#tomorrow is going to stress me out so much

[howlingday]

Pyrrha: I have everything under control.

???: (Via scroll) UNDER CONTROL?! You were supposed to choose your future husband, not disappear out of thin air!

Pyrrha: Because none of the people YOU chose felt right. I'd rather choose someone who I want.

???: (Sighs) Fine...

Pyrrha: I'll keep you updated. We'll talk later, okay?

Jaune: Pommes aligot?

Pyrrha: (Thinking) I don't get to eat like this. Usually, the cameras would already be flashing and spoiling my meal, questioning who I'm dating and making my food get cold.

Pyrrha: Hah... If I knew being famous would be like this, I wouldn't have agreed... (Eats, Shocked)

Pyrrha: HEY! (Grabs Jaune)

Jaune: I-Is something wrong, ma'am? If the food's not to your liking, I could make you something else-

Pyrrha: I have a proposition for YOU! Tell me, what would you say to being married~?

Jaune: W-WHAT?!

Pyrrha: You become my husband, and I'll give you the world, the moon, and everything in-between and beyond~! All you have to do is keep giving me delicious food~!

Jaune: What kind of marriage proposal is that?!

Pyrrha: Well... Are you interested~?

Jaune: But this... This is so sudden... I don't even know your nam-

Pyrrha: Pyrrha.

Jaune: ...Jaune. But I feel like we're skipping a few steps here-

Pyrrha: You have nothing to worry about. I'll take care of all the preparations! (Gets up, Exiting) I'm going to speak to my manager about this. I'll see you tomorrow~!

Jaune: M... Manager?

Pyrrha: (Enters again) Um... Could I get that to go?

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

Jaune: (Seated)

Manager: (Slaps paperwork down)

Jaune: Uh... What is this?

Manager: Ms. Nikos has taken an interest in you, and she's arranged for you to be her personal chef. This opportunity could benefit you in the long run.

Jaune: I'm... I'm not interested.

Manager: If I were you, I would reconsider-

Pyrrha: Let me speak with him. Alone.

Manager: Very well. (Leaves)

Jaune: I need to get back to work, ma'am-

Pyrrha: I know. But hear me out, would you? It's clear to me that you love cooking, so much so that you are willing to work as many hours at as many jobs as you can to hone your craft. This would give you the same opportunity, but with less stress and more pay. This "engagement" of ours is just a formality. All you need to do is pretend to be my husband for one year so my mother doesn't worry about me. You look like a capable person, and I like capable people. So? What do you say?

Jaune: Listen, I appreciate your offer, but there's a lot for me to consider. If I rush into this, it could all go wrong in so many ways so fast-

Pyrrha: I'll do your taxes, too.

Jaune: DEAL.

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

Boy: (Red hair, Opens mouth)

Girl: (Blonde hair, Eating third bowl)

Pyrrha: Are you enjoying Daddy's pommes aligot? It's Mommy's favorite, too~! Say "Aaah"~!

Jaune: (Chuckles) Glad to see my hard work paying off~! Hope you're all ready for dessert~!

[suugarbabe]

slytherin boys x reader x friends!golden trio

summary: you invite the golden trio to a party and enzo tries to lighten up the party

warnings: mentions of weed

an: I really am gonna have to make a masterlist of all our yaps @musingsofahufflepuff <333

Your hand waved wildly in the air, catching the attention of the three people that seemed wildly out of place near the common room entrance. “I cannot fucking believe you invited them,” Mattheo’s arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head. Theo slung an arm over his shoulder, “It will be alright, compagno. We’ll get them many drinks, show of a very good time.”

Mattheo simply rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Teddy.” Theo flicked the back of Mattheo’s ear for use of the nickname, causing them to start bickering back and forth just as your three guests managed to make their way over to where your little group was gathered. “Erm, are we interrupting something?” Ron glanced at Mattheo and Theo with an unsure look, but you waved them off, “Oh, it’s fine. They’re usually like that.”

Ron gave Harry a sideways glance as Hermione spoke up, “Thanks for inviting us, we don’t usually come to parties much.” You nodded with a smile, “This one will be good, you guys will have a great time. You want a drink?” The three of them nodded enthusiastically, even Hermione, which was shocking to the rest of your friends.

You knew it wasn’t typical to have them here, in the Slytherin common room let alone a party. But you had a few classes with Hermione, and got paired with Harry for your last potions project and personally you found them both pleasant enough. You thought they might enjoy some time to relax, let loose, especially with exams coming up at the end of the month.

You led the trio back to your little circle, all of whom were seeming a little more relaxed at the idea of ‘the golden trio’ being in their sacred space than a few minutes before. As you approached the group, Enzo was smiling suspiciously. “What’re you up to, Berk?” Enzo held his hand to his chest in mock offense, “Me? Up to something? You must have me confused with Matt.”

Enzo then pulled a small package out of his jeans pocket and dumped a lone gummy into his palm before taking it and biting off half. “Now…who’s gonna take the other half of this thing, I can’t enjoy the party alone. Potter? Weasley?” Enzo wiggled his eyebrows while holding the half a gummy in his outstretched palm.

Both Gryffindor boys shook their heads, avoiding answering directly by taking large drinks from their cups. “I don’t know if you guys have ever done edibles before but he’s being generous only offering you half, most of the stuff he takes he makes on his own and it’ll fuck you up completely.”

Harry and Ron were adamant in their denials before Hermione stepped up to grab the edible from his hand. Enzo was quick to pull it away in a closed fist, “Woah, hold on, Granger. I don’t think you really want this.” Hermione simply rolled her eyes with a groan, “I know exactly what that’ll do and I need it immediately. Especially with these bloody NEWTS coming up, I’m stressed to hell. Hand it over. Now, Berkshire.”

Mattheo let out a low whistle, “Fucking Salazar, did that just come out of Granger’s mouth?” Enzo was beaming, holding his fist out before slowly opening it up again before Hermione’s face, “Here you go, darling. Made it myself, so I’ll be eagerly awaiting a review from you tomorrow. What’s your record for an essay…12 feet of parchment?”

“Oh fuck off, Enzo,” Hermione snatched the gummy from his palm and tossed it in her mouth. Ron and Harry looked on, gobsmacked. “‘Mione..what are you doing?” Ron placed a hand on her shoulder in concern. Hermione huffed, crossing her arms, “Honestly, Ronald..if I’m going to trust any of them, it might as well be Berkshire. Look a him,” she gestured to Enzo who then gave Ron a sweet smile, batting his eyelashes at the boy, “he’s basically a puppy dog.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, still slightly in disbelief yourself a Hermione’s blind trust, “Oh..baby girl…no. No, no, no, you’ve got the wrong one. Enzo is not to be trusted, weren’t you listening earlier?”

Enzo then grabbed Hermione by the shoulders with heighten enthusiasm, “Tonight’s gonna be so fun, Granger. Just you wait.” Mattheo gave Enzo a shove, “Fun? What do you mean fun?? Those fucking things you make have almost killed me twice!”

“What?!” Ron was rightfully panicked, giving Hermione a pleading look. “Hermione, if even his friends are warning you, maybe you should just sit down or something, let it hit you and then ride it out and sleep it off or whatever,” Harry started looking around the room for an unoccupied sofa.

Hermione, however, stood her ground, “You guys are being ridiculous. Kind of babies actually.” Enzo actually laughed out loud, slinging his arm over her shoulder with a cheeky grin, “That’s my girl…can’t wait for this to really hit us.”

You looked over at Mattheo who finally threw his hands up slightly in defeat, turning instead to make conversation with Theo. Then you looked over at Harry and Ron apologetically, “I’m really sorry for whatever is about to happen in forty-five to sixty minutes.”

It actually only took around thirty minutes for Enzo’s homemade edible to settle for her; and the reaction was vastly different than any of you could have expected.

Hermione essentially had a very high Enzo trapped on the nearest sofa, ranting profusely. “I mean seriously, Lorenzo…why do we even still use quills in the wizarding world? We have all this magic and advancements it gives us, but we have to dip a birds feather in ink over and over to write an essay? I mean, have you guys never heard of a pen before? Or gods, a freaking pencil? It’s so much easier, lasts so much longer. You can go to a corner store and buy a pack of five for less than two pounds. You guys really are wasting more money by keeping this worldly advancement to the muggles alone.”

Enzo sat facing her, eyes completely void as he stared in her general direction, but you weren’t even sure he was hearing her completely. Sure, he nodded every so often, but her words were not being heard in the slightest. And that fact was completely irrelevant as Hermione just kept. on. talking.

You had one arm crossed over your chest as you held your drink, “You know, she’s actually not wrong.” Harry nodded, “Actually, I have wondered that as well. It is kind of odd we’re doing this sort of medieval thing with the quills and ink pots.” Mattheo then leaned down between the two of you, taking a long sip of his drink before asking, “What the fuck is a pen?”

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In His Hands

summary: joaquin takes care of you in the face of your anxiety.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

wc: 2,018

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI, SMUT, established relationship, anxiety, oral sex (f!receiving), teasing, pet names

an: been thinking about joaquin being soooo accomodating + sweet, so here's the finished product. MINORS DNI i stg!!!

marvel masterlist

“Joaquin, don’t,” You whine, keeping your eyes on the study materials strewn about the coffee table. 

“Don’t what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

Though you can’t see him, you can hear the smile in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Ya sabes qué,” You suggest, reaching out to lazily brush his hand away from your shoulder.

He had started to rub them, massaging the tension out of your shoulders that always finds a home there. It’s sweet and you appreciate his care, but Joaquin’s touch is like a drug. Saccharine and sensual, it makes your insides warm in ways you didn’t know were possible until you fell in love with him. 

“Oh this,” He murmurs nonchalantly. His hands don’t stop, continuing to rub out the knots in your flesh. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m trying to study,” You say matter of factly.

“You’ve been studying all damn day, querida. You could use a break.”

“I can’t afford to break, the test is tomorrow. I need to cram as much information into my brain as I can.”

“You know so much already— look, it’ll be a piece of cake. You can do this, se que sí.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re the goddamn Falcon. This is important to me, Quino. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and I know you know how that feels. To want something so bad it feels like you can’t breathe.”

Joaquin did know. Looking up to Sam for all those years, wishing and waiting— working harder than he thought was possible brought him to where he is now. But, he’d also had you for a lot of that. Always there to make sure he was taking care of himself, that he didn’t wither away who he truly was for his dreams. He would always repay the favor; it’s what you deserve. 

“I know, querida, I know. This is important, but so are you. You’re so stressed— feel how tight you’re wound,” He murmurs, taking your hand and placing it on your shoulder. He’s right, your shoulders feel like bricks. 

“I could help with that,” He insists.

“You aren’t playing fair,” You whisper, leaning your head back against the couch as he increases the strength of his hands.

“Never said I would, baby,” He teases, planting a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, qué quires hmm? ¿Qué puedo hacer por ti?”

You shiver at the smooth sensuality of his words but still have the mind to tease him. “Aren’t you the one who distracted me? What do you want?” 

He guides your head to one side, rubbing at the base of your neck in a way that makes you pant. “That requires demonstration. Will you be my volunteer tonight?”

“I’m your volunteer every night,” You quip half heartedly. 

“I never hear any complaints,” His lips brush your ear as he strengthens the pressure of his fingers on your scalp. “Tell me, mi amor. What do you want?”

There’s no turning back now— he’s got you right where he wants you. And there’s no place you’d rather be right now. 

“Just…help me relax a little?” You breathe, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“Mmm. Stay right there for me. Don’t move a muscle, okay?”

“Mhmm,” You hum. A whine slips from your lips when you lose contact with his warmth, but soon he reappears, his hands smoothing up your thighs. 

“Lean back, head against the couch for me.” He watches you comply, grinning as he praises you, “Good girl. Now hips up, these shorts gotta go.”

You raise your hips without any defiance, and he slips them and your panties away, discarding them across the room. You’re nearly trembling with anticipation despite the fact that he’s barely touched you. 

He notices and in typical Joaquin fashion, refuses to breeze past it. Gently, teasingly, he sinks his teeth into your thigh before soothing the spot with a kiss. “I haven’t even started yet, querida and you’re already shaking. I do that to you, hmm?”

“Mhmm,” You hum again, becoming more malleable under his touch with each second that passes.

“Just me. Now, open up,” He murmurs, using his hands to spread you open for him. “There we go, mira qué preciosa.” 

“Quino, mi amor,” You sigh, letting one of your hands drop to card through his silky hair.

The picture you two paint right now is as sensual as it is explicit. Your head thrown back against the couch, legs spread beneath the coffee table to accommodate Joaquin and his touch.

All you can think about is what it would feel like for his mouth to finally be on you. At that  thought, your brow furrows…several moments have passed and you’re still without him. You squirm against him expectantly.

He huffs a laugh, breath warm against where you need him most. “You gonna tell me what you’re wanting?”

“Joaquin,” You murmur, beginning to grow frustrated by his teasing.

“You know how much I love to hear it.” He pauses, lips hovering just inches away from your sensitive skin, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re mine, querida. You know you are.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, his possessiveness only making you ache for him more.

“Touch me, Joaquin. This isn’t very relaxing, I thought I was promised that,” You challenge, tilting your hips up further to try and close the gap yourself. The words come out sharp, but there's a flicker of need in your voice that betrays the frustration of not getting what you want.

“Alright, querida, you got me there. Stay still for me,” He commands, his own blood now burning with desire. 

He starts a slow dance of laying sweet, alternating kisses on the delicate skin of your thighs. You know that he’s done teasing by the focused trail he’s leaving, the way his hands grip you and hold you open more firmly. And then his mouth is on you, tongue flicking gently against your clit. 

Heat pools in your belly, liquid and inescapable. You rest more heavily against the couch as you press up into Joaquin’s mouth, needy and mindless with want. There’s nothing like being at his mercy– he knows all of your spots, the speed and pressure you need to tip over the edge into ecstasy. He always takes care of you, never making you feel less than adored. 

He hums into your pussy, his nose brushing at your clit as his tongue dips lower to lap at your slick with more firmness. The taste nearly drives him into a frenzy, desperate to make you cum again and again for that concentrated taste of you. But he reminds himself that this is for you. This is to melt away your anxieties, to replace all the worry in your brain and body with nothing but pleasure and security.

Even as he increases his intensity, it's still steady with the intent to savor you. You continue to tremble against him, hips falling into a rhythm to match the pace of his tongue. He lingers when he feels your breath catch more sharply or when you whimper, reveling in how responsive you are to his touch.

“Mas, Quino, please,” You plead, your fingers gripping his hair more firmly.

He groans, eyes fluttering at the mix of pleasure and pain he gets from you tugging at his locs. “You sure?” 

He wandyou to be sure because he would be happy to lay here between your legs and serve you for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life if you let him, and god he hopes you’ll let him. 

“Yes. Please. Please, Joaquin.”

“Tranquila, baby, I’ve got you. Just relax, hmm? Let me make you cum on my tongue,” He coaxes softly and at the same time so slowly, he presses a single finger inside of you. 

“God, yes,” You groan, planting one of your feet flat on the ground so that you can buck against him. 

Even with just one of his fingers you feel so full, made to take him and him alone in any way that he’ll give it.

Joaquin’s mouth grows more insistent, and he leans back to get you wetter, spitting on your clit before his tongue glides through your folds. “Yeah? Like that?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, your chest starting to rise and fall frantically.  

“Hips down, honey, let me do all the work. Let me take care of you, okay?”

“But, I need more,” You whine impatiently, hips not stilling. 

“I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, anything you need, I’ll give to you,” He promises, pressing in another finger.

The delicious stretch winds you, the smooth movement of your hips stuttering as you succumb to him feeding your body what it needs. He stops all the teasing, stripping himself of the patience he’d built up so that he can ravage you the way you need. 

He’s as starved as you in the way he eats you out, messy and rushed, his fingers hooking to press incessantly at the sensitive spot inside you, making your legs clench around his head. You and Joaquin worked together seamlessly, the sound of his fingers inside you growing wetter and wetter as he winds you tighter and tighter.

“C’mon, querida, damelo. I can feel you. Let go,” He encourages tenderly in direct opposition of the urgency of his mouth and fingers.

It's all you need to fall over the edge, tumbling and tumbling more deeply into a pool of pleasure. Joaquin doesn’t stop, extending your high. Your hand knots further into his hair, and you pivot up against his tongue, taking all you need from him. Once he’s rung every drop from your body he withdraws his fingers, placing one last adoring kiss to your clit. 

With grace, he maneuvers from between your legs and comes to sit beside you, gathering you in his arms. “How was that? Feeling relaxed?”

“Mhmm, very relaxed,” You lean into him gratefully, feeling floaty.

He drops a kiss on your temple. He strokes your back with slow, comforting motions, a gentle reminder that even after all this, he’s there to hold you—body and soul. “Good, mi amor. Tienes hambre?”

The faint smell of his cologne clings to you as you lean into him, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips.  “Mhmm.”

“Is mhmm all you can manage right now?” He teases.

“Mhmm.”

He laughs with his entire body, shaking the both of you. “Let me get up to get you something alright? Don’t say mhmm.”

“Alright,” You agree through a laugh.

He kisses you one last time before hopping up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Joaquin?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow at you playfully, “Mhmm?”

“I love you.”

His face softens, grin goofy and adoring. “Te amo.”

—

“See? I told you you could, mi amor. Don’t doubt my girl or my methods,” He cups your cheek to kiss you breathless before producing the bouquet of flowers he hid behind his back. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your smile is childlike and giddy as you take the flowers from him. Leaning in once more you softly brush your mouth against his. You’re grateful for his presence, his support, his unwavering belief in you. “Gracias, Joaquin. No pude hacerlo sin ti.”

“¿Ah, sí? I’m the secret sauce, baby?” He teases lowly, crowding you against the wall despite being in a S.H.I.E.L.D testing facility.  

You feel your skin start to warm, butterflies breezing through your tummy. 

“You still feel warm, querida.” His voice dips, low and knowing. “Did I work you too hard?”

“You’re the worst.”

“And somehow the best. I can do it all.”

You roll your eyes playfully, pushing him back so that you can start down the hall. 

“We absolutely can’t work together in the field if you’re going to be so brazen,” You muse, studying the perfect bouquet in your hands. 

“Aw, cmon, I thought it would be fun. Let me change your mind,” He calls after you.

“You’ll have to work harder than you did last night to change my mind.”

His grin widens. “Challenge accepted.”

to join the joaquin torres taglist you must be 18+!

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[hmhas-00]

Ch. 20

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hope you’re ready for sad Remy hours. 💔 Like and rb please! It makes me so happy seeing y’all’s comments even if I’m stressing y’all tf out lol. Love you all! Tune in next Thursday for the next chapter!

Remy’s POV

The last thing I remember is shattered glass, inflated airbags, and a loud car alarm. A faint memory of a man reaching through my once tinted window with a phone to his ear clashed with visions of blood all over me. I could smell and taste it, bringing a hand to my nose and lips. When I looked down at my fingertips there was blood, so much blood. The sight of glass shards clinging to my skin where they dug in made me lightheaded, as I leaned my head back into the headrest and allowed my eyes to close. The last thing I laid my eyes on before waking up here was the crumpled up metal hood on the rental.

Now I was sitting up on two very flat pillows stacked together, and occasionally staring at the bright hospital ceiling lights, counting each tile between them. My nurse, Mrs. Parker, was very attentive, helping me do things I couldn’t do with one hand, and keeping me pumped with drugs. I don’t know what’s worse. The body pain or the dwindling anesthesia leaving my arm.

I was trying to keep down some lime flavored jello, when she came in with an extra blanket for me. It was warm, like it had just come out of the dryer. “Here you go, dear.” She extended it over my body, throwing it up in the air so it falls down, layering over the other blankets.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” I smiled faintly, licking jello off a plastic spoon.

“You’re getting discharged tomorrow. Is anybody picking you up?” She waited for me to finish my jello cup so she could thrown it in the trash.

I shook my head, “I have to uber to the airport. I’m checking flights today.”

She looked a bit troubled, frowning slightly. “Do you at least have a change of clothes?”

“What’s wrong with the clothes I had on before?” I tilt my head.

“They’re-“ she stopped herself, taking the empty cup from me. “-Not clean, my dear. There’s… blood from the accident.”

I nodded, touching the bandage covering the gash on my forehead. “I didn’t know it was that much blood.”

She fluffed the pillows under my back, “Did your momma ever come see you after I went home yesterday?” She asked. After waking up a couple days ago, she told me my mother would be on her way to see me. I assumed they’d contacted her while I was still under.

“No… She called me though. I told her not to come, that it’s too far of a drive.” I lied, knowing she called me only to fill her quota. Only to comply with the unwritten rule that if a family member is in the hospital, you have to at least check in. She hadn’t offered to come see me.

Nurse Parker gave me my morning antibiotics, then left the room without showing that signature smile I had seen every day since I woke up from surgery.

Two nights ago is when I woke up from surgery. A full blown panic attack as I came off the sedatives welcomed me into my hospital room. Mrs. Parker did her best to calm me down. I had very little recollection of the accident, or what happened after I got hit.

I had somewhat of a blurry image that slowly came to mind like a puzzle solving itself. It might’ve been one of those weird visions during surgeries you hear about in books, about your body coming out of itself in a birds eye view. Or maybe just a dream I had before waking up. The image was of a girl with dark hair and light complexion, with familiar facial structure. I was almost 100% it was Billie, but it could’ve been another nurse taking care of me. Her demeanor was sweet and careful, a protective energy enveloped my unconscious mind. It felt like the color gold, warm and mellow.

I knew it was just a mere hallucination. If Billie had really been here, she’d be here, still. She would’ve waited until I woke up, and I’d probably be having to convince her— force her to leave and tend to her tour.

How fucked up, I thought. My own mother not here, but Billie and her family would be if they knew. And that’s when it hit me. She’s the one I wanted here, not my parents. I thought about calling or texting her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I let her down and create a streak of undependability, and then ask her to come see me in the hospital? That’s fucked up. I’d already screwed it all up. All I know is I have to fix this.

Next morning, the nurses prepped me so I could leave. Nurse Parker seemed a bit off and I feared I had done something to tick her off. Maybe I asked for way too many cups of jello. I shrugged it off, signing the stack of discharge paperwork in front of me.

“Still no companion for the ride home?” She asked, wiping the dry erase board in my room clean.

“No, I’m okay, it’s not necessary anyway.” I shook my head, giving her a smile. I wonder why she cares this much, and if she gives all her other patients this much grief about being lonely.

Last night, she walked in on me crying. I couldn’t put a pin on what exactly was wrong. It was a multitude of things. There was, of course, being lonely. My absent mother, all of the mistakes I made in the past month somehow resurfacing as I’m trying to sleep, and poor Billie. This is how she must’ve felt each and every time I left her on the back burner. The mirage-like image of her looking down at me burned in my mind.

I felt like an idiot more than I felt sorry about myself. Especially after checking my voicemails and work emails. Joe was having a bitch fit over my no-call no-show. Despite having emailed HR about my accident, all he cared about was the fact that I didn’t call him directly. He gave me until the end of the month to recover, but I planned on working from home in the meantime. Eventually, Rachel reached out, asking me if I needed anything, and not to worry because Joe was in the middle of hiring a temp to fill in for me. I was replaceable, and it stung.

Nurse Parker folded up the extra blankets I no longer needed, as if to stay occupied while I finished up. Eyeing her, I continued to read through the never ending pile.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” I said to her.

“It’s my job, dear.”

I handed her the paperwork I finished, skimming through the last packet. “Can I ask you a weird question, Mrs. Parker?”

She looked up from her folding, “Yes, dear?”

“And please, don’t keep me here any longer, I promise this isn’t a crazy brain damage side effect thing.”

She laughed, putting a hand on her hip.

“Do people ever see things after surgery?”

She lifted a brow, “see… things?”

“Like,” I started, putting the pen down. “People.”

“Girl, I have nightshift today, don’t scare me like that.” She chuckled.

“No, no, not like that.” I laughed, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

She watched me run a hand through my hair. “Okay. Here’s all of it.” I gave her the last bit of papers.

She read through it, making sure all of it was filled out, then walking out without saying anything. I sucked on my teeth. I definitely creeped her out.

I sighed, waiting to be lead out of here. My feet dangled off the hospital bed while I rummaged through my purse for sunglasses to hide my horrendous eye bags.

Nurse Parker walked back in with a folded stack of clothes. Without saying a word, she placed it on my bed, holding eye contact with me, before walking out.

I examined the clothing, holding up a large, dark green sweatshirt with embroidering on the front, and pair of black joggers to go along. The sweet, yet woody base notes filled my nose when I brought the hoodie to my face. I know exactly who the clothes belong to, bringing me to tears.

I got up, changing into them as fast as I could with one arm, tears fogging up my vision. I quickly walked out with my things, finding Mrs. Parker.

“So she was really here?” I asked, probably looking insane to the other nurses behind the desk.

She blinked, “I have no idea who you’re talking about, dear.”

“The clothes— Did you see who dropped these off for me?”

She placed a hand on my good arm gently, giving me goosebumps. “These are yours, aren’t they?” She said, monotoned.

I furrowed my brows, “No—“ I stopped myself, looking down at the new outfit I was wearing. I know she said the clothes from my accident were bloody.

She looked into my eyes, nodding slowly, as if to confirm my thoughts.

“You’re good to go, look out for any bills in the mail. Your insurance is taking care of a good chunk.” A discharge nurse handed me a sheet with post-surgery care instructions and pointed me through the door.

I nodded, walking away. Before walking through the door I looked back at Mrs. Parker, who quickly looked away from me, making herself busy.

******

In the comfort of my own home, I became restless. There was not much for me to do, barely anyone to talk to, and other than working on a few ideas for the column, I bore myself half to death. I tried to keep myself preoccupied to no avail. It wasn’t like me to sit still with nothing to work toward. My mother’s voice echoed in my head anytime I wanted to just sit and relax instead of cleaning, or working, or anything she deemed efficient.

December 18th, Billie’s birthday, finally came around, and as the holidays quickly approached, so did the empty, lonely feeling I always get. This is the first birthday that Billie and I won’t spend together. We had spent every single one of our birthdays together since we were 7 years old. I wonder if she was somewhere feeling like a part of her is missing too, or if her other friends filled that hole for her.

The presents I wrapped about a month ago were still under the tree I put up the day after thanksgiving. The sudden, sharp pain of buried memories hit me each time my eyes landed under the tree. I had presents for both my parents, a few coworkers I actually liked, friends, but also Billie, and her family.

I thought about actually spending Christmas with my parents this year, because what else am I going to do? I hadn’t spent Christmas with them in years. The divorce made things difficult, and to avoid the whole “you chose to spend more time with mom over me, or vise versa” trope, I’d always make up some excuse about work, and spending it with Billie’s family instead.

Billie, I thought. Her birthday present under the tree was the biggest. Wrapped in smooth, gold, wrapping paper, the good kind that took time to rip open, and a huge, gold, satin ribbon bow tying it all together. Inside was a scrapbook photo album I’d been working on since she started the making of her new album, focusing on time spent together. She didn’t know I had carefully handpicked each photo, ready to write paragraphs on how much each moment they represented meant to me. I wanted to rip open her present and go through the album myself. I wanted to throw myself on the floor as I thought about how I originally planned to read through the scrapbook alongside Billie.

I imagined the two of us on my couch, indulging in some sort of fresh pastry, turning the pages together and cackling about each memory and the flashbacks they’d bring. She’d smack my arm, or hit me with a cushion, each time a picture she didn’t love of herself made an appearance, and I’d explain away her self-critiques.

I wanted to watch her open my gift ever so gently, the way she always did, examining each fold and admiring my wrapping skills, while I tell her, “Just rip it open!!” And then, she’d save the ribbon, as always, saying she’d use it for another gift, another time, knowing she’d just hold onto it forever in a box full of other used gift bags and bows.

Billie, I thought, Billie needs my gift. She needs to know how wrong she is about me not caring about her, about how I looked up to her, about how much I noticed her, and wanted her to know I was there. Even nuzzled in a corner reading a book, or typing away at my keyboard, while she wrote music and recorded into her microphone, I admired each careful note and harmony that went into her vision. The spark in her every time she successfully added to a song without too much pressure never went unnoticed, and neither did her best efforts to keep our relationship afloat.

I’m going to make things right, I thought. But how? Introducing; my new preoccupation project.

[beef-brisket]

Adam shifted nervously. He's usually good at his job. How did he miss something like that? He was so far off. Michael wasn't part of any police or law enforcement station. He was a pretty criminal.

Adam: ...I'm sorry, sir.

Lucifer sighed: Get some help, Adam. I mean it. We can speak when you're back.

Adam nodded and walked out.

Angel: Did he accept it?

Adam sighed as he cleaned his desk up: No. He's just putting me on leave and seeing the psychologist. I don't... I don't want to be here, Angel.

Angel gave Adam a soft smile: That's why you're seeing the psychologist. It's to make sure you're not going to crash into a bridge or anything.

Sitting at his desk, Adam put his head in his hands: You're not funny.

Angel: I'm not joking.

Adam: I wouldn't- I'm not... fuck, I don't know.

Angel: ...You're not what a lot of people thought, Adam. Just... take this time for yourself, yeah?

Adam: By going home? Where he's been? I... don't know if I can.

Angel sighed: Adam. There was no proof he was in your house. No evidence anyway.

Adam glared at him: I'm not fucking crazy, Angel.

Angel: ...That's why you're going to the psychologist.

-

Putting away his papers, Lucifer was packing up and ready to head home. He decided to only do a half day.

Angel: Sir?

Lucifer smiled and looked up at Angel: Afternoon Angel, what can I help you with?

Angel walked in with a bag in his hand: Well, a couple of the boys and gal's heard about what happened to you, so we went out and got you a few things.

Lucifer: Oh, you didn't have to do that!

Angel: Learn to accept a gift, big guy.

Chuckling, Lucifer went through the bag. There were a few boxes of chocolates, vodka, and juice. And a lot of junk food.

Lucifer: Well. This is impressive, Angel. Thank you very much, I appreciate this! May have to take tomorrow off to enjoy this.

Angel smiled and leaned against his desk: You should. Fuck knows you've deserved it. Speaking of, you heading home?

Lucifer: Yes. I uh... think I need to.

Angel: That's good. Three days wasn't long enough, Lu. And as much as I'll miss ya face, you need to rest.

Lucifer nodded: And... Adam?

Angel: He left about an hour ago. Don't worry about him, Lu. You've got your own shit to focus on.

Lucifer: ...You're right. Thank you again for this, Angel. I'll see you in a day or two.

Angel: Yes, sir~.

As Angel left, Lucifer stared at the bag before adding it to the other things he was taking home with him.

Once he reached his car, he was definitely feeling how tired he was. Surely today didn't take that much out of him?

Lucifer sighed: Stressed. Definitely stressed...

Serial Killer x FBI Agent

Bonus points: Lucifer is the senior agent training Adam and is also the killer he's training Adam to find.

Stalking

Possessive behavior

He would (and will) kill for Adam

How did you know I love problematic!Lucifer?

Poor Adam just wants to do his job, and now he has a serial killer after him.

[everythingseasoning]

As somebody still pretty new to Love and Deepspace… I am overwhelmed.

Are events always going to be back to back? I went from starting off with Painful Signal & trying to figure out how this game works (with zero prior gaming experience), to the Valentine’s Event of Tomorrow’s Catch-22, which just ended yesterday… Safe to say I’m out of steam and out of gems.

And gems are so hard to farm… it requires constantly battling increasingly difficult trials, which requires constant leveling up your memories (requires supplies), and you pretty much have to pay to play if you want to progress at a decent rate in order to afford gems to make Wishes.

Is there no break between events/banners? (Asking genuinely, please feel free to comment!)

And anyway, where can I find a timeline of future events? Is there an officially made one? I only get the news very shortly before a release, from love and deepspace’s Instagram.

And now we’re doing reruns, which YAY, but also, that means I have to pull TWO five-star cards of Rafayel within one week, if I want to get the cards I want… ohhh my god. I just don’t think that’s possible. Plus I don’t want to spend any more money :c It makes me feel stressed and sad, and I’m going to have to figure this out.

Will I just have to make peace with the fact that I won’t get all the cards I want? If anyone has any thoughts or advice, it’s very welcomed!

Thank you so much for reading & commenting if you do! :> 🩷

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[call-me-pup2]

I fear I have pupped too close to the sun 😬

Finally got the human dog bed thing full of foam and it takes up a quarter of the living room 😳 I knew it was big but I really underestimated it. I.e I may have to legit get rid of my bed for this instead 😅 Maybe I could put it on top of my current mattress but it was supposed to be a nap spot for the living room and it can't be since its too big ;-;

[rileys-battlecats]

was trying to figure out why I feel so Wrong rn and I think it's because I didn't follow my usual daily routine like At All and now my brain is freaking out. woke up at a vastly different time, had entirely different tasks throughout the day, took a nap at a weird time (to make up for the fact I had about 3 hours of sleep last night), zero human contact for the past 15 hours, and ate different food from usual (various leftovers from social events/thanksgiving, instead of cooking for myself like normal). and before I really realized that these were all things that were Bad For My Brain I was just wandering around my house like "why do I feel like garbage?? I've literally been outside so much today my brain should be happy"

ANYWAY here's to me not remembering I have issues with unstructured living because my days have been so similar for the past 4ish years that I straight up Forgot that things being too different too fast makes me crazy ✌️

[kowwpow]

I’m gonna be out most of the day bc I’ll be helping my dad with a big shopping trip plus being out after, so I’m going to be super duper exhausted

I don’t do well in crowded or loud places in the slightest, I get woozy and tired and I feel miserable or like I’m gonna pass out, and if the shopping isn’t gonna make me wanna cry, the outing after will bc it’s gonna be packed with lots of noise and people

I don’t say this because I want to complain, I just wanna give a super quick warning that I might not be active tomorrow as well as today bc when I get exhausted, my mental health tends to decline as well ;-;

so- a bit of a warning that I may poof a bit (sorry! 😣)

[figofswords]

the post grad why did i get an art degree what am i even doing what do i want in life where am i going crisis has finally hit i want to. lie down in the dirt. or something

[trenchcoat-full-of-snails]

.

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[rapidhighway]

Hnngg

[lemon-wedges]

...

[whentherewerebicycles]

ugh he woke up BRIGHT red which could just be a flareup of baby eczema but is a little worrisome when combined with his extreme crankiness. of course the doctor has no appointments today or tomorrow and the only clinic that could see us is a 70 minute drive away. nurse triage line put us on hold for 25 min and then hung up on us lol. I called back using a different number and was told that the nurse triage line no longer exists (??) which cannot be true because the coordinator connected me to it. I will call back again but am just gonna give myself a little mental break first. he also screamed his head off when I tried to put him down for his first nap sooo we are napping on mom to ensure he gets some sleep. I think I am gonna officially call it: we are back in Survival Mode this week!!!! on the positive side I made him laugh a lot by showing him he could grab his own toes. this revelation was absolutely hilarious to him and he wanted me to help him grab them many times in a row. peak baby humor lol. we will get through this.