#the amount of googling i had to do for this is... over the top

[reidmania]

use somebody | spencer reid

part two

summary; spencer doesn’t believe someone like you could ever like someone like him, but he would do anything for a chance.

warnings; fem!reader, reader is described as being really really kind, bau!worker reader, fluff (slight angst bc spencer doubts himself) reader is a bundle of joy idk, spencer is absolutely disgustingly in love with reader. reader has a dog ( a golden retriever ) reader IS A BOOK LOVER, reader is shorter than spencer., no love confession but like there basically is. maybe a part two coming idk!

an; this is based off use somebody by kings of leon bc that song just AHHHH

‘I've been roamin' around, always lookin' down at all I see, painted faces fill the places I can't reach. You know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody, someone like you and all you know and how you speak, countless lovers under cover of the street, you know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody. Someone like you, off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep, wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat. I hope it's gonna make you notice, I hope it's gonna make you notice someone like me’

If there was a single light in a room, it would be your smile. Spencer had decided that the minute you introduced yourself to him on your first day, your wide smile was the first thing he noticed, then your kind voice — ever since Spencer Reid’s heart had your name written all over it and you had no idea.

You had been talking to Emily, your hands flinging around the more excited you got about whatever it was you were talking about, you were still smiling when Spencer approached with furrowed eyebrows after Emily had noticed him in the doorway and called him over to introduce himself to the team newest member.

You had introduced yourself with probably the widest, and sweetest grin he had ever seen. He almost forgot about the amount of germs spread through hand shaking when you offered him yours. He was pretty sure he felt the most embarrassment and disappointment when he didn’t forget — and turned down your handshake with his name and a silly ramble about what your name means historically.

He didn’t miss the way your smile never dampened — not even after his rejection of your offered hand, not during his embarrassingly long ramble, not as you listened intriguingly and then told him how cool it was that he just knew that off the top of his head.

That was a year, forty three days, 16 hours and 27 minutes ago — not that Spencer was counting. But he definitely was.

Your kindness won his heart from that moment. Your smile became his moral support during a particularly tough case. It seemed all the less tense when you would meet his eyes from across the room and offer him the sweetest smile. Your small gifts you left around for each member of the team became what he looked forward to and the end of every week — each more thoughtful than the last.

Spencer had kept the collection of small gifts you had given him on the shelf of his bedroom. Each one was specific to him. If someone on the team had mentioned wanting something or something they liked — at the end of the week it would be sitting on their desk with a little pink sticky note and a small ‘I hope you like it!’ in your hand writing.

He noticed that a lot of the time your gifts for him reference whatever he had rambled about the most that week, because he never explicitly told you he wanted anything or liked something because he knew you would go out of your way to get him it — you however found a way anyways.

Doctor who figurines, books, dvd’s. one week you had noticed him fidgeting more than normal and on the friday evening you had left a small collection of different fidget toys for him, with the same pink sticky note that wrote, ‘Picking at your skin is bad!! it can lead to infections and sometimes if you do it too much you could end up needing surgery. (I dont know if thats true, doctor google wasn’t helpful!) I hope these help’

He hadn’t picked at his skin since, if he was fidgeting it was with one of the small metal fidgets you had gifted him.

“Good morning!” You chirped — suddenly the room seemed brighter as you walked into the bullpen, your bag was slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards your desk. You turned your head to offer Spencer a sweet smile.

He returned it, lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers in a gentle waving. A habit he had picked up from you. You never just waved like everyone else did, instead you just held up your hand and wiggled your fingers. When you were asked about it you had smiled and shrugged and said it seemed like your fingers were dancing.

Spencer was pretty sure it was the sweetest reasoning for something he had even heard, but maybe that was just the fact it was coming from you.

“Did you like the dvd I gave you on Friday? The documentary one — if you have even watched it yet! I thought it was interesting!!” You said as you placed your bag on your desk. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest at the way your hair fell over your face when your head dropped down to look at your desk.

He shuffled slightly at his desk to sit up a little bit straighter. “I watched it.” He stated. Any dvd you gave him he watched the night he had got it. This one particularly — he had known all of the information that was in it, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it any less — because you liked it enough to recommend it to him.

“I thought it was interesting.” He nodded, you lifted your head and smiled and he started to wonder at what point that sweet smile would stop having an effect on him. He partly hoped it never would. “I watched another one yesterday. I think you’d like it.” He said, not mentioning the fact he had paid extra attention to all of it, making sure it included something you were interested in, just so he could recommend it to you then talk to you about it the next day.

You grinned, leaning against your desk as you looked at him. He was thankful your desk was so close to his. That you were so close to him. Close enough to have a conversation without having to talk across the room, close enough that he could lean over and help with whatever you needed if you asked.

“The documentaries you watch might be a little above my expertise. I think I’ll just be confused the entire time” You giggled out, tilting your head slightly to the side. He shook his head instantly, eyes following the hair that fell the way your head tilted, down your shoulder.

“You’re smart, you’d understand.” He said.

You smiled and raised your eyebrow slightly, “I’m not smart like you’re smart, Spence.” You shook your head, just as he had a few minutes ago.

He shrugged, “Not many people are” It came out cockier than he intended, he was about to apologise for how it sounded before he heard you let out a gutty laugh. A real laugh. “If- If you’d like.. We uh- We could watch it together and I could explain to you whatever you don’t understand” He added, then he realised he had basically just invited you to hang out with him. Just you and him, in an unprofessional setting. Now his mind was fuelled by the fear of rejection.

That fear dimmed when your smile widened. “Really? That would be great! I’d love that.” You had said.

Spencers mind went to almost a million different places in that moment. He thought about curling up with you on his couch, the documentary playing on his tv as you focused intently on whatever information was being said, he would admire you, he would ache to pull you closer and kiss your smiling lips.

Then he remembered how kind you were. The memory was both a blessing and a curse because then he remembered that your acceptance was probably an acceptance from your kind heart and want to spend time with your friend, opposed to wanting to spend time with him.

You smiled at him sweetly again before you were rushing off to greet JJ and tell her about something silly or maybe talk about whatever the two of you did on the weekend. He knew you often went out with the girls of the team on weekends.

Those nights he would lay in bed and wonder what you were doing, what you were wearing, how your hair was done, if you were laughing at a strangers jokes — you probably were. He knew that because you laughed at everyone’s jokes.

if all the joy in the world was wrapped up into a bundle and forced upon a person — that person was you. Spencer didn’t know if he had ever seen you not smiling and honestly his heart ached for the day he would have to.

“Hey Spence?” His head turned instantly towards the sound of your voice, he looked around to see you on your tiptoes trying to reach a file from a top shelf. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You didn’t need to say anything else before he was standing and walking over towards you.

He reached up, fingertips skimming along the files, “Which one do you need?” He asked gently, his eyes dipping away from the files to meet yours as you returned flat on your feet, a grateful smile on your lips, staring up at him.

“Um” You paused, eyebrows furrowing before a laugh left your lips, “The.. second one- I think” You paused before nodding.

He smiled “You think?” reaching up to pull out the second file nonetheless. He heard you sigh dramatically — he didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling still, probably pushing hair behind your ear.

“Yes, I think.” You stated. He pulled out the file, handing it to you. You took it gently, flicking through it for a moment, your eyes dancing along the words on the page before nodding.

You scrunched up your nose a little when you looked back up at him. “— I thought right! Thank you Spence. You’re amazing and great and awesome” You rambled, flooding him with praise. He felt his cheeks warm at your never ending compliments despite how often you gave them. You constantly reminded him how amazing you thought he was — when he was doing the most minimal things.

He wanted to take it as a sign that maybe you felt the same way he did but then you’d flood someone else with the same praise and that flame of hope would dwindle down just as fast as it came alight.

“You’re welcome” He settled on as his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, your cheeks were a warm shade of pink and he wondered if that had anything to do with him rather than the fact the room was just a little bit warmer than normal.

You grinned and turned away. He followed as you walked back towards the desks. He sat down at his desk, swivelling his chair to face your desk. “I was thinking — if you wanted, this weekend we could watch that documentary at mine, my dog gets a bit excited around new people but he could stay outside if it makes you more comfortable— Oh and theres a new take away shop near my house if you wanted to get dinner” You rambled about your plan’s absentmindedly as you looked over the case.

Spencer felt his heart pull for a number of reasons, one because he didn’t even know you had a dog. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else did and this was just a piece of information he had missed out on. Secondly, at the fact you were serious about watching the documentary with him. You actually wanted to.

He had partly assumed you had just agreed because you were kind and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and it would just be plans you two never really followed through with. He should’ve known better — because it was you.

“You don’t have plans with the girls?” He asked, eyebrows pinched together because he could clearly remember this morning hearing you and Emily talk about where you guys would go this weekend.

You let out a gentle laugh, shaking your head. “Im making plans with you actually. I go out with them every weekend, I’m sure they will survive without me for one.” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart felt like it was being clenched by someones tight hand.

He tried to hide the fact his cheeks had turned an ugly shade of pink, and that his eyes had blinked away from your captivating gaze for a moment. “That- Yeah- Yeah. That would, thats fine. Your dog is fine. We can get dinner.” He stammered out, because apparently your kindness took away his ability to think straight. Although he knew that already.

“Great!” You smiled. Suddenly Spencer hoped this week would go fast. He turned his gaze back to yours as a question weighed on his tongue, a wonder.

“What type of dog do you have?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity as he watched you reorganise your desk. How you were smiling while doing something so mundane had his stomach filling with an ache of longing.

You raised your eyes back to his, a gasp of excitement leaving your lips at the opportunity to talk about your dog. “A golden retriever!!” You said, before going into a ramble about your dog.

He grinned as he listened to every word. He couldn’t help but think, a golden retriever. That was so fitting.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting at the end of the week, was a book sitting on his desk. The book wasn’t the surprising part. It was the pink sticky note and what it had written on it that sparked his curiosity.

‘I read this last week and I know romance novels aren’t usually your style but I thought of you. Its annotated. The key is on the back. Have the greatest night <3’

You had already left for the night after dropping everyone’s weekly small gift off around their desks and waving goodbye. Spencer knew you left a little earlier than anyone else to get the bus. You knew how to drive, you had a car. When he had asked you why you got the bus everyday you had told him you just enjoyed people watching.

He constantly worried about what may happen with the dangers of public transport and with how kind you were — well you would be an easy target. How could he tell you that he worried about you when you gave him the sweetest reasoning in the world? How could he tell you he worried without pouring his heart out to you.

Spencer went home that night and in bed he read the book you had gifted him — you were right, romance novels weren’t necessarily his favourite but it didn’t stop him from reading it with just as much interest because it was you that recommended it.

His eyes danced along the key on the back for your annotation. Pink was things you found sweet, green was moments you found interesting, yellow was things that moments that made you sad. — that one made Spencer’s lips pull into a tug because how dare anything make someone so sweet so sad?

But what really caught his interest was the blue. ‘things i want you to know’ It made him wonder what things in this book could possibly be something you wanted him to know.

When reading, he came across many colours and lines highlighted, most in pink and green, a few in yellow, but there was only one part highlighted in blue, it was lines in a conversation in the middle of a particularly mushy love confession between the two characters of the book.

‘You smile a lot.’ was highlighted in blue,

and then, “When you’re around, its hard not to’

Spencer didn’t know what it meant — thats not true. He knew what it meant, he knew what you were saying but he didn’t know what it meant about how you felt about him. His mind swirled with the possibility that you might feel something for him.

How it was possible that someone like you, could ever feel anything for someone like him had his mind in a frenzy.

That didn’t matter when Spencer finished the book and added it to the collection of items you had gifted him, he kept the sticky note and placed it back on the book. He looked over the collection — each gift partnered with the sticky note you had written when gifting them.

Spencer Reid loved you, and if he played any part in making you smile — That was enough for him.

[beenbaanbuun]

fever w/ kang yeosang

words - an amount 🙂‍↕️

genre - hurt/comfort, sickfic

warnings - food avoidance because of illness, mentions of vomiting, reader is a little bratty but it’s the fever talking, yeosang is tired :((, not proof read

——————————————————————————

“you need to eat something, baby,” yeosang grumbles, arm folded crossly over his half-exposed pecs. you can’t help but focus on the way he’s standing there in nothing but a tank top and some shorts while you’re sat shivering in one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from his closet. you’ve been blaming the fever for how cold you seem to be at the minute, but you’ve always ran a little colder than your boyfriend. whenever he needs a sweater, you need a sweater, a coat and a scarf. you’re just a little nesh, you suppose.

your eyes flicker around the kitchen, studying everything that crosses your vision. perhaps you could have some toast, you think as your eyes land on the half-finished loaf of bread on the counter. then you think about how heavy your stomach feels, even when it’s empty, and you realise that perhaps toast isn’t the best option. you turn your nose up and move on to the bowl of fruit that yeosang had just refilled this morning. the scent of the bananas alone is enough to make you feel sick, and perhaps the citrus fruits aren’t the best choice when you’ve been struggling to keep food down.

“i’m only going to throw it up again,” you argue, trying your hardest to make your expression pathetic and sad. you commit to it, bringing out the sad arched brows and the big wet eyes. your bottom lip juts out just a little and for extra effect, you can’t help but wobble it a little. for a moment of two, you’re almost sure it’ll work. yeosang’s eyes soften and his arms go limp and fall back to his sides. you’re almost positive that he’ll let you off with another day of medicine and water, you can practically feel it on your tongue—

“you don’t know until you try.”

your shoulders sink upon hearing your words and your features drop, expressing only apathy and defeat. sure, the puppy dog eyes have never worked on him before, but there’s a first time for everything. you were certain that this would be that time.

“yeosang!” you whine, trying to grab his attention as he turns to face the countertop. he whines your name back in exactly the same nasally tone you used. “please! my throat already hurts from all the acid; i just want one day where i don’t throw up. it’ll make me feel less miserable.”

he ignores you, lifting his phone from the counter and typing a few words into safari. you wish you could see i what it says, but from your position, huddled up on a dining chair—which you would only move from if a hefty bribe was offered your way—you can’t even dream of looking around his oversized torso.

damn him for getting buff.

“google says banana’s are goo—”

“no,” you cut him off, head shaking wildly like a petulant child.

“baby~”

“they smell bad!”

with a sigh, yeosang goes back to looking.

“dry brown rice?” he offers meekly, already foreseeing the outcome of his offer. he doesn’t even have to turn around to see your face screwed up in displeasure; it’s already so clear in his mind. “nevermind, it was a stupid suggestion.”

you hum in agreement, the small sound making him crack a small smile. despite being incredibly difficult, yeosang can admit that you do have your sweet moments while you’re feverish. your mind may be muddled and your body doing everything in its power to make your life a living hell, but you still somehow manage to put a smile on his face.

if he wasn’t desperate to not catch whatever 18th century plague has taken up residence in your body, he’d spin around and kiss you. squish your cheeks together like he always does when he wants to annoy you a little, bring your face up to his, and just kiss you. it’s almost impossible not to when he’s been missing out on the feeling of your lips on his for the past few days, but when he hears the sound of your stomach churning and a pained groan leave your lips, he remembers exactly why he’s doing this to himself.

“how about broth?” he suggests, putting his mind back on the task at hand, “you like broth, baby.”

he’s right, you do like broth. or at least you like it when you’re not feeling like satan himself has put his little tapdancing shoes on specifically to do a jig atop your stomach. instinctively you wrap an arm around your abdomen which after a short period of docility, has began to cramp again. that broth really doesn’t sound appealing right now…

“yeosang…” you say, dejected and miserable. he sighs, understanding exactly what you mean by saying his name in that tone of voice; it’s a disheartened no from you.

and while it pains him to be forceful with you—or anyone for that matter—he can’t just sit and watch you waste away over a poorly stomach. he has to put his foot down for once.

“baby, you need to eat,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. he hates being so bossy with you, almost as much as he hears the weary sound pass from your lips just after his soft command. “just a small bowl, okay? just for me; your yeosang?”

and while it’s an obvious guilt trip, a little bribe to make you feel a little bad about refusing to eat, you can’t help but fall for it. you sigh, wrapping your arms around your knees so you can pick at your fingers guiltily. it’s not like you can help being sick, but maybe you have been a little dramatic about the whole refusing to eat thing. sure, your stomach churns at even the thought of food, but yeosang is right; if you don’t try, you won’t know. the idea of throwing up again frightens you, but broth is a liquid; it’ll be easy to come back up.

you resign with a minuscule hum, so quiet it’s almost silent.

“fine,” yeosang hardly believes the word when you say it with so much resignation, “one small bowl of broth…”

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)

The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...

gif is not mine (found it on google)

"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"

„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 

Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 

It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 

„Oh, House and me?“

„(Y/N) and me?“ 

„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 

„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 

Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 

„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 

„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 

„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 

House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 

„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.

„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 

„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 

„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 

„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.

„(Y/N)?“  

Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 

„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 

„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.

Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 

„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 

„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 

„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 

„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 

„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 

Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 

„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 

Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.

The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 

„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 

„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 

„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 

„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 

"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.

„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.

„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.

„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 

„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 

The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 

„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.

„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 

„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 

„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 

„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.

„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 

„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 

„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 

„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  

„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.

„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 

„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 

Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 

But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 

„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.

„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.

„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.

„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 

„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.

„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 

„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.

„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.

„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“

Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.

„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.

„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 

„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 

„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 

„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.

„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.

„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.

„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 

„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 

„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 

You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 

„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.

„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“

You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 

After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 

„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.

 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?

„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 

„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 

„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 

„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 

After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.

„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.

„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  

„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 

„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 

„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.

„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.

„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.

„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 

„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.

„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.

„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 

„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 

„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.

„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 

„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.

„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 

„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.

„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.

„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.

„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 

„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 

„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“

You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 

„Okay, Greg.“ 

[justheblueberry]

handbinding of A Study in Scarlette by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

this bind has been in my head since i first read the fic like, three years ago. i dreamed up so many ideas for it, for so long, and now it's finally done! the typeset was actually done in early 2022, back when i was still using google docs, but it went through a few iterations because i was just. so. fiddly. with every aspect of this book. it needed to be perfect (as close to perfect as i, an amateur bookbinder out of my depth, can get) and it had to be absolutely over the top, to reflect the insane amount of love and care that the author put into the fic itself.

the first time i read this fic, i barely knew what detective conan was, much less all of the intricate plot details; i was just along for the ride, but by the end i was completely invested. i went back and watched through the anime as well as a few movies (it took me six months) and then read the fic again. and then a few more times. kaishin and the world of dcmk has utterly gripped me. it's 100% this fic's fault and i love it so, so, much.

i went through a few iterations of visual designs and i'm really happy with the little details i managed to squeeze in.

the entire color scheme is based around red, because 1) it's a murder mystery, 2) for scarlette shinamoto (and the title of the fic as well as the original holmes novel it references), and 3) the irony of "lady red" actually being red. the secret fourth reason is that i think red/gold is a super sexy color combo.

i sewed the textblock with red thread to reference holmes' "scarlet thread of murder".

another detail i love is the five yen coin bookmark, it was one of my first ideas and it turned out even better than i thought.

i wanted the endpapers to evoke a sense of the white marbled floor of the ballroom, with the glow-in-the-dark kaitou kid caricature being the luminol on the floor, and the little pops of red looks like blood that's been mixed in. i lucked out in that the other side of the endpaper was like a lavender-purpley color, i like to think of it as a little wink wink nudge to the color of the actual Lady Red.

the chapter pages got a few reworkings, but i'm happy with the illustrations i ended up doing for each of them. the chapter titles are one of my favorite things about the fic, each one has so much meaning packed into it and flows so beautifully, and i wanted to put as much care into making them pop as possible.

the cover was a linocut carving i designed and carved, which i then printed onto the bookcloth, and ironed on htv on top.

i also threw in a couple of my drawings of my favorite scenes.

this is getting way too long, so i'll end it here. i'll have a separate post detailing the process every step of the way, if anyone wants to take a closer look. this fic is kind of directly responsible for getting me into fanbinding, so it's safe to say it altered the course of my life. i now spend way too much time (and money) looking at book stuff.

kittebasu, if, somehow, you see this and would like an author copy, i would be honored to make one and ship it to you; i would be overjoyed to gift you with any art i have the ability to make, because the fics you wrote have irreversibly altered my brain chemistry, and being able to give back in any capacity would be a dream. (thank you.)

a few postscripts:

i am not selling any copies of this fic. partially because i believe in the gift economy of fandom as well as firmly keeping fanbinding a hobby that will stay unmonetized, but also because it took me months (years, if we are counting when i first finished the typeset) to finish this and i do not have the strength.

however, if you are also a fan of this fic and would like a copy, i honestly, fervently, encourage you to give fanbinding a try! renegade publishing and its discord server are an absolutely wonderful and free resource. i knew nothing about bookbinding and had zero materials when i first started, but i've learned so much thanks to the lovely people there. if you're still apprehensive about getting started, i'd be willing to share my typeset of this fic as well as answer any questions about the making of this book if you DM me.

[eddiediaaz]

alie! I absolutely adore this mirrorball x buck set that you made last year! (/post/701462848238403584/) (also I can't believe it's been a year, like seriously what is time?) I was wondering how you did the shattered glass effect in the first gif? in particular how you made the black and white gifs appear distorted within the glass if that makes sense? thank you!!!

ahhh thank you so much renee! literally what is time lol, this gifset is still one of my faves that i made. the shattered glass effect is mostly just a lot of layer masks to be honest hahaha. i'm so glad i still have the psd, so here's how i did it under the cut~

(this tutorial assumes you know how to put multiple gifs in the same canvas and are familiar with layer groups and masks)

I. PREPARATION

first things first, create an empty canvas of your desired size. mine was 540x540 px.

then, you need to find a cracked glass texture. if i remember correctly i simply googled something like "broken glass png", "cracked glass png", because i wanted something already transparent.

(a texture that's something like black lines over a white background definitely works too, you'll just have to put that layer's blending mode to darken or multiply.)

here's the png i used (and a download link for best quality):

and after positioning it into my canvas.

II. CREATING MAIN SECTIONS FOR GIFS

so basically when i did is i sectioned parts of the texture for each gif that i wanted to put. following the texture's lines, i zoomed in and carefuly drew a first shape along the lines with the polygon tool. you can also put a color fill layer behind the cracked glass layer so it's easier to see, like i did.

once you have your shape selected, click on the folder icon (1), then on the layer mask icon (2). it should give you a nice masked group to put gifs in hehe

then i repeated the process until i had all of my desired shapes. i've put some color layers so it's easier to see, but here are my 6 main shapes and how my layer groups look like so far:

III. GIFFING TIME

after screencaping and making all 6 gifs required for each section, you need to put all of them in the same canvas. i simply put one smart object gif layer in each group created earlier. then, i resized and rotated each gif to fit its group (by hitting ctrl + T while selecting the gif layer), as you can see with the gif labeled 6x02 in the layers preview. for the coloring, i went simple with black and white for most of them.

once i have all six gifs sharpened, colored, and placed in each shape group, the gif looks like this. the broken glass texture does most of the work to be honest:

obviously the center gif doesn't have any kind of effect, it's just colored as usual, so i'm not gonna go over it. it's just one gif layer in a masked group.

IV. SUBSECTIONS FOR DISRTORTED EFFECT

okay so for the distorted effect it's even more layer masks! basically i created more smaller sections within each main shapes already, still following the cracked glass texture's lines with the polygon tool and put them in individual masked groups like i did in the second step. here's how i ended up dividing each main sections:

yep, each color here is a different masked group, for example the 2nd and 3rd shape sections:

for each main shape section, you want to duplicate your gif layer the same amount of times as you have subsections within that shape. so if the main shape has 5 smaller subsections, i want 5 layers of that same gif. just make sure to not change its duration or position yet, and make sure the coloring layers/group stays on top of the groups in its shape section. then, simply put one gif layer duplicate in each group. example of my layers for the second shape so far:

then just repeat this until all subsections have its own gif layer.

V. DISTORTED EFFECT

this is the best part! and it's really easy. basically you want to slightly move each subsection by a few pixels, so they're in a slightly different position than the ones next to it.

to do so, select one of the gif layers and with the arrows on your keyboard, move it left or right, and even up or down if it looks good. i do this for all duplicated gif layers, making sure it looks like they're all slightly offset. focus on the cracked glass overlay's lines while nudging the gif layers, it's easy to see how the shapes break when you move them. for example here:

this is really just all trial and error, you just need to move each subsection gif layer by a few pixels with the keyboard arrows until it looks good to you.

here's my result once i've done this for all (23!!) subsections:

VI. FINAL TOUCHES

i don't think i did much else to this before typography besides adding a bit of contrast overall and a thin drop shadow to the cracked layer texture on top of everything. if you have a transparent png this definitely helps to give a bit more dimension to the effect. so here's the final result:

i hope that was clear enough hehe :D

[dr1lldash]

mechanic!venture x reader 2.2k (i started thinking last night and i could barely sleep i just wanted to write this. also i know nothing about cars, i googled car stuff to make this happen so if anything is wrong please lmk :3)

Your day went to shit rather quickly. After a long shift at work, you were on your way home just after sunset when your car’s battery light began to glow. You chose to ignore it, as you had the next day off, figuring that you could make it home and deal with it tomorrow.

You were wrong.

You were maybe halfway home when your engine sputtered and died, rolling to a stop in the middle of a street you’d only ever driven down. “Fuck.” You put your car in neutral, got out and started pushing, hoping that you could make it home before exhaustion overtook you.

Your eyes were starting to close, your legs starting to slow down, when an energetic voice called out from your left. “Hey there!” Your eyes snapped open, looking for the source, and you saw a figure standing outside, their silhouette illuminated by soft lighting behind them.

“Uh, hi.” You rubbed at your eyes, hoping to wake yourself up.

“Car trouble?”

You hesitated. “No, it’s just a nice night, I want to enjoy it.”

They laughed, and it made your heart flutter. “It is beautiful out, but it’s a little hot to be pushing your car, don’t you think? I might be able to help you.” They took a few steps towards you, still engulfed by the darkness. “We’re the only repair shop for a few miles. I can offer you a discount for your troubles.”

You hesitated again. You had no idea who this person was, or if they were telling the truth about being a mechanic. You could barely see anything, the sun already low in the sky, but you had your phone in your pocket if anything went wrong. Sleepiness clouded your judgment, and you gave in. “I would appreciate that, thank you.”

“No problemo.” They stuffed their hands in their pockets. “I’ll open up the garage, then I’ll come back out to push if you want to steer.”

You nodded, then realized they might not be able to see you nod. “Okay.” They walked off, almost jogging, and you made your way back up to sit in the front seat of your car. A metallic screech filled the air for just a moment as a garage opened up, light filling the area around you. You could see them a little bit better as they came back to your car, but you still couldn’t quite make out any of their features.You could, however, see the faded sign on top of the garage, reading Lindholm’s.

“Ready?” they called out from behind you.

“Ready!” you replied, facing towards the open window. They started pushing with a grunt of effort and you kept your hands on the wheel, steering ever so slightly to get yourself into the garage. You opened your door once you were in, careful not to hit anything in the crowded space. You stepped out, taking a look around and finally behind you, only to see one of the most attractive individuals you’d ever encountered.

Their hair was mostly up in a ponytail, with a small amount sticking to the back of their neck. They wore a set of dark green coveralls with the top pulled down, the arms knotted around their waist, leaving them in just a stained white tank top. Tattoos littered their body, the most prominent being a ring of flames around their neck, but several others that you couldn’t quite identify on their collarbones and all down their arms. You glanced back up to their face to see them breathing slightly heavily, dark brown eyes staring at the ground as one grease-stained hand played with a stud in their eyebrow. They glanced up at you and you’re unable to look away before they flash you a smile, showing off a chipped tooth.

“Hard part’s over!” They held a dirty hand out to you before looking down, wiping it off on their coverall pants and offering it again. “I’m Sloan.”

“[Y/N].” You grabbed their hand, allowing them to shake it vigorously for a few seconds before they pulled away.

“Do you need a drink or anything?” You shook your head, not wanting to be here any longer than you had to. Nothing against the admittedly hot mechanic, but you were getting more exhausted by the minute and you just missed your bed. “Alrighty then. You can take a seat over there,” they gestured to a flannel-covered chair, “I shouldn’t be too long.”

You did as they said, watching them as they worked. You started to fall asleep a few times, but managed to keep yourself awake. It didn’t take them long to work out the problem.

“Alternator’s busted.” They were still staring down into the engine, making sure that was the only issue.

“Can you fix it?”

“Of course I can!” Sloan looked up at you, flashing that smile once again. “Not tonight, though. Mr. Lindholm keeps that locked up, I’ll have to get into it tomorrow.” They paused. “I…understand if not, but I’d be more than happy to drive you home, make sure you get there safely.”

You were too tired to walk home at this point, so you find yourself agreeing. “I’m not far.”

Sloan helped you to get up, and you waited just outside the garage as they locked everything up for the evening. They placed their hand gently on your upper back, leading your sleepy figure to their car, a dirty, faded yellow pickup truck with a dozen stickers decorating the bumper. “Archeology rocks,” you read one out loud with a quiet laugh.

You took your seat in the passenger side, fastening your seat belt. Now, you’re still in the car with them, soft rock playing on the radio, doing your best to keep your eyes open as you direct them towards your home. They’re more of a careful driver than you would’ve thought, fully stopping at stop signs and using their turn signals more than a hundred feet before they turn despite nobody being on the road at this time.

You stumble out of the car when they drop you off. “Do you have work in the morning? I wish I could have helped more, I’d be more than happy to drive you.”

You shake your head. “I’m off tomorrow.” You punctuate your sentence with a yawn. “But I do have some errands to run, how long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour. I’ll bring you in, just give us a call when you’re awake.” You find yourself agreeing, taking a business card and stuffing it in your pocket. They wish you goodnight, you echo one back, and they drive off as you enter your home.

Sleep engulfs you wholly, more tired than you’ve been in months, maybe years. In the morning, you shower, get dressed, eat a quick breakfast and call the number on the card Sloan had given you the night before.

“Lindholm mechanics!” a chipper voice you didn’t recognize answers almost immediately. “How can we help you?”

“Uh, Sloan gave me this number, they were helping me last night and said they’d be able to help me get my car working again today.”

“Oh! You must be [Y/N]! Let me grab them for you.” Before you can respond, you’re listening to hold music. You’re waiting less than thirty seconds when it’s cut off.

“[Y/N]! Hey!” You recognize Sloan’s voice, even as fuzzy as it is over the phone. “I’m working on your alternator right now, do you need a ride?”

“I can walk if you’re still working,” you start.

“No worries! I’m almost done, I’ll come and pick you up. A little break should do me good.” You give them your address and go to wait outside.

It’s not too terribly hot, and a gentle breeze is keeping the temperature even lower. You’re watching the trees dance when a truck you vaguely recognize pulls up. They roll down the passenger side window and call out, “Heyo! Hop in!” They reach over their console to open the door for you. You step up, making yourself comfortable on the seat and buckling your seatbelt before they drive back in the direction they just came from.

This time, you’re able to get a slightly better look at the interior of their car. An ice-cream cone shaped air freshener is hanging from their rearview mirror, filling the car with the subtle scent of vanilla and sugar. In their cupholder is a pet rock, crystals sticking out of the top and googly eyes shaking on the front. Their dashboard is covered in stickers, some that you recognize as being related to mythology from around the world, others that you couldn’t begin to describe. You look over at Sloan, seeing them dressed in basically the same way as the previous night, only this time, more hair is in their ponytail and their tank top is a crisp white.

The two of you get back to the shop in just a few minutes, and they stretch slightly before stepping out. You follow them out of their truck and back into the garage. Two people you hadn’t seen the day before are walking around, an older, short man, and a younger woman, presumably the person you’d heard on the phone a few minutes prior. Rock music is playing softly as everyone works.

“If you wanna take a seat again, it shouldn’t be very long. I just need to check that everything is working,” Sloan tells you. They untie their hair and tie it back up, collecting a few loose strands in the process. You do as they say, taking a seat and watching them as they work. You quickly find yourself distracted by the way their arm muscles tense as they do, sweat beginning to form on their forehead and collarbones. You can hear them singing along to the music, although it’s barely audible. You’re focusing hard, starting to lean forward when they turn to you with a grin.

“I think everything’s working! Can I use your keys for a moment, just to confirm?” You blink rapidly, fixing your posture and nodding.

“Yeah, of course.” You pull your keys from your pocket and hand them to Sloan. Your mouth feels dry. Sloan starts the car up, staying inside for a few minutes while they check that everything is functioning as it should be. When they’re done, they shut off the engine, closing your car door gently as they exit.

“Everything should be perfect now,” they tell you as they hand the keys back. They stuff their hands in their pockets. “If you want to make absolutely sure, though, we should take it out on a short drive. Maybe we could grab some lunch? My treat.” A soft pink blush is spreading across their cheeks, but it’s easy to attribute it to the heat or the work they just finished.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food. “Sounds good to me, do you want to drive?” You hold the keys out to them and they beam at you.

“Absolutely!” They take the keys back from you, walking to the passenger side door and opening it for you. You enter the vehicle, buckling your seatbelt as they close the door for you and enter on the other side.

“I’m taking my lunch!” they call out to the older man you’d seen before. He waves them off. They start the engine and take off, driving you to a local diner you’d visited a few times before.

The two of you order sandwiches, and they insist you get the chips. “I love fries, don’t get me wrong, but their chips are house-made and they’re sooo good.”

You devour your food as soon as it comes out, and you’re glad you listened to them. You’d had the fries at this particular diner before, and they weren’t bad, but the chips were perfectly balanced between crispy and soft, with just the right amount of salt. “How much do I owe you?” you ask, pulling your wallet out from your pocket.

They shake their head. “No, no, this is part of the repair. Mr. Lindholm pays for business expenses like these.”

The two of you head back to the repair shop. You get out of the car, and Sloan hands you back your keys. “Oh, I almost forgot.” They fish around in one of their pockets and then the other one before handing you a scrap of paper with a string of numbers on it. You’re confused for a second, concerned that it’s how much you owe, before they continue. “It’s my number. In case you have any more car troubles, I mean. Uh, th-you don’t have to call me or anything. You can just call the garage if you want but I might be able to help you on the side, you know?” They stuff their pockets.

You smile at them. “Thank you, I appreciate all your help.” A blush spreads once again on their cheeks.

“Any time.”

You add their number to your phone before you leave, sending them a text so they have yours as well. A few minutes after you get home, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. “I’m also free if you ever want to grab food again,” it reads. “I know the best ice cream spots in town.”

[embrosegraves]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘

Just a lil something I thought of and couldn't get out of my head :P I hope you enjoy <3

Max Verstappen x Reader  “If you can justify the purchase, then you can buy it for me.” Sugar Daddy x Slightly Reluctant! Sugar Baby

very brief google translated dutch (it's like 2 thing near the end)

You weren’t sure how you managed to get to this point in your life. One night you were working at your local club, trying to make ends meet with three jobs. You needed to pay for rent and utilities and food and the ever looming University degree you had begun studying for. You never thought you’d ever get to a point of financial comfortability, because the situation definitely wasn’t the most stable but it was comfortable. 

At first you thought he was just another rich snob who wanted to impress his mates with the amount of money he could spend on a single night. And to be fair he kinda was. He just also happened to be the one that sat with you while you worked the bar, listening to your woes of being a uni student who needed to work more than one job throughout the day on top of going to class.  

Now though, almost exactly 3 years after first meeting him, you couldn’t believe what you were looking at. 

“I’m not letting you buy that for me, Max.”

“Why not?” He was almost (definitely) pouting. 

“Because I can buy my own laptop? And besides, my final year is almost over, I can get it after.” 

Max looked at you unimpressed. “The one you have now is falling apart. You need a new one.”

You grabbed his hand and slowly led him to a bench that was outside the store you were just standing in. “My love, I adore that you want to get me a new laptop for school, but you cannot justify spending three and a half million dollars on a laptop for me. I don’t care if it’s Swarovski, I don’t care if it’s the best laptop in the world. I don’t need it.”

It was always like this between you and Max. He wanted to buy you the most insanely expensive things just because he could, but you always told him not to. Looking at him in front of you, his face sporting an almost unnoticeable frown, you sighed. Keeping hold of his hand in yours, you moved your free hand to cradle his face. 

“I will let you buy me a laptop-” His face lit up, “on the condition that it cost no more than eight thousand. I know I cannot get you to spend like a regular person, so that will be the cap on how much you spend on my laptop.”

“You never let me do anything fun.” Max was pouting again, but you could see his eyes were happy. 

“Well, that’s tough Schat. If it makes you feel better, after you get the laptop because I’m not budging on that, you can buy me whatever you want-” You held your hand in front of him before Max could interrupt and start celebrating, “but you have to be able to properly justify the purchase. Which means no more mindless spending on things, okay?” 

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “As long as I still get to spoil you, like you deserve, then I will agree to your conditions.” 

You felt as he placed a kiss on your head before you moved back. You gave him a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. 

“Go. I can tell you’re just wanting to find a laptop to get me.”

He laughed and kissed you again before grabbing your hands and leading to a different tech store for your new laptop. “Let’s go then, Mijn Liefje!”

Translations (Provided by Google Translate) Schat = Darling Mijn Liefje = My Love

[it-happened-one-fic]

It's Nice - Floyd

Author Notes: So. Just like with all Floyd fics this one has featured copious editing and has been trapped within my Google docs for quite some time as it underwent that lengthy process. But here it is. A premarital hand holding fic for Floyd. This fic was edited while I was listening to "They Don't Know" by Tracey Ullman which I can almost promise you influenced how this fic turned out. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ pre-marital hand holding/ romance implied/ sfw

Word count: 1365

I sat silently next to Floyd, watching as the unpredictable young man toyed with my hand and fingers. 

Simply put, it was an odd way to pass time, but, according to Floyd, my hands were interesting.

And evidently enough, he did find them interesting. After all, the infamously mercurial merman was just sitting next to me, leaned over so that he was largely lying on the table in front of us as he reached over and toyed with my fingers. Apparently perfectly satisfied as he fiddled with them while simultaneously being beyond careful with them. Almost like he thought they were fragile or something.

It was almost enough to make me forget exactly why all of my classmates found Floyd to be a fearful entity.

My gaze slowly shifted to our hands as I pondered what exactly made my hands so uniquely interesting to him, and then the young man in question let out a giggle. 

I frowned slightly, glancing his way questioningly as he sat up with a smile on his face as his eyes stayed on our hands.

 I didn’t get to actually ask him anything though, since he opted to explain without any prompting, “Your hands are so teeny~ How do you get anything done?”

His two-toned gaze found mine as he teasingly questioned me, and I frowned at his words. Slipping one hand out of his grasp, I held it up to better inspect it for myself.

Sunlight streamed through my spread fingers, but, for all my careful looking, I could not find anything unique, interesting, or particularly small about my hands.

In fact, it just looked like a hand. Plain and simple. Nothing special or unique about it at all.

“Are they really that small?” My response came out as more of a murmur than anything, but Floyd still managed to hear it.

“Sure they are! Look,” As he spoke, one of his own hands wrapped around my wrist as he pulled my arm, and me with it, over so that he could flatten his left hand against my right one.

He leaned around our hands, which were now pressed palm-to palm, to look at me with a wide grin, “See?”

His eyes were glimmering at me as I focused on our hands and found that, sure enough, his hand was far larger than mine, with the tips of his long fingers clearly visible over the top of mine.

“Well, I guess in comparison…” I trailed off as I noticed Floyd’s expression shifting from playful to curious as he looked down at our hands and sat back so that he was now sitting directly in front of me.

Slowly, and almost carefully, his hand shifted until his fingers slipped in between mine and folded down over my hand.

He looked utterly fascinated as he carefully held my hand in his with his fingers slipped through the gaps between mine.

And, largely by instinct, I mirrored his motions. But instead of staring out our mismatched hands, I was watching him as I interlocked our hands and caused his eyes to go wide.

It was one of those moments where Floyd looked anything but scary. In fact, he stared at our interlaced fingers with an almost childlike innocence that confused me.

What was so special about holding hands?

He’d tugged me along after him, all but squeezing the life out of my hand along the way, so why…?

I stilled, with my questioning thoughts grinding to a halt, as I realized, with no small amount of surprise, that Floyd had never held my hand like this. 

Instead of lacing our fingers together as they were now, he’d always simply wrapped his hand around mine. Enveloping it in his larger hand as if he were trying to completely hide it from view. 

Perhaps it was to ensure he had a better hold on me, but then I’d always found that I had a better grip if I had laced my fingers through another person’s and locked our hands together in that fashion.

It was a wild shot in the dark, but I found myself eyeing the young man closely as I slowly began to question him, “Floyd, have you never….?”

I trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish my question. But Floyd evidently understood what I was asking since he nodded and responded fairly easily.

“In my mer-form, I’ve got finger webbing, so…” He trailed off, opting to continue to gaze at our hands before giving my hand a tentative little squeeze that had me wondering if this really was the same young man who usually gave out bone-crushing hugs and had what might be the most merciless grip I’d ever experienced.

Though, to be fair, whenever I received one of his squeezes, it was what he referred to as a ‘tiny squeeze’ and was more of a hug than the vice-like hold that he usually dubbed squeezes.

But instead of commenting on his typically crushing grip, I tentatively finished his sentence for him, “So you’ve never held hands like this?”

He nodded, his eyes still on our interlocked hands, with his dwarfing mine as he continued to hold my hand with a surprising amount of gentleness. Almost like he was afraid I would break or slip right from his grasp if he did anything else.

I frowned slightly as I watched him in silence, but it was a strange thought, because I didn’t think I’d ever outright run from him since our early meetings, when he’d been chasing me and making life generally difficult on Azul’s orders.

Since then, I’d gotten so that I was much closer to him and the other two young men of the Octavinelle dorm that had been involved at that time. Now I only ran from him in a more playful manner, though sometimes I was genuinely trying to get away from him; it was never out of fear.

But perhaps a stranger thought was the one of how he’d never held hands like this. Though it made sense in regards to the webbing he had in his merform, it was still strange to think that he’d never done so while on land.

He’d been here for a fair bit of time, after all. He was a second year here at Night Raven College already, and Azul had said they’d gone to some sort of boot camp when they’d come on land, so he’d had plenty of time to hold hands.

But perhaps the opportunity had never arisen. Either way, the novelty of holding hands like this did explain his quietness.

After just a few more moments of silence, his gaze lifted so that he was looking at me once more. An almost embarrassed smile crossed his face as he spoke once more, “It’s nice. Holding hands.”

He held up our interlocked hands as if to show me how nice it was, and I smiled at how our palms seemed to fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

His hand was larger, but mine still fit perfectly in his palm, and our fingers interlaced like they’d found the perfect place to rest. Almost like it was meant to be.

It was almost laughable, in moments like this, to think that so many of the other students here at NRC thought I was insane to spend time with Floyd. But then, I supposed most people didn’t see this side of him.

And, with an odd degree of surprise, I realized that he was right. This was nice, holding his hand like this.

Floyd was always a mercurial person, and somehow that made quiet moments like this all the more special.

By no means did I have a problem with his playful nature, and I could understand his mood swings. I had bad days myself.

But when compared to the usually busy days of time here at school with him and all of my other friends, moments like this seemed oddly precious.

And perhaps that was why my smile spread the way it did, and I gave his palm a tiny squeeze and received a very careful one in return as soon as I softly responded, “Yeah… It is.”

[all-things-fic]

Jealous Guy / A Quarantine Harry interlude

A/N: Hey everyone…. Long time, no writing. Hope you are all okay? You’ll have seen from the odd ask that I’ve mentioned this one being in my google docs getting dusty. Genuinely I feel that it’s been giving me a mental block on writing anything else, and I think it was because I really thought there should be an element of smut. Re-reading it, that isn’t the case at all.

Happy reading! Speak soon x

He was panicked.

Trembling hands unknowing what to do.

Exhausted of any other option that he once relied upon.

Options that had previously worked. Options that were now failing him quicker than they ever had. 

This time his eight-month baby girl was having none of it. Changing a nappy and gently rocking, no longer seemed to work. She was upset and she was letting him and the entire house know it. 

“Be good for Daddy, Edie,” he hushed, a quick whisper mumbled against her temple. “‘M trying my best.”

Harry leaned his body back slightly as he turned his attention to trying to remove the lid of the baby bottle with one hand. 

Usually she was good for him. The handful of times that he had done any sort of thing - a night feed or shift here or a nappy change there - she had nuzzled into his bare chest and drifted off once more. 

The problem was those handful of times had been when she was tiny. And things changed. He hated admitting it to himself but he felt he didn’t know his daughter. The seven month old that he held so securely to him now felt worlds away from the tiny baby whose curled up legs barely reached his belly button when she was first placed to his chest. 

He hissed a ‘yes’ as the bottle lid finally gave way, popping off from the teet and allowing him to clasp the bottle. A relief flowed through him as he found confidence to shift his daughter in his arms.

“‘S coming, baby,” he opted for a gentle tone. 

Laying on your back, you stared at the ceiling of your bedroom and slowly blinked. Cries and grizzles had been non-stop for over thirty minutes now and as much as you loved a trier - and there was no bigger one than Harry - your fingers twitched to offer some form of help no longer wanting to hear the distress. 

You knew it would be a tumultuous line to cross. One that he would either be grateful for, or one that would create the faintest amount of resentment. 

Trying not to dwell on your thoughts, you pulled back the bedsheet atop your frame and exited your bedroom. 

As you rounded the doorframe, you caught Harry with his head rolled back on his neck and face looking up towards the ceiling. It was a picture you had found yourself in many times in the early stages, a level of exasperation radiating off him that could be felt by you from over the other side of the room.

Staying silent as you rested, your eyes took in the way he presented your daughter her feed. His movements were forced, but not forceful, his hand quick to pull away the item each time her tiny hands pushed and pulled at the plastic intrusion.

“We’re not playing, Edie,” Harry said, a hefty sigh rocking through his upper body and over the words.

“She isn’t,” you replied for your daughter. 

The sound of your voice had him raising his tired eyes to look at you. While his stare lingered, you noticed it seemed void of any care, almost too lost in logical thought to slow himself down rather than quickly complete the interaction with his first born like a task (of many) on a list. 

“Here, let me show you how.” 

You slowly pulled yourself away from the doorframe, movement tentative as you approached them both. Gently, you lifted your hand and placed it to the top of your daughter's head, stroking at her hair.

Harry’s body was stockstill as you lifted her tiny body and felt the soft trembles rock through her body from her subsiding distress. If your eyes hadn’t been so taken by your baby, you would have been able to see the dejected expression that laced Harry’s features as he noticed the way she began to soften when in your hold. 

Taking on a rocking motion almost immediately, you looked on as Harry loosely held the bottle of milk towards you. You easily took the item from his faint grip, feeling zero resistance. Turning the teat to your daughter, you gently let it rest at her pouty lips. 

It didn’t matter that you were mostly fading this out now for solids, not when she needed comfort. 

“You need to let her take it when she’s ready,” you softly spoke, voice barely a whisper. “She’ll know when she wants it.” 

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry made his barrier as he set his eyes on the relaxing face of his pride and joy. He took in the motions of your hand as you gently stroked the teet at her mouth and watched it drop open slightly to suckle. 

“Sometimes if you let her know it’s there, she’ll do the rest,” you kept your eyes down as you addressed Harry, waiting for her chubby hand to join yours in holding the bottle. “She does this thing if she takes my boob where she nuzzles first and finds my nipple herself.”

Soft eyes looked up at you with a pique of enquistism. 

“Yeah, you do, don’t you?” you heard the way your voice lifted as her small hand clasped against yours as you felt a smile lift at your mouth. “And when she’s grabbing, she’s not playing,” you flicked your eyes up towards Harry who stood quietly watching your exchange. You turned your eyes to Edie once more, “She holds it herself sometimes now, cause she’s clever. Aren’t you, Edie? Are you a clever girl for Mommy?”

Breathing deeply Harry found himself unable to continue taking in the two of you. 

“Shall we show Daddy how we do it?” You whispered, glancing again towards your husband. Harry took in the eagerness in your gaze but fell short of being able to match you. 

Why was he so incompetent? 

With downturned lips, he leant in to press a kiss to your bare shoulder from where your dressing gown had slightly fallen open. 

Feeling him move around you, you lifted your face to look at him. His body now slightly behind yours. 

“Stay,” you asked. 

“You’ve got it all in hand.”

“H-“

Feeling his hand slip from your collar, you bowed your head as he walked away before raising it and looking at his retreating figure from over your shoulder. 

***

Watching her small body rise and fall with breath, you were confident enough that she was settled to slowly leave the room. Feet softly padded against the carpet, down the landing and back towards your bed.

You found yourself stilling in all movement when you saw his side of the bed still empty. With a soft frown gracing your brow, you quickly swiped up the baby monitor that sat at Harry’s bedside table and turned to walk downstairs.

You were able to make out the dull light that came from your kitchen, once you had walked through the rest of the house which was cloaked in darkness. It was there that you found your husband standing in almost pitch black, besides the light that sat in the extractor fan above your oven. 

Harry rested against the kitchen counter, presenting himself in a shape to you that had gone unnoticed due to your lack of closeness since the year prior. He would always be a kind of lanky that exuded he was partial of tripping over his own two feet, but he wore his impending Dad-bod in a way that acknowledged while he had been eating for two, he’d also been working out for two. 

You noted his nose rested against the lip of his trusty mug, most likely warm and filled with his favourite coffee. It was something he often did when in thought and you didn’t know if your presence would be welcomed once he came to.

Placing the baby monitor down to the kitchen counter caught his attention, his eyes peering at you across the barely lit room. The silence was deafening. 

“Everything okay?”

He hummed, tone flat. A short nod thrown in your direction as he took a sip of his drink and rolled his lips into his mouth to remove them of any moisture the drink had given them. 

“You should’ve gone back to bed.”

“So should you.”

You felt a wry smile lift at your lips. 

“‘M awake now. I’ll probably just go for m’run or summat,” he continued.

“It’s not even five.”

“Perfect time then, no one’ll be around to harass me.” 

He threw back the rest of his coffee, tilting his body slightly to place the mug in the empty sink behind him. 

Your eyes looked him over as he stroked at his face, heels of his palms rubbing - almost pressing - into his eyes. He was obviously frustrated.

“Like I’m doing right now, you mean.”

The sigh that left him was one filled with exasperation. “If that’s what you think,” he trailed off, right hand running over his mouth and his day or two old stubble.

You felt yourself close up at his response, the way he seemed dismissive of your comment. Your - or at least you thought - obvious concern. While you didn’t have the desire to fight, his energy was the reason you had come to the conclusion that you were nothing but an annoyance to him in the moment. 

The first you realised he had moved was when his hand rested gently at the curve of your waist. The slight pressure against your skin before he stiffly drew you to him. Lips at your hairline, his whisper of “go back to bed” seemed almost a figment of your imagination. 

Then he was gone and suddenly it felt cold.

***

His feet pounded the pavement as he reached up to fix the bud of his earphone once the voice of Aaron Bruno had started to fade.

The heave of his chest and the dryness of his throat were two of the main things that kept him going. Blood pumping and fatigue weighing down his legs, he felt his frustration heavily lace his limbs before soaring away into the dark London morning.

Street lamps were still lit, leaving him running with nothing but his shadow and mind racing with bitterness.

It sounded silly, and he was ashamed to admit it but the green-eyed monster within him had openly reared its head above the parapet and Harry felt it would take a lot to push it down once more.

A run usually cured him. Allowed him time to proceed. To realise how minute he really was in the world. 

The feeling of the damp air signalled that there would rain at some point, a feeling that would’ve once soothed his soul. Heart pumping out of his chest, reminding him of how alive he was. Not today. 

He felt bile rise up the back of his throat causing the harsh stamp of his feet to slow as he approached the wooded area of the street in which he ran. 

Body bent over, hands on his knees he threw up his morning coffee, spitting to try and remove the bitter taste from his mouth. Slowly raising to full height, hands now on his hips, Harry tried to catch his breath. 

Inhaling through his nose and out his mouth, the tremble of his lower lip threw him off guard. His throat thickened, his blinks quickened. Harsh swallow. Heels of his palm pressed against his eyes as he tried to hold it. 

Hands wiped down his face with a harsh pull, he looked up at the sky which had started to get lighter. Worry racked through him as his mind raced. Why was he crying? 

***

It was eerily quiet when he finally made it back home with a Gail’s Bakery brown paper back swinging at his side. He tried his hardest to not draw attention to his arrival, the palm of his hand encasing his keys entirely as he laid them gently on the sideboard next to the front door.

Toing his trainers off, one by one, his Nike socks padded against the wooden floors with a stealth that he welcomed. As he walked, he slowly paused in the doorway to the lounge. His eyes found you curled up on the sofa, your favourite throw cushion nestled in the space between your neck and shoulder.

In his silent watchfulness, he thought that there was no way you were comfortable. Surely not. Then he supposed your exhaustion may have gotten the better of you. 

With the bag still in hand, Harry approached you and gently placed it onto the coffee table. His hands reached behind you for the throw that had recently become an addition to the back of he sofa, there if ever the need for a quick baby cuddle struck. 

As the blanket hit your body, he noticed you move with such a sudden jolt it caused his neck to dart to the right to look at you. Owlish eyes, round and startled, looked back at him. Your right arm had moved upwards, almost to stop his gesture of covering you. His touch somewhat foreign to your recent memory. 

“Shit,” he abruptly whispered, more so to himself. “‘M sorry, I didn’t-“

His voice trailed off. Didn’t what? He didn’t mean to wake you? Didn’t mean to be a prick? 

Two sets of eyes stared at each other in silence. 

The tautness of your body slowly seemed to fade as you came to, Harry steadily lowering himself down to sit on the edge of the coffee table opposite, abandoning trying to cover you.

“What time is it?” 

The sound of your tired rasp made his shoulders sag. You really needed the rest, and he’d broken your slumber.

“Just after seven.”

“Must’ve really needed that run.”

Your comment was innocent, though it could’ve been taken snidely. He had been gone longer than he should’ve been.

“I got us breakfast.”

His words were woven with an unspoken peace offering. He felt guilt crawl inside him, slowly starting to eat away at the jealousy within. Selfish, selfish man. 

He couldn’t look you in the eye. The ticking of his jaw as he clenched it to fight the burn of his throat once more, at his silent deprecation, which would surely be seen as unjustified. 

“Bet you could use a shower first?”

He scoffed a laugh at your suggestion, a faint smile lifting at his lips. “Smell me all the way from over there, eh darlin’?”

The term of endearment warmed you. You felt yourself sink into the cushions beneath you. He was within reaching distance, nowhere near as far as the question would lead to believe. The literal meaning was nonsense, figuratively he had hit the nail on the head.

He chanced a glance at you. “Fancy comin’ wi’me?”

You strangely blushed at his offer, but faintly nodded your head. It felt odd to blush over such a simple request. You supposed part of you felt tension between you both and you appreciated his apparent desire to try and smooth things over. 

He stayed seated as you swung your legs out from underneath you and sat so that your right knee brushed against his. Standing, you felt the terracotta silk of your pyjamas brush your skin as you reached to sweep at his hair that was damp from a mixture of morning dew and perspiration. 

“Come on then,” you smoothly whispered, hand squeezing lightly at the curve of his shoulder. 

Slowly standing, Harry’s front awkwardly bumped into your back, his hand reaching for yours as a way to steady you both. 

His touch was clammy when your fingers slotted against his. The knowledge of such a thing calming any nervous edge that fizzled within your being as you led the two of you upstairs. 

Harry lingered on the landing as you walked into the bathroom, reaching into the shower to turn it on and let it warm. His feet tread lightly, trying to avoid the lone squeaky floorboard that haunted you both on night feeds. 

When he stepped inside he caught you leant over the bath, rearranging the bath toys and trinkets that were placed in a basket to the one corner.

As his eyes dropped to take you in, they noticed the one lone rubber duck that was sitting at your feet. Silently bending, Harry retrieved it before declaring himself in the room with a, “don’t forget ducky.”

You pressed your hand to your chest, taken aback by him being so close. It amused him, his expression alight for the first time over the last few hours. 

He watched as your eyes fell to the plastic duck, hand reaching out to take it from his grip. “This thing is the bane of my existence,” you admitted.

“You love it,” his voice was as hushed as yours. “Gets her to laugh every single time, without fail.”

That was one thing he could rely on that hadn’t changed during his time away. 

You noticed the slight downturn to his lips as he spoke, before turning to place the duck on the side. “You get in first,” you nudged him. “Let me go undress-“

“Do it here,” he paused, before softly asking “please?” when his hand reached up to brush your hair behind your shoulders. The back of his hand turned to smooth down the silky fabric before dexterous fingers slowly rolled at the buttons of your pyjama top, the two sides giving way. 

He bit away his smile as he felt you press his hand to your breast bone, spoiling the fun before the fabric gave way and revealed the swell of your breasts. You saw the way his bottom lip bounced ever-so-slightly when he let it go from the bite of his teeth to say, “Gonna need my hand back to get involved.”

You let it fall.

Harry quickly made use of it and pulled at the collar of his shirt to lift it up and over his head. His socks, shorts and underpants quickly followed only for him to cup his manhood to cover himself as he turned to walk under the warm spray of water.

Next, the silk of your garments satisfying slid down your skin, trousers easy to step out of and top aimlessly forgotten too.

From behind the glass shower door, you watched Harry close his eyes and willed the subconscious frown to relax from his brow. 

You stayed silent and looked on. He needed this moment. For the water to fall onto his taut muscles, to loosen and wash away whatever concerns that were weighing him down. 

There was something lingering under his skin and while part of you was determined to get it out of him, you knew for the benefit of you both it had to be on his terms. 

Opening the shower door, you stepped inside with Harry keeping himself turned away from you, the expanse of his back was impressive as he held his hands flat to the bathroom tiles and let his head hang forward. 

You lifted yourself onto your tip toes, arm wrapping around his front to steady yourself as you pressed your lips to the skin on his back.

In reply, he squeezed your hand. 

***

As expected the shower had been filled with awkward silences, lingering stares and fumbling feet as you moved around each other to bathe. Harry haa gotten out before you, roughly drying his body and hair before tip-toeing out to peep into Edie’s room. You only knew the last part cause you caught him slowly shutting the door when you left the bathroom underneath your own fluffy towel. 

“Fast as a rock,” his voice rumbled, confirming she was indeed still asleep. “I reckon we’ve got another two hours for us before she makes herself known.” 

You had softly smiled at his words at the time, not really knowing what to say. He gave you a small smile of his own, as he walked past you and mentioned something about flicking the kettle on as he made his way downstairs. 

The two of you were now laid out on the sofa, Harry on his back, legs accommodating you as you lay atop him. Crumbs from the pastries that you’d shared mingled with your skin and sprinkled the plates that sat on your coffee table. 

His hands were gently massaging at your shoulder blades as he sang under his breath to John Lennon’s ‘Jealous Guy’. The rumble of his chest was soothing, as you pressed your face further into his pec and inhaled the smell of his freshly washed skin.

The sound of a drowsy sigh caught your attention, your head turning on Harry’s chest to look at the baby monitor that was now directly in your eye line. 

A video of a sleeping Edie met your eyes, all content with one arm resting above her head as she remained on her back. You kept silent as you tried to zone in on the coos she was making to see if anything was out ordinary, but she continued to seem satisfied. 

“She’s happy dreaming,” you spoke more so to yourself. 

“How do you know tha’?”

“Listen to the noises she’s making,” you pointed out, well aware of how you sounded.

A silence fell over both you and Harry, but rather than one of contentment, an awkwardness lingered.

“I’m useless.”

Those two words he spoke were heavy as they broke through. “I’m so- so fuckin’ useless babe.”

You lay still, atop him, a frown forming at your brow as you listened. He wasn’t useless but it wasn’t your time to intervene while he was on his self-loathing train. Not yet.

He quite clearly had a lot to mull over, to speak out loud. 

“I have not got a fuckin’ clue what I’m doin’ wi’her. Not one single fuckin’ clue and-“ he sucked in a deep breath that racked through his chest when released. “I’m standing about like a spare part, in the way of you and the incredible job that you're doing for the both of us because-“

“Because what?”

Your voice sounded so unusual to you. So small. 

“We all have to start somewhere, sometime-“ you continue.

“No, it’s not that, I know that. It’s because- I feel like I have to when- I guess, I’m making it worse.” He paused. “Every time I come home I’m reminded of my inadequacies and earlier on during my run I actually thought about not coming back because I can’t stand it.” 

You felt yourself hold your breath as his confession, body wriggling to try and get out of his hold. His voice was getting breathier and breathier as he spoke and you knew if you pulled yourself up to get a proper look at him, you’d at least find his lips downturned. 

The heavy swallow he did next only confirmed that for you.

“I’m so fuckin’ jealous of you,” he croaked. “Of the bond you share. Of,” his voice faded. “Everything, pretty much.”

As he spoke, you lay in silence unsure of how to broach the subject. Did he need you to be supportive, or did he need some tough love? 

Before you could stop yourself you felt the bubble of laughter start, the shake of your shoulders underneath his touch.

“Okay,” he started, clearly offended, “alright, I get it. I’m being ridiculous. You can stop laughing at me.”

“Babe,” you started, lifting yourself slightly. As you did so you saw the way his vacant stare lingered on the ceiling, his stubble unnecessarily inviting to you as it peppered his cheeks, chin and underneath. “Harry,” you tried again to get his attention, “I’m not laughing at you. Am I laughing at you telling me this while Jealous Guy is playing in the background? Yes but not at you.”

Listening to your words, Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds he’d turned his head slightly and from this position dropped his eyes to look down the bridge of his nose at you. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “At least not the new things. I am impressed that I’ve made it look like I do.” 

From your words, you watched his features soften. “And don’t,” you reached up to hold his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Don’t think I don’t ever need you, that we don’t need you-“

“Cause we do,” you paused. “But if I’m honest, I’m going to need you to just do it. To just get involved, to make the mistakes and to learn from them because I can’t do it all on my own.” 

“I don’t need you dwelling on the fact that she didn’t take a feed from you one time. I need you to suck it up and try again in two hours time when we- you, try her with baby porridge because quite frankly I’m sick of finding it in my hair and I think you should get the enjoyment of experiencing that at least once.”

Seeing the flicker of his lips gave you hope.

“Really nice of you tha’ is,” he started. “To give me tha’ experience.” 

“I know. I’m really a giving person in that way.”

A small silence filled your space again. It was a little light this time. Progress. 

You let your eyes run over his features once more, hands getting the better of you when the thumb on your right hand tried to work away the lines of worry etched into his forehead. 

“We need to learn together, grow together. Help each other,” you hummed, unable to look him in the eye, your own concern of how he’d admitted how he was thinking of leaving ringing far too loudly for you. “We’re stronger together.”

“Look at me,” he requested. You fought against his ask, feeling the burning of your throat appear. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

You swallowed heavily, nodding your head. “So, can you please look at me?”

Two pairs of sad eyes met. 

Envy had no rest, and the trouble was you were both already so tired.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Valentine's Series #3: Matching | yunho x reader

Pairing: jeong yunho x reader

Genre: fluff, romance

Summary: Yunho loves to be your personal stylist of sorts.

Word count: 659 words

Yunho loves to watch you style different outfits and piece them together into a look that uniquely suits you.

Especially when the two of you would go out together, he enjoys being your personal stylist of sorts and helping you put together the outfit of the day or night. Because he knew how much you loved tailoring your attire to match the events of the day.

Whether it was business casual, girly or simply laidback, he would find the time to join you on the couch and watch and advise on the pieces you chose. If he wasn’t able to, he’d either video call you or have you send pictures to him.

No doubt, Yunho was always very helpful and good at what he did.

Because for Yunho, he loved to admire you when you were in your element. From your pretty little short skirt that graced your silhouette, to either your flowy and luxurious silk dress that flattered your figure or the little hot off-the-shoulder number that you would pair sometimes with edgy ripped jeans or leggings or joggers - he adored you in all of them.

He delighted in your flair for the spectacular because no matter what you wore, you would always make a statement, and he relished and savoured being the one who got to be a part of it, and walk beside you either hand-in-hand or with his arm thrown over your shoulder on the street.

The way you would either let your hair down or tie it up in a high ponytail and let some strands fall in your face, he felt his heart beginning to do somersaults and his ears and face would turn slightly red from blushing so hard.

It was these moments that made Yunho realise he's in love with you. He hadn't told you that yet but knew that he had to soon and was hoping to on Valentine's Day. 

You both settled for a night out in the street market to celebrate because there was this one shop that served the most mouth-watering and savoury dumplings and noodle bowls you ever had.

So the look for tonight was laidback, warm (because of the chilliness) and a little fashionable. 

But Yunho had a little something up his sleeve. When he arrived, he was ready to help but first, he had to give you his gift.

"Try it." He suggested.

Walking into your room and opening the present revealed a stylish little light-brown number of corduroy cargo pants that accentuated your waist, paired with a charming white semi-crop top with a lettuce hem and an oversize coat.

It was the most stylish and expensive ensemble you ever wore! However, the look felt familiar. Running on a hunch, you took to google. And your hunch was right, you realised Yunho had dressed like this similarly a while before.

He found an outfit for you that matched one of his.

On the drive to the other side of town, you contemplated how to bring it up to him. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, it was far from that. You were just pleasantly surprised by such a gesture. It made you feel a little woozy and giddy, at the way Yunho cared about you and the amount of thought he had put into his gift.

Finally, at the entrance to the market, you brought it up to him as you both were about to enter. He giggled and blushed, and played with your fingers in his hand before admitting.

"I did it,” he began, “Because I love you."

Registering what he just said, you looked at him dumbfounded and speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence which he mused about and found adorable. He patted your head as a gesture of comfort on his part, before pressing a sweet and meaningful kiss to your cheek.

"You heard me." He giggled again before dragging your still astounded figure along with him towards the market.

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 13 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Donna arrives at the castle to help tend to your wounds.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Pain, some blood, broken bones, angstttt

Notes: Part 13! I use Google Translate for all Romanian so I'm sorry if it's not accurate! If anyone speaks Romanian and notices anything that is inaccurate please let me know and I will fix it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Alcina cradled you in her arms for a few more minutes in an attempt to calm the both of you down. She was able to collect herself but you just laid there with tears streaming down your face, trembling in her arms. Never in your life have you been in this much pain, everything hurt, every inch of your body was in pain. Memories of tumbling down the stairs, the look in Stefana's eyes before and after she pushed you, watching Alcina's claws pierce through her all replayed in your head on an endless loop. You were so out of it, so engrossed in the memories that were haunting you you were barely able to register the fact that Alcina had been wiping away your tears or that she was placing small, soft kisses across your cheeks and forehead. When she spoke, her voice sounded so far away, like she was on the other end of a long hallway even though you were tucked tightly into her chest.

Looking down at you, Alcina saw the far away look in your eyes, she knew that you weren't okay and it killed her that there was nothing she could do to help ease your thoughts at the moment. There were more important things that had to be done right now, taking care of your wounds was the top priority. As she adjusted you in her arms she realized the fabric in the crook of her elbow where you head was resting was damp and clinging to her skin. Gently pulling her arm back, she saw blood staining her silk sleeve.

"Shit." She muttered under her breath.

The thought of chastising herself for cursing crossed her mind for a moment and she rolled her eyes in response. How can she possibly be concerned about swearing right now when you're broken and bleeding in her arms?

Realizing you must have split your head open when you fell down the stairs, she cursed herself for not realizing it sooner. She saw the puddle of blood under you but you had so many cuts and injuries, everything reeked of blood and she was in such a panic she didn't realize you had a head wound.

Alcina knew she had to take care of it right now. Even though it's been less than ten minutes since she found you at the bottom of the stairs, she didn't want you to lose too much blood. Her original plan was to wait for Donna but this needed immediate attention.

"Draga," she softly says. "Draga mea, I have to sit you up."

Alcina's warm voice washes over you, the sound bringing you the smallest amount of comfort as your thoughts tortured you.

"Draga, you have a head wound, I have to look at it." Looking down at you, the far away look in your eyes hasn't faltered. She doesn't even know if you can hear her. "I'm going to sit you up now, okay?"

She takes a deep breath and exhales, knowing no matter what she does, you're going to be in pain. As carefully as slowly as she can, she starts to sit you up.

You're violently ripped away from the endless loop of traumatic memories when you feel a sharp pain radiate through your body as she moves you. Crying out, you grasp onto her dress tighter with your good hand and lean into her.

The moment she hears you cry out in pain, Alcina stops moving. Tears fill her eyes once more as she watches you tremble.

"I know, I know it hurts, I'm sorry." She says as she tries to soothe you.

She notices the far away look in your eyes start to return and she knows she needs to get you back before you go there again. Even if it's just so she can sit you up.

"Y/n," she says, cupping your face. "Y/n, look at me." As you begin to dissociate once more you hear Alcina's voice, it's muffled, but she sounds closer than she was before. "Y/n, I need you to look at me." She starts gently caressing your face, trying to bring you back.

Her voice begins to sound more and more clear and you feel the sensation of her fingers gently gliding across your skin. You blink a few times and her face begins to come into focus.

"That's it, good job my love, keep looking at me."

As your senses are starting to come back, so does the pain. Alcina's face comes into focus to only be blurred again by tears.

"I know it hurts, I know." She coos. "Y/n, I have to sit you up, okay? Can I do that? I have to look at your head."

You nod and immediately wince at the shooting pain you feel in the back of your head. Alcina slowly and carefully begins to sit you up again. The pain is almost unbearable but after a few seconds you're sitting up in her lap, resting against her chest.

"Good job." She whispers as she kisses your head.

Gently leaning your chest against her arm, she pulls you away from her just enough for her to see the gash on the back of your head. She carefully examines it, moving away the pieces of hair matted with blood to get a good look at it. It's not that big, but it's big and deep enough to certainly need stitches. As she's examining you the door opens, looking up, she see's Bela and Daniela standing in the doorway.

Alcina's heart breaks again when she sees the looks and dried tears on her daughters faces. Daniela quickly wipes away fresh tears as she looks at you in her mothers arms and Bela does her best to hold back hers.

"Can one of you please grab the first aid kit?"

Bela immediately dissolves into flies and disappears into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later next to her mother with the first aid kit.

"Gauze?" Bela asks. Alcina nods her head. "Should we put a salve on it?" She asks.

"Not yet, I want to wait for Donna before administering anything. We just need to apply light pressure to the wound so it doesn't keep bleeding." Alcina says as she lays you against her chest once more.

Bela hands her the gauze and Alcina places it against the wound and lightly applies pressure. You wince for a second but the pain from the pressure subsides quickly. Alcina holds the back of your head, both to comfort you and to keep the gauze in place, and gently rubs small circles across your back. The faraway look in your eyes returns and she places a soft kiss to your forehead. Looking over to the doorway, Alcina sees Daniela still standing there, her tears now rapidly falling down her face once more.

"Come here, darling." Alcina says.

Daniela slowly walks over to the three of you, her eyes wide as she scans every cut, scrape and bruise starting to form on your skin. The hand Alcina had resting against your back reaches up and cups Daniela's face as she wipes away her tears with her thumb.

"E în regulă iubirea mea, nu-ți fie frică." Alcina says softly. (It's okay my love, don't be afraid.)

"O să fie bine? Nu arată bine mami." Daniela says as she starts to cry more. (Is she going to be okay? She doesn't look okay mommy.)

"Gândăcelul meu totul va fi bine." Alcina says before pulling Daniela closer and placing a long, soft kiss on her forehead. (Calm down my bug, everything will be fine.)

A light knock on the door pulls Alcina, Daniela and Bela's attention away. Looking up, Alcina sees a maid standing at the door. She looks terrified, her free hand has the fabric of her dress balled up in it as the other one lightly trembles.

"Pardon the interruption my Lady." She says with a shaking voice. "Lady Beneviento is here."

"HEY! What about me?!" You hear Angie yell from the hallway.

Alcina rolls her eyes at the doll.

"Please send them in."

The maid walks away and Donna enters the room with a large bag in her hand. Angie walks in after her, immediately sensing the somber mood.

"You all look like someone died! She just took a nosedive down the stairs, didn't she?!" She says. Every muscle in Alcina's body tenses and her eyes narrow at the doll. "Who would have thought that big 'ol scary claws here would fall for a human!" Angie says, walking around you and observing you. "And a tiny one for that matter! It's a miracle we're not here because you accidentally crushed her!"

"One more word out of you and I will pop your little head clean off of that stick you call a neck I swear to Mother Miranda I am not in the mood for your antics right now." Alcina snaps.

"Please don't, Alcina." Donna calmly says. Alcina's eyes shift from Angie, to Donna and back to Angie.

"Then I suggest you handle your doll before she makes me do something the both of you will regret." She growls, shooting daggers at Angie.

"Angie, why don't you and the girls run along and do something, it's been a while since you've all been together, yes?" Donna says and Alcina nods her head in agreement.

"But-" Daniela says.

"It's okay bug." Alcina says to Daniela. "Go with Angie and Bela and I'll come find you when we're finished."

Bela stands next to Daniela and they look at you for a moment. Bela sees the faraway look in your eyes and furrows her brows.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Besides the fact that she rolled down the stairs like a bowling ball?!" Angie screeches.

Alcina closes her eyes and tries to ground herself while her body tenses up again.

"I believe she's in shock." Donna says. "She's experienced a lot of trauma in a short period of time, it's going to take some time for her to mentally recover."

"Girls, go on, Donna and I have to take care of y/n." Alcina says.

Bela takes Daniela by the hand and the three of them walk out.

"Where the hell is Cass?!" They hear Angie say as the door closes.

Alcina releases a breath and relaxes a bit, placing a kiss on the top of your head. Donna removes her veil and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ears.

"Shall we begin?" Donna asks. Alcina nods her head. "Do you know what injuries she sustained?"

"She split the back of her head open," Alcina says, removing the gauze to see if the bleeding has stopped. When she see's that it didn't she puts the gauze back and continues to apply pressure. "I believe she broke or fractured her wrist, or her arm, or both. I'm not sure, I haven't had the chance to examine it yet. Various scrapes, cuts, bruising. The maid kicked her in the stomach after she went down the stairs so she may have broken or bruised ribs, possibly internal damage, I-I'm not really sure." Alcina's voice cracks and tears roll down her cheeks once more.

Donna places her hand on Alcina's shoulder and she looks at her sister with comforting eyes.

"She'll be okay." Donna says.

Alcina nods her head and wipes away her tears.

"Where should we start?"

"I would like to try and get her out of her dissociative state first if possible. I feel it would be cruel to begin taking care of her wounds and she comes out of it from the pain. Has she been like this since you brought her up here?"

"Yes, she came out of it for a moment, but only when I tried to move her after I realized she was bleeding from her head. I tried talking to her before I sat her up but she wouldn't come out of it. I was able to get through only after the pain brought her back. She was only out of this state long enough for me to adjust her and examine her head, she went back into it quickly."

Donna nods her head and rummages through her bag and pulls out a small jar. She walks over to you and Alcina and stands in front of your face.

"This should help get her out of it, when she comes back, I need you to grab her hand and gently squeeze it, every time you squeeze her hand, have her squeeze yours back."

Alcina nods and gently pries your good hand from the neckline of her dress. Once she's holding it, she nods to Donna who unscrews the cap and holds the jar a few inches away from your nose, slowly waving it back and fourth. Alcina gets a whiff of it and scrunches her nose and turns her head away.

As the memories replay over and over again in your head you feel trapped. You were aware that two more people entered the room at some point and then others left, but you have no idea who it was and truthfully, you didn't really care. Your body doesn't feel like its yours, it's like you're so deep in your mind the rest of your body doesn't exist. Just as you were finding comfort in this state, something floods your senses, a scent, a rather unpleasant one at that. It gets stronger and stronger and doesn't go away. Suddenly you feel like you're being pulled back into your body, into your consciousness, out of that space where you felt nothing. The scent is powerful, but you also pick up on a lighter, familiar scent, you recognize it as Alcina's perfume.

As more of your senses wake up you start to feel pain. At first it's only in a few places but the pain quickly spreads everywhere and you start to cry. Everything hurts, bad. The next thing you feel is a hand gently squeezing yours, muffled sounds come from above but you can't discern what they are. The strong, unpleasant scent persists as your senses awaken more.

Feeling something against your cheek, you start to realize that you're laying against Alcina. What you feel underneath you is her lap. Alcina has you sitting in her lap, resting against her chest. The thing wrapped around you, resting at the back of your head was her arm and her hand. A pain underneath her hand becomes more prevalent and more tears fall down your cheeks. You can still feel Alcina squeezing your hand as the voices become less muffled.

"That's it draga, it's okay, you're okay." The soft voice coos. That velvety voice can only come from one person. "Good job, I need you to squeeze my hand okay, can you do that?"

It takes a few moments for your brain to process what she's saying. She repeats herself a few times and you slowly start tightening your grip around her hand. She squeezes your hand back and you respond with another.

With each squeeze you receive and return you feel yourself coming back into reality more and more. Your vision clears up and you see a woman standing in front of you. The first thing you notice is how beautiful she is. As your eyes scan her face more, the second thing you notice is a large scar, or maybe a mass, over her eye. Her arm waves underneath you and you look down and see a small jar in her hand. Immediately you realize that the awful scent is coming from the jar and you close your eyes and scrunch your nose, pulling your face away from it.

Donna takes the jar away and screws the lid back on as Alcina continues to squeeze your hand.

"You're doing such a wonderful job my love." Alcina says softly and you look up at her. Her golden irises stare into yours for a moment as a beautiful smile graces her tear stained face. "Hello draga." She says and places a soft kiss on your forehead. She squeezes your hand once more and you don't return it. "No, no, keep squeezing my hand." She says and you continue to return each squeeze she gives you.

Each time you feel yourself slip back into the state you were in before you're brought back by a small squeeze from Alcina's hand. You feel yourself becoming more and more grounded with each passing moment.

"How are you feeling?" Alcina asks.

"Everything hurts." You say as more tears roll down your cheeks.

"I know love, I know." She says, kissing your head.

"Shall we begin?" Donna asks.

"Yes, we mustn't put it off any longer." Alcina says and looks back down at you. "We're going to start taking care of your wounds, okay draga? I know you're in a lot of pain, but we have to bandage you up, alright?"

"Okay."

"What hurts the most?"

"My wrist and my head, my stomach hurts pretty bad too. Honestly, everything hurts so bad." You say as more tears fall.

"I think she'll need stitches for her head wound and probably a cast for her arm." Alcina says.

"I don't have materials for a cast, but I can make a splint for her in the meantime." Donna replies.

As you look down at your arm you see how swollen it is, you can't move your wrist at all. There's no way you're going to be writing anything soon since you broke your dominant wrist.

"Oh shit." You say quietly. Alcina looks down at you with her brows furrowed. "I can't write." A panic starts to take over and you look up at Alcina. "Alcina, I- I can't write. The meeting next week, what am I going to do? What is she going to do to me if I-"

Alcina cuts you off wish a hush and holds you closely to her.

"It's okay, we'll figure something out, let me worry about that." She says, trying to calm you down.

Donna looks at Alcina with a confused look on her face and Alcina takes a deep breath and exhales.

"Mother Miranda requested she be at the meeting next week to 'take notes,' although I am inclined to believe she has other motives."

Donna's eyes go wide. "Oh."

"I completely forgot about- it all just happened and then this happened and-" Alcina shakes her head and looks down into your tear-filled eyes. "We will figure something out draga mea, I promise."

"She needs to be fully healed before the meeting." Donna says to herself as she rummages through her bag.

"The only way that would be possible if-"

"If we use this." Donna says, pulling out a green glass bottle.

"Donna, I- she's never been exposed to it, I don't know how she's going to react, I-"

"Will all due respect Alcina, if we don't try this, worse things will happen at the meeting next week. If Mother finds any reason-"

"I know." Alcina says.

"What is that?" You ask, looking between Donna and Alcina.

"It's a healing salve." Donna says.

"What's so special about it?"

"It contains the Mold." Donna says.

"It has mold in it?" You ask, confused.

"No, Mold, from the Megamycete?"

"The what?" You look up at Alcina, totally lost.

"Alcina, you never told her?"

"Told me what?" Panic starts to build in your chest, is there something happening you don't know about? What's going on?

Alcina senses your panic and rubs your back and places gentle kisses on your forehead.

"It's okay my love, calm down. I'll explain everything soon, I promise." You nod your head as your panic starts to settle. "No Donna, I haven't. Is it safe to use on her? As far as I know she's never been exposed to it before."

"Were you born and raised here in the village?" Donna asks you and you nod your head yes. "There's a good chance she was exposed to it without ever realizing it. Most people from the village are. Alcina, this is our only option."

"Okay."

"What is it?" You ask.

"I promise draga I will explain everything, but please let us help you first." You look up at Alcina with worry in your eyes. "Do you trust me?" She asks as she looks deep into your eyes.

Looking back into her eyes for a few moments, you take a small breath and quietly say "Yes."

The corner of her lip curls into a small smile and she softly kisses you on the lips.

Donna pours some of the salve onto fresh gauze and walks up to you.

"I will warn you, this is going to sting." You nod your head and press your forehead into Alcina's chest so Donna can place the gauze on your wound. "Hold still."

Alcina removes the bloodied gauze and gently holds onto the back of your neck with one hand while the other rests on your back, her thumb gently caressing you. Donna presses the gauze into the gash on your head. It stings at first but all of the sudden the back of your head feels like it's on fire. You do your best to hold still but the pain is so intense your body begins to tremble again as your cry into Alcina. She tightens her grip on you trying to hold you still but to also comfort you.

After a few agonizing seconds that felt like minutes, Donna pulls away and the pain subsides. She runs her fingers through your hair where the wound was and you feel no pain.

"Perfect." She says, pleased with herself before she throws the used gauze away.

Running your own fingers through the back of your head, you realize the wound is gone. Alcina sees the shock and confusion on your face and smiles.

"It's gone, the salve healed it." Alcina says.

"Instantly? Why didn't you use this when I had to get stitches!"

"Because I wasn't sure how your body would react to it, it was such a minor injury I didn't feel the need to risk your health any further."

"Can it heal my arm?"

"That I am unsure of since it's technically an internal injury, but we can try. Let me see." Donna says. You reach out your arm and she gently takes hold of it, her soft, warm fingers tracing and gently feeling the bones in your wrist and arm. "Your wrist is definitely broken and I think you fractured your arm but I can't be certain without an x-ray. I can try soaking the salve in bandages and wrapping it around your arm to see if it works."

"And if it doesn't?" You ask.

"You may need to ingest it. But lets try this first."

Donna pulls out a small bowl from her bag and pours some of the salve into it. She dunks a few bandages into the bowl and wrings them out. Once she's satisfied she brings the wraps over to you and wraps your arm from your hand up to your elbow. It's definitely more than necessary but she'd rather do too much than not enough.

Quickly you feel a softer burning sensation, it wasn't as intense as the head wound, but Donna suspects that its because the salve has to work through your skin and muscle to get into the bones. She applies the salve to a few other scrapes and cuts you have and has Alcina lay you down to examine your stomach.

Alcina slowly pulls your shirt up to just under your breasts. As your skin is revealed to her you see a myriad of emotions in her eyes. Shock, sadness, pain, guilt, and anger all flash across them as she reveals the bruises riddling your skin from the kick.

Gently pressing her fingers into you, Alcina feels around your ribs for any cracks and your abdomen for any signs of internal bleeding. Although she can't feel any breaks, more tears fall from you when she presses against a few spots on your ribs.

"They may be fractured or just badly bruised. Your stomach is a little inflamed but I'm not certain of what internal injuries you may or may not have."

"She should drink it Alcina, even just to err on the side of caution in case she does have internal damage. Plus, her wrist still isn't healed and it might speed up the process." Donna says.

As you look at the two of them while they talk, your gaze focuses on Alcina. The woman you love. The woman who just brutally murdered someone right in front of you. You've never seen someone die before, especially not like that. You've heard the stories, how she brutally murdered innocent people for fun. It's not that you didn't believe them, it's just that they were just hard to believe. Especially when the Alcina you've come to know and love is so gentle, so kind, so loving; you wonder how much of her you've really seen.

"Is that alright with you draga?" Alcina asks. She notices you lost in your thoughts and gently cups your face, bringing your gaze to hers. "Draga?" Alcina pulls you out of your spiral and you look up at her. "Is everything okay?" Nodding your head, you know she's not convinced but she sighs, letting it go for now and gently strokes your cheek. "Are you okay with drinking the salve?"

"I guess?"

Donna walks over with a new bottle and a garbage can while Alcina helps you sit up. It hurts like hell but after a minute you're sitting up against the headboard.

Donna hands you the bottle and keeps the trashcan close to you.

"Try and drink half of it if you can. It is going to taste awful, but you have to swallow it and do your best at keeping it down."

You look over at Alcina, who adjusted herself to sit next to you on the bed, and she gives you a comforting smile and nods her head. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, you can see a little fear and worry in them.

Taking a deep breath, you bring the bottle to your lips and take a few large sips. Right before the liquid hits your tongue the smell fills your nostrils. Immediately your reaction is to pull it away because the smell is revolting but you fight the urge as you try and chug as much of it as you can. The second the salve hits your tongue you feel a burning sensation that follows the liquid down your throat and into your stomach. The taste is so awful you have to force yourself to keep drinking as tears run down your face. The salve sits heavily in your stomach and you feel your insides twist as your body tries to reject it. Pushing the bottle towards Donna, as soon as she grabs it you slap your hand over your mouth to try and stop yourself from vomiting.

Alcina is whispering praises as she rubs your back while your insides violently twist. The burning sensation feels like it's seeping out of your stomach and into every organ, every vein, every cell in your body until your entire body feels like its on fire. You tried your best to hold back your cries but as soon as you feel your ribs shifting and the bones in your wrist moving you scream, curing into fetal position on the bed.

The only other thing you could compare the feeling to would be when a fever breaks. But this sensation was a thousand times worse and filled with more pain that you've ever experienced. As the pain crescendos your stomach violently twists once more and you grab the trashcan from Donnas hand. Your body rejects everything that was in your stomach and you spill your guts into the garbage.

Once you're sure you're not going to vomit anymore you hand the garbage back to Donna and exhaustion floods your body. You practically collapse back into your spot as your body trembles from everything it just went through.

Alcina takes a handkerchief and gently wipes your mouth. Looking up into her eyes, all of the emotions you've felt over the last hour hit and you curl up into a ball and sob. Wrapping her arms around you, Alcina pulls you into her and holds you as tears of her own roll down her cheeks.

Watching you suffer was like torture to her. If she had to feel twice the pain you experienced just so you would have had none, she would have taken it in a heartbeat. She was so scared when she saw you laying at the bottom of the steps. For a moment terror filled her because she thought you were dead. Her heart had never sank so low so quickly in her life. She was relieved when she realized you were alive but then all she saw was red the second she laid eyes on Stefana. Truthfully when Alcina thought about killing her before this incident, she wasn't planning on making it quick. She had every intention of torturing her and letting her daughters do whatever they wanted to her until Alcina finally finished her off. But in that moment none of that mattered, she just needed that maid out of the way so she could get to you.

Alcina can feel your tiny body trembling underneath her as you cry. She carefully pulls you closer, afraid to hurt you more or again, and holds you.

"You're okay my love, you're safe now. You're safe." She whispers as she comforts you. "It's okay, it's okay. Close your eyes, you need to rest."

You try and close your eyes but the tears just keep falling. Alcina sits up in the bed and scoops you into her arms. She wipes the tears from your eyes and kisses you on the forehead while she gently rocks you. The sound of her heartbeat helps to calm you but its her voice when she starts softly singing that really soothed you. Slowly you started drifting off to sleep in Alcina's arms.

Alcina looked down at you as your eyelids fluttered closed, the tears stopped falling and she knew you were finally asleep when your breathing evened out. She sat there with you in her arms studying your face, she loved how peaceful you looked. That finally there wasn't a single thing in the world plaguing your brain. You were completely at peace. Never has she loved someone as much as she loves you in this moment.

Donna begins packing away her things and Alcina looks up at her. Donna meets her gaze and smiles at her sister. Her eyes flicker from you back up to Alcina and her smile deepens. Confident that you're in a deep sleep, Alcina get up and gently lays you on the bed and pulls the covers over you. She kisses your head and whispers "I love you, sweet dreams draga." before turning to face Donna.

"Lets speak elsewhere, she needs rest." Donna says softly.

"I will meet you downstairs."

Donna nods at Alcina and leaves the room with her bag in her hand. Alcina removes her blood-stained dress and throws on a simple black one. She looks you over once more before heading to the door and softly closing it behind her.

Downstairs Alcina meets Donna in one of the sitting rooms.

"I think we have to have a conversation my dear sister." Donna says quietly.

"I think we do too."

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Another one, thank you!

Barbie dolls: Evan x Barty x Regulus x genderfluid!reader

Word: 1.3k ish

Summary: you recently realized that you are genderfluid and are worried to tell your partners

Warnings: I made Sirius genderfluid, you're worried your partners will leave you, blowjobs mentioned, its a little too close to my jegulus one and it's making me wanna kms, JOKING JOKING we’re cool here right guys, Regulus gets a little pretentious and poetry boy, google translate French, I think that's about it

You loved your partners deeply. Evan, Barty, and Regulus were all lovely in each of their own ways. You told them just about everything. Sharing is caring as many say. However, you've been hiding certain feelings from them. Recently you've noticed things about yourself. Some days you felt like you were a man and others you were a woman. And on occasion, the rising sun would find you somewhere between. You didn't want to bother your lovers with such minuscule things like feelings. You'd prefer to just sit in silence and suffer on your own. You wanted to tell them everything. Every time you opened your mouth to spill everything you felt your throat dry up. You'd quickly reroute the conversation to Barty's day.

They noticed no matter how hard you tried to hide it. You were quieter and withdrawn. It set Regulus on edge, jumping at every sound. Barty wanted to fix it so he amplified his energy levels, squealing and bouncing all over the place around you. Evan just felt left behind. One-third of his lovers were hiding something. How could one's heart survive that? His mood was dampened, he looked close to tears every time he was reminded of you. Which was frequent.

You four planned out a study date, hosted in Regulus' dorm. You had started sitting together on his bed hunched over your schoolwork. It quickly devolved into your books being on the floor and the four of you tangled together. Regulus was lying on top of you, his cheek squished against your shirt. Evan was pressed into your side, squeezing your arm to his chest tightly. Barty was on your other side, pressing his face to the top of your head. You felt the weight of your confession on your shoulders. Usually, the boys would be tangled with each other an equal amount. Today, however, they were holding on to you. Evan’s hold on your arm made it seem he was convinced you’d run away. You were certain this had everything to do with your odd behavior. You decided you ought to handle this the mature way, with vague insecure questions.

“Would you still love me if I was a boy?” Regulus raised his head staring at you. You avoided his gaze, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. You heard Barty sniff and the weight of his chin left your head.

“Yes,” Regulus muttered, resting his chin on your clavicle.

“And if I was a girl?” Evan raised his head at that, staring at the side of your face intensely.

“Am I allowed to say ‘I’m off to fuck my girl’ in this scenario?” Barty asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. Evan groaned, reaching around you to pinch Barty’s nose.

“take this seriously, B. And yes darling, we will still love you if you’re a girl.” Evan said. He rubbed your shoulder, kissing your temple.

“What if I was neither? Or both?” Regulus hummed at you.

“Like Sirius?” Barty hissed at Regulus’ suggestion. Barty wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest.

“You dare to compare our lover to your brother, Regulus? Does he not call you a bitch on the regular?” Barty said. Evan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“B, your only child is showing. I call Pandora much worse things.” Evan explained, pushing Barty’s hair away from his forehead. Barty leaned back into Evan’s touch.

“Yes. Sirius also has boy days, girl days, somewhere in between days. Sometimes he’s a boy, others’s a girl, and even occasionally he’s neither. Is that how you feel, mon amour?” Regulus waited in silence, even Evan’s hand paused on Barty’s head. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“I’ll love you no matter who you are, you’re still you. You’re still my partner, girl, boy, both, neither.” Evan whispered to you. He kissed your cheek. Your breath hitched, waiting on the approval of your other two boyfriends. You imagined how they could easily leave, never speak to you. again, and crack your relationship in half. Barty pinched your shoulder.

“I’ll love you until my death,” Barty said, dragging his knuckle down your cheek.

“Bit dramatic, my love” you whispered. You didn’t want to speak much louder, scared if you did your partners would shank you. Regulus still hasn’t spoken. His chest was pressed into yours. He loved his brother beyond whether he’d call Sirius his brother or his sister. Could he love you that much?

“Regulus, you haven't spoken up yet,” Evan said wondering if Regulus forgot what they were talking about, entranced by you. It wouldn't be the first time. Regulus' finger graced over the underside of your chin, silently begging you to look at him. Your throat was tight and your eyes stung but you tilted your head down. You met Regulus' eyes, he tilted his head to the when he saw the tears brimming in your waterline.

“My love for you goes beyond the bounds of something so fickle as gender, mon coeur” Regulus quietly said, brushing his thumb over the bottom of your cheek. You pressed your lips together, feeling extremely close to crying. Regulus noticed and scooted up so he could press his lips under your eye. You felt a tear slip out the corner of your eye, racing back towards the mattress.

Evan kissed your temple while Barty's fingers traced your hairline. You let out a shaky sigh, your tears wavering your composure. After a few silent moments of your three boyfriends comforting you with their touches, Barty decided to speak up. His voice was still quiet, not wanting to fully disrupt the moment.

“You know, baby, I can eat a thesaurus too. I'll sound just like Reginald.” Barty said, smacking his lips loudly onto your forehead. Regulus groaned. Evan sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh my Godric,” Evan muttered as Regulus returned to his spot on your chest. Barty laughed, a little too close to your ear for your liking.

“Never sucking your dick again.” Regulus sniped before cuddling against you. A soft smile pulled over his lips as you played with his hair. Barty's tone dropped, his amusement depleting.

“Wait, really?” Barty asked, picking his head up. Regulus stayed silent, keeping his eyes closed. You felt your chest warm at his relaxed look.

“Regulus, are you being serious?” Regulus ignored Barty again, sitting with his lips sealed. You tucked his hair behind his ear.

“You're so pretty, Reg.” You whispered. Regulus' smile grew just a millimeter but it made Evan coo. Evan stroked Regulus' cheek with his knuckle.

“I'm getting hints of favoritism here,” Barty said. You craned your head back to look at him. He had a pout and grumpy eyebrows. You patted his cheek. Barty leaned towards you, puckering his lips out. You gave him a light peck, making his smile return at full brightness.

“It's okay, Baby. We still love you.” Barty hummed at your reassurance, pressing his cheek back against the crown of your head.

“I'll write you a poem showing my love tomorrow,” Regulus whispered into the material of your shirt. Barty let out a quiet gasp. You could practically hear him batting his lashes.

“You mean it, Reginald?” Barty asked with a high-pitched voice. Regulus pulled you tighter against him.

“Don't push it.” Barty deflated again, dropping back onto you. Evan reached over your head, caressing Barty's cheekbone.

“I’ll give you extra bacon tomorrow at breakfast,” Evan whispered, with the voice he used to seduce you three. You groaned, gripping onto the back of Regulus' shirt. Regulus pressed his nose into your shirt, face down in your stomach to avoid Evan's sultry tone. Barty swooned pushing his face further into Evan's hand.

“Oh, Rosie, how you woo me.” Regulus peaked an eye open at you. You both rolled your eyes at Barty's words but chose to let them have their moment. You settled back into quiet cuddles, now with a blanket of peace warming you four. Soon you heard Regulus' soft snores that made Evan coo and Barty leave a kiss on his forehead. You stayed as still as possible to not wake him.

[httpsdana]

84 Jude bellingham with a Brazilian reader PLEEASE

Sal o Azúcar ?~Jude Bellingham

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

I PUBLISHED THIS AND REALIZED THE REQUEST SAID BRAZILIAN READER. IWROTE THIS AS SPANISH IM SO SORRY. EITHER WAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

84-“as much as I love listening to your native language, you know I can’t understand shit.”

warning: this is google translated spanish

"why wouldn't you let me help you" Jude whined, following y/n around in the kitchen

"Jude. I've told you this a million times before. I cannot fuck up tonights dinner. this is the first time your parents are coming over here to Madrid and you helping me isn't gonna be the best choice" y/n repeated, sighing at the boy who was following her around

"that's really offensive" Jude mumbled, sitting down on the countertop

y/n knew he wasnt actually sad, but she was right about everything she said. Jude wasn't the best help in the kitchen

"you can help me by bringing me the ingredients when I want them" she suggested making Jude's face lit up

he nodded excitedly, jumping off the counter and standing next to her.

She started preparing the dinner with Jude standing next to her. The soup she was preparing needed salt and needed to be stirred well and she shouldn't stop the stirring

"Jude. salt please" she said, urging him to rush

He grabbed the jar of 'salt' and gave it to her. y/n, without looking, grabbed a big amount of it and put it over the soup, and continued her stirring

"thanks babe" she said, smiling at Jude. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, and stood beside her until she finished everything for the dinner

"Denise. Mark. its so good to see you guys again" y/n said, hugging the couple in front of her

"come on in. Jude is just getting dressed" she led them to the living room

"of course he's still late. I wonder if you're the one who waits for him when getting reafy for a date" his dad joked, making the three of them laugh

"I heard that"Jude said from behind, annoyance evident in his voice, but a smile was plastered on his face because of seeing his parents after a few months

He gave them both a hug, and they sat down for a chat

"I actually helped y/n with dinner" Jude said proudly, making his parents laugh

"oh no. how did that go?" Denise asked, making Jude put an offended hand on his chest

"it was alright. I didn't let him do anything beside bringing me the ingredients" y/n said, making his mother laugh

"that was a good choice. when he was young I had to beg him to leave me cook alone" she said, making her husband and y/n laugh

"that's not true" Jude gasped, making them laugh harder

"enough talking about how bad Jude is in cooking, how about I serve you guys dinner?" y/n got up, leading them to the dining room

She went to the kitchen, with Jude following her

"that wasn't nice" he pouted, making her chuckle

"well...we were only speaking the truth" she shrugged, placing her hands on his chest, his hands placing themselves on her hips

He just laughed, and leaned down, pressing his lips on hers. Before he had the chance to deepen the kiss, y/n moved back and pushed him away

"stop your parents are waiting for the food" she turned, grabbing the pot of soup

"take this. and I'll bring the rest" she gave it to Jude

They all sat down for dinner. y/n filling up the bowls of soup for the parents

Denise had the first sip of her soup, before she started coughing hard

"everything okay?" y/n asked, worried something might had happened to her

"honey. I think you're mistaken between the salt and sugar" she said, making y/n turn to look at Jude. He had an awkward look on his face when his girlfriend glared at him

"you gave me the sugar instead of the salt?" y/n asked, making Mark laugh out loud at his son

"how was I supposed to know its sugar instead of salt?" Jude said defensively

"Joder, Jude, ponemos la sal en el tarro azul y el azúcar en el tarro rosa." y/n said in an angry tone. before realizing she was speaking spanish instead on english (fucking hell Jude. we put the salt in the blue jar and the sugar in the pink jar)

Jude looked at her dumbfounded, before speaking up

“as much as I love listening to your native language, you know I can’t understand shit.” he said, making his parents chuckle

y/n let out a sigh, rubbing her temple before turning to his parents

"I'm really sorry guys. I promise he won't be entering the kitchen again" she glared at Jude

Denise shook her head and said everything was fine

"I think the rest of the food has sugar instead of salt too, how about we order some pizza?" Jude said with an awkward smile

They all laughed, before nodding

"let me do the talking. I don't think your spanish is good enough to order a normal pizza" y/n joked, grabbing the phone from Jude's hand

[romanoffsbish]

Hopelessly Devoted to You

Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Yelena Belova x Fem!R (brief)

Summary: Wanda made a big mistake, but who hasn’t? She never said she was a saint. It upset her that you weren’t more understanding, but it upset her more to see you trying to move on. There was no one better for you than her; she planned to show you that in malicious ways.

🎼 “My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him" ; My heart is sayin', "Don't let go. Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do. I'm hopelessly devoted to you. But now there's nowhere to hide. Since you pushed my love aside. I'm outta my head. Hopelessly devoted to you. 🎼

Warnings: Cheating, Breakup, Murder (beloved character), Kidnapping, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

Smut: Non-Con(Mind Manipulation), Top!R x PB!Wanda. Degradation, Strap(W), Oral (W), Choking, Squirting.

18+ | Minors DNI

Please, head the warnings, and don’t report.

(Images from Google)

——

Today was an amazing day for you, the mission you went on with Steve and Natasha was the final step taken to make you an Avenger. You were on top of the world after your oldest pal, Steve, shook your hand before yanking you in for a bear hug, "I knew you had it in you kid."

"Steve, I'm only three years younger than you and Buck, and I'm an Avenger now, cool it."

Natasha smirked, then she also pulled you in for a hug, but it was far less brutal, and you found her abundant warmth comforting.

Nothing was meant to ruin your shine today, but as you exited the jet to find only Tony and Yelena stood there your entire mood deflated. Bucky, your older brother was nowhere to be found, but more importantly neither was your girlfriend, and that was becoming her trend.

——

It was like a switch went off one day, and she just decided that living blissfully with you and your pigmy cats in the condo Tony bought for the two of you wasn't her cup of tea anymore.

At first you were devastated by the loss of her affections, but now, you're honestly fine with it. Over the years her loving hold became a bit too tight, a gentle cupping of your cheek turned into a harsh gripping of your chin. A night of passionate love making turned into a war-zone, the mattress no longer a place of solace, but instead a battlefield where you lost your love. It'd been as if a monster dead set on carnality took over your soft Sokovian girlfriend's body, and had no intentions of letting her go again.

It's suffice to say you were expecting her to be absent from your return, but what you weren't expecting was to hear the sound of her moans as you entered the once comforting home. After a moment of being frozen in time, a deja vu like experience for you, you decided that you were jumping the gun in assuming the worst.

So you slipped your jacket off, along with your shoes, then made a beeline for your sleeping felines so you could calm your anxiety down a smidge before you got the courage to pinpoint the source of your girlfriend's clear euphoria.

"Wish me luck loves," you muttered into their fur as you place a kiss to each of their faces.

Sadly though, no amount of preparation could have been enough for the sight you walked in on. Bucky, your found brother, the man who's family took you in after your family died in a plane wreck, was pounding into your lover. There wasn't an ounce of remorse in his stance, and you knew by the way Wanda screamed out in pleasure that she definitely didn't feel bad.

Neither of them acknowledged your presence, but you knew by the sight of Wanda's slight smile that she knew you were there, and that made you sick to your very core. The idea that you'd given her the best years of your life just for her to throw it in your face so devastatingly was far too hard for you to bare in the moment.

All you knew was that you needed to get out, and you needed to do it right away, and it was as you loudly shuffled about the space that finally broke your 'brothers' focus, and got Wanda to see her plan coming to life.

Or better yet, crumbling before her very eyes.

Wanda watched you frantically stuffing your belongings in a duffle bag, and in this moment her every recent decision was backfiring.

"Baby, it was a mistake, please don't leave!"

"Mistakes don't occur with these precise of calculations," you spit while tossing your bag over your shoulder, "Your choices, Wanda, those do however come with consequences."

"Y/N, please, she’s right—it was a mistake."

"No, save your pleading for someone who cares Bucky, as far as I'm concerned my brother died with his arm—James would never have hurt me like this," you shoved by him, only to be stopped by Wanda blocking the front door.

"Y/N/N, I'm begging you, don't leave me!"

A bitter chuckle rumbles from your chest, hot tears too fill your eyes as the anger and sadness blend into one, "Now you," you paused to reel your emotions in as best you could, "God, I can't believe I ever believed you loved me."

"I do love you. Y/N, please listen to me."

"Newsflash Wanda: Love isn't meant to hurt!"

Wanda frowned, her tone serious enough to match her state of delusions, "All the greatest love stories come with a mix of love and pain."

"In Hollywood movies—sure, in real life, no."

Wanda's eyes were slowly changing hues to her secondary shade, crimson, and that was your sign to get out before she was to implode.

"Don't look for me," you reiterated your clear stance, "I'm no longer yours to seek out," and with the twist of your wrist you were gone.

Wanda crumpled to her knees, of all the many scenarios she ran through, this wasn't one of the ones she foresaw. For some reason she thought you'd fall apart, and need her to bring you back out of the slump her cheating caused. Hell, she even chose your brother for the shock but it seems you couldn't have cared any less.

"Wanda," Bucky crouched down, offering her a smile, but it only masqueraded happiness, his cerulean orbs were swimming with guilt.

The sight of the man now made her nauseous.

"Get out Barnes," Wanda snarled, pushing his extended hand away she removed her body from in front of the door, "This was a mistake."

After your defeated, cheat of a chosen brother left your once shared apartment Wanda's eyes returned to a serene shade of green. It was funny how you thought you had a choice here, taking off in a huff like that as if she couldn't find you just as fast as you could teleport.

Wanda however was methodical, she would let you think you were free to roam as you pleased. Then, when you least expected it, she'll reclaim you as hers, because you would always be hers. She just has to set up a few things beforehand.

——

It was a long three months, but the witch was taking the time to set up your cabin in Norway while also giving you a false sense of security.

Back when things were still going well, she remembered your dreams of retiring in a secluded little cabin with her, and your family. Whether that be the pets, or the kids you both had always wanted, logistics didn't matter to her much at the end of the day, only you did.

Her precious baby Y/N, poor, unsuspecting fool that she is, would soon be hers again, and with that came a promise of total permanence.

When she finally returned to New York she could feel your aura, it was no longer dull, and that made her heart twinge with momentary guilt, but it was swiftly forgotten when she stumbled upon you settled into the lap of Yelena at a cafe; she nearly lost all control.

—

You had no idea of the prying eyes, sure you felt an uneasiness in your chest as you walked down the streets of New York with Yelena, but you just chocked that up to the late night hour.

"Y/N, would you like to gaze at the stars?" you smiled softly at your friend, you weren't yet a couple, but it has been fun testing the waters.

Yelena was everything Wanda no longer is, and you’re honestly starting to believe that maybe she never was. Yelena was funny, and though she was snarky, it never was something you experienced directly. With you all she ever offered was an unfamiliar gentleness, and an abundant patience you felt undeserving of, it was as if with every passing day she was able to remind you that you deserved to be cared for without any sort of underlying stipulation.

"Of course, I'll go grab us a blanket," you settled a sweet kiss on her cheek, not missing the way the stoicism melted as she blushed.

"Bring snacks too!" Yelena shouted after you, voice cracking as she did, but you didn't let her know you caught it, instead you softly chuckled then disappeared around the corner. “Chips!”

The further you walked away from Yelena the more you were starting to feel a surge in intensity surrounding your ever growing uneasiness. Stargazing with her was one of your favorite things to do so you’re not sure why you were so anxious, but you chocked it up to something reminiscent of first date jitters.

You entered your apartment with a swiftness, not wanting to leave the blonde waiting for long. So you changed into a comfy sweatsuit, scrounged around the kitchen for her chips, then grabbed your fluffiest of blankets. After about ten short minutes you made your way up the long set of stairs to gain access to the roof. Your apartment building had many faults, but the luxurious patio wasn’t one of them.

“Hey Lena, I brought you Doritos, both cool ranch and nacho, and the off brand hot fries.”

“Y/N, get out of here, now!”

You looked up instantly, the bags in your hands hit the ground as you saw Yelena dangling over the streets of New York, you didn’t see her yet, she was cloaked by shadows, but the wisps of red holding the girl hostage told you who the perp was, “Wanda, put her down, now!”

“Okay,” Wanda shrugged with an indifference in her eyes as she made her self visible, the light of the moon showcasing her wicked grin, effectively stealing the air from your lungs as she slowly began removing her magic from around the young blonde’s body. Agonizingly slowly too, you regretted the words as soon as you said them, of course she’d take it literally.

“No, Wanda, please,” you shrieked, “Let her go, and I’ll go with you, wherever you want me to.”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Wanda pursed her lips as she gave way to thought, “She knew better than to touch what isn’t hers, yet she did it anyways, she clearly didn’t care about consequences.”

“Y/N, you need to get out of here, please go,” Yelena kept her face neutral, but you heard the slight quiver in her voice, saw the fear in her eyes, you knew she was beyond terrified; it was a bit morbid, but the way she cared for you even while in danger because of you warmed your heart while simultaneously breaking it.

“Wanda, she’s just a friend,” you tried, but all she did was offer you incredulous laughter, “You’re playing games Y/N, and you know whenever we play together, I always win.”

“Wanda! This isn’t a game, leave Yelena out of this, we can go, nobody will come for us.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m clueless, they’re all going to come to save you,” Wanda spat, “Yelena isn’t the only one in my way, so, it seems all I can do is slow them down,” she flicked her wrists, and Yelena went falling.

“No!”

Just as you were about to teleport to catch the blonde Wanda paralyzed your mind into a state of half consciousness, she wrapped you up and lifted you above the edge, tilting your body so you were parallel to the second victim of your tainted love, the first one being your own heart. Yelena lay in a jagged shape, limbs bending in ways they were never meant to, in a growing pool of blood, you felt an urge to vomit, but the paralyzation prevented it from ever surging.

“What a shame she had to die,” Wanda mockingly mourned the woman she killed, with a wide smile on her face to contrast the tears trailing down yours, “She was really funny.”

A blur of red surrounded your bodies like a force field, you blinked, never to open your eyes with joy again. It wasn’t something you registered at first, but when you finally allowed your eyes to flutter open you saw glimmering rays of sunlight hovering above your face.

To your shock there was no restraint system in place, besides the hardly dressed body of your ex. You silently retched at the sight of her fitting so perfectly into the crook of your elbow. An image reminiscent of olden times, when you were blissfully unaware of her unhinged status, but no longer could you look at her with love.

Wanda was a monster, that much you would carry in your heart until the day you died. Likely at her hands at this very point…

“I wouldn’t kill you Y/N,” she sighed in a slur, shortly to be followed up by a dainty yawn, “You’re my greatest love Y/N; destined to be forever you and me darling, you’re safe here.”

You scoffed, ripping your arm from beneath her body, “I’m no safer in a volcano than I am with you Wanda, you’re a sick, vile creature!”

Wanda grit her teeth as she moved to hover above you, her hand harshly slapped you in the face, causing a pool of blood to gather as you had bit your tongue, “Watch your tone whore.”

“Make me,” you growled, a flicker of insanity rolled through your eyes and she smirked, you could pretend all you wanted that you weren’t, but you were just as crazy as she was. “I will.”

Wanda removed herself from your eye-line, but she didn’t stay gone for long, soft red wisps permeated your temple, you audibly gasped, “Wanda, knock it the fuck off right now.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, your words were not convincing enough when your thighs were shamelessly rubbing together. Her wrist flicked, changing the imagery in your mind from her in the nude with her hands in her pussy to one of you fucking her from behind.

“Wanda, please stop,” you were losing your will to fight off her advances with every passing scene, each one more sinful than the last, you were always fucking weak when it came to her.

After only three more scenes she’d come out triumphant. “I need to taste you, please.”

“But what about Yelena?” she feigned heartbreak, “I thought we were in mourning.”

“W-Wanda please,” you begged, a pit of need settled beside the deeper pit of guilt in your abdomen, “I, I need to fuck you so bad.”

Wanda snorted, “Look at you, I just killed your girlfriend and you’re desperate to fuck me.”

The glare you sent would normally intimidate the person on the receiving end, but Wanda one upped you with a soft tilting of her head. Just like always you softened, a docile air to you as you let the fear sink into your bones. Wanda smirked at you, a show of victory if you will, because as angry as you presented, she was still the one who wins in the end. You might top, but she’s always the one in control.

With a synchronous blink you both reopened to find all layers had been shred from your bodies and the only addition was the massive black strap dangling between your legs.

“Go on detka, make me cum, I won’t ask twice.”

For a moment you were stuck in place, there was an insane amount of slick coating the inner thighs of your former lover, it left you stunned. Wanda watched as you reflexively licked your lips as you eyed her with lust clouded eyes.

“With your strap, you know tasting me is a reward you have to earn,” you rolled your eyes, but like an obedient puppy you give in, with a care you honestly didn’t feel you guided the tip through her folds to collect her essence, you swiped two fingers through next in route to her swollen bundle of nerves where you began to harshly rub circles into it, distracting her from the pain as you pushed the fat tip past her tight hole. The stretch alone brought her to the edge, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she fell.

There was no love in your movements, you rut your hips with ferocity, grunted into her neck angrily as you were frustrated with yourself for enjoying this twisted reality of sinfulness. Wanda’s moans were enraging you, it was a confusing feeling in your body, you desperately wanted to bring her body to the edge of bliss, while impossibly wanting her to not enjoy it.

“Fuck me harder detka! Make me cum!”

“Shut the fuck up Wanda,” you growled as you rose, a firm hand now sat on her hip to hold you up so you could utilize the other to constrict her airway. Fingers wrapped tightly around her throat as your hips fucked your strap so much deeper into her than before due to a shift in angle, and thus she was losing the ability to match you in both pace and vigor.

Wanda clawed at your arm when you tightened your grip almost dangerously. The fear you caused only aided in the unraveling of the pit in her stomach, her orgasm came out in a gush, soaking your thighs and the grey sheets below.

Even in the hatred of it all you couldn’t fight the way your heart fluttered at the gorgeous sight of her coming undone for you. No one else could ever make her this fucked out, with her eyes having had to of rolled to the depths of hell with how far they retracted into her body.

The way her chest heaved incessantly once you let your grip of her go, dark red lines left in your wake that added to her overall beauty. Layered perfectly over the harsher marks you’d already left behind with your grazing teeth.

Wanda pulled you in for a brief kiss, it was sloppy, and full of a mutual aggression as your teeth clashed, and hers drew blood from your lips when she held onto your lower one while lightly shoving you backwards as a hint to remove the strap from within her, and once again you did as she wanted like a weak bitch.

“Clean up the mess you made,” Wanda barked, spreading her legs even wider for you to see just what you’d done after strapping her, it disgusted you just how excited you were to be allowed to taste her, reaping a tainted reward.

Her words echoed in your mind as you realized the mess spread beyond this room. Because back home your friends mourned, and buried Yelena all the while you were across seas in Norway in a somewhat similar state, immense guilt pounding in your chest as your face was buried between the legs of the devil herself

They always say, to know love is to know pain; loving Wanda was akin to a dagger to the heart, a passionate surge of adrenaline, followed by waves of agony, and boy was it a messy affair.

——

3,196 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 29 Thoughts: Lost in Translation

We're at the penultimate episode of the season, folks. It's a surprisingly standard episode given what we had for the last one. It's also a very TMA flavoured one at that. This episode, despite being written by Alex, might have taken the top spot for one that feels the most like an Archives ep. Which isn't a bad thing. Or even a good thing. However it is an enjoyable thing and I thought this episode was really well put together on the whole. Also, fun fact for the non-readers; this episode was originally called "Locked In".

Spoilers for episode 29 below the cut.

Sam's not dead. What a shock. Genuinely, I've no real clue why people thought him dying there was a possibility. It would've been probably the least satisfying death possible for a central character. I am so on board with Sam’s death at some point though. Maybe at the end of act 1 or the midpoint of act 2 in season 3. If only to shut up the small contingent of the fanbase upset over their own invented issues about him being the sole main character whom all other characters exist to support. The gang is off to Hilltop to find all that juicy Magnus lore.

I don't think there is much to get into for Lena and Gwen's exchange here but I do think it's set up for her role in the finale. So I'll cover that later.

I really liked this incident. It felt very classically Magnus to me and was just a really solid self-contained story. It's also a really good one for using the format it's in the the benefit of the narrative being told. The structure of it as a diary and how that's used to show something traumatic happening before it's ever spoken of was very well done. The characters being an older couple also is something I think is really clever too. Not just because it helps explain the diary format. I think in a literal sense this episode doesn't need much of my insights. It was all pretty clear exactly what happened. Old couple redid their proposal holiday to tragic results leading to the survivor taking their own life via magic key. Tale as old as time that one is. There are a few language details to talk about though. The husband was called Stanley Locke. Stanley is a brand of locks. I can only assume that was intentional. The other reason them being old is important to the events is I think a younger couple would've just not gone into the locked museum. Because that's what the place is. Zamčené muzeum isn't a *lock *museum, it's a *locked *museum. Google translate would've solved this whole episode then and there. The major thing to actually talk about here is the incident's placement as the penultimate incident. It's not likely to be a randomly placed one and given it's about opening all sorts of barriers I think it's pretty obviously foreshadowing for our finale. Hilltop has more than one thing needing to be opened. The Institute's secrets, and the gap in reality. It also mirrors [Error]'s introduction as the first thing they do is open a padlock.

Teddy's near-confession is the most interesting thing in this whole episode for my money. Mostly because it's such fertile ground for speculation. There are a lot of ways it could go but there are some facts that I think point us in a direction. He still works at Royal Mint Court/was interviewed for a job there. He's still up all night. He's got a big secret he needs to tell Alice that's important to her current circumstances enough to be urgent. Meaning he therefore has new information he didn't have before he left. Which means where he is now is in a place that could provide said information. The OIAR has more going on behind the scenes than we ever see yet is seemingly staffed by a tiny amount of people. Which points to Teddy maybe still just being at the OIAR. Either just moving up in the organisation and the party was a ruse, or he was headhunted after he left and his work fell through. It could also be a company like Starkwall too, if there is any real difference between the two. Some offshoot of the Institute is also a possibility given the link between Newton and the Royal Mint. Or, he's been scooped up by Klaus.

The final scene here doesn't have an awful lot to comment on. It's somewhat curious that [Error] is able to get around so unseen but we do know she can teleport. I'm assuming she's on the train to get Celia's secrets about the Institute. Plenty of time for that too as London to Oxford is about an hour on the train. Not really anywhere for them to hide either so they're probably pretty fucked.

Now the long wait until next week begins.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What sort of penultimate episode post would be complete without some finale predictions? I think there are a fair few pieces in play here and so there are quite a lot of things to speculate on.

I think there are some fairly obvious things that are likely to happen. Celia is going to get [Error]ed and exposition dump about her whole deal. It's got to come out some time and I think in general the show has been foreshadowing this pretty hard with Gwen and Sam both getting [Error]ed. The other major possibility here is that Alice gets got and she's got some secret twisty trauma. If *Connor is her dead name then she *is on CHDB (the Institute's list of children they tested, see the master sheet below) but I would generally hate that. I mean, they might pull it off but I really don't want Alice to have that backstory. She is the character we know the least about so far though and there have been more than a few hints about the fate of her parents. So it's a strong possibility too IMO. Albeit it does mean that Alice would need to catch up with them somehow. Maybe Teddy can give her a lift and we'll hear what was on his mind. Or it's both as this will be a double-length episode so there is room for that.

Speaking of [Error] it seems likely that Celia is going to reveal at least what she knows about Archivists. With [Error] being this season's antagonist it's likely that she's going to get defeated in the finale and as such we'll lose the best opportunity to learn more about her. Revealing that information after she's dealt with is less impactful. They might end up [Error]ing themselves and given a statement, or villain monologuing. It's curious that they're so obviously capable of speech and have said so little though. So I am expecting something to change there.

Hilltop could go a lot of ways. It could be a gaping maw in realities that sucks our cast off to someplace new. It could be nothing but some clues to the Institute's purpose. I don't have much in the way of anything I'd like it to be either. I generally think it'll be the least interesting bit of the finale. The biggest thing it could answer it won't, that being JMJ, and so I'm content to just let that one play out and not think about it too much. In either case Hilltop is likely to play some role in defeating [Error] and if I had to hazard a guess I think it's likely we'll see some of the great cosmology at play here. Both in terms of TMP itself but I think we'll get some hints at how things have changed from TMA/how TMA's things have changed.

I think we're also going to see a good bit of Gwen going being Lena's back too. Assuming we're not going to jump forward in time at all then Gwen is currently alone in the office and is clearly planning things. I don't think we'll necessarily see anything major happen but I do think it's a pretty likely hook for season 2. Either something to do with Klaus or the other strange emails. It's that or Colin is going to break in and cause some havoc. Gwen is the character I most see going along with him on this too. I think that might be a surprising take to some of you but Gwen is unique in that she doesn't actually give a shit about him, and also wants to ruin Lena's career. Colin wrecking the place while she's not there would certainly do some damage to her job stability.

I'm not too sure we'll see much of the other voiced cast. I can't really see a reason for Lena, Teddy, Ink5oul, or anyone else to get involved in the finale. Although Lena could certainly be a big part of the epilogue assuming any of the Gwen stuff goes down like I expect.

Anyway, lots to look forward to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

DPHW Theory: 4254 is unremarkable. At this point I really don't know what it'd take to tip my theory on its head.

CAT# Theory: CAT2 is another funny one for the Person/Place/Object idea. The museum was arguably supernatural but the key was obviously supernatural. So if anything this should be CAT3 or potentially a CAT23 but it's just CAT2. If it is P/P/O I'm going to need a really strong explanation for why it sucks so bad.

R# Theory: Yeah, B sounds good to me. Strong physical evidence of a thing happening but nothing that definitively proves the supernatural. Going into the finale this whole theory seems to be holding pretty well. At least for non-Ss. An S could be a lot of things though so we'll see.

Header talk: Drowning (Subterranean) -/- Key (Metaphor) is somewhat interesting in that Key (Metaphor) can be read as the key itself being entirely metaphorical. I think that's fairly obviously wrong but it's interesting. The meaning is more that the key has the ability to open things in a metaphorical sense. It works on more than just doors, after all. So the key itself is real but it works on a looser interpretation of "opening" than just locks and doors. Beyond just that interpretation there is also the metatextual element that the incident itself is metaphorical for what's to come. Assuming it wasn't randomly placed, that is.

[toddycats]

Actually can I talk about how being a furry let me come out of the closet to myself about being trans? Because I don’t think I talk about it enough.

I think most of my followers on here didn’t follow my original toddy-cats blog (I lost access to it, it still exists out in the world) but I made that when I randomly decided, mid pandemic, that I wanted to Become Part of the Furry Fandom. At the time, I had a really transphobic partner, barely ate food due to stress, and had crippling dysphoria with no name to put to it. I desperately wanted to be ABLE to be trans, but I thought I wasn’t suffering enough to be trans. I thought I wasn’t allowed because i was having this crisis at 20 instead of at 5. I thought I wasn’t allowed to just decide to transition. But I DID know I could just decide to be a furry, and it sounded like a good time.

So I reached out to some cool people I followed on tumblr at the time and asked them questions about being a furry (to which they responded “you can just be one. Do whatever you want forever.”) and I watched every episode of The Bottle on YouTube, and I drafted a design for a civet fursona — Salem, (she/her). I said “I love her! She’s amazing!” And then I said “hm.”

I thought to myself “well the thing about making a fursona for yourself is that you can just make them look like whatever you want, and act like however you want, and BE someone that you aren’t in real life.”

And so I did some googling along the lines of “is it problematic to have your fursona be a gender that you aren’t.” And people said “you can do whatever you want forever.” And so, Salem (she/her) became Salem (she/they) — nonbinary and bi-ace. In contrast, at the time, I publicly identified as an allo bi woman with a preference for dating men. But the furries online said I could do what I wanted with my fursona, and it felt right.

Over time, I made friends with the people who helped me get into the fandom. I made friends with their friends, and we made a discord server, and I used my fursona as my online persona. I asked people to call me Salem, and I asked people to use she/they pronouns, because that’s what Salem used.

And then I noticed something. I noticed that I LIKED using they/them pronouns. A LOT! More than she/her! And I LIKED drawing Salem as dressing and looking more masc! I realized I wanted to look cool like them! And then I realized I could change my fursona’s pronouns (and by extension my own, among my online friends) so that people used they/them for me ALL THE TIME. I could game the system! Then I realized that I could LITERALLY JUST PRESENT MASC IRL AND LOOK COOL AND BE HAPPY AND COMFY LIKE SALEM IS.

And now it’s been like nearly three years since all this started and I’m out to my family and my irl friends and at work. Salem has wings now. I’ve been debating changing my irl name to Salem, among other options. I’m going on HRT. I have a top surgery consult scheduled. I feel like a person with a future. I weigh a normal amount and am not skin and bones. I can go out in public without hyperventilating at the Trader Joe’s. I have a job in the field I trained for (biotech). I have a partner who is also trans and also a furry. We’re going to move in together and live in a little house with ivy growing up the walls. We have a cat. Life is the most worth living that it’s ever been for me.