#this got into my brain and wouldn't let go

[crookedteethed]

ᥫ᭡. that time you got period blood in rafe's bed.

warnings: nothing but fluff and that time of the month shenanigans

a/n: brain wouldn't shut up tonight, so here's some soft rafe cameron for you girlies. 🤍

You wake up to that familiar cramping sensation and immediately know.

Your eyes snap open in horror, taking in the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets beneath you – Rafe's sheets. Rafe's very white, very expensive sheets that now have a very obvious stain.

"Shit," you whisper, mortification flooding your system as you try to quietly extract yourself from his arms without waking him.

"Mmm, where are you going." His sleep-rough voice catches you mid-escape attempt. Before you can stop him, he's pulling you back against his chest, nuzzling into your neck.

"Rafe, no – I need to—" But it's too late. You feel the exact moment he realizes, his body stilling behind you.

"I'm so sorry," you start rambling, trying to wiggle free. "I know how expensive these sheets are. I'll replace them, I swear—"

"Hey." His voice has that edge to it, the one that means you're being ridiculous. "Look at me."

You shake your head, face burning. "I ruined your sheets."

"Baby girl." There's amusement in his voice now. "You really think I give a fuck about some sheets?" His lips find your temple. "You hurting?"

The gentle question beneath his usual rough exterior makes your chest tight. You nod slightly.

"Alright, here's what's happening." It's his business voice, the one that means no arguments. "You're gonna take a hot shower, steal whatever you want from my closet, and I'm grabbing you some aspirin." He pauses. "And those chocolate strawberries in the fridge? Yeah, those weren't for tomorrow's country club bullshit."

You look up at him, surprised. "You knew?"

The corner of his mouth quirks up. "Princess, you really think I don't have your cycle tracked? Who do you think keeps restocking the tampons under my sink?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he'd be smug about being thoughtful. Your heart then does that stupid flutter thing it always does when he shows he actually pays attention.

Later, curled up on his ridiculously expensive couch, wearing his softest hoodie, you watch him navigate your heating pad with intense focus. The chocolate strawberries are perfect, and every time a cramp hits, his hand finds your lower back like it's instinct.

"Better?" he murmurs against your hair.

"Mmm." You sink further into him. "Still sorry about the sheets though."

He snorts. "Baby, I could buy new sheets every day for the next decade and not dent my wallet." His arms tighten possessively. "Now shut up about the sheets and eat your chocolate."

You turn to look at him, this man who tracks your period in his phone but would probably murder anyone who knew about it. This version of Rafe Cameron – the one who handles period stains and midnight cramps with the same intensity he handles everything else – is just for you.

"I love you," you whisper.

"Yeah?" That signature smirk plays at his lips. "Prove it by stopping this guilt shit about my sheets."

But his kiss is gentle, and when another cramp hits, his hands are already there, steady and sure.

What Figure Eight would never believe: how the infamous Rafe Cameron keeps tampons in his bathroom and period tracking apps on his phone.

But that's okay – let them have their trust fund tyrant. This softer version is yours alone.

[mameillieureennemie]

Hey i think it would be cool if you do another jinx x femreader ishas sister and something about isha walking in on a cute moment and getting grossed out maybe some angst😌 maybe some smut 😙😙 if u do that

hey love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy and thank you for the request :)

jinx x f!isha's sister!reader

there're hardly any moments you two can get alone. with the whole of piltover after you and the whole of zaun championing your girlfriend, it's been a very rough couple of weeks.

most of your time is spent hiding out, and during that time, you're entertaining isha as much as you can. whether that be through beetle brawling, drawing, or re-dying her hair so it doesn't lose its blue. it's anything you can do to keep her happy, to keep her away from the impending war that brews on outside.

but then a moment comes along where isha disappears. which isn't entirely odd because she's been known to vanish from time to time. you've grown used to it, after years of observing her movements, and calm jinx down when her look for isha grows a bit frantic.

"she's fine," you assure jinx, rubbing at her shoulder. "i wouldn't be this calm if i knew she wouldn't be."

"yeah, but," jinx says, running a shaky hand through her hair. "it's getting dangerous out there, and isha isn't us. she's young; she's practically a baby, and people are sick fucks with deranged brains and—"

you instantly draw jinx into your arms, tugging at her until her face is in the crook of your neck. you rub soothing circles against her back, softly cooing until jinx's muttering falls silent. then her arms are curling around your waist, holding you close, as if she's scared you'll disappear too.

"i know it's hard," you say gently. "to trust that things are okay. that the people you love are okay. but you can trust me and trust that i know what i'm talking about." you lean back so you can hold jinx's face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the angle of her cheekbones. "so trust me on this, okay? isha's fine, and she knows what to do if she runs into any trouble."

jinx seems unconvinced, but she slowly relaxes as she nuzzles into your touch. with a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes and says, "i've...never had to worry like this before. usually, it was others worrying about me. because i was the jinx, y'know? so it's odd...feeling this way."

you hum in response, still tracing patterns into her cheeks. "feeling what way?" you ask, a little curious and jinx opens her eyes with a shrug.

"responsible?" she tries, before shaking her head. "i don't know, i just—the idea of anything happening to you or isha rips me up inside. like i'd permanently lose my mind, go absolutely fucking crazy if something bad happened to you guys."

you hum again, this time with a hint of a chuckle. but her words have your heart racing because that's exactly how you feel. it also means that what jinx is experiencing is probably similar to your experience.

that she—

"you love us," you whisper, barely loud enough for jinx to hear. but she hears it, loud and clear, as she stares at you with eyes that momentarily look powder blue.

"i...do," she whispers, just as loud, and it's enough to push you. enough to have you pull her in so you can press a sweet kiss against her lips. a kiss she reciprocates eagerly, her arms still tight around your waist, placing you in a trap you hope to never escape.

just as she licks into your mouth with a soft moan, there's a noise that startles you both. you pull apart quickly, looking around and sighing when you see that it's isha.

whose nose is scrunched up in disgust, eyes clenched shut.

you can't help but laugh loudly as jinx snorts, refusing to let you go.

"some nerve you got," jinx scolds playfully. "you couldn't have come back in like twenty minutes?"

you shove jinx, just as playful, and say, "isha, you can open your eyes."

but isha shakes her head, intent of keeping her eyes safe.

but she's smiling now, and that's all that matters.

[justtheclippy]

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Saberspark TADC Cast Interview

Streamily Signing #1 (Amanda, Michael, Alex, Marissa)

Streamily Signing #2 (Amanda and Michael)

Streamily Signing #3 (Amanda and Sean)

Streamily Signing #4 (Amanda, Sean, Alex, Michael, Marissa, Vera, Hamish)

TADC Fan Game Stream: Game 1

Streamily Signing #5 (Amanda, Alex, Ashley, Sean, Michael, Marissa, Vera, Hamish, Wiz)

Fast Food Simulator Charity Stream (Amanda, Lizzie, Marissa, Michael, Ashley)

[mayapapaya33]

Well at least you're disagreeing with what I DID say and not what I DIDN'T say! That's fine then, I much prefer that. Yeah, sure, agree to disagree that's fine.

As for the misogyny bit you're going for... um no. It's a bit ungenerous that you defaulted to that interpretation but ok. No, like Yeza, I am supportive of Veth's career as a strong independent adventurer lol. In your mind is there no happy medium between what happened in canon and what you just proposed? Her cowering in a basement in Felderwin forever? Do you REALLY think that's what I meant? Yeza loves her enough to not live in Felderwin in the latter part of the campaign, do you really think he wouldn't leave Felderwin for her if she had somehow managed to explain the situation to him earlier, or if finding a way to get a new body took longer than it did in canon? What if they never found an answer? What if she was stuck in the body of a goblin forever? Would she have been justified in never telling her family and never seeing them again?

Goblins are not reviled everywhere in the world, there are places they could live together in peace. And let's be real, how old is Luc anyway? Who knows? Certainly not Veth! Does he remember the terror of the goblin camp properly in his teeny tiny toddler brain? Even if he does remember, Goblins are a race of people not actually creatures so they should probably confront that at some point so that he isn't scared and prejudiced against an entire race for the rest of his life due to childhood trauma. Idk just putting that out there.

For instance, in this alternate universe where finding a spell for a new body took longer, maybe they could have set up a home base somewhere less anti-goblin for Yeza and Luc to live, much like the set up in Nicodranas during the latter half of C2 with Veth popping in and out visiting them between adventures. My point about finding a new body taking longer is that at a certain point, it does become a conscious choice to stay away from her family on Veth's part. Yes, the goblins are 100% responsible for their initial separation, but at some point, it is Veth's choice that keeps them apart. So how long does it take for it to stop being an acceptable decision? 1 year, 5 years? 10 years?

The Mighty Nein could hold off the entire city of Felderwin if they tried to start shit with Veth, so eventually it's not about her bodily safety anymore. It's about her fear of rejection. (I'm fairly certain Caleb could take the whole town by himself with a well-placed AOE lmfao). And I know they are allergic to it, but subtlety is also an option. Seriously, what if they never found an answer to get her a new body? Would she have never seen her family again? Sometimes there is no answer to life's gross unfairness, and you just have to bear terrible things and live your life anyway. That's my point. I'm thrilled for Veth that she got her wizard treatment plan and has a new body. That's fantastic! I'm saying sometimes life doesn't work out like that, and how long is it ok for her, or Anyone, Male, Female, Non-Binary, what-fucking-ever, to stay away from their family and not reconnect with them?

I hold everyone to the same standards of parenting I'm holding Veth to btw. Shitty double standards are shitty. I think Veth tries hard and does her best. But sometimes your best isn't good enough. To be blunt, she's an alcoholic who can't remember how old her kid is. Yes, the meta reason for that is because Sam Riegel can't resist making a joke and child ages are hard and he didn't think about it before the show. But Yeza knows how old Luc is and Veth doesn't. She straight up said she was drunk for most of his childhood. (1:04:26) The Mighty Nein Reunion: Echos of the Solstice.

Now, this is NOT to shame people for having a substance abuse issue, it's a serious problem and people deserve compassion and help. But it's still a serious issue that causes a lot of problems for the people around them. Again, in the entire context of the show, the scenes themselves are all very funny, but the in-universe facts of the matter are actually quite sad. Think about it, she was drunk for MOST of his childhood. Think about the implications of that.

To take the spotlight off of Veth for a moment, let's speak of probably my favorite mom in critical role, Marion. Perhaps this will clarify my stance on things, and maybe you'll still disagree, but that's ok. I love her dearly and she is a wonderful person. She is kind and caring and she love's Jester with all of her heart, but she is also not the best at parenting on the planet. She did the best she could, but her agoraphobia caused her to unintentionally neglect Jester. It's not her fault that she's mentally ill, but it was her responsibility to take care of Jester, and in that respect she failed. Life is hard and no one is perfect. Sometimes that's just the way it is. But child neglect is still child neglect, even when it's unintentional and you have good reasons. Now, I happen to like Marion as a person more than I like Veth, but I'm holding her to the same standards. Are you taking care of your kid, yes or no?

You said that Veth is indulgent because she feels guilty, yes that is 100% what it is. Which is totally understandable but doesn't exactly lead to the best parenting decisions or the best partnering decisions either. Honestly poor Yeza got volunteered into owning a dog and having their kid do combat training without even a private conversation, you'd think that would warrant a discussion between them. (I'd be annoyed if a male character unilaterally decided something like that without consulting a female character, why not extend the same consideration to Yeza?)

Here's an example, Scene starts at C2 E71 (1:43:43): She unloads the crossbow of arrows, puts the "safety" on (lol) and stresses the importance of a balanced education, so that's great! Well done parenting right there! But she does immediately follow it up by getting the crossbow back from Luc by trading him a Grappling Hook for it lmfao. Not super safe for a 5ish year old to be playing with, those things are sharp! If she gave him extra candy or toys that would be one thing, even the dog is pretty forgivable and within acceptable levels of spontaneous indulgence given everything they've been through. I feel like THIS level of indulgence crosses some pretty firm parenting lines of Hey, maybe don't hand a 5ish year old something they could accidentally kill/maim themselves with! Maybe that's just me though?

Scene starts at C2 E71 (1:43:43) but she trades him a grappling hook at (1:48:23) hahaha.

If you watch all those family scenes again, try your hardest to ignore how funny everyone is being, which is a difficult task I'll grant you, and actually look at what is factually happening with the characters, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Or maybe you won't, like I said, it's fine to have different interpretations of things. I'm not saying she's a bad person, I'm saying she's a complicated person and she's not super great at parenting, but she does try.

Or here's a big example, how about that time Luc straight up died because Veth and Jester couldn't shut the fuck up for 10 minutes to let Caleb cast the dome to make their families safer in a completely unknown location while they were on the run from a terrifying evil wizard? You'd think responsible parenting (or responsible daughtering, looking at you Jester, your mom is right there!) would prioritize the safety of the child, rather than wandering around chatting about future plans for a detective agency in a potentially dangerous situation.

Veth IS a rogue, they could have snuck around the whole time, but they were having fun and got careless, and the cost was steep. She lucked out big time that Caduceus is THE Cleric of all time and saved a spell slot. (The blame is shared 50/50 with Jester on this one, it's just a vibrant example of the shit I'm talking about. She's reckless, makes bad decisions, and endangers people accidentally).

Again, the meta reason for this is because Sam and Laura can't stop cracking jokes, and THEY were having fun, and weren't paying attention to the volume of the conversation because the CR cast forget to do that all the time anyway. Too bad for Veth and Jester that it reflects INCREDIBLY badly on their characters this particular time. And Veth has a history of carelessness so you can't even say it's out of character, or just a one-off incident. Considering she accidentally killed both Caduceus and herself by being careless, it's a fairly consistent character flaw at this point.

(At least she pays child support though lol you are correct. Where's Relvin's child support Liliana?! Granted the child support payments from nowhere did freak Yeza out a bit so they might also double as accidental psychological warfare, but oh well, she DID try, I give her all the credit for that!)

As for the "hag thing" it's not about "thought crimes" or whatever, it's about her having the support system around her to have the strength necessary TO resist stuff like that and like Halas, etc. It's like how without the Mighty Nein Caleb would almost certainly have ended up back in Trent's web as a Volstrucker (Liam and Matt said it themselves, and that was Matt's plan if Caleb left the group) or Fjord would have ended up releasing Uk'otoa (Uk'otoa). Thinking about doing a thing, and doing the thing are not the same. I merely acknowledge the potential inside her for doing the things, and I think it's more than "just a thought" or a "moment of weakness." In the right circumstances, I think she'd do it. But she has support and love and hope and a wizard treatment plan, so she won't.

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[illbegottenfaith]

sweet?!

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - I meant to make a separate post a while back but college has been kicking my ass so 😭 but 300 followers!!! insaneee ily all sooo much mwah I feel so so grateful and also a little weirded out cuz wdym 300 people... (I am SO bad at these can you tell um anyways) also this was inspired by a new girl episode!! I kind of have plans for a part 3 but im still workshopping it so idk yet but !! we'll see :)

tropes/warnings - fluff, slight angst, mattheo not understanding physics (but its not like he had a formal education in the subject so is it rlly his fault??), tw descriptions of injury

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @kandralice @clairesblouse @deenaaa

"You're still coming this afternoon, right?"

You were having lunch in the Great Hall with your best friend Ivy, hours before one of the most entertaining sporting events of the year - an underground Muggle sports day. Every year, a group of students from each house would compete in some arbitrarily chosen muggle sport, with varying levels of success. Casualties and knee-slapping memories (for those standing in the sidelines, such as yourself) were a guarantee.

You nodded. "Are you kidding? Watching the boys wack each other black and blue at some poor attempt at a muggle sport? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope it's hockey. It's got sticks, you know." You got an odd, dreamlike look in your eye. "Merlin, I hope it's hockey."

Ivy dug into her Shepherd's pie. "Good. It sounds interesting enough. Plus, Theo's new girlfriend will be there."

You nearly upset your pumpkin juice.

"Girlfriend? When did that happen?"

Something in your voice must have given your true feelings away from the way Ivy squinted at you suspiciously. You pulled a face. It seemed convincing enough.

"It's all very new," Ivy said a tad bit sternly. "They met at Davies' party a while back and, well, they fancied each other, so -"

You snorted.

"What, is he blackmailing her?"

Ivy frowned at you. "Don't snark," she rebuked. "It isn't nice. She's a regular daisy, you'll see."

Yeah. Sure. You piled some more mashed potatoes onto your plate.

"Has anyone checked her for brain damage? Look - I'm not even snarking, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing - "

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work,” Mattheo was saying as the two of you walked over the makeshift Muggle basketball court someone had fashioned out of one of the disused storerooms in the dungeons. He and the rest of the Slytherin boys were wearing matching fluorescent green mesh vests to distinguish themselves from the Gryffindor team, engaged in some deadly serious discussion. A part of you wondered if you should mention that muggle sports weren’t generally meant to be as fatal as Quidditch.

As usual, Theo looked bored to death by the conversation. "We've been over this a hundred times. You dribble the ball -"

"Yeah, right," Mattheo vehemently said. "Like this thing's coming up if I throw it down. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, oddly reminscent of the way you did when you felt a migraine coming on.

"Remember the tennis ball, Matty? The fuzzy, green one?"

"That's different. That thing was tiny, and bouncy. This thing's heavy. It's the size of my head. No, a quaffle. No, a -"

"Then what do you think is going to happen?" Theo interrupted irritably.

“Stick to the ground, obviously. Watch - "

As seasoned as the lot of you had become in anticipating Mattheo's often highly dangerous impulses, this one came entirely out of left field. Theo yanked him back by his vest, but it was too late. He slammed the basketball down and it ricocheted back up almost immediately, punching him right in the nose. Mattheo swore loudly, and the last thing you saw before you looked away was an awful amount of blood.

Even after Enzo took him to the Hospital Wing, once Theo had sufficiently plugged his nose with obscene amounts of tissue, things did not improve for the team. About halfway through the game, an unfortunate scuffle between some of the players left Draco curled up in a ball, grimacing as he clutched his knee. Theo winced, running over to where Draco was doing a rather poor job of concealing his pain.

"Oh, that's so Teddy," Margaret gushed to you, "always stopping by to help anyone in need. Isn't he such a gentleman?"

You nodded stiffly, your slight smile frozen on your face, willing Ivy to hurry back with the snacks and drinks she had left for. After she had introduced the two of you to each other, you decided that Margaret was a perfectly pleasant person, even if she wasn't the type of friend you typically sought out. If anything, you were more confused than ever about what she was doing, hanging around a guy as bitter as Theo.

However, one thing that truly bothered you was the odd remark here or there that revealed her grossly inaccurate perceptions of him, such as this one. You thought back to just last week when you had tripped in front of him on one of the Shifting Staircases, your books tumbling down into the recesses of the stairwell. He had stopped by you, alright. Stopped to point and laugh, that is.

"Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. He's really sweet," Margaret finished.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"Sweet?"

Just in time, Ivy hurried over, gently pulling you away with some half-hearted excuse.

"O-kay, I think that's enough bonding for today."

"Sweet," you echoed weakly as you limply allowed yourself to be carted away, the appalled expression still on your face. "She thinks he's sweet." Euch.

But Ivy wasn't paying attention to you anymore. "How bad is it?" she asked, as the two of you neared the cluster around Draco.

"Bad," Ivan replied, gingerly pressing Draco's knee. "He definitely needs to see Madam Pomfrey. No way he'll be able to play any more today, and we're out of reserves, so we're a man short." He turned, motioning to the Gryffindor players scattered across the field that the game was over.

"Damn. I'll take him to the hospital wing, I've been meaning to check on Mattheo too. Meg, you'll help me, won't you?"

With a little difficulty, the three of them limped along once they had pulled Draco's arms over their shoulders. One of the Gryffindor players approached the crowd, picking up on what was happening after a glance at Draco.

"What about the game?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "We'll rematch, you nitwit."

You went back to your seat, trying to figure out what to do with Ivy's refreshments. Once it was clear that the game was over, the last of the players and the scanty audience filtered out of the room.

"What gives?"

You pulled your gaze back to the lone Slytherin player left, in a blood-spotted mesh vest. Your least favourite player. You could slap that on a T-shirt - not that you wanted to cheer for him. Merlin, no. Cheer against him, maybe. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy - which, coincidentally, happened to be him. You momentarily abandoned your musings as you returned to the real world, noticing the expectant look on his face.

"Hm?"

Theo spread him arms out and shrugged in a helpless sort of manner.

"I don't get it, L/N. What do you want from me?

You stared at him blankly. "...what are you talking about?"

He scoffed half-heartedly, like he was too upset to put any real heat behind it.

"I have this amazing new girlfriend that everyone loves." He tossed the ball away with a defeated air. "Everyone, except you."

The words stung. You stuck your chin out defiantly.

"Why do you care so much about what I think?"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?

"I just want you to be honest."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Honesty? That's what this is about?"

That's what it had always been about, you wanted to say. You sniffed nonchalantly, rearranging the pleats of your skirt.

"I don't think it's fair to Margaret that you're selling her some lie just to -"

"You think I'm lying to her?"

He kept his voice cool, almost offensively neutral. You rolled your eyes. "I know you are."

Theo was quiet after that, as if mulling over what you had said.

"So," he pressed after a moment, slowly walking towards you, forcing you to crane your head up to maintain eye contact, "you think I should be more transparent with her. That is...show her my unpleasant side."

You allowed yourself a brief smile. "Exactly."

"Be more rude to her."

"Yeah."

"Mock her."

You furrowed your brow slightly.

"Erm, sure."

"Insult her."

"I - what?"

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

In that moment, you decided you never hated Theo more than you did then, with his domineering stances, condescending sneers, and caustically sarcastic remarks. You swallowed hard, your throat almost painfully tight as you felt the traitorous prick of tears behind your eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered. But he wasn't being entirely ridiculous, was he? It was what made the whole thing all that more upsetting.

If he noticed you were teary-eyed, he didn't comment on it, as if it were disappointing. As if you were yet another disappointment in his book of unfairly high expectations. He straightened with a barely convincing air of nonchalance. If anything, he looked just as upset as you felt.

"Whatever, L/N. See you around."

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 10 ☆Moment 4 Life☆

Sorry this took so long I just kept hitting a roadblock while writing it but I finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy as always feedback is appreciated ;) Word count: 2.17k Warnings: Lots of sports talk, Mentions of alcohol consumption, and tension😏

24 Hours before The World Series 

The stage was set: Atlanta Braves vs. Houston Astros. And believe me, I was ready.

I let out a deep breath as I racked the bar on the squat rack. Working out always seemed to calm my nerves before a big game, especially this one.

I sat down on the beach and took a sip from my water bottle. Part of my brain hadn’t fully processed the fact that tomorrow was the biggest game of my career, while the other part was trying to focus and get into the zone.

“Hercules! Hercules! Hercules!” my mom called out, quoting The Nutty Professor while clapping her hands.

Looking over my shoulder, I shook my head and laughed. “Morning, Ma.”

“Good morning, sweetheart! Breakfast is ready,” she said, leaning against the doorway.

“You didn't have to; I was going to grab something before—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

“You know how I am,” she waved her hand. “Come on upstairs and eat before the pancakes get cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After a fantastic breakfast made by Mom—something I'm sure my trainer will have a few words about later—I walked onto the field for practice. The familiar scents of fresh paint and damp dirt filled the air.

Practice felt different today and in a good way. Everyone was pushing themselves just a little harder, and smiles were on everyone's faces; rightfully so, considering tomorrow is the World Series—who wouldn't be excited?

Walking into the media room for what could possibly be my final time, I took a seat and quickly greeted everyone in the room.

“Sierra, how are the nerves less than 24 hours away from the World Series?” the first reporter asked.

I took a breath before answering. “Pretty good! I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous, because that would be a lie. But the right kind of nerves are good.”

“The last time you all played against the Astros, you lost a three-game series. Are you confident that you can beat them?” another reporter inquired.

Confident? Man, please.

“We don’t have any other choice but to beat them. I am confident that we’ve learned from our mistakes, and we will win,” I replied with conviction. 

Once again, Mom commandeered my kitchen for dinner, but honestly, I can't complain. There's something comforting about her culinary prowess that makes the house feel warm and inviting.

Later that evening, as I settled down to unwind, I scrolled through Instagram when a notification caught my eye. I had been tagged in a video posted by the Bengals, and my curiosity piqued. Tapping on the notification, Joe's familiar face filled my screen, a snippet from his press conference earlier that day.

“The World Series starts tomorrow. Do you plan on watching?” a reporter asked, his voice steady with anticipation.

“Yeah, I do. Got to watch my girl get the win,” Joe replied, a wide grin lighting up his face.

Wait a minute—did he just say “my girl”? 

It struck me like a bolt of lightning. We hadn't even been on a date yet, let alone discussed any labels or commitments, yet here he was, claiming me in front of the world.

Possessive? Yes. But I have to admit, I liked it.

World Series Game 1

Today is the day: Game 1 of the World Series.

Waking up felt different today. Getting dressed felt different. Even having my hair and makeup done felt different. Everything feels different, but not in a bad way—more like, this is my moment.

As I walk into the ballpark, I find myself not really paying attention to the cameras. My focus is on the game ahead of me, and I’m also trying not to trip in these heels. I see why I don’t wear them often—they hurt!

But that pain quickly faded away when the first pitch of the game was thrown.

Two teams will play between 4 to 7 games, all for one prize: the Commissioner’s Trophy. This is the World Series.

Game 1 is in the books. Unfortunately, we didn't secure a win, but that's okay; you win some, you lose some. The score was 4-8.

In Game 2, we bounced back with a blowout victory of 7-0.

Game 3 saw us lose home-field advantage, but we still managed to win in Houston, finishing with a score of 4-1.

In Game 4, Houston gained some momentum and narrowly won by one run, with a final score of 6-5.

Game 5 went into extra innings, but we pulled through and got the job done, ending with a score of 10-9.

In Game 6, the Astros clinched a victory with a grand slam, keeping their World Series hopes alive. The final score was 8-7.

Now, we find ourselves back in Atlanta for the last game of the series. As of right now, my nerves are on edge because, in this game, every hit counts, every out matters, and most importantly, every score matters.

It all comes down to this pivotal moment. The stadium is electric as I stand at the bottom of the 9th inning, two outs secured, with a runner perched on second base. With the score hanging in the balance at 8-7 against us, the weight of the situation bears down heavily on my shoulders.

I know exactly what I need to do: connect solidly with the ball and drive it deep into the outfield, giving the runner a chance to dash home. Easy, right? Just a casual swing in front of 31,000 fervent fans who are all hoping for a miracle.

Stepping into the batter's box, I adjust my helmet and take a deep breath, trying to drown out the cacophony of cheering and chanting that envelops Truist Park. The familiar strains of "It's A Man's World" echo in my ears, heightening my focus as I mentally prepare for what lies ahead.

I set my stance, feeling the cool air against my skin, and lock eyes with the pitcher on the mound. He’s a seasoned player, his demeanor calm, yet I can sense the tension rippling through him as he glances briefly at the runner on second before facing me again. With a swift motion, he winds up and launches his pitch toward me.

I tighten my grip on the bat and, as the ball approaches, I make the decision to check my swing. I hold back just in time, watching the ball sail past me — it’s a ball, one count, no strikes. I exhale slowly, mentally recalibrating for the next pitch.

Gathering my concentration again, I position myself for what could be my final chance. The pitcher goes through his routine again, taking a moment to check the runner’s position before propelling the ball towards me once more.

This time, I hold my breath as I watch the projectile race toward the plate. I swing my bat with everything I’ve got, the wood making solid contact with the ball. The sound is explosive, resonating like a whip crack through the air, sending a thrill through my veins.

As I adjust my stance, I see the ball soaring into the sky, arcing beautifully as it heads toward the outfield. It continues its ascent, disappearing over the stadium's walls and splashing into the waterfall display that adds to the ambiance of this incredible venue.

In that exhilarating moment, it hits me: we just won the World Series.

Holy shit… WE JUST WON THE WORLD SERIES!

In an adrenaline-fueled rush, I slam my bat to the ground, the echo of victory reverberating in my ears as I begin my journey around the bases. The stadium erupts in a deafening roar — fireworks burst overhead, illuminating the night sky, while the crowd erupts with cheers and shouts, a collective celebration of triumph.

Tossing my helmet aside, I approach home plate, my heart racing as my teammates swarm me the instant I touch it. They envelop me in a chaotic celebration, screaming and jumping in unison, pure joy radiating from every face.

This is the pinnacle of my dreams, a moment I’ve envisioned since I was just a nine-year-old girl playing wiffle ball in my backyard with my uncle. From being the only girl on the high school baseball team to earning a full-ride scholarship at LSU, and culminating in winning the state championship, this moment eclipses them all: winning the World Series.

God. 

is. 

good. 

Every ounce of hard work, every sacrifice, every moment of doubt pales in comparison to the realization of this dream. I stand amidst the celebration, grateful, overwhelmed, and utterly elated. This is why I play.

After a whirlwind of interviews followed by a bear bath celebration, a refreshing shower, and an energetic afterparty, I finally stepped back into the comforting embrace of my home. 

“Thanks again, Kyle,” I called out, watching as he made his way back toward the elevator, his figure illuminated by the soft hallway lights. 

“No problem, sleep well,” he replied, flashing a warm smile before disappearing behind the elevator doors. The best driver in the world, hands down.

With a sigh of relief, I unlocked my front door and crossed the threshold, the familiar scent of home washing over me. I locked the door behind me and, with a gentle thud, dropped my duffle bag right at the entrance, mentally promising myself I’d unpack it tomorrow—or, more likely, later today. All I craved was the soft cocoon of my bed, a well-deserved sanctuary after such a long day.

As I rounded the corner toward my room, I noticed a sliver of light cutting through the darkness—the kitchen light glowed unexpectedly. I furrowed my brow, certain I hadn’t left it on. Perhaps my mom had flicked it on before heading out to the airport. 

Curiosity piqued, I padded softly toward the kitchen, only to be met with an utterly unexpected sight: a strikingly handsome quarterback, standing 6’3” with tousled hair and piercing blue eyes, casually leaning against my counter like he owned the place.

“Surprise,” he said, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

A smile broke across my face as I shook my head in disbelief. “Surprise indeed,” I replied, the warmth of his presence igniting a flutter of happiness in my chest.

“C'mere,” Joe beckoned, his arms outstretched, inviting me into a hug that felt both familiar and incredibly grounding. 

I stepped into his embrace, surrendering to the moment as he nestled a tender kiss on the top of my head. “Proud of you,” he murmured, his breath warm against my hair.

Emotions swelled within me, and I simply nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness. 

Joe pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, an edge of concern etching his features. “You okay?”

Looking up at him, I nodded, a smile slipping out as I exhaled. “Yeah,” I breathed, “Just really, really happy—and maybe a little drunk,” I chuckled, the effects of the evening buzzing in my system. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago,” Joe replied, his tone laced with both excitement and regret. “Today starts my bye week, and I figured, why not surprise you? Just wish I could have been here to see you win,” he added a bittersweet note in his voice.

“It’s okay, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” I reassured him, my eyes drifting from the depth of his gaze to the inviting curve of his lips, only to return to his eyes—intensely captivating.

Ugh, why did he have to look so kissable? Damn you, vodka!

A comfortable silence enveloped us, a fragile moment stretched between us, thick with unspoken words and electric tension. 

Clearing his throat, Joe broke the stillness, “Come on, you look like you might pass out,” he teased gently, nodding toward my bedroom. It was true; the exhaustion was pulling at me, whispering sweet nothings of sleep. So, without resisting, I unwound myself from his embrace and began the trek to my room, Joe following closely behind.

I couldn’t tell if it was the lingering alcohol buzzing through my veins or the undeniable desires I felt, but the need to be close to him was intoxicating. In his arms, everything felt perfectly right.

Groaning as I woke up to the bright Atlanta sun shining in my eyes, I pulled the blanket over my head to block out some of the light. I really need to invest in blackout curtains.

Eventually, I decided it was time to get up and start my day.

But as I opened the door, I heard a noise coming from the living room. Is that the TV?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked into the living room.

“Morning, sweetheart,” 

@enretrogue @hoodharlow

[deadpan-whistled]

Why? - A Thangyu Oneshot

——————

Pairing: Thanos x Nam-gyu

Warnings: Drug use; Strong Language

Summary: Thanos grapples with feelings for Nam-gyu, who is interested in asking someone else out.

Word Count: 703

——————

Thanos's hands fumbled around his cross-stashed pills, opening it and popping a pill. He needed something to clear his mind from the unsure thoughts about the one man he had grown fond of in this hell-hole.

"Can I have one?"

Thanos turned on his heels, wide eyes locking with the beautifully dark eyes of Nam-gyu. He had already seen the track marks on this man's arms, there was no reason for him to tell the other no, so he didn't. Instead, he groaned dramatically and placed a small pill on his friend's palm. "Fine, you junkie," he stated, slightly lower than he would have otherwise. "Not like you wouldn't stop bothering me if I told you no."

Nam-gyu smiled wide at the purple-haired man, happily accepting the pill.

"Hey, man, I was wondering—" Nam-gyu started to talk, walking over the short way to lay out on Thanos's bed. "You don't like Se-mi, right?"

Thanos followed him and shrugged. "She is a bitch, I think," he said. "Why?"

"I was thinking about asking her out for when we get out of this place." Nam-gyu motioned around the giant room they were in.

"What?" The single word slipped out of Thanos's mouth before he even thought about it. Heat rose to his face, his stomach churned something ugly.

Nam-gyu's smile slipped away, he had felt the air shift around them. Nam-gyu's eyebrows furrowed together. "Huh?" He sat up a little bit. "Is something wrong?"

Thanos crossed his arms and leaned back, careful to not make eye contact. "Nothing is wrong, what the hell are you talking about?"

By now, Nam-gyu was sitting up straight. "Are you jealous?" He asked, shock on his face. "Man, if you want to ask her out, you could have just said that," he said, trying to make up for any harm he could have made. "I mean— you have a better chance than me."

"Tsk!" Thanos scoffed, "THAT is not the issue."

Now, shock became confusion for Nam-gyu. "Then what is it?"

Thanos groaned and stretched out on his bed. "I do not have an issue, ask out whoever you want."

Nam-gyu's head tilted, similar to a puppy in Thanos's opinion. "So... you wouldn't mind if I got with Se-mi, right?"

"No," Thanos sat up, quick as a bullet. "I would mind!"

Thanos did not exactly understand his anger over this situation and it embarrassed him that he even was slightly jealous over this. Nam-gyu jumped at Thanos's sudden harsh tone. He was just as confused as Thanos by this point. They studied each other for a moment before Nam-gyu asked the long awaited question: "Why?"

Silence.

A long, long silence.

They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Nam-gyu waited, and the longer he waited for the answering, the more his brain wracked itself for the solution.

"I..." Thanos frowned, "I'm not sure, Nam-su."

Nam-gyu opened his mouth to correct the other, but reasoned within himself that maybe now wasn't the right time.

"Fine," Nam-gyu responded after a second of thinking about how to go about this. He held his hands up in a surrender. "I won't ask her out, okay?"

Thanos finally met the others eyes, a relieved feeling flooding him. "Yeah, okay." He said, standing up. He reached his hands out to dap up the other, Nam-gyu accepting the gesture. "Let's move on from this, my brother."

"For sure, man..." Nam-gyu answered. "For sure."

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses IV

Part I Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: I hope you like it, I´m so thankfull for every interaction with my posts. I love you guys so much <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean af

Word count: 5k

Staying alone in Jax´s room would only bring overthinking and second-guessing your presence there, so you decided to go search for a friendly face to distract you from every mistake you´d made in the last three hours.

The party was decaying fast, a few members still around drinking and chatting. You spotted Chibs sitting at the bar, and smiled to yourself, knowing he'd give you shit for…well, everything. 

Chibs looked up from his beer when you sat down next to him, brows raising in curiosity and mischief. But he said nothing, waiting for you to set the tone of the conversation.

So, with a defeated sigh, you did exactly that, ¨Go ahead, lay it on me¨. 

The scot laughed, but did not miss his chance. ¨Ya two were putting on quite the show out there, I thought you were gonna rip each other's clothes off on the spot¨.

You just laughed, what else was there to do?. ¨That bad huh?¨

The scot had a look in his eyes that could only be matched by a kid on Christmas morning, he had clearly missed having you around to give you a hard time. And he clearly had some more to add, ¨Oh, it was damn near pornographic. The way-¨

¨Oookay okay, i know i was there, remember?¨, he seemed pleased with himself watching your face redden under the dim lighting of the clubhouse. 

He turned a bit more serious, even if still wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. He hesitated before speaking again.

¨Seriously, though? I thought I was watching one of those cheesy movies you like. Next thing I know you´ll be confessin´your true love on a beach at night¨

You scoffed a laugh, but answered nothing. This was his way of telling you there was more than sexual tension there, and that he did not think it was a bad idea to pursue whatever else was brewing between you tonight. But of course Chibs liked you together, they all did, because you leveled Jax. When you dated he got into fewer fights, he didn't make reckless decisions, and he was in a better mood, which everyone thanked. The other side wasn't so pretty, knowing you'd always come second to his brothers, worrying about him whenever he was on a run, patching him up after, learning how to shoot and defend yourself `just in case`,...

Did you love him? Of course you did, that was the only reason you put up with it, until it became too much. You couldn't let yourself get dragged back into all of it. 

Jax was the kind of guy everyone wants to date: charming, hot, loving, all that mixed with the rush of the danger that came along with being a part of the club. Everyone doesn't know what it feels like, alone in your bed at 3 am, wondering if the cops got them, or the deal went wrong and they´re in a fight, or if he's dead on the side of the road. 

Chibs could almost hear your brain whirring and clicking, so he mentioned someone he knew you wouldn't resist talking about. ¨Gemma was about ready to explode¨.

You tried, and failed, not to laugh, ¨She burst in the room while I was cleaning Jax up¨.

Chibs matched your vibe instantly. No matter how much he loved Gemma, she'd been awful to you since day one, playing a main role in your breakup. So yeah, he´d relish a bit in her misery.

¨Wish I could've seen her face¨, he laughed, ¨What'd she say?¨.

You straightened your back, imitating her body language, ¨I'm his mother and I know what's best for him¨. A quick laugh flew from your throat before speaking again, in your own voice this time. ¨ You know, the usual¨.

A silly smile, a gentle one, invaded your face. Chibs just gave you your own time to say whatever caused it. And you did, in a lower voice, as if saying it aloud would make it not be real.

¨He actually stood up to her, he defended me¨, biting your lip, as much as you tried, did nothing to hide the stupid grin plastered on your face. And for the bare fucking minimum that is.

A look of respect crossed his face, eyebrows rising in surprise. Before saying anything else, he took a sip of his beer, letting the revelation sink in.

¨Did he now? That takes some serious balls¨. You nodded, looking down at your hands with that stupid lovesick look still on your face. 

Only then you realized, you´d been patching him up, he was beat and he´d need meds. ¨Hey you got some painkillers? big guns, he's messed up¨.

His stare got serious for a second, going over what he had. After a few seconds he dug in the inside pocket of his kutte and handed you a plastic bag with around ten pills inside. As he opened his mouth to give you the indications, you got up, interrupting him. 

¨Bed rest, no alcohol, what else doc?¨. You felt like a student again, eagerly answering questions about what should be done with patients. 

A smirk played on his lips, wanting to get back at you for cutting him off. ¨I wouldn't encourage any `physical activities´ tonight, let the boy rest¨. Once again, the familiarity of being in a situation you´d been in a dozen times before stirred something inside you.

It was comforting in a way, it felt like home. 

And, as so many times in the past, you promised it wouldn't happen. The difference was that you meant it. Chibs´s knowing look followed you, he sensed the tension that still lingered between the two of you. He also knew you were more than capable of handling Jax, which meant he could go to bed and not give a fuck. At least for tonight.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and looked around for something to eat. You were tired and not in the mood for cooking, or a full meal, but Jax needed to eat something. He'd try to resist, he was awfully stubborn and he hated depending on people.

It was ironic really, he got himself into needing to be looked after. There was chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, so after grabbing two spoons, you made your way back to Jax´s room. 

Chibs was no longer by the bar when you passed it, so you breathed deep and continued on your way. The shower was still running as you set the ice cream and water on the bedside table. It had been a long time, Jax was most likely standing there, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. Instead of disturbing him, you decided to lay on the bed. So you took off your shoes and closed your eyes, letting the humming of the shower relax you. 

After a good ten minutes the water stopped flowing, and shuffling sounds made their way to your ears.

Jax came out of the bathroom and stood on the doorway, honest surprise in his face at the sight in front of him. It had been a long time since you´d laid on his bed, especially so relaxed. 

Betting that he´d only be wearing a towel, you did not dare open your eyes, knowing the sight could be enough to send you into an early grave. His toned body wet, water dripping from his hair and beard onto his chest, down his abs, the towel low on his hips, a very visible happy trail,...

¨So you didn't fall down and drown¨, you simply stated.

Jax´s chuckle turned into a wince rather quickly, you furrowed your brows. You did not get a chance to ask how he was feeling when he retorted jokingly, ¨Managed to stay upright, darlin´, thanks for your concern¨

You felt it when he sat by your feet at the end of the bed, you also heard him groan. Finally opening your eyes, you offered some help. ¨Need a hand? Getting dressed?¨. The forming bruises on his back looked weirdly good, complimenting his tattoo.

Your question was met with silence as he glanced down at his body, probably trying to figure out a way to do it on his own.

There wasn't one, he was battered.

Jax chuckled wryly, admitting defeat. ¨My arms are sore and my ribs are killing me¨.

Of course he wouldn't admit to needing help, god he was like a kid sometimes. So you stood up and walked to his closet, hoping a little joke would make him feel better .

¨What are you feeling? casual chic? eleganza extravaganza? cocktail attire?¨. His dry laugh once again led to a wince, but his humour didn't falter, ¨I ain't´exactly feelin´up to a fashion show at the moment¨.

You shrugged, ¨As you like¨, grabbing grey sweatpants and a white shirt, ¨You ready?¨. He looked up at you when you made your way back to him, nodding slowly.

He took a deep breath as he sat straighter, ¨Ready as I´m gonna be¨. When he looked up at you, the vulnerability in his eyes got to your heart. You would've done anything to make him feel better, that had always been the issue. 

So you smiled at him, you couldn't help yourself. The cold nurse was long gone, you now were the girl that had fallen hard for him. ¨You´ve been worse, right? This is a walk in the park¨. Jax chuckled through the pain.

¨Been worse, I´ll give you that. A walk in the park might be an exaggeration¨, you caressed his shoulder as he kept talking, ¨I´m trying my best not to pass out and you´re here all smiles like you don't have a care in the world¨. 

¨You are what I care about right now¨. And before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pecking the side of his mouth. Sure, it wasn't a proper kiss, but still, what the fuck were you doing?.

Jax was clearly caught off guard, and when you stepped back a smile was tugging at the corner you´d just pecked.

¨You can't just go around doin´that¨, his voice was a bit hoarse, ¨I aint supposed to get excited right now, darlin´¨

The fact that he was joking was a good sign, but had nothing to do with the smile lingering on your face. ¨Okay, whatever, you know it wasn't like that¨, you laughed, handing him the sweatpants.

You kept on bossing him around as you made your way back to his closet, ¨Put those on and I´ll help you with the shirt¨, you looked over your shoulder at the bruise on his ribs and muttered under your breath, ¨That´ll be trickier¨.

You paid more attention to his groans than the clothes you were picking to change into, and decided he was fine. As fine as he could, given the circumstances. 

Jax finally managed to get the sweatpants over his hips, not missing a chance to rile you up when he noticed what you were doing. ¨You´re not stealing my clothes when I am on the verge of death, are you?¨.

The amusement in his voice made you smile, ¨Well I'm not sleeping like this¨, you vaguely gestured to your dress.

He loved the idea of you sleeping next to him, wearing his clothes. ¨You could always sleep naked¨. He spoke low enough that you had to make an effort to hear him, turning around to see his grin. And that may have been a bad move, a flash of the past crossing your mind…Jax, giving you that same grin, from between your thighs. 

Somehow you managed to answer casually, not letting your true feelings show, ¨You´re not supposed to get excited, remember?¨

¨´course I remember, it doesn't mean i can appreciate the view¨. Something more important than the banter between you came up, a pair of leggings. Not any pair, your favourite ones. The ones you haven't been able to find since the breakup. ¨They were here all this time?¨

Jax chuckled, knowing how much you loved them. ¨Found ´em a few months ago¨, the ghost of a smile danced on his face, ¨Looks like they found their way back to you¨

You bit your lip, pleased with your finding, and pulled out a zip-up hoodie, ¨I think this will be easier to put on¨

You walked up to him, ¨Okay let's go¨, and put his right arm through the sleeve. He didn't complain, so you did the other one. ¨Want me to zip it up?¨.

Jax just nodded, breathing through the pain in his ribs. 

When you were done, you opened his side of the bed, ¨Get in, I´ll be right back¨

You watched as he slowly laid down, playfully pouting at you. ¨You really gonna leave me all alone?¨

You hummed, ¨Yeah, give you some time to think about what you did¨. You heard his chuckle as you went in the bathroom and closed the door.

You changed into your leggings and the shirt you´d originally gotten for him and looked in the mirror. You honestly looked way better than you expected, so you washed your face and took the fangs off. 

Jax looked up when he heard the doorknob twisted, and he had to stop himself from smiling when he saw you. His heart ached to have you back in his life. He nodded at the space next to him and you made your way over, grabbing the ice cream on the way. He didn't need to hear it to know you wanted him to eat something, even if he did not feel like it, so he took that to his advantage. He grabbed the ice cream and patted the bed next to him. ¨I´ll eat if you lay down with me¨

You both knew you couldn't say no to him, so why even try? You sat next to him, handing Jax one of the spoons and burying your own on the ice cream tub. He kissed your temple, ¨Thanks for taking care of me, I know I can be stubborn¨.

Finally you accepted it , you were in too deep, and you didn't care. Maybe tomorrow morning you would, you'd regret everything. ¨You really are insufferable, baby¨.

Both of your hearts jumped at the pet name, yet decided to play it nonchalant, focusing on the ice cream. 

¨I aint that bad, just a little stubborn is all¨. His playful look was met with your incredulous one, ¨A bit-?¨.

He laughed, knowing he was an absolute ass at times, ¨Dont lie, you love it¨.

Shaking your head at his smugness, you handed him two pills.  ¨Please, knock yourself out¨.

A little while after taking them, Jax felt the pain starting to dull and his head getting drowsy. Still, he tried to stay awake, to enjoy five more minutes of your company. Even if that was just laying next to you while you ate the whole ice cream. 

¨You really think I´m that bad, huh?¨. He mumbled, a smile on his face.

You placed the empty container on the bedside table and laid on your side, looking at him. ¨Not at all¨, your voice was barely above a whisper.  

Jax´s eyelids were heavy, the meds really starting to work, you could tell he was making an effort to keep his eyes from closing. 

¨I'd hate to have you think I am an insufferable ass¨.

You´d already fucked up by ending in his bed, so what was another tiny mistake? You leaned in and softly kissed him, whispering against his lips. ¨Well yeah, but you´re my insufferable ass¨.

His heart skipped a beat, he gently kissed you, one of his hands softly grazing your hip. ¨Damn you¨. What he wanted to damn, more than you, was the effect you still had on him.

You bumped your nose against his, teasing him. ¨Nice thing to say after I took care of you¨.

He snorted, now laying on his back. ¨You know what I mean¨, he gave you a lazy smile, ¨Not fair, kissin´me when I'm high and can't do nothin´about it¨.

He looked relaxed from the side, you could tell he was almost asleep, ¨You got bigger things to worry about¨.

The ever-present smirk on his face did not falter, ¨Do I now, like what?¨.

God, how he managed to still be so cocky you would never understand. You were a close second though, only giving him a pointed look for an answer. And he knew what you meant, of course he did, but how could he not tease you a little?

He put the best innocent facade he could muster before side eyeing you, ¨You´re gonna have to be a little more specific, darlin´¨ .

You just laughed under your breath, ¨What a fucking ass¨.

He was a sucker for you, living for moments like these, living for you. ¨Aren't you supposed to be nursing me back to health?¨, you were scooting closer before you knew it, ¨And here I thought you were doing it because you care about me or somethin´¨.

¨Oh my god how long do these meds take to work¨, you playfully teased, ¨there are no laws against insulting you while I heal you, baby¨.

¨You´re a real piece of work, y´know that?¨, he was slurring, the pills finally getting to him. 

You just shushed him, caressing his face, ¨Sleep now¨.

Jax could barely fight it, but he found the strength to ask you one last thing. ¨You´re not gonna disappear on me while I sleep, are you?¨.

You didn't let yourself think about it for too long before reassuring him that you'd stay. He finally fell into a deep, medicated sleep. When the stress was finally gone, you realized how tired you actually felt. It did not take long for you to close your eyes and drift off next to him.

About six hours later, a pair of blue eyes slowly opened under furrowed brows. The first thing Jax had felt when consciousness returned to him had been pain. It wouldve been very romantic that you were the first thing on his mind, sure, but that´s just not how life works sometimes. 

The ribs on his left side, his fists, the back of his head, it was as if every single part of him was hurting.

Your stirring finally reminded him of…well, everything that had happened. Its not that he didnt remember what had happened, but considering he hit his head Jax just assumed it had been a dream. 

It hadnt though.

You looked peaceful, the ghost of a smile gracing your lips. You´d looked beautiful last night, but this was better. No worry lines on your face, no furrowed brows, just a smile. 

Cute as this moment was, his body had other plans. Jax slowly sat up, trying not to wake you. It was hard, even through his gritted theet, he could not help but groan. 

You rubbed your eyes, barely able to get words out of yourself. ¨Hey, hey, hey dont move¨.

All his feelings of gratitude and desire to prove he was a better man were quickly overrun by annoyance at his own aching body, ¨I know¨, his back was facing you. 

¨But I gotta piss¨. His voice was rough and a little aggressive, you just sighed and laid back on the bed.

The blond may not have evolved, but you sure had. You matched his passive aggression and just stayed there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Some time ago, you´d have force fed him painkillers and treated him carefully, but that wasnt you anymore. Not the sober you anyways.

So, after a couple tries, he had no choice but to ask for your assistance. ¨Help me up?¨. A few second of deafening silence. ¨Please¨

Your lips stil sealed and half asleep, you went to his side and let him use you as a crouch. Jax heavily leaned on you, trying hard to keep silent. Determined to pretend he was fine. 

There was a flaw on his plan, he needed your help to make it to the bathroom.

Based on experience this was just his body warming up, after a little movement he´d be all right on his own. Almost.

¨Feels like a truck run me over¨, he tried to joke. His shitty morning attitude had bothered you so you kept quiet. 

That was until you were halfway to the bathroom and all of his weight was on you, risking his mood worsening, you asked. ¨Want me to get one of the boys?¨

That struck a nerve, someone seeing him weak? No way. He tensed up and stopped walking. 

¨I can do it myself¨, you could barely hear him through his gritted teeth. 

Fearing your reaction if you pushed it, you scoffed and urged him to keep moving. He played it tough, stubborn as he was. Anyone couldve been able to tell that he was in a lot of pain.

Jax looked at your face for the first time when he leaned on the doorframe, his voice was soft when he spoke, even if his words were not. ¨I can take it from here¨.

Raising your hands in surrender, you took a step back. Your voice was cold when you said he had more pills on the bedside table.

You left, mad at him, mad at you. Mad. Just plain mad. 

The biker grunted, closing the door and leaning on the sink, knowing had pissed you off. He did look like shit, pale skin and tired eyes. Jax cursed under his breath, he couldnt bear the thought of anyone seeing him like this, not even you. 

Especially not you.

That´s something you´d never been truly quite grasped. It wasnt so much a macho thing, not with you. When it came to you, it wasnt about bravado. It was about making someone he loved suffer, the hurt in your eyes when they went over his bruises, … A hurt he did not know how to comfort. 

You made your way to the kitchen, expecting it to be empty. If the beginning of the morning had been bad, what would come after was way worse. Gemma was sitting down having a coffee, and you couldn´t stop the groan that crossed your lips.

Gemma smiled slyly, the battle you´d won the prior night fresh in her mind. Fake sweetness laces her voice as you made your way to the coffee maker, ¨Well, well, look who it is¨.

¨Yeah, yeah¨. You didnt even bother wasting energy on her, knowing you´d need it with her hot headed son. 

She sipped her coffee as you put sugar on your own. Her sharp eyes studied your every move, looking for the perfect way to get under your skin, to gather the information she needed. 

If you hadnt known her, you´d have thought the concern in her voice was sincere. 

¨You look tired, sweetheart¨.

Again, no fight in you, everything about you was neutral, even your tone. ¨He just woke up¨, you dryly added.

She wanted to know what had happened, where your relationship stood. You wanted to erase the past night from your brain. 

Gemma´s eyes gleamed as she sensed the tension coming off of you. There was no doubt as far as whose fault that was.

¨And how is he?¨. You sat up on the counter, leaning your head back against the cabinets. ¨You know how he is¨.

 She just smirked, sipping from her mug. ¨Stubborn as a damn mule¨.

Silently, you nodded. Eyes closed, head thrown back, you almost felt calm. Almost. The matriarch studied you quietly. If your eyes had been open you would have seen something close to pride on them. Gemma herself had never been able to pinpoint what exactly she disliked about you. Because it was not you . Your personality, she liked, you were fiery. You could handle her son and you perfectly managed with the rest of the men of the club. Had she been honest with herself, you were too good for this life, it dimmed your light. She had seen you around town with your friends, you looked happier when you didnt have a criminal to worry about constantly.

She rested her forearms on the table, cocking her head as she spoke. ¨Can I ask you something?¨.

There was no spite in her words, and her face seemed softer than you could remember ever seeing it.

For a second you played with the idea of her liking you, being there for you when Jax was being an immature jerk or putting himself in danger. You quickly dismissed it, it wouldnt do you any good to dwell on that. 

You sounded almost playful when you answered, ¨I have a feeling youre gonna ask anyways¨.

She chuckled, you both knew each other all too well to be playing this game. ¨Why are you back?¨.

Once again, no bite behind her question, just plain curiosity. You straightened your position on the counter so you could have a proper conversation. ¨Whats your point?¨. No bite didnt mean you were friends of course, you were still weary.

¨Jax´s better off without you¨, she did not seem as sure of this statement as a few seconds before. Your brows furrowed, defending her son was a pivotal point of Gemma. ¨You two arent good for each other…¨.

It felt like she was holding something back, yet you couldnt figure out what it could possibly be. Gemma´s voice was soft when she finished her sentence, ¨…he makes you into something you´re not¨.

She quickly went back to her usual demeanour, leaning back on her chair, ¨You know it and so do I¨.

It somehow felt like you were walking into something, but not a trap, not exactly. You moved from your spot on the counter to a chair in front of Gemma, and took a sip of coffee before giving into whatever was happening. 

¨What´s that supposed to mean? He makes me into something I´m not?¨. You knew, you agreed, and your eyes reflected it.

But this could not be played as a bonding moment between the two of you, neither of you were ready to navigate that type of relationship. 

¨My boy turns you into a mess, all upset and emotional¨, she eyed your face up and down, ¨exhausted¨. 

Well, yeah, you were stressing over Jax, you´d done that for the whole time you´d dated. What else were you supposed to do when your boyfriend was VP of a literal gang? You worry, that's what you do.

On the other hand, she was right and you couldnt deny it. He turned you into an unstable version of yourself, a not-so-cheery you, … No one could deny that after the initial shock when the breakup happened, you´d had a glow up. It wasnt something physicall, it was all of you. You were relaxed, you were happier. Even if you missed Jax and the bad days felt like absolute shit. If you were honest with youself, that was normal after losing someone important in your life, not a sign that you truly wanted to get back with him.

Gemma could see the turmoil of doubt in your eyes, and maye a little bit of her in you? Getting pregnant had played an important part on her staying with her first husband but what wouldve happened if she hadn´t? And what would happen to you if you stayed? She knew how the club corrupted everyone it touched, and you had managed to escape that once.  Would you be lucky enough to do it twice?

She got up and, before leaving, she added, ¨You already spend your days nursing people back to health¨. You didnt need to be doing it as an extracurricular activity too…

Alone in the kitchen, you finished your coffee, a million thoughts racing in your head. It got too much and you needed space from anything to do with the club. Rushing to the room, you mentally checked where you had left your clothes and purse the night before. 

The room was not empty, he was in the bed. It didnt take long to notice he was asleep. Thank god. 

The pills were nowhere to be seen, so he would not wake up. You hopped in the shower, the hot water numbing your thoughts. Alone in the bathroom, Gemma´s words resonated with you. You forcefully tried to stop that train of thought when your heart started to beat faster and faster. 

Somewhere deeep inside you, you wanted to push Jax away, to protect yourself. He still had a grip on your heart, but that only meant he could still hurt you. What had ahppened last night after all? What had happened this morning?

You dry yourself and put your leggings back on, the shirt still smells like Jax when it goes over your head. You pretend it doesn´t affect you. You grab a gym bag from Jax´s closet and put all of your things inside it.

The tought that leaving with so much of his stuff would probably mean at least another call does cross your mind. You quickly banish it as you put on your heels, not having another shoe option. 

Jax looks innocent when he´s sleeping, no tension on his face, you place a kiss on his cheek. A goodbye? You did not know. 

You chuckle when you look at your outfit on the mirror, the true definition of a walk of shame.

Breathing deeply, you look at him one last time, and walk out. On your way to look for a taxi, you come across Gemma.

No words are exanged, but your eyes are enough. For both of you. It was never about hatred. 

Anxiety swarms your mind as you exit the Sons´ property, would you ever be sure that this had been the right decision? 

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[sparxwrites]

(set during the s7 mayor arc) cw domestic abuse

“He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.”

Bdubs has been saying that to himself a lot, lately. It helps him to remember, when things get difficult. And things have been getting difficult quite a lot, lately.

It’s his fault, of course. He knows it’s his fault. If he wasn’t so difficult, things wouldn’t get so difficult. He makes everything complicated. He knows this. He can be annoying, he knows – brash, arrogant, mouthy. Too loud. Too much. Of course things get difficult around him. Of course they do.

“He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.”

He doesn’t dare say it too loudly. There’s probably no one else in the City Hall at six A.M. on a Sunday, but if there is, he doesn’t want them to hear. Doesn’t want them asking questions. Questions like what are you doing in Mayor Scar’s office (cleaning, of course, someone has to keep the place tidy and it’s not going to be Joe now, is it?) or what’s that on your head (a bandage, obviously). There’s usually annoying follow-up questions to that one, too, like why is there a bandage on your head (because he hit his head, duh).

So he keeps his voice down. He keeps his mantra quiet. He tries not to think about getting caught; tries not to think about who would be worst to be caught by. Mayor Scar, maybe. Or Cub. Who Mayor Scar is definitely not having sex with. Because Mayor Scar told him that, personally, and very insistently, just last night. And Mayor Scar wouldn’t lie to him. Mayor Scar is always kind and truthful to him. Mayor Scar is so, so patient with him, always. Even when Bdubs is being difficult.

“He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.”

Bdubs tells himself that as he runs a cloth for the final time over the windowsill. As he sets the potted plants back on the clean wood, rearranges the kitschy decorations there – a framed diamond, a tiny cat statue, a little ceramic snail. There. Done. Everything clean; everything back in its rightful place. Order restored. He’s served so, so well.

He takes the time to look over the Mayor’s office one last time, before he leaves. Out the window, the sky is the pink-orange of morning, the sun just barely rising. It gleams off the freshly-cleaned windowsill, polished to a shine. There’s a crack in the bottom-left window pane, spiderwebbing through the glass. 

The window is perfectly clean too, of course – Bdubs is a hard worker, dedicated, and for all of his other flaws he serves Mayor Scar so, so well – but it’s pretty hard to clean cracks in a window. There’s some grime he didn’t quite managed to buff out, caught in the very splintering centre of it all. 

The light catches the imperfections at just the right angle. For a moment, just until a cloud scuds across the newborn sun, the whole thing glows the jewelled brown-red of recently dried blood.“He loves me,” Bdubs whispers to himself, once more, just for luck. “He loves me. He loves me.”

[taegularities]

just thinking thoughts

[stemacademics]

small update

ok so um I got my number theory paper today, and the TA had cut marks for me because i left the answer at 66^2 and not 4356 (fermat's little theorem) 😔 I even wrote the full proof

my friend told me I should mail the TA about this, I got 14/20 and should be getting 17or18/20 😔

scores aside, number theory is so much fun, so much fun. the only good thing here is that I know the concepts well, and I fully knew the paper (still fucked it up, because I'm so frickin slow while writing and time). and it hurts worse because there's not enough proof that validates my knowledge. which in turn makes me question if i actually do have any.

I am, in general, a person who does well in concepts but screws up the exams (70% of the time) and I'm trying, I'm trying to get myself out of this "exam paniK" that I often spiral into, just minutes before the exam. I hope I change and grow; I hope, I hope.

[cunninghamchrissie]

“My eyes are up here, Cunningham.”

Eddie breaks Chrissy's reverie, and she blushes a delicious shade of pink that he wants to lick off her face, the finger she was gnawing on falling to her lap.

“Where’d you go just then?” he chuckles.

“Nowhere! You just, uhm.” She clears her throat, still unable to look away from him. More specifically, his body. “That outf–the clothes. Uhm. It looks really good.”

And, really, it’s the worst thing she could’ve told him, because Eddie gets that insufferable slow grin on his face, eyes narrowing in mischief.

“Yeah?” he teases, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and popping his hip, all cockiness. “Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?”

Any other day, Chrissy would roll her eyes fondly, maybe giggle his name if they were in public, but he just looks so hot in his red plaid shirt and leather jacket, her thighs can't help but press together to try and alleviate the ache already settling there.

"I guess I'll let you objectify me like I'm nothing but a piece of meat," Eddie sighs dramatically, not missing the movement of her legs. "But only because I love you."

If Chrissy starts wearing his shirt to bed when she's alone and comes faster than she ever has because it still smells like him, that's nobody's business but her own.

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

Who said anything about cosplay I'm just sad I don't have a suit of armour :3 (specifically my hair is longer but a lil darker than hers)

Was just talking out loud about things I know and how I would go about replicating it in a way that would look decent and end up being MUCH lighter than real plate, but I do understand and share your despair over not having a fitted suit of armor.

However her plate being fairly understated and far more practical than your standard fantasy series armoring is my reason for thinking making it wouldn't be too hard. The simplicity of the plate's geometry and that the plates are solid pieces rather than being interlocked together and few plates are layered over top of each other means actually designing and planing out a manufacturing approach would be quite straight forward.

Looking at the image I used in my initial post about her which is official art of her I am counting twenty to twenty-five parts to achieve the full look of the armor along with keeping your range of motion, non of which are incredibly massive and the curves look fairly standard so Id be willing to say the entire plate set could be forged on a standard anvil. Granted I am a machinist and never have done any real forging work though I have done a lot of research on the skill set as I would like to learn the skill one day. Currently the only smithing work i've ever done is cold straightening some steel and aluminum parts without needing to be concerned for how their surface finish came out.

[nocentis]

Light of the Cove ┆ AU

Name: Jellal Fernandes Age: 29 Home Planet: Evra Status: Intergalactic Fugitive, Vagrant Affiliations: Pyk'ryan Rebel Faction Occupation: Defense Pilot, Supplier Classification: Carbon-based sentient life-form; bipedal, mammalian

Background: The universe at large has been dominated by the Lythrum for thousands of years.

Jellal spent many of his formative years helping to organize and direct his planet's department of defense. When his home was invaded, he helped lead the resistance against the Lythrum army. Unfortunately, the Evran Allied Forces were outnumbered and, subsequently, overpowered. His home was instated under Lythrum rule, and he, among many of his peers, was taken prisoner.

A select few of the Evran people inherited the ability to control the fundamental elements involved in nuclear fusion, such as helium and, eventually, hydrogen. Jellal was one of these generational Evrans, and as such, was the subject of study for a handful of years whilst held in captivity.

The prison ship which held him passed through a highly volatile, atypical magnetic field, which disrupted their technology and caused a shipwide blackout. During this blackout, Jellal managed to escape using an emergency pod and assigned his landing to the nearest heavenly body.

After nearly a week of drifting through the dense vacuum of space, breaking two days' rations into smaller and smaller pieces, his pod finally met the surface of a kingdom-sized asteroid. An ostensibly abandoned Lythrum outpost lay a few miles from where he landed, so he mustered what little of his strength remained, and he suited up for the journey, expecting to scavenge more supplies. When he stumbled through the outpost, he was met with hostility from its occupants — Pyk'ryan Rebel Captain Ynxa and their crew.

Over time, Jellal proved his credibilty to Ynxa and their crew, and joined the Rebellion as an official member. Due to his Evran stature, he became one of their main suppliers, often sneaking into Coves and "borrowing" precious supplies — namely fuel and advanced technologies — from especially heinous fugitives to stoke his rebel faction.

Lythrum: A bipedal mammalian species most often known for their cruel and destructive nature. Most Lythrum have thick skin with short, fine fur in a range of red-yellow hues. Their ears are typically long and pointed, though they come in a range of shapes and sizes. They might be described as fox-like by humans.

Cove: An intergalactic black market typically found on asteroids or small heavenly bodies far outside of claimed star systems. These markets are unregulated and often avoided by Lythrum forces, but they are lawless wastelands wherein there is no true authority and no protection.

[torgawl]

a bit obsessed with the idea of kusakabe dying as a form of sacrifice to specifically protect/save somebody else. it's consistent enough with the theme of the past generation achieving no meaningful feats against significant threats but it's also ironic enough that someone without a technique and who claims their philosophy is primarily self-sacrificial - although he tends to stay from his own ideals in critical moments, proving he's not only brave when necessary but he does have a sense of responsabilty and guilt - ultimately redeems themselves through death resulting in the achievement of something his colleagues have failed to do. not that i'm wishing for him to die, i hope he doesn't. but it would also make a clear-cut distinction between him and a character like mei mei, who narratively serves a very similar purpose (besides her being a foil to nanami). to have someone be awarded by their selfishness just for it to not be worth much within a world and system that runs and sustains itself due to the sorcerer's labour power, whose only means of subsistence is to sell themselves away. a class of people who is doomed no matter what path they choose to take, as long as they do not break free from their duties and as long as the system doesn't collapse. a death that could serve as a symbol of punishment towards solidarity and altruism but a win for revolution.