#and then it goes away again after a couple days

[flemingsfreckles]

Trying Again Part 2

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Read Part 1, based off this suggestion, basically this fic just goes through what each month looked like for reader and Jessie once they learned they were expecting.

Warnings: pregnancy fic, morning sickness, discussion of labor/birth (again nothing graphic), suggestive, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), cursing

WC: 3.0k

A/N: this isn’t necessarily a part 2, but it’s kind of a continuation of Trying Again, walking through each month of pregnancy, I’m just labeling it Part 2 because that makes more sense than it being its own fic

Month 1

You nearly miss month 1 just not knowing. You didn’t take the pregnancy test until you were about 3 weeks along. Once you found out Jessie immediately assumed the role of overly prepared parent.

She came home the day after you had given her the positive test with a couple massive shopping bags.

“What on earth did you buy?” You asked her when you saw the pile of bags.

“Just some things. I’ll show you.” She proceeded to unload baby book after baby book on every topic. Books on pregnancy, books on supporting your partner through pregnancy, books on the actual birth process, books on the baby’s first year, books on how to raise a teenager. It was safe to say she had gotten ahead of herself but you couldn’t even fault her. The way she showed you each one with such excitement in her eyes and voice was adorable.

The next bag was filled with other baby items, blankets, clothes, pacifiers, stuffed animals, and a tiny pair of Nike shoes.

“Jessie, the baby will wear those for all of 5 minutes before they fall off and they outgrow them.”

“I know but they’re just so cute and little.” She grinned at the shoes, holding them in her hands. “I can’t believe our baby is going to be this small.”

Month 2

Month two was filled with morning sickness. Jessie is a saint, getting up with you every time, bringing you water and new clothes. She’d gather your hair in her hand, holding it away from your face. She’d get your toothbrush set up with toothpaste and hand it to you once you were done throwing up. She’d help you shower if you wanted to feel refreshed and then she’d tuck you into bed, making sure you were comfortable with a fresh glass of water next to your bedside. She’d hold you tight, in whatever position made you the most comfortable.

Your hormones were starting to jump to extremes. Jessie found you crying on the couch one day over a sock. To be fair to you, the socks didn’t have a match and that upset you deeply. She had held you on the couch while your hand clutched the sock tightly, rubbing your back gently. She then went and found the missing sock. You got angry quickly, she hadn’t told you she was stopping at the store to grab you some snacks and when she got home, later than she had told you to expect her you had been at the door yelling at her. Of course you apologized and also cried when she explained she had just gotten you a little surprise, the basket she held out to you containing snacks, new slippers, some bubble bath, and some baby clothes. You felt guilty for yelling, but you were irritable, tired, and just relatively in a bad mood.

Month two was also when you told your teams. The Chelsea girls first followed by the Lionesses and Canada. Everyone was naturally excited and thrilled for you and Jessie. Niamh was your biggest supporter beside your wife, she was with you on both teams and was Jessie’s eyes and ears when she couldn’t be with you. The girl would get up with you when you got sick, offering you water. She checked in during training, making sure you weren’t feeling ill.

You also both told your families at this time, Jessie’s sister the most excited out of anyone, quick to claim the role of “best aunt”. You were overwhelmed with everyone’s excitement about your baby, you knew they would be so loved by your families both biological and your chosen families you had created.

Month 3

Month three was similar to month two. Your morning sickness continued and Jessie continued to be your biggest support throughout. Your body began to feel more fatigued, you were sleepy all the time, doing nothing but training and sleeping. Jessie cuddled up with you on the couch after training, scratching your back or your scalp. The tiredness also led to more mood swings, you were angry one moment and then crying and then crying tears of joy. Jessie handled it all with grace, you knew you were being a terrible person to her and she didn’t deserve it, but growing a human was a lot of work and it took a huge toll on your body.

Training was becoming harder. Your clothes start to fit differently, your breasts becoming sore that it hurts to run around for long periods of time no matter the sports bra you wore. You were still irritable, the early morning wake ups to be sick did nothing to help your mood. You started to have weird cravings and changes in the foods you liked and disliked.

You had woken up from a nap one afternoon to Jessie cooking what used to be your favorite meal, however when she placed it in front of you, it repulsed you. When Jessie asked you why you weren’t eating it you had to tell her you didn’t want what she made. Jessie of course took no offense to your disgust, getting up from her own plate to immediately start cooking you something else. You cried when she handed you a new meal, overwhelmed with her cooperation and kindness toward you. She just kissed you and told you she’d do anything for you.

It wasn’t an easy month, maybe the worst out of the whole pregnancy but with Jessie’s help and support you made it through, day by day and night by night.

Month 4

Month four was when things settled, your morning sickness started to fade, happening less and less frequently. Month four however was the time when you and your doctor decided it was time to slow down with training and playing. It was a hard couple of days, realizing you were about to take a break from the one constant in your life, but Chelsea was great about it. You still attended the end of season practices and games, just with less and less involvement until you were solely on the sidelines.

You had also developed the sex drive that was through the roof. Jessie would breathe in your direction and you were ready to jump her bones. Jessie couldn’t complain too much about this side effect, she was getting laid everyday. It was fun for her for the first few days. Then she was starting to cramp in her forearms, fingers, her jaw, all sore from the pleasure she was providing you. Her own sex drive was also not affected by hormones; she just wasn’t always in the mood for multiple rounds of sex, every day, but she happily gave you what you needed, often for nothing in return.

Niamh had poked fun to Jessie when the two of you walked in and Jessie looked exhausted while you were grinning ear to ear.

“Long night again?” She bumped Jessie with her shoulder as you walked ahead to your locker.

“Oh my god Niamh, this time it was before bed, then twice in the middle of the night when we were both awake, and then again this morning. My body can only handle so much. I’m sore. I’m sore, from sex!”

“Oh boo hoo Fleming, god forbid your wife wants you to fuck her an insane amount.”

Jessie blushed at Niamh vulgarity. “I know Niamh, and I love her, and she’s literally growing my child, so of course I want to give her everything she needs and wants. And I love having sex with her, but oh my god a person can only take so much, it’s like the second week of this too.”

“Then get something to help.” Niamh shrugged, hoping to help her friend while not upsetting you.

To solve her own pain, Jessie went out and bought you a couple new toys that the two of you could share while preserving her muscles. You were plenty satisfied with the new purchases, enjoying them with Jessie. Jessie was satisfied that she was able to go about her daily tasks and not have her fingers or forearm cramp up on her.

Month 5

This was the month you found out the gender of your baby. You had gone to the doctor to get an ultrasound, when you told the technician you didn’t want to know the gender right away they sealed the reveal in an envelope for the two of you to take and open on your own time. You then gave that envelope off to Magda and Pernille as they were in town, allowing them to set up your gender reveal. They weren’t around as much, you and Jessie had been close with them on Chelsea and wanted them to have a role in your pregnancy. When you asked them to help with this they were ecstatic. You didn’t want anything too crazy or over the top. They had set up a small gathering, you, Jessie, Niamh, Zerica, with Pernille and Magda hosting what made up your small Chelsea family. They had cooked everyone a dinner, making it a nice evening, in addition to the gender reveal.

They had made a cake, covered in a white frosting, the inside cake was dyed pink or blue. You were so excited seeing the cake, you had asked for something simple and not over the top, that’s exactly what they had given you, and it was cake, you loved cake. You and Jessie both held the knife as you cut a slide into the cake while everyone else stood watching, Magda and P watching your and Jessie’s faces, already knowing the gender they didn’t need to watch the knife the way that the rest of you were.

You had burst into tears when you pulled the knife out and the pink tint frosting and cake crumbs clung to the knife. Magda and P both looked horrified at your reaction, not knowing what happened while Jessie, Niamh, and Z laughed. The three of them having a front row seat to your emotional swings everyday at training. Jessie gently rubbed your back through your emotions.

“I’m so happy. I promise.” You really didn’t care what your baby was, you would’ve been an emotional wreck boy or girl. “I’m just so excited.”

Niamh takes the cake and knife away from you, going to cut it up and serve it to everyone. You dry your tears and Z pulls you into a big hug.

“I’m going to make her a keeper.” She whispers to you. “Don’t tell the rest of them.” You laugh into her hug.

Month 6

You were laying on the couch after a long day of doing hardly anything, but everything felt exhausting these days. You couldn’t sleep on your stomach like you usually did. Sleeping on your back was anything but comfortable, and your side wasn’t much better. Your legs hurt, your ankles hurt, your feet hurt, everything was miserable.

You often would just lay on the couch after you and Jessie returned home from training, her practicing, you watching and coaching. Jessie would lay next to you, her hands always finding their way to your belly, gently holding it, drawing circles, she’d lean in, placing her lips to your bump kissing it gently and softly speaking to the baby.

“You’re going to be so loved, you already are so loved. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Jessie had already told the baby about how you two met, all about your first date, how you proposed to her and how she proposed back, she talked about your wedding, she told the baby everything.

Jessie was resting next to you, her ear pressed against your belly as she whispered to the baby, her hand gently caressing your skin. One thing about Jessie was she couldn’t keep her hands off your bump. She always asked to touch you and you always said yes but once you gave her permission, her hands would remain on you as long as she could.

“Hi baby girl”

That’s when you feel it and Jessie feels it. Your baby is kicking. It’s not painful but it’s uncomfortable as you feel the pressure from her foot inside of you.

“Babe?!” Jessie pulls her head from on your stomach, eyes wide in panic as she looks up at you.

“Did you feel that?” You weren’t sure if Jessie felt it outside of your stomach, you felt it inside.

“She kicked! Oh my god she kicked.”

“She kicked!” You exclaimed, bringing your hand back down to where the previous kick had been. Feeling the baby kick again. Jessie looks up at you, her eyes slightly teary.

“That’s our little girl.” Jessie says, her hand on your stomach still, a tear spilling over as she looks at you with love in her eyes. “Our baby.”

You baby kicks a few more times, each time you and Jessie look at each other with big smiles. “With a kick like that she’ll end up a striker like her mama.” Jessie says after one of the stronger kicks she gives you.

“We’ll see, Z said she’s making her a keeper.”

Month 7

You came home from a day out with your own mom to loud noises and voices coming from the extra bedroom that was set to become a nursery. You walk over to the doorway and see your wife, hammer in one hand, the other holding paper instructions. You look further into the room and Niamh, Sam and Zerica are all standing holding various pieces of wood and hardware.

They’re all silent, staring at you as you step into the room.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” Jessie looks up at you from the floor. She looks concerned at your early arrival.

“I know but I was starting to not feel great so I had my mom drop me home. What are you all doing?” You look between your three teammates and wife. You’re pretty sure you can figure out what they’re doing but ask anyway.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, we were getting the nursery ready.” Jessie explained to you.

“We’re building the crib.” Sam pipes in, she holds out the piece of wood she’s holding.

You walk further into the room, reaching over to grab some of the tools wanting to help out.

“No!” Jessie says as she bats your hand away from the tools. “Sit there.” She points to what you assume is a newly built rocking chair. “You can watch and yell at us, but no helping, you need rest.”

“Fine.” You sit down on the chair hesitantly, you trusted Jessie when it came to following instructions and building something correctly but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of your teammates. The chair held you, it was surprisingly comfortable. Niamh brought over an ottoman for your feet to rest on and they all got back to work. You watched as the previously empty room became filled with wall decorations and furniture. The girls would ask where you wanted certain pictures or items within the room, it was nice to be involved while not straining yourself too much.

Month 8

You have the baby during the eighth month. 8 months and 3 weeks and a day to be exact. She arrives a little early, no concern to your doctor but her slightly early arrival has Jessie stressing in the hospital room.

“Is it too soon?”

“Babe, the doctors said it’s practically like she’s coming at full term, it’s okay. She’s just 6 days early.” You’re nearly sick from watching Jessie pace laps back and forth across your room. Her hands are either in her hair, picking at her skin, or playing with her shirt, all nervous habits.

Unfortunately your labor was anything but easy. You had started contractions in the middle of the night, you and Jessie rushing to the hospital with nothing except the perfectly packed hospital bag your wife had made.

Despite the rough labor, Jessie was the most perfect partner to have during labor. She did well under stress, despite her earlier nerves once you were actually ready to have the baby she was level headed again. Jessie was attentive to you, bringing you ice chips, new blankets, rubbing your feet, rubbing your back. She was advocating for you whenever the opportunity arose. When you decided you wanted an epidural after trying to tough out the pain for 7 hours, she didn’t question you, she happily held your hand as the medicine was put in your back.

It wasn’t until 12 hours after you had gotten to the hospital that your baby girl made her arrival. Jessie let you squeeze her hand so hard you were convinced you were going to break it and she never complained once. She helped you by holding one of your legs as she pressed her forehead to yours, whispering words of encouragement and praise. She occasionally would look, wanting to see her baby girl despite her being adamant that she wasn’t going to look prior to arriving at the hospital, she was worried about getting queasy, she didn’t always do well with blood.

When your daughter finally came out crying they placed her quickly onto your bare chest quickly followed by a blanket.

“You’re incredible. That was amazing, I love you.” Jessie whispered with tears running down her face. Her eyes look between you and your daughter on your chest. You got to watch as Jessie cut the umbilical cord, a huge grin across her face.

Nurses then took your daughter, cleaned her up and swaddled her into a soft pink blanket. They come to hand back your daughter to you, you look over to your wife who’s patiently standing watching you, she hasn't yet gotten to hold your little girl.

“You want to hold her?” You ask and Jessie just nods at you. The nurse passes Jessie the bundle with your daughter wrapped inside.

You watch as Jessie holds your daughter for the very first time, you get emotional, tears welling up. Jessie looks up to you, her eyes matching yours, on the brink of tears.

“Thank you for making me a mom.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt #canwnt x reader

[synthetickitsune]

Petty ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader Genre: angst/fluff Summary: Joshua can be a bit petty when he's tired and feels wronged. Even if he's at fault all along. Word count: 2.3k A/N: please get me out of here, i've been in shua brainrot since january and this is once again @hanniedream's fault >:(

Joshua has never hated your bedroom more than he hates it at this moment.

The room is too big. The walls are the wrong color. The windows are too big and it feels like the whole world can see him and laugh at him. The bedroom should be the only room in your house. It wouldn’t be so empty then.

The bed is too big to be sleeping in it alone. It’s cold. The sheets feel like ice around him, no matter how tightly he wraps himself in them, and his arms are empty even though your scent lingers on your pillow. He won’t be as pitiful as hugging it to sleep, he refuses. 

Where are you anyway? 

Pout pulls on his lips without his permission as he strains his ears but he can’t hear a single sound. He checks the clock again, then checks one more time that he’s not seeing wrong. You should be here by now. He accounted for everything - how long your night routine takes, a little snack if you felt like it, the time you’d need to be away from him after the fight, the time you’d waste on thinking whether you should hang onto the resentment or not. You should be here already. You should’ve been here ages ago. So where are you?

It goes against his pride that he gets up and makes his way to the living room where he expects you’d be sulking. And you are there - sleeping soundly.

He huffs in disbelief, hands on his hips as he watches you sleep while he can’t even keep his eyes closed. Does he mean nothing to you? How can you sleep without him?

He has half a mind to wake you up - he walks up to you and leans down, still undecided whether he should do it. What would he say? He can’t admit he can’t sleep without you, so he’d just look like a dick. Besides, you sleeping here means you’re still upset, so you wouldn’t come to bed anyway. Then he notices the dried tears in the corner of your eyes. 

He frowns, any thoughts of waking you up gone from his head. Were you actually mad? The argument wasn’t long or, in his eyes, that big of a deal. True, he was also quite exhausted, so it’s kind of foggy and he knows he was a bit too harsh. He also admits he was in the wrong, a fact he realized during the first two hours of his tossing and turning when he remembered that the events happened differently from what he initially thought. But it wasn’t a big deal anyway… You don’t usually cry over petty arguments. And he knows better than to hope for any sleep now.

Joshua leaves for the bedroom quietly, sighing once he lies down in bed. The pout tugs on his lips again. He feels wronged too. You could’ve just told him instead of immediately getting defensive and calling him wrong when he just didn’t remember at the moment. Why would you cry? Was he really that mean? He doesn’t think he was. He tries to sleep, but over what remains of the night, he can’t get more than a couple minutes of sleep at the time.

Safe to say it didn’t exactly help his sour mood that he didn’t rest at all. As soon as he decides to get up for the day, he struts into the kitchen and starts on boiling the water for his coffee and taking out things to prepare himself breakfast.

“What the fuck, Joshua?” you groan from the adjacent room, voice dripping with annoyance and hostility. Of course the noise would wake you up. And now he can’t exactly explain why he thought he’d get his usual morning greeting - well he didn’t think at all, but now that the routine is broken and not one nice word is spoken to him, he pauses. He swallows uneasily thinking of how it usually goes - waking up with you in his arms or you hovering above him, wishing him a good morning with the sweetest kisses. Not this.

He snaps out of his, his pettiness wavering a little, but not enough. He was in the wrong, but you could’ve explained that to him more yesterday. Not like he was in a state of mind to listen to you, but you could’ve tried… He’s too tired for this.

So he keeps doing his thing, taking out the vegetables to cut. He notices you disappearing into the bedroom, to change and freshen up he supposes. It doesn’t feel great to have you walk away from him without another word.

He’s cutting vegetables when you return. At this point he doesn’t expect much, but he also doesn’t expect you to walk straight past him, barely stop the cupboard door from hitting his head when you take out your mug. He also feels something die inside him when you pour the boiling water into only one mug, making a drink for yourself despite there being enough water for both of you.

His focus is more on you than the knife in his hand, which is not the safest thing when he’s trying to cut the carrot, but he needs to be ready and catch every word you’ll say. Because you need to say something, right? Wrong, apparently. You’re just sitting there sipping your coffee and scrolling on your phone without paying any attention to him. Does he not matter to you?

He wants to get angry, wants to heave a long and angry sigh, slam the knife down and confront you - but that’s not him. It does cross his mind, he just can’t do it. It’d scare you and it’d make him feel like one of those stereotypical angry husbands and that’s the exact opposite of what he wants. Opposite of what he should do if he wants to ever have the chance to call himself your husband.

He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. This situation was ridiculous. He can’t go another day without a proper sleep and he doesn’t think he can get through breakfast with you ignoring him. Was Joshua’s pride really more important than you? No. Of course not. Especially not when it was all so stupid and ultimately his fault. 

“I was wrong,” he sighs, he finally puts the knife down before he can cut his finger off, “I’m sorry.”

He turns around, and after what feels like eternity you’re looking at him. You sigh too, rubbing your eyes. Properly seeing you now, he notices you must’ve had a restless night just like him. It makes the last remains of his pettiness dissipate. He opens his arms cautiously, hoping, wishing… You get up and hug him back, let him hold you as he wraps his arm around your middle and cradles your head with the other one. Finally he feels like he can breathe.

“I’m glad you apologized,” you rub his back, and fortunately you don’t flinch away when he kisses the side of your head. He hums sheepishly, squeezing you a little tighter. “I was really frustrated with you. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, you could’ve already apologized yesterday.”

“I know,” he acknowledges. Looking back, he shouldn’t have brought out the issue out of nowhere in the first place. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I wasn’t mad, just frustrated,” you repeat, “It’s fine now.”

He nods, letting you go just enough that he can kiss you properly. His morning feels much better immediately. You smile at him and he’s wondering why would he ever do anything to threaten that smile. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has you back in his arms, but he’s hungry and he thinks you must be too. “I’ll make breakfast for us, hm?”

You free yourself from his embrace rather than him allowing you to pull away. His reluctance shows in his hands taking hold of yours and bringing them to his lips, lingering. You give him a reassuring smile and only then does he let go. 

What you notice before going back to your chair, before moving from the spot, is Joshua looking at your cup on the table in a way that you can only describe as a puppy watching his favorite toy spinning in the washer. You don’t think he noticed you saw, or that he meant for you to see at all, and it takes a lot not to start laughing. It does give you some satisfaction, though, to know that the argument and his own mistake didn’t leave him unaffected. His shoulders are still slumping and he looks so down you’d think you didn’t make up already. 

“Joshua?” you call his name and he quickly turns his head towards you as soon as he puts the knife down again. You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder. “Should I make you a cup of coffee?”

“Yes please, thank you,” he beams at you, eyes turning into crescents when you kiss his cheek.

You pull out a mug, conscious of his eyes following your every movement. Something about your choice of the piece of ceramics must be not up to his standards if his displeased grunt is any indication. However when you look at him, he only gives you a small smile.

“What’s wrong?” you cross your arms over your chest. He grows timid, looking away. You roll your eyes. You’re almost sure you’re being played for attention, but you will give him the benefit of a doubt this time because he seemed genuinely sorry for the fight. It’s cute how he melts into you when you hug him from behind, your hands resting on his stomach. 

“What about the matching ones we got for Christmas instead?” he mumbles almost too quiet for you to hear.

“I already have my own cup though,” you frown.

“You need to make a new one,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

“Huh?”

“We’re gonna restart this morning,” he explains calmly, “I won’t be an asshole and we’ll have a nice breakfast together with our cute matching cups.”

“You called them cringy before.”

“Don’t ruin the vision,” he warns playfully. You hold his gaze, hoping he’ll cave but he doesn’t. You break first.

“What am I supposed to do with the other cup though?” you laugh at your ridiculous boyfriend, but he’s not done being unreasonable.

“Bring it to me,” his tone is suspicious, so you have no idea why you listen. You get to watch as he downs the rest of your morning drink in a few long gulps and puts the cup in a sink. “There, problem solved.”

“Joshua Hong, you’re insane,” you sigh. You’re smiling though - so it’s his win anyway. He won and now he’ll get to watch you boil more water and prepare coffee for both of you, because you need to match one hundred percent of course. It’s still not the safest to cut vegetables when he’s so distracted but his fragile heart is practically jumping off his chest when you take out the very cheesy matching Christmas cups and set them down. “Stop staring.”

“I need to make sure you’re doing it right,” he teases. He’s happy that everything is fine, happy that his morning returned to normal and happy that-

“Do you think I can’t?” you quirk a brow at him, pausing the preparations. 

He swallows and nearly trips over his over feet closing the distance between you and cupping your face in his hands. 

“No, baby, I’m so sorry,” he frowns, kissing your forehead and lingering there, waiting for your verdict. He hears you sigh and his chest feels thigh.

“You’re so cute, Shua,” there’s a smile in your voice and his heart skips a beat when he hears his nickname, “I’m not upset, I’m just playing with you.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he whines, burying his face into your shoulder. His arms wrap around you and you’re stuck between his body and the counter, trapped in his hug. All you can do is hug him back and press some kisses to his neck.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you smile, “How about I finish the coffee, hm? Then I can hug you and cling to you to make up for it.”

“I made you upset first,” he mumbles. You roll your eyes at his sudden self-awareness. He pulls away to look at you, a slight pout on his lips. “But you took advantage of that. I think I deserve a kiss as well.”

You should’ve known it was all a manipulation tactic.

But knowing or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you kiss him and smile against his lips as you do when you feel him smile too. He doesn’t let go until he’s had his fill, until he leaves you breathless and chasing after his lips. 

“I missed you,” he whispers, coming back for just one more kiss, “Hurry up with the coffee.”

You should scold him. You should remind him that he is the reason why your morning is so messy.

But you don’t. 

Instead you do exactly as he told you and enjoy having him close again once the coffee is done. And you enjoy as Joshua feeds you the first piece of breakfast for a taste test, and you enjoy him pulling out a chair for you, bringing you your plate, and holding your hand the entire time you eat.

Most of all you enjoy his warm embrace when you lay down for a nap that won’t make up for the cold and lonely night, but that feels heavenly nonetheless.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #joshua scenario #svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #joshua angst #svt angst #svt x reader

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Late night calls || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ANGEL - Toby Mai

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: Days when you're apart are always tough. They get lonely without your other half. Nightly calls make those days slightly better. Especially when he falls asleep after a tiring day.

Word count: 822

Masterlist

Your phone starts ringing. Jack’s contact name shows up on your phone. You answer the call and the familiar sound of the call getting connected chimes. “Hi, baby.” Jack’s tired voice rings out through your phone. You get comfortable in bed before replying. “Hey. You looked great today. How are you feeling?” You ask softly after praising him. He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s a win, so I feel great. You were watching? I thought you said you were going to be busy.” You hum in response. “I was.” You pause, a cheeky grin forming on your face. “But I happened to be watching when you scored.” You can already tell he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. “I’m glad you were watching for a few seconds.” He retorts. You laugh, “come on. I might be busy, but I’ll always be watching you play when I can.” He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he smiles behind the phone. He’s immensely grateful that you always manage to watch him play, whether that’s on the TV or laptop, or when you show up at the home or away games sporting your devils’ jersey with the number 86 and the name Hughes.

He yawns quietly. “Thank you for watching. Wish you were here though.” He says softly. “Want to switch to video call? I want to see your pretty face.” He adds. You chuckle but press the camera button, requesting to change the call to video. He instantly accepts. His face fills your screen. He shifts in bed before propping his phone up on an extra pillow. He smiles when he sees you wearing his shirt to bed. “Are you tired?” You ask quietly, concern laced in your voice. He blinks a few times, trying to blink the sleep away. “A little. I’m fine though, I’m not falling asleep on you.” You raise an eyebrow. Knowing him, he’ll be doing the exact opposite. “Alright, if you say so. If you’re tired you don’t have to stay on call with me. We can talk some more in the morning.” You offer him. He immediately shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I miss you.” He says stubbornly. Your heart swells at his last comment. You miss him too, a lot. You’re not apart from each other often. You’re usually by his side whenever he goes away on his roadies. However, this time you had some affairs that you needed to deal with. Hence why you didn’t go with him.

You talk for a while as the night becomes darker by the hour. You can see that he’s starting to fall asleep. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.” You try convincing him. He hums, “in a little bit.” He says stubbornly yet again. A couple of minutes pass while you’re talking about your day. You realize it’s getting quieter and quieter on his side. The occasional hums and shuffling from him turn to pure silence. You look at him through the screen. Only to see his eyes closed, arms tucked into him, and his mouth slightly agape. He’s sleeping. He actually fell asleep on you. Even though he so stubbornly told you he wasn’t going to. He did end up doing the opposite. You don’t hang up on him and you certainly don’t wake him up. He had a long day, so it’s no surprise he fell asleep. It’s oddly peaceful having him sleep on the other side.

You continue scrolling through social media on your phone. Having the video call minimized in the corner of your screen. Eventually, you feel yourself growing more tired. Sometimes you hear the occasional snore coming from him while he sleeps. You close the app and return to the video call. “Good night. I love you.” You mumble quietly, to not wake him up. He lets out a murmur but stays asleep. You cover your mouth to minimize noise as you let out a chuckle. You leave the call and place your phone on the dresser. You close your eyes. Before you know it, you’re asleep yourself.

The next morning you’re greeted by a flurry of texts from him. You smile to yourself and shake your head. You hope this boy never changes. He’s the reason you wake up with a wide smile.

I fell asleep

Sorry baby didn’t mean to

Did you sleep well at least?

I’m going off to morning skate in a bit

Remember to eat well since I know you like to skip it even though it’s not good for you

I’ll call you later

I love you

You put your phone down after replying to him. You get up and start getting ready. You should get started on your day. He’s returning home in a few days. You can’t wait for that day. You have so much to tell him that a phone call won’t do justice, and you’re sure he feels the same way.

#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #drabble #fluff

[rainba]

Animalistic Instincts ღ

a/n: I just wanted to write a small thing about Luka being in heat some more... Particularly his breeding kink~ I made this one a fem reader, but if anyone wants a male version of this, I'd be happy to write it! ( ´ ▿ ` )

For this, reader is implied to be living with Luka.

TWs: breeding kink, dubcon (?), silencing via fingers shoved in mouth, dirty talk, unwanted pregnancy on darling's end, Luka being Luka.

NSFW, 18+ only!

Luka is a man who typically never loses his composure. He’s almost always calm, careful, manipulative, and smart to some degree. It’s something that he takes pride in.

…However, as a man born half-fox, there are days where the animal within him likes to take control. Every year when winter rolls around, that’s when his heat takes over him. And when that happens, he can no longer think for himself– he just goes wherever his dick takes him.

There are some times where he can be rational. Luka can still reasonably cook, clean, work, and take care of both you and him. However, he needs to fuck multiple times between tasks, which is a little inconvenient. He can still function overall, though.

But… There are days where his mind turns into total mush, and all he can think about is fucking you raw.

Luka knows that it’s gonna be a rough day when he wakes up and his first thoughts are centered around how badly he wants to breed and get you pregnant.

God, the idea of it all sounds so damn enticing to him. He’ll fuck you over and over again until you can’t walk, stuffing you full of his hot seed as he lovingly rubs your stomach. He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’ll be when you’re all swollen and big while carrying his children. Luka will take extra-good care of you every step of the way… He’ll spoil you like a princess.

“We’re going to have so many kids,” He’ll growl darkly as he savagely thrusts his cock deep inside of you, shoving his cum further in as he locks your hips in place. At some point, you’ll lose count of how many rounds of sex you’ve had. 

“We’ll make a huge family.”

If you whine and tell him that you don’t want any kids, he’ll silence you by shoving his fingers deep inside your throat. You obviously don’t mean that…! You’re just a little confused and worn-out, that’s all. So instead of whining and saying things you don’t mean, how about you suck on his fingers and take his cock like a good girl?

After a couple rounds have passed and you’re thoroughly tired and overstimulated, Luka will start to slow down… But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he’ll just lay you down on your side and he’ll curl up behind you, raising one of your legs as he sensually fucks your pussy from the back. His breath is hot and heavy as he buries his face into your neck.

Luka's cum would be, quite literally, overflowing out of you and spilling onto the bed, but that doesn’t stop him. The animal inside of him demands that he keeps going until he physically collapses.

Also, it doesn’t matter if you feel all hot, sweaty, and disgusting– Luka downright refuses to let you take a shower. However, he will let you lay in bed as he takes a wet rag and wipes you down. His one rule is that you’re absolutely not allowed to clean up his cum. If you wash it out, then that means you’re lowering the chances of getting pregnant...! Right?

Afterwards, if you still cry at the thought of getting pregnant, he’ll kiss away your tears while reassuring you that everything will be okay– and that there’s nothing to worry about! Bearing his children can’t be that bad… If anything, it’ll be a wonderful experience! Don’t you worry your pretty little head, he’ll spoil you rotten for the next 9 months. ~

…But when tomorrow rolls around, if his mind isn’t mush anymore, the delayed post-nut regret will hit him like a speeding train. He’d consider giving you a morning-after pill, but… Honestly? Even when he’s not insanely horny, the idea of starting a family with you sounds nice. So, he wouldn’t give you it unless you genuinely begged him to.

#luka posting #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines

[chosokamosbf]

(N)SFW JASON TODD / RED HOOD HCs.

☆ 18+ only/no minors.

WARNINGs: 18+, gn (gender non-implied)! reader, daddy/mommy kink, mentions of abuse (jason nor reader are doing it), minor mention of blood, sub/dom, pain play, fear play, "prey/predator," brat taming, reader is referred to as "prince(ss)" and "sweetheart" once.

WORD COUNT: 900-ish+

Based on canon, I firmly believe he's on the ace spectrum, specifically demisexual. And even then, he rarely experiences sexual attraction at all for his partners. This isn't because he doesn't love them (enough) or any other assumptions similar to that; it just doesn't happen much.

Furthermore, as much as he'll indulge you here and there if you do, (sexual) intimate moments with Jason would be far and few between, making them all the more important to him.

He's a switch, leaning on dom and top. Mostly because he likes the control and is more comfortable that way. Getting him to be submissive instead is a gradual endeavor. He doesn't hate it; it just takes a lot of patience and trust.

First and foremost on actual kinks, I think Jason has a thing for "daddy," both on the receiving and giving ends. He likes the title, and he's definitely the type to whisper something like, "C'mere, sweetheart. Give daddy a kiss." in even private, innocuous moments just to mess with you.

(Note: I don't think he'd have as much of a mommy kink because—y'know.)

Rough sex is a top favorite of his. This goes hand in hand with play wrestling as a form of foreplay, breathing heavily down on his partner just to continue that energy into bed with sweat-slick bodies. It's less about "winning," and more about being allowed to confide in someone in a way and the fun that can come with it. He wouldn't be against being the sub in this situation either, even if his partner is weaker than him, because he knows how important control can be in bed, so he'll let them win. Sometimes. He trusts you, and he wants you both to feel good.

Degradation/praise wise, he'll give either out depending on the moment. He's going to tease and utter dirty shit like, "C'mooon, prince(ss). You're sounding like a real whore for someone who didn't want it a couple minutes ago—" if you tried to struggle against. It depends more on the moment than position because he could be pounding into you and huffing out praise right next to your ear with what little air he's catching, to riding you, telling you to keep up while his head is already thrown back.

He enjoys pegging a lot, but as always, it's going to take some convincing to get him to comply.

Brat taming is another go-to of his, along with sub/dom. On the other end, it seems to be a near equal opposite—he's not into it, and it can get uncomfortable real fast. There's a few times he'll indulge himself, and they're all after more intense days to sort of solidify the trust he has in you. You're not going to hurt him; he's still in control in a way.

He doesn't seem like he'd like being on the receiving end of any sort of pain play. He already deals with chronic pain on a day-to-day basis. To have it overwhelm one of the few aspects of intimacy that he loves and simultaneously take his head off things for once just doesn't seem like it'd be enjoyable for him. No, on the giving end—

(Note: I'm not into pain play myself, nor do I even know what even makes it enjoyable for people, so I'll be segmenting this with fear play and "prey/predator.")

It wouldn't be something he'd ever bring up, far from it, but if it's what you like, he'll gladly take a knife in a steady hand to softly trace it down from your stomach to your underwear. In a smile almost cruel, he'd drag it across just enough so a few drops could be licked back up if you asked nicely enough again.

Jason knows you're just asking for it if you're weaker than him and bring up the idea of a different kind of foreplay. He'd pick a place, somewhere with a lot of spots you could try to hide away and run to (an abandoned office of sorts is the best go; he's not going to risk infections).  Just for him to stalk, pin you down with ease. If the spot he found his little prey in isn't satisfactory (or clean) enough, he'd have no qualms settling you over his shoulder like a sack and manhandling you where he wants it.

He definitely isn't going to go too far, though. As well-trained as he is, he's going to be especially attentive after any scenes involving that. Sadism isn't a big one for him. He'll enjoy it in the moment but then feel real guilty afterwards, so, just as a reminder, aftercare goes both ways.

I don't know why some people think he's into "dark" (ex. pedo stuff such as ageplay and actual rape.) kinks when he's canonically and literally has hunted down murdered several (sexual) abusers before. If you try to break boundaries, he's going to be reconsidering the relationship, and quite possibly if he even knew you as a person.

On a lighter note, consent is a big thing for him, and he's also big on aftercare. A go-to would be a bath for the both of you (stuffing the sheets in the washer right before and bandaging any "scratches" if need be.), then cuddling. Depending on whether he has the energy, he'll pop something in the microwave real quick. (Takeout is usually a last resort because the last thing he wants while enjoying the afterglow with a partner is social interaction with a stranger.)

If you wear make-up and it gets ruined by the end, like in the latter part of the previous section, if he can, he's going to help you wipe off the mess and maybe help you reapply it as a form of care.

#i am so sorry . for the truck load of tags coming up #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gn reader #dc comics x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x gn reader #red hood dc #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #dc comcis #mine #daddy kink tw #fear play tw #abuse mention #gn reader

[loveinhawkins]

for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.

#i’m so obsessed with the last days of school as a setting #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[ladykailitha]

How I would do a sugar daddy/sugar baby AU. (I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me *side eyes the omegaverse*)

I've seen this well done in this fandom, I'm not saying I haven't, but of the ones I've seen they tend to be omegaverse or mafia/shady sugar daddy.

And I want thirty year old rockstar!Eddie with twink Steve. I said what I said. I think we forget that for the most part Steve isn't beefy. When he's "bulked" up, it's his clothing (Eddie's vest) or its his thighs that are "thicc". But Steve (Joe Kerry in particular out of the role) is thin.

So we have rockstar!Eddie with Corroded Coffin touring the country and doing a couple of dive bars because that's where they got their start and hitting up The Hideout, because again that's where they got their start.

Steve, who recently got kicked out of his parents house because he came out with liking men (gay, pan, bi don't care) and lost his job because again with the liking men thing (small town homophobia for the loss!)

So with his last twenty dollars, he decides to hit up on the local bar and drink away his troubles and maybe even get laid for a warm place to sleep tonight.

He gets dressed in his sluttiest clothes. Crop top, cut off booty shorts, sparkly blue sneaks.

Only he shows up on the night that Corroded Coffin is playing. After paying what he thought was a stiff cover charge (was actually a ticket to see the show) he gets in. He has less money than he hoped but he can only hope that someone is willing to buy him drinks.

He settles in next to the bar and realizes his mistake. The rest of the patrons are dressed in metal gear. Leather, black denim, and lots of chains. Steve doesn't just stick out, he sticks out like a prep in a metal concert.

But he can't afford to go anywhere else, and hopes he doesn't get too harassed tonight. So he keeps he head down and hopes of the best.

Only what he doesn't know is that he has caught the eye of the frontman and lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson. The fact that Steve stands out isn't a detriment, it's a perk.

He wants to find out everything about this boy who stumbled into his enclosure.

The rest of the band is rolling their eyes.

Eddie sends out one of the PAs to make sure that all of Steve's drinks go on Eddie's tab and spends the whole concert watching this guy.

After the concert Eddie sidles up to him and they get to talking. Immediately he picks up that Steve is not old enough to be there. So now he's worried he's under age.

They head out for a smoke and Steve admits that he's not twenty-five like the fake ID says, but nineteen. He shows Eddie his real ID as proof and Eddie is relieved.

They start making out and Eddie takes him to his hotel room to have sex.

In the morning, Eddie asks if he can take him home and Steve starts sobbing. He tells him about his shitty day with shitty parents and shitty boss.

And Eddie's bleeding heart immediately goes out to him and tells him to stay at the hotel for as long as he needs, order room service. Just no booze.

Steve pouts at that but agrees. That as long he stays at the hotel he won't buy booze on Eddie's dime.

Eddie gives Steve his phone number if he needs anything. He transfers the hotel room over to Steve's name, gives him a sultry kiss goodbye and leaves to finish his tour.

Steve doesn't have anywhere else to go and is not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he stays at the hotel. He gets to spend time in the luxurious bathroom with it's fancy shampoos and conditioners and hot tub like bath.

He finds that Eddie keeps sending him clothes and jewelry and suddenly the rich life style that he had with his parents pales in comparison to the extravagant lifestyle Eddie is providing for him.

Through all this Steve is still looking for a job as he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. But news hadn't gotten around town that he was gay and even people he thought he could trust are telling him that they can't hire him.

Eventually he gives up. He talks to Eddie all the time and whenever he feels discouraged Eddie will send him something pretty to cheer him up.

Finally Steve catches the fairy that had been leaving things in his hotel room when he's in the shower or out on the town.

Her name is Robin Buckley and she's a summer intern. Her uncle knew a guy who knew a guy that got her the job. She actually loves it, but she has one more year of high school and her parents won't let her drop out to be a PA for a rockstar.

They're concerned that he'll take advantage of her. Robin thinks it's funny because she's gay. Steve thinks it's funny because Eddie's gay and not into under eighteen year olds.

He tells her his story and over the summer they become best friends. Robin had heard that the Harrington boy had run off so imagine her surprise when Eddie's management had her deliver things to his hotel room. Staying in a hotel room in Hawkins is hardly running away.

Eddie comes back and just continues to throw money and gifts at Steve but doesn't ask for sex again. It's not until Steve tells him that he didn't fuck Eddie for his money or even for a warm bed at that point when he went back to the hotel with him, it was because Eddie cared. And god was that sexy as hell.

When Robin graduates Eddie hires her to be Steve's PA and the pair of them get to travel the world with the band as besties.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #sugardaddy #sugarbaby

[nightsmarish]

hiiiii this maybe weird but could i request a wolfstar x reader and she has like a lovey stuffed animal from when she was a baby she still needs to sleep with that she was trying to hide from the boys and how they’d react to finding out?? I love your writing :)

Poly!wolfstar x reader (Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Reader) | 700+ words

A/n: a little short than I planned, but that's okay. Thank you for requesting, boo!

Tw: sleepy Remus, anxiety, first time the boys sleep at ur flat, kinda modern-ish, werewolf thing in implied a secrete r doesn't know? Kinda like a mid fic at best

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

Most couples sleep over at eachother houses. It's completely normal. But, despite that fact, the nerves are eating you alive.

It was agreed before hand that the boys would crash at your place after your date. It is extremely late since the drive-in double feature ended at 2 a.m., and your apartment is much closer than Remus and Sirius' flat. Which means you've had ample time to hype yourself up, to tell yourself they won't judge you for sleeping with that bloody stuffed animal.

But now? Sitting in the passenger seat of Sirius' car with Remus half passed out with the nearly illegal amount of blankets and pillows the three of you brought? Your very not prepared for them to see the small stuffie.

Everyone stayed rather quiet throughout the car ride. Remus was already tired before the movies, probably because the moon was a few days ago, but you have no real conformation that affects him; all just speculation you've made the past few months of dating the boys. And Sirius is coming down from a sugar high, which leaves him calmer and more tired than usual. As well, with the added fact that he doesn't want to disturb your shared boyfriend as he goes in and out of sleep.

And the quietness stayed when the car parked infront of your apartment complex. Grabbing the blankets and pillows and helping a groggy Remus to his feet, the three of you manage to make it safely into your flat.

And while the boys just happen to conveniently be a bit distracted on assessing what blankets and pillows will be used to properly sleep in your bed, you sneak away to the bedroom.

There, laid out in the middle of your bed lays the little creature you've had for probably too long. You scurky on over to it and grab it, trying to quickly find a place that is both safe and well hidden for the night.

But, alas, one does not simply walk away from Sirius Black and expect him not to follow.

"Whats that, love?" Your shorter boyfriend stands in the door way, fluffy, dark green blanket in his arm. Behind him, in the living room, Remus is fighting, a little lazily, with two blankets that got tangled together.

"Wha-?" You glance down at the plushie in your hand, "This? Nothing. Nothing, why?"

Sirius quirks a brow, and dear Salazar, he can be intimidating; it's like his gaze is boring into your soul.

"Pads, leave 'em alone." Remus joins him in the door way, successfully having one of the two blankets.

"I'm not doing nothin' just wanna see who will be joining us tonight." He walks further into the room, throwing the green blankets onto the bed. Turning to face you again, gently grabbing your hip with one hand and cuping ome of your hands that holds the plushie, "assuming he will be joining us?"

You pause for a moment before practically melting into Sirius, who chuckles as he hugs your waist properly, "yeah- he's gonna join us. If that's okay." Your voice is muffled into the black t-shirt he's wearing.

"'Course, that's okay, dovey." One of the two is behind you now, having dropped the extra blanket on the bed as well. You can feel him press a light kiss to the top of your head from behind.

You move your head from where it laid on Sirius, looking at the two extra blankets that taint your bed. "I have enought blankets, we didn't need more."

The smile never leaves the boys face, letting go of you and landing unceremoniously onto your bed, looking up to you and Remus, "nonsense, darlin, how else will be over heat in the middle of the night?"

"We won't overheat in the middle of the night." The tall one gets in the bed as well, much less dramatically and soooo ready for bed.

"You are so confident in that." Sirius twists his body to see Remus getting comfy in the extremely messy bed, then glancing at you. "'Cm'on, doll, bring your friend and come join us."

A small smile graces your lips as you join the boys, one halfway to a dead sleep and the other welcoming you into his waiting arms after you turn off the bedside lamp.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x sirius #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black oneshot #sirius black #remus loves sirius #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x remus lupin #poly!wolfstar imagine #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar #poly wolfstar #poly!marauders imagine #poly!wolfstar x y/n #poly!wolfstar oneshot #poly!wolfstar x you #marauders era fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders

[oolhan]

Too Many Beds

welp. I've managed to make some decent writing out of @waywardangel-wilds's blog about reversed tropes lol. This is unbeta-ed and all so here goes nothing! Part 1:

It started innocently enough. Their friend group after college always had an annual trip somewhere far from their busy lives from their respective cities. Three years ago, they did the Bahamas with Delly's boyfriend Thom as their local tourist guide. Because of the good weather and the white sands, the island was packed with tourists. They almost fought the receptionist of a dingy motel just to secure four tiny spaces. One for the couple, another for Finnick and Gale, Johanna and Annie's, and the last door for both of them.

Katniss and Peeta, bestfriends since childhood. Witnessed each other's puberty and insecurities, pulling all nighters just to be handed with diplomas, presenting those diplomas in countless job hunts. Found themselves only a block away from their workplaces, Katniss a columnist for the city's paper, Peeta baking all day at the nearby posh pastry shop.

So, sharing the tiny bed for two nights in a vacation shouldn't be weird at all, right? They've seen it all. Almost.

So, they did. Ironically enough it didn't feel weird at all. It felt the opposite, actually. What is that opposite though?

After those two nights of fitful sleep, it became an unspoken agreement they share a room in the next trips. They shared an old rickety bedpost with just a mattress and no duvet covers in some hut in Thailand last two years ago. A mattress with no bedpost when they decided backpacking across Europe was fun and their hostel in Barcelona only had three rooms for the 8 of them. A big enough couch in Austria. Wrestled a tiny blanket in Portugal.

No one in their group questioned their sharing, only teasing glances from Johanna and Annie in that Bahamas trip.  Because it felt natural, it felt fitting.

The conditions were weird, but it was okay. She likes the excuse she gets just to feel his arms spoon her, even just for a night. It became Katniss' favorite thing to anticipate in these vacations. Yet, she's never admitting that to anyone because after they come home and separate again at the airport, some sort of spell dies and only reawakens on next year's trip. For some reason they never sleep together even when visiting the apartment of the other. Really though, it was innocent cuddling between two childhood friends.

Peeta on the other hand, barely keeps it together. Sure, the sharing was innocent, and he likes the feel of her limbs bumping and tying with his own, but God does he want to just cocoon her in his chest, smell the fragrance of her hair, play with the strands, fidget his fingers on the circles of her shoulders. But he knew it's weird to do, and it may only make her uncomfortable.

And so, in those few nights they lay together in the past three years, he musters up most of the restraint he can. Because it was painful enough to just be friends with her, painful enough to hide the fact that he was a goner ever since they were five and never took the chance to confess, painful enough to witness her grow into a beautiful woman and hang out with jerks like Cato in high school and Marvel in college.

He'll fall apart if he admitted his feelings and she break up their friendship. Not when he can get these borrowed moments instead. Not when they're almost 30. Innocent sleeping, right?

No. Not when she wore some skimpy sleep shorts because she complained it was too humid in the tropical island. Not when she can feel his morning wood against her backside on mornings when she's the first to wake. Not when a housekeeper complimented how good of a couple they look when she carried some extra towels in their room, teasing with innuendos on her way out that made both blush and frantic.

Fuck those shorts, he thinks as he tries to pry his eyes away and concentrate on getting the shading right. He was propped up on the bed post, sketching away as a habit before sleeping and he has a good view of her ass bent over the end of her bed, arranging clothes on her luggage.

"What?" She glanced his way. Shit. Did he say that out loud?

"What?" He tries to keep a normal tone, his shading shaky.

"What about these shorts?" She's standing now with her hands on her hip, challenging him. What's wrong with her sleepwear?

"I-" before he could answer though, her phone rings. Her sister was calling all the way from New York, finishing medicine at NYU. Katniss' tone is cheerful when she answered Prim, though her mind lingers in Peeta's soft aggressive whisper. She settled on the bed cross legged.

"Hey! just checking in on you. How's Paris?" Prim's walking while on a video call, and Peeta hears her stride. He abandons his sketchbook and jumps close to Katniss over her shoulder to greet Prim.

"Oh, it's bad, duck. She shits on pain au chocolat. Uncultured and rude. Can you believe that?"

"Shut up! I was only being honest, it's overrated,"

"Honesty is not shitting on food," Woah. He's way too close now. She flusters as she notices the lesser gap. He smells fresh from the shower.

She covers it up with an eyeroll. There.

"I think she just misses your buns, Peeta," They saw Prim wiggle her eyebrows comically in the phone. She rolls her eyes again. God, not Prim too. If Peeta even flushed from the teasing, he doesn't show.

"Where are you off to, anyway?" Katniss steers the conversation, subtly shying away from Peeta.

"I actually have a make-up class in Bio and I'm running late but I wanted to see you for a minute. Paris looks good on you," Prim's video was shaky now from her walk-run.

"Yeah yeah, I'll send you pictures tomorrow morning. Or tonight, or your morning. I don't know," Katniss chuckles.

Peeta loves her most in these moments with her sister. He's always entertained by their sisterly banter and unfiltered bickering. Things far from the physical jokes and pranks from his brothers, like random hard punches on the shoulder or being locked up in the bakery's store room.

"And you finally got your own beds this time! No more cramping in one bed," Prim says, which irritated and startled Katniss enough because ugh, she didn't want to get awkward with Peeta, especially when they already got some tension lingering. She couldn't roll her eyes enough to disperse the growing tension.

"Uh-yeah-finally, Cinna's a bit lavish,"

"Yeah, but that doesn't keep away her snores," Peeta added good naturedly, trying his best not to sound disappointed or whatever.

Because when Cinna decided earlier to welcome the group in his enormous apartment in Paris above his tailoring shop, he became a generous host. Provided them with enough toiletries, towels, full pantry of food, and of course, beds for each of them. Two twin beds per room, and so they divided by couple, leaving Peeta and Katniss staring at the most spacious room they've ever been on their trips.

What if they just move the bedframes together and make one giant fluffy king size mattress?

No, no. That's ridiculous. And stupid. That's like crossing some kind of boundary. So as much as they want to, they remain stubborn and got to unpacking. Besides, they'll only be here for the night. After that they can sleep again together like before in a small Venice hostel tomorrow, right?

"Well, two beds or not, you can always share-"

"Okay goodbye duck, I hope you trip on the sidewalk and fall flatfacewithyourmatchalattespillingalloveryouuu," Katniss taps the end button and tosses her phone on the bed.

"Come on dude, just admit you like sleeping with this," Peeta grabs her hand and press it on her chest, enjoying how she blushes with his and Prim's teasing abilities.

"fuck you, I'll kill you in your sleep," She scowls and pulls her hand away. He's roaring with laughter. She doesn't indulge the fact she likes feeling his broad skin under her palm.

"No seriously, we're used to sleeping side by side. Let's just move the frames... or you can sleep in mine,"

Fuck. Why is he so blunt about this?

"Or I could just sleep with you on this. Ah, so soft," he lays down with his arms cradling his head. He knows she'll be convinced if he tries to play it casually.

Very, very tempting. But Katniss is stubborn, and instead grabs the pillow beneath his head and smack him with it. "Hey!"

"Fuck off my bed Mellark. Go to your own," she directs with little conviction. A little more, just convince me a little more.

He sits up and feigns disappointment, even though he is really disappointed. "I'm serious, let's just sleep together..." He stares her up with those piercing blue eyes.

Tension grows by millimeter with their stare and hitching breaths.

Is he really serious? Is this okay? Why is he so casual about this?

"Just get off my bed, Peeta. It's the first in weeks I can sleep with my head on a real pillow,"

So she's not convinced with casual talk.

A beat.

“Okay fine, just don’t set your alarm so loud,” He stands and reaches for his abandoned sketchbook. She already misses the weight of him on her bed.

“Fine then. Don’t stay up late with the lights on. Opening the window is enough,” she settles on her pillows.

“Fine,”

Blankets rustles on both ends, lamps turn off.

“Goodnight, Peeta…”

“Sweet dreams, Katniss.”

They pretend to not notice the other still not asleep. It was a restless night.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark prompts #why are they stubborn lol #thank you waywardangel-wilds #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader headcanons⛏️

(Start of Romantic Relationship Pt. III Edition!)

(Not my picture!)

(Finally on Pt. 3!!! It’s only been a couple of days since I first started this but I digress— Anyways a friend of mine, @goohts helped me figure out some ideas for this one, and I’m extremely thankful to her for it!)

Warning!: A small nsfw mention!

(Pt. I) (Pt. II)

- To start things off, baking, everyone likes to bake right? Well uh, if you decide to bake with Sloane, you obviously have to handle the oven part… And the ingredient part.

- If you don’t, things may get… Messy, you see they don’t really know a whole lot about baking at first, so they’ll try to wing it and assume crap. Bites y’all in the ass if you don’t thwart it in time.

- Imagine having to stop them from dumping a whole cup (not even a measuring cup, a drinking cup) of baking soda into the mixture, trying to protest against this, claiming that, “It’s called baking soda— so, there should be a lot of it right?” No.

- Besides that, they’re a great helper nonetheless, quickly learning from their mistakes and even getting pretty good at it the more you guys do it.

- I can imagine them making a cake like the mud cake Max, from Max & Ruby, makes but with crushed up Oreos, gummy worms, rock candy, etc.

- Looks a little frumpy cause they’re just too excited to take the time to decorate it, tastes great nonetheless.

- Also, a serial batter licker, you have to stop them from doing it almost every single time you have to give them a spoon or a whisk.

- Don’t want them getting salmonella after all, though they probably think it’d be a thing they’d die honorably for, that or between your thighs but like—

- I think they’d consider baking as a personal bonding activity between the two of you, and even if you don’t know how to— That’s cool! They don’t know either! You can learn together!!

- They definitely devour everything you make for them, if you char it— They’re used to eating rough stuff anyways, and leave NOTHING on that plate, that goes for more than just baking.

- Prefers sugary things, if that wasn’t obvious already. Brings a little baggy of candy with them wherever they go, preferring gummies.

- If you ever made them gummies yourself? They're already planning where to propose to you in their the second you give them the bag and tell them they’re homemade.

- Anyways, outdoor dates again with this one, cave exploring. Oh they’d just love to do that with you, probably suggests such a date like that when you both are celebrating your 6th month anniversary together.

- To say they’re excited is an understatement, traversing underground, being in the presence of rock various and unique rock formations that took years upon years to be where they are today and see it with you?? Oh yeah they’re living the dream.

- They’re constantly fighting the urge to break away from the group and run around, see everything the cave has to offer. It’s like seeing a kid in a candy shop and be given unlimited access to it I swear.

- Excitement aside, they make a point to make sure you’re ok all through out the trip, giving you whatever you request. Just making sure you’re well hydrated or comforting you if you start feelings a bit cramped in there.

- Always makes sure you’re up for it beforehand, wanting you to have as much fun as they are.

- They take so many pictures in sections where it’s permitted, and a lot of them have you as the main focus or in the sidelines, naturally.

- That scrapbook I mentioned earlier is jammed full of so many photos, you have to get another one or two in like a year after getting the first one, can’t properly close by the time they’re finished with it.

- Again, they genuinely want your relationship to work, and they just want you to reciprocate. I mean, what is a serious relationship without that after all?

(Sorry that this came out a bit later than it usually does, just going through some life junk.)

#overwatch x reader #venture overwatch #venture x reader #venture ow2 #overwatch 2

[hobiebrownismygod]

Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol

This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like

TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw

A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭

~2k words

___________________

"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"

A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.

"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach. 

"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"

"You stole it first!" Abe giggled, 

"You're a jerk!"

"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."

Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"

Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"

Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while  he showed him the different  strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.

"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"

"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.

"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"

"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.

The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.

He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me, and I walk alone~

His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline

Of the edge, and where I walk alone

His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.

Read between the lines

What's fucked up, and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone

Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving. 

Then the riots started.

People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.

Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.

He thought she had a gun.

He shot her.

And then there were three.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.

And then Osborne himself came after him.

He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.

It was just Hobie and his brother left.

Him and Abe against the world.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.

They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.

He wanted to be like him.

So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps. 

Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.

That's what he wanted to be.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"

Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.

"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.

_________________

10.5 years later

_________________

Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?

Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?

Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.

Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.

Shit.

He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...

He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.

What the hell?

It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.

He had to be strong.

Just like Abe had been.

_____________________

Full Fanfiction being written here:

#lol felt like crying today #atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #spiderman #beyond the spiderverse #atsv hobie #across the spider verse #hobie my love #hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x female reader #astv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie brown headcanons #hobie spiderverse #spiderverse hobie #spider punk #angst #tw blood #tw death #tw violence

[brokenpieces-72]

Promises

Navigation

Price comes back to the safe house and finds you on the couch. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost were all with Alejandro and Rudolfo, enjoying a night at his pub. You stayed behind to look after the kittens and work on some sketches for Farah’s commission.

John hangs his jacket and sees you curled up on the couch with your sketchbook, the kittens and a blanket and pillow. The kittens are asleep with their little bed box next to the couch. Your sketchbook is wide open on your lap. The open book shows some rough sketches of Milena as a caricature.

John doesn’t turn on a light, only stares for a moment before realizing it’s a little creepy. He goes to his own bed room to get changed into something more comfortable. There he thinks for a moment. You chose to come here, to stay with them. There were other options but you never asked if there were. He thinks about the night your father was killed.

John had called your father that night saying he’d found a huge lead on Makarov. One that would put him away, and where the warehouse was to find it. Makarov was ready though. It was planted for John to find it. Your father and Graves had arrived with your father going in. When Graves followed that was when it fell apart. John was there and Graves saw him, starting to question everything. Your father had already explained what he’d been doing but Graves realized too late that the chief commissioner was involved. John didn’t have the chance to pull his own before Makarov was able to run away, only getting him in the back of the shoulder. He focused on your father as did Graves. Soon enough more sirens could be heard.

“Run.” Graves had said. “If they see you it will make it worse.”

“Not fucking leaving hi-“ John tried to protest, not about to leave his friend behind.

Graves stood up and aimed his gun at Price.

“Back off… run or you won’t be able to do shit.” After that Graves started yelling and firing towards John, telling him to leave his partner alone. It pegged Price as some awful killer, accused of your father’s murder but never proven.

The day of your father’s funeral he’d been there to see you standing next to Graves. He’d wanted to offer his condolences, to explain what had happened. As soon as Graves saw the vehicle though he scooped you up and took you home.

A couple nights later, Graves was confronted again. He insisted you were safe and would be safe by staying in the force and keeping your head down. Johnny gave him a couple of punches for his word choices though. At the time, Price figured that would be for the best. You were on the side of the law, and as twisted as it may be, you would be out of harm's way.

When Soap had come to him about you though, that had thrown him for a loop. None of them knew what to expect. Graves was slowly playing along for some reason, but they figured he was just keeping an eye on you at first. Then Johnny came in and told Price the reality, which they had expected.

Graves was willing to help, it was why he’d told Price about the delayed shipment.

“I am trying to make it right.” Graves exclaimed to him.

“Done a bang up job of it haven’t ya?” Price commented. “The smartest decision you’ve made is to leave them alone.”

“Damn right.” Graves admitted. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Doubt it will be from you.” Price said before Graves left. Your idea to ask Graves for help had risk, possibly bringing the police too close to the action. Makarov would be keeping a close eye on Graves since Graves knew what happened. Alex was still an option. Price shakes his head trying to forget work and wanting to properly relax for a moment.

Price finishes changing and gets back out to the living room. Youmre still sleeping and he smiles. There’s a distant memory of him meeting you and your mother some time ago. Now you were getting caught up in gangs and fights.

Price takes your sketchbook from your lap, and bookmarks it with your pencil. He sets it aside. Then he takes the blanket from the couch and lays it over you.

Sometime before the night your father passed he was sitting and playing pool with the rest of them, showing off a couple of photos of you. You were pretty cute back then.

“Beautiful kid.” Price commented.

“Must get it from their mum.” Johnny said teasingly.

“Speaking of…” your father said, staring at your photo. “I need a favour. Long term.”

“Go on.” Price said after the room went quiet.

“Take care of them… if anything happens I want them to be safe.” Your father said. “Graves has offered to look after them and he’s my partner sure, but keep an eye on them for me. If they end up anything like me, they'll be in just as much trouble.”

They were all in agreement.

John looks down at your sleeping face. “Keeping more than just an eye on you now aren’t we sunshine?” Price says. You shift a little in your sleep, causing your hoodie sleeve to roll up. Even in the dim light, John can see a mark on your wrist. How long had it been there? He thinks back to when you went for a walk one night, to clear your head. After that, you always wear a long-sleeved shirt or a hoodie. No one questioned it since it was cold outside the safe house was usually a little chilly.

His mind wanders thinking of what could have happened, and why you didn’t say anything. He recalls you mentioning Nolan spotting you at the diner. If anyone were to get hostages from the streets it would be him. Nolan isn’t a small guy. John tries picturing you and the many ways you could have gotten away. The implications worry him. Nolan is Makarov’s attack dog, and if Makarov knows who you are he might exploit what he can. He knows you can handle yourself but he still worries. John's concerns go for everyone he works with, everyone he considers a friend. Part of the reason he opened the pub was for a cover, for when his boys couldn't fight anymore. Some sense of normalcy. Johnny had been pretty young when Price took him under his wing, with you being younger.

You shift more in your sleep, and the bruise on your wrist is more clear. Staring at the bruise, Price wonders if it was a good idea, to drag you into this mess.

Graves is called into the chief commissioners office and when he stands there looking at Vladimir Markarov he wants nothing more than to walk out.

“You need something sir?” He asks.

“Where is your partner?” Makarov asks. Graves shrugs.

“As I said… single. Why you asking me out?” Graves asks with a cocky smile.

“That act only works so well Graves. Where is officer l/n?”

“They’re not an officer anymore, so unless they’ve committed a crime, not sure I can answer that. Unless you’re referring to the late officer l/n.” Graves says, maintaining his smile but just barely. “We both know you aren’t.”

Makarov stares down Graves for a moment before opening his desk drawer and removing a file from his desk. A case file.

“Officer would you like to explain why so little has been done in this case despite multiple weeks going by almost months with little to no information? A case you’ve been working on undercover?”

Graves smile is gone as he presses his lips.

“Sorry sir. Been losing my touch in my old age.”

“And Officer l/n hasn’t picked up any of your obvious slack? Come now Graves we both know what’s going on.” Makarov says. Graves has half a mind to deck Makarov right then and there. It’s baiting, he knows it. Then again, Makarov could offer him some things.

“Officer l/n was still a rookie. Got into a nasty dust up, they decided it was too much, so they’re pursuing other interests.” Graves explains.

“Such as?” Makarov asks leaning back, with a pleased look. Graves thinks for a moment, as if recalling what you said you wanted to do.

“Rock climbing,” Graves says, a smile on his face. Makarov looks less pleased.

"Rock climbing?" Makarov says, looking a little annoyed.

"That's what they said. Maybe it was pole dancing." Graves says, shrugging.

“Graves you are bordering on insubordination.”

“I’m not sir. And if I am… well… maybe I’ll run off and return out of nowhere to my old spot if I need to. Hopefully, it’ll be kept warm for me.” Graves says staring Makarov in the eyes.

“Watch your step. Careful you don’t trip over your own bullshit.” Makarov says. “Dismissed.”

Graves leaves his office and packs up his stuff for the day stepping out of the station. He doesn’t go home.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz

#cod au #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #gn reader #phillip graves #vladimir makarov #gangster au #cod gangster au #backstory and lore #seriously i love requests

[bb-olicity]

On An Island Alone

It’s been 3 weeks since Chenford’s breakup and I feel like I’m on an island… alone.  The day after 6x06 aired, I made the decision to walk away from The Rookie. Well, at least until after the finale. I’ll decide if I'm walking away permanently once I check online and see how the season ended.  And before I go any further, to anyone who wants to say I'm not a true Rookie and (most importantly) Chenford fan: I have just as much right to stop watching the show as you do to keep watching it.

So why am I choosing to no longer watch the show?

The main reason I started watching the show in the first place is/was Chenford and I can’t sit there and watch them redo Seasons 4 and 5A and I won’t. Especially considering the fact we already know from Eric’s comments to TVLine they’re not getting back together by the end of the season finale.  I do not see them getting back together until at least the midseason finale next season.  Actually, if I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure they will get back together or if they even should.  I know me saying that will make a lot of people mad, but after reading Melissa and Eric’s post-episode interviews, I got a sense of finality when they were talking about Tim and Lucy’s relationship as a couple and the breakup.  Plus, I honestly don’t see how they can come back from what they did, which leads into the other reason why I’m not watching anymore.

Tim’s whole storyline rubs me the wrong way in so many ways.  They could’ve brought in his military past in so many other ways and still had him struggle without destroying his character in the process.  As it is, the storyline feels extremely forced just to cause drama for the sake of drama and, for me, irredeemably destroyed Tim’s character.  They completely erased 5 ½ seasons of character growth in the matter of only 1 ½ episodes.  And I'll never be able to see Tim the same way again, even if he goes to therapy.  I personally would never be able to trust him again and I honestly don’t see how Lucy could either.  That’s also why part of me feels like they should not get back together. Yes, I know it’s a short season and everything is condensed, but Alexi and the writers should not have done the storyline this late in the season, knowing they would not be able to do it justice with only 4 episodes left and not knowing the show’s fate by the time they finished filming the finale.  Since they were planning to break them up, I feel like they should’ve done it at the end of the premiere or by 6x03. That way there would’ve been time for Tim and Lucy to work through their struggles individually then work them as a couple by the end of the season.

Why do I feel like I’m on an island alone?

After the episode aired, a lot of the fandom was angry and a good number said they were done to show.  However, over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that number dwindling and a lot fans are now justifying the breakup who weren’t before and they have absolutely every right to.  I can see where they’re coming from, to a certain extent.  Tim and Lucy both were hiding things from each other since they started dating and would just gloss over things that needed deep and meaningful conversations to work them out.  That said, I personally will never agree with the breakup or the whole (Tim’s) storyline and will always maintain the breakup was completely unnecessary and they could’ve (and should’ve) stayed together and worked through their struggles as a couple.  So yeah, I’m on an island alone… and that’s okay.

#The Rookie #The Rookie Season 6 #The Rookie 6x06 #Secrets and Lies #Chenford #Chenford Breakup #Breakup #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford

[kriegertops]

This is a very long one:

I was going down a tumblr rabbit hole and came across and old Binoe page that had A LOT of Krashlyn content from 2019-late 2022. And I came away with a few observations:

1) Ali and Ash were deeply in love. The pics, videos, events, comments to each other, just their sheer history together is overwhelming, and they looked happy, affectionate and just in sync thruout. This idea that Ash was in an unhappy marriage is ridiculous. Bc nothing she ever posted indicated anything close to that.

2) The early Sloane months were adorable, and their captured family moments were so cute and loving. They absolutely doted on that child. She was the center of their world, and they documented so much of her cuteness, and it reminded me of how fun Ash was during this time, and I *briefly* remembered why I liked her back then.

3) I hadn’t realized that makeup artist Alex had been with them for so long- I thought she was new once they got to NY. But no- she was there on their wedding day and before. Also, forgot how close both A’s were to all the Gotham girls when they first got to the team, and how tight Midge was with the whole family.

4) I was reminded of how much soccer connected them, and how it dominated their lives.

I eventually had to stop scrolling bc I got sad seeing how they used to be.

So what in the heck happened?

1) I think Ash was not at all prepared for retirement. She didn’t really line anything up that would be sustainable employment, and not having that identity as an athlete was overwhelming. I’m guessing she had some mild/severe bouts of depression, and despite having an adorable family, she realized it wasn’t fulfilling her. That probably led her to be mean and resentful of Ali, which progressed into outright anger, and bc she’s at her core a narcissist, she blamed Ali for her own sorry situation.

2) there’s been so much talk of, how did Ali not know things were so bad? Well, after all those YEARS together, Ali probably assumed they would work it out. Even after ash moved out, she might have still had visions of repairing her family. Trust me, no mom willing concedes 50% of their time with their kids without a hard core fight. I think Ali was willing to do the work- she just couldn’t give it everything bc she was trying to f’ing retire.

3) those women had a TIGHT group of friends. For years, very formative years. Megan loved Ash. They were effusive abt their friendship. Reliving all their posts back and forth again signified how telling it is that almost NONE of their friend group publicly supported ash. National teammates, club teammates, outside soccer friends (makeup Alex), preschool families- they all gave her the heisman. They didn’t engage in SM, didn’t post pics, really just dumped her like a bad habit. Divorces happen in friend groups- it can be kinda awkward, but they’re grown adults who can make their own choices. And they all very clearly chose a side. And you wouldn’t do that as a friend unless what you saw was behavior so egregious and abhorrent that you couldn’t in good faith support it. And that’s exactly what happened. Ash recently posted something abt friends who chose her over optics, clearly indicating anger at those old friends. Her and Pinoe were at the same event this week, yet no public pics or any indication they interacted. I’m assuming they did, but in the past we’d see evidence of it. She goes on and on abt her new friend group, but it has to hurt a lot that she lost her old tribe. And people that know both her and Sophia- like a Glennon or Foudy, have given the couple no play at all.

4) While I have absolutely ZERO empathy for Ash, I do think she’s gotten herself into a situation that has lots of complications and might not end the way she expects. How do two self involved love bombers stay together once the newness wears off and they are in the mundane realities of everyday life? Ash has 17+ years left of raising kids. And once the kids are doing events and activities, she won’t be able to bail for a week at a time. And eventually she’s going to need to find work. Courts don’t like parents who don’t pull their weight. I think they got caught up in their infatuation, are bonded over their us vs them mentality right now, and once their feelings come back down to earth, it will be a different reality for them. I don’t really care- I don’t wish them any luck. I just think they have an uphill battle.

And my last musing after all this was about how much deep respect and awe I have for Ali. She was served a complete shit burger in the middle of her retirement season. When she should have been riding high, enjoying her last professional soccer games as a player, she was thrown into the worst chaos a person can be in. I will detest Ashlyn forever for putting her in this situation, and not having the maturity to wait it out with Sophia, and let her former wife have her moment. I think back to that Pinoe game where she and Sophia paraded around and my blood completely boils for Ali. I don’t know what happened between them, but the intentional cruelty and vindictiveness Ash showed is so disgusting, it defies logic. I am so thrilled that Ali has moved on, is thriving and has shed this dead weight from her being. I can’t imagine what she’s gone thru, but to see her unbothered and smiling now is just wonderful. I wish nothing but happy things for her!

Okay, I think that’s it! Thanks for reading my dissertation 🤣

Thank you for this anon!!! I appreciate the time you took to write this cause damn this is long😂🔥 I agree though with your thoughts on the situation and honestly the more we find out the more obvious it becomes that Ashlyn is nothing but a narcissistic cheater and Ali’s a warrior and queen who deserves happiness!

[myname-isnia]

Uploading the Three Musketeers edit that I mentioned in the tags of my last post bc I spent 40-60 minutes on it and sacrificed all of my tablet storage space and I’m very proud of it

#if tumblr lets me upload it that is #the three musketeers #d’artagnan and the three musketeers #д’артаньян и три мушкетера #soviet cinema #I know no one’s gonna care about this but I’m posting it anyway #bc it’s my blog and I do what I want #it is currently musketeer hours in my brain #idk why #kuviren are very confused as to why they sometimes get a bunch of new roommates #it’s because my obsession with this film series comes and goes every few weeks whenever something triggers it #and then it goes away again after a couple days #ANYWAYS #this was actually a very fun exercise in colour and composition #I just scrolled back and forth on the 4 hour compilation of all three episodes on youtube #trying to spot scenes that fit each colour #I find it funny how there’s a very clear theme with each part #like cardinal richelieu is the only one who consistently wears bright red so he dominates the red scenes #milady is in a lot of yellow bc she’s blonde and her skin has a warm undertone and her main dress is yellow and black #green is just scenery mostly. fun fact movie was filmed in ukraine #and then blue is musketeer uniforms #*insert intense stimming here* I am Completely Normal about this #making this was really fun #I kinda wanna do it for some other fandoms but it takes so much storage space and effort #for very little feedback #I might if inspiration hits me idk #we’ll see #rant over

[t4tdanvis]

Gene freaks out once he’s back in the overworld because he’s re-experiencing so much. He starts sobbing uncontrollably the first time he feels rain again.

"... hey you good man?" "over wh elm,ed ,"

#❄.txt #ask box #'hey gene ur crying a lot r u ok??' '... yeah *starts crying again*' #after a couple days hes like. actually. it feels Good to cry instead of bottling up everything #remembering everything feels Terrible at first but eventually he goes from 'its so over' to 'maybe its not so over' to 'i will make things #better if it fucking Kills Me' #hes like that one comic #hes very brave. hes crying the entire time but he isnt running away from his problems anymore