you hesitated, fiddling nervously with the hem of your hoodie. "yeah" you admitted not daring to look at your sisters gaze. "it's been a while, i didn't tell you because well — i didn't want to make thing weird. you and katie don't exactly.. get along"

lucy stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable before she let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing. "weird? y/n i know i might be protective but i'm not a monster and that's just match banter. if she makes you happy then that's all that matters."

you blinked, slightly surprised at her sudden acceptance, "really, your okay with it?"

lucy smirked as she nodded, "yeah, but don't think i'm going easy on her when we play against ireland. she's still getting crunched in the tackles-"

you let out a small groan, "lucy!" as a chorus of laughter came from your sister, "i'm kidding.. well maybe." she whispered at the end but you still heard.

you laughed along, the weight suddenly lifting from your chest, as leah who had been watching the entire exchange with an amused grin, chimed in clapping her two hands together, "well that went better than expected!"

lucy raised an eyebrow at her, "don't think you're off the hook either williamson, if you knew and didn't tell me, your just as bad as her!"

leah held up her hands in mock surrender, "hey i figured it out myself, and plus it ain't my business and it was way more fun watchin' y/n squirm!"

you groaned as you buried your face in your hands as lucy and leah shared a laugh at your expense. but despite their teasing you couldn't help but feel relieved.

—

the match had ended in ireland, and the tensions from the ninety minute game between the players had melted away into the usual camaraderie of the post game routine.

players from both teams chatting, swapping shirts and taking photo as they celebrated another memorable clash as england had won, securing there space in the euros in switzerland.

katie and lucy were stood near the center circle, locking into a playful debate. from a distance you could see katie gesturing animatedly whilst lucy stood with her arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly on her lips.

curiosity and a little apprehension pulled you towards them, "what's going on here?" you as as you approached.

"oh just discussing which side of london is superior" katie said with a cheeky grin, titling her head slightly towards lucy. "you know london is better red, i'm sure you agree"

lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes, "please mccabe, london is blue on a whole different level."

"yeah yeah," katie said with a dramatic wave of her hand, "you guys are ok, i'll give you that but people who have a good sense of football know which is the better side of london"

lucy smirked, leaning forward slightly. "shame you picked the wrong side of it then."

katie gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror, "the wrong side? you mean the side which had trophies and the history to back it up?"

you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose knowing the two of them well enough to know neither of them were going to back down, "you two realise you're both ridiculous, right?"

ignoring you, katie pulled her phone out of her pocket. "we should document this moment, don't you think" she waved lucy closer, "cmon bronze, let's get a picture. and maybe one day you'll see the light and come to the proper side of london"

lucy rolled her eyes but stepped in next to katie, you stood awkwardly nearby as katie held out her phone for a selfie the pair throwing exaggerated smiles.

right as the photo snapped, katie nudged lucy with her elbow and said, "awe that's a cute photo to. shame you play for the wrong side of london."

lucy snorted, glancing at the photo, "your lucky i don't delete this right now."

katie grinned, "it's fine, just caption it: 'the day bronze met greatness!'"

lucy laughed, shaking her head, "greatness? that's rich coming from someone who can't even make it past the quarterfinals in the champions league-"

katie gasped, turning to you, "babe you better defend me and the club now or i'm tellin' everyone you still steal my hoodies!"

you threw your hands up in exasperation a small laugh coming from your lips, "oh no don't drag me into this. you both know where my loyalty's lie."

"your sisters impossible, you know that? she doesn't appreciate brilliance." katie leaned against you dramatically sighing.

lucy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself, "brilliance? that's what they call it these days?"

katie tolled her eyes playfully as you just laughed, following the two of them as they both started to walk towards the tunnel. along with other players starting to make their way of the pitch.

katie had that familiar glint in her eye, the one that softened your heart no matter how chaotic the game had been.

"i'm goin' to go catch up the ma team," katie said as she reached out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind you ear.

her touch was gentle and calm unlike her totally opposite persona on the field. a smile lingering on your face despite the lingering adrenaline from the match.

she leaned in, pressing a quick but soft kiss to your lips as she whispered, "i love you."

you heart swelled as you whispered it back, "i love you, too"

katie turned as she waved to your older sister as she star tee d to walk away, "see you soon bronze! don't miss me too much!"

lucy just shook her head muttering something under her breath as katie disappeared towards the irish team.

"what was that?" you asked an eyebrow raising as you turned to her.

lucy huffed, crossing her arms, "i said i don't think i’ll ever get used to that."

you laughed nudging your older sisters shoulder playfully, "you'll have to she's not going anywhere luce!"

katie fully disappearing in the tunnel as she turned a corner as lucy tuned to you with a grin, but it wasn't the usually teasing one.

"i like her." she said pausing for effect, "but she's still completely wrong about london."

you laughed shaking your head, "i don't think she's ever going to stop trying to convince you and it's two against one. london is red."

"your both wrong.." lucy said with a smirk, "but besides that i think she's good for you." you smiled softly "thanks, luce."

lucy clapped you on the shoulder, her usual teasing grin returning. "now come on. let's go find some post-match food before mccabe comes back and starts another argument."

you laughed, following her into the tunnel, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief. katie and lucy might still have their friendly battles, but they were your battles now, filled with teasing and love from the two most important people in your life.