#was this all started on a whim a 1am

[cupidskissx]

Breathlessly Devoted🌷

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Max Verstappen

Word count: 1,179

Chapters: 1/1

Warnings: Sexual Content, Light Choking, Getting Caught

Summary:

They didn’t do this so openly, so publicly, it’s something that remained hidden away in dark hotel rooms. But Charles couldn’t deny him, not now, not today, not when he needed it the most.

Sometimes newly re-crowned champions need a helping hand, or two.

Read on Ao3

Author's Note:

I wrote this fic back in May and posted it here (original fic). It had been inspired by this outstanding artwork by @lihuiantipyretic!

In honour of Max winning his third WDC I thought I’d commemorate, creative liberties are still at play.

I hope you enjoy (and if you happen to read this a second time, thank you)!

[pandorascripts]

unknowingly yours

warnings: dark themes, stalking, possessiveness, obsession, gore, murder, biting, jealousy, and im probably forgetting something too. (you’re responsible for ur own media consumption buddy)

pairing: dark!wednesday addams x vampire!fem!reader

(all characters aged up to 18)

notes: this was written on a whim at like 1am, and I’ve just now completed it. it’s kinda rushed and half-assed. enjoy :)

————

Gomez had tried to warn his daughter what it meant to be an Addams. What it meant to be so deeply in love with someone, that’d you do anything for them. You’d murder, abandon your morales, just to get one more taste of them. Wednesday had repeatedly shoved him off, claiming it would never happen, but it did. The moment Wednesday laid eyes on you, she could feel the obsession turning dark, horrific. She reveled in it. 

Wednesday loved the thrill of sneaking into your dorm, watching you whilst slept. She loved sitting in the back of her class, watching you do anything and everything. Every time your shoulders raised, taking a breath, Wednesday could praise you for it. She never understood what her father meant, until people got too touchy. After countless victims, it Yoko became the newest.

Wednesday sat in the back of the cafeteria, watching you chat with your friends. Yoko slung her arm over you shoulder, and Wednesday felt the can in her hand crack. She tried calming breaths, something her father taught her. They didn’t work. She shook with rage, the can splitting in half with her might and slicing her palm clean. She didn’t care though, all that mattered now was Yoko, who was now leaning into your ear, whispering something.

 Wednesday took in another shaky breath, how dare she touch what was hers. Wednesday decided she would show that vampire not to mess with her territory, and you, you were in trouble. You were hers, and it’s just about time you started acting like it. 

She watched with rapt attention as you leaned back, giggling. You lightly slapped Yoko on the shoulder, blushing deeply and scolding her. Wednesday stood up, food untouched, and walked over to your table. 

She bumped into the wood, her tray flying upwards and landing in Yoko’s lap. 

“The hell, dude?” Yoko yelled, her hands in the air, away from the mess. 

You rushed into action, picking up bits of food with a napkin. 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, Yoko. Calm down.”

Wednesday stared at you. Oh, you were so kind, beautifully unaware, and completely vulnerable. Wednesday filled with glee at the mere thought of ruining you. 

“Yes, precisely.” Wednesday nodded to you, her eyes never leaving yours. 

You smiled at her. “See you in botany, Wednesday?”

She nodded stiffly once again, her insides doing summersaults. You were so sweet, deliciously so. Wednesday walked away, her tray still on Yoko’s lap. That bloodsucker could deal with it, after all, it was only part of Wednesday’s much needed apology. She’d get the rest tonight, when Yoko was begging her for mercy. Her lips nearly twitched at the thought. 

Wednesday walked back up to her dorm, still having fifteen minutes until botany with you. She set her bag down on her dark bed, the empty side of the room creaking. She was so pleased she didn’t have a roommate, that’d make this next part harder. Wednesday leaned under her bed, pulling out a huge poster board. She raced back to the door, double checking its lock, and set it up. 

Her fingers traced over the red strings and pins delicately, stopping at a photo of you. You were laying down, enjoying the sun, your eyes closed and wearing your uniform. She remembered that day like yesterday, it was the first time you’d two had spoken. She only fell deeper. 

Wednesday strolled down to the lake, watching as the lily pads drifted slowly. Canoes splashed across the water, people yelling and cheering. 

“Hey! You mind if I sit here?”

Wednesday looked up, ready to dismember who ever decided to ruin her quiet. Her eyes laid on yours and, oh, Wednesday could’ve fainted. You were beautiful, an ethereal smile plastered on your face, eyes deep and true. It only solidified Wednesday’s desire for you. 

“No, not at all.”

Wednesday scooted to the left, offering you more room against the tree. 

You muttered a thank you. 

“So, why are you all out here alone?”

Wednesday sighed, your voice was so pleasing, and it was bending her to your will even more so. 

“I’ve decided to observe the Poe Cup. Thought it’d be amusing when they sink and fall. What about you, bellissima?

The Italian caught you by surprise, you were rusty, not really remembering most of it, so you shoved the nickname aside. 

“Figured I’d get away from all the yelling. It’s more peaceful down here. I’m glad you’ve found my spot though.”

“Your spot?” Wednesday questioned, her hands itching to hold yours and never let it go. 

“Yes, it’s been mine for a bit. Glad to share it though, been getting a bit lonely.”

Wednesday felt the Italian bubbling up, her father warned her about this too. She’d want to call you names, anything to give you a temporary mark as hers. She swallowed it though, choosing to instead ask you question with no flirtation. 

“Lonely? You don’t have someone?”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Wednesday wished she could’ve done it for you, she truly believed it was a crime that you’d do it yourself. A goddess like you shouldn’t waste precious time. 

“No— I— No, I don’t. You?”

Wednesday shook her head. “I’ll have them soon.” 

You smiled. “Do I know them?”

“You’re very familiar.”

You chuckled again. “What are they like?”

“They’re beautiful, out of the world so, and they make me crazy.”

You cracked a huge smile. “That’s cute. Sounds like you adore them.”

“Più di quanto tu possa sapere, mia amata.”

“I’m afraid my Italians a bit rusty. What’d you say?”

“Nothing of importance. No need to fret.”

Wednesday sighed. She traced her board again, documents and other people plastered up on there. Gently, she flipped it over, the backside littered with more photos. Everyone who was a threat. 

She traced the X’s over their eyes, a wicked smile covering her face. Wednesday uncapped a red sharpie, drawing slow, deep X’s over Yoko’s eyes.

“Non ci disturberà più, amore mio,” she sighed. 

Wednesday ordered Thing to put the board back under again. She marched off to her drawer, unlocking a secret section. Carefully, she pulled it out. 

“Which one, Thing? The mace, my machete? Or should we do it in style? After all, we are aiming to impress her.”

Her fingers grazed over her arsenal of weapons. 

“Let’s go old fashioned, hm?” She asked, pulling out a wooden stake. “Yoko’s barely even a threat.”

Wednesday set the oak down on her bed, taking out garlic spray before locking it back up. She slipped on a black pair of medical gloves, releasing them so they smacked painfully against her skin. Wednesday sighed in contempt. 

“Thing, put on a glove. Nevermore’s already worried about their students. They keep disappearing don’t they?”

He tapped in agreement. 

“What. A. Pity.”

She waited until dark, skipping her class, deciding to get more items like flashlights and garlic bombs to neutralize Yoko. Wednesday knew you wouldn’t be there, she always knew what you were doing. The psychic flipped open her pocket watch. 

Two A.M, perfect time to strike. 

Wednesday crept out of Ophelia Hall, traveling in the shadows until she reached Persephone’s Wing. Crouching down under room two-hundred and forty-three, Wednesday pulled the pin on the garlic grenade and rolled it under the door. It exploded silently, a jagged choking noise filling the room. Wednesday tossed another one, slipping out her crowbar and cracking the door open. 

The anger from earlier surged through her as Wednesday marched inwards, she closed the door behind her. Knowing the lock was broken, she slid Yoko’s desk against the wooden frame. 

Yoko choked out pleas, desperate to justify herself for an unknown crime. Wednesday looked up, inhaling deeply as she soaked in Yoko’s cries. The vampire continued crying, bloody tears streaking down her face as she choked. 

Wednesday looked to her. Oh, it was exquisite. Yoko’s skin was burned and sores opened up, her neck straining for air, only to be poisoned a second later. 

“Useless, bloodsucker,” Wednesday spat, stomping on Yoko’s stomach. A sharp crack echoed and Wednesday was delighted to hear a rib brake. 

She crouched drown, driving the stake a mere inch from Yoko’s heart. 

“You do not touch what is mine,” she spat again, her stake driving into her repeatedly, missing by an inch. 

“I don’t—“ Yoko gasped, hoping to save herself. 

“LIAR!” Wednesday shouted, diving the stake into her stomach and twisting it. 

Blood gurgled out of Yoko’s mouth, her back arching upwards. 

Wednesday leaned down into Yoko’s ear, stabbing her once again near her heart. 

“She is mine. You are beneath her.” Pure venom erupted from Wednesday. 

She cracked the stake up, driving it into Yoko’s heart. Wednesday panted, leaning back on her knees. She watched with glee as Yoko’s body disintegrated, burning into ash. At least vampires were easy to kill. 

Wednesday picked up her stake. Tilting her neck to the left, she heard it pop and repeated the action. 

“Thing, get the broom.”

Thing shuffled forward, the tall broom too much for him. Wednesday took it, sweeping the vampire remains.

“Nothing like a good murder, hm, Thing?”

He tapped, some ash flying up. 

“Get out of her, I don’t wish for you to smell like garlic and cheap perfume.”

She tossed the bloody gloves into the trash bag, and replaced them with a new set. Wednesday set the broom down, pulling a record player out of her bag. She gently set it aside, shuffling through her travel collection until she reached Debussy: Cello Sonata in D Minor. She put the record on, breathing in heavily as it rang through her ears. 

Wednesday held the garbage bag, filling it with Yoko’s ashes. She wiped her sweaty forehead, dust sticking to it. 

“Thing, clean up the rest.”

She walked away, browsing the vampire’s trinkets. Wednesday paced to her jewelry box, flicking through the accessories. She gasped, a beautiful black skull ring, sat buried under hideous silver and gold necklaces. Wednesday gently pulled it out, holding it in her fingers. 

Now this would make a lovely gift for you. See, Wednesday had a ritual, she’d kill your suitors, fake their leave and give you a gift from their collections. You’d yet to notice, considering all the beautiful gifts she gave were deemed ugly by the owner. For Rowan, she gave you a blood red ring, he probably received it from a family member, for Davina, it was a simple black hair clip. The others were less important, but she remembered them nonetheless. Whether it was a pining fool from across the room, or someone that had written you a love letter, only to scrap it moments later, Wednesday wouldn’t stand for that. The only person you should be with, is her, she was the only one who could treat you right. No one else understood you the way she did. Wednesday wasn’t going to let people stop her from achieving you. 

Her next plan was set in action when you knocked on the door.

“Yoko, I thought we talked about this. I don’t gotta key, you cant lock the door,” you whined. “I’m so tired, please let me in.”

Wednesday frowned. Were there nights she didn’t let you in? She stood behind the door, opening it. 

You walked through, glancing at Yoko’s bed. 

“Yoko?” You called out, shuffling forward. You took note of the odd cello music. Classical was definitely not one of Yoko’s genres. 

You closed the door, and Wednesday smashed a grenade in your face. Unfortunately, you weren’t like other vampires. Garlic wouldn’t affect you, but she knew vervain would.

You hissed, eyes burning. “Who’s there?” You cried out, the pain only getting worse. You tumbled down to the floor. 

Wednesday crouched down to your level, cupping your jaw. You breathed heavily, still not understanding what was happening. 

“Non mi diverto nel tuo dolore. Mi dispiace molto, ma deve essere fatto, amore mio,” Wednesday whispered. 

You whimpered, only one person spoke to you in Italian. 

“What did you do with Yoko?” You cried, rejecting her hand. 

Wednesday seethed. She knew you’d be upset, but couldn’t you see? This was for you. All of it. 

“I killed that useless bimbo. I had to.”

A sob racked through you, your eyes still clamped shut. You scrambled back again, hitting Yoko’s bed.

“You didn’t have to,” you cried, hugging your knees. 

Wednesday walked over to you. She lifted your head up, wincing at the damage. Your eyes were bright red, bubbling and oozing. 

“Mio cuore,” Wednesday whispered. She straightened your legs, sitting down on your thighs. Gently, she brushed back your hair, trying to remove it from your tear-soaked cheeks. 

You continued crying, wishing she’d just go away, but she wouldn’t. You hated yourself because in some twisted, screwed up way, Wednesdays sweet nothings calmed you down. She was a murderer, she killed Yoko ruthlessly, and vervained you, so why did you feel for her? 

“La mia amata, this is going to cause you pain, okay? It’s going to be alright though.”

Wednesday kissed your forehead, raking her hand through your hair. Then, her hand pulled back and tied something around your wrist. 

You screamed out in pain, only to be muffled. She had restrained your hands with vervain-soaked cloth, and tied another one around your mouth.

Your eyes darted open and you lurched forward. The restraints burned your mouth and wrists. Wednesday cupped your face again, placing delicate kisses on your head. 

She shushed you softly, one of her hands supporting your neck as you sobbed. Your breathing became labored and you could only focus on the pain. Your hands felt numb, wrists burning and screaming for release.

Every breath you took scorched your nose and seared your tongue. Your eyes clamped shut, the tears only increasing.

Wednesday hushed you once again, asking you questions. They all just faded away, the pain drowning them out. She leaned in close to your ear. 

“It’s okay. Breathe.” 

You followed her instructions, her words grounding you. The pain trickled into the background, and you let her voice guide you. 

“Good girl,” she husked out. 

You took in another breath with her, shaking. 

“That’s it.” 

Your eyes flickered open, meeting her dark face. You wondered how she could see when the lights were off, but you shoved that aside. You focused on her touch, her breaths, her weight on your thighs. You breathed in deeply again.

“I don’t want to tie up your legs.”

You stiffened, the last thing you wanted right now was more vervain coursing through your veins. Wednesday quickly hushed you. 

“I’m not going to, but you must promise me something.”

You nodded.

“Do not, under any circumstance, run away from me. I’ve waited too long for this moment.” Her voice faded into a whisper as her sentence closed, and you shivered. 

“Do you agree to my terms?”

You nodded your head. 

“Good,” she whispered. 

Slowly Wednesday got off you. The cold enveloped you, and you greedily missed her warmth. You were sick, you thought. This psycho murdered your friend, and here you were, pining. Disgusting. 

You breathed in again, the vervain killing you every time. 

You were too wrapped up in your head, that you hadn’t even notice Wednesday packing up some of your belongings. 

Your eyes darted around the room, her dark figuring jumping all over the place. You wanted to ask her what she was doing, but the sizzling in your mouth wasn’t worth it. 

You breathed in shakily, gaining courage. You chomped downwards, your hands spreading apart, and an involuntary scream racked through you. Wednesday rushed over to you, trying to figure out what you were doing. You clamped your mouth down again, and tried to pull the restraints off. 

“Hey! No, no, no,” she yelled. 

There wasn’t anything Wednesday could do though, she watched as you dropped down. You made yourself pass out from the pain, all so you wouldn’t experience this. Wednesday sighed in annoyance.

She cracked the door open, checking the halls. After seeing no one, she walked back over to you. Wednesday grunted as she picked you up, slinging you over her shoulder. She hated doing this, bodies were so heavy and always a pain to carry. Wednesday decided that she’d get the rest of her stuff later, you were more important. 

Wednesday walked back to her dorm, ducking behind pillars and walls when voices were near. She sighed in relief, placing you on her bed. Wednesday carefully undid your binds, tying them to her bedpost so you couldn’t run. She flinched as the sizzle from your skin filled the silent room. 

Wednesday walked back to Yoko’s room, picking up your stash of belongings that she’d packed for you, returning the room as it was. She packed up her other duffel bag, making sure not forget her record player, and walked out. Thing trailed after her. 

“Lurch has been notified to pick us up?”

Thing tapped. 

“He needs to get her before five. No exceptions.”

He tapped again.

“I don’t care about weather, Thing. He will get here, or he’ll go back in the grave where we discovered him.”

Thing scampered off, racing in front of her. 

She reached her dorm once again and let out a breath of relief. Her bags were all packed, no sign of her existence anywhere. Thing did a good job for once. 

Wednesday flicked out her pocket watch, checking the time. 

3:16, the whole ordeal had lasted roughly an hour. Wednesday frowned, her new lowest not at all pleasing. She walked over to you, kissing you on the forehead softly. Wednesday untied your mouth piece and hoisted you against the head board. 

She unsheathed her pocket knife from her boot and flicked it open. Wednesday shrugged off her plastic gloves, drawing blood over the wound she’d gotten previously. It opened easily, barely even closed, and rubbed it against your lips. The scent of blood had you drooling, waking you up instantly. You growled, looking possessed, and took her hand into your mouth. You fought against your restraints, trying to grab her hand for more. You removed your fangs out of her for a moment, trying to lick them off, and Wednesday retracted her hand. She waived it around, watching as you desperately nipped at it. The veins under your eyes turned a deep purple, blood smeared over your mouth. Your shoulders shook as you pulled at the restraints, trying to get free. The headboard would’ve been completely shattered by now if not for the dose of vervain you’d been hit with. As Wednesday observed your behavior, she realized something, you were a ripper. She moved her hand closer, watching as you shot forward and chomped down. Oh, this was glorious. 

The perfect, sweet, charming goodie-two-shoes, was a killer beast. Wednesday knew she had to be careful with you, but an apart of her desperately wanted to ripped to shreds by your pointy fangs.

Wednesday got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. Your groans and snarls were music to her ears as she poked her skin, drawing more blood to taunt you. She cleaned up her hand, wrapping it in bandage. Wednesday took out a small vial and downed it, grimacing at the taste afterwards. That was for the compulsion. She shook, the taste alone not pleasing. Wednesday would usually hide it in her coffee, the flavor weighing it out, but she was running out of time. 

Thing scampered into the bathroom. 

“He’s here? See, it wasn’t too difficult was it?”

Thing tapped. 

“Keep your distance, she’s hungry. Unfortunately for you, you can’t afford to have a chunk missing.” 

He shivered, scampering off to meet Lurch. 

Wednesday walked back up to you. You were crying once again, whimpering against the headboard. Wednesday went to wipe your tears, her red bandage nearing you. Your expression flipped like a dime, immediately going to ripper mode with the drug-like scent overwhelming you. Wednesday whipped her hand back. 

She was quite curious. You’d been around blood before, whether it was other vampires drinking it, or some kid piercing his skin, you’d never had a problem. So why was it one with her? 

“You need to behave,” Wednesday sighed out. 

You snarled, bloody fangs flashing out at her. 

“I will vervain you. This is your only warning,” she sneered. 

You hissed once again, slumping backwards in defeat. 

Wednesday slowly raised her hand, watching as you shivered with restraint. Your jaw clamped, eyes stuck on red. Your fangs pierced through your gums, and you bit into your own mouth to prevent yourself. Wednesday slowly untied your restrains, quickly tying them behind your back, and shoved you off the bed. She leaned into your ear. 

“I stole your daylight ring whilst you slept. Thing has it now. Your only chance is to come with me, willingly, without causing problems. Do you understand? I willfry you.”

You shuddered, nodding hastily. Wednesday kissed the side of your neck and pushed you forward. The vervain burned your skin, but you trudged through it. You didn’t dare make a sound as you walked, the occasional wince was muffled by biting into your tongue. 

Wednesday whispered praises into your ear as you walked down, your bags already taken care of. 

Wednesday knew this facade had to look real, her parents were under the impression that you’d been dating for awhile. She informed you of this, walking down a flight of stairs. 

“Do not say one word to them, Lurch, or any authorities, understood? Don’t worry about your daylight ring, we only do activities during the night. You’ll fit right in.”

Wednesday undid your restraints, and you gingerly rubbed at them. She raised her hand up to your face, and you looked in surprise at her. 

“My bloods laced with vervain, so you’ll be unable to compel, and vulnerable. It’ll keep you in control, and your ripper side should despise it,” she explained.

You nodded, holding her arm. Shakily, you raised it against your mouth. You fangs ripped through her flesh, and you sighed in relief. Her blood was intoxicating if you ignored the sting of vervain, and your ripper side was going feral. The thought of you biting her neck, her shoulders, anywhere on her had you biting harder. You shook the thoughts from your mind, abruptly tearing her wrist away. You turned your back to her, blinking rapidly and heaving.

“Let me see you,” she whispered. 

You shook your head. Getting wrapped up in your thoughts, you began to spiral, your victims faces flashing in your memories. You curled your hand into a fist, hitting the side of you head hard, trying to get them out. Wednesday’s hands shot up, stopping your hand from striking once again.

You clenched your eyes shut, panicking. Wednesday’s cold hands wrapped around your face, squeezing slightly as she wiped some fallen tears. The pressure lassoed you back to reality, your thoughts swimming into the dark basement of your mind. 

Wednesday lowered your head, choosing to place it on her chest. Her loud heartbeat filled your ears, and your breathing settled. You inhaled deeply, shakily releasing it. 

Her hands slowly started scratching the base of your neck, and she hummed quietly.

You focused on her heart again, hearing it pump steadily. Your ears picked up other noises too, her digestive system slowly working, the acid in her stomach bubbling slightly, and the blood coursing through her veins. The blood moving slowly drowned out her heartbeat, the image of you biting into her jugular filled your thoughts. Your fangs pierced out again, your eyes going darker. Clearing your throat hastily, you blinked rapidly. The whiff of lavender reeled you back to her, Wednesday’s presence returning. You sighed out heavily, leaning most of your weight on Wednesday. 

God, you were so tired. Sometimes the thought of staking yourself seemed better than this, but you knew you couldn’t. You wouldn’t give up. Not until you’d served your sentence. 

“Are you ready to go out to the car?” Wednesday quietly asked. You wouldn’t have picked it up if your senses weren’t heightened.

You nodded slowly, raising your head away from her. You gulped, not meeting her eyes. Wednesday may have been a murderous psycho, but you were a cold hearted ripper. It was hypocritical of you to judge her, especially since Wednesday’s never ripped off a head before. Wallowing in self-loathing, you walked of Nevermore’s doors hand in hand with Wednesday.

[thatwildnya]

venti when griffin wifey disappears to nest

The anemo archon is freaking out after his wife has suddenly vanished without a trace. After hours of searching with the help of the Favonius Knights and Diluc he discovers she has made a nest in Dvalin's home to lay a clutch of eggs.

TW: none

notes: the format this is written in what we've named a headcanon drabble mix. it will start with hcs and have a drabble at the end or multiple sprinkled throughout it. these will be tagged as headcanon drabble mix, hc drabble mix, or [fandom]hcdm.

chitters and nickers

Wild: I've started playing genshin recently and it's been on my mind a lot. Decided to write somethin' on a whim. Might make more with the same prompt if this one gets a lot of attention.

nya: i wanna squish venti's cheeks

wifey's bird cat mix

european wildcat, white dove, 7 eggs

very likely this was not planned, Venti’s alcoholic tendencies often cause him to forget protection so it was only a matter of time it caught up to him

unexpected pregnancies with female griffins can be absolutely heart attack inducing due to their instincts kicking in immediately once their body realizes what’s happening. bird brains go into maximum overdrive and once it decides where it wants to nest they’re making a beeline to claim said spot and going builder mode asap.

so imagine the archon’s panic when you’re nowhere to be found after being sick and acting weird all week. poor guy is zooming all over the city alongside the knights and Diluc to find you. once he’s combed through the city he uses his godly powers to call for Dvalin’s assistance. but there’s no answer.

Equation: wifey acting odd + wifey missing + dragon friend not responding. Conclusion: something very bad happened. Solution: it is time to panic at the anemo.

shouts at some random pedestrian passing by to gather the knights and meet him at the lair. unfortunately he mistook the stranger as a knight them self due to wearing similar clothes. and on top of that this person was a foreigner. but he’s gone before the misunderstanding can be cleared. now hubby is thought to be missing. what an eventful day for Mondstadt.

creates a crater when he lands outside his friends home. said friend sticks his head out from the crumbling tower with blurry eyes. what was all this racket for? this is the second time he’s been so rudely awoken today! bro already lost hours of sleep from his wife barging in at 1AM to nest and lay eggs. wifey did what now.

the dragon’s grumpiness dissolves once the situation has been cleared. in fact he was laughing in the end. the image of a large number of humans scurrying around in search of a god’s wife thinking the worst when in actuality she’s enjoying baby time in arguably the safest place in the nation is hilarious!

but that’s not important right now you laid eggies sired by him he’s gonna be a dad! this twink of a god can’t contain his excitement. how many did you lay? when will they hatch? how big are they? have they developed enough to be able to hear his voice? can he hold them? too bad you can’t answer, doves can’t mimic sounds and you aren’t reverting back to human for a while.

has no problem with you nesting in Dvalin’s home. in fact he’s all for it. very few humans and monsters dare to intrude on the territory of the anemo dragon once called Storm Terror. no worries here! so long you had no issues he’d stand by your decision, y’know what they say, a mother knows best!

you are never left alone Venti makes sure there’s always one person he trusts to watch over you and your growing kids. if he could he’d be right there in the nest with his family 24/7. the issue is, however, that you’re the breadwinner of the family. and griffin moms to be won’t leave the eggs alone until they’ve hatched. not for food, water, nothing. avian feline mom’s have wills of steel.

it isn’t long before Venti realizes the problem. kids are not cheap to raise. (especially in this economy) so for the first time in history, the anemo archon begins the treacherous and traumatizing journey of job hunting. it was a grueling quest, one of hardships and difficulty like no other. his confidence and ego took many serious blows, wounds inflicted upon them so deep it was feared he might never recover. there were plenty of times he almost gave up, but he persevered! his family was counting on him, he couldn’t give up. and with the power of love and friendship, he was able to slay- jk he just became a part time knight and takes on quick jobs spread across his nation.

this is quite the change to his usual routine but it’s all worth it. every time he returns to his recently grown family is all the motivation he needs. can’t wait for the day he’ll be greeted by a chorus of chirps after a long day of work.

when he isn’t working he’s always near the nest, if he isn’t in it. and more likely than not he’s by a fire cooking up something for you to eat. he’s glad you’ll eat if food is in reach. man’s on his way to becoming a 5 star chef with how much he’s expanding his culinary skills.

when is baby time? it’s always baby time in this house. and everyone is invited to baby time. can’t help but squeal internally whenever you get excited at visitors. leaving the nest just to gently tug them over so they could see the eggs will always be the cutest thing you’ll do to him. how can he not smile when your feathered face shines with pride everytime you present his kids?

finally, the day comes. he’s in the middle of aiding Diluc unload supplies for Angel’s Share when the Mondstadt citizens are given a heart attack by Dvalin suddenly swooping overhead shouting for him to get his butt back to you. get ready folks, it’s time for round 2 of panic at the anemo!

adding a new crater in Dvalin's lawn he runs to your side with heaving lungs all winded and worried. but you seem completely fine? and so do the babies, albeit one is shivering from the chillness of the ruins and being wet having just hatched… wait a minute-

Did you really have to disappear like that? Especially since you’ve been acting strange the past week?

Your side of the bed was cold when he woke up and he thought you had already left for work. The day goes on as normal, some bard performances here, archon duties there, wine shenanigans, nothing out of the ordinary. Until your boss shows up demanding to know where you are just as he was about to take a post lunch nap.

Okay, there’s no need to panic yet. Maybe your boss forgot you weren’t supposed to be in today? Nope, it’s the middle of the week. Maybe you were late getting back from lunch? What do you mean you haven’t been in all day. Were you scheduled to work offsite? No? Okay, now it's time to panic.

He’s fearing the worst as he and the others search for you. His true identity may be a secret to most but that unfortunately wasn’t true for a certain large powerful group that had already stolen from him twice. He hopes this isn’t their doing.

Thankfully the search doesn’t last long. Once the city has been combed through he flies off to get help from Dvalin. His friend can’t help but laugh when told what was going on. That’s when it’s revealed you’ve been in his lair the whole time.

Just as the dragon said, you’ve taken residence in his lair. Showing up in the middle of the night without warning to build a nest. So that’s where all the missing clothes, blankets, and pillows went. Used as cushions for the nest you’ve built in the middle of the night. The nest, might I add, looks very comfortable. Your loafing self emits a blissful aura, wings drooping lazily at your side and talons tucked under your chest.

Doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Opts for a third option to beeline to you for a hug. But there will be no hugs for him. Dvalin manages to grab him before he can take a few steps.

“I would advise against this approach, Barbatos.” the anemo dragon warns while the archon flails in his talons whining, “less you desire a delay in meeting your offspring.”

The bard freezes at his words. Offspring? Does he mean you were…?

Venti is plopped down a few steps away from you, this time waiting for your acknowledgement before coming close. You are more than happy to have him there. Thank you Dvalin for intercepting, you’d be on guard if you’d seen your husband suddenly running full speed at you.

You raise your wings slightly, doing mini flaps as you call out to him in your beautiful avian voice with enthusiasm. You are practically vibrating in excitement as your mate comes to join you in your nest made of natural and man made materials. The same could be said for him.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!” Venti claps impatiently, ready to see the incubating life underneath your feathers. His eyes somehow manage to get even wider as you sit up. You puff up your chest feathers, head raised high with pride as you reveal the seven eggs you’d laid hours ago.

Venti’s eyes are sparkling with happy tears. Head in hands as he leans forward on his elbows, he studies his growing babies in awe. It pleased him to no end that the shells were decorated in the colors of anemo. If that didn’t scream who sired these eggs then he didn’t know what would.

Hand slightly reaching out, he had intended to wait for the okay like before. But you were offended he had the audacity to think he had to get permission to touch what he had helped to create. And you were going to make your feelings very clear.

Without warning you lunge forward. Small beak clamping on his shirt to jerk him over the edge. The bard lets out a startled yelp, face planting into your wing. Despite being a combination of smaller species of the feline and avian family, you were still quite strong.

“Ow ow ow, was that really necessary love dove?” He rubs his nose. Beak snaps are your reply, pouting at him to hurry up. Your impatience was so great he was denied the option to shake out his hat of feathers and twigs, getting robbed of his head wear. Okay he gets the memo sheesh!

The remainder of the evening is spent snuggled in the nest. Songs of humans and birds are heard late into the night, the voice of a dragon chiming in at times. Peace befalls the land of anemo.

Until it’s shattered by a frantic legion of knights still searching for their god and his wife hours later.

~ time skip yay ~

Venti sobs, clutching his bundle of joy to his chest. It had been nearly half an hour since his firstborn had entered the world yet somehow the tears kept flowing. No matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn’t halt. But could you really blame him?

“You’re going to hyperventilate at this rate. It’s a wonder you haven’t already.”

“I-I-I *sniffle* can’t h-hel- *sob* help i-it!” he hugs his firstborn closer, blurry gaze never leaving his child’s face. “Sh-she-she’s *hiccup* s-so beau- *sniffle* beautiful!” the dragon rolled his eyes. How much longer did he have to listen to his crying?

“Get a hold of yourself. Your hatchlings won’t benefit if both parents are unable to assist due to being unconscious.”

Venti gives a final sniffle before tilting his head up in an attempt to stop the tears. He blinks rapidly, steadying his breath. A quick wipe of the sleeve and it’s back to staring.

He wanted to see every little thing she did. His perfect little feathered treasure.

The hatchling had somehow managed to sleep through his whole cry fest. Cozily wrapped in a quilt and blissfully resting from her first big hurdle. Not even a day old and she had already passed the most important milestone of her life, breaking the shell that had protected her as she grew.

He quickly wiped his eyes again. He’d cried enough today.

Suddenly she yawned, beak opening wide and talons outstretching. Eyes blinking open, she looks up at her father’s puffy face. Venti smiles warmly at her, his own eyes giving her loving slow blinks. His daughter returns the gesture.

She begins to wiggle in his hold, talons reaching to grip his shirt in an attempt to pull herself closer to his face. To save his daughter the trouble he lifts her closer. He chuckles as he nuzzles her face, her curious sniffs ticking.

“Hello, little one,” he whispers quietly, planting a kiss on her forehead, “the winds welcome you into the world.”

[figula]

i actually had a really pleasant day today :)

ben was out most of the day but he got me for cuddles in the morning so a nice start

then when i got up i decided on a whim to walk into town (its nice to feel cautiously able to do this again rather than having to consider whether or not my hip will make it there)

spent a lot of money bc ive been having a shit time lately and sometimes thats what is fuckin needed

atm there's this thing in worcester where there's loads of painted penguins that you have to find + there's an app you can tick them off on - this is crack to my kind (completionists) - so i spent a decent amount of time wandering around ticking off penguins on the map, and still only did about 1/3 of them. i will probably go back in the week

played the sims, played the strangerville infection storyline which ive never palyed before despite being a sims player for years. that was really fun

ben came home + we watched some of interview w/ the vampire. me and ana have been talking about this non-stop the past few days bc i finally caught up on s2 and it (as i said on here too) it is fucking incredible tv. ben had refused to watch it on the grounds that everyone on tumblr is really annoying about it (fair) but i was like what if you watched it with your wife though. (he loves watching tv with his wife, it's a rarer thing than you might imagine bc i get bored easily sitting still on the sofa) and he was like ok :) anyway he really liked it and it was 1am before he was like "ok we better stop there" and we will probably watch more tmr lol

got another chess job ofc

had a lovely end-of-day cuddle w/ ben as well. genuinely lovely bookending cuddles

not really specific to today but im pleased that last week's madness episode wasnt so long and protracted as it has been prev (i know i talk about the no food for a week episode a lot but it was actually only 2? yrs ago and it was literally nothing like that at all this time)

i am still feeling quite emotionally depleted + something is not quite right in my mind (this is something ive felt for months not i think a hangover of last week) but like fuck it i had a really nice day today

[tobyfoxmademeascaly]

8 and 10, since i think you DO know the names of songs

8. Favorite Songs!

In no particular order:

A Long Fall - It took me months before i figured out that it shares a motif with the Syrcus Tower music. Also when I get The Twinning in roulettes it makes me lose all inhibitions and start wall-to-walling with reckless abandon.

Endwalker - Footfalls: Uses the motifs of previous expansions well, really feels like a walk down memory lane as the story enters its final lap! Also the Endwalker trailer is when they finally gave us the Leveilleur twins in glorious cg hd.

Return to Oblivion: It fucks. It fucks so hard. The lyrics are such an interesting look into Ryne’s perspective and highlights the parallels one can draw between her and Hydaelyn’s other “chosen” (Ysayle and Minfilia 1.0)

Athena, the Tireless One: just a fantastic song overall, and the culmination of the music becoming more electronic over the course of the Pandaemonium raids! Also the edit where its just the first bit of the song on repeat while Athena stares at the camera is funny.

Scream: what can I say? I love the emogoth vibes. And tragic monsters. And evil women.

10. Favorite Memories!

- Going into Aglaia unspoiled and experiencing Nald’thal and In the Balance completely unprepared. Soken blew my tits clean off.

- Staying up til like 1am to finish Endwalker because I was getting close to the end of it when I probably should have gone to bed. I don’t regret it.

- Doing Shiva EX synced on a whim while still in my Free Trial Era and reaching the phase transition for the first time

- Protocarbuncle Hell before the raid static fell apart (Devour is a cruel and unusual punishment i swear)

And my greatest memory: doing P7 Normal, watching everyone else die when the boss had 10% health left, and then finishing the fight on my own, to the bewildered cheering of the raid. I got seven comms. Warrior Number One.

[psychosomaticdeicide]

I know that there shouldn’t be shame in finding a name I identify with more than the previous one I’d chosen, but I had started going by the previous name a while ago and people know me by that name now.

The names are very similar. It’s just a matter of pronunciation and letter deletion. The newer one is easier to say. Has a nice meaning to it, as well, despite me not knowing what it meant before I looked it up. Slapped a letter back on the end just because it felt purposeful.

Maybe I’m gonna do the same thing with this name as I did the previous and sit on it until it decides to come out of my mouth.

Even so, all the names I’ve gone by don’t feel like they suit me visually, like there’s a disconnect between my appearance and the name that feels as right my insides. The names have been either grand or simple, and the simplest one is the one that fits me visually. And it’s my middle name—which I don’t plan on changing—so it’s going to always be here.

The previous sounds like an evil wizard (cool as fuck), the new one sounds like a fantasy character (also cool, but slightly more professional), and the middle name is like plucking a string on a guitar (regular, but Asian flavor).

The only reason why I came up with the new name is because YouTube rolled up with the username ID feature and I wanted to put something that was funny to me at 1am. When I had come up with the previous, I had dismissed this name already for being too reminiscent of a fictional character’s name and also not feeling quite right at the time.

So now I’m here, a couple years older, and I still haven’t changed my legal name. I might actually be able to after I quit my job because I don’t have to accommodate the whims of my boss and the “flexible” schedule.

[handelplayssims]

Welcome back to the Sims 4! Where we are going to take on a household I sorta dread picking up. Because of one simple reason.

Don’t let their average appearances fool you. The Stuart-Waddell household is actually a vampiric family. Omar was turned by Lilith in her aspiration and he and Rozanna hit it off. So he moved in with her and I keep getting this household in the randomized rotation. All members of this household are vampires! Including the kids! Because they are vampire children! Who will enjoy their brief bit of humanity before they turn into teens. Anyway, let’s start this up, shall we?

I am making a grumpy face at this. Why you may ask? Because I’m pretty certain Harrison was close to ageing up on the next time I visited this household and I was looking forward to that. After looking at his social list and seeing a good amount of people he flirted with for his romance aspiration aged up into young adulthood plus knowing that his aspiration I’ve set for him is the fortune one, I’m deciding to go ahead and age him up at the end of this session with this household. You can have a birthday party whenever and it’s not like I have to worry about timing his age with the adults in this household!

Anyway, let’s take a look at Roxana’s whims. Wants to get a promotion, that being tied to her aspiration, Renaissance Sim, which isn’t really necessary at this point. More important is to get level 8 in 6 skills ...which she only needs to finish off one more skill for! Nice! Omar Waddell...wants to eat popcorn. You do you, vampire dude. Sure hope you have the stomach for it. Harrison...wants to embrace one of his lovers, Ramon and chat with another, Luna Villareal. Did I mention he finished the Serial Romantic aspiration? Because he completed the serial romantic aspiration as a teen. It’s a bit early to chat with fellow teens though so we’ll just keep that in mind. Selena Stuart...wants to become enemies with her father. Jesus! Did I mention that both parents have that weird hissing tic as a drawback as vampires? That works on children evidently? Well her other whim is to be alone so we can do that. Emile...simply wants to watch tv as a lazy sim. Fun! Well she’s hungry so let’s finish that whim first and foremost.

Annnd, it’s New Years Eve! Let’s see what everyone’s favorite traditions are. Omar likes decorating and wants to make a resolution as an ambitious Sim. We had decorations set up already so let’s take them down and put up something newer. Also, let’s get some home decorations as well! ...which ended up being a lot of strung up streamers. I would have also gone for a top hat like thing we didn’t have a place for it! Harrison...also likes the decoration tradition. Good for him! He also wants to party and have a countdown to midnight. ...well now! The kids just want to stay up late and Roxanna just wants to decorate. Welp, that’s all fulfilled. I am now also going to set up a house party for Harrison! It’s set for 1AM on Sunday! LATE NIGHT TEEN PARTY! WOOO! But not here, no. Let’s crash Luna Villareal’s house!

Oh hey, Omar should go and chat with his daughter- JESUS! Man, that whole thing about the weird hissing is a real and true drawback of being a vampire, isn’t it? So now I’m just having the family casually hang out for a bit. Well, most of the family. Mostly I’m waiting for the time to be decent enough for Harrison to go and call up his boyfriend. Hmm. Don’t know what and where I would like to go and do things with him. How about I get into a flirty mood first and then send a flirty text and see where it takes me?

Oh huh. Omar’s aspiration is to be a super parent, and his next stage is simply discipling a child 5 times. HEY SELENA! Shout some forbidden words, why don’t ya? Because all the other stages are fullfilled so let’s just move on, shall we? Next is...well. It’s simply helping a child with school work for four hours. And we already got three hours done already.

Annnd Roxana finished her aspiration! Renaissance Sim she is! Now, I could focus on family aspirations next, considering her family oriented trait...but now I can have her create vampires! And spread that vampirism around once more! And with her vampire traits already, she’s up to the third stage as is. Also she has 18 thousand reward points. I think it’s time to spend them. Brave, aboslutely. I wonder if Hardly Hungery will work on thirst? Likely not but I think it’s fitting. Savant works well with her finished aspiration, since it boosts skill gain! ...which would have been handy during the aspiration but eh. And let’s finish it off with the Frugal trait. Back to Omar and...it seems we can’t help Emile with homework. I suppose so. Must be the harsh relationship. Neither with Selena. OH HARRISON! Yeah I can do it with him and he has a good relationship with his dad. And there we go! There goes that stage. Now for level 10 parenting skill, going into full parent mode and having a child with three positive character value traits. Anyway, enough family time! Time to send a text to Ramon and see where he wants to hang out at! ...the bar. I don’t think teens would be allowed in there. God, where do teens hang out at? Trick question, I know the answer is that now they spend all of their time isolated at home, thanks to the lack of places for teens to actually go. But that’s in reality, how about Sims world? ...I’m actually going to google this. So Pew Research says that most teens tend to hang out at school, online, around the neighborhood and only sometimes at business establishments. Oh, and hanging at each others houses. It’s basically between neighborhoods and houses for those sorts of not-at-school hangouts. Unfortunately, is a townie so that won’t work so let’s head to the park.

...you know what I should do? Establish Harrison as bi-sexual. Because he’s firmly that. ...one moment while I toggle a cheat on because I can’t get into it directly. And there we go! Romanticly and sexually attracted to all established genders! While I do get the flirting in, he also gets surrounded by Moria Fyres and Dwight LeBlac, Garden Gnomes members. Alas. Also, we drank some blood consensually from Ramon while we were at it. He’s getting thirsty and you only get so much from people. Especially willingly. Because Harrison feels guilty and super tense if he drinks from people unwillingly. Oooh, evidently his blood is extra nice. No wonder we’re dating him. Also we kept on getting pulled over to Moria and Dwight so it’s time to be rude and tell them to buzz off. Well, rude introduction into a goodbye, at least.

Also, I teehee’d upon seeing another one of Harrison’s paramours, Nadine, walking past as we smooching Ramon. Everyone knows he’s a slut and doesn’t care! Benefits of that serial romantic reward perk dropping in! Anyway, the two casually chat and flirt until 8PM, at which point, we return home! Both Roxana and Omar are in need of a certain plasma drink and I don’t particularly feel like hunting at the moment. So we’re just going to have some plasma fruit for Roxana and Omar shall have some plasma packs. And now it’s time for the whole family to gather around the television to check out the New Year’s show. The usual tradition that clears off Countdown to Midnight. Time to chant shi-shoobe and make the countdown go! Annnd it cleared off for the parents and the kids, but not for Harrison. That’s fine! We got party time! ...and me manually turning off the tv did it. Nice. And now with casual chatter post-midnight done, we’re off to party!

Now, normally, I’d set up a goaled event for a house party. Alas, you can’t really do that at holidays. Also, when you have a house party elsewhere, it’s difficult to set things up and fullfill those goals anyway! Anyway, I decided to have Harrison sit at the bartending counter and make four drinks for all of his dates. Now, whether or not they will be drunk by them will be up to them. -shrugs- It’s how it goes. Now I’m just glancing at everyone’s party clothes to see who’s the “hottest.” Harrison is rather vain like that.

Pre-made townie fashion! ...I mean, out of these guys, I guess Ramon. But we got one more person out of the dates around hanging out, and it’s the teen of the house we’re crashing!

...yeah it would be the one with actual thought put into her fashion, wouldn’t it? I tried to have him kiss her but got rejected! Wow! Granted, I started out with Luna smooching girls when I played her household so, I suppose no surprise. Aye! A few more flirts and we get up to a flirty mood for Luna! Woo! Also Nadine did walk in on Harrison proposing messing around with Luna and got a Deeply Wounded moodlet. Huh. Anyway, hot tub messing around times! Heheheh. Oh wait! We need to ask permission for something that’s also important! I WANT TO DRINK YOUR BLOOD! It worked! Ah, and the party is over. Alas and alack, it is morning light. Time to head home, but also time for-

Neighborhood Watch! (once I figure out where the mailbox actually is on this lot)

Evergreen Harbor: The Ferhat household recently moved out.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

FSS' TPN Journey Timeline:

March 26, 2021: On a whim put TPN S1 episode 1 on at 1am, become immediately engrossed by the end of the first episode but cut it off after episode 6 because it's now 4am and I need to go to bed. Pick it back up again 12 hours later because I have to know what happens next.

March 27-30, 2021: Read starting from chapter 38 until the end of the series after asking some friends what they thought of S2 that had literally just wrapped up two days ago and gathering the general consensus that S2 was Not Good while avoiding spoilers other than the S2 promotional poster art. I watched S2 episode 1 and then read the corresponding chapters, watched S2 episode 2 and read the corresponding chapters, watched S2 episode 3 and read the corresponding chapters and realized this was where the canon divergence came in, so from that point I stuck to reading just the manga before going back to the anime.

March 31, 2021: I enjoy the series enough I'm willing to drop 130USD on a copy of the S1 blu-ray.

April 2021: I find @1000sunnygo' blog and discover she's translating all of the behind the scenes information presented in the mystic code book. There's two chapters out at this point so I regularly keep up with new posts throughout the year. I am a kid in a candy store with all the informative, new-to-me content being shared not for monetary gain but just a genuine appreciation for the series.

December 29, 2021: The technical official start date of this blog when I debated whether to commit to having a side blog or to continue brainrotting on main.

February 14, 2022: After nearly a year of having this series occupying my idle attention, I feel like it's worth having a side blog and share my first shitpost.

Happy anniversary to my binging this series and it claiming my heart 🥳💜🧡💙🎉

Somehow I managed to avoid all of the spoilers other than “the orphanage is a farm” for years and only got into it the day before the S2 finale aired. I didn’t think I’d become so smitten, randomly deciding to watch an episode of S1 because it was recommended by Netflix in the wee hours of the morning, and yet here I am a year later, still incredibly endeared to it.

[animatedrapture]

"𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖞" — suna rintarou ;

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?

It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.

It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.

That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.

"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

"Yeah?"

"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."

"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.

"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"

"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.

"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.

They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"

"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."

"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."

That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[thetruecthulhu9]

Oooh! And you def need to elaborate on I can shape shift. Why wouldn’t I??

I hate this one, dont like it at all, could be because i wrote the dogs share at 1am.

“Look,” frank ground out, “ i can shapeshift, so tell me, pontifex grace, why exactly shouldn’t i?” Frank had been quite happy, until five minuets ago, sitting around hazle’s shoulders in the form of a tonkineese cat. It was quite comfortable up there when he took such a small form and his girlfriend’s hair was delightful shelter from the elements, especially when it was just the light rain they were passing through. A delightful relaxing time that had just been completely and utterly demolished by what could barely qualify as a new recruit.

The sad thing was it wasn’t even a kid, frank and hazel had already started flushing out the younger recruits, so he didnt have age to excuse his ignorance when he walked up to hazel without realising they were a pair. The fool tried to intimidate his girlfriend and co-leader into giving him status, taking him off probatio without a single score of allegiance. Hazel was completely at ease with the scene though, so although still glaring, frank sat in place to offer support. That was until he tried to grab her, which is how he got here.

“Because you’re using it to start fights frank! You cant-“

“Preator”

“What?”

“Its preator zhang to you pontifex, if this is how you are going to react to a legionnaire attempting to assault their preator.” Frank responded, features stone cold.

Jason took a breath looking skywards before turning to hazel for help, only to see her sat on the back of said legionnaire, who was acting as her bench, with one hand sat loosely on the pommel of her gladius, its tip resting on her victim’s hand, on the edge of breaking skin. She raised a brow and snorted, before speaking over the unasked question, “really grace, i have to wonder how Reyna was treated while you stood by and watched. Id wonder if young men were even taught how to treat a lady these days if it weren’t for frank and percy.” The mocking admonishment was abundantly clear to the son of Jupiter even through his cousin’s ceramic smile, so he turned back to frank.

‘If you had been in your human form they wouldnt even try in the first place. If you were just normal you could protect her like you want to”

“I do adore the implication that i cant be comfortable in any body other than one you can see yourself in. And the assumption that this is how you can talk to your superiors! It’s hilarious grace! You are a joke. And why would preator levesque need my protection in the first place? She is fully capable of protecting herself. Or do you not believe that is true grace?” As if to punctuate his statement, the legionnaire attempted to buck his captor, aiming for an easy escape. In response hazel pressed down on her pommel with enough force to drive the blade clean through the man’s hand and into the concrete below, tutting the whole way.

“The reality is, pontifex, this should have never happened, and the fact that you allowed it to flourish under your command to the point that it is not even considered noteworthy enough to report to the senate is disturbing.”

“That’s not fair frank-“

“Preator zhang”

“-preator zhang. I was paired with Reyna for a portion of my time”

“And you think she would condone any of the behaviour shown today? No. Now you, pontifex, will leave to attend to your duties while we deal with a case of insubordination, then i will enter whatever form suits my whims and will be on my way. Off you trot now.” Frank finished, waving the blond off easily.

It was silent for a moment, the only noice the whimpering of an idiot who thought he had power, before hazel broke it, “you know that was hot right?”

Frank blushed and broke out in a grin, “thanks haze, i was just embracing my inner annabeth really”

“Huh, i guess that makes me percy then”

“Getting shit sorted and looking pretty doing it? you definitely fit the bill” frank flirted, before folding into a tiny capybara. Hazel threw her head back and cackled, before picking up the small mammal and hugging it to her chest and walking away.

[eldrai]

Reasons why you like/dislike your name: I do like my birth name because it is originally French and my mum heard of it when she was doing a year abroad in France during uni. And a very minor thing but it starts and ends with the same letter which is quite satisfying. Though it does get misspelled a lot because it sounds like a similar name so people assume it is spellt the same way. Similar things happen fairly often with my middle and surnames too. Fun fact: Sam is what my dad initially wanted to name me. Not Samuel or Samantha, just Sam because it would get shortened anyway. And his logic makes me smile. It's also gender neutral, there's a bonus.

Star sign: Aries, but don't ask me what my sun/moon/whatever signs are because I have no idea. Just Aries!

Country you live in: Not a country but within the UK.

Favourite artist: This is a hard one because I have a lot but easy because I have a lot! I think my first real favourite was/is Marina. Mother mother is a more recent one but definitely another favourite. Brand new, the dear hunter and radical face are all very very good too!

Morning, afternoon or evening: Evening. 100%. I am not a morning person and I do my best writing at late evening or night... into early morning, unfortunately. If stuff started later I'd be up at 1AM much more often. I say I'll fix my sleep schedule but I just never do.

Siblings: Yes, one younger by two years. They're absolutely hilarious and I love them.

Sexuality: Bisexual, I think? I don't know. Figuring stuff out but I think bi!

Favourite special item: I have a little cuddly toy cow I had the day after I was born, and one of the earliest photos of me is me in a cot getting the jaundice prevention treatment with the sunglasses and they'd given him mini sunglasses too :) He had a voice box thing that used to let him moo, though that did stop working a while ago.

Five random facts?

I once memorised a poem the night before for my English class and on a whim volunteered to recite it in front of them when the teacher needed someone. I remembered all but 2 lines!

When I was younger, I was part of a study looking at the differences between autistic and allistic children when doing some tasks. I was in the allistic control group. And years down the line we have now figured out I am autistic! Sorry to the researchers whose data I might have very slightly skewed.

I currently have 1321 liked songs on Spotify, most of which are one-offs from all different musicians.

My first fanfiction is still up on ao3 because I orphaned it, and although it makes me cringe at the quality it's also a reminder of my improvement and how nice people were in the comments.

I know how to solve a Rubiks cube :)

^Get to know your mutuals tag game.

Tumblr mobile is being tumblr so I can't add anything at the top but thanks for the unofficial tag @jaspxr and, if you want to, anyone reading this and @hotchley !!

[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

hiya! since tomorrow is thanksgiving I thought it would be better for everyone if I posted this week’s chapter today! hope you like!

Chapter Two. February 

give me moonlight, and a smile from you that I can // that I can barely believe — dancing under red skies, dermot kennedy

It comes on slow, the way waves lap up against the shore late at night, when there aren’t many boats out to disrupt them. Over and over, bit by bit, it settles in. The first wave of it bites at Lu’s ankles when her toilet overflows at 6am, leaving her standing in her socks in the bathroom, soaking wet, worrying about the water leaking into the shop below, while Ruairí meows in concern from his spot atop the sink. Frantic, Lu calls her dad, and it goes to voicemail twice before she remembers it’s 1am in New York. 

Accompanied only by a YouTube tutorial and the rising sun, Lu manages to fix the mess, shower, and start the day all on her own. Her dad calls back five hours later, and Lu feels like she’s lived a whole lifetime between then and now. 

The second wave of it has more venom. She sleeps in on a Sunday—the only day the shop is closed—stirring around 10 because Ruairí is relentless, screeching in her ear, kneading at her belly, desperate for something to eat. Mindless, she feeds him, freshens up his water, makes herself a cup of coffee, pulls out a pastry leftover from Siobhan’s bake the day before, and settles into a spot by the window of her flat, overlooking the sea, all before thinking to take a look at her phone. 

Even if she goes 12 hours without looking at her phone, Lu finds she doesn’t miss much these days—she left home on a whim, without a ton of fanfare, and knows full well that she isn’t putting in the effort she should to keep in touch with friends from home. She also knows that’s why she left.

So, most mornings, she wakes up to a few messages in the family group chat, a message or two from her best friend Georgia, and not much else. This morning, it’s different. 

208 texts. 12 missed calls. 

Lu’s stomach sinks like a stone. Her whole body heats up at once. Her hands start shaking and her heart starts hammering, all before she even manages to swipe open a single notification. 

She doesn’t even have the wherewithal to cycle through possibilities. Her brain, hitting overdrive from the start, has no question that it’s bad. 

In WhatsApp, Lu finds that her family group chat has 206 messages. She has one separate text from her dad, and a final separate text from her brother. Nothing from her mom. 

Shaking, she swipes open her dad’s first. On the counter, Ruairí is sniffing at a banana. 

Hi, love, his message says. Figured the number of messages in the group chat is overwhelming. We’re at the hospital with Sam now. All is well, the appendix is out and he’s resting. Mary’s with us, she got back from Honduras yesterday. Good timing. Give us a call when you get a chance. 

From her brother, Lu finds a selfie. He’s in a hospital bed, gown around his shoulders. He looks pale, dark circles around his eyes, but he’s okay—he’s smiling, giving the camera a thumbs up. Underneath, the message says I lived, bitch. 

Relief coursing through her, Lu lets out a shaky laugh. It’s scarily on-brand for Sam to pull out a meme at a moment like this. 

Slowly but surely, Lu’s heartbeat slows to its normal rate. As it does, she scrolls back through the messages from the night before: her brother raising the alarm that he had a pesky pain in his side, their mother, a doctor herself, urging him to get it checked out. There’s a moment where Sam says the doctor is sending him home, and another where their mom urges him to demand an ultrasound, just in case. He does, and they find the appendicitis. Lu shudders to think what would’ve happened had her mother been the one sleeping soundlessly an ocean away. 

It’s five am in New York. Lu figures they’re all shattered. Rather than call and risk waking everyone up after what was surely a late, long night, Lu shoots off a text to her dad, asking him to call her when they wake up and sending lots of love. She turns her ringer up all the way so she won’t miss anything else. She feels a million miles away. 

####

On February first, Lu wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s still dark outside, but that doesn’t mean much in a place where the sun doesn’t rise until nearly 9am. Still, Lu doesn’t even need to look at a clock to know it must be early: perched on the pillow next to her head, Ruairí is snoring gently, dead to the world, not yet ready to demand breakfast. 

Heart hammering, Lu gropes around the bed until her hand closes around her phone, cold. She squints, then sighs, as she checks the time.

4:45am. 

Lu is no stranger to waking up mid-panic attack. Sometimes, it feels like choking—like she can’t get a breath down deep enough, to pool in the bottom of her lungs. Other times, it feels like an unavoidable urge to get up, move, get as far away from the space she woke up in as physically possible. Right now, it feels like a stomach ache, period pains, itchy skin, her body trying to tell her that something, somewhere, is going terribly wrong. 

Logically, she knows it’s not. She holds her breath, five, four, three, two, one, and checks her phone as her heart jackrabbits away. Nothing out of the ordinary: her mom texted a picture of her glass of wine with dinner to the family group chat, her dad reported the score of a soccer game, her brother sent that he’d managed to run a full two miles today, his furthest since the appendectomy. Everything is fine. 

Except for Lu. 

There’s no use trying to go back to sleep; Lu knows herself better than that. Heart still working overtime despite reassurance, she slips out of bed as gently as she can, praying that she won’t wake Ruairí. She’s silent as she gets dressed and silent as she tiptoes out of her bedroom, out of the apartment, and down the stairs. The morning is still and dark, but you can hear for miles and miles on Inis Mór, and as she begins her walk the soft, familiar sounds of tractors roaring to life, cows mooing for their breakfast, sheep and goats bleating, remind Lu that she’s not the only one—that others are here too, alive, beginning their day, pushing on. Home. And underneath it all, there is, always, the sound of the waves, constant, crashing against the shore. 

####

Lu doesn’t get a chance to nap. She walks, balancing on the edge of the cliffs that overlook the Atlantic, breathing in the sea air and thinking about how the water here, crashing, violent against the cliffs below her is the same water that once lapped up on the shores of Long Island, of Coney Island, of the Rockaways, of home. Seagulls swoop, low and graceful, over her head, over the ocean, and Lu thinks that if she asked her dad to drop a floatie into the Atlantic for her it just might make it—just might wash up here, on the edge of the Earth, the way she has. 

She walks and walks—you can walk all the way around Inis Mór and back in under five hours, but she doesn’t have that kind of time. She walks along the cliffs, the white, blinding, otherworldly geology of the Burren, through the grass and the mud and the cow shit, until she’s back at the cafe, windows glowing golden against the rising sun, condensation clinging to them from the inside. Siobhan is pulling pastries out of the oven when she opens the door around 6:30, and Ruairí, curled up on the counter, looks at her, bitter. 

Siobhan smiles, “There you are. No worries, pet, I’ve fed him his breakfast.” 

She wobbles through the day, exhausted from the panic, the walk, the lack of sleep. She messes up at least two orders—gives Mrs. Duffy whole milk instead of skim, drops Mr. Kennedy’s sandwich on the floor while she’s bringing it over to him—but, as always, no one bats an eye. They touch her arm gently, lull “oh, it’s no bother, darling, we’ll make it right, now,” and the cadence of their laughter carries as she does exactly that. There’s no venom, no rush, nothing to give Lu the adrenaline she so badly needs to make it through the day. 

Somehow, she almost forgets that it’s Niall’s first day. But all of a sudden it’s twelve hours later and he’s bustling inside, bringing a rush of cold air with him. The door swings shut behind him and Lu, who had been curled up at the cushioned window seat with Ruairí on top of her in a moment of quiet, jumps. The cat’s only just forgiven her for this morning, and her movement causes him to stalk off in anger. She sighs after him.

“Oh, no,” Niall laughs a little, “sorry, did I interrupt something?” He looks soft and sweet in his dark jeans, his hat pulled low over his forehead. He’s shedding his puffer jacket to reveal a navy blue cable knit sweater and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His eyes, bright and blue as Lu remembers them, find hers. He smiles. 

“Yeah,” Lu just about manages. “He just forgave me, you totally ruined it.”

Niall barks out a laugh, head thrown back, shoulders hunching up. “What did you do?” 

“Forgot to feed him breakfast this morning,” Lu sighs. “Siobhan did it, but he held it against me anyway.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall shrugs. “I’d be mad too, if I were a cat.” 

“S’a good thing you’re not, then,” Lu smiles. “I’m not here to feed you.” 

Niall’s still giggling. Lu wonders if he ever stops. 

“I’m thinking I might make him pupcakes or something as an apology…” Lu is rambling a bit now, but she’s so tired, and Niall’s so cute, and nothing is real here, anyway. “I know they’re for dogs but I can’t imagine they’re bad for cats? I bet he’ll like those—honestly, I bet he’ll just like knowing I slaved over a hot stove for him. It’s like he can tell, you know?” 

It wasn’t meant to be that funny, but Niall is fully cackling, crinkles by his eyes on full display, one hand clutching his tummy. “You’re funny,” he says between laughs. “A bit looney, me da would say—hey, Lu, looney, Looney Tunes. It all makes sense.” 

“Isn’t ‘looney’ offensive?” The banter with him comes so easily, Lu doesn’t let herself overthink it. “Think we’re supposed to stop using it.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall’s pulling his guitar out to tune, now, “You’re in Ireland now, love. All good nicknames are a little offensive.”

####

The night is mostly quiet, a dozen customers at the most, which Lu thinks is probably good for Niall’s nerves. He’s just as stunning as he was the night Lu first met him, pulling out an arsenal of covers ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Post Malone, somehow making them all work for his voice, for the vibe, for everyone, but he’s shaking—she can see it when he pushes his hair off his forehead, or when he drops his pick on the floor between songs, laughing awkwardly as he bends to grab it. Even with the mistakes, the dropped pick, the few stumbles over lyrics, he’s endearing, engaging, all-consuming. Lu’s meant to be working, but she can’t find it in her to look away.

From her spot at the counter, Lu watches how Niall keeps his eyes trained on the window across from him. He doesn’t seem to be looking for anyone or anything, but Lu suspects it’s easier than looking his audience in the eye—despite the fact that she can see for herself just how captivated they are. It shouldn’t take an hour and a half to drink one coffee and eat one slice of chocolate cake, but that’s how long old Mr. Kane spends in the shop anyway, eyes closed, listening to Niall play. 

For two full hours, Niall keeps the shop warm and alive. Everyone is so captivated that Lu barely has to work after all; she leans up against the counter instead, cradling the mug of hot chocolate that Siobhan made her before she left for the night, and taking him in. She barely knows him, and yet. 

Lu has seen plenty of nervous first-timers performing in front of apathetic crowds—it was practically her job, after all. She’s also seen more than her fair share of world class performers stunning crowds that want to eat them up, keep them on stage forever, bottle their energy and carry it through the rest of their lives. Working in the music industry, even just as an assistant, for five years turned her hard and jaded, made her feel like she’s seen the seedy, rough, rude underbelly of it all—but she’s never seen anyone perform like Niall before. His unadulterated, all consuming love for music is tangible, even from across the room. This is now Niall communicates. This is how he understands the world. This is how he sees life. Half of Lu feels lucky to hear it—the other half feels sick knowing that his talent is wasted here.

It almost makes her sad to have to close up at 9. Niall’s good about it—he’s designed his set to last exactly two hours, finds a climax in the middle with “Dancing in the Dark” and tapers his song choices toward a slow but steady ending, letting everyone know, without having to say it, that it’s time to head home. Lu doesn’t even have to ask him if he knows how to play “Closing Time.” 

Mr. Kane is the last to leave, sticking around a little after nine to shake Niall’s hand and tell him he had no idea how talented Maura’s son is. He talks about Maura—Lu assumes she must be Niall’s mom—while Lu slowly, quietly begins putting dishes away. She likes the routine of this already, Niall’s quiet voice, his booming laugh, his warm presence keeping her company while she settles down for the night. It’s something she could get used to. It’s something, the first thing, she thinks she could miss, if she left. 

Niall masterfully leads his conversation with Mr. Kane toward goodbyes, shaking his hand again as he shuts the door behind him. Lu looks up from where she was rinsing a cup to watch as Niall watches through the window to make sure Mr. Kane gets in his car. He waits for the car to start before turning around, leaning his back up against the door, dragging a hand through his hair, and letting out a long sigh. 

“Alright?” Lu asks, gentle. Niall’s got his eyes closed, his head back, neck exposed to her. It’s thick and littered with freckles, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. In her chest, Lu’s heart does something funny. She presses her thighs together, tight. 

Niall opens his eyes halfway, exhaling a little laugh as he meets Lu’s gaze. She hopes he can’t tell—how could he? 

“Yeah,” he says then, standing all the way up and shaking his head. “That was mad.” 

“It was amazing,” Lu counters. She gently places the mug back into the sink, bracing her hands against the edge. Part of her is afraid of what she’ll do without something between him and her. “They were so into it. No one could look away from you.”

Her cheeks flush, and Niall catches it. The corner of his mouth pulls up in half a smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ya think so?” 

“I know so,” Lu presses her lips together, but it doesn’t do much to prevent her smile. “‘Dancing In The Dark’ was my favorite one; it’s perfect for your voice.” 

“Thanks, Looney Tunes,” Niall hums, making his way back over toward her. “Can I help ya clean up? I wash, you dry?”

“Oh,” Lu stills. She’d half forgotten about the dishes still left to clean, the floor to sweep, the leftovers to toss, the counters to wipe down. Her mind stumbles over the best way to go about this: it would be rude to keep him, but, God, she wants his company. She realizes, with a slight swoop in her belly, that she hasn’t felt homesick in two hours. She needs him to stay. “I actually—I have a dishwasher. I just like to rinse everything before I put it in.” 

Niall smiles. He comes around the counter to stand next to Lu at the sink, knocking his hip against hers. “Sensible,” he says. It’s quiet. Just for her. “I’ll rinse and put ‘em in. You’ve been stood here all night. What else do you have to do?” 

“Uh,” Lu feels like her whole body is vibrating. Her mind turns over itself like an engine that won’t start. “Sweep the floors, wipe down the counters, lock up.” 

“Alright,” Niall is so close that Lu can smell his aftershave. Warm, soft, mixed with sweat from his nerves and the smell of his skin. “Let’s do it.”

####

taglist: @missy14us @antisocialsocialclub5 @coconutdawn @ficnarry @bopbopstyles @okaaayniall @theresnooneheretosave @niallgolden @tinyfelthat @adoremp3 @thelifeofbo @crocodileniall @niallsguitarthings @kara-246

Join the tag list here.

[kerwritesthings]

South Of The Equator

Summary: Gestures of love are woven in the fabric of relationships, especially ones built around the priority of your love

Word Count: literally juuuuust shy of 5.8k

Warning: pining, love and fluff

Author Notes: Muse fell in love with this photo last week when Bre threw it out onto my dash, spit out stupid notes at midnight that night for it along with about 350ish words and then didn’t touch it until again yesterday evening where I proceeded to crank out about 5.8k in less than 24 hours. Oops?

This falls well later into the verse, like the latest I’ve taken it thus far. It just felt right to bring this into that part of the timeline with the premise and where the muse was taking this. Can be read as a standalone but diving into the verse and the masterlist would give a little bit more understanding.

It was not in the plans. Whatsoever. A whim. A lot of longing. A lot of missing connections. A lot of feeling that this was a sync you just wouldn’t be able to get. That scares the both of you, more than either of you will let on especially to the other. You both promise that this would be the longest stretch on this very last swing – something like 48 or 50 days depending on travel for both of you, that a somewhere between 12 and 14-hour plane ride at best for a long weekend made no sense. You’re in Bucharest when he starts the swing in Mexico. What was thought to be a few days off for him to come home to see you between the last Mexico show and the venture further south becomes non-existent, with surprise pop up concerts in both Costa Rica and Panama along with hoopla surrounding them on either side that the label drops last minute. You initially think you’d be able to make the last shows, but there was a potential work trip to Hong Kong hanging over your head, so you both agree not book anything.

Well, love makes you do some stupid and irresponsibly crazy things. When the Asia client pushes their timeline back, things change completely. Which is why you find yourself on the phone, trying to make arrangements while juggling 7 open browser tabs on your laptop at nearly 1am. This is what you do for each other. It’s been established. It’s been done for each other on numerous occasions throughout your relationship. But it’s never been something like this. This grand and involved.

“Up for a bit of a challenge?” you start. “What’s the actual schedule like between Buenos and Rio and Santiago?”

“Flip it around. Chile first. Then Buenos then Sao Paulo. Finish off in Rio,” Beatriz laughs. “Don’t book the wrong flight. Cause. This is where it’s going isn’t it? This bugger is so lucky to have you. He best appreciate this. He’s been whiny. More to Cez then me. Andrew too, but he trusts Cez more when it comes to you.”

“He’s not the only one,” you sigh. “Dee’s taken to sending me videos and photos of Tali every day before I call to bitch to her to try to ease my tension. We’ve done longer, when we first got together. This one though. We’re just not taking it well, either of us. It feels off. He can’t come to me, so I have to go to him.”

“There’s doubles now in Santiago, not just in Buenos and Rio. Only the one in Sao Paulo. Days off scattered through, but definitely some between the city jumps. Are you really going to try to do just a weekend down here?” she asks.

“Work remote if I can swing it. Then bank out on some time off. I’m due after the extra hours to lock in the Danish project and the haul to Bucharest for basically a 48-hour lookie loo from them with no commitments. Boss lady is great as long as my work gets done and I don’t pull the ask for ‘but my famous boyfriend’ very often, if at all,” you explain, poking away at the keys of your laptop.

“Ooh Denmark, so you going to get out for that one?” Beatriz questions. “Do you have a lam for this tour? Should we get you another?”

“I think I can, timing looks ok and I may be able to drag Shawn with me for once since it’s after all this hoopla,” you mutter, poking at Kayak and cursing. “I think I do, snag one just in case if it’s not too much trouble. It looks like Air Canada has a direct from Pearson to Santiago at 11 hours of flight time and an overnight red-eye. Bless it. No layovers. Less chance for him to even let on. Y’all can sneak me in on the flights between yeah?”

“Shawn is gonna shit you know this right?” she laughs. “I heard about your surprises you both have pulled on each other before, but this is something else. Duh girl, yes of course. He’d have you sit on his lap the whole flight if he had to, but we definitely have the room. Give me the flight info. I’ll make Cez book it. Do not even think about clicking that buy button that I know you’re hovering over.”

“Bea...” you begin.

“No, not hearing it. Cez blocked out travel budget for him to go home and you know that didn’t happen, so your flight there and then back with him at the end it is instead,” Beatriz interjects. “I’ll loop in C for sure. Maybe Andrew. Less folks who know the better, we need to keep this on lock down.”

“Beatriz, you’re the best. I owe you big time. I’m so glad you’re on this rag tag motley crew,” you thank her. “Let Cez know if he needs anything when he’s booking, if they don’t have it saved to just let me know.”

“Bottle of Bulleit and you finally spill the recipe for those kitchen sink bars the boys are always raving about and inhaling, we’ll call it even,” she deadpans. “But no really, I’m glad to help. As much as I tease that boy of yours, I’ve got a soft spot for him. We need to figure an epic reveal. It’s late. I’ll fire off a text to Cez and we’ll be on it tomorrow. Off with you. Night!”

You have a week between that call and your flight down to get all your things in order luckily. Work is understanding and accommodating, your boss practically sending out the out of office email for you after she hears your plans. He meanwhile has a few shows in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia ahead of him within that same time frame.

“There’s that face I adore,” you smile through FaceTime as you’re tucked in bed, two nights before you’re due to leave. “Hi you. How was the show? Where are you now?”

“Just out of the shower in the hotel and about to fall face first into bed, but I needed a dose of my pretty girl before I do,” he exhales, running a hand though his mess of wet curls. “Good, crowds down here are something else. Beyond the first time I swung through, on the last tour. And them singing back in perfect English still breaks my brain a little. Tired though. Looking forward to the break. Day break here, then like a half one off in Santiago before the last few shows. It’s so crazy to think we’re there already.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” you murmur. “You did it baby, an entire circle of the globe. I’m beyond proud of you.”

“As much as I love this, I’m ready for just me, you and our bed. At least for a week straight, if not a few of them,” he chuckles. “Remind me of how tired I am now when I start to say I’m twitchy or bored, ok?”

“If you say so,” you say sleepily. “Just remember, I get to drag you with me on some my work trips next. Denmark for sure. Hong Kong perhaps since that’s still a moving target. Maybe Prague. Wanna be a silly romantic tourist with you for a bit. Just me and you”

“Always me and you, sweetheart. Go get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning,” he whispers. “We can talk more tomorrow, promise.”

“You sure?” you fight back a yawn, eyes starting to flutter. “Can you sing to me though? Please? I miss you. Be like you’re here.”

He starts humming at first, the eases into a slowed down, Shawn-esque version of Sam Smith’s Latch. You want to stay awake to hear the whole thing, but he sounds like he’s there singing it right into your ear while he’s got your back against his chest. It’s so pretty, easy and dream like that you drift off in moments. He watches you for a few minutes after he finishes the song, making sure you’re truly asleep. Plus, he just wants to feel like he’s next to you in bed.

“Goodnight and sleep well, baby,” he whispers before disconnecting from FaceTime, a small smile slipping across his lips.

“He still has no clue by the way, so you’ve done a bang-up job,” Cez explains as he rings you while you’re in the car on the way to Pearson. “You’re still running on time from what we checked so you’re good. We’ve got everything square. Bea will come snag you from the airport, you’ll have time to hit the hotel, she’ll have the extra room key for you so you can get some actual rest and then get ready. Figure we’ll grab you while he’s doing Q&A. Do you want to surprise him before the show? After?”

“During?” you laugh, leaning your head back against the headrest as the car makes its way down the 401. “Maximum effect. Con would be on my side too you know, epic footage.”

“Of course, you do,” he retorts. “I should have known. Don’t forget, I’m on your side too. I’m glad this worked. I know it’s been a long stretch. For the both of you. I’ve seen it wear on him, but he’s put up a good front minus a few nights where he ends up with me until he needs to get to sleep, just needing someone who understands to talk to.”

“I’m glad he has you, that we both have you. You are a gift, Cez, really,” you reply as the car slows to ease up to the terminal. “I’m just about to hop out. I’ll text you and Bea when I land in the morning, customs will probably take a bit to get through. Thank you again.”

“Fly safe, dear. Try to get some rest and we’ll see you tomorrow,” he responds.

Check in was easy, of course they went above and beyond on the flight. You text Cez and Bea a photo of a cookie from the lounge with your ticket telling them they did not need to and thanking them. Cez responds first.

Again, you know if he found out we flew you like in row 24 on a flight that long, he would pitch a fit. I’m not up for a Shawn fit this late into the last of the last legs of tour. Enjoy the space and the lay flat. Sunshine and that boy awaits you.

Beatriz chimes in next.

Label owes you and the pain in the arse, so enjoy it! Have one for me. I’ll be there for you tomorrow with bells on and a tea in hand. Cannot wait for this – so epic. You two are nauseatingly adorbs.

The flight wasn’t crowded thankfully and the room to stretch fully is a welcome bonus. You are able to wind down a lot easier than expected and get a decent amount of sleep especially given it was on a flight, lay flat or not. Despite an extra circle, you land only a few minutes past your initial arrival time, make it through customs quickly and thankfully your luggage is waiting for you once you’re done.

“There she is,” Beatriz calls out as you head out to the open concourse. “And in one piece too with all your bits and bobbles. Good, the boss won’t be angry. And as promised, your tea!”

“Which one?” you chuckle, snagging the iced chai before hugging her.

“I can handle Cez, your man though,” she rolls her eyes as you walk out to the sprinter van. “He tried you last night when we were coming back from dinner, couldn’t get through even though we all told him it was late. He got all sad puppy. You were just about taking off, so it made sense. If he only knew what today is bringing him. I’ll drop you at the hotel, sleep, shower, eat, do whatever. I’ll be round to grab you about 4.”

As soon as you step into his room, you are overwhelmed just by the sheer sense of being back in his space again, despite him not even being there at the moment. You drop your suitcase, strip and crawl immediately into his still unmade bed to surround yourself in the smell of him. Setting your alarm before you drift off, you curl yourself around his pillow and exhale. Only a few more hours and you’ll be able to wrap your arms around him instead of a goose down that carries whiffs of his scent. A deep breath, an inhale you hold just for a moment before letting it go carefully and you’re drifting away.

You wake shortly before the alarm and to a couple texts from Shawn.

Miss you pretty girl. Almost there.

FaceTime after the show tonight? Even just for a few, I can tuck you in from here again like the other night.

Saw this on the drive over before, couldn’t help but think of you.

It was a slightly angled photo out the car window, but it was of a park with a fountain surrounded by high bushes littered with flowers.

I wish I could press you into those blooms and kiss you. Would make such a pretty picture. Love you baby.

You will yourself not to cry. That sweet, sentimental boy of yours. You’ll have time, you need to make that happen tomorrow.

I miss you sweetheart, so much. Yes to tonight, I’d love a tuck in from you. We’re so close. Love you <3

A shower, some primping and a good battle with both your blow dryer and your travel steamer later, you’re finally ready to head out.

“He’s a lucky bastard this one,” Beatriz whistles before handing over your new credential as you slide the van door closed behind you. “Don’t you have any sisters you can send my way? Cousins?”

“Sorry Bea, only child,” you laugh, as the van pulls away. “Cousins are stateside and not your type.”

“He was happy to hear from you before. Stopped in the middle of sound check to look at his phone. Got all stupid smiley and googly eyed,” she rolls her eyes. “He’s so gone on you if it wasn’t so bloody sweet to see him so gushy, it would make me ill.”

“Just wait ‘till later. I should apologize now,” you explain.

“Why there’s no plans for post-show, dearie. We knew better,” she giggles. “Shawn’s not going to want to share.”

You can’t help but smile as you pass the park he sent you the photo of earlier, it’s prettier than his shot let on. You definitely have to go there tomorrow. From that point, it’s a windy way through the streets of Santiago to the arena.

“He should just be wrapping up,” Beatriz prattles, looking at her watch as you make your way through the bowels of the building. “Which is good, I can sneak you into Cez’s room without him sniffing about. You, he, Jake and Con still need to hash everything out yeah?”

“Kind of. It’s the fine tuning of details at this point,” you say, flipping the pass around in your hands before slipping it around your neck as you walk, still not fully grasping you’re going to see him as soon as you are. “It’s a matter of where to go in the pit during his walk up to stage where I won’t be spotted too easily, but also not be in the way of everything either. I think it’ll work, totally up to Jake though. Worse case, we’ll do it just before rally or he hits the stage. Better visuals, and Con will agree with me, but it’s Jake and Cez who have final call.”

“It’s brilliant, all of it. However, here is where I leave you for now,” Beatriz nudges you through the door into Cez’s makeshift office for the next two days. “Need to make sure the sound techs have everything. Fridge is stocked, so steal what you need. He should be back in a few. They’re due to be walking your man now. His room isn’t far, so stay put. I’ll let C know you’re here. Toodles!”

Shortly after you settle in on the couch, engrossing yourself in your inbox, you feel someone settle down next to you.

“Thank god you’re here, I cannot do the sad Shawn shit anymore,” Connor sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I love him like a brother but damn, this go has been a beast when he’s feeling it like that.”

“Hi Connor, I’ve missed you too Connor, it’s good to see you Connor,” you roll your eyes, pushing his arm off you with a poke.

“Yeah yeah, all that too,” he smiles, sliding his arm back into place and kissing your cheek. “It’s good to have you here, all that aside. Despite all that, missed you around these parts.”

“Considering Central America took away our long weekend together, with no warning. It’s just been a hard go this swing. For both of us. May just be the wear and tear of a tour this long finally hitting. Even with as much as we’ve made it a priority to stay more connected and grounded. You guys are lucky it’s the end and it didn’t happen in like the middle of Europe, or the US leg. Though that would have been easier to get to than an almost 11-hour flight,” you fight out.

“You’re too good for him you know?” he teases. “Remember, he has friends if you ever need to bail.”

“Not any of y’all that’s for sure. No way. And, it’s the other way around, Con,” you reply, poking at his knee. “So, you’ve seen the setup, what’s going to make the most sense?”

“We’re going to do whatever you want, missus,” Jake chimes in as the door shuts behind him and Cez. “Only thing I require is a hug.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you say happily, ducking around Connor to get to Jake. “Con, stop being in the way.”

“Thank you,” you murmur to Jake as he pulls you into an embrace.

“We should be thanking you,” he whispers hugging you tightly. “And seriously. We’ll make it all happen. Kid needs this as much as you do.”

You pull away, smiling. “Ok guys so here’s what I’m thinking. Let’s surprise him on the walk out.”

The details come together quickly as well as easily. You’re happy, the team is comfortable with it all. It also helps he’s not expecting a thing. Everyone’s on board.

“So,” Cez begins, rolling a bottle of water around in his hands as everyone else filters out. “Hop a flight on a whim in the states or Canada is one thing. Cross the pond, a little more effort, but doable. This is something else entirely, even for the two of you.”

“I don’t know why this one is so different; I wish I knew; believe me I do. It would have saved me an 11-hour flight,” you utter. “It’s not like we’ve not done it before. We got through this, worse even, when he went out on last leg of the last tour and I had no leverage to take time off to come out other than that last show. We were only together a little bit at that point.”

Cez smiles his all-knowing smile, looking down at your hands playing with your credential. “I think you do, somewhere in there. I think he does too, well I know he does.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask inquisitively. “We’re good, really good. Minus this blip and it’s just us being a little more emotionally wound together. More in the groove than we’ve ever been. It’s been great, actually.”

He smiles yet again, making you wonder even more, and picks up his hand pointing to a certain finger.

“No,” you shake your head.

He nods, still smiling. “You’re practically there already.  We were honestly all surprised it didn’t happen before tour, or at break. Especially after Japan. I knew though not the holidays, it’s too cliché and not him, or you. He’s asked me a few things, more recently. Won’t give away more than that, but it kind of all makes sense. At least to me.”

“I just. Like. Shit Cez,” you sigh, looking down at the lam in your hands. “We’ve talked about it before, couple times. We want it, both of us. He’s it for me, and vice versa. He knows I’ll say yes. I’ve told him as much. But I’m also not that girl that needs the pretty on her hand to know where we stand in our relationship. He’s also not that overly possessive man who needs to prove he’s got me like that to the world, even in his crazy whirlwind of a life.”

“I think it’s both of you really ready for what’s next and this just all happens to be in the way right now. But, you’re here now, which not only is he going to be over the moon about, the rest of us are pretty happy as well. Not just because he’ll be in better spirits, it’s because we love you just as much too,” he states plainly. “You’re as much a part of this, a part of the family. I’m personally glad you’re here for these last few. This run’s been special, you should be here for the end of it.”

“Do not make me ruin my makeup, damnit,” you half laugh, half bite back a sob. “I’m so glad he has you, not just on the road, but in general. I know how much he loves you. I do, too.”

His phone pings rapidly.

“Ten-minute warning for fetching him. Let’s go get you out and set. Phil’s on you until Jake walks out with Shawn,” he states, reaching for his headset in one hand, for you with his other.

You carefully walk down the back hallway towards the stage together. Jake and Phil meet you at the back corner of the build out. Jake hands you off a fresh pair of earplugs.

“You’re going to need these,” he reminds you. “It’s his usual walk, so he won’t expect a thing. Especially seeing Phil at that junction of the barricade, once Phil gets the signal from me that we’re going, he’ll shift behind you so Shawn can spot you.”

You throw him a thumbs up as you wedge the plugs into place. Phil takes your arm in his, his other hand patting your forearm.

“Let’s go surprise him,” he says, leading you out to the pit.

For some reason, probably your conversation with Cez if you’re being honest with yourself, has your stomach set off with butterflies. You’ve not been like this since the early days of your relationship. Excited, always. Happy, without a doubt. Nervous though? No. You try to not shift about, instead closing your eyes to take in the moment. The crowd is loud, you can smell the remnants of the smoke machine test earlier lingering in the air.

Phil taps your shoulder, sliding you into place in front of him.

“He’s walking,” he mouths with a wink.

The house lights come down and the stage lights start to just warm. You exhale and lean back onto Phil slightly, whose hands come to rest comfortably on your shoulders. The opening video starts to roll and the lights hit the pit walk so you know you’ve got about 30 seconds at best before he comes into view. Phil pushes you forward just a touch just as you spot Jake and Shawn with Connor shuffling just behind to get the right angle for the surprise.

He’s in his pre-show zone, not taking in much around him. Jake nudges him though and his eyes shoot up. Shawn looks over towards you, taking a moment for things to register, and when it does his smile is as bright as you’ve seen. His eyes grow wide, he turns to Jake, who nods with a grin and then Shawn takes off in a sprint.

“Surprise!” you try to scream, but he’s already got you in his hold lifting you to swing you around.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, please,” he utters in your ear before pulling you closer, finally getting you back on your feet.

You slide your hands from his shoulders, one to the nape of his neck fingering the wispy curls there, the other to nudge his one in-ear out.

“Not a dream, baby. Very much here, very much real. You got me for the rest of the run, love,” you say directly into his ear. “Go be my Rockstar. I’ll watch side stage, be there waiting for you after the show.”

You pop his in-ear back into place then cup his cheek, watching his eyes roll back slightly.

“I love you so damn much,” he yells before kissing you soundly. “I am so lucky you’re mine.”

Shawn rubs his nose against yours before sneaking in another kiss, then runs up to the stage with Jake on his heels. Jake winks as he passes, throwing a double thumbs up before Phil takes you towards the back staircase so you can set up on the rolling case you know is waiting for you.

The show is electric as always, but he’s got a special energy tonight. You can’t help but feel a bit happy as to probably being the reason why. He’s smiling, sweaty and disheveled, running back towards you in the break before the encore.

“You’re a mess,” you quip with a smile, handing him a bottle of water and a towel.

“Never minded that before,” he retorts back, running a hand through the mess of his hair after wiping his face down with the towel.

“Not the place Shawn Peter,” you say, shooing him away. “Go finish, I’m not going anywhere.”

He drops the water bottle down on the case next to you, stealing another kiss before bopping his way back out.

You hop off the case and head out towards the curtain line to get a better view. His encore covers have been something else this tour. He’s been leaning hard into Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’ and it’s a stunner, especially just him and the piano.

“I had a surprise tonight delivered to me just before the show, a really amazing one actually,” he begins as he settles into playing the piano. “So, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to play something a little special before I get into my last two songs.”

Once he hits the first few chords, your jaw drops immediately.

“You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down. You, you enchant me, even when you're not around. If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down. I'm latching on babe now I know what I have found,” he sings and you can’t help but inch closer to the edge as far as you can go without being spotted or seen. “I feel we're close enough, I wanna lock in your love. I think we're close enough, could I lock in your love, baby? Now I got you in my space, I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace; I'm latching on to you.”

You didn’t expect this the other night, so you very much don’t expect it tonight. You can’t do anything but watch him, enamored and amazed. He sounds breathtaking. The whole song just gives you goosebumps, especially in a setting like this. Damn this boy.

“Thanks for indulging me tonight, Santiago,” he says and you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks, even from there. He immediately segues into Free Fallin’ to get his encore moving, before finishing completely with If I Can’t Have You.

He’s got a hold of your hands the moment he’s out of sight of the audience.

“Did you like it?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss you, feather soft.

“Love it, love you,” you reply, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “Come on, let’s get you back there before they start to think we’re defiling a case on the stage.”

He chuckles, tangling his fingers deeper with yours before leading you towards his dressing room. As you hit the main hallway, most of the band and the crew are waiting there and start whooping and clapping the moment the two of you come into view.

“What the hell?” you question, as he holds your hand tighter trying to make your way down the hall. He shakes his head, cheeks pink as he bites his bottom lip.

“Hold up,” Jake stops you both just before the doorway to his room, arms crossing against his chest and a shit eating grin spread across his face. “Believe you owe this lady a thank you.”

“Hello, the song, on stage, the encore? In front of the whole damn audience,” he retorts, running his free hand through his curls before tugging you towards him and the door without getting you covered in post-show sweat. “Now I’d like to shower, get the heck out of here so I can spend some time with her. Without an audience.”

You can hear the snickers and wolf whistles, it’s your turn to flush. Jake shakes his head no.

“You know what you assholes, fine,” Shawn sighs before rolling his eyes.

“Don’t even with me kid,” Jake smirks.

“I know what you’re…” he trails off but tugs your hand, so you stand closer to him. “Shit. C’mere baby.”

The next thing you know he’s cupping your neck and kissing the breath straight out of you. Your hands fly up, one gripping his shoulder the other tangling in his hair. He pulls away first, just as breathless as you’re feeling.

“You all happy now? Can I please get into my room?” he asks.

Jake moves aside, patting him on the shoulder. He snatches your hand and tugs you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind you both.

“Do I even want to know?” you say, leaning back against the door as he toes off his boots.

“Grander the gesture, bigger the thank you,” he replies, stripping off his button down next, his tank and jeans follow. “They like to tease, you know this. Especially when you and I start getting the way we do. It’s all in good fun, but not when you pull the most epic surprise and I’ve run through a whole damn show. I haven’t seen you in how long and I still haven’t really held you or loved on you the way I want to.”

“Then you best go shower, sweetheart,” you tease. “You know feeling is mutual.”

He darts over to kiss you again, “Be right back.”

He’s quick, which you appreciate, and even more that he’s just in a pair of threadbare, low slung navy sweats when he heads back out to you. He drops the towel in his hand to snag yours, pulling you towards the couch. He flops down first and pulls you immediately down on top of him. He kisses your forehead before scooting you down so your head can rest comfortably on his shoulder. He smells fresh, clean, warm, like him and like home.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you slowly and thoroughly. “Fuck, how I missed you. I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so damn happy that you’re here. You’re amazing you know that? How did you pull this off?”

“Once Hong Kong pushed timeline, I had a little wiggle room, but I wouldn’t be sure until Denmark signed off,” you explain, finger carefully tracing back and forth against his collarbone and shoulder. “I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. Then like a week and a half ago? That night we just couldn’t get timing together I think you were in Panama still. I was up and cranky at stupid o’clock, said screw it. I knew I had some comp time due, had a little vacation time left, plus after Bucharest debacle on their part, they kind of owe me to boot. Called Bea, looped in Cez and voila.”

“You’re making it harder to even come remotely close to do for you what you do for me,” he presses his lips against your hair. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“There’s not a tally, sweetheart. We do for each other, you know this,” you remind him. “You and me, always right?”

There’s a knock on the door and jingling of keys, you go to move but Shawn holds you to him.

“Just gonna be C, we’re not doing anything. You stay put,” he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your ear.  

“Sorry kids, time to get a move on,” Cez calls out from the doorway. “Can I come in? Are you at least PG?”

“It’s cuddling man, that’s all,” Shawn barks out with a laugh as you bury your head into his neck.

“You’ve got about 10 minutes to get yourselves together before the sprinter gets here,” he reminds you both. “We’ve got a curfew in the building overall, so we can’t be late on this one.”

“I’ll make sure he’s ready,” you reply, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Let’s go, you. Need to get your stuff together. Can’t be late.”

“Listen to your girl, Shawn,” Cez remarks. “She’s right. Plus, you’ll be free of us and interruptions once you’re back at the hotel. Late call tomorrow since we’re already set here. I’m leaving the door unlocked and open so no funny bunny ok?”

“Thanks, Cez. See you in a few,” you say, trying to nudge at Shawn.

“You know that means we can go to that park in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his chin once Cez is back out in the hallway. “Upsy daisy dear.”

He sighs dramatically, but with a smile, “Only if you promise a little morning love, breakfast in bed and that park in the morning.”

“You drive such a hard bargain,” you giggle. “It’s a deal.”

He kisses you quickly and loudly before sitting up with you still in his hold, “I can’t wait to get you alone alone tonight.”

“Which would be sooner if you got a move on,” you roll your eyes, poking at his chest while his hands palm you ass.

He stops for a moment though, looks at you softly while not taking his eyes off of you.

“Love you pretty girl,” he declares, hand pushing stray strands of your hair away from your cheek, before holding it in his palm.

“Love you too, Shawn.”  

[soysaucevictim]

First week of my new regimen, starting with the Fireheart Program (and then some of the DAREBEE Fitstivities; a bit late posting all this, too)!

-

Nov. 28

I woke up after 11AM.

After some of the usual and chatting, did today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 40 squat hold side bends with EC. Just about manageable. Does take minding the hamstrings a bit - but that wasn’t an issue.

Last, Day 1 of the Fireheart Program. I was really excited to start this from the recent batch of releases - because it’s a COMBAT exercise program. That’s my jam, man. I went for Level 3 and no rest, today. TEN probably made me inclined to do it in one superset - but remains to be seen if I can sustain that for the whole program.

I also mixed up how I structured some exercises on a whim: sometimes alternating for each rep, sometimes 50/50, sometimes that + balancing variations. (And as a minor aside, this program’s name/theme made me think of Roman Sanders and how he’d be down for this.) :,D

(I’m keeping the docket open for DAREBEE’s Fitstivities - Fit Christmas, Advent Calendar, Christmas Tree, and maybe even the Snowfight.)

Made dinner (ramen). Among the usual, did some chatting and watched a bit of a funny miniseries with friend.

Got to bed later than yesterday.

-

Nov. 29

I woke up around 2PM today.

After some troubleshooting, chatting, and doing some dishes - I did today’s exercises.

First, today’s DD. 40 balance back kicks with EC (20/20). A fun exercise. I almost lost my center about 10 or so reps in - but I’m happy my gains in coordination made it possible to reorient without dropping and needing to restart (for EC). Kicks are fun, man.

Last, Day 2 of the FhP. Today focused on upperbody stuff. Managed Level 3 with no rest again. I decided to squeeze in a few extra push-ups here and there just to get down a bit better form.

Watched the second Back to The Future movie with friend, amongst a lot of the usual. Did a bit of writing too.

Got to bed around the same time as yesterday.

-

Nov. 30

I think I was woken up around 10:30AM.

Hopped in the showered, realizing I had another dental appointment I needed to get to today. Didn’t have time to get in my laundry beforehand - but bro decided to take mine out for me.

Dozed off in the lobby a little, while I waited. Appointment went well enough, a bit painful and uncomfortable. But I’m happy I was able to get through it alright. Last time I’m going to need to get fillings done for the time being - so I’m happy that’s out of my hair. Walked to a nearby Starbucks to get a coffee to drink while I called in and waited on my ride home afterwards.

Got home and chatted a bit, before exercising.

First, today’s DD. 40 raised leg circles with EC (supine). This was just about manageable, despite how tired I was.

Last, Day 3 of the FhP. Ab Day. Level 3, 1′ rest. I love sit-up/sitting punches a lot! I’m still very pleased that my abs are in good enough condition at this point to manage that load of sit-ups without assist/breaks.That being said, started to really feel things in the last 2 sets. Enjoyable and fatiguing.

Did some of the usual before getting a hold of my laundry to put that away.

Probably a testament to just how exhausted I was, but I finally managed to get to bed in the green zone, tonight. (That target being 1AM or earlier.)

-

Dec. 1

I woke up after noon.

Spent some time preparing notes for my phone psych appt today. That went well enough.

After some time chatting and browsing stuff, I decided to rewatch POF while doing my exercises tonight.

First, today’s DD. 2′ jumping Ts with EC. I counted 130 reps by the end, listening to Rhythm Redux was a great pace-setter. Hit a state of bliss near the end, reminds me why I love jacks so much! =w=

Second, Day 1 of the ‘20 Advent Calendar Challenge. 3x1 up/down planks, I opted not to rest, given how easy the load was. Might not get away with doing things in one superset the whole way through it - but we’ll see!

Third, Day 4 of the FhP. Level 3, 30″-1′ rest in between sets (though it trended closer to 30″.) This was pretty fun. Honestly the only brutal part of the sequence were the squat + side kick combos. Kinda felt like the leg-equivalent to a push-up+punching combo (sans hidden burpee). Whew, mission accomplished, though.

Last,  Day 1 of ‘20 Fit Christmas Program. Cardio Day. Level 3, no rest. Low impact and kind of a breezy “cooldown“ routine to get though. Remains to be seen if I’ll be able to get away with no rest the whole way through, definitely want to shoot for Level 2 minimums (largely dependent on how exhaust Fireheart’s gonna leave me).

Spent rest of night on the usual stuff.

Got to bed obscenely late again.

-

Dec. 2

I woke up after 9AM today.

Went out for some coffee and accompanying bro to get his car serviced. Then we hung out at Grandma’s place while that was happening. I also walked over to the facility for group, when it came time for that.

Group went alright, did a little bit of writing a bit before and into it. Once I got back to Grandma’s, after a stop at a convenience store, bro’s car was ready. We picked up some food on the way back home.

One of the first things I did when I got home and situated, I did my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 40 reverse plank kicks with EC (20/20). This was pretty manageable.

Second, Day 2 of the ‘20ACC. 3x2 burpees - I managed it in one superset. This was pretty manageable. And it’s making me wonder about trying to go for that 50 burpees in one go achievement - eh, some other time. :P

Third, Day 5 of the FhP. Level 3, 1′ rest. Did some plank jumps in/out for transitions and did all the punches/strikes 10/10 style. Push-ups were a bit messy, and plank hold counts probs weren’t consistently slow. Ah well. My energy levels were a bit spent going into this.

Last, Day 2 of ‘20FCP. Strength Day. Level 3, no rest. Did contemplate on resting even 30″ or less - but I decided I could one go this today.

Had to overhear another family blow-up. And felt generally overwhelmed. Chatting and usual distractions helped eventually.

Got to bed around the same time as yesterday.

-

Dec. 3

I woke up around 2PM, today. Which didn’t help me in feeling less harried.

I did some dishes and made today’s Hello Fresh meal. Bulgolgi meatballs. I liked it well enough. 

After some chatting about technical stuff (which immediately got pretty stressful) and doing dishes, I did my exercise.

I got in my workout way too late today. but oh well.

First, today’s DD. 40 squat step-ups with EC (20/20). My water table and energy levels probably weren’t terribly happy about it - but I managed to get through it alright.

Second, Day 3 of the ‘20ACC. 3x3 plank walk-outs, one superset. Happy that my stomach didn’t really complain here, otherwise very manageable work.

Third, Day 6 of the FhP. Level 3, 1′ rest. Leg raises were breezy, side planks were pretty intense. Was a bit concerned about doing more floor work with a slightly full stomach, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Last, Day 3 of ‘20FCP. 100 jumping jacks, done in one go. I enjoyed myself here - still noting how far I’ve come when it comes to stamina to be able to do it without too much problem.

I did a bit of writing and got to bed earlier than yesterday.

-

Dec. 4

I woke up after 1PM.

Got some Iced coffee, deposited some cash, and picked up some Subway.

Got home, chatted and whatnot before today’ exercises.

First, today’s DD. 40 knee-in & twists with EC. Fatiguing in the thighs but manageable.

Second, Day 4 of the ‘20ACC. 3x4 V-Ups, no rest. Did contemplate on resting. But 12 I can manage well enough. Enjoyable exercise.

Last, Day 4 of ‘20FCP. Tendon strength Day, no levels, no rest. Just about manageable little sequence to get done!

I spent most of my night chatting and browsing TV Tropes.

Got to bed later than yesterday.

[ectodog]

it’s the 4th anniversary of the premier of vld which of course means i have assembled a rough timeline for my descent into voltron special interest hell. it goes something like this:

- june 10 2016: vld season 1 premiers. i am none the wiser

- january 20 2017: season 2 comes out. this fact is irrelevant to me

- august 4 2017: season 3 happens. still not entirely sure what a “voltron” even is

- mid-august 2017: one of my friends cosplays keith. that’s cool. who’s keith?

- october 17 2017: season 4 arrives. that’s fine i guess

- march 2 2018: season 5 has entered the building. i am vaguely aware that i have known people who watched it at some point. the fandom is apparently “terrifying” but i survived homestuck, so i scoff at the concept and go on with my life

- june 15 2018: season 6 drops. i see a bunch of cool gifs and pretty fanart. coupled with the hype i have absorbed from the lead up to it, i wonder if i should give the show a watch

- june 16 2018: i start watching vld. two (four) episodes in and i love it. i can already tell i’m a hunk kinnie, and this brings me no end of joy

- june 28 2018: within two weeks, i have caught up entirely. i am thriving in the post-s6 hype

- july 20 2018: at sdcc, the Big Reveal happens. shiro is gay. he is a disabled main character of of colour in a wildly popular show for kids, and he is kind and brave and the pinnacle of masculinity, and he is gay. no matter your shipping opinions, this is incredible news and it’s hard to Not ride the high, so why bother trying? they show a trailer and announce the release date for season 7, and within hours a bunch of booted recordings of s7e1 are floating around online

- july 23 2018: my interest level has gotten to the point where i need to make a separate twitter for it, so i do. (fun fact: as of today, less than 2 years later, said twitter has over 7300 posts on it. my main, 4x that old, has ~30k)

- august 10 2018: season 7 is online at 1am my time. im selling at an artist alley all weekend, starting the following morning. i binge half the season anyway before passing out, and completely avoid the internet until i can watch the rest later that day

- october 5 2018: at nycc, the trailer for s8 and release date are revealed. i immediately book the announced day off work because i know i will want to watch the entire thing at once the second it’s out

- mid-october 2018: “leaks” of s8 start appearing online. pretty much no one in the fandom believes them, because no one Likes them. they seem ridiculous. people start making “leakverse” fanworks to feed some of the finale anticipation into, including me. no one really thinks they’re plausible at all

- december 14 2018: season 8 airs. i post a quick but heartfelt fanart before gearing up for 1am. it starts, and i cry. the first time they form voltron, i cry some more. things keep happening, and i keep getting tears on my screen, and i have to pause and start it over and over, but i live tweet the whole thing anyway. the leaks were... real. i come out of it unsure how i feel, exactly, but i am exhausted from the marathon and so immediately pass out

- the same day, after some sleep: im upset and confused as to why the finale season was so hollow. i see im not alone. it’s a rough week, feeling like something i love so deeply let me down so much. i realize it’s only been 6 months since i got into it - but, clinging to a deep sense of betrayal, i cry some more anyway

- the immediate aftermath: there are petitions and accusations of censorship and conspiracies about where the “real” s8 is. it’s hard not to get caught up in, or at least dragged down by, the lack of hype. no one who worked on the show says anything for days, weeks, months. fix it fanwork starts cropping up, and i surround myself in them. none of the excitement from before is there, not the same way it was. i start a new and highly ambitious piece of art out of spite. it’s left unfinished

- january 2 2019: lion forge releases the third volume of vld comics. no one really cares. i certainly don’t

- the intermediate aftermath: it becomes clearer by the day that the season was, simply put, a failure and a flop. no one liked it. kids cried over it and parents had no idea how to explain it to them. the fandom and community dim for a while, but i keep immersing myself in the trove of fanwork that already existed, and i start trying again to make some of my own

- may 29 2019: lion forge comics announces that they are not renewing their license to make more vld comics. that, coupled with the abysmally rated final season, seems to be the nail in the coffin for this iteration of the ip. there won’t be anything else official for vld. somehow, this sparks a renewed interest in me. despite everything, im more dedicated than ever before to preserve and proliferate my good experiences. i know this won’t be a blip in my history as a fan, so i’m determined to be happy with it, as best i can be

- the rest: is, as they say, history. as of now, i have something like 20 fanworks of my own in progress for vld. my ao3 bookmarks number in the 100s, and my to-read list is at over 250. ive made a concerted effort to be more active and engaged in the fandom, because it came so close to fizzling out, for me and maybe for everyone, but it’s brought me so much goodness that i cant and Won’t let that happen, not without a fight

it’s been just under 2 years since i decided to watch voltron on a whim. and it has honestly become a central part of my interests and identity in that time - but for the majority of it, it’s been because of fandom and fanworks, and that’s maybe what made it stick so well to begin with: the creative, varied, amazing parts of it that no network mandate could have offered on its own

this started as a way to catalog my journey into and through vld but honestly it kind of became a love letter to the fandom (at least, my corner of it). that’s what’s made these last years so special - what’s made them simultaneously fly by and feel like a solid constant. a dedicated, talented fan base who are capable of so much more than the constraints of the source material

it’s amazing to look back on, and incredible to keep looking forward to. we’ve all been told - “go, be great”

we have been, and continue to be. like the stars, and like my love for vld, it’s inevitable

so thank you all for the years of “great”. 🖤

[sultrysirens]

Update

So. I’m unreliable. I’ve always known this and very specifically never denied it. Probably the most accurate phrase to describe me would be, “Is a slave to her whims.”

What you may not yet understand is I’m also susceptible to the weather. Not only do I live in Arizona (where “sun” is an understatement) and things have visibly gotten hotter by the year, but I live in a really bad house within a city much closer to the equator than where I grew up, which has no insulation (and, thus, no way to keep cold air inside), a MASSIVE window facing WEST of all the terrible directions, ONE window AC unit that isn’t even in the computer room, AND the house has multiple cracks and splits around the windows and walls to make things easier for the sun to get in and cook things.

Basically, this house is an oven. More heat enters and stays within this house than is outside, and believe me, I’ve checked. The kitchen, in particular, gets boiling by the afternoon, to the point where the outside is cooler. I’ve had close calls with heat stroke just by cooking dinner, after dark, with the back door open and a fan on me. It’s...ridiculously bad.

By the middle of May, I can’t even be in the computer room if it’s not early morning or damn near midnight. That’s how long it takes to cool down to a good temperature for me. My husband is much more tolerant of the heat, so he can sit in here and play video games on his computer with just a tiny fan on him and he’s good, but it’s just way too punishing for me.

Thus, come summertime, I generally have to leave. I can’t take it. I sit in the living room, with a BIG fan on me, and a spray bottle of water in hand to help keep me cool. Last year was particularly bad; the water bottle barely helped at all.

This year, however, I’ve taken more steps to keeping the house cool. Namely, I put aluminum foil on the windows facing east and west, and if things start to get too hot, I’ll shut down my computer so it’s at least not adding to the heat. It’s almost 11 now and it definitely feels better in here than it did yesterday at this time, so hopefully it’ll be enough to make this room livable for me, at least for a few more hours a day.

The reason why I bring this all up is because I haven’t been writing largely thanks to the heat. Not only does it drive me from the computer room, forcing me to use the tablet if I want to do any writing (which is already a major inconvenience), but it makes it hard for me to focus. I’m already very probably suffering from ADHD (should really get tested for that), so I basically become incapable of functioning.

I feel terrible about it, but given I recently had an experience in which I woke up at 1am from overheating and ended up in agony in the bathroom for a good half hour and couldn’t keep down water...yeah, I’m going to have to choose health over productivity.

On the bright side, I’ve been binge-watching Hannibal and it’s given me a lot of creative inspiration. And, possibly even better depending on your perspective, I never really stop thinking about my stories, so this is essentially just open time for planning. And the more time I have to plan, the better the results should be.

I remember several months ago I made a comment about me needing to take a break from writing. I think, at that time, I wanted a break, but I was still too motivated to really stop. Now, however, my perspective has shifted a bit (been drawing more this year than I have the previous two combined), and with this forced abstinence of sorts, I’m actually taking that break now. And I think it’s good for me.

I know it’s bad timing because I know a lot of people use my fics to help get them through day-to-day activities during quarantine, and I wish I could deliver more than I currently do, but we all have to take care of ourselves.

I just wanted to end this by reminding everyone that I do still plan on finishing my stories (the whole Dancer series, namely), and I wanted to assure everyone that even if I’m not writing and posting...I’m still planning. I’m still building, and imagining, and creating. It’s all in my head, and if you’ll be patient with me, it’ll be in digital form before you know it.

See you soon~

- Nightshade