#the kind of stress that makes you wake up two hours early and feel like your brain was still working all night

[neverendingford]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

Is anyone else sleeping an abnormal amount at night but still getting tired in the day

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 1

I’ve seen everyone doing these drabbles/aus and I wanted to join! 🤠

content warning: It gets suggestive towards the end so MINORS BEWARE.

word count: 719 (kind of proofread, I got excited)

Daydreaming about GymRat!Miguel x PlusSize!Reader / Chubby!Reader and the dynamic of big tall bf x shorter chubby gf 🚻

Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who started off as an awkward, lanky, nerdy teen using the gym to blow off steam. His mom felt that he wasn’t a great influence to his brother, his father wasn’t his real father, and his step-brother was an asshole.

GymRat!Miguel who’s nearly triple his weight by the time he starts college, body full of muscle. His mom has calmed down despite him previously eating her out of a house and a home. His biological dad agreed to help with any leftover college expenses and his step-dad helps him move on campus. He’s tearful when he hugs Gabriel goodbye, promising to call and play their weekly games.

GymRat!Miguel who stays loyal to his nerdy roots and aims for a Science degree with a minor in Robotics for fun. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his classes, body taking up the ends of lab tables. Even though he prefers to sit in the front of classes, he opts to sit in the back so that everyone can see. He’s constantly using office hours and lingering after class so that he can make sure that his notes are correct.

GymRat!Miguel who first meets you in one of his bio labs and is immediately enamored by you. Your clothes hug your curves, you smell sweet, and something on you always matches. Your shoes and your backpack, your skirt and your jacket, your accessories and your nails.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up being in your group for a project and watches in awe as you take the lead, helping everyone decide which parts to complete. You go out of your way to make the powerpoint colorful and creative. You’re ecstatic when he turns in his parts extra early as everyone else has gone a-wall.

GymRat!Miguel who calms you down when the deadline is near and the rest of the group still hasn’t done their part. You two meet late in the library to finish everything. He thinks you’re adorable despite how stressed and tired you are. He makes the last minute decision to delete the other two group member’s names off of the title slide, taking the initiative to email the teacher before hand.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the lab building on presentation day 50 minutes early and sees you being cornered by the other group members eyes full of confusion. He quickly walks over asking if there was a problem. Seeing him looming over them, the two decide give up, and scramble together a last minute presentation.

GymRat!Miguel who explains everything, telling you not to worry about the others and just focus on you all’s presentation. You two have great presentation, chemistry blooming as you bounce off each other. You both get an easy A and you hug Miguel out of an excitement before the next lab starts.

GymRat!Miguel who imprints the feeling of your body against his in his memory. Your smell, how soft you were, how small you felt in his arms, how tight you squeezed him.

GymRat!Miguel whose dreams of you have him tossing and turning in his twin sized bed that was far too little for him. He scares his poor roommate to death when his body hits the floor with a big boom. The dream of you under him shattering as he collides with the ground. He groans and apologizes to his roommate, pain in his side and his groin.

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower, too aroused to go back to sleep. He bites his fist trying to quiet his moans, not wanting to wake his roommate for a second time. He replays images of you in his mind, pulling at his length until he shutters against the tile walls.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart drops when he checks his phone after his shower. You followed him on Instagram three hours ago. He checks your page and sees that you're private, but your profile picture is a lot. It's an angle from above you, your cleavage on display.

GymRat!Miguel who stands in the bathroom ogling at the photo like an idiot. He clicks the follow back button, watching as it shifts to pending, and stares down at his body again. He sighs and turns the shower back on, banking on his roommate sleeping through everything once again.

You had no idea the effect you had on him.

dividers by @y-onb 🩵

Leave a like and a comment! Let me know how you feel 😶‍🌫️

[lunarw0rks]

sweet thing | part one

˖⁺‧₊˚ read it on ao3 | masterlist | ask box | next part

price takes a liking to his neighbor. vulnerable, expecting, and in need of his helping hand. it's a good thing he always wanted a family.

john price x pregnant!reader (based on this idea of mine.)

warning(s): MDNI (18+); NOT EDITED, price is touch starved and kinda pathetic, pregnancy, angst/depression, alcoholism, fluff, fem!reader [wc: 1.3k]

Involuntary stress leave, they called it.

But for John, it was just short of decay. Sedentary, bitter—restless. Stuck at home while there's still a fight to be fought, men who need guidance. His men.

Before the stress does him in, he figures boredom will close in on him first, and it would be less merciful than any bullet or blade. Chores are a necessity, and hobbies are nothing more than a temporary soothe to his aches.

Every morning, irony wakes him up cold. Takes its pound of flesh. The world he devoted his adult life to fighting for, has nothing in it for him.

(Stiff fingers, heaving chest, bile in his throat, tremors marring his nervous system.)

It's hours before he can shake the feeling, so he compromises by rising at ungodly hours and fulfilling a rigid routine—still a trained soldier to his core. And by nightfall, he nurses a bottle until he's warm again, ready for the reset at dawn.

As they gaze out the window, his eyes search for purpose. Two fingers parting the blinds. Something, anything, please. But nothing. The sharp sting of cheap booze rushes past his teeth, and he's ready to retreat.

He winces through the taste before he's at attention again. The rumble of an engine cut short right next door. He angles himself to catch a clear view of the person. Instinct yells for him to be vigilant, but the sight in front of him snuffs the bellow.

The flow of a slip dress in the breeze, sticky strands of hair pulled back, glowing skin, a nurturing hand resting on the bump that shows through the fabric.

You look anything but thrilled while you wrangle your bags and fight the wind gusts, and you're well aware of it.

All John sees is bloom. Purpose. Duty.

Before he can gather all his wits, he's closed the front door behind him, his spilled bottle dribbling along the end table. It's not so much your beauty that drives him; he isn't a superficial man and can't afford to be.

A living, breathing person is what quickens his stride. Someone to talk to. Someone to touch and study. As of late, the only people near have been on the other side of the TV screen, fueled by dramatics and in character.

You find yourself stuck in your headspace again, mentally listing all the tasks that await you inside your house. Chores, mostly, some grocery shopping—and loads more of that endless baby planning. Relaxation wasn't an option and you're actively learning to accept that. Although, it's admittedly difficult to feel any other way when you've got another human to consider now.

John clears his throat. "Let me take tha' for you, darling."

He waits until you meet his stare to extend a hand, fingers grazing the flimsy straps of your shopping bags. You freeze, soaking in the sight of him.

"Hm?" Your brows knit together, and it's only then that you catch up with him.

"Your bags."

The man has already taken them before the words finish rolling off his tongue, but he stays in place.

A soft chuckle comes out of you to crack open the sheet of embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it today."

Pregnancy brain, you want to blame it on. But deep down you know it's because kindness is a new taste nowadays.

Most are courteous and accommodating, making way for you. Others look at you like dirt on their shoes. Fatigue draining your features doesn't help, and neither does the absence of a wedding band. Early on, you were naive enough to believe society had moved beyond the stigma. Wrong, more wrong, and a fool is all you are nowadays, even if only in your head.

Exhausted, not out of it, he analyses, and his heart aches.

"It's alright." His voice is smooth as nectar, leaving goosebumps on your skin that you'll chalk up to the wind. "Shouldn't be carrying all this by yourself, anyhow."

You fight the urge to scoff and instead lead the way to the front porch.

He's right. You shouldn’t be doing any of this alone.

Turning the key, you step inside and let the words spill. “Yeah, I, uh— I didn’t have anyone to call.”

Price should be more shocked by your words, but he isn’t. He is really, and truly, desensitized to all the misfortune around him. And it’s not any different with you. His eyes—conditioned to spot every minute detail of a person—took milliseconds to notice your left hand.

Feel her out. Find out more.

“That so?” He questions softly but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. You’ve painted the whole picture and more.

His words are full of every sensibility possible. “That’s a shame.” Pity. Empathy. Grief. Outrage. All except condescension; none of this is your fault, he can sense it.

You expect admonition.

Leading a stranger inside is bad enough, and walking the fine line between small talk and oversharing is worse.

But you can’t bring yourself to taste it. Outside of some coworkers and your mother, this is your first taste of organic interaction, and it’s been overwhelmingly amicable so far. Not something you can take lightly; loneliness is prevalent.

You let out a tired sigh, letting the silent gesture speak for itself. What else can you say? He's already got you pegged after spending all but two minutes with you. Makes you wonder how you haven't noticed him sooner, though you remember his driveway is usually vacant and the blinds are always closed.

By now, it's obvious that if he had ill intentions, he would've acted on them by now. The silence isn't thick or stiff—it's refreshing, oddly enough.

When his mouth upturns, the crow's feet around his eyes are made visible. They've witnessed things, awful things, no doubt. But he's also got a world of wisdom in them.

This is the part where you find a farewell, something moderately polite so you don't feel awful for kicking him out. (Not your fault you need to rest your feet. At least you get the sense that he'll understand.)

In search for the words, you place a hand on your stomach, "well, it was kind of you to bring that in, uh—"

"—John." He interjects.

Out of habit, you form a clumsy smile and ache to get the proper words out. "It was very kind of you, John. Thank you."

Without any further direction, he's able to pick up on your hints for him to make his exit. The bar is so low these days, it's almost shocking. Shuffling to follow him to the front door, your hand seizes the knob.

There's a lot left unsaid, despite meeting your handsome neighbor only a short time ago. The voice inside urges you to keep it short. Send him off, get out of his hair. He was just being nice.

"I should thank you again," you blurt, almost abruptly. Price turns on his heels with little surprise, a leer written on his thin lips. "Next time, I'll take another trip to carry the bags."

"No next time, love." A purr and a new nickname.

Too smitten to even notice the ruffle of some paper when he reaches a hand in his pocket. Even stole the pen off your entry table (a.k.a the junk-pile-of-mail-table) and you were none the wiser. Dated, the way he scribbles on the crumbled receipt and hands it to you between his index and middle.

Heat rises up your neck and to your face when you inch closer to retrieve the number, somehow finding it within yourself to not break eye contact. John's gaze stays genuine, despite the puff of his chest and the way he breathes your scent in shamelessly.

Albeit frazzled—you weren't born yesterday; he's attractive and extremely luring and you're single and hormonal. Wouldn't take much for something to happen.

And if not, you know you'll have fond daydreams, at the very least.

"You ever need anything, give me a call. 'M good for more than bag carrying."

[carlsangel]

SO FUCKING ANXIOUS

carl grimes x reader

(negan arrives to alexandria and carl knows how to make you feel better.)

tags: some angst but mostly fluff

masterlist here!

sorry for the aggressive title :>

The apocalypse was never easy on you, granted it wasn’t easy on anyone but you were always the type to say you’d never make it in a world like that. And you believed that, genuinely. Until you met Carl. You felt so lucky to have someone like him to love you, he’d known you so well, especially after all you’d been through together.

After the prison and Terminus, you hated the thought of crossing any human again, anyone who wasn’t in the group.

He knew everything that was slightly stress inducing to you, he made sure to make you feel relatively safe even in the worst of situations. When you’d gotten to Alexandria, you felt so incredibly relieved. Strong walls, not having to worry about scavenging for dinner or walkers, you were ecstatic.

That was until walkers had breached the walls. Every feeling you had telling you were safe was gone completely. Everything worsened when Carl got shot, you had no idea what to do or who to go to. You’d gone to him for everything and he couldn’t be there for you this time.

You had hoped and hoped for hours he’d wake up. Eventually he did and everything was weary for a month or two. The transition back to normal after losing the sense of security in Alexandria was rough. You didn’t think you’d be able to return to normal. You saw a slight glimpse of hope as new settlements were introduced.

That also went to shit.

You knew what your people had done at the satellite station would come back to bite you all in the ass and you couldn’t help but feel so fucking anxious about it.

The night of the lineup was your worst nightmare come to life. Carl checked up on you throughout, knowing how you could get in those kinds of situations. He reassured you no matter how many times a savior told him to shut his trap. He didn’t care. Not about them. But he cared about you.

Thankfully Carl was able to help your through your nerves, and he did that successfully quite often. He was especially helpful when Negan and the Saviors had arrived to Alexandria’s gates.

One particular afternoon Negan had arrived with his men was a particularly hard day for you. You weren’t expecting them, they had come early.

Usually the saviors never interacted with you but today…was different. Carl had found a Walkman for you so that whenever you got anxious you could just listen to music and hold his hand and you’d feel okay. Once the message that the Saviors had arrived relayed back to the two of you, Carl told you to listen to music and stick by his side.

Your thoughts immediately turned to the worst. What if they did something to you, what if they took you. What if they too Carl? You wouldn’t be able to handle that. You can barely last a couple hours without him, you wouldn’t be okay if they did something to him or took him back to the sanctuary.

So you did. Carl took your hand and wandered through Alexandria with you, ensuring everyone was safe as the Saviors raided the place. You noticed something across the street. Negan was harassing a woman that had lived there since the beginning. They were practically ripping apart the inside of her house as she waited outside.

“Look, lady, with all due respect, I really don’t think this television is this goddamn important.” Negan says, mocking the woman who was sobbing at the fact her home was being destroyed, not about the stupid TV. Your grip on Carl’s hand grew tighter and you couldn’t help but retreat behind him a little. Negan laughed at the woman and looked around to see if anyone was watching and unfortunately he caught a glimpse of the two of you.

You both tried continuing down the path before he called out.

“Woahhh where you both off to in a hurry?” His tone is sardonic and you both stop in your tracks. Carl looks at you and slides the headphones off your ears to rest them at the back of your neck. “Let me handle it. It’ll be okay.” He reassures, knowing this would be harsh on you. He pulls you in to place a kiss at the top of your head which was unusual for him. He was never affectionate in public, let alone in front of Negan and the Saviors. He was trying to make you feel better.

He turns to Negan and clutches your hand before slowly making his way across the street to the woman’s house where he remained, the woman now sitting on the steps of her house unable to cry anymore.

“What do we have here? The pirate and his partner?” He giggles and you hold Carl’s arm, standing somewhat behind him, avoiding Negan’s gaze. Carl just looks at him silently, not stirring anything up with him to ensure your safety. Negan looks at the two of you, trying to figure out some way to break you. He reaches around Carl and grabs your arm, pulling you beside him rather than behind him. Carl does nothing but glare at Negan.

“This one’s a little shy, huh?” Carl tilts his head and Negan grins at this, wagging his finger in Carls face. “Watch that eye. You know what happened to your dad the last time he looked at me like that if you-” Carl cuts him off. “What do you want?” He snaps. “Hold on now, no need to get snippy at me, young man.” Negan says comedically. “I just wanna see what music is on the tapes.” He gestures to the Walkman attached to your jeans.

“It’s not yours.” Carl blurted, realizing he’d definitely get a reaction from the way he worded his statement. “Oh Carl, you see, it is mine actually. Because everything here, all the shit that’s yours, is mine. Remember? I’m sure you do.” He turns to you. “And I know you do too, you were there for that lesson if I recall correctly.” Negan remarked, rubbing the worst night of your life in your face. “God damn, were you crying like hell. I’m surprised that many tears could come out of a person like that.” He laughs, you feel tears begin welling in your eyes.

Carl notices and feels helpless for a moment, unsure of what to do. He looks to Negan and sighs. “Please. Just…don’t take it.” He says, almost a whisper. Negan looks at him and steps back from the both of you. You retreat back behind Carl and Negan smiles. “Since I’m feelin oh-so generous today, I’ll let you keep the damn Walkman. I just wanna know whatcha listenin to.” He says to you, tilting to the side since you’re practically hiding behind Carl at this point.

The tears have left your eyes, now irrelevant as you muster up the courage to talk to him without crying more. “I-Its just Fleetwood Mac.” You answer. He nods with a satisfied look on his face. You grip onto Carl’s arm a tad tighter and his hand slides into yours. “Well that’s a very good choice.” He smiles. “Now why don’t you go find your dad and send him my way. I want him to walk me out like a proper host.” He tells Carl.

Finally.

After the saviors had left that evening you and Carl returned back to the house, or rather what was left of it. They had only really left the couch and the chairs, they took yours and Carl’s bed and most of the other furniture in the house. You sat on the couch with Carl, lying on top of him as you listened to your music. He rubbed your back gently as he rested his head against your ear to hear the music as well. That was his next mission: find earbuds.

He scoots back a little and slides the headphone off your ear. “You feelin better?” He asks softly. You nod. “Yeah I’m okay. Just got a little worried I guess.” You respond as he runs his hand through your hair.

“You don’t have to be. I’m here for you. I promise.”

a/n: i hope this was okayyyy i love writing negan for some reason, he’s so funny. anyway this was funnn so thank u anon i hope you like it :D i also hope you guys like fleetwood mac or this is gonna be really awkward :o

[lilystyles]

gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings. 

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day. 

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office. 

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work. 

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season. 

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose. 

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!” 

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily. 

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food. 

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face. 

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo. 

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think. 

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh. 

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets. 

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat. 

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm. 

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more. 

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth. 

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently. 

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in. 

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye. 

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh. 

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be? 

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out. 

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes. 

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t. 

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate. 

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.” 

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on. 

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called. 

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her. 

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face. 

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him. 

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head. 

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off. 

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend. 

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall. 

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop. 

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off. 

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car. 

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled. 

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

[littleboyblue1]

I Do

Had the idea of Jake being the greatest guy ever. Decided to write that out, kind of. Anyways.

warnings: p in v, oral (f receiving), talks of marriage, no y/n, but 'Mrs. Lockley' is said, nothing else I can think of

Jake Lockley was a lot different than most guys you'd dated. He was, as your friends often said, 'husband material'. He certainly would've been if it weren't for the frequent days of no contact, and the fact that he was very secretive. But then he explained it, and he was perfect again. Suddenly, it was nonstop texting, and not a single secret.

Marc and Steven were amazing, but there was always something more with Jake. You liked him most. He was your first of the three after all. And, even though you'd never say it out loud, he provided a much more normal life than the others. He liked domesticity, and it made it feel like a marriage between you two, and just dating Marc and Steven. Which was just fine, it didn't change anything.

But because of that difference, Jake was the guy your friends, coworkers, and family knew. You told your family after a while, but it was still mostly Jake they saw. The others, well, you'd explain it if you had to.

Jake also thoroughly enjoys being your 'arm candy'. Your boss had called him that when they'd first met at a dinner, and Jake would not let it go. No matter how much you and the others teased him, he liked it. So much so that he would beg the other guys to let him be the one that goes to your work events. They always said yes.

Tonight, he seemed extra eager. He showered and dressed, then you'd told him he was three hours early. "That's okay. I'll just watch you get ready then," he'd replied. You wondered if he'd done it on purpose.

He isn't a 'take showers together' guy, but he does enjoy sitting on the counter talking to you. Not every time you shower, just when he feels particularly talkative. So, he sat on the counter, talking about his day.

"I don't mind it really. I just hate working with people," he explained. He'd often go to work for Steven, purely because he preferred to front for long periods of time these days.

You laughed. "You could always just let Steven go in, baby." Jake huffed loudly. "I know. But it would relieve the stress."

He handed you your towel as you stepped out. His head rested agains the mirror. "Yeah. But no." You laughed again. "Want your hair thing?" You nodded, and he dug around for your hair towel while continuing. "Sometimes I think we should just tell them. Maybe they'd let us skip, and I could do something I like."

"I don't think - thanks - think it's a bad idea. It might make things easier on all of you."

He followed you into your room. You talked the idea over while you finished getting ready. When you finished, he went to the closet and picked out shoes for you, then delicately put them on. You wondered if he even realized he did stuff like that. It was like second nature to him.

Jake left for a second to get drinks, and your friend Alexa leaned in. "Seriously, where did you buy that man!? she asked. You laughed.

"Got lucky."

"You may be the luckiest woman on Earth."

"Tell me about it." You turned to see him. He was chatting some guy up at the bar. Even from a distance, he was hot. He saw you and waved. You returned the favor, then turned back to Alexa. "I worry I'll wake up, and he'll just be a dream."

She sighed dreamily. "If he is, mind telling me your night routine?" The two of you laughed until Jake got back.

He placed the drinks down for all three of you, then held a hand out. "Come on," he nodded towards the dance floor, "This is our song." You couldn't help but giggle as you stood. It certainly wasn't 'your' song, but it was a nice song, and Jake liked dancing.

He was a good dancer too. You could stand there stiff as a board, and he'd wheel you around perfectly. No one would even notice if he was the only one dancing. But you'd learned for him anyways, and the two of you were a well-oiled dancing machine.

"You've got a very nice dress, miss," he whispered in your ear. As he leaned back up, you caught him staring straight down the front.

"Charming as always."

He cracked a smile at you. "Can't help it. I see a pretty lady, I have to look."

"Is that so?" You weren't upset, but you tried to force your voice to sound like you were.

He nodded. "Just seems like there's a lot less pretty women these days. About 4 years ago, there was only one pretty woman left on earth. Confused the hell out of me." He was smiling a big, cheesy smile. You couldn't help but laugh at him.

"You're a dork."

When the song ended, he led you back to the table. He casually draped an arm over your shoulders. You were warm, but you didn't mind.

The rest of the night went by quickly with dances, drinks, and boring work conversations. When you got home, you were both a little tipsy, and Jake was spinning and dipping you all the way back to the flat.

Your old neighbor smiled and waved at the two of you. You giggled and waved back. "You've got a very pretty wife," she said to Jake. You waved her off, smiling wide.

Jake smiled even wider. "Yes, I do." You liked the title 'wife', even if he was only agreeing because it was easier to just agree.

Jake let you in, spinning you onto the couch. He dropped his jacket on the floor, then fell to his knees at your feet. As he undid your shoes, he placed kisses all over your calves. He was mostly kissing - you could feel his fingers fumbling with the straps.

When he finally got them off, you pulled him to you by his cheeks. "You looked so handsome tonight, baby," you whispered. His cheeks got a little pinker.

"So did you."

You giggled, pulling him in for a kiss. When he pulled away, he stroked a thumb on your bottom lip. "My wife. Could you imagine?" He stared into your eyes with an intensity that could melt you.

A smile tugged at your lips. "Mrs. Lockley. How's-"

He cut you off. "Fuck, say that again."

"Mrs. Lockley." You could've sworn his eyes became just pupil. He pulled you in hard enough your teeth knocked together lightly. It would've been off putting if it weren't for the fact that he was leaning back down to sit on his feet.

He pulled away breathless. "Take it off." You obeyed, discarding the dress quickly. You hadn't worn anything special, just the underwear on the top of the pile and a clean bra, but he sighed anyway. "God, how did I ever get so lucky?"

Jake took your undergarments off, tossing them somewhere behind you. He dropped his head against your breasts, kissing the tops before moving down to your nipples. He worshiped them for a moment, then started moving down again.

He left a trail of kisses down until he was where you needed him. "One more time, baby. Say it again."

"Mrs. Lockley?" You assumed that's what he wanted to hear.

You must've been right, because he pulled your legs so he could be in a better position, then began nearly devouring you. The moans that escaped you were beyond pornographic. You dropped a hand to his curls, changing between pushing him into yourself more and pulling his hair.

Each tug pulled a groan from him, sending vibrations through you. Suddenly, he lifted his head and started using his fingers. You had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

His stubble glistened, and he truly had very little brown left in his eyes. "I like that name, baby. Mrs. Lockley."

"You don't say?" He did something that made you gasp loudly. "Fuck, Jake, that feels so good." He dropped his head back down and used his tongue and fingers to bring you to your climax.

He licked and kissed until you had to push him off to escape the overstimulation. He moved slowly back up you, dropping a wet kiss on your lips. "Come on." He lifted you, bringing you to your bed.

Jake undressed himself quickly. You gave him a look over. His chest was beautiful, sculpted by the gods themselves - almost literally. His abs were toned in a way that could drive a woman feral. The happy trail they'd been growing was enough to make you get off the bed and fall to your knees.

"No, baby. Just want you." He looked down with pleading eyes. How could you be so cruel as to deny him? You got back on the bed, and he pushed you to lie down. "I love you."

"I lo- holy fuck." You moaned out as he pushed into you. He gave no time for adjustments, beginning his pace immediately. Not fast, but not slow either. "I love you too, baby."

You brushed a curl from his face, then pulled him down for a kiss. He sped up, and you arched up into him. Jake groaned into the kiss, then dropped his head down to the crook of your neck.

As he continued speeding up, you held onto his back for dear life. He didn't like when you scratched him, so you had to settle for squeezing his muscles for support. He moved down to kiss your chest. His lips wrapping around your nipple made another loud moan leave you.

"You can scratch, it's okay," he muttered out. It was a sweet gesture, but you knew he didn't like it.

You dropped a hand into his hair, tugging at the strands instead. You began moaning together, and as his thrusts became quicker, you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "What'd you say? Wanna be Mrs. Lockley?" he asked suddenly, pulling away from your tits to smile down at you.

"Yeah, I'll be Mrs. Lockley."

The look on his face was enough to bring you to your climax. He came at the same time, and you rode out your highs together. After a few slow movements, he laid you on top of him, still inside of you. A soft smile brightened his features. "Really mean it?"

"I do."

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 18: Somnophilia with Robin Buckley

Pairing: Robin X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1088 Warnings: Somnophilia (Sex while a one party is asleep), Oral sex, Vaginal Fingering, Very little dialogue/mostly internal monologue, Pet names (Reader calls Robin Birdie and Robin calls Reader Baby).

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

God she's beautiful.

All soft lines and sweet smiles that turn goofy when she says something silly. Rambling fast when she's excited or nervous, but always happy to listen.

Robin has a special kind of beauty when she's asleep, none of the stress or anxiety that plagues her waking hours is present.

Her lovely face is fully relaxed, soft lips parted as tiny quiet snores drift out on every other breath. The early Summer sun streaming in from the window making her glow and the way the sheets bunch around her look almost like angel wings.

Gorgeous in every way.

The only thing that makes the view of your Birdie sleeping more perfect, is when you can tell she's having dirty dreams.

Her snores are punctuated by mumbles, usually unintelligible, but sometimes it's a little moan or hum.

Her body also gives it away with the way her thighs will press together then fall apart only to close again a moment later, like her sleeping brain can't decide if it wants to chase its pleasure on her own or not.

Then there's the way she flushes, a splash of pretty pink blooming from her ears to her cheeks and down to her chest in little splotches.

You could stare at her all morning. Laid next to her, warm and dozing, content to stay right there till those pretty blues open to smile sleepily at you and ask if there's coffee.

There is, you got up just long enough to start the pot.

You watch as she shifts, a quiet hum slipping from between her lips, and a thought struck you.

It would be a rather nice way to wake up, you think, to have your girlfriend between your legs, alleviating the ache your dreams gave you...

You two hadn't talked about it directly, but she had flushed bright red and said she wasn't against the idea of you touching her while she slept once when you both were smoking with Eddie, he'd make some kind of sex joke, and she'd waited till he was in the other room getting a new lighter to say her piece.

And coming from Robin, who always danced around topics like this, that was her way of saying that she wanted to do it but didn't want you to feel pressured to.

Little does she know that you think it's one of the hottest things ever.

Drawing your lower lip between your teeth in thought you crept closer to her slumbering form, warm and pliant and waiting.

Her sleep shirt, an old white tank top that she'd stolen from you, drapes loosely over her body, the neck so low that the soft skin of her sternum, and the space between her breasts, was visible.

Her nipples hardened under the fabric from her dreams and the slight chill still hanging in the air from Spring, how she could possibly sleep without the covers pulled to her chin you never understood.

With a delicate slowness you lifted your hand and traced a fingertip from where the neck of the shirt laid up between her breasts before curving to ever so lightly circle around one nipple over the fabric, teasing the sensitive flesh and watching her face to see if she would wake.

When she didn't, you cupped the soft mound, gently massaging and lightly swiping your thumb over the tip of the little bud.

This earned you a pleased hum and her thighs squeezing together once more.

Even in her sleep your Birdie is so responsive.

Deciding that she was well and truly not going to wake up so easily, you shifted to the space between her soft thighs once they'd fallen open once more.

As if by muscle memory her legs settled around you, like your presence was a foregone conclusion rather than any kind of intrusion.

Your eyes watched her face as you pressed the pad of your thumb to her clit, covered only by the white cotton of her panties, a little pink bow adorning the front.

Her head jerked to face the other direction as her breath sped up and you froze, waiting to see her eyes open and regard you, but they remained closed and she settled once more, so you continued.

You made little circles and watched as her body, already turned on from whatever vision her mind had conjured, become even more aroused as a wet patch began to form on her panties.

By that point her hips were unconsciously wiggling and pressing back into your touch, so you moved the fabric to the side and continued without the barrier, earning an even more desperate sound from her lips.

Growing impatient you leaned down and ran your tongue between her wet pussy lips.

It was like ambrosia, and you had to resist the moan that tried to form in your throat as you ran the tip of your tongue in swirls on the sensitive bud.

Her hips bucked and with your free hand you held them down, careful not to do so hard enough to wake her.

Her sleepy sounds were so pretty, like the soft sounds of early morning birds singing, only a lot less innocent.

The way her body reacted to your touch was as much a turn on as anything else she could do, which was to say, you were drenched and probably ruining your own panties, but that was a thought for later.

Right now, you're slipping a single finger into her waiting cunt and lightly sucking at her clit while you curl your finger.

Her body shook lightly as you rubbed up against that sweet spot, pushing her resting body closer and closer to that inevitable peak.

It was when she was on the very precipice that her eyes finally opened and looked down at you, lips wrapped around her clit while you bullied her G-spot, now with two fingers as trying not to wake her was no longer a concern.

"Baby...? What...?" She started but was cut off by a drowsy moan as her head fell back against the pillow, one hand coming up to hover over her mouth while the other threaded into your hair, tugging you closer.

Doubling your efforts you drove her to her end, marveling as her loose body shook and clenched with wave after wave of pleasure.

You continued to finger her slowly as she came down, and stopped once she'd settled, sitting up with a grin like the Cheshire cat.

"Good morning, Birdie. I made coffee."

[iluvaobesegaki4694]

FF7 Turks in a relationship

Don't ask me why I decided to write this, I was just feeling really lonely and was like what would my bots be like as a bf?

Rufus

at best I don't think he would be a good bf. why? I feel like before his father passing he more or less acted really entitled and manipulative, he probably has had a few pass relationships (his first one being the worst one and kind of making him the way he is) that messed up either because he was too pushy or just... no that's just it. I feel like though he has more negatives he definitely has a loving side, he would always buy you the most expensive gifts, and occasional dates; though you probably wont see him often since he's the boss of shinra.

Tseng

Tseng is a die heart lover boy!!! he loves spending time with you, though he doesn't show it outside. I believe he often keeps to the stern and well spoken personality, when outside but at home he's all over you, hugs are his favourite. He's mostly like this because he for the most part doesn't get time to spend with you due to always being on a mission or being at work. Though when he's around you he makes sure you have the most nutritious food, and get good exercise. When Tesng is home, I feel like he would make different types of teas for you depending on what you need, for example when you need help with your insomnia, he makes you camomile tea, and gives you a nice back massage.

Rude

he's supportive. makes sure to bring you up every day, trust me the only times you don't get a message from him in the morning, is when he's in a different time zone, and doesn't want to wake you up with his messages. At the beginning he was really hesitant to make any moves on you but grew more comfortable as time went on, I know for a fact that he loves to show you off and make sure to make you food when he is at home. For reference, he loves making spicy food, and anytime your ill, he asks Tseng for some advice on what teas you should drink to help make you feel better.

Reno

HE IS SO HAPPY! he loves you so much, be ready for many phone calls and him talking you none stop, about anything and everything, I feel like most of your calls would be silent, since he doesn't have much to talk about (since he just called you an hour ago) but he defo loves to have your presence around him. When he is home, he loves to give you deep hugs, and back massages, mostly cause of your perfume; must i add that he sprays your perfume on his jumper when he hasn't seen you for a while? When it comes to food, I don't think he likes to cook, hell when he was training to become a Turk he defo spent most of his time eating ramen noodles, and the leftovers of what rude makes. So he's so happy when you cook, or even when you two get take always, be ready for snuggles and a couple of love kisses since he loves to do movie nights at home.

Cissnei

She's a reader... why is this relevant? because you and her going on library dates, and book shopping galore. She loves to write you little poems about you or read out poems about her day, though for the most part she won't share them with anyone else; but you. in terms of work, she keeps relatively active and doesn't go on many extensions, so most of her time is spent at the office working, if she gets off early, she will meet you at your office with a cupcake, or cookie for you to eat. she likes hugs, but prefers to kiss and hold you, but the way she most shows her affection is by doing you hair, since she loves to take care of her own hair skin; so be ready for a lot of hair masks, and face masks.

OKAY BONUS

Elena

Personally, I feel as if Elena would be super shy, and closed off in a relationship, even though she is amazing I feel like she has a lot of stress due to being, mind you, ONLY 18! so i feel like homegirl defo needs her positive affirmation, when it comes to the relationship. She isn't much of a cooker, so when it comes house shores she would do the cleaning/washing meanwhile you would cook, or she would get a take away. She spends most of her time working, since she tries really hard to prover herself, and doesn't want to be overlooked due to her age and gender, so a lot of the time you would find her passed out on her laptop in YOUR hoodie. when on a mission she often tries to text you to make sure your up, and have an explanation on what she's doing as well as what your plans are for the rest of the day (bonus she has a cat that you look after when she is away). Finally, she doesn't often go on dates with you, but when she does she spends SOOOOO much money, why? because she wants to go to the fun fair, especially winter wonderland, which is her favourite! she loves the warm coco, the smell of cinnamon and most importantly looking into your eyes, if you two ever got married, she would definitely propose to you here.

BONUS: she listens to Airplane mode when she's thinking of you.

[vamossainz55]

carlos sainz x reader and “aw, did you miss me?”

maybe, just maybe - carlos sainz jr

summary: over the phone confessions after a night out. a/n: a request from my drabble party i opened ages ago (sorry for it being so late). i hope you enjoy anon and thank you for requesting! (+ kind of hate it so don't be surprised if it randomly dissapears one day lmao)

Carlos wakes up to the beat of Sexy Bitch ripping him out of his dreams. He lets out a low grumble as he awakens, shifting from one side of the bed to the other before reaching out to his side table. 

He feels around the table, groaning into the pillow as he struggles to get ahold of the phone. The music only gets louder, and he wonders why on earth had he let you persuade you in picking your own ringtone.

Soon enough his fingers graze over the vibrating phone, prompting him to turn over to his back. He takes this moment to look at the time, squinting when the light shines a bit too bright. 

He blinks to adjust his vision, looking over the glaring numbers on his phone. The numbers are mocking him. 5:55. He knows he needs to be up in less than three hours but he slides the green button to the right, pressing his phone to his ear. 

He’s greeted to the sound of a soft breath, followed by a Oh. 

“You called?” Carlos asks, rubbing his eyes quietly as he tries to wake himself up still. He can hear some stumbling from the line, soft music playing in the background of the call. 

“I thought you were asleep,” There’s a soft slur to your words as you speak and Carlos can’t help but smile in amusement. 

“Are you drunk y/n?” The beat of silence is enough of an answer, but if he had any doubts about it you confirm them anyways. 

“Maybe…” Carlos shakes his head, chuckling softly. “I’m sorry for calling- I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“Of course I picked up.” Carlos answers before thinking, and he could blame it on his sleepy state for wearing his heart on his sleeve like that, but it’s not like you both don’t know. You had danced between the thin line of the will they / don’t they debacle for months now.

It had started as something casual- an easy way to release stress whenever any of the two of you needed it, but over the last few weeks you both knew the dynamic had started to shift. Carlos tried to bring it up- but you had always been the first to shut it down. 

That is exactly why he’s surprised that he’s on the receiving end of a call when you’re both thousands of kilometers away from each other. 

“Why’d you call? Are you safe?” He asks, sitting against the bed frame as he puts his phone on speaker.

“Yeah. I got home from the club, a guy tried flirting with me.” Carlos’ jaw clenches a little at the mention of another guy, but he can’t say anything, not when you two aren’t even a thing, far from exclusive. 

He is surprised by what you say next though. 

“I realised I didn’t want him.” 

It’s Carlos’ turn this time, simply answering with an “Oh?” before his pride rolls in. “And who did you want then?” 

“You know who.” He feels a stir in his stomach, it’s not the first time you both had to make things work when apart. He considers it. For a second. Before remembering the time and his early training session. 

“It’s six in the morning y/n, I’m not sure if I can do that now.” 

He’s only met with more silence, and he wonders whether this is the end of it and you would just apologize and wish him goodnight. Instead though, the next thing he hears from you isn’t a farewell. 

“I- it’s not that actually.” He almost feels embarrassed when you say that, feeling a heat forming in his cheeks but you continue before he can apologize. 

“I uhm- wanted to hear your voice.” There’s a hint of shyness in your tone that has a small smile forming on Carlos’ lips. It’s enough to have him picture you with flushed cheeks, hands covering your face. His silence prompts you to continue. “It’s just- we haven’t seen each other in weeks now and-“ and Carlos just has to interrupt. 

“Aw. Are you saying you miss me?” He waits for your answer, nodding his head when he receives it. 

“Maybe…” He smiles, allows himself to savor the satisfaction he gets from hearing you admit it. 

“How about I call you tomorrow?” He offers, pulling the sheets as he lays back down. He stares at the ceiling for a second, taking a deep breath. 

“Could you?” Carlos nods even if you can’t see him, murmuring a mhm. He makes sure you promise to have water next to you and a paracetamol for when you wake up.

Once you grab everything and you’re in bed as well you both say goodnight to each other, and his thumb hovers over the red end button. 

Before he hangs up, he makes sure to get the last word in though.  

“By the way, I miss you too.” 

[skzcollision]

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (7/7)

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genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Did I ruin you?”

Felix blinks down at you through his lashes, eyes still puffy from sleep. A long beat of silence ensues as he tries to comprehend what you just asked him.

“Ha?” He scrunches up his nose in a way you find comical.

You laugh, then shake your head, turning your face back down. “Nothing. Just– thinking out loud.”

Finally succumbing to the soreness behind your lids, you let them slide back shut.

Your rest is cut short when you feel the sheets rustling and the pillow shifting beneath your head. Felix is too intrigued now to go back to sleep.

“No, talk to me.” He raises himself on his elbow.

You open your eyes, but don’t necessarily meet his. They bounce around, tracing the lines of his cupid’s bow, then his jaw. You rack your brain for a reason as to why you had even asked that in the first place.

It seemed to have slipped out on its own accord, with your thoughts running a mile a minute as you watched your lover rise to consciousness that early morning.

Maybe that question has always been at the back of your mind.

“Like, if we hadn’t met… you’d probably still be going to church, still be living with your parents.” You lock your eyes onto his, lips pulling into a tiny smile. “You’d still be a virgin.”

Air shoots out of his nose and his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “Okay, well you know I was going to move here to the city anyway. School’s in like a week, so what difference does a few more make– and technically, we are both still virgins.” He squints his eyes. “Half virgins.”

“Mm,” you relax beneath his touch as his fingers find your hair. “You get what I’m saying though?”

He shakes his head slowly, his words coming out the same. “Not really.”

You sigh, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard. “Well you don’t really see anyone else anymore– we’re pretty much spending every waking hour together. Have been for like the past few months. And now, every sleeping hour too I guess. I drag you out here to the city, stressing you out with my family problems–“

“Woah, woah…” Felix grasps your hands in his, moving to sit up. He lowers his head to meet your eyes. “What, you think you roped me into this or something?”

“Something like that,” you nod, breathing out unhurriedly. “I doubt this is how you wanted to spend your last few weeks before school starts again.”

“Listen,” he pulls you into his arms, gently prodding your head to lay against his chest.

“I’m here with you, because I want to be. It is not because I feel sorry, or obligated. I spend every moment with you only because I want to. Even when things are tough, even when you get all snappy and bratty with me, I’m still going to want to be here. You understand?”

He lifts your chin, the purest form of sincerity in his eyes when he says, “this is fully my choice.”

You hold his gaze and nod in understanding, almost mesmerized by his words and the look on his face.

A shaky sigh slips past your lips as you muster up a response. “You think I’m bratty?”

His chest reverberates with deep laughter, the sound rolling through your ear. “Yes,” he smiles down at you in admiration. “You are… many things.”

You narrow your eyes, eventually pulling your gaze away when you feel like his is too much to handle. “I don’t know if I should feel insulted or not.”

Truly, you’re more ashamed than anything. You’ve had such a short temper lately, and he has been more than patient with you.

He chuckles, planting a lingering kiss on your hairline. “Feel like going out today?”

A gentle breeze rolls over you, ruffling your hair as you walk alongside the salty sea. The sunset paints the pale blue sky with a pinkish orange hue, warm sand sifting around your bare feet with each step.

Wanting to make the most of the remaining days of your summer, you and Felix spend all day doing touristy things around the city—something you never got the chance of doing despite living nearby all your life.

You have only been here a handful of times and even then, rarely got to do any proper sightseeing. Your parents believed that such activities were a waste of time, and only brought you to the city whenever you needed some new clothes or if you had an important appointment.

A leisure stroll at the beach is just what you need after a long day in the bustling city.

The deep timbre of Felix’s voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk about things for a while now.”

You glance to your side where the golden light hits his profile, highlighting the freckles across his pink-dusted cheeks.

“I’m glad you shared that with me this morning,” he says with a smile.

Your eyes drop to the shimmering sand. “Yeah, sorry. I’m not that good at communicating.”

“I know,” he says. “But is it okay if we keep talking like this?”

You nod, but not without the hesitation showing on your face.

“So what else has been on your mind?”

“Felix… I didn’t mean now.”

“Come on, healing time.” He skips in front of you, holding your sides. “Please? I don’t want you to keep these feelings to yourself. I can feel it stressing you out.”

You draw out a long sigh and meet his eyes, gentle but pleading. “Can we go sit in your car then?”

The walk back is a relatively long and quiet one, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you spill everything that has been weighing on you lately.

A heavy silence settles upon you as you sit side by side, watching the sun kiss the horizon. He doesn’t speak, and only reaches over the console, threading his fingers through yours.

“I guess– I thought all of my problems would be solved if I just got away from my parents, but somehow things are… worse. I just feel more lost than ever, I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know who the hell I am.”

He nods profusely, thumb sliding over the back of your hand. “Yeah, I don’t think people get to know who they are ‘til they’re like in their 40’s, maybe even later. Maybe even never– I mean, that’s not to say you never will.” Felix offers a smile. “Do you think I know what I’m doing?”

To that, you only shrug.

“No one has their life figured out at this age– and even if you make plans, nothing is guaranteed... it’s better to just enjoy and cherish every moment while you still can. Life will work itself out.”

You both fall silent once again as you let his words sink in.

It feels as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, not all at once of course, but at the very least everything that needed to be said has been said.

You have been holding back due to fear—not of being judged by him, but burdening him with your worries. Although you’re beginning to realize that your relationship has taken a hit from your reticence, and you’re grateful for the gentle push Felix has given you to express your feelings.

His hand nudges against yours. “Did I make you feel better?”

Your face eases into a smile. “Yeah, those were some pretty wise words, Lix. I’m impressed.”

He then reaches over, a wide smile of relief on his face as both hands cup your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“For what,” you laugh at the unexpected proximity.

“For trusting me enough to tell me these things.”

You shake your head, lifting one hand to run your fingers through the strands of hair that stick to his temple.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you… I just don’t like dragging you down. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad either,” he says in between kisses to your wrist.

You lean over to bring your lips to his, a soft but urgent kiss. He envelops you in his arms and you melt further into him.

Felix pulls away for a brief moment. “Hey, don’t hide from me anymore, okay?” He murmurs, breath hot against your wet mouth. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, gripping the back of his neck to connect your mouths again.

What started as an innocent kiss escalates into a whole ‘nother thing, quicker than any of you expected. Even with him pressed up against you like this, you somehow don’t feel close enough.

Much to your disappointment, he withdraws himself from you before things can advance any further.

You whine, burying your face in his neck. He laughs, breathing hard and stroking the back of your head.

“Let’s go home first.”

“No…” You protest. Your lips land on his skin, sucking lightly. “Need you now.”

There are no other cars around and his windows are tinted. No one would see you, unless they were intentionally peering inside.

He caves. You practically throw yourself into the back, Felix in tow.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

You move together in the cramped space, a feverish heat building between your bodies as you grope each other in the most unseemly places.

Your fingers trail up underneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his stomach before pulling away to admire the exposed strip of skin.

A particular memory resurfaces at the sight.

The day your father had him baptized in a lake, both of you just shy of sixteen; the drenched white fabric of his shirt sticking to his body and revealing his shredded abs. That had been the time your infatuation for him began.

And now here it is in front of you again, in an entirely different context.

Felix emits a faint laugh at your gawking then quickly shoves his shirt over his head, cocking a brow at you as if to say better?

Smothering his chest with open-mouthed kisses, your hands slowly make their descent to the button of his pants.

More clothes come off, hands shaking and moving eagerly with excitement. You have already been intimate in more ways than one, yet this is the first time you are in front of each other baring it all—stark naked in the backseat of his car.

Still, you find him so beautiful, better than anything your mind could ever conjure up. With that dark look in his eyes as they roam desirously over your body, you know he feels the same way about you.

A chorus of moans rumble against your mouth as you deftly reach a hand between you to wrap your fingers around his leaking shaft.

He rests his head against the window, practically crumbling beneath your touch. You don’t take your eyes off each other this time when your mouth slides over his cock.

“Baby…” He gently pushes on your shoulders as your tongue drags along the underside. “Baby, please…” He speaks sluggishly, his tone hushed and raspy. “I’m not going to last.”

“Why,” you lift a brow, pulling your mouth away but not ceasing the movements of your hand. “Are you saving it?”

His eyes widen in fear that he had misread the situation. “I kind of assumed that we would– I mean, o- only if you want to,” he stammers.

“M’just teasing you.” You smile, wrapping your arms around him as you sit upright. “Of course I want to.” You pepper kisses along his jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do it for so long.”

To your surprise, he suddenly drops to the floor of his car, and with a light prod of his hand, you let your thighs fall open. He guides your legs over his shoulders, his mouth so close to where you want him.

Finally, his tongue laps over your clit—and you’re giggling without even realizing it, feeling giddy and almost drunk with delight.

“What?” He raises his head, smiling lightheartedly.

“Nothing, I just...” You caress his cheek, gazing upon him with affection. “Baby has always sounded so corny to me, but I like it when you call me that.”

“Mm,” he hums before lowering his mouth back onto your cunt. “Feel good, baby?” His dark eyes glitter with amusement as his face disappears between your thighs.

You can only moan in response, fingers flying to his blond locks, writhing desperately.

Eventually his fingers join his lips, slipping into you with ease. He goes down on you tenderly, the same way he would kiss you on the mouth. Less impatience than last time, and taking his sweet time working you up.

Soon enough, you unravel on his tongue, clutching a handful of his hair tightly in your fist. Felix groans low against your cunt, licking you up, rutting against the leather seat.

“Need you inside, please…”

A look of alarm flashes across his face as you drag him over you. You lay yourself down, adjusting as well as you can with the cup holder poking uncomfortably at your back.

“Shit, I just realized– I didn’t bring anything.”

“I’ll take a pill in the morning,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Felix…”

He can’t bring himself to refuse you now; your lashes wet with tears from your previous orgasm, lips pink and swollen from kissing as you wiggle beneath him, begging for him to take you.

A quiet growl rips from him as he ravishes your mouth with an impassioned kiss, his cock gliding across your slick cunt. You moan at the familiar sensation, brought back to the last time you were both tangled up like this—doing it in a place you weren’t supposed to, just like you are now.

Pain blooms when he finally enters you.

It’s a tight fit, you’re afraid he won’t be able to go much further.

“Mmph,” he groans into your mouth, arms shaking with effort. He separates from you momentarily, concern evident on his face. “Relax for me baby, can you do that?”

You nod, trying your hardest to loosen up for him. Anything he can do to alleviate the pain, he does. His hands don’t stop touching you, softly caressing every part of your body he can reach. His mouth is everywhere, scattering kisses along your face, your neck, your collarbones.

It takes a few moments, but with his gentle touch and words of praises, telling you how you’re doing so well for him, your pain ebbs away.

Felix’s movements are a little clunky at first, but he gradually finds his rhythm, responding to your cues, and going with whatever feels right.

You begin moving as one, your bodies molding to the shape of each other, driven to give and receive pleasure.

“You’re so warm…” He whispers in between a kiss to your forehead.

“Does it feel good?” You blink innocently up at him, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He drops his head and laughs softly against your neck, bringing a sly smirk to your face.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasms to approach.

His body drapes over you, enveloping you with his affection and warmth. Hips rocking together, minds hazy from pleasure—until all you see, taste, and feel is each other.

Time seems to stand still in this moment, and god, you truly would love to be stuck here forever.

“I love you,” he sobs against your neck. “I love you so much.”

You repeat his words, and with your hands clasped next to your head, you finish together.

You have yet to figure out your place in this world; but right now, here with Felix, is where you have felt the most at home.

⭒

author's note: sorry it took me a while to get this out! i was struggling for a bit with writer’s block. thank u all so so so much for responding very kindly and interacting with my posts. it has been rly encouraging. idk if i’ll do another series in the near future but i definitely plan on writing more so if u want to be added to my permanent taglist just let me know!

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| taglist: @moasworld @acidgh0st @vixensss @yeetfellx @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @letrasalvientoblog @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @tfshouldidohere @sxurgrapes @babrieeee @fawnpeaks @skzswife |

[amethystina]

A health update (and a general explanation of my long Covid)

So while I've been pretty open about living with long Covid, I realise I've never taken the time to explain what that actually means for me and my quality of living. It's a phrase I toss around but I can imagine it doesn't feel all that substantial to a lot of you.

So I figured that now that I'm feeling a bit better (more on that later) I should do so. Partly because I figure it will make it easier to understand why I sometimes have to disappear for weeks on end.

So, if you're interested, feel free to keep reading under the cut :)

But be warned: It's long and kind of whiny. But also ends on a high note! So there's that.

The first time I caught Covid was around Easter 2020, long before there were any vaccines, which meant that I was hit hard. But no matter how bad I felt during the illness itself, the aftermath has been ten times worse. I've been living with my long Covid symptoms ever since, so for four years now. They worsened for a couple of months when I caught Covid a second time in February 2021, but have otherwise held pretty steady during those four years.

A lot of people experience different symptoms with their long Covid and, sometimes, they'll change as the weeks and months go by. I actually had a very interesting couple of months during 2022 when my sense of smell just went completely whack and everything suddenly smelled differently than it should. Like, I could be smelling an apple but it did not smell like an apple. It was a weird time in my life.

Anyway. My most common symptoms are fatigue, fevers, joint pain, brain fog, memory issues, incoherent speech, and lowered blood circulation.

(The latter actually kickstarted the Raynaud's syndrome I have on my mother's side so now I struggle with fingers and feet that will occasionally go white, bloodless, and completely numb at random intervals. Fun times)

The fatigue and fevers are the worst by far. For the past four years, I have had exhaustion fevers between two to five times a week. Or every single day if I'm unlucky. It's very much tied to how much sleep I'm getting, how well I'm eating, and how many taxing things I do each day. I need eight hours of sleep to be functional and anything less than that will most likely mean I'll end up having a fever before the day is over.

Unfortunately, I've always had issues with my sleep so, on most nights, I don't get eight hours even if I try my absolute best. Sometimes it's because I wake up too early and can't fall back asleep and, sometimes — because my life sucks — it's because my fever is so high that I can't fall asleep. Cue the endless cycle of too little sleep and fevers.

Because one of the main issues with these exhaustion fevers — and what makes them so difficult to manage — is that there's no way to lower them. Medicine has no effect whatsoever. Once I have it, I just have to suffer through however many hours are left until I can sleep and hope that it'll be gone in the morning. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.

And every day my energy level gets just a little bit lower and the fever a little bit higher. Some days, all I can do when I get home from work is to lie on the couch and stare at the wall because I'm too tired and in too much pain to even watch something. And, again, no amount of medicine helps.

It continues on like this for a while and, every third or fourth month or so, the strain eventually becomes too much and I fall ill. My body simply shuts down from the continued stress and exhaustion, to the point where I can barely get out of bed. And, usually, I can feel it coming. On top of the fevers, I start coughing, then get a headache, and then my nose gets stuffy. And, by that time, I know I have about two to four days before I get sick. It's so accurate that my coworkers have learned that when I give the sign, they have to tell me whatever tasks they need to be finished within the near future since I'll probably be out of commission for one to two weeks.

But I eventually recover, go back to work, and so the cycle starts again. And again. And again. And again.

For four years.

All of this has, unsurprisingly, affected my quality of life to a pretty significant degree. I can barely work, let alone spend time doing any of my hobbies. I can't really travel anymore and, if I do, I'll get sick from the exhaustion. Even the 50-minute commute to the office (which I have to do three times a week) usually results in a fever before the day is over.

This inability to travel was how I ended up missing my maternal granddad's funeral. My shitty relatives didn't tell us the date for when he would be buried until there were only two days left and even if I could have put myself on an overnight train to get there, I knew I would be in no shape to actually be at the funeral if I did. So I couldn't go.

I did go to sit with my paternal grandmother as she was dying but, as expected, I got sick and couldn't return to work for a couple of days afterwards.

I also have to skip most birthday celebrations and any events happening on weekdays since I'm usually too feverish or won't manage the required trip to get there. My life has shrunk so much I barely recognise it anymore. I don't recognise myself. I used to be one of those people who could do a million things at the same time and somehow complete all of them. I was firm, organised, and efficient.

And now I'm not.

(... or, well, technically I am — at least compared to many others — but not compared to how I used to be xD)

Point being, a lot of things have changed and I don't like it. But, with that said, I'm also well aware that I'm lucky to be alive and I'm fortunate enough to have a stable job and a roof over my head. So, all things considered, I'm still doing pretty well.

But I also can't lie and say that this hasn't affected me in a deep and fundamental way. My life has changed and, right now, I don't know if it'll ever return to what I used to consider normal. And dealing with that knowledge — and the grief and fear that comes with it — hasn't been easy. I have cried ugly, self-pitying tears over this many, many times. It's frustrating to have no control over what my body does and to constantly have to be careful of what I do so I don't exhaust myself. I am furious that this happened to me.

But, after four years, there's also a certain amount of acceptance. And while I'm annoyed by my new limitations, I try my best not to feel too sorry for myself. Instead, I try to adapt as best I can, even if I might not always do it gracefully.

That does mean that I sometimes push myself more than I should, though. Because, if I didn't, I wouldn't never produce anything. As depressing as it is to admit, everything I've given you in the past four years has been while I was sick. I don't think a single chapter I've written or drawing I've made has been untouched by this. I've become an expert at writing, editing, and drawing even with a fever.

That doesn't mean I regret it, though — quite the opposite. I think that if I hadn't had a reason to write and draw, I would have felt even worse. A lof of the time, the excitement I feel when I'm able to post a chapter or show off a drawing I've made has been the highlight of my week. It's an accomplishment.

But, that said, it's still hard. Writing in particular. It requires a level of brainpower I can't reach when the fevers are too bad. And so, sometimes, I just can't. I literally just can't.

And, back in January, as I was trying to edit chapter 39 of Who Holds the Devil, I honestly pushed myself too hard. I was so determined to finish it that I didn't let myself see just how bad I was feeling — not at all helped by how emotionally draining the content of the chapter was.

It was only once I finished the chapter and posted it that I realised how absolutely wretched I felt. Not because of the chapter itself, but my lack of compassion for myself, I guess? Because the fevers were bad, I was barely sleeping, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted. And, what was worse, I realised that I was displaying depression symptoms I hadn't seen in over ten years.

All of a sudden, I got annoyed as soon as a minor inconvenience appeared. Everything people said to me was dissected into its tiniest component. I feared that people were secretly hating me. I couldn't meet people's eyes anymore when I was talking to them. I didn't realise I was just sitting there, staring at a wall, until several minutes had already passed.

And, as the final nail in the coffin, I stopped talking about how I was feeling.

And that, right there, is my last warning that I need to do something — always has been, ever since I was a teenager. When I clam up completely, refusing to admit to the people around me that I'm feeling bad, that's when I'm about to spiral.

So, the very next day, I went to my boss and told her that I'm getting burnt out and I need to do something NOW or this was going to turn ugly real soon. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and, after a doctor's visit, I was put on partial sick leave. Right now, I'm working six hours a day instead of eight and, let me tell you, I'm thriving.

Or, well, as much as I can while still having long Covid.

I'm almost angry at how much better I feel because, if I had known, I would have done this a lot sooner. I actually have energy now! I've only had a fever about four times in a little over a month! That's insane! It used to be four a week!

So yeah. I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. The downside is that the partial sick leave is still only temporary and there are no guarantees that I'll be able to keep it. Though, if need be, I'll just have to ask my boss to rewrite my contract and change the amount of hours I work because, man, I don't ever want to go back considering how much better and happier I feel. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I feel like I've gotten my life back. It's not quite the same as before, but close enough to it that I kind of want to cry again — but happy tears this time.

And so I've spent the past couple of weeks just... living? When, before that, it felt like I was merely existing. I've been drawing a lot since that helps with the depression symptoms (which are almost completely gone, thank god) but writing has been harder. Possibly because I forced myself to do it during a time when I felt really, really bad and now I'm instinctively trying to shy away from it. But, since I know that's just my mind playing tricks on me, I'm going to give it another try this weekend. I want to write and I miss the stories I'm working on. And, hopefully, since I'm feeling a bit better, I can maybe get back to a more structured uploading schedule. But we'll see. As always, I can't make any promises.

But that's about it, I guess? I'm feeling better and, since I am, I've been doing a lot of things that I wasn't able to before (like taking walks — I take a lot of walks). And I'm still trying to figure out my new routine now that I work less. And while I still get sick sometimes (I am right now, in fact, due to lack of sleep on Tuesday night) I always find my way back eventually.

So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience 💜 I admit that I don't really enjoy writing things like these since it feels like I'm whining — I was very much raised not to take up space or complain when things are difficult (an unfortunate side effect to being the middle child with two disabled, high-maintenance siblings) — but I also prefer honesty and transparency. And I feel a little guilty since there are times when I've given pretty harsh responses when people question why I'm sick all the time or why I don't upload chapters as often as I used to, but without actually explaining why. So I guess it's time to be honest?

And the truth is that I've been constantly sick for the past four years. Not only due to my long Covid, but also the emotional and psychological toll of all the loss, grief, and pain I've been through. These past four years have been rough.

But I'm not saying that to gain pity or make excuses. I actually think I've done pretty well considering just how hindered I've been. I've improved my drawings so much and have written... god knows how many words. I'm honestly kind of scared to check xD But it has to be over 600k by now, maybe closer to 700k.

I think my only regret is that I haven't been able to engage with you all to the extent I would want. I wish I could be a more active and enthusiastic participant in fandom — to seek you out, hold conversations, and give you all even a fraction of the attention you've given me. I feel like I don't offer you nearly enough.

But I also know that I have to accept my own limitations. So, for now, we'll have to settle for whatever I can give, even if it's less than I would want. But I will keep on creating, trust me on that, because I'm stubborn as fuck and even if my pace is slower, I'm still determined to finish what I start.

And that's the note I want to end this on. I have suffered, yes — more so than I may have expressed to you all — but I've still managed to create some beautiful things. And while I mourn who I used to be and the fact that some of you have never known me at my best, I don't think the me I am right now is all that terrible. Do I want things to change? Yes, definitely. But do I want to change the choices I've made and the things I've accomplished in the past four years? No, I can't say that I do. I'm proud of what I've done, especially considering my limitations.

And, if you're reading this, thank you so, so much for your kindness, compassion, and support. Some of you are old friends while others of you are new, but I am grateful to every single one of you. You have made these past four years more bearable. You have made it easier to keep fighting. You have made it worth it.

Thank you 💜

[sillysickfics192]

blanket forts

Aiden was trying to fall asleep. But he couldn’t. He had just returned from the shadow realm for the night. Well not “just”. He had returned almost two hours ago, after seven hours in the other dimension. Ideally, he would come back from the shadow dimension and wake up to the beep of his alarm in the morning, sleeping through the night. However, this night, he woke up almost immediately after returning to his normal body. the whole two bodies thing was still confusing to aiden. He never really understood it, especially since he was not paying attention at all when it was being explained to him by Logan. He tried so hard to go back to sleep, but he was having a hard time. He was flooded with stress from the other dimension. They had to find a way out of this mess. And yet, they hadn’t. 

He lay awake for ten more minutes, before texting their group chat.

“anyone up?”

-

“anyone up?” Logan read, the glow of the screen hurting his eyes in the dark. 

“I am.” He texted back. Logan too could not sleep. even with how much he tried, it wasn’t working.

“come over” Aiden said. No question, just a statement, a demand maybe.  Logan thought about it. He was wearing a sleep shirt and comfy shorts, but he could go out in it. His parents had left him home alone, while they visited his grandparents in canada. Logan wished he could’ve gone, but he worried about leaving with the whole shadow dimension and phantom thing. So, he convinced his parents to let him stay, saying how he had tests at school and needed to study and he was old enough and blah blah blah, which his parents eventually gave in to and let him stay at home alone. He didn’t think it would be so bad, but he’s lonely. Aiden is home alone a lot as well, his parents always traveling. Aiden isn’t lonely anymore now that he has Ben, but Ben goes to bed really early every night, waking up early to make breakfast and go for a run. Atleast, that’s what Aiden thought he did, since he preferred to go to bed late and sleep in. So in the night, that familiar feeling of loneliness floods back.

-

Logan arrived at Aiden’s house, with only his phone in hand. Aiden answered the door, letting him into his nice house and leading him to the couch. They shared a look, acknowledging that it was two in the morning and neither of them had slept. Why? Probably for the same reason as well. Stress. They were both stressed by this whole thing. Afraid even. Although neither boy would admit it out loud, it was the truth, and they both knew. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” Aiden suggested, turning on the huge flat screen tv, sending aiden to fetch some blankets and pillows.

Logan came back with a whole bunch of blankets and pillows from the hall cabinet. 

“Woah, that’s enough for a fort. Say, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s make one and then watch our movie. Logan was excited by the idea, already beginning to plan out how to create a perfect fort.

Logan explained his fort strategy, which Aiden didn’t quite grasp.

“I don’t really get it.”

“It’s not really that hard.”

“Whatever nerd, just tell me what to do” Aiden teased.

Once their cleverly designed fort was built they tried to pick a movie.

“What kind of movie do we want to watch?”

“I don’t know, nothing scary.”

The old Aiden would’ve called him a chicken. But this Aiden doesn’t want to watch a scary movie. Every night is like a scary movie for them.

“Okay, well what’s a movie you watched as a kid that’s still good?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Have you heard of the Inbestigators?”

Logan shook his head.

“It came out on Netflix when we were like eleven. I haven’t really told anyone about this, but i still watch it sometimes, to relax. It’s about these little Australian kids who solve mysteries. Except on like “What happened to my purse? Or, I think these kids are cheating on a test!” And they all solve it. If you don’t want to watch I totally get it, it’s a kids show anyway.” Aiden braced himself to be made fun of.

“Sounds fun. Let’s give it a try.” Logan says, getting comfy in his spot in the fort.

The episode begins. They watch one, laughing at the stupid jokes that are obviously aimed at kids, but are still funny to the sleep deprived teens.

After the first two episodes, Logan comments, 

“Seems like that girl, what’s her name? mildred-“

“”-Maude.” Aiden corrects.

“Seems like she solves all the mysteries.”

“Yeah she kinda does. She’s the smart one in the group. Like you.”

Logan blushes at the compliment from a friend.

The next episode starts, and he shifts himself closer to Aiden, who wraps a comforting arm around the smaller boy. 

That’s how Ben finds them in the morning, the tv screen reading “Are you still watching?”, smiling at the boys friendly cuddling.

🫶

request from @livingponcho

[hiscorset]

(🌙) — late n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟ calls with him. ✿

☆̲ Changbin x reader.

Summary: just like the tittle says, late night calls with changbin— or morning calls? Shhh, doesn't matter.

fluff <3 — moodboard

︶⊹︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶⊹︶

📱.. .. .. . ring ring. ... ring ring.. ring ri– "HELLO!?"

It was two in the morning, you were fast asleep and then you get a phone call? Of course you were going to be upset, being woken up early in the morning after a rough day at work? Nobody likes that idea, not at all.. it didn't matter how important the other person on the line was. It could be the president and you'd still yell at them.

"hi baby~ I didn't mean to wake you, I probably should've called earlier."

There was one person who could wake you up at any hour of the day, changbin. The exception and that was your loving boyfriend, changbin, the one who could make you feel 100 times better just by being in the same room as you or simply hearing his voice and you felt all the stress and worries of the day slowly disapear, was it cliche? Sure, but you didn't care because you finally got to hear his voice today. You loved him, but the idol life kept him extremely busy and with straykids having a comeback— he spent most of his nights at the studio working with the other members.

"Hey binnie, what are you up to? I thought you guys were working?" You asked tiredly.

"We are~ chan just wants us to take a small break, we just finished ordering food at the moment, so I thought I'd call." He responded.

You simply nodded at his words as you rubbed your eyes, attempting to get rid if the sleepiness that was still their, you didn't want to fall asleep on call with bin, after all you guys hadn't talked since yesterday and you really needed this, it was a rough day at work. Then you heard it, the familiar voices of chan and jisung entering the room again "hyung, the food should be arriving soon~" Jisung spoke with a small hum in his voice as he walked over to the older, a grin appearing across his face when he noticed that chan was on the call with you. "Y/nie!! How's it going? You really could come by, I really miss you. I think it's unfair how hyung's been keeping you to himself." He said with a small hum. "Yah! They're my partner... go talk to chan, leave me alone and let me talk to them in peace."

All you could do was let out a small laugh as the two went back in forth... once Jisung left you two alone (forcefully, chan pulled him away <3.) The two of you spent the rest of Changbin's break talking and even when the food arrived, instead of going with his members, the two of you talked as he ate, jumping from different kinds of topics, from how your day went to how the album was going and to how much you both desperately missed each other and were excited till tommorow because then he was all yours for the day, you could cuddle all day without any worries. After an hour of talking, changbin had to go back to working on their new album and you were off to bed, feeling much better than you had before because you were able to talk to changbin. ♡

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for giving a guy a time limit on texting me?

I (mid 20s F) met a guy (late 20s M) at a friend's party (we dont have any direct mutual friends. Hes friends with my friend's roommate's boyfriend) and we didnt talk very much while there but he offered to drive me home and i ended up going to his place with him instead. We talked (and kissed, etc.) and i slept over and he drove me home in the morning (which was really only like 4 hours later. It was late when we left the party and he had a very early (volunteer) shift). When he dropped me off he said we should go out to dinner sometime soon and i agreed. It was all very nice and he's incredibly attractive and just the kind of person im looking for.

About 2 days later (having not heard from him) i sent him a text basically saying id still like to go out to dinner with him & left it open for him to suggest a day. I didnt get a response. So about 4-5 days later i sent him a text along the lines of "if you didn't want to go out you could've just said so but i dont appreciate being ignored" and he responded immediately apologizing because he's had a lot going on with job hunting and he basically needs to get a new job within a month (he was laid off recently and lives alone so he could easily lose his house) and then once he's settled with that new job he'll hit me up but that he wasnt trying to ignore me. Ive been strung along before (very recently in fact, it's still a little raw) so in this conversation i told him i would've appreciated if he'd just said that rather than just being silent and he apologized again and then i said something along the lines of "i value my time and if i dont hear from you within a month then you can just forget about it". Which i mainly said to draw a line in the sand for myself. I want to make sure im not just endlessly waiting for a text that never comes because he really seemed so great, i know id (consciously or unconsciously) pass up other people and then get all lonely and depressed because im holding out for him. And a month is already a long time to pine anyway.

He didnt respond to that message (its been a week) and im worried it came across too harsh/bitchy/entitled. I meant it in like a "please check in with me at some point rather than just not texting me at all for the next month or two" way but i didnt want to explicitly say that because i just met this guy, we spent maybe two waking hours together, and i dont want to, like, Demand he take time out of job hunting to talk to me. But also, i feel like a text only takes a couple minutes and shouldn't be that big of a deal to ask for (he also texted while driving (driving driving. not at a red light) that night soo.. seems like he usually cares about responding to texts. i guess.)

So, am i the asshole for telling a man i just met that has one month to text me or im done, even though he's going through a very stressful time and is very busy?

What are these acronyms?

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

kaveh/gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warning(s)!!: alhaitham cringes at y'all (fun sucker), typical kaveh & alhaitham banter, no-gender mentioned for y/n, lowercase intended sorry im lazy

w.count: 2.1k

synopsis: kaveh is always forgetting his keys one way or the other, you try and keep his mind focused on what he keeps missing. he misunderstands your question 'aren't you forgetting something?'

a/n: much love to @birinboom for helping me choose this title and letting me annoy her with my banners for hours. smooches

you dont have to live in the same house as kaveh and alhaitham to know kaveh's morning routines of which he has several. sometimes he'll wake up early- be it a rare occassion- and peacefully make some coffee or review a few blueprint drafts then get ready for the day. others he's a bit more speedy, already dressed by the time he makes it into the kitchen for coffee and already having mehrak at his beck and call so they can get a move on.

but mostly, it consists of him oversleeping from hardly getting any sleep at all, rushing out of his room with his hands pushing the last of his red bobby pins in, yanking mehrak's handle with anything but an apology, and hoping that anything he needs for the day is already inside the sentient briefcase. he'd get a coffee somewhere at the akademia, or from some client if they're so kind, or even from you if you happen to run into him.

he never remembers everything though. most infamously, his house keys that are usually hanging by the door or somehow end up in alhaitham's possession. on those days, when you wake up in your own home devoid of all the chaos a morning with kaveh could include, you somehow always know when it's one of those days when he would be locked outside with no way in.

'alhaitham,' you call out to the grey-haired bookworm when you see him in passing through the akademia's halls on his way to work no doubt. he stops his strides and looks over his bare shoulder to see you coming over, hands full of material for your daily tasks.

'what is it?'

'do you have kaveh's keys today?' you ask quietly in the halls, making sure no one was within earshot since kaveh tried so adamantly to keep his living at alhaithams a secret.

alhaitham didn't verbally answer you, but he did pull out his own grey key revealing nothing attached to it. if he had it, normally they'd be stuck together by the keyrings. you nod and hum, waving to him before dismissing yourself since you didn't need to keep him from his work. only two options left:

kaveh forgot it at home or your gut was telling you wrong... for once.

you knew that your partner had a few meetings with clients today, but you weren't exactly privy to where those meetings would take place. whether it be their homes or somewhere like puspa cafe for the reason that it was surrounded by the noise of the public.

you decided to wait until later on in the afternoon to continue your investigation- he wouldn't notice until then anyways. besides, you had work to do today as well and he'd feel bad if he knew you spent your time running around looking for him instead of working. he didn't want you to fall behind on your tasks at his expense.

the said tasks at hand were fairly mundane and didn't pertain to anything of great stress. working for the akademia was stressful all on its own, but it could be worse. luckily, your relationship with alhaitham- the acting grand sage- was smooth enough that when you needed his approval for something he was quick to hear you out and then make a decision. you lightly chuckle at the memories of kaveh finding out he had rejected something from you for whatever reason and chewing his roommate's ear off later because of it.

kaveh could be high-strung about certain things- your duties and work for example- even when he didn't need to be. so you had advised him that any further pressing on why the acting grand sage told you 'no' (which shouldn't happen in kaveh's perfect world), wouldn't be necessary. the rejection made sense when you inquired further on it and all you would need to do was make some adjustments and try again.

it was the same type of drive you wish he'd have with his own stubborn clients. when something in a blueprint doesn't or can't work out due to literal safety and impossibility, you wish he'd just tell them so and just say no. though almost always, he caves. he's proud of his work, but you also know it weighs heavily on him as a 'genius architect'.

that overloaded, perfectionist mindset was exactly why he always forgets the small things not pertaining to work.

the middle of the day comes and just before it goes by with the tick of the clock hand, your name is called from afar. you could see your blonde worry-wart coming your way with mehrak close behind him. you stop in your strides in order for him to catch up with you and once he's within arm's distance he's slinging one of his over your shoulders to give you a small side-squeeze.

'running errands?' he asks before he's taking the books and files out of your arms and nods his head in the direction you were previously going. you learned long ago to not fight him on when he takes things from you so he could carry them in your stead. your arms had started going numb from the distance between your workspace and alhaitham's office where they were soon going to be delivered anyways.

'yup. documents and files for the acting grand sage to go over and review.'

'eugh,' kaveh shivers, 'can't you just refer to him by name? i doubt he cares if you drop the titles when you aren't even around him.'

'it's not very professional, kaveh. when im working i need to address him properly.'

'i dont see why. he wouldn't correct you if you just used his name.'

'he'd correct you though.'

'yeah to get under my skin!'

you laugh at the rise you start to get out of your lover before you lightly grabbed onto his bicep using it to tether you both together while his hands were occupied with your workload. the rest of the trip was filled with mindless, idle chatter- his favorite kind when with you. the moment you knocked on alhaitham's office door he had half a mind to stay out in the hall, but he couldn't just give your paperwork back to you. he had to see the duty of carrying your things for your through, even if that means getting a few rips from his grey-haired roommate.

'here are the documents i told you about before. they just need brief reviews and filing.'

'thank you,' alhaitham told you without so much as looking up to you. he knew kaveh was with you though. 'kaveh,' he started, 'y/n came to ask me if i had your keys this morning.'

kaveh basically dropped the paperwork on the desk since the acting grand sage decided to bring that up in the middle of the blond setting them down.

'they have a knack for suspecting when you have forgotten them,' alhaitham continued while kaveh distressingly looked to make sure no one was listening in while aggressively shushing him. alhaitham knew how to push his buttons.

still, kaveh was quick to search his person while you stood beside him amused. he pats his pockets and pants down, and even mehrak's digital expression twists, idly hovering nearby. acting anxious on his master's behalf. kaveh looks at you bewildered when his search comes up empty.

'how do you always-'

'i just do.' you answer him. 'dont worry, if the acting grand sage is kept busy you can stay at my home until he's back.'

'you're more than welcome to keep him,' the rip to kaveh went discarded as the blond just kissed your check in appreciation. 'please keep that out of my office,' alhaitham sighed. kaveh just sneered childishly at his previous underclassmen.

'consider that payback.'

'for what exactly?'

'oh, 'for what', he asks. for your little attempt to pester me just a moment ago!'

'oh, my apologies. i thought you hadn't heard me.'

'well, i did!'

'boys,' you intervene before they both get too worked up. 'i don't want to listen to you both squabble, so if that's all you need from me acting grand sage, i'll be going.'

'yes,' alhaitham sets his sights back to you, 'that'll be fine. thank you.' he thanks you again before you turn and start making your way out. kaveh makes it a point to grab your hand and swing your interlocked limbs dramatically on the way out, just to show the other man what for.

on other days, you're lucky enough for alhaitham to allow you to stay over with kaveh. he allows it for a couple of reasons: it keeps kaveh from hammering away on projects all night because he won't let you sleep by yourself and you have a tendency to placate the blond so the mornings can run much more smoothly than if it were just the two of them. also, you make coffee for both of them and any chance he gets to drink coffee he didn't have to go through the effort to brew himself gives him just a bit more time to himself and his books.

you were standing in the kitchen of their shared home in one of kaveh's open-back shirts. you had tried one on for fun once since they were so interestingly designed and found the open fabric was nice to sleep in since it didn't trap the stuffy sumeru night air.

as usual, alhaitham was the first awake and walking around. you shared sounds of morning humming before you give him his coffee and he meanders off somewhere to read. not long after, kaveh was waking up and stumbling bleary-eyed into the kitchen lured by the smell of coffee. you also hand him his mug of coffee with too much creamer in it and he receives it along with a peck to your lips.

'hmm,' he hums still groggy. 'your lips are warm.'

'well, i did drink come coffee myself. probably from that.'

'really? i didn't taste it.' he teases, wanting to try and 'taste' the coffee you drank before alhaitham shouted from the other room.

'take it out of my kitchen..!'

you spend the morning sharing kaveh's space and helping him get dressed and ready. he let you braid his hair and place his feather behind his ear. he helps you get dressed and flatten out any uncomfortable wrinkles in your clothes. along the morning quiet, he would place kisses anywhere he could. on your nape as he helps adjust your collar. your shoulder before you pull on your shirt after discarding his. on your wrist when you're braiding his hair messing it up in the process so you have to start over.

neither of you would talk much, but the messages conveyed through actions and small kisses are enough for an early day. you both hear alhaitham leave which lets kaveh loop his arm around your waist and swing you around playfully to his chest and hold you there for a bit before you both finally finish up.

just before kaveh leaves ahead of you since he doesn't let you open the door yourself, you snag the long, dark ends of his hair and effectively stop him. he whines before turning to you.

'aren't you forgetting something?' he racks his brain and even merak looks confused behind his shoulder with digitally upturned brows. he runs a quick mental checklist before a look of understanding crosses his face. he steps back over the threshold and the toes of his boots tap against yours. you weren't expecting the sudden proximity as you lean backward and almost stumble before his arm is wound around your back and his other hand gently guides your chin up.

behind the walls of the entrance and cracked open door, he kisses you sweetly. once on your lips, then the corners of your lips, then your cheeks, and then one more peck to your lips. he looks at you satisfied and only leans his chest away from you as you lift your arm.

'that was very flattering, but i meant these.' you both start laughing at the sight of his keys dangling between the two of you. his small keychain bearing witness to the overly affectionate kisses early in the morning.

'thanks, sweetheart,' he tells you before gently taking them and placing them safely in his pocket. he kisses you one more time on the forehead and finally starts to make his way out with you to start his day.

at least he didn't forget them today since you were there to remind him. he can only wait on pins and needles for the day he can do this in his own private home with you and not one where alhaitham ruins the mood all the time.