#took a good handful of hours but it was fun

[megalony]

Don't Let Me Go

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon. Thank you for this idea I absolutely loved writing it I had so much fun and I hope you will all like it.

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Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Eddie have just had their first baby together, but (Y/n) doesn't know what to do when she starts to feel low. And she doesn't feel like she can look after the kids on her own.

(Descriptions of post-partum depression)

Enjoy.

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Closing her eyes, (Y/n) tilted her head forward and tried to stop herself from bursting out into tears. She shifted her heavy, weighted arms up a little while her head bent forward so her lips were meshing against her newborn's head.

The little girl was finally quiet, but to (Y/n), it felt like those cries were still swirling around in her head on full pelt. All she could hear was Lilah's incessant crying that tortured her all day long when Eddie was at work.

All night, (Y/n) had been up and down, up and down. She fed her, she rocked her when she wouldn't settle, she tried cuddling her but it didn't do much good. Lilah kept snivelling and whimpering like (Y/n) was a big bad monster. In the end, (Y/n) just went to sleep and kept her baby on her chest to whimper as much as she liked.

It must have worked because when she woke up a few hours later, Lilah was asleep and Eddie's hand was resting on the newborn's back.

She took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down and focused her eyes on Lilah so she didn't have to look around her. Her hand cradled the back of her head and she cuddled her closer, wishing they could both curl up and disappear.

"We can go home soon."

It wasn't as if they had been out all day. (Y/n) didn't have the strength or the energy for that. She had barely gotten from the bedroom into the living room. Then (Y/n) had burst into tears when she got comfy on the sofa and Lilah woke up crying for her bottle. Trekking into the kitchen and physically making a bottle had stolen every ounce of (Y/n)'s energy.

She wished Eddie was home.

(Y/n) knew it would be hard when Eddie went back to work after having two weeks at home with her and the kids. She just didn't realise how hard it was going to feel, being at home with Chris and Lilah without Eddie there as that extra support.

It would be alright if (Y/n) didn't feel like this. If she didn't feel so sluggish and broken. When Eddie was home it felt better. (Y/n) could ask him to hold Lilah or feed her so she could take a nap and he didn't bat an eyelid. She could move slowly about the house or just sit down with the kids and he didn't fuss. He took Chris to school and took Lilah for a walk to pick him up which gave (Y/n) a little while to herself.

Not anymore.

It had taken everything within (Y/n)- and a broken sob- to get herself up, put on her shoes and trudge out to the car. Driving had felt so frightening to (Y/n) because she could barely concentrate on whether the lights were green or red.

There was no possible way she could of left any earlier and walked Lilah to pick Chris up like Eddie sometimes did. (Y/n) had no willpower to move, she couldn't make it all the way there and back. It was either drive or try and call someone to bring Chris home, and (Y/n) couldn't call anyone and have them know that she felt so useless that she couldn't pick him up herself.

She burrowed herself further into Lilah whose little legs were wriggling and bashing into (Y/n)'s stomach every now and then. All (Y/n) wanted was for Lilah to settle down and go to sleep so that when they got home, (Y/n) could sleep too.

Whenever Lilah went to sleep these last few days without Eddie, (Y/n) had slept too. It was all she seemed to want to do. It was the only thing (Y/n) could do right.

She darted her eyes up and looked around the other parents waiting outside the school gates. (Y/n) was stood three feet from the car. It was a strategy. Standing this close to the car meant she didn't have to move far, Chris could still see her, and most importantly, no one would approach.

Everyone else was stood closer to the gates, all in their little coven circles, nattering away to each other. (Y/n) didn't want to be a part of that. She couldn't. She could barely string a sentence together and if the other parents started talking to her, they would see how useless of a mother she was turning out to be.

Lilah was (Y/n)'s first baby. When she married Eddie, she adopted Chris- something he had asked her to do himself- and it was the best thing in the world. Finding out she was pregnant a few months after their wedding was even better. They wanted kids, God (Y/n) wanted a baby of her own.

The other parents she knew from Chris's school had all been lovely, congratulating them, asking about the baby. They had all seen Lilah when Eddie came down to pick Chris up during those two weeks he was off.

Having Lilah was like a dream, but (Y/n) felt like she had changed personas somewhere along the line. She came home from the hospital and seemed to slump. She wanted to sit down, she had no will power to move. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton all the time, she was constantly fighting migraines.

And she didn't have low moods, she had no mood at all. Like she was on a factory setting, not happy, not frustrated or angry or sad, just… blank.

Having Eddie home made her feel better. He was a natural with the kids, with Lilah, and when he wrapped his arms around (Y/n), she felt soothed and relaxed and like her migraine was disappearing. But he had gone to work, and as soon as he left for that first day, (Y/n) broke down in tears.

She felt like she had been abandoned.

At some point, (Y/n) was frightened she was going to turn into some little puppy, crying by the front door from the moment Eddie walked out until the moment he came back home after work.

That thought frightened her like nothing else.

Relief swarmed in her eyes when she watched the kids start to flood out the gates towards them. As soon as Chris was with her, she could go back home. (Y/n) had been out the house for too long, she wanted to be back inside where she was safe and isolated and away from prying eyes.

"Mum!" Chris wriggled one arm out of his crutch when he reached her and glued himself into (Y/n)'s side, smothering his face in her stomach as he grinned. The touch made (Y/n) want to burst into tears and smile brighter than the sun at the same time, but she couldn't seem to do either.

He sounded so happy to see her, although she didn't know why. Why would anyone be happy to see her? She hadn't done anything of significance, she wasn't even being a proper mum right now. She felt useless.

"Hi, good day?" Her voice was on the verge of cracking when she lowered Lilah in her arms so she could lean down and kiss Chris's curls. She had to make some sort of effort with him.

She couldn't help but wonder what Chris had been like as a baby. She wondered if Shannon had ever struggled to get him settled and if he was a fussy baby. She wondered if Chris had been as glued to Eddie as their daughter now was, but then again, (Y/n) wasn't sure because Eddie had been in the army. He was away a lot so it would of been natural for Chris to cling to Shannon, not him.

Whereas Eddie was around now. He had been here for all of (Y/n)'s pregnancy, not just the birth and he spent the first two weeks barely putting Lilah down. Going back to work didn't change how infatuated Eddie was with Lilah and she always settled for him straight away.

It was overwhelming to have Chris attached to (Y/n) considering Lilah seemed to want Eddie more. She had made up her mind that her dad was better, but (Y/n) knew she could count on Chris to want and love her. He never got upset and demanded to have Eddie instead.

"It was fun," He reached his hand up and gently brushed his fingers up and down Lilah's back who wasn't crying or whimpering anymore, just fidgeting.

When (Y/n) nodded towards the car, Chris beamed and hurried to open the back door for (Y/n) since she had Lilah in her arms. He put his crutches and bag in the back and climbed in the front seat.

(Y/n) was glad to set Lilah down. It felt nice to cuddle her, but it was effort. Picking her up and soothing her was so much time and effort that (Y/n) physically couldn't seem to find at the moment. She hoped the car ride would put her right to sleep and that she wouldn't wake until Eddie came home.

Did that make her selfish?

"Let's go home." Her voice was quiet and she wasn't sure Chris even heard her, but it didn't really matter.

When she climbed in the car, all (Y/n) wanted to do was curl up and close her eyes, but she was the adult here. She was the one in charge. She nodded when Chris pointed to the radio. That was a good idea. (Y/n) couldn't afford to have no background noise because if there were no distractions, what would stop her from falling asleep right now?

"Not too loud," She murmured and ran her hand up and down her aching temple before she put the car in gear. The sooner they left the sooner they could get back home.

She didn't want the music loud. Usually she, Chris and Eddie would always have it loud and they would sing and blast out their favourite songs. But (Y/n) couldn't handle the noise. Background noise to keep her awake was fine, but loud noise to thunder along with her headache would only make her cry. And it would disturb Lilah which she couldn't afford when she couldn't settle her again; not yet.

Chris sat forward and began bopping along to the music, looking out the window like he was in a world of his own. Every now and then he looked over at (Y/n) and those chocolate eyes pulled at something in her chest. She didn't feel like talking, but he might.

"T- tell me about your day." It hurt to force herself to speak when all she wanted to do was go mute.

What she wanted was to disappear from the world.

But she didn't want to make Chris aware of that or make him feel bad, and the way he smiled and started to babble in a similar manner to his uncle Buck when he was excited made (Y/n)'s heavy heart lift just a little.

(Y/n) could feel tears burning in her eyes when they finally pulled up at home. All she wanted was get Lilah and curl up in bed with her. (Y/n) wanted to go to sleep and wake up with Eddie at home, there to sort everything out and make everyone feel a hundred times better.

"…mum?"

"Hm?" She bit down on her lip when she moved her hand to her temple and realised her hands were trembling.

Her shaking fingers scoured against her temple, pressing and rubbing circles into her skin to no avail. It did nothing to rid her of the thunder inside her head; the tormenting weather that no one else could see or feel. The pain that was growing and becoming agitating to the point (Y/n) was ready to lie in bed and never get up until her headache relented.

She looked over at Chris who was smiling as he flung his belt off, ready to get out the car.

"Can we watch a movie?"

She guessed by his tone that he had already asked her that and she hadn't heard him. Thank God. Thank God he was asking her that and not asking if they could do a puzzle or build another Lego creation or play a game. (Y/n) didn't have that much strength within her. But a movie, she could do.

"A movie in bed?" She loved the way Chris nodded and bolted from the car as if it were a race. (Y/n) might beat him to the bed if it was a race.

She could do that. She could get out the car, get Lilah, trudge through the house and collapse in bed with the kids. They had a crib attached to the side of the bed so keep Lilah close at night, and it was a godsend. It was originally so they didn't have to get up and go into the nursery five or six times a night to settle her or change and feed her. Having her in their room was so much easier.

But having the crib attached to the bed was better for (Y/n) when she felt like this. If Lilah whimpered, all she had to do was reach her hand across and her baby was there. She didn't physically have to get out of bed to pick her up and lay with her, only to go and make the bottles.

Right now, all (Y/n) had to do was prompt herself and plan out the route of getting from the car to the bed.

She could do that.

***

Running his hands up and down his face, Eddie tried to ward off the tiredness in his eyes as he stifled a yawn. His bare feet padded along the laminate hallway and his hands switched to scratch along the back of his neck. He felt like going to bed. He'd made the wrong decision of catching two hours of sleep on a night shift at the station last night and it had made him lethargic all day. He should have powered through instead.

He could hear the tv blaring with the movie Chris was happily watching before going to bed and Eddie prayed both kids would manage to sleep so he could have a bit of time with (Y/n) before the pair of them conked out asleep too.

He peered into the nursery since the door was partially open, but the room was empty. He continued down the hall and padded into his and (Y/n)'s room, but again came up empty. The light was on, the curtains were drawn and a pile of clothes were placed on the end of the bed. She had to be in the bathroom.

Eddie changed course and shuffled from the bedroom across to the bathroom. He lightly rapped his knuckles on the door and headed inside with a gentle smile lighting up his face when he looked towards the bath.

For a moment he thought (Y/n) was asleep. She was slouched down in the bath, her head barely resting on the edge of the tub and her knees were slightly bent, just scraping the surface of the water.

She had her eyes closed and her chin and lips submerged in the water, causing soft ripples to break out through the water with every breath she took. And her hands were tightly bound on Lilah's sides, keeping the newborn propped up against her knees and sat on her abdomen.

The sight made Eddie's heart explode in his chest and a surge of warmth spread through his blood. Although he was the tiniest bit unsure because of how relaxed (Y/n) seemed; the thought of her falling asleep in the bath with Lilah in her arms was daunting, even if it was far-fetched.

"Hey, there are my girls."

His voice was quiet and he used the edge of the bath so he could kneel down on the bathmat. His arms folded on the edge of the bath and he leaned his chin on his arms while his eyes looked over his wife.

He watched the way (Y/n) blearily blinked and turned her head in his direction, and the foggy look in her eyes told him she was even more tired than he thought when he came home. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, but Eddie was sure that wasn't the case.

Her eyes almost looked vacant, there was something distant in them that made Eddie feel like they were standing hundreds of miles apart rather than being less than a foot away like this.

The little hum (Y/n) let out made Eddie smile and (Y/n) slowly drifted her eyes from Eddie over to Lilah before locking back on him again.

All she wanted to do was disappear under the water and see if it would make her feel any better. To see if it would make her feel something, anything, other than dull and tired. She was almost numb. The hot water had relaxed her, but now (Y/n) felt like she was too relaxed, like she was about to slip into an abyss and never wake up again. And she didn't want to take Lilah with her into a dark abyss like that.

"Want me to take her? You look like you're about to fall asleep in here."

Eddie reached one hand out so he could brush Lilah's cheek. He was surprised the newborn was so settled and calm in here, she too looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. The water must be comforting to her.

It took everything within (Y/n) to stop herself from falling asleep in here. She knew she couldn't. A lapse in focus for even a second could cause her to loosen her grip on Lilah and have her baby sliding under the water. (Y/n) couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't.

Deep down she knew she should have tried to settle Lilah before she came in the bath. At least then, if (Y/n) wanted to sleep or let herself submerge under water for a while, she wouldn't have to focus on keeping her baby safe. But she couldn't ask Eddie to take her when he had been with her most of the morning, it wouldn't be fair.

And for once, Lilah hadn't been crying when (Y/n) had fed her and cuddled her. It felt too good of a moment to let go, if Lilah was settled for her (Y/n) wanted the moment to last.

(Y/n) wanted to agree, she wanted to let Eddie take Lilah, but she couldn't. She was the mother. She had barely done anything today, she had to at least try and act the part even if she didn't feel it right now.

She tried to speak, to form a sentence and actually talk, but she could barely get one word out.

"Headache." Her eyes looked up to her temple before she closed them and sank back down in the water.

"Again?" A spark of worry ignited in Eddie's voice as he leaned his cheek on his left arm so he could move his right hand out towards (Y/n). His knuckles brushed against her cheek and his thumb swiped beneath her eye just as (Y/n) leaned her head into his touch. She pressed her warm, sodden lips into the back of his hand, wishing they could just stay like this forever.

The lack of response gave Eddie his answer and he sighed as he leaned up so his chest was pressing into the edge of the bath. He moved his hand to nudge beneath (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head up enough so that he could steal a kiss.

It was strange to feel her lips so warm like this and the constant trickling of water running down the bridge of her nose and dampening both their lips made Eddie's nerves ignite. Their noses brushed and when he looked back into her eyes, his heart was struck when he thought she was about to cry.

His hand stayed cradling her face for a few seconds before he reached out and swiped a towel from the rail.

"Let me take her, and I'll grab you some painkillers."

(Y/n) nodded, barely having the energy to lean up for another kiss, but she tried. She felt his lips move to peck her cheek, then her neck and her eyes closed again to relish in the touch that seemed to linger on her skin and take her mind off the tears threatening to spill over.

She felt oddly empty when Eddie carefully eased Lilah from her arms and wrapped her up in a towel.

He cradled their girl against his chest, meshing his lips with the top of her head while he hummed and slowly got to his feet. But his eyes continued to find their way back to (Y/n). He didn't want to leave her, something was drawing him back like she was upset or in need of something, but he wasn't sure what. His hand smoothed up and down Lilah's back as he headed out the bathroom and into the nursery to get her changed. He would get a drink and some painkillers for (Y/n) so she would feel better when she got out the bath.

(Y/n) felt like going back to sleep. She felt like letting herself slump under the water and seeing what would happen, but she didn't. She couldn't.

She had to get out the bath now before she lost the little energy she had left. The energy she had reserved ready to will herself to get out the bath with Lilah.

If she didn't move now, (Y/n) knew she would lay here until the water went cold and then after that too. She would stay here until Eddie came looking for her again and she would panic him if she just went to sleep here. It didn't matter that she wanted to stay submerged in the water where she could escape. It didn't matter that getting out the bath and getting into pyjamas actually took effort.

Nothing mattered anymore.

The moment she was out the bath, tears began to trickle down her face as she slumped onto her knees on the bathmat in Eddie's vacant place and dragged a towel around her shivering frame. It wasn't cold. She didn't know why she was shaking like she was when she couldn't be, not after being in the hot water for half an hour or longer.

She was glad she had left her hair tied up. Washing her hair was such an effort and (Y/n) couldn't be bothered with it recently. Dry shampoo had become her best friend. Washing her hair involved effort, it was time consuming and the act of then having to dry her hair was even worse. (Y/n) didn't have the effort, and she hated walking around with wet hair.

She bowed her head and tightened her arms around her frame, letting the towel soak the remnants of water from her skin rather than actually drying herself. This was simpler. This was easier.

Everything drained from her head once she pushed up onto unsteady feet and secured the towel around her frame. She usually brought her clothes into the bathroom and got changed in here. She wasn't sure why she forgot her clothes.

A shuddering breath left her lips when she walked into the bedroom and noticed Lilah was already in her cot attached to the side of the bed. She wasn't asleep, but she was on her way. How long had (Y/n) been in the bathroom willing herself to get dry if Eddie had changed, dressed her and settled her already?

Loose tears trickled down the bridge of her nose, but (Y/n) swiped them from existence and set on getting changed. The feeling of Eddie's shirt hanging off her frame was comforting. His scent was calming and (Y/n) pulled the collar up so it rested on the bridge of her nose so she was overwhelmed with Eddie's scent while she wore her own underwear and pyjama shorts that somehow didn't feel right compared to Eddie's clothes. Nothing about (Y/n) or her things felt right anymore.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Eddie's voice took her by surprise and she turned to watch him walk back into the room. He set down a glass of juice and some tablets on the bedside table but once he perched down on the edge of the bed, (Y/n) moved too.

She didn't really think, she seemed to move on autopilot, aiming for Eddie like he was the only thing she could see and understand.

When she sat down on his lap, his arms moved to accomodate her and surprise flooded his face, although he would never complain. He wound his arms around (Y/n)'s waist while she deadlocked her arms around his neck and burrowed her face into his neck.

The feeling of each breath Eddie took pressing against her nose and the thumping of his pulse was consuming and warming and (Y/n) could smell his aftershave which always made her feel like she was home wherever they were.

"Amor, are you okay?" Eddie's voice seemed to fall on deaf ears while he glided his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and his lips attached to the top of her head. He tried to tilt his head back and lean his chest back a little so he could look down at her, but he was in shock to see (Y/n) was practically half asleep.

She could barely open her eyes and she couldn't formulate any words either. Her arms squeezed his neck and her legs bound tight around his torso, clinging to him like she was afraid someone was suddenly going to tear him away from her.

He found himself leaning forward into her and peppering kiss after kiss against her temple to see if it would do any good. It was evident (Y/n) didn't feel well and Eddie wanted to make her feel better, or at least calm her down in any way he could.

He automatically started to sway them from side to side while he stayed perched on the end of the bed. Not daring to move because (Y/n) seemed so calm and relaxed like this and he didn't want to shift the atmosphere.

But Eddie was sure he could hear her murmuring "Don't let me go." into his neck, and it made shivers break out beneath his skin.

***

I can't do anything.

That one thought swirled around in (Y/n)'s head more than anything else. The words danced in front of her eyes. The voice in her head was whispering them so much that it was the only thing she could comprehend.

Tears began to slither down the bridge of her nose as she tried to turn her head and smother her face into the cushion, but it wasn't working. Nothing she did was making her feel any better. Nothing made her feel normal; like herself.

Who was she? Why was she feeling like this?

Her knees coiled up higher to her stomach and her arms bound around her chest while she tucked herself down into the sofa like a child trying to disappear. (Y/n) wanted to disappear. She didn't want to feel like this anymore. She wanted to feel like herself, not whoever was now trapped in her body with her.

She couldn't move. She couldn't find the energy to get up off the sofa where she had been for most of the morning. Her throat was parched and dry from silent sobs, but she didn't hold the strength to go and get a drink. She didn't have the willpower to be bothered about getting a drink either.

She had a headache whether she drank gallons of water or forgot when the last time she had a drink was, so what did it matter if she didn't go and get one?

Her body was sluggish like it wasn't truly under her control anymore. She didn't have the willpower to get up for anything.

She wasn't hungry, she wasn't thirsty. She didn't have any motivation to move around the house. She couldn't take baths anymore because they were too tempting to slip under the water and she couldn't drag herself out of them. (Y/n) couldn't even get a shower yesterday or today because the effort was too much.

And her moods didn't feel like she was even sad, she just felt blank. A plain canvas, desperate for someone to streak a splash of colour across her and make her feel something. (Y/n) would give anything to feel angry, to feel like screaming or shouting or have too much energy and no way of letting it out. She would give everything in the world to feel as happy as she did in the months leading up to Lilah's birth.

She wanted to feel as excited, thrilled and loving as she did when she thought about being a mum while she was pregnant. She didn't think she would feel like this.

It felt horrible.

When a little sniffle followed by a whimper broke through the barrier in (Y/n)'s ears, she could feel her chest quivering as her eyes cast down to her daughter.

Lilah had been asleep in the rocker that (Y/n) had dragged as close to the sofa as she could so they were side by side. Not that (Y/n) could really find the energy to look after either of her kids today.

"Please…" (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was asking of her baby girl and she couldn't seem to find any more words than that.

But when Lilah whimpered again, flood waves burst down (Y/n)'s face and a matching, feeble sound clawed at the back of her throat. Was it time to feed Lilah already? She couldn't. She couldn't do it. She wasn't sure she would be able to move from the sofa or try her luck picking her daughter up.

Her hands began to scratch at her chest like she was clawing her way towards her heart that was fracturing into millions of tiny pieces all around her chest. As if she could bear her pain and show Lilah she couldn't help her; that she couldn't give her what she wanted. What was she going to do?

"Mum, want some dinner?"

Chris wandered out the kitchen and aimed for the living room to see if his mum was still in there. She told him this morning they would be having a chill day today and she had let him spend the morning playing video games in his room while she and Lilah had been in here.

About half an hour ago, Chris had made a sandwich since he was hungry and he presumed (Y/n) had been asleep. He didn't want to wake her when he could make himself something to eat. But he knew his mum hadn't had dinner yet either and Eddie told him to help and look after both girls when he went back to work.

The eleven year old went into the living room and stood by the end of the sofa, leaning over the arm rest so he could look over at (Y/n).

His head tilted to one side and his brows furrowed when he looked down at her. She was curled up in that manner that Chris would lay when he had stomach ache or when he wasn't well. He couldn't see her face, she was hiding in the pillow. And when he realised his baby sister was subtly whimpering and kicking in her rocker, he found it very odd.

Usually if Lilah began to cry, either parent would pick her up and see what she needed. And Chris could see (Y/n) wasn't asleep, she was shaking like she was cold.

"Are you sick?"

When Chris pressed his hand against her temple, (Y/n) couldn't help the way she shuddered and how mor tears streamed down her face and soaked into the cushion.

She was the adult. She was the parent, the one who was supposed to be taking care of him and Lilah. And she was laid here, useless, needing help herself like she had been reduced to a child.

She tried to move one hand away from clawing at her chest, and she managed to reach out and squeeze Chris's wrist, giving him the tiniest bit of comfort she could muster. When she seemed to lose her energy, she flopped her hand over the side of the sofa and laid her hand on Lilah's chest. The newborn temporarily stopped whimpering at the touch, but then she continued to kick her legs out and began to cry.

She was hungry.

She had to be hungry, (Y/n) couldn't remember when she last fed her. What kind of mother did that make her?

She needed to move. She needed to get up and pick her daughter up and go and feed her and look after Chris too, but she couldn't. (Y/n) didn't think she held the strength to pick up her baby, as horrible as that might make her.

"Mum?" Chris didn't like this. She still hadn't talked to him or said if she was okay. Was he supposed to go to his room again and leave her like this? Was he meant to sit down next to her? Should he try and cuddle Lilah for a while until (Y/n) felt well enough to move?

"Please… pl- call your dad." Why was it so much effort to talk? Why was it so hard to use her broken voice and gather strength to get her dry throat to work and talk for a change?

(Y/n) kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to look up and witness Chris's expression.

She didn't want to know whether he was angry at her or panicking or wondering why his mum was so useless and silly. (Y/n) didn't want to see the disappointment hiding within his eyes. She just wanted to make everything stop or make herself disappear.

Chris didn't need to be told twice.

As soon as she asked, he backed up and made his way down the hallway towards his room to get his phone. He flopped onto his bed, tapping his toes against the floor while his legs jittered up and down.

What would he do if his dad didn't answer? He couldn't always pick up the phone when he was at work. If he couldn't answer, did that mean that Buck wouldn't be able to pick up either? Would he have to call Carla if he couldn't get hold of anyone? Or maybe Maddie at 911?

"Dad?" Relief like never before swelled inside of Chris when his dad answered after four rings. Expertly cutting off the inner monologue and the doubling panic inside of Chris.

"Chris, everything okay?"

It wasn't normal for Eddie to get a phone call from Chris when he was at work. He couldn't remember the last time Chris had called him like this. It was usually (Y/n) and even then she asked him first and then called so Chris could speak to him before he went to sleep or if he wanted to talk about something.

The one and only time Eddie had gotten a phone call at work from his family was when (Y/n) had fallen and she needed him to take her to the hospital.

"Can you come help mum?" Those five little words were enough to spark a fire within Eddie and have him walking away from the kitchen so he could take this call in private.

"Help her, why what's happened? Has she had a fall?"

"I don't know… she's crying, and- and she can't get up from the sofa, she said to call you."

That didn't sound right. (Y/n) crying told Eddie that she was conscious and awake, and clearly in some sort of pain or agony. She didn't usually cry in front of Chris, she used to shy away from Eddie in the beginning of their relationship so he wouldn't see her cry.

But she wasn't in the bathroom or the kitchen after a fall or a cooking accident like he would typically expect. Had she been sick? Had she woken up in agony? What was the problem?

"Can you put her on the phone for me please?" Eddie needed to talk to her. He needed to know what was going on.

He heard Chris hum and he tangled his hand in the short hairs at the back of his head while he waited. His foot began to tap against the floor and he found himself holding his breath to try and calm his system down while he heard Chris shuffling and stomping, presumably into the living room to find (Y/n).

When he reached the living room, Chris held the phone out towards (Y/n), muttering a quiet "I called dad," to try and get her to talk to him. But he frowned when (Y/n) shook her head and burrowed her face into the cushion.

She seemed to have curled up even more since he left the room. Her body was contorted into a tiny ball and she had pulled the collar of her shirt up towards her eyes so Chris could barely see her. And so he couldn't see the tears streaming down her face.

"She can't talk, she's upset."

"Fuck… tell her I'm coming home now, okay? Please stay there with her until I get home."

One hundred and one thoughts ran through Eddie's mind on the way home. He was so panicked he wasn't sure whether he had gone through a red light or not, and he didn't have time to care.

What was wrong with his wife? Had she hurt herself? Had she been sick? It had been just over a month since she had Lilah so it couldn't be any complication after birth like an infection, that would of shown up sooner than this. Eddie could think of quite a few different things that could be wrong, and all of them were frightening.

By the time he pulled up in the drive he was in a state of panic, almost shaking from uncertainty and paranoid thoughts. Part of him wished he had taken Hen up on her offer to come with him and see if she could help in any way. But when Eddie didn't know the problem, he didn't want to have anyone else involved.

He barely shut the door behind him as he sped through the hall and into the living room, guessing that they were still in there since Chris said (Y/n) couldn't move from the sofa.

He paused in the doorway once he reached the living room, scanning the scene in the same way he did when he approached a scene at work.

Chris was sat on the floor in between the sofa and the arm chair, legs crossed, cheek leaning on the sofa to be closer to (Y/n). He had one hand stretched out, gently nudging the rocker where Lilah was whimpering but not making too much of a fuss at the moment. But his other hand was tightly squeezing (Y/n)'s hand like he was either comforting her or trying to keep her awake.

Not that (Y/n) looked like she was about to pass out. Eddie could barely see her. He had to step closer into the room to get a proper look at his wife. She was laid on the sofa, knees embedded into her chest so much that it must be hurting her stomach. One arm was hidden against her chest while she other hung limply off the side of the sofa to hold Chris's hand.

Her face was tucked into the cushion, but it was her expression that was frightening Eddie. Tears streaked down her face. Eyes half-lidded, lower lip wobbling as shuddering breaths left her lips.

"Buddy, can you give me a minute to help your mum please?" Leaning over, Eddie cupped the back of Chris's head and gently kissed her curls.

His heart almost burst when he watched Chris slowly get up, press a tender kiss to (Y/n)'s temple and head down the hall towards his room. He knew Eddie would assess and look after (Y/n) now he was home, there was no need for Chris to worry anymore.

Once he was out of view, Eddie weaved around the rocker and perched down on the sofa beside (Y/n)'s thighs.

"Baby, can I take a look at you?"

Eddie wasn't sure what to do first. He couldn't see any blood or a point of pain that (Y/n) was cradling or sobbing about. He could see she was awake and alert so he didn't have to worry about her passing out or having some kind of internal bleed or problem.

His hands slithered down (Y/n)'s arms to gently hold her biceps so he could try and lift her up. He couldn't help her if she continued to lay like this, he had to sit her up to assess her and talk to her. But the moment he reeled her up so she was sitting up with him, he was taken back.

Her arms deadlocked around his chest and she meshed her face into his chest like she was trying to turn them into one being.

He could feel each harsh breath she took and the tears that were soaking into his shirt and the way she was trembling was making him shake too. He curved an arm around her waist while his other hand cupped the back of her neck and he pressed a lasting kiss to the top of her head.

"Talk to me amor, what's going on?" The soft tone in Eddie's voice and the underlying tone of understanding made (Y/n) wail. She didn't want him to understand or be nice to her. She didn't deserve it.

When Eddie tried to tilt her back so he could look down at her properly, he pursed his lips when (Y/n) shook her head. She tried to cling to him even more until she was cutting off his breathing and making his chest pulse with a dull ache.

Instead of letting go, Eddie pressed his arms firmly around (Y/n) to the point he was sure he would hurt her in a minute, but it seemed to do the trick. Pinning her to him this tightly seemed to stop her from shaking and made her feel comforted, maybe even safe, he wasn't sure. But he was glad it worked.

"Talk to me," He repeated quietly. This clearly wasn't any sort of injury which was a bit of a relief, it meant Eddie wouldn't have to make a trip with the family down to the emergency room. But it still didn't tell him what the problem was.

"I don't know, I can't… I can't do anything. I feel bleak, my head… I want- I want to shut down."

It seemed to take a while for (Y/n) to find her words, but they didn't feel right. She couldn't find the right way to express how she felt or convey to Eddie what the problem was, but what she said clearly seemed to make sense to him because he nodded against her head and hummed.

She was so focused on breathing in his scent and meshing her face into his chest that she gasped when she realised his arms were no longer pinned around her. His hands carefully cupped her face and he tilted her head back so she was looking up at him, he wanted to check her over.

There was a mental checklist in Eddie's head while he leaned his chin down and looked into her eyes.

She was having a lot of headaches, she was suffering low moods. She was more tired than Eddie had ever seen her before and she was finding it hard to get up and to even start sentences and carry on a conversation.

"Do you still feel tired? Chris said you didn't feel able to get up." When she nodded, he hummed and ticked off another point in his mental list. "Have you eaten anything or had something to drink?" The shake of her head made Eddie's chest shudder.

His hands dropped from her face so his arms could bind around her, and (Y/n) didn't have to cling to him for Eddie to know she wanted to be held tightly. He squeezed her into him and leaned his cheek on top of her head while he gently swayed them from left to right.

He paused and waited while (Y/n) tried to move, but Eddie could feel how sluggish she was and the amount of effort it took for her to shift even a tiny bit on the sofa.

Eddie felt somehow relieved when (Y/n) twisted around so she could sit on his thighs and her arms bound back around his chest while she tucked back into him like a child seeking comfort. He gripped her waist, digging his fingers lovingly into her hip while he merged his lips with her temple and tried to kiss away her headache.

He knew the problem.

Eddie was ashamed it had taken this long for him to see the signs. (Y/n) had to get to this point for Eddie to realise something was wrong. Chris had to call him at work for him to see just how bad things were and to come home and try to help instead of blunder on, oblivious to his wife's torment.

She was depressed. Having Lilah had switched something in (Y/n)'s mind and during this last month, she had developed post-partum depression.

Eddie hadn't thought of this happening. He had missed the first four months with Chris being a baby because he had to finish his tour in the army. Shannon hadn't experienced any depression after having Chris, and neither had his sisters when they had their kids.

With how happy and excited they had been to have Lilah, Eddie vainly assumed (Y/n) wouldn't be at risk of developing this. But in hindsight he should have talked to her before now to make sure.

"Okay, I'm gonna call Bobby and let him know I can't go back to work for the next few days. And then I'm gonna get you an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible, we'll get you some help."

He could already see the phone calls planning out in his head. Bobby would understand. He would agree straight away that Eddie couldn't go back to work until (Y/n) was getting some help, he couldn't leave her like this and he had to look after the kids too.

And Eddie would ring the doctors now and make them give (Y/n) the earliest appointment. He didn't know the last time she had something to eat or drink, she was in agony in her mind and she couldn't get up. She needed an emergency appointment and Eddie wasn't giving up until someone listened to him and helped his wife.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?" He went back to swaying them from side to side while his hand ran up and down her back to try and calm her down.

She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't done anything to cause this and Eddie wouldn't have (Y/n) apologising when she hadn't done anything wrong. She was sick and she needed help, and that was exactly what was going to happen.

"I'm their mum, a-and I can't…"

I can't even finish a sentence.

A shudder passed through her body while she pressed up into Eddie, clutching him tighter like she thought he was going to agree with her. But the understanding in him was so loving and natural that (Y/n) didn't know what to think or do.

When she asked Chris to call Eddie, she did it because the kids needed him, not because she did. But having him comfort her and hold her broken pieces together like this was a remedy (Y/n) didn't know she needed until now. Eddie was going to help her. He wasn't going to let her feel like this for a moment longer and that was comforting.

(Y/n) didn't want to feel like this. She wanted to be a mother, she wanted to take Chris to school and look after him and cook with him and settle him. And she wanted to take Lilah out on walks to the park and actually feed and change her and cuddle with her and be a proper mum to both kids, rather than feeling like another child that needed tending to.

"Being unwell doesn't make you any less of a mum. You won't feel like this for long, I'll make sure of it."

(Y/n) felt a bit more free and able to move when she lifted her head from Eddie's chest so she could lean her cheek on his shoulder instead. She looked up at him with those doe eyes that always melted his heart and when he reached out to brush a stray tear from her cheek, (Y/n) leaned into the touch.

"I'm gonna take care of you."

His words were enough to calm down the raging storm inside (Y/n)'s mind and for a few moments, she forgot about the headache storming behind her eyes.

Her hand clutched at his wrist, keeping his hand where it was, cradling the side of her face. And she pushed up enough to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss. He was going to look after her, and that was all (Y/n) needed to hear.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam: You know, you can say what you want but we have had a lot of fun making the channel.

Lucifer: We really did. If I had the chance to do it all again I totally would.

Even Adams editing wasn't very good and he was even a little self taught. He was too impatient to learn it in school so he took matters into his own hands and figured it out.

Passed all his classes when the time came.

Adam: Weirdly enough, our third is the most popular.

Lucifer: Yeah, I think the battery died half way through.

Then they had to wait two hours before going on with the rest of their investigation.

Adam: Yeah but that's okay. Now we know to have more batteries on hand.

Devil Lucifer x Ghost Hunter Adam

@beef-brisket ((Here it is lol))

Adam is trying to prove that ghosts are real so he started a YouTube channel with his friend Lucifer, who unbeknownst to Adam is the literal Devil.

-

Adam: I'm telling you Lu, this place is super haunted I can feel it.

Lucifer was unloading their filming gear as they got ready to go into this supposedly haunted prison.

Lucifer: I don't know Ad, you'll need more proof than just the wind.

Adam frowned: It was a whisper and you know it.

[pantiesandpamperssissypart2]

"Love you, honey."

"Love you. Have a good day."

That was the last conversation Shane had with his wife Laurie before stepping out the door to go to a Brewers game with buddies. Except he wasn't going to a Brewers game. He was going to the house of a man named Steve, who he'd met online, a man who subsequently started blackmailing Shane and now demanded he come over to his house that was an hour away or "wifey gets allllll the pictures you sent me."

Once over at Steve's house, Shane promptly found himself over the 66-year-old fat fuck's knee, getting spanked until real tears started rolling down his face. When he finally discarded the sobbing pansy, Steve asked Shane what his wife's plans were for the day.

"Going to the mall in our hometown with her sisters," Shane said.

"Great! Daddy has a special surprise for his precious little girl," a fun line for an 8-year-old orphan girl to hear when she's learned she's been adopted by a millionaire, not so fun for a 29-year-old man to hear from the man who could ruin him at a moment's notice.

With that he taped his sissy into his thick Pampers, after locking him into a cock cage. Then came the purple tights and the Powerpuff Girls sweatshirt. Then the walk to the car and the two-hour drive to...his hometown's mall. Shane cried all the way when Steve told him the final destination. "There's a very good chance we don't see your wife. But there's a 100 percent chance she gets the photos if you don't waddle through that mall like the good diapergirl you are, my little princess."

For half the drive daddy made Shane suck on a paci, which caught the attention of more than a few drivers and passengers in other cars. For about 20 minutes daddy had Shane lay his down on his crotch. "Someday I'll have you sucking daddy's cock for real on a drive," he noted.

Finally they arrived at the mall. Daddy drove all around the parking lot and when Shane spotted his wife's car the begging and pleading really began but that only made daddy harder and more determined.

"Sissy, it's a big mall. Very little chance we see her in any of the stores we'll visit. But there's 100 percent chance she gets the pics if you disobey."

Soon the sissy found himself in the parking lot. Diapered. Dressed up in his sissy finest. Crying. Daddy taking pictures of him. Daddy hoisting a diaper bag over his shoulder "so I can change your poopy Pampers in the family room when you mess your diddies. And hey, if we do see your wife, maybe she'll help me."

Then daddy took his sissy by the hand and marched him into the mall.

[ford-pines-lover]

Tolerate it

when you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Here is this one!! @chillinglyadventurous

Tags: SFW, falling out of love, i actually think this is sad

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome

There was nothing better than going to the shack after a shopping trip with Mabel. She strides inside the house with her millions of bags. It was like she was gleaming with the dust of a million stars. There was nothing that could hurt her or stop her from her excitement. 

When you two walked inside the shack, everything was in its place. It seemed as if nothing was touched. Made sense; Dipper was out with Stan doing some grunkle, nephew bonding, and Ford? Well, he hasn’t seen the light of day in a week. It was starting to worry you. Usually he at least makes an effort to come see you before bed or come up for dinner, but lately it hasn’t even been anything. Long nights waiting and hoping that your boyfriend would come and sleep next to you. Waiting to feel another person next to you was excruciating. 

You got snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Mabel say, “That was so fun, y/n! Thank you for taking me!” She gives you a hug and runs off to the attic to drop off her stuff. She was like a younger sister to you. Maybe even a daughter in some sense? Your own feelings were conflicted. 

You walk down to the lab to see your boyfriend. He was slouched over his desk, papers everywhere. He was drowning in his work. You surmise that he had just found a new discovery. Perhaps a new equation or a new creature found here in the Falls. You knew that just recently Ford had gone deeper in the woods than he had ever felt comfortable. Unsurprisingly, he took Dipper with him. They came home with cuts and bruises. Neither of them unscathed.

“Dear, I’m fine,” he had said.

So you believed him. 

“Hey, love.” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t move, still surrounded by the pages and pages of math and science. You knew you had an affinity toward the man, but sometimes you couldn’t pinpoint why. He wasn’t involved in your relationship often; he never came to bed; hell, you can’t remember the last time you two had sex!

I take your indiscretions all in good fun

It took him a bit to notice you. 

“Hello, my dear.” He turned to look at you. His chair squeaking as he moved as if he hadn’t moved in hours. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You give him an incredulous look. Actually, you hadn’t slept in days. Ford had been so engulfed in his work that he hadn’t gone to bed with you in days. He sleeps on his desk, waiting for some sort of answer to just pop out of his work. You press your lips together, not wanting to disturb the peace. Deciding to keep your mouth shut about your feelings, you say, “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple nights, but I’ve been okay.” You turn around to leave, “There will be dinner in about an hour if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,”

“If that’s what you wish.” You tearfully look away and walk back upstairs. Your movements were saturnine. Everything hurt; nothing felt real. The love you had once in the past almost feels obsolete now. There was almost a remorseful feeling inside you for him. He has gone through so much; you should just let him be. But if your needs weren't being met, why should you stay?

I sit and listеn

As you set up your new art station that you had bought at the store, you open the paints. They were an expensive set of oil paints that you were so desperate to try out. Painting wasn’t a new hobby, just one that had gone dormant over the last couple years. Now that you have a rather inadequate boyfriend, you were ready to take on this hobby once again. 

“Hey, kid.” You see Stan approach you with a weary look on his face. He must have just gotten back with Dipper, but you hadn’t seen Dipper yet. “I know that you and Ford are going through hard times right now." He leans on the doorframe with a phlegmatic disposition. “Just know that he does still love you and is just having a hard time. Just give him some time, kid. He’ll come around.”

“Stan, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” You said with an indigent look across your face. “I love him, but I can’t feel so empty anymore.”

“Look, kid, I can talk to him for you if you’d like. He’d better listen to me. I wouldn’t want to lose a family member over some stupid math equations.” He sighs. "You know how he’s an opportunist. He knows what he wants, and he takes it.”

“Please talk to him for me; he doesn’t seem to listen to me.” You gulp. “I know how he is. I just want my Stanford back.” 

“I’ll be back, then. Hang tight.”

You watch as he goes out of the room. You were stationed in the kitchen with your supplies, so it was easy access to the lab from there. Your mind starts to wander. What if you really were just a bother and in the way? What if there was really nothing there? 

You take a deep breath and lather a thin coat of white paint on the canvas. You weren’t quite sure what would come of this painting, but you knew you were emotional, and this was one healthy way to get it out. At least that's what your therapist had said at one point. Instead of taking it out on other people, taking it out of a piece of canvas was healthier. Or something. 

You started with hues of grey and blue. For some reason there was something compelling you to use those colors. Maybe they stated how you felt. Grey and empty. Blue and sad. Or maybe you just liked them. 

Below you, you could hear fighting. It was the two men that you had trusted more than anything in the world. You couldn’t quite make out what they were yelling to each other. It was loud. It shook the house. There was a negative tone flowing through the shack. It was dizzying.

“C’mon Poindexter… shes… kid! Don't…care... her?” You heard most of Stan’s words. But what hurt the most is what his brother said after. 

“Yes, I care, Stanley! It’s all just become too much, and my work is far too important! I don't understand why none of you can see that!” You heard that one clear as day. It was perfectly clear why he didn’t want to see you. You were too much. 

“Why the fuck would you say that?” You could hear Stan getting louder with each word. “At least talk to her! Have dinner with her. Once. Before you decide to throw this away.” He had an ardent tone. 

“What are you trying to imply?”

“That you’re being a selfish idiot and throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to you!”

I polish plates until they gleam and glistеn

You got up from your spot at the table. Your mind is whizzing and whirring from the fighting in the basement. You try to think of something, anything, to keep your mind off of what Ford had just said. Too Much? You walk over to the sink and start doing the dishes. You were staring off, out the window, trying not to completely break apart. 

Was Stan talking to Ford a good idea? Or did it really cause more issues than what was worth? Maybe Ford is just saying shit because he’s sleep deprived. He does tend to get more annoyed than usual when he hasn’t had a good rest. Doesn’t everyone?

“Hey, y/n. Everything good?” You jump, seeing Dipper behind you. When did you start crying?

You wipe your face with your sleeve and put on a fake smile. He definitely could tell. “Yeah, why what’s up?” 

“I’m not stupid, y/n. I hear Grunkle Stan and Ford fighting.” He gave you a judgmental look. You knew he wasn’t stupid, but it wasn't fair that he had to listen to his Grunkles fighting. 

“I know you’re not stupid. I’m genuinely okay; I am just a little overwhelmed.” You took in a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

He gently nods and walks away.

You're so much older and wiser, and I

You think about the age gap between you two while you sit down to continue to paint again. The age gap was significant enough that you were 30 years younger than him. It was hard for him, yet it seemed like he thoroughly enjoyed the relationship. 

You two had met at the library while checking out a book. Then on from there, Ford invited you to go on adventures with him and invited you to play D, D, and more D with him. You two were really bonding. Giggling and blushing as your two characters in the RPG were flirting and Dipper being grossed out the whole time. Mabel was way too excited about her Grunkle’s newfound crush. 

Then you lost your house. The landlord decided that he wasn’t going to rent out his house anymore, and it left you homeless. You couldn’t afford to just move spontaneously. This had left you to live out of your car for about a week. It was horrible. Worse than you had originally imagined. It was overcrowded, messy, and humiliating. 

The Pines family had heard what happened. Stan was the first to offer you a room to stay in. 

“Kid, times are tough. I know what it’s like to be homeless. So I’m offering you a space, free of charge.”

“Are you sure?”  You had said, worried about overstepping bounds.

“I wouldn’t be offering it to ya if I wasn’t sure.”

That was that. You were now an honorary member of the Pines family. 

With that came more time spent with Stanford. This led to stolen kisses in the lab and sleepovers in your bedroom. It became routine to see him often. One day you had asked him out formally. It was just to a diner. Nothing fancy, but it meant something to you. 

After that, you and Ford were inseparable. Constantly going on adventures; hanging out. Life was great. Until now. 

Ford stands before you, arms crossed. You could tell he was upset. 

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a bit, but I would like to know if you were okay with going out for dinner.” It seemed like it took a lot out of him just to get that out. 

“Yeah, sure.” You tried to not let it be known that it upset you that he was being this way. “I think I have an idea. I’ll come grab you in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Alright.”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

You decide to stand in his lab doorway. He had agreed to dinner. Hopefully things will not go to shit and everything will go to plan. 

“You ready?” You held out your hand, and he hesitantly put his hand in yours. It didn’t feel right, but you kept it cool.

“Yes.” He had said rather coldly. Oh boy.

Use my best colors for your portrait

You stare at the portrait you had made as it sits in your tote bag. This was a gift to him. It was of you two stargazing. The colors were magnificent. It has ranges of blues, violets, and reds. You hoped that he would like it and see it as a means to start over. 

Maybe not.

Lay the table with the fancy shit

You led him outside to the place you had set up. It was a picnic on a hill. Just like you two had once had a date there months ago. There were plates of food, fake candles, flowers, just about anything you could imagine. 

“It looks... nice.” Ford had said as he forced a smile. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You pop open the wine bottle and pour yourself a big glass. 

Throughout the whole dinner, he was not attentive. He really was in another world. There was nothing that could make him want to be at this dinner that you had planned. Yet here he was. 

And the portrait stayed in your bag. 

And watch you tolerate it

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

staring at you. l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Summary:  he saw her in a bar and then everything changed

Warnings:  fluff, slow burn, two people are looking for each other

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a few days now. I hope for a few chapters. I don't know if anyone will read this... if that's you, good luck.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

chapter 1.

The first time he saw her was at the bar where he was with Benny and Will. It was a nice Friday night. The place was full of people having fun, pleasant music mixed with the buzz of conversation and laughter, and Frankie was sitting at the bar slowly finishing his second beer.

The feeling that he was being watched didn’t leave him, so he raised his eyes and looked around. At first he thought that Will might be looking for him in the crowd, although he had clearly told him where he would be. 

And then, on the other side of the bar, he saw gentle eyes staring at him. For a moment he thought that she must have mistaken him for someone else. But when their eyes met, she smiled, and Frankie felt a pleasant tickle in his heart.

She raised her drink as if she was making a silent toast, and he did the same, without taking their eyes off each other, they finished their drinks.

The decision was quick, but not quick enough. The urge to approach her was overwhelming, but when he finally lifted his ass off the bar stool, another woman approached her, whispered something in her ear, and she quickly stood up.

One last look, and she disappeared into the crowd of people.

The second time he saw her was a few days later, in a local store. And this time, the universe wasn’t on Frankie's side. 

His brain quickly registered a familiar face. After all, he had spent most of his last days thinking about this lovely stranger. 

He completely ignored Benny, who wanted to buy a beer for Saturday's match, and, leaving him the cart, he set off after his target.

His eyes were devouring her figure, and the girl must have sensed that someone was staring at her. She turned around and spotted him almost immediately. A beautiful and sincere smile appeared on her face, as if she had seen a long-lost friend.

Frankie smiled too. He moved towards her, bypassing a family with small children and an old couple arguing over laundry detergent. But this time he failed too.

The girl answered the phone, grabbed her shopping and quickly headed for the exit. Before she was out of sight she turned around and found his gaze. Frankie saw a sad smile on her face, her lips moving in a silent "I'm sorry."

And she disappeared again.

After a week he spotted her in the city, but before he could react the traffic lights at the intersection changed color and the driver behind him started honking, urging him to move.

"Fuck!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

It wasn't even a game of cat and mouse. It was more like catching smoke and Frankie found himself looking for her among other people almost all the time. To no avail.

"Does she even exist?" Benny asked when he finally told him about her.

"Of course she does!" Frankie mumbled, scratching his head and pulling his baseball cap back on. "I don't even know her name, but I can't stop thinking about her."

He didn't know her name. He knew nothing about her. All he had was a few exchanged glances, a few smiles. It was next to nothing, but it seemed to Frankie that that should be enough to find her. Right?

And then fate dealt him a good card for a moment. Or maybe he himself contributed to it. He took the same chair again in the same bar. Now alert. His gaze wandered over the faces of the guests and each time he straightened up when the door opened. The first hour passed, and then the second. When doubt slowly started to creep over his skin, that's when he saw her.

She must have entered when he blinked, because Frankie couldn't find any other explanation for it. She was talking to some girl, but her eyes wandered around the place as if she was looking for someone. Him?

Now Frankie didn't wait anymore, didn't hesitate. He immediately headed towards her, afraid that she would slip away from him again. She noticed him the moment she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and her face lit up.

"Hi." was all he could manage.

"Hi." she replied, her voice sounding beautiful in his ears. "We should stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, a bit stressful." he laughed quietly.

He felt as if her eyes were devouring him and heat seeped into the back of his neck. No one had ever looked at him like that, it was even a little embarrassing.

Frankie wanted to say something, make a joke or ask if he could buy her a drink, but then a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

In a second her hand was on the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. Her lips met his in a soft and sweet kiss. A few seconds during which his heart almost stopped beating.

When she pulled away from him she was still smiling.

"I had to, I'm sorry." she said.

"Jesus, don't apologize." he rasped in surprise. "I mean... We’ve already done this in my head." God! He would do anything for that smile. "Maybe I can buy you a drink?"

"I can't. I should probably go now..."

Something in her eyes changed, some small detail that Frankie noticed right away. He quickly pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket.

"Will you give me your number?"

She hesitated for a split second, but took his phone anyway.

"Just please don't give me the number of a mechanic or something." he snorted, and she shook her head. "Your real number?"

"Check."

She handed him the phone and Frankie dialed the number she had entered. A soft ring sounded in her purse. They both laughed.

"I'm Frankie, and you are?"

She gave him her name, and he repeated it quietly. It was a nice feeling, finally being able to name the being who had been living rent-free in his head for a long time.

He opened his mouth to say something when the phone in her purse rang again.

"Not me now," he joked, but she lifted her hand slightly and reached for her phone.

She was visibly worried as she read the message, and then looked around for her friend.

"I'll have to go now, Frankie." she said as she nodded to her friend “I wish I could stay longer, really.”

He could tell in her voice that she really meant it. He felt strangely sorry for her, he didn't know why.

"Maybe we could meet up?" he suggested.

"Will you text me?" she asked.

"Sure. If that's what you want..."

"Yes, please."

She squeezed his hand gently, smiled, and left.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[footnoteinhistory]

Time for my big NYC Marathon 2024 recap post!! This post is very long, roughly organized borough by borough, and mostly for my own personal record since I don't feel like putting pen to paper rn

And because so many of you have supported me through all of this (like... all of everything in my life for a long time), I thought maybe some of y'all would be interested. Here is my detailed experience (+ some photos!) <3

Got up Sunday morning at 4:30 am, on the Midtown bus to the start by 6 am. My start wasn't until almost 11 am but I was so anxious about logistics I was happy to get to the start village earlier and sit around bored rather than later and panicked. Fortunately my charity team had a heated tent where I killed three-ish hours by people watching, forcing myself to eat bagels w/ peanut butter and bananas and graham crackers until I couldn't stomach any more, and meeting Meb Keflezighi (!!!). I've read Meb's book twice this year and was too starstruck to say anything to him other than thank you but! What a neat surprise to start the day. A grizzled volunteer held out two water bottles and I took one, then he gave me this look and shook the other bottle at me until I took that one, too. He knew. Trust the volunteers.

I was battling serious nerves leading up to the start line, which I'll skip for brevity's sake bc this is going to be a long post anyway. But by the time we lined up on the Verrazzano Bridge (I was on the lower level), I felt good. Excited. The anthem, the helicopters, the cannon, Frank Sinatra, crossing the start.

As you might know bc I've agonized over it extensively on this blog, my training did not go according to plan this year. I hurt my left leg in April, possibly a fracture, and struggled throughout the summer. I wrestled with the idea of deferring. Finally I decided that I would finish the race, even if I had to walk the entire thing. After a few weeks of speed-walking and rebuilding my strength, I felt okay enough to put a little more pressure on my leg and jog occasionally. I hadn't *run* more than 2-3 consecutive miles since the spring. Literally took a photo of my leg in the starting village with the thought it might be the last time it ever looks normal in case my shin snapped in half in some horrific freak stress injury mid-race. Peak anxiety brain.

So starting slow on the Verrazzano's uphill, I was so anxious I would feel that familiar twinge in my leg. I've felt it for months. Sometimes I'm not sure it isn't a phantom pain now. But I didn't feel it that first mile. Or the second, leaving the Verrazzano and thinking "oh, this could be fun." Or the next mile, entering the first neighborhood. So I ran for the next 10 miles straight.

Brooklyn: The first half of the marathon goes through Brooklyn. It was such a fucking party the whole way. Our wave ran through some quieter streets and neighborhoods before hitting 4th Ave, but it was the perfect warm up. Everyone in the world and their mother tells you not to go out too fast in a marathon but it is IMPOSSIBLE not to—not only was I overjoyed to be running without pain for the first time in weeks, I was zooming around giving as many high-fives to the kids as I could.

I had my name pinned to my shorts and it was 100% the right decision. I've heard from runners who say it was too overstimulating or they had trouble locating friends and family when everyone was screaming their name, but I needed it. I'll get into that later, but even at the start it was such a boost. A woman on a highway overpass shouted "Hi Emily, welcome to Brooklyn!" The first kid I high-fived smacked my hand and said "LET'S GO EMILY"

The entirety of 4th Ave was incredible. I loved running through Brooklyn during the half in 2023 and I loved it this time. So many kids, funny signs, people offering tissues, live music, flags and banners. There were many Israeli and Palestinian flags throughout the course, which wasn't a surprise but still stirred up feelings. There was an older man standing alone with a Palestinian flag and we connected (I don't know how else to describe those fleeting interactions between runners and spectators but I had many; it's not quite a wave, sort of a nod, mostly eye contact, you just both know you're focused on each other for a moment). He yelled "stay strong, run for peace!"

Around Mile 8 at the Barclays Center I felt a cramp in my right calf. I assume this was a consequence of not having run more than eight miles for months before (better to go in undertrained than overtrained, they say, but perfect-amount-trained would've been great). That cramp stuck with me for quite while until every muscle was so cramped they were indistinguishable. But we will cross that unfortunately literal bridge when we come to it.

I managed to stretch it out, walk it off, and power on through until I met my family for the first time just before Mile 11. I liberally applied some Biofreeze to my calf and accidentally dropped my bag of SaltStick chews—a crucial error. Goodbye proper sodium intake for the second half of the race 😰

But I was still blissfully unaware of that mistake, running through the Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods and the rest of Brooklyn. Until I realized it on the Pulaski Bridge headed into...

Queens: If Brooklyn was a party, the two miles I spent in Queens were a brutal reality check. My calf cramp was not getting better, I was mad about losing my saltsticks, passing the halfway point was more intimidating than heartening. My half time was around 2:50, which is MUCH faster than I was expecting, but I knew I couldn't keep it up. I really do not remember Queens. There is a 25-minute gap in my camera roll from the Pulaski to the Queensboro. I recall it being loud, and I was a little overstimulated. I hadn't used headphones yet but put them in to check on the Bills game. We were losing, which did not help my mood.

Queensboro Bridge: I train in a hilly area, so I wasn't too scared when people spoke in hushed whispers about how difficult NYC's course elevation is. But the mood swings I experienced on this fucking bridge. First of all, it's never-ending. It goes up and up and up and up. I thought of Jareth, because they loved Simon & Garfunkel and The 59th Street Bridge Song is on the playlist they made that I listen to when I miss them. My calf was cramping in such a way that stretching could not reach, let alone fix. I started settling with myself—10 miles left, okay, I don't think I will be able to run again, I can walk the whole thing.

But then—we're going downhill again. I'm walking a little faster. We're taking the ramp off the bridge into Manhattan. I'm jogging. We're passing the 16-mile marker—from here on out, every step is the farthest I've ever run in my life. I'm running again. We turn onto roaring 1st Avenue!

Manhattan: 1st Avenue is very long. Everyone warns you about 5th Avenue, when you're close enough to the end you might fool yourself into thinking it's the home stretch—but no one (except Meb) warned me about 1st Ave, which feels uphill! Is it uphill?? It is also a 3.5-mile optical illusion. You look as far ahead as you can and that mass you see cannot be runners, that can't be where you're going, that is so far, the bridge to the Bronx must be closer than that. And yet.

My family also did not see me on 1st Ave as planned, which was kinda disappointing. They just didn't make it to the post we'd picked out ahead of time. I didn't want to be grumpy or ungrateful because they did travel all the way to New York for me, and I'm glad they were enjoying shopping and stuff on the UES, it's their vacation too! but like... you travelled all the way to New York for me. Maybe you could prioritize seeing me 🥺 BUT I was perhaps entering the mouth of the pain cave at this time. I'd been running for over 4 hours, the longest I'd ever done, I didn't have enough sodium.

The spectators were awesome. All along the whole course they were great—if it ever felt like too much, I just walked in the middle of the course and tuned them out fine. There's no way I would've finished without not just their vocal support but material support as well—a bag of pretzels was like manna from heaven. Spray-on Biofreeze. Drinks between the official hydration stations. Alcoholic drinks, too (I did not partake, but boy if there's ever a time to break your sobriety...). Tissues. Bananas and orange slices, cookies, Halloween candy, an angel who had my fave kind of Honey Stinger chews. I'd been eating my own gels every 30 minutes on the dot but I was starting to get sick of them. I took everything that anyone shoved in my hands, Gd bless the people of New York City and their generosity, foresight, and kindness.

The Bronx: Going up the Willis Ave Bridge I didn't know if I would be able to finish. I hadn't run in a couple miles. I looked over to my left and saw runners crossing the Last Damn Bridge and it looked unfathomably far away. I had over 6 miles to go, there was just no way. I wanted to lie down in the middle of the street, find a way to tell my family to pick me up here. But there was a woman on the bridge, the first spectator in the final borough, rocking a well-swaddled baby that couldn't have been older than just a few weeks in her arms, welcoming us to the Bronx. I had to keep going after that. I kept telling myself to just keep walking, step by step, and eventually I would finish.

I hoped crossing the 20 Mile marker would be a boost but it made me feel like crying, if I had been hydrated enough to cry. The Boogie Down Bronx was popping but I could not match their energy. My legs were not going to run another mile. I was literally staring at the road taking one step at a time, my head down.

Then out of nowhere I felt someone next to me. Another runner, a middle-aged guy I'd never seen or spoken to before, came up beside me and patted me on the back and mumbled something I didn't hear before jogging off, something short like "keep going," "you got this," etc it could've been anything we runners say to each other on the course from time to time. It doesn't really matter what he said because just that pat on the back gave me fresh legs. Literally it was like I was on the start line again. I cannot explain it at all, I am tearing up just remembering it right now, the most powerful moment of my race. I immediately picked my head up and started running again and ran the rest of the Bronx. Everything hurt, but I could run through it.

I thought about getting his bib # and looking him up but I decided not to ruin the magic. My literal savior. We bobbed around each other a few more times but I lost him when I stopped on...

The Last Damn Bridge: There's an annual hype squad on the 3rd Avenue Bridge, the final bridge of the marathon that takes you back into Manhattan, and I've connected with some of them on FB. Their project this year was putting the names of runners' late loved ones on posters to give us an extra boost at Mile 21. I'd completely forgotten about it until I started passing the boards, then backtracked to find Phil's name ❤️ The organizer saw my name bib and said "Your name is Emily? My name is Emily, too! We have to take a photo!" so we did :) That interaction gave me a boost out of the Bronx and onto…

5th Avenue: You hear many warnings about the subtle but brutal elevation on 5th Avenue, which takes you from Harlem down almost 50 blocks to Central Park. I did not notice the elevation at all, or at least did not register it as elevation. I was mostly focused on trying to stay conscious. I wasn't ever urgently concerned that I was going to pass out, but if someone had bumped into me I probably wouldn't have gotten up. I was fighting back dizziness—but having fun again? Fun might not be the word but I have pretty positive feelings looking back on 5th Ave. The Bills won—I listened to part of the fourth quarter bc I needed to mentally be anywhere else for a few minutes. My walking speed was about equal to my "running" speed at this point so I mostly settled for walking.

Fun crowds, lots of people saying my name. Saw my family for the second and final time! I only stopped for a moment—my cousin said "How do you feel?" and I kind of fake smiled/laughed (?), my eyes not really focused on any fixed point, and said "I just need to keep going" and stumbled away into a jog. AND THEN I SAW MY FAVE TIKTOKER? I am not big into tiktok but if any of you know Dutch (dutchdeccc) I ran past him, did a double-take, TURNED AROUND and went up to him?? I spit out something incoherent like ohmygdiloveyourvideos, he was so sweet he grabbed my hand and said oh my gd thank you so much you are doing so great you are amazing! and I ran off into Central Park 😭

Central Park: There were making the miles longer here. I need to see the numbers and cold hard facts about the course measurements because these miles were longer than the other miles. I hated every second of miles 24 and 25 in the park. THAT was the pain cave. That was, of course I am going to finish because I came this far, but I have never felt this bad in my life. Running would get this over with sooner but my legs are no longer functioning and I might end up eating asphalt so we are walking 16-minute miles until we're out.

I knew certain ways my body would react to the distance because I've done long runs, but I didn't know most of the ways. Like, of course I have a calf cramp, that's what happens. But your legs spasming like in those videos you see of shaky runners who collapse right before the finish line—suddenly oh shit, I understand how that happens. It's not just one foot in front of the other, if I can't run I'll walk—at some point you cannot walk, but you have to figure out how to keep walking.

Central Park was fucking The Long Walk by Stephen King. I keep trying to remember specifics but I think my brain is blocking them out on purpose.

Central Park South: I'm crying again just recalling this. The final mile. You leave the park and run from Sherman's statue and the Plaza Hotel to Columbus Circle before reentering the park for the .2 finish. The hugeness of the marathon and achieving this goal finally hit me and I started crying, like actual tears—but my chest was so tight and achy that crying made it very hard to breathe, instantly, which was actually scary, so I stopped crying QUICK. Gathered myself. Most people were sticking to the right-hand side of the course, along Central Park, mostly empty of spectators. But I fucking needed people.

I can't overstate the power of the crowds at the NYC Marathon. Of course hype spectators are fun at any race, the cheering really is uplifting, the signs are funny. But at 25.7 miles you need more (at least I did) and New York City fucking delivered. I started walking along the barricade on the left, lined with people, and stared as many of them as I could dead in the eye. Literally forcing eye contact with these strangers lmao. It happened throughout the race—you catch a spectator's eye and connect with them, they say something right to your soul and you believe them. But I swear that entire barricade came through for me. It was sunset but still light enough they could read my name on my bib. I started jogging, high-fiving the kids, just looking from one face to the next begging them to talk to me, kept running just to see the next person. And they were smiling and cheering and it worked. I felt like the only person on the fucking course. I kept running even when I had to go right back into the park, uphill .2 miles to the finish.

I kept thinking "this is so fucking hard this is the hardest thing I've ever done if you just keep running to the finish you never have to run ever again." I truly felt like I sprinted across the finish line fast as Usain Bolt, but looking back at the video I was hobbling slightly faster than my 92-year-old grandmother.

The finishers area kinda makes you feel like a toddler, which is fitting because at that point, mentally, you can't think clearly. Like, your brain doesn't have any fuel left to process what's going on after running for 6 hours so the volunteers shepherd you through like a preschooler. Here is your medal, great job!, let me get you a warm poncho and wrap it up tight for you, do you see those big green signs over there, just follow them, yep!, is this bag too heavy for you, are you sure, okay, you did so good today. We must look like stunned baby deer.

Walked to Lincoln Center to meet my family. Nightmare bc once you're on the streets you directly encounter non-runners for the first time all day and most of them do not give a fuck. And as I said, you are physically and mentally struggling already.

But getting that medal is really fucking cool. And worth it

I won't bore you with the rest of the night (mostly ouch ouch stairs ow big step ough lying down hurts standing up hurts shower hurts eating makes me nauseated sleep is impossible) but over 24 hours out, I've never been sore like this. Just uncrossing my ankles hurts. I've always enjoyed the ache of a tough workout but this is something else. Proud of it though. However, unfortunately, I will be losing a toenail. Some may say that is a rite of passage for a distance runner but unpleasant and painful and kinda makes me dizzy nonetheless.

I've still barely had time to emotionally process any of this. I've wanted this for so long. Even as I was doing it, and trying to live in the moment, I could not believe I was actually running the New York City Marathon. And in 2024—this year I've dreaded for so long, the 10th anniversary of Phil's death, a year that's been unexpectedly brutal on me in so many other ways, too. But Phil was with me every step of the way, literally.

I've been wearing the medal all day even though it rubs against the sunburn on the back of my neck, trading little smiles and nods with my fellow runners. We fucking did it. I had no idea what that meant two days ago, what it took. If I did, I'm not sure I would've even tried. But we fucking ran the marathon babyyyyy

This is kind of the only thing I want to talk about so if you want to talk about it or have any questions or anything just let me know 🥺

[thesassypadawan]

Dancing In The Moonlight (A.J. x GFReader)

Summary:  It’s tradition…  The two of you poolside…a bottle of something sweet and strong (just like your man)…while listening to all those old, cheesy songs he loves…  That’s just how you celebrate another successful job…

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Fun from behind, pool smex, brief appearance of hat, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes: A little something for a lovely anon! It was truly a pleasure to write this! I'm sorry it took more than a hot minute to get this done, but I wanted to put all the extra love into this! I had a lot of fun with it, cannot not emphasize that enough!  Hope you like it and to see more of your lovely requests in my inbox! 💗

- Dancing in the moonlight...  Everybody's feelin' warm and bright…

- The familiar tune pours out from the open patio door.  Floating on the crisp night air.  Creating the perfect tone for a romantic, moonlit evening.  All that’s missing was your ‘partner in crime’.

- Checking your phone for what easily had to be the tenth time in the last hour, a slight frown crosses your face…no new messages.  “Where are you, Jay?”  You sigh softly to yourself, resting your chin on top of your folded arms…gazing up at the stars.

- This had always been your little tradition.  The two of you celebrating poolside.  Listening to his favorite songs.  Sharing a drink or two of something of his choice.  Helping him ‘unwind’ after another successful job…your frown turned up into a wicked grin.

- So consumed by your own thoughts you don’t register the sound of a soft splash, a voice calling to you.  Until small waves lap gently at, firm chest presses against your back.  And an arm reaches past you, setting an amber colored bottle and his hat beside the pair of empty glasses.   “Sorry, doll, that took longer than I wanted.”

- Humming, you practically melt into him.  Head lazily tilting to the side…eyeing up the spirit he brought.  “Strong stuff.  Must have been a rough one.”

- Hand comes to rest on your hip, giving it an affectionate squeeze.  While long fingers push your hair to the side.  Lips brush your neck; peppers your skin with tender kisses.  Low, gravelly voice mutters.  “Yeah.  Don’t wanna talk about it.  Just wanna relax…enjoy ya.”

- “Mmmh…”  You coo, a thrill coursing through you.  As you shift forward, hands grasping at the towel below.  Legs spreading apart, hips wiggling in invitation.  “Think I can manage that…”

- Teeth ghost over, nibble the shell of your ear.  “Figured ya could…”  Big hands pull on your waist, urges you up on your tiptoes.  “Always so good for me…”  Fat tip prods at your bare cheeks, teases at your folds.  “Treatin’ me right…”

- Mouth falls open, breathy moan slips out.  “Because you deserve it…would do anything for you.”  Upper body rises up, intent on thrusting yourself onto his throbbing length.  But…

- Calloused fingertips trail, grasp the back of your neck.  “I got it.”  Softly pressing you down, keeping you in place.  Pushing himself into your tight cunt, achingly slow.  “Don’t have to rush.”

- Bottoming out, hips flush with yours.  A.J stays buried deep within, not moving.  Tracing faint patterns, placing tender kisses along your spine…leaving goosebumps behind in their wake.  “We got all night, sweetheart.”

- “I know, but been waiting on you for week.”  Tightening from his sweet, gentle treatment.  Tiny gasps, little mewls spill from your lips.  As the burning desire inside you only grows stronger, more desperate for him to…  “Need you.  Need to feel you.  Need you to move.  Please.”

- “Mmmh, since ya asked so nicely.”  One last searing kiss between your shoulder blades and his hips begin to rock, roll.  Moving at a sensual, almost torturous pace that has your mind thrumming in pleasure.  Fingers weakly clutching at the towel; pussy fluttering, clenching hard around him.

- “Fuck.”  Lightly squeezing your nape before mapping a path up your thigh.  Dipping inwards; teasing, grazing…circling your neglected nub.  Groaning when he hears your low, needy whine.  “Weren’t kiddin’, were ya?”

- “No,” you hiccup, sigh.  Feeling his full weight press down on, pins your smaller body against the edge.  While he surges forward, somehow sinks his cock further into your warmth.  That familiar coil in your stomach wound taut, that molten pleasure pooling in its pit.  “Always need…always want…always miss you.”

- Increasing his speed slightly; the waves swell larger, lap louder.  “Good to know.”  Fingers swirl your clit faster, tug on it a bit rougher.  “Means you’ll be waitin’ here for me…every time.”

- Breaths come out in soft pants; wispy puffs of air merging together, rising up towards the starry sky.  “Ready to celebrate…”  Bodies trembling from the cool breeze, from the raw intimacy that’s easily and oh so quickly overtaken you both.  “Savor the moment…”

- Burying himself one last time, you spill over the edge together.  Him throbbing and twitching, stuffing you to the brim.  You clamping down, milking him for every last drop of that delicious heat. 

- And as A.J. showers you with words of admiration, loving praises.  Sways slowly, back and forth with you to the music.  Staying connected.  You know that you two will sip on another drink…dance to another song in…

- It's such a fine and natural sight…  Everybody's dancing in the moonlight…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @adorbzliz, @lesnby23, @starsoldier077, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @poppysunderthestars, @maggyskywalker, @gracescorner, @onlygoodatbeingbad, @lulu-lux, @bigaoibhe2024, @miumia, @moonlxght-tyler, @juli007, @chrismus48978731689, @dietcoke-lover, @polly-xo, @eviekj, @cocobear18, @anonymous1996s, @coooooooooochie, @anthonyromero45566, @bladeloverblog, @jarofer, @olivia82827jsnms, @jaynech028, @arabellaamore, @supernatural-lover, @niyahnotnia, @peyton3328, @ethere4lbts, @jasperanddaisy, @lachimolalaloveeeeee, @sold1erboy, @generalgalaxyfury, @t-bag2, @ttdrake, @gardenfairy-33, @jameskellysgirl, @maddis0n4, @war-and-chaos, @slutforoldermen, @oneaftertheotherone, @cherryhwaa

[not-poignant]

20. Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

A very close friend of mine was moving away from the state, and I was really cut up about it. I'd previously been seeing him and Glen at least weekly for many years. We watched movie premieres together, we went to Japanese festivals together, we went to a regular cafe together, we watched TV together, I cooked us all meals together.

On that final day, we had planned a lot of things but we all knew my energy levels might not be up for it.

In the morning, we all went out for dim sum, and talked about our dreams and hopes, and how much we wanted the best for our friend (this person inspired Kadek, incidentally). We had our favourite dim sum dishes, and laughed together, and lightly made fun of each other (taking the piss in a very Australian way) and then afterwards I realised I'd have to dip and get some sleep to recover some energy for the rest of the day.

I was really scared I wouldn't recover, because I can count on one hand the amount of times I've been able to do three big things in one day, on one hand, in the last ten years.

I slept for many hours, and we rendezvoused at Kings Park, which is gorgeous, and it was a beautiful day. Lightly cloudy, breezy, cool but just enough that you'd warm up nicely in the sun. We all sat down on the grass and stared at the perfect panorama of Perth city and took photos, and made the most of it.

We drove back to our favourite cafe that we'd been haunting for a long time, had our favourite meals. As usual, he took forever to decide on a menu he'd seen over 100 times, and I knew what I was getting before I even got there. We reminisced, we talked about how good our friend was going to do after he moved, we made sure to let him know we loved him and we were proud of him and would always be there for him.

After that, we came back here. I was truly shattered. My body was in pain. My friend knew that I'd spent up all the reserves and all of the "savings" and when he inquired about it, I told him that he was worth a million days like this, and he is.

I sat on the couch, barely verbal, basking in a strange warmth I'd never felt before. It was like being in the sun at Kings Park, but somehow warmer. And as I experienced it for longer, I came to reflect on its newness and how strange and nice it was. It wasn't the feeling of being in love. It wasn't the feeling of just happiness. It was some new thing, completely unfamiliar to me.

It was contentment. Something I'd never felt before. It was a bittersweet contentment, because he was leaving, because I knew what it meant about my entire life up until that point that I'd never felt it, not even in my childhood. Not even for five minutes.

It lasted about 20 minutes, it was some golden thing, and I've only felt it about one more minute since.

I live my life hoping I'll get to feel that again, and yeah, I'd say that's a memory I hold very close to my heart.

--

From the soft asks meme

[imagobin]

Hello! What do you think about a Killua & Leorio friendship scenario?: Killua gets inspired by Leorio so that he also wants to become a doctor and Leorio helps him with his studies.

Apologies for only getting to this nowwww I've been way too busy ugh This is SUCH a fun scenario! Idk the twist of Killua going from killing people to saving them is so cute and sweet- let's goooo! This is gonna be taking place a few years later, when Leorio is an actual doctor.

🩵Leorio helping Killua study HCs🪀

I wanna be like you:

Killua was raised to be an assassin, he'd been using his skills to hurt people ever since he could remember, but ever since he'd rescued Alluka from his family, his intentions began to change drastically, even more than they had in the past years.

Unless it was about protecting his little sister... fighting wasn't his priority anymore, especially since hearing that Leorio had actually managed to reach his goal of becoming a doctor.

He'd honestly never paid that much attention to that "old man" before. They were friends, sure, but he'd always been closer to Gon since it was easier to relate to someone his own age.

Hearing Leorio's passion when talking about his dream, genuinely inspired Killua... could he become a doctor too? He'd always struggled with finding his own path in life, always clinging to other people for a purpose... the doubt that he was just doing this as the ultimate act of defiance towards his family or to copy Leorio was still there, but nothing at the moment was forbidding him from trying.

"Leorio... what does it take to become a doctor?" he'd casually brought up the topic, acting typically bashful about asking a question like that. Leorio was surprised at first, but he answered honestly. Aside from studying lots, the desire to help people when nobody else can was his main drive.

"Do you think... I can do that?" Now Leorio was actually floored. An ex-assassin? Wanting to be a doctor? But... he wasn't the type to discourage his friends, quite the opposite- when he understood Killua wanted to follow in his footsteps he felt a sense of pride, and like the great big brother of the group he is, he took it upon himself to help Killua with his new goal.

Learning to focus:

What Killua was not expecting, was his new goal immediately getting challenged by... his own short attention span.

Go figure, the boy who'd fought his whole life and could run around at the speed of light, didn't exactly love sitting at a desk and study boring pre-med books.

Killua found himself often skipping his studying hours or cutting them short. He grew frustrated because on top of that, even when he did study, the information struggled to stick around in his brain. Maybe he wasn't fit for this after all... it was the first time he, a prodigy in fighting and Nen, was... not good at something, and it hit him hard.

He reluctantly brought up this to Leorio, who immediately reassured Killua that it's not that he wasn't fit to study; he just needed to find his own way! Seeing how fast Killua could absorb information in the past through hands-on experience, Leorio suggested he'd learn on actual anatomical models instead of relying on the pictures on the books, and that instead of studying cooped up in a library, maybe Killua would benefit from studying outside.

That advice seemed to work for the white haired boy, and between that and occasionally getting more help from Leorio, Killua actually began believing in himself, he could do this! He was going to leave behind everything his family had ever made him up to be, and he was going to follow his own goals!

Like an older brother:

Over this time, Killua began to see just how dependable Leorio is, almost like the older brother he'd always wished for, instead of Illumi.

It was reassuring to finally have someone in his life who didn't force him into a box, but who instead put in a lot of effort to find what would work for Killua.

Leorio didn't even notice he was doing this, it just felt like the most obvious way to get Killua to accomplish something. It looked like Melody was right in saying he'd be a good teacher as well.

He also got to know Killua a lot better. He'd only seen moments of vulnerability when Gon was in the hospital, but now he was aware of just how anxious he could be in other moments too.

Of course, with Killua always comes Alluka too, the young girl never leaves her borther's side, and during cram study sessions, she'd often stick around to watch her brother study and repeat notions to Leorio in whichever café or park they chose to go to for that day.

Leorio was somewhat aware of Alluka's powers, but he wasn't worried about it. He actually found Alluka really sweet for encouraging his brother to do his best at all times.

Killua still has his short fuse and sometimes gets mad at himself or the book when he struggles to have some topics stick in his brain, but Leorio can see he's truly trying, and he fully believes in him.

As the entrance exams for med school were approaching, Killua sought reassurance from Leorio, he wanted to know how the experience had been for him.

"Trust me, you might be an anxious wreck now, but once they're over, your first thought will be 'Huh, that wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be'."

[mustainegf]

lingerie shopping w james 🤭 he picks out cute little outfits for you. could be any era but maybe like 99, 03 or current james ?

THIS IS AN AMAZING IDEA????? AND SOOOOO JAMES HOLY SHIT

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 & 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁹

A soft jingle sounded from the bell above the door as we stepped into the small lingerie shop tucked into a corner of the strip mall. It wasn't a place I'd imagined us going, but James was in one of those playful moods all day, and there was no saying no to him when he flashed that mischievous grin. He had this knack for pulling me out of my shell and making me feel bold and sexy when I didn't even know I could feel that way.

The shop smelled of faint perfume and new fabric, the racks of lace and satin lining the walls. It was cozy, quiet, and we were the only ones there, which felt both exciting and a little awkward. But James didn't seem to care, he never did. He strode in like he owned the place, as he did with most places, eyes scanning the room for the perfect pieces, turning back to me with a gleam in his eyes.

"How about this one, baby?" He leaned and picked up a sheer red set, holding it up for me to see. "I bet you'd look hot in this." His voice dropped lower, a playful smirk on his lips. "Or out of it."

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the flush from creeping up my neck. "You're crazy."

He laughed deep and rich, a set to our little adventure. "Come on," he urged, handing me the set. "Go try it on. Let's have some fun." There was just no arguing with James when he got this way. He wasn't overbearing, just… assured, in that confident way that he always had.

I took the lingerie and moved towards the dressing rooms, giving him a look over. Already he was eyeing up something else on the racks, his face assuming that look of concentration adopted by people who believed this was some serious mission.

I slipped on the red set in the dressing room. Soft fabric caressed my skin, hugging in all the right places. I looked into the mirror, feeling my stomach churning with shyness and somehow some excitement. It's not always that comfortable for me to be this daring, but since James had been waiting outside just to see me, it made me smile.

"You gonna let me see, or do I have to come in there?" His voice came through the curtain all teasing like usual.

I pulled back the curtain slightly and leaned my head out. "You're not supposed to be in here, you know."

James raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall. "Since when have I followed rules?"

I let him in with a sigh that turned into a laugh, shutting the curtain behind him. His eyes roamed over me and I could tell he liked what he saw. He reached out, tracing the lace along my hips, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured, his voice taking on that husky tonethat he knew drove me crazy.

I shook my head but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, hush."

His eyes met mine, serious for a moment. "No, I mean it. You're beautiful." He slid his hand down my arm, fingers brushing my waist. "I love when you let go like this."

He kissed me then, so soft and slow at first, before it deepened, and for a moment, we forgot we were standing in the middle of a small lingerie shop.

When he pulled back, his eyes glittered with that same light. "You're getting this one," he said, almost as an order. "But let's see what else we can find."

I changed back into my clothes while he roamed the store, picking out pieces and holding them up for me to see. A black corset, some lacy panties, even a soft, baby blue set that made me giggle when he held it out like it was the most serious thing in the world.

"This one's cute," he said, giving me a sideways grin. "For when you're feeling sweet."

I raised an eyebrow. "And when am I ever feeling sweet?"

He laughed again, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward the dressing room. "Guess we'll find out."

We had spent the next hour trying things on, and he would never take his eyes off me, always managing to say something flirtatious or giving a low whistle.

At one point, he pulled out an emerald green set complete with garter and stocking that he held up with one eyebrow raised, his gaze was locked on the crotch of the g string... or lack thereof... It was obvious what they were meant for. "This one," he said, his voice lowering. "You gotta try this one."

I wavered for a second, biting at my lip. A little more daring than I was used to. Then I caught the look in his eyes, full of heat, but also something else. He wanted me to feel sexy.

I took it from him as I headed back into the dressing room. When I came out, James looked like he creamed his pants on the spot.

"Damn," he muttered stepping closer, his hands sliding around my waist. "We're gettin' this one."

By the time we finally came out of that shop, I had a whole bunch of lingerie clutched in my bag and a whole warm heart out of it. James held me at the door and swung his arm around my shoulder.

I already knew what was in store tonight...

[sejarcus-archive]

Some fluffy modern Sejarcus scenarios and headcanons, that have been on my mind:

(Premise: in these Sejanus is not an early bird at all, cause so many cute scenarios can be born from that)

Their morning cuddles usually end with Marcus trying to get up to start the day and Sejanus not letting him go, wrapping one arm around his chest and leaving repeated kisses on his shoulder, while mumbling to please stay in bed a little longer.

After Marcus is done applying moisturizer on his own face, he asks Sejanus to face him and delicately applies it on his, too, but he can’t help himself and keeps leaning in to give him quick kisses, before pulling away to actually look at what he’s doing.

Sejanus takes charge of the cooking most of the time, seeing that he’s a bit more experienced and really enjoys it, as well, but in the morning he’s always too tired to function, so preparing breakfast is a task that falls on Marcus. He really doesn’t mind, he’s good at it too, and while he’s not as passionate about it as Sejanus, he has no problem cooking. The real problem arises on days when Sejanus manages to get up from bed at the same time as him, ‘cause while he’s trying to get everything ready, he clings to him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head against his shoulder, and following Marcus’s every step around the kitchen, making it so difficult for him to move and heightening the probability of either of them getting burned on the stove or the hot pans. But saying that it bothers him would be a blatant lie.

(This is just me trying to spread the koala Sejanus agenda)

Sejanus mostly follows his ma’s recipes that he grew up with, but sometimes he likes to venture out of his comfort zone and experiment with combining ingredients in new ways. He has a lot of fun doing it, but is always scared that Marcus won’t like the dishes he makes. But Marcus always responds so enthusiastically to them, praising how good they are and asking him so many questions on how he made them, what ingredients he used, how he achieved those textures and flavors. Sejanus still gets butterflies at Marcus’s sweetness and thoughtfulness, even after years of being with him; Marcus gets butterflies at seeing Sejanus so happy and talking with his eyes all sparkly and a smile so big, but still somewhat timid at the praises and attention.

Marcus does some sort of manual labor job, which makes it so his back and shoulders are often sore. Sejanus takes it upon himself to help him, by giving him massages most nights before bed, even when Marcus tells him he doesn’t have to, that he’s fine. But Sejanus loves how both his body and whole demeanor start to relax under his touch, it makes him feel good in turn, knowing he’s helping Marcus feel better. Plus he loves physical touch too much to let an occasion for it slip by, and Marcus is the same, so he doesn’t really insist on not needing it.

Marcus gives Sejanus massages too. He works as a nurse and has to stand for hours during his shifts. When they're both home in the evening, Marcus takes Sejanus’s feet on his lap while they sit on the couch, and massages them as he listens to him vent about his day.

For a while Marcus worked at a job in which he had to bring his lunch from home. Sejanus took charge of the meal prepping and packing, insisting that it helps him destress. He would put a little note with each lunch, reminding Marcus he loves him, or wishing him a good day, or writing little inside jokes and scribbling doodles on them. Each one felt like a warm hug to the heart for Marcus. He kept them all and put them inside a little wooden box that now sits in his night stand’s drawer.

Sejanus gets a slight pout when he’s upset. It’s not that noticeable if you don’t pay attention, and he himself isn’t aware of it. Marcus, on the other hand, is extremely aware of it and one little look at Sejanus is enough for him to know he’s upset. He finds it very cute, and thinks that if Sejanus was to ever look up at him with his huge eyes and that slight pout, and ask him to cut his own hand off, he would do it with zero hesitation.

Marcus’s absolute favorite jacket is a vintage leather jacket that fits him like a glove. Sejanus’s brain short circuits every time he wears it (he wears it a lot).

They fight for hours over who has to make the phone calls, ‘cause neither of them wants to. Somehow, 99% of the time, Marcus is the one giving up first and doing it.

Marcus genuinely thinks Sejanus is the funniest person on the planet (he is). Everyone could tell he was into him, because of how hard he laughed at his jokes. Similarly to this, Sejanus only ever gets super giggly around Marcus, and everyone could tell he liked him because of that.

Sejanus likes to sit on Marcus’s lap any chance he gets. They are that couple at a party. You turn around and you see them sitting at the edge of an otherwise empty couch, Sejanus on Marcus’s lap, with his arms around his neck, and they just keep whispering stuff to each other and chuckling and kissing. Marcus loves whenever Sejanus sits on his lap, ‘cause he can wrap his arms around him and hold him so easily, which is his favorite thing in the world.

And since we’re on the topic of Marcus holding Sejanus, I’m gonna add here three headcanons that I had shared in the tags of a post on sejanusarchive some time ago:

Marcus can’t help himself from hugging Sejanus whenever they’re in the same room, and he accompanies each hug with a very essential and mandatory kiss on the head.

Sometimes, when Sejanus is feeling tired or lazy, he uses his tall, strong boyfriend privileges, and asks Marcus to carry him. Marcus pretends to be annoyed by the request, to tease him, but the fond smile on his lips, that he didn’t quite manage to conceal, gives away the fact that he’s actually very amused and endeared by it.

Contrary to Sejanus, Marcus is an early bird. In the morning he is super active, waking up and getting ready for the day with no problem and in no time, but having to help a very sleepy Sejanus get ready faster or else he’ll be late. At night the roles are reversed. When 9pm rolls around, Marcus is already falling asleep, fighting with everything in himself to keep his eyes open, while Sejanus is the most energized he’s felt all day, and just keeps yapping and yapping to poor Marcus, who really wants to pay attention to what he’s saying and is trying very hard to, but his brain won’t let him.

Sometimes when they cuddle, Sejanus climbs on top of Marcus to lay completely on him like a baby otter does with their mother, and jokes about sleeping like that the entire night. Obviously he doesn’t, ‘cause it would be too uncomfortable for both of them after a while, especially for Marcus, but he can still dream for a couple of minutes.

When Sejanus was a child, he used to watch romcoms with his ma all the time. From them, he learned that gifting flowers is one of the most romantic gestures out there, so he grew up internalizing that. On his first date with Marcus he felt shy and nervous, and didn’t know how the flowers could have been perceived by him, so he didn’t bring him any. But on the second date, with the confidence of how well the first one had gone and how sweet and gentle Marcus was, he brought him the most beautiful bouquet ever, with flowers in all shapes and sizes, and colors of the rainbow. Marcus was incredibly surprised and flustered; no one had ever gifted him flowers before, and he had to fight the urge to get down on one knee and ask Sejanus to marry him then and there. After years together, Sejanus still brings him bouquets of them every once in a while. Marcus still feels like he could explode with love each time.

[fohatic]

don't mind if i do.....

there are still beautiful things by @meidui

The day Tony takes Steve home from the New York Army National Guard is the best day of his life.

the hope that kills you (series) by @meidui

Steve used to go on so much about freedom and choice. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. Some of the freedom he loved was big, big enough for him to lay his life down for over and over, and some of the freedom he loved was small, like the wind in his hair when he took his motorcycle out, but now he has to sob and take it when Tony sucks a deep flowering bruise where his prison uniform couldn’t possibly cover and whispers in his ear, “Who’s gonna help you now? Where are you gonna run?”

The Prize by @sabrecmc (HOWWWW IS THIS NOT ON ANY OF THESE LISTS YET)

Steve ends up as a concubine in the royal harem.

Deep End by @festiveferret

SHIELD has found a way to make Project Rebirth work - something Tony's father was never able to accomplish. An unexpected side effect has Fury begging Tony for some rather unusual help: the painful procedure has put their volunteer, a sub called Steve Rogers, so deep into subspace he can't come up on his own.

Tits Aren't Just For Ladies by Dr_Amuly ( @everybodyilovedies)

Tony fucks Steve's tits (man-tits, no genderswap or implants or anything).

(Not for) Public Consumption by Poose

“Can’t you like, I don’t know, do a little pirouette for me, sweetheart?” He shuffles backwards cautiously, glancing over his shoulder to avoid hitting the wall. There’s a chair back there, he should sit in it before his legs give out. Steve cocks his head, hand on his hip. He puts his front foot at angle to the one in back and executes a tired swing around. You’d think he’d like the attention a bit more. Tony may have to goad it out of him. “Steve, seriously, you’re like a bored stripper.” And then, suitably affronted, Steve takes another turn, more slowly, so that Tony can pan down and zoom in on his ass from a slightly lower angle.   *** Or, Steve and Tony make a sex tape. Exactly as sophisticated as it sounds. A non-powered AU of another AU that I haven't written yet. Contains zero plot.

Surrender Yourself by xWinterDreamsx

Tony has Steve tied up in ropes for some kinky fun.

Some Great Reward by @kiyaar

After the events of Captain America: Civil War, Tony and Steve come to an agreement. It doesn't involve affection.

Come on Closer by @epiphanyx7

[[... porn.]] Or, the one where Steve wants to talk to Tony about something important.

Leave Your Marks Written Upon My Skin by blue_jack ( @some-blue-jack)

“I want you to keep your hands right here, alright?”

Keep Us Warm, Tonight by @copper-mouth

Steve and Tony often keep late hours together when sleep won't come to either of them. Tonight is shaping up to go a little differently, however.

Working Late by @tinystark616

Some nights, Tony stays up late, building and rebuilding and upgrading his suits, until Steve walks into the workshop, usually already in his pajamas, and wraps his arms around Tony, kissing him until he forgets what he was doing and then dragging him to bed. A fill for the prompt "Steve sits in Tony's lap and rides him" from last year's Community Gifts prompt list. Because there's really not enough bottom!Steve in the world.

Ship to Shore by @mserm

The Avengers beat Thanos. Everyone is safe. (If you don’t count those five days they thought Natasha was dead.) All that’s left is to return the stones, a feat that Tony is sure will end his new friends-with-benefits relationship with Steve.

Consecration of the Virgin by @dracusfyre (sequel to The Penitent Man)

Steve gives his body into Tony's keeping. For the good of his soul, of course.

In The Springtime of His Voodoo by shaenie

“I’m removing Captain Rogers from this base, but not from active duty. I want him as SHIELD’s liaison to Stark Industries first and foremost. He’ll report directly to me,” Fury says. “As it is, your identity as Captain America is not public knowledge and it will remain that way until I say otherwise. That said, if you think you can get Tony Stark to work with you if you disclose that information, you have permission to do so.”

heyyy！i just saw u reblog an ask and it just happened to be the exact same thing I wanted to ask👉👈 do u have and recommend stony fics that are top Tony/bottom Steve 🥺

you know i do!! see also k's rec list and bulky's rec list, i tried not to rec any that were already on their lists <3

Jackpot by @elcorhamletlive

It’s not always like this.

Tony leans back on the bed, assessing his view. Near the door, balanced on his knees, Steve stares at him with half-lidded eyes, blue eyes darkened under those beautiful eyelashes. His blonde bangs stick a little to his forehead, where a glimmer of sweat is evidence of how long he’s been in that position: knees firmly planted on the rug of Tony’s bedroom, naked aside from a pair of cotton black briefs, hands tied up behind his back, exactly as Tony left him this morning. He breathes heavily, his muscular chest going up and down as he watches and waits.

Doubling Up (Steve) by @elcorhamletlive

“Well,” Tony drawls, his gaze going from the bed to where Steve, and, uh, Tony are standing, next to the small pile where Steve’s shirt lies along with his trousers. “This is awkward.”

Chamber of Reflection by @thahiree

A few years after retiring, Steve and Tony get a surprise visit from another Steve. Steve Rogers from Earth 1610 is lost, grappling with the new century he’s been unceremoniously dropped in, with confusing feelings for his new teammate, with himself.

Steve and Tony decide to get involved.

A Proportional Response by @mserm

Steve doesn't have a reason for cock-blocking Tony.

No reason, whatsoever.

It's Hard To Look Right At You, Baby by Albuss

“Woah,” Tony says, “slow down. Take it easy. Hold your horses.” He can be forgiven for saying the same thing four times because he is already completely, utterly wrecked.

“Fuck me,” Steve whispers. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

Five Times Steve Woke Up Early (And One Time He Didn’t) by @airlocksandaviaries

Steve's not actually a morning person, despite his body's insistence. It's quite possibly the one thing about the serum he's not immensely grateful for. Forcing himself up and on a run to burn through the overwhelming, restless energy that builds bright and early would be much more tolerable if it were a few hours later. Tony decides to do something about this.

Underneath it All by @hollyandvice

Steve's finally ready to indulge Tony's fantasy of seeing him in a thong. He just has terrible timing when it comes to implementing sexy times. But that's alright, Tony's a master of making the best of a (not actually) bad situation.

the year you were mine by @areiton

The night that changes his life forever, Steve is on a date with another man.

Or: Steve is a pricy escort and Tony buys him for a year. Neither of them are doing this for love.

a thousand things you call me by @areiton

He calls you a thousand things, and you love them all, count them all and guard them close, because with each he calls you mine.

Your Reputation Precedes You by @vanilla-shoes

Tony agrees to watch the desk for the salon next door to his garage as a favor -- but when he meets the salon owner's fiery best friend Steve, maybe the favor is for Tony after all...

Brooklyn After Dark by darefanny

”I could do that”, Steve had said before his brain could catch up to his big, stupid mouth. He had leaned over Tony’s shoulder to look closer at a photo of a man in lingerie on his tablet.

Slow Burn Fireworks by felisnocturna

Tony fucks him incredibly slowly this time.

praise you like I should by @firebrands

steve gets de-serumed for a hot second, but tony's pretty quick to reassure him of all his lovely traits. (made even better by having to sleep in a shitty motel with a mirror on the bed.)

Suds 'n Studs by @fohatic

Tony didn't mean to hire some super hot, young guy to take his clothes off for money -- honestly! He just wanted somebody to wash his cars! But accidents happen when you let your AI do the hiring for you, apparently. Now the recent divorcee has an awkward apology to make. He also has as an invitation to subscribe to Steve's OnlyFans. What he doesn't have is any clue what he should do in this situation.

In Too Deep by @fohatic

Steve knew that he was asking for trouble when he agreed to let the gallery auction off a date with him for charity, but he needed to get in the director's good books if he wanted to make it as an artist in this cutthroat town. He never imagined that his participation would ignite an outrageous bidding war, or that the infamous, billionaire ex that he hadn't seen since their sudden breakup two years prior would show up and stake his claim.

the thorn in his side by @fohatic

It had been there from the beginning. There was no end to it, that mutual wanting between them—forever unresolved—that had grown so terribly soft and unbearably romantic with age...

But there was an unspoken rule between them, as well: an understanding that they could never act on it.

That is, until an alien parasite's brood nest gets violently dislodged from its Chitauri Leviathan host during the Battle of New York, dispersing its contents directly over two time-jumping tourists who are very much in the wrong place and the wrong timeline.

pull me down by breakeven

He doesn’t mean to pull, is just brushing through the locks there as a means of comfort, to show Steve that he’s still there and present with him, that Tony is just as affected by the wet grasp of Steve’s hole as Steve is by the insistent pressure against his prostate

wind me up by breakeven

Steve hadn’t known it, but apparently Tony could tell after the first time they ever fucked. He could see in Steve the need to please, the need to be of some sort of service, and had known that it would translate perfectly in sexual desires, even when Steve hadn’t had a clue himself.

honey from your hive by meidui

"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?"

"We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."

Blushes Per Hour by @blossomsinthemist

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Well, no,” he said. “Um, but.” He was breathing heavily now, through his nose. “Rachel liked it when I did it, because she has, uh, she has sensitive breasts, and I, um, err. Sometimes I’d pull on my own nipples during, or, or after, on my own, and. And I’d imagine—wonder, really, if I was. If I had enough, or—”

“Are you saying you’ve fantasized about this?” Tony said, and he couldn’t help the pure delight that came through in his tone, because had he actually stumbled onto one of Steve’s kinks, here? He’d never let on at all before, not at all.

Please Please Me by @blossomsinthemist

Steve looked so beautiful flushed and wanting, on his knees, begging.

Failing To Not Fall by @nvrthlessthsun

Steve was failing to not fall in love with Tony Stark.

AKA the one where Steve thinks he's Friends-With-Benefits with Tony, and Tony thinks he's dating Steve.

Paint Job by @valdomarx

“You want me to what?” Steve looked incredulous. “I want you to detail my car,” Tony said with a smirk.

Relax, Darling by @valdomarx

Steve is stressed and tense after a hard mission.

Luckily for him, Tony and his tongue are available to relax him in a variety of delightful ways.

Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd, Four’s a Party by @valdomarx

How to satisfy the secret desires of a horny supersolider:

Ults Steve gets gangbaged by Tony from four different universes (Ults, MCU, AA and 616).

Mark Sixty-Nine by @everybodyilovedies

Tony is irritated that Steve's first hug-and-fly wasn't with him. As the source of many of Steve's other "firsts", Tony has a brilliant idea of how he could take one more. Specifically, Steve's first time being fucked by a machine.

Afternoon Delight by @greyduckgreygoose

Tony watched with narrowed eyes as Rogers nodded politely to Natasha. They exchanged quick, familiar smiles, which suggested that they knew each other better than the acquaintances they seemed to want Tony to think they were. Up close, Rogers was even more attractive than he had appeared on camera, a touch of blonde stubble along his jaw, large square hands.

He also had a nice ass, not that Tony was particularly staring.

“Mr. Stark,” Natasha said, as they both stood before Tony’s desk. “May I introduce Steve Rogers? Or, if you prefer, Captain America.”

The Sixth Time is the Charm by @onemuseleft

The fifth time Steve tried to get Tony to fuck him (and failed) is when he started taking it personally.

Your Kind of Love by blue_jack

The first time they have sex, Tony isn’t really hoping for much.

[jamandjazz]

My formal apology for the forgetting what Two Bit looked like when I was doing speed draws @jasmine145946 😔

[getosugurusbangs]

hngggghhhh

post 1

post 3

[heartorbit]

WAOT WERE U THE ONE TSUKASA COSPLAYER AT MIKUEXPO GIVING OUT MIKU STICKERS TO THE PJSK FANS

THATS ME!!!!! i didn't mean to just give them to pjsk fans help but i severely underestimated how many i should've made and cut out .. so i just ended up giving them to cosplayers or people who said hi to me .... T_T

THERE'S ALSO THIS SUPER CUTE BRACELET SOMEBODY RAN UP TO ME AND GAVE ME AND I TREASURE IT SO I NEED TO ADD IT TO THE POST AND SHOW IT OFF .. WAH!!!! ITS SO CUTE LOOK!!!!!!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

washing some of my crocheted stuff for the first time and im Incredibly Nervous about it. what if they come undone. what if i lose my beloved soup coaster...