#it's a constant feel of worry for no reason and its been hard to breathe my head hurts i'm nauseous im shaking constantly

[mooodyblue]

🫠

[fantasylandloser]

Not Flirting

Pairing; Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You and Rafe want each other so bad.

Warnings: smut, mdni, Public sex, smoking, shotgunning, two uses of slut and one use of good girl, Rafe calling the reader kiddo in flirty way

******

You’re not flirting with Rafe Cameron. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself anyway. The casual touches, and the constant bickering that presents like foreplay is how the two of you have always been. Right?

The two of you don’t even talk outside of when you’re with your mutual friends. That’s probably why you seem so focused on each other. And the only reason the air around you is so charged with sexual tension is because- well he’s Rafe. He could have chemistry with a doorknob. It is not flirting. 

You’ve told nearly every person that’s been in contact with you something similar to those words that you’ve been trying to convince yourself of. Nobody believes you, sadly you’re not even stupid enough to believe it. That doesn’t stop you from trying though.

It helps you feel less guilty about wanting his attention, and having it. He’s a known fuck boy on the island and you’ve been sort of friends since high school, but after graduating your friend group got smaller and it was hard to ignore him. 

You tried to sometimes, but it never worked. The pull the two of you had on each other was too damn magnetic. Like at this party you were at. He’d found you accidentally, laughing with some people, your bikini practically melded with your skin after a dip in the water. 

You don’t see him when he walks behind you, but the way the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, you know it’s him. So, you don’t panic when his arms wrap around your shoulders, or when he takes your cup and drinks out of it, even though he knows you hate that. 

“Hey, kid.” You roll your eyes at the nickname he’d given you when he found out about the one year age gap between the two of you. You hate yourself a little for the smile you feel making its way onto your face. 

“Don’t start.” Rafe doesn’t acknowledge that, or the people that were around you because he starts pulling you away from them. “Where are you taking me?” You wish you could sound like you actually cared but you’d go with him regardless. 

“We’re smoking.” He whispers, his breath fanning the outside of his ear. 

You twist your lips in apprehension and Rafe must have a sixth sense for you at this point because he eases your mind immediately. 

“Don’t worry, kiddo. It’s more your speed than mine.” Again, you roll your eyes. You don’t stop him from walking you towards wherever he’s going though. 

“I don’t even-” 

“I know, I know. “ Rafe groans. You reach back to flick him for interrupting you and he finally lets go of you since you’re walking with him willingly. “Just trust me.” You miss his body heat the second that it’s gone but you’re going to blame it on being cold, even though it’s ninety degrees out. 

You mock him childishly, to ignore the heat that crawls through your body when you look at him. You remember him saying something about cutting his hair off, and then you teasing him and saying it would look bad. You just thought his long hair added to his cuteness. You were very wrong. 

“Oh you did it.” He lets you run your hand over his buzzed head, while you walk beside him. 

“Mhm.” He smirks and you already know what’s coming. “Is it as bad as you thought it would be?” But he knows it isn’t because you are not subtle in checking him out and his ego is bigger than the sun. 

“It’s somehow worse.”You taunt only to be met with a tug on your hair. It’s childish and violently in character for Rafe. He smiles at the squeak you let out and laughs when you push him back. 

“Yeah, whatever you like it.” Your conversation is cut short when your presence is noticed by your other friends.

“Where have you been all night?” Kelce asks from the hammock he’s lying in. 

“Up your butt.” You answer obnoxiously, skipping over to your friend Natalie’s lap and giving her a hug. You could tell she was a little high on something you didn’t want. 

“I think that is the last place you’d wanna be.” Topper says, patting your head and you can tell he’s been drinking by the way he slurs. 

The conversation between you and your friends is mindless while Rafe rolls the blunt on the patio table. You tried not to stare at his fingers as he did so. Or look at him too hard as he licked the paper. You failed. 

You try not to think too much of it when he’s finally done and he beckons you over, or when he pulls you in his lap, like that's normal. Once again, you fail. It takes you all over two seconds to get comfortable once he wraps his arm around you though and you’re used to ignoring your friends' looks by now. 

You’re a little nervous once he lights it but he brings it to his lips first and you really want your lips to be on that blunt all of a sudden. When he hands it to you, you try to mimic what he had done but you can tell you did it wrong immediately. 

“Inhale, kid.” You try again, you kind of feel it this time. 

“Lemme see.” He takes it from you and inhales the smoke, which you’re pretty sure is like illegal when it comes to rotation, but you don’t say so. You’re a little surprised when he grips your jaw firm and gentle, before blowing the smoke into your mouth.

“Inhale”  You do so, trying your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.

 “Good girl.” He says finally releasing your jaw. You choke on the smoke in your lungs as he passes off the joint. Rubbing his hand on your back, immediately reminding you how naked you are in just your bikini. 

“I hate you.” You say once you’ve finally gathered yourself, but it holds no weight as you lean back into him. 

*****

You’re horny. That’s all you can think about by the time your friends and you stop smoking. Everyone had dispersed by now and it was just you and Rafe with you still sitting sideways across his lap. 

“I can feel you.” You squint eyeing your position.

“It would be concerning if you couldn’t.” You're well aware that your skin was touching his. He shakes his head, propping his hand right to the pulse in between your legs that was only covered by the thin layer of your bikini bottoms. 

“You’re fucking throbbing.” Your words are caught in your throat at the sensation of him rubbing you. Intensified by your high and how long you’ve been wanting him.

“Someone is gonna see.” You finally get out, trying to shift your legs. 

‘Good for them.” When he grabs your jaw this time, it’s to kiss you and you immediately forget whatever it was that you were worried about. He lets you shift around until you’re straddling him, kissing him back with equal fervor. 

“So you do like my hair.” He says panting once, you finally give him room to breathe. 

“What hair?” You softly scrape your nails down the nape of his neck. He sniggers, when you begin grinding against him. And he’s a little shocked when you pull his hard dick out his shorts. 

“And what’re you gonna do with that?”

“Sit on it.” Rafe moans, he’s not sure if it’s at your words or the hickey you’re currently sucking into his neck. Possessive. He finds himself noting. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add, and he almost laughs at the fact that you’re giving him an out. 

“I do.” You’re so excited to fuck him you forget how much of a stretch he would be. But it’s too late to care once you start, you brutally force yourself to take half, ignoring your own pained whimpers at the sound of Rafe gasping into your neck. 

Despite himself, Rafe grabs your ass so that you can’t go any further. “Eager little slut.” 

“You started it.” You accuse after catching your breath. “You’re the slut.” Your voice is whiny, which is unlike you and Rafe can’t help but wonder if that’s a result of you being out of your mind horny or high.

“You’re the one that’s making a mess all over the both of us.” He says gesturing to the slick skin in between the both of you. While he’s talking you continue to take him deeper, nipping at the skin on his neck. He stops you again from taking more of him.

“Too much for you, kiddo.” You push past his hand in an act of rebellion, your ass meeting the top of his thighs. The stinging pain only makes you regret that action a little, but the look in his eye makes it worth it. 

‘Fuck” He lets you continue to bounce on him for a minute, but once you start to finally find your rhythm he starts bucking his hips back into yours. He’s pleased when you can no longer hold back your moans.

“Rafe!” And he knows that warning anywhere, especially mixed in with the way you clench around him. 

“Yeah? You like that?” Your answer to him is nearly gibberish as your body begins to convulse. And initially Rafe had every intention of pulling out, but the thought washes from his memory at the feeling of you. He groans as he finishes inside you, not utterly appalled by the idea of getting you pregnant. 

Once you catch your breath, you laugh a little to yourself. “I guess I like your haircut.”

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU !

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. enemy! park jongseong x fem! reader synopsis. you and jay had always despised each other- at least that’s what you thought until jay got a girlfriend, your true hidden feelings making its way to the surface- uh oh.. genre. angst ,, fluff ,, wc. 2500. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ this is so labyrinth coded 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! <3

YOU HAD KNOWN PARK JONGSEONG FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, AND YOU HATED HIM FOR NEARLY JUST AS LONG.

from the very first moment you laid eyes on him in kindergarten, he had been nothing but a thorn in your side. it all started when you had asked the young boy to be friends- instead of a yes, you got water spat on your face as he cackled at you- yes, cackled.

you despised him. his teasing, his smirks, his constant attempts to one-up you in every single aspect of life—it all grated on your nerves, day after day.

the relationship between you and jay was well-known. your friends and family had long since accepted it as a fact of life. you couldn't bare to stand him, and he couldn't stand you. it’s as simple as that.

until it wasn't.

the first crack in your carefully constructed wall of hatred came when jay got a girlfriend. her name was minji, and she was everything you were not—soft-spoken, gentle, and sweet. she was always by his side, laughing at his jokes, holding his hand. it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. in fact, you should have been relieved. if he was busy with his girlfriend, maybe he would leave you alone for once in your years of living.

but it didn't feel like relief. it felt like something else entirely, something you knew was wrong, something sharp and painful that you couldn't quite place. you found yourself watching them more than you would care to admit, your eyes drawn to the way he looked at her, his eyes sparkling, the way he touched her. and with each passing day, the ache in your chest grew stronger, more insistent. more unbearable.

you really did try to ignore it, to push it away deep inside of you and pretend it didn't exist, but it was no use. the feelings you had harboured for so long, hidden beneath layers of anger, resentment, and pride were bubbling up to the surface. you were falling for him, and you were falling deep. it was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced as a teenage girl.

so, you did the only reasonable thing you could think of, you avoided him. you stopped going to places where you knew he would be, you stopped engaging in the petty arguments that had once been a staple of your interactions and everyday life. you had distanced yourself as much as you possibly could, hoping that the feelings would fade away with time.

but jay noticed. of course he did. and he didn't like it one bit.

one evening after school, after yet another successful day of avoiding jay, you found yourself cornered in the hallway of your apartment building, which he knew the address of from a day where you were sick, and delivered you your missed homework and soup, which he claimed he was forced to deliver to you.

he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of confusion, a bit of sadness? and anger.

"what's your problem, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and tense. "why have you been avoiding me, huh?"

you crossed your arms, shaking off the butterflies from talking to him for the first time in weeks, trying to keep your composure. "i haven't been avoiding you," you lied, your voice shaken and unsteady

"bullshit," he snapped. "you've been avoiding me for weeks. did i do something to piss you off more than usual? because if i did, ill fix it.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "it's nothing, don’t worry. just leave me alone, jay."

"no," he said, stepping closer. "i won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, y/n." he whispered.

his proximity made it hard to breathe, let alone think. the scent of his cologne, the intensity of his gaze—it was all way too much for you to bare. you could feel the walls you had so carefully built around your heart beginning to crumble.

"why do you care?" you shot back, your voice trembling anxiously. "you have minji now. go bother her for all i care!”

jay's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with a frown. "this isn't about minji. this is about you and me. why are you avoiding me?"

"because i can't stand you! being around you!" you shouted angrily, the words bursting from you before you could stop them.

"why?" he demanded, his voice rising. "what did i do that's so bad you can't even be in the same room as me?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. but the emotions that have been building inside you the past few weeks were too strong, too overwhelming. you couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"because i’m in love with you, okay?" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "i love you, and it hurts to see you with somebody that’s not me..”

for a moment, there was silence. jay stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the pounding of your heart in your ears, as you cursed under your breathe shutting your eyes anxiously in panic.

"you… love me?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to speak. the confession had left you feeling raw and vulnerable, and you didn't know what to do next.

jay's expression hardened, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you fell onto your knees and sobbed, you sobbed for your broken heart and for the loss of the relationship you had with jay- gone forever.

the next two weeks were a blur of constant pain and complete and utter embarrassment. jay ignored you completely, avoiding you at every turn. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to distract yourself from the aching heartbreak and void inside you. your friends noticed the change, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain. how could you tell them that the person you had hated for so long had become the one you loved? and even worse, broke your heart.

you saw jay and minji together more often than you would have liked. each time, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart. but you forced yourself to smile, to act like everything was fine. it was the only way you knew how to cope.

one day, while you were sitting in the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts, someone sat down next to you. you looked up to see taehyun, one of your friends from class. his presence was a welcome distraction from the feelings inside you.

"hey," he said, patting your shoulder giving you a warm smile. "you look like you could use some company."

you smiled back, grateful for his kindness. "yeah, i guess i could."

taehyun was easy to talk to, he was kind and understanding, and before long, you found yourself laughing and joking with him. it was a relief to feel something other than pain for the first time in the last few weeks, even if it was only for a little while. he pulled you into a hug, after you had finally opened up about your situation and you let yourself relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, sniffling away your tears.

unbeknownst to you, jay was watching from a distance. he had come to the courtyard to clear his head from everything, from the confusion and the dull feeling in his heart, but the sight of you with taehyun stopped him in his tracks. the way you laughed, the way you hugged him—it should have made him happy to see you smiling again after breaking your heart. but instead, it filled him with a burning jealousy and sadness.

seeing you with taehyun brought everything into sharp focus. and it suddenly hit him- he realized that he had been a fool, pushing you away when he should have been holding you close. he couldn't deny it anymore longer—he was deeply in love with you. and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you to somebody else.

jay knew what he had to do- that evening, jay broke up with minji. it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, she was a kind and sweet girl, but he knew it was the right thing. minji deserved someone who could love her- and that wasn’t him. his heart had always belonged to you.

the next day, jay found you sitting alone in the library, studying and deep in focus. he approached anxiously and cautiously, his heart feeling like it was about to explode in his chest.

"can we talk please?" he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked up, surprise and shock flickering in your eyes before looking down again. "kinda busy- what do you want, jay?"

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "i'm sorry. for everything, y/n. i never should have ignored you. i was in denial, i was scared and confused, but that's no excuse."

you stayed silent anxiously playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

"i broke up with minji," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because i realized something that took a while for me to realize but i’m here now- i realized that i'm in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "you… you what?”

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i’m so in love with you" he repeated, his voice breaking as his eyes shined with sincerity. "i've been in love with you for a long time, but i was too stupid to see it. and when you told me how you felt, it scared the hell out of me. i didn't know how to handle it, so i pushed you away. but i can't do that anymore."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear. "do you really mean it?" you whispered.

jay nodded, his gaze unwavering. "i mean it. i love you. and if you'll give me a chance, i promise i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, please y/n.”

you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. but all you saw was honesty, a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"i don't know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "you hurt me, jay. a lot."

"i know," he said, his voice breaking as he cups your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours. "and i'm so, so sorry. but i'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. i promise."

for a long moment, you stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in. and then, slowly, you nodded. "okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "one chance, jay. but if you hurt me again, that's it. i'm done."

jay's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. he reached out, taking your hand in his, looking into your eyes for permission as you nodded with a soft grin.

jays lips feel soft against yours, you spent many nights wondering what it would be like to be like to kiss jay, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. jay was true to his word, doing everything in his power to prove himself to you. he showed up at your door with your favourite coffee order every morning, walked you to your classes with your hand in his, and spent every spare moment with you. he was attentive, kind, thoughtful, and for the first time, truly present.

your friends noticed the change in him too. they saw the way he looked at you, hearts in his eyes and the way he treated you with a newfound gentleness and adoration. it was clear to everyone that park jay was a changed man, and it was all because of you.

but there were still moments of where you were in denial, times when the past hurt you felt would come back, casting a shadow over your happiness. the moment came to you on a rainy afternoon, the weather complimenting your mood as you sat together in a quiet café. the rain pattered against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

jay gave you a knowing look as he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

"i love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i know i've said it before, but i need you to know how much you mean to me. you're my everything, so get those thoughts out of your head, mmh?”

he said pulling you into a soft kiss across the table.

tears welled up in your eyes at his words. it was everything you had ever wanted to hear, but the fear still lingered, a dark cloud over your heart.

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared, jay. i'm scared of getting hurt again- it was so bad.” you said as you closed your eyes with a trembling voice.

jay's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes shining with determination and love. "i know," he said. "and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have nothing to fear. i will never hurt you again, i promise baby.”

time passed, and true to his word, jay continued to be the man you deserved. he was patient, understanding, and never once pressured you. he was there for you in ways he had never been before, and slowly but surely, the trust and reassurance began to appear.

one warm night, as you sat together on the same playground jay had rejected you on as kids, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"i can’t bare losing you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "you're my everything."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love. "you won't," you said, your voice steady and sure. "we're in this together, you can’t get rid of me that easily."

you both threw your heads back, laughing together as the moonlight shined down on you.

and as he held you close, you knew that no matter what pain he had caused you before- you knew that your love for each other was stronger than anything else.

@won4kiss 2024

[vettelsvee]

I DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR WINNING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 2 here

summary: y/n thinks she's sick from f1 traveling stress, but what if that's not the reason of her sickness?

word count: 992

warnings: hints of having sex. mentions of wishing to die (because reader is sick af). use of y/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

It was barely five in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon of the city of Berlin. Sebastian and you, without having been able to rest after the German Grand Prix that had taken place just hours ago, were at the airport of the German capital, ready to head to Hungary, where the next Formula 1 competition would be held.

You were aware that following the lifestyle of a high-level racing driver was not easy. However, you didn't think that getting eight hours of sleep or having free time would become privileges that you would have, in part, during the holiday period. Despite the excitement that filled you every time you embarked on a new destination, you had been feeling unwell for several days, and no matter how hard you tried to remedy it, all you did was worsen it.

Seb, who knew you well enough to know that something was wrong, tried not to make a big deal out of it. He knew that you tended to get sick frequently, although the fact that you was quieter than usual and didn't have as much energy as usual started to worry the blonde who, at the moment of takeoff, observed carefully as your face grew paler, while you gripped the armrest of the seat tightly.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sebastian asked with concern.

You tried to breathe deeply to calm the wave of nausea you were feeling right now.

"Yes," you simply replied, faking a smile. "I just feel a little uncomfortable with takeoff, you know airplanes and I are not friends. Stop worrying, love. You'll see it'll pass soon."

Despite your multiple reassurances, Seb couldn't convince himself. Your eyes reflected how you felt, and he had no doubt that you were hiding something from him to avoid worrying him.To try to relax you, he leaned towards you to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I know you've told me you're okay, but if you start feeling worse, let me know, okay?"

You nodded, silently thanking the German for his concern.

Although he tried not to make a big deal out of it, the truth was that as the flight progressed towards its destination, you felt worse, even reaching the point where nausea turned into frequent trips to the bathroom to vomit, and constant dizziness into a desire to faint and not wake up for a few days.

"Seb, I swear… I can't deal with this anymore."

After suddenly getting up from your seat, hurrying to the bathroom trying not to cause too much commotion among the other passengers, you quickly locked yourself in the small cubicle, bending over the toilet to empty everything you didn't know you had inside yourself. Sebastian watched with concern as you fled, trying not to lose his composure under the curious gaze of those present, including a few Red Bull engineers.

“Y/N!”, Seb called out as quietly as he could, anxious because you weren’t responding. “Are you okay? Please, open the door.”

You didn't answer him, which only heightened Vettel's anxiety. He fixed his gaze on the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out and give him some explanation of what was happening.

After what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the bathroom with a completely pale face and a tired look. Sebastian simply pulled her close to his chest and held her tightly in an embrace.

"Love, what's wrong?" he said anxiously. "I need to know what's going on. Things can't continue like this if you're going to keep accompanying me. I'm sure it's getting to you: everything is overwhelming you and..."

Suddenly, you began to cry from the helplessness you were feeling, causing Sebastian to hold you even tighter, stroking your back to help you relax as much as possible.

"I can't take it anymore, Seb. I feel awful. I want to die right now."

"We should seek help," he said, wiping your tears away. "We'll see what we can do now to keep you as relaxed as possible for the remainder of the flight, okay? And when we land, we'll go to an emergency room to see what's wrong with you."

Sebastian then called one of the flight attendants in their area and explained the distressing situation, emphasizing that he wouldn't want anyone to find out to avoid conflicts with both the media and his team. The flight attendant simply nodded and informed them to return to their seats, immediately assisting the world champion's partner.

"Mrs. Vettel, here's some water and an aspirin," the woman kindly offered you. "Additionally, I've informed the crew about your wife's situation," she said, now looking at the blonde, "and they confirmed that if she gets worse, there's no problem in making an emergency landing at the nearest airport."

"I'm not Sebastian's wife..."

"Thank you very much," the driver interrupted, thanking the flight attendant for her assistance.

The German began to laugh at your reaction as soon as the woman left.

"You should have seen your face, Y/N. You can't deny that you didn't mind being referred to as my wife," Seb said, stroking your hair and opening the water bottle for you to take a sip.

The flight continued, and although the nausea had been brought under control, the discomfort persisted. The couple was aware that there was only, thankfully, about half an hour of travel left.

"Darling," Sebastian whispered sweetly. "Close your eyes and focus on your breathing: inhale through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. I'm here, hold my hand."

You followed your partner's instructions, allowing yourself to be guided by his voice, which was truly comforting in those moments, in each inhalation and exhalation. Gradually, you began to feel calmer, and you would even swear that you hadn't felt this way in several days.

Finally, the plane reached its destination. You felt greatly relieved that the flight, which had caused you so much distress, had come to an end as it had left her physically and mentally exhausted.

As soon as your feet touched Hungarian soil, Sebastian made sure that you felt as comfortable as possible before heading to the hotel. Despite the rush Britta, Sebastian's PR, took a moment in some small seats to rest and, as much as possible, recover from the turbulent journey they had just endured.

Although he knew he might hurt your feelings, Sebastian decided to broach the subject with a mischievous smile:

"Love, don't you think we've had enough intense Sunday nights celebrating my victories? Because I think it's led to something good."

At first, you were a bit confused, but a few seconds later you let out a shy and sweet laugh. The driver wasn't lying: sex had become your ritual to bid farewell to the weekend and, above all, as a celebration of Seb's victories that season. Now that you remembered, there were quite a few occasions where you didn’t use protection, so you thought that the possibility was even more up in the air now.

"It could be, Seb," you said with a knowing smile. "If I am, we could have a pretty big problem..."

"Please, love, don't say that," Vettel drew closer to you, taking your hand and gently tracing small circles on it with his fingers. "If you're pregnant, I'm sure you'll be an amazing mother. Besides, I know we haven't talked about this, but I've always wanted to be a father and I can't imagine anyone better than you to fulfill this dream."

Tears began to form in your eyes, and you hurried to wipe them away to prevent your boyfriend from noticing.

"So, what do you say? Should we tell Britta that we need to go to the pharmacy and buy a test? That way we can find out, and if it's a no, we can keep trying," you clarified eagerly. "What do you think about tonight?"

Feeling excited, after you explained the situation to the woman who had become another member of the family, and who, obviously, had been thrilled at the possible news, headed to the nearest pharmacy to avoid arousing suspicions among the journalists and paparazzi, who were lurking around with the intention of getting the latest scoop on the man of the moment.

Alone together and holding the small bag containing the test, you began to feel nervous as they approached their room. Upon entering the suite, you both sat on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to calm themselves before checking whether you would become parents.

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath, "I'm ready."

After that, you opened the box containing the test and went to the bathroom, where you followed the instructions carefully. Once finished, you placed it on the surface of the sink and returned to where Seb was, waiting for the indicated time to pass to see the result.

You approached your boyfriend, who gently stroked your back once again to comfort you. He knew you were nervous and scared. He felt the same way.

"Whatever the result is, I'm grateful to have a woman like you in my life. I'll be by your side no matter what, ok?" Sebastian reassured you.

Tears filled the your eyes again, and as you looked at your watch and saw that the waiting time was over, you ran as fast as you could to the bathroom, followed by an anxious Sebastian.

Quickly, you took the test in your hands and saw the result:

"It's positive!" you shouted, your voice trembling. "I'm pregnant, Sebastian!"

A wave of emotions engulfed you both, not knowing what to do except to embrace tightly as you felt a mixture of astonishment and joy, as well as uncertainties about what could happen from that moment on.

"Well, it turns out that in the end I'm not just good at pointing with my index finger when I win," Sebastian teased you mischievously.

"I find it surreal that you're making dirty jokes after finding out we're going to have a child."

"I guess," the driver continued playfully, "we'll have to tell this little one that his dad is a two-time, for now, Formula 1 world champion, and that his mother is a champion in other aspects."

You laughed at your boyfriend's quips, finding them unbelievable.

"Come on, Seb, don't act modest now saying you didn't have merit. You know perfectly well that I motivated you quite a bit during those baby-making sessions."

"Of course, I'm not saying otherwise," the German continued jokingly. "I'm sure the baby will become the royalty of Formula 1. Who wouldn't want to have Vettel and Schumacher genes?"

Both of you burst into laughter, filling the room, giving way your thoughts on how you would tell your families, the media, your respective coworkers... Especially, you spent a few minutes sharing your expectations about what your life would be like from that day on.

"Miss Schumacher and future Mrs. Vettel, let me tell you that now that we know we're expecting a little miracle, I propose we celebrate it in a more... intimate way."

"You can't even give me a day's break, can you? I don't know about you, but I'm convinced my father wouldn't find it amusing to hear his daughter screaming to ask her boyfriend for more," you said, knowing your father would be in the adjacent rooms.

"I know," Seb simply said, "but I’ve won in life, and I don't apologize for winning."

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER TWO series masterlist

SUMMARY II WC: 2.1k

After the tense encounter with Theo, you’re unsettled and distracted.

WARNINGS

angst, migraines, anxiety, feelings of emptiness

AUTHORS NOTE

this is more of a filler chapter. this took many rewrites and i’m hoping this is good enough! (although this plays into deathly hollows it will not follow it. mostly used it for the room of requirement scene). thank you for all the love on the first chapter!

Thank you thank you @amiableness for reading this and listening to me stress over it all! i love you! 🤎

You sat at the Gryffindor table, staring blankly at your plate. The usual warmth of the Great Hall—its lively morning chatter and clinking dishes—felt distant, like a scene observed through a glass wall. Harry and Hermione were talking softly beside you, but their words barely registered. Your mind kept circling back to the hallway, replaying the way Theo had looked at you.

The cruel words you’d hurled at him still echoed in your mind. Theo’s eyes, filled with anger and hurt, kept flashing in your memory. You couldn’t shake the image, nor could you understand why it affected you so deeply. It was just Theodore Nott-a Slytherin you barely knew. So why did the thought of him in pain twist your insides with guilt?

“Harry, why was Nott so mad at you?” Your voice cut through their conversation, drawing startled looks from both Harry and Hermione. They exchanged a brief, tense glance.

Before Harry could respond, Ron interjected. “Doesn’t take much to set that lot off. Probably thought he looked at him funny.”

While Ron’s words had a grain of truth, they didn’t fully explain Theo’s reaction. Although Theo wasn’t innocent, you’d noticed he rarely got into fights unless provoked—though no one deserved to be hit regardless of their reasoning. Yet, with Harry involved, and given the Slytherins’ usual treatment of him, it was hard to dismiss Ron’s comment. Theo often stayed in the background, smirking as others were bullied, but he rarely got his hands dirty.

The way Theo treated the other years was something you despised, and you always stood up for the victims of Slytherin cruelty. The frustration bubbling inside you mixed with an unsettling feeling you couldn’t quite place. So you simply hummed in agreement.

Your head throbbed, a constant reminder of the earlier events of the past 24 hours. As you pushed your food around your plate, you kept glancing at the doors to the Great Hall, expecting someone or something to happen. Hermione must have noticed because she nudged you, pulling you back into the conversation.

But you didn’t catch Harry and Hermione’s silent exchange, too lost in your own thoughts. Everything felt off today, your emotions were raw, on edge. Whenever you tried to pinpoint the source of your unease, it slipped away, leaving you more confused.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing had happened to make you feel this way—at least, nothing you could recall. You’d woken up in the hospital wing with a headache and a vague sense of confusion, Theo strangely sitting nearby. But Madam Pomfrey had assured you it was nothing serious—a bump on the head, perhaps a little too much stress. As she gave you a sleeping draught to take later.

So why did it feel like something was missing? Like a piece of your heart had been taken, leaving behind a hollow space?

Harry was speaking again, his voice soft with concern, but you barely heard him. You nodded automatically, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You just needed some fresh air, some time to clear your head. Maybe then the tightness in your chest would ease, and the world would stop closing in on you.

You excused yourself from the table, ignoring the worried glances from your friends as you slipped out of the Great Hall. The cool air in the corridor was a relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

But even as you walked aimlessly through the castle, the unease persisted. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, a sense of dread that clung to you.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of a window, closing your eyes. You just needed to rest, to give your mind a break. Maybe you’d take that draught soon.

As you walked into class, a wave of whispers followed you, accompanied by fleeting glances. Normally, you were used to blending in—not exactly shy, but not someone who sought the spotlight either. Today, though, it felt like everyone had something to say about you, twisting your stomach with discomfort.

You kept your head down, heading for a seat in the back, hoping to escape the attention. You set your bag on the table, pulling out your parchment and quill with slightly trembling hands. The pounding in your head was getting worse, each throb making you consider skipping the rest of your classes.

You rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the ache, so focused on your discomfort that you didn’t notice Theo slipping into the seat beside you.

When you finally looked up, your body tensed. Theo’s jaw was tight, his expression hard. You knew why—your argument had been harsh, and the guilt that had been gnawing at you all morning flared up again.

You were surprised he sat beside you, thinking he wouldn’t want anything to do with you now, especially after this morning’s exchange. Let alone being this close to anyone outside of Slytherin. But you knew you had to apologize for saying those awful words in the heat of the moment. Just as you lifted your arm to nudge him, Lavender turned in her seat, her eyes landing on you with concern.

“Hey Trouble, how are you feeling?” she asked softly, nervously glancing at Theo. “I heard you were in an accident. I was worried, but was told no visitors.”

You blinked, confusion flickering in your mind before you forced a response. “I’m… okay, I think. It must’ve been a pretty bad fall since I’ve had this migraine all day,” you tried to joke, but the weak attempt didn’t erase the worry in her eyes.

Before Lavender could say more, Theo cleared his throat, shooting her a look that made her quickly turn back to the front just as the professor began the lesson.

You struggled to focus on the lecture, as the pounding in your head intensified. You sighed in frustration, squeezing your eyes shut to block out the lights and noise. The migraine was worse than any you’d had before, leaving you anxious, wondering if there was more to your accident than you remembered.

Just as you were about to spiral into worry, you felt a subtle pressure at your side. Theo had leaned closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for some ink.

Normally, you would’ve tensed at the invasion of your personal space, but instead, the warmth of his presence was oddly grounding. The anxiety and pain that had been building all day eased just a fraction, allowing you to take a breath that didn’t feel so tight in your chest.

Whether intentional or not, Theo stayed close, his side pressed against yours, a silent connection that gave you a fleeting sense of calm.

As the lesson dragged on, the professor’s words blurred together, becoming an indistinct hum in the background of your thoughts. Despite Theo’s comforting presence, the tension in your body refused to fully release. You could feel his gaze on you from time to time, a mix of concern and something you couldn’t quite identify.

When the class finally ended, students began gathering their things, eager to leave. You remained seated, reluctant to move, still grappling with the persistent ache in your head and the knot of emotions in your chest. Theo didn’t make a move to leave either. Instead, he waited, his presence steady beside you.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and concerned. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated, wondering why you felt so vulnerable around Theodore of all people. “I don’t know,” you replied quietly, your voice tinged with exhaustion. “I feel like something is wrong, but I can’t quite pinpoint it.”

Theo’s eyes softened, and he slowly turned to face you fully in his chair. His hand hesitantly moved to rest on top of yours, his touch soft and anchoring. It made you feel worse, knowing you’d said such harsh things to him, and yet here he was, comforting you—someone you never expected to show this kind of care, let alone toward you.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what had been weighing on you all day. “Theodore, I’m sorry,” you began, your voice soft but sincere. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was scared and angry, but that doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair, and you didn’t deserve it.”

You could see him visibly deflate, as if your apology wasn’t what he was hoping for. But he quickly masked his emotions, sitting straighter with a blank expression.

“It’s fine,” he said your name, like it pained him to say it. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

His dejected tone caused an ache in your chest. You’d never had a one-on-one conversation with Nott until today, and it felt off.

You wanted to say something to comfort him in return, but a sharp pain in your right temple made you recoil, and Theo quickly caught you before you could fall from your chair. His touch sent another wave of warmth through you.

“Woah easier there, what’s happening?” Theo’s words cut through as you blinked, trying to focus.

“I’m fine. I think I just need some rest. I’ll see you around, Theodore. Thank you,” you murmured, gathering your things and half haphazardly shoving them into your bag. You walked out of the class, feeling his gaze on you the entire time.

The further you got to your dorm, the more uneasy you felt, your mind racing trying to grasp at something.

When you finally reached your room, you immediately collapsed onto your bed, your bag dropping with a thud as a vial rolled out.

You’d completely forgotten Madam Pomfrey had given you a sleeping draught and took it without hesitation and settled into bed, too tired to notice the faint vanilla and cigarette scent lingering.

The sleeping draught did its job, but only for a few hours. You woke up feeling empty, at least your headache had subsided. The dreams that had visited you were oddly vivid—filled with a gentle comfort and a loving presence—but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t place where they came from.

In your dream, a faceless figure held you close, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, placing delicate kisses on your shoulder. The love you felt in the dream was almost overwhelming, as if it was something you’d known for years. But every time you tried to focus on the details, a sharp jolt in the back of your head pulled you away, leaving you more confused.

You tried to fall back asleep after noticing it was well past midnight, meaning you’d missed the rest of your classes and dinner. Feeling restless, and knowing your dormmates slept like the dead—or with silencing charms—you decided to tidy up your side of the room. It was messier than you remembered.

As you gathered your clothes into a neat pile, you spotted some jumpers and hoodies you didn’t recognize. Frowning, you folded them and placed them next to your trunk, deciding to ask about them later. Then you noticed a green tie peeking out from under your bed. You sighed, assuming it was one of Grace’s latest conquests leaving their things behind, and tossed it onto her side of the room.

Once everything was in order, you turned your attention to the blank picture frames scattered across your desk. Which was odd not recalling when you bought so many. You’d just have to take some photos to fill those soon.

As you undressed for a shower, your fingers brushed against a cool metal object resting against your chest. You hadn’t noticed it before, and a sense of unease settled over you. Gently lifting it into view, you realized it was a locket—intricately detailed, with your favorite flowers etched in gold on the surface and your initials engraved on the back.

You tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Maybe it was just designed that way, you thought, but the fact that you couldn’t recall ever owning it puzzled you. Curiosity piqued, you took it off, intending to examine it later. But as soon as the chain slipped from your neck, a sudden wave of emptiness washed over you, leaving you breathless.

Without thinking, you clasped it back on, and the feeling slowly faded. You decided to leave it there, too tired to worry about it out now. You’d ask your friends about it in the morning.

After a long, hot shower, you finally climbed into bed, wishing for more dreams of the faceless figure who had brought you such a profound sense of comfort and safety.

If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write.

dividers from @saradika-graphics

[madhatterbri]

You | D.P.

Summary: hello ^^ is it okay if i request Damian Priest x Fem!Reader where she feels secretly jealous of the constant attention Damian gets from women ever since he became World Heavyweight Champion and they just keep flirting with him. So the reader kind of like distancing herself, and it makes Damian wonder why. When another new week of Monday Night Raw came and Damian finally caught the reader before the show starts and brought her to the locker room backstage. Reader explains the reason why and then Damian just goes on to prove how much he loves only her and then they make love in the locker room :3 i'd like it to be a fluffy smut, please if its ok hehe. Smut. 18+.

Other Damian Priest fics can be found here.

Requested by anon

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @brideofinfamy @mrsarcherofinfamy @theworldofotps

Y/N wasn't a jealous girlfriend. At least she didn't think so until he won his championship. She was so excited for him. All his hard work finally paid off. Damian was finally getting the recognition he deserved. Nothing could rain on their parade until it the other women decided they wanted to entertain him.

He was friendly to them. It was part of his job to not be a jerk to the fans. Yet they started bothering them even when it wasn't when they were at the arenas. Even date nights, the fans would talk to him. He kept the conversations brief at first. Then he started having full conversations with them. She would just keep walking to not just stand around. As time wore on, Y/N felt ignored.

Y/N started to build a wall between them. She would talk to Damian, but her mind was elsewhere. The sting of being inadvertently hurt by him sucked. He brought it up a couple of times, but she blew it off. It wasn't until he hadn't seen her at all before an episode of Monday Night RAW that he had to talk to her.

"There you are," Damian smiled upon seeing her. The show had a few hours before they aired.

"Here I am," she chuckled. Damian grabbed his fingers and linked them together.

"Let's have a chat. I feel like I haven't seen you all day," he urged. Before she could turn him down for a talk, he led her inside a locker room. It was away from everyone else to give them privacy. He locked the door behind him. "Talk to me. You have been distancing yourself and suddenly I have to look for you,"

"I'm just feeling a little jealous, I guess," Y/N sighed and sat on the bench. Damian took a step back. He didn't know where this was coming from.

"Why, mi amor? What happened?" He asked and took a seat next to her. He rubbed her back softly. She rolled her head around and took a deep breath.

"All the women that throw themselves at you now. They are so pretty, and I just miss when it was the two of us, D. Now I feel like I have to compete for your attention," she sighed and nibbled her bottom lip nervously.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "There is no other woman, Y/N. You were here from the beginning to the end. Trust me when I lose that title they will be gone. But you know who is still going to be here? Y/N,"

Tears welled in her eyes. She cleared her throat and blinked them away. All the doubts and questions seemed so silly now. Damian loved her and only her. She leaned in and kissed him.

"I want to be here, Damian, always," she promised. He pulled her closer to him. Their sweet kisses turned into something more. She straddled his lap. Their make-out session started to heat up. Damian shifted, so she lay on the bench.

He complimented her as he placed kisses against her face and neck. She sighed happily once she felt him reaching for her underwear underneath her skirt. He threw her underwear behind him and teased her clit. Y/N gasped and moaned in his mouth.

"Don't worry, I got you," he assured her. He ran his fingers between her folds before sliding them inside her entrance. "The only woman that can make me feel like this. I want to spend my life with you,"

Y/N moaned in agreement. She didn't remember life before him. When they met, they instantly connected. Nights on the road were spent together. Times when they were away were filled with phone calls and text messages.

He curled his fingers inside of her. She gasped and balled her fists to keep quiet. The roster would have a field day in knowing they got caught having sex. He smirked and slid his fingers out of her. The archer of infamy slid his pants and underwear down. He positioned himself at her entrance.

"Now you shy?" He teased and slid inside of her. She bit her lip and whined. Damian grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He was gentle, wanting to prove to this woman that she was his everything.

More compliments were lavished on her. All her doubts were now gone. He picked up his pace once they were getting closer.

"Come on, sweetheart. I'm here. I got you," he promised. With one more thrust, their bodies were joined in utter bliss. He waited until he was ready to pull out.

"That was perfect," she blushed.

"You are perfect,"

[yrluvjane]

Hey! i have never requested a fic before so forgive me cause i have no idea how to do it. How about a james potter x reader fic where james ignores reader for lily, getting them hurt in the process?

It's great and I'm honored to be your first :) Feel free to send as many as you like! Sorry, if I'm a bit late with it. I tend to rewrite at last minute a lot. I hope you like it!

James' love was a force of nature, not an ordinary love, but something that threatened to consume you entirely.

You couldn't ignore it, and it left you feeling both intoxicated and overwhelmed. It was like being at the beach, feeling the sun's heat kiss your skin and the sound of the waves crashing in the distance, and it was also like jumping into the pool and feeling the cold spring of the water shock you to your core. James' love was like that, it was intense, it was overwhelming, it was all-consuming. It was a love that burned like a wildfire, crashing down on you with the force of oceanic waves and you couldn't help but be drawn into its embrace.

And somehow you still felt like second fiddle to Lily Evans. From the moment they met in their first year, he's been completely obsessed with her - spending every second of free time with her, using every chance to grab her attention.

Back then, you've always tried to ignore his constant chatter about her, but today, it proved too much. Nothing drastic had happened today but you did get a rather shocking acceptable on a Potions test you'd worked really hard on and were sure you'd have aced. That had got to you a little and you were craving a little reassurance.

After a good while of moping around in bed waiting for James to come back from practice you decided to head for lunch and meet him there. When you spot James in the common room with Lily, leaning in to whisper something in her ear as she laughs at his latest joke, that's when it really hits you. That loneliness. Maybe your over-reacting, but that doesn't stop you from feeling a pit forming in your stomach. You've never felt so invisible and forgotten before, and it hurts more than you ever thought it could. 

You take a deep breath and force a smile onto your face as you walk past them, trying not to let your emotions show, but it's hard. When you reach your table, you find yourself struggling to eat, the food tasting like ashes in your mouth. And your mind takes up the role as your greatest enemy, coming up with a whole lot of reasons of why James could prefer Lily over you.

You're not entirely sure why you're even there, since James is too preoccupied with Lily to even notice your absence. And whenever you manage to distract yourself, someone is tapping on your shoulder asking you were James is and you have to smile and say he's with Lily.

After what feels like an eternity, and overhearing a rather hurtful comment made at you, the lunch period finally comes to an end. You make your way back to your dormitory, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill down your face. As you flop onto your bed, you can feel the lump rising in your throat as you think about your day.

You let out a shaky sigh as the tears finally spill over, spilling down your face and onto your pillow. You don't know why your crying, Lily is your friend and James has the right to sit and talk with whomever he wishes. You're being stupid you believe and it still not enough to make you get yourself together.

As you lie there on your bed, crying uncontrollably, you hear a soft knock on your door. You sit up, still sniffling, and wipe away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens, and James steps inside, his face immediately wrought with concern. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"It's nothing, 'm being stupid." You say. You'd never actually tell James why. I don't get why James picked her, Lily was great for him! You repeat the comment in your mind.

He's not convinced, he looks more disappointed and it hurts. He pulls you into a hug, holding you close as you let the tears flow freely. "I'm here for you, I promise," he whispers in your ear, the warmth of his breath making you feel safe and loved.

He continues to hold you, you feel the tension of the past few hours begin to melt away, replaced by the comfort and warmth of James' embrace. As James continues to hold you, you take a deep breath and finally work up the nerve to tell him how you truly feel. "It's stupid, I know," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "But I can't help feeling like I'm never going to be enough for you, that I'll always compare myself to Lily and fear someday you'll pick her over me."

James shakes his head, his hands running through your hair as he looks deeply into your eyes. "It's not stupid, and you are enough for me," he says, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

He pulls your face closer to his, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that makes your heart flutter. As he pulls back, his eyes meet yours once more. "You're the only one I want to be with," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the only one I love, and my love for you could never compare with Lily. Hell, most of time we spend together all I can ever talk about is you."

His words are like music to your ears. You kiss him again, this time with all the passion and love that's been building up inside of you. "I'm sorry." You say sheepingly. "Oh hush, trust me Sirius is a lot more violent when it comes to seeking attention. I mean it, he bit me, once!" You both laugh and all your worries and fears melt away as you realize that, in this moment, you have everything you could ever want or need.

[moonsandmobilityaids]

To Walk In Part 2

Pairings: Remus Lupin x disabled!reader (Part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: You and Remus talk about the night before. Warnings: Mentions of catheters, self-worth issues Series Masterlist | Part 1

Your eyes flutter open to a new day, the weight of last night's revelation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. It's difficult to think of anything else but the dread that sits heavy in your stomach, churning with every thought of what Remus might be thinking now.

You remain still in bed, the soft pillow beneath your head offering little comfort for the turmoil within. Remus is there, propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands. The morning light filters through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon him and accentuating the worry lines etched around his eyes. His presence should soothe you, yet it only serves to remind you of your vulnerability.

The memory of the catheter from last night is still fresh, too fresh, and you can't help but shift under the sheets, causing Remus to look up.

"Love, you're awake," he says softly, closing his book and setting it aside. His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of your situation, and for a moment, you want nothing more than to lose yourself in its warmth. But your anxiety refuses to be quelled, and you attempt a small smile, though it wavers at the edges.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, a noncommittal sound that does little to mask your unease. You draw the blanket up higher, a thin shield from the weight of his scrutiny. It's not that you don't trust him—it's just that right now, you can't trust yourself.

He doesn't miss the small gesture, the way you retreat further into the cocoon of fabric. His brow furrows slightly, concern etching lines onto his usually smooth forehead. He has always been perceptive, able to read between the lines of your carefully composed facade. It's one of the reasons you've always felt safe with him, why his presence has been a constant source of reassurance. But today, even his steadying influence can't quell the storm raging inside you.

"Would you like to speak about what happened last night?" His voice is so soft, a low murmur that barely disturbs the silence of the room. He's cautious, careful not to push too hard, but the question hangs heavy in the air between you, reminding you of the reality you're trying to keep at bay.

Your heart stutters in your chest, skipping a beat, and for a moment, you can't breathe. You don't want to talk about it—not because you don't trust him, but because speaking it aloud feels like an admission. An admission that things are different now, that *you* are different. And you're terrified of what will happen if you give voice to the fear that's been gnawing at your insides.

"I..." Your voice is barely audible, a whisper lost among the rustling sheets. "I don’t want you to see me...differently." The confession hangs heavy in the air, a secret shared in the quiet of the dawning day.

His frown deepens, his gaze never leaving yours as he leans closer. There’s a tension in the way he moves, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, the sound aching with the weight of unspoken fears and frustration. "It's just... everything." Your hands move in vague gestures, encompassing the catheter, the wheelchair, everything. "I don't want you to think I'm not—" The words are there on the tip of your tongue, but they're too raw, too real to release into the world.

"That I'm not... attractive anymore," you finally whisper.

Saying it aloud feels like admitting defeat, and you instantly regret it. You turn your head away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, suddenly aware of how absurd your concerns must seem when stacked against the reality of your condition. How can you think about attraction when your body is a battlefield, when even the simplest tasks leave you breathless and weak?

Remus blinks, his brow furrowing as he tries to decipher the tangle of emotions behind your words. He doesn't laugh or dismiss your fears as trivial; instead, his hand reaches out, fingertips brushing gently against your cheek. It's a silent plea for you to look at him, to let him see you.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, and it's such a familiar term, one James often uses. But when Remus says it, it's different—softer, more personal, imbued with an intimacy born of shared secrets and quiet understanding. "You're not—You're still you. You're the woman I'm mad about, and nothing can change that."

His words weave a thread of comfort through the fabric of your thoughts, but it frays against the rough edges of self-doubt. "But last night... you saw me... struggling to use a catheter and then helped. That's not something I ever wanted you to see."

His hand leaves your cheek, warm fingers curling around your own, grounding you in their steadiness. "What I saw last night," he begins, voice firm yet gentle, like the caress of a summer breeze, "was strength. More strength than you realise you possess. And not a single moment of it—not one—made me think any less of you."

His words strike at the heart of your insecurities, each syllable a challenge to the doubts you've nursed in silence. You search his face for any sign of pity, but there is none—only the steady glow of sincerity.

"This isn't about pretending to be perfect," he continues, voice firm with conviction. "You're perfect for me, for us. Last night... it didn't change the way I feel about you. If anything, it made me love you more because I wish you'd let me in sooner. You don't have to bear this burden alone."

Your throat tightens, making speech impossible. His gaze holds yours, unwavering and sure. He means it—all of it. There's no hesitation, no shadow of doubt lurking behind his words.

"But... what if it becomes too much?" Your voice barely rises above a whisper, fear creeping into the spaces between your words. "What if one day, you decide it's too much to handle?"

Remus's hold on your hand tightens, his thumb tracing reassuring circles over your knuckles. A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth, not out of amusement, but a quiet sort of confidence. "I'm not going anywhere, love. I'm in this with you, for better or worse. We've already faced so much together. I'm not afraid of this—and neither should you be."

His words crack the shell you've formed, seeping into spaces within your heart that you'd forgotten existed. You feel a slow and steady release of tension from your shoulders, the burden of the previous night lifting ever so slightly at his touch. He speaks no more, simply holding you with a gentleness that only Remus Lupin seems to possess.

"I... I don't want you to think I'm weak," you confess, your voice no louder than the rustle of sheets beneath you.

"You're the farthest thing from weak," he assures you, the certainty in his tone wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "You've faced things others can't even imagine, and you're still here, still fighting. That's not weakness. It's strength."

Something shifts within you, something small but significant. His words echo in the hollows of your mind, filling them with a truth you've long denied yourself. Perhaps he's right—perhaps you are stronger than you've allowed yourself to believe.

"And remember," Remus adds, his voice low and soothing as a lullaby, "if you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be there. James and Sirius too."

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. Then, slowly, you find your voice again. "They don't know... about the catheter. Not yet."

Remus's eyes soften in understanding. "That's your decision to make, love. When you're ready to tell them, they'll understand. They care for you as deeply as I do."

His voice is a balm to your ragged nerves, making the promise ring true in spite of everything. The fear isn't completely gone, but it's quieter now, overshadowed by Remus's unwavering presence.

You look up at him and finally allow the ghost of a smile to touch your lips—a small victory, but a significant one. "Thank you," you whisper, the gratitude heavy in your voice.

Remus's own smile is gentle, the lines around his eyes crinkling in response. He leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "Anytime, love. Always."

[comet-forgot-you]

What about River comforting R? Like R’s super ‘tough and reserved’ and all ‘idgaf’, but just breaks when River’s around.

me fr

breathe

river x reader

summary: river comforts you after a very unexpected anxiety attack.

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack i think thats all

a/n: this is my first time writing something that isnt smut. kinda nervous lol. i had to look up hurt/comfort prompts before settling on this one. do not repost for any reason.

the room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, a pool of worry gathering in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around the booth, hyperaware of every single surrounding. the sound of the person breathing next to you, the sound of the fan rattling in the corner, the words of river’s friends talking getting jumbled together. it was like every sound was heightened.

it was sudden, you didnt know where the sudden wave of pure anxiety had come from. had something happened to someone? your body goes rigid, you glance around the booth again, hoping no one had noticed the slight shift in your demeanor. your eyes find river’s her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you with worried eyes. you tear your gaze from hers, the feeling of tears prickling in your eyes, threatening to escape was not something you were interested in at the moment. you didn’t want to cry surrounded by people you barely knew. your breath caught in your throat, hands shaking in your lap.

you wanted, needed to leave. you couldn’t stand being in the crowded booth any longer, couldnt stand that constant chatter and scraping of metal forks against plates. it was all too much, the people, the noise, too much. you elbow the guy sitting beside you, the one that had you squashed between him and the girl beside you. your breath came out in a heavy exhale.

“what the fuck?” he winces, cradling his ribs in his hand.

“move, i need to get out.” your voice sounds normal to everyone else, but you could hear the shakiness of it, and you knew river could hear it, too. he stares at you like you’re crazy, but your lungs itch to fill with air that the crowded booth doesn’t seem to be providing. “fucking move!” you don’t mean to yell, every eye in the restaurant landing on you. you could feel it, but you feel like the room is closing in on you, it felt loke the weight of the world was loading itself onto you shoulders. he quickly moves out of the booth and scurry up after, eyes darting to river before fumbling for your wallet stuffed in your pocket.

“are you okay?” it’s the girl sitting next to river that asks. you glance up at her, you fear that if you say something, you’ll break down. but you try anyways.

“yeah, i just..” you’re fumbling over your words. “i forgot about this meeting.” you throw enough cash on the table to handle the two of yours’ meal and rush out of the packed restaurant.

the cool winter air fills your lungs, but it still doesn’t feel like its enough. your hands shake at your sides and you curl them in a ball. your eyes dart around the street before taking off for the parking garage you had parked almost an hour ago in. you make it into the dark, concrete structure when a hand tugs your own.

“hey, what’s wrong?” river. she sounds almost breathless, almost as if she bad been running after you. you turn to face her and you can’t hold the tears back anymore, they fall freely from your eyes. you’re hyperventilating, gripping the hand that holds your own.

“i- i don’t know,” your breathing is ragged, “i couldn’t help it, i’m sorry,” you barely process the words tumbling messily out of your lips. river pulls you into her arms, your head resting in the crook of her neck.

“hey, its okay. you’re okay, i have you.” her hands soothe your hair, an action she knew brought you some sense of comfort. your hands wrap around her waist, hold onto them in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. “breathe, baby. i know its hard right now, but you need to.” she takes a deep breath in, and you follow her lead, allowing your breathing to regulate. “lets go to the car, yeah? you think you can walk to the car?” you nod against her neck, pulling back. she takes your hand into hers, squeezing it.

the two of you climb into the back seat of the car, your tears having come down with the walk. your hands still shook in river’s hold, she presses kisses to your face, wiping away at the tears that flowed down your face. “m’ sorry, riv. i don’t know why i broke down like that,” you felt so guilty ripping her from her time with her friends. it was a lunch she had been talking about for weeks, talking about how excited for it she was, how much she missed her friends and couldn’t wait to introduce you to them, the thought of letting her down caused a stream of tears to slide down your face. “m’ sorry, river,” the pace of your breathing picks up, borderline hyperventilating. “i didn’t mean to mess it up,” your voice is hoarse.

river cradles your face in her hand. “you didn’t do anything wrong. its okay, i understand, and i’ll make sure they understand. what matters is that you’re okay. you couldn’t help it, and that’s okay. i want you to be okay, we can always reschedule.” her words are soft, they lift the weight that previously sat on your shoulders right off. you wrap your arms around her shoulders, hugging her closer to you.

a/n: im sorry if this is terrible and absolutely not what was wanted, i rarely ever read hurt/comfort and i have the memory of a child at a family gathering that completely forgets you after like 3 days even though they said you were best friends.

[alaydabug2]

I feel like being angsty

This is while Keefe is in the Forbidden Cities

Enjoy ☺️

It was getting late in the chilly evening. The sun was slowly dipping over the horizon. If Keefe wasn't about to do what he was thinking of, he would've reveled in its beauty.

He took a deep breath and swung one leg over the railing. Then the other. He balanced on the small ledge.

He had to do this. There was no debating it. It wasn't safe -for him or others- to be around anymore. The longer he was breathing, the longer his mom was able to manipulate him and use him for awful, horrendous things.

Keefe already knew he was never going back to the Lost Cities. He would never see his friends again. It didn't matter if he did this or not. He. Wouldn't. Go. Back.

Tears pricked his eyes as he stared down at the water below. It was a long fall. His heart picked up pace

He'd heard before that falling on water was the equivalent of falling on concrete. He just hoped that it would take him out quickly, and he wouldn't have to suffer through too much of the pain.

But...it'd be worth it. That short amount of time, to never have to feel it again. It strengthened his resolve.

Everything hurt enough as it was. The human emotions cut straight to his gut. The choked back words burned his throat. His head pounded from the constant stress it all caused. His skin ached from his emotions slowly going numb, leaving behind almost a hum from its lack of presence. His heart squeezed against his ribs from knowing how many times he'd hurt his friends before.

He was making sure it never happened again.

Keefe Sencen had officially hit rock bottom. And no matter how hard and long he tried, he didn't have the strength or energy to climb back up. It was too steep.

He'd been fighting for so long. His entire life. At least soon, he would be able to rest.

A few more deep breaths to calm his nerves. Just when he planted his feet for the jump, a panicked voice spoke out behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Keefe turned his head to be face to face with a woman who was likely to be in her late twenties. His eyes widened.

Her face was pale and terror filled her eyes. The man beside her, who Keefe assumed was her husband, had a similar appearance.

"Oh, ummm." How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? He could always just jump off and not have to worry about it, but that would probably traumatize the poor couple. Plus...for some odd reason, he felt compelled to stay on the bridge for a little longer. "I'm just... looking out at the view. The water looks nice this evening. Doesn't it?"

The man nodded. "It does, but...that doesn't seem very safe."

Keefe shrugged. "It'll be fine." He threw in a nervous laugh. "I've always wanted to cross high diving off my bucket list anyhow." He was trying to be convincing, but he couldn't quite meet their eyes.

The woman didn't seem to be buying it. She whispered, "You don't have to do this, you know?" She placed a hand on one of his wrists. Probably to make sure he couldn't try to jump off as easily. "It's not going to be like this forever."

Keefe didn't know why he was saying this, but the next thing that came out of his mouth was, "It's been like this my entire life."

The woman's heartache sliced straight to his core with the contact. He could feel her husband’s in the background as well. It was making his head bleary.

"What's your name?" The man asked him.

"I'm Keefe," he murmured.

"Keefe," the man repeated. "I'm Maverick, that's my wife, Ruby." He seemed to hesitate a moment before asking, "How... How old are you?"

His voice was almost inaudible, "Sixteen."

Both of the couple's eyes teared up. Keefe didn't dare to face them. He squeezed his eyes shut. There was a slight pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He willed himself not to cry.

"Why would you want to do something like this? You have your entire life ahead of you. Why cut it so short?" Ruby whispered.

Keefe shook his head and laughed darkly. "You have zero idea on how messed up my life's been from the start. It's just not worth saving anymore, and I'd rather it be on my own terms than someone making the decision for me. You wouldn't understand. No one does."

"Well," Maverick said, "help us understand." When Keefe didn't say anything, he continued. "We don't have anywhere to be. We're able to listen."

Keefe couldn't help shedding a few tears as he explained, "My parents are pieces of absolute garbage. They don't care about me. My mom has made me do awful, awful things that I don't even remember doing. I've pushed my friends away so many times that they all probably hate me by now. I keep, quite litterly, running away from all of my problems. I keep putting my friends in danger. Everything just keeps spiraling into a dark pit of doom, and," his voice cracked, "I just can't deal with it anymore. It's too much for me to handle."

The hand from his shoulder moved to run up and down his back in slow, soothing  movements. Ruby spoke, "What has your mom made you do? And why would your friends be in danger?" When he didn't say, she added, "It might make you feel better to get it off your chest."

It was clear they weren't going to be leaving anytime soon, so he gave in. "My mom is part of..." He trailed off. How was he supposed to explain this without them thinking he was crazy. "My mom is apart of...a cult like gang. And she wants me to join, saying that the whole reason I was born is to take her place. And...one night she...gave me some sort of drug so I wouldn't remember what happened. And had me go out in the street to distract this man and his daughter. And..." he hung his head. "They got hit by a bus and died. I learned about this a couple of days ago, and it's been eating me up since. And with my friends, they keep getting hurt from my mom. And I'm not able to stop her. So I ran away and skipped town. I don't plan on ever going back. It's better for them this way. Better for me."

"I'm sure your friends are worried about you, though," Maverick murmured. You don't want them to try and find you, then have to figure out you jumped off a bridge."

Keefe shrugged. "This is the second time I've run away. I'm not counting on them waiting up for me. I've caused them so much trouble. They'll be glad to get rid of."

"What about your dad? I know your mom is bad, but what about him?"

He snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure he's up looking all over the planet for me as we speak. Worried sick. It's not like I'm his only child or anything." The raw truth of that stung. He blinked the tears away from his eyes. He wasn't going to break down in front of them. He just wasn't. He'd at least like to keep a little dignity he had left.

"What about your future?" Ruby's voice was soft. "Don't you want to find love? Get married. Have kids of your own."

The girl he'd been trying very hard not to think about since stepping onto the bridge flashed through his mind. Her blond hair and beautiful brown eyes hurt to think about.

"I've already found it." WHY was he admitting this? "But...she likes my best friend. I don't want to interfere with that. She deserves to be happy, and I'm no good for her. I've hurt her so many times. And as long as my mom is around, I'd never have kids. That's just another person I care about she can hurt. I don't want to become like her or my dad anyhow."

"You have a lot to deal with for a sixteen year old," she noted. "But... there are still reasons to keep going."

"Like what?"

Ruby shared a look with her husband, probably struggling with trying to figure out what to say. Finally, Maverick pointed to the sky. "That's a beautiful sunset, isn't it?" The sun was sinking below the water. It filled the sky with vibrant yellows and pinks and reds. Keefe nodded. "Would you be sad if you were never able to see it again?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Just... focus on going long enough each day to see the sun set. Then, the day is over. You can try again in the morning, clean slate."

Both Ruby and Maverick waited for him to process it. Finally, something inside him clicked, putting him back into a clearer head space as a gust of wind chilled his body.

"What am I doing?" Keefe muttered. He'd gotten so far. Survived for that long. He couldn't just give up.

He looked around frantically, trying to find a way back off the ledge. Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring his vision. His breath quickened.

"Easy," Ruby whispered. "We'll help you up."

Ruby pulled him up as Maverick made sure he didn't topple backward as he stepped over the rail. He collapsed in their arms, clinging as tight as he could. He shook from the adrenaline and the wind that he had just realized was biting at his skin. He couldn't hold back his tears anymore, and the floodgates broke free.

Neither of them seemed to mind. They held onto him just as tight. Their relief poured off of them in waves. He was pretty sure they were crying, too.

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. Another one rubbed his back. A third cupped the back of his neck, holding him close to a body. Whose, he wasn't sure. Was this how caring parents were supposed to feel?

After being able to collect himself, they rushed to get him away from the railing and off the bridge. Maverick took off his jacket and placed it over Keefe's shoulders. It blocked some of the bitter wind from reaching his body.

They brought him inside a small, warm café and sat him down at a table. Ruby placed a cup in front of him. Something she called 'hot cocoa'.

He took a sip. It was warm and had mini marshmallows floating in it. It reminded him almost of cinnamcreme, except instead of cinnamon, it was chocolate. It warmed him up from the inside out.

They continued to sit and talk with him until the cafe closed. Even when it did, the owners didn't try to kick them out. They must've known it was important.

He'd seen some awful things from humans, but...they weren't all bad. Humans were still people, too. They had feelings and compassion. And two of them had just saved his life

For some reason, the council couldn't see that. It wasn't even the humans' fault they were separated from the lost cities!

If, by some miracle, he made it back home, he'd have to find a way to explain that to the council

Until then, he took another sip of his hot chocolate and explained the best he could about his mom without giving away the elves. Oddly enough, talking about his problems did actually make him feel a tad better. He'd have to figure out a way to use that to his advantage.

[hmshermitcraft]

pearldaph anon here with somethint other than pearldaph for once 😝

weekly theme submission : magic

this is goldenmoon / jimpearltyn btw (jimmy x pearl x martyn ) 🕊️🌙🌲 ~ 💛💙💚

UMMM TW FOR PARANOIA, FEELING OF BEING WATCHED, AND VAGUELY GOREY THOUGHTS !! 🦎

so martyn's never been one to believe in magic. all those folklore tales, stories of wizards and fairies and mermaids and bla bla bla. he really didnt bother with it. he much rather worry about his next rent payment than some magical hobo cursing him and his generations.

that all changed one night.

see, he's not a very anxious person. not very paranoid. he's got a degree of somewhat (read:debatable) reasonable thinking that tends to cancel out any fear or anxiety that might spark. however, that reasonable thinking doesn't account for the constant feeling of being watched by something. what that something is constantly evades him, however. as soon as he makes any sign of noticing, a suspicious look on his face, a glance around, the feeling and all with it disappears.

it got to the point where that feeling was driving him insane. it felt like something crawling in his skin, making him wish he could just tear it all off. it simmered, pumped through his veins like blood. he could almost taste the dry bile he could feel rising whenever he went outside.

it didnt help that nearly no one believed him, excluding his sweetheart of a roommate jimmy. he was so concerned when he told him, paying extra attention to him martyn swore that sometimes he could see golden wings on jimmys back whenever he came home or felt uneasy.

everything changed, however, when he saw the wolf. on his front doorstep.

for some reason, despite every hair and inch of skin that screamed run run run he stayed there. stayed watching it. the wolf was eerily pale, its fur coat a unnatural-but-beautiful shade of marble white. it seemed to almost glow under the shine of the full moon wasnt the moon only in waxing gibbous yesterday, it drew him in. it felt almost familiar.

as he stepped closer, the wolf ran to the forest. now, a smart, rational person like martyn would normally absolutely not follow this random wolf into the forest. however, at the state he was in, all rationality was thrown away. so he followed the wolf, chasing it as fast as his wobbly legs could carry. as he ran, he could hear wolves howling in the distance, his blood pumping faster with every note they sung.

at some point, the wolf stopped. so did martyn. his vision was fading out. his breath was harsh, heaving, his body screaming with soreness and aches from extertion, and he was pretty certain he'd sprained a foot or too. falling to the ground, he looked up his chest heaving his vision spotty and-

...and...

...oh.

oh.

[ - even now, martyn would be hard struck trying to recall what he'd saw. the memories were blurry and the night air was cold and harsh, and he might've been just a bit parched and maybe had some adrenaline still in his system, but he knows for sure, surer than he'd even been, that that night was the night he fell in love. - ]

she must have been a angel. a god, even.

her appearance, unassuming, meager, maybe one would even say plain, looked just that of a regular human woman. he couldnt be fooled, though. not with those eyes. oh gods, her eyes.

they reminded him of the night sky. of the cosmos. so much bigger. so much... greater. so... much…

brighter?¿ ..?

he was pretty sure he almost passed out. twice maybe. pushing on three times. nonetheless, he snapped out of that daze relatively fast, ignoring his head pounding he greeted the woman half heartedly, pointedly avoiding her eyes. she was smiling. she seemed rather amused at the mess of a display (read:martyn) and how chaotic his entrance was. she greeted him back and oh. she was going to be the death of him.

the woman's name seemed indecipherable, with how it was pronounced. it seemed impossible to speak via human tongue (because let's be honest, do we REALLY believe this lady is human?) and she seemed terribly aware of that fact. instead, she left that up to martyn. the man in question, very determined to not die, and maybe make the pretty lady happy came up with 'pearl.’

"like your eyes!" he'd said. "they're- er, really bright. real shimmery? kinda glowy. like a pearl, you know?"

not the best name he could've chosen, but hey. the lady liked it, so ha! nailed the first impression.

hopefully jimmy wouldnt mind the new guest?

[ - he did in fact not mind. in fact, as soon as martyn turned up to their front door with the woman, jimmy wrenching it it open with enough force to make him jump, he'd interrogated martyn immediately on where he'd been all night. though as soon as he saw pearl, all his fight left, a spark of something he couldn't quite decipher lighting up his expression. pearl’s grin widened. martyn had no idea what was going on. jimmy glanced back between the two, seemingly debating something, before turning to pearl and saying "does this mean I don’t have to bind my wings anymore?" - ]

anon notes - this turned out WAY longer than i meant for it to. woops.

um anyway hope this feeds the starving pearltyn solidarpearl and solidarwood fans ehe. sorry the jimmy content was actually very minimal maybe i should’ve put his as implied instead. oops

signing off,

~ 🌙🌾 (i get an emoji now right? right?!?)

Pearl politely doesn't mention how Martyn passed out part way home and she had to carry him until he woke again. That'll make perfect blackmail in the future (as if his introduction wasn't enough.) Because she will be staying. They can't get rid of her now.

Martyn also passes out again before he's able to properly process Jimmy's comment. Jimmy's kind of relieved - he knows Martyn's been struggling lately. Pearl carries him to bed, and Jimmy brushes through his hair.

He already looks softer. Like a weight has been taken from his shoulders. Maybe Pearl is the charm they need to keep whatever's been watching Martyn away...

[silbeni]

Breathe, breathe, breathe

In which: Tomoko comforts young Ryoma after a nightmare

Characters: (DIU) Ryoma Román, Tomoko Higashikata.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort.

TW: Domestic Abuse. (No harm happens in-text, but it's not subtle.)

* includes mention if Tomoko having twins in reference to @/bioeiectricity’s oc! Go follow him!

Ryoma ran through a dilapidated house. Trash, both in and out of bags, were scattered throughout the ground. She was conscious not to step on it as the consequences weighed heavy in her mind. Dangerously close, a loud rush of footsteps echoed her own as a constant reminder to quicken her pace. 

There was no need for her to glance behind. She already knew her pursuer, just as she instinctively knew where to hide. Safety was close, just down the hall and to the second door to the right. 

They burst inside the familiar room, their room, slamming the door shut behind them. Their next steps were practiced, almost automatic. They grabbed a chair, and jammed it underneath the door knob. It wobbled worryingly, still attached but loose in its cavity.

There was no time to think, however. Soon, yelling and banging overshadowed the pounding of her racing heart. The door knob rattled so hard they thought it would pop off. Summoning her strength, Ryoma braced against the battered door, their body jolting with every impact it took. With no other course of action, they shut their eyes tight, sobbed and prayed for it to end.  

Ryoma abruptly sat up, sweaty and out of breath. The cold grip of fear had crossed over, along with the tears. It was less a dream, but a memory. It was all too real. 

 They stifled their sobs with their palm, so as not to wake the sleeping family. Even in their panicked state, they worried about inconveniencing others, though it was already too late for that. 

 “Ryo?” 

“...M-Ms Tomoko.”

They turned to see the woman emerging from a dark doorway. Moonlight highlighted her exhaustion laden features. The front pieces of her hair that were usually pulled back were now dangling in front of her face. They swayed gently as she moved closer.

Along with everything else, Ryoma felt an acute pang of guilt. She sniffled.

Tomoko sat beside Ryoma on the opposite end of the couch, leaving about a foot’s space between them. She reached over to place her hand over theirs. Despite having several other sleeping options, they had declined to sleep anywhere else. Now, she was starting to believe this was part of the reason why. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked, though she knew the answer.

They nodded, salty tears trickling down their cheeks at the mention. They swiped them away with the back of their free hand. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Ryoma shook their head.

Another door creaked, louder. This time, an alarmed Ryohei had stomped down from his room. At the top of the steps, his worries were assuaged when he saw the both of them sitting together. Tomoko peered up at him, and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She's got this. 

The older man's brief appearance had stirred up another wave of tears. Ryohei slept upstairs. They must've been loud, Ryoma thought, feeling even guiltier still. 

“Wait a sec, I'll get you some tissues, okay?” 

Tomoko rose and made her way to the bathroom. It was pretty close by, and she knew how to find her way in the dark. It's a skill she’d acquired after many late nursing shifts. She would oftentimes have to navigate the house at night, with no lights on to avoid waking the kids. She recalled fond memories of kissing her children goodnight before heading out. It was a rough patch, certainly, but it wasn't all bad. A soft sob from the living room put a stop to her reminiscing. 

She quickly fetched a box of tissues from the bathroom cabinet and she was back. At 16 years of age, Ryoma was already much taller than Tomoko, yet…  there, on the couch, they had never looked smaller. She retook her seat next to them, placing the tissues in the space between them.

“Here you go.” 

Ryoma dried her tears and emitted a sad, little sound that was probably a thank you. 

“Can I get you anything else? Water?"

Ryoma said nothing for a bit. They stared down at their hands, wringing them. 

“C-can..I…have a hug?” They hiccuped.

Hearing those words, her heart squeezed painfully, tears welling up in her own eyes. “Yes, of course. Come here.” 

They embraced, and Ryoma released all that they were holding back. Tomoko rode it out, rocked her gently, interspersing warm assurances here and there. Back and forth, back and forth. At first, they clung to her tightly, as if Tomoko would vanish at any moment, leaving them desolate on the couch. But as time passed, her hold slackened with it.

Their sobs eased, and they were left sniffling, worn out. They were still with the exception of the occasional hiccup. Tomoko combed her fingers through their long hair. It was a surefire way to get Ryoma to fall asleep. When she brushed their hair, they always did, really no matter how short the session was…but Tomoko was willing to accept that outcome. Even if it meant being stuck in an uncomfortable position until Ryoma woke up. And she'd do it again.

None of them spoke for a long while, but they didn't need to. At that moment, resting her chin on Tomoko’s shoulder, there was no question they were loved. 

Then, Ryoma spoke. It was very quiet, and marred by sleep, but due to their proximity she was able to hear it. Tomoko swore she heard her say ‘mom’. She felt ready to cry again.

“Yes?”

A little more awake now, they broke away from her and spoke up. “You should go to bed. It's late.” 

Tomoko felt a little silly hearing that after using the same line so many times on her twins. Ryoma, though hardly ever gave her an occasion to. Such a hard worker, always so tired. It worried her, truthfully, but Ryoma would never let up. 

She smiled. “Okay, but you should come with me.” 

Ryoma was too sleepy to disagree. 

With a decent deal of effort, Tomoko managed to hoist Ryoma onto her back, and started towards her bedroom. Short as she was, the young mother was strong. It also helped that Ryoma was thin as she was tall, so the transition was fairly smooth. Tomoko laid them down on one side of the bed, and she took up the other.

“Goodnight.” 

Ryoma didn't answer. Tomoko looked to the side to find Ryoma already asleep. She was having another dream, but this time it would be much nicer. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Everywhere, Everything

Ever since they started trying for a baby she’d felt this pressure that it had to work. That sex was no longer one of the things they did to express how much they loved each other, but it had a functional purpose too. One that so far, didn’t seem to be working. 

AKA - The one where Aaron overhears Emily talk about her concerns about their sex life as they are trying to conceive, and he assures her they have nothing to worry about.

-x-

Hi friends!!

This is a very so slightly early birthday present for the lovely @cloudlessly-light!! It's her birthday tomorrow, and it seemed fitting that I'd write her some filth to mark the occasion.

Thank you for being my friend, for putting up with the constant snippets of fics and photos of my cat, and for generally just being such a lovely amazing person <3 Love you very much!

I hope you enjoy this, I purposely attempted to make it my filthiest fic yet (but with the classic Vic twist of all the feelings)

-x-

Words: 4.7k (we all know I can't control myself)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, pregnancy, discussion around trying to conceive

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It was starting to get to her. 

She and Aaron were trying for a baby. It was something they’d spoken about for a little while, both of them aware it was something they wanted and something they didn’t have a whole lot of time to make happen. Emily could practically hear her biological clock ticking, every negative test and arrival of her period making the sound louder, reverberating around her head in a way she was struggling to ignore. 

Before she’d allowed herself to get her hopes up she’d spoken to her doctor, Aaron’s hand wrapped tightly around hers as she went through a barrage of tests, to find out if she could have children. If the damage Ian had left behind had impacted her ability to conceive or carry a child, a thought that in her worst moments would make her chuckle darkly, the heavy irony of it not lost on her as it sat on her chest. 

The doctor had assured her that everything looked good, that there was no physical reason why she couldn’t get pregnant, and she let hope take over. She let herself start to imagine it, a little boy or girl who was half her and half Aaron, doomed to be the most stubborn person to ever walk the planet. 

She threw away her contraceptive pills two weeks before they got married. She gets carried away with fairytale thoughts of falling pregnant on her honeymoon, of coming home with more than they’d left with. 

She hadn’t been that lucky. 

It had only been four months since their wedding, and she knew she was being hard on herself, that in the grand scheme of things it really hadn’t been that long, but she could feel the hope start to fade. Sadness starting to creep its way in when she took a test only for it to be negative, her period only ever a few hours behind her making the decision to pee on a stick as if her body was mocking her. 

She’d fallen pregnant the first time she’d ever had sex. A quick fumble with a boy who later blamed her for it all, leaving the decision he’d got to walk away from solely on her 15-year-old shoulders. It felt wrong, almost cruel, that the same wasn’t true now. That it was proving more difficult now she was married to the love of her life, now this was something she could want and have.

She blows out a steady breath and pours herself a glass of wine, rolling her neck slightly as she places the bottle back in Dave’s fridge, mentally preparing herself to slap a smile back on her face and rejoin the merriment in the next room. Pasta nights had become a staple in their lives, something that the team had as often as they could. Usually, she was grateful for it, for the distraction, but right now all she wanted to do was wallow in her misery. 

“Em?” 

She turns to see JJ walking towards her, an empty glass in her hand, “Sorry,” she says, pulling the bottle back out of the fridge, “I should have asked if you wanted something.”

JJ shakes her head and hands her the glass, “No need to apologise,” she says, and Emily can feel her staring at her. She turns and smiles at her friend as she passes her back the now full wine glass, “I thought you were off alcohol.” 

Emily smiles tightly at the tone of her friend's voice, the gentle push to it. She knows JJ would accept any answer, that she’d let her wave it off if she wanted to, but she finds herself sighing, her hip against the counter as she takes a sip of her wine.

“I am, mostly,” she says, her smile turning sad, “No need to be for the next few days though,” she shrugs, “I’m definitely not pregnant, so I thought I’d indulge myself.” 

It was slowly becoming a custom of hers, a glass of wine or scotch when she got her period. The rest of the time she avoided drinking, a measure she took just in case. 

“Oh, Em-”

“It’s fine,” she says, waving off the sympathy she doesn’t want to hear, sure it will somehow mean there was something that was wrong, “I know it hasn’t even been that long. My OBGYN said it could take a while. I just…” she shakes her head at herself and clears her throat, “I just want it so much.” 

JJ nods and places her hand on Emily’s arm and squeezes gently, “Have you spoken to Hotch about this?”

Emily sighs, “Yes and no,” she says, blowing out a breath as she thinks of how he’d hugged her tightly in their bathroom just a few days ago when her period started, his lips against her forehead as he told her it would be okay, “It just feels like so much pressure. Sex is already starting to feel a little…regimented. Like there is no spontaneity.” 

Their sex life had always been healthy. They never seemed to tire of each other, and their need for each other hadn’t faded as they moved from a new couple to a long-term relationship to husband and wife. If anything, as time went on she found she wanted him more, something she knew was reciprocated. Something about their life together, about the way they loved each other, making the sex even better than it had ever been. 

Ever since they started trying for a baby she’d felt this pressure that it had to work. That sex was no longer one of the things they did to express how much they loved each other, but it had a functional purpose too. One that so far, didn’t seem to be working. 

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by a crashing sound that sounds like it’s coming from the living room, and she shakes her head, smiling briefly at the thought of Derek and Spencer once again breaking some of Dave’s belongings. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Emily says, taking another sip of her wine, “It’s still incredible, Aaron has never…” She smiles as she clears her throat, well aware her husband wouldn’t thank her for divulging too much, “Let’s just say he’s never let me down.” 

JJ raises an eyebrow, “Never?” 

Emily smiles, “Never,” she confirms, and her smile slips slightly as she shrugs, “I think I just miss how it was before we were doing it on specific days because a stick I peed on tells me it’s the best day to try.” 

JJ squeezes her arm again and smiles reassuringly, “You’ll get there, Em.” 

Emily nods, wishing she could share in her friend's optimism, “Yeah. We’ll get there.”

___

Aaron was worried about his wife. 

He’d watched as she got increasingly disappointed over the last few months. He’d felt her hugs get tighter, more desperate when he’d try to comfort her as she threw a negative pregnancy test into the trash. 

The most recent time had only been a few days ago, and he could still see the tension in her shoulders. He’d tried to get them out of going to Dave’s, offering to make it his fault they weren’t going so she wouldn’t have to explain anything, but she’d shaken him off. Insistent that it was easier to go along and pretend everything was okay.

He’d offered to get her drink for her once she’d finished her wine, but she’d smiled at him and said she was fine and she went herself. Her hand briefly squeezing his before she let go. He watches the time and he starts to worry when she’s gone for longer than expected. He makes his excuses as he leaves the room, desperate to seek her out. To provide whatever comfort he can.

As he gets closer to the kitchen he hears his wife's voice, the way she sighs as she speaks.  “I know it hasn’t even been that long. My OBGYN said it could take a while. I just…I just want it so much.” 

He comes to a stop, frozen in place by how sad she sounds. He knows she’s been struggling more than she would admit. Her disappointment internalised, pointed inwards as if she had done something wrong, a thought he couldn’t seem to free her from no matter how much he tried. 

“Have you spoken to Hotch about this?” JJ asks, and he suddenly feels bad for listening, but finds himself unable to move, wanting desperately to know what Emily was going to say so he could help. 

Emily sighs, “Yes and no. It just feels like so much pressure. Sex is already starting to feel a little…regimented. Like there is no spontaneity.” 

It feels like a punch to the gut, guilt he wasn’t expecting almost knocking him breathless as he takes a step backwards, almost knocking a framed photo from the wall. The sound of it hitting the wall as he rescues it spurs him into action, his body finally moving as he walks away to give his wife and their friend some privacy. 

As he walks back to the living room he starts to formulate a plan in his head. He might not be able to fix it all for her, but he could certainly make some things better.

And he’d start with date night. 

___

Emily lets out a slow breath as she walks into her house, tension seeping out of her shoulders the moment she’s over the threshold. The peace she found here, the first place that had ever felt like home, unmatched.

She shrugs off her coat and kicks off her shoes. She yawns and rolls her shoulders as she does so it’s only when she hears the familiar click in her joint, how loud it echoes around her, she realises how quiet the house is. It was unusual, the halls usually filled with Jack’s laughter or his favourite TV show. She frowns, she knew Aaron was home because he’d seen his car in the driveway. She steps further into the house and calls out. 

“Aaron, honey?” 

“In the dining room.” 

She smiles as she follows his voice, “Where’s Jack, it’s so…” She drifts off as she walks into the dining room, her words stolen as she looks at the set-up in the dining room.

The table was set for dinner for two, the smell of her favourite meal in the air. There were candles in the middle, and a vase with a bunch of wildflowers, the lights in the room dimmed so the candles flickered across the walls. She smiles as she looks at her husband, dressed casually in a polo shirt and a pair of jeans, a far cry from the suit she’d seen him in just a couple of hours ago. 

“What’s all this?” She asks as she walks over to him, her hands skimming his waist as she wraps her arms around him. He smiles softly as he stamps a kiss on her lips. 

“Date night,” he answers as if it was obvious, pulling her close. He runs his hands up and down her back, “Jack is with Jessica for the night,” he says, kissing her cheek and then her lips again, “It’s just us.” 

She smiles and leans in closer, soaking up the warmth and comfort only he could provide, “You know,” she says softly, biting the inside of her cheek, “I’m your wife now, you don’t have to try to impress me anymore.” 

He frowns, furrowing his brows at her, “Of course I do,” he says, kissing her once more before he leads her to her chair, pulling it back for her so she can sit down at the space he’d set. He kisses her shoulder before he stands up straight, “I’ll never stop dating you.” 

She shakes her head at him as he sits down and narrows her eyes, “I’m assuming all of this is why JJ insisted I went for coffee for her after work?”

Aaron nods, “I may have asked for her help.” 

She hums before she leans in to kiss his cheek, “You’re sweet.” 

They sit and enjoy their dinner, talking about anything and everything as they eat. She feels the tension that had been building in her chest ease a little, the pressure she was putting on herself lifting as she simply spent some time with her husband. Eventually, once their food has settled down and the candles have almost burnt out, he reaches for her hand and guides her to stand. He kisses her, stealing the breath from her lungs and she sighs, burying her hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp as she holds him close. He smiles as he breaks the kiss, pulling away just enough that he can link his fingers through hers, gently tugging to guide her away from the dining room table. 

“Wait,” she says gently, coming to a stop, “The dishes.”

He cups her cheek and kisses her again, “I’ll do them later.” 

He leans down and blows out the candles before he leads her out of the room. He’s insistent as they make it up the stairs, his hands on her hips and his lips on her neck, nipping and licking at her skin, drawing out moans she couldn’t control if she wanted to. 

As soon as they are in their bedroom he turns her, his lips against hers as he leads her to their bed. She sighs as he lowers her onto the bed, his weight against her all too briefly before he pulls away, putting space between them as he unbuttons her pants, tugging them down her legs, taking them and her socks off all at once. She pushes herself up on the bed, resting on her elbows as she looks at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as he kneels on the floor at the end of the bed. 

He presses a kiss to one of her ankles, groaning at the softness of her skin against his lips, something he still wasn’t used to after all this time. He works his way up her leg, pressing kisses to her skin as he goes, maintaining eye contact with her, watching as her breath catches in her chest as he reaches her thigh. He kisses a bruise he’d left days ago, licking against his fingerprints, proof that she belonged to him. 

She fists her hands in the sheets beneath her as he licks her through her underwear, groaning at the taste of her through the cotton barrier. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he mutters as he pulls away, leaning back in for a moment to breathe her in, wanting nothing more than to get lost in the feel of her, “So fucking good.” 

She lifts her hips as he pulls her underwear down her legs and she takes the chance to pull off her shirt and bra, unceremoniously throwing them somewhere into the corner of the room. She squeals, something she would deny later, when he pulls her further down the bed by her ankles, settling her legs over his shoulders as he knelt back down on the floor. 

He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain he knows he’ll feel tomorrow, because he just wants his. Her. A moment between the two of them that was about nothing other than them. 

They let out simultaneous moans as he licks through her, tasting her directly from the source as he dips his tongue into her. She rolls her hips at his face, her eyes flickering closed as everything except him and the way he was making her feel disappears. She lets him build her up, none of her usual impatience anywhere to be found. He pulls her apart with his tongue and his fingers like he’d written the manual for her body, something he’d been able to do since the very first night they’d spent together. 

She didn’t believe in soulmates, the thought that there was just one person out there for everyone ridiculous, but if she did, she knew he’d be hers. In the moments when she let herself get carried away by it all, by the way he made her feel, she thinks this was what everything in her life had been leading to. Every bump in the road, every crack she’d fallen down and had to climb back out of had been part of her journey to this. To him. To the life they had together. 

He presses his hand onto her lower belly, keeping her hips in place, as she comes. She moans as it washes over her, her entire body on fire as she tips over the edge. For a moment, she loses her ability to think and when she opens her eyes he’s looking at her, unadulterated affection in his eyes. 

“What?” She asks, her voice breathless, and he smiles as he gently lowers her legs down off of his shoulders, her calves shaking as her feet hit the floor. 

“Nothing,” he says, leaning forward to kiss her, pressing the taste of herself onto her lips, “You’re beautiful.”

She smiles, chasing his kiss before she reaches for his belt buckle, but he stands back, putting space between them as he quickly undresses himself, “What?” 

He smiles as she repeats herself, seemingly only capable of one word at the moment, and he steps out of his pants and throws his polo shirt over his shoulder. 

“Tonight,” he says as he encourages her further up the bed, laying on top of her as she widens her legs, letting him settle between her thighs as he kisses up her chest, “Is all about you.”

She doesn’t have a chance to argue with him, to ask what he means, because he steals the breath from her again as he licks over her already hardened nipple, laving at it until she’s sore, squirming beneath him as he switches his attention to her other breast. 

“Aaron,” she mutters, hooking a leg around him, her heel against his ass as she tries to encourage him to stop teasing her, “Please.” 

He smirks against her skin, licking the sweat from her collarbone before he carries on moving upwards, switching between kissing and gently biting her throat and then jaw. When he kisses her, his lips stamped against hers, it’s softer than she’s expecting. She cups the back of his hand and holds him in place, rolling her hips up against his, making them both moan as he notches against her. 

She reaches between them with her spare hand, smirking into their kiss when he groans as she pumps him up and down a couple of times before she guides him into her. They both moan at the familiar stretch, pressing their foreheads together as his hips meet hers, their skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters, his breath skipping across her skin, “You feel so good,” he says, kissing every part of her he can reach. Her nose, her cheek, her lips, “So good and all mine.”

“All yours,” she says, rolling her hips against him again, a silent request for him to move, something he does immediately, “All yours.”

She knows that no matter how many times they do this, it is still as amazing as the first time, if not more incredible. It was familiar but not in a way that was boring, but in a way that felt like coming home at the end of a long day. A comfort she can’t believe she ever lived without. 

Something she didn’t want to lose, ever. No matter where life takes them. 

They match each other’s rhythm, their hands linked on the bed next to her head, their foreheads pressed together as they look at each other. As connected as two people could ever be, physically and emotionally. He feels her tighten around him, her thighs twitching at his hips, and he reaches between them to circle her clit, wanting nothing more than to make her feel good. 

She comes, her vision going dark as she tips over the edge, and she pulls him in for a kiss. She smiles against his lips as she feels his hips jerk against her, and she encourages him to move off of her, shifting onto shaky arms and legs as she flips over, looking at him over her shoulder, her smile turning into a smirk. 

He kneels behind her, the sight of her like this, ready and waiting in front of him, enough to make him lose his mind. He leans down and licks through her from behind, smiling when she gasps in surprise, looking at him again with a look in her eyes that he could only call feral. He rests his hands on her hips and pushes into her again, groaning at the feeling of her around him, at the way she immediately clenches. 

She moans loudly, her body sensitive but desperate for more as she pushes back, desperate for the stretch of him that feels impossibly bigger from this angle. She lets him set the pace, harder than it had been already that evening, and she moans, never having really had the chance to recover from her previous orgasms. 

He pulls her upright, his arms around her middle as he holds her in place, thrusting up into her in a way that steals the breath from her lungs. She lets out a strangled noise, turning her head to bury her face in his neck, unable to do anything other than roll her hips against his, gasping with every thrust he pushed up into her, carving a space inside of her only he’d ever been able to reach. 

“Aaron,” she says, his name catching in her throat, “I…”

“Are you going to come again for me?” He asks, his voice rough, an indication he is close too. Her only answer is a nod, her forehead pressing into his cheek, and he reaches for her clit, careful as he gently rubs circles on her swollen skin. 

“Fuck,” she moans, her hips stuttering as she rushes towards the edge again, every nerve ending in her body on fire. 

He tips over the edge with her this time, spilling deep inside of her as they both come, the only sound left in the room their heavy breathing. He places his hand on her cheek, his fingers slippery with her and pulls her into a kiss. 

“I love you,” she says, her lips barely away from his, her words skipping over his skin.

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her once more before he encourages her to sit up just enough that he can slip out from under her. He kisses her forehead as he stands, “I’ll be right back.” 

She nods as she flops back onto the bed, still trying to catch her breath as she looks up at the ceiling. She smiles at him when he walks back into the bedroom with a towel, cleaning them both up before he disposes of it in the hamper in the corner of the room and joins her on the bed, shifting them both to the top so he can pull the covers over them. 

She curls into his side, resting her head on his chest as he pulls her as close as possible. She reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, smiling at the sight of his ring on his finger, memories of the day she’d slipped it on flooding back. She bites her lip as she thinks of the promises they’d made each other that day, of the excited undertones to everything they said as they both thought of the future they were planning. 

She sighs as she tilts her head to look up at him, “Did JJ say something to you?” She asks, making sure her voice is even so he knows she’s not mad, “Is that why you planned tonight?” 

He smiles down at her and runs his hand up and down her back, “No,” he says, kissing her forehead, “No I…I overheard you talking to her at Dave’s a couple of weeks ago,” he admits, smiling tightly at her, “I didn’t mean to, but I did and I heard you say you missed the spontaneity, so I wanted to give you some.” 

She smiles, unable to hold it back as she sits up just enough to rest her arms on his chest, “Wait a minute, you overheard me saying I missed the spontaneous side of our sex life, so you spent two weeks meticulously planning a date night right down to the detail of having my best friend distract me whilst you set it up?” 

He frowns, his cheeks burning with embarrassment at the amused look on her face, “Well,” he clears his throat, “When you put it like that-”

She cuts him off with a kiss, her lips firm against his before she pulls back, “I love you so much. You’re…” she trails off as she shakes her head, lost for words, “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” 

“I love you,” he says, pushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear, “And that isn’t dependant on anything. It’s unconditional. I’ll love you no matter what.” 

She hears what he hasn’t said. That he’d love her if they had a dozen children or if it was just them and Jack for the rest of their lives. She hadn’t realised how much she’d needed the reassurance, the doubt and everything else had that slowly crept in over the last few months never too far away. 

She doesn’t want to lose this moment to it, to let it be marred, so she smiles and nods, resting her head back on his shoulder. 

“Right back at you.” 

___

9 Months Later 

It was starting to get to her. 

She groans as she tries to get comfortable but gives up almost immediately, well aware it is a lost cause. 

“Your days in there are numbered, sweet girl,” she grumbles, rubbing her hand over her bump, her skin stretched almost to its limit over her daughter, “Consider this your eviction notice.” 

She smiles as she feels a kick that almost feels like a response, the sass their little girl had seemed to have from the very start, something Aaron said she’d inherited from her, making itself known. There were still moments, no matter how massive and uncomfortable she felt, when she still couldn’t believe that this was real, that she was days away from having a baby. The baby she’d half convinced herself she’d never have. 

Emily smiles as she hears the front door open quickly followed by her husband's voice, “Sweetheart?” 

“In the living room,” she calls back, “Right where I was when you left this morning.” 

He laughs and walks to the living room, his smile only getting wider when he sees her on the couch, one of his old shirts stretched over her belly, “There are my girls.” 

Emily hums as he kisses the top of her head before sitting next to her, his arm immediately around her, “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” he replies, placing his hand on her bump, “The team miss you. How are you?” 

She groans as she rests her head on his shoulder, “The usual mat leave crap. Heartburn, swollen ankles, tears and the odd practice contraction.” 

He kisses the side of her head again, “You won’t believe the number of routes I have planned to get us to the hospital when you go into labour. I have every eventuality planned for.” 

She can’t help but smile, a joke that had formed between them months ago on the night she’s sure they conceived their daughter already on the tip of her tongue. 

“What, you’re not going to be spontaneous? That’s so unlike you.” 

He sighs and shakes his head at her, the glint in his eyes letting her know he was suppressing a smile, “You’re never going to let that go are you?” 

She chuckles, “Absolutely not.” 

“You’re lucky I love you.” 

She leans in and kisses him, her hand on his cheek as she pulls away, “I really am.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Belly Dance Downloads Week 26 or So

Here is an itemize list of what I'm experiencing:

1. Stimulation of greater blood flow circulation in abdomen and greater blood flow circulation means more blood flow to my heart and brain. In other words belly dance, taken seriously as alchemy, makes us more loving and smarter. If you tend to get cramps during your monthly cycle, belly dance will help support you in having less cramps or none at all.

2. More strengthening and flexibility in my abdomen muscles and diaphragm--which means that belly dance improves our breathing efficiency and the flames of our vitality. We become healthier and more alive and creative through the slow stretch and phatness happening in our center.

3. A release of deeply rooted, entangbled abdominal tensions which allows for better digestion. Deeply rooted tension and the accompanying trapped energy are some root causes for larger or hardened belly sizes which discourages the natural free flow of energy throughout the whole body and the body experiencing waves of real relaxation. Belly blockages are incredibly common which disables one's heart from opening up or inhibits the person from living life with more more trust and faith and less triggers. With all the pole and aerial, my belly started to feel too hard for my liking and my skin had been breaking out on and off for a few months. Later, I realized that it wasn’t just muscle in my belly but old stuck contracted energy. When we belly dance, no matter our belly size, we help clear stuckness and other physical and energetic debris in our digestive track and thereby soften/relax our belly tissues and make our skin even more beautiful naturally. Skin care and digestive care go hand-in-hand.

What I am now noticing is that I have more awareness and sensation of my internal organs. Because of the constant personal attention and decompression through belly dance and its gyrations and shakes at the belly and hips, the female center of reality that stores OLD emotion and inner child wounds, I can feel my liver, lungs, and even my kidneys at the back being shaken up, and not only feel them, but drop down them into a communicative intimacy with them. I don't have this need to look "good" when I belly dance or have everything right or in order because I truly just enjoy being inside myself, inside my body, soft gazing or eyes closed, laughing and smiling, and tuning into the musical hip drops and pelvic shimmies. I feel incredibly sexy and sensuous for no reason at all— a kind of liberation and freedom that they don’t teach in feminism.

Being disconnected from our female bodies not only causes us to tell lies to ourselves -mainly because we don't know our true selves-- therefore we create our lives to be a living hell unknowingly.

The Soil of Truth

You can't create your life unless you know yourself. That's why there is nothing more important than you being connected to your body--not a deadline, not a lover, and certainly not being pregnant or having a child, but obviously any kind of child neglect is not what I'm talking about. Nothing is truthful if you don't have a relationship with your body, alongside your relationships with others. Now your body starts to feel warm and safe, instead of like a dangling carrot.

We must grow ourselves beyond the lies we were taught about being women, being self-less and self-sacrificing, and begin to feel safe, warm, anointed, aroused, or excited to simply get to know our bodies and the soft power, the feminine power, this womb power that lives within---this spaciousness where there are no worries or anxieties, and we are held, covered, and just know--things. We are no longer in our minds scared and anticipating other people's reactions of us BEING who we are, living our lives as we craft them to be. We just begin to align: dream, act, and live, LIVE, because we are far more in the center of our bodies, awakened in our bodies, than hanging in the limits of our programmed minds. --India Ame'ye, Author tension

[cherriah-writes]

@somerandomdudelmao I have a gift for you I guess you could think of it as a redraw? Technically? I just loved this scene and looking at Ward's expressions and wondering what he's thinking

Ward followed Sculptor down the hall, battling his sense of unease. It had been his constant companion for the entire time they were on that cursed ship, and his nerves were fried. He still hadn't gotten used to the feeling of being constantly watched. Still, he tried to keep from jumping at every sound. Sculptor had only been helpful so far, and none of the vague threats of being eaten had come to fruition, so he decided to trust the tall, green alien as much as he trusted anyone there. (Which, honestly wasn't much, but he figured it counted for something.)

Plus, he wasn't sure what the aliens considered to be the price of disobedience, and he didn't particularly want to find out.

"Where are we going?" Ward asked after a few moments of silence.

"To my workshop," Sculptor answered lightly. "I want to learn more about your species."

"Ah." That was probably why he'd asked which of the two humans was smarter - Ward guessed Oscar would probably just ramble about turtles or something. "Great? I think."

He came up to the workshop, which was incredibly dark. Something about it made his instincts scream louder - like they were shouting at him, Danger! Danger! Danger!

He swallowed. "Wow... It's... really dark in here..." Please turn on the lights, he thought. 

"My apologies. My crew doesn't need any light to see. We only use lamps in public places for health reasons."

Like that made any sense. "Okay..." he said slowly. "Cool place, not creepy at all." Danger! Danger! Danger!

"Thank you," Sculptor said, apparently oblivious to Ward's sarcasm. "Now, before I begin, I want to remind you that we're in the middle of open space."

The light coming in from the hallway only illuminated a strange black ring in the ceiling of the workshop. As Ward watched, a dozen spider-like, mechanical arms lowered themselves out of the circle, their hissing, shifting noise seeming to worm its way into his brain. 

Oh, no.

"If you decide to run away," Sculptor continued in the same passive lilt, "you'll have nowhere to go."

Ward's heart stopped in his chest. He stared up at Sculptor, whose face was still the same neutral expression, like he'd been discussing something normal instead of - whatever this was. 

When had his eye things started glowing?

All the sudden, from all sides, the mechanical arms were grabbing him. With a strange strength and fluidity, they wrapped around his limbs, torso, head--

He tried desperately to fight them, but they were all around him, and he couldn't even get them to budge. His heart was racing, adrenaline lending him useless strength. "Hey! What are you... wait! Can we talk about this? What are you-"

His words grew muffled as one of the arms wrapped around his head, holding his mouth shut. He tried to scream, to yell, to do anything, but nothing came out. The other arms slowly stifled his mobility, holding him perfectly still. He breathed heavily through his nose, heart beating so heavily against his chest he thought it might break out. Panic was setting in, and he was hopelessly, helplessly still.

"I'm going to cut you open and see what your insides have to offer," Sculptor said with a smile - the only time throughout this entire disaster that he'd shown any kind of emotion. Ward blanched. "Don't worry. You won't feel a thing."

Ward watched one mechanical arm with an alarmingly sharp tip get closer to his face, then flinched as he felt a stinging, sharp pain against his neck. He screamed, silent to everyone but himself. 

The wound on the side of his neck didn't hurt as much as it should have, he was pretty sure. Despite his racing thoughts, it was hard for him to think. Blood loss? No, it couldn't be, not yet-

He closed his eyes and curled in on himself as much as he could in a vain attempt to protect himself - which, frankly, wasn't much. He shied away as he felt the Sculptor reach up and drag his finger against the wound.

He felt dizzy, and his head was getting foggier and foggier. It felt like his brain was slowly getting smothered, and his heart rate slowed down. Then, it kept slowing down. It lost speed until he wasn't even aware of it anymore - not that he was aware of much, at that point.

"Delicious indeed," Sculptor said, sounding pleased with himself. Ward's head shot up again in inexpressible fear, and Sculptor's leering, glowing face seemed to be the only thing in the room.

The door to the hallway closed behind Sculptor's head, cutting off the outside light. The only thing that Ward could see was the eerie glow of the alien's not-eyes. He felt a single stab of hopelessness before, mercifully, his thoughts slowed to a stop and he dropped into unconsciousness.

[yuseirra]

hope youre doing better :(

after the stuff with projmoon snowballed into... wildly gesturing at the witch hunts... yeah, it makes complete sense to just be so. distraught, over it all.

i hope one day you can feel safe to be on twitter, especially given how much of a big network it was for artists, or be able to find a new network that is just as good. and i hope you stay safe, and find comfort in p3r, given how soon it is to release :)

your art has always been really soft and beautiful, and just. i love the way your colouring works? especially after learning it is all individual strokes? between those, and the comics which are always a delight to read, even when i have no idea what the media its about is...

please stay safe

Hello anon!// I'm so happy you care about my feelings and your message is very considerate, I'm glad I could put out my feelings in words and have so many of you show care for me. It's kind of sad, on how there's people giving out the pain and they are really not the ones being affected by how I feel, whereas, I'm making a lot of people who care for my welfare worry but that's pretty much how everything goes all the time... I wish it weren't that way. I've been trying very hard to look at the good sides and remain cheerful and retain hope and be loving, as I could. However it's been a little hard lately kinda, it's been affecting me in a really bad way and I could feel it crawl up my skin so I had to let something out in order to allow me some breathing space. In order to be a good yuseirra (which I want to be) I know I have to be true to myself.

Before I begin anything, everyone's been so kind to me and I respect that. I don't hold any grudge against someone who mistreated me in person because there were none (which is what I consider to be a miracle!). To be honest, I had no reason to discard my decade old account with so many fond memories if looking at a personal standpoint. Still, I kept getting agonized because I kept encountering so many of these toxicity and cruelty being thrown at people, I wanted to do something about it but online's just not the place to go. There's always this huge-,, risk of being misunderstood here, harassed, being slandered, and being broken apart into pieces and people aren't willing to listen to each other, a lot of them jump straight into conclusions and they are so eager to decide and go strike as hard as they can because mildly put, they have something on their minds that they think are important and are very just in their own way. It may be nothing new, but it's grown in such a huge scale where I originate to the extent I just don't think it's all right to overlook. It's not fine. It's really, really bad. It's been dragging me down, so draining, making me lose hope on internet and how well it can be used as a medium to communicate, which is an idea I don't want to carry in my heart for so long...

It's a bit like treading on ice on a constant basis. I have to be very careful with my words all the time. I think I did "alright" myself (I can never be sure but I try) but seeing things happen is another thing. That alone put me in so much pain. It feels like talking to a wall. I wouldn't say I feel exactly helpless about it, but I did feel like I wasn't going to help anything the way I am now. What should I do? What could I do? I kept thinking about it, I never want to add on to that kind of behavior or add some kind of momentum to it. I won't contribute to it. I am thinking about what I can do. '-')9

Distraught.. I do think that's the word. Hehe, remember how when you're overlevelled in tartarus and you can encounter some shadows, that are all distressed? I've been playing p3p again, and it made me think about how I was feeling a little. "Distressed".. I am very distressed. And I can't say I like what's happening around me, it's not a pretty sight to look at. Overall, I am disheartened and sad.

But that doesn't mean I'm weak, or that I'm some underlevelled shadow waiting to be exterminated, oh no I'm not weak at all. It's because I am a sensitive person who cares a lot. I'm hurt because I care enough to want things to be better.

I have amazing anons and friends who've been supporting me, so I think I'll be okay in the long run. I was so happy from the messages I got yesterday and it once again helped me realize there's a lot of warmth and good in this world and that people are willing to help each other out, it's a faith I want to keep and you guys give it to me. I'm glad I can meet all of you!///

Mhm! It's a shame I stepped out of the platform but I'd like to reach more people through my art, I still have a ways to go in terms of improvement, but art's been a way to communicate with more people for me. Rn I'll take a good rest, and find comfort, recharge a bit and I'll be able to be the person I want to be/share my good sides as a human being! When you're very sad or strained, it's a lot harder to do that and some parts of you that you don't want to show off keeps rubbing off out of your words and actions. It's tragic and embarrassing when that happens...

no one is perfect. I wish people can be kinder to one another, because from what I've learned through the ages, yeah there ARE people that are irredeemable but they are the minority!! Most people want to be understood, and they have something going on that you don't really understand from your own perspective. You don't know what another person is going through, so how can you judge someone so quickly? I don't think I'll be able to do that even if I had the ability to read minds. Which is (by that I mean the mind and human psychology)a subject I was always so intrigued about. The more I learn about it, it's very complex and delicate, sometimes it tends to be foolish; but yet, aren't we all since we all are human after all?

This grew so long but I have to comment towards your compliment towards my art ;v;.. I'm glad I draw whenever I find someone who shows it a lot of affection and looks at it with much care, thank you for using those tender adjectives to describe my drawings.. "soft", "beautiful", I love it!/// Now I can see my own art that way as well! thinking yeah, that kind anon earlier, they said my art was soft, yes it's soft indeed.. hhhsh and that's wonderful.

I also want to say, I do put a lot of thought into my comics when I write the dialogues for them.. I read them over a lot to see if they make sense and have some sort of unity that wraps them all together as one! Usually I have some feeling I want to express, and a lot of the times I want to show what and how these two characters feel towards each other(on many occasions if not most, they care for one another) through it and I'm glad to know it's been giving you delight even regardless of what the original material is!! I'm glad I could make something fun even for someone who isn't familiar with the fandom too!

I will be happy to share more with you anon, recently, I feel like I'm on a bit of a roll with art! I am getting better and I think my art is growing over the years. I look forward to showing you and the others more things, so will you be here with me? :) I'll be happy to have you here!

I'll try my best to stay safe! Indeed, my choices earlier was to do just that '-')9 I want to be with you all for a long time.

See you around anon!!

Sincerely yours, Yuseirra