#this one is just a tired and headache post but I might leave this in my au notes (I'm planning on maybe making a fic or comic for this)

[cloud-the-forgotten]

Loop but they actually have a secret mouth (they don't know that though) and just don't need to eat anymore.

Loop figuring out how to use their star head to blind people on purpose (they only used to do it on accident) and immediately use it to blind someone when that person says/does something they don't like.

Loop finally figuring out they have a mouth when Bonnie tries to feed them food and Loop goes "well it wouldn't hurt to try" (they miss Bonnie's cooking *cough*) and actually takes a bite out of it.

The first thing Loop does after discovering they have a mouth is turn around and bite Siffrin. And then bite him again. This becomes a biting war. Nobody knows if it's serious or playful.

Loop becoming the best way to ambush a sadness by blinding it and then immediately biting it (possibly to death). The rest of the group (Isabeau, Mirabelle, Bonnie, and Odile) stares at Loop, then at Siffrin, and go 'Yeah, we're gonna need more stuff for these two to chew on.' 'You guys really shouldn't be biting Sadnesses?? We don't know what they've touched???' 'Wow that seems like something Frin would do' '... Huh.'

Cue both Siffrin and Loop sweating nervously.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy

-

for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.

what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.

and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.

even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.

your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.

you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.

how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!

you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.

the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.

you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.

but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.

you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.

but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?

you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.

huh?

you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.

you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.

you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.

your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.

"morning, sleepyhead."

you tilted your head.

"caleb?" you whispered.

"surprised?"

you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.

"what are you-"

"hey."

his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.

"pipsqueak, are you sick?"

you jolt, looking off to the side.

"not really, its just—"

you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.

"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"

"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.

"that's—"

"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.

"just the past two days.."

"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"

"it was just a sore throat at first!"

"and you're telling me this is still just that?"

before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.

you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.

"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.

"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."

"that's okay, i wanted to—"

"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."

he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.

you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.

he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.

luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.

which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.

just like he used to.

-

"that's way too many, caleb!"

"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."

"is this really necessary??"

"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"

"no.."

"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"

"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"

"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"

"caleb!"

you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.

"fine, fine, here."

one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.

"how about now?"

you deadpan.

"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.

"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."

you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.

"do i really—"

"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."

you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.

caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.

"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.

you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.

"bless you."

you pout at him.

he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

"eat."

"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.

the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.

in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.

you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.

once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.

"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"

you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.

he grins.

always so cute...

"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"

you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.

"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"

"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.

"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.

you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.

no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.

his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.

"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"

"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.

"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"

you sniffle. he did have a point...

"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"

"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."

you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.

you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.

"caleb! i could've—"

"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."

you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.

"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."

"maybe cause you missed me so much?

"yeah, maybe."

his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.

"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"

"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."

he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.

"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"

"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."

you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.

"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.

"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.

"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"

"c-caleb!"

he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.

"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.

"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.

"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.

he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.

he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.

"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"

"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.

"and comfy. smells like you..."

even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.

"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.

in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.

he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.

"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."

even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.

so long as you were under caleb's care, you would be okay; that was something he would always make sure of.

-

extra:

half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.

it was a message from a friend of his.

wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.

grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.

can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~

aw, next time, then!

he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.

"can't i rest near you?"

you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.

his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.

silly girl...

there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—

whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.

always.

and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.

-

a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!

[yoditopascal]

Sweetest Pie

summary: The Worst Logan isn’t so bad after all. (logan/wolverine x fem black reader)

content warning: Wade is your best friend that’s a warning all on its own, some angst (like literally the tiniest bit) cussing, mutual pining, making out, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, dirty talking? (I’m so bad at writing it lmaoo), creampie, actual pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), dacryphilia, post DP&W, breaking the bed, scent kink, overstimulation, he technically sniffs your underwear??, Deadpool being Deadpool, MINORS DNI

a/n: The Sweetest Pie by Megan the Stallion is playing in the background while y’all fuck, that’s all.

tag list: @allmyn1ghts @figsnpassionfruits @dragonqueen89 @shebby-the-webby

Ducking down out of the way, Wade just barely makes it out of the line of fire as a glass mug hits the wall behind him, shattering on impact.

“You wanna run that by me again bub?”

“That was my favorite mug!”

“Repeat what you fucking said!” He snarls, hand balled into tight fists, it’s taking everything in his power not to maul the idiot with his claws….again

“All I said was you're more pent up than a nun doing squats in a cucumber field!” Wade said looking back at the wall, there was already a dent forming, one of many that had been popping up since the older mutant had decided to move in with him.

It's been 3 months since Logan started living with Wade and Blind Al and he’s about fucking had it. Laura had moved out after the first month, needing her own space, but she still frequently visited, he honestly was tempted to join her but figured she wouldn’t want her old man around all the time cramping her style.

Logan could feel a headache coming on as he pinched the bridge of his nose as Wade spoke again.

“You, my little honey badger, are lacking in the hanky panky department and no amount of self loving in the bathroom mirror at midnight is gonna fix that.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asked, sometimes he felt like instead of forming actual sentences Wade just put a bunch of random shit together so he could hear himself speak.

“Oh my gooood you’re so old, I’m talking about sex grandpa, you know, fucking? The horizontal hula? Bumping uglies? Filling the cream donut?”

“Stop.” Logan said with a look of disgust.

“I can smell your sexual frustration from here.” Wade groaned. “You need to spend a little less time brooding around the house like you're a DC character, and maybe spend a little more time doing hot yoga.” He was as he holds up a finger and boops Logan on the nose.

Logan swats his hand away but Wade continues paying no mind to his attitude as he points toward the front door.

“It just so happens that I know a great friend o’ mine who’d have absolutely no problems taming the beast for you bub and oh look at that, she happens to live right across the hall.” He said with a wink

“Don’t bring her into this.” Logan said, waving him off as he went to sit on the couch. Unfortunately Wade knew exactly how he felt about you, having figured it out during their whole ordeal with his variants, Paradox and Cassandra and the bastard had yet to let him live it down.

“Come on Wolvie you can cut the sexual tension you two have with a knife, it’s so thick!” He groans again, throwing himself on the couch beside him dramatically. “It might even be thicker than ours!” Wade said as he leans on Logan’s shoulder fluttering his scarred eyes at him. He shrugs him off, turning the tv on hoping the sound of whatever was on would drown him out but Wade just kept going.

“Stop being a pussy and talk to her!”

“Oh like how you talked to Vanessa?” He snapped back, his anger reaching its limit.

“First of all, we’re a working progress right now and second of all, ouch! Who hurt you?”

Growing tired of Wade and his endless jabbering Logan stood going to grab his jacket from the closet so he could leave.

“Where are you huffing and puffing off too big bad wolf?”

“Anywhere but here.” He said slamming the door shut behind him.

After a few drinks at Sister Margaret's and time to cool his head, Logan returns home to get some chores out of the way. He was far over due to wash his stuff and his hero costume was really starting to fuck with his nose, so, shoving a few handfuls of quarters from Al’s disco dust fund jar into his pockets,he loaded up his hamper and heads down to the laundry room in the basement.

Upon entering he almost immediately bumps into you. You were kicking the dryer when he found you, pissed because it ate your quarters, not paying attention to your surroundings at all.

Digging around in his pockets he bumps his shoulder to yours to get your attention. Startled you nearly jumped out of your skin as he held a hand up in surrender, not meaning to scare you.

“Sorry, just thought I’d offer up some of mine.” He said, pulling a handful of change from his back pocket.

“Oh. that’s ok, I’m-” you start but are stopped when he grabs your hands with one of his and unceremoniously dumps the change into your palms.

“I wasn’t suggesting, take 'em I got more than enough.”

With a silent nod you thank him as he shrugs you off with a “Don’t mention it.”

Logan starts to load up his laundry into the washer next to yours, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you toss your wet clothes into the dryer. You don’t notice as a piece of yellow fabric falls to the floor between you, Logan turns his head to say something, at first not realizing what it was, until it dawns on him that, holy shit, it's a pair of your underwear…and they had Wolverine on them.

They were boxer briefs, nothing inherently sexy about them, but the scent they gave off, clean laundry soap mixed with the smell of your core had Logan reeling.

A small smirk crawled across his face as he started to imagine you wearing them around your house, nothing else adorning your body except for an oversized tee shirt that looked eerily like one of his own, he thought it was cute. Turning his head back to finish his task he kept loading his clothes not showing interest in the underwear to keep from making things awkward. One thing he couldn't deny was your scent. The scent of your core that lingered on the fabric was making his head swim, it was utterly intoxicating, this definitely didn't help with growing his frustration.

After he loaded the washer he pulled a flask from his pocket taking a shot of liquor inside to compose himself as he realized you still hadn’t noticed you dropped them. “You uh dropped something sweetheart.” he nodded towards them. Horrified, you snatch them up and throw them in the dryer.

“Oh god I-I’m sorry! I-“ you start to stutter, at a complete loss for words you slam the dryer lid close and grab your basket ready to leave and hide away in your apartment for the rest of your life until Logan stops you with a strong hand that engulfs your wrist.

“No I-uh I get it. He was your hero right?”

“Yeah he was… but so are you!” You started but quickly press a fist to your forehead in frustration.

“Sorry I don’t want you to feel like you're obligated to live up to him or anything, you’re your own person! I just-“ you were interrupted by Logan closing the distance between you. In your frustration a few of your locs had slipped from your ponytail and were hanging in your face. Logan reached towards you moving one from your face tucking it behind your ear, his bright hazel eyes scanning you carefully taking in your features with a smirk.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, your scent was sending his sensing into overdrive, he could smell your sweat mixed with the soap you used with the spicy aroma of your arousal starting to peek through.

You look down to the ground still slightly embarrassed but mostly warm from the close proximity before you feel a finger lift your chin causing your gaze to meet Logan’s once more. “S-sorry I ramble when I’m nervous.” It came out almost as a whisper, causing Logan to chuckle. It was an annoying habit you had picked up from your best friend Wade over the years he noticed. The intensity of his stare was starting to send your stomach into knots but not in a bad way.

The sound of the laundry room door opening and closing as another tenant enters quickly separates them. Silently the pair looked away from each other as the tenant loaded up his belongings in the open washer. He quickly spared a passing glance between the two of you who awkwardly tried to stare at anything but each other before shrugging his shoulders and leaving.

An awkward silence blanket over the two of you as you shuffle your feet before you scooped up your basket again.

“Listen Logan-“

“Darlin I-“

You both started at the same time. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest causing your cheeks to feel warm. You smiled down at your feet and tucked another stray loc behind your ear before Logan spoke again.

“You first.”

“I was just gonna ask, did you maybe wanna come over for dinner tonight?”

Logan thought of a million different reasons why he shouldn’t. As if you could see the hesitation across his face you spoke up again.

“Before you say no, I got booze. Something a bit stronger than what I normally drink but it’s right up your alley. It was a gift from Wade.”

Of course it was from Wade.

“I’m also making pie.”

Well shit.

He let out a small sigh, looking down at your big pleading doe eyes before he shrugged; “Sure,why not.” Afterall how could he say no to you when you looked like that?

He could almost imagine Wade fist pumping the air in excitement at the aspect of the two spending alone time together, the blubbering idiot.

You flashed Logan another bright smile before heading to leave, you paused in the doorway for millisecond, before asking “See you at 7?”

“It’s a date doll.”

Seven o’clock rolled around much too quickly for either of them. Logan was busy fussing with his hair in the mirror trying to get the tufts of hair that usually stick up to lay down when Wade walked into the bathroom unceremoniously.

“Don’t you look positively ravishing tonight, got a hot date peanut?”

“Fuck off.” He growls, giving up with his hair and going to throw on a flannel over his wife beater.

“Wait, you do! Holy dick cheese Batman it’s finally happening!” Wade squealed excitedly

“What the hell are you even doing in here?” Logan asked in the doorway of the bathroom observing Wade, he was dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of hello kitty pajama pants and slippers, Logan rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Had to take a shit, thanks for asking, but don’t change the subject!” Wade said following him into the kitchen “Who’s the lucky gal?” He asked leaning on the island, his head propped dreamily on his fist. “Or guy we don’t judge here. Wait wait wait! It's not who I think it is, is it?”

Logan didn’t say anything as he guzzled down his drink pre-gaming for the night, turning to grab another from the fridge before plopping down on the couch behind him.

At his silence Wade kicked his feet and clapped his hands excitedly, swinging around in his seat to look at Logan. Mary Puppins barked from her spot on the couch beside him.

“Fuck the Bachelorette and Love Island! The producers are going to make a killing outta this!” He paced excitedly flopping down beside him struggling to keep his composure. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?! We are gonna make millions, no fuck that billions off your sex tape alone! I mean you two love birds are going to blossom in internal passion as the stars align with the future of the virgin Mary!” He said hugging Logan from the side.

Confused as fuck he shrugs Wade off him with a frown as he stands to his feet looking at his roommate with a raised brow. Downing the last of his beer he puts the empty bottle on the counter and heads for the door not wanting to be late.

“Oooh don’t forget to wear a condom, peanut! Remember wrap it before you tap it, before you attack her wrap your whacker! And if you’re not gonna sack it, come home and-!“

Logan slams the door shut before Wade could finish anymore of his bullshit.

He raised his hand to knock at your door but hesitated for a moment. Memories of the you from his timeline flooded his brain for a brief moment and he lowered his hand. He had really fucked you over royally in his own timeline and then you had died before he had a chance to fix that. Was he even worth your time in this one?

He shook the thoughts from his head and squared his shoulders, this was his second chance, a chance to fix all the shit he messed up before and he’d be damned if he was gonna waste this opportunity.

Just as he raised his hand to knock again you tore the door open with wide eyes.

“Logan hi!”

“Hey- you ok kid? You look outta breathe.” He questioned looking you up and down in concern while also unabashedly checking you out.

“Y-yeah I’m sorry I was about to come over and ask Wade if I could borrow something but I-it’s fine come on in!” you said ushering him in before the door behind you both.

The inside of your apartment is cute. The layout is much the same as his own place that he shares with Wade and Blind Al but yours just felt a little more homey to him.

Movie posters and works of art decorated your walls, there was a bookcase in the living room full of all kinds of books and knick knacks that you had collected over the years. On a table by the tv was a record player with a decent sized stack of vinyls. The whole place just screamed you.

“Dinner’s just about ready!” You said drawing his attention back to you. You had changed clothes since he last saw you in the laundry room, your outfit hugging your soft curves in all the right places.

“I was comin’ over to see if Wade had some ice cream for the pie, but I guess we could go without it.” You said leading him into the dining room with a smile, you’re always smiling at him, he noticed. “I hope you like blueberry!”

Logan never thought he'd see the day where someone would cook a nice meal for him let alone the variant of someone he treated so callously before.

He winced internally trying not to think about that. He was here now, not in his old shitty universe where you were gone, but in a new one, one where he had friends, a daughter, a family. It was a chance to start over.

“Sounds great darlin, I’m starving.”

Once you sit down for dinner Logan immediately tucks in, he could smell what you were cooking hours ago from across the hall and damn if it wasn’t the best thing he ever put in his stomach.

The two of you made light conversation as you ate, you poured yourself a glass of wine while Logan had the hard stuff, single malt scotch on the rocks. It had been a gift from Wade after one of his missions, an expensive one at that, and Logan savored every drop of it.

After a few more drinks the pair cleared their empty plates, wrapping up the leftovers of their meal up in portions so Logan could take some home with him. You were pulling the pie from the oven when you heard the telltale sound of running water, looking over you see Logan, rolling up his sleeves with a dish towel draped over his shoulder as he started to do the dishes.

You bite your lip to physically keep from moaning and embarrassing yourself on the spot, domesticity looked damn good on him.

His nose twitched as he smelled your arousal spike for a second, thinking it better to keep that to himself he shifted on his feet as he dried a dish and put it on the rack.

“You don’t have to-“ You started pulling off your oven mitts. They were Star Wars themed, nerdy like the rest of your apartment.

God you were such a geek! You thought flustered, while shoving them onto the counter behind you.

“Nah you cooked, it’s the least I could do.” He said not moving from his spot at the sink

“Logan.” You said firmly placing a hand on your hip. “You’re a guest.”

“And you cooked.” He reiterated,cocking an eyebrow your way. “I’m not budging on this darlin.”

You sigh defeatedly as you grab the towel from his shoulder. “Fine, at least let me help.”

The two of you do the dishes in silence, him washing and you drying, your fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“Dinner was great.” Logan said awkwardly trying to break the stifling silence that enveloped you.

“Good I’m glad you liked it.” You smiled down at your hands timidly, refusing to let him see you cheesing as hard as you were.

“Sorry for not being better company, I know you’re more used to people talkin’ your ear off.”

Wade begrudgingly crosses his mind.

"I'm just uh not so good with people. Makes me anxious.” He admitted, it took a lot for him to come out and say it but he was comfortable with you, he trusted you.

“I get it, I’m the same way that’s why I’m always around Wade. He usually does all the talking for me.” You say fondly thinking back to all the times Wade had been your emotional support extrovert.

Logan honestly had no idea how you put up with him.

“Besides I think your company’s just fine Logan, I like having you around.”

I like being around you too, he wanted to say but he couldn’t get it out. Instead he settled for brushing his shoulder against yours, a small smile dancing across his features as you smiled back up at him.

Flicking the water from your hand as you both finished up, you dry your hands on another rag before offer it up to Logan, his fingers brushing against yours for the umpteenth time that night.

When you look up he’s staring at you, his eyes taking in your features again, flickering between your face and your mouth. You can’t quite place what the emotion is behind his eyes but it makes your belly feel warm and your chest flutters.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you both had, though you know for a fact it takes a whole hell of a lot more than what you had to get you both drunk, but you could have sworn he was getting closer to you.

You start to back up just as he moves to close the distance between you. Chest to chest, or more like chest to sternum as he was almost a whole foot taller than you, Logan starts to lean down sniffing you as your back hits the counter behind you.

“Your heart’s racing.” He says

You had almost completely forgotten about his heightened senses. You were so nervous this whole evening, hoping that everything would go right, could he hear you this whole time? Oh god could he smell you?

“You smell good too.” He says moving to stroke your face with the back of his hand, confirming your fears. You clench your legs together tightly, hoping to at least dampen the smell of how wet you were becoming, causing him to chuckle.

“No use hiding it doll, I can smell you from a mile away.” He said leaning down so that his face is closer to yours.

“Logan…” you whisper. His eyes never leaving your mouth.

“Hm?”

“T-the pie…” You stuttered nervously as your own eyes drifted down to his mouth. You worked so hard on the pie you didn’t know if you’d hate it more if it went to waste or if he moved away from you at that moment.

You wanted more than anything for him to stay where he was, caging you in at the counter like a frightened little mouse.

“It can wait sweetheart.” He said, finally claiming your lips as his own.

He pulls back for a moment to look at you, dipping to place a gentle peck on your lips, as if he’s asking if this is ok.

You wrap your arms around him, dragging his mouth back down to yours, he moves his hands to the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto the counter behind you, grinding himself into you as the kiss deepens.

Logan hesitates in the kiss for a moment, pulling himself away from you as if he realizes something. When you try to lean back in and kiss him again he stops you, holding you at arm’s length searching your eyes for something, anything he could use to make you hate him in this timeline like you undoubtedly did in his old one but he found nothing but adoration.

“You-“ he starts to speak, his voice a little shaky “You don’t want this sweetheart, I’m not a good man.”

I’m not your hero, he meant to say.

You place a hand on his cheek rubbing softly at his mutton chops with your thumb.

“Please stop telling me what I fucking want.” You say leaning back in to peck at his lips. “I want you, not a hero, or this timeline’s Logan, or any other Logan out there, just you. You’re not the Worst Logan, you're just you and I want all of you.” You finish while leaning up into him, waiting for his response.

Raising an eyebrow and at a complete loss for words, having rarely heard you cuss, Logan smirks before leaning back down to meet you the rest of the way recapturing your lips with a “Yes ma’am.”

His right hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently running the pad of his thumb over the skin before running his hand up to weave his finger through your locs.

You hop off the counter, grabbing him by his flannel your mouth reconnects with his as you lead him into your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him.

You start to kiss down his jaw before Logan stops you with a growl. He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed before his lips reconnect with yours.

His hands find their way under your clothes to paw at you, as you free him from the confines of his flannel. Tossing it behind him, it hits your iPod dock causing music to start playing but neither of you care, too enraptured in each other to even notice. Logan pulls away from your mouth only long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his hands trailing down to pull down your pants and underwear next.

He grabs you by your hips dragging you to the edge of the bed, as he kneels down in front of you, eye level with your hot core.

You throw your head back with a moan at the first drag of his tongue. Your legs finding their way around his shoulders as he drags his nose and tongue up and down teasing you.

He presses his mouth against your clit, sucking on it before pulling away and flicking it with his tongue, drawing circles and nipping at it with his teeth.

Watching you through dark lashes, he drags his hand down your body bringing it to his mouth, he licks his finger, bringing it to your wet cunt as he slowly begins to move it in and out of you, curling it against your gummy walls searching until he finds the right spot. You let out a strangled half-sob as he leans back down pressing his mouth against your clit again, sucking and flicking at the hard nub.

“Shit,” you rasp out, reaching out for him. He knew you were getting close, he could tell from the way you pulsed around him as he added another finger.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your orgasm building. “Please, right there!” You choked, eyes closing as you threw your head back.

“So fucking wet for me already and I barely touched you.” Logan chuckles. You stifled a noise as your impending orgasm builds in your gut.

“I-I’m gonna-!” You start to cry out but are cut off by a sob.

“I gotcha darlin, I’m right here.” He mumbles into your pussy as he reaches his free hand out to hold your hips open for him, your hands frantically bury themselves in his hair, desperate for something to hang on to. He carries on lapping at you as you squirm talking you through your orgasm as he rubbed his nose to your clit, drawing it out of you as his fingers continue to fuck in and out of you.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He sighs as he keeps fucking you on his fingers, his intensity increasing as he latches himself back onto your clit devouring you like a man starved, you come almost instantly. It’s when he looks up at you, hazel eyes dark and hungry, that you finally lose it, your second orgasm of the night ripping through like a freight train.

Standing back to his feet Logan licks your residue from his lips and fingers, chin glistening with your slick.

You sit up immediately grabbing at his belt, fingers rushed and fumbling with the buckle, he replaces your hands quickly unbuckling it before pulling the hem of his shirt up over his head.

Reaching behind you, you free your chest from your bra, just as he kicks his pants off. Logan pushes you backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as he stalks over towards you on his hands and knees.

He inhales deeply through his nose taking in your scent, the aroma of you mixed with your arousal is intoxicating and is driving him absolutely feral, with a wet kiss he bites down hard where your neck and shoulder meet, where your scent’s the strongest, nearly drawing blood, before he’s back on you, covering your mouth with his own kissing you viciously as if you’d fade away from existence if he let you go.

He laps at the spot he had previously bitten you as he slowly pulls away, soothing the skin there. The mark was already gone, thanks to your healing factor, but god you could still feel it and you secretly ached that he’d do it again.

You soon feel the head of his cock running along your folds, it’s thick, and hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick hole. Then without warning he’s pushing into you, sheathing himself inside of you with a single thrust.

Logan threw his head back with a loud groan. He promised himself he’d go slow with you, take his take opening you up for him but fuck if this didn’t feel right, good it felt oh so good.

“Fuck” he grunts out into your mouth as he drops his head down to drag you into a hard smoldering kiss swallowing your moans as he sinks in fully.

He lets you adjust for a few moments before he pulls back and thrusts into you instinctively, repeating the harsh action as he begins to slowly pick up his pace. If you had been completely human, the force of his thrusts would’ve surely shattered your pelvis or at least threw them out of alignment.

Reaching up to grab onto the headboard of your bed to anchor himself Logan locks in fully, gripping the wood bar in a death grip as he pushes into you. You reach up too, grabbing a handful of sheets by your head with one hand and his hips with the other, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as Logan’s brutal pace has you reeling.

“L-Logan!” you cry out, body shaking from the force of his thrusts. His cock sinking deeper and deeper as he angles your legs over his shoulders, hitting that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly making your legs tremble in unadulterated pleasure.

An audible crack is heard from where Logan is still holding onto your headboard but you both could careless, your heads completely clouded over with lust.

Just when you were starting to think it was all too much, his thumb finds your clit again and starts to rub fierce quick little circles.

“Gimme one more darlin.” His voice is strained and rough, as he leans down to your neck inhaling your scent again as he licks up to your neck nipping at your jaw and neck as he pulls away.

You scrambled to get away, pushing at his chest as the over sensitivity was proving to be too much.

Logan lets go of the headboard and grabs both your hands with his much larger one, locking them firmly to his chest right over his rapidly beating heart.

“Don’t try and run from me kid, you wanted this remember?” He chuckled darkly, picking up his pace even more if that were possible.

Tears stream steadily down your cheeks as your barreling toward your next orgasm, it’s here, with your hair fanned out around your head, cheeks puffy and tear stained while you pant desperately trying to get away and keep up with him at the same time , that he thinks this is the most beautiful he’s ever seen you.

“Come on my dick, baby.”

Your body completely locks up at his words, your back arching off the bed as you scream, your orgasm wrecking through you as you clench around him like a vice. Logan drops your legs, yanking you up into a messy kiss as he takes you through it.

“Good fucking girl.” He grunts against your lips, he gives you a few moments to come down from your high, burying his face into your neck before he resumes his punishing pace.

You think you’re at your limit as fat tears fall from your eyes, never have you ever felt this good, this full before, it’s far too much for you.

Just as you were about to tap out, he grunts into your neck, his hands move to grip your ass bringing it up to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, tell me where?” He growls out. He wraps an arm around your back bringing you chest to chest as he fucks you on his lap, the new angle making him hit that sweet spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

At first you don’t quite understand what he’s asking, your brain too foggy to comprehend much of anything right now, but as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, nearly drawing blood again, you finally understood, he was close and so were you again.

“Inside, please I wanna feel you.” You whimpered as he pounds into you. He groans at your request and picks up the pace rutting up into you desperately like an animal. His hammering is deep and unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it feels too good to make him stop, you’ll definitely have a hard time walking in the morning.

With one last harsh flick of his thumb to your clit you’re coming hard on his dick, clenching around him as your body quivers uncontrollably, almost blacking out for a moment.

He growls as his hips stutter against your own, as he cums into you, the force of his final thrust knocking you both bad down onto the mattress. Logan thrusts a few more times, pumping his load as deep inside of you as he could, claiming your mouth once again in a deep searing kiss.

You run your hands through his hair as he nearly drops himself on you, his forearms supporting the weight of his adamantium skeleton. He’s still buried inside you as you're peppering his face and neck with light kisses.

It’s quiet for a moment before he lifts himself up, pulling himself from inside you with a grunt. He pushes stray locs from your face as he kisses your forehead and flops over onto the other side of the bed dragging you with him.

At the weight of his adamantium bones dropping down onto the already crack and barely hanging on frame your bed frame finally gives out dropping your mattress to the floor with a loud thud, startling the both of you.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You panted too shocked and tired to move from your spot on his chest.

“Sorry baby, I’ll get you a new one.” Logan laughs lightly as he pulls you to his chest.

A comfortable silence fills the room as the two of you lay on the floor, your breathing starting to return to normal. Leaning down to inhale your scent again Logan’s met with the pleasant tang of you covered in him and pulls you tighter snuggling you into him.

“You still with me?” The rough edge of his voice brings you back to your senses.

You smiled up at him from his chest with a big dopey smile, eyes completely dazed as you answered with an “mm-hm.” Too fucked out to fully speak properly. You laid back down on his chest, eyes closed as you shiver, he runs a hand up and down your spine as you start to drift off.

He chuckles at your response or lack thereof and pulls your sheets over the both of you. The temperature in the room had started to come down dramatically as your sweat covered bodies cooled in the night.

Just as Logan was about to close his eyes and join you in what was hopefully a peaceful night’s rest for the first time in years, your bedroom door bursts open revealing Wade, still clad in his hello kitty pajamas helping himself to a piece of the pie you had left out.

“Jesus Wade!” You yell eyes practically bulging out of your head as you scramble to grip the sheets to your chest.

“What the fuck asshole?!” Logan growled trying his best to shield you from view with his arms. His hazel eyes were seething with anger.

“My sweet virgin eyes!” Wade said, covering his eyes but still peeking through them through a gap in his fingers with a smirk as he chewed loudly. “You two sounded like an indoor jungle gym but instead of a shit ton of kids it's just you two.” He laughs shoving the rest of the slice into his mouth as he moves to sit on the edge of the broken bed on the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You, young lady, have some pipes on you. Could hear you practically singing about the Wolverine.~” he teases with a tsk.

“And you sir!” He points to Logan who growls at him as he swats his hand outta his face. “Where do I even begin?” He tsked again as he shook his head “You really had some pent up frustration didn’t you, you slut? Did you break her? I know she has a healing factor too but good god man have some restraint!” he leans back on her broken bed as he spreads himself out on the end.

“And her poor bed! I hope you're planning on replacing it, bee tee dubs.” Wade rolls over onto his side propping himself up on his elbow at the couple’s feet. “Did he even use a condom?” He whispered to you loudly before adding “Nice tits by the way.” as he winked at Logan. “I don’t think creampie was the type of pie she had in mind when she invited you over for dinner, old man.”

“Who knew Wolverine was a cuddler?”

You roll your eyes at Wade’s antics completely used to him over the years of knowing him but Logan on the other hand had clearly had enough. Ripping the sheets from himself you watch as Logan comically chases Wade out of the room, buck ass naked.

Slamming your bedroom door shut Logan turns the lock with a grunt, finally returning to your side he pulls you back to his chest and flings the sheets over you.

“He’s not so bad, y'know when you get used to him.” You shrug with your eyes closed as you snuggle into his chest. Adrenaline, now dying down, sleep had started to wrap you in its dreamy embrace and it was hard to keep your eyes open.

“That little cockroach is gonna be the death of me.”

You laugh at him one last time before finally drifting off. Your soft snores were the last thing Logan heard as he too snuggled into your warmth and drifted off.

Who knew the Wolverine was such a cuddler.

[rc-writes]

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: spencer reid x bau!reader

warnings: reader has a headache due to accidentally missing lunch

a/n: one more little blurb i've written due to my criminal minds rewatch journey! as of now i unfortunately have no other little blurbs written so i don't want you guys to think this is me suddenly being active a lot again. like i said in my penelope blurb i make no promises of me posting regularly again, but i definitely want/hope to write more! anyways, this blurb is completely inspired by me forgetting food exists for half a day a few weeks ago and getting a massive headache due to it :/ advice of the day kids, eating is important! lol

You and JJ had been on reading files duty for the day which meant being held up in the tiny room the local police station had set up for the team. Usually, it was Garcia who was in charge of digging through the files for potential suspects, but the station was severely behind on digitizing their files so manual reading was what had to be done.

As the day went on you began to have the world's most annoying headache. It wasn't too debilitating that you couldn't push through it to get through the last few files however, so you continued your reading. That was until you also began to feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you suddenly.

The most you had done all day was walk from one side of the table to the evidence board across the small room, so you weren't sure why you were suddenly on the verge of nodding off. If you were out conducting interviews or going over the crime scenes like you usually did, then maybe that would explain some tiredness, but that wasn't the case today.

"Hey, we're back!" Spencer's sudden voice filling the room made you jump out of your thoughts.

"Hi." You replied back with a soft smile, trying to mask the tiredness. "We managed to narrow the suspect pool to five people."

"Garcia is already on searching for anything that might not be in any of these files." JJ added from her spot at the table.

"Hard to believe anything is not in all these files." You joked, laughing. Mid-laugh your voice seemed to falter, the headache deciding to grow stronger at the sudden higher noise level of the room. You tried to mask your voice fading by slowly turning to face the board again, trying your best to massage your forehead a little.

"Hey are you alright?" Spencer asked as he walked closer to you.

"Yeah, yeah." You lied, turning to face him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that I noticed your movements seem to be a bit sluggish. Not- not to say that's a problem considering you've been cooped up in here all day. But also, I noticed you're rubbing circles into your forehead which might be a sign of a headache. Which is actually a good thing to do when you have one because researchers say-" Spencer trailed off when he noticed you bringing your hand up again to your forehead. "Sorry, that's not the point. Are you okay?"

"I've been a little tired and have a minor headache. Nothing too bad, don't worry." You admitted, no point in trying to lie anymore. "I'm not sure why though. It's not like I've done much moving around all day, just flipping through piles of paper." You gestured to the table. It was then that you noticed JJ had left you two to be alone. "But I suppose just sitting here all day could be exactly the reason." 

"It is proven that little movement can have just as much effect as too much movement on the body." Spencer agreed. "To add to that, whatever you ate for lunch today could also have an effect as well."

Spencer then began to ramble about the importance of what kind of food you need to eat for which meal, but you didn't hear much as your own thoughts were racing.

A look of slight horror crossed your face. "Oh god, I didn't even realize I skipped lunch completely."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got so caught up in reading over the suspect files that I didn't want to leave when everyone else went to go get something from the break room. Thought I'd wait until I got done reading this one file, but I must have gotten too distracted and completely forgot to ever actually get up."

"Honey, no wonder you're tired and have a headache then." He reached for your hands. "You haven't eaten since we had breakfast together at the hotel." 

You held onto his hands back. "Yeah, and it wasn't exactly a big breakfast either." You both laughed. "I guess a big dinner is in my future then."

Spencer nodded, smiling. His eyes seemed to light up suddenly, you assumed some sort of idea popped into his head. He then immediately headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

Spencer turned, walking backwards out the room. "To find food! Anything! You need to eat pronto." He bumped into the doorframe before walking completely out the room. From your small frame of vision out the doorway you saw he also nearly bumped into one of the local police officers as he was too focused to notice other people. 

You giggled to yourself at his new sudden mission to find you food. He really would do anything at the drop of a hat for you and you had no idea what you ever did to deserve it. But then you thought about how you'd do the exact same for him and he's said before he didn't deserve someone like you. It truly was a never-ending cycle of caring between you two. 

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 8

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

AN.: Should I post this on AO3? Maybe? Thoughts? Or do you guys like this format??

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7

• ··········· • ············ •

“Drink this.” Viktor placed a steaming white mug filled with a pinkish, translucent liquid. You looked up at him, curious. “Don't worry. It’s just tea.”

Bringing the mug to your lips, the warm liquid filled you with comfort and calmness. It smelled and tasted sweet, but you couldn't place what flavor it was. Your brain was half turned to mush from the meltdown at the memorial.

Viktor had gently dragged you as best as he could to the Academy, not that you were fighting him. There was fuzziness that still lingered in your mind, and although his hand on your wrist felt like it had thorns, your willingness to fight had disappeared, your head tired and foggy.

Once inside the Academy and near the lab door, he silently opened it and led you inside, apologizing for the state of disarray. He had grabbed something from the back of a chair and mentioned a wheeled bench for you to sit in. You did, and he placed a blanket on your shoulders. Heavy, thick wool that smelled of mint and cinnamon.

You laid your head on the table, cheek touching the surface of it, your eyes looking out the window, letting the cold surface relieve you from the headache that was about to burst.

You started drawing runes on the table. You found, at some point during one of your worst nights, that the fluidic movement of the runes calmed you. Sort of like making lists in your head. Unless you intended for it to go free, it only shined for some seconds and dissolved into the air, creating blue embers that floated upwards and disappeared.

Viktor's eyes, you also noticed, behind the blue shimmer, never left the hand or the runes.

Looking around at your surroundings, you found that the lab was indeed a mess. Not that you thought that Viktor as Jayce could ever be tidy. No matter the universe, these two brainiacs have this whole lab in an 'organized chaos' situation.

“Your desk is a mess.” You noted, staring at a pile of blueprints, tools, and papers.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.” He told you quietly without malice.

You turned your head to lay your chin on your arm, looking at him as he sat in front of you, sipping his own cup of tea. A tired chuckle came out of your mouth at the picture of Jayce with a mustache drawing in ink.

“If you were, would you have cleaned up?” You blinked up at him.

“Maybe…” you blinked at him again, raising one eyebrow. He leaned into the table and smiled. “No. Actually, would you mind if I worked? I wasn’t expecting to come back to the lab tonight, but since I’m here... eh... might as well.”

“Pretend I’m not even here.” You told him, once more turning your head to lean your cheek into your arm and look out the window.

“If you want more tea, there’s more in the kettle.” He pointed to a small table next to where you sat that had a kettle and some half-eaten sandwich on top. 

You stared at the window again, waiting for the attack on the memorial to happen. However, by your mental calculations, it should have been done and over with.

Several minutes passed, the only sounds heard being Viktor’s writing and the handling of his current invention. When it was clear nothing was going to happen, you took a deep breath and looked at Viktor. 

(Evelyn Trouble - Made of Rain)

I haven't seen the moon in days... Been so busy changing my ways.

He had taken off his jacket and was hunched over his desk tinkering with something, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a small bandage wrapped around one of his forearms. The dark color of his shirt contrasted beautifully with his pale skin, and you noticed his vest hung open. His hair was a mess, sticking out in all places, especially the little hairs near his neck, the ones he liked to curl when he was thinking. You couldn’t help but give his back a sad smile.

I haven’t cried in forty days. Though inside I am made of rain.

Had this been another time, another place, you’d be leaning into his shoulder blades, annoying him, careful not to hurt him, only heavy enough for him to huff and puff at you being a nuisance. You realize now how much you missed this man.

Oh baby, baby, that’s ok. It has always been this way.

“I can feel you staring.” Viktor remarked, not looking up.

“You have no proof of such accusation.” You moved so you could lean your cheek into your hand.

He touched a magnifying glass the size of your hand with the tip of a screwdriver. It was pointing straight at you. You narrowed your eyes and scoffed, but the corners of your mouth tilted upwards. 

Slowly you rolled the bench towards his desk. The squeaking of the heels announced your movement, making him stop his work to look at you over his shoulder. It took you a comically long amount of time to reach him, making a curious Viktor swivel in his stool to look at what you were doing. Once you arrived, he shook his head and rolled his eyes, moving himself to the side so you could sit next to him.

“I am only allowing you to sit here because this is for your mother.” He announced going back to his calculations.

“Had no idea.” You placed an elbow on the table and leaned into your hand.

“Well, now you know.”

You looked at his desk, noticing the differences between your Viktor and this carbon copy of him. Less coffee mug stains, a lot more little notes, some with actual notes, others with his telltale hatching. His pencil cup was filled with colored pencils and colored chalk. The Viktor you knew was an avid fan of white chalk and charcoal pencils. Under piles of paper, you spotted a newspaper crossword puzzle half made, and on the corner of the desk, a dusty old framed photo of him and Jayce. You knew that photo from Jayce’s desk, not his. 

A purple pencil had rolled over as Viktor tried to reach for it and was about to fall from the table. Instinctively, you used magic to make it roll back to the inventor’s hand with a soft breeze. His neck snapped to look at you.

“What?” You blinked at the quickness of his movement.

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat and went back to his work.

A couple of minutes passed, and he seemed to have forgotten about your illegal use of magic inside the lab he shared with a councilor. You kept watching him work, his deft hands working with small wires and cogs. He was ambidextrous in this dimension. Your Viktor would be jealous.

“Thank you, Viktor.” You began, and he looked at you again, his pencil stopping midway through a note. “And I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” He turned fully to you, his knees bumping into yours. Neither of you moved away.

“You’re going to have to put up with a... healthcare provider...”

“I don’t even think Jayce saw us leave. Besides, you weren’t exactly... able... to leave for yourself. I would not be comfortable if I had just let you walk out in your state.”

“I’m sorry about that too. I haven’t had one of those in a while. I thought they were over..." You explained, soothing yourself by gently swaying the stool from side to side.

“Is it because of the…” He pointed to the hand. You shook your head. “Mmm, maybe you just need rest.”

“Pot meets kettle.” You blurted out and heard him chuckle.

“Actually, yes.” 

He went back to the tinkering, and you laid your head on your arms again, watching him work. There had always been something relaxing in watching either Viktor or Jayce work, especially if they were deep into what they were doing. 

There was this laser focus on the work; their movements became sharp and precise, and it was like they had honed in their bodies to only move when extremely necessary. Their expression changed as they worked, eyebrows furrowing, eyes widening, and a little smirk would grow on their lips when they figured out something or turn into a frown when they did something wrong. If you looked at them for a long time, it was like magic; their hands moved, and something appeared.

Once again, your mind started drawing runes on the table; this time you let them go. A pencil was being whooshed away from you, and when it rolled back, you did it again. 

“Does it hurt?” Viktor asked, not looking up from his paper.

“What?”

He opened his palm, the pencil he had stuck on his middle finger and thumb, and shook it. He meant your glowing member.

“Oh. No, not really.” You placed your glowing hand on the table, palm down, fingers spread. “It tingles, but… It’s not uncomfortable. It's soothing even.”

“Mmm… do you know why it glows?” He asked, his eyes landing on your hand, his paper forgotten. You chuckled.

This is what he wants: to study something new. You would happily oblige him; he had been incredibly accommodating. He had brought you to his second home and even let you sit next to him as he worked. 

To you, this—all of this—the sights, the sounds, the mess in the lab, the somewhat tired man sitting next to you—this was your normal.

To him you were a stranger; your presence was uncommon in his space, someone who was naturally yielding something he had only managed to create artificially.

“I do.” You turned your hand over, and the white line of the rune there glowed a little lighter. “The rune makes me able to…write…without physical means.”

“Fascinating.” He was about to touch a finger to your palm but stopped abruptly. “Will it hurt me?”

“I don’t know. Haven't slapped anybody with it yet.” You smirked; he rolled his eyes. 

Viktor grabbed a pencil and poked your hand. It felt normal. It was underwhelming even to you.

“So?” He asked, observing the tip of the pencil. 

“You poked me with a pencil, and that's exactly how it felt.”

“Mmm…” He ripped a little note sheet and placed it gently on your palm.

After a few seconds of it just lying there, with him looking at it intensely, you brought your head down next to his.

“Are you expecting the paper to burst into flames?” You whispered, and he looked at you and back to the paper and then back at you.

“Oh…this is…” He groaned and replaced the paper with his hand.

Your eyes widened, half scared of what would happen to him and half scared of what would happen to you. His palm was cold as usual, heavy and bony. You swallowed, taking deep breaths, waiting for his hand to turn to white and gold. 

“Surprisingly warm but seemingly harmless.” He said, taking his hand away, and you sighed in relief. He realized what he had done and looked at you. 

“I…apologize. I should have asked if I could.”

“It’s alright.” You cleared your throat.

“Would you mind if I asked you more questions about this? It will stay between us, but I think I can use it for the hex-”

“No,” you interrupted him. “You won’t use this on that.” 

“Do you know what hextech is…it’s a—”

“I know what hextech is, and I know how easy the hex-core is to corrupt.”

“Corruptible? No, no…It’s stable; we have been trying new things with it… and they run—"

“No, Viktor.”

“But... it... can be helpful to it.” He was starting to get frustrated, his forehead starting to crinkle as he narrowed his eyes.

“It might help, but what would be the costs? You’d add an unknown variant to a stable environment…” you felt proud being able to use his verbiage against his own argument. “The result could vary, and it could destroy everything. I’ll let you study the magic, but not for hextech. Not for use in hextech.”

“But…”

“I will not go anywhere near the hex-cores.” 

Viktor opened his mouth to argue, but after a while, he shut it and nodded. You knew, if he was anything like your Viktor, which it appeared so, there were some doubts about the usage of hex-core in more unstable scenarios. 

From where you were, it seemed the hex-core hadn’t been corrupted yet, but his leg had still been enhanced, which meant that the possibility was there. And you knew he knew that. Nothing was ever just pure. There is always a way to corrupt the incorruptible if anyone tries hard enough.

“I accept your terms.” 

“Good. Give me the notebook.” You mentioned the new notebook, and he slid it to you. You turned it over to the last page, writing something on it.

“Read it and sign it.” You gave him back the notebook and the pen you were holding.

“What?” He looked at what was written on it, his golden eyes moving through the lines. “I, Viktor, co-creator of Hextech, agree to investigate the matter previously discussed without using it to further my investigation of the hex-core.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow and looked at you, his face blank, unimpressed. You, on the other hand, smiled triumphantly.

“This does not look very legally binding.” He tilted his head to the side, still looking at the book.

“It may not look official, but it could be used against you after you sign it as an informal commercial agreement.” You added.

“No. To be an informal commercial agreement, I will have to receive something in return.”

“Alright. Write down what you want then.”

Without second thoughts, he grabbed the pen and scribbled something on the page, passing it over to you.

“In exchange, the subject of the study will be available whenever and answer all the questions asked truthfully.” You mentioned the pen, and he handed it to you.

You added ‘possible’ after ‘whenever and showed it to him.

“I’m not about to be woken up after you figure something out in the wee hours of the morning.” You explained.

“Eh...fair...”

He did a little VK on the side of the page, and you did your own signature.

“I guess we have a deal.” Viktor smirked, excitement contained behind his amber eyes.

• ············ •

“So…nothing happened?” Your mother asked, still in her sleeping attire, a purple silk robe wrapped around herself.

“Nope.” You drank some tea from the delicate yellow cup.

It was still early in the morning, but you had places to be at. When you asked Viktor when they should start, he mentioned the earliest convenience, pointing to the ‘contract.’ So, you had woken up before the sun came up and were already ready to leave, only stopping by the kitchen for breakfast. Everything was quiet until your sleepy mother walked in asking all kinds of questions.

“So, what now?” She was leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, chewing on some vanilla cookies Voltaire had dropped.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “I was counting on the events being the same and going from there.”

“I guess it’s good you're a musician…” You looked at her. “You’ll be playing it by ear.”

“Oh…by the gods…Mother…” You snorted and got up from the table as she snickered at the bad joke. 

“What? That was funny.”

You kissed her forehead and walked away from her, laughing on your way to the Academy.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw

[fratboyharrys-gf]

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝐇.𝐒.

SUMMARY: YN has the flu and harry is determined to be there for her.

WORD COUNT: 751 || masterlist

WARNINGS: yn is sick, mentions throwing up, she takes painkillers

A/N: i wrote this in like 30 minutes 😭 i needed to get something out before my cousins visit because i won’t be able to post anything for a few days probably

i might make a pt 2 ! please reblog & comment <3 thank you sm!

join my taglist here!

YN rubbed her tired eyes and got up from her bed when she heard tapping on her bedroom window. she knew it was her best friend, harry.

they were on the phone when he noticed that she sounded off. he asked her what was wrong, and she brushed it off and told him that she just had a cough, but he didn’t believe her. he told her he was on his way, and before YN could stop him, he hung up.

YN unlocked her window and opened it, revealing harry standing in the tree that they used to climb all the time when they were younger, and the one that he still uses to this day to sneak into her room during times like this.

“you didn’t have to come.” she spoke weakly, stepping to the side so he could come in, “you’ll get sick.”

“i’ll be fine.” harry shrugged and closed the window, locking it as well.

“no you won’t. i feel horrible.” she laid back down in her bed and pinched her eyes shut as her head began pounding.

YN had been getting up and running to her bathroom at least once an hour to throw up, she’s been coughing nonstop, her nose is stuffy, and she just feels absolutely terrible.

“harry, i’m serious. i’ve been throwing up for hours. you don’t want to risk getting whatever i have.”

“YN,” he began, his tone stern as he sat next to her on the bed, his feet hanging off the side while he took his shoes off. “i’m not leaving. if i get sick, which i probably won’t, i’ll be okay. i want to be here with you right now. i know you’d do the same if it were me. so stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.”

she sighed and stayed silent, not having the energy to fight him on this much longer, until she heard the sound of a medicine bottle opening. she cracked an eye open, and saw harry pouring two pills into his hand.

“you got me medicine?”

“mhm.” he handed her the pills and opened a water bottle for her.

YN took the pills from him, popped them into her mouth, and downed the water. “thank you.” she muttered, her voice weak.

harry sat next to her on the bed, his eyes fixed on her. “you look awful,” he said, his tone both concerned and teasing.

“i feel awful.” she replied.

harry chuckled softly and brushed some of her hair away from her forehead. “you have always been a terrible liar, you know that, right?” he teased, referring to when she told him that she only had a cough.

YN grumbled in response, not having the strength to come up with a comeback. she could feel the medicine starting to kick in, her headache beginning to subside.

harry scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side.

she leaned into him, appreciating the comfort his presence brought.

“you didn’t have to come.” she mumbled, knowing there was no point in arguing anymore.

“you already said that.” he said quietly, his fingers tracing light patterns on her arm.

YN closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion take over her body as the medicine continued to relieve her headache.

“you should sleep,” harry told her, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly.

“mhm,” she hummed in agreement, her eyelids feeling heavier with each passing second.

harry pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin for a few moments. “get some rest,” he whispered, his fingers combing through her hair.

YN mumbled something incoherent in response, already beginning to doze off.

harry smiled to himself, watching as she drifted further into sleep. he shifted his position, settling back further against her headboard as he got comfortable.

he sat silently next to her and stared at the ceiling, listening to her soft breathing as she slept. he could feel her warm body pressed up against him, the rise and fall of her chest, the faintest movement of her fingers on his leg. all of these things reminded him how much he cared for her. how much he loved her.

harry looked back down at YN, still asleep. he leaned down and placed another soft kiss on her forehead, savoring the feeling of her skin against his lips. he then positioned himself more comfortably, closed his eyes, and began to drift off to sleep himself.

taglist: @nikkimartinez23 @elliedafish @meadowwitchpinklight @howling-wolf97 @carolinaastyles @carolinaskiiwi @tianajames17 @illicitverstappen @cassofheartsss @fangirl509east

[rockatanskette]

Semi-related to my post on how human conservation practices, but I have a cold today, and it's got me thinking about biological altruism—the biological imperative to put other creatures ahead of yourself, to benefit the group.

When talking about possible interactions with other species, we talk a lot about humans being crazy and thrill-seeking and impossible to kill. Never use a warning shot as an incentive to keep humans out of a fight; it'll just make them angry. And that's true. But a valid criticism I've seen in the "Earth is a death world" community is that according to our understanding of evolution, every planet must be some form of death world. Competition fosters evolution—the wolf with sharper claws survives when its litter mates die. You can't reach space travel without some casualties along the way.

But the dog survives because it makes friends with the strange ape carrying a sharp stick. And the strange ape survives because it befriends the wolf. Underneath the death world is an inextricable and undeniable layer of the bond world; the love world; the world, together.

I imagine some worlds are not death worlds. They're peaceful and tranquil. I suspect there are worlds far more deadly than Earth, where the skies rain diamonds, harder than any substance we know with the species to match. And I imagine that they are united in their confusion at the duality of humankind.

Today is a great example: I have a cold, and I want someone to take care of me, but the people who would are immunocompromised, also sick, or live 8 hours away, respectfully. I also want no one within the walls of my apartment or I will eat them. I feel gross, I feel tired, and I don't want a single human being anywhere near me, even if they did bring soup.

In my constant scrolling through my phone today, I decided to look up why the hell I feel so bad—why everyone feels so bad when they're ill. And the answer surprised me. I always thought it was because your immune system is active, so it's using a lot of your energy. That is part of it. Another part is that your brain and body are communicating across the blood-brain barrier to fight the infection, which is rare and energetically expensive.

But that doesn't explain everything, and according to more current research, it could also be what's called the Eyam Hypothesis: that we feel so gross, so we instinctively isolate from other people. We're too tired to deal with others, and so we don't infect them. Misanthropy for the good of the species. Of course, it can also backfire: one of the criticisms of the Eyam Hypothesis is that humans also instinctively care for each other. If my brother has a headache, I drive to the store for Advil.

Personally, I think it's a little bit of both: biological altruism. Either way, the majority live on. The first thought I had this morning when I woke up wasn't "I feel gross" it was "there's no way I'm going to work today." And while that might not be everyone's first thought, you don't even have to be a particularly altruistic person to not want to leave your home or your bed when you're sick. It's inborn.

And so when the human named Ismail comes down with a case of the interstellar common cold, his alien friend Dyos grows very concerned. Ismail is usually intensely social, almost off-puttingly so. Some crew members joke about how his quarters are for sleeping and prayer only; if he's home alone? You should be worried. But when Dyos demands an answer to the severity of Ismail's malady, the other humans just nod knowingly.

"Nah, he's okay, the medics already cleared him. It's not a severe infection."

"But there are so many...fluids. And his body has changed color."

There is a moment of confusion there until they remember that Dyos's species can see in the infrared color spectrum.

"Nah, that's just a low-grade fever. It should break in the next couple days."

"But he doesn’t want to play chess today," Dyos insists.

"Ohhhh," says human Claudia, finally understanding. "No, that's normal. Humans don't like being around other people when they're sick, it's supposed to be one of the major evolutionary advantages. Protect your community from your illness and the genes live on."

"So we're just going to leave him alone?" Dyos is troubled by this. He can go for weeks without speaking to another life form, but he has seen Ismail grow despondent when unable to participate in social gathering.

"Oh, no," human Claudia says, laughing. "We're going to employ one of the other most longstanding human evolutionary advantages."

There are many to choose from and Dyos settles on, "middle age?"

"Sort of," human Claudia opens up a small shipping container and holds up a brown paper bag tied with a colorful ribbon. It glows brightly in Dyos's vision, almost as brightly as human Claudia's smile. "His nanni's hot soup, express delivery."

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: This fic takes place after Part 1 Teenage Headache Dreams so feel free to give that a read first. Note that I might get a little creative with RE lore and chapter updates could be longer than before, so please bear with me. Thank you to all those who gave feedback and followed me on this journey so far! 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: The Invitation

7 years.

7 years since you last saw him. 

But he hasn’t stopped haunting you.

You were stumbling your way through the sweaty crowd in one of the nightclubs you usually patronized. The thumping electronic beats resounded in your ears, as throngs of people writhed and shook to the music, raising their open palmed hands towards the DJ, like they were praying to some demigod. The room was bathed in a swathe of dark red light, and you were parting it like a sea of blood.

Dark kohl liner accentuated your eyes and your lips were the color of bruised plum, smudged slightly due to the humidity of the place. Your body was slick with perspiration, glittering under the lights, and it was barely covered by pieces of lace and a leather harness. A random guy pulled up next to you, whispering lewd nothings in your ear as you shoved him aside nonchalantly.

You were drugged up, high out of your mind, but everyone else was anyway, so why did you even care? Something instinctual told you to get to the middle, no matter what. So here you were, pushing your way through unapologetically, like you were on some unspoken mission.

And there he was. In the center. Blonde hair, blue eyes, t-shirt and jeans, just like you remembered him, as if time had not passed at all. As if it was only yesterday.

He stared at you intensely, wearing a scowl on his face, unspeaking. You noticed how tired he looked, like he just wanted to end it right there and then. So tired.

Maybe it was like those indigenous myths you had read about in class when you were young. The saying was that if one faces death, death has no choice but to grant them a final dance. Were you now in the shoes of death, frozen to the spot, watching him so he could cross over to the other side? Except, he wasn’t dancing. He remained there, completely still, eyeing you emotionlessly.

“Leon…” you mouthed, as your voice was drowned out by the blaring sound system.

The next moment, he disappeared into thin air like a shadowed specter, a faded memory of what you once had. 

Suddenly, everything around you erupted in flames, the bright light dazzling you and the scorching heat against your skin causing you to shrink away in fear. Your lungs felt like they were suffocating as you coughed vehemently due to the thick smoke that enveloped you. What the hell was all of this?

As you attempted to make a run for the exit, you noticed piles of bloodied-up bodies lying on the floor, surrounding you in a tight circle. Tripping over them, your eyes widened in shock as you began to recognize who they belonged to. There lay your parents, Leon’s parents, Kayla and the rest of the cheerleaders… the count went on as you frantically tried to shuffle yourself backwards, away from the source of terror, until you heard a deafening screech tearing through your eardrums.

BRRRNNGGG!!!

The sound of your alarm clock jolted you from your sleep. Hitting the ‘off’ button in response, you cursed out loud as your body shuddered uncontrollably. Your blanket and sheets were wet and clammy with puddles of your sweat. Trying to calm yourself, you took a quick gulp of water from the glass sitting on your bedside table and started to slow your breathing down.

Why were these dreams getting more and more frequent? You’d see Leon each time and then everything would turn to shit. There was just so much carnage and destruction back there, it nearly felt real.

You turned accusingly towards the framed photo of you and Leon back when you had posed together for your college graduation, still standing upright on your bedside table. Gripping it tightly till your knuckles were white, you opened one of the table drawers and chucked it inside, watching it clatter into the darkness as you shut the drawer back roughly.

Fuck, Leon! Why? You cried out internally, begging him to stop with the nightmares. Cradling your head in your hands, you broke out into sobs, whilst at the same time chiding yourself for not moving on from him all these years.

Bzzzt bzzzt. The burner phone on your desk interrupted your thoughts abruptly.

You sighed, picking yourself up from the bed and groggily trudging towards it. Flipping the phone open, you were greeted by yet another cryptic text from your handler.

The Chancery. Cocktail event. Tonight 7pm.

Right. Not like she would give you any more information on what this was about. As an informant, you were on a need-to-know basis and had to be happy with whatever scraps you got.

Your mind took a trip down memory lane of how you even landed in such a position in the first place. Ever since that fateful day where you decided to leave and never turn back, you used up whatever savings you had and ran all the way from the Midwest of America to the capital of Germany. There, you naturally fell into the arms of the renowned Silje Völker dance company, who had welcomed you so warmly you even forgot about her peculiar, icy demeanor back when she had scouted you from the dance showcase.

You thought moving to another country and making a new life there would help ease the pain of losing Leon, but you were wrong. Still, it couldn’t be worse than remaining in the place where the catastrophe happened and everything reminded you of him.

Then, about a year ago, some men in black suits handed you their card, reaching out with a proposition. Work for the US government as an informant. We need people like you, they said. There was something fishy going on with Silje, a wealthy, eccentric heiress, and artistic director of the dance company you were part of. She even owned the theater where your training and performances were conducted, and that venue was now under suspicion. As you had worked your way up to become one of her principal dancers, you were now in a prime position to gather the information they needed.

They were just so convincing. It reminded you of what Leon had said when he was younger. About wanting to protect the innocent and make a difference in the world. With that, you didn’t even think; you just said yes. 

Yes. To honor the memory of the boy you loved. Yes. If only you could have just said that one word to him, and to whatever he wanted. Yes.

So now you sought to betray the woman whom you saw as your surrogate mother. Your mother who had helped you find your way in a foreign country, where you were all alone, afraid and distraught. The one who nurtured you into the woman you were standing here today - bold, cunning and adaptable. It felt like life was playing a cruel trick on you. One you could not win.

After rushing through your daily routine, you gathered your things, slipping off an elegant, black cocktail dress from your hanger and stuffing it into your day bag, before heading out to the theater where you normally spent your waking hours training.

You greeted Silje, or Frau Völker - as she preferred to be called by the other dancers, except you and a select few - on the way in. Silje was a tall and wiry lady, with an aristocratic air about her. She consistently wore her platinum white hair in a tight bun, which pulled tautly against the skin along her jawline. For as long as you’ve known her, she never once took off her pitch black sunglasses, whether outdoors or indoors. Her dull-colored clothes covered her arms and legs fully and expensive leather gloves lined her hands at all times. Despite her fragile figure, she commanded authority and projected an intimidating presence.

As you entered the dance studio, she stopped you, gesturing to the dress peeking out of your bag. “Going somewhere special tonight?” 

Nothing could remain hidden from her astute gaze for long.

“Oh, just an international exchange at the embassy,” you lied through a perfect smile.

“How patriotic,” she crooned. You had gotten used to her dark humor and sarcasm by now, so you didn’t pay much attention to it as you shrugged in response.

“Well, enough chit-chat. We have a lot of work to do.” She clapped her hands twice to raise the awareness of the rest of the dance company. “Let’s go through the second part of the Rite, shall we?”

“You-” She pointed a bony finger in your direction. “Need to make those jumps lighter.”

You nodded, acknowledging her criticism that she dished out to you in front of everyone.

“Be in the air, not tied to the ground, my dear.” 

As she flashed over a wide, toothy grin, for a split second you were sure that you saw razor sharp fangs emerging from them. However, they were gone the moment you looked back again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

That evening, you exited out of Friedrichstraße station, one of the main shopping districts in central Berlin. The bustling streets were brightly lit against the darkening sky, as you darted in and out of the swarm of human traffic to get to the embassy. Your heels clacked along the pavement as you made a right, hurrying towards a closed off street, which was heavily fortified with barriers and fencing. 

From afar, you could make out the five-storey, gabled building with beige stone slabs, and the American flag hanging over its front entrance. One of the guards checked in with you, jotting down some notes against your name on his clipboard as he ushered you indoors. 

Dropping off your winter coat and day bag at the makeshift cloakroom, you slipped a couple of spare coins into the tip jar and headed up to the function room. Lively chatter and background music spilled out from its open doors into the corridor you were in. 

You checked yourself anxiously in a reflective surface nearby to make any last minute adjustments. Since your handler hadn’t revealed much of why you had been requested, you wanted to make sure you looked the part and fit in, in case you needed to do some sweet talking with, what you might guess, the elite members of society.

Your hands were trembling ever so slightly as you smoothened out imaginary creases in your shimmery, black satin dress which clung snugly to your body, emphasizing your curves. It had a low, backless design that teased just the right amount of bare skin without raising a scandal. Despite that, you were still debating whether it was too little or too much. In fact, the length of the dress reached so close to the floor, it was a wonder you hadn’t had an accident while walking around in it yet. Maybe you should alter the hem of it in the near future.

The sound of the hallway clock chiming at 7 sharp disrupted your inner monologue, as you realized you should adhere to your punctuality. Making the final touches to your loose, tousled bun and swabbing your lips with a light layer of rouge stain, you finally broke away and entered the function room.

Drinks and canapés lined the long, white banquet tables to the side, while men in snazzy suits and women in fine threads gathered around in their cliques, conversing with each other. It felt like you had gone back in time and were thrown into some 70s gala party, where you didn’t know a single soul. 

A waiter stopped in front of you carrying a tray of bubbly champagne in tall flute glasses. “Madame?” He offered you one from his delicate hand.

You nodded gratefully, taking it before situating yourself at a corner of the room, sipping your drink slowly. Glancing at your watch, you observed that 15 minutes had passed since the supposed meeting time of 7pm. Scanning the room proved fruitless as you didn’t find anything of note.

Where was your handler, Bergmann? What was this party for? You wondered.

At some point, you felt a shadow loom over you from your left shoulder, but you didn’t have a chance to react until it spoke.

“Talk about seeing a ghost from the past.”

Your ears perked up at the voice that you would recognize anywhere, except it sounded deeper and gruffer this time.

No, it couldn’t be… 

Alarm bells started to ring in your head, as you tried to convince yourself that this was one of your nightmares again. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the U-Bahn and now you were lucid dreaming. 

You pinched your arm, not daring to look in the direction of the source of the voice. This was just a dream. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna help.” 

Or not.

Your breath hitched as you turned sharply to your left, coming face-to-face with a pair of electric blue eyes set in a hollow stare, the dark circles under them giving away his fatigue. His chiseled face was marred by a cut he was nursing on his bottom lip, and his mop of blonde hair was almost like how you remembered it, but longer at the bangs and lighter in color as if it had been bleached in the sun. He was also suited up, black this time, but you could tell he had grown bulkier and more muscular underneath.

How was this possible? What was going on?

You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the scene in front of you, as everything around the room began to spin and your vision blurred. There was the sound of a glass breaking, and the last thing you were conscious of was a strong set of arms wrapping around you, followed by a yell, “Give her some air!”

Then darkness came to claim you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

There was something wet on your face and what felt like a cold breeze, causing a shiver to run through your spine. Then, you sensed a light tapping against your cheek.

“Hey, hey. Wake up.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you were met again with those vivid blue eyes. As you came to, you realized that you were out on one of the balconies, your head propped up by his suit jacket while you lay on the ground. 

He held out a glass of water in his hand. “Here.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows until you came into a sitting position, before taking it from him gingerly. Your body was still shaking as you drank from the glass and at this, he took his jacket and placed it over your shoulders to cover you.

“Thanks,” you managed weakly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, while carefully helping you to your feet.

There was a moment of silence as both of you eyed each other without a word. However, it seemed as if he wasn’t surprised to see you, which was weird.

“Leon,” you stuttered. “How-”

The balcony door slid open.

“Ah, there you are!” A young man with a communication earpiece, whom you assumed was one of the staff members, called out.

He glanced between the two of you knowingly. “I see you’ve gotten acquainted.”

“Bergmann will see you now.” He signaled towards the elevators past the crowd.

Leon gave him a quick nod. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered in your ear as you followed the man leading you towards the top floor of the building.

Passing by an unassuming door on the fifth level, he rapped it thrice and you heard the distinct tone of Bergmann informing you to come in. He pushed the door and held it open for both of you before he left.

A woman in her late 40s with curly, auburn ringlets and donning a light gray pantsuit greeted you and Leon.

“Kirsten Bergmann,” she introduced herself while shaking Leon’s hand.

“Leon Kennedy.”

“Of course,” she smirked. “USSTRATCOM’s golden boy.”

You were confused, but started to piece together bits of the conversation. Leon had been alive and working for the government this whole time?

“So you’ve met my informant.” Bergmann motioned at you. “She seems to have a flair for making a spectacle of herself recently.” She frowned disapprovingly, referring to the incident that happened earlier that evening. 

You bowed your head in embarrassment, but Leon appeared completely indifferent.

“Anyway, Hunnigan will be joining us on comms shortly.”

With that, she turned to one of the screens in the room which had been switched on and was showing a connecting symbol. A few seconds later, a bespectacled lady with her hair neatly tied back appeared on it.

“Hunnigan here. Shall we get to it?”

Bergmann took the lead on the discussion. 

“My informant will be an invaluable asset to Agent Kennedy’s mission. She has nestled herself deep within the target company and gained the trust of Ms Silje Völker, who has started to, on her own accord, disclose further information in confidentiality to my informant. All the intel has been fed back to HQ.”

Pressing a button, Bergmann brought up a blueprint map of the theater on another screen, except this had additional markings on it in your own handwriting.

“As you can see, exploration of the target site has shown multiple hidden passageways, false doors and even additional depths absent in the original plans. A copy of this has already been forwarded to all of you.”

This time, Bergmann turned to face you, folding her arms as she continued.

“In addition, my informant has secured various key connections that will prove the validity of our findings and help Agent Kennedy gain a foothold on getting access into the target site easily.”

“We are certain this is the base of operations,” she added, almost triumphantly. 

“And I shouldn’t have to remind you how this case needs to be handled with the utmost discretion,” she warned, gazing strictly at Leon and Hunnigan. 

“We have to ensure that US-German relations remain solid and the last thing we want is for this thing to blow up in the public. Much less in the capital.”

“Understood,” came Hunnigan’s unwavering reply. “I’m sure Leon will be able to manage that.”

“Perfect,” Bergmann replied, looking rather satisfied with herself. “My informant will work closely with you on this. There are sights to see, people to meet, and she will accompany you-”

“With all due respect, I don’t need a babysitter.” Leon suddenly piped up from the middle of the room.

You watched in astonishment, your jaw falling ajar, as he insulted you in front of your colleagues. His harsh words stung you inside. It seemed as if he hated you, and wanted nothing to do with you. But why?

“I am more than capable of finishing this myself,” he continued firmly.

Bergmann’s brows furrowed and her nostrils flared, as she looked at Leon like she was about to reprimand a child. “I assure you, she-”

“Take her off the case,” he demanded.

“Agent Kennedy!” Bergmann raised her voice. “That’s not your decision to make.”

From the intercoms, Hunnigan concurred, “I’m sorry, Leon. It’s been endorsed by the higher ups.”

“This is fucking bullshit.” He smacked his hand on a nearby table in defeat.

A tiny smile appeared on Bergmann’s face and you knew she had a trick up her sleeve. “Besides, Agent, how good is your German?”

He glared at her pointedly. “Good enough.”

She laughed mockingly and proceeded to speak with him in German, using a mixture of complex and colloquial sentences, which you noted that Leon was having a fair amount of difficulty processing. Then she turned to you, indicating that you should answer, and you complied with her order obediently.

“She’s fluent, even passable as a native.” Bergmann remarked smugly. “You, on the other hand, won’t last a day with that grasp of the language.”

Leon didn’t respond, but instead resorted to shooting daggers at her.

“Well, now that part’s over and done with, let’s move on to the logistics.” Bergmann stated simply, as if the previous altercation had never occurred.

She pushed forward, briefing you and Leon on the capacity in which you two should work together, how to approach comms, backstories and the like, including the next steps required in the task ahead.

At the end, she requested you to step outside and wait for Leon on the ground floor, as she relayed further details to him that you were not privy to. You had grown accustomed to this sort of treatment, even if you didn’t like secrets being withheld from you. So you waited patiently on one of those stiff, high-back wooden chairs in the lobby, for the man you thought had been a ghost all this while to find you.

How did he survive? Why didn’t he say anything? Was he still upset about the past? Is that why he had treated you with such venom at the meeting? You had a million questions running through your head. Nothing made sense. Maybe the only reason why you weren’t having a mental breakdown at the moment was because you knew you had a job to do.

“Something on your mind?”

You whipped around, startled by the unexpected intrusion. It was Leon, regarding you with curiosity despite the constant scowl on his face.

You sighed, catching your breath and lowering your hands that had been clutched at your chest. “Wanna start talking?”

“Not here,” he replied. “Somewhere less open.” He glanced around before adding, “More rowdy.”

You nodded, understanding that he wanted a place without prying ears. “There’s a grimy bar that’s always packed to the brim in Neukölln. No one will give a shit there.”

He scoffed. “Sounds like my type of bar.”

Pointing at his attire, you commented, “You gotta get out of that suit though. Not unless you want to attract some attention.”

He leaned against the wall, allowing his bangs to fall over his eyes as he folded his arms and smirked at you. “Suits me.”

[straightcraig]

Nine Sols headcanons and scenarios.

My first post On tumblr. Joy. I suck at wording stuff so if something is misunderstood i'm sorry.

Headcannons(some of them were also written on Reddit almost half a years ago)

1 Eigong didn't understood that there was an actual hatred between Yi and Goumang. She just though it was a friendly bickering like the one she had before becoming head of tiandao council.

2 Lady Ethereal was a fan of horror genre. Either became a fan after Xiaohe showed her or even before.(That changed after the accident)

3 Yanlao was very good at all types of video games. His favourite were claw machines.

4 Goumang has issues with being left behind. Possibly abandoned by her parents. Which also translates to trust issues.

5 Ji could outdrink everybody.

6 Yi gets good at everything when he's drunk even things that he sucks at like cooking(Yi's diet consists of cup noodles and whatever his sister sends him).

7 Yi is THE densest guy on Penglai. He just doesn't understand romance except few romance novels he read and scientific explanations of it.

8 Fu Die and Kuafu tried playing cupid and help Yi find somone, there was alot of problems with it as most girls were very wary due to his status as a Sol and felt very inadequete or Yi being Yi said something that made other hate him. Lady Ethereal almost strangled him when he made another girl cry. She still picked him up like a toddler and shaked him while screaming at him.

9 Lady Ethereal found Yi endearing like a child pretending to be adult. He also made her realise she likes short people.

10 Jiequan is suprisingly a good motivational speaker.

Scenario 1 "mind to mind" (platonic/romantic?(I don't know how romance works.))

Goumang:Just my s$&@#8 luck to run into you of all people.

Yi:(just minding his own buisness while trying to ignore Goumang, which is hard taking into account she's sitting next to him. Why did he chose to sit next to her again)?

Goumang:What are you doing here?

Yi:Am I forbidden from drinking?

Goumang:Well you definitely don't look like you can. You don't act like it either.

Yi:(ouch an indult that strikes both of my insecurities. As ruthles as ever).

Yi:Listen I came here just to have a nice drink in possible quiet and outside of everyone's consistent nagging. So we can either make this a very s$&#@8 evening for everyone involved or we shut up, have our drinks and leave like nothing happened.(Yi wasn't joking Kuafu and Lady Ethereal already gave him a great headache when they tried to get him to meet with another "candidate" and no he wasn't interested in men Jiequan stop asking).

Goumang:Fine but if you pass out don't expect me to help you get back to dorms. You're on your own.

Yi:You think you can keep up with me?(Yi may not look like it but he did outdrink everybody. Ok, almost everybody, the amount of wine Ji drank is scientifically impossible and yet it happened. How did he drink 2 times the body weight of Kuafu is beyond him but honestly he's to scared to ask).

Goumang:Is that a chalenge, shorty?

Yi:I don't know, do you accept it?(Yi was honestly too tired to even question why did he agree to this. He already got stuck for several days while trying to fix many Bugs and glitches in the new systems. Overworking himself and when he was done the Kuafu asked him nicely to come help with something that something being Kuafu playing matchmaker with him. Kuafu might be one of the only friends he has in the council but sometimes his nagging reminds him too much of a mother hen.

Goumang:You're dead.

Spongebob narrator voice:3 bottles later

Goumang(absolutely wasted):I never envied somone as much as I envy you right now. That's why I hate you!

Yi(Dazed after Goumang rant about how much she hates him for taking away her teacher and a rolemodel she never had as a child):...I never felt like I deserved it.

Goumang:...Hah?

Yi(tipsy):I mean yeah I kinda understand that Eigong is interested in me but I never really felt as if I deserved to be in a council or rather not as fast as I did. Like everyone there feels like an hyperinteligent monster. Kuafu helped recreate entire rhizomantic tower system, a technology that was lost after Lear turned his back on science. We had next to nothing about them in terms of technicalities and we were left with their ruins and he reverse engineered entire thing. Jiequan is heir of the kingdom that sparked entire science revolution during the warring era and despite its falls from grace is still the country where science is most prominent(made it up but if we take into account that transmutation is legal in Jie Kingdom I wouldn't be surprised). Lady Ethereal helps created technology that can make mental images into computer ones many of the modern system run on her research. Fuxi and Nuwa basically financed the entire thing while supporting Feng clan which is quite a feat. Yanlao for as much as I hate him is very knowledgable about history and his collection has a lot of past technologies so at least he's useful. Eigong is the leader of entire council, my teacher and knows about science more then all of us. And as for you...

Goumang:...WELL?!

Yi:Your research into biotechnology did basically feed half the Penglai. And you were here before me. So lucky, you were already here making people life easier with science. While I was making small experiments surrounded by ignorant folk and my first experiment almost killed me. Taken under Eigong wings only becouse I survived.

Goumang:...Now you're just trying to make me feel bad about myself for bashing heads with you.

Yi:I see no point in lying about it. Also we should stop here before you forget how to walk.

Goumang(reaches for the fourth bottles):Is that a chalenge?

Yi:Well you said you won't carry me but I can't exactly carry you either.

Goumang:Hah weakling.

Yi(while taking bottle from her):Lightweight.

Goumang:Well now look at us, talking as if were friends.

Yi:Are we?

Goumang:I don't know you're still an annoying shortstack but at least I know you a little bit more then "mr. Steal your teacher"

Yi:...What does that mean?!

Goumang:Do you not know what is a meme?

Yi:(slightly embarrassed)...No.

Goumang:...huh...(hysterical laughter)

Yi:...Yeah that's enough wine for you today.

Scenario 2 "friendly rivaly"

Context:Its been two weeks since Goumang and Yi's heart to heart, and they haven't argued with eachother. No bickering, not even a verbal jab.

Yi:Huh...maybe Heng was right sometimes being honest can make miracles happen. I jinxed it didn't I.

Ruyi:Master Yi am I interrupting something?

Yi:You didn't Ruyi, what is it?

Ruyi:Eigong wished to meet you here in your lab.

Yi:Why my lab specifically.

Ruyi:she didn't mention a reason just that she wanted to speak with you. From her tone I imagine it to be rather important or maybe very personal.

Yi:...Ok, when?

Ruyi:Right now.

Yi:Wait, she's waiting under our door! Why didn't she knock?

Ruyi:She did. Four times infact. However you weren't reacting my Lord, you were just staring into workshop wall.

Yi(in a whisper):Why do I feel existencial dread, its like that one time my mom called me 3 times and I didn't answer.

Ruyi:...should I let her in my lord?

Yi: ah! Yes yes.

Eigong:Hello Yi.

Yi:Good morning, teacher.

Eigong:Its noon Yi.

Yi:Good afternoon then, what is it you wished to talk about.

Eigong:Lets sit Yi.

Yi:Very well. Abacus prepare tea.

Ruyi:Understood-

Eigong:It won't be necessary. I'm just here to ask Yi a question. ... What happened?

Yi:... Teacher may you elaborate?

Eigong:You haven't bickered with eachother and Im a bit worried for relationship of my Students. So what happened? Did you two fight.

Yi:Are you talking about me and Goumang? Nothing happened we just talked with eachother and came to an understanding.

Eigong:Was there a misunderstanding between you I wasn't aware of?

Yi:...Ok, with all due respect teacher. Relationship between me and Goumang was nonexistent up until two weeks ago.

Eigong:???

Yi:Frankly we hated eachother. Well more like she hated me but I was just adding oil to the fire.

Eigong:But you were bickering like an old married couple.

Yi:Yes we... Hold on did you think our screaming matches were just friendly "bickering".

Eigong:...(Nods).

Yi:...And Kuafu calls me the densest guy on all of Penglai.

Eigong:What Kuafu Has to do with anything?

Yi:Absolutely nothing. Going back to your question teacher all you need to know is that we explained stuff between eachother and we won't bicker as much.

Eigong:I'm unsure if that should calm me down or make me more worried.

Yi:...Anything Else?

Eigong:No this will be all thank you for your time Yi.

Yi:No problem teacher.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers day 26 version 2: Cock warming. Max/GP. About 1.4k words.

Max walks towards his hotel room, slightly dragging his feet, feeling tired to the bone. Even in a building as big as this one, he can hear the pounding of the rain outside, see the occasional flash of lightning. He changed clothes at the track, after trying to dry himself up a little, but he hadn't had time to shower between the interviews and the post-race debrief.

He barely had the energy for it anyway.

It had been a very long and frustrating weekend, rain slowing down every session, almost stopping them from having a race at all. Not that they had ended up racing much, between red flags and safety cars.

Now, he wishes he could go straight home, but the weather is bad enough he had been advised to wait for the next morning, so one more night at the hotel it was.

He leans slightly against the wall as he looks for his room key, his eyes threatening to stay closed with every blink. The headache that had been steadily forming during the day seems to be back with a vengeance, pounding at the back of his skull.

The door opens with a beep, and he pushes it open, just wanting to go take a shower, or maybe straight to bed, no matter how disgusting he might be, when he realises the lights are on.

He blinks, not really wanting to have to deal with an intruder at the moment. If there is a murderer waiting for him, he might let them do their job without arguing.

He walks in, tiredly trying to muster up enough energy to send whoever it is out of the door, but what he finds isn't a murderer.

Instead, GP is sitting on the small couch, a stack of papers in his lap and an highlighter in his hand.

He raises his head, flashing Max a smile that is just as tired in the corners as Max feels.

"Hey," GP greets him, "I let myself in, I hope you don't mind."

If it was anyone else, Max would very much mind, but with GP he just shakes his head, toeing out of his shoes.

As soon as he's shrugged his jacket off though, his momentum stops, leaving him standing in the middle of the room, the following tasks (taking a shower, changing, maybe eating something, going to bed) feeling too draining to even start. He wishes he could teleport straight back into his bed at home, his cats curling on the blankets next to him.

"Max?"

Max looks up, and finds out that GP has moved, now standing in front of him, a worried expression deepening the wrinkles on his face.

Max should probably tell him that he's fine, he's just tired, he just has to get going and then he'll be fine, but he can't get his mouth to move. What he does instead is tip forward, until his forehead lands on GP's shoulder, his hands hastily coming up to steady him at his waist.

GP presses his cheek against the top of his head, moving half a step closer to make the half hug more comfortable.

"Are you sick? Or just tired?" he asks, keeping his voice soft but stern. It's a fair question, it wouldn't be the first time Max hides a illness to be able to race, but it's not the case this time.

"Tired," he mumbles, voice raspy. Even just that one word feels like too much effort, tongue stumbling around the letters, heavy and drained like every other muscle in his body.

GP hums, rubbing one hand up and down his back. His presence alone is so comforting it makes Max feel like he could fall asleep right there, standing in the middle of the room.

GP gives them a few more moments, before gently pushing Max back, keeping his hands on his hips while he waits for Max to hold his own full weight again.

"Shower?"

Max wants to say no, wants to lie and say he's had one already, but he knows this is pretty much just a rhetorical question and GP will make him shower anyway. So he nods, trying to muster up enough energy to get to the bathroom.

He looks through half lidded eyes at GP, who's now rifling through Max's suitcase to find some clean clothes, and then heading to the bathroom, turning the water in the shower on.

"Come on, Max, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can go to bed."

It's not the first time they have showered together, but it's the first time it's not following, or preceding, sex. Normally, it's all languid kisses, wandering hands on warm skin, but this time Max can't do much more than just standing there, letting GP take care of him.

GP is thorough with it, but careful. He makes sure no shampoo gets in Max's eyes, and that Max is always at least partially under the spray, not getting cold.

It's meditative, in a way, to let the water wash over him, feeling GP's strong hands moving over his naked body, turning him this or that way, and he turns his brain off.

When they're done, GP helps him into a towel, drying his hair for him with another, and then into clean clothes, warm from being left on the radiator.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence once they are back in the main room.

Max nods, sitting down on the bed and rubbing at his eyes, so tired they sting. He wants to go to sleep, but he knows that if he goes right now he won't fall asleep anyway.

For how tired he is, for how much his muscles hurt and his head aches, he knows his brain is still too awake, the last dregs of adrenaline still cursing through him.

He looks at the sheets of data GP had abandoned on the small couch and pushes himself to his feet again, ignoring GP's quizzical look to gather them up and bring them over to the bed.

He sits down near the headboard, and pats the spot beside him until GP sits, the data next to their legs.

"Max, I don't think going over data is going to be productive for you right now," GP tells him, his eyebrows wrinkled again with a worried pinch. That's fair too, Max knows. Both saying that he would be useless right now, and worrying about Max working too much. But that's not what he plans to do anyway.

So he shakes his head, pressing a hand on GP's shoulder until he is sat back against the headboard, then handing him the data.

And then he slides under the blanket, moving down on the bed until he's parallel to GP's legs, head in his lap, nosing against the underwear, Max's, he had put on after their shower.

"Max..." GP stops him, carding a hand in his hair. "I don't know if either of us is up for that. Quite literally."

It's true. Neither him or Max are hard, but that's not what Max wants.

"I just..." he tries, words clumsy in his mouth, "I need..."

He doesn't know how to end the sentence, doesn't know how to explain he just wants his brain to be quiet, to be able to sleep, but GP seems to understand anyway, his eyes growing softer.

"You need this?" he asks in confirmation, one hand coming down to cup Max's cheek, making him look up, his neck straining as he nods.

"Go ahead then."

Max's hands feel too big as he tries to rid GP of his underwear, but he gets there in the end, placing his head back in GP's lap, guiding GP's still soft dick inside his mouth.

He sucks at the head for a moment, tonguing at the slit, listening to GP's breath hitch, before taking into his mouth properly.

It's immediately perfect. Even when not hard, GP's dick fills his mouth nicely, the noise in his brain quieting down, the feelings of the day washing away, leaving him empty. All that counts is right here, just the weight on his tongue, the smell in his nostrils, the hand in his hair.

After an indefinite amount of time, he hears rustling of papers, and the sound of GP's voice, reading data aloud, creating the perfect background. In any other moment, Max would listen, would try and remember as much as possible, but not right now.

Right now is for sucking spit back into his mouth, breathe through his nose, and drift.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲: easy tips to form healthy habits ( based on this alessya farrugia video )

lately i've been having trouble being productive and finding a healthy balance between study, passions, exercise and free time. i've been searching for a long time online for advices and ideas that could help me find my serenity, and my searches led me to this. i hope you appreciate it.

pro tip do not try to improve everything all at once, you're gonna fail. just try to incorporate something small in your routine to start forming healthy habits. it might take months, but one year from now it will all be worthy.

𝟭. don't hit snooze ( ⏰ )

the "snooze" button is definitely my worst enemy, i simply don't want to get up and start a new day that will be tiring and hard, but when i realized the reasons why putting off the alarm is so harmful for me i seriously started to stop doing it. you will actually wake up even more tired and sleep-deprived after the second or third alarm goes off, since falling back to sleep after having already woken up causes your brain to begin a new "sleep cycle" that takes 75 minutes to complete, abruptly interrupting these cycles brings unpleasant side effects such as tiredness, irritability and headaches.

bonus start waking up at the same time every day, this will not only help consolidate your routine but is scientifically proven that it significantly reduces levels of anxiety and depression.

𝟮. don't check your phone (📱)

i've always spent at least an hour scrolling through social media right after waking up every day, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's not exactly the healthiest thing in the world. do not go on your phone for at least 30min/1h after waking up. i know it seems hard ( i have a severe phone addiction so i understand ) but i guarantee you that your days will be so much more stress free and productive. why? going on your phone as soon as you wake up gives you an instant hit of dopamine ( for more info, check this post ) that is gonna literally ruin your day, because your brain is gonna pretend more and more dopamine for the rest of the day in order to function properly.

𝟯. have a glass of water ( 🫗 )

you didn't drink for 8 hours or more so it's time to rehydrate your body. i hate drinking water as soon as i wake up so you can try adding some lemon juice to give it more taste, you can also try some herbal tea if it's winter and you don't feel like drinking cold water first thing in the morning, but avoid caffeine ( and theine ) for at least one hour after waking up. exactly like the hit of dopamine that your phone gives you, caffeine and similar stimulants will have the same effect on your body.

𝟰. have a cold shower ( 🚿 )

ok, i'm not one of those gurus who tells you to get up at 5 in the morning, take an ice bath and run 12 km before 7am, but switching to cold water for the last two minutes of your morning shower will have some benefits invaluable for you and your body. first of all it helps to wake you up, because it stimulates the nerve endings and makes the brain more active, it also helps to tone the skin and make the hair shinier. it's a difficult thing, but doing something like this in the morning will help your brain cope better with the workload during the day. it also reduces stress and anxiety, since the cold can activate the production of endorphins ( known as "happy hormones" ).

𝟱. physical and mental care ( 💕 )

take five or ten minutes to just look after yourself, do skincare - it doesn't have to be a deep session, just a little moisturizer and lip balm -, meditate, journal, cut out a few minutes from your morning routine where you leave out for a while all the negative thoughts, stress and anxiety, your body is your temple and you must treat it with reverence, your mind is your home, your safe place, and deserves your attention.

𝟲. get direct sunlight ( ☀️ )

apply some sunscreen and go get some sunlight, the benefits are so many that i couldn't list them all: i quote, production of vitamin D ( very important especially if you are a woman ), improved mood and, in general, physical and mental health, sleep regulation, improved skin. i know it's not always possible, especially in winter when there is very little sun, but for example if you have the chance to walk to school or work on a beautiful sunny spring day, take it!

𝟳. make the bed ( 🛏️ )

why should i make my bed if i'm going to have to sleep in it in the evening anyway? well, this is the mistake that i very often make and i admit that i am guilty of it. however, not making the bed is exactly the reason that pushes me to go back there immediately and sleep again. making your bed in the morning as an act of discipline will not only improve your self-esteem and make you less want to go back to sleep, but it will make your room seem cleaner and generally improve your environment, making you feel more productive and satisfied. completing that little task in the morning, even if it's small and simple, will give you motivation and will push you through the day.

𝟴. high-proteine breakfast ( 🥞 )

make sure you eat a balanced, protein-rich breakfast that will keep you feeling full until your next meal. it is useless to limit calories especially in the morning when we need an extra boost, this will only make us feel more tired and irritable and will significantly decrease our productivity.

[tiny-pretty-sana]

i will take good care of you | mina x chaeyoung

pairing: mina x chaeyoung genre: fluff warning/tags: au, stablished relationship, domestic girlfriends w/c: 3.1 k a/n: i’m back with more fluff but i promise you i’m trying new things. sorry in advance for the mistakes you might find because english is not my first language but especially because it’s 7 am and i haven’t slept ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১. i’m still surprised by the response the first thing i’ve ever posted got, so i’ll be happy if this one receives half as much love as that one did. feel free to leave any comments, feedback, suggestions or requests 🤍

After Chaeyoung hadn't stopped sneezing and blowing her nose since she arrived soaking wet from the rain the previous afternoon, they decided that canceling their Sunday date would be the best option. Their visit to the botanical park has now been replaced by a day at home watching movies. The exam period is coming, so it was reasonable to make Chaeyoung stay at home so she doesn’t get worse. It takes them some time to decide, as the younger one felt guilty because they had already bought tickets, but Mina manages to convince her girlfriend to stay on the couch with a blanket, tea and a box of tissues beside her while she goes out to buy medicine, her favorite snacks and some ingredients to make miso soup.

"I'll take good care of you" is the last thing she says before kissing Chaeyoung’s lips and leaving the apartment.

She would be lying if she said she isn’t surprised to see that when she's back in their apartment, her girlfriend is still in the same place where she left her half an hour ago, only now she has a book in her hand instead of the mug of tea that now sits empty on the living room table. As Chaeyoung focuses on her book, she places everything she got in the kitchen and grabs her Nintendo to continue building and decorating her Animal Crossing island on the other side of the couch. Moments like this are the favorites for both of them, they just need each other's company as they spend time enjoying their hobbies in a comfortable silence.

They are both introverts who enjoy spending time at home playing video games, reading, drawing,writing, assembling Lego sets or watching movies. It's something they've always enjoyed separately, and since Chaeyoung accepted Mina's proposal to move into her apartment, it's become something they do together. Now, across the room, across the couch or using the other Nintendo Switch controller, they have someone with whom they share playful glances, smiles, exchange thoughts, talk about their days at work or college, about lives or share their problems. In moments like these, they just need to feel each other's presence. For them to be in silence doing their own thing while intertwining their legs under the blanket doesn't feel much different from a date outside in a nice place. 

It's these things that make Mina wonder if they'll always feel this way or if it's a passing thing that will end when she gets used to living with Chae. Meanwhile, on the other side of the couch, Chaeyoung underlines the sentences in the book that remind her of Mina and thinks that she stay in this moment all her life without ever getting tired of seeing Mina in front of her focus on her videogames with the tip of her tongue sticking out, concentrating on the game, just like she does when she cooks a new recipe or when she prepares some presentation for work.

An hour later, Chae puts the book away, takes off her glasses and holds the bridge of her nose with two fingers "I can't focus, I have a headache" she complains, making Mina sit up immediately "Let me get you a glass of water so you can take a painkiller". Chaeyoung gestures for her to get back to sit with her. "Don't worry, I think I just need to get some sleep" she says as her girlfriend looks at her with a doubtful face "I promise I'll take it if my headache doesn't go away" she replies, earning an indulgent smile from Mina.

As soon as her girlfriend falls asleep on the couch she goes to the kitchen to make some miso soup, lunch for both of them and looks up movie recommendations on her phone while waiting for the water to start boiling. And of course, tea is a must. 

It seems that sleep was good for Chae because when she wakes up, she seems to be in a better mood and even a bit more talkative, so they spend lunch talking about what movie they should watch. When they’re done, Mina takes care of clearing the table and cleaning the dishes despite Chaeyoung's refusal when her girlfriend tells her to brush her teeth and go back to the couch.

"Mina-chan!" she whines. "It's just a cold, don't treat me like I'm dying. Let me help you."

"Your exams are coming up and you and I both know that if you get sick now, you'll only be more anxious because you won't be able to do as much as you'd like. At least one of us has to be responsible" Mina says, giving her a scolding look, and Chaeyoung has no choice but to nod her head and follow her directions.

Mina doesn't have to explain herself for her girlfriend to get the message since the cold is due more to Chaeyoung being careless than to the sudden rain of the previous day. In the morning, when the gray clouds covered the Seoul sky and didn't let even a ray of sunshine show, they both commented that good rains were on the way and they hoped that at least it wouldn't be so heavy as to spoil their Sunday date. Exactly that date in which both should now be holding hands, smelling the fragrance of the flowers and taking a thousand photos and maybe, in the case of the art student, doing some sketches or drawings. And despite this, and despite Mina's recommendations, Chaeyoung decided to go out without an umbrella, arguing that her new raincoat would be more than enough and that, unlike the umbrella, it would not ruin her outfit. But in case that hadn’t been enough, for when she arrived completely wet down to her socks and even clothes under her raincoat when Mina reprimanded her for not having listened to her, the younger girl explained that in fact it wasn’t because she wasn’t carrying an umbrella but because she, Dahyun and Tzuyu decided to run and dance in the rain when they left the library after an intense studying session. 

Knowing that her girlfriend's two best friends were involved, she wasn’t surprised by what happened. Separately, Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are quite quiet, introverted and they rather go unnoticed, but if they get together with Dahyun nothing good can happen. Apparently in one of their classes this week, a teacher lectured them about youth, art and living life, which inspired them enough for them to spend at least an hour in the rain several days later in the middle of a storm.

Considering what happened, she wasn't going to take Mina's point away, but that's not going to stop her from complaining. "Oh come on, it's a silly cold" she snorts and before she can continue speaking, she sneezes so hard that her glasses fall off. "Okay, but don't take long" she relents. 

When the dishes are clean, dry and in place, Mina returns to her side of the couch and gets ready to watch the movie, but she doesn't put it on, so she looks away from the TV and when she turns her head, she meets the huge expressive eyes of her girlfriend, who looks at her like a like a kicked puppy. She laughs softly and shifts her posture to lie down behind her and be the big spoon. It’s then when her girlfriend considers pressing the play button.

Only ten minutes pass until Chaeyoung says "The movie was recommended by Nayeon-unnie, it's probably good. I didn't know she studied film in college" she says, to which Mina simply hums as she concentrates on what the characters are saying and what the subtitles say, as there are parts in Japanese that she doesn't want her girlfriend to miss. Occasionally, Mina whispers in her ear some of the lines or words that she feels are oversimplified in the subtitles, but it's still Chae who keeps talking the whole time. She describes what happened in the scene as if they weren't watching the same thing, comments on how neat the costumes are, talks about how beautiful she thinks the composition is, suddenly switches to the Japanese occupation in which the story is set, asks about something she doesn't have time to read, laughs when she realizes that just like the protagonists, one of them is Korean and the other one is Japanese, she then clarifies that in this case it is the Korean who has to learn Japanese... and Mina starts to be slightly annoyed. 

She’s a person who enjoys silence and is easily overwhelmed by too much noise or loud voices, like when they get together with their other seven friends and there are a lot of conversations going on at the same time. She knows it's something she needs to keep working on, but if anything, a red line for her is people talking while watching series or movies. Just like her beloved girlfriend is doing right now, who doesn't seem to pick up on the little interest her rambling receives, being answered only with monosyllables, short sentences and humming. They have been watching the movie for a while now and she’s squirming in her seat because of the discomfort and her urge to say or do something about it. her urge to get it over with is interrupted when she remembers that the girl in her arms is sick and what she needs right now is more care, the least she can do is listen to her thoughts and concerns. Even if she has decided to share them right while they are watching a movie in each other's arms. 

Just when the scene in which the protagonists share a moment of intimacy comes and takes Mina's breath away, Chaeyoung speaks and it takes all of Mina’s will to restrain herself and take a deep breath until she hears what her girlfriend has to say now. "Mina-chan, don't move away; it's cold."

And that's when Mina puts all the pieces together and moves her hand to her girlfriend's forehead. As expected, it's quite warm compared to hers and then she leans down to place her lips on her girlfriend's forehead, who without quite knowing what Mina's intentions are, smiles in anticipation of a kiss on her forehead.  "Baby, you have a fever" she says softly. "Pause the movie. I'll get the thermometer and some medicine." That's certainly not what Chae, who now had her eyes closed ready to receive the next kiss on her lips, expected to hear. Mina can't help but laugh at the sight before her, but she quickly gets up to get everything she needs from the kitchen and bathroom. After a year of dating her, she should know better. 

Luckily, there haven't been many times when one has had to take care of the other while they were sick, but enough times that Mina knows that Chaeyoung starts talking non-stop when her fever starts to rise. It's something that will always make her giggle, it's an odd trait that she finds adorable. "Was I talking that much?" Chae aks to her girlfriend, realizing what's going on, to which Mina nods and chuckles. "I was about to lose it" admits the older one, making her girlfriend blush. "Sorry, I didn't realize" she apologizes and Mina shakes her head as she gets up to grab the thermometer and a couple of other things.

"Here" she says as she returns with the thermometer the box of pills, a sachet of vitamins and a glass of water. "You should uncover for a while, Chaeyoungnie" she says, using a soft voice as she tries to take the blanket she is wrapped in, but her girlfriend grabs it and looks at her with a pout "But I'm so cold". Mina laughs softly "Yesterday you didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, come on, let’s get the thermometer on you". 

Mina wasn't mistaken, the thermometer after five minutes reads 39°C, and the first thing she does is pull the blanket aside this time for real and go get a towel. After taking the medicine, they play the movie back on and now that Chae is starting to feel worse, it’s no longer being interrupted by her ramblings, but by all the times Mina has to get up from the couch to re-wet the towel, until she checks her temperature again and it has dropped a few tenths of a degree. Before the movie is over, Chaeyoung falls asleep. She has replaced the blankets with her girlfriend and now is curled up resting her head in the crook of her neck, she warms her hands under the older one's t-shirt and has one of her legs between hers. Mina, now unable to move and not knowing where the remote is, ends up watching the movie alone until the last word of the credits because she finds it impossible to wake her girlfriend when she is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

Fifteen minutes have passed — maybe thirty or an hour — at this point she doesn't even know and she decides it's time to go to bed. She carefully separates her body from her girlfriend's and whispers sweet nothings, trying to wake her up. "Chaeyoungnie, let's go to bed" she whispers for the tenth time and this time she finally gets a "Hmm?" but nothing else, so she decides to take charge of the situation and gets up to pick up her girlfriend until she sees the restrained smile on her face that ends up giving her away. "You're awake! Come on, let's go to bed." Chaeyoung shakes her head and uses her sick privilege, and those eyes with which she gets anything from Mina, and asks her to carry her to their bed.

It doesn't take long for them to fall asleep, but at some ungodly hour of the night, the younger one doesn't stop moving and shivering, thus waking up the older one. Still asleep, with her eyes half open and the dim light coming through the window, she gropes her girlfriend's forehead to check her temperature and when she notices the hairs of her bangs soaked in sweat, she sits up right away and looks again for the thermometer and the towel. This time it reaches 40°C so she immediately uncovers her and places the towel on her forehead, also cooling her face and neck down making her shiver and whimper. "Mina-chan?" she asks with her eyes closed as she doesn’t have enough energy to open them. "I'm here. Your fever is up again, but don't worry. Try to sleep; I'll take care of you" she reassures her and when she sees her weakly nod her head, she caresses her face gently and runs her fingers through Chaeyoung's sweaty hair.

That's how she spent the rest of the night, cuddling her girlfriend, wetting the towel with cold water from time to time and checking the temperature, which didn’t drop below 38ºC all night long. Between one thing and another, she has had time to drink two coffees and has taken the laptop to get ahead of work, knowing that it is best to spend the day with her in case she has to take her to the doctor. When dawn breaks, Mina writes an email to her company informing them she won’t be able to attend work today, she presses enter and listens to the beep of the thermometer, checking that the temperature has finally dropped. She places the laptop on her bedside table, takes off her glasses, deactivates the alarm on her phone and finally lets herself fall asleep.

The sun finishes rising, illuminating the entire room, this time it is Chaeyoung who wakes up. Beside her, she finds her girlfriend with noticeable bags under her eyes, her glasses and laptop beside her just like when she suffers from insomnia. This time, she’s also holding the towel with which she has been using on her forehead all night long. Although the image melts Chaeyoung's heart, she can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought that her girlfriend has had to spend the night awake taking care of her because of her poor choices. Soon, the guilt is replaced by the warmth she feels in her chest as she looks at her girlfriend, thinking how grateful and loved she is. After a year together, she still finds it hard to believe that a person like Mina is in love. And not only in love but willing to love her even more with the hairs of her bangs sticking to her forehead from the cold sweat of fever, or like that time when, after finishing her sculpture project, she suffered a contracture and had to help her bathe for five days, or when she drank so much with her unnies that she spent half the night vomiting with her head stuck in the toilet while Mina held her hair and just like today, she then prepared miso soup for her on each of those occasions. According to her, it works to cure everything.

With a smile on her lips, she carefully strokes Mina's hair and covers her with the blanket as she feels her cold skin making her wake up. "Take the medicine. I'll make you some breakfast in a little while, give me five minutes" she hears her say in her newly awake voice. And, unlike the day before, Chae accepts the offer as she feels she doesn't have enough strength to stand for more than five minutes.

True to her word, in less than fifteen minutes, Mina enters the room with a bowl of miso soup. "Thank you, Mina-chan" she says as she picks it up and places it on the nightstand to cool down a bit. "No problem. I made it yesterday, I just warmed it up" she shrugs as the other shakes her head. "It's not about the soup, it's about everything. Thank you for taking care of me and loving me so well. I love you" she clarifies, earning a smile from the girl in front of her. One of those gummy smiles that makes her eyes practically disappear. She says nothing, simply caresses her cheek and reaches up, seeking a kiss from her girlfriend, who, instead of joining her lips with her whispers "You're going to get sick" by way of warning, a warning they are both willing to ignore. "That's not going to stop me. I can't think of a better plan than spending anothers day at home with you instead of going to work. Besides, what was that thing your teacher said for you to end up in the rain... Live, feel, eat, love, laugh, travel and kiss without thinking about tomorrow?" She teases her girlfriend again about the rain incident and Chaeyoung nods her head before kissing Mina. "I guess I'll have to take good care of you" she whispers against her lips.

[sheinsidemymindvro]

could you explain this entire situation because im only catching bits and pieces of it

im rlly confused :/

hey, so elusin is a woman aged 26. she makes music. at the start of september last year i followed her on ig. i didn't know it yet but she is psychic and by looking at a photo of me she used her ability to connect with my brain and she can see my vision, hear my thoughts and because psychics are in ones consciousness they can also manipulate electrical currents that we use to move around (how we function) they can send pulses to your body's muscles like an electrical massage machine and make the muscles tense. they use this to annoy me and to do things like give me headaches, and constipate me. elusin is a person that acts like she is nice but is a horrible ugly person and im not the first to be the victim of her and her sister and friends psychic attacks. my blog is made to bring awareness to my experience and to out her for what she is. ive decided that i will tell people around me about what ive learnt about psychic abilities. let me know if you wanna know more about other things ive learnt, when i followed her at the time i was a listener of her music and just started to learn how to make music. it has been a year since. for the first six months she kept silent on abusing me through non verbal abilities such as stopping me from sleeping, mimicking my voice to manipulate me into thinking her whispers were my thoughts. making my body tense to try and trick my brain into thinking its anxious. after six months of that she and her companion psychics went into full psychic attack, and i get all the abuse plus i have constant verbal attacks as long as I'm awake. elusin is obsessed with trying to destroy my mental health and has changed her sleep schedule to my own. she is in norway and i am in new zealand. she is a neet who receives money from her parents and lives in one of their spare houses. that is how she is able to do this to me regarding time. my music is what has kept her around for so long. she wants to copy it, but i have made it very difficult for her by raising awareness of what she is doing to me on the internet to leave records, aswell as posting demo versions of songs. I'm only a beginner and she has been making music for ten years. it sucks that my creative journey is starting like this but i have decided to stop making music until she leaves me alone so that she has nothing to gain by remaining in my mind. i have stopped completely for the last two or three months and am just waiting this out. she constantly taunts me with immature mockery and the easiest way to describe her is that she is 26 and is extremely stupid. what has stopped me from having my mental health damaged from this is realising she is an idiot. she revealed to me her identity because she thought i wouldn't talk about it. i deal with a 12 year old in a 26 year olds body is the shortest i could put it. I'm doing ok now, i've learnt to ignore her and the worst she does to me is keep me up night so that I'm tired at work. I'm staying strong and positive and focusing on other areas of my life right now. thank you for asking me about it, i'm here to share my story and what i've learnt about human psychic abilities. it sucks that she decided to use her ability to try and break people and make their lives worse. i know there must be a lot of psychics out there, and they aren't going to be like her. the things i describe are very real and if a psychic would read them they might be interested and check it out. once they connect to your consciousness, they feel your being as if they are you, and when that happens they know your thoughts as you think. which isn't so bad. when that happens they have access to also your memories and can look through them, its like how you are able to think about your own memories and know them. this means other psychics will become aware of what she is and what she has done. I feel like if there are any other idiot psychics going on psychic attack sprees for years, people are going to become aware that psychics exist, i hope to make a place where other people that have gone through similar experiences can talk.

[azulera]

Rashy noticing that's something has been wrong with you for the last few weeks and you just won't tell him and he's stressing trying to figure it out

azulera

Don’t Leave Me Alone

Pairing: Marcus Rashford x Black Reader

Words: 3.5k

Notes: ngl recent events have made me not even want to post but i already had this done and as i said, i do value that ppl like my writing enough to send requests. so here is this! hope u like it anon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They'd picked the summer time to move in, late May to be exact, and Marcus was sure it was the smartest decision he’d ever been a part of. The prem season was ended, Y/N was out for the semester, they both had at least five weeks free to travel and relax, and there’d be no cold for the mover’s fingers to go blue in. The transporting itself had gone smoothly, each of her things finding its place in the huge expanse of his house, and the past month and a half of eating, sleeping and waking next to each other had been as nearest to perfect as Marcus thought life might get. So he couldn’t explain what, in the last seven days, could have possibly gone wrong.

“Is everythin alright, love?” He asked over the dinner table, which was sanded wood and brought over from Y/N’s apartment, much smaller than the one he’d used before.

She looked up from her plate and blinked. “Do you mean about dinner? I think I finally got the potatoes right this time, yeah.”

“No, not the food.” The side of his mouth lifted. “You’ve just seemed a bit down, this week, I don’t know. Just wanted to ask, see if there was anythin buggin you?”

“Oh,” She passed a hand over her hair. “Just tired, I guess. It was a rough semester.”

“Yeah, it was – you smashed it, though. But,” He paused until she looked at him, and was immediately taken by her brown eyes, which, unreadable as they were, he’d always found incredibly beautiful. “If anything’s wrong, you can tell me. I’d want to help.”

“Mhm.” She replied, and flitted her eyes away, pushing up from the table. “Let’s clean up?”

He nodded, though he wasn’t convinced, and stood up to take their few dishes to the kitchen. They rinsed and loaded in a silence not as comfortable as it ought to have been, and soon finished, Y/N pausing in front of the rumbling machine. From behind, Marcus pulled her into an embrace, fitting his hands around her waist and mumbling into her neck.

“Wanna come cuddle wi’me for a bit? We can watch the next Narcos.”

He felt her take a deep breath, and then lightly pat the hand that held her.

“I’ve got a little headache, actually. Think m’gonna lay down for the night.”

Marcus frowned. “You want me to watch the next episode? Without you?”

“Yeah, go ahead – I’ll get caught up when you’re on your trip next week. I’d just really like to lay down.”

Fatigue colored her voice, and Marcus felt a little more sure that she really was just under the weather, and not anything worse.

“D’you want me to bring you tea? Water? Medicine?”

She shook her head “no”, and turned around, another sigh hitting the fabric of his t-shirt.

“S’alright, then. Hope you get feeling better, babe.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then two to the dark spirals of her hair. “I’ll be up in a bit. I love you.”

A near silent “thank you” left her lips, and she squeezed his hand once. And then Marcus was left in the kitchen alone.

~~

After a mild pre-season session the next day, Marcus skipped showering to go straight to his car. When he’d seen her that morning, Y/N had still seemed poorly – she hadn’t left bed for tea and breakfast with him, and no silly texts or memes had come into his phone, the way they usually did during his long hours of training. Leaving now, he'd felt a strange, strong urge to get to her, like the sooner he did, the sooner things would go back to normal.

When he keyed into the house, however, her usual lounging spot – in the center of the living room sectional – was empty. As were the kitchen, bedroom, gym and laundry room that he walked to after. He found her instead on the back patio, cuddled into herself on the sunbed, with her curls spread wild and loose about her shoulders. A book was opened up and settled on her knees, and a pile of crumpled tissues sat just to her right.

“Hey, was lookin for you.”

The jitters that assailed him finally began to slow as he approached her, but didn’t fade completely.

“What’s all these for? You wasn’t crying, were you?”

“No, no, not really. It’s just this book. It’s pretty sad.” She tried to laugh at herself, but the sound came out wet and dull. “Or maybe I’m just dramatic.”

A range of emotions swept over him as he considered her pink, puffy eyes, the way she still wouldn’t hold his gaze for too long. His anxiety flared again, but he continued on with the plan he’d devised in the car, hopeful that it might still work.

“Well, I’m just about to run a bath, didn’t have time to shower after training. It could cheer you up, maybe. Did you wanna join me?”

It’s something special they do, just for them, a quiet and closeness involved that Marcus enjoyed far more than he’d ever said aloud. He hoped it would be enough to break through the wall he felt sprouting between them.

“But you’re all sweaty.” She said flatly.

He sucked his teeth, and sat alongside her on the thin mattress.

“That never stopped you before? When we were squeezed up in the one at your flat.”

“Right.” Her face fell, suddenly, as if she’d remembered something unpleasant. “But I’ve already showered, actually, a bit ago. Went out for a run.”

“That never stopped you before, either” Marcus wanted to say but didn’t, and focused instead on fixing his face to not reveal his disappointment.

“Okay.” He stalled a moment, weighing his next move. “Babe, are you sure everything is okay with you? M’a bit worried–”

“It’s fine, Marcus. It’s going to be fine, just …” She closed her eyes, and they glistened when they opened, focused seriously on his own. “I’m fine. Just stop pushing it, please.”

She gathered her book and trash and walked back into the house, which hurt him, but her last sentences hurt worse. If he wasn't meant to push, then what could he do? Sitting back and watching her pull further and further away from him was tortuous and seemed the opposite of what a good partner should do. Still, he nodded, even though she had already gone, and let his head fall into his hands.

A few hours later, in the bath, the jacuzzi jets going but alone, nothing was as it should have been. Already he missed the slide of her wet skin against his, how the brown of it went faintly pink the hotter she ran the water, which was scalding enough by Marcus’ standards. Now it felt lukewarm at best, the bubbles even less fluorescent, less bubbly than usual, without her there to scoop handfuls of them to paste on his face and chest, making herself giggle and cleaning their bodies in the process. He missed that, too, he realized, her body – it’s softness and strength, and how easily it yielded and came alive under his hands, but more concerning was her mind, which was somewhere outside its optimal state, and seemingly getting worse by the day.

He leaned his head back against the tub’s edge and sighed. It was a soft sound, quickly lost among the hum of the jets and the noise of his muscles singing and thanking him, but then he heard something else. Crying. Quiet, choked-off sobs from the other side of the en suite door, that he knew Y/N was trying to hide, but didn’t know why. The sound alone carved a hole deeper in his chest.

Before he realized it, he’d risen from the bath, shampoo still in his hair, and pushed open the door to their bedroom.

Squinting through the dark, Marcus could tell she was in the bed, asleep, or at least pretending to be. He debated whether or not to wake her – his every instinct begged him to, but the noise of tears had stopped, and he’d been specifically, harshly instructed not to “push”.

He waited several moments anyway, eyeing her sleeping form, burning up inside, but when she didn’t budge, he stepped back into the bathroom, mindful of the growing puddle he’d created on the carpet.

Under the shower head, he rinsed his hair and dried off, putting on his lotion and moisturizer in record time, all the while his mind racing, trying to settle the unease twisting up his chest and throat. When he got to the bedroom, he set his alarm and settled in under the covers behind her, as close as he dared.

Though her breaths came and went evenly, something in him, maybe something of his own creation, told him she was awake, that she could hear him. He felt free to unburden himself, and say what he wanted her to know.

“M’here for you, Y/N.” He used one arm to hold her against his chest, and the other to fix her hair scarf where it had ridden up in the back. “Hope you know that. Whatever it is, we can … fix it, talk about it, at least, together. Love you ... don’t wanna lose you.”

He knew the words were true, and could feel their sincerity aching somewhere deep in his bones. But he feared he was running out of ways to make sure Y/N believed it, too.

~~

By the following day, Marcus decided “not pushing” was no longer a viable option. Y/N was gone from bed even before him, and he turned to his night-table to find a message saying she’d gone out for an early run again and to get coffee. It wasn’t a strange occurrence on its own, but the way the last few days had gone, weeks really, this latest change to their patterns was enough to set him on a nervous edge. All through the day, his head was gone, drifting and distracted while training, and his thoughts sprinting to the worst - Y/N wanted to move out, she wanted to break up with him – in any moment he had idle.

But when his third check-in text sent from the rain-wet bed of the physio suite went unanswered, as did the two facetime call requests, it became slightly harder for him to breathe. The PT scrunched his face, but Marcus didn’t explain, wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak if he tried, and he’d been forced through two rounds of deep breathing before he’d let him off the table.

As soon as the gaffer released them, Marcus raced home through the rain that had begun to pour, calling one more time to no avail, but trying to stay rational. He imagined her sat in her spot on the big sofa in the sitting room when he arrived, apologetic and with some perfectly logical story of what had kept her from her phone all day, and what had depressed her mood the past few weeks.

He opened the front door, however, to silence, and her car keys still gone. His stomach dropped, and an icy, despairing prickle crawled over his skin. Was he overreacting? Or should he have pushed more?

Somehow he knew the rest of the house and even the back porch would be empty, just as silent, and found himself climbing the stairs anyway. His legs stopped by the room he used as his office, and he threw himself into the desk chair. He felt more calm, serious in there, for some reason, and composed himself enough to check her location, which was inconclusive, and click her contact another time. It went to voicemail once again, and he cursed, pulling at his hair.

After one heavy, frantic beat, he picked up the phone again to dial the only other number that would be useful at a time like this. The call picked up on the second ring.

“Mum?”

~~

Marcus’ car had been in the driveway when you pulled up, but when you stepped into his house – your house, now – there wasn’t any trace of him. Late afternoon training usually left him in the kitchen or theater room, scarfing down whatever meals his nutritionist prepared before conking out in his-your bed for a few hours until dinner.

You checked your phone, which had been dead up until the last five minutes when you’d connected it to the car charger, and realized it was closer to dinner time than you’d thought.

Dropping off your raincoat and bag, you went in search of him. The blaring missed calls and texts deserved a response, as hard as it would be to face him in person. You didn’t want him to worry any more than he already did, even though you felt there was little, if anything, he could do.

“Marcus?” You called up the stairs, but there was only your footsteps, the patter of rain, in answer.

You began climbing anyway, sure the sounds of the house would lead you to him, and eventually heard his voice, muffled through the closed door of his office. You stopped, and leaned against the wall to listen.

“She won’t talk to me, mum, she won’t, I’ve tried everythin. She’s not physically hurt, no, but something is wrong. I know that much. It’s like she don’t even want to be around me.”

There was a pause, and an ache began in your chest. The distress in your partner’s voice was palpable.

“But I’ve gave her space. And I’ve even asked her up front what’s wrong, and still nothin. I'm leavin for my trip in a few days, and I won’t be able to fix anythin from there. Reckon she might even be gone by then.”

Each second you listened, you fell further and further into the mire of guilt, and it seemed impossible to get out. Some external force, whose name or origin you didn’t know, forced your hand onto the knob and pushed into the room.

You met his eyes, cautious, but found nothing but relief, unshed tears in them.

“Y/N. Baby.” His voice cracked around the words, and he flew to your side of the room, crushing you to his body, burying his face in your damp hair.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where were you?”

You tried, but couldn't speak around the lump in your throat. All you wanted was for him to hold you again, and to apologize for everything.

“Y/N. You’ve gotta talk to me, please. M’goin mad here, I’ve been goin mad–”

“I’m okay, Marcus. I’m not hurt.” You squeezed at his hands, trying to loosen their tight grip around your back and also trying to ground him. “Went for my run and coffee like I said, and then around to visit my mates at my old flat. My phone died, and I didn’t realize. I should’ve known you would worry.”

He looked back at you with wide eyes still, nodding slow like it was taking serious effort to comprehend the words leaving your mouth.

“I’m okay, baby. I promise.”

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly, but much quieter, and none of the terror gone from it.

“Y/N, look, know you asked me not to push, but I can't just do nothin while–”

“Wait, Marcus – can we sit and do this? Please. And you’ve gotta get out of this jacket, babe, it’s soaked. You’ll catch a cold.”

The familiar sound of your fussing seemed to center him further, and he slid the jacket off, settling stiffly on the futon along the opposite wall. His legs were spread wide, and he raised his hands to his knees, fingers digging into them.

Hesitantly, you followed, standing between his legs, watching his eyes, which you’d missed, and his lips, which you’d possibly missed even more. You paused before lowering yourself onto his knee.

“Is this okay?”

“‘Course” He breathed out, pulling you the rest of the way down and rubbing his hands gently up and down your back. It was the first moment you’d felt at ease in the last two weeks, and you took the time to just hug him, wiping at a drop of water puddled along his hairline. Gradually, everything that had been pent-up seemed much easier to face.

“I’ve been real distant the past weeks, haven’t I.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s cause I’ve been confused.”

“Confused about what?”

The intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much, and you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. You made sure your voice still reached him clear.

“Confused about my feelings. About us, about us living together.”

His stomach had gone cold with dread again, but you took the silence as a license to continue. You knew he would stop you if and when he’d heard enough.

“It’s been great, it really has, Marcus. You’re my favorite person to be around – you know that.” His insides smiled at the mention, since the past week had convinced him of the opposite. Still, his expression remained the same.

“And you seemed so happy, having me here. But sometimes, lately, it got — I don’t know, overwhelming? Like, I had my friends in my last flat with me, and it feels like I spend so much time here alone. When you’re here, I don’t feel like that, but that don't feel fair to you either.”

He bit his lip. “I don’t understand.”

“I know, it’s confusing, but it’s like, I’m used to my roommates, us all together, a lot of noise – even when you’re alone you’re not really alone. So whenever you get here, I want to recreate that, spend every second with you, if I can. Didn’t want you to think I was clinging, though? ‘Cause I know how that feels, too.” You paused to take a breath, and Marcus rubbed your back, silent encouragement to continue.

“Thought you should be able to come home and spend your time on your own, too, if that’s what you wanted. So I was moping, but trying to give you that, for a while. Thought that if I could give you some space until your trip next week, I’d be okay. I could use that week to get myself together, stop being ungrateful. ‘Cause I am so lucky, aren’t I? To be able to live with this person I love so much. But I guess I only made it worse.”

“So it’s findin a balance, then, that was hard. Findin ... where you and I, personal time ends, and where “us” time begins.” Marcus summarized.

There was an unspoken “Why didn’t you just say so?” at the back of his statement that your partner was too kind and too patient to say. But you deserved it, so you said it yourself.

“Exactly. But I should have told you that it was eating me up. Not tried to isolate myself, or shut you out. And I’m sorry, about that. ”

Marcus let the apology ring out, and laced the fingers of one of your hands together, a quiet absolution. You felt lighter, now, after having spoken your piece, but knew that didn’t mean the conservation was over.

“Don’t think I need to say I forgive you, because,” He leaned his chin into his palm thoughtfully, before looking up at you. “Because I really get it, you know. I do. I understand that you need your own space, to feel like your own person still. And also that I’m gone, and it’s just you here, a lot, which is new for you. I get that it’s overwhelming, that findin the balance bit. But– I’ve never done this, moved in with someone before, either, have I? It’s excitin, but it’s a lot of other emotions, too. You can’t assume how m’feeling, or how I want to spend my time, just like I can’t read your mind about what's got you upset, innit?”

He paused.

“And it’s like, we’ve gotta figure it out together, don’t we?”

You nodded.

“So when -if, you’re feelin like that again, you’ll tell me? Even if you think it’ll hurt my feelings, or whatever. And if you need to go spend extra time with your mates to feel alright, we’ll sort it. And I’ll do the same. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

"You promise?"

You promised, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and chin against his head. With the most difficult part of the conversation over, your senses opened up enough beyond Marcus to notice that the sound of rain outside had ceased. The wet, grassy smell of his training kit finally entered your nose, and your good humor began to stretch its legs.

“So I don’t need to go pack my things?” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“No.” Marcus snorted. “Not unless you changed your mind the last 15 seconds.”

“Nah, I reckon I’ll stay. I'd miss the jacuzzi tub too much.” You sighed. “Saying no to that bath with you was the hardest thing I ever done.”

Marcus chuckled, enough air in his chest to do so now, and kissed you lightly on the lips.

“Fancy one now?” He repeated, and your “please” was fast and enthusiastic. He scooped you in his arms, and you held tight to him, murmuring quiet “I love you”s and knowing as you walked through the house –your house– that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[descendinginto-madness]

welt except he has a fever and desperately needs sleep

cw: descriptions of illness, high fever, being kinda delirious/out of it, sleep deprivation?, nightmares, headaches, mentions of death

contains spoilers for welt's hi3 lore

also, disclaimer! welt in here is very reluctant to ask for help and feeling bad about it because... well i imagine he'd react like this, BUT! needing help and asking for it is completely normal and valid and okay; please remember that and take care of urself ok!! ily /p

alright, so...

i'm gonna be honest since i found @bugbytez13 's blog welt sickfic ideas don't want to leave my head LMAO except i will write a detailed description of a fic instead of the fic itself. that's it that's the post

tbh this ramble in particular could be made into two separate fanfics (one sickfic and one specifically about the nightmares) but shh

i will forever be self conscious or anxious about things i post that aren't just headcanons or silly little rambles, but also... writing this went surprisingly smoothly so! enjoy the essay or something idk HAHA

======================================

so, about welt...

i just know this man is going to force himself to stay awake. maybe his self-sacrificing issues are less present now, and he doesn't immediately throw himself in danger in every fight ever, but he's still stubborn as hell. so he won't admit something is wrong. he won't admit that maybe getting way too little sleep several days in a row wasn't doing wonders for his immune system and he's now finally feeling the consequences. to be fair, he expected it might end like this, but he didn't want to take breaks - there's still too many things to take care of before they finally head to penacony. and now, he will still insist of taking care of everything, even though his body is basically begging him to go take a nap.

except maybe, he didn't even expect it to get this bad. or thought that he can just power through it. i mean, he's been through much worse, right? this is nothing compared to literally losing his body for some time. but he's sitting in the parlor car, and he's half awake, and unusually cold, and his head is hurting, and keeping up the act is getting harder and harder - but he has to, because the younger members of the crew are here too, even if only march is talking to him.

but they pick up on the fact that something is wrong, of course they do. his eyes are unfocused, he looks like he's about to fall asleep - or pass out - and march had to repeat herself twice for him to even fully process what she was asking him, and so suddenly stelle is next to him, attempting to touch his forehead - and he recoils. "i'm fine," he says, and it's probably a bit too quick and a bit too firm than he'd like it to be, and all of this is stupid, really, because he shouldn't be scared of someone touching him. how hot can it really be anyway if he's feeling so cold, right? but if that wasn't enough dan heng asks an even more dreaded question, "are you sure, mr yang? do you want us to call himeko?" and welt decides it's time to excuse himself, before he makes them even more worried. because even in his present state, he can pick up on the fact they're concerned, but at the same time unsure of what to do, and it makes him feel guilty. of course they're unsure; he's usually their caretaker, and he always knows what to do, and it should never be the other way around. he should've just stayed in his room all day, shouldn't he.

"thank you all for your concern, but i'm alright." he stands up. "now, please excuse me, i still have some work to do." of course that's true, but he's almost certain he won't be able to focus on that- but he just needs an excuse to get out from here and be left alone anyway.

but stelle is right next to him, and looking determined to accompany him to his room, too. "you look like you're about to fall, mr yang," they explain, and he wants to insist that he's okay once again, but realizes he's too tired to do so. it would take him at least a few minutes, and it's a few minutes he doesn't have nearly enough energy for. he just wants to finally lie down. so, he lets stelle essentially escort him into the hallway and to his bedroom, and make sure he doesn't collapse on his way there, and-- it's embarassing, honestly, because it's already so difficult for him to show himeko the slightest hints that something might be wrong, and right now the situation is similar but ten times worse - so it's also ten times harder for him to come to terms with the fact he needs to rely on someone.

"my... apologies for making you all worry," he says quietly when they reach his room, and he's so thankful that he left the lights off, because the parlor car was way too bright, and though the hallway was a bit better, it still wasn't good.

"it's alright," stelle shakes her head, and stands there in the doorway, even as he heads towards his bed and sits down. "i'll ask himeko to check up on you in a bit?" she asks, and he only nods, though he isn't sure if she can actually see it. he doesn't want to talk anymore, he doesn't want to think because even just that seems to make his headache worse, he just wants stelle to leave, he just wants to sleep-- he isn't even sure if he understood her question correctly, but he also doesn't have the energy to care. he falls asleep the moment the door closes behind her, fully clothed and half covered with a thick blanket, but even then he isn't allowed a peaceful rest.

memories from old battles flash before his eyes, silhouettes of enemies he once fought, those against whom he won - but also of those who severly injured or even killed him, and with that come the memories of the pain

and the fear of losing his body again.

when he finally awakens, sweating, shaky for reasons other than his fever, and still feeling pretty awful, it takes him longer than usual to remember where he is. it takes him longer than usual to remember that he's safe.

but now there's medicine and a thermometer on his nightstand, and a note written in himeko's neat handwriting - though he actually spots and reads it some time later - telling him to rest as much as he needs to, because she'll take care of everything; and only after he does read it and feels a sense of relief come over him, he realizes how much the thought of having to leave all the work in order to take a break actually stressed him out. he still feels bad about it, because of course he does, and of course he's going to apologize to everyone later.

but he's also able to sleep more peacefully now.

[alwaysonthemend]

The Nightcap | JMK

Author’s Note: This is the first fic I’ve written since my BBC Sherlock era so please bear with me. I’m a little nervous posting my writing after so much time but I also really want to get back into it because it’s so much fun! This is unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own. 

Summary: After leaving a party early, you and Josh head back to your place for a nightcap and a movie. Little do either of you know, things are about to heat up between the two of you. 

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, oral (f. receiving) hand jobs, p. in v. sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), swearing, minor sub Josh. 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3499

Preview: 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression.

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin, “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.”

“Cocky bastard.”

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

These parties always made you feel nervous. No matter how many of them you went to, you always felt slightly out of place and awkward. You barely know anyone here. You know the boys of course, having practically grown up alongside them, but it still felt too awkward to ask one of them to stay with you the whole time. You hadn’t even wanted to show up tonight, but Josh had seemed so disappointed when you said you might sit it out and so you’d relented and told him you’d at least come for a little while. Parties were his favorite after all.

The boys were abuzz with energy as you all made your way to the club downtown. They’d booked the whole place out and had invited practically all of their friends who lived nearby, along with a bunch of other people whom you had no idea who they even were. You’d made your rounds as you’d first arrived, saying hello to the few people you did know before making your way over to the bar to have a drink.

From your place at the bar, you could see just about everyone – it was far more packed than you had been expecting and definitely far louder than you were in the mood for. At this point, you were debating with yourself whether or not you should just get an Uber back to your house and call it a night. The day had been long, and this party wasn’t helping the headache mounting behind your eyes.

You rose from your seat, pulling out your phone to call an Uber when Josh slid up next to you, drink in hand.

“Hey y/n! What’s up?” His eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the club and his cheeks were pink from the excitement. He looked divine.

“Hey, Josh.” You smiled lightly, “I was just about to call an Uber actually. I’m a little tired and I just want to go to bed.”

His face fell slightly before his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you calling an Uber? Your place isn’t far, and I could drive you. An Uber would just be a waste of money.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer but I don’t mind paying for an Uber.” You gestured to the party going on around you. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to take you away from all this. You love parties!”

He gave you a toothy grin. He was wearing a low-cut V-neck shirt, and you could see the sweat on his chest glisten under the blue light of the club. He looked ethereal.

“Well yeah, I do. But I also would love to drive you back to your house. I wouldn’t mind. I promise.” He placed his glass on the bar and looked at you through his lashes. He looked sincere and you felt yourself caving.  

“Fine,” you conceded, “So long as you promise that you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, mama. Come on!” You felt yourself blush at the nickname as you followed him out of the club and into the night air outside. The cold wind was a stark contrast to the stuffiness of the club, and you took a moment to breathe and feel the coolness on your cheeks. You and Josh made your way to his car, and he opened your door for you before getting in himself.

“Thank you again, Josh. You really didn’t have to take me home.” You said after a few moments of relaxed silence. Josh glanced at you for a moment, a soft look on his face, before turning his eyes back to the road.  

“It’s really no problem, y/n. I don’t mind.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft sounds of Fleet Foxes floating out from the car’s speakers. This was why you liked Josh. As much as he always seemed to like to talk, he didn’t ever make you feel like you had to entertain or keep up a conversation for things to not be awkward. He was perfectly content to just sit in silence and enjoy another person’s company. You felt lucky that you got to see this side of him.

“I don’t know how you do it, Josh – go to all these parties all the time. I don’t understand how you find the energy to do it and never get tired.” You laughed, watching the lights of the city blur past your window. He chuckled.  

“I do get tired of it sometimes, I’m just a little better at hiding it.” He glanced at you again before continuing in a softer voice. “I didn’t really want to go tonight, actually. I was only going to go if you agreed to go, too.”

You looked at him, startled.

“Why? I’m not exactly the most fun person to be around at parties.”

“You’re very fun to be around, y/n. I love getting to spend extra time with you. I miss you when we’re on tour.” His honesty made your cheeks warm with embarrassment and you were having a hard time coming up with something to say in response.

“Well,” you said after a moment, “I love getting to spend time with you, too. I only showed up tonight because you asked.”

“I’m honored.” He laughed, his own cheeks tinged a little pink.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, and soon Josh was pulling into your driveway.

“M’lady.” He said with a dramatic flourish as he opened the car door for you again.

You giggled, taking the hand that he offered you as you stepped out of the car.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You laughed. “Do you want to come in for a nightcap? I’ve got a bottle of wine calling my name right now if you’d like to join.”

He gave you a dazzling smile.

“That sounds amazing. Lead the way!”

The two of you made your way inside and Josh hooked his keys on the little hook on the wall before plopping down onto your sofa. You entered the kitchen, pulled two wine glasses from your cabinet, and placed them on the table. You grabbed the bottle of wine from your pantry, brought it over, and poured yourself and Josh a generous amount. He chuckled as he watched you fill the glasses. You put the bottle away before bringing them over to the sofa where Josh was sitting.

“Thanks for inviting me in, y/n. I really didn’t want to go back there. Far too loud for tonight.” He took a sip from his glass as you took a seat next to him.

“Consider it repayment for driving me home.” You took a sip from your own glass, reveling in the bitter taste on your tongue.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to spend more time with me.” He said with a sly grin.

“Hmm. Maybe. But you did accept my invitation so maybe you just wanted to spend extra time with me.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe so, y/n. Maybe so.”

Your heart rate picked up as he said the words and you brought your glass to your lips and took a large gulp to try and soothe the nerves away. Being alone with him like this, especially in your own house, was making your brain conjure up dangerous thoughts – thoughts that you usually tried to keep buried.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You asked in a desperate attempt to break the tension. Josh probably knew exactly what you were doing but went along with it.

“Sure! Did you have a certain one in mind?”

“You’re the film guy. You choose.”

He chuckled, placing his drink on the coffee table, and got up to turn off the lamp. He walked back, grabbing the remote as he sat back down. You placed your own drink down next to his and you settled back into the couch, pulling a blanket off the back and covering your lap and Josh’s as he chose one. You weren’t sure what he chose, but your mind became otherwise occupied as he leaned back, and his thigh and shoulder pressed into yours. The heat from him spread through you like the wine had, leaving you warm and relaxed. His scent flooding your nose coupled with the alcohol left you feeling far more at ease than you had been before.

The movie started and you really did try to pay attention – but all your mind could focus on was the feeling of him pressed against you. You stole occasional glances at him, trying to memorize how the soft glow from the TV accentuated his jawline and how his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. At some point, he brought his hand to rest on your knee, absent-mindedly tracing patterns there with his fingertips.

You did your best to keep your eyes focused on the screen and eventually, you found yourself being drawn into the story. At least, you had been for a little while until you felt Josh’s fingertips slowly ghost their way up higher on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You glanced at Josh, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. He probably hadn’t even realized that he’d done it.

You turned your attention back to the movie, but it wasn’t long before Josh’s touch went even higher – high enough that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“Josh?” You whispered, scared to break the silence; scared to acknowledge what was happening. 

He turned to look at you, eyes dark and glistening in the light of the TV. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, swiping his bottom lip with his tongue. Your eyes tracked the movement before sweeping back up to his eyes. “Please tell me I’m not reading into this wrong. Tell me you want this too.” He looked so nervous – a look you’d never really seen on him before. He was always so confident, so sure of himself; seeing him look at you that way made you ache to reach out and soothe him. This was like a damn dream come true. You’d dreamed about being with him like this. You’d just never thought he would ever be interested in someone like you. There were thousands upon thousands of women who would kill someone to be where you were now, and Josh could have any one of them if he wanted. But somehow it was you that he wanted. It was you that got to see him like this – so vulnerable, his desire reflected clearly in his eyes. 

You must have taken too long to answer though, as he pulled his hand quickly from your thigh and stood awkwardly from the sofa. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I never should have assumed that-” 

You grabbed his wrist quickly, wrapping your fingers around him tightly. 

“Relax, Josh. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

He stared at you for a moment, his cheeks a bright red that you could see even in the dim light. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. That was so rude of me.  I can leave. I won't ever bring this up again.” He made to pull his wrist from your hand, but you tighten your grip on him. 

“Josh,” you whispered, “I want this. I want you.” 

He stared at you, turning your words over in his mind. He looked divine, bathed in the light from the screen, his chest heaving with excitement. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” You say as you pull him back down onto the sofa. You scoot backwards, bringing your back flush to the armrest and spread your legs. “Come here, Josh. I want this.” 

He crawls his way over to you, sitting on his knees between your thighs. His eyes are even darker than before, and the redness of his cheeks was now painted down his chest as well. You stare at him, waiting. Your heart is pounding, heat flooding between your legs as you stare at him. 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, as he brings his palms to your thighs and leans over you, your chests flush against each other. You ghost your lips over his, feeling their softness. 

“Please do.” 

He brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, immediately plunging his tongue between your lips in a greedy display of lust. You whine quietly as he licks his way into your mouth, and you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks between them. He presses his hips to yours and you can feel his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, and you can feel your own wetness soaking through your panties. You don’t remember the last time you were this turned on. You feel dizzy – drunk on lust and desire for the man on top of you. 

His lips leave yours and you chase them, but he brings them to your neck instead, pressing searing hot kisses down your throat. He pulls away briefly to pull your shirt over your head before returning his mouth to the hollow of your throat. Your hands move upwards, ghosting over the shaved sides of his head before tangling in his unruly curls. You give them a tug and he groans, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Do you like that, Josh? Like it when I pull your hair?” You ask breathlessly, tugging again at his hair. 

He moans again and you feel his cock twitch as he ruts himself against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck, mama…” he breathes, tongue licking over the valley between your breasts as he brings his right hand to the waistband of your pants. He brings his mouth away from you as he pulls them off, groaning at the sight of your lace thong. You mentally high-five yourself for choosing to put them on that morning. 

“Can I taste you, y/n?” He looks up at you from underneath his lashes and you swear you’ve never seen something more sinful. His lips are red and swollen and his chest glistens with sweat. He looks absolutely ravished already. 

“Whatever you want, Joshy.” 

He gives you a wicked grin before lifting your hips to slide your panties down your thighs. He brings them to his nose and inhales, moaning at the scent before tossing them somewhere in the room. That action alone makes your pussy ache with need for him, and you can feel yourself practically vibrating with excitement and desire. 

He lowers his head between your thighs and swipes his tongue through your folds, lapping at the wetness collected there. You breathe out a stuttered breath and throw your head back, eyes closed tight. He repeats the action, this time swirling the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit. 

“Oh God!” you whine, completely lost in the sensations of his tongue.  

He chuckles, and the vibration leaves you feeling completely drunk on arousal. He continues his ministrations, and it isn't long before you feel that familiar coil tightening in your belly. He brings one hand to cup your chin, thrusting his middle and pointer fingers into your mouth. You suck on them obediently before he pulls them out and sinks them into you, never once stopping with his talented tongue. He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against the spot that few men had ever been able to find as he suckled on your clit and your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave. Your vision whited out as your entire body shook and you let out a wail of Josh’s name. 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression. 

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin. “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.” 

“Cocky bastard.” You laugh, sitting up and reaching for his pants. You pull them off him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He tears his own shirt off his head and you take a moment to just look at him. You can see his cock still straining through his boxers and his chest is red and heaving. His chin is covered in your wetness. 

“You look divine.” You say, pushing him back into a sitting position. 

“Speak for yourself, darling.” He slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders and reaches behind you to unclip it with one hand. He uses his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re completely naked now, and Josh is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You throw one leg over him, straddling his waist and grinding your pussy down on his cock. His hardness coupled with the roughness of the fabric of his boxers gives you the most delicious friction. He lets out a whine that’s like music to your ears. 

“I don’t have any condoms…” He mutters breathlessly, hands gripping your hips so hard they’ll probably leave bruises. 

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.” You say as you lean down to kiss him again. He moans as you bite his lower lip. 

“You sure?” He says, breaking the kiss to look up at you through hooded eyes. 

“Yes. Wanna feel you all the way.” You say as you pull his boxers down. He kicks them off and you take a moment to admire him. His head is an angry red and pearly droplets of precum leak from it. You scoot down lower on his thighs and spit into your hand before wrapping your fingers around his cock. He whines again and lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch. You pump up and down a few times, increasing your speed as you go. He lets out a breathy moan that sends shocks of arousal down into your pussy. You want nothing more than to sink down on him already, but you continue to jack him off with your hand. You want to see how far you can push him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.” He whines, lifting his head to stare at you. You chuckle and speed up your hand while you start to massage his balls with the other. 

“Mama…” he moans again, and you can feel his balls tighten. He’s about to cum so you squeeze your hand tightly around the base of his dick. He yelps and groans, hips pushing up to try and chase his release. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to come inside me.” You let go of his cock and bring your own hand to your clit, flicking it a few times before sinking down on him. 

You both moan loudly as you bottom out and you feel like you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you alone. You sit still for a moment, adjusting to his size before you slowly start to rock your hips. He moans and slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing as you bounce up and down on him. 

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. So tight.” 

“You’re doing so good, Josh. Such a good boy for me.” You moan, picking up your pace. He groans and bucks his hips at the nickname. 

“You like when I call you a good boy?” 

“So much, mama. Wanna be your good boy.” He ruts his hips into yours, meeting you in the middle as you ride him. You can feel yourself right on the edge, but you want to see him cum first. 

“You are my good boy, Josh. You’re so fucking perfect. So needy. So good for me.” And with one final thrust into you, you feel him explode in you, painting your walls with his release. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Holy shit.” He whines, and the sound of his needy moans coupled with the pleasure painted over his face brings you to your own release as well. The coil in your belly snaps for a second time and you moan his name as you ride out your orgasm. 

You rise off him, collapsing onto the sofa next to him. 

“Holy shit.” He laughs breathlessly. “You are something else, mama.” 

You laugh, turning over to kiss him softly. 

“So are you, baby. You were so good for me.” He smiles lazily at you, eyes now shining with something more than just lust. 

“I’m glad you invited me in.” 

You laughed loudly. 

“Me too.’’ You could feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to cloud your mind and you rose slowly from the couch. Josh looked up at you, his messy curls falling onto his forehead. You extended your hand toward him 

“Stay with me tonight?” 

He smiled softly at you and took your hand. 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”