#so i get on the train and then FINALLY get home at 10pm
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on one hand I love trains, on the other hand my train was cancelled twice on Tuesday and I hate national rail <33
#my train was meant to go from station a to station b (where i live) between 4.45pm and 8.05pm#3.5hrs which is annoying but not bad#train gets to station a at 4.40 and turns out its cancelled#okay fine next train is in an hour but our tickets are only valid on this one trainline which only has 3 other trains running for the day#get to the platform for the 5.45pm and it gets to 5.20 and would you look at that the trains cancelled!#now there is only 1 train running for that trainline#it would require me going from station a to c then changing at c to d to get from d to b#i would inevitably get lost#SO at 5.40 we get on a train for a completely different company but it gets me from a to e#i can change from e to b so its fine#so i get to e at 7.56pm and my e to b train is at 8.11pm#so i get on the train and then FINALLY get home at 10pm#2hrs later then i was meant to with the journey taking 5.5hrs instead of 3#so basically trains are stress but its fine bc its a train#bibliophile-bi
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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏 : 𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡
Gloomy Days
【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But luckily, Yunho knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.
『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.07k
-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Fluff. Slice of slice. Smut
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Boyfriend!Yunho x F.Reader
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Petnames (Yuyu, Peach, Baby). Making out. Yunho got big dick energy. Riding. Hand job-ish. Unprotected sex (that's a no, no).
Note : First day of the filth train!! I would like to mention that I'll be posting these stories from 9-10pm AEST, so everybody gets a little bedtime story heheh.
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list.
The rain poured heavily as the hot summer day out, turned quickly into a stormy stay-at-home kind of day. You and Yunho ran without a second thought as soon as the first drop of water hit your forehead, spilling down your cheek. Once you finally made it to Yunho’s car, he opened the boot to let you crawl in haste. He soon followed you once he had finished poorly folding the picnic blanket, and when you say folded, it was more scrunched up and thrown onto one of the car's back seats.
“Well, today was not what I planned.” Yunho huffed, feeling disappointment riddle his mind. This was your six-month anniversary date, and he had planned to make the none other than special. But what he didn’t expect was to be soaked head to toe in buckets of water.
“It’s okay, I still had fun.” You chimed in with a big smile still plastered on your face. You were cuddled up to him, with your legs dangling out of the car, all the while watching a little water stream starting to form in front of you. “We can still continue the fun here.” Your words got caught in your throat as blush taints your plump cheeks, suddenly recalling back just before the storm set in and you and Yunho were peacefully making out on a picnic blanket in the middle of nowhere. He smirked ear to ear, finding your words rather dirty, even though they mostly had an innocent intent. You were just talking about the softness of the date, not the… other stuff.
He didn’t say anything in response to you. Instead, he turned his whole body, pushing you down in the back of his large car boot. His hand rested on the back of your head while he urged you to lay down, letting your head hit the floor with a huff. His lips latch onto yours in seconds, biting and sucking a moan out of you. you bucked your hips up, feeling his knee push slightly against your clothed core. Your body began to crave him, no longer feeling cold from the rain, but rather annoyed the your wet clothes were blocking his way.
“Yuyu…” your whimpers were music to his ears. Pulling away, his breath hitched, seeing your glossed expression. You are perfect in every way to him, your voice, your personality, your body. You. He was whipped, hooked on your love, and wanted nothing more than you make you his every day, at every hour, and every moment he could.
He’s addicted.
“Don’t worry, Peach, I got you.” His deep voice swoons you as his large fingers curl into the fabric of your clothing, promptly pulling and tuging until the material falls off your body. Your wet skin scratched against the floor but you couldn't care less at that moment, all you cared about was Yunho's cock deep inside you. His fingers danced around your clit, feeling your slick already soaking your cunt and thighs from the earlier make-out session.
“I can’t wait just…please…” You were growing impatient, and the way you were laying down was starting to make your body ache. So without another moment, Yunho pulled down his pants, letting his cock spring free. He was about to lift your legs when you pushed on his chest slightly, making him sit down so his back would lean against the car seat. He was confused at your sudden boldness, Never have you ridden him before so this was new. But he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen.
You, naked and soaked. Hair messy and making up running. All the while, you were crawling to take a seat on his lap. He must have died and went to heaven. Your legs sat on either side of his thick thighs. Your eyes never leaving his as you reach down for his cock, stroking the shaft in a harsh couple of pumps. His groans went straight to your core, feeling pride pool in the pit of your stomach.
“You gonna ride me, baby?” He growls, gripping your hips, tugging you towards him in one movement. You just giggled at his dirty words, feeling his tip slide along your slit. Your smile quickly turned down, while your brows crossed, notioning his cock to easily slip inside you. “That’s it Peach. Take what’s yours.”
You quickly ground yourself, moving your hips at a steady pace. Back and forward. Up and down. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your breast against his chest. His pants grew heavier as your moans grew louder. You were both desperate, lost in one another to the point neither of you cared that the door of the boot was still wide open. Thank god Yunho picked a secluded place.
“Yuyu please….nghh.” Your slurred moans called for Yunho, making him wrap his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face out of the crook of his. You were drooling, with the most beautiful fucked out expression Yunho could have ever seen. Fuck, he wanted to bust a nut then and there from your face alone. He knew you were close to cumming and he wanted, no, needed you to cum before him. He needed to feel your clench around him while your juices painted his cock. So he planted his feet down, bringing his knees up before helping you thrust deep, hard and fast inside you.
Your body falls limp as he lets go of your neck so he can grip your hips with power. You called his name over and over like a broken record, clenching around him harshly as you came undone. His movements didn't faltered though, as he chased his own high. And after a couple more thrusts he felt himself snap, spilling his cum deep inside your soaked puffy pussy.
His thrusts became sloppy until they stopped altogether. He could feel your heartbeat racing against his chest while your breathing matched his. You stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence as Yunho rubbed shapes into your lower back lovingly. You opened your eyes for a moment and noticed the rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine through the gloomy clouds. A smile caught your features at you thought, Maybe today didn’t go completely as planned, but it still was a great day nonetheless.
- ♥︎
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez reaction#ateez reactions#kpop smut#kpop#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez poly#ateez scenario#ateez x female reader#ateez x reader#ateez x reader smut#atz reactions#atz smut#atz fluff#atz drabbles#atz hard hours#atz imagines#atz scenarios#atz x reader#atz fanfic#yunho fanfic#yunho scenarios#kinktober 2023#kinktober#ja3hwa
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i think we could do it if we tried
So I misread a prompt, and didn’t realize until halfway through the fic. This was the result and it ended up being weirdly personal? If you hate it or think it’s unrealistic, I know, it’s just wishful thinking, ok?😭
i think we could do it if we tried
You’re sure Jamie’s expression will be burned into your mind forever. After all, you’re the one who put it there.
“I don’t know why I’m crying,” you say, tears streaming down your face, “I’m the one who’s breaking up with you.”
Jamie just laughs wetly. “Not your fault, though, is it?”
That just makes you cry harder.
You and Jamie had been friends for a long time, and he’d been in love with you forever. You didn’t return the feeling until you turned eighteen. It was on your birthday, actually. He had insisted on wearing a birthday hat all day, despite that fact that he was at training and you were at home, so you didn’t see each other until the end of the day. Something about seeing the sparkly cone on his head did something to your heart, and there it was; you loved him.
You suppose the love was always there, lying dormant, but now it had arisen. It took you a week to muster up the courage to tell him, but you did and now it felt like the world made sense.
Now, a month later, you’re breaking up with him.
Jamie had been playing football for a while now, and he was really, really good. You were beginning your studies as an undergrad and had your life mapped out until grad school. He was moving away soon and you were leaving tomorrow, but that wasn’t the reason you were breaking up.
It’s because your parents didn’t approve.
“I can’t make them understand,” you tell Jamie, willing yourself not to cry. “And… I know I’m eighteen, but they’re paying for university. They said they’d pay all the way through grad school, and I can’t afford it on my own.”
Jamie nods and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
“God, it’s fuckin’ shitty, ain’t it?” he says. “Me ‘n you, finally figuring it out too late.”
You can only nod and sniff. Your parents told you that Jamie was a good friend, but nothing more.
“You’re only projecting feelings onto him because you know he likes you,” your mum had said. “And besides, he plays football. Can’t support a family on that, can you?”
Any protests you made fell on deaf ears. Your parents never explicitly said they’d pull their financial support, but it was hinted. It hung in the air, poisoning the atmosphere in the house. Your mother’s displeasure saturated the building, affecting everyone inside.
So here you are, standing in the dim light of Jamie’s mum’s porch, breaking up with him at 10pm.
He knew it was coming, too.
“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, yeah?” he’d said two days earlier.
You just nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about quitting football,” he continued, “Get a real job, stay closer.”
You had protested vehemently. He loved football, and he was good, like really good, and how could you ask him to give it up?
So yeah, it wasn’t a total blindside.
Still hurt, though.
You stood there, a long time, without speaking. You were memorizing each other’s faces and the way it felt being together for the last time.
There’s a light on in Georgie’s room, and you wonder if she’ll still love you despite the fact you broke her baby’s heart.
Jamie finally breaks the silence. “You should go,” he says, “before your parents figure out you’re gone.”
You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just reach out and squeeze his hand. He pulls you in for a hug, the tightest one you’ve ever received, and you never want to let go. But you do.
You fight the urge to say I’ll wait for you. I’ll find you when I’m done with school. We’ll make it work. But you don’t want to give him false hope. You don’t want to hurt him more than you already have.
So instead, you whisper “I love you, Jamie Tartt,” and force yourself to walk away.
—
That was six years ago. You pushed yourself through school, got out with your BA in three and a half years, and scraped through your MA in two. There were times it felt a little like hell, but you persevered.
You’re pretty sure the worst moment was during your third year, when your roommate, a football aficionado, started talking about Man City’s hotshot new player.
“Oh my god, he’s like, so fucking sexy. The things he does on the pitch… he’s like, revolutionized the game.”
“Hm,” you say noncommittally, lost in a textbook.
“Yeah, heard he’s a bit of a prick though. Grew up in Manchester, and he’s about our age. D’you reckon you knew him?”
“What?” you say, finally lifting your eyes from the page. “I didn’t grow up in Manchester, just lived there when I was a teenager.”
Your roommate shrugs. “Did you know a ‘Jamie Tartt?’ Dating Keeley Jones?”
And there it was. The worst moment of your whole university career.
You turn back to your book in order to hide your face. “Doesn’t sound familiar,” you say, and your roommate doesn’t push it. She’s too busy telling you how Jamie and Keeley are the hottest, most perfect couple she’s ever seen.
You’re past that now. It still feels like a stabbing pain every time you hear his name or see his face on a screen, but for the most part, you’ve shut down that part of your brain.
You might have shut it down a little too successfully.
In the last six years, you’ve been in exactly two relationships. Both short-lived, both leaving you with a sense of apathy.
But, your parents approved of both of them. Didn’t matter that they were shallow, self-absorbed dickheads; “He’s cute and has a good job!” your mum had said, oblivious to the fact that she was replaying the exact same pitch to you from before.
You had felt a rush of relief when the news hit that Jamie and Keeley had broken up. You hated hearing about all his escapades, and how much he hurt her. It made your heart ache, knowing he was burying himself in his prickish attitude the same way you were burying yourself in yours.
Well, maybe that’s too harsh. You aren’t a prick per se, you’re just… cold. Emotionless. You felt very little this days, because every time you felt the tiniest bit of anything, everything threatened to overwhelm you.
After school, you just… kept moving. No sense in going home, you loved your family but they made you feel like you were drowning. And you couldn’t make yourself go back to Manchester.
Georgie called you from time to time, checking up on you. Turns out she didn’t hate you. She was actually rather worried. She never, ever mentioned Jamie.
“You can’t just stop living life, love,” she had said one time. “That’s all it is: love and loss. You just keep moving forward.”
You took her advice literally, securing a good job that allowed you to work remotely. You moved to the east side of London, West Ham, but were never at your flat longer than a week. After all, you were hot and had a good job. Why not travel? You had no strings keeping you anywhere.
Now you’re back in West Ham for two weeks, getting ready to go to Barcelona. A friend has a timeshare that she can’t make it to, so you volunteered to go. After all, it’s better to be apathetic in Barcelona than it is in West Ham, right?
Whatever the case, you’re here for much longer than you’d like to be, but you’re going to make the best of it. You have a friend from uni who lives near you, so you’re going out tonight. She wants to go to some upscale restaurant a couple minutes from your flat with a few other girls, and you decide that you’d rather not be alone tonight.
You don’t mention that it’s your birthday. You stopped celebrating them at nineteen.
Your hair and makeup are done, you’ve put together an appropriate fancy-dinner outfit, and you’d say you’re looking classy. You grab your bag and head out the door.
It’s only a ten-minute walk, and there are all kinds of people out. You wonder why, then remember it’s Saturday. That explains it.
There’s an especially rowdy bunch of guys up ahead, seemingly corralled by a middle-aged man with a mustache. As you draw closer, you hear his accent. American, specifically mid-Western. You breeze by them, catching snatches of their conversations and a mix of accents.
Your ear tunes into someone saying, “…not what really happened,” with an accent that reminds you so much of Jamie’s, you find yourself rooted to your spot in the sidewalk, turning around to confirm that it is not, in fact, him.
You make eye contact with the middle-aged mustached man, who smiles at you and shrugs. “Footballers. What a rowdy bunch,” he says, “Wonder where their coach’s at?”
You surmise by his jocular tone that he’s their coach.
You give him a small smile and he comes over to you. Your feet still won’t move, because you haven’t confirmed that the voice was not Jamie. Or maybe because this man is a gaffer, and you want him to say something, anything about possibly knowing Jamie Tartt.
“I’m Ted,” he says, sticking out his hand.
You shake it and give him your name. At this point, his team have noticed that their coach is talking to someone new, and they descend like a flock of curious children.
There’s a chorus of hellos and one hola, but it’s all a little lost because all you can hear is one soft, “hey.”
“Hi,” you breathe.
One look into Jamie Tartt’s blue eyes and you’re a goner, even after six years.
Ted looks from you to Jamie. “Oh, do y’all know each other? Jamie, why didn’t you say something?”
“Dunno,” Jamie says, keeping his eyes on you.
Ted, great man that he is, assesses the situation with alarming perception.
“Alright boys, why don’t we let Jamie catch up with his lady-friend, and we’ll just text him where we end up, sound good?”
It does not sound good to them, because they can tell something interesting is about to happen, but Ted and another bearded American herd them away and down the street, leaving you and Jamie alone on the sidewalk.
“How you been?” he asks, looking awkward as you feel.
“I’ve been…” what word is there to describe how you’ve been? You settle for a shrug.
He nods and huffs out a single chuckle. “Yeah, that about sums it up, don’t it?”
“What about you?” you ask, reaching out to lightly tap his arm. “Heard you were some hotshot footballer.”
Jamie imitates your shrug. “Heard you were some hotshot something or the other.”
You crack a small smile at that. “Georgie tell you?”
“Yeah,” Jamie says, “Felt the need to keep me updated. Don’t fuckin’ know why though.”
That hurts a little bit. This is a mistake, you think. You begin to realize, perhaps for the first time, that your pining after him was pointless. And one-sided.
That is, until Jamie says so softly you almost miss it, “Happy birthday, by the way.”
There it is.
You open your mouth to say, I love you, but what comes out instead is, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Jamie asks in surprise.
“I’m just… sorry. For everything. For walking away. I don’t know, I feel like I should have fought it or something… I think about you all the time. I wish that I would’ve done something different, I guess. I know I can’t change it, but…” you shrug helplessly.
Jamie just looks at you, head tilted.
You huff out an awkward laugh. “Anyway. I should probably go. Meeting a bunch of girls for drinks and dinner.”
“You hate that shit,” Jamie says, and it comes out the exact same way he would have said it six years ago. Like he’s comfortable with you, like he knows every single tick in your brain.
“I do,” you agree ruefully. “Just couldn’t get out of it, I guess. Didn’t have a good excuse.”
“Go out with me,” Jamie suggests, impulsively. But then, he was never one for forethought.
Your mouth opens to decline, then shuts.
“You’re done with school, yeah?” Jamie continues, “Mum said you haven’t been home in ages. Said she knows more about you than your parents. What if… what if we gave it another go? We’re fuckin’ adults, ain’t we? Let’s just fucking try.”
He’s looking at you, so full of anxious hope that it makes you want to cry. You can feel a few tears fighting their way forward.
“Jamie,” you say, “Jamie I don’t know. I mean- I hurt you. I knew what I was doing would hurt you and I did it anyway. I could hurt you again.”
Jamie replies, “Weren’t your fault though, was it?” and you’re taken back so vividly to that front porch.
You look at him, really look at him for the first time in six years. He’s older, you realize, and you think that he must think something similar about you. He’s calmer, almost- gentler? Still the same Jamie though, with the blonde highlights and the slit in his eyebrow. Outrageous sense of fashion, one that is no longer dulled by the ominous presence of his father. He’s more sure of himself, you think, and you realize you’re more sure too.
There isn’t anything hanging over your head threatening to take your livelihood away.
It’s poetic, really. You, him, in the dim streetlight. Deciding to begin again exactly six years after it ended.
“Jamie,” you say again, because you love the way his name feels on your lips, “I didn’t ever stop loving you. I don’t ever want to stop loving you.”
He’s taken a step closer, and there’s mere centimeters between you.
“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, right?” you whisper, “Been thinking about stopping traveling. Maybe settle down closer, focus on my job more.”
Jamie smiles. “Go out with me,” he says. “Skip your dinner. You’d have a shit time, anyway.”
You smile back and reach out for his hand. It still fits perfectly in yours. Maybe even better.
“I would love to.”
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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Omg reader making gavi mad and him giving her silent treatment but he can’t say no to her??
Cute when mad
Pablo was waiting for you at home for a plane date night you set up to have after weeks of busy schedules and not being able to enjoy time together properly.
"Done estabas preciosa??" he asked himself repeatedly looking at the wall clock that showed it was almost 10pm and you were still nowhere to be seen.
You did text him earlier today that you might be a little late since you are studying at the library for the upcoming exam. Pablo agreed not knowing 'a little late' would be more than couple of hours at least.
"Y si le pasara algo malo?" [And what if something bad happened to her?] he was on the phone with Pedri asking for advice on what to do when you unlocked and opened the front door.
"Ella llegó a casa. Hablamos luego." [She arrived home. Talk later.] he said hanging up on Pedri who was chuckling how easy Pablo gets worried about you. He knew then just how madly in love he is with you and he was very much happy for Pablo.
"Hola Pablito. I'm sorry I'm late. So much studying.." you leaned in to kiss his lips but he moved to the side making you kiss his cheek instead. He has a grim look on his face and you knew he was mad at you. He was always so cute when he was acting like an "angry bird" as you call him oftentimes.
"Let me change and we can cuddle on the couch huh?" you ask taking off your shoes deciding to ignore the fact that he didn't let you kiss him or that he wasn't talking to you at all. Last thing you needed right now is an argument. You had a long day and just want a nice night with your boy.
When you came back to the living room joining Pablo on the couch, he was still quiet staring at some Tv show but looking very much disinterested.
"How were training amor? You tired??" you ask running your fingers through his hair knowing how much he liked that after a long day and he though you were not playing fair at all. He still menaged to stay quiet.
"So, now you're using silent treatment with me cariño?? You know I'm the master of silent treatments??" you move closer pecking his lips a little frustrated that he was not kissing you back. You were determined to make him talk to you no matter what the hell happens!
"Pablooo! Oh Pablo!! If you talk to me right now..um..I will...ah I will give you one of those back massages you love so much??" you started bargaining seeing that there was a slight smile on his face that he was trying so badly to hide.
"Bueno..then maybe..I will make your favorite chicken marsala tomorrow for lunch huh?? We haven't eaten it in soo long..and I have your mamá's recipe??" you said seeing Pablo giving you a side eye knowing that you were getting closer and closer to winning this silly game you were playing right now.
"Amooor! Come on! Just tell me what I have to do to have back my sweet loving novio?? Huh??" you straddled his lap helplessly trying to get him to acknowledge your efforts. You saw him smile and so you leaned in for a kiss but he still moved his face allowing only your noses to touch (gif)/. Damn tease!
Meanwhile it was very hard for Pablo to stay mad at you. He knew how hard you work. When he saw how exhausted you looked with dark circles on your gorgeous face, he knew you had no choice but to stay longer at the library.. he admired your work ethic so much being very proud of your accomplishments.
He wasn't even angry anymore but it was fun getting such love from his girl who was needy for his attention.
"Hm..and what if I wear that special red lingerie that's only for your eyes huh??" you whisper into his hear and Pablo immediately gets horny and hard poking you through his shorts.
"Joder amor!" he finally spoke when you were grinding on his lap in response to his growing bulge and you smirked nodding your head and leaning in closer until your lips finally collided.
"Hm..I got you to talk to me again Pablito"you gigged getting off his lap and he stoop up spanking your ass teasingly.
"Now you ready to make up for being late princesa??" he said moving closer to you and you had to look up to meet his eyes seeing them dark and lustful. Fuck! You were so turned on!!!
"Hm..si papi" you wink running towards the bedroom and he followed after you with a smirk on his handsome face.
"Nena buena.." he said closing the door ready to finally spend some "quality time" with his precious girl <3
#gavigif#gavi#fc barça#fc barcelona#fc barca#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi#gavira#pablo martín páez gavira#pablo gavira#pablogavixreadersmut#gavi x vini#gavi x you#gavi x reader#gavi x yn#pablogavixreaderfluff
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Can i have a little request, where SO GN!reader loves to cook, and every time Leon arrives home, there's a nice and tasty meal. So, in return he tries to cook dinner for them?
I have the thought that he's terrible at cooking, and if he does something it's just... Edible.
Poor leon, juat tries his best to impress their SO :'3
𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 ; “ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐨𝐮𝐭 ”
tbh it’s a 50/50 for me when it comes to leons cooking skills. at the same time i think he sucks ass but on the other hand ( i still strongly believe he’s part italian ) just him cooking his childhood recipes for you because it’s his love language. the struggle is real.
leon s kennedy x gn!reader
warnings ; leons near death experience in the kitchen, medical inaccuracies
usually it was the other way around. leon was the one that you had to wait for for hours or sometimes even days at a time but not this time around. it so happened that the DSO finally let him have his vacation uninterrupted.
so he decided to repay your kindness. with all this free time he started to get restless and frustrated. he was so used to always being somewhere, doing something and living of off this adrenaline rush. leon thought it would be a nice change of pace to try something in the kitchen but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
it was nearing 10pm when you finally came back home. for the past week your boss was not going easy on you. in fact it felt as if he was pushing you to your limits.
as you unlocked the front door all you could think about was a nice bath and going to sleep wrapped up in leons arms. you were expecting him to be in the living room watching tv but instead you could smell something burning in your kitchen.
before you could process what was going on you heard a loud thud and a string of curses coming from leon. it ripped you away from your train of thoughts and you quickly walked towards the entrance to your kitchen.
the sight in front of you was amusing. leon holding his hand under a stream of cold water, a pan of what you suppose used to be tomato sauce that was now all over the floor and cabinets.
“ lee, honey, what happened here? ” you asked as you slowly walked up to him trying to maneuver your way without walking into splashes of still hot sauce.
“ i burned myself on the handle of the pan and well, the rest i think you can figure out yourself. ” you couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped your lips at his beat up expression. to think that a top tier government agent had struggled with the task of making dinner was hilarious. of course you would never berate him for that or make him fell bad about it but the situation was just amusing.
“ it’s not funny. ”
“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry… but it is a little bit funny. ” you turned off the water and inspected the burn on his hand. it wasn’t bad but you could already see the bubbles slowly forming and as you slightly pressed around the mark left by the handle he hissed.
“ okay, keep your hand under the cold water. i’ll go grab something to soothe the burn and we’ll clean up the mess. ”
⋆。゚☁︎��⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
in the end you ordered some chinese take out from the only place still open at this hour. it wasn’t some fancy dinner but right now you could eat a horse with the hooves so it didn’t matter.
leon unfortunately was still grumpy about the whole ordeal. even more so that the injured his dominant hand and for the life of him couldn’t operate around with the other hand, so you ended up feeding him yourself.
“ come on, don’t be like that. ” you grinned at his dissatisfied face as you held a bite of rice noodles in front of him with your chopsticks.
“ this is fucking embarrassing. ”
#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#noir leon kennedy#resident evil 2#resident evil 4#resident evil infinite darkness#resident evil leon#leon kennedy resident evil#leon kennedy x y/n
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for the prompt game: ROSEKILLER 57 WITH BOXER AU IVE BEEN WAITING MY WHOLE LIFE FOR THIS MOMENT……….. (also i hope you’re having a fun day off laurie hi hi 🥺🤍)
HI HI SAINTS BELOVED <333 i actually didn't get the day off bc i'm an idiot and i couldn't say no when my coworker asked me to change shifts.. but at least i got home before 10pm which . is unusual for me lmao . and today's shift was actually kinda fun so !!
anyways, hope you're having a lovely day and that u enjoy this silly lil thing <3 first peek into boxer au rosekiller <3 (i went a bit overboard but they've been plaguing my mind and u don't deserve less)
57. "Teach me to fight."
It's been more than half an hour of hitting the punching bag nonstop when Barty finally decides to take a break. It's not even because he's actually tired, despite the sweat he can already feel dripping down his back and his face. It's because his bad shoulder—the right one—dislocated during the last combination he tried, and after Barty puts it back in place, he's gotta wait a little bit before going back to training.
This happens way too often for comfort, but it's not really painful anymore—it never really was, or maybe Barty has simply dealt with much worse. Besides, the longer he ignores it, the more serious it'll get, which means he'll have an excuse to go get another check-up.
His manager already warned him when he first got the injury after that stupid fight with stupid Potter. Barty began to grow restless during recovery time, and then decided his shoulder was fine when it stopped hurting.
Obviously, he was wrong. Except, it only dislocates when he goes too hard, and he's learnt how to put it back in place without issue, so really, technically, he was sort of right. What does his manager know, anyway? As long as Barty continues winning and putting money in that fucker's pocket, there shouldn't be any complaints.
He pulls up his tank top and dries off some of the sweat on his neck and the side of his face, while rolling his shoulder gently, testing the waters before he goes back to punching, when the hairs at his nape begin to stand up.
There's no noise, no sudden sounds. Barty doesn't hear the door opening, or closing, and yet, when he turns around, smirk already pulling at his lips, he isn't surprised to find someone standing right behind him.
"Hey, Rosie," he greets the other man, who blinks at him, completely deadpan. "I didn't know you were still around. Long shift today?"
"Yes, you did," Evan responds, that cool tone of his sending a pleasing chill down Barty's spine. "Know, that is. I'm pretty sure you've got my schedule memorised."
Barty takes a few moments to drop the hem of his shirt, because he notices the way in which Evan's gaze drops to his stomach and stays there for a handful of seconds. His expression doesn't change, there isn't even a flicker of something in his face, but the attention is more than enough for him.
"Well, you left your email open and your laptop in my near vicinity." Barty shrugs, eyes running up and down Evan's body. He's still wearing that sexy white coat of his, the shirt underneath it perfectly buttoned and tucked inside his jeans.
There's barely any skin showing, because Evan is a little weirdo, but there's some ankle peeking, since the pants are ridiculously tight on him and the legs keep riding up slightly.
Honestly, it's like he's doing it on purpose. Barty can't be blamed if he ends up hard under his sweats. He can already feel some blood rushing south just at the sight of that tiny sliver of soft brown skin.
"And you downloaded my rotas?" Evan guesses, tilting his head to the side.
"Nah," Barty says, crossing his arms over his chest, flexing a little. "Didn't have to. I've got a damn good memory. I read over them for a couple of minutes until they stuck."
Evan nods, not fazed in the slightest.
"That's why you only come in when I'm on shift," Evan states, and it's not a question. He doesn't seem surprised, or freaked out, but then again, he barely shows any emotions. Apart from irritation, that is, and that one's reserved for when Barty is being especially pushy. Or especially horny.
"I don't think I've ever seen any of the other nurses a single time in my life," Barty tells him with a chuckle.
"You have," Evan retorts, and his eyes narrow the tiniest bit. Barty feels a pull in his stomach. "You were talking to Betty three weeks ago, after your match against Black. The bad one. You let her check your shoulder."
Barty lets out an incredulous laugh, not sure on where to focus first, going dizzy with how badly he wants this freak of a man.
He's obsessed with the way in which Evan always seems to get the urge to clarify which Black he's talking about, as if it's not obvious, considering only one of them fights. How he's always so precise, never allowing any ambiguity into his sentences. How almost nothing seems to hold his focus apart from his experiments and medicine and his patients' injuries, and yet, here he is, remembering when Barty talked to someone else momentarily.
"Did I?" Barty asks innocently, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his shit-eating grin at bay.
"Yes," Evan responds, a little furrow appearing between his eyebrows. "She was touching you."
"Was she?" The corners of Barty's mouth are twitching so much he's sure he must look like an absolute maniac.
"Yes," Evan repeats, some exasperation slipping into his voice. "She wasn't even doing it right. She kept kneading the muscle in the same place, instead of checking the ligament, and she did this for more than five minutes, even though it takes seconds to find out about a dislocation—"
"Rosie," Barty cuts him off gently, watching, with no little amount of delight, how Evan's frown worsens. "I didn't even know her fucking name. I couldn't give less of a fuck about stupid Betty, or whatever the hell she's called."
Evan blinks slowly. "But you—"
"I was tired and sore after that match, my shoulder was bothering me, and she was there. My manager told her to check my shoulder, just in case I had fucked it up beyond solution, but if I had known you were around she wouldn't have laid a single finger on me."
There's a beat of silence, Evan's dead eyes searching all over Barty's face, assessing and determined. He smirks at him, which results in Evan huffing and looking away.
"Don't do it again," it's what he ends up mumbling, and if Barty didn't know any better, he'd dare to say Evan is close to pouting. "You're my patient."
Barty raises both eyebrows, a deranged smile splitting his face while he perks up like a goddamn dog. "Is that jealousy I'm hearing, Rosie?"
"No," Evan drawls, straightening up. "It's just the truth. You're not my only patient, you know? But if you're getting treated by me, then you're not allowed to see any other nurses."
"Damn, way to make a man feel special," Barty scoffs, but he does actually kind of mean it. Which he's aware might be a bit pathetic, but, well, he'll be whatever the fuck Evan wants him to. "Wasn't interested in seeing any other nurses, anyway."
"Good." Evan nods, almost to himself, and Barty has to make an active effort not to coo. "Are you done training?"
Barty blinks a couple of times, slightly taken aback, both by the sudden change of topic and by Evan entertaining conversation. Normally, talking to the other boy feels like pulling teeth—oh, man, Rosie would fucking love this comparison—which Barty doesn't mind because he finds it incredibly fun. Unless Evan is going on one of his medical rants, and yeah, Barty shouldn't find it as attractive as he does, but it's not like he's ever worked like he's supposed to.
But this? This is new.
"Not really," Barty answers, still feeling off-kilter. He shakes his head, forcibly pulling himself out of his mind. "Why? You wanna join me, Rosie?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Barty snorts, assuming that it's a joke, even though he's more than aware that Evan doesn't do jokes, because his humour is way too dark, and rarely finds funny what others do. But Evan's expression doesn't change, and Barty nearly chokes on his own spit.
"Wait, you're serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've never been interested in boxing," Barty points out.
"That's a lie. I watch every match," Evan argues, lips pursed.
"Because you're job kind of forces you to."
"Also a lie. I need to be there when I'm on shift, in case they call for me, but I'm not required to actually watch."
"Yeah, but you still do, because your pretty little morbid head goes absolutely feral at the prospect of seeing some blood."
Evan scrunches his nose, as if disgusted.
"You're wrong," Evan lies, expression giving absolutely nothing away. Really, if Barty didn't already know the truth, he'd be inclined to believe him. "It's got nothing to do with that. I like boxing."
Barty huffs, the noise filled with amusement. "Sure you do, Rosie."
"I really do," Evan insists, always so ridiculously stubborn.
"I don't know who you're trying to convince, but—"
"Teach me to fight."
Barty sputters, brows almost reaching his hairline, and he gapes at Evan, who's still staring at him. He seems unaffacted by Barty's dramatics, but then again, he's unaffected by almost everything.
"The fuck?" he manages to spit out at some point.
"Teach me to fight," Evan says again, a lot slower, as if Barty is some kind of idiot. God, he wans to fucking devour him.
Barty isn't sure of what's going on right now. Evan barely interacts with him outside of their appointments, it's always him reaching out, so he doesn't understand what prompted this. What Evan is hoping to achieve.
"Why?"
"I told you, I like boxing."
"Yeah, okay. And the real reason?"
Evan's tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, and it's so, so hard for Barty, not to make a very inappropriate joke.
"I'm testing something," he admits, albeit bedgrugingly.
"Ah, so you want me to be your guinea pig," Barty sighs a bit dreamily. "That sounds more like it."
"Sure," Evan agrees with unsurprising ease. "Will you?"
"All you had to do was ask, Rosie."
They get to work right after that. Barty doesn't even bother with suggesting a change of clothes, because he's aware of how well that'd be received. The fact that Evan chooses to take the white coat off is already more than Barty expected.
He tries to show him how to stand, how to do a basic punch. Evan knows most of the basic theory, mostly due to how often he deals with boxing injuries, but he's absolutely helpless when he has to act it out himself.
It doesn't matter how often Barty corrects him; he keeps slouching, stance all wonky. He lacks strength, and he takes a bit too long to protect his face after doing a jab.
The main issue, though, is his obvious lack of interest.
Evan seems to be distracted by something, too inside his own head, and when Barty is about to point this out, poke some fun at him in hopes of getting Evan to snap, the other man speaks again.
"That's enough," he declares, tone leaving no place for argument. "Let's spar."
Barty chuckles, disbelieving, but then Evan is sending a glare his way, and he raises both hands in mock surrender, giving in immediately.
He'll do pretty much whatever the fuck Evan wants him to, really.
They both get into position, and regardless of how much Barty is holding back, trying to give the other man a chance, is actually kind of laughable, how easily he overcomes him.
One moment they're exchanging soft blows, and the next Barty has Evan pinned to the floor, his legs and arms completely immobilised as Barty grins maniacally from above.
"Happy now, Rosie?" he teases.
Evan presses his mouth in a tight line. "Not quite."
"Oh, really? Because I'm starting to think this was all a ruse to get me on top of you."
Evan rolls his eyes so hard Barty worries they might get stuck inside his skull. "I'm afraid that's more your style. And anyway, I don't think it's wise to understimate your opponent like this."
"It's nothing personal, Rosie, but when victory is already mine, I—"
Barty never gets to finish. Evan raises his head so quickly his brain barely registers it, and then he's sinking his teeth hard where Barty's neck meets his shoulder. Until he breaks skin, until he draws blood, until Barty lets out a pained groan and his body goes slack, more in surprise than actual hurt.
A moment later, their positions are reversed. Evan is straddling him, mouth still attached to his skin, and Barty is lying on the cold ground, dizzy and a little bit breathless.
He doesn't know how long they stay like this—definitely not enough—but after a while, Evan lets go and sits up a little, lips stained red. It's dripping down his chin, and when he parts his mouth a little, panting softly, Barty finds out that his teeth are also crimson with blood. With his blood.
Barty groans again.
"You're hard," Evan comments, painfully nonchalant. It's that same casualness he used the first time Barty had an erection during an appointment, after Evan had pulled at the stitches on his leg and stuck his fingers inside Barty's wound.
"Yeah," he breathes out, half-delirious. "Yeah, no shit."
Evan hums, cocking his head to the side, analytical gaze running up and down Barty's body and making him twitch in his pants. The fact that Evan can feel it right under him, between his legs, forces Barty to swallow down a moan.
Barty is about to say something incredibly stupid to maybe, hopefully, alleviate the tension, when Evan leans down once more; this time, slower, more careful.
He's prepared to feel the sting of a bite again, toes curling in excitement, but it never comes. Instead, there's something wet and tentative and soft lapping at the open wound, gathering all the blood there that is still coming out.
It takes Barty a moment to realise it's Evan's tongue.
The knowledge hits Barty like a motherfucking bus. He can't stop a low moan from coming out now, or his hips from thrusting up, searching for something, anything, that Evan might give him.
Surprisingly, and instead of pulling away, the other man makes an odd noise against his skin, and Barty thinks he's imagining it when Evan presses down on him.
He freezes up after that, but only for a second, Evan's licking never stopping. But then Barty moves again, more purposefully, rubbing his erection against the apex of Evan's thighs.
The response is immediate, although definitely unconscious. Evan grinds back experimentally, with no coordination or finesse, dropping another sound into Barty's bleeding wound.
His eyes widen when his brain finally catches up properly, hands coming up to grab at Evan's hips and halt his movements.
"Rosie, are you..." Barty stops, swallows harshly. "Are you turned on right now?"
Evan laps at the blood a few more times before straightening up again, staring down at Barty with unblinking eyes and red all over his face.
"Fuck, are you—?" A laugh, strained and bordering on hysterical. "Are you wet?" He doesn't even need to check to know the answer.
Evans nods, almost imperceptibly. "Apparently so."
He has half a mind to turn them over and fuck Evan into the floor. Until Evan is a whimpering mess. Until he's crying, begging, unable to do anything but fucking take it. Until he's sore, and hurt, and full, but still asking for more. Until he can't say anything else apart from Barty's name, until he's—
"Bloody hell," Barty whispers, shutting his eyes tight and letting out another cackle.
Oh, he's going to die. He's absolutely going to fucking die.
#this took me way too long bc my best friend kept distracting me#but i had . so much fun#god i'm obsessed with them#the boxer au is jegulus but don't get it twisted#it's still rosekiller's world#they're just living in it etc etc#ANYWAYS#hope you liked this saints and that it was everything you dreamt of#MWAH#silly little drabbles#rosekiller#boxer james agenda#saints tag <3
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dfkdkfkdfg define "real" kiss??
based on this frame from the preview:
i do assume there will be lip-to-lip contact here as their mouths seem too close and sailom's arms seem too far down still to push kang away in time to stop them from touching lips
but i mean, technically the kiss from ep1 also included lip-to-lip contact but i don't think we're counting that one, so what is a real kiss anyway lkdfkldg
NOW!! if you were to ask me whether i think it will be a "romantic" kiss or whether sailom will be pushing kang away immediately or whether he'll kiss back and then push him away or whether kang will kiss sailom and sailom lets him (and kisses back) without pushing kang away or maybe he wants to push kang away but then changes his mind and kisses him back..... now those are entirely different questions that i have absolutely zero answers too
Okay since Dangerous Romance kissbaited us a few Times now, what do you think
#ngl i was so distracted by the 'falls sick and gets taken care of' trope that i totally forgot there was a kissing hint in the preview too#my first reaction to this post was ''wait there's gonna be a kiss in this ep???''#until i remembered the rest of the preview kjdfgkjdfkjdfgdf#wow i am SO glad i forgot about it bc now i have to go insane for two days only#rather than an entire week#WAIT SHIT NO I REALIZED I'LL GET TO WATCH THE EPISODE ONLY LATE ON FRIDAY BC I'M GOING ON A DAY TRIP TO VIENNA FUUUCK#i have an appointment there in the afternoon and it might easily be 10pm or later when i'll finally get to watch the ep#oh my god wish me luck that i'll be able to focus and not go insane thinking about a possible kiss scene while i'm busy in vienna rip#gotta remember to blacklist the show so i can go on tumblr when i'm on the train back home#gdi why did i say i was free on friday#(oh i know why bc originally i was gonna spend the night in vienna but then a friend asked to hang out on sat so i gotta go back on fri)#(i thought i could watch drts right after my appointment but no now i gotta get on a train back home first)#(and i don't wanna watch it on a train bc i wanna be able to focus properly and not have to control my face dkfjkdfg)#aaaaanyway enough with the ramblings sorry byeeee#dangerous romance#polls#dr ep6
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Absolute Bliss
As you’re making your way up the few steps to your front door, you can’t wait to finally be home with your fiancé. Sam was back from promo interviews and a photoshoot down in London the last few days, but you had spent all afternoon and evening celebrating one of your best friends’ birthday. You two only had a quick ten minutes together before it was time for you to leave. And as you unlock the door and quietly step inside your home, you cannot wait to spend the rest of the weekend in your own little bubble, at home with the love of your life.
Quickly putting your keys into the decorative bowl and taking of your heels, you begin to make your way towards the living room. Expecting Sam to have spend his evening there. To your surprise, all the lights are turned off except for the one in the hallway where you’re currently still standing. The man of the house nowhere to be found.
You check the time on your phone and note that it’s only just gone past 10pm. For both of you, that’s a fairly early bedtime, especially during the weekend. Strange, you think to yourself, as you turn towards the stairwell and make your way upstairs.
As soon as you step into the bedroom, a smile forms on your face and you’re itching to close the distance between you and Sam.
He’s sprawled out on his side of the mattress. Only clad in his black boxer briefs, the thin blanket covering his torso. One hand next to his head as the other one rests on his chest, ever so gently rising with his relaxed breathing. You can even hear him softly snore.
Both of your bedside lamps, as well as the floor lamp by the window are turned on and plunge the entire room in a soft yellowy-golden light. This is the definition of bliss, you think. And you almost don’t want to disrupt it, but being away from Sam for almost a week helps you make up your mind. You take the few steps towards the bed and carefully sit down next to his peacefully sleeping form. Reaching your left hand up into his soft hair, you brush some of the strands away and admire his handsome face. Starting to cares his face and slowly down his neck, your touch has the desired effect and Sam begins to stir and wake up. As your hands come to a stop on his naked chest, he carefully opens his eyes and lets out a sleepy groan
“Hhmmm…Y/N/N” a smile instantly forms on his face and as he wakes up more he moves the hand next to his head and engulfs your fingers in his.
“Fuck, what time is it? I was gan wait up for you”
“God you’re so fucking cute” you mumble to yourself as you can’t hide the grin and blush his statement sparks in you
“It’s quarter past ten or something, not very late yet. I’m honestly surprised you’re in bed already” you tease him.
He looks at you, slightly offended but you know he’s only levelling up to your teasing.
“Aye, a’ve been on the train all day, after a week of promo. Give us a break reet” he challenges you with a spark in his eyes, but you can see the lack of sleep and exhaustion clear on his face. And honestly, you’re just as ready to get into bed and have a restful night’s sleep.
“Alright” you say as you squeeze his hand and stand up “I’ll quickly get ready so we can sleep”.
Before you’re out of reach Sam playfully slaps your bum and sends you off into the direction of the adjacent bathroom. You quickly brush your teeth and clean your face after taking off your makeup, and not even 10 minutes later you emerge in only your knickers and bra, discarding the latter as you make your way to bed. Sam looks slightly more awake now and he eagerly opens his arms for you as you finally re-take your rightful place next to him. As soon as your head hits the pillow, Sam pulls the blanket up around you and turns your body into his side. Your head in the crook of his neck and half resting on his chest, one leg thrown over his. You lazily run your fingers over the soft patch of hair and start playing with his necklace that is perched atop. And you feel Sam start stroking his fingers through your silky hair absentmindedly, his other hand drawing patterns on your arm, your back. Every part of your soft skin that’s in reach for him. And you just lie there for a few minutes. No words being spoken. You’re just enjoying and refamiliarizing yourselves with the other.
Being away from each other because of Sam’s job is always hard, and over the last four years you’ve learned how to manage those times. But after spending almost an entire year with Sam at home because he had taken a break and just used that time to write and record, and him asking you to marry him just a few months ago, this week apart was harder than it ever felt before.
“Hope you had a good time tonight” he nuzzles softly into your hair
“It was lovely! The food was so good, Rachael made the birthday cake of course. She’s such a genius” you both chuckle at that, thinking back to all the tasty cakes, cupcakes and desserts she had conjured up over the years. “And Evie loooved the present we got for her. She actually couldn’t believe we’d all chip in for a trip to Venice this summer”
Sam plants a loving kiss onto your skin before he responds
“She’s really got the best friends aye” to which you lift your head up so you can look at him
“Guess she does aye” your voice gets softer as you mimic him and for a moment you just look at each other.
Sometimes you can’t believe you actually get to grow old and spend your life with Sam. You both grew up in Shields, being around the same friendship groups you have basically known each other all your lives. But once Sam started music and his career took off you’d never expected him to be interested and wanting to spend his life with someone from his small hometown.
But Sam always thinks he’s the lucky one. Never in a million years did he think he’d get to make music and have the most amazing and beautiful girl he’s ever known fall in love with him, and wanting to be with him despite his crazy work.
He gently cups your face in his hand and pulls you towards him. Leaving a soft peck at the corner of your mouth, he finally closes the distance all the way and presses his soft lips firmly onto yours. You sink into the kiss and move your hand from his chest around to the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. A soft groan leaves your lips and Sam uses the moment to dip his tongue into your mouth, softly nip at your lip before breaking the kiss completely. Still dazed you just whine at the loss of contact and open your eyes to look at him
“I love you so much” he looks back at you so sincerely and full of love. You can feel that familiar flutter in your belly that he always seems to elicit.
“I love you so much Sammy” you connect your lips with his again, needing him to feel how much you adore him. As you pull apart after a while, you tuck your head back into the crook of his neck and nuzzle as close into him as possible. Turning off the light and casting the two of you into darkness, Sam thinks back to the events of his day and how lucky he is that he gets to come home to you. Absolute bliss. For the rest of his life.
#sam fender fanfic#sam fender imagines#sam fender#sam fender fanfiction#sam fender x reader#sam fender fluff
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okay i was on the train zoning out when this scenario came up in my mind....... toxic!felix enthusiasts where you all at???
(sorry for any mistakes or incoherences, feel free to correct anything that seems wrong)
— cattonquick modern au where felix is very jealous and violent
ollie works at some bookselling place even though felix told him he didnt have to cause he's rich and he can provide for his boyfie yk. but ollie wants to do something productive during the day and he loves books so.... anyway, one night he asks felix if he can come pick him up since his shift ends quite late and felix obviously agrees cause he gets to show off his big expensive car and impress ollie's colleagues (of whom hes been jealous ever since ollie started mentioning having fun at work etc etc, especially of that one guy with whom ollie chats sometimes via text. yes, he regularly looks into ollie's phone, so what? thats what couples do.).
its 9:30pm, felix is right on time, parked in front of ollie's workplace, waiting. minutes go by and soon its 10pm and still no ollie in sight. they should have been home by now. one thing about felix : he hates waiting. and ollie's supposed to know that. he turns up the volume of the music he was listening to to match the anger that's quickly building up in his chest, making him sigh repeatedly, tap on the wheel and furiously chew on his nails. he also wants to make his presence known and hopes the loud noise will somehow make ollie get out faster.
what is he doing, for fuck sake. he grabs his phone and opens up his text message app, immediately landing on him and ollie's convo. he never replies to anyone else's texts so...
"Its been 30mins. Where are you?"
about five minutes later, the door opens up and ollie is finally out. felix stares, assuming he's going to rush to his car and apologize for being so late but, no, he lingers by the door. in fact, he's holding that door, clearly waiting for someone. soon enough, a silhouette appears and closes the shop after them. ollie stands there the whole time, waiting like a puppy, and felix can't believe his fucking eyes. he's literally fuming, his brain making up the worst scenarios of why ollie could possibly be late. and of course it involves him getting railed by his coworker.
ollie finally notices felix's car and jogs towards it. he opens up the passenger door and frowns at the loud music. felix thinks he's gonna get in quickly but he doesn't seem to want to leave. he slowly turns down the volume, not looking at ollie for one sec.
"hey! sorry im late! we were just gonna go to that one bar down the street. wanna come?" ollie says, a smile on his face, completely clueless.
"get in the fucking car." felix's voice is at its lowest pitch. he's trying to stay in control but his hands, so tightly clenched around the wheel, show that he's struggling to keep it together.
"what.... whats going on, felix?"
"don't make me say it again."
ollie gulps. felix is mad, and it doesn't look like one of his usual tantrums. he knows he should keep it low and do as he's told but he's had such a great day and he just doesn't want it to end! maybe he can get felix to calm down? he softens his tone.
"come on babe... let's go out! we'll have fun!" he leans in to put his hand on felix's arm, gently squeezing it.
the next second, he's forced into the car. felix's hand cups his cheeks, but not in a cute loving way. he's practically crushing ollie's jaw between his fingers. ollie's glasses have fallen somewhere on the car's floor and he can feel panic take over him. panic and........ some other tickling sensation he's quite fond of.
"you're hurting me-"
"shut the fuck up, ollie. shut your stupid fucking mouth. I've been waiting for your useless ass for half an hour and you think you can just come up to me all bubbly and nice and ask if i want to go have fun with you and some bitch who clearly wants to fuck you?" he's now yelling right in his face. "you wanna have fun? we'll have fun. just the two of us. at home."
he lets go of his face and reaches to close the door on ollie's side. his coworker is just standing there and watching them, looking really concerned.
"and don't you dare look at him. i'll break your nose and slaughter him." felix threatens, turning on the engine.
on the ride back home, ollie tries to make himself as small as possible, keeping his head down, shoulders in and, of course, squeezing his legs very, very tight. he has a vague idea of what's waiting for him once they get home and, boy, it's exciting.
the next day, he comes to work to hand in his resignation letter.
#SORRY THATS SO MESSY#i feel like i cant express myself properly in english AAAARGGGGGGHH#hope thats not too weird#I JUST WANT OLLIE ALL BRUISED UP YK?#oliver quick x felix catton#oliver quick#felix catton#saltburn#cattonquick#cattonquick au#saltburn au
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Caring for a Kryptonian
〚 Prompt - "You need to rest so you can get better and be your cute self again." 〛
〚 Pairing - Kara x Reader 〛
〚 Wordcount - 1800 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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“Oh god, seriously Kara, again?” You found yourself sighing deeply into the phone as your blonde-haired girlfriend admitted the news that yet again, she had lost her powers, “How’d it happen this time then?”
Kara groaned and you were pretty confident that she was pouting too, “Stupid alien that I was fighting, it was resistant to everything!”
You shook your head, “And let me guess, you pushed yourself way too far?”
“Maybe…” She sighed a little this time and it was obvious she was beyond disappointed, “The whole point of flying out here was to get stronger and now I’m being sent home only 2 days in.”
“Wait, they’re sending you home?” Kara had originally been sent out with the DEO for what Alex had called ‘a week of intensive hell’, they’d planned to had Kara train somewhere in the remote outback of Australia to test her endurance in different climates despite her insistence that it really wouldn’t make a difference. But the sudden appearance of other worldly life had put the week to a sudden halt.
“They’re putting me on a plane later tonight,” Kara whined a little louder this time, “It’s so not fair, I hate flying inside metal boxes when I could literally just do it myself.”
You couldn't help but chuckle at her complaint about flying in a metal box. It was a typical Kara response, always longing for the freedom her powers provided. However, you couldn't deny that her situation was less than ideal.
"Well, at least you'll be back home soon," you replied sympathetically. "You push yourself way too hard, we both know it. So maybe some time off will do you good, just come home, we’ll grab some junk food and relax. Then maybe we’ll throw James down an elevator shaft again and get those powers of yours back.”
Your girlfriend gave a small chuckle, “Maybe,” There was another voice coming from the other side of the phone, “Baby, I need to go, they want to do some tests then I have to go pack my stuff up. They can’t spare anything private so I’m gonna have to take a commercial flight so It’ll be like 9 hours or so. I’ll be home around 10pm.”
You felt a pang of sympathy at the news of Kara's long journey home. Nine hours on a commercial flight sounded tiresome, especially for someone used to soaring through the skies effortlessly. But it was part of the reality she had to face, balancing her superhuman abilities with the mundane aspects of life.
"Alright, Kara," you replied, trying to sound supportive despite your own frustration. "I'll be waiting for you when you get home and don't worry, I'll have all your favourite snacks ready for you."
"I love you," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and longing.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice matching hers in tenderness. "Stay safe, and remember, you're amazing with or without your powers."
With that said, you finished your phone call and began tidying your apartment up - after all you didn’t need your girlfriend coming back to a messy home. Truthfully as day grew into night you couldn’t help but get excited, tomorrow would mean Kara and that was all you could think about.
It was all you could think about the following day as well, you’d slept in a little, hoping to pass the hours somehow. The day was seemed to slowly creep day, each hour feeling longer than the last.
Dinner consisted of some frozen microwaved meal, a little bland but the hoard of snacks and drinks that you’d secured was sure to tide you over, all you needed now was SuperGirl herself. To be honest though, you were kinda surprised she hadn’t texted by now, Kara definitely wasn’t one to go radio silent.
But after what felt like a lifetime you finally heard the latch to your apartment door click open and the distinct sound of your girlfriend’s boots hit the wooden floor.
“Hi sweetheart!” You called out excitedly, rushing out of the kitchen into the entrance way, opening your arms to give your girlfriend a huge bear hug, “How was the flight, how come you didn’t text, I-“
Kara stopped you suddenly when you went to reach out for her, keeping you an arm's length away, “Don’t- hih!- come too close, I thinHh’iishoo! ..Heh-Hh’iitshiew!”
You blinked in surprise as Kara sneezed not once, but twice, in quick succession but before you could even begin to wonder what was wrong, your girlfriend answered your question.
“It happened again!” She whined hoarsely, sending herself into a small flurry of coughing but she didn’t stop you from coming closer this time and you gently ran your hand down her bag as she regained her breath.
“You’re sick?” You filled in the obvious gap, hand leaving her back and instead coming to meet her own instead. She felt hot. I mean, Kara ran hot usually but this was different. Her usually peachy and bright complexion was pasty and white, she definitely wasn’t feeling well.
She huffed a little, sniffling at her runny nose as you guided her to sit down on the couch, “The lady next to me in the lobby was sniffling the whole time and I thought I could just avoid her but guess who I was sat next to on the plane?” You already knew the answer before she continued, “Nobody else but miss contagious hhH- lady- Hi’tshiew!”
You made a sympathetic noise whilst reaching over to take a couple of tissues from the box sitting neatly on the coffee table, “Oh darling, I’m sorry. You’re non-super immune system really sucks, doesn’t it?”
Kara sniffled and nodded, blowing her nose into the tissue. "Tell me about it," she replied, her voice still hoarse. "I wish I had my Kryptonian immune system right now.”
"Well, lucky for you, I'm here to take care of you," You said with a smile before giving her a playful nudge, “Just try to keep those super-germs to yourself this time, alright? We don’t want a repeat of the Alex situation.”
The last time Kara had gotten sick she’d managed to not only break her arm but as a consequence of that, her tissue covering skills were severely impacted and unfortunately for her sister, Alex just so happened to be in her line of fire resulting in a very sick, very sulky agent a few days later.
Kara chuckled weakly, remembering the incident with her sister. "Yeah, I'll try my best to contain my super-germs this time," she replied, giving you a sheepish smile. "I really appreciate you taking care of me, though. You're the best."
You returned the gesture before pressing a small kiss to her warm cheek, “Don’t mention it. I have snacks, movies and blankets. We even have potstickers. I wasn’t originally planning for a sick-day evening but I’m sure we can improvise. Oh! You do know this means I’m gonna make you take the green goo right?”
The ‘green goo’ is what Kara had originally called NyQuil when she first saw it out of the bottle and the name stuck ever since. Oh, how you wished you could’ve captured the way her face dropped at the mere mention of medicine.
But before she could complain, her face shifted from an expression of disbelief to waiting anticipation as she scrunched up her nose preemptively.
“Bless-“ You cut in a second too early, causing her to lose the tickle and the blonde rubbed at her nose as she gave you an adorably pouty frown. For added measure you made sure to boop the tip of her red nose as you stood up from the couch before heading into the kitchen as you called out, “Stay put, I’ll return with your green goo that you’re definitely going to be taking.”
As stepped into the kitchen you heard Kara sneeze once, twice… trice? Before whining loudly afterwards as her raspy voice carried her displeasure, “Those were your fault!”
“I know.” You laughed back before hurrying to locate the medicine and another box of tissues, both of which were under the sink in the small white basket you’d dedicated to sick-day supplies. “Bless you, by the way.” You smiled, coming back to Kara to hand her the medicine and extra tissue box before disappearing and quickly reappearing with a glass of water and a can of Dr Pepper.
“Alrighty, water for you miss sickie.” You offered the drink of water when you sat back down beside her, to which she crossed her arms as she looked longingly at the cool can in your other hand and you easily knew what she was hinting at, “No way missy, this is mine. Property of me.”
“I like Dr Pepper too y’know.” She murmured, trying to sound alluring but the facade was quickly broken when it sent her into a flutter of coughing.
“Really? Who would’ve known.” You smiled playfully as you teased her a little,
“If you take your medicine and drink the whole glass of water then maybe you can have one, okay?”
She seemed to mull over your deal before agreeing, wordlessly handing you back the NyQuil to pour out a dose for her, “You sure you couldn’t have done that yourself SuperGirl?”
“Well if I’m too sick to have Dr Pepper I wouldn’t want to strain myself opening a lid, would I?” Kara sighed dramatically, taking the green goo from you and giving you a mock glare. "You're too good to me," she added lovingly before downing the medicine with a sip of water.
"I know," you replied, smirking. "It's just one of the many perks of being your amazing girlfriend."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're such a dork," she said, leaning back against the couch cushions. "But I love you."
“I love you too pumpkin, now try and relax a little.” You whispered back, kissing her forehead as you took the blanket draped along the back of the sofa and pulled it around yourselves, allowing your girlfriend to sink beside you whilst she cuddled into your side.
You didn’t really pay too much mind on what movie to put on, you knew she’d fall asleep soon anyway and your point was so perfectly proved because you were still browsing the seemingly endless rows of Netflix when small, congested but oddly cute snores began rising from the sniffling superhero at your side. You smiled, not bothering to pick a movie anymore.
Instead, you wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close, sure you both might’ve been comfier more in bed but for now, you were content just to hold her like this.
Afterall, nothing in the world mattered more than when Kara was in your arms.
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#kara danvers x reader#kara zor el x reader#kara zor el x y/n#kara danvers x y/n#sickfic#kara danvers x you#supergirl#supergirl fluff#supergirl sickfic#fluff#whump
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Late Night Subway
(Grayson x Fem Reader)
(For more further experience, can add music while reading…or not :)
Hey y’all out there! Am happy it’s a nice and cold day jeez. I want to let you know that I’m glad that I am able to make more and finding more people reading my stuff, including lesbians which is amazing 💜 I want to say thank you for loving my stuff.🤭
Enjoy reading this for today and be doing more hopefully next week since I’m off for break yay!
Gloomy night in Piltover city, their was finally an underground train station that was made for people to get back to their usual home. And one of them is you actually. A lot of folks was already home in their cozy bed, while you just got out of work and you were pretty much the only one there. The subway was dark and green, which showed in the atmosphere. Some of the lights were flickering and some weren’t but dim. The air was musty, thinking none of the workers ever cleaned down there. It felt like you were in Zaun already but weren’t. You just got off from late night working at the main area of the library in Piltover, wanted to go home so so bad. You sat on the bench waiting for the train to arrive….hopefully. This place felt unfamiliar like it wasn’t suppose to be this awful compared what it looked before. All cleaned and perfection. It would be packed everywhere during the day. Maybe this night wasn’t the right time to get pick up. It was now 10pm. You had this deep thought if someone was watching you in the shadow as you kept looking back and forth. Just in a few moments later, you heard someone approaching you. “Sorry to startled you, miss but it seems that no one should be here at this time of night. Where are you heading to at this hour?” The sheriff says coming from behind. “Um home.” You thought for a second it was a creep asking you for something, until you realize enforcers do check on others who are still around this subway area. And she was one of them. “Oh thank goodness I wasn’t the only one here, I was scare for a second.” You took a deep breath from all the anxiety you had. “Dont worry ma’am. It’s my honor and job to protect any citizens of Piltover. May I ask what’s your name, dear?” The big women says. She was pretty much taller and look pretty strong comparing to your size XD Which made you not focus on her question but her whole body figure, til you shake your head.
“Oh uh it’s y/n.” The sheriff smile in pleased. “Y/n, how lovely. I’m Grayson. As you might’ve guessed already that I’m an enforcer in case anything happened here. That’s why I came to make sure everyone gets home safely.” You form a small smile and blush appear on your cheeks. “That’s very nice of you, Sheriff Grayson. I do need to get home actually. I was just afraid something might’ve happened to me. But thanks to you,” you said. “It’s no problem, ma’am. It’s my duty to ensure city of Piltover is safe. Since I’m here, may I walk you home and make sure you arrived there safely?” Grayson says offering her hand at you. You nod, smiling as you hold her hand. “That’ll be lovely, Sheriff.” Grayson offered your hand, gesturing to walk with her as you two saw the train finally arrives. “Follow me. I’ll find us a seat somewhere.” You two walk in and sat at the farthest back corner near the window. The train begin moving on towards the tunnels. While looking through the window, you look back at Grayson, seeing her as she makes sure everything was okay during the train. She saw you look up at her, which made her chuckle and wink at you, as a way of flirting at you. You couldn’t help but lift the palm to your mouth as you turn completely red looking slightly away from her. Oh god.
Later on, Grayson sigh, sitting down next to you. You two talked for a little while to the point, you felt your eyes tired. Letting out a yawn, you tried to stay up but couldn’t. Grayson glance at you. “You seem tired, y/n. Why don’t you lean your head on my shoulder.” You look at her twice, while blinking to stay more focus. “Wha-Really? Your such a sweetheart, Grayson.” You nod at her sweet advice and lay on the side. The sheriff lets out a small hum, flustered by your nice words. Throughout the train, you two were in complete silence. An hour later, train finally stop for your destination. You didn’t know Grayson would do such a thing, which was carrying you in a bridal style, while getting off. It caught you off guard being in this sort of situation. You didn’t say anything but just let it happened. Towards home, you thank Grayson keeping you safe and warm around her. You actually wanted to do more of this with her. So you gave her your phone number in case. You gave Grayson a hug, not wanting to let her go for tonight, but didn’t wanna make things too awkward, so you pull back. “Thanks for bringing me home. Hope to see you another day. Stay safe out there, Sheriff and gets some sleep. Goodnight.” You smile waving at her, but startled when she let you go inside as a way for respect. “Me too, y/n. Me too. Have a goodnight, dear.” Grayson says before walking out and watching the night sky, thinking about you, with a warm innocent smile linger on her face.
“She does like me. Just as much I like her too.”
The end
🥺aww me next Grayson pls
#arcane#arcane fandom#arcane grayson#enforcer grayson#enforcer grayson x female reader#grayson x reader#grayson x you#sheriff grayson#fanfic#arcane fanfiction#arcane fanfic#fem reader#arcane milfs
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₍₍ iT'S A WRAP ₎₎
PAiRiNG ?! ex!kylian x black!femreader
GENRE ?! angst
SYNOPSiS ?! he didn't believe you when you told him that if he fucks up one more time, it's over. now here he is, grovelling for redemption that he's never going to get.
CW ?! swearing, kylian is relentless and desperate
A/N ?! first football work on this acc after i abandoned it for like nearly a year lol. anyways this is inspired by my current obsession 'it's a wrap' by mariah carey. i love this song too much, LISTEN TO IT 👹
anyways enjoy !! and requests are open hehe
~°~
"told you one more time, if you f'd up it's over."
~°~
"why are you here, kylian?"
your voice was unwavering, attention elsewhere as you focused on pouring a glass of champagne. you thought of pouring him one too, but his presence was already irritating you, and you were counting down until you shoved him back unto the cold streets of paris.
city of love your ass.
he ignored your question, walking towards you before leaning against the counter, mere inches away.
"pour me one."
"no."
he scoffed, you know it's playful, but you weren't tolerating his bullshit to play games. to act as if everything could've been shoved into the forgotten pit of your memory and forgiveness could be served
"kylian," then a sigh, exhausted and prolonged. you sat the bottle down on the island and it's silent.
he seemed to seek for words to say, but truth be told, had no idea why he was standing in your apartment, as if he didn't have training early the next morning. the thought triggered a yawn from him and it's then you finally look at him.
it may have been months, stretched upon its days because you truly felt every single hour that passed without his presence, yet you couldn't deny how his straining muscles or boyish grin had your mind doing laps.
"it's late, kylian. go home."
"i'm not leaving until i get you back," his tone was assertive and, laughably, certain, and you couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped your throat.
"get me back? please."
you slipped the slim champagne glass between your fingers, walking away towards the open living room. lit with candles that kylian had bought you, but their scent (and the memories that came with them, but you would never admit that to yourself) still kept you hooked. didn't have it in you to throw them away.
even if you did, it's not like you would.
"i see you haven't gotten rid of everything." he had noticed. it wasn't his business to care anymore, though.
you ignore him, and he groaned, exasperated.
"come on, [y/n], don't be like this," he urged, following you like a lost child. he truly did feel like so.
"be like what, kylian?" you huffed. it was 10pm at night for heaven's sake and he wouldn't let his persistence rest.
"we've been over this like- what? 2, 3 times? yet you don't know when to stop."
you sat down. he did the same. your leg crossed over the other, rubbing your forehead.
he tried to take your hands in his, but you slap them away.
"come on [y/n], you're being stubborn," his voice was desperate, "you know we could make it work if we tried. made compromises," he suggested, body turned to you.
you kept your gaze elsewhere, scared that one more look at him clad in that tight black shirt would unravel every wall and support you built for yourself to keep you sane.
"stubborn? don't make me laugh, kylian."
"i'm being one hundred percent serious, right now. i want you back- no, i need you back. i've said sorry so many times, and i will keep on saying it until your forgive me, [y/n]."
his words made you laugh. it's an instigating, mocking dig at him which you felt no remorse for, "keep on saying those sorry's, kylian. i'm not accepting them."
your words triggered a frustrated groan from the man, a hand rubbing down his face.
his exhaustion was getting to him. good, you thought, he can see his way out.
"i've been telling you, [y/n], everything i said and did was a mistake. everyday, i hate myself more for hurting you like that and i'm truly sorry for that-"
"sorry isn't fucking cutting it, kylian," your voice was harsh, seething, "i still wonder what was wrong with me, because you," you stab a finger in his chest, "mighty, loving kylian mbappé, said words that i never thought would even come to your mind."
he's silent, and you surged on, "then the night partying. God fucking knows what was going through you at that point," kylian never went out at night unless it was professional, but seeing him absolutely feral on his friends' stories in something that was so obviously a random club plunged you into a state of delirium.
"it happened once, i let it go. i blamed it on your stress and the pressure. i thought that you probably weren't in your right mind and accepted it, though it all hurt like utter shit."
your hands were shaking at this point, and kylian had to push down the impulse to take them in his. normally, it would've sedated you immediately, but now, he knew it would rather fuel a fire he was already giving up on.
"i tried my hardest for you, kylian. lost myself, but had to hold it together for you. your head was up your ass when i told you that 'fuck up one more time, and i'm done'. i hope your realise it now, 'cause," you gesture at the both of you, "look at us."
you could feel your muscles crackle with fatigue, your eyes blinking as submerging you into short flashes of darkness. draining the drink down your throat, kylian's eyes bore into your head, and you could feel it against your skin. it's hot, visceral, and it's then you knew you needed him out.
yawning, you said, "just... leave please, kylian."
sinking, weighing dread was how he could describe his defeat. you had completely gotten over him, cut him off and was ready to move on. but he knew it would take him years, if he ever did, to get over you.
you flowed through his veins with undying vehemence, and kylian had no way to get you out.
his aching limbs arose from the sofa, pausing to stare at you as you remained seated, then walked away to the door.
"[y/n]?"
you looked up at him, "hm?"
"i love you. remember that."
then he's gone.
#work de aechii 🫧#kylian imagines#kylian x reader#kylian mbappe imagines#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe x you#x black reader#kylian mbappe#football imagines#footballer x you#footballer x reader
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frederick chilton friday currently in limbo because my train has been WAY held up due to a Police Situation at my station (not important though. frederick chilton importanter) and its nearly 10pm and ive missed my last bus and im TIRED so whether ill want to do it once im finally home is up in tje air but . we'll see. OKAY train is finally moving and my phone is almost dead and i need it to get home so STAY TUNED. yeehaw again
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I booked a ticket for an 11:50am train on Monday, that was set to arrive in Portland, Maine at 2:20pm. When I woke up, my bed was shaking from the rain and hurricane speed gusts pounding my walls. It's only a 10 minute walk to the orange line, with a direct train to North Station, but it was raining so hard I wasn't sure I could make it. I was about to call an Uber to the train station because I didn't think the weather was passable, when the rain let up. Seeing a window, I rushed to the station. I made it up my street, eventually, with my massive, heavy suitcase and tote bag. I had to stop a few times because while the rain let up, the wind did not, and at times it was so strong I simply could not move against it.
I made it to the Amtrak station with enough time to buy breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts, which proved to be fortuitous. They announced my train was delayed 40 minutes, though the board said 35 minutes at first and then finally updated. I got my laptop out to look for more information. They started boarding the train less than 40 minutes after it would normally have boarded and without announcing it, causing me to rush to the platform without stowing my laptop and still juggling my coffee. I made it safely to the train. Onboard, they told is to expect further delays.
We waited for a bit on the outskirts of the city, then started moving again. Sometime after the first station stop, our train stopped. They announced there was a power line on the track up ahead. We waited for a while, then were informed the line could not be cleared until 8 or 9pm at the earliest, and they were returning us to the station stop in Haverhill, where we would get more information about our options. They said no buses were available. On our way there, they announced they would take us all the way back to Boston. A little later, they announced they had found buses, which would take us to Exeter, New Hampshire, where we could get back on a train that had been stuck on that side of the downed power line and continue on to the rest of the stops. Our buses were set to leave shortly after 3:45, so they could also take passengers from the 3:45pm train. We left about 3:55 and spent a while in traffic leaving Boston. My bus had also recently been a green line shuttle and still said green line, which made me nervous.
From this point on, my journey was failure smooth. The transfer to the train in Exeter was very fast. I cannot say enough about the Amtrak staff who were incredibly kind and helpful. I was on track to arrive in Portland at 7:20pm. I was, at this point, having a better day than the rest of my family.
Throughout all of this, I am staying in touch with my dad who's supposed to pick me up, and learn from him that 1) there is no power at my parents' house and 2) the pump failed and the basement is flooding. Meanwhile, my mom, who was returning from visiting my grandmother in Tennessee, made it to Philadelphia and learned her connecting flight to Portland was delayed. She eventually boarded the flight, and told us it was supposed to land at 5:15. By around 6pm, my texts were still not being opened, and I was starting to become concerned, when she was finally able to text again and told us she was in Manchester, to which I replied "...New Hampshire?"
Indeed, it was New Hampshire. The pilot had done three go-arounds trying to land in Portland, but was unable to do so safely due to the weather. It was a small plane, and the weather was very rough, and apparently the plane was sideways at one point. Finally, the pilot diverted to Manchester and landed safely there. At this point, my sibling had picked me up from the train station, and we were waiting in Portland. The weather improved and the pilot got clearance to go back to Portland, but first had to wait for refueling. We finally collected my mom and went home to eat grocery store sushi for dinner at 10pm in our cold, dark house. This was a surprise for my dad who we lost contact with after his phone finally ran out of battery.
We were able to borrow a generator to get a new pump running and begin pumping out the basement. We finally got power back around 8pm on Tuesday. The furnace is in the basement and is still drying, but we have space heaters and separate heaters in a couple attached parts of the house.
Also my mom had to go to work today, without being able to take a shower because we had no hot water, and less than 24 hours after being tossed around in an airplane. On the plus side, her office had electricity. There's flooding all over, tons of roads are closed, and temperatures are dropping below freezing. But we have power now so I'm pretty happy!
#we were making plans to keep the pipes from freezing if we didn't have power#5 hour delay and bus detour and yet the train was STILL the better option over air travel in all of this
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I’m checking in on this space every day, but haven’t had a lot of words to write.
My dad is still here. It’s weird waiting on death. I’m spending quite a bit of time with him but life also gets in the way and it’s never as much as I would like. He’s declining but still up and walking around at home, and eating and drinking. We can no longer go out to eat with him. He often needs to be fed food if it requires utensils. These are things that have changed over the past month or so.
Summer school ends for me this week. I’m planning to submit final grades on Saturday and then take some real time off.
Ms. 6 turns 18 in about two weeks. It feels oddly empowering. She has been lording a lot over us for the past ten months. In some ways, her being 18 means we have more power and it’s messed up, but I’m grateful. I think she’s super depressed but every time I broach the subject with her she vehemently denies it and shuts down the conversation.
My mom is celebrating her birthday this weekend. I know we all feel the lasts with my dad. There is a lot of sad.
H and E both have summer jobs. One has a lawn care business and one is walking dogs. We have also gone on the list to be a foster home for kittens with our local animal shelter. So far no calls.
Baby is slated to begin play-based therapy this summer. I am holding out hope that it will be helpful. I’m not sure what else to try. He’s in a morning basketball camp this week and next. Then we are moving onto swim lessons.
NB wrapped up daycare for good last week. He’s moving into all day 4k in the fall. Holy smokes—are we done paying for daycare for forever?! Feels like a major win!
Our kids finished school last week. DS completed his driver’s ed class. He doesn’t even need to take a test at the DMV. DH and I can just say he took the class and did his hours with us, and boom! He gets a drivers license! He’s probably not quite there yet, but he’s close. I had him drive home from the Milwaukee on the interstate the other day and he did great. I need to see if he knows how to parallel park. He seems like a decent driver but still wants a lot of coaching from me and it is a lot for him to attend to at once. I’m unsure if that’s the ADHD or just inexperience, but thinking about directions, turn signals, accelerating vs braking, etc. is a lot for him to keep in his brain at one time.
DH is working a summer job at a fancy resort as a banquet server. Someone tipped us off that there is good money to be made in tips. The hours are great for summer: 2-10pm. They trained him as a server and bar tender. Busy weeks are just beginning and his first paycheck is tomorrow so we will see what happens. I’m glad he has some money coming in and glad it works in terms of the schedule.
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We went to Cecilia's funeral this week in a marathon late-night train ride, 8am subway to cathedral where queers with their tits out got to shout Puta!! Whore! Santa Cecilia in front of flustered priests, midday repass/dance party at nowadays, zoom class on primarily the ICJ back in ridgewood and then the the 10pm chinatown bus home. A and I travel well together but also have a tendency to punk it if the alternative isn't cheap or convenient enough. I ran into the hot girl I fucked in a tent this summer and her new girlfriend as they were leaving the repass to go get the mdma they had left at home. She said can we make out or is that not polite in front of your partner right now? I said next time. On the wild bus home fights nearly broke out about seating arrangements and someone went into the bathroom to smoke what felt like a whole pack of cigarettes. One man spent most of the 4 hour ride on a speakerphone conversation I kept jotting down tidbits of. He was flirt-fighting with a woman baby, what you mean if I smash your friends we can't be friends?...baby I'm trying this "open relationship" shi-t. you ain't even my babymova yet I ain't even nut in you all the way!! ...baby...you love me you stress me, you love me you stress me. A passed out and I tried to drift to a podcast, though we both intermittently woke up to what sounded like phone speaker porn from the self-same row. The train is a significantly more comfortable and even pleasureable experience, but we both agreed that Cecilia would have approved of the whole nasty thing, even the getting dropped off in Baltimore on the dark side of a road off the highway by the bus driver. When I finally got home, I found a naked, undeposited check on the shelf by my back door made out from my father to me, dated 2017 for 50 dollars to help buy my mom a birthday present that year. I've no idea where this could have come from - I haven't even owned my current car that long. Sunday is 2 years since he died. The ghosts feel so active right now, like they're screaming.
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