#its fine its just been a long few months and things keep piling up and im supposed to be making importnat life decisions and i feel like an

[huginsmemory]

Where's that one Ford art post thats like I'm in the best years of my life clutching a hot pink thermos thingy with hot gurl juice when he's clearly not. cause damn . Yeah

[oracle-of-dream]

Just Listen

Minors DNI & Not Proofread

Summary: Sunghoon's been having a tough time at work. And now with you... If only he could get you to listen to him.

Warnings: Male Reader, Dom! Sunghoon, Creampie, No-prep, Obedience Kink

Sunghoon sighed as he looked at the sign on the elevator.

Out of Order in old red letters. He turned to start walking up the stairs. It was a long day at the law firm–especially training some new prosecutors. They were just so rebellious... If they'd listened to Sunghoon's instructions the first time, life wouldn't be nearly as difficult.

Finally, he reached the top of the stairs. He could see the door to his apartment slightly ajar down the hall. "I swear to god... I ask for the simplest things," he groaned as he pulled it open. As he stepped inside, trying but failing to suppress an icy demeanor. He saw you sprawled on the couch.

His tone was flat, and his eyebrows laid straight. "Y/n, you left the door unlocked and open. Again." Sunghoon pulled the door behind him, removed his suit jacket, and placed it neatly in the closet.

"Oh, well, I knew you'd be home soon..." You said, mumbling as you tried not to hold his glare.

"Did you?" His eyes drifted over your form, taking in the way your shirt rode up slightly, exposing a strip of smooth skin. "And me being near home convinced you to leave the door open, inviting strangers in?"

"I didn't invite anyone–"

"You know what I mean."

You looked over to the kitchen. "I-I just finished making dinner."

Sunghoon's head didn't turn away, but his eyes glanced over to the dish on the stove. "Oh, you cooked... So did you smoke up the place and need to air it out?"

"N-No!"

Sunghoon looked around, noticing the smoke alarm had its battery removed. "Next time, just open a fucking window."

You stood with a huff. "Hey, no cursing. I just wanted to welcome you home with something nice after a long day..." You walked to him, scooping his hand and playing with his fingers. "I thought we could relax together tonight."

Sunghoon stared at your hand as it laced with his. "So did you throw away your mess in the house or outside?"

"Outside."

"And the dish is from the restaurant down the street?"

"Actually it's two streets over."

Sunghoon couldn't help but crack a smile. "Well, fine. I'll let you off this time since you got us a meal... That I paid for." He knew he'd get a charge for tonight's dinner on this month's statement, but he left a second card to his account with you so he could spoil you even when he wasn't present. "Do you need help cleaning?"

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it! I'll take care of it, just relax."

Sunghoon nodded. "I'll let you handle it then. Let's watch a movie while we eat. I know there's a new sci-fi one you mentioned."

"I don't know... Last time we watched a movie I wanted, you couldn't even wait 5 minutes."

"I accidentally sat on the remote a few times."

"And then proceeded to make out with me?"

Your boyfriend's eyebrows wiggled slightly. "It's just to give you those special attention-grabbing moments. But don't worry. tonight, I promise–no interruptions, no distractions. Just us, the movie, and food." He flashed a smirk. "Unless, of course, you get a little bored during the movie."

"I won't get bored. I wanna watch it, so keep your hands to yourself."

"We can't cuddle?" Sunghoon's eyes peeked past his glasses, with a slight beg.

You ignored his request, sitting on the couch. He joined you, adjusting some pillows and piling some food onto a plate.

The movie started, and Sunghoon behaved as promised. You were a little sad he wasn't getting a little touchy... You leaned against him, and he shifted a bit.

"Come on," He patted his chest. "Lay here, I'll hold you. Just holding." You laid on his chest, his warmth pressing against yours. Your back against his chest as his hands wrapped around your waist in a gentle embrace. Sunghoon started watching you more than the movie. He loved your face when you focused. It was so fucking cute...

The movie reached the end. Sunghoon waited as he could see your brain digesting it.

"I can't believe she lived at the end... I thought she'd die."

Sunghoon nodded, encouraging you to share your theories. As you ran through the whole film, one part of your rant caught Sunghoon's attention.

"...And the male lead? The romantic interest, he was so handsome! How could they kill him? I was hoping he'd end up surviving with the woman."

Your boyfriend frowned at you calling another man handsome.

"B-But not as handsome as you!"

You tried to recover, but it was already done. Sunghoon always got dramatic when you complimented other men.

"Oh, I didn't realize that kind of guy was your type."

"Hoon, don't start–"

"Don't start? I'm not starting anything. I just thought I should try and look up that guy's phone number so I can connect you guys."

You squirmed out of his arms. "You're being so..."

"So, what?" Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows, taunting you.

Smirking, you stopped yourself from speaking. You stood and drifted away from the couch, making Sunghoon follow you.

"So, what!?" Sunghoon's voice raised a bit, his ears got warm, and could feel his heartbeat spike.

Your smirk faded and your head cocked to the side. "Sunghoon... Why are you so angry suddenly?"

He folded his arms. "I'm not angry."

"You're shouting."

"I'm just speaking loudly."

"That's shouting!"

"Well, don't talk about other guys in front of me!"

You blinked absent-mindedly. "It's a movie! He's an actor, I was just making a fucking comment."

Sunghoon surged toward you, with his index finger out. "Do not curse at me."

"I wasn't cursing AT you."

"Don't get technical with me either, y/n!" Sunghoon's hand rushed through his hair, pushing it back. "Why can't you just listen to me?"

"How am I not listening?"

Your partner held you by your shoulders. You felt small under his grasp as he loomed over you. He took a breath. "I–just mean... I want to be the only guy you think is handsome. Even if you have to let me be delusional a bit." He held you to his chest. "I can't stand the thought of you liking someone more than me."

"I never said I liked him more than you..."

"I know... I just get a bit... jealous."

You press yourself against his chest, listening to his racing heart. "You know you're the only one for me, Hoonie."

Sunghoon lifted your chin. "Just listen to me on this, okay?"

You nodded, earning a smile from him as he leaned in to pair your lips with his. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him deeper. Sunghoon's hands found your waist, and he pulled you together as the kiss got more intense. You pulled away for a breath. "I promise I'll listen a bit more... I'll follow whatever directions you give me."

You giggled as you let your hand slide down his body. When you find what you were looking for, you give it a soft squeeze. Sunghoon groaned in response, and his head threw back as he bucked his hips.

"Mmm, fuck yes... just like that," He groans again, his voice scratchy and desperate. "I need your hands around it."

You could feel his cock getting harder. Sunghoon's cock was big, which shocked you when you saw it the first time. Your favorite thing to do was to feel it get hard. Starting small and growing to almost ten inches... Just thinking about it would make your eyes roll.

Sunghoon guided your hand to palm the zipper, letting you feel the outline of it.

His head fell down to your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "Y/n, I need it."

The way Sunghoon's voice peaked when he begged for your touch. It made a rush run up your spine. He made quick work of his clothes, shrugging out of his shirt and shoving his pants down enough to free his aching erection.

"Remember, our walls aren't too thick. Don't wake the neighbors."

Sunghoon didn't bother trying to take you to the bedroom. He dragged you to the couch and threw you on your back.

"Fuck, stay here," Sunghoon commanded as he rushed off, leaving you alone. "Get those pants off!" He shouts from the bedroom. You giggled as you started sliding your pants off. It wasn't often that Sunghoon was more dominant with you, he was usually more patient.

You could hear the sound of Sunghoon returning to the room, the wet sound of slicking himself up getting louder as he approached. He entered into the room, some lube dripping off his dick.

"Now, let's get you ready." Sunghoon lifted your legs onto his shoulders as he spread your cheeks gently. A finger teased your hole, pressing slightly. "Beg, baby. Let me hear you."

You held in a groan as he smiled at you. "Sunghoon, please. I need it, so bad. Just skip the fingers..."

"Skip the fingers? Are you sure?" Sunghoon's voice teased.

You nodded furiously. "Please, just the tip. Anything!"

"Jeez, you are cock hungry." He listened to the strangled gasp that slipped from your lips as the head of his cock breached your tight entrance. His hands held your hips, pressing into you. You could tell it was going to bruise, and Sunghoon was resisting the urge to split you open and thrust in. "F-Fuck, y/n!" He hissed, voice strained with effort. "You're tighter than I thought."

You struggled to reply as your eyes bulged from the rush. Your eyes bulged and rolled back as your mouth hung open. "If you want to stop, then pull out–"

Your sentence was cut off as Sunghoon pushed deeper. "Don't test me. I'm trying to be nice."

Sunghoon waited to feel you relax before moving in, inch by inch. He made it halfway before you flinched, making him stop.

"Sung, wait– It's too much. I can't..."

Sunghoon opened his eyes to look at you. Your back was arched and your body twitched, which only made you more sensitive. Your eyes were wet and looking into his.

"Can't?" He cocked his head to the side. "Too bad, you'll manage."

"I can't! It won't fit..."

"I'll make it fit." Sunghoon leaned over you, pressing your mouth to his collarbone. "Bite me if it's too tough." Even when he was being dominant, Sunghoon was taking care of you...

His eyes closed with focus. Took a deep breath. And slammed his hips into you as he hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wide around him, he releases a low groan as he leans over you. Your teeth sank into Sunghoon's collarbone.

He stroked your head. "That's it... Take it all. Such a good slut," he growled. "You feel incredible... tight, hot, and wet. I can feel you twitching around me, begging me to fuck you."

You moaned into his neck as Sunghon started a deep, steady rhythm. Slowly pulling out and snapping back into you. Before long, your boyfriend was losing himself in it as he drove his cock into you. The sound of the couch creaked louder with each powerful thrust, slightly pounding the wall.

"Shhh, you can do it," he pants against your ear, and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine. "I don't want to let anyone else hear you being needy for me."

Sunghoon angled his hips, and he found your spot. A scream ripped out of your chest as you detach from his collar.

"Oh, fuck! Sunghoon, I can't breathe! You're so big, so deep!"

Sunghoon hits your prostate exactly with strength.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You almost shout at him.

He smirked. "Untouched? You're so perfect. I'm close too, I swear, it'll be over soon."

Your body tensed and convulsed around him. Sunghoon felt your walls clamp down on his cock like a vice. The sensation was too insane to ignore. With a loud, guttural moan, he buried himself within you as he finished.

"Take it, every drop! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!" He grunted, hips jerking as he emptied himself within you. Thick, hot streams of cum filled you. Some even leaked out as Sunghoon pumped in you through his orgasm.

Sunghoon lets out a weak sigh as he collapses against you, his weight pressing you into the couch.

You twitched and shook as your boyfriend's weight pressed on you. "Holy fuck..."

"You took it so well, baby. I'm so proud." He kissed your nose. "Such a good boy. You took it so good." Sunghoon cooed praises as you drifted into unconsciousness.

When you woke up from your fucked-out nap, Sunghoon had put you in a warm bath. He called in from work to care for you. Servicing you as much as you want...

He kissed your neck as he washed you. "By the way... Today's Friday. The office is closed on the weekend. So we'll have plenty of time to test how obedient you are."

[luvyeni]

❛A VERY HAPPY ENDING❜ ( l. felix )

p. masseuse!felix x fem!reader w. 2.3k

warnings? fingering, boob play, oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, cum eating

— 𖦹 ( you're in need of a break and to relax, so your friend makes you a well needed reservation at a massage parlor ) !

authors note. i suddenly remember when felix would go around and give people massages and i came up with this, so enjoy 😁.

“Jesus yn, what the hell happened in here?” your roommate entered your room. “it’s like a tornado hit your room; did this, left — spun the block and hit it again.” She said, stepping over the pile of clothes on the floor to your bed. “im sorry I didn’t have enough time this week to clean, too busy at work.”

“looks like you didn’t have the time to do your hair and anything else, you look like a hobo.” You clicked away at your keyboard, rolling your eyes. “did you come in here to insult me?” you questioned. “cause that could’ve been a text.”

“I came in here to tell you that you need to take a break, you’re working yourself to death.” She voiced her concerns. “im fine.” You said. “baby no you not and that’s okay, we can fix that cause you can’t keep living like this.” She was right, — your job had recently had layoffs and you and the rest of the people that were spared were worked to the bone to replace the missing people; which meant more work and long hours, so you didn’t have much time to do anything.

“living like what?” you turned in your chair. “babe when was the last time you had any me time?” you shrugged. “maybe about a month ago, I think.” She sighed. “exactly you need to relax, that’s why as your roommate and the bestest friend in the world, I took the liberty of scheduling us both for a massage at my favorite masseuse parlor this weekend.”

“I don’t have time this weekend there’s a— nope I don’t want to hear it.” She covered her ears. “you’re gonna put the laptop down this weekend and go out and have some relaxation time.” She said. “even if I have to drag you out myself.”

You sighed, knowing your friends wouldn’t back down unless you agreed. “fine we’ll go.” She clapped, standing up. “great!” she chipped. “its gonna be great, I swear you’ll feel like a new woman after this.” She said hugging you; before making her way to the door, looking around the room once more. “and maybe then you’ll come to your senses and clean this pigsty.” She scrunched her nose up in disgust before leaving out.

The next few days were busy and finally Friday rolled around and the weekend was finally here. That evening you got home and your friend was already going at your room claiming ‘we need to get this together before we become new women.” You sighed, dropping your bag; changing your clothes before you also jumped in and you tackled the crazy that was your room; you both finished; covered in sweat from the deep clean. “girl you better be paying me fore that.” Your friend huffed. “I worked like a damn dog.”

“thank you.” You said, ready to take a shower and hop into bed. “no problems girl.” Your friend hopped up. “now get some sleep cause our girls day starts at 10:30 am sharp.” She skipped out her room. “and make sure to tidy up down there.” She pointed to your below area. “why do I need to do that?” you crossed your legs. “just listen to me, and do it goodnight.”

“is it noticeable.” You said looking down; had it been a long time? “no.” you scoffed getting your pajamas ready. “shes crazy.” You said, thinking for a minute. “well it couldn’t hurt anyone.” You grabbed a new razor from your nightstand before making your way into the bathroom.

The next day you a woken feeling a little bit more refreshed than usual; sleeping in a little later than normal and in a clean room really was nice. You woke up, getting ready for the day with your roommate.

You spent the whole morning and early afternoon out with your roommate; getting your hair and nails done, shopping for new clothes and other things for the apartment. It was almost time for you both to head over to the massage place; so you stopped for lunch then headed right over.

“we’re here.” She pulled into the parking lot. “it even looks fancy outside.” You stepped out of the car. “I booked our appointments for a least busy time so it should be empty so we won’t have to wait long.” You both walked into the place, standing at the front desk. “hello?” you friend tapped the bells and a boy came scurrying out.

“hello, welcome to our day spa, do you both have a appointment?” he said. “yes we do its under (f/l/n).” he typed down on the computer, your friend turned to you mouthing ‘he’s cute’ to which you shook your head at her antics.

“oh here it is.” He laughed after struggling to find it. “which one of you is scheduled for felix and which one of you is scheduled for changbin?” you turned to your friend. “does it matter?” she nodded. “changbin is much muscular and he hits all the right places “ you furrowed your eye brows. “you seem to know a lot about this place.”

“if I may?” the man in front of you said. “felix is very good too, he’s the most popular here, everyone always asks for him.” You nod, well if he’s good that’s all that matters, anyway a massage is a massage. “okay.”

He guided you both to two different rooms. “you can go in there and you there, they both should be here soon so you can get undressed and wait.” He walked away. “undressed?” you turned to your friend. “yeah you have to fully be undressed.” She said. “is that why you told me to shave?” she winked, walking into her room shutting the door. “crazy.” You walked into your room closing the door.

You stripped down to your underwear, taking the towel, wrapping it around your waist, pulling your panties down your leg, sitting them down on your pile of clothes — just as the door opened, making you jump, covering your chest. “oh im sorry I thought you’d be laying down already.” He said. “its okay.” You said. “I was just finishing up.”

“well you can lay down now and we can start.” He dimmed the lights. “I can light candles if you want.” You smiled, nodding. “thank you.” You laid down, your boobs hitting the cold leather, making you hiss at the sensation. “you okay?” felix finished lightning the last candle. “y-yes im fine.” You felt your face heat up that he heard that noise. “okay we can get started now.”

You rested your head on your arms; you felt a warm liquid hit your back, making you flinch. “is it too hot?” you shook your head. “just shocked me a little.” You heard him chuckle. “don’t be scared, its just eucalyptus and peppermint oil.” He explained, you felt him rubbing it along your back, you sighed at his touch. “it helps with inflammation and pain.”

The boy in the front was right; he was a godsend with his hands, it’s like he knew you like the back of his hand, hitting all the right places, your body slowly began to relax. “you seem so tense, do you work a lot?” he asked. You hummed. “its not good to work like that, too much stress can cause a lot of knots and that causes pain.” He pressed down on one spot that made your eyes shoot open; a low whimper coming out of your mouth.

“oh , im sorry.” You cursed at yourself, embarrassed at how it just slipped out. “that’s good, it means I’m doing a good job.” He said. “don’t be embarrassed.” He said in a low soft tone, his deep voice sending a wave of arousal in your gut. “let out all the noises you want.”

His hands moved to your side, rubbing them gently; making his way up to the side of your boobs. “is this okay?” you hummed, pretty sure at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept talking to you like that.

His hands rubbed the sides of your bust gently, you bit your lip to contain any noises that tried to force their way out. “you don’t have to hide them.” He said. “I want to hear them.” You couldn’t for the life of you wrap your head around why this stranger has such an effect on you; but you didn’t stop the next noise that came out of your mouth. “fu-fuck.”

He worked down your back, right above your ass, where the towel covered, pressing down. “its seems really tense here.” He pressed down harder, you whimpered. He worked down to your legs, pushing the towel to sit right above your thighs. He poured some more warm oil on your legs, rubbing your calves, making his way up to your thighs — dangerously close to your bare bottom.

Felix never would’ve done this with another client; he would’ve stopped right at your back — but he couldn’t help it, you were making so much noise and he had to admit; it was turning him on, a lot — and he wanted to see how far he could go.

His hands were entering dangerous territory as he rubbed the in of your thighs, you could feel the heat of his fingers on your cunt, he could easily touch it if he wanted — and you really wanted him to.

It’s like he read your mind cause his next words made your heart race. “if you want me to touch you, you have to say something.” He said. “I wont do anything you don’t want me to.” He said. “i-I want you to.” You said breathlessly. “then turn around.”

You turned on your back, his hands work all the back up to your boobs, gently cupping them; you let out a soft moan. “let me hear you.” He pinched your bud, your back arched up; giving him the leeway to undo the towel, your bare cunt for him to see — thank god you shaved. “so pretty.” His hands travel down to your pussy, lightly touching it. “pl-please.”

“you want me to touch you?” you nodding. “ye-yes.” He smiled, his hand spreading your legs; fingers grazing your clit. “good you used your words.” He rubbed your clit, spreading your folds. “such a pretty cunt.” He whispered. “so soft.” He pushed a finger inside of you. “so wet.” He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling the to hit that gummy spot inside of you. “you gonna cum, I can feel you clenching.” He used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “you can cum.”

And just like that you were on his finger, moaning out loud. “so loud.” he sat on the massage table in front of your breathless naked body. “I want to hear more.” He kissed your neck, climbing on top of your body to leave little kisses down the valley of your breath, taking a nipple into his mouth as he sat on his knees in between your legs, his hard cock evident as he pressed it against your cunt.

“sh-shit.” You moaned as he grinding his hips against you, sucking on your nipples. “pl-please fuck me.” That was all he needed, before he undid his pants freeing his hard cock. “you sure you want to do this?” he said. “im a stranger and — I want this, please.” You needed this, you needed him to fuck you. “please fuck me.”

He pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” He slowly worked himself in and out of you. “you need to relax, you’re so tense I can barely -fuck- I can barely move inside of you.” You whined as he used the pad of his thumb to rub your bud. “that’s it.” He sighed. “open up for me.”

He moved his hips fluidity, his cock hitting all the spots your vibrator just didn’t. “fe-felix.” His name flowing right out of your mouth as he worked his way in and out of you. “fe-feels so good.” He moved faster, you felt your orgasm approaching. “im gonna cum.” Your voice was shaky as your clenched tightly around him.

“fuck me too.” He grunted, he moving faster. “felix im cumming.” You gasped, the knot in your stomach snapping as you came. “shit you’re too tight.” He moaned, his orgasm approaching quickly. “shit.” He pulled out as fast as he could, cumming all over your cunt. “fuck.”

“one more.” He said, his face near your cunt. “I want to give you one more.” He licked your folds, the taste of your cunt and his cum on his tongue was dizzying. “fu-fuck.” You were feeling overstimulated at the point, but you still felt your third orgasm approaching fast. “oh fuck.” You gasped. “fuck im gonna cum!” thinking he was gonna move away, but he didn’t he stayed there drinking up all you have to offer. “fe-felix.” You had to push his head away to keep him from going on.

He pulled away, wiping his mouth; your body was fully relaxed by now; the service time was probably long over. “shit my boss is gonna kill me.” He quickly redressed himself, helping you get dressed. “that sounded harsh, I really liked it.” He said, you laughed, pulling your shirt down. “I understand, my friend has probably called me a thousand times.” You pulled out your phone, and believe it or not there were no phone calls from her, but two text messages.

(friends name)🩷| I told you you’d like him…

(friends name)🩷| have fun girl, I’ll wait in the car😉

Your face burned with embarrassment. “I would like to see you again.” He said. “me-me?” he nodded. “yes, if that’s okay.” You nodded. “I would love to see you again.” He smiled, as you gave him your number. “lets see each other soon.” He nodded. “is the weekend coming up okay?” he wanted to see you as soon as he could — he needed to. “We can get dinner and maybe see a movie.” He moved closer to you, caging you against the bed a smirk on his face.

“and I can give you a even better happy ending than today, only if you’re good though.”

©️LUVYENI

[bridenore]

HD Party Games fic recs

Here are a few drarry fic recs in which party games play an important part. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Back to You by @aibidil & daisymondays [8k]

The eighth years make Harry and Malfoy go head to head and back to back in a question-and-answer drinking game. The worst that can happen is they end up drunk, right?

Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [39k]

Post-war Hogwarts has been energized by its new teaching fellows program. Where once bitter enmity divided the wizarding community, Malfoy and Potter chummily patrol hallways together whilst Granger and Zabini seek lost parts of the castle at McGonagall’s behest and Chang supervises Quidditch when not lecturing in Charms. It’s a veritable wizarding utopia and life is predictable for the first time in years. Which is, of course, when everything blows apart as the result of a drunken dare and Malfoy’s life is ruined beyond his capacity to repair it. Ever. In a million years.

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks [7k]

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

Erase the Shame by FleetofShippyShips [6k]

An Inter-House unity party is the last thing Draco wants to go to. It's not long into a game of Truth or Dare when he is reminded why. But maybe his dare is worth it after all.

Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]

Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already? This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.

Games Night by @agentmoppet​ [6k]

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much... tension?

How to Handle an Enemy by who_la_hoop [7k]

Everyone knows that it’s no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate… Turnbout Is Fair Play by who_la_hoop [10k]   After a – cough – revealing game of truth or dare instigated by  his fellow Slytherins, Draco Malfoy finds himself in possession of a).  the interesting knowledge that a certain Gryffindor horror may not be as   immune to his personal charms as hitherto suspected and b). the   password to the Gryffindor Tower. But Draco makes a fundamental error   when he decides to make use of these facts.

Love, Harry by Zzzara [26k]

Harry Potter keeps a huge secret: that scary thing he can’t tell anyone about. Until a mysterious penfriend changes his life, because he keeps a secret, too.

Never Have I Ever Thought That You Might Want Me, Too by @drarrymyheart [8k]

“When it’s his turn, Ron gives Harry an ominous look. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss any of the boys in this room.” Harry freezes. Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Hannah, Pansy, and even Blaise are all immediately lifting their drinks. Malfoy moves to pick his up as well and Harry tracks the movement as if watching in slow-motion…The ridge of Malfoy’s bottle of cider pushes against his lower lip as he takes a sip. Harry nearly groans. Steeling himself, Harry drinks.” Harry and the crew take a ski trip. Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes and thoughts off a certain blonde.

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore [41k]

Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers. 

A Perfectly Valid Dare by kitty_fic [5k]

“It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says. “I am not doing that,” Draco insists. He really has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare?

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k] 

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

Silk Scarves and Enchanted Handcuffs by TommyLane [28k]

It was only supposed to be for seven minutes and then the blindfold would come off and he'd be free from the dark cupboard and his mystery partner - only Harry was no longer sure he wanted it to end.

Starts With a Spin by Maxine [119k]

It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.

Truths, Dares, and Love Affairs by @ronbinary [17k]

NEWTs are approaching, Mind Healing is mandatory, and something is wrong with the castle. And then, there’s Potter.

When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara [31k]

When a hero defeats a villain, there’s supposed to be a happily-ever-after… but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there’s more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes.

where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands [146k]

It’s the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now? His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum. As they keep running into each other, Harry sees that Malfoy is different, and he wonders if he can be someone else, too. Featuring rumpled band shirts, poker games everyone hates, fumbling sex, and a Harry going a little mental over how wands even work.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[shubblelive]

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic. 

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive. 

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy. 

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets). 

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes. 

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts. 

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk. 

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months. 

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to. 

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

[l1vchuu]

resentment. part three

!! warnings: slight mentions of sh, angst, slow burn, strong language.

And Simon stood there, in silence. The slight yellow rays of the rising sun filled the now empty room- well, half empty. The walls- before filled with your favorite music artists and films, your bed- once piled with your fluffy little animals from Ikea and sheets- once warm and packed with your scent. Now everything was empty and dull- just like the way he had treated you the past few months.

His mind went blank- was he hallucinating? Were you there?

He looked around again, his gaze had sharpened. Did you request to have your own room? Where the hell were you? Why didn't you tell him?

Ghost closed the door behind him, making his way to Price's office- maybe he will tell him.

As the elevator closed its' doors behind him, he strode to the Captain's door, knocking three times before entering.

"Good morning, L.T."

"Good morning, Captain."

Price looked at the sight in front of him- a tall, masked, tired man. He knew what he was going to ask him- and he knew damn well how to answer.

Simon stood there, quite hesitant to ask the thing he had been thinking of- actually, he hadn't prepared the question at all- so the silence filled the room again until Price spoke up.

"She took a break- you will have your own room for a while."

A break? Ghost thought to himself.

"How long?"

Price took a sip from his coffee.

"A month. For now."

A month? A week or two- fine- but a month?

"Is there a particular reason-"

"No reason included."

Price turned to face him.

You and Ghost made quite the pair ever since they introduced him to you. You were always his sparring partner, and so was he. He only ate food if you were around, and so did you. You only accepted a mission only if he was there, and so did he.

After years of being friends and colleagues, you two became inseparable- which meant that absolutely everyone on the team knew that something was wrong. And only one person was to blame, right?

The Captain sighed, nodding his head slightly- a habit of his.

"You don't know, do you?"

Simon's head perked up.

"Know what?"

"She fainted yesterday. She was on the bed for a long time- and she basically looked like a corpse."

Price put his mug down.

"Look, Riley. I'm not the one to get into this mess- but I'm sure the others won't tell you, so I will. The nurse wrote that she fainted out of exhaustion- but that won't explain the cuts and bruises on her body, right? Did you even notice her change in behavior?"

Simon gulped.

"No, I didn't."

"You didn't notice anything? Nothing?"

"No."

Price massaged his temples.

"Our job is to make sure that our soldiers are in good shape and health, Riley. And she is one of our best."

Simon sighed. His mind was blank. Truly. Blank.

"I know, Captain. I've been on night shifts a lot and-"

"We all know what the real reason is, Lieutenant. Drop the excuses."

Price interrupted him, his tone was stricter now.

"Again, what I was saying was- You can't keep doing this. We can't let this team break the trust we have built for years. If one person goes down, so do the others. Understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"I don't know what happened, and it is not my place to do so. I'm saying this as a regular person- try to fix whatever the fuck is going on."

Simon stayed still and silent. His eyes looked tired, but his gaze was strong.

Price sighed again, motioning him to the door.

"This is not a good thing, son. You have a month to figure it out."

As Simon stepped to the door, Price followed behind him.

"And you better pray she won't fucking quit in the meantime."

These were the last words Price had said before Simon left the office.

-

You arrived at the airport, a place you hadn't seen in a long time. You didn't notify anybody of your arrival because you needed to be alone- you wanted to be alone.

You took a ride to your college apartment, glad that it is still for rent. As the taxi passed through the streets, the trees danced to the wind and the sunlight flew through the air. It was about 8 am and the shops were just opening their doors to the public.

The taxi stopped in front of the apartment complex. You paid the driver and got your things to your old apartment without any worries.

You finally had time- time to think everything through and manage your feelings, time to heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, it was the first time you paid any attention to your appearance and you barely recognized it. Your eyes were swollen and empty, your skin was pale and dry, your arms were scratched up- a habit you had when you felt nervous, and your thighs had bandaids.

You had forgotten about it- you hoped you never remembered it. A few weeks ago you almost began an argument with Ghost, but it just ended up with you staying alone in the bathroom, your tactical knife in your hands, and a whole lot of tears and physical pain. You never resolved problems this way, never. Self-inflicted wounds are something you hadn't done to yourself ever since high- school. So you thought about it- Why did I react like that?

You cleaned and stitched up your wounds after you had showered- your skin was hot and soft from the boiling water. It was quite frankly the first time you had taken such a long shower- but it helped you calm down.

Laid in your bed, bags scattered all over the place, you looked at the ceiling and thought about the upcoming month. What were you going to do? Well, you had money from your last paycheck- so you didn't need to worry about that, you need to do something to get you out of your mind, just like the old high school times. What did you do in order to forget about everything? Oh yeah, you joined the military.

There were many other things you could do- maybe go to see a therapist. No, not a good idea. Why? What will I say to them, I don't know what I'm feeling. We'll figure that out.

Jokes aside, you genuinely didn't know how you felt. What was it that bothered you? Why did you feel like that? Absolutely. no. fucking idea.

You hated everything around you, about you, including you. You felt like crawling out of your skin and existing without being perceived as a living person. You felt like a piece of flesh, slowly rotting into the ground, hoping for the bugs to come and consume you whole. You wish to be buried deep into the earth's core, maybe the warmth will be enough to comfort you. You prayed that one day people would walk through you as if you never existed. You prayed that one day people would say your name and not have you in their minds. You didn't want to exist.

But on the other hand, you wanted people to think about you and notice you. You wanted to be taken care of, to be perceived as a human with feelings. You wanted to be held and have sweet things whispered into your ear. You wanted people to smile as you passed by, people to remember little details about you. You wanted people to think about you when you weren't around.

Everything was so confusing to you at the moment. You stared at your empty phone, looking at all of the names of people who you used to talk to before. You weren't allowed any contact with your teammates if you were away- no calls, no messages, no emails. The only way they could possibly make any contact with you is through letters. Will someone write to me? you thought to yourself. Yeah, you said to Price that you didn't want him to notify anyone of your leave- but surely someone would've noticed by now, right? Will someone notice my absence?

But you were away. You were away from the base, away from all of the oils and gunpowder, away from the ink and the papers, away from the tablets and computers, away from the stingy coffee and oatmeal, away from the ripstop and the uniforms, away from the steel and guns. Away from everything.

The first thing that you could try to fix was your eating habits. You barely ate a meal a day for a month and your body was begging for it. But it wasn't going to be easy, of course. You still couldn't bring yourself to have any type of appetite. You still felt the salty taste of your tears on your tongue, and you could feel shivers down your spine. Maybe you could go grocery shopping? Maybe that could help.

You lazily stepped out of your bed, put on casual clothes, and headed out the door with nothing in mind- you'll figure it out.

-

It was a normal day at the base. Everyone was doing their daily routines and their assigned work, training, or planning any new missions. It was the quiet season- there wasn't anything crazy going on, which meant that the atmosphere was lighter than usual. It was everybody's favorite time of the year, except Christmas or Halloween.

Simon was sitting in his shared office, his desk being next to Kyle's. It wasn't a normal day for him though, his mind wandered all around you.

Ghost has suffered through most of his life, given the fact that all of his family was murdered because of him, and he has been imprisoned and tortured by a Mexican cartel. In papers, he is often marked as dead and he constantly wears a mask in order to protect his identity and uses it to cope with his traumas. He often has nightmares and hallucinations, which you used to help him with- would it be staying all night talking or maybe distracting yourselves with movies. He has a long history of disorders, which was the reason why you and he got so close. You coped together, you brought comfort to each other. He was the first person on the team that you got comfortable enough with to share your past, and so did he. It wasn't pity that brought you guys together- it was genuine coping and the need to get better, you healed together.

And there he sat, knowing the fact that he had possibly ruined all the progress you had made.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

Heya! This part was short, for which I apologize- it's supposed to be more of a 'filler', in order to get the emotions flowing in. But don't worry, part 4 will come shortly after, with more action and sadness! (just kidding, or..?) If you liked this part, make sure to like or reblog <: See you next time, lovelies <33

[soapymansuds]

OKOKOK, I just saw a Reel that gave me this idea and it’s rotting me from the inside out so I’m giving this to you. You’re welcome ig?

Tags!!!! SWF, Ghost, Soap,Price, Gaz, Male Reader, Motorcyclist Reader, The circus??, Use of Y/N, He/Him pronouns, Spelling errors, Grammar errors, was written in the middle of the night, Author is still getting used to Tumblr formatting please be gentle with him, OOC

It had been a long few months. Between missions, paperwork, and training, the team barely had time to rest. So seeing as the latest pile of papers was dissipating and nothing particularly interesting seemed to be happening, Captain had an idea.

“You’re kidding, right?” Ghost chides from his seat in the commons with a disapproving tilt of his head.

“No, no I am not. We’re going to the circus.” Price grins, arms wide as if attempting to force the boys to accept the idea. “C’mon, we’ve been working so hard, we deserve a quick break, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. Nothing takes your mind off things like overpriced beer and overly fried foods.”

“Well I for one, m’excited! I havnae been to the circus since I was a tot.” Soap claps, standing to join his captain in rousing the troops. His first order being to clap Gaz on the shoulder in encouragement. He shakes his head with a chuckle but stands with them anyway sighing, “Hell, why not.”

They all stare expectantly at Ghost, who pinches the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head before standing up with a groan. “Fine.”

“Alright.” Price claps his hands in front of himself. “Let’s get going then.” He grins, squeezing Ghost’s shoulder appreciatively.

~time skip~

As they finish parking and piling out of the Jeep, Gaz takes a moment to acknowledge the obvious. “More of an arena than a tent, dontcha think?”

“More airflow I s’pose.” Soap shrugs, slinging an arm over Ghost’s shoulder as they find the entrance.

Once inside, the stench of grease and children floods their noses, but Gaz seems to be the only one fazed, with a gentle shake of his head as if he could shoo the smell away.

“Right, well I’m off to find the booze. Have fun lads.” Price grins, tipping his hat as he wanders off. Gaz is next as he spots the rows of carnival games, walking off silently towards the sharp shooter game.

“So what catches your eye L.T.?” Soap nudges Ghost, who seems uninterested in anything really. He shrugs as they keep walking, searching for something to stare at until he’s allowed to leave. The hum of a motor catches his attention as they near a crowd circled around a fence. The closer they get, the more they can see. A ramp, a hoop, a big metal ball, and a motorcycle. But to their surprise, the motorcycle seems to be driving itself, nearly hitting the ground and it spins in circles on its side. The bike is pearly white, prismatic reflections dancing in the sunlight as it moves.

“Oh! A trick rider! Always wanted to be one when I was young.” Soap pulls Ghost closer to the rail to get a better view. As they approach, they notice the rider. A man a bit shorter than the two, fully covered in red and black leather gear with a matte black helmet. His visor is golden and stretches oddly to his chin unlike a normal helmet. ( https://images.app.goo.gl/UKZg4c2wA4JpYGkt9 for reference)

He raises his arms at the applause, and despite not seeing his face, you can tell he’s smiling. Suddenly, the bike changes course, bumping off a ramp and steadying itself upright. It points straight at the rider and keeps moving like it’s going to hit him. He doesn’t seem to notice and the crowd erupts, desperate to warn him of the danger. As they start screaming, he looks over his shoulder, and within inches of his life, he grabs the bike by the handles. He bounces into the air, standing upside down above the handles. The crowd cheers louder still as he spins the bike around, and falls beautifully into the seat. He skids to a stop mere inches from the boundary. Mere inches from where Soap and Ghost stand. Soap’s grin, wide and dopey, seems to draw him in.

He takes a moment to size them up before nodding, seemingly to himself, and waving them in. Beckoning them past the border and towards himself as he turns the bike back towards the center of the ring. They stand for a moment, unsure what to do before he nods his head inward once more and they hop the steel rail.

He takes a moment as they enter to hype the crowd for their arrival as if they were planning to be their from the beginning. He then leases them to the huge metal ball, swerving in front of them to drop the ramp and ride in. They stand outside the dome, but Soap’s smile never falters. Even as the rider waves them into the sphere.

As they get in, the rider drops his kickstand and hops off the bike, both to close the door and to talk to his new “assistants”

He lifts his visor just barely as he turns back to them. “Alrighty boys! Welcome to the Doom Dome!” He raises his arms and the crowd follows with avid cheering. “There are a couple of rules, and most of them are Do. Not. Move. Got it?” He grins and it’s just barely noticeable under his visor.

“Sir, yes Sir.” Soap laughs with a goofy salute. Ghost simply nods. The rider tilts his head at him with a floppy smirk, trying to decide if he’s unamused or just the quiet type.

“Words, Big Boy. I gotta know you’re hearing me.” He extends a hand, an attempt at breaking the tension. “I’m Y/N. And you are…?”

Ghost seems vaguely taken aback by the statement, but shakes his hand on instinct, mumbling out “Ghost.”

“Ghost!” The rider calls at the crowd and the scream in excitement. “Anddd…?” He reaches for the other man’s hand, who takes it, grinning like an idiot. “Call me Johnny.”

“Johnny!” The crowd roars again. “Alright boys, I need you back to back. Can I put my hands on yah for a sec?” He hold his arms up just barely before both men nod at him. “What did I say about using your words?” He juts his hip dramatically, crossing his arms with a giggle. Both men respond “Yes sir.” quicker than even they had expected.

“Atta boys!” He grins, placing a hand on both of their chests and maneuvering them to be back to back. Once he’s satisfied with their position, he swing a leg back over his bike. “Now don’t move. Kay?” He gives them a thumbs up, which they return, and he slaps his visor down. He swings his arms up to instigate the crowd, successfully causing them to starts screaming. Ghost notices for a moment that the crowd has nearly doubled since they left it, and he finds himself grateful to be in here not out there. But the though doesn’t last long as a tire is suddenly directly in his view. It spins wildly for a moment before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. He feels the wind as the bike loops around him, adrenaline playing with his nerves just slightly. He can feel the excitement radiating off Soap in waves, and as he turns over his shoulder, he’s sees the exact wide eyed slack jawed look he was expecting. Soaps eyes trace the biker’s every move like a dog following a treat and Ghost can’t help but chuckle. As he turns back to facing forward, he flinched back just barely, as a hand reaches off the bikes handle and reaches down to tap his nose lightly as he passes. He follows the hand as it reaches out for Soap, ruffling his Mohawk as he circles.

His hand lifts back up to the bike as he begins looping vertically. The motor roars in both their ears as the bike does loop after gravity defying loop and Ghost can feel himself grin at the dizzying sensation of it all.

As the bike slows down, eventually stopping in the same place it started, the crowd goes wild. He drops the kick stand again and opens the door of the dome, waving for Ghost and Johnny to follow him. They do as instructed and he leads them to halfway between the crowd and the dome. As he stops, he fidgets with the underside of his helmet before sliding it off completely.

Soap can’t help but stare at him, hair tussled from the helmet, smile stretched ear to ear as he takes both their hands in each of his and raises them to the crowd. As if declaring them victorious. They defeated the Doom Dome. The crowd continues to scream as he lowers both their arms and steps forward to thank them. Soap looks ver the smaller man to Ghost, who shares an understanding look. This guy was down right pretty and neither one knew what to do about it. But as the crowd dies down and wanders off, he turns back to them, grin as wide as ever.

“Y’all did great!” He laughs, picking up his helmet. “You ever done that before?” I tilts his head curiously and the boys can’t help but think he looks like a puppy. All dopey grinned and doe eyed.

Soap answers first. “Na, we’ve never been in a Doom Done before, but it’s been my dream since I was a wee tyke! Wanted to be jus like you when I grew up.” He laughs, ruffling his hair a touch.

“Woah! Y’all ain’t from around here, are yah? Is that Scottish I’m hearing?” His eyes grow impossibly bigger.

This time, Ghost speaks. “Yeah, we’re just visiting.” And Y/N’s head tilts towards him.

“Oh! Well it was real nice of y’all to stop by our little circus!” His eyes close appreciatively. “Hey, I tell you what. You boys seem nice. And you said you wanted to be a rider when you were a kid, yeah? Here. Have my number, in case y’all ever wanna learn to ride! I got a couple o’ old practice bikes in storage. I’m sure they’d be happy see some use!” He pats himself down a moment, before pulling out a pair of business cards and holding them out to each of them.

Soap takes it gladly, and while Ghost is vaguely more apprehensive, he takes it anyway was Soap beams at the card. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that!”

“Please do! I’ve got to skedaddle, but it was real nice meeting you boys! Come back any time, Kay?” He waves as he wanders back to his bike and walks it out of the arena.

~I don’t know how to end this, so this is it. Xoxo, K.O.~

[heronposting]

I’ve been working on an Oppenheimer x femme reader fic with the premise: what would it be like working on the Manhattan project as a physics postdoc? I figured I’d post the first draft here. More chapters to come.

Chapter 1

The Desert at Night

It’s late and you’re in his office, going over pages of coffee-stained carbon copies of calculations together.

“Was it this one? No…maybe this…no…” Dr. Oppenheimer mutters, leafing through the pages in frustration.

“I don’t think it’s in this pile,” you say, exhausted. “We should take a break and find it in the morning.”

“I’ll forget by morning,” he sighs under his breath, pinching the skin between his eyes.

The stress clearly weighs on him, not helped by the fact that he’s been chain smoking and drinking coffee for hours. You worry about him.

“What if I write down exactly what we’re looking for, and I’ll remind you in the morning?” you offer.

It’s far past quitting time — ten at night you observe, checking your watch — you’re hungry for dinner, and you have a headache. But you must bear these conditions to work with Oppie and to continue your shared task, which demands long hours and arduous work.

By this point in the project, you know his habits well enough that you feel the need to keep an eye on him. You make sure he eats once in a while and, most importantly, that he gets enough sleep. Your beloved doctor is unraveling little by little. You start gathering your things to leave but Dr. Oppenheimer stays put, stubbornly staring at the calculations on his desk.

“Come on, isn’t it about time to get home to Kitty?” you ask playfully.

His face falls a little.

“I have a feeling she doesn’t want to see me. I’m going to stay here for the night,” he admits, not making eye contact with you.

You have no idea how to respond. Are he and Kitty fighting? You want to say something to comfort him but nothing comes readily to mind. Instead you just look at him, his hand gripping the edge of the desk, eyes firmly downcast.

You’ve been infatuated with Dr. Oppenheimer ever since he hand-picked you for the project. A few months ago he traveled across the country just to recruit you — out of hundreds of postdoctoral physics trainees, no less — on a recommendation from your principal investigator. And even during that first impression there was an undeniable spark between you two. Obviously you were, and are, enamored with him. Who could resist that trim figure, those deft hands, those intelligent eyes shining in his handsome face. Maybe he’s merely impressed by your graduate work, but you can tell that Dr. Oppenheimer likes you too. Maybe that’s why he felt comfortable enough to mention his argument with Kitty in front of you.

“I’m sorry for mentioning it…” you trail off, feeling awkward.

He waves his hand to dismiss your apology.

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,” he reassures you, rubbing his temple.

“But you can’t sleep in your office, there’s nowhere to lie down,” you protest, brazenly following this train of thought to its destination. “Why don’t you stay at my place?”

Dr. Oppenheimer raises his eyebrows at you.

“On the couch, just for tonight,” you quickly hedge.

“Well…” he says, yawning, considering his options. “I guess there’s no harm in it.”

Internally, you cheer. You both don your coats and finally leave Dr. Oppenheimer’s office for the night. The cold desert air feels refreshing on your faces after being cooped up inside all day. After sunset, the little town rapidly cools and bathes itself in moonlight, turning the landscape into all different shades of indigo. You and Dr. Oppenheimer fall into a comfortable silence as you lead the way to your house, walking with your hands buried in your pockets to keep warm.

Once you make it away from the compound and onto the small residential road, you wonder with a pang of anxiety if anyone is watching you walking together. Towards your house, at night, no less! The rumors would be nasty. You peer at the windows as you pass the rows of identical houses that were hastily built for the project. But no one is looking back.

“Here we are,” you say, unlocking your front door and letting Dr. Oppenheimer in.

You’re internally grateful that you cleaned your house over the weekend. Even so, you scan the area for anything that might be embarrassing for him to see.

“Please make yourself at home,” you say to cut the tension.

“Thank you, [YN],” he says, quite inscrutably.

Dr. Oppenheimer can be hard to read sometimes. You nearly wish he would act sadder, giving you an excuse to comfort him. But more urgently, you’re starving, having not eaten since lunch.

“I’ll make us something to eat,” you tell him as he wearily sits on the couch, then closes his eyes and massages his temples.

You’re disappointed by the contents of the pantry: peanut butter, bread, canned beans, and canned peas. You decide to make two generous peanut butter sandwiches.

“Sorry, I need to restock the pantry so this is dinner,” you say, handing him a sandwich and a glass of water.

“Honestly, I love peanut butter sandwiches,” he replies earnestly, making you both laugh.

You sit next to him on the couch, enjoying your sandwich, when you suddenly remember you need to write down the notes and equations from your earlier discussion. You jump up, startling Dr. Oppenheimer.

“Sorry! I’m getting a paper and pen for the notes. I’ll forget otherwise,” you exclaim as you get your briefcase.

You sit back down, sandwich in one hand and pen in the other, writing the notes on your knee.

“Oh yes, thank you for remembering,” says Dr. Oppenheimer. “That constant should be squared,” he corrects, “and then you divide by — yes. Good girl, you knew what I was about to say.”

Your cheeks grow warm at that comment but you hope he doesn’t notice. You continue working on the notes, acutely aware of how little space there is between you. His thigh touches yours as he points to one of the mathematical expressions. You wonder if Dr. Oppenheimer feels your proximity the way you feel his. Finally, you finish the notes and stash them in your briefcase.

“Listen, [YN], I really appreciate you letting me stay over,” Dr. Oppenheimer says.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” you reply. “It certainly beats sleeping in your desk chair.”

“It certainly does,” he agrees.

You make up the couch for him with a pillow and blanket.

“How can I make you more comfortable?” you ask, wanting to make sure he is taken care of.

You wish he would answer, “I would be more comfortable sleeping next to you in your bed, and while you’re at it can you give me a massage and a kiss and hold me in your arms?”

Instead he politely says, “I’m fine, thank you. Goodnight.”

You retire to your room and stare at the door after closing it, madly in love with him. You want to scream into your pillow, but instead you silently scream at the door and scribble a few sentences onto a piece of paper, then crumple it up and throw it onto the floor where it makes a pitifully quiet sound. Then, you’re ready to change into your nightgown and go to sleep.

[oddygaul]

brand anti-synergy, 1 Year Anniversary

Wow, I’ve been doing this for a whole year now. Why not take a moment to be retrospective about it?

Keeping this journal has certainly accomplished its primary goal, which was to better remember the media I’ve engaged with and how I felt about it. If I didn’t have this blog and asked myself what I was watching / reading exactly a year ago, my answer would probably be “No idea!”; now, I can just scroll back through the archive and remember exactly what was going on and how it made me feel. Given the ever-increasing speed with which life seems to pass me by as I age, it’s nice to have little strategies like this that anchor moments in time, that help me remember how much time has really passed and all the things I’ve done.

Of course, it doesn’t work out in a conversational sense – I can’t exactly call a timeout and re-read my journal to refresh my memory mid-conversation – but even so, the increased time I now spend reflecting on the art I engage with solidifies my thoughts on a work better in my long-term memory, I think.

Although, suppose I should be doing this for more personal matters, too, and not just art? Hm.

I’ve definitely been more and less successful in keeping up with writing, depending on the month, although I think it’s safe to say my frequency has been trending upward for a while now. Plus, those peaks and valleys, in their own way, help chart the course of my life at those times. Like, yeah, I didn’t write a lot in the months after my dad died; no shit. I absorbed myself in tracking an album instead.

I’ve written some things I’m proud of, surprisingly. When I set out, the idea was that this was purely a journal, with no particular consideration toward readability. From the start, I knew I didn’t want these to be typical reviews, because reviews spend time introducing the subject to the viewer to give context, and I don’t have much interest in spending that time. These are for me, and for any little freaks that are so waist-deep in whatever the topic is that they’re diving through tags deep enough to find it. So, by design, the blog is inherently unapproachable.

Despite that, I still have a few posts that I think are solid, standalone pieces of writing, and a few more that I consider genuinely good analyses of particular works, even if they are likely impenetrable to someone unfamiliar with the work… and I think that’s enough for me. Some of them are certainly banal and worthless, but you know what? That’s fine. Sometimes I finish something and I don’t have anything profound to say, don’t have any interesting takes, don’t have any deep thoughts or self-reflection knocked loose from my brain while I was watching or reading… but I still want to remember if I liked it or not. And I think the willingness to record those insipid reactions anyway is healthy. Who knows – maybe it’s a baby step towards fixing my unhealthy relationship with perfectionism and creativity in general.

The longer it’s been, the more time I spend (read: too much time) taking screenshots and choosing images to put in the posts. On one hand, I genuinely do think this helps with memory – a picture’s worth a thousand words, after all, and seeing a scene or moment that meant something to me instantly recalls the work to mind in a way reading a summary does not. But also? I like pretty pictures, and I’d rather the blog be filled with them than not.

My biggest concern, a year in, is that I’m subconsciously compelled to actually read less, watch less, play less, because I have this shadow hanging over me in the form of unfinished blog posts piling up in a backlog. A similar kind of stress affects a lot of my creative output, generally, so I’m trying to be wary of letting that mindset affect things that are supposed to be for, y’know, unwinding, de-stressing, or experiencing joy. I don’t… think it is, though, too much? I’ve never really been one to binge things anyway, and even when I do, I absolutely do not retain any of it even a month later, so if anything I’m okay with correcting that behavior in lieu of more intentional consumption.

Time will tell.

Anyway, not that many people follow this intentionally, but thanks to anyone that reads my ramblings. The first time I got a classic tumblr reblog, with responses as full run-on sentences in the tags, I felt like I’d really made it in this world.

[practically-an-x-man]

Jasper & Kyle for “shh, it’s okay. i’ll carry you up.” if you please? :)

Oooh, good one! This definitely feels like a Kyle and Jasper prompt :D

____ Sprained

Word Count: 1.7k Content Warnings: mentions of hospitals and injury, not severe

____

He'd gone down in the second bout. There were only six minutes left in the entire match, and the Brawlers were up by a whole eight points, and as long as they could hold onto that lead they had the whole game in the bag. He'd been proud of himself, too. He was moving fast, the rumble of his skates so loud it reminded him of a jet taking off, and he'd been responsible for half of their impressive lead.

And then he dipped a hair too low on the straightaway, and his skate caught the edge of the rink - just that little seam where the slant met the floor, hardly anything more than some really rotten luck - and Jasper took a rather spectacular fall.

He'd gotten his skate off before his ankle could swell inside it, though he knew just from a glance that it was sprained at least. Every motion sent shooting pain up and down his leg. The chain of swears that left his mouth, half pain and half frustration at being benched for the foreseeable future, was downright legendary.

The daggerlike shriek of a whistle tore through the air just a moment later, freezing the bout in its tracks. Falls happened all the time. Bumps and bruises weren't worth stopping the match. But when Jasper didn't get back up to his feet right away, things became a little more serious.

"Hey, what happened? You okay?" Adrianna asked, dropping to her knees and sliding up to Jasper's side to take a look at the wound. Jasper shifted, then grimaced as the motion sent fresh bolts of pain up his leg.

"Twisted it on the edge of the rink. Sprained or broken." he answered through gritted teeth, "Gonna need ice packs and an X-ray."

"Trip to the emergency room it is," she decided, briskly undoing her own skates and tossing them aside. She reached for Jasper's remaining skate and added it to the pile, then hopped up to her feet and offered him her arm for support.

"Jazz!" The sound of Kyle's voice made his head snapped up, and Jasper twisted around to see him clambering straight over the railing that divided the rink from the viewing area.

"Hey, you can't-" someone protested, and a stray hand almost caught Kyle's shirt in an effort to pull him back. They missed by an inch.

"That's his boyfriend, it's fine!" Rita, another of Jasper's teammates, shouted back as Kyle dropped into the rink. His sneakers squeaked on the lacquered floor, but he was by Jasper's side in an instant. Despite the growing agony in his ankle, a bit of his tension eased just at that. It was easy to feel safe with Kyle.

"Hey, you alright?" he said, setting one hand on Jasper's shoulder and leaning over to look at his continually-swelling ankle, "Ooh, ouch, that's not fun. We gotta get you to a hospital."

"Yeah," Jasper agreed, forcing himself to take in a deeper breath. If it was any benefit, he didn't feel nauseous, which took the odds of it being truly broken down a few percent. A sprain still wasn't fun, but at least it didn't mean two months in a medical boot.

"D'you wanna stay and watch the rest of the bout?" Kyle asked, sparing a glance at the other skaters. Jasper shook his head.

"Sorry, but-"

"Don't be sorry." Adrianna cut him off, "Go get that checked out."

Jasper nodded, though the motion was tight with pain. He set a hand on Kyle's shoulder, the other on Adrianna's, and used the two of them to get up to his feet. Kyle's arm snuck around his waist, keeping him steady with barely a thought.

The pain easily doubled once he was on his feet, and he muttered a chain of swears through gritted teeth. One of the little-known rules of roller derby: swearing only counted as foul play if it was directed at another player. He could cuss himself blue in the face, injury or not, and the referees wouldn't bat an eye.

With Kyle on his left and Adrianna on his right, he was able to hobble out to the parking lot and slide into the passenger seat of his car.

"Text me when you get home," Adrianna instructed, wearing a mask of concern even as she shifted on her sock-clad feet. Jasper nodded.

"Text me if we win." he fired back (entirely forgetting that his phone was still secured in his locker), "And go kick their asses."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

That got a bit of a laugh out of him, and Adrianna grinned as she walked away. Jasper pulled his door shut and fastened his seatbelt as Kyle slid into the driver's seat- and laughed as his partner whacked his knees on the underside of the dashboard.

"Fuck. Why do you have to be so short, Jazz?"

"Genetics." he deadpanned, "Who knows, they might chop my foot off and make me even shorter. Do you know how to get to the hospital?"

" 'Course I do, you work there."

"Ugh, c'mon, don't go to that one," Jasper huffed, "I'll never hear the end of it. Go to Touro."

"Touro's shit, and East is closer." Kyle responded, twisting around to back the car out of its parking space. He didn't drive much anymore, not since he'd been brought back - he'd gotten his coordination back, now a year and a half after the accident, but he still didn't quite trust himself to navigate the chaos of New Orleans traffic. That, and he didn't want to risk being pulled over.

Jasper almost found it sweet that his health made the exception.

The ER was packed. And it wasn't like working there helped him jump the line - as always, it was emergencies first, and it wasn't as if he'd keel over if his ankle went unwrapped for another ten minutes. But ten minutes quickly became an hour. Then two.

It was approaching midnight when he was finally called back. The pain in his ankle had dulled to a low throb, and he'd been dozing on Kyle's shoulder when he was finally nudged awake. The sick sludge of emotions coating the emergency room was somehow easier to manage when he was pressed so close to Kyle's sunshine.

If it was any consolation to the long wait, the actual diagnosis was fairly efficient. If it weren't for the X-ray (confirming that it was sprained, not broken), Jasper could have done it all from home. His ankle was wrapped, he was given a chemical ice pack and a mild painkiller, and he and Kyle were sent on their way.

One part painkiller and one part exhaustion, he dozed on the car ride back to the apartment too. He was woken only by his car door being pulled open, the shift causing his head to dip and Kyle to swear under his breath. Jasper let out a sleepy hum, squinting under the harsh streetlights that bathed the car. Moving clumsily, he managed to get his seatbelt unlocked, and tried to slide out of his seat. He winced when the motion sent fresh pain jolting up his leg.

"Hey, Jazz, I've got you." Kyle assured him, and Jasper felt strong arms slide around him. There was a part of him - a very distant, quiet part - that felt almost embarrassed about all of this. He felt like a child, pretending to sleep so he'd be carried to bed. Not that that trick had ever worked on his mother.

But Kyle was safe. It was an anthem he'd touted almost since the day they'd met, and even through all the hard times that came after. Kyle was safe. There'd never once be judgement or mockery or anything other than care, not since the beginning.

Kyle pulled him into a bridal carry, secure in his arms, and knocked the door closed with his hip. Jasper shifted again, thinking of all the keys and doors that stood in their way- and three flights of stairs. Kyle was strong, but-

"Ssh, it's okay," Kyle murmured, readjusting his grip to keep Jasper in his arms, "I'll carry you up."

"Mm. You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. It's alright, baby."

So he let himself relax back against Kyle's chest, and basked in the warm golden comfort that radiated off of him like the sunrise. It was all too easy to fall asleep when he had that surrounding him.

He found himself stirring again, a few minutes later - Kyle was gently running a makeup wipe over his face, swiping away the sweat and smeared face paint. Jasper wouldn't have minded a shower, with his skin crawling with sweat and grime from the bout, but he didn't have the energy to deal with that right now (even if he didn't have to balance on his unsprained foot in the process). It would have to wait for the morning.

Kyle helped him out of his jersey, and into a shirt that was a bit too large and smelled like his cologne. Jasper found himself burrowing into the garment, even as a faint frown crossed his face.

"Left all my stuff..." he found himself mumbling, another half-asleep thought drifting close enough to grab, "At the rink. My phone. N' my jacket. My shoes."

"I'll swing by tomorrow morning," Kyle promised, softly lifting his injured foot to set a pillow underneath it. From the back of his mind, Jasper was glad so much of his medical knowledge seemed to have rubbed off on him. "Just get some sleep, babe."

"C'mere." Jasper insisted, patting the mattress beside him. A soft smile crossed Kyle's face, accompanied by a rush of warm pink from his chest, and he climbed into bed beside his partner.

Jasper slid over, about as much as he could manage with his foot propped up, and let out a contented sigh as he settled against Kyle's body. Kyle turned his head, his lips whispering lightly across Jasper's temple.

He was asleep in moments. There was nowhere safer.

[some-little-infamy]

Honesty Has Its Benefits

(read on AO3) (Inspired by a plothook from @daniwib) 

It happens by accident. It’s such a simple moment, one no more dangerous than they’ve been in a dozen times before, and one much less dangerous than both of them have faced before.

The fire explodes outward, breaking the glass of every window, and splintering the wood of every door not already burning. Buck, the last one inside, gets thrown several feet by the blast, landing in a heap on a pile of rubble. He closes his eyes for a second, only to snap them open when he hears his name.

“Buck?! BUCK!”

It’s Eddie.

Buck forces himself to his feet, stance shaky, so Eddie won’t worry as much.

“I’m fine,” Buck manages, voice breaking with the effort of those two words. “Let’s get back to Cap and-”

Except just as Buck goes to walk back with Eddie toward the others Eddie stops him, grabbing his wrist and pulling Buck back around to face him.

“Stop. Almost. Dying.” Buck isn't sure if it's meant to sound like an order, but Eddie’s words come out as a desperate plea.

They make and hold eye contact for a few seconds too long, and there’s no denying exactly what the charged energy between them is and what it could mean. It isn't new, but it feels different this time.

It feels like it could be more than just wishful thinking.

“Make me,” Buck says. It's a challenge, but with it comes a promise: that if Eddie does make him, he'll listen.

Eddie does.

Eddie kisses him, short but intense, knowing that at any moment concerned members of the team will be rounding that corner after Eddie.

And just like that, everything Buck hoped and hinted at and prayed for, was real.

---

They don't tell the team at first.

Buck wonders if it's obvious, but a part of him realizes that he barely acts any differently at the station because these aren't new feelings, they're just newly admitted. In actuality, he looks at Eddie with the same endearing fondness he has for months now.

Still, things are different between them now on a fundamental level and they want to make sure that will last before they make any sweeping declarations about it to the rest of the team.

They wait two months.

Two months of Buck going back to Eddie's place more often than his own. Two months of more frequent radio check-ins in the field when they aren't in the others' line of sight. Two months of Buck switching shifts last minute to watch Christopher when Eddie's sitter bails last minute. Two months of stealing kisses and sneaking lingering touches when no one is looking.

When they tell the team they're met with soft smiles and exaggerated surprise that Buck's positive is for his and Eddie's benefit. Still, it's appreciated that even if they were suspected no one tried to force their hand until they were ready.

"Thanks, guys. I knew we could count on you to be cool about it," Buck says.

"Don't thank me for that yet," Chimney warns. "Wait until I have time to plan the 'thank God we don't have to keep pretending we didn't see you grab Eddie's ass last month' party."

"I told you someone would see that, " Eddie hisses, not quite under his breath.

"You didn't exactly pick the most subtle guy to date, Diaz," Hen points out.

Buck glances uncertainly over at Eddie, but the nerves aren't needed. Eddie, despite some mild embarrassment, is smiling.

The only person not smiling is Bobby, a fact that doesn't escape Buck's notice. Bobby is quiet and reserved, leaving while the rest of them chat and laugh without a single word to Buck or Eddie.

Buck exchanges a worried glance with Eddie, but even Bobby's silence can't put a total damper on the elated mood of the room that Buck is quick to return to.

Whatever Bobby's problem is, he can deal with it later. For now, he basks in Eddie's arm around his waist for the first time in front of their overly supportive friends, unable to imagine anything that could ever bring him down again.

---

It's a feeling that doesn't last long, because when he shows up for work the following day the mood in the air is tense. One glance through the window of Bobby's office shows him the reason: Captain Mehta and Chief Williams sit at his desk.

That's never a good sign.

Bobby must have been looking out for him because a second later he’s at the door and motioning for Buck to come over.

“What did you do, Buckley?” Chimney asks.

“Beats me,” Buck says, and for someone who is relatively certain he shouldn’t be in trouble he sure feels like a rock just landed in his stomach.

“Ah, good timing, Eddie. you too,” Bobby calls out, looking over Buck’s shoulder. Buck turns around to see Eddie coming up behind him, eyebrow raised. Buck shrugs and reaches his hand back for Eddie to take and gives a comforting squeeze.

"What's up, Cap?" Buck asks as causality as he can.

"Captain Mehta and Chief Williams are here to conduct an internal review to determine if the two of you can remain employed by the same firehouse," Bobby explains.

"What?!" Buck sputters. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Buck-" Eddie attempts to step in with calm reassurance.

"This is… this is discrimination!" Buck continues anyway.

"Before you go and start another lawsuit," Chief Williams says. "Maybe wait to hear us out?"

Buck winces and falls silent.

"We aren't here because of any complaints, which is a great start," she continues. "But we need to determine if the two of you remaining here together would compromise the team as a whole. "

Buck doesn't get it. This team is his family. It's Eddie's family. How could their dating have any impact on that if no one complained?

"They're worried we might focus too much on each other," Eddie says as if reading his mind. "Prioritize saving each other over someone closer, or who needs attention more."

Eddie's words are tense. He sounds frustrated but resigned, like he's more annoyed he didn't consider this before now. Buck knows the feeling… not that he would've done anything differently. It's fine. They're going to be fine.

"Exactly," Captain Mehta says, sounding relieved that they're all on the same page now. "It's to be expected. Who wouldn't want to save the person they love over anyone else?"

Buck makes sure to avoid eye contact with Eddie at that, because for everything they've discussed, everything they're so certain of, they haven't said The Word yet.

Captain Mehta chimes in to lay out the plan.

"We're going to ask the two of you to take the day so we can conduct interviews with your team without any undue influence from the two of you, and look over reports from the last… two months, did you say you were together?"

Buck nods, but his attention turns to Bobby.

“You knew,” he accuses. This is why Bobby was so somber yesterday. “You knew and you didn’t say anything.”

"Don’t be too mad at him, it’s protocol,” Captain Mehta says. ” Just to see if there are any patterns of bias or preferential treatment," he finishes.

"Why don't you just watch us now?" Buck asks, figuring following on a call or two would have to be easier than sifting through hours of reports.

"Because now you'd know we're looking, " Chief Williams points out. "You'd act differently. "

Buck tries to think back to recent calls, wondering if there's anything he did during them that might royally screw them over now. Not that it matters - what's done is done, but still… if he can think of something and try to get ahead of it, or just explain…

He's been in his head long enough to miss whatever was said next, but judging by the way Eddie starts moving toward the door it was probably a dismissal.

"It's fine, Buck. We'll handle it, whatever happens. We're going to be fine," Eddie promises him on their way out. Buck does his best to trust him, though he's heard Eddie use that line to appease Christopher one-too-many times for it to be truly reassuring.

---

The day off is torture. Buck should be able to enjoy the extra time with Eddie but all he can think about is how much he wants to text the others and see how the interviews are going.

"Buck, relax. I can see you overthinking from here," Eddie says, frowning over at him from across the little outdoor Cafe table they're sitting at.

"Sorry," Buck says, physically shaking his head to try and mentally shake himself out of the small spiral he's in. "How are you not freaking out?"

"Because our friends support us and we're damn good at our jobs," Eddie says simply. And he has a point - they are, and that should be enough.

The rest of the team says the same when they return to work the next day. Buck continues to overthink every move - when Eddie and Chimney pair off to go into a building Buck only radios Chim. He barely acknowledges Eddie all day, and there's an uncomfortable weight over the entire team because of it. The dynamic is off and he hates it, but he's afraid one wrong move will be the reason he or Eddie will have to leave.

They're told it would probably take a week or two, but Captain Mehta and Chief Williams are back the following morning.

That can't be good.

"Please, take a seat," Captain Mehta says, motioning to the chair next to where Eddie was already sitting.

"Wait," Buck says. "Don't we get a chance to speak for ourselves first?!"

"Buck, I don't think that's necessary-" Bobby starts, but stops when Chief Williams holds up a hand.

"No, go on. I'm curious what he has to say."

Buck braces, reminding himself that this isn't just his life on the line but Eddie's, too.

"I don't know what you read, or heard, but I swear to you that this entire team is my family. They're our family. And we would never put any of them or any member of the public at risk just because of our relationship. Eddie would dump me so fast if I let anyone die to save him instead."

Eddie huffs out a light laugh. "You're not wrong."

"And this isn't new. The label is, sure, but I've-" Buck's sentence drops off abruptly, but there's no other way for this to carry as much meaning as he needs it to. "I've loved Eddie for a lot longer than 2 months. And not once has it affected my judgment in the field."

"While we appreciate your honesty, Mr. Buckley-"

"And Eddie should be the one to stay," Buck blurts out.

"Buck-" Eddie protests immediately.

"Christopher needs the flexibility Cap can give him here. I know other firehouses won't be so understanding."

"Mr. Diaz will be staying, " Captain Mehta says.

For a moment Buck feels a strange warring of relief for Eddie and profound dread for himself, until the Captain continues.

"As will you, Mr. Buckley."

“What?” Buck ass, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“You’re both staying. Everyone on your team said the exact same thing - that they trust you with their lives. We looked through a few of the more recent reports and any time you two went out together it was strictly professional, and every judgment call was by the books. We’re normally a little more thorough, but when Captain Nash called to inform us of whatever horrible tension overtook the lot of you yesterday we decided to end your suffering early and go with our guts on this one.”

“Then why did you let me say all that?!” Buck asks, the elation of knowing his job is safe suddenly morphing into mild mortification over everything that just left his mouth in front of his superiors.

Chief Williams shrugs, barely holding back a full smirk. “I thought it might be amusing. I was right.” She moves toward the door with Captain Mehta behind her. “And from the look on Mr. Diaz’s face during your little speech, I think the two of you need a few minutes.”

“I’ll show you out,” Bobby offers, giving Buck and Eddie both a wide smile.

The moment they’re alone Eddie rounds on Buck. “I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head.

“Sorry. It just came out, I-”

“I cannot believe you would say you loved me for the first time when I couldn’t say it back,” Eddie continues, wasting no time in closing the gap between them and kissing Buck, uncaring of who’s prying eyes may be watching.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, nearly breathless, when they finally pull apart. Buck is pretty sure he can hear clapping and a few cheers muffled by the glass but he can’t be bothered to look - he can’t bring himself to look at anything but Eddie.

“For what?” Buck asks.

“For putting Christopher first. For standing up for us. For being you,” Eddie lists off. “Take your pick.”

“All of the above?” Buck suggests, grinning.

Eddie kisses him again, and Buck can feel Eddie’s lips pulling up into a smile against his own.

“Maybe let other people talk first from now on, though?” Eddie suggests.

Buck places his arms on Eddie’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes with a smirk. “I don’t know, I’d say talking first is playing out pretty well for me this time around.”

[purposefully-lost]

Jack,

School is starting again soon. Its crazy to think that the whole summer is over already. I went on that camping trip I told you about. It was only for a night, because Steph and Claire weren't really interested in making it any longer and our parents agreed we shouldn't be out by ourselves for so long anyway. I don't know, I think we'd have been fine for another night. The day we went home, there was this rain storm in the late afternoon, and I'm sure the woods would've looked real nice in the aftermath of it. You know, when the sky is kind of gray, but everything else is a little more vibrant?

I did still get some cool pictures though! I'm sending a couple to you. I flipped over this log at our campsite and found it crawling with beetles and stuff- I think the colors in the picture look so bright. I don't think I've identified everything that was under there, yet. I was hoping maybe you could.

I hope you're doing okay. The talk about you seems to have died down around here since school ended. Which is kind of a good thing, people were being really mean, but I don't know, it kind of makes me miss you, too. I don't want you to get left behind, or something. I'm a little worried about getting back into school, but I'll let you know how it goes.

Your friend,

Chris.

-----

Jack,

You'll never believe who I got as a chemistry teacher. It's Miller. He's still over the swim team, too, but it's a lot smaller than it was last year. I can see why you stuck with it if he was your coach, though, I really like him. He's been really lax about when we turn things in, which has been really nice. I know we're only a couple of months in, but I've been having trouble keeping up. They just keep piling more on top of us.

I actually spoke to him about you. I got pulled back after class because of a stupid fight- I'll tell you the details later- and you just kind of came up. He says he hasn't heard from or about you, either. Which I didn't really expect, but he did seem curious about how you were doing. He still seems sort of shocked about everything that happened.

I'm sending you a few more pictures. I haven't gotten back out to the trails, yet, but I've been taking a lot of walks past the park after school, and I've snapped a few photos of the birds there. My favorite is of the bluejay. Give it a look.

Oh! Do you remember that book I told you about, The Left Hand of Darkness? The author has this fantasy series, too. It starts with A Wizard of Earthsea. If you can, I think you should check it out. It makes me think a lot of you. I guess it's kind of more of a kid's book, but I still really like it.

I hope things haven't been too bad. I'll write again soon.

Your friend,

Chris.

-------

To whom it concerns,

Hi. My name is Christine Prescott, and I'm a junior at Greendale High School. I've addressed this to Jennifer Stanton, who I believe is a case worker for Jonathan Stone, but honestly, all that matters is that this reaches someone who knows him. It's very important. Jonathan was arrested almost eight months ago and, as I understand it, now resides in the city juvenile detention center. I've been trying to write him since then, but I don't know if he's been receiving my letters. I need you to tell me that he has. And if he hasn't, I need to know why.

I understand that his case and his trial were highly publicized and that, as a result, reaching him might be difficult. But he is my friend. I don't even really care if he writes back, I'm sure he's having a rough time, but I want to know that he at least knows that I've been trying to reach him.

Thank you for your time. Please write back. I have also provided a phone number.

Christine Prescott

[yung-terps]

A stream of consciousness. Not a new realization but I check in on distanced people more than they check in on me. I think I have come up with some ideas to play around with for a new poem! A little stoked because I haven't written one in awhile. Keep accidentally hanging out with dudes who ultimately just want to have sex. The benefit of the doubt hardly ever benefits me. There was one cool dude this past week, I guess. The thing is, when they skirt around their intentions, I kind of get off on getting them to just like. Voice it aloud. At some point during the night, I learn he is moving across the damn ass country soon and take note, considering I want something long-term. Later we start to makeout and it's fun, it's whatever. I like kissing. We break away after a little bit and I suggest that we walk to the corner store. He agrees, slipping in an "after". After what? Answer the question. And he eventually did. I want to fuck you. Surprise. He didn't even finger me. It was fine. See you never. My roommate is home from a 2-month thing. I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom... all of its nooks and crannies... I hope they feel welcomed! Still some stuff I want to hang and touch-up, all easily overlooked though. They are my secrets. Things just need to look lived in now. It's all too.... untouched... even though in actuality I spent the last few hours putting my hands all over everything. Arguably the most I have in a long time. Dusting and placing and rotating. You get it though... the living room needs to be hung out in.... broken in. I'm sure the suitcases have already made the place feel less... sterilized and proper... no longer like a set. The overhead lighting in the kitchen is harsh, always has been... often takes me out of reality! I have an idea to hang these paper pyramid-like string lights that I have had for years and years. Some are beat-up but I think it would add to the space... give us more options... and it just would be cute. Before my shower I removed the stain glass lightbulb, only leaving in two small red ones. Stood there, the water nice and hot. Sat on the tub floor. Closed my eyes. Leaned forward. Listened to the music I chose. Got out, screwed the loose bulb back in. I have an ongoing joke with myself that I will find my missing hard drive in a stupid silly fucking place, coping about it an entire year later. I noticed that I had some board games that were still taped shut from when I moved. Laughed with myself about the possibilities and opened them up. I am still holding out hope but no luck this time! I may knock on my old front door one day. I kind of resent the new owners for buying my home though. And how quick it all was. Like, get fucked, but also can I please have my hard drive? I mean, if it's in there. What I did find was a pile of half-used notepad sheets for a game that hasn't been played in forever. Some of them were drawn on by people I no longer speak to. One had a doodle done by my ex-boyfriend. It's weird to think about how I have lived, like, thirteen different lives. I think I would forgive a lot of people. Or even apologize to them. I also found two 8-in-1 retractable ballpoint pens. So, like, some treasure and a lot of thoughts. I did a little bit of glueing and taping and messing around in my journal. I feel I am doing okay in a very general sense. Trying my best and keeping up. I could do better. Can't we all though? Is that a cop-out? I don't care about money, I don't know, it's just practically all my parents would argue about in front of us. I don't care as long as my shit gets paid on time. But I think I have to shift gears and thought processes because I would like to live a little more comfortably, ultimately concerning myself with it less. Gonna look over my resume. Keep going, keep busy. Try to slim down my closet. Fix my camera. Maybe it did end up working on my last trip. Do this and that. Keep on playing Tears of the Kingdom and text dudes less. There's more passion involved with the former. Used used used. Wondering. Navigating. October is almost here.

[candy-floss-crazy]

Over the years I have owned some crap cars. I remember a little Nissan Cherry, it wasn't actually mine, my dad bought it as a second car, but it was that clapped out that my mam wouldn't travel in it, so I sort of got left to use it at will. It ended up being in a 6 car pile up near the Metro Centre in the North East, so that was that. Gradually over time, as business got better I ended up with a Jaguar X-type estate. I loved that car, but Ian, one of our event managers blew the engine up when I lent him it to go to London to see his girlfriend. Funnily enough he also blew the engine up in our mini camper van, and one of the London taxi cabs. Dream Car Over the years I always had a hankering for a Maserati Quattroporte. I think it is one of the most beautiful saloon cars ever made. The fact that it is a true four door 5 seater makes it an ideal family car, and the 440HP engine, limited slip diff and active suspension means it can hold its head up with many a performance car. Eventually my wife got sick of me nagging about wanting one, and I convinced her we could also hire it out as a wedding car, so eventually she gave in and we acquired a gun metal grey version with black and cream leather interior. It was the executive version, with massaging, heated, cooled rear seats that also reclined. A nice touch, but to be honest one I never took advantage of as I always drove. Maserati Quattroporte I owned that car for three years and loved it as much at the end of them as I did at the beginning. Now, my wife isn't one to swap a car in that is running OK, so imagine my surprise when she announced one day, "I think you should go and look for a new Maserati". I was worried she had suffered an unnoticed anurism or was having a breakdown but she seemed fine. Looking back I had just received my pilots licence, so I think now, it was me mentioning I fancied a share in a small Cessna aeroplane, that got her thinking once I swapped my car in, it was an excuse to put me off an aeroplane for a few years. Quattroporte 2 I ended up speccing the new model Quattroporte in Nero black with full black leather interior. It seemed a good idea at the time. The colour is absolutely fabulous, deep black, with large flecks of colour. When the sun hits it, it looks sublime. Unfortunately you would need to be cleaning it 24/7 to keep it looking that way. I have spent hours washing and polishing it to a gleam. Withing 30 seconds of hitting the road it looks like its been neglected for months. For anyone thinking of buying their dream car all I can say is do it. Mine is totally impractical. I have had it as low as 3 m.p.g. on twisty roads with my foot down. Heck it will pass anything on the road except a fuel station. Things like tyres and consumables are an arm and a leg. And last about half as long as any other car I have owned. It is so big it doesn't fit in parking bays. My wife hates it. But I don't care, once I get in, fire it up and push the sports mode button, the engine roars. Sounding like a symphony of angels, floor the accelerator and it pushes you back in your seat, and all is right with the world. Maserati Quattroporte Wiki Read the full article

[morphids]

break up with your boyfriend, ellie williams

pairing: bestfriend!ellie x afab, curly haired,bi!reader (college au)

wc: one shot (8k words whoops my finger slipped got my asd diagnosis today lol ig that explains that) proofread but if there's errors idk what to tell u

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ so minors dni, subish!ellie, loserlesbian ellie, poc friendly!! drug mentions, marijuana usage, friends to lovers, angst?? ellie gets her coochie ate, so does reader, fingering, ✂️✂️, all that good stuff, they worship each other, cheating (not by reader but sus behaviours n thoughts) (tw::: men bf’s a dickspawn imsorry) homophobia.

summary: you have a horrible boyfriend, ellie’s always hated him. 

a/n: full word vomit im sorry if its ass but also i kinda lost my composure writing this 🤭🫣😵‍💫

AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!

**

You were tired, drained. Hours had passed and you and your boyfriend were still at it. Angry words and misunderstood sentences all throughout the day had resulted in yet another fight between you.

"Dean, I've said it so many times, I can't go through it again,"

Dean, your boyfriend of a few months had a rocky track record, from keeping in close contact with his ex, to not telling interested girls that he's not single. The situation was always the same, you'd express your discomfort with something and he'd get angry, defensive. Then, eventually after so much arguing would get you to 'realise' that it's no big deal, that you shouldn't have reacted that way at all and in fact, you should apologise to him for making him feel like a cheater.

You had considered breaking up with him, so many times, in fact. Yet, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it, still holding out with hope that things will improve.

"Baby, I swear nothing is going on, she's just my friend."

"Fine, okay." You ceased, feeling mentally drained by hours of conflict, "I have to go, need to meet Ellie, we have that test soon."

"You're leaving?" Dean said, clearly still agitated and pumping from the fight,

"Yes, Dean," you sighed, glancing in the mirror to double-check that your makeup hadn't been ruined from the previous crying, "I told you, this exam is really important," In other words, you have more things to be worrying about than your issues with him.

Gathering your books and piling them into your tote bag, you felt Dean's eyes on you, silently steaming as he saw you pick up your books.

"I'll see you later," Without looking back, you grabbed your keys from the side of the door and headed out.

He always had a problem with Ellie, which you couldn't understand, she was always supportive and kind to you. What reason would he have to dislike her?

You had been friends ever since that first physics class three years ago, you had sat in the row in front of her, over fifteen minutes into the lecture had passed until you felt a tap at your shoulder. Turning, you were greeted with green eyes and a smiling face adorned with light freckles.

"Hey, you got a spare pen?" She looked bashful, almost embarrassed that she hadn't been prepared even for the first class of the year. A half smile was placed on her lips. Amused, you gladly handed her a pen, pleased that you had an abundance of pens neglected at the bottom of your tote bag. You were always prepared, just not the most organised.

At the end of the lecture, she tried to hand you back the pen, but you refused and insisted she kept it, was she planning on asking someone for every class she had? That was just inefficient.

When you wouldn't accept the pen back, she ripped out a rough square from a page of her notebook, scribbling her number quickly so she could pay you back for the pen. 

You had been friends ever since, there was something that just worked. She had been there long before Dean and you would be damned if he was to get in the way of your friendship.

You had reached Dina and Ellie's place, they both shared the accommodation whilst you lived in a one-bed en-suite in a dorm. Dean lived at his fraternity, which you always hated going to meaning you spent most of the time at your place instead. 

Knocking, you only waited for a few seconds until the door swung open, revealing Ellie, clad in a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. The open door had caused a draught to haze through the air, the faint scent of smoke and music softly playing at a low volume.

"Hey, you." She spoke, smiling that usual smile that was seemingly tattooed on her lips. Ellie moved out of the doorway to let you in, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the familiar, comforting living room.

"Hey," your tone must have not been well received, as it prompted a,

"Well, what's gotten into you?"

"I've had the worst day, Dean-" you were interrupted by a slightly exaggerated groan, with an added,

"What has he done this time?"

"Ellie.." you sighed, dropping your tote from your shoulder and to the floor, kneeling down to pull out your books and pens.

"I'm serious," she threw her hands up, leaning against the edge of the desk where her work had been all set out already, "He's always up to some bullshit."

Ellie was confused, annoyed actually as you explained the situation to her. In her head, as a lesbian, the solution to these kinds of issues was so, so obvious to her; break up with him, he's not worth it. She had repeated this rhetoric to many of her men-loving friends, all of which refused to listen to her only to turn out heartbroken in the end, anyway.

"I wasn't exactly being rational either," you tried to explain, not that you were making excuses for him, but you felt a certain need to defend your relationship with Ellie. She was always so judgemental of the people you dated. You knew deep down that it was her way of looking out for you, she had consistently been the one to bring you comfort during your relationship breakdowns. And there had been a few of them.

"Don't do that, that's exactly what he wants," She spoke sympathetically, her words very soft considering that, mentally she was currently fighting Dean, and winning.

What was wrong with these guys? Ellie thought, you had dated some specimens before, but this new fraternity bro, Dean? She couldn't stand him.

Seemingly fuelled by his returned distaste towards her, but she knew the real reason why.

He was a pig. Flirting with any girl that'd give him attention, Ellie had caught him at parties with drunk girls hanging off his arms, inches away from their faces, centimetres away from cheating. Only for him to charm his way out of it when you confronted him. It pained her to see you go through this, especially when there were so many options out there. Like her, for example.

To be frank, Ellie's asking for that pen three years ago hadn't been entirely innocent. Whilst, it wasn't a lie per se, as she did, in fact, not have a pen on her first day, making her feel like the worst student on the planet.

She had taken notice of you when you first walked into that physics class. Eyeliner, framing the outer corners of your eyes and tight curly hair that lay perfectly around your face caught her attention. You were so beautiful, she knew she had to talk to you.

As you two had gotten to know each other over those first few months, her little crush had evolved from simple attraction to a full-blown, 'would rip the sun out of the sky if it meant seeing you smile', feelings situation. Whilst her initial intention had been to try and flirt a little bit, over time (really didn't take that long) Ellie realised that you were something special. The bond and groove you had as platonic friends was too great to risk ruining it all. So she decided, her feelings shouldn't be the thing to damage it. Ellie being Ellie, didn't know how to deal with said feelings, so she had made a pact with herself to never act on them, never expect anything other than platonic behaviour on your part, and never, ever let you find out. So whilst you dated, so did she.

"Anyways, can we talk about, literally anything else now? Like our exam that we have in a few days, perhaps?" You hummed, kicking your shoes off and sprawling on her couch, reaching down into your bag for something you had saved for this exact moment.

"Right, 'cos studying is the reason why you're laying dead on my couch right now." Ellie chuckled, joining you and holding your legs up to settle her body on the couch as well, before placing your legs on top of her lap.

"What are you even looking for?"

"Just wait, you'll see." You responded, still rooting through the bag, god where is it?

"Well, not if you can't find it in that damn bag, how do you even find anything in those?"

"Shut up," you chuckled, feeling better already. That's something you loved about Ellie, no matter what would happen to you, a few minutes with her and you'd feel like you had taken uppers.

"Ah, finally," you breathed out, fishing out a single joint that had become embarrassingly bent in the trauma that is, being an object lost inside the bottom of a tote bag.

Ellie laughed when her eyes caught sight of the bent joint, rubbing her eyes as they started to tear from the entertainment.

"You didn't have to go through that much effort to pull out that monster, plus you know I always have enough here, we don't need to smoke yours."

"It may look unfortunate, but this is the best shit in town right now." You tried to sell, "Got it from Xav,"

"Xav? How did you manage that?"

"One of Dean's frat brothers put in a huge order with him and sold me some, thought I'd save it so we could smoke it together." 

"You truly know the way to my heart," Ellie gushed, before leaning over your legs, to grab the closest ashtray and a lighter, passing it to you, roller's rights, after all.

"This doesn't look like studying, though," Ellie spoke, eyes falling to your lips as they wrapped over the end of the joint, sparking and taking a drag. She excused her thoughts.

"I just want some peace before I have to focus on work, you know?" You said, exhaling out the smoke.

Ellie sighed, knowing Dean was truly taking a toll on you, she watched as your face fell, obviously being reminded of the previous events. She wishes there was more she could do, how many times could she say leave him, before it sounded too obvious? Too pushy? Too out of line?

"Fuck him, don't worry about that for now. You're with me, this is a Dean-free zone." Ellie cheered, taking the lit joint as you passed it to her.

You felt her fingers trail random lines and shapes on your leg as she smoked, probably not even aware she was doing it. It was comfortable and set off a wave of sleepiness to hit you.

Ellie passed you the joint back,

"You going to that party tonight?" She asked,

"I don't know, I think Dean wants to go but I was planning on sitting this one out,"

"Why don't you come? Dina and Jesse will also be there, so you don't have to spend the whole party with him,"

"Fine, only because I haven't seen Dina and Jesse for a while,"

"I can live with that," she chuckled.

Deciding you were no longer comfy in that position, you lifted your legs up off Ellie, before manoeuvring your body so that you were sat side by side. Passing the joint back to her, you rested your head on her shoulder. What you didn't notice was Ellie's visible tensing the second you laid your head on her.

It wasn't like it was unusual behaviour from you, yet she reacted like this every time. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Fuck yeah, it's good," she swallowed, head turning to glance over at you resting your head comfortably on her shoulder, "You falling asleep down there?"

"No..." you mumbled, your voice visibly getting quieter as you were getting sleepier. You were just so tired. Constant arguing with Dean, working or studying. You needed a break, plus Ellie had a habit of being super comfortable to nap on.

"You sure?"

"No..."

"It's alright, have a nap, we’ll study later."

Ellie chuckled, she continued smoking the joint to its ends, relaxed by the sound of your breathing as you fell asleep. She took the opportunity to observe you for a minute, you looked peaceful, a hell of a lot more peaceful than you were when you first entered. She wished that you could always be that content, at peace. Ellie wanted you to be happy, whether with her or not, she just didn't want you so stressed and drained by yet another unhealthy relationship.  

It was then she took time to think, how messy the situation had truly become.

—

After your nap, you and Ellie actually did finally study, spending a few hours going over the course material and sharing notes. With a few distractions here and there, but successful nonetheless.

You were back at home, Dean seemingly long gone back to his own place, as you got yourself dressed for this party. Texting Ellie that you were ready, you awaited her knock on your door, as your place was a bit closer to the party you decided you'd make your way there together and you'd crash back at your house later.

Once she arrived, you two made your way to the party, it was in the next block of student accommodation, so it was only a quick walk.

Before long, you had reached the party, greeted by its loudness with thumping music and loud chatter.

"It's fucking packed," you complained, already nervous. The bass of the loud music echoing in your chest, exacerbating the anxiety you felt.  

"It will be okay, let's go find Dina and Jesse,"

It took a few glances to land on them but they had been settled in a corner with two other girls. One with short black hair and the other with long, blonde hair.

Making your way towards them, Dina spotted you and Ellie and eagerly waved you guys over to their spot.

"Bitch! Where have you been?" Dina questioned, and truly it had been an unreasonable amount of time since you'd seen her, which is weird considering how often you were at her and Ellie's place.

"Don't get me started," you sighed, whilst smiling at her and wrapping your arms around her.

"Well, it's good to see you, we missed you!" Gesturing towards herself and Jesse, who took his cue to also greet you.

Dina introduced you to her friends who were also sitting with them, the one with black hair was introduced as Cat, and the blonde was called Abby.

They were nice but you weren't too sure about the dark-haired one, she seemed a bit standoffish to you, only, but welcoming and friendly to everyone else in your group, and especially to Ellie. You noted it and placed the thought at the back of your head for dissection later.

In the ten minutes you had been there, Dean had spotted you and walked over. Causing an eye roll to come from Ellie,

"Hey, you're here!" He was drunk, words slurred and eyes heavily lidded. How much had he already had to drink?

Wrapping his arms around your waist, and nuzzling his face into your neck, the scent of alcohol lingered on him and you found that you didn't want him to be that close to you.

Your eyes met Ellie's briefly before she quickly looked away and took a long sip from her cup, which had been filled up with some vodka and whiskey mixed with some chaser by Dina. She turned her head away from you and began talking to Cat, faces a lot closer than most people. 

You tore your eyes away from their interaction, turning to face Dean.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, too incapacitated to care too much before making his way back to some of his frat brothers. Yuck.

You were making your way to the bathroom, hoping to find the right door, but you weren't successful the first time, the second or the third. You were starting to wonder how many goddamn rooms were in this place until you finally reached it, and it was of course labelled with a stupid little diy frat sticker that said 'bathroom' featuring other, more immature graffiti. Apt, you thought.

The light was on but the door was slightly ajar, thinking nothing of it you walked in believing it to be empty. The room was also, of course, occupied. You mentally laughed at your own bad luck as you saw Abby sneaking a cigarette out the window. Her body perched up on the windowsill as she breathed the smoke out the open gap.

"Shit- oh it's just you," she chuckled, holding her hand on her heart indicating that you had slightly frightened her, clearly from her doing something she isn't supposed to be doing.

"Sorry, thought it was empty," you said, turning your body towards the door in an effort to leave her to it,

"You don't have to leave I'm just smoking this before any of my team sees me,"

That brought a smile to reach your lips,

"Why are you sneaking cigarettes like a 16 year old?"

"Athletes aren't really meant to smoke, but shit happens. I just don't want to hear it from coach." She mumbled taking her final drag, throwing the butt out the window.

"I'll take it to my grave," You promised, making a little zip motion on your lips.

"All yours," she smiled, making her way out of the bathroom.

"I won't take long, we can head down to the group together,"

So you did, exiting the bathroom, Abby smiling at you,

"Let's go?"

"Sure,"

You had travelled down the stairs, engaging in random, friendly small talk until you had reached everyone. Abby sat back down next to Dina and Jesse, who were ranting amongst themselves, whilst Cat and Ellie had been left to their own devices. Now, you and Ellie had been friends for a while, you kinda knew what she looked like when she was flirting with girls. And this was definitely that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean respawning in your face again,

"Wanna explain that?"

That completely broke you out of your little trance, explain what?

"What?"

"Why were you in the bathroom with her?"

"She was-" you remembered your promise to her, "We were just chatting, nothing weird happened, if that's what you're thinking."

He grabbed your wrist and walked with you to a quieter corner of the room,

"Why are you lying?"

"Dean, nothing happened we were chatting because she was in there when I walked in,"

"Do you know what she is?"

"I just met her today, Dean," You didn't want to deal with this right now, Ellie had said she was going to try and help you escape Dean tonight and instead she got annoyed by his presence and began flirting with Cat.

"What is with you and hanging out with all of those d-...", he trailed off,

"Those what, Dean?" You were beyond angry at this point, you didn't like what he was implying.

"You know, all those le-"

"Hey," your altercation was interrupted, "Everything cool?" Ellie was looking between you both, eyebrows furrowed as she looked you over, gauging the situation. She knew you could fight your own battles, but when a drunk man is getting too handsy on someone it's always good practice to remain vigilant.

"We're fine." He said, his words less slurred now, a bit more pissed off. Egged on by the fact that his very point had just interrupted him.

"Oh yeah?" She pressed, making sure to look at you when she asked, having watched the interaction since he dragged you away.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you added, trying to give her a grateful look with your eyes, whether she got the message or not wasn't confirmed. Ellie wasn't one to let things go, but then she asked you if you wanted to be left alone with him and when you simply said 'Yeah I can deal with this," there was nothing more she could do without being too out of line. 

Sighing to herself, she dragged her feet back to the group, silently warring with herself over her actions, wondering if she put her nose in someone else's business or whether she didn't act enough. She had decided that was enough for the night, she'd try and focus on something else.

Whilst you were frustrated; you didn't want to explain the situation to her yet, at this point.

"Dean I don't like what you're trying to say, I don't want to be near you right now, we can talk about this at home."

"Sure, whatever." He walked off. You exhaled a sigh that had been festering in your chest for a while.

Wandering back to Dina, Jesse and Abby, noticing a considerable lack of Ellie and Cat. But at least you could clear your mind, Dina offered you another drink- which you gladly took.

You were in conversations with your friends, a good amount of minutes had passed and you finally caught sight of Ellie. You felt your heart twitch, your stomach churning at the sight.

Ellie was engaged in some heated make-out with that Cat, her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the girl's neck. The lights of the room bounced off her skin, illuminating them in deep reds and blues, as their lips moved against each other. It was hot, you couldn't lie. Perhaps the alcohol had hit you a lot more than you thought. You had seen Ellie in action, but not in action.

You felt yourself start to stare, lost in the sight of Ellie until you felt your breathing start to quicken and your legs fidgeting. You had to pull your eyes away, shaming yourself in your head for even looking that long, like a damned pervert.

Taking another sip of your drink, your thoughts trailed, you wondered what it would feel like to be in Cat's position, to feel Ellie's passionate grasp and soft lips against yours. You wondered if her kisses would feel loving and warm, not cold like you were used to.

You quickly dismissed your thoughts, blaming it on the alcohol, wondering what was spurring this on, all of a sudden.

You soon decided it was probably time to head home, the party had lived its course and you were in a worse mood than when you first got there. Mission failed, indeed.

Saying your goodbyes to Dina, Jesse and Abby you made your way through the dance floor to Ellie.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out," You interrupted a conversation occurring between Ellie and Cat.

"Oh, you sure?" She glanced between you and Cat, "Will you be okay getting home?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna find Dean and we're gonna go,"

"Oh," her face soured, "You're really still going home with that guy?"

"Well..." you stilled, you didn't exactly want to, but you knew he wouldn't give up until he got to say his piece, regardless of where you were, "We have stuff to talk about, I guess." Your voice and tone sound beaten, tired.

"I see," She glanced you over, hesitant, as if she was about to say something but then changed her mind. You could almost see thoughts flying in her eyes. 

"See you later," Cat smiled at you, though it didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes, no crease of skin. Everything seemed polite on the surface, but there were weird undertones in her voice, indifference. The vibe of that was definitely weird, right?

"Yeah,"

With that, you found Dean and left to go home.

—

Panting, you were panting. Heavy breaths mixed with sloppy touches in the darkness of red and blue lights.

You pulled away, glancing at Ellie, the corners of her plump lips curling into a smirk as she caressed your thighs. Fingers teasing near your entrance, you were completely ready for her touch, dripping, waiting.

"I can't wait to taste you, baby." she spoke, her words soft but with a hint of a growl that excited you, eager for what was about to come.

Then your eyes split open, and you were lay on your bed, hours had passed and you had been fast asleep. Sleep came easy, induced by the alcohol you had consumed, as you realised you had just been dreaming.

It took you a few seconds to stir and become conscious of what you had been dreaming about. Then the shame hit. What the fuck was that?

It didn't last long though, before you heard Dean's voice,

"That was hot,"

You slightly jumped at the surprise of his voice, not expecting him to have been awake and especially aware that you were having a dream of such nature, about your best friend of all people.

"You got me all hard, babe." You suddenly felt too overwhelmed, flashes of Ellie's lips and fingers cursed your mind as Dean's voice was mixed into your thoughts.

Confusion and panic hit your senses, you didn't want to look at Dean's expecting face when your mind was still reeling with the faint remnants of being under Ellie's warm and comforting touch, even in the astral plane, your body still warm and wanting. But not for him. Disgust overwhelmed your veins, poisoning the air in your lungs as you realised you couldn't think of anything worse than him touching you. It was as if that dream had been a message, a sign that this wasn't what you wanted. Or deserved. A sudden unexpected epiphany.

You quickly shot up and ran to the bathroom, no words spoken between you as you closed the door. Ensuring space between you both.

You sighed and grabbed at the roots of your hair, thinking of how utterly fucked this is.

You thought back to Ellie, would she be disgusted at your thoughts? Would she feel weird and uncomfortable if she knew you had been thinking of her that way? Her best, and very platonic, friend. She definitely isn't interested, you thought, remembering the way she had grabbed Cat closer to her and embraced her in a kiss that could only enflame your very being. Jealous. You realised, that's what that feeling was. It seemed to occur a lot regarding Ellie, that feeling.

Dean's voice blared through the door, reverberating through the walls.

"It's about that blond bitch isn't it?" Your eyebrows pulled together, fucks sake.

"Dean, please." It was stupid o'clock in the morning, the last thing you wanted was yet another argument.

"I knew those fucking lesbians would fuck with your head, you've always been a stupid woman, following whoever gives you attention."

His words hurt, and doubly pissed you off. How dare he? Those were your friends he was talking about.

You opened the door, Dean all blotchy and red in the face, fuelled by the past months of his bullshit and borderline abuse, this was the final nail. He was not about to say disgusting things and expect no repercussions. Lifting your hand, you put your entire back into connecting your palm with his cheek, made real by the smacking sound of skin, loud as a gunshot in the dark hours of the night contrasting the silence of no other surrounding sound in the dorms.

"Fuck you, Dean. I'm over this, get out." You stared him right in the eye as he rubbed the throbbing skin of his cheek to alleviate some pain. You couldn't help but feel a hint of relief that it had actually hurt him, as horrid as that sounds. You weren't a violent person, by any means, yet the continuous accusations, the newly exposed homophobia, his vile behaviour - it had to be done. You were done letting him treat you like that.

"I don't need you anyway, can find ten other girls that'd give me what I want."

"Go do that, then." You huffed, wondering why you hadn't done this earlier.

"Already have, sweetheart." He smirked, eyes glinting as he finally lifted the shroud of lies he had been filling your head with. You always knew deep down, you just chose to ignore it. Worms in the brain feasting at any rational thought and your self-respect. You didn't find it in yourself to get angrier.

"Get out of my house, Dean." You finalised, arms crossed over your chest, you just hoped he'd go willingly.

"You're not worth it, anyway." He cements, body turning to put on his shoes, chuckling as his heavy presence finally leaves your door.

You let out a breath, relief, shame and anger seeping into the deepest part of your being.

You were glad he's gone, truly. You just wish you had killed it sooner. Ellie was right, he ain't shit.

You sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly finding that the dark, empty space in your room was doing you no favours.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text to Ellie,

3.47 a.m:  you awake?

It was a long shot, you almost gave up on a response for tonight until you felt your phone buzz.

3.49 a.m:  ..always

3.49 a.m:  whats up?

Your lips tilted into a weak smile, before responding,

3.50 a.m:  u should be sleeping rn!

3.50 a.m:  umm so should u

3.51 a.m:  whats wrong?

Sighing, you had to bite the bullet, already started it now.

3.52 a.m:  he's an asshole, i broke up with him

A few minutes passed, and you wondered what was taking so long even though in the grand scheme of time it was only a few seconds, really. It was just anticipation, time felt dragged out awaiting her response. You didn't know that Ellie was laying on her bed feverishly typing, deleting and re-typing, overthinking how to respond. She wanted to say, 'I knew this' and how she was happy he was gone because he was a loser who didn't deserve you anyway. How she never liked him. Ellie didn't want to be insensitive, though, lest she hurt your feelings further. 

3.57 a.m: how are you feeling?

3.58 a.m:  im just glad he's gone tbh

3.58 a.m: had to be done

Ellie couldn't help the hint of a smile that fought its way onto her features, she typed her response. Picking at the dry skin around her thumb with her teeth as she sent her next message, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

3.59 a.m: he didn't deserve you anyway, you're too good for that.

You felt a warmth rush through you, stomach tightening as you read into her words. You wished that she meant it, that her feelings matched yours. Your mind thinks back to Cat, instantly murdering any hope in your heart.

You don't remember when your feelings for Ellie began to change, but looking back on it, you had felt so unsatisfied, seldom comfortable with your past lovers. Ellie was the only person who knew you, truly. Who had loved you and made you feel so safe, her comforting presence always soothing you, you felt like a person around Ellie. Whole. It had just taken some time for life to knock some sense into you to realise. It has always been Ellie. 

4.01 a.m: want me to come to you or you wanna come here?

4.01 a.m: it's so late you don't have to! i'll be ok promise

4.02 a.m: hah good one.. gimme ten mins

Ellie was not messing, not much time passed before she was knocking on the front door of your dorm. 

"Hey," Her voice was soft, gentle, her eyes shining with such a tender glint. She's always had such pretty eyes, you thought. 

"Hi,"

You moved a few steps to give her space to enter,

"How you doing?" She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tighter than you expected,

"Honestly, I'm okay," Ellie took a look at you, gauging your overall mood and believed it, you already looked lighter, less weight (*Dean) holding down your shoulders. 

"Think I mentally checked out a long time ago," you added, sitting down on your bed and lifting your laptop screen to load a show, acting somewhat as a buffer amongst the silence.

"So what happened?"

You couldn't help the audible groan that escaped your lips, "He got pissy when he saw me leaving the bathroom with Abby and accused me of cheating,"

"Abby?" Ellie had taken off her coat and shoes, joining you on your spot on the bed.

"Yeah, she was smoking in the bathroom hiding from their coach, we walked down to the group together, it was only small talk. I was so confused, he started saying things about who I was hanging out with,".

"Meaning?"

"He's a fucking homophobic prick,"

"He said hanging out with 'all those lesbians was fucking with my head', said I follow whoever gives me attention," you sighed, "then I slapped him."

Ellie couldn’t help it, she felt a swell of pride that you slapped him, stood up for yourself. He deserved so much worse, she thought.

Ellie couldn't hide the smirk that reached her lips, as much as she tried to suppress it, it still came.

"That's my girl,"

You didn't expect your stomach to twist when those words left her mouth, opening something up deep inside.

"He finally admitted to cheating, and then it was over," You sighed.

"I'm proud of you," Ellie muttered, fidgeting with her nail-beds, failing to meet your eyes.

"You don't have to say that, I know how pathetic this is,"

Resting your head on the headboard, you brought your legs into a cross,

"Hey, I mean it, it must've been a lot," She paused, her hand coming to rest on your knee, rubbing her thumb over the skin absentmindedly, like it was second nature to her. Perhaps, it was.

You looked over at her, eyes trailing down her features, freckles and the green eyes that still weren't meeting yours, suddenly shy.

"You're amazing, you deserve to know that," she paused, eyes finally meeting your own, determined.

"So are you," Your voice lowered, trailing back to the pretty brunette from earlier.

“So what’s going on with you and that girl?” You shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out before you could stop it. Clearly, your brain kept thinking about it.

“It’s..” Ellie thought about what to say, it would sound extremely horrible to say Cat was mainly a distraction, unfair as she is a lovely person, but it’s true.

“Nothing more than what you saw,”

Vague, was that best response to that, Ellie thought.

“I saw quite a bit,”

“Honestly, she’s great, we get along and all but..’ She’s not you. “I don’t think it’ll go any further.”

“She seemed to really like you, why not?”

Ellie almost wanted to laugh, it was so painfully obvious to her, how could you not see it?

“I guess.. I want something different.”

Her eyes connected with yours, the contact between your eyes felt different now, charged. You caught yourself stealing a glance at her lips, which slightly parted as she spotted where your eyes had fallen.

“Like what?”

She had no response, it was either avoid the question, or firm it. Ellie didn’t know which was the right answer.

"Ellie.." You paused, words caught in your throat, as scenarios rushed through your head like a rolodex of different possible outcomes. Heart tugging at your brain to do something, anything.

"Yeah?" Her head leaned closer to yours, your breathing slowly becoming heavier, the room's environment growing thicker, harder to inhale. Her hand still on your knee, unmoving now, frozen in place.

You could almost make contact with her lips, if you moved just a tiny inch closer. Her hand trailed slightly further up your leg, just a little above your knee, almost as if to test the waters. You wondered if she felt like you did, if she could also feel her veins light up and her body inflamed. Were her lips just as eager to touch yours? Were her hands longing to feel you just as well?

Before you realised, it was out.

"Ellie, can I kiss you?"

A beat, and no response. You felt your heart start to panic, already thinking over how to pretend that had never happened. You almost regretted it, until her hand reached for the back of your neck, reducing the distance between your faces.

Lips meeting yours, shyly at first, hesitant. Ellie’s mind was whirling, feeling her heartbeat pump aggressively throughout her body, there was no way this was reality, she thought. No way that you were here in front of her, asking to kiss her, after all this time of her yearning, feeling like a useless lesbian who would never ever make a move on you.

She could almost feel herself kicking her feet in the air, as she decided to firm it. Scared if she waited any longer, the opportunity would cease to exist, pass her by and join one of those regrets she’d think about as an elder.

Your lips met hers back, eager to push for contact, eager to push closer. Your zeal spurring hers on, as her hands clasped the back of your neck, keeping you in place. Not like you wanted to be anywhere else.

This was it. This is what you should’ve been feeling in the past.

Ellie’s soft, plump lips melted over yours, taunting with a bite and pulling your bottom lip out before entering her tongue into your mouth.

Fuck. That was hot.

You felt yourself getting hotter, damper by the minute as the kiss continues, Ellie’s hand getting more comfortable and trailing down to your thighs.

You pulled apart for a second, taking the time to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes, usually green but now much darker, enhanced by enlarged pupils as she glazed her sights over you. An unreadable expression on her face,

“Are you okay?”

“You’re so hot, and amazing and I-I really want to keep going, I just- I don’t know, I don’t want this to be like a .. rebound thing. I really care about you but I just, don’t want to feel like that, you know?” She rambled on, her thoughts getting ahead of themselves as she was pondering if it happened, then if it was too late to return to what you had been, before things got all naked and messy.

You understood, of course you did. You had literally broken up with him just maybe two hours ago. But it didn’t matter, you had to say it. Let her know and reassure her that it was only her.

“Ellie.. you could never be a rebound to me,” You stammered a little before the next part, “You’re the one I’ve wanted this whole time. It’s always been you.” You pecked her lips, grabbing her face, looking into her eyes hoping she’d see the seriousness in yours.

“I’ve wanted you for a really long time,” she broke contact, “I just didn’t wanna fuck shit up,”

“I mean it, Ellie, I’ve never felt as certain about something as I do this,”

Her stature relaxed, you continued, “I love you, Ellie. I didn’t love anyone else,”

“I love you,” she answered, the corner of her lip tilting up, eyes brighter.

“I’ll just have to show you how much, if that’s okay with you.”

Her gaze turned curious, before nodding, watching as your hands danced down her sides and ever so slightly underneath the fabric of her shirt.

“You can do whatever you want with me, honestly,” she murmured. You caught her body tensing, almost shaky as you lifted her shirt. Warm hands covering the sides of her defined stomach, you squeezed a little, just enough to rile her up.

Which it did, Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as she anticipated your next move. Losing control of her lungs, she was about to explode.

“This okay?” Your hand met the band of her sports bra, digging scarcely into her skin beneath it.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, stuck in place, watching, her cheeks becoming flushed, “Shit,”

You hands pressed over her breasts, tightening pressure around as she let out a content sigh. You dipped your head down to wrap your lips around her nipple, licking laps over the tip and softly blowing air over them when you decided you were done, chuckling to yourself at the goosebumps that now raised on her skin,

“Don’t tease,” She murmured, composure dwindling.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,”

You kissed down her stomach to her pelvis, feeling her restlessness grow as her body refused to stay still, itching for you to do more.

You leaned back up, placing either leg over her torso and looked her over, making sure she was okay as your hand moved lower down, seemingly in a mind of its own as it crept past the waistband, meeting her skin as you held eye contact.

Ellie folded, shutting her eyes as the waiting became too much, you tapped her leg with your free hand,

“Eyes on me,”

When she held your eye contact once again, you teased a finger past her folds, almost letting out a groan at how wet she was, at how easily you could feel her arousal.

“Fuck Els,” you sighed, struggling to contain yourself as your thoughts grew more indecent, slipping a finger in further as Ellie writhed underneath you, head hanging back.

“More fingers, please,” Her voice was strained, breathy as she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be feeling this undone already.

“Yeah?” The side of your mouth curled up, goaded by the sound of her voice. She nodded impishly, covering her eyes with her wrist, as her other hand reached to grip around your hip. A tight squeeze followed on your skin.

“I can do that, baby,” Following instructions, you slipped two more fingers into her, falling into a rhythm as you felt her clench around you. She glanced over your body, legs spread over her midsection as you leaned your arm back, hips gently grinding over hers- an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building up.

Her hand grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pulling it slightly and groaning when the tight material pushed against your breasts, she always loved how you never wore bras, stiff nipples poking through the fabric.

“Fuck, clothes off, now,” she let out in soft grunts, as she broke your wrist from her to take off your shirt, rubbing her hands over your newly exposed skin “Always fucking wanted to see you like this,” She spoke, your fingers meeting her centre again, “So fucking pretty,”

“You feel so good, Ellie,” You gasped, your hips involuntarily grinding on top of her stomach, “So fucking good ‘n wet for me,”

“Fuck-“ Ellie’s voice cut off as she bit into the back of her hand, her own hips rolling your hand in deeper, hitting her walls more than before as she let out a mewl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, angel,” she whimpered, voice strained as she continued to ride into your hand.

It was the hottest noise you’d ever heard, and you wanted to keep drawing it out of her. To keep hearing her moan for you, and your actions only.

Suddenly, you had something you prove, both to her and to yourself. Flashes of Cat in your mind as you wanted her to forget other women existed.

You unwrapped yourself off her lap, removing your fingers, kissing her stomach as you pulled her pants and underwear down, grabbing her legs and holding them open, exposing her even further.

“Damn,” you said, glancing over her wet inner thighs as they glistened, all for you.

“Shut up,” she spoke, voice tight as a side smile swept over her features, as she grabbed the back of your head, pushing you closer to her pulsing core, throbbing and dripping waiting for you to make contact.

You licked a line up her heat, moaning to yourself at the taste of her. You grew light-headed, thinking you could die happily just between Ellie’s legs, becoming addicted to her moans as you ate her out, head in a daze as she squeezed her thighs tight around your head, almost cutting off your air supply- her moans growing more frequent, as she reached closer. Your free hand moving up to wrap itself around her breast, squeezing tighter around her nipple.

Deciding to have a little more fun, you slipped two fingers into her wetness as you continued to lap your tongue around her clit, pushing up into her as you sucked. Dragging her delicious sap on your tongue as it marred all over your face, cheeks glassy with her warm sleek.

Ellie had lost control over her vocal cords at this point, moans slipping out from between her sweet lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Hell, you were moaning too, despite not even being touched yet, dripping all over yourself, ass up and needy as you rolled your hips over thin air as you continued to soak yourself into Ellie.

There could be no coming back from this, you thought, not now that you had been exposed to the delicacy that is Ellie Williams. You were holding on to her and not letting go.

You felt Ellie’s moans get shorter, cutting themselves off from its full power before the next one came, her hips moving more haphazardly up to meet your tongue, she was close.

You glanced at her, her eyes closed, brows pinched up and mouth agape, a slight sheen to her skin from sweat, she’s so attractive, you thought.

With your free hand, your fingers guided themselves onto your own folds, rolling over your own clit for some release, the lack of hand on her caused Ellie’s eyes to lull over at you, the sight of your arched back, wet cheeks from her slick, spread legs as you touched yourself all whilst still fucking her into oblivion.

The damned sight of you, just as undone as Ellie, without her even touching you, was enough to cause the coil in her abdomen to twist, before she came all over your face, breath slowing into heavy pants as her body twitched. You lapped her up her residue, finally removing your face from between her legs as she looked at you. Wordless.

“Wh-what the fuck..” Ellie’s weak voice trailed, before laughing and forcing a kiss on your lips, hands wrapped around your jaw as she tasted the remnants of herself on you.

There was no way you were about to give her the best orgasm of her life and expect her to not do anything back? Funny joke. Ellie was ravenous now.

She placed you underneath her, biting around your thighs before bending her head down, her tongue having been desperate for a taste since that first day she saw you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Your legs tightened around her as the air from her voice hit your centre, “Been dyin’ for a taste,” You looked at her, tip of your eyebrows raised up as you took in her words, how long had she wanted you back? Her words caused you to shudder, whimpering as she continued.

“Fuck,” You said, voice breaking as her tongue rippled over your pussy as your hips shook, slurping up the honey that had been left neglected. Long, slender fingers meeting your centre that had felt so, so desperate and needy for her to touch.

“G’na show what you’ve been missing,” She hummed, as her fingers picked up pace working harmoniously with her tongue as she fucked into you. Warm muscle rolling over your pulsing clit. Fingers rubbing over your velvet walls which sucked her further in, skin dragging out with her soaked fingers when they recoiled out, the image obscene. “What was waiting for you this whole time,”

“Els- shit, wanna feel you,”

“What you want, baby?” She gasped out, in between breaths as fingers toyed with your clit.

“Wanna feel you, y-your fucking pussy on mine-fuck,” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. The desire was simply too strong, you were dizzy just from the thought of it. Ellie seemed to share your enthusiasm, her heart skipping a beat, the thought kindling her veins with heat.

This was truly a gift from the heavens, she thought.

“Shit- yeah, okay.” Ellie exhaled out, as she got you into position, grabbing one of your smaller pillows to cushion underneath you as she placed her legs over yours, getting into place as she rubbed her clit over yours, hips lolling over your pelvis.

The sounds were debaucherous as they filled the room, hot and wet, as if the spirit of Dionysus, himself had possessed you. Invoking you with bacchanal, carnal desire as you could think of nothing else than the sublime vice that is Ellie Williams.

“Fuck, Els, I’m gonna come,”

Ellie groaned, rocking her hips over yours, her defined abs on show, breasts working with Earth’s gravity as they sprung up and down to match her movements, hair falling out of her half-bun, causing some strands to stick to her face, completely dishevelled. You looked at her, eyes attached to yours, lust ruling over them, then looked back down to where you were both intertwined. You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth at the sight before you.

Her sap mingling with yours, leaking out from her cunt as it folds over your own, Wrapping you with her warmth, pulsating around yours. Ellie’s body still trembling from before.

“Then come for me, baby,”

You were gone. With her words, you felt yourself spilling out against her, not being able to hold back the climax of your arousal spurting out from you, splashes reaching Ellie’s legs.

“Fuck, Ellie!” Your voice drawled out, as the wave ran through you,

“That’s it, angel, come all over me,” She smirked down at you, breath heavy as she watched your eyes glaze over, lips parted and chest heavy as you finally came down. A ardent glaze over her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” She gaped, eyes transfixed on your figure as her reeling mind came down from the high.

“Shit, neither did I,” you laughed, covering your mouth, suddenly shy. With your head still in the clouds, you weren’t feeling as overly self-aware.

“That was fucking hot, and I’m not done.”

—

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[bloodbankzz]

i just dropped the invisible kingdom: reimagining chronic illness at 83% read because i am fucking furious with it. within the first few chapters i immediately had a bad feeling about her penchant for pseudoscience and i shouldve trusted my fucking intuition. instead i foolishly thought she would tie it all into how desperate populations can fall into the hands of grifters under the uncaring gaze of a "healthcare" system under capitalism and in the usa especially by the end, and FOOLISHLY, FOOLISHLY, FOOLISHLY recommended it TO AN ABLED PERSON to help understand the mental toll it all took even in the most ideal of circumstances. just to fucking watch this woman pile on dubious science after dubious science while she jet sets AROUND THE FUCKING WORLD spending what would easily be hundreds of thousands of fucking dollars AND NEVER EVEN BEING FIRED FROM HER JOB DUE TO DISABILITY? she just keeps her fucking dream princeton fuckin writer job the whole time. interviewing quacks because she was scammed, and she was scammed a lot. and im sorry to her for that. but not really because fucking ozone blood whatever and flying to england for fecal transplant and supplements and supplements and supplements and obvious orthorexia were clearly very within her budget. can you imagine a world where you rack up thousands and thousands and thousands in credit card debt and it just ends up not fucking mattering? oh my god i could be mad for so long at how much this rich woman got to see top doctors (without insurance!) and experiemental procedures and this and that and that and that with EXTREMELY sketchy conclusions because ~ shes a poet at heart ~ (?????????) AND THEN PUBLISH IT LIKE SHE SPEAKS FOR ANY OF US? reimagining chronic illness?????? for who????? no i can QUITE easily imagine that rich people do indeed have the ability to buy their way into health no matter what stupid path that leads them through. that happens all the time! remember the son blood infusion guy? god. im so fucking angry and its all of this but i really was gonna fucking put up with it and just add caveats but do you know what she fucking does?

after months of antibiotics, her lyme disease is seemingly cured. great for her. she reflects on how freaking awesome it is to have a body that works again! my body was broken and now its fixed and i can have a baby. im human again.

now this whole time, as someone who has been sick my whole life and will never have the money or life she has, i had been listening, and feeling seen by her emotional plight (if extremely skeptical of her... favored... choices?) but the whole time i will not lie to you i was simmering with this now exploding anger due to a deep envy. i am envious of a lot of people though, specifically because of my disabilities. so i was swallowing it. she got to make it to adulthood before she was dying. she got to establish and keep her career of choice. she could see any practioners she wished. i was so painfully jealous, but again, i was still recommending it on the basis of "this is how bad it is for the luckiest one of us." the betrayal i felt, when this book that kept SAYING it was about finding the ability to live in uncertainty brought on by mysterious illnesses, which i put up with through so many fucking red flags, ended with her literally fucking fine? pretty much fucking cured of the big thing causing her problems? AND IT TURNED OUT? THIS WHOLE THING? WAS ABOUT HOW MUCH IT SUCKS TO EXPERIENCE CHRONIC DISEASE FOR SOME YEARS AND HOW GREAT IT IS WHEN YOU DONT ANYMORE AND YOU GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT?

she gets to feel human again. thats so fantastic for you. do you know what that makes me?

this would not be a big deal in a memoir about one womans decade(?i think) long struggle to get better and happy ending. neither would the glaring lack of real social justice & meaningful critique of a system aside from how it sucks for her specifically with a tiny bit of lip service for the rest of us with MASSIVE, GLARING BLINDSPOT OF PRIVILEGE unescapable in everything she fucking says and does. however. i would not have read that book. i picked up a book called Reimagining Chronic Illness. and i expected it to be about reimagining chronic illness. perhaps, starting from an empathetic touchstone of personal struggle.

0/5 all i wish is that i had trusted my fucking gut or that this book wouldve had the decency to show me what it was SEVEN FUCKING HOURS AGO. i can tell why an ableist society showered it with praise.