#so used to being thrown around without any real care

[armiliadawn]

Let Me Take Care of You

Word count: 1900

Masterlist

Notes: A small, very light and cute one-shot in response to a post I saw a while ago. I really love Katakuri, and I’ve been wanting to write for him for a while, but I didn’t have a real project involving him. So when I saw your post, @mew-ya , I decided to go for it. I found your idea adorable, and it inspired this piece. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless. I’m taking this chance to say that I really love your art, and your OC Maren is so cool! I absolutely love the duo he forms with Katakuri! 😍

Tags: Katakuri x gn!Reader, fluff, comfort, reader needs rest, SFW. English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You’ve lost track of the days.

Since the failure of Pudding’s wedding, chaos has taken over Whole Cake Island, and rumors of the Charlotte Family’s disgrace are spreading like wildfire across the seas of the New World.

Alliances have been shaken, mistrust is eating away at the bonds woven between the different factions, and the pressure on Big Mom’s powerful family has become unbearable.

You were thrown into this turmoil immediately.

Your days blur together without pause, dictated by tense meetings, endless negotiations, and discussions where every word is carefully weighed. Even though she is not currently on the island, the Empress’s shadow looms over every exchange, and the slightest misstep could prove fatal.

But it’s not just the allies you have to deal with.

The Charlotte family members themselves have become more demanding, more impatient. They want guarantees, results, immediate solutions. You barely have time to breathe between requests.

"Prepare a detailed report on this week’s commercial movements." "We need to review the treaty conditions, make sure the new proposals are drafted by tomorrow." "Tell the cook I want a special dessert, now." "Why hasn’t this file been sent yet?" " The ministers of Totto Land are meeting in an hour, make sure everything is ready.."

Each demand piles on top of the last, forming a mountain of responsibilities that never seems to shrink.

You barely sleep, sometimes you forget to eat, but you don’t have the luxury of slowing down.

As Katakuri’s spouse, you cannot afford to fail.

Fortunately, you are never truly alone. There is always someone – or rather something – there to assist you without you even needing to lift a finger.

The Homies are everywhere around you. These little sentient beings, created by Big Mom, seem to anticipate your every need.

When you sit at your desk, a chair slides under you before you even pull it out.

When you reach for a pen, one of them is already handing it to you, practically vibrating with enthusiasm at the idea of serving you.

When an endless discussion with influential members of the Charlotte family leaves your throat dry, a cup of hot tea magically appears on the table in front of you, placed on a tray by a Homie who doesn’t say a word, preferring to slip away as soon as its task is complete.

If your stomach lets out a quiet growl - which you usually ignore, too focused on your work - a plate of food is suddenly placed beside you. Carefully chosen snacks, never too heavy, just enough to give you a boost of energy without forcing you to stop for too long. You’ve gotten used to eating without thinking, mechanically swallowing whatever is placed in front of you between two paragraphs, two reports, two meetings.

The Homies chatter cheerfully and frenetically around you, and you absentmindedly nod in acknowledgment, accepting what they offer without truly paying attention.

Everything is fluid, organized, almost too perfect. You never have to ask for anything. Everything you need is already there. You accept this silent help as a given, without questioning its origin, without even imagining that someone might be behind it all.

And yet…

That night, you are far too absorbed in your work to wonder about this strange phenomenon.

For weeks, you’ve been stringing together meetings and negotiations with relentless discipline. You barely sleep, you forget to eat, and whenever Katakuri tries to remind you to take a break, you always give him the same answer:

"I’m fine."

No.

You are not fine.

He has been watching you for days, waiting.

Each night, you stay awake long after Katakuri returns from his own missions. Sometimes, he finds you still sitting at your desk at dawn, dark circles under your eyes, fingers tightly gripping a pen or a stack of documents.

Katakuri is not a man of many words. He prefers to observe, to understand. He knows how to spot a crack before it becomes a fracture, how to anticipate a collapse before it’s too late.

And everything about you screams collapse.

He saw it in your posture, more tense than before. In your breathing, shorter. In your hands, trembling ever so slightly, a movement so subtle that no one else would notice.

But he sees everything.

He has been watching you, silently. He knows that look, the look of someone refusing to admit they are pushing past their own limits. He has seen it too often in himself, in his brothers and sisters… but seeing it in you is unbearable.

That night, it’s the last straw.

He comes back late from a mission and, just as he expected, you’re still awake, hunched over a desk buried under paperwork. You don’t even lift your head when he enters.

"You’re home late," you remark absentmindedly, scribbling something on an urgent mission report.

He doesn’t answer.

He has stopped in front of your desk, observing you in silence. He doesn’t need words to understand.

He has watched you exhaust yourself day after day, the fatigue deepening under your eyes, the stiffness settling into your body. He has noted every little sign: the dark circles, the slight thinness of your fingers, the way your shoulders tense under stress.

You want to be perfect.

You want everything to be under control, every task carried out with impeccable precision. Because you refuse to be a burden. Because you refuse to let anyone doubt your worth.

He knows this obsession. He knows what it’s like to want to be infallible.

But he also knows what it costs.

He steps closer and gently takes hold of your wrist, stopping your frantic movements. When he lifts your chin with his other hand to lock eyes with you, his expression is filled with concern.

His skin is warm against yours.

"You’re trembling," he states.

You pull slightly against his grip, trying to free yourself. But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, doesn’t try to restrain you—only to hold you there, to make you understand that he won’t let this slide.

"I’m fine," you breathe out.

A lie.

Again.

And he’s had enough of hearing them.

"Did you take the time to eat properly today?" he asks.

Your gaze wavers.

"How much sleep have you gotten this week?"

You finally pull away, barely concealing your frustration.

"Kata, I don’t have time to rest. I have to make sure everything runs smoothly. The family has already suffered enough losses, I can’t…"

"You can’t what?"

He interrupts you, his voice slightly sharper. He doesn’t need to raise his tone.

"You can’t show the slightest weakness? Do you think that’s what will prove you deserve your place here?"

You clench your teeth.

"I have to be up to the task. After the disaster of Pudding’s wedding, we have to prove that we are still reliable. You don’t understand…"

"Don’t talk to me as if I don’t know what it means to carry a burden."

Silence falls. He still doesn’t break eye contact.

Then, without warning, he moves around the desk and lifts you effortlessly, his movements fluid and controlled. A small gasp of surprise escapes you, but he doesn’t give you the chance to protest further.

"Kata! Put me down right now, I have work to do!"

"No. Not tonight!"

His tone is firm.

He doesn’t slow down as he carries you away from your desk.

With slow but determined steps, he crosses the room. Every muscle in his body seems tense, not with anger, but with unwavering resolve and he gently sets you down on the couch before disappearing into the adjacent room.

You hear faint sounds: the opening of a cupboard, the soft clinking of porcelain.

A few moments later, he returns. In one hand, a thick, warm blanket. In the other, a steaming cup of tea.

Without a word, he drapes the blanket over you. Then, he places the cup in your hands. The contact of the warm ceramic against your fingers sends a slight shiver through you. You want to protest, to argue that you don’t need this, that you have to get back to work. But the moment the warmth of the cup seeps into your hands, something inside you cracks.

An invisible tension you weren’t even aware of carrying begins to fade, little by little. Your back, usually rigid and straight, sinks slightly against the couch. You slowly lower your gaze to the cup.

And suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The Homies who always seem to know exactly what you need. The snacks that appear without you asking. The supplies, the reports, the documents that always seem to be within reach.

It wasn’t coincidence.

It wasn’t just the Homies diligently doing their jobs.

It was him.

Katakuri.

Since the very beginning, he had made sure you ate, even when you were too absorbed in your work to think about it. He had ensured you stayed hydrated, that your belongings remained in order, that nothing was missing.

He had anticipated your every need, orchestrating everything in the shadows, without ever expecting anything in return. Without even telling you.

You slowly lift your eyes to him.

He says nothing.

He stands there, tall and imposing, arms crossed, watching you with that unwavering, piercing gaze. But there is no reproach, no irritation in his expression.

Only patience. And determination.

"You lecture me when I skip a meal, when I don’t get enough sleep… But what about you? Who takes care of you?"

You lower your eyes, unable to respond.

Because he’s right.

He sighs again and settles next to you. Then, to your great surprise, he loosens the scarf covering his face and lets it fall onto his lap.

This simple gesture is a silent declaration of trust, a way to show you that you are important enough for him to lower this barrier. One that he never lets down in front of anyone.

Katakuri never shows his face.

Even in your presence, he always ensures he stays in the shadows. He doesn’t want you to see him too clearly. He doesn’t want to witness that flicker of fear or disgust he has seen far too many times in others’ eyes. Even though you have told him, again and again, that his face neither frightens nor repulses you.

But that’s not the kind of thing one believes easily after a lifetime of rejection.

So, he never responded.

He never told you that he believes you, that he accepts your words.

But to you, it isn’t necessary. He doesn’t need to say it. You have understood for a long time that his scarf is not just an accessory.

It is his wall.

His shield.

And yet, tonight, he lets it fall.

Not for just anyone.

For you.

Right now, in this moment, there are no negotiations, no reports to write, no alliances to manage. There is only him, you, and this bubble of quiet he is trying to offer you.

He gently removes the cup from your hands and sets it on the table beside you.

Then, without a word, he reaches for the blanket he gave you earlier and wraps it around both of you, pulling you close to ensure the warmth envelops you both.

You take a deep breath, and the familiar scent of Katakuri soothes you more than you’d like to admit.

Little by little, your resistance fades. Your body gives in to exhaustion, and you let yourself lean into him.

You fought sleep for a moment, your mind still reluctant to completely surrender, but one last glance at him was enough to make you understand.

You can finally let go in complete safety.

Katakuri will not leave.

He will watch over you.

As he always has, in silence, in the shadows, without ever asking for recognition.

Tag list : @jintaka-hane @novemberhope @imveryyellow @lxshoxk @fanaticsnail @daydreamer-in-training @pandora-writes-one-piece Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be added (or removed) from the tag list.

[djcandiepaws]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ yandere! male siren x human!reader

summary: you're sailing in the sea until tragedy strikes cw: death

post it notes: i'm not that proud of this but oh well, also this is loosely based off of an ASMR siren vid i had watched 2 yrs ago by kaitlynn rhenea ^_^

The last thing you remember is your ship crashing into long sharp rocks and the ship tilting over. You thought it was the end. Well, at least it should've been.

You feel your body being rattled and then an unfamiliar voice starts talking. "Hey! Wake up.." Wait, you're not dead? Your eyes flutter open and your eyes widen. Oh my god, wait, what is THAT?!

You scream and move away and farther into the sand from what looks like, a mermaid? Or perhaps, a merman? Your elders at your homeland always used to tell you stories about sirens and mermaids. You always assumed it was supposed to scare you out of sailing but you didn't expect them to actually be real! "There's no need to be afraid!" He says as he reaches his arms out to you.

"Also, do you feel hurt anywhere? I swam pretty fast out there, I hope I didn't accidentally hit you against any rocks!" He says frantically looking around your body for bruises or blood.

You open your mouth to speak, "I'm fine, thank you... Are.. are you a mermaid?" You begin to move closer to him to get a better look at his tail. "Well... I mean.. Yeah, sure."

"You know, one of the reasons as to why I saved you is because while you were drowning I saw you had a backpack full of shiny things and y'know.. I really like shiny things.." He giggles while saying. He then reaches his hand out, I'm guessing for you to hand over your backpack? "You don't mind, right?" He swipes the backpack away without caring for your answer and soon after he gasps!

You smile, "I don't mind at all, help yourself to look at them!" "Ugh, you're so sweet, you know that?" He scavenges in your backpack and finds 3 pretty minerals. "Ooo! These are so pretty. And there's more of them! Where do you find such pretty items?" "When my dad doesn't feel like giving me gifts for my birthday, he usually gives me a mineral."

"Interesting! Can I have them?" You're taken aback by the suggestion.. "I found them.. So they're mine.." You're a bit sorry for rejecting him but what else can you say? They're yours! "I like that they're yours, but you said you're dad found it through water diving, and I live in the sea so technically, by default, they're actually mine. Thank you for finding them!" He says as he takes them from your bag and sets it on the sand.

You know what, it's fine. Your dad will get you more when you go back to land, plus he'll find you way more than 3.

Though, while you're thinking about your dad, panic sets in. "Oh my god.. Where are the crew members?" You start hyperventilating and tears start to form. "Oh.. well uh, there were a lot of people who died instantly due to the force of the crash, and a lot of people got thrown overboard and I'm only one si- uh, merman. So, y'know unfortunately you were the only person that I could've saved." Tears start forming in your eyes. The crewsmen were on that ship. They have families, friends, and loved ones, or, well, had.

"Don't cry, pretty! At least you're alive. At least, you have closure about what happened. You know, the crew's families won't." He says trying to comfort you but ultimately falling flat. "No, they will have closure. Take me back to land." You demand from him.

"You're joking right? I swim fast but I don't think I can swim THAT fast to get you back to your land... How about you stay here for a few until we can come up with a solid plan to get you back?" He smiles.

Nervously, you start talking, "I guess that could work but.. How will I survive here? There doesn't seem like there isn't any food so far and.. You're a mermaid, it's not like we can stick together since you're always in water.." "It's okay! I'll sleep near the land and I'll try to catch some fish for you to eat, and I'll check up on you always!"

"Trust me, you'll be fine! How about you go find some sticks and I'll catch some fish for you to cook and eat. I'll be back soon!"

You get up and go explore around the island. Hopefully you don't stay here for long, to be honest, you're not sure if you trust the mermaid. Your grandparents used to entrance you with tales about how sirens and mermaids are selfish creatures that will do anything for their own benefit. Now that you know for a fact that they're real, how do you know that he won't turn on you? Guess only time will tell.

[witherfide]

oh, Simon yearns so much.

won’t even give himself the chance to entertain the thought of pursuing anyone, let alone the man that’s kept him on his feet since day one. locks that part of himself away as soon as he feels the ache. that deep, carnal want that eats away at his resolve each time they brush paths. when a solid hand finds his shoulder. when they sit with a nice tea and just, talk. those eyes that linger on him during the quietest evenings. he ignores it. the lump that builds inside his lungs with each word gone unsaid. doesn’t get him anything but blood on his hands and bodies at his feet.

Simon being so greedy when he finally sinks his teeth in. body going off pure, raw instinct. a starved animal getting its fill. tears spilling from the overwhelming shame that burns his throat. his actions coated in the grime of sin churning his stomach into knots. the reverent path of soft finger tips against his keloid-risen skin the only solace against his mind. his captain, his saviour. a steady beacon of light to guide him home.

[lymtw]

Satoru who is just so obsessed with you and actually becomes somewhat jealous when others make you laugh to the point where you're blushing. He's quick to misunderstand a situation when it comes to men getting overly comfortable with you. From what you understand, the jealousy doesn't run deep, but he does wonder sometimes—stupidly, if someone else will catch your eye and test your fidelity to him.

"How is it being with Gojo all the time? I get seeing him at work, but going home with him and spending all your time together...? It's got to be exhausting, no?"

This nobody doesn't even know Satoru. He's never gotten near him—never even spoken a word to him. It's infuriating that he even assumed you're exhausted from spending time with the person you the love the most, but you smile anyway, and respond as politely as you can.

"Satoru can be a handful at times, but that's one of the many things I love about him. He's funny, and even though sometimes he acts like he runs around without a brain, he is one of the smartest men I know. He takes care of me." You chuckle, recalling a warm, fond memory.

Satoru watches your conversation with the man from the bar on the other side of the room. He sees you smiling and nodding, and his heart starts beating faster. He understands that he has to keep his cool. What is he missing that you can find in someone else? You're with him for a reason, and you've never been one to hide things from him. There's no need to feel insecure.

He knows he can't stop you from talking with other people. You can interact with whoever you want because his jealousy isn't to be mistaken with control, but it's hard not to stay by your side all the time. You've never given him any reason to doubt the strength of your relationship, but he just doesn't trust other men around you. He knows men are dogs, chopping it up with any pretty girl with no regards to whether they're in a relationship or not. What he does know is that he wholeheartedly trusts you. You would let him know if someone was taking it too far, wouldn't you?

VS

Satoru who is so obsessed with you and content with the fact that you are almost always within arms reach of him. He feels so secure knowing he gets to leave work with you every day only to spend more time with you at home.

At night, you lay facing each other, one of your legs thrown over his hip and one of his hands running up and down your waist. You talk about insignificant things that result in significant memories. You whisper and giggle about the dumbest things, until your sentences don't make sense because of how tired both of you are. You cling onto him and tell him you love him, lazy kisses pressed to his lips with every cliffhanging word that is threatened by sleep.

On lazy Sunday afternoons, you lie in bed together watching scary movies. He knows the plots aren't real, and that the monsters and hideous things that appear aren't real either, but your fear of them is. He purposely chooses these movies because he knows you won't focus on them and turn to give him all the attention when you're too scared. Anything to distract you from the terrifying things that are seemingly about to pop out of the screen. While he pretends he's focusing on the movie, he grins as you begin to shower him with your affectionate kisses. One for his neck, one for his cheek, oh... there goes another one for his neck. He lays there, a few chuckles slipping when you kiss his chin and his nose. You mumble little sweet nothings to him that have him grinning ear to ear. He can physically feel the love you hold for him and it's heavenly.

Satoru loves that you've always been shy about your needs. He loves the way you react when he kisses you anywhere that isn't your face. He knows neck kisses are a weakness for you and he uses that knowledge against you when he wants to see you get flustered.

He'll come up behind you, put his hands on your waist and start kissing your shoulder, slowly trailing the sweetness towards your neck. He knows he's affecting you because after a minute of him mouthing up your sensitive points, you stopped what you were doing and just felt him. His hands peel your shirt off your stomach and glide upward, towards your chest. He can hear your shaky breathing more clearly.

"'toru?" You call, meekly, your hands clenched into fists.

"Hm?" He gives your breasts a squeeze, not letting up on his work on your neck.

"Satoru," you repeat, clear surrender in your tone. You use his full first name to grab his attention, yet it still sounded so sweet.

"You can do it, baby. Tell me what you want."

You get so nervous when he starts talking like this. It makes your chest feel tight, and your stomach swarms with butterflies. You want to run away, but his hands are so warm and he's holding you like you're the most fragile thing to ever exist.

You turn around and quickly bury your face in his chest. Satoru caught a glimpse of the rosiness dusting your cheeks, and the tips of your ears were noticeably glowing, the cute reactions earning a chuckle from him. His hands dragged down your back, and he palmed your ass before going slightly lower to clasp around the backs of your thighs. He lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

"My pretty girl is so shy. Don't worry, I know what you like," he says, directing both of you to the bedroom.

[halfmoonshines]

Just Damon being soft and protective with his gf please! :) love ur work

love this and love you!

only you

damon salvatore x f!reader

summary: Damon only ever had that smile for you.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You groaned as you trekked behind the group, fully convinced that this could not get any worse. Not only was the southern heat creating a shine of sweat on your skin, but the constant bickering from the rest of your cohort was driving you crazy.

"If you're annoyed Elena, imagine how the vampires feel. We could've just zipped through the woods without you guys." Caroline made an excellent point.

"So why did we even come?" Your question was exasperated and Damon's light laugh came from behind you, one of his hands coming to rest on your lower back.

"The more eyes there are, the more likely we are to find this tomb." Stefan replied.

"I would argue that you guys could've covered five times as much ground by this point if we weren't slowing you down." You paused your walk for a moment, head thrown back to try and gulp in some of the balmy air.

That air promptly left your lungs, however, when Damon swept you into his arms. You couldn't help but shriek a bit, hastily wrapping your arms around his neck. "Damon. I'm sticky and stinky."

He raised an eyebrow at you, lips arranging themselves in a mirthful smile. "My favorite version of you."

Caroline shook her head violently. "Ew, guys."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

The darkness in the room was almost suffocating you but you didn't have the strength to not suffer inside of it. You didn't know how long you had been sitting there, or when it had gotten so bad, but somewhere along the way you had stopped caring.

You had days like this sometimes, where your mental health was virtually nonexistent and you would rather sit alone in the dark with your thoughts rather than flick the light on and reveal the very real things behind those thoughts.

You vaguely heard the door open downstairs, and Damon's voice was like a lance through the fog in your mind. "Babe? Are you upstairs?"

You stayed silent though, brow furrowing while you tried to overcome the block in your brain that was stopping you from speaking. All that came was a frustrated sigh.

That was enough for the vampire, who quickly appeared in your room, seeming unperturbed by the thick blanket of darkness and despair. He came to sit next to you on the edge of the bed, hand finding yours to interlace your fingers.

"Bad brain day?" His tone was gentle, not a hint of judgement tinged into it. You appreciated that.

You gave a nod, slumping into the safety of his arms. He was always so sturdy, a rock against whatever storm you encountered.

He hummed low in his throat and pulled you both back onto the bed, turning on the fairy lights hanging around the room and tucking you under his chin.

That was where you laid for hours before he convinced you to have dinner, more than happy to let you feel whatever you needed.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"Are we sure that she is not going to lose her mind when she finds us doing this?" Damon sounded incredibly unsure, paintbrush dangling from his fingers.

You discarded your own, placing hands on hips before you replied. "It's washable paint and it's Caroline's 18th birthday!! Decorating her car is a great idea, trust me."

He raised an eyebrow at you and approached, coming chest to chest and threatening to get the paint dripping from his brush onto you. "Painting the most OCD Barbie I know's car as a surprise? Seems risky."

Your smile was devilish in return. "Since when does a little risk scare you, Salvatore?" You had barely finished your sentence before a gasp escaped, a line of paint now going down your cheek.

"Literally never." He lunged away as you grabbed for him, and you ended up painting yourselves much more than you touched the car.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

[asha-mage]

February couldn't let me go without one final sucker punch to the gut so naturally I'm coping by thinking about gay people in fantasy and/or historical settings, so have this thought-

One of the inherent erotic tensions in Arthur and Merlin's relationship is that Arthur, as a future sovereign, is wedded to the realm. This is a common motif in monarchies, and was most famously used by Elizabeth I to defend her legitimacy in the face of her choice not to marry. This relates to Arthur's relationship with Merlin because Merlin is the land. I've joked that Merlin is the divine right of kings in human form but the clear subtext throughout the show is that Merlin is the living embodiment of Albion's magic. He is Emerys a figure of awe to the druids. He is last of the Dragonlords, and the chosen one of Kilgarah's prophecy and he is bursting with so much magic that he can barely control it. He is one with the land because magic is one with the land. He is wild and untamed impossible to control, and with is own sense of rules and balance justice- literally everything about magic that Uther hates and tries to repress.

And it makes a perverse sense that the show's corner stone is his and Arthur's relationship. Arthur is the future king- in a very real way he and Merlin are already married, bound together inextricably. Merlin has the power to reach out and destroy Arthur at any time, as easy as closing his hand and he doesn't, because he believes in him and cares for him and knows he can save them all. If that ever stops being true- if that relationship ever falls apart that's it. Merlin could walk away at any time and that's the end of Camelot, of Albion, of destiny. He doesn't even have to kill Arthur, just leave him to reap what Uther has sown, because without Merlin around to shield Arthur, the consequences of Uther's hate would kill Arthur a hundred times over. The true struggle in the series isn't against Morgana, or Mordred, or anyone else. It's in weather or not Merlin's belief in Arthur can withstand whatever can be thrown against it.

And the tragedy is that it does, and that still isn't enough to save either of them in the end. Merlin will never stop believing in Arthur, never stop loving him. Arthur is the ultimate king and Merlin is the avatar of the land he rules over and they are two sides of the same coin, to halves of legend still waiting to be told, a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

Arthur is the once and future king, and Merlin is the elder god of a land still yearning and crying out for his return.

[infimace-blog]

Thinking about rap as a technical artform and rap as a cultural artform, with respect to Tumblr's incompetence at dealing with either. Tumblr can just barely grasp the former because, like all forms of Black music, it's been repackaged in various ways that are more palatable to to white audiences. I talked last month about how what Tumblr was calling rap while trying to defend its taste in music is more akin to filk songs, but I should admit, sometimes Tumblr cites people who actually rap. It doesn't fix the problem or absolve them of their bullshit, but it is true.

The failure then becomes an inability to recognize or care about how rap functions culturally.

People on Tumblr will take Dungeon Meshi and intricately pick apart how a single chapter connects back to real-world neurodivergence issues and the cultural differences between the West and the East when it comes to handling them, and then look at any given rap song and assume it's skin-deep. Unless it's Hamilton back in the late 2010s, before we all decided it was cringe, in which case they'll gladly dig into the history of the early USA and, like the play itself, sidestep the racism whenever possible.

Take Weird Al, one of the many names that's been thrown around in Kendrick and Drake's wake. Weird Al is technically a rapper. He has done rap. We cannot ignore that as a factual statement. He's not even that bad as a rapper. But he has no engagement with rap as a cultural object; he engages with the artform as a parodist. "Amish Paradise", probably Weird Al's most popular rap parody, doesn't say anything; it's here to riff on a religious minority. But you dig into it just a little and you can see the kind of complexity that Tumblr usually loves to talk about. The song is, after all, a parody of Coolio's Grammy-winning "Gangster's Paradise", which is literally about being a black man in an environment dominated by organized crime and fearing the constant threat of death in that life, but was also created specifically for the movie Dangerous Minds, a middling white savior movie about Michelle Pfeiffer teaching a bunch of bad stereotypes of what people think inner city non-white students are. A movie that was, in turn, based on a white woman's memoirs about teaching in a bad school near San Francisco. You've got this interplay between a white woman's real-life efforts to teach her black and Latino students (I can't speak to how effective she was, mind you), a fictionalized version of that same woman being shown as the sole guiding light for her underdeveloped gangbanging students - and a white actress's crappy Kipling-ass 5/10 film getting Coolio his Grammy. It was tailor-made to be Coolio's big hit with white audiences, getting the push of Michelle Pfeiffer, having slow and deliberate rapping, and lacking the swearing in most of Coolio's oeuvre (Stevie Wonder mandated no swearing in return for letting Coolio sample his music). And, though I suspect this was unintentional, the song plays into the same narrative that the movie does, how this rapper is doomed to his life because "nobody's there to teach [him]", with dramatic choir and strings underscoring the dire fate that awaits this rapper if some charitable white person doesn't help him - the same dramatic choir and strings that Weird Al uses for comedic effect by comparing it to Amish farmwork.

I put that last paragraph together with two or three hours of Wikipedia, and you can do the same kind of analysis with a lot of hit rap songs (and Genius is right there if you need a helping hand - I wouldn't have understood much of Kendrick's Euphoria without it), and I think this drives a lot of my frustration? Tumblr loves to see something cool and then take a few days to write an in-depth post about how cool it is under the surface. So the lack of this when it comes to rap does show a deep disinterest in thinking about it when it isn't fun. And there's so much cool shit to learn about rap. Did you know that Baby Got Back was inspired by the anti-black fatphobia Sir Mixalot's model girlfriend was dealing with in her industry, and was pushing back against the media's general preference for skinny white women? Did you know that there's a Turkish hip-hop scene specifically in Germany because, as a minority that was brought to the country for cheap labor and then forced to exist as second-class citizens, they ended up relating a lot to the music? Just. Dig a bit. There's so much.

[wandaslittlelove]

Heyyy I don’t know if you write for Protective!Agatha Harkness but if you do

Can I request Agatha x reader?? Maybe they in a romantic relationship before the road. In the final battle, Agatha asks to reader to close her eyes for her because everything is too violent. Also, indicate Reader to run when she orders without looking back but Reader stays because she wants to help Agatha 😭😭

Close Your Eyes

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha harkness x Rio vidal (In past) Warnings: Fighting, blood, I think that's all

“Close your eyes” Agatha whispers gently as her hands come up to your face. She’s injured and bleeding. The tiny cuts all over her body aren’t enough to do any real harm but they’re enough for her to feel them. Her fingers wipe away the tears that fall down your face. “Close your eyes and when I tell you to go you run. You run and don’t look back, do you understand?” a whimper made its way past your lips as you gripped her shirt tightly. You both knew it was only a matter of seconds before Rio came back.

Billy stood a few steps back ready to blast Agatha whenever she was ready. He had never seen her like this. The closet would be when he was almost about to die while on the road but he thought it was all a show. But now seeing how gentle she was with you and the way she was scared he knew that she had a heart. 

Rio made her way out of the home ready to strike. Agatha quickly moved you out of the way.

“Close your eyes. Now” You did as told. You could hear Billy grunting a bit as Agatha drained his magic. After a moment of fighting and lots and lots of insults being thrown back and forth a single word escapes Agatha’s mouth. “Run!” She yells. Your mind tells you to obey. To run and not look back. But suddenly it’s like you can’t move. Instead your eyes fly open. Agatha looks a lot better. She’s no longer covered in so many cuts but she is very clearly worn out. She isn’t used to battling anymore. Not after the three years she spent powerless. Before you know it you're throwing your body infront of Agatha’s. Rio stops as her posture stiffens. As much as she hates you for stealing Agatha’s heart. From taking her from her this fight is between the three of them. She does not want to face whatever consequences would come from taking you before it was your time. For a moment everything is silent. Your brain moves so fast it’s hard to keep up with all the thoughts. You can feel Agatha trying to pry into your mind. To figure out what you're thinking and planning but you block her out.

“Take me.” You say desperately. You honestly didn’t care that much for the teenager. He had caused such a mess. Gotten two of your coven members killed. But Agatha liked him. Agatha cared for him and you would be damned if she lost another son. Agatha quickly grabs onto your arm as she pulls you back.

“Absolutely not. You will take me and leave them be.” Rio looks conflicted for a moment before her face hardens once again. She brings her hands back and then with a harsh punch forward green magic goes flying towards Agatha. A scream escapes you as you shout.

“NO!” Quickly you jump in front of the incoming magic. The force of it sends you flying backwards harshly into a tree. Your whole body aches as you attempt to move. Once more trying to get up and defend Agatha. But her magic wraps around you holding you down.

“Stop Stop! Let’s… Let’s make a deal.” Her eyes shoot over to you as her magic continues to hold your place. There is blood running down the side of your head and your blink slowly at her. “You leave us be. And when a long time from now when I die. You can have me.” You go to say something but her magic keeps you quiet. Rio seems to ponder this all for a moment. Her eyes scanned all three of you. Billy had come to your side by now making sure you were okay. The air thick with tension as you all awaited Rio's response.

“Okay. When you die, which you will. You’ll be mine. Maybe I'll let you keep the pet.” Her words are venomous at the end as she glances at you but there is a bit of curiosity in her gaze. “Till then my love.” With that Rio plants a few flowers and then walks away. The sky that was once green and dark goes back to normal as she leaves.  Agatha lets out a sigh of relief as she quickly rushes to your side.

“You are so stupid” She hisses as she crouches next to you. She inspects the wound on your head and when she decides it’s not as bad as it looks she picks you up carefully. Your body screams in protest and you let out a whimper from the pain. “I know doll but I need to get you inside and cleaned up.” She carried you slowly towards the house and Billy helped to fix it up with his magic. 

Later that night you both lay in bed. Both clinging to each other tightly scared to let go. One hand is softly stroking your hair while the other rests on your heart feeling the steady beat of it. Your head lay on her chest listening to the beat of her heart and you focused on the rise and fall of her chest. You both were safe for now. You both were alive. You knew tomorrow she would go about packing and leaving. Rio knew where she was. You both would run far away. She would find a nice house and place runes around it. She would place runes on you. Anything to keep you safe.

[song-witch]

Fill Me Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: Southern Mommy Wanda. Fluff. Smut. Fingering (R receiving). Phone Sex (kinda?).

A/N: i don't like this but oh wellsies

Part One Part Two

“Well, howdy there, stranger.” Wanda hollered into the phone, a new smile crossing her lips.

It was more of a smirk, the right side of her smile lifting higher than the left. The opposite eyebrow raised, though it was mostly covered by the way her bangs fell over her forehead.

You could hardly focus on it, though, far too enraptured by the rather generous view her negligee gave you. She wasn’t wearing a bra, that much was evident, as they moved in time with her breathing and the movements of her hand. It was hypnotizing to say the least. You were glad she was holding your hand though, your other grasping the bed, limiting your temptation of reaching out.

Wanda’s hand moving up had you moaning, not caring about the phone on your chest. The woman above you had morals, though, and stopped moving her hand altogether, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Sorry hun, Y/n tripped over the dresser. Poor girl is so tired from her big day.” She tutted, a glare thrown your way. It was accompanied by a harsh shush under her breath. It made you shudder, your breath caught in your throat at the prospect of her stopping. Despite the dread that filled your stomach, you clenched around her fingers, just barely able to keep any sound from slipping out.

"Are you alright, darlin’?” Wanda added just moments later, clearly as a means to convince the woman on the phone that you were actually injured and not being, well… fucked. That didn’t stop her from mouthing words at you, just barely loud enough to hear the wispy ends of her letters.

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want your team hearing you, huh?” The woman pouted, sticking her bottom lip out just slightly.

You groaned softly, shaking your head in agreement. You still had no idea who she was calling or hell, even why she was on the phone while, well, knuckles deep in you, but if it made her happy, you’d do it.

“Good.” Wanda smirked before turning her attention back to the phone, her fingers twitching inside of you. It wasn’t enough, though, even as you began to shimmy your hips down, hoping she’d take some mercy on you. You had to hold back a gasp as she curled the very tips of her fingers, more than aware of the silent threat behind her words.

Once again, you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow as you let your body sink down onto the mattress. It was all you could do, as you couldn’t make any noise and you were too tired to even think about doing something to be punished.

The brunette made a clicking noise with her tongue, prompting you to look back up at her. She shook her head. You knew she wanted your eyes opened, based on how she widened her own. You let your head fall onto the pillow, whimpering softly as you maintained eye contact.

“You wanna say hi, hon? Of course! I mean, how rude of us to leave without so much as a goodbye!” Wanda’s voice was an air of giddiness you knew was half real half fake, a dash of something… adventurous in the sweet tang of her accent.

You cocked your head just slightly, eyebrows furrowing, teeth clenched together. It wasn’t the only thing clenching as the older woman continued to thrust into you.

"Say hi, baby.” The brunette smiled brightly at you, curling her fingers just right into you. The noises she pulled out of you were pathetic to say the least, little whines accompanying your gasps of air. You prayed that she hadn’t gotten her phone fixed from when she dropped it in the sink while soaking dishes. At least then, the mic on the damn thing would still be shitty.

“Hi.” It took three full lungfuls of air before you responded, a stillness in the air. Wanda wasn’t still by any means though, and kept her fingers thrusting at a slow but steady pace. It wasn’t enough to make you come, but fuck was she good with her fingers.

“Hiya theres, toots. Say, you keep giving speeches like that and I’d be the one dragging you home!” The voice was so familiar and even comforting to your ears, but your mind was so foggy that it was hard to think of who it was. You could picture her, though. Brown hair. Tall. Taller than both you and Wanda. Your book. She worked on your book. Edited it. Fuck.

“Well? What do you say, baby?” Wanda’s voice had turned from that sugar filled honey to a new kind of sweetness. She knew what she was doing. She only smiled as she thrust even harder, her thumb just barely swiping over your clit. You all but moaned, arching your back into the touch.

“T-Thank you.” You whimpered, biting harshly on your tongue. Wanda shook her head, stopping her fingers momentarily to pull her hand out of yours, brushing her free thumb over your lip. You pushed your head to the side just slightly, desperately trying not to close your eyes. It was hard, to say the least.

Wanda’s eyes were unnerving, though and, as much as most nights you wouldn't mind being bent over her knee, you were certain you'd break before she even touched you. Hell, she was more than touching you and you were seconds away from being overwhelmed.

"You okay there, sugar? Sounds like someone's a little worn out.” Wanda pouted, her lips pulled down into a frown that had her words mimicking her face. Your chest heaved under her, pulling deep breaths in and forcing them out slowly. You could only hope the woman would take pity on you.

“I-I’m okay. Tired.” You whimpered as Wanda’s fingers shiftly ever so slightly, tilting your hips up in an attempt to accommodate them. The brunette dragged her thumb back over your bottom lip, resting it there as she watched your mouth stay open. You let your jaw drop just slightly. You hadn’t noticed just how tense it had been. She was eerily good at making you realize things.

"She's just too cute. But I'll let you go, toots, this car isn't going to drive itself!” Agatha’s voice had you nearly weeping in relief, more than ready for this damn phone call to be over.

Wanda cooed, propelling her thumb forward enough to push past your lips, to which you happily obliged. You were sucking before you even thought about it, whimpering as her other fingers began moving once again.

“Have a good night, Agatha. Let us know when you get home.” Wanda’s entire body seemed to soften, her eyes squinting just slightly.

She looked at you as if you were her most valuable treasure, which, in some ways, you were. She had never ceased to brag about how lucky she was to find you, no matter how much you argued it was the other way around.

“Will do, hon. Tell Y/N I’ll see her later.” You weren’t even paying attention to the conversation at this point, your vision becoming fuzzy as you blinked up at Wanda. Her fingers reached up to splay against your check, rivaling the slow thrusts into you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hips bucking softly.

“Alright, buh-bye now.” Wanda spoke softly, a chuckle being pulled from her throat. You whined softly at the sound. She talked at you lovingly, her fingers dancing across your cheek as you continued to suck.

“That wasn't so hard now, was it, doll?” The softness of her voice continued to lull you, though your hips continued to move with her fingers.

You whimpered again, nodding at her words. She hummed under her breath as she gently took her thumb out of your mouth, instead running her fingers, sans thumb, through your hair. She merely shushed you when you whined at the loss.

“Open your eyes for me, love.” Her finger didn’t stop, a soft kiss being pressed against your forehead. She didn’t move as you began to open your eyes, her scent wafting over you. It was that earthy lavender you loved so much. She had sprayed it on your shirt that morning before leaving for “work,” knowing you’d need the support more than ever, not that she’d tell you what she had done.

"You’re so good for me, baby.” The woman’s voice deepened, a raspiness returning to it. You blinked softly at what you could see. A blush spread from your cheeks to your neck as the only thing you could see were her breasts through her negligee. You tilted your head up, attempting to seal your lips together with a whine as your hips started circling slowly.

“Mommy, please.” You whimpered against her lips, your hand she had left on the pillow snaking down to grasp onto the thin strap of her pajama top. You weren’t entirely sure what you were ever asking for. Just that you needed her. She seemed to understand, kissing back feverishly. It had your head spinning even more, gasping for breath before she was kissing your neck.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” Wanda murmured in your ear before pulling away, a smirk pulling across her lips once again. You nodded as fast as you could with how dazed you were. Your pointer finger slid between her shoulder and shirt strap, wanting nothing more than to pull it down and suck. The thought alone sent a thrill down your spine.

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Wanda tsked, her tone playful as a smile spread across her lips. You weren’t worried about her catching you staring; it wouldn’t be the first or last time, and you had caught the other woman doing the same plenty of times. If anything, it was only fair you got to, too. You complied though, your mouth dropping open in a slight pant at the sight of her. As soon as your eyes met hers, her grin widened, a thrust accompanying the look.

"Now, wasn’t that nice? Agatha callin’ to check up on you, pumpkin.” The woman pursed her lips together, her tone the same sticky sweet she used to tease you. There was nothing you could do to stop the moan that had been growing during the call from coming out, tossing your head back.

Wanda began thrusting into you with earnest, pushing a third finger in while simultaneously pulling your hand off of her. A continuous moan was bubbling out of your throat, a keening tone to it. Your body rocked in time with her hand, hips tilting up to meet her thrusts.

Everything inside you felt like it was on fire; from the way your forehead was covered in sweat, to the way your stomach tightened. Both you and Wanda knew it wouldn’t take much to make you cum.

“Mommy, mommy-” You began chanting the word over and over again, a particularly hard thrust forcing you to moan through an inhale. Your knees tried to lock behind her leg, thighs squeezing around her wrist.

Normally, she’d be pulling her hand away entirely, slapping your legs and pussy before reprimanding you because ‘you know better than that.’ The thought had you immediately parting your legs, though you clenched her fingers harder.

“You’re okay, sweet pea. Come for me, darlin’ girl.” Wanda’s lips returned to your forehead, kisses pressed against the sweaty skin. Your hips spasmed erratically as you chased your high, a string of unintelligible words leaving your mouth. Her thumb drew methodical circles on your clit, and you knew you were done for. Her fingers and thumb moved even faster as you ground down, your mouth opening and closing. Your back arched, pressing your bodies together.

“Oh my, oh my-” You cut yourself off with a cry, knowing that so much as another thrust would send you tumbling over the edge. Your fingers curled into the bedspread even tighter, holding on for dear life. Wanda’s thrusts got faster, repeatedly hitting the spot that made everything in you clench around her fingers. Her thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh circles into it.

“Let go, sweetheart. Mommy’s got you.” Wanda cooed, her voice completely contrasting her actions. There was nothing you could do other than to let it happen, your body tensing as you did what she said. You tossed your head back, letting out a high pitched wail as your orgasm washed over you, your body arching off the bed. Wanda continued to thrust, letting you ride the high out as she helped you through it.

“Shh, that’s my good girl. Mommy’s good little girl.” Wanda spoke softly as you came down from your high, her face suddenly much closer to yours as she hovered above you. Her fingers were still inside you, albeit hardly moving as you panted, eyes shut. Your hips jerked as waves of aftershock coursed through you. Wanda only shushed you, though, gently pressing her hips down to urge you back onto the bed.

“You did so good, baby. Mommy’s precious little girl.” You whined as she pulled her fingers out of you, your walls desperately clenching against nothing. You forced a deep breath out of you as you fully relaxed against the bed, your eyes fluttering open. It took all of two seconds before Wanda was kissing you. You sloppily kissed her back, easily letting her take full control.

You lazily made out for who knows how long, Wanda forcing you to finally unwind after your day. It wasn’t long before she was urging you up though, easily maneuvering you into the bathroom, encouraging you to use it before she cleaned you up.

As much as you would’ve loved nothing more than to sleep, Wanda’s concerns about you being fully taken care of and not developing an infection far outweighed your need to sleep. Besides, it meant she’d carry you back to bed before redressing you. A win was a win.

You were nodding off as she pulled you onto her chest, nestling your head against her neck. Everything about her enveloping her had you sighing, squirming just slightly against her body. You bit your lip, sluggishly tracing your hand down her body, playing with the elastic of her shorts. “Mommy, you-”

“Sleep, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. Little girls need their rest.” Wanda easily pulled your hand from her pelvis, instead letting it rest against the side of her chest that you weren’t lying on.

More often than not, you would’ve protested. Would’ve told her she took care of you too much and she deserved to cum too. You were too worn out though, and instead obliged, pushing your face further into her neck. She hummed softly, fingers combing through your hair as you easily drifted to sleep.

[themetalvirus]

how egghog silver and shadow realize something is wrong and how they run away. 2k words.

while eggman is gathering the chaos emeralds for a nefarious plot, silver enters the room where he's keeping them on his own. he thinks about something amy said about them being able to turn thoughts into power. if they're so powerful, maybe he could use them to see the future himself…

he puts his hands on them and thinks and hopes. he's trained and honed his powers for this, so it HAS to work. and it does – a portal opens. after a moment's hesitation, he takes the two chaos emeralds he used through the portal. he's glad he did, because the portal closes behind him.

suddenly he can't breathe. there's too much smoke and ash in the air, and his sensitive lungs are immediately very unhappy. as he's coughing and hacking, he notices just how barren everything is. how orange and dark. there are no people here, but there seems to be a lot of metal and machines. he wants to know what happened so he can better prevent this from happening, and in turn prevent his birth parents from suffering, prevent the pain of what happened to him from happening to anyone else by any means necessary. he seeks out a library or really anywhere with books. books are more reliable than people anyway. he's in luck and finds an old library with much of its delicate inventory undamaged by the fires, and he gets to work picking out everything that seems relevant in his pk before opening them in a circle around him twilight sparkle style and gets to skimming.

there's a lot of things about daddy. they are not flattering. there are a lot of mentions of him and his brothers. how they were such powerful tools that they were the key to eggman being able to destroy the world. he couldn't have done it without his sons.

silver doesn't take this well. he believes the book is propaganda or lies, but the more he reads, the more affirmations there are that this could be true. he's in denial, but he makes sure to put the books somewhere they won't burn before he heads outside and tries to find material proof that it's lies.

he flies around in a desperate bid to see anything but metal buildings and scrap, but he can't. everything left behind is familiar to him in style and structure. he comes across a large drilling machine that spans the area of a small city and the oil oozing out of it is burning brighter than anything else he's seen, fueling the flames of everything else around it. it has eggman's logo still clearly emblazoned all over it.

his heart drops, he panics, he covers his mouth and hyperventilates and tries to come to grips with this but he can't. the kicker is that he knows eggman has time traveled before and told his sons it was too dangerous and terrible to join him. eggman had to have known this and he didn't care. he knew and he didn't care. silver caused his own abandonment, helped kill his own parents he'll never meet or remember, and his daddy wanted it that way. he can't take it anymore and goes back to... his time? but it isn't his time, is it. his time is on fire and the world is dead. his time is nowhere.

he tries to tell his brothers about what he saw, but shadow is too walled off to talk to and sonic believes what he saw was misleading or a lie. shadow says that silver said himself that the chaos emeralds turns thoughts into power. it could all be in his head.

help isn't here and he can't let dad know what happened. he leaves the next morning after a sleepless night for a "mission", but he's just looking for amy. she's the only person who could possibly believe him and HELP him. his family wouldn't do anything.

this whole time he's in emotional anguish, crying so hard he's thrown up a few times already, and when amy sees him she thinks he's faking it like he always does. until he starts gagging and begging. he would never lay himself this low for a lie. concerned, she takes him to tails, who is having a much harder time believing that this is real and not a trick to find out where his workshop is or take advantage of him. he's a bully and a tyrant and he wouldn't feel safe having silver in his house. amy forces him to accept anyway. amy awkwardly offers silver new clothes, and he accepts. they're ill-fitting and not his style but he's already got his fur matted with tears and rank with Things so he gives up his dignity. tails is unhappy, silver is panicking and throwing up all night while amy tries and fails to comfort him, and eggman becomes deeply suspicious of silver not coming back. especially when he can't track his precious son boy's location. hmm.

he pulls shadow and sonic into his main Scheming Room and say anything silver told them was a lie and a trick. amy was brainwashing him. they need to report any sightings to him immediately and bring him back at all costs. meanwhile silver has told amy about eggman's scheme and that eggman already has a few emeralds. his first order of business to save his future is to steal them back. tails has a conversation with him first. if you want to actually save your future, you'll be completely out of any time. an anomaly. your parents would most likely never exist.

silver thinks this over for a surprisingly short pause in the conversation, looking at his hands. he says yes, i'll accept it. i don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else. ever.

jumping forward a little bit, the first time silver sees his family again they're surprised to see him out of uniform and actually helping amy. he pleads with them, saying they've got it all wrong, they're destroying the future and the world, but they all say that can't possibly be right. the future must be destroyed because we haven't tried hard enough, haven't gotten rid of amy, or because YOU abandoned us. silver openly cries, and eggman rolls his eyes and says he isn't going to fall for it. silver chokes on his own spit and sputters about how he was abandoned and they don't care, they don't care that everyone was dead and the sky was blotted out with thick smoke, they didn't care that his lungs are permanently damaged just from being in that world as an infant, they don't care.

shadow and sonic are confused and worried and try to step over to comfort him however they can, but eggman says boys. here. now. they can't disobey. they get into the eggmobile and leave him on his own. and that's what he thinks is his final goodbye to his family, home, and previous life. shadow complicates things.

-

shadow is unsettled by silver's distress. privately, he believes that silver wouldn't lie to them and wouldn't leave them over a lie. sonic repeatedly tries to soothe shadow's apparent worry, but it isn't working. despite everything, shadow hopes that things will just go back to normal, silver will realize how foolish he's being, and he'll come back home and everything will be okay.

while eggman is working on getting the chaos emeralds back from amy and friends (hes ultimately unsuccessful this time), he seems very busy and distracted. more than usual. shadow is particularly sensitive to eggman's moods, so it's apparent to him. on a day where he's keeping watch while eggman works on some sensitive files and plotting work, eggman gets up and leaves the room to check something. shadow is left alone with a computer with every single permission possible, including the files on him and his brothers. he wonders what eggman could have lied to him about. he pushes through fear and sits down in a chair much too large for him and opens up the files labeled with his name. there's a lot of files from someone named gerald. design notes labeled to be about 65 years old now. there's police filings, reports, personal journals, scientific studies, newspapers, obituaries... there's a strange fixation on a little girl named maria that died somewhere called "the ark".

she was only 4.

he's never met this girl, so he feels no more than a vague sadness. this whole thing is so... odd. but all these design notes are about him, specifically theories about how he would grow up, and the practical designs seem to all be based around a fetus, and there's some stuff about aliens, and... eggman did not make him. eggman stole him.

right as he realizes the gravity of this, eggman clears his throat in the doorway.

so? what do you think about what you've learned? shadow is frozen as eggman steps closer. does this change anything?

eggman watches closely. shadow is sweating and he swallows and he says no, nothing changed at all. eggman says good, good. you passed my little test. do you think so low of me that i would leave my computer unattended without reason? you silly little thing.

and that's that. shadow doesn't change anything about his routine, but he's deeply troubled by several fundamental truths he knew about himself were wrong. he was lied to for so long and eggman didn't care... that pings another worry of his. silver was right. he knows a lot more than he did a few months ago, but he assumes things will be normal. though he's not able to do his job as well, and seeing silver again makes him scared and want to go with him and say he was right all along, and seeing rouge makes him tempted to leave with her, and he has to shake it all off because he really doesn't want to get in trouble.

it's monthly checkup time, and eggman is being very thorough. a bit more thorough than usual, but it's okay, it makes sense, it's been a while since the last full physical. this is normal. eggman starts sterilizing him, helping him clean himself thoroughly down to the skin, and this is normal and it's fine. eggman puts on a full sterile hazmat suit in blinding white and this is normal, he's put in a hospital gown and plastic booties and that's normal, and eggman is leading him by the shoulders to the back room he's only been in for surgical upgrades and that's normal.

eggman opens the door, still firmly holding his shoulders. the long-term stasis chamber with comfortable cushions is open and waiting like a casket. the screens around it are alight with information, some of which he's seen before. notes on memory extraction.

eggman left the notes up on purpose. this is shadow's final test of loyalty, staring into the abyss. shadow does not pass it. he teleports away, using all his strength to teleport over and over again to somewhere far away, not fussed about where it is in particular as long as it's AWAY.

he ends up in the woods somewhere, dazed and confused and looking for some kind of help, any help at all. tails reports to amy that there's been odd energies somewhere in the deep woods and she should investigate.

she sees shadow in a hospital gown, ekg/telemetry electrodes stuck all over him, fur ruffled and smelling like chemicals. his eyes are somewhere else, and he begs her for help and shelter because he needs to GET. AWAY.

she takes him to tails, tails is unhappy, silver is shocked but can't have a proper reunion with shadow because he seems to be in shock and he isn't talking much. silver is still once again in tears. tails takes shadow to the guest room where silver was staying and he falls asleep on the floor not long after, a spare blanket draped over him. he always did steal sleep whenever he could. when he wakes up, he's disoriented and doesn't believe this is real. he wanders around until he runs into tails, and tails says he's not dreaming. welcome to team amy. the world pops into clear focus for the first time in over a day and he collapses as he finally absorbs what happened to him and how badly this could end. dad was going to kill him. he can never go back.

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

When Steve arrived back home that evening, he was a little surprised to find it mostly empty. There was no sign of Chrissy or Eddie’s Corroded Coffin boys apart from the empty containers of ice-cream and candy, along with an empty bottle and a half of wine. 

Eddie himself was sitting curled up on the couch watching the TV with wide unseeing eyes, chewing through his fingers.

His gaze snapped over to the door but as soon as he caught sight of Steve, his shoulders loosened and his thumb was released from his teeth. 

He looked relieved and Steve could not fathom what could possibly have Eddie feeling relieved to see him. 

Eddie seemed to think the same thing because the next second the scowl was back on his face.

“Where is everyone?” He asked, stepping forward and starting to pick up the stray wrappers and empty containers while Eddie watched him like a hawk, his shoulders tense again, frowning.

“Told them to go. Said I was fine here by myself.” He mumbled.

Steve dropped the trash in the bin and turned to him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Are you?”

Eddie bristled, puffing himself out, gearing up for a fight while Steve stared him down. But then he watched in real time as Eddie was only able to hold it for a few seconds before deflating, slumping back down into the cushions.

“I’m fine.”

Steve pursed his lips. 

After talking with Robin, he had to admit to himself that maybe he did want to look out for Eddie, a little. Because Eddie was scared. He was nervous and jumpy and clearly did not like being home alone.

“Are you worried he’s gonna come back?” 

If Rick did come back, he didn’t think Eddie would allow himself to be pushed around but it would fuck him up mentally even more than he already was. 

And Steve couldn’t have that.

Eddie stood, brushing crumbs from the front of his shirt and glaring in Steve’s direction without meeting his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” He insisted, turning on his heel and storming back into his room.

Steve sighed to himself after the door was slammed closed.

Well that went great.

“Shit.”

Steve wasn’t sure whether it was better to keep dancing around Eddie, being as gentle with him as he could stomach without making it obvious, or if he should go back to the way they used to be. Because if he knew anything about Eddie, it was that he couldn’t stand the idea of being handled like he was delicate even though he was clearly affected by what had happened to him.

Eventually he settled on a mix of the two.

But still, Steve was struggling to find a balance between sniping and bitching at each other regardless of what kind of wounds might be there and trying to not pour salt all over it.

He and Eddie still snapped at each other but Steve kept any arguments on his side away from anything Rick or Rick adjacent, and as the weeks went on he took note of what would have Eddie flinching or recoiling. 

He erased those triggers from his snappy comebacks.

One of the things that was completely off limits was anything to do with sex. 

After that first night when Eddie came home bloody and bruised because his ex fucking attacked him, Steve had to remind himself, they traded barbs about topping and bottoming and power dynamics in the bedroom all the time before, but now?

Eddie really, really didn’t like those things being thrown around.

He never said so much to Steve outright, almost like he expected Steve to pounce on it, which made a new flame of anger burn up in his stomach thinking about why Eddie would think he’d even do that, because it had to come from somewhere, right? Eddie had to have been treated like that in the past to make him think that Steve would do the same.

But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. He’d never.

And as time passed he got the impression that Eddie was starting to see that.

He just hoped he could make it obvious that he just wanted… what did he want?

He wanted what was best for Eddie, but why did he fucking care?

He didn’t care, that was the thing. 

He didn’t fucking care.

He kept telling himself that.

He was just being a decent human.

He didn’t care, he just wasn’t trying to kick a guy while he was down.

It had been a couple of months since the whole Rick thing had happened and Eddie had stayed at home for most of it, only leaving to go to work or to pick up groceries.

He didn’t go out anymore.

He didn’t hang out in bars or clubs or enter gigs with his band.

Chrissy called over often and the Corroded Coffin boys even more so.

But it was after one visit from Chrissy that things seemed to have changed. 

Steve had heard them talking. She was trying to encourage him. He wanted to go back out, it seemed. He missed it. But he was nervous. And she wanted to help him. 

He heard his own name being mentioned once or twice but aside from that he couldn’t make much of it out. 

Not that he cared to. It was none of his business and he wasn’t going to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

No matter how much he wanted to.

But apparently it was going to be done anyway, because one evening, as Steve sat over a bowl of soup, he became aware of Eddie hovering behind him.

He didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even look up from the TV where he was eating on the sofa, always enjoying the feeling of rebellion in the small act.

His mother would have had a fit if she’d seen him but she wasn’t going to see him. Was never going to see him again after the things she’d said, and good riddance to her.

So Eddie hovered and Steve ignored.

Until,

“You're a reformed slut, right?”

Steve stopped his spoon half way to his mouth, just sitting there frozen for a moment before he slowly put the spoon back into the bowl.

With a glance up he could see that Eddie was red faced, twisting his rings around his fingers and looking up to the ceiling like the mysterious brown stain was suddenly very interesting.

Steve took a deep, soothing breath in. 

“Calling me ‘reformed’ makes me sound like it's something I should be ashamed of. Like it was wrong.”

Eddie finally brought his eyes down to him with a raised eyebrow. “Where's the fun if it's not a little wrong?”

“Whatever.” He replied with an eye roll. “Yes, I'm a reformed slut. What's your question?”

“How…” Eddie crossed his arms and turned to the side, looking away from him again, as if it would make this conversation go easier. “How do I… do… that?”

Steve blinked at him. “Be a slut?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you go out there and be a slut.” He shrugged. “It's not that hard.”

Eddie scoffed then muttered, “For you, maybe.”

Steve sighed, putting his bowl down on the coffee table. “Well, what are you looking to get out of it? Orgasms?”

Eddie wouldn’t have any trouble picking up people, never has had any trouble picking up people in the past, even when he clearly wasn’t single, people still wanted to try their luck. Steve had seen it with his own eyes and he couldn’t blame them. 

Eddie was gorgeous, all dark hair, dark eyes, dark tattoos and pale skin, lanky limbs and wiry muscles. And he used to be all confidence and devil may care attitude that drew people in.

Though that seemed to have fled him after Rick.

But casual sex with strangers had never really been something Eddie seemed interested in so Steve was a little confused about the line of questioning.

Eddie always seemed like a ‘connection’ type of guy. 

Eddie's ears went pink. “No. I can do that on my own, thanks.”

“Yeah, I thought so. So what are you looking to get out of it?”

He shrugged. “I dunno… like… I haven't- not since Rick. And I want to feel…” He shrugged again, turning in an aimless circle. “I dunno.”

“You wanna feel… desirable?” Steve hedged.

“I guess.”

“And you don't wanna get orgasms out of that?” He asked again, just to be sure. 

“Is that allowed?” Eddie snapped.

“Of course it's allowed, Mary. Don't go out there and start having sex if you don't want to be having sex.”

“I won't. I wouldn't. I'm not… I don't think I'm ready.”

“Okay, that's okay. And it’s okay if you never are. You don’t have to be going out and having casual sex at all.”

Eddie hummed then kicked the base of the sofa, frustrated, hands stuffed in his pockets. “But how do I go and slut it up if I'm not having sex?”

“You don't have to have sex to be a slut.” Steve spread his hands out. “It's a vibe.”

“A vibe.” Eddie mocked.

“Yeah, honey. A vibe. You can go out and just get kisses if that's all you want.”

Eddie actually fell silent at that, thinking.

“Just kisses?”

“Yeah. Just kisses. With tongue, without tongue, with hands, without hands. Y’know, whatever.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Okay. I can do just kisses. Okay.” 

He paused, like he was going to actually thank Steve which would be fucking wild but the second Eddie turned to look at him, it was like he'd just remembered who he was talking to and his entire face flamed before he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.

Steve just rolled his eyes, returning to his soup.

Despite that little conversation, Eddie didn’t go out for another two weeks. 

Or at least Steve didn’t see him go out.

Not that he was watching.

It was like Eddie was trying to build himself up to it and more than once Steve had wanted to remind him that he really didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to.

But it seemed Eddie was determined to get back on the horse.

It was one Friday evening when Eddie came out of his room and hovered again, just standing in the apartment, putting himself within Steve’s line of vision.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, not bothering to look up from his newspaper, slowly lifting it a little higher to cover his eyeline as he sat on the couch.

Eddie didn’t answer and didn’t move until with a roll of his eyes, Steve tipped down a corner of the paper.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him, though he seemed reluctant to do it, almost as if saying ‘Well? How do I look?’

Steve pushed his glasses further up his nose, scraping his eyes up and down Eddie’s body.

He looked good.

Really good.

His long legs were wrapped up in a pair of tight ripped jeans, he had his usual chains at his hips, perfect for pulling. There was a large belt buckle settled across his hips, drawing the eye down to the hem of his black crop top, a dark trail of hair just visible underneath along with the lithe muscles of his stomach, and sides. The ripped out sleeves of the top left an excessive amount of skin and tattoos on display and his face was slowly getting redder and redder the longer Steve looked.

He looked fucking delicious.

Except for-

“Fix your hair and you’re good.”

Steve flipped his newspaper back up and decided he wasn’t going to think about it anymore. 

Nope, no way.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Eddie asked. “Chrissy said it looks good up.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Eddie did look unfairly good with his hair up, but not like that.

Scraped back to within an inch of its life, practically pulling his skin taut and leaving his bangs looking especially thin. 

It wasn’t a cute look.

“It does.” Steve said, letting it slip out without his permission. He barreled forward, trying not to draw attention to it. “But not like that. That’s not what she meant.”

“Well, what the hell did she mean then?”

Steve flipped his newspaper down again. Eddie was glaring at him with his hands on his hips, like this was all Steve’s fault. 

“She meant when it’s, like, messy. Looser.”

Eddie just looked at him bewildered as Steve huffed and closed his newspaper, folding it haphazardly and throwing it down onto the couch next to him before standing and grabbing him by the wrist.

“Come on. I’m not letting you leave the house with hair like that.” He said, dragging him into their shared bathroom. “If it gets linked back to me my reputation would be ruined.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a stereotype.”

Steve shoved him further into the room with a scowl. “A stereotype who’s about to help you get some kisses, so shut up and say thank you.”

Eddie snorted. “Keep dreaming, sweetheart.”

Steve was maybe a little less gentle than he should have been, standing behind him, taking Eddie’s hair out of the ponytail he had it in, tugging on the strands and leaving Eddie grimacing with a scowl on his face as he glared at Steve through the mirror.

Once he had it all untangled, Steve ran his hands through, close to the scalp, trying to get the strands to relax a little more from where they’d been tied up so tight and Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed.

Right. He should probably be a little gentler but he was surprised to find that Eddie’s hair was actually quite soft and the curls wanted to clump together in the way that curls did.

So he was forced to come to the conclusion that Eddie had just been dragging a brush through his perfectly healthy hair and fucking up his curls at every opportunity and Steve had to stop himself from sitting Eddie down right at that moment and giving him a lecture on proper curl maintenance. 

Except no, because that wasn’t what he was doing right now, he was trying to keep his good hair reputation intact for tonight.

That was all.

With gentle fingers he coaxed Eddie’s hair back up onto his head, trying it off with the same hairband and lightly tugging to give it a bit more volume. 

He was in the zone now, the hair zone.

He turned Eddie to face him with a hand at his shoulder.

He was a little surprised at how easily Eddie went and it was only when he was hovering so close to his face, hands in his hair, tugging a few whips free and tucking a few more behind his ear, he noticed how quiet Eddie was.

Moving his gaze down from Eddie’s hairline, he felt like he’d had the air punched from his lungs as he met Eddie’s eyes.

How had he never noticed them before?

Deep and brown, almost black from a distance but with different shades up close, copper and caramel and chocolate and something deeper, almost like burnt wood, staring at him with such intensity he could feel it all the way in the back of his brain.

Steve took a step back.

This was not happening. 

This was not happening.

Eddie tracked every one of his micro movements with those eyes, watching him closely like he was a squirming insect. 

It made his skin itch.

“It’ll do.” Steve said into the thick silence around them, distracting himself by reaching into his cupboard for the hairspray.

“Hold your breath.”

He barely gave Eddie a moment to respond, his mouth hanging open in a question and his eyes a little wider than they had been before he sprayed, coating Eddie’s hair with a light spritz while Eddie scrunched his eyes and mouth closed, devolving into coughs once Steve had stopped assaulting him.

“Jesus.” He hacked out, a hand to his chest and a glare sent in Steve’s direction. “Are you ever not a bitch?”

Steve just gave him a peppy grin. “No.”

Then, against his better judgement, he opened his mouth again.

“You look gorgeous, darling.” He said, managing to put a slightly condescending tone into it because that was not the kind of fucking game he was playing here. He was not… feeling things about his dickhead roommate. 

He barely caught Eddie’s eye roll before he turned on his heel and booked it out of their tiny shared bathroom, not wanting to be trapped in there with him any longer.

Eddie cursed after him as he left and Steve was content to hide away beneath his newspaper again, keeping it firmly in front of his face as Eddie finished up whatever primping he was doing in the bathroom and left the apartment without another word shared between them.

He wasn’t awake when Eddie stumbled in home that night, or the weekend after that, though he was quietly delighted to see that Eddie had taken his advice to heart and followed the steps to keeping his hair looking good when he had it up, though he didn’t wear it up all the time. 

Steve was also left very confused for a while after Eddie left to go out on the third weekend when he walked into their bathroom and was met with the smell of his own cologne still lingering in the air.

It took a few minutes of him scouring his own memories, trying to think if he had sprayed it and not remembered, before he realised Eddie had probably stolen some, sprinkling it over his skin before he went out.

The thought made some deep desire lick through his veins. Eddie would be out kissing strangers, maybe more if he was feeling up to it, but he’d be out there with Steve’s smell on him. 

Like a claim of ownership.

He wasn’t sure he liked that it made him feel that way. 

Eddie didn’t know it made him feel that way.

But why had he done it? He had his own smell that he wore all the time, why switch it up now?

It confused the shit out of him. It made no sense. 

Adding onto the smell of hairspray that was also still lingering in the bathroom along with it, he’d smell exactly like Steve.

While out there, kissing strangers.

Steve would be on him like a brand.

He needed a cold shower. 

This time around, Steve was still awake when Eddie stumbled in through the door, his gangly limbs seemingly unable to keep him moving in a straight line as he hung off the wall to swing around into the kitchen, nearly sending himself flying into the kitchen counter.

His face broke out into a wide smile when he caught sight of Steve, his eyelids heavy with that drunken relaxation and his movements clumsy but cute.

“Stevie.” Eddie was leaning most of his weight up against the counter next to him. 

Steve just raised his eyebrows at him, continuing to stir his tea, swamped in his throw. Eddie never usually called him that unless he was teasing. 

But there was no teasing in his tone now, just… affection?

Weird.

Eddie looked like he had had a good night. He had smudged red lipstick across the corner of his mouth and down his neck, and what looked like black glittery lipstick around his collar. That was gonna be hell to get out of his white Metallica tour shirt.

“Good night?”

“Mmm.” Eddie hummed, still smiling up at him from his slumped position. 

Steve flicked his eyes over Eddie’s face again, feeling something inexplicably warm settle over him at the sight of his easy happiness. 

Rick was slowly fading further and further into the past, and thank god for that. 

“Want me to make you your tea?”

Eddie sighed, heavy and dreamy, like Steve had just offered him the world. “Oh my god, that would be amazing.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin, pulling down Eddie’s favourite Garfield mug.

“Good night?”

Eddie nodded. “I kissed eight people.”

“Eight? Impressive number.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s smile was blinding. “Three boys, a girl, two drag queens and two others who… I think they were enbies but I didn’t really stop to ask. They were good kissers anyway.”

Steve couldn’t stop smiling back at him.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“I’m having the best time, sweetheart. It feels so good to be out on the town again. No longer sitting home and thinking of-” Eddie cut himself off with a slightly choked noise, snapping his eyes away from Steve. “-things.”

“Things?” Steve hedged, not wanting to bring back up anything bad. Especially not while Eddie was so vulnerable. He wanted to keep him happy.

Eddie just shrugged. 

“Haven’t felt so good about myself in a while. Rick was such an ass face.”

Steve nodded, stirring Eddie’s tea up. “He was. He was an assface.” He slid it across the counter, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Eddie hummed to himself again, looking down at his tea, his hands curled around the hot mug, a blush painted over his cheeks.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, like he was physically trying to keep the words in, but it was futile because a second later he opened them to ask, “How come you stopped being a slut?”

Eddie’s face lit up red as soon as he said it and Steve was…

Steve actually felt a little delighted at the sight of it. Eddie was usually pretty good about keeping any embarrassment he felt firmly locked away whenever he was around Steve and he was borderline giddy to see Eddie so open with him, even if it was only because it was fuelled by alcohol. 

Steve decided to take pity on him, pulling his own mug up to his chest, cradling it in his hands and creating a barrier in between the two, giving Eddie a moment to breathe. 

“It wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Yeah, it can feel really good to go out and get some action without really trying but after years and years of doing just that…” He shrugged. “I dunno, it kinda just wore me down. I wanted more than that. I want a connection, I guess. I didn’t want meaningless sex anymore. I want a relationship.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So why haven’t you started looking for one?”

Steve frowned. “I have. No one has really been right yet, you know?”

“Why not?”

Steve glanced over at him. 

Eddie still looked so confused.

He shrugged, a little bewildered. “I dunno? They just didn’t fit. They would be suspicious of my relationship with Robin, or-”

“Robin, the flaming lesbian?”

“Yeah, but apparently boys and girls just can’t be friends without something going on.” Steve rolled his eyes. “If they didn’t think Robin was only a pretend lesbian, then they’d think I was secretly in love with her.”

“I mean, you are in love with her, but like, platonically.”

“Yeah, but people don’t want to hear that, apparently.”

“Maybe you should stop dating the straights.”

“I haven’t just been dating the straights, honey.” Steve said with a little curl of his lip. “But if it’s not Robin, it’s something else. But it’s fine. It’s okay. I’m okay being single for a while. It’s helped me get to know myself.”

“But you would be open to a relationship if one came along?”

Steve glanced up at him again but Eddie wasn't looking at him. He was just staring into his tea like it was the most fascinating potion.

“Yeah. I would be.” Steve tilted his head, trying to figure out where this line of questioning was coming from. 

Eddie finally glanced back up, nodding.

“I think I would be too. But for now, kissing is good.”

Steve smiled. “Kissing is very good. I like kissing.”

“Me too.” Eddie grinned back at him and for a moment the two of them just stood there, smiling at one another through the steam of their tea, somehow, inexplicably closer than they had been. 

All at once, Steve realised who he was drifting towards. Eddie seemed to catch on at the same moment, and the two of them abruptly stepped back.

“I’m going to bed.” Eddie squeaked, turning on his heel and almost running back to his room.

Steve hid away in his own room only a second later. 

Robin just groaned to herself, pressing her fingers into her eyes. 

“If I told you a girl was acting like that with me, asking me all those questions, what would you tell me?”

“That she liked you.”

Robin looked up, her eyes weary from where she’d been pressing into them from frustration, staring at him hard.

It clicked.

“Oh.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation @raisedbylibrarians @silver-snaffles @estrellami-1 @bookbinderbitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @marklee-blackmore

If I missed anyone for tagging please let me know! 🖤

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[anothermansjeans]

I NEEDDDD more of YouTuber y/n X Spencer 😭 pllzzzzz maybe the first time he actually is on a video? Not just by accident but doing something like a challenge or something 😭?

HEHEHEHE I AM FERAL FOR THEM YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! i also love this concept... everyone pls feel free to send me more 🫶

cw: major fluff, competitive reader, competitive spencer, reader (sometimes) wears makeup

wc: 1.4k

++

You were extremely giddy. Ever since Spencer’s face was accidentally shown in one of your unedited videos, he’s been slowly coming around to the idea of being more involved with your channel. Of course, he had to be careful at times because of his job, so it started out small. You saw a trend on TikTok and practically begged Spencer to participate.

It was simple really. You would take a video of your makeup routine and then have Spencer do the voiceover without telling him the exact name of the method or technique you were doing. He was adorable with it, truly, and because of this, the internet went absolutely berserk. Comments ranged from awe to thirsting over his voice, and you didn't blame them. It was this uproar of engagement that sparked the idea of actually having him in a real video for your channel.

Spencer was apprehensive at first– he was still a bit camera shy, but after your reassurance that the people will love him, he agreed, wanting to help and support you in any way possible. When he asked about the video you had in mind and the words “trivia game” were thrown around, his eyes lit up and even offered for Penelope to go over to your apartment to be the one reading the questions so that it could be a fun game between the two of you.

When the camera was set up, ring lights on, and Penelope curled up on the big comfy chair behind the scenes, it was show time.

“Hello, lovelies!” Your intro went as usual, and as you spoke, you could see Spencer in your peripheral, staring at you with a gentle smile on his face. After about a minute of talking, you took a breath and turned your head to his. “You're probably wondering who this hunk of brains is next to me… this is Spencer, my boyfriend!”

Spencer finally took a glance at the camera and gave a thin smile with a shy wave. “Hi.”

A giggle erupted from you and Penelope, which resulted in your eyebrows jumping up. “And behind the camera is the magical woman I am stealing to be my best friend–” your words were slightly interrupted by a soft “hey” coming from Spencer, “Penelope!” You gave another smile to the camera before going on to explain what you were doing in the video. “Today we are putting our brains to battle in some fun trivia! Penelope will be reading us pop culture trivia and whoever answers first correctly gets a point. The prize is… bragging rights?” Your eyebrows pulled together. You forgot to think of that part, but a smile erupted once Penelope spoke from behind the camera.

“Oh! What if Spencer has to be in three in your TikTok videos if you win, and if he wins, he gets to tweet from your twitter!”

“Penny, you're a genius!”

Penelope was bashful as Spencer held a confused expression. “Tweet?”

“Oh boy wonder,” Penelope started, “I’ll show you the ins and outs if you get that far.”

Once again, Spencer let out a soft “hey” in response.

Noticing his semi-hurt expression, a pout formed on your lips and you gently placed your hand on his thigh, immediately feeling him relax under your touch and shift his body more towards yours. “It’s okay, baby. I believe in you.”

It was like he couldn't help himself. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, causing stars to appear in your eyes and a small “eek!” to come from Penelope's mouth. The sound startled Spencer, making a blush appear on the apples of his cheeks. He cleared his throat and muttered, “shall we start?”

Shaking yourself from the starry place he sends you, you turned back to the camera. “Right! Well, Pen, we’re ready whenever you are.”

“Okay, first question. ‘Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?’ is a classic movie line from what 1985 John Hughes film?”

A millisecond barely went by before words were spewing out of Spencer’s mouth, “The Breakfast Club!”

You knew he was right, so you weren't too disappointed when Penelope called out as correct. “Okay, next one,” she said, marking a tally under Spencer’s name on a small whiteboard on her lap. “What five members make up the band *NSYNC?”

You were practically shouting out the answer before she finished the question, “Justin Timberlake, Lance Bass, JC Chasez, Joey Fatone, and Chris Kirkpatrick!”

“Correct!”

“Yes!” You jumped up from the couch, only aware of your overexcitement after looking down at Spencer and seeing the complete awe plastered on his face. “Sorry…” You sat back down with a shy smile on your face, but Spencer just shook his head, folding his lips in.

“Don't be,” he started, “you're cute when you're excited.”

“Yeah, excited to destroy you,” you said sassily.

A scoff soon followed from Spencer, “oh, it’s on.”

“Shall I continue?” Penelope spoke up, trying not to interrupt their moment. She only asked the next question when both parties on the couch gave a nod. “Which member of One Direction was the first to go solo?”

And the game continued. Honestly, you thought you had this win in the bag, but as it progressed, you became increasingly worried. Who knew your genius boyfriend was pretty well-versed in pop culture trivia? It was the end of the game when the two of you inevitably tied, and Penelope was basically on the edge of her seat as she prepared to give you the last question.

“Okay, tie breaker. This is for the win.”

As much as you love each other, you were both in it to win it. You two were also too focused to realize the mirroring positions you had. Both hunched over with your hands clasped as your arms resting on your knees, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and eyebrows scrunched together (once the video is uploaded the comments have a field day with this… you guess that's what happens when you live with someone for a while).

“The E.L. James novel Fifty Shades of Grey is based on fanfiction from what young-adult book series?”

You knew the answer… deep, very deep in your mind, you knew, but before you could even reach those depths, Spencer was standing up with wide eyes. “Oh! I know this one. It’s Twilight!” When Penelope told him he was right, he let out a loud “ha” as he looked at you and pulled your sitting body into a hug. It was an awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless.

As he was squeezing your shoulders, you moved your head up so that your chin was resting on his stomach. Your eyebrows knit together wondering how the hell he knew that, and once he came down from his high he loosened his grip and sat back down, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “We uh, had a case that involved the topic of vampires to come up… I was intrigued and learned a lot about the series.”

You just smiled and pecked his nose with your lips. “Your brain is insane and I love it.”

He ducked his blushed face down and Penelope cleared her throat, prompting the two of you to remember your surroundings and the camera placed in front of you. “So the winner is Spencer!”

Letting out a sigh, you gave a nod and opened up Twitter before starting a new post and handing your phone to Spencer. “It’s all yours, lover boy. Write what you want– there is a word limit, though.”

He held your phone for a moment, staring at the screen as he pursed his lips. It was only a few seconds later until he started typing away. After about a minute, he pressed the button to send the tweet, and you immediately heard an “awe” come from Penelope as she looked at her phone. Looking down at the app, you took a peek at what he wrote, and your heart was ready to burst.

@ y/ny/l/n: According to a 2013 survey, nine in ten Americans cited that love is the most important reason to get married, compared to 28% of people who said they wed for financial stability… I think I’m with those 9 people. I thought that was a fun fact :)

You knew the replies were already going crazy, but you refused to look at them. You were in for a ride with Spencer Reid.

[samkerrworshipper]

found family | arsenal women x reader

no warnings just sickness, comfort and a little bit of angst

blurb: when r decides it’s a good idea to go out in the snow for the first time after training they suffer the consequences, and then suffer the consequences of trying to conceal their sickness

sorry if this draws on, wanted to give y’all something so this is from the drafts lol and idk how i feel about it

Doing snow angels after training in nothing more than shirts and shorts was never going to be a good idea, but I’d done it anyway. Me, Katie, Caitlin, Alessia and Beth having snuck out without telling any of our other teammates to have a moment in the snow. It was some harmless fun that we were sure our coaches and captains wouldn’t approve of, so we’d snuck out of the recovery room without anybody taking notice and had some fun in the snow. We hadn’t been out in it for much longer than 20 minutes, just long enough to slip out and in. It was rare for there to be so much snow so early in the year, I had hardly been expecting it and it wasn’t the normal sludge that North London was renowned for, it was proper fluffy white snow, the stuff you see in hallmark movies. I was the only player on the team who had never seen real snow before, so when I’d pleaded with Katie to take me out in it, she could hardly say no to me.

Beth, Caitlin and Alessia had just been casualties. Katie had taken Lessi under her wing since her start at Arsenal, the two had very quickly become bonded and there wasn’t much you could do with Katie anymore without Alessia and Caitlin being her companions.

Beth and Viv had happened to overhear our conversation in recovery and Beth had pleaded with us to let her come, Viv just shook her head at us, clearly in disapproval of our decisions but also not bothering herself with trying to stop us, there wasn’t any point, she wouldn’t win.

So we’d somehow managed to sneak out of the recovery rooms and out onto the spare field, which was covered in a blanket of white snow. Almost immediately I’d thrown myself down into the powder, shivering slightly at the coldness but not really caring, it was an experience that felt so incredibly surreal that I was in complete ignorance over my senses.

The four other women just sat and watched as I rolled around in the snow, Katie and Beth shaking their heads at my antics. Alessia busied herself with getting in a snowball fight with Caitlin. It had stayed fairly tame until I’d thrown one at Katie’s head and then it had turned into a full on war, ending with Katie and I wrestling in the snow.

Our snow escapades had ended with Beth forcing me out of the snow and into a jacket, I was shivering all ready but I didn’t care, my heart felt mended in a way that was inexplicably perfect.

I’d been forced into a hot shower by Katie, her overbearing motherly tendencies also making Alessia and Caitlin join me. Beth had been the only one to not enter the snow so she’d slipped her way into the dinner room whilst us other girls had been busy warming our bodies back up. Caitlin and Alessia were fairly quick, but I took a little bit longer, my body still shivering even as I exited the shower to throw on some sweats.

Katie’s furrowed brow was enough to tell me that she was a little worried about the fact that I was still shivering and cold, but she didn’t vocalise her worries, instead opting to rush me and the other girls into the dinner room. Somehow our absence had gone unnoticed, something that I was shocked by because we were hardly the quiet crew of the group.

I’d slid into a seat across from Viv and beside Steph, my body still a quivering mess. Viv’s eyeroll was enough of an ‘I told you so’, the older dutch woman clearly disapproving of our decisions. I tucked into my dinner, pesto pasta with chicken and garlic bread. It didn’t take long for Steph, my fellow Matilda to notice my shivering body. My fingers struggling every once in a while to hold my fork still.

“Little bit cold, y/n/n?”

I smirked and chuckled at the light implication from Steph, trying my very hardest to not give away the intense chills that were wracking my body, I was sure they would fade eventually.

“Just not fully used to this London weather I suppose, had someone warned me it was going to be so cold I think I would have stayed in Perth.”

Steph nodded at me knowingly, before returning to her conversation she’d been having with Beth, leaving me face to face with Viv, who had worry weaved between her brows as she studied me. Beth and Viv had just been two of the people who had taken me under their wing since my arrival at the Arsenal. Viv especially, although she’d never admit it, had particularly gone out of her way to look after me. On top of the two captains, Leah and Kim who had practically adopted me as soon as I’d walked through the doors. Leah was harder on me then anyone else, considering she was also a mentor to me on the defensive side of the pitch, so when she’d taken me under her wing I’d been a little bit terrified. She was always on my ass, I was always the first person in trouble with her and the first person to be blamed for anything. I was also the youngest on the team, and my personality was loud and bubbly, something that didn’t assist in helping me keep my head down around the team.

It was one of the reasons Beth and I got on famously, the both of us always looking to cause a little bit of mayhem but most of all have fun, Katie normally getting caught up in our antics considering she was the team's designated prankster.

Right now though, I felt anything but bubbly, my head beginning to pound against my trembling form as I pushed the pasta around my bowl, no longer feeling the overwhelming hunger I’d left a few minutes ago.

It was the clambering of a teammate sitting down beside me that pulled me from my daze, dropping my fork on the bowl as I turned to see who was sitting next to me.

“Hey lover girl.”

Kyra’s hand found it’s way to my head, ruffling my hair, her hand retracting back quickly though as soon as she made contact with my scalp, her eyebrows furrowing into a similar expression to what Viv had given me a few minutes ago when I’d been caught out by her.

“Why’s your head so cold? Feels like you’ve just come out of the ice baths.”

Kyra’s voice was nothing but friendly, but with the mixture of my sudden headache and my annoyance over people telling me that I was cold I couldn’t help but give her a bitten back response.

“I’m fine, just leave me the fuck alone.”

Kyra visibly flinched back at my words and everyone around us went quiet fairly quickly, everyone sensing the sudden tension and confrontation occurring between me and my teammate. Kyra slid into the seat beside me, one of her hands falling to my thigh which I immediately flinched away from.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

I moved myself away from Kyra, inching myself further towards Steph, my other national teammate who seemed as equally confused by my behaviour as Kyra was.

“Y/n, a word?”

It was the voice from the other end of the table that captured my attention, Leah standing from the table already, clearly having detected the awkwardness between Kyra and I.

I clambered my way from my seat, scuffing my feet against the carpeted floor of the dining room as I tagged along behind Leah, following her out of the room and out into the corridor. I flicked the hood of my jumper over my head, toying with the drawstring as Leah turned to face me as soon as we were out of earshot from the group.

“What was that about?”

Her facial expression was as stern as ever as she looked at me, I kept my eyes on my feet, my head fucking hurt and I was still shivering, it was less noticeable though as I stood, I kept my hands out of sight and tried my very hardest to keep my body still.

“She was pissing me off.”

I could hear Leah frowning from in front of me, I didn’t need to look at her face to sense it.

“Does her pissing you off make it okay to tell her to fuck off, because I would hardly say that she deserved that, what’s up? This whole attitude is hardly normal for you.”

I kept my eyes focused on my shoes, toying with a bit of fluff that was stuck on the carpet, edging it slowly across the material with my shoed foot.

“Nothing’s up, I’m fine.”

Leah’s arm grabbing for my sleeve covered hand hadn’t been what I was accepting, the action drawing my eyes up to meet her own.

“I won’t have this piss poor attitude, go home, get some sleep and be here with a fresh mind tomorrow morning, understood?”

I pulled my hand from Leah’s, not letting her hold on to mine long enough to feel the tremors coursing across my skin.

“Aye, Aye, captain.”

I rolled my eyes at Leah, fake saluting her as I walked back into the dining room, picking my keys and phone up from the table quickly before exiting the building, not leaving any room to ask any questions as I stormed out of the room.

I somehow made it back to my apartment without passing out at the wheel, a miracle if you asked me. I didn’t have the will to do anything besides fall straight into my bed, very quickly changing into a pair of flannel pyjamas and stacking a pile of blankets on top of my sheets before climbing into the bed and relaxing into the mix of blankets, the mixture of heat and darkness calming my symptoms just enough to lull me into a fever induced sleep.

I woke up multiple times during the night, vomiting, coughing, sweats, chills, it all. My sleep was restless and by the time my alarms were going off I felt worse than ever. I was supposed to be at training by 9, but I could hardly manage to get out of bed to get to the toilet, let alone even attempt to try and put my training gear on and run around on a football pitch for three hours. I let my phone snooze one last time before flicking a text to Jonas, telling him that I was feeling a little bit under the weather and was just going to take the day to recuperate, all though something in my gut told me that one day wouldn’t be enough, not with the croaky cough that was wracking my whole body and the fever that I knew I was running. It was winter in London, I’d probably just picked up a 48 hour bug.

Jonas replied fairly quickly, telling me that he hoped I felt better and that it was a good idea to take a rest day.

With that text I turned off all of my alarms and burrowed back into my blanket fort, the effort of even having to look at my phone and piece together a text being too much for my head. My whole body hurt, my chest and ribs hurting every single time I took a breath, let alone coughed. The chills from yesterday were yet to pass, my whole body feeling like I was still out lying in the snow, even though I knew in reality my whole body was overheating. That thought still didn’t stop me from piling more blankets on top of my body, settling back into my bed with a groan as a wave of nausea and pain washed over me.

I faded in and out of the day, similarly to as I had done at night, my fever induced state making even my conscious moments feel like a dream. I ignored the incessant sound of my phone buzzing on my bedside table, opting to ignore anybody or anything that was popping up on it, I had one job in North London, play football, and I’d alerted my coach so that was as far as my social correspondence needed to go, any teammates or friends who decided my life was their business didn’t matter to me right now, my body hurt to much to care.

Somewhere around 5 or 6 the incessant coughing came to be too much for my body and I found my body keeled over the toilet bowl, dry heaving as I coughed up the mucus and phlegm that was caught up in my lungs. It was a painful experience, my lungs burning with every single breath that left my body, the oxygen burning on its way in.

I dragged myself back to my bed once I was done, the sun just beginning to set and my body having the capacity to do nothing more than lie down in my bed and wait for darkness to come so I could go back to sleep, tomorrow was our day off, so at least I didn’t have to worry about explaining another absence to Jonas.

My sleep through the night was even worse than the previous day, probably credited to the lack of energy I had in my body. The pain in my chest worsening drastically and in the wee hours of the morning I dragged a blanket and pillow into my ensuite, coming to the realisation that I didn’t have the energy to walk back and forth from the bathroom every time I had to go to the bathroom, which was fairly frequent with the amount of shit I was coughing up. I contemplated calling a teammate or Sam, whose apartment was fairly close to mine and I trusted her enough to ask her to come over. I didn’t though, opting to fall asleep on my toilet seat instead of getting up to go fetch my phone.

I stayed like that for most of the night, I think, honestly somewhere along in the night it all blurred into one. Until I was awoken brutally at 8am by the sound of pounding on my apartment door. I ignored it, half not believing that the sound was real and that it was just the sound of my fucking skull pounding against my brain in my head, a reflection of how my head had felt for the past 24 hours.

The knocking only grew louder and more persistent though, until it finally ceased and not much longer than 30 seconds later I was face to face with my two arsenal captains, both of their faces pink and rosy from the London cold and slightly exasperated.

“Hey skippers.”

My voice was laced with delirium, the only thing keeping me conscious at that point.

“Hey Joey, how you feeling?”

Leah walked cautiously towards me, letting Kim do the talking whilst she approached me and pressed the back of her palm to my forehead, grimacing almost immediately as her hand made contact with my own skin. I leant into the contact, her hand a relief from the fluctuating temperature my body had been upholding.

“Fuck, she’s burning up.”

Leah’s accent was thicker than normal, her voice covered in a blanket of concern that I’d never heard before.

“I’ll get Katie and Viv to come up, they can help get her into the car, we’ll have to take her to A&E, it’s bloody impossible to get an appointment with a doctor at this time of year.”

I shook my head at Kim almost immediately, or shook it as much as I could with the headache I had.

“M’ fine, just a 48 hour bug.”

My voice made me sound so much smaller, like I was a six year old and it was doing absolutely nothing to get my point across, in contradiction probably making my argument far weaker.

“Viv told us about you playing in the snow. What were you thinking? Playing in the snow with no clothes on after training, different breed you aussies.”

Kim mused at me, smiling a little bit as she watched Leah hurry around my bathroom, searching around. I frowned guiltily, knowing that once I felt better, once this was all over I’d be on the receiving end of a rather lengthy lecture about not endangering myself, a lecture I was sure Beth and Katie would have already received, considering Viv had snitched on us.

“I’m fine, I feel fine.”

My words were followed up by a fit of coughs that had me leaning back over the bowl of the toilet coughing up more phlegm, hardly a convincing point. My cough was dry, from the lack of fluids I’d consumed and the lack of liquids that were left in my body from the vomiting. My throat completely raw from the continuous retching.

“Don’t sound fine, sweetheart.”

Kim’s words were paused by Leah exclaiming as she located my first aid kit, that the two of them had put in my apartment when I’d moved in, claiming I was far too clumsy to not have one. She pulled out a thermometer almost immediately.

“I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, if you are below 38 then we’ll stay here. Me and Leah will look after you, like we could have yesterday if you had called us, or anyone. If you are above 38 though then we have to go to the hospital, because we don’t want you getting seriously sick, I know it sucks but we have to keep you safe sweetie. Kerr would have my neck if I didn’t return her best defender back in perfect condition when the international break rolls around, understood?”

I frowned at Kim, her stern scottish accent leaving no room for argument. I opened my mouth up to Leah, letting her slip the piece of metal into my dry and inflamed mouth. Waiting patiently until it beeped and frowning almost as soon as she saw it.

“41.”

Fuck. That number even made me frown a little bit, because that was unsafely high and all of us knew it. It explained all of my symptoms, and the cloud that I’d been floating on for the last day, a fever induced high that was the cause of my incessant sweating and shakes.

Kim frowned down at me, I shrugged at her in defeat, both of us knowing what it meant.

“C’mon sweet, let's get you changed and in the car.”

I looked up at Leah, my body folding in defeat as she bent down to lift me from the floor. I immediately wrapped my arms around her, letting her carry me back into my bedroom. She made quick work of changing me out of my pyjamas into a plain grey pair of sweatpants and an arsenal hoodie, giving me a peck to the forehead once she was done getting me changed. Her lips, cold from the London air felt so good on my burning skin, relaxing the itching and searing sensation that had covered every surface of my skin.

“Kim?”

Kim had busied herself with collecting a bag of my belongings, chargers, electronics, a change of clothes, and my toiletries. I had pretty much gone limp in Leah’s arms, letting her brush through my hair and comb it into a plait at the back of my head. The vice captain whispering sweet nothings in my ear as I groaned and coughed, my body tired from the constant pain.

“Yes, Joey?”

She took a pause in her hunt for my things, turning to face me, one of her eyebrows quirked at me in questioning. .

“Do you think you could text Sammy for me, please, and maybe Macca, I don’t want them to worry about me.”

My voice was so quiet I wasn’t even sure she’d heard it. The worry was growing on me though, the realisation that I really wasn’t as well as I’d been telling myself and Sam would want to be the first person called. Kim gave me a little smile before nodding and getting back to her job, collecting the last of my things just as I heard my front door open again.

“Of course I can sweet, let’s just get you in the car and then we can text whoever you need, alright?”

I heard Katie and Viv making their way through my flat, eventually making it to the doorway of my room, poking their heads around the side of my bedroom door.

As soon as I caught sight of Viv I bursted into tears, no longer being able to hold in the emotions that I’d holed up for the better part of the past 24 hours.

She was quick to be at my side, not protesting whatsoever as I threw myself into her arms, soaking the shoulder of her jumper with my tears and snot immediately. I was a blubbering mess, murmuring a flurry of apologies and admissions into Viv’s collarbone, the guilt of my actions settling into my gut.

“Hey, liefje, it’s okay, take some deep breaths for us.”

I burrowed my head into Viv, the feeling of sickness washing back over my body and making me feel worse.

“We’ve got you kiddo, I know you feel icky, but we need to get you to the hospital, to get you some help, so you can feel a bit better.”

I groaned into Viv’s body, rolling my eyes as she snickered a little bit at my reaction.

“I know you don’t want to, but we’re all really worried about you and you need some help, you're burning up like crazy, so let us take you, please?”

Leah’s palms were rubbing circles into my back, relaxing the muscles that were so tense. Viv’s arm was wrapped tightly around my shoulder, like she was protecting me from the world.

“C’mon kid, Katie and I have the car downstairs, all warm for you.”

Viv’s offer was enough to have me sighing in defeat and pursing my lips. I nodded half heartedly, letting Leah pull me from Viv’s arms so she could stand up. Leah helped me to pull my ugg boots over my feet whilst Kim and Katie finished collecting my things. I tried valiantly to walk by myself, but only made it to my doorway before my legs were weakening below me and Leah had to catch me. She carried me bridal style to the car, squishing me into the backseat between her and Kim.

My head found its way into the nook of Kim’s neck, silent tears and snot making its way down my face as we drove slowly towards the hospital. Leah, with a tissue at hand, very discreetly wiped at my face when I needed it and kneaded my arm muscles with her hands, helping my trembling hands to relax just a little bit. Slowly as we continued to drive any energy that I had previously possessed started to fade.

Kim called Sam, at my insistence, Sam was worried as soon as she heard Kim’s voice and after the explanation practically begged Kim to let her speak to me, so I was put on the phone with Sam, even at my reluctance.

“Joey?”

“Yup.”

“Hey sweet, how you feeling?”

I gulped slightly, not wanting to make Sam worry but also not wanting to lie to my skipper.

“Shit, I’m fine though.”

I could hear Sam’s eye roll from the otherside of the phone.

“41 degree temperature doesn’t sound too fine to me, what were you thinking?”

“Just wanted to have some fun.”

Sam’s scoff from the other side of the phone was enough to tell me she was more than displeased with my actions, something that most of the people in the car seemed to share.

“Next time you want to have fun, can you do it with someone other than McCabe, I hardly think she’s a role model for you, considering both of your reckless personas.”

Somehow Katie managed to overhear Sam’s words, a look of complete offence washing over her face.

“I’ll have you know Kerr that she practically begged me.”

Leah shushed Katie with a glare, the guilty look on Katie’s face told me she’d already had to hear a mouthful from our captains, and she would be on the receiving end of another one if she didn’t shut her mouth.

“Mm, sounds like our girl, well I’m going to go collect Alanna, Macca and Caitie, who are all very concerned about your wellbeing and we’ll see you at the hospital, okay?”

“Mm kay, thank you Sammy.”

As soon as the phone call ended I passed my phone back to Kim, relaxing my body back against hers, the actions of the day taking a toll on my body and resulting in a dramatic drop in my energy levels.

When we did arrive at the hospital I was hardly coherent, back on a fever induced cloud that made me hardly conscious. Katie was tasked with carrying me into the ER, Leah not being able to carry me much further than a few feet with her recovering knee injury. When we made it into the ER I was immediately tended to and sent straight into a room. My body was immediately connected to a series of machines and wires.

I fought against the nurses, to the point where Leah had to actually climb into the bed with me to keep me calm, my delusional body unhappy with the cold hands and cords connecting with my body. The contact with Leah though had seemed to calm me enough though for the doctors to be able to do their jobs and connect me up to monitors and IV fluids that my body was in desperate need of. There was a lot of bustling happening around me, but I kept my eyes closed, feeling instantly better when some pain relief and medicine was administered to my body, making me sleepy enough to fade into a deep sleep.

When I woke up I was hit with a reminder of my throbbing headache, my whole body hurt. Chest, ribs, head, it all hurt. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did my headache was only worsened by the light flooding into my room through the gaps in my blinds. I was shocked by the sheer amount of people crowded in my room, a different room to the one I’d fallen asleep in. My eyes flashed across my body, taking in all of the wires that my body was connected to, wires, leads, IV cords, my body was covered in more wires than it was skin. I panicked almost immediately, reaching to pull at the cords but my hands were stopped almost immediately.

“Hey Joey.”

It was Kim’s eyes that caught my own, her deep Scottish accent getting my attention and taking it away from the crawling feeling across my skin that all of the wires were causing.

“W-What happened?”

My eyes were darting across the room, my brain trying to remember what course of events had lead to me being in this position. My eyes caught onto my teammates, who were piled on sofas and chairs in the room.

“You went out in the snow, do you remember that? Katie took you out and you got a chill from it, because your body was vulnerable with the cold you developed pneumonia, pretty serious, you had us all worried for a little bit. Leah and I came to your apartment, because you hadn’t shown up to training and we were all worried about you, and we found you and took you here.”

It was a lot of information to take in, I couldn’t do much more than nod my head at Kim, like a goldfish.

“M’ sorry for worrying you.”

Kim smiled at me, shaking her head.

“It’s okay Joey, all forgiven, we’ll talk about it another day, right now you need to focus on getting yourself better.”

I pursed my lips, eyeing Sam who was sitting at my bedside, looking me up and down. There was a lot of emotions on her face, her jaw was locked and I could see some disappointment and concern in her eyes, amongst other things.

“Sam-.”

“We’ll talk about it another day Joey, I’ve already laid into McCabe about not giving into you, I don’t think Williamson is going to be letting you out of her sight anytime soon. I just want to know why you didn’t call me, or anyone. Sweet, there are so many people around who care about you and you worried us all, had you called anyone when your symptoms had started to show, or even the previous morning this all could have been avoided.”

Sam’s voice was stern, the voice she used when she mad at one of her girls for getting in unnecessary trouble.

“Didn’t want to bother anybody.”

Sam stood up at my reply, taking two short steps to my bedside and looking at Kim.

“Nobody in this room would have felt bothered, you were sick y/n, seriously sick and had Kim or Leah not decided to come and check on you, you could be dead right now, or in the ICU. You are so lucky to have a group of people that genuinely care and love for you and it worries me that you aren’t utlising that, what did I promise your parents when you told them that you were going to be making the move to London?”

I bit down hard on my lip. Sam had always been like my second mom, or older sister, ever since I’d started playing with the Matildas, when I was 15. She’d been a major influence in my life, so when my parents had found out that I had plans to move to North London to play for Arsenal at 19 they were displeased to say the least, I was hardly 18 as well, still a baby. They’d made Sam promise a bunch of things to them, considering we were both in London together.

“That you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and you’d keep me safe.”

Sam’s jaw locked even more than it previously had, her eyes were dark brown, stormy almost, I could feel the internal conflict she was going through just by looking at them.

“Exactly, so how do you think it makes me feel when you are endangering yourself? It makes me feel like I should be calling your parents and telling them that maybe this wasn’t the best decision, maybe you need another year or two at home before you can live by yourself out here.”

I shook my head at Sam, that was the last thing I wanted. After all, it had taken so much begging with my parents to get me out here in the first place, being sent back practically ensured they’d never let me come back out here.

“Sam, please, this is where I need to be.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that those words are true, on a playing level you should be here. But you continue to prove that you can’t be trusted to make decisions for yourself. Going out in the snow was crazy, not telling anyone you felt sick was crazy. You're not proving to me or your parents that this was a good idea.”

I could feel tears brimming up in the back of my eyes. It had taken a lot of effort to get my parents to let me be here, there was nothing they wanted less than to send their eighteen year old daughter to London, all by herself, playing in a senior women's team.

“Please, please let me stay. I can’t go home, if I go home then that’s the end for me, Perth won’t take me back after how I left. My parents have enough on their plate with six other kids, let alone having to deal with me, please, I need to stay. I’ll make better decisions, I promise, please just let me stay.”

I’d shot up in the bed, tugging the cords and blankets up with me. Sam sat herself down on the edge of my bed, looking at me eye to eye.

“I know you’re sorry, and I really want to believe that you can do this, there is nothing that I want more than for you to be here and proving how amazing you are, but your risking your own health Joey, and I toe the line there. What happens when you get injured and decide not to tell anybody, I know you and I know that you are never going to ask people for help and I can’t be around 24/7 here to look out for you, if I could I would. I can’t trust that you are going to look after yourself when I’m not here.”

I felt a series of big, fat, wet, warm tears drip down my cheek, I felt like shit and all of my dreams were being crushed.

“We’ll look after her, we’ll take her in if we have to. Nobody wants to see y/n/n going home because of this, we’ll look out for her, please don’t make her go home.”

It was Beth’s voice, from the other side of the room that caught my attention. There was a guilty expression across her face, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin and Beth all carrying the same similar guilty expression, my accomplices.

Sam turned to Beth, it was clear she was tossing up her options.

“Beth’s right, she should stay, she’s worked hard enough to stay and we can hardly afford losing any defenders right now. I’ll take her in, she can move into the spare room in my house, I run a tight ship, I’ll keep her under control.”

It was the voice of Leah that was both my saving grace and sent a chill of fear down my spine. Moving in with Leah didn’t exactly sound like my dream situation, I knew that Leah would hold me accountable for my shit, something I wasn’t necessarily ready to deal with. Sam had immense respect for the England captain though, often times she’d expressed to me how much she admired Leah for doing what she did at such a young age, she was stern though, she didn’t forget anything and nothing got past Leah.

“Okay, if she can move in with Williamson then she can stay, this is all stuff we can talk about when you are feeling better though, you need your rest joey, with all those meds running through your body god knows how tired you must be, hm?”

I squirmed a little bit under the covers, not wanting to give into Sam’s words but also not denying that she was right, I did feel tired. Sam’s hand found its way to my cheek, wiping away the tears I had shed and giving me a little smile, the smile she kept for these moments, the rough ones that warranted some kind of assurance that it was all going to be okay.

“Go to sleep Joey, we’ll figure it all out when you are feeling better, right now you need rest, so you can feel better.”

I relaxed back into the uncomfortable hospital pillows, that all of a sudden didn’t feel so uncomfortable to my body, which was slowly starting to fade into a deep cloud of sleep. Sam pressed a kiss to my hairline before sitting back down in her seat and watching me drift off to sleep. Maybe everything wasn’t perfect, maybe I still had things that I needed to learn but I did have one thing, and that was a family that I’d found in my teammates.

[oh-no-its-bird]

You know how when you spend a lot of time moving— on a boat, on a plane, in a car. Or doing a repetitive activity— dancing, skating, gymnastics; Later that night you can still feel the pull of movment?

You'll lay there and feel your body sway as it tries to keep it's balance through the remembered lull of tide and turbulance; Or close your eyes and imagine yourself falling into a spin in a way that feels so viscerally real that for a moment you can even feel the vertigo of going that fast. The movement so ingrained into your body and consciousness that you find yourself falling back into it whenever your mind quiets and your body falls still.

So anyways that but for Tobirama and Izuna's fighting. They've fought eachother since they were children, they know eachothers moves moves like the back of their own hands. After so many years it's such a familiar dance that when they go home and close their eyes, they can still feel their bodies being pulled into the well practiced movements. They remain still but can feel the way their hands fly through seals so viscerally that they have to be careful not to accidentally start cycling chakra.

Or they'll feel the familiar push and pull dance of battle so strongly that their muscles twitch as they're tricked into thinking they're still moving. The phantom pains and patterns of the fight they know so well

"I could fight you in my sleep" taken to it's extreme, it's quite possible that they could fall into the familiar and fight eachother in their sleep

Actually running with that, I think one of them should be a sleep walker but like. Instead of just walking around they start to phantom fight the other in familiar movements.

Where's my fic where Izuna sleep fights an imagined Tobirama I need that on my desk immediatley. Madara worriedly watches over his brother but, having read somewhere that its unwise to wake sleepwalking up (especially so when they're activley holding a weapon lmao) he just kinda. Watches over him. And after a couple times of this happening he starts to recognize a pattern in Izuna's movements, and after a little longer still he realizes Izuna is tracing through the same battles

Just a short thing of Madara idly watching his brother sleep fight, piecing together bits and pieces ab thus person he's fighting through the cues of how Izuna defends and attacks against them

Later for whatever reason, probably later in peace time, I need Tobirama and Madara to have a spar. And at first it's going kinda whatever, they're both very talented, but then Madara kinda gets a brain itch and remembers those sleep fights he'd always see Izuna moving through. And without even thinking ab it, he flawlessly replicates one of the moves exactly where Izuna would have (thanks sharingan)

And like. Ok so if this is an Izuna died canon compliant thing, Tobirama instinctivley reacts how he would with Izuna then probably goes dead white and immediatley loses the fight bc hes thrown off so fucking hard he can't compute

And if it's an Izuna lives you get kind of the same reaction but minus the angst. So Tobirama is totally thrown off, and his movment kinda just. Stutters. He mindlessly slides into continuing to try to react like he would to Izuna, this muscle memory that's so ingrained into him that he could quite literally do it in his sleep. But Madara isn't Izuna, so when he flips back into fighting like himself, Tobirama just totally fucks himself over

Madara almost fucking beheads him by going for the head in an easily blockable move when Izuna would have immediatley gone for his side instead, and so Tobirama instinctivley defends his side

He gets yelled at for that one but is too busy laying on his back staring up at the sky with a deeply offended, shocked and confused expression to hear any of it

Tobirama's one true infallible weakness: He's so used to fighting Izuna that if you manage to replicate Izuna's style of fighting in the right way and trick his muscle memory into flipping that switch, you can totally fuck him up and over

Anyways, Madara, who can replicate Izuna's moves bc smthn smthn sharingan and having seen him do that sleep fight against Tobirama so many times, using this as an excuse to drag Tobirama into tons of training matches where he absoloutley beats his ass. And Tobirama letting this happen bc holy shit he needs to be trained out of that bad habit

It goes both ways tho too, if someone does that to Izuna but w Tobirama's moves then he's FUCKED. Luckily no one can replicate the way he fights nearly well enough to do that, and Izuna's also aided by the fact that Tobirama is really tall so the pool of people who might be able to pull it off right is narrowed down even further bc your height and weight absoloutley effects the specific angle of how you fight and their blades might meet

Ohhh actually maybe that could be a thing too. Someone replicates Tobirama's style of fighting and fights Izuna, and Izuna keeps getting tripped up bc these are Tobirama's moves but they aren't coming from the right angle or with the right amount of force

Anyways that's ur word vomit for the day time to clock out 👍

[youphoriaot7]

...oh, holy shit. Did the Federation just give us their experiment plan??

GROUP #0001 - Chayanne, Leonarda, Ramón, Dapper, Bobby, Tílin, JuanaFlippa, Trumpet Department of Convivial Condition Observation

These were the first eggs. The first batch of eight. Put out as a test, a blatant test: can you keep them happy? I wasn't around at the start of the server so I'm going off of a lot of hearsay here, but from the best I can understand the eggs were supposed to be a week or so(??) long experiment to help the two languages of the server come together and spend time with each other. The happiest egg at the end of the week(??) would "win." It was somewhat competitive if I'm remembering right?? That got thrown out the window as the eggs kept running, but initially, it was more like that. (I could be so wrong. Sorry.)

Regardless, "Convivial Condition Observation": breaking this down real quick. Convivial means "(of a person) cheerful and friendly; jovial." Essentially, happiness. Condition being the...condition of either the eggs or the islanders, or both. Observation being the act watching them that the Federation is doing.

"Convivial Condition Observation," or, let's see how well you can keep these eggs happy. And, alternatively/in addition, how happy it keeps you.

GROUP #0002 - Tallulah, Pomme, ______ Department of Subsistence Monitoring

The first thing that stuck out to me with this group was the fact that Tallulah and Pomme were found in very similar ways. Pomme was stuck hidden in the wall, and Tallulah was found hidden in the attic of the adoption center. If the third egg's name really is six blanks, and stands for MEMORY as I'm suspecting it might, then that egg was also hidden—to the point where Cellbit needed coords just to find its adoption center.

"Subsistence Monitoring" breakdown: Subsistence means "the action or fact of maintaining or supporting oneself at a minimum level." Monitoring being the act of observation that the Federation is doing.

"Subsistence Monitoring," or, let's see how well these eggs can take care of themselves without any external help.

GROUP #0003 - Sunny, Pepito, Empanada Department of Permanent Surveillance

This one is a bit alarming, I'm not gonna lie? The clear tie here between the three eggs is that all three were found on Egg Island. The name of the island could possibly have something to do with it? I really don't think I can pin down a definite decision for this answer until we know what the Federation was trying to surveillance.

"Permanent Surveillance," or, let's keep an eye on...something. Egg Island? The islanders?

GROUP #0004 - Richarlyson, ___ __ Department of System Analysis

I'm going to come in straight off the bat and tell you I have no idea what they could be doing in this group. "System Analysis" is incredibly vague, and likely intentionally so.

The best guess I can make is that the system being referred to is...the eggs. If EGG A1 is supposed to fill in the five blanks of the name, then this becomes obvious: the one time we saw this egg, ElQuackity was putting them through a parkour test. A parkour course is generally used to test skills.

...if I wanted to get really headcanon-y: Richarlyson's leg is canonically misdesigned. Running a parkour course with an egg younger than Richas could be the Feds trying to sort out what the issue with Richas' leg is/was.

Additionally, in the really headcanon-y realm, Romero Richas could be a fascinating way to show system malfunction. Just saying.

"System Analysis," or, let's make sure our experiments are working properly.

[1v6]

In The Blink of an Eye [G/T]

[Word count 1777]

Your typical borrower story... or is it really a borrower story at all?

Long, slender hands slammed the book on its cover, its owner too lazy to read any further. Glancing at his phone, the clock read: “12:05 A.M.”

There was no way he had been studying for only five minutes. Surely he had been studying for longer than that? If it was five minutes, why did it feel like an eternity to him?

It was not something he cared enough to think about any further either way. Five minutes or five hours, he felt equally burnt out from studying. 

At least he was five minutes more productive than yesterday.

He reached for his cup for some water, only to find it with as much water as a desert. In other words, he forgot he drank all the water.

On the bright side, it was an excuse for a break from all that studying, and he left his room for the kitchen. Obviously, to get some more water to drink, so he could then have an excuse to use the toilet, which would be another study break, assuming he would continue studying after refilling his water.

Or maybe he would sleep. It is late, even if he usually sleeps later than this. Way later than this.

Yeah, maybe he would after some water.

Somewhat clumsily reaching the water, he also somewhat clumsily refilled his cup for the night, miraculously without spilling anything in the dark, as he never bothered to turn on the kitchen lights. He couldn’t see well without his glasses anyway, what’s the difference between not seeing shit and not seeing shit?

And so, just as he turned away to leave, something flashed in the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to the left instinctively, trying to see what it was.

Nothing out of the ordinary— how is it possible?

Could it have been a cockroach? Perhaps not. They tend to have a weird, lingering odour when they do infest the house. A gecko could’ve been more reasonable given the speed, if what he saw was real, and not a trick of the eye as a cause of forgetting his glasses upstairs. But just in case, he should check it first, if not for the sake of hygiene, then for the sake of being able to sleep soundly tonight.

He hated pests, and the lack of glasses is not going to stop him from trying to eradicate them. Eyes never leaving the spot he believed the bug was, his hand slowly reached the can of insecticide sitting in the corner just for situations like this. If it was a bug, he’s going to kill it without hesitation - just strike at them by drowning them in half of the bottle of that shit— an easy solution to an easy problem, right?

Shaking the can of insecticide, making clink, clink, clink sounds, an alarm to anything that could be targeted by the poison sitting inside, he approached the kitchen counter with small steps, slow and cautious, as if the kitchen counter itself is the enemy.

A small step, followed by another small step…then a Big Sudden Leap - only to detect zero lifeforms in said area.

Huh?

He looked behind the nearest thing there was - the toaster - and saw nothing. Just to be sure, he looked around the toaster - there was still nothing.

He was confused, as he was quite sure that he had seen something. Or was he? There was a small bubble of doubt, now thrown into the mixture of his current emotions. He would stay longer to confirm his suspicions, but it was late, and at this point, there was definitely no more reason to continue with this futile attempt of searching for proof of his figments of his imagination. His fear slightly convinced by the visual proof of nothing, he set the insecticide back down in the corner.

Cup of water in hand a minute later, he prepared to head back to his bedroom upstairs.

There was something again!

This time, there wasn’t something he saw, but something he heard. A very faint scutter that came from below the kitchen counter this time, no longer at the previous area he was looking at just now. His fear of insects reignited again, begging him to deal with this pest once and for all.

Keeping his eyes on the area, he spotted a small dark blob moving towards the gap between the counter and the wall, too small for him to get them if it made it there. The cockroach! There was no time for the bug spray if he wanted to catch it now. He poured the water into the sink, now holding an empty cup.

The deed was done. The war has ended, peace returns to shine proudly on his home! At least, for the time being.

He is currently in a game of catch, with him as the determined lion, and the cockroach the panicking deer. The cup now a repurposed emergency cage, he bent down to get closer towards the ground, and lunged forward with the cup in hand, slamming it down onto the cockroach. 

He will have to deal with the cockroach soon. The cup can not stay on the ground forever— He had to lift it up at one point, which is a terrifying idea: He did not know if this cockroach could fly. What if it were to immediately fly into his face the moment he tipped the cup?!

The second option was more sympathetic to his fear: Leave it closed until it dies. The only two problems that come with this solution, though, are equally a nuisance. For one, the cup was opaque— he would not be able to know when it would be safe to open the cup as he is unable to see when it would be dead. Secondly, the fact that he knew cockroaches are very good at staying alive! He definitely does not want to leave that cup on the ground for, say, three months straight.

Though he has another side that has a conflict with his fear of bugs. People, when grown up, tend to lose their natural childlike wonder towards mundane things, causing life to lose its colour the older one gets. He, though appearing as an uninteresting nobody to anyone passing by, has not yet lost that sense of curiosity. His fear of bugs and his curiosity - towards bugs - in this case, clashed against each other.

A simple solution to making peace with both sides is to separate them using a glass wall. The same way the bug will not make physical contact with him, the fear will not leave the confines of its prison.

And that is what he plans to do.

He will not kill it.

He will simply change its prison walls.

Taking a glass this time, he held it next to the quiet, opaque cup.

The kitchen was silent, and even more so now that he completely forgot to breathe. His sweaty hand had started to fog up the glass a little. He paused, mentally preparing himself for the cup swap.

It’s just a cockroach, he reasoned with himself. There was nothing to be afraid of, and it is most likely more scared of you than you are of it.

A deep breath.

A pause.

The next thing he knew, the cups were swapped.

But what he saw was not a cockroach.

It was a…borrower?

Should she start doubting her own existence? Nay, she is very much real and tangible, despite whatever rusty thoughts are pouring into his mind as of this moment. She pinched herself on the shoulder.

“You’re real?!”

Just to confirm her reality.

She simply stared at him as the human squinted his eyes at her.

Is he trying to show that she is that insignificant compared to him? Sure, he is large in size, but there was no need to rub it in her face. She can assess her situation quite well, very unlike her captor, thank you very much.

Has he never seen someone like her before? What is a “borrower”? This is starting to feel more and more like an insult to her dignity. Stripped of her name, then her dignity, what’s next? It was already bad enough that she was captured like an animal, but to be captured by such a dimwit just seems precisely what the Court would consider an entertaining joke.

“Are you a borrower?”

Fortunately, being captured by an idiot has its advantages. An easy escapade can be done in no time, especially for someone as capable as her— as long as she can find a chance to do so, and humans rarely have any room for that, given their physical superiority. She could make the glass brittle enough to break and make a run for it, but—

“Maybe you’re not talking or something because whatever rules you have stop you from doing so, but I want to talk, not to harm you…?”

He sounded like he is not even confident with his own statement. He could try to lie better, perhaps. A decent attempt, however not one that can fool her into talking. She owes humans nothing. There is no favour to return, perhaps except trapping him in a glass, if she could.

She knocked on the glass to examine her prison walls better.

Clink, clink!

She looked at him again. Eyes droopy, he opened his mouth to let out a small yawn, scaring her just a little before she reigned in her fear.

Humans have no proper etiquette.

What felt like an eternity continued with nothing but a staring contest. And she will wait for however long she has to in order to escape. He said he was tired.

She still refused to talk?! OK, he thought, makes sense if they don’t trust humans or whatever.

Then she will wait until he sleeps.

But still, this is real. A borrower in front of him.

He knows the right thing to do would be to let her go and respect her right to liberty, but also, he knew that he would definitely never see her again if he did that.

So he brought her, covered glass and all, to his bedroom, trapped. After all, what’s the harm in doing that if she is in no danger? Not that he plans to harm her anyway. It is just keeping her in one place where he can keep an eye on her.

Yet, the pair of eyes supposed to keep an eye on her are closing. He blinked harder, trying to keep himself awake.

No— I can’t sleep yet— This is a once in a lifetime thing...

A minute later, soft snoring left the confines of warm blankets.