#was Struck by this and had to post and am now immediately going to sleep

[tiredeg]

What's the pyjama situation at the GPDA strike sleepover?

George: Has an intense mental battle between full button up collared pyjamas to Remain Professional as the union rep, and his inherent need to be shirtless... He goes with the full collared get-up in the end but unbuttons the top by the end of the night. He does wear socks to bed.

Lewis: Silk pyjamas, obviously, could be worn as a full outfit and would be the most fashionable outfit on media day, easily. He has an eye mask and earplugs and WILL be using them.

Lando: Giant hoody, the pink one, hood up, sleeves over hands. Skinny joggers.

Oscar: Shorts, obviously. He was actually planning on going shirtless but gets self-conscious when most people aren't so overheats in a T-shirt all night.

Valtteri: Has been specifically told he can't sleep naked and he's not happy about it. Wears a onesie.

Zhou: All black, stylishly cut matching pyjamas. Cat socks.

Pierre and Esteban: Show up with matching pyjamas. They did NOT plan this.

Yuki: Is a bit miffed because he WOULD have worn matching pyjamas with Pierre. Sleeveless tank and boxers.

Liam: Lightning McQueen character pyjamas.

Max: He will be sleeping in a Red Bull polo and jeans because he is technically At Work.

Checo: Is inundated with pyjama sponsorships but instead wears a meme t-shirt about himself.

Alex: Wow what a coincidence he JUST launched Albon pets pyjamas!

Franco: He WILL be sleeping shirtless and he WILL be stretching and flexing. Will try to get the mattress next to Lewis.

Charles: Wears tailored pyjamas with bottoms that are really baggy but also cinch in his waist. He still has to wear all his sponsor bracelets.

Carlos: Has a nose peg for snoring. Sleeps in only boxers despite the fact that they were told to be decent. You know he's kicking the covers off in his sleep.

Nico and Kmag: On purpose coordinate to wear matching white-tshirt-grey-sweatpants. Will be going to sleep asap.

Fernando: Wears a robe that's tied justttt tight enough that it's never actually indecent but it's threatening to open all night. Velvet slippers.

Lance: Wants to match with Fernando but only has a cozy flannel robe which he keeps fully tied at all times. Bunny slippers.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 8

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum. Descriptions of sex (not graphic)

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 3.9k

Note : Loved the new Thunderbolts trailer. I am so excited to see Buck and Yelena interact in MCU canon! I will also be posting a thunderbolts! Bucky one shot soon so keep your eyes peeled! Also I know I uploaded yesterday but I have this locked and loaded and ready to go so this chapter’s early! 🫶

Series Masterlist

"Cursed By the Crown"

Friday.

You had already left the compound, exhausted from the day’s session. Bucky had stayed behind, as he often did, cleaning up the equipment and keeping to himself.

Yelena leaned on the doorway, watching him for a moment.

“Up for a spar?” Her tone was light, though her eyes had a stormy darkness to them.

Bucky exhaled, not even looking up. “It’s late.”

“Oh, come on.” She sauntered in, shrugging off her jacket and rolling her shoulders, settling into a loose stance. “Scared, Barnes?”

He shook his head, though his eyes never met hers. “Fine,” he said, almost to himself, moving into a ready position.

Bucky tightened his fists, his knuckles cracking under the pressure.

They began circling each other, slowly, like predators circling prey.

Yelena struck first, swift and precise. 

He blocked it, barely, the impact reverberating up his arm.

Yelena was relentless today. She pivoted, her leg sweeping out in a low arc, forcing him to jump back. She didn’t give him time to reset; she was on him again, fists flying in a controlled, practiced fury.

“You know, before she lost her memory,” Yelena’s voice emerged between punches, “she always thought you hated her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

She capitalized on it, her fist slamming into his ribs. He gasped, the pain sharp and immediate.

He forced himself to push back, retaliating with a swift punch aimed at her shoulder. 

She staggered back. 

“Now’s not the time,” he growled.

She threw another punch, this one grazing his jaw, just over the bruise you had given him when you punched him in your sleep. 

Yelena ignored his warning.

“You pushed her away. You were cold. Distant,” she said, words punctuated by each blow she landed, as if each strike was meant to drive home her accusation. 

Bucky could feel his temper rising, a familiar rage simmering beneath his touch skin.

Bucky caught her wrist with his metal arm mid-punch and twisting it, but careful not to break it. He shoved her back, but only for her to use the momentum to spring up again, her heel catching him across the jaw in a brutal arc. 

He could taste the metallic tang of blood from his lip, but he didn’t back down.

“Stop it,” he snapped. But she ignored him, her strikes coming harder. Faster.

“But you were always so protective of her,” she continued as she threw another punch, this one catching his shoulder. “Even when you pretended not to care, you watched over her. You noticed everything— the way she liked her coffee. Her favourite colour, the way she played with the ends of her hair when she was nervous.” She landed another blow, a quick jab to his gut that left him gasping. “Everyone noticed how much you cared. Everyone but her. But you pushed her away.”

Bucky swallowed, barely managing to hold back the waves of emotion threatening to break the surface. 

This time, he punched harder, knowing Yelena wasn’t going to hold back. 

He brought his knees up to her head. He didn’t put enough force to give her a concussion, but enough to draw blood from her forehead. 

Yelena blocked a hit from his human arm.

“Don’t tell her,” he said abruptly, his voice harsher than he intended.

“Why not?” She gripped his forearm.

He broke free, striking a punch that she couldn’t dodge, throwing her off balance. 

“I don’t want her to think of me like that,” Bucky replied.

Yelena’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“She’s not going to remember it on her own, Barnes.” Her knee shot up, catching him in the side. He staggered back, pain flaring through his ribs. “You’re the only one who can tell her how you were before and why.”

He blocked her next punch, gripping her arm tightly. He shoved her back.

Yelena stumbled, but she recovered quickly.

“What good is it going to do?” he bit out in frustration.

“If you don’t tell her, you’re going to carry that guilt forever,” she hissed. She aimed a punch at his jaw, but he ducked, countering with a brutal blow to her side. She gasped, wincing in pain. “N-not everybody—“ she spat a bit of blood on the mat— “It’s not everyday you get a second chance like this.”

“Second chances?” he echoed, throwing a punch that she narrowly avoided. “You want to talk to me about second chances, Belova?”

He watched as her usually flawless stance faltered.

“Sam told me,” he continued, his words venomous. “That you were too scared to see her. That you locked yourself up and whined and cried or whatever you did— when she was dying.”

Yelena’s face paled, her fists curling at her sides. Bucky saw the hurt behind her eyes, and maybe even a familiar guilt that followed him, too.

Yelena’s expression faltered. She opened her mouth to protest, but Bucky cut her off, putting another jab at the sides.

“At least I was there,” he said, his voice a mixture of frustration and pain as he dodged a side kick. “I sat by her bedside. I watched watched her fight just to breathe. I couldn’t— wouldn’t want her to be alone when she woke up. You think it was easy, watching her hooked up to all those machines just to stay alive?”

The words hit their mark; Yelena flinched as Bucky caught her in a headlock. Lucky for her, she knew how to outsmart a stronger opponent. She reached over in a desperate attempt to jab a finger close to his eyes as she could without blinding him.

When she broke free of his grip, she landed a vicious punch to his ribs, hard enough to make him double over.

“You think I didn’t want to be there?” she shouted, her voice cracked. She struck again, her fist connecting with his jaw, splitting the skin just below his cheekbone. Blood trickled down his face, mingling with the salty sting of sweat. “I couldn’t— I couldn’t lose another sister.”

“Excuses,” Bucky stumbled before catching himself. “I might have been cold. I might have kept my distance. But when she ran out of the compound, I tracked her. I offered her a place to stay. I was there when it mattered.”

“It’s doesn’t matter if I hurt her now,” Yelena’s voice rose now, almost a scream. “I am nothing. A friend, at most. I’m no longer a sister to her because she doesn’t fucking remember!” She took a breath, shoving Bucky down to the mat. “But you? You should hear the way she talks about you, Bucky. It’s like you hung the stars for her.”

He got up and turned away, chest heaving. 

He was done. 

Done with Yelena’s accusations. Her demands. Her criticism.

Mostly because he knew she was right.

Before he could storm out, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her again, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of hurt and desperation.

“If she finds out that I wasn’t there, it wouldn’t fucking matter,” she spat, her voice trembling in her Russian accent, dripping thicker now that she was shaking. “But if she finds out about you? It would break her. Because right now, you mean more to her than I ever did. Or ever could.”

Bucky’s breath caught, the words hitting harder than any punch she’d thrown. 

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Yelena’s grip tightened.

“No, you don’t get it,” she snapped, “She deserves to know who she’s falling in love with. All of you. Not just the parts you think are good enough for her.”

She’s falling in love with me? 

His fists loosened, his shoulders slumped. He looked at her swollen lip, her cut forehead, and realised what he’d done.

Yelena took a shaky breath, stepping back, but her gaze didn’t waver. “Just… think about it,” she pleaded.

She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, alone. 

Bucky watched her, his face smeared with blood.

His blank stare flooded his mind back with memories—the moments where he had pushed you away, where he had convinced himself he wasn’t good enough for you, that you deserved someone better.

But now, he had a clean slate. He could be the person he always wanted to be for you. 

Maybe Yelena was right. Maybe he should tell you. But for now, he kept it to himself, wondering if he was making a mistake.

—

The door creaked open in your apartment.

Bucky tried to slip in quietly, but the minute you heard his footsteps, you emerged from the kitchen. You saw him standing near the small lamp, bruised and bloodied.

Your heart leapt into your throat, rushing over immediately.

“Bucky!” you gasped. You saw his split lip, the bruising above his cheekbone, the cuy along his jawline. He stood there, looking like he wanted the walls to swallow him whole.

You reached for him, guiding him toward the couch.

“What happened?” you asked, hands fluttering over his injuries as if you could somehow will them to disappear. The fear in your voice made him drop his gaze, his jaw clenching before he answered.

“Yelena,” he said, dismissively quick. “We were just sparring.” He tried to brush it off, but you knew Bucky’s little tells now— the way his eyebrows knitted when he had a lot on his mind. 

You eyed the bruises and the dried blood on his knuckles. “Just sparring?” you frowned. “You shouldn’t be training this… violently.”

He huffed, a weak smile tugging at his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. He started to say something, maybe to brush it off again, but the concern on your face made him go quiet.

You grabbed the first-aid kit Bruce had left— since he had been showing you teaching you basics over the last few days— you know, how to tend to a bullet wound. How to dislodge an arrow safely. 

He watched you open the box. His breath hitched as you rifled through it, muttering under your breath about “reckless idiots” and “grown ass spies who should know better.” Every so often, you glanced up, checking him with worried eyes.

He realized then just how much you truly cared. Just how deeply your concern ran. 

She looks at you like you hung the stars for her, Yelena had said. 

For the first time in a long time, he let himself be cared for—really cared for, not as a soldier, not as a mission.

“Maybe… I’ll have to talk to her about going easy on you,” you murmured with a small, gentle smile.

Never, he thought to himself, Yelena will never go easy on me. Not if I don’t tell you.

You pulled out antiseptic wipes and gauze, pulling him down on the cushions, letting him place his duffel bag on the floor. 

You kneeled down in front of him, taking his face in your hands with a tenderness that made his heart skip a beat. He felt the gentle kindness in your touch, the careful way you pressed against each wound.

“Hold still,” you whispered. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes. It was so unexpected that it sent your heart racing a thousand miles an hour.

Your fingers brushed the cut on his jaw, sending a dull ache through his skin, though he didn’t flinch. He just watched you, eyes tracing every line of your face. He studied the determination in your eyes, the way your lips parted in focus as you pressed the fabric against his swollen lip.

He felt his pulse race, fighting back the urge to reach for you.

You were so close, so painfully close.

You were so kind, partly because you didn’t know— didn’t know how he treated you then.

But now, you were looking at him with that delicate stare, with a warmth that felt like forgiveness for sins you didn’t even remember… it was too much. 

And fuck, he was so deeply, desperately in love with you. Every careful touch of your hands, every time your eyes met his— it made his chest ache.

He knew he had to have you now. Before Yelena could take you away from him.

Before Yelena could ruin this.

The words escaped him, hoarse, almost a whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Your hands froze, your eyes widened. 

The words echoed in your mind. Time felt like it had slowed to a stop, your thoughts scrambled.

You had wanted this—wanted him—for so long, but had always held back. You did not want to cross that line.

But now… now, he was asking you to, almost pleading.

He swallowed, suddenly fearing he’d overstepped. 

But before he could apologize or take the words back, you leaned in, crashing your lips on to his, mindful of the bruise he had.

He was hesitant at first, waiting for you to pull back, to change your mind. When you didn’t, when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his restraint shattered.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

Your lips deepened into his, turning desperate, urgent, and he drank every part of you in. His metal hand roamed up your back, pressing against you as though he were trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, and he groaned low in his throat. He sounded rough, needy. His hands found your waist, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, inching closer. He felt your heartbeat against his chest, wild and frantic, just like his.

You grew hungrier, his mouth moving against yours with a fierce, aching desperation that left him dizzy. He found himself lost in you, his hands gripping you tighter, scared that you would slip away.

“I don’t know if I loved you then,” You broke away just long enough to gasp, “but I love you now.”

Bucky’s breath hitched as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Yours. He thought. I am yours now. No matter what Yelena says.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a ragged whisper.

For a moment, nothing else existed but the two of you, the world slipping away as he kissed again.

It was rougher this time, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his human fingers. You arched into his touch, gasping, and he kissed the hollow of your throat, breathing in the scent of you, feeling the way you clung to him.

And then, through the haze, a thought crept in, sharp and unwelcome, cutting through the bliss.

She deserves to know who she’s falling in love with, Yelena had said.

His hands stilled, the words rattling in his mind. He couldn’t ignore the truth—he was selfishly keeping you in the dark, shielding you from his mistakes, his regrets. 

He knew, deep down, that Yelena was right. 

But as you looked at him, eyes half-lidded and love drunk, fingers tracing his jaw lovingly, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the moment. 

He cupped your face, brushing his thumb along your cheek, pulling you back into another kiss. It was soft this time, as if you were fragile. He thought could bury the guilt in the taste of you, and it did, if only for a while.

For now, he would keep this to himself, whatever the cost. He would let himself have this piece of you, even if it meant carrying the weight of the past alone.

Because, holding you like this, witnessing your love, he knew he’d sacrifice anything to keep you in his arms. 

Monday. 

The morning dawned in soft, golden light spilling through your curtains, and the warmth of it brought a gentle wakefulness that was better than any alarm. 

You were still tucked in Bucky’s arms. Even in sleep, he had held you close.

You stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the quiet before the day began, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady under your cheek.

You gently stirred, and Bucky’s arm tightened slightly.

His eyes slowly fluttered open to meet yours. Still hazy with sleep and a little unfocused, a small, sleepy smile pulled at his lips. 

For a while, he just looked at you. He had a tender quiet, tender awe in his expression that made your heart skip. His hand brushed lightly through your hair, his thumb tracing soft, absent-minded patterns against your shoulder as if he were memorizing the feel of you there beside him.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice still thick and warm from sleep.

You smiled. "Good morning."

"I hope last night was… okay." There was a slight pink to his cheeks, as if he hadn’t quite processed what happened.

Last night had begun slowly. 

It had started with soft, teasing kisses, and grew heated, electric. His hands began to explore, gliding down your back. The need was there—gentle yet unmistakable. 

Each touch had been a gentle question, asking if you wanted him to keep going, and each time, your answer had come in the way you tugged him closer, the way your hands wandered over his skin, over his metal arm as if it was flesh and bone.

As you moved to the bed, his lips found their way down your neck. He had pressed slow, tender kisses that left you trembling, soft gasps escaping your mouth. His hands had traveled down your sides. He had to let you feel how long he had wanted this for, yet never rushing.

The two of you had found a rhythm that felt like it was only yours and yours alone. You had laid there with him, moving together in a seamless, gentle flow. His gaze hadn’t left yours, even as his breaths grew heavier and his grip tightened. He had needed you to know how much he wanted you.

Your fingers had threaded through his hair, his name a soft whisper on your lips as you both grasped for each other’s high.

After cleaning and washing up, you had laid in your his and drifted off to sleep. The concrete had fallen on you in your dreams again, but this time you had been calm. This time, you had known it was going to pass. 

“It was more than okay,” you whispered, leaning closer, feeling his fingers tighten around you in response. 

Shyly, you gave a chaste kiss on his lips.

He returned it with a gentle smile.

Eventually, you both made your way to the kitchen, the usual morning routine feeling new and intimate now. 

He brewed coffee while you prepped breakfast, and though you both moved around in comfortable silence.

Every time you reached for something on the counter, his hand would brush against yours, and every time, he’d give you a playful grin.

After breakfast, he grabbed his jacket and raised an eyebrow. “Want to take a walk?”

The air outside was fresh with the early morning scent of dew on grass. The two of you walked side by side, his fingers brushing against yours with a sweet, hesitant touch, as if he were testing the waters. Finally, he slipped his hand into yours. 

You felt your cheeks warming, but you laced your fingers together without hesitation. 

Wednesday.

You woke up in Bucky’s arms again, and that night, the nightmares didn’t even come for you.

You did your morning routine, opting for a walk a little closer to lunch.

He pulled you into a tiny bookstore nestled into the corner of a quiet street, the cozy little shop bathed in soft, amber light and filled with the scent of dusty old pages. You wandered through the aisles, hands still entwined, occasionally stopping to point out interesting titles or laugh at the oddball covers on some of the paperbacks. 

He picked out a book that you loved, holding it out with an encouraging smile. “This one’s supposed to be great,” he said, the excitement in his voice contagious.

“Oh, really?” you replied, grinning as you took the book and added it to your stack. 

The walk back to your place was even better, both of you lost in soft laughter as he pointed out small things around the neighborhood you’d only noticed noticed now—a tiny coffee shop you’d walked by countless times, a mural tucked behind an old theater.

Back at your apartment, you settled on the couch, sipping water as you thumbed through the pages of your new book. Bucky leaned back beside you, stretching an arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into him without a second thought. 

His fingers traced gentle patterns on your shoulder as you read, and it took everything in you to keep your focus on the words in front of you, though you found yourself glancing over at him every few minutes, catching him watching you with that soft, steady gaze.

“Something on your mind?” you teased, nudging him slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice soft, sincere. “Just… you.” His words were so earnest that you felt yourself melt, unable to keep from smiling as you leaned in closer, your head resting on his shoulder.

The evening drifted in, you’d both fallen into a comfortable routine of watching a movie after dinner, and tonight was no different. As the movie started, Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against him.

Halfway through, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You looked up as he brushed a strand of hair from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, slow and filled with an unspoken promise that made your heart ache in the best way.

You settled back against him, resting your head on his chest.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured.

“Me too,” you whispered.

Sunday.

Some nights, in the last couple of days, Bucky would find himself wide awake, sitting in silence on the edge of the bed, watching you sleep. The room was steeped in darkness, but there was just enough moonlight to illuminate the soft rise and fall of your chest.

The sight of you in gentle slumber, after all those weeks of struggling with the nightmares, should have reassured him, should have brought him comfort. But instead, it made his heart ache with a strange longing. 

Regret.

He sat there, hunched forward. Often, his hands clasped tightly together. His mind would wander, as it usually did in these quiet hours.

It drifted to the way he’d been with you before. Cold. Guarded. Pushing you away, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance. 

He’d been so convinced you’d be better off without him, that he was doing you a favor by holding back, by shutting you out whenever you got too close.

But now… now you were giving him a second chance without even knowing it.

He wondered, night after night, if he was good enough for you now.

He couldn’t quite shake the fear that he was still falling short. That, one day, you’d remember everything, and this fragile happiness he’d found would shatter.

Part of him wanted to tell you, to open up, to confess everything about the person he’d been. The part of him that wanted you to know the truth, even if it hurt, even if it meant risking what he had with you now. But every time he got close to imagining what that conversation might look like, he’d stop himself. He would imagine your face filled with hurt, with betrayal.

Could he be the person you thought he was without telling you the truth about who he’d been?

-to be continued...

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[scribblesofagoonerr]

Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, C - Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

I guess I'm on a roll tonight? 3 parts posted so far, I'm not even sure how many parts this will end up with but, um, yeah, i hope you like this one and it's not to heavy to read.

Absolutely none of it's proof-read so yet again it could seem jumbled up or not even make sense but umm I can't sleep and my brain is overthinking at 4 am so this is the result of it :)

Thanks for all the continuous love and support on this so far!

Waking up in hospital, you think over your thoughts about what happened and wonder if you really did mean to do it?

tw: heavy angst, talks of SH, MH, suicide and death.

Bright lights and slow repetive beeps followed by the sterile smell of a hospital enrivoment.

That's how you knew it was bad when you woke up.

You really hadn't mean for it to get to that point though, you made the mistake of cutting deeper than you should have and now you have landed yourself in the hospital.

This was definitely not your smartest move you had pulled.

Something tells you it wouldn't be so easy to hide your pain behind a fake smile now.

You felt the wet tears covering your own hand along with the heavy weight of another body practically leaning on you.

"Geez, did somebody die in here or something?" Was the first words you spoke since you had fallen unconcious and of course, it was with your usual cocky teenage atttiude.

Dark humour has always been your go to, you hate to show any type of vulnerability.

"Y/N/N" Leah voice croaks in surprise as she sits bolt up right to look straight at you. "You're awake, finally!" she immediately breaks down into sobs again as she reaches towards you and wraps her arms around you.

"Yeah, I'm awake but there's no need to cry about it" You struck back with the same cocky atittude, that drove your team mates crazy but loved you never the less. "Seriously though, did someone die? Cos' you're crying that much right now that I'm begining to think so" you note, hiding your own pain behind the smile.

Just keep smiling, nobody will ask questions.

Everyone will think you're fine.

"Seriously, Y/N?" Leah is quick to smack you around the back of the head as she's now giving you one of her famous glares, one that you knew all too well. "You scared me to death, you little shit!" she admits, showing her vunerability.

"Ow. Ow-- Hey, you can't hit me, I'm fragile right now" You can't help but pout and hope for sympathy from the older blonde girl.

"Fragile, huh? You seem fine enough to be making jokes" Leah remarks as she continues to glare at you.

"Come on, you know that dark humour is the way to go sometimes Le" You grin at the blonde, who doesn't seem to have the same idea.

See? Totally easy to hide your pain.

Leah just stares at you in disbelief you're really cracking jokes right now, "You're unbelieve sometimes, Y/F/N" she mutters aloud.

"Uh oh, your using my full name, am I in trouble now?" You can't help to continue with your cocky, I don't give a shit attitude never the less you had worried all of your team mates like you did.

"Right now I'm just glad that you're alive," Leah admits as she rewraps her arms around you and squeezes you gently. "But if you ever scare me like that again then we'll be having a very different conversation!" she tells you, sternly.

"Okay" You wince slightly as the tightness of the hug that the blonde was very reluctant to let go off you. "Seriously, Le. I'm fine now, why are you still crying so much?" You ask, confused.

"I'm crying because I... I thought I had really lost you this time" Leah speaks her thoughts aloud as she still holds onto you like you would disappear all over again. "When I found you, like the... like the way I did, I thought you was going to die" she adds in, quietly.

Your own amused smile starts to falter as you glance down at the bandages wrapped around your arm. "I'm sorry... I am really sorry for scaring you like that" You apologise quietly, starting to realise the seriousness of it all.

You must've had all of your team mates so worried and right now you were only acting like a total jackass about it.

"I was so scared" Leah replies as she pulls away from hugging you before she readjusts to move onto the bed beside you. "There was so much blood, Y/N/N. I... I thought when we arrived at the hospital, it would be too late and I'd be saying goodbye to you instead" she explains, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

Shit, why did I go and do that? I've made Leah almost have a nervous break down.

How could you be so selfish? You didn't deserve the love you recieved from your team mate.

"I bet the bathrooms' a right bloody mess now then" You can't help the comment that slips out of your mouth.

Once again, dark humour is a key to hiding the reality of pain.

Leah clicks her tongue at your comment, although she can tell exactly what you're doing now.

You had been doing it all this long so easily, it was just that nobody realised it.

"Why didn't you tell me that it was getting bad again?" The blondes' question is something that catches you off guard.

Guilt-striken to hear her words, you found sudden interest with the crisp white sheets currently covering you.

There was a lot of things that you could have said, but would she want to hear any of it?

Nobody can help me with the way I feel,

I'm so tired,

I wanted to relieve the pain, I wanted a way out.

All of the questions racing through your mind, you actually began to wonder if you had cut yourself that deep on purpose? Did your own selfishness overshadow any other feelings inside of you.

The battle with your inner demons was just too much sometimes, you was just so exhausted now.

So, why couldn't you have just been left to die instead?

"What's going on inside your head, Y/N/N?" Leah's next question brought you out of your dark thoughts. "Talk to me, you know that I'm here to listen" she states with a gentle tone of voice.

Although the next words that you speak are nothing that she can be prepared to hear.

"I think... I think I wanted to die, I wanted an out on life" Your voice quivers as you admit the truth to the blonde, finally.

"W... What?" Leah looks at you with a mixture of shock and hurt.

"I'm so tired, Le-- I'm just so fuckin' tired. I... I can't do this anymore" You express your feelings as you feel yourself tearing up.

It was as if Leah hadn't quite regestered the words you had said, or she had but she refused to believe that you actually did want to try and kill yourself.

"The girls all went to get coffee, um I think that all of the girls will be back soon though" The blonde tells you quietly as she wraps her free arm around you and gives you a small smile.

Denial, it was so easy to pretend there wasn't anything to read into with your most recent confession.

"Leah--"

"I bet they'll be happy to know that you're awake now" Leah cut you off as she continues to give you that weary smile, you weren't sure if she was now clutching onto you a bit tighter in fear of you pulling another stunt like you did.

"Leah, didn't you hear me? I said I wanted to die!" You shout loud enough for her to suck in a sharp breath.

"I heard you, Y/N/N-- I heard you, I saw you, I... I was there for it all. I was the one who found you in the bathroom; You was lay in a pool of your own blood while you were slipping in and out of unconciousness" Leah broke her game of where she didn't pretend you as she turned to face you, you had her whole attention now. "I sat there, pressing a god-damn towel against your cuts, praying that you would make it and you... you tell me that you want to die? You don't get to die. You can't, we need you-- Damn it Y/N, I need you! Y... You're my family! So you don't get to tell me you want to die!" she tells you, the shake in her voice so evident that she's close to tears again.

"What? You... You want to die?" Beth broke the tense silence as she has a distraught look on her face.

"Do you really mean that?" Lia questions as her eyes widen in shock.

Neither you or Leah realise that some of the older girls had made their way back to your room, when they arrived they were delighted with the realisation that you were now finally awake after the long 24 hours but that quickly turned into shock and hurt when they heard Leah's words so boldly, that even the patients down the hall probably would've heard.

"I do, I did... I don't know. I'm tired, I can't... I can't keep doing this anymore" You admit out loud for every single one of them to hear.

You hear the blonde beside you suck in another sharp breath as she keeps her arm firmly attached round your shoulder.

The confession is left hanging in the air, leaving a tense feeling and it was suddenly so quiet that in the room that you were certain that you would even be able to hear a pin drop.

Nobody utters a word, a state of shock written across each one of their faces.

"Sometimes sleep isn't enough when it's my soul that's tired" You tell them, leaving them all stood there grief-stricken with the realisation that you really had been struggling for longer than you wanted to admit.

[lady-phasma]

Auntie, I have a question.

In the books Lestat gives Louis the dark gift towards the end of the 18th century, but in the tv show he turns him in 1910. That leaves a considerable amount of time where Lestat hadn’t met Louis.

I plan to write a (x reader) pre-canon fic about this gap in time before Lestat and Louis meet. Do you know what he might have been doing during this time? (Do you think it might work for a fic?)

Sorry if this is a dumb question! Thank you!!

Hi nonnie! This is not a dumb question at all. In fact, it's so great that I made you a gif set to go with my answer!

This is the series canon about the time between Nicki and Louis. I know we can't trust everything said in the trial, but for this I think it's okay.

I'll answer below the cut.

First, let me say that I am honored and flattered that you came to me about this. If you want to DM me, feel free. If you want to come back as anon you can have 🖋 anon if you want it.

Second, even a 2 year gap is lot of time to work with. We know he would need to feed as soon as he wakes up and he's a non-discriminating slut, so I know he would have some fun even if he's still brokenhearted. I think you could do so much in that time! Whether or not you decide to write smut, you could certainly give him a meaningful interaction with reader. You didn't mention if your idea for your reader was human or vampire, either could work, but my brain immediately went to "Lestat's hungry after his nap so he's probably killing a lot, what if he met a non-coven vampire in the French countryside?"

My nerd brain also had the idea that you could see what ports were most commonly used for passage from France to the US in 1908-1910 and I'm pretty sure the main one is in the south of France (used by the US military in WWI and WWII but I can't think of the name right now). Crap, I had to google it because that was going to bug me. LoL Saint-Nazaire, France. Double check that if you decide to go this direction, but it's about 470 km (292 miles) south of Paris by modern roads. There's a lot territory for him to cover if he used that port.

If that doesn't interest you, please disregard! I just wanted to point out that you have a lot to work with even if it's "only" two years between his sleep and New Orleans.

Lastly, without finding a definitive timeline of Lestat for the series yet, I'm thinking he was turned in the 1760s (or around there). If someone has a better timeline that would be great, but seasons one and two haven't given us exact dates that I can find. Anyway, if future seasons follow his plot pretty closely then you might have some of his time between his turning and when he meets Armand (yes, Nicki is in Paris but we don't have to headcanon monogamy if we don't want to and he is canonically often non-monogamous). Lestat as a horny, awe-struck fledgling might be fascinating!

I can't wait to read what you decide to do! You don't have to come off anon to tag me in it unless you want to. I would love that, but maybe I'll come across it when/if you post it!

I think this is going to be great and feel free to come back and discuss this more if you would like!

[zushikiss]

genshin men as random times

summary ; random times and which genshin men + scenario i associate them with

warnings ; petnames (darling, baby in ayato's), slight mentions of a panic attack in xiao's

pairings ; ayato, venti, xiao x gn!reader

notes ; vv domestic and fluffy!! i've been writing these at random times in between classes and i think i finally have enough to post 🥹

8:42 pm - KAMISATO AYATO

and when the clock strucks 8:30 the door opens like always, you stand up from the dining table where you're trying to figure out how to do an origami you saw online, you stand and jog over to the door to greet your boyfriend.

"Welcome home!"

He smiles and immediately and he hugs you, placing half his weight on you as you then whine about how heavy he is.

"Yah, you're too heavy!"

"Work was tiring, let me rest a bit, darling."

"Rest as long as you want but please, take a shower first so we can go to sleep right away. "

and like clockwork, he'll whine but leave nonetheless, the offer of sleeping sounding amazing, and like always, on 8:42 he'll emerge from the bathroom and lay in between your legs, burying his face into your stomach as you let out a chuckle and play with his hair.

"Yatoo, baby you can't sleep like that."

"Yes i can, who'll stop me?"

"Me!! Now come up so we can sleep."

he looks up and he sees you staring right at him with a small pleading smile, he jokingly rolls his eyes as he climbs up, now nuzzling his face into your neck as you press a kiss on his temple.

"Goodnight, even if you're like a big baby."

9:32 am - VENTI

venti knew nothing about cooking, that was clear to anyone who knew him, so to say that diluc and jean were shocked when they got pulled into a video call at the ass crack of morning was no exageration.

"Why'd you call? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, are you alright?"

"Everything's fine! I just need help."

"Help with?"

"I wanna cook for my s/o, they said the've been missing the food from their homeland soooo."

and with that, the cooking started, though it took her a couple tries, he finally succeeded, he checks the time and its 9:32 am, as he ended the call and started to clean up the mess, you sleepily emerged from your room, you navigated towards him as you wrapped your arms around venti, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Morning ven. You woke up pretty early."

"I cooked for you! Quick give it a taste!"

1:57 am - XIAO

it was 1:46 in the morning and you couldn't sleep, you had a huge event later that day and you couldn't help but be nervous, your chest tightens as you struggle to breathe, tears soak your shirt as you find it difficult to breathe, you couldn't bring herself to call anyone, you hesitate but you call out to him.

"Xiao?"

"Are you okay?"

he appeared in an instant, once he noticed the state you were in he hesitated but he disappeared, you thought he didn't want to deal with you but at 1:57 he appears once again, he finds you near the foot of your bed, just the same as he left you earlier, he sat beside you as he hugged you, nudging you head towards his chest as you stained his shirt with tears.

"I got you some food... and flowers. They tend to calm me down when i'm upset so i hope they comfort you the same way the do to me."

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Sinus Rhythm

This is the last part of my Sean Wallace childhood friends to lovers anthology series.

No obligation to read tags: @darklydeliciousdesires @lovemissyhoneybee @daydreaming-belle

Contains: Injury, medical inaccuracies, fluff.

1.4K words

There are some things Sean can't forget.

They didn't know if the car accident was a planned hit or really just wrong place, wrong time; all they knew was that Sean's ribs were broken so badly they needed to be set with plates and screws, that he missed shredded lungs by the miracles of millimetres and that he had a concussion that would require serious monitoring.

There was an anxiety you couldn't name, and the smell of disinfectant and sickness blended together to form a thick patina on the walls that made your skin crawl. The doctor wouldn't let you into his room to wait with him, that was for immediate family only, Billy told you he get you the moment Sean opened his eyes. The ticking clock in the waiting room seemed to mock you, the seconds passing into minutes, which eventually bled into hours until you took off your jacket to use as a pillow and curled into a ball to get some sleep on the rock hard chair; it was going to be a long day.

****

When Sean awoke, he only had a vague idea of what was happening, all he really knew was that he was in a hospital and that his side ached like he had done ten rounds with an ogre. There was a man sitting by his bed he almost knew, like his identity was dangling too far away to reach but then again, everything felt like that right now.

He must have been someone because the second Sean asked who he was, the man paled and rushed to get a doctor. The doctors told him it was post-traumatic amnesia, that in twenty-four hours, he should be back to normal, then there was a click from one of the machines attached to him, and a pleasant warmness lulled him back to sleep.

When he woke again, the name he now knew was his brother was still with him, sipping on a coffee as he read the paper. "Your brain still all empty?"

He shrugged. "Mostly." He looked around, it was a nice room, one only the wealthy could afford. He could see people passing by through the window along one wall, the mix of nurses and doctors growing boring, that was until a woman walked by in civilian clothes, and his heart rate monitor beeped just a bit faster. "Who is that?"

Billy looked up from his newspaper at his tone and chuckled when he saw your tired face. "That's y/n. You don't remember her?"

Sean shook his head. "No, but she's the most exquisite creature I've ever laid my eyes on. Please don't tell me she's your girlfriend?"

He held back a laugh, an evil idea forming in his mind. "No mate, I'll go get her, try not to pop a stitch."

He watched through the window as Billy talked to you, your face awash with so many emotions and he was overcome with the urge to wipe away the wetness that was gathering in your eyes. He did his best to straighten up as you walked in, the doctors had his bed in the raised position to take pressure off his ribs, and he was grateful that it meant you weren't looking down at him when you sat on the edge of the bed. "Billy said you can't remember shit."

His brain was screaming at him to say something, but he was so struck by your beauty that he found himself rendered mute. "Sean."

He blinked. "Yes, but as I'm sure my brother told you, I'll be back to normal by tomorrow. Now who are you?"

You nodded. "Billy didn't…" A glance at his brother showed he was barely holding back a smile. "Who do you think I am?" You didn't want to say it was payback for the fright he gave you, but it was.

He grinned. "Well, you must be my girlfriend." You had to be, there was no other reason for this strange feeling in his chest.

You shook your head, and a lump formed in his throat. "We've been best friends since we were six." No, that couldn't be right, there had to be something more, especially when your hand linked in his and it made him feel like the whole world was sucked away. "You're stone off your gourd and hurt. You'll remember everything in the morning then you can go back to giving me shit for my taste in men."

You turned to Billy and raised your eyebrows. "Can I speak to you outside for a moment?"

He stood up and left but as you went to do the same, Sean stopped you, grabbing your hand and holding on for dear life. "Please don't go, I don't want you to leave."

You squeezed his hand and smiled. "I'll be back in five minutes."

He let you go with a frown and you went outside to talk to Billy. "I get it, but really dude?"

He grinned. "He almost died, now's a good a time as any."

You sighed. "We were just happy being cowards, why do you need to interfere?"

He shrugged. "Because I don't want sister in law I can't stand. Mother's going to push him to marry sooner or later, better it be to the woman he's been in love with since he was a teenager."

Your eyes went wide. "It's really been that long? I thought…." It grew obvious Sean had feelings for you months ago, but you had both been dancing around it, for what reason it was hard to say.

He slapped a hand on your shoulder. "Yep, now get back in there before he hobbles out to get you. I'll go home and get you a change of clothes so you can freshen up."

He raced away before you could say more, and you returned to Sean's bedside with a sigh. "What do you want to know?"

He grinned as best he could. "Everything."

****

Things came back in slowly, fading through the fogginess of his mind until the memories felt real. But Sean didn't stop you from retelling all your favourite stories from your friendship if only to hear them from your perspective. The heart rate monitor's beeping was infuriating, the flash of sound letting the whole world know each time he had a rush of emotion. It went on for hours, Billy sitting guard outside to make sure no one walked in to interrupt, he even shooed away their mother.

But the more the amnesia wore off, the more it became clear to him how close he was to dying. He wasn't a man to take things for granted, not after everything he had to do to get his London back in his family's hands and yet, you still remained unaware of his feelings, even though he caught you looking at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He took a deep breath, unwilling to betray his nervousness with the audible untick of his heart. "Y/n, I have to tell you something."

You knew it was coming, the way he was looking at you made that much clear. "Yeah?"

He took your hand in his, his thumb drifting over the backs of your fingers as he gathered himself. "I have been lying to you." He took another deep breath. "The last thing I thought about before I passed out was that I was never going to get to tell you the truth and I must remedy that now."

You held up a hand to stop him, placing your hand on his cheek before leaning down to kiss him. He accepted, his lips soft as he linked his fingers in yours. "You don't need to say anything, I know, I love you too."

He kissed you again, firmer this time, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as you fight the urge to grab at him. But the second he went to do more, his side lit up like someone had stuck his ribs on the stove. He did his best to hide it, but you pulled back with a smile. "We should stop."

He was positively miffed, like someone had yanked his favourite toy away. "The second I'm back in fighting shape we are going to.."

You shook your head to stop him. "I know."

He grinned and slowly shifted across the bed so you could sit next to him on his uninjured side. "You can stay here tonight, with that we're paying them they can't complain."

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'd like that."

Fin

[yourmomsgranddad]

9-1-1 8x06 Thoughts

First of all, BUMMY BONES!!! Period! I was waiting for that. I screamed like my team had just won the Super Bowl and I feel kind of bad because I saw Buck's little sad face. :(

But that's not my only thought.

People were saying that Tommy and Buck break up felt out of place. I know this will sound kind of biased as a Buddie fan, but it didn't really seem weird.

Buck revealed to Tommy that he not only knew Abby but she was an important person in his life and she changed him and then they both moved on. He probably heard that and thought 'Oh no, I'm just a placeholder, he's going to dump me, let me get ahead of him before he can.' Which is very fair.

He should not have made that decision for Buck but I think he was just protecting himself. He didn't want to get hurt because he knew he liked Buck but his interests lie elsewhere.

Most people don't stay with their first gay relationship (unless you're Nick & Charlie which they aren't.) and Tommy sensed that. He was just a way to help get Buck out of the closet and he didn't want to go further with him when he figured he was going to drop him at some point.

And I'm not saying this as a Buddie fan, I'm saying this as a person with eyes and ears.

When Tommy gives Buck the basketball tickets, Tommy tells him he doesn't have to take him, he could take Eddie instead. But then he sees joy that sprouts on his face and he takes it back.

When they first get together, Buck told him he was vying for his attention. Tommy looked him dead in his face and asked him clearly "my attention?" It was very obvious throughout the episode that Buck was mad that his best friend was hanging out with someone else. When Buck was looking at Eddie, waiting for him to look at him, Tommy wasn't there.

And Tommy noticed.

But he knew Buck had some feelings to get out so maybe if helped him out of the closet, he would feel good about himself. But then he started to like him, and so did Buck. And he knew this going in, it wasn't going to last.

So to the people who said the break-up came out of nowhere; I think it was a wake-up call to Tommy. Buck asked him to move in and he was like 'Oh no. This has gone too far.'

I am a person who was taught 'you get what you get and you don't get upset'. So when Tommy and Buck broke up, I didn't immediately get pissed at the writers, I want to see if they do something good with it.

But enough about those gays.

Madney baby no. 2! Hell yeah! I hope they don't make Maddie depressed again, I'd love to see her get to enjoy all the moments of being a mother since she missed some of them with Jee. Maybe some jealousy from Jee.

Eddie mustache gone! Metaphor for not hiding?

Next episode, more Athena. Yes please.

Also next episode, hinting at Buck getting struck by lightning.

This episode hinting at the well Eddie got stuck in?

Is Buck going to get shot? Are they finally going to give us the storyline they were supposed to? Maybe.

I think if they go that route, it definitely could jumpstart the slowburn Oliver was talking about.

Speaking of Oliver, I saw some other posts that were talking about him being biphobic for saying he wanted Buck to start sleeping around with everyone.

I completely understand stereotypes are bad. But there's nothing wrong with wanting to find out what you like as a queer person. And there's also something very human of having gone through something kind of traumatic and falling back into bad habits.

Buck is heartbroken, he's had too many bad relationships and he could be feeling bad for himself. He might go to a bar and end up picking up a girl or guy. Also, it's very obvious this guy is a freak. Ring cutter?

Him sleeping around wouldn't be giving into a bisexual stereotype I don't think. It was a part of his character before he found he was bisexual. Just because he's bi now, he has to drop an old plotline because it's a stereotype? Is it really a stereotype if this was a part of him before he figured out this other part of himself?

Anyway those are my thoughts. Can't wait for next episode!

[onekeii]

10:52pm. yang jeongin - happy birthday

pairings: yang jeongin x gn!reader

genre: romance, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 500+

a/n: i'm a little late but it's still the 8th where i live so it counts. i love jeongin sm so i wanted to write a little smth for his birthday <33. also this is the first thing i am posting i hope u like it

masterlist

reblog if you enjoy!

[10:52pm]

He’s usually home by now. You had been pacing around the kitchen for over half an hour now, the sound of your own footsteps driving you crazy. It only made you want to pace around more. Where was he?

Your eyes fell on the clock, relieved to see that it had not yet struck midnight. 68 minutes. You and Jeongin had 68 minutes left to celebrate his birthday. You began to panic again, dragging your feet across the floor even though your legs screamed for a break. There were twenty-four hours in a day, and yet the both of you were somehow only left with 68 minutes. And counting.

The truth is, today was just like any other day. The two of you rarely ever got to spend time together; life had a habit of getting in the way. You were usually up and out of the house at the crack of dawn, careful not to wake your boyfriend up. By the time you arrived home, he was usually at work. He always came back a little too late, too, finding you already fast asleep in your shared bed. The same thing was likely to happen again today if he didn’t hurry up - you could feel your eyelids grow heavy at the idea of the clock drawing closer to midnight.

It wasn’t an ideal arrangement, but the two of you still made it work; that’s what you do when you love someone, after all. The rare days where both you and Jeongin were free were spent joined at the hip with him, your body unable to leave his side even if you wanted to. 

And on the normal days, where you hardly ever saw each other, you would find remnants of his love - evidence that he still existed in your life - dotted around the house. Your house. Post-it notes stuck to every surface imaginable: they wished you a good day, they told you random facts he had learned, they filled you in on the drama between his friends, they made sure you didn’t forget to pack your lunch. There was a stack of post-it notes and a pen in every room for this reason, and you made sure to keep every single one, neatly tucked away in your bedside drawer. 

Just this once, you wanted to do something nice for him. It was his birthday, after all. You didn’t have any presents for him; whenever you asked Jeongin what he wanted, the answer was always the same. You. So that was your gift for him - fighting off the sleep that threatened to consume you, just to welcome him home. To hold him, to kiss him, to tell him happy birthday. 

A deep sigh escaped you as you turned to the stack of post-it notes on the counter. With just under an hour left, you contemplated leaving a measly little note for him and giving up for today. Just as you picked up the pen, the front door unlocked with a click.

Adrenaline immediately shot through your veins. He’s finally home. You could’ve sworn your heart was going to burst through your chest. He wasn’t expecting you to still be awake, so he very much got his birthday surprise when you stuck your head out from the kitchen with a little too much excitement. When he realised it was only you, his face softened instantly, dropping all his stuff just to hold his arms out to you. You accepted without hesitation, slotting yourself perfectly within his embrace.

“Happy birthday, Yang Jeongin.”

taglist - taglist is open!!

@abi121 @sockjam

[teddypickrwritings]

HELLO!!!! i see that u do character x character and im respectfully humbly and looking at u with big sparkly eyes if u could possible perhaps maybe write ithaqua x luca? 🥺👉👈

Resting - Night Watch x Prisoner (IthaLuca)

A/N: My belief that Luca can be shipped with anyone (within reason) remains strong. Thank you for requesting! Apologies that this took a bit to write, life stuff kept me busy. ^^;

Despite what many believed, Ithaqua did not hate people. It was true that he was unsociable and…off-putting, to say the least. But it couldn’t be helped. He had barely interacted with a single person besides his mother for years. His victims didn’t count.

Ithaqua just preferred to observe everyone’s interactions. It was a form of amusement for him. But no one amused him more than a certain electrically-charged survivor.

Luca was a bit of a strange case in terms of personality. He liked talking to people, often carrying conversations, but spent a lot of time holed up in his room. He was well-mannered because of his noble upbringing, but could be as loud and impulsive as the lightning that coursed through his body. Ithaqua found him to be charming.

“You know, chasing you around is like a game of cat and mouse,” Ithaqua once said to Luca post-match. He had tried to keep his feelings of annoyance down—it wasn’t a secret that Luca was an easy target, but the prisoner’s evasiveness had been exceptionally high today.

“Cat and mouse, huh? Interesting comparison,” Luca mused, his fanged smirk growing. “A lot of people here are like cats in a bad way—always throwing hissy fits. It can be such a bother…but you, well, you’re like a giggly cat. If cats could giggle.”

Ithaqua, of course, giggled at that. And Luca’s smile upon hearing it made the slight embarrassment. “You are more like a rat,” the masked man quipped. “And I’m not sure why. You just are.”

Luca pretended to be offended. “Why, Mister Ithaqua, that was rude of you,” he laughed. But it turned into a wince of pain as he was suddenly struck with a small headache. “Ow, ow…!”

The lighthearted mood immediately dissipated. “Are you okay?” Ithaqua asked, a bit of concern in his voice. He knew it must be something related to Luca’s brain damage.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” the shorter man muttered. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, a bit of static making it raise up a little. “Ah, what were we talking about?”

“Cats and rats,” Ithaqua deadpanned. He grabbed Luca by his collar and started dragging him away. “But not anymore. You better get some rest right now.”

Luca protested the whole way back to his room (wait, how did Ithaqua know where it was?) but wasn’t really struggling like one normally would in a match. Anyone they passed by didn’t move in to help at all, either out of fear or confusion.

Ithaqua practically kicked down the door and dropped Luca onto his bed covered in paper. “The state of your room is something to behold,” he said sarcastically. He couldn’t help but look around at the various notes and bits of machinery strewn everywhere. “So this is what you’re always up to…”

“Of course!” There was pride in Luca’s voice. “I told myself that no matter how spotty my memories get, I will be able to finish this machine.” He grabbed a fistful of his hair again with a hiss—the headache. He forgot about that.

“Well, you’re certainly not going to work on it now,” Ithaqua said firmly. He released that the sharp ends of his stilts could potentially stab through the papers, so he sat down and quickly took them off. Then he went to close the curtains so the sun wasn’t streaming in Luca’s face. “You better sleep right this instant.”

Luca looked at him suspiciously. “Since when did you care about people? And me, to an extent?” he asked.

Ithaqua narrowed his eyes. “You’re saying that as if I’m a cold, heartless monster,” he growled. He sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Maybe I am heartless in a way. Emotions have become intolerable for me. But still, don’t just assume that I’d hurt you without reason.”

“That’s not what I was implying at all,” Luca said. He sat up and put a hand on Ithaqua’s shoulder, static electricity crackling faintly. “I just don’t ever remember you acting like this towards anyone.”

Ithaqua felt even more ashamed because he was right. How annoying. Wasn’t he supposed to be helping Luca feel better and not the other way around?

“There’s no shame in having emotions,” the prisoner continued.

“Ugh, shut your mouth already!” Ithaqua finally snapped, glaring at him. “You should be resting right now!”

Luca didn’t seem that fazed by the outburst. “If that’s what you want,” he said. He laid back down and turned to lay on his side, back facing Ithaqua. “Feel free to let me rest in peace.”

A few moments of silence. The tone in the prisoner’s voice…it was so infuriating! Yet, Ithaqua couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle invitation for him to stay. “I’ll stay, just to make sure you actually fall asleep,” he huffed.

A sly and content smile appeared on Luca’s face as he heard Ithaqua drag the desk chair next to the bed and sit in it. Oddly enough, despite the taller man being a hunter, he felt safe knowing that he wasn’t alone. And he felt grateful that he wasn’t sleeping on a hard surface like in his prison cell. Luca finally shut his eyes and fell asleep.

And when he woke up about an hour later, he was surprised that Ithaqua had fallen asleep as well. The mask muffled his slight snoring, but he was definitely sleeping.

Luca’s heart warmed at the sight. It was kinda cute seeing him looking like a napping cat. And it was, well…sweet of Ithaqua to have been serious about staying, not to mention surprising that he had fell asleep. Maybe he was truly the one that needed to rest.

“Sleep tight,” Luca whispered. He didn’t dare to try and move Ithaqua to his bed. But he was bold enough to kiss the forehead of his mask very, very gently.

Ithaqua’s dreams became pleasant after that.

[imtheiliad]

YOU MADE HER LIKE THAT [1k | buckley siblings | 6x10 spec] {ao3}

a/n: ending inspired by this post by @buckleyirondad <3. title from mad woman by taylor swift.

TW: reference to canonical suicide attempt.

There have been moments in Maddie’s life where everything has gone right. The past few days have been the opposite of that. Especially the past few hours. It had started with a quip about Jee’s bed time. Then how Chimney wasn’t here as if he wasn’t working. She was starting to hate the fact that this house had a guest bedroom.

She stood her ground. Pointedly skewered her parents. Then they had disappeared until now.

The rain pelting against the windows. Thunder booming. Lightning cracking the sky. The house was still. Jee is scared enough to not want to sleep or be alone, as she plays in the living room under Maddie’s watchful eye. She is still feeling the fire burning like there was more to say. There were decades worth of pain.

“Maddie, we wanted to come down and apologize,” her father begins. And it only douses more gasoline.

“For what? For everything? Never loving your children. Leaving me when I needed my parents to save me?” her phone begins to ring, “Not seeing what was in front of your faces. I wanted to die for 30 years, I almost took my own life last year and you never entered my mind as something to come back for.”

Her phone is incessant. She finally picks it up, “Chimney, I am in the middle of something so this-”

“Maddie, it’s Buck,” she hears the fear in his voice. It’s an echo of Bobby’s last year, “it’s bad. You need to get here fast.”

HEr entire body shakes,

“He was struck by lightning while up on the ladder.”

“Oh god, Buck.”

Her parents raise their heads watching their daughter with scrutiny.

“I’ll get there.”

She hangs up with a shaky finger.

“I, I need to go. I don’t know if I can-”

“We’ll drive you,” her father replies softly.

---

“Your son is in that hospital, dying.” Maddie breaks the drive long silence as she opens the car door her mother still stares blankly forward. Her father gulps but says nothing. She gathers Jee in her arms.

“You can leave her with us.” Margaret says.

“No. If this is her last chance to be with her uncle I am not taking that away from her.” She slams the car door.

She holds her daughter tight to her chest as she walks through the doors. Her legs are still a bit shaky and her eyes trying not to cry too preemptively.

She finds Chimney's eyes immediately in the waiting room. They hold the question with baited breath. And she shakes her head. “It's just the two of us.” she says quietly.

She finds home in his arms for a moment.

“What happened?” she begs, “Why was he up there?”

Chimney clears his throat, “he was finishing up the call, and it started raining and before he could get down the lightning struck him,” Chimney swallows and eyes Eddie who’s sitting with his hands twisted in his lap. “He was hanging, and Eddie, Eddie, went up to get him. But he was up there for a few minutes before we got him down. Maddie, he died up there. We got him back, but he was dead. I thought for a second that Ii was going to have to tell you— that I—“

“Can I see him yet?”

“They’re still getting him set up in a room. Should be soon though,"Bobby replies.

She lets Chimney take Jee completely as she makes her way across the waiting room to Eddie. worry etched deep in his eyes.

“Eddie,” she takes his fidgety hand in her shaky one, “thank you.”

He finally looks at her, lip between his teeth.

“I haven't saved him yet.”

“You gave him one hell of a chance.”

“Maddie,” she hears Chimney say with a new sort of worry in his voice. She looks up and sees her parents standing there, faces still blank.

“No. No you do not get to change your mind. You don’t get to come in here because you know you’ll be judged if you don’t and that is the thing you fear the most isn’t it? Why you hid everything from him? Why we moved. So no, you don’t get to come here for yourselves. To feel better about giving up on him three times. Because you don’t get to start caring now. You are thirty years too late. Fuck you and get out.”

They don’t move.

“This. This is what you will be judged for. It's even worse than if you had just driven off back to Pennsylvania when your son died out there. And you are standing in front of the people who saved him. Brought him back to this world, who put their own lives at risk for his. So shame on you for trying now. You don’t get to anymore. Leave.”

They still don’t move, defiant looks on their faces.

And she glances at Bobby whose face is stoic and focused. He moves between them and her standing to his full height. As she crumbles into Chimney's arms again.

“She told you to get out.” His voice is calm and stoic, laced with anger.

Athena comes back from gathering some coffee and snacks and reads the situation carefully and stands next to her husband raising an eyebrow.

“You heard them. Would you like a police escort?”

They quickly turn on their heels not having said a word in their defense or redemption.

The minutes tick by slowly until a nurse comes and tells them he’s ready for visitors and Maddie takes Jee in her arms and makes her way back, Chimney following close behind.

He looks so vulnerable. Small even.

“Buck! Uncle Buck!” Jee gleefully shouts as she sees him in the bed.

“He's sleeping, baby, be gentle.”

“Uncle Buck sleeping?” Jee says gentler this time and nods, “Good night. Sleep tight. Sweet dreams. I love you. See you in the morning sunshine.” she repeats their nightly chorus softly patting her small hand on his big one.

Chimney takes Jee again and Maddie takes her brother's hand on hers, stroking his knuckles.

“You can’t do this to me Evan. You can’t make me lose both of you. Promise me that?” she hooks her pinky in his limp one, “You come back to me, you hear me?”

[mollybecameanengineer]

My Beloved

Summary: A post Kaddish love story

Read on AO3 or below the break

Author’s note: I rewatched Memento Mori, then Kaddish, and this fell out.

“I am to my beloved, as my beloved is to me.”

Mulder laid on the bed in his hotel room, the events of the night passing before his mind’s eye. Ariel, head to toe in white, in the basement of the synagogue, whispering those words to a dead man. 

“I am to my beloved, as my beloved is to me,” she’d said, as a ghost slipped a ring on her finger. 

Mulder couldn’t help but wonder if he was seeing his own future. Scully, on her deathbed. Him finally telling her the depth of his love. Slipping a ring on her finger as the machines around them flatlined. 

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to chase the images away. It wasn’t going to be like that. Scully would be ok. They would treat her cancer, she’d go into remission. 

She wasn’t dying. 

She. Wasn’t. Dying. 

He would will it to be true. 

“I am to my beloved, as my beloved is to me.”

Possessed by an outside entity, Mulder stood and left his room. He wanted to see her – had to see her. He needed to know she was still alive, that she’d not returned to the earth in his absence. 

He rapped on her door, and when it took her a moment to answer, he finally glanced at his watch. “Shit,” he murmured. It was nearly midnight. 

Just as he started to turn away, the door cracked open. He could tell she’d been asleep, a bleary eyed Scully wasn’t foreign to him. “What is it?” she asked. 

“I…” he trailed off. He didn’t have a reason for waking her, not a sensible one he could speak aloud. 

Scully, seeming to understand, opened the door wider, granting him entry. She got back into bed, while he sat at the small table in her room. “You ok?” she asked, the last word partially obscured by a yawn. 

“I should let you sleep,” Mulder replied, and started to rise. 

“Mulder, you should have thought about that before knocking on my door at a quarter to midnight. What is it?” When he didn’t respond right away, she continued, “I can see how this case could have gotten to you. These hate crimes… they were against people like you. Like your family.”

He swallowed. It had struck him that while none of the Hasidic Jews had regarded him as Jewish, the Nazi mother fucker had. 

Scully continued on. “It’s ok if it got to you. It’s hard when you see yourself in the victims.”

“I…” he cleared his throat. He had seen himself in the victims, just not how Scully imagined. “I saw myself in her,” he confessed. “Ariel.” 

She arched her eyebrow. “How so?”

Mulder leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. In for a penny… “Before you came into the basement, I watched…” he paused, and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I watched Ariel marry Isaac. He slipped that ring on her finger, as she said, ‘I am to my beloved, as my beloved is to me.’ She told him how much she’d loved him. And then,” Mulder looked up and met her eyes. “He turned into dust.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Scully gnawed her lower lip. He could feel she was about to speak. He barreled on. “And tonight, I was laying in bed and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m afraid—”

She cut him off. “Mulder, I’m fine,” 

“For now,” he replied. She started to object, but he continued, “We live dangerous lives, Scully. I could be shot tomorrow. And there are things. Things I need to tell you, that I want to tell you. I don’t want to wait until it’s too late.”

She stiffened, and he immediately regretted his words. She was his co-worker, for God’s sake. She was also his best friend, but first and foremost, they worked together. Laying this on her was unprofessional at best. 

He started to rise, to apologize and leave the room, but she stopped him. “What things?” she whispered. 

Her face was open, her eyes bright. She knew what he was going to say, and it didn’t look like she was afraid of it.

He took a breath. 

“‘I am to my beloved, as my beloved is to me.’”

She stood, and crossed the room to stand between his legs. “‘He feedeth among the lilies,’” she whispered, before leaning down and pressing her lips against his. 

Her lips were soft and sweet, and he relished the feel of them against his own. After a moment he pulled back. He looked up, and their eyes met. Never in his wildest thoughts did his leaving his room tonight lead to them kissing, to say nothing of what he saw in her eyes now. She took his hand and stepped back, causing him to stand. In silence, she led him to the bed. 

It all happened so quickly. In a moment, their clothes were gone, and his head was between her thighs. He prayed before her altar, prostrating himself before her. Once she’d had her pleasure, he climbed up her body, settling between her legs. 

They began to kiss again, and she, impatient, reached between them to guide him home. They both gasped. 

“God Scully, I love you,” he whispered before he could stop himself. 

She kissed him, before wrapping her legs around his hips to urge him on. 

It could have been a minute or an hour that they made love, the passage of time ceased to be linear. He was surrounded by the feel of her, the smell. The taste. Her moans and soft sighs urged him on until she gasped. She clenched around him, and he couldn’t contain it anymore. He fell over the edge. His seed filled her. 

He collapsed to one side, mindful not to crush her. They were both panting, trying to reclaim their senses. He could feel himself shrinking – he would be separated from her soon. They would rise, use the toilet, wash away the fluids that coated them. 

He wrapped himself around her, not ready to be parted.

tagging: @today-in-fic

[ninjigma]

Twas tagged by @bucketking for the one line WIP thing and I have never really done these things but I shall try and post a snippet. This is... technically the last full writing I worked on that is actual writing and not disconnected note taking XD

Waxer bumped Boil behind one of the many staircases and gave a titled helmeted gaze. “Because, this planet isn’t the right biome at all. Any animal listed or scanned doesn’t fit the makeup, and that isn’t to mention the plants seem sentient enough to kill him if he tried to eat them.” “Then why is he here Waxer?” “I don’t know Boil,” the clone finally snapped, and Obi-Wan felt a bit more heat in his tone, ears flattening slightly. “Maybe someone abandoned him here even. Maybe he was doing little bunny prayers to the Force that someone would save him, maybe he isn’t a rabbit at all but someone crazy shapeshifter that could eat you whole in your sleep!” As he finished his small, absurd growing rant, Waxer thrust Obi-Wan right into Boil’s face, and Obi-Wan insticly sniffed the plastoid curiously, then nibbled at the edge of it in his sudden confusion on what was happening now.  Which he was shocked to find suddenly sent Boil into a fit of honest to goodness giggles. His teeth had clicked along the edge where visor met plastoid, and the soft crickly and wiggling of his nose struck something in the clone suddenly. This in turn had some equal affect on Waxer, who had watched Obi-Wan’s tail flick in excitement at the laughter and was suddenly lost to it as well.  It continued to descend, Obi-Wan flicking his head back and worth with mounting glee. He had never heard them laugh so easily, and he was immediately driven to try and cause more joy, any panic he had at his predicament lost.  Maybe being a… a rabbit wasn’t all bad, for a little bit.

Yes, it is Obi-Bun. Yes, I have actually written for this story. No, I have no idea where it will go or when there will be more, but I am sure I will let you all know heh

Also never know how to tag people and everyone I can immediately think of has already done this, so if you wish to do it, you are very welcome to tag me cause I would love to see ya snippets and lines :)

[sunnimint]

As someone who is now writing a longfic about Metal Sonic pretty much as a direct inspiration from you, I wanted to ask- how do you do it? How do you stick with it? What's your writing and editing process? How do you like to post your fics? etc etc etc please tell me anything and everything

Oh? You are writing a long fic about Metal Sonic? DROP LINK NOW

In all seriousness, let me answer those questions in order. Buckle up and sit down for this one.

I like Metal Sonic. He is, undeniably, one of my favorite characters. The Sonic OVA really fleshed out his character and personality (honorable mention for the Sonic Mania Adventures holiday episode which i also adored to pieces). Not to mention the amazing fic that is Iron Oxide, which promptly made me a metonic shipper for life. It's this combination that practically motivates me to write. And as I mentioned in the other question I answered, writing Metal is a lot of fun simply because of the endless possibilities of how to make a machine go from lifeless to alive. Bonus points for making him fall in love with the blue rat he's always trying to kill. Obsession, after all, can go a long way.

In terms of writing process... whenever I am struck by an idea or a concept, I immediately write it down. A couple of sentences, nothing more. If the idea/concept refuses to leave me alone, then I write an outline for it. I think about how the story will begin and how it will end. I then think how I can go from point A, B, C, etc, all the way until it connects to the end. Once I'm done with the outline, I look back through it and make sure that it works and that the plot makes sense. Everything has to come together because otherwise, the story will become a mess. This whole process takes me anywhere from a day to weeks. It is only until I like how the outline is structured, that I finally begin to WRITE.

As organized as I am with the outline, I don't follow it strictly. The outline is more of a guideline. It helps me stay on track, to get to the end of the fic. Sometimes, when I'm writing, the story takes a slightly different direction. Having an outline helps, because that means I can come back to it, and change little things here and there to accommodate the new stuff I brought in.

Editing process. I don't read my chapters until i finish writing it first. But once I finish a chapter, I don't read them until the next day, that way I have a fresh look at it. Honestly, I kind of wing it when it comes to editing. The only exception to this is Halves of the Same Coin, where I had an amazing beta reader (@soft-anomaly) to help me once I realize the fic was going out of control (Og plan for HotSC was initially 30k words. It ended at 75k+ words)

My general rule of thumb for chapters is 3k words, minimum. However, if the chapter has sensitive material or essential plot stuff, then I write until I'm satisfied with the results. This can end with a 7k word chapter. That's what I did with HotSC. Beginnings of an End is different. It's not as plot heavy as HotSC, hence the shorter chapters. Shorter chapters also mean faster updates.

Posting fics. I like to post fics at night for one reason only. I'm too anxious and nervous by how it will be received 🥲 I'm not perfect, sometimes I'm self conscious about what I write because then I think what if no one likes it?? it's why I sleep it off 😅 these fears are always gone in the morning tho, when I look at the comments and kudos ^-^

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 299: A Monday After, p1

What the…where am I? I thought, slowly sitting up on my kitchen table and gazing up at the ceiling, And what the hell is that?

I’d fallen asleep, apparently, on the kitchen table. Well, passed out is more like it. What time was it? It was morning? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was naked underneath the thin blanket Melissa had obviously put over me, my cock hurt and the room smelled like paint. 

And now there was some of it on the ceiling.

What did she do? I marveled, lamenting at the fact that now I’d somehow have to paint my ceiling too but also, I must admit, smiling like a love-struck kid at the gesture. She’d painted a huge ‘I love you!!!’ above where I’d slept, meaning for me to see it first thing when I woke. I found myself grinning, despite myself.  No one had ever done anything nearly as romantic as this for me before and it made me a little giddy. She’s a nut. No, actually, she may be crazy. Like, really. She could have - as unconscious as I was - carried me into bed. But no she left me sleeping on my kitchen table and somehow got that painted right above me, in ‘Twilight Blush’. Plus there was the whole wanting to be bigger and able to toss me around like a rag doll thing too which should have made me nervous since the woman was apparently some sort of superwoman. But…jeez…this is too cute. 

She said she loved me. 

I mean…yesterday was pathological, I thought, We each have something wrong with us, and together it’s…yikes. That was crazy. I mean, I’ve known I’m a bit strange in my tastes, kinks, fixations. I’ve known that for decades. Plus, I was physically changing, losing weight, and wasn’t nearly as concerned as I should have been. But she, Melissa too? She had said she was in some sort of ‘growth spurt’, and I knew girls everywhere were into this ‘vulni-chic’ thing - being bigger than your partner was the trend - but I always figured it was some sort of fad. The stuff Melissa was saying yesterday, though, and the things she got me to admit? This is going to be deeper and weirder than I may be able to handle. What would it mean for us, for me, I wondered, if I let this continue?

Wow what time is it?

But she said she loved me!

Okay okay okay. Yes I had to consider the possibility that she might have been a little mentally imbalanced, or a lot. And she’d been evasive, since we met, about her past. I kinda sorta thought there was some trauma there and I was going to hope that, as we got more comfortable around one another, she’d open up and share. I knew for myself there were things about my own past, my family, my childhood that I hadn’t shared yet, either. We were maybe not at that point in our relationship, where we could be totally honest with one another, but I could see that changing, already. But - is it somewhere I feel comfortable going? I fretted, Is a deeper connection something I want to pursue with a girl like Melissa. I mean…we’re so different. She’s - I forget - ten, fifteen years my junior? Little-to-no education. Horrible speller. But, does that matter, if we’re…in love?

But - was I in love with her, the way she said she was in love with me? I, for sure, had strong feelings - but were they love? I was…obsessed, yes. Fixated, for sure. Furtively worshipful? Maybe. But she honestly made me feel…like no one else ever had before. Yes she was built like a wet dream but also she was so warm and earnest with me, accepting of (and maybe, I admit, even encouraging of) my weaknesses. Sheryl was never like that; no one’s ever been like that, and it felt, now…nice. Is this love? Maybe? I wondered, Or maybe the early beginnings of it? 

Yikes it’s a Monday. I have early patients today. I hope it’s not eight o’clock yet.

I looked at myself, now that I’d sat up on the kitchen table, feet dangling off the end, in the mirror on the back of the door. The same mirror in front of which Melissa and I had posed yesterday, comparing our insanely disparate sizes. I immediately felt a pang that I recognized…I felt the aching absence of her. But also, looking at my reflection, my sunken chest, my pipe-cleaner arms, I felt the shock of how small I appeared, I felt a rush of shame. This is what she likes? I puzzled, I’m so…puny. Puny everywhere except…

I pulled the thin blanket, which had been laying across my lap, away from myself. 

I’m not, I said to myself, as I looked at the cock hanging between my legs, shadowed aside my thigh, I’m not all little. In my own way, in fact, I’m big. I watched as if, with the sudden attention, blood had started to engorge my manhood, causing it to stir. I may be small now, a short man. I may barely stand as tall as her chest, I was telling myself as my cock began to rise off the table, but at least I have this. It’s big, and she likes it. 

I marveled at it, at myself, as the thing slowly rose up, like a schooner’s mast, past my belly. Rather than the concern or chagrin I usually felt in facing it, beefy and hearty in contrast to my skinny frame, I instead felt a surge of pride. I watched it, thickening still, realizing that blood was draining from the rest of me to feed its growth. Melissa likes it big, I reminded myself, hardness surging as I recalled the husky timbre that came to her voice when she addressed it, or the flash in her eyes when she watched it swell for her. I was, here, restoring some of my fleeting male ego, gaining pride from my cock. She likes my erection, she likes my come. She licked it off me, she slurped it from her hand, I advanced, and I can make so much for her. 

I should really check my phone, the time…

With one hand I reached for it, left for me on the table, and with the other I grabbed my shaft. 

There’s some pictures of her on here…

It was then that I saw the text from Melissa:  “Good morning hun 😊 Marisela and Randi and me won’t be in the office til later. There helping me at a photo shoot for new offises.” 

“Huh, okay,” I said, nodding to myself and acknowledging that little sense of disappointment: I was going to miss her. But if I was going to have to struggle to put her out of my mind for a few hours, looking at a few photos of her here might help….

But anyway, I should first check the time…

…ten-thirty!?! Holy crap!

===========================================

Patreon, mine.

[cryptic-underground]

I am currently buzzing too much to sleep because I started actually watching LMK, I hadn't until this moment, and guys. I'm obsessed! Somehow, even more than when I was scrapping the interwebs for content.

I'm too buzzed to sit still enough to finish watching the season I'm on, I'm a little over halfway on s1 shut up, but Y'ALL I am sick with these little Legos! Like- this show is so fucking endearing and funny. The amount of giggling I did in the first couple of episodes alone, guys. I am very aware of where this show is going from previously surviving off media osmosis, and I am subsequently very afraid about what it will do to me now that I will have the build-up and DRAMA, but I'm looking forward to fully immersing my enjoyment in it!

Two things so far that aren't spoiler-y but things I was surprised I enjoyed or got more serotonin out of than what could be said is necessary.

Jin and Yin(and everyone's Aussie accents inturn)

These guys are such silly goobers, I will squish their cheeks, your honour. They suck kinda hard at being villains, but they're still so very endearing. Upon hearing them speaking, I immediately was hooking. Personally, I am a big fan of accents and how the voice actors in this episode did them were heaven. Part of me was kinda rooting for the twins to break out of character more often just so I could hear the accent again, didn't happen as much as my ears wanted but I don't hold any grip with the showrunners for it. Made a lot more sense the way they did it anyway, plus I got more of my fill in the race episode.

Spider Queen

I was pleasantly surprised at how giddy I was while watching this episode, not only for the fact that I'm terrified of spiders. When I had first stumbled across this character, it immediately struck my alarms for a type of character that really makes me uncommon; the overall flirty and forward type where they're really touchy. But she wasn't like that at all! I actually really like her. They threaded the line nice where she didn't come off the wrong way. She came more off as a really flirty southern belle, which instantly thought of lemonade and forgot she was a spider. Apart from her spider legs?? Mobality tool?? The thing she uses, I enjoyed when she was on screen. Still terrified of spiders, though heh.

I've already noticed some parallel scene moments that I personally haven't scene people bring attention to. This show does it a lot. Maybe I'll post about it once I've watched more. Who knows, not me.

[hangonimevolving]

Spring 2024: It was a time of activity, it was a time of illness… but ultimately, a time of achievements.

So now, we find ourselves in early 2024. Vev’s 11th bday was more or less a non-event (at his own request) — except for us getting goofy and decorating our house with some salvaged decorations that he shamelessly stole after a work event. They were too perfect for Vev—- Pan Am theme!

(It occurs to me that I didn’t post anything about Dey’s 9th birthday, which was in December 2023. Oops, sorry Dey. Here, let me find a picture. We did celebrate it…somehow 😂)

Ok look - we DID do something. The reason I don’t remember is bc he pretty much tore into those Lego sets and was engrossed in building the entire day. Anyway.

Back to Feb 2024 and onward. The kids had a random half-day of school, and so happened that Dr. Spouse was asked by a local news affiliate to film a news segment on brain health - so I decided to take the kids down to the hospital and get a hands-on lesson on both healthcare and journalism. It was a fun and exciting little field trip!

Somewhere around this time, the kids had their respective Field Days at school. I was room parent for Vev’s room last year along with another friend, so I was heavily involved in organizing his class’ Field Day stuff - but I was on site and cheering for both kids, as was daddice for as much as he could manage.

March rolled in, and alas - minor disaster struck. Vev came down with what we thought was a cold… then he got a fever…and then, he was just very, very sick with flu-like symptoms including HIGH 104+ fevers, severe coughing and respiratory congestion, loss of appetite, and overall misery… for TWO WEEKS STRAIGHT. He missed 10 consecutive days of school and was just miserable for weeks - and we were too. Poor kiddo. I was juggling taking care of Dey, keeping him healthy and getting him off to/from school, along with nursing Vev, escorting him to (nightmarish and fury-inducing) pediatrician appointments (long story), sleeping in his room at night to help him get comfortable, overseeing round the clock meds and nebulizer treatments, and being a go-between for him, his teacher, and the school principal to keep him up to date on work. It was a LOT.

Thankfully, spring break immediately followed his two-week confinement, which gave him more time to recuperate - and even gave us a short getaway to Clearwater Beach for a few days once he was really feeling better.

Soon, it was April, then May. We were busy with lots of activities, including numerous Speech and Debate tournaments, and some medals won! I enjoyed volunteering as a judge for these tournaments. We also took a drive down to Ft. Lauderdale to see one of Vev’s drawings from Art class at school that was featured in a local art show for public school kids.

We had some other ups and downs in this time. Both cars were due for vet checkups….. always a time of hijinks and nerves (more for me than the cats). Pixel in particular had some adventures this year - due to her outstanding behavior 🤪 the vet prescribed her some gabapentin to “help her relax” during her physical exam. She was high as a kite.

An era came to an end. On May 5th, Dr. Spouse’s trusty 2014 Tesla Model S died a sudden and very peaceful (almost suspiciously peaceful) death, parked at the front of the kids’ Kumon center. Though the reality was hard to accept, we soon came to terms that we’d have to trade it in and lease a new car. So we all went to bid a final adieu to Red Flyer, aka “Lightning McQueen,” and welcome home Red Flyer 2.

Then, it was JUNE! And the end of the school year.was upon us. We were VERY proud of Dey for an awesome year at school, and of Vev for completing 5th grade, which in our community is a mini-graduation, as the kids head off to a whole new middle school in the fall!

So! This takes us to June 2024, and the end of the school year. Up next will be a synopsis of Summer 2024, which entailed some exciting travel, a bevy of summer camp adventures, and more. One final thought here - maybe it’s my paranoid mom brain, but I feel like this was a Vev-focused post, and I am concerned it looks like I don’t pay as much attention to Dey. But that couldn’t be further from the truth! Dey is everything, everywhere, all over at once - and even if one wanted to ignore him (which I don’t!) it would be impossible, bc he is a total cartoon, and keeps us laughing nonstop 😜 So I’ll make sure to bump up the Dey content in the next post!