#but it is so hard to keep myself afloat these days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sc0tters · 6 months

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Forever Yours | Mat Barzal

summary: when Mat’s words send the argument too far it sends him into a day of true self reflection.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing.

word count: 3.41k

authors note: this request was really good and I tried to fulfil it as well as I could and do that little bit more for it too. It took my an embarrassingly long amount of time to write this but I think that it was all worth it in the end. I really did love this one so I’m hoping that you guys did too, so to those of you who do read it all, thank you.

Today was one of those days.

The one where you want to crawl into a ball and hope that if you shut your eyes tight enough you’ll wake up and realise that it was all just some bad dream.

Zack your youngest has been clinging to your side as he is going through teething. Then the twins who were weeks away from turning four were having the worst time of their lives. Whilst Oscar lost his teddy bear to the family lab Marley, Marcus only wanted his father who was far too busy preparing for the end of the season’s playoff run.

And that brings that to why you were having a bad day.

The crockpot decided to turn off at some point during the day so you no longer had dinner cooking, Amazon delivered your package that had the boys presents in it to the scary neighbour. The boys had you chasing them around publix because they kept on running away. And to top it all off you had dirty laundry that could have been coming out of your ears you had so much to do.

Which is why you were honestly giving yourself a pat on the back for getting Zack to sleep before Mat came home “daddy!” Marcus cheered running over to his father who came in the front door.

You wiped your hands on the kitchen cloth that was in front of you before you turned to where the noise had been coming from “hi love.” You yawned as your eyes grew heavy when the lack of sleep that you had began to catch up with you.

Mat furrowed his brows as he saw that the dinner table wasn’t even set yet “boys already eat?” He asked giving you a side hug.

A quick shake of your head had him scoffing “what the hell was so important today that you couldn’t get dinner ready for five thirty?” The hockey player had a rough day where he couldn’t seem to score a single goal during practice today and he brought that negative mood home with him “boys why don’t you go to the playroom?” You asked the twins sending their father a glare “we are not doing this with them here.” You warned as the boys ran off unaware of the glaring match that their parents held.

Mat crossed his arms as he tapped his foot against the floor “you haven’t answered my question yet.” His voice was condescending as it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You sighed “day just got really out of hand.” You mumbled picking up that he wasn’t going to be interested in hearing about what your sons had gotten up to today.

From the lost teeth to breakdowns in the grocery store, if you could name it the event probably happened.

Yet your words didn’t harbour the response you hoped “I don’t go to work for you guys to sit on your fucking asses all day!” Mat hadn’t noted when his frustration on his day morphed into frustration about you.

At this point one of the twins began crying “sitting on my ass?” You let out a laugh “do you know how hard it is to raise these boys myself?” You crossed your arms. You loved your kids but you were getting spread far too thin to keep yourself afloat.

Now you had both clearly gone too far “from where I stand it’s a pretty easy job.” Those words came with a slash of a knife that couldn’t exactly be taken back.

The look on your face in that very moment was one that Mat hadn’t seen before “if you think it is so easy then you take the kids tomorrow.” You proposed with a smirk “what are you gonna do?” Mat couldn’t believe that he was entertaining your thoughts.

Quickly the penny dropped in your head “the girls haven’t seen me in months. They want to go to a spa.” You raised your eyebrows with a smirk “deal.” Mat nodded his head as he reached his hand out to shake yours.

Part of you found it sad to believe that this was what you had gotten to “where are you going?” Mat wrapped his hand around your arm as you went to move away “to deal with our crying child because it clearly seems that you aren’t planning on it!” You shot back clenching your fists as you walked into the playroom.

Whilst you spent the night taking care of your boys tucking them in Mat was on the phone to Anthony debriefing the events that had happened “you were an ass dude.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he rubbed his hand along his jaw.

Years ago you would have been Anthony’s dream girl, you were Anthony’s dream girl but when Mat won you the younger boy took his defeat gracefully “look I can’t exactly go and tell her I fucked up now?” Mat grumbled as he stared at the ring in the box.

Six years of dating and three kids to show for it yet no ring on your finger, or at least not yet “sorry dude.” Anthony apologised as he shook his head “you have to lie in the bed that you have made.” He shrugged seeing Mat’s face soaked in regret.

So Mat got to watch as he realised the consequences of his actions “I will say that she does love you just as much as she loves those kids.” As godfather to all three Tito could see just how much all three of those kids meant to you “so if y/n is y/n then I suggest you start looking for the checklists.” The comment about your organisation skills made both boys laugh.

Getting to watch you craft the step by step lists that you loved so much made Mat’s days “I should get going.” The Islander player sighed seeing the bedroom door open as your body appeared.

You sent Mat an awkward smile as you watched him throw his phone to the side “hey-” Mat spoke up as you went to your closet.

Pulling random items of clothing together you tried to ignore your boyfriend “the boys are down.” You announced grabbing onto some old band tee that you had found in your closet “so I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.” Mat wanted to argue, he wanted you in his bed because as much as you so badly wanted him to feel a of the ounce of the stress that you had felt dealing with the rough parts of the single parenting lifestyle this week.

But instead he watched on “you sure?” Were the only words that he could find in his mind that his mouth would let out.

It was a far cry from the fight you wanted him to put up “I thought I’d been sleeping with a guy who wanted to see me today, but since that isn’t the case I’d rather be alone.” You sent Mat a nod feeling too tired to cause a fight tonight.

The guest bedroom was bleak in comparison to your bedroom. The walls were decorated yet the love that had been soaked into the walls of your room hadn’t been carried to the very room that you sat in.

Playing with the beaten up hem of the band tee you had grabbed only now realising the memories that had woven themselves into the stitched fabric.

This was more than just a simple shirt to you and Mat. This was the first shirt you stole from him, the shirt you were in when he asked you to move in. The one when you went into labour with Zack. If something could capture your relationship. It was that shirt.

ABBA blared through the speakers of your apartment as you danced to it. Mat had been on a road trip for the last two weeks and you being heavily pregnant you were in nothing but Mat’s shirt.

The boy ended up arriving quietly as you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music “holy shit!” You clutched at your chest as you locked eyes with the boy “I was just starting to enjoy that show.” Mat frowned as he pushed off from against the doorframe.

His hands ran over your stomach as he smiled “missed you.” His words were soft as he kissed your lips.

You looked like a sight for sore eyes in his shirt “missed you too.” You smiled as you ran your finger over his cheek.

So you couldn’t help it when you stared in the mirror and watched on as tears welled in your eyes making you unlock your phone “momma.” You sobbed as the call connected “Mat and I had a fight.”

When Mat woke up that next morning the mix of the irritated looks on the twins faces and the lack of your presence on the other side of the bed served as a reminder for the events of the previous night.

Oscar was the first to speak up “we’re gonna be late.” He pointed to the clock making Mat’s eyes go wide “where is your mom?” Mat groaned rubbing his eyes as the sleep caught in his fingers.

Marcus pulled the note out of his pyjama shorts pocket “momma gave this to me.” Of course you had gone and kissed the boys before you left to head to New Jersey for the day.

𝒯𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓃𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒.

Getting both boys dressed was one thing but almost forgetting that Zack was asleep in his cot truly took the cake “forgetting someone?” Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed at the picture of the three boys you had taken for Christmas “fuck me!” Mat pinched the bridge of his nose “swear jar!” The twins spoke at the same time as they watched Mat run back upstairs.

Mat had realised that he had truly screwed up when the boys didn’t even say goodbye to him when they left “tell mom we miss her.” Oscar mumbled as he let the car door shut with a slam behind him.

Zack was peacefully playing with the toy that Marcus had dropped into his hands “you okay buddy?” Mat looked into the rear view mirror to see that his youngest was now looking back at him “mama!” Zack cooed as he let out a giggle “I know, I miss her too.” The hockey player let out a sigh as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in front of him.

You let the warm water of the jacuzzi calm your nerves as you peacefully sipped on your mimosa “so what did Mat do?” Maisie asked as she cocked her head.

It pulled your attention away from the bubbling water “what makes you think that he did something?” You shot back ignoring her smirk “it’s been three years since we last went to the spa. What has your husband done to bring you back here?” Before kids the spa was a bimonthly tradition for the two of you.

Maisie sighed as you kept quiet “boyfriend and we fought.” You corrected her looking down at your bare ring finger “tell me what happened.” She reached out to hold your hand “basically-” you were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing “hello?” You asked quickly answering it.

“I know you said that Mr Barzal was picking the boys up today but the boys are still here.” It was forty minutes after the boys were meant to be picked up “I’ll be right there.” You cursed the universe as you got up.

Water ran down your body “Mat forgot the twins at school.” You explained shaking your head “I’m sorry but I have to-” stress made your cheeks turn red “go, I’ll come with.” Maisie didn’t even have you finish talking before she followed you out of there.

Mat bounced Zack in his arms as they walked back to the car “what does your mom want?” Mat furrowed his eyebrows to see that you had sent him twenty missed calls.

You didn’t let him get a word in “Mat you have done some stupid things in your life but this truly takes the cake.” You spat pinching the bridge of your nose.

Thankfully for you the twins always assumed that you were the one meant to pick them up so they didn’t realise that they had been forgotten about “hi dad!” Marcus giggled from the back of the car “shit.” Mat slapped his hand over his mouth “swear jar!”

Mat knew he had screwed up once more “Zack had a good check up and that ear infection is gone!” The hockey player let out an awkward sigh as he watched Zack babble on to himself.

You wanted to yell at him but for now you were going to have to remain quiet “we can talk about it at home.” You hung up before Mat could say anything more to you “I think momma’s gonna kill me.” Mat groaned shaking his head as he placed Zack into his car seat.

Maisie had kept you calm until she left wanting to give you a moment to gather your thoughts before Mat came home “mama!” Zack cooed as the front door opened.

He was happy on his fathers hip until he saw you “he didn’t take his bottle today.” Mat explained as Zack reached out to grab you “it’s because he’s teething.” You explained handing your baby the teething toy you had grabbed when you heard the door open.

That served as another reminder to Mat about your strengths as a parent “where are the boys?” Guilt began to consume him as he thought about what he had done to the twins “playroom.” You tilted your head in their direction.

Mat sent you a nod “can we talk?” He pleaded wanting everything to go back to how it was.

All of his teammates had sent him messages expressing how they were on your side because Mat fucked up “you go talk to your sons, I’m gonna feed this one.” You shook your head not agreeing with him “then we can talk.” You sent him a soft smile before you walked upstairs wanting to feed Zack in peace.

The twins were forever on your side no matter how much they missed their father “you know mom told Nana.” Oscar knew about his grandmother’s distaste for Mat. She always did believe that her daughter deserved more than a hockey player who was keeping her in New York.

Mat frowned at the news “I’m sorry I’ve been really shitty to you both.” He apologised watching the twins look at each other with a smirk “I know I’ll put another dollar in the swear jar.” He added in a predictable tone.

The twins got up when their father dropped his head to stare at the ground as he crouched in front of them “I think we can let you get a free pass.” Oscar announced wrapping his arms around Mat “but only if you go apologise to mom.” Marcus added on replicating his brothers actions “yeah I miss moms waffles.” Oscars complaints brought a smile to Mat’s face.

It made him laugh as he nodded “I think I can find a way to make sure you guys get those.” The boys let out a cheer at the news.

Zack had fallen asleep the moment he finished eating “can we talk?” Mat asked as he knocked on the door to see you sat on the bed as you folded laundry.

Your absolute definition of the worst thing on the planet.

Mat laughed as he watched you scrunched up your face reacting to how he folded clothes “you got something you want to say?” Mat raised his eyebrows as he placed his boxers on the table in front of him.

You sighed “you’re doing it wrong.” You shook your head as you reached out to fix what he had done.

It made him smirk “what?” You looked for an answer to his amused expression “as someone who hates folding laundry you are doing a pretty good job.” Mat pointed out as he crossed his arms.

Your mouth formed an o as you let out a gasp “cause you’re doing it wrong!” You threw his boxers at him “want to show me the right way to do it?” You raised your eyebrows as you heard his offer “if that was to get me into your bed once more-” your relationship with the boy had only been going on for a few weeks but you had been friends for years.

The hockey player grabbed your hand as he pulled you onto his lap “then I’d have to try a lot less to be a lot more successful.” Mat brushed his hand along your cheek “I’d like to see you try.” You let out a squeal when he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

When Mat’s body weight pressed against the mattress it pulled you away from that memory “I don’t know how you do that everyday.” Mat blurted out as he looked at you.

It brought you some comfort hearing his apology “you are incredible and I was stupid.” The hockey player continued as he ran his fingers through his hair “that’s one way to put it.” You let out a soft laugh “I’m so sorry for everything I did.” Mat reached out to grab your hand.

You smiled at the contact “thank you.” Your voice was soft as you sent him a smile “and I promise I will never leave our children at school again.” His words made you laugh “I’m not letting you live that one down.” You shook your head as he grinned “thought as much.”

Both of you remained silent for a moment just enjoying the peace “I appreciate your apology.” You mumbled fiddling with your nails.

Mat stopped you as he forced your fingers down to the mattress “I have something I need to tell you.” The hockey player announced reaching over to his bedside cabinet.

You shook your head stopping him “I have something to say first.” Amit the chaos that was yesterday you failed to tell Mat the news “you go first then.” He let the box drop into his drawer as he waited to hear what it was that you had to say.

He smiled as he watched you run into the bathroom with a smile on your face “Zack was meant to wear this really cute onesie that I ordered when I thought about this but-” Mat cut you off as he got up to follow you “just spit it out.” His voice was soft as he sent you a thumbs up.

You showed him the pregnancy test as you chewed at the inside of your cheek “say something?” Somehow you were more nervous about showing it to him now than you had for any of the other three pregnancies combined.

Mat pursed his lips together “I was going to say this to you in a few minutes but I’ll do it now.” A moment truly hadn’t felt better than this one did.

He dropped to his knee “I can’t see my life without you and today cemented that more than any other did.” Mat confessed making you smile “the ring is in my drawer-” he rambled making you grin “just ask me so I can say yes you big goof!” You kneeled as you smiled locking your hand with his.

“Marry me so I can spend the rest of my life with you?”

Eight and a half months later

Mat and you enjoyed the last moments of silence as you stared at your newest edition of the family.

But of course the moment had to end eventually when Anthony opened the door with the twins and Zack in tow “is my goddaughter everything we thought she would be and more?” Anthony smiled as he carried a bouquet in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Mat nodded crouching down to show the boys their sister “couldn’t have said it better myself.” He nodded knowing that this was going to be the child that was truly going to wrap everyone around her finger.

#mat barzal imagines #mat barzal oneshot #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

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nothomegal · 4 months

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“The little owl family” (Part 6)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.

Word Count: 4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.

He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.

But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...

. . .

A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.

They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.

Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.

The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.

—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.

No answer or movement.

—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—

Still nothing.

The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.

—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—

Nothing.

They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?

—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—

Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.

Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.

(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.

They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...

They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...

Please...

Please... Make it all stop.

Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.

(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.

They're so tired, they're done.

Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.

The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...

The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.

That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...

He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.

—"...You."—

They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.

—"I hate you..."—

He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.

—"I hate you."—

They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.

—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—

Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...

—"Why are you doing this?..."—

Silence.

—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—

Because he does.

—"Why?... Why?"—

They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...

The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.

(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.

No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!

What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!

They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.

—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—

But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.

They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.

—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—

They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.

—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.

When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.

They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.

A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.

—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—

They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).

They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.

—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—

There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.

—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.

Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.

To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...

(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...

"I wanna help you..."

"...But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...

The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.

—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.

However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.

—"...Are you alright?"—

The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.

Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.

—"Remembered something bad?"—

He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.

(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.

—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—

No answer.

(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.

—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—

No reaction from the man, as expected.

They turn around and open the front door and pause again.

—"...Thank you, Michael."—

And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.

The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.

And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...

. . .

After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.

It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.

And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.

But the second they enter and close the front door...

—"(Y/N)!"—

A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.

—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.

—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.

—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—

As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.

—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—

—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.

As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.

—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—

The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.

—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.

The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.

—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—

A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.

—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.

—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—

(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.

—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—

—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—

—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.

Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.

Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.

—"And so... (Y/N)."—

(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.

—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.

—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.

—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—

(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.

—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—

The little girl practically ignites in joy.

—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.

The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.

—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.

The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.

—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.

Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.

He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.

It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...

It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...

...

...Happy.

He feels happy.

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

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cozybearz · 3 months

Text

I’ve been wanting to make this post for a bit. My friends have been dealing with housing insecurity and difficulty covering living expenses for them and their two dogs for a few months now, they are both immunocompromised, at high risk for Covid, and under a lot of stress daily. If you can donate to them either directly and/or through their fundraiser, and also share this post, it would be so greatly appreciated

heres the fundraiser link, and direct donations are also super helpful and needed

Cashapp: $LelandChazen

Venmo: artbydykes

(description from their fundraiser page explaining their situation below)

“Hi everyone! I’m Leland. My wife’s name is Eve and we have two sweet dogs named Rickie and Ralphy. We live in a travel trailer near Astoria, Oregon.

Eve and I are both immunocompromised and high risk for contracting Covid-19. This would likely prove fatal for me and cause Eve to have long lasting health effects.

Unfortunately, I lost my job working for Trans Lifeline as a Crisis Hotline Operator in December 2023. It was a remote job that I loved very much. The organization furloughed and fired direct service workers rather than the folks that are making six figures (who have let the organization down greatly.)

Hotline Operators are peer support workers who take calls from Trans folks in crisis—some are suicidal or are in the act of committing suicide. It’s a very hard job. Unfortunately, we are the most underpaid staff within the organization. It is nearly impossible to have a savings account when you’re trying to make sure your bills are paid and you have food on the table.

By firing the most important, yet vulnerable staff, Trans Lifeline knew they were putting Trans employees in dire situations.

I have to work remotely to keep myself safe. Since I was fired in December, I have been applying to jobs daily. It is incredibly hard to find remote work.

Since losing my job, Eve and I lost our housing, forcing us to live in a travel trailer which has been a very difficult situation. We have had flooding leading us to be without running water and a working toilet. On top of that, the trailer was incredibly moldy, which was a blow to both of our immune systems.

We cannot afford basic necessities, our vital medical prescriptions, doctors appointments, dog food, gas and masks.

We are now two months behind on our car payment and a month behind on our trailer payment.

To make matters worse, a few days ago our tire flew off of our truck. Luckily, we were unharmed, but we are without a safe, working vehicle that we rely on, as we live in the woods. Nothing is within walking distance.

The stress this has caused is severe. It has exacerbated my chronic illness symptoms and my mental health is suffering.

We are at risk of having both our car and home repossessed.

I am still waiting on unemployment. However, $1000/month does not cover our expenses. It doesn’t come close.

Please help us stay afloat for the next few months, as I desperately try to find a new job.

❤️,

Leland and Eve”

#i unfortunately live far away from them and also dont have income so i can only help a little bit #but they’ve been dealing with so much and can use any help anyone can give with covering their basic living expenses #long post #mutual aid

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anotherweirdhunterfromspn · 2 years

Text

How the Doctors would react if you get injured

Ninth Doctor

Mad isn't enough to describe how he feels about it, eons of pain and grief coming afloat in the second he saw you were trying to stop the bleeding.

Still he doesn't want to make you more nervous, so he remains as sarcastic as usual to cheer you up.

"Dont worry Doctor, it is nothing!"

"It is something! And I was having such a nice day."

Tenth Doctor

He would try to help you in anything he can, of course he would joke about it as he checks your wounds.

He wont say it too loud, but he is planning how to return you to your normal life before something terrible happens to you. This time it was a minor injury, next time... He knows that it would get worse, but it was hard to say goodbye.

"Well, (Y/N)! Seems like I will need to cut your arm off!"

"Its just a cat scratch! You are overreacting!" "That's the point (Y/N)! Someone has once said that laughing was the best medicine."

Eleventh Doctor

Overwhelmed by fear, fear of losing you, fear of being unable to save you from his enemies.

"I want to keep you safe, please stay in the TARDIS! It was my fault that they tried to hurt you."

"Doctor! I only twisted my ankle!"

"Yes, because you were running away from the Cybermen!"

Twelve Doctor

He is... Like your worried and overprotective grandparent?

He acts and pretends that he doesn't care at all, but he is the same sweet man (time lord) as always and can't help but find the way to fix everything. He is like a mother-hen, an alien and eons yeors old mother-hen.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"Outside? Where those little aliens need us?"

"No, no. You stay in the TARDIS. You are injured."

"Doctor! It has been a month! My wound has long healed!"

13th Doctor

If you thought that the Twelve Doctor was an over protective mother-hen it was because you haven't met the Thirteenth Doctor. She jokes all the time, but she cares deeply about everyone in the TARDIS, its like having a second mother and some times you almost get guilty each time you get hurt.

"OH MY, WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Doctor, before you do something like... I don't know. Travel to space and time to find a hospital. I will say, this is just a small injury."

"Its not small! Its the size of my pinky finger! Get into the TARDIS! I will see it myself!"

#doctor who (2005) x reader #reader insert #10th doctor #12th doctor #eleventh doctor #doctor who x reader #male reader #10th doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #11th doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader

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cupid-styles · 6 months

Note

maybeee idk smth with mia and h and maybe theyre like at a business meeting or dinner and hes decided to take her with him OR hes at a meeting and shes teasing him by texting fun pics or smth and shes constantly teasing him and he gets more and more worked up and finally snaps and then when either he gets home or they get home together the filth ensues and hes absolutely brutal like completely relentless until shes like a mess and like completely wrecked and he doesnt fucking let up

IDK i feel like im bad at this shit lmfao😭💀

omfg STOP IT NO this is so good!!!!!! you're definitely NOT bad at it hehehe (I changed it just a lil bit but I hope u still like it!)

word count: 898

content warnings: DEGRADATION, name calling, mutual masturbation (but mainly just on mia's side), phone sex/nudes, kind of public play?, daddy kink (wow apparently I can get a lot done in less than 1k words !) enjoy!!!! :)

It started out innocently enough.

Mia liked the outfit she was wearing today and she wanted to show her boyfriend, who had already been at the office for three hours just as she was getting ready to leave the house. They both led busy lifestyles, with Mia being knee deep in work for the end of the semester and Harry being the CEO of an entire company, so it was hard not miss each other when they were apart. Hence why phone calls, photo messages, voice notes, and even FaceTime calls kept them afloat during particularly tough weeks.

The mutual need for one another was apparent. They hadn't been together in days, and the last time they were, it was for some silly event Harry had been forced to go to. Mia fell asleep on the drive home and his heart strings tugged guiltily, feeling awful for dragging her out on a school night.

So, when Harry replies to her picture with an influx of compliments, telling her she's such a pretty girl and he's so lucky to have her — well, it has her craving more. It sets off some part of her, making it so he's the only thing she can think about all day, and it's when she's in her second lecture of the day that she has the idea of traipsing off to the single use bathroom, locking the door, tugging her sweater and bralette up over her chest and snapping a picture of her tits to send him.

The response is nearly immediate.

From: Harry🩷

Are you trying to kill me?

She smirks, quickly typing back a response.

To: Harry🩷

of course not!! just miss u daddy🥺

The three dots instantly show up on her screen and she bites her lip, nibbling on it as she waits for his reply.

From: Harry🩷

Put your pretty tits away and go back to class like the good girl you are.

She swallows harshly, knowing she's not ready to end her game quite yet.

To: Harry🩷

what if i don't wanna be a good girl?

what if i wanna make myself cum in this bathroom, thinking about ur fingers making me squirt?

From: Harry🩷

If you do that, I'm picking you up from campus to give you a punishment.

Instead of sending back another picture, she's dialing his number in the blink of an eye. She wiggles her tights down and brushes her fingertips over her mound, a short gasp leaving her lips as Harry picks up the phone.

"Mia. Go back to class." he answers gruffly.

She moans softly into the receiver as she wiggles her fingers under the fabric of her underwear, tenting it over her knuckles. Unlike Harry, she's impatient, never interested in edging or teasing herself, so she makes quick work of finding her clit, gentle pads running over the nerves.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he mutters, and her eyes roll back at his exasperated tone, "You're being a slut right now, you know that? A dirty fuckin' whore that can't keep her fingers to herself for a minute."

His degradation only spurs her forward, dipping down to her hole where her juices are already collecting between her thighs. She pushes a finger in, knowing her time is limited before someone from her class notices her elongated absence. The whimper that leaves her mouth is embarrassing, and she hopes no one car hear her from outside.

"Jesus," Harry says in disbelief, "How many spankings do you want tonight, little girl? 10, 15? If you make yourself cum, you're in for at least 20."

The thought has her clenching around her finger as her palm rubs messily against her clit. She curses to herself lowly, adding a second finger to the mix. They're not as long as Harry's so she has more trouble reaching deep inside of her, but the stretch feels decent enough to push her to an orgasm.

"G-gonna cum soon, daddy."

"Brat," he spits, and she swears she can hear slick passes in the background of the call, "Maybe I should overstimulate that dumb little pussy tonight. Make you cum so many times you're drooling all over yourself like the messy bitch you are."

"Oh— fuck, fuck—"

"You'd probably like that too much, though, your daddy abusing your swollen hole until you can't even breathe. Guess I'll just edge you instead, keep you tied up with a vibrator between your legs— have you go for hours while I ignore you, all because you just had to cum all over your fingers."

That's what does her in — the visual of him dismissing her as she writhes around in his bedsheets, arms and legs tied to the posts of his obscenely expensive bed frame, her pussy pulsating around nothing as she begs and pleads to cum. She whimpers breathily as she feels herself squeezing her fingers, milking them until the dreamy sensation subsides, leaving her a sweaty, panting mess with a mess in her underwear.

"Fuck— fuck, that was good."

Harry chuckles, the sound warming her chest as she wedges the phone between her neck and shoulder. She quickly cleans herself up and washes her hands, shimmying her tights back up her legs.

"Seriously though, go back to class, Mi. It's been like 20 minutes since you called."

"Mm, I will," she says softly, fixing her hair in the reflection of the mirror, "Will you still come over tonight? I miss you so much."

"Of course, angel girl. You didn't think you got out of that punishment, did you?"

#writing #sugar daddy h

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borzoibabe · 3 months

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i kind of want to talk about this whole "act your wage" movement that's been going around. because it is completely unrelatable to me.

am i saying this isn't a conversation worth having? no! all the more power to you!

here's my beef:

i'm autistic. and i'm not "personality hire" autistic. i'm not "fun and quirky" autistic. i'm "not a good culture fit" autistic. and when you don't fit into a company culture, no matter how hard you may try, they're gonna want you out. and if you really need money, and like having money, this is a bit of an issue. so, i've only found one way to get around not fitting in: working so hard that i can't be replaced.

i want to stay employed and stay afloat, so i am the one who fixes everybody's mistakes so things can keep running smoothly. i am the one who follows every rule to a T. i am the one who sweats my ass off to get everything done that needs done. i am the one who does all the sidework and doesn't complain. my coworkers get the privilege of sitting back and watching me do everything, and that's fine i guess, cause it's better than the alternative. but god knows if i ever did that, i'd be fired the next morning. but it's fine! i'm fine! it's fine!

i don't get to act my wage. i have to be the best - i have to make myself irreplaceable - i don't ever get to have bad days - or i won't have a wage at all.

i'm tired :-)

#i really do like my job. it's a job but it could be so much worse #but it's also just not fucking fair and i'm tired. but i have no alternative

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valeriianz · 10 months

Text

so, i HAVE an idea for something 00's romcommy (thanks to @carnelianmeluha and @wordsinhaled) but as i was writing it, i thought to myself, "but they need backstory!" and what was going to be just a few paragraphs of introspection turned into a 3.3k high school AU set in the 90s. so, have this for now. part 2 will be up whenever i feel like it :)

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

“Dream!”

Hob found him in a corner, blending into the shadows and had to laugh as he looked up at the sound of his name. He was wearing black, as usual, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tight jeans.

“So glad to see you here.” Hob said as he approached, looking upon his friend with a little less restraint than he typically allowed. The vodka-spiked punch was hitting him hard.

Dream relaxed a modicum, his shoulders visibly drooping as his chin tilted up.

“I am only here because you invited me.”

Hob’s smile only widened as he leaned forward.

“Then I’m flattered. Do you want a drink?”

Dream shrugged and Hob laughed again, turning halfway and inclining his head for Dream to follow him.

Hob, despite being in with the more popular kids in his grade, wasn’t the biggest fan of house parties. He knew Dream wasn’t either; moreso, in fact. Dream was more likely to be found spending his Friday nights cooped up in the library, nose stuck in a book.

But tomorrow they were graduating from high school, and Hob’s parents weren’t coming back from their anniversary trip until the morning. Which meant this was Hob’s last chance to throw an epic rager.

Though Derek Gallagher, the star athlete of their high school’s football team, was also throwing a party tonight, so it was less of a rager going on here, and more of a casual hang sesh. Hob couldn’t complain though. At least he liked the dozen or so people in his parent’s house, and at least cleaning up the next day wouldn’t be impossible. And no one had messed with the volume control for the music yet; 90s hip hop and r&b dripping through the entertainment system.

Hob nabbed a red solo cup and ladled out the sweet drink into it, passing it along to Dream, who took it with a suspicious look before taking a sip.

Dream immediately blanched.

“Oh. That’s awful.”

Hob laughed again before biting his bottom lip. Dream didn’t seem to mind though, his own little smile peeking through.

“You can dilute it with more juice in the fridge, if you want.”

Throughout the evening, Hob tried to keep his attention on more than just Dream at his side, chatting with his fellow classmates and laughing along to stories and jokes, one last go at clearing up the rumor mill.

And though Dream mostly kept quiet, he did acknowledge those who greeted him, congratulated him on getting into a university in England, how fun it was going to be moving overseas, to which Dream hummed and nodded politely.

Hob was the only one who knew the truth: that Dream’s parents were sending him away. That while Dream had been accepted on an academic scholarship, it was only because his family had set it up for him. Had forced him to apply, had paid for his application and was having him shipped off next month, when Dream would turn 18 and they didn’t have to keep him in their house any longer.

What looked like a privileged situation was actually cruel and heartbreaking. Yes, Dream was going to Oxford. That was insane. Yes, his stupidly wealthy parents were paying for his room and board and what tuition the scholarship didn’t cover. But it was only a drop in the bucket for them. They saw Dream’s future more as a promising investment for when they grew old and needed Dream’s career to take care of them. Not as if they had plenty of money stowed away to keep them afloat during retirement and then some. Or plenty of children, for that matter.

And of course to say they had yet another child in some prestigious university didn’t hurt their reputation either.

Hob managed to derail the subject every time it came up, of where everyone else was going to college. It was inevitable, discussing the future with his classmates, given the timing. But Hob could see Dream sinking more and more into himself as the night went on, holding onto his drink more for his hands to be occupied than anything else.

“I know,’ Johanna announced suddenly, hours bleeding into the late evening. “Let’s liven things up a bit.”

She had several hands help clear a large area in the living room as she procured the empty vodka bottle, shaking it with a drunken twinkle in her eyes.

“Truth or dare, motherfuckers.”

The party, which had been dying down, suddenly turned up again. Everyone refilled their drinks and formed a large circle on the floor.

Dream plopped down next to Hob, folding his legs and throwing a lazy, tipsy smile at Hob. Who had to take another sip of his drink to keep himself from doing something drastic. Like tell Dream how cute he was right now.

His coal black hair was a mess, sticking up and curling around his ears from the excessive amount of times Dream had run his hand through it. His boots were off, his sock-clad toes wiggling in anticipation. And his blue eyes seemed to shine, reflecting off the Christmas lights Hob had hung around the house for the party.

The game started and everyone played along, turning up the stakes and performing various wacky scenarios that only teenagers were capable of escalating. Cori licked Alex’s eyeball on a dare, erupting a chorus of screams and gags and Alex furiously rubbing his eyes afterward. On a demand for truth, Rachel confirmed the rumor that she’d fingered Johanna under the bleachers freshman year to an absolute assault of jeers and hooting and hollering, causing the extremely rare sight of Johanna flushing scarlet from her ears down to her neck.

Naturally the game turned racy after that. Dares to kiss and show off hidden tattoos. Truths to admit who fucked whom and what would you do for such-and-such.

Hob feels himself getting warmer. And not to mention Dream, who remained seated next to him during this entire debauchery, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as the game wore on. Hob could sense him slowly slipping out of the circle, until his knee lightly touched Hob’s hip, instead of where it had been for the better part of half an hour, resting against his thigh.

Hob turned, finding Dream staring down into his empty cup, turning it around and around in his grasp, and had just opened his mouth to comfort him, when Johanna piped up across from him.

“Hob, truth or dare.”

Hob’s head swung forward, eyes falling on the bottle top pointing directly at him. He sniggered softly, taking another peek over at Dream and finding his eyes now on him. Hob gently laid his hand over Dream’s foot, giving it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze before facing Jo again.

Truth be told, Hob was feeling much too invigorated from the alcohol, and he’d been waiting for his time to shine. Hob loved making a spectacle and so let his smile turn into a smirk, meeting Jo’s challenging stare head on.

“Dare.”

A collection of “ooh”s and delighted giggles spread around the circle.

“Good choice, Hobsie.” Her own brown eyes sparkled with mirth. Hob wasn’t sure when Rachel had crawled into her lap, but didn’t let it distract him from her next words.

“I dare you to…” Jo tilted her chin, tapping it in mock consideration. “Kiss the person the bottle next lands on.”

Oh, easy, Hob thought. About to open his mouth to say so, when Jo spoke up again.

“With tongue.”

“Pfft,” Hob sat up, pushing his chest out. “You’re on.”

He reached forward, licking his lips teasingly as his eyes roamed around the circle of his peers, getting a hand around the bottle and giving it a powerful twirl.

The room went quiet save for a few hushed exchanges and some girls giggling that only made Hob grin flirtatiously. He felt the alcohol in his blood rushing with enough speed to make him dizzy, and the spinning bottle honestly wasn’t helping. But Hob had been patiently waiting his turn all night so watch it he would.

Soon, all eyes followed the bottle as it began to slow, a hush of anticipation that Hob’s peers had been accustomed to all night falling over the circle once more.

Until the bottle finally stopped, and Hob’s heart along with it.

Because the mouth of the bottle pointed squarely at Dream, sitting right next to him.

Scattered hollering and clapping filled Hob’s ears as his gaze flicked sideways to his friend, who was staring at the bottle, his posture ramrod straight, his hands no longer fiddling.

Hob swallowed and ignored the jeering and playful jab at his side from Cori, eyes fixated on his friend, his best friend. Who didn’t like going to parties, who only smiled when he meant it, who only complained about his parents stupid and strict rules only if Hob asked, never wanting to appear annoying, or too much, preferring to keep to the shadows.

Dream, who would fold if only Hob gave him his best pout, allowing himself to be tugged along to a concert or arcade with a well timed joke and friendly pestering. Who seemed like such a stick-up-the-ass to everyone except Hob, who only had eyes for him. Hob’s best friend, shy and awkward and a little mean, and so devastatingly handsome it was a wonder Hob hadn’t had the balls to do something about it yet.

It would take something as juvenile as a dare to finally give Hob the excuse to act upon his helpless crush. Though Dream…

Dream hadn’t looked away from the bottle. Bringing his lips in to form a line and. Hob felt his nerves begin to escape from out his ears.

“Hey…” Hob spoke gently, moving his hand to carefully rest on Dream’s knee.

Dream’s gaze snapped to Hob at once, and the look in his eyes made Hob’s stomach drop.

He looked terrified.

Hob’s breath caught in his throat, the air around them suddenly thick with an unidentified tension.

Cori’s voice popping up over Hob’s shoulder made them both jump.

“C’mon, Morpheus. Hob won’t bite, unless you ask him to!”

Hob sighed loudly, rolling his eyes for the group’s benefit, who eased up with a roll of snickering around them. One time, that happened!

“I–” Dream started, swallowing hard enough for his Adam’s apple to bob harshly. “I’d rather–”

“Just one kiss, Dream,” Hob heard himself say, a little desperate. A little too drunk. “It’ll be really quick…” He felt himself already leaning in and Dream’s lips parted, sucking in an audible breath.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Jo and Cori started the chant, and everyone around them followed suit, egging Hob and Dream on.

The realistic, rational part of Hob’s brain, which was still muddled by cheap vodka, tried to remind Hob that this was just a game, and Dream didn’t have to do this if he didn’t want to. He’d even opened his mouth to say so, amongst the drunken, teenage laughter and clapping in time to the chant.

But what he spoke, instead of insisting they didn’t have to kiss, that they could potentially even revisit this, and Hob’s ego wouldn’t be bruised, thank you very much, was a quiet,

“Please?”

Dream’s brows pinched together, he looked truly torn and Hob couldn’t figure out what that meant, especially as the seconds ticked away. Driving Hob crazy, waiting for permission; verbally or even a single head nod. Hob wet his lips and his stomach did an acrobatic leap as he caught Dream’s gaze flick down to catch the motion, his shoulders visibly rising as he took a breath.

“No.”

Hob blinked and Dream was untangling himself from the floor, standing up so fast he wobbled, and stomped out of the room.

The chanting died down at once. Hob felt himself frozen to the carpet in the surrounding silence.

Somebody politely coughed. Hob’s gaze found Johanna, who only looked back at him in sympathy, her eyebrows tilted up.

Humiliation and rejection burned in Hob’s chest, crawling up his neck and making his ears hot.

Cori clicked his tongue and Hob whipped his head around to glare at him.

“Tough luck, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Hob hissed, feeling all the more embarrassed for it. He splayed his hands flat on the floor, pushing himself up without another look at his classmates, and walked towards where Dream had vanished to with shaking limbs.

—------------------------------------

Hob found him quickly enough, going through the laundry room and out the door that led to the back yard.

“Dream?”

Blue eyes, barely visible in the darkness, rose to find Hob as he made his way down the steps, sitting across from Dream, against the railing, putting distance between them.

Dream looked forward again, his eyes set, face unreadable. Hob hated that he was drunk at the moment because he’d otherwise never chuckle sarcastically like he’s doing now. Hiding the pain, perhaps, hoping Dream can’t see how ashamed he’s feeling, how rejection boils in his blood and even looking at Dream right now, twists Hob’s insides.

“What the hell?”

Dream takes a long breath through his nose, pushing his shoulders back. And says nothing.

“It would have just been a stupid kiss,” Hob goes on, unprompted. Words tumbling out of his mouth like vomit. “You’re my friend. Is the thought of kissing me so disgusting you need to run away?”

Hob feels his eyes begin to sting and throws his head back, smiling derisively. He was about to start crying. Great.

Once he’s gotten himself under control, Hob tilts his head down and finds Dream watching him, his own gaze softened, if only minutely.

His lips part, voice low and quiet. “You misunderstand me.”

“Then I’d love it if you’d explain,” Hob sighs roughly. “Because you just made me look like an asshole in there.”

Dream shakes his head, unfolding his arms over his lap and getting long, pale fingers around his knobbly knees instead.

“The world is ending tonight.” Dream starts cryptically, staring at how his fingers pick at the tears in his jeans. “Tomorrow we graduate. I’m going to England and we’ll never see each other again.” He looks sideways at Hob, who’s holding his breath.

“And you’re still worried about how people perceive you?” He takes a breath. “You choose to spend your last hours getting drunk and playing juvenile games? Instead of…” Dream gaze flits back toward the house, swallowing.

Hob scoots over, closer to Dream. Summer is right around the corner but the night air is cool still, clean and pleasantly quiet. And Dream blends into the darkness like he belongs there, the stars in the cloudless sky, how they light up the darkness along with the moon, giving just enough illumination to see by, to marvel at Dream sitting on Hob’s back porch steps.

Taking in the wonder that is Hob’s closest friend, beautiful, shy, wicked smart Dream. Hob feels calm fall over him like a blanket. Mulling on Dream’s words, and settling on a response.

“What would you rather be doing?”

Dream finds Hob’s gaze again, and Hob lifts his shoulders, prompting Dream further, but he remains silent. Hob takes a breath, speaking again when Dream doesn’t respond.

“If the world is ending anyway…” Hob starts, licking his bottom lip. “Then just say it.”

Agonizing seconds slip by, where Dream stares at Hob, lips slightly parted, eyes widening.

“I want to kiss you.”

Hob’s heart lurches in his chest and he feels the air leave his lungs. Dream’s voice is so quiet, so fragile, it makes Hob ache.

“But not–” Dream inclines his head slightly, toward the house. “Not like that.”

“Oh…” Hob says eloquently, finding himself petrified once again.

There’s a new tension in the silence that falls between them. Waiting, anticipating. Hob takes a steadying breath and feels like he’s jumping off a cliff.

He gets on hand on the floor between them and leans over, his other hand hovering towards Dream.

“Can I–?”

“Yes.”

Dream meets him halfway, pressing warm, chapped lips to Hob’s, and holding still.

It’s sweet, and careful, and when Dream exhales from his nose, the warm air hitting Hob, his lips part to take a breath and Hob lunges forward, getting a hand around the side of Dream’s face and pulling him in. Hob sweeps his tongue along the seam of Dream’s lips once before diving past, pulling a surprised gasp from Dream that turns into a soft groan.

Hob’s fingers caress into the soft strands of Dream’s hair as they kiss, elation popping off like fireworks under Hob’s skin as he finally is able to touch his friend like this. Move his lips along Dream’s with drunken coordination and vigor, putting as much affection and want into the kiss as Hob could, hoping Dream could understand. Could feel how long Hob has wanted to do this. And as they move together, bodies naturally closing the distance between them and Dream’s hands finsting into Hob’s shirt before weaving up and around his shoulders, Hob understands why Dream would rather share this privately, without an audience of their peers gawking.

Because this was real. Years of repressed yearning and feelings bubbling up to the surface and tumbling forth in exchanged breaths and needy whines, Hob’s fingers digging a little harder into Dream’s scalp, Dream’s hands, in response, clawing at Hob’s back, pulling him impossibly closer as his body arched like a bow so their chests bumped and Hob could feel the heat of his friend’s body against his own.

Hob tore his mouth away, taking a ragged breath, stealing it from Dream, before going back in, again and again, little lips-only kisses that elicited the prettiest noises from Dream. Especially as Hob’s lips wanders down his chin and up his jaw, causing his friend to cling tighter to Hob, tilting his head to give Hob better access, breathing through his mouth, the hot air hitting Hob’s ear and driving him wild.

“Dream…” Hob finally spoke, his low voice painted in arousal and causing Dream to shake in his arms. He nipped Dream’s ear before licking it. “Why is this all coming out now?”

One of Dream’s hands went up into Hob’s hair, fingers tangling in the brown locks as he huffed his response.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Hob smiles, but it’s sad. He’s slowed down now, gently nudging his nose underneath Dream’s ear before pulling back, facing him once more.

Dream’s eyes flutter open and Hob feels struck down. He’s never seen Dream’s eyes so dark, his blue iris’ nearly all encompassed by the black of his pupils. Hob, unable to resist now, taps his nose to Dreams, taking a breath.

“I was scared.”

He can hear how Dream swallows.

“Me too.”

They sit like that for a long moment, holding on to one another, breathing each other’s air, savoring the revelation that had just transpired. And knowing it wouldn’t last.

—-------------

They of course saw each other again at graduation, and throughout the days that followed. Hob prepared to move across the state to his chosen college and Dream prepped to leave the country all together.

Hob offered to drive Dream to the airport on moving day, but Dream shook his head, saying it was already too painful that he was leaving, he didn’t want any lingering looks. Instead Dream’s father took a quick detour to Hob’s house, where Dream stood in Hob’s doorway to say goodbye, and in full view of both their families, all they could do was hug. And Hob put his entire body into it, crushing Dream, who had always been so damn thin and gangly, in his arms and nosing his way into Dream’s hair to take one final, deep inhale.

“We’ll see each other again.” Hob promised, in that hopeful way young people did.

Dream only smiled ruefully, his eyes shining and causing a lump to form in Hob’s throat.

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” Hob nodded, getting his hands around Dream’s face and caressing his thumbs under his eyes and across sharp cheekbones. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”

Dream huffed out a quiet laugh, the blue of his eyes sparkling.

#dreamling #hob x dream #my need for long buildups will be the death of me #i was gonna end it on a cliffy #just a hint to the flashforward i'll get into next #but ran out of steam #if anyone is curious what happened after this #message me #everything will be explained in part two #but i might wanna drop some teasers first #my writing #dreamling romcom au

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circadeacademia · 19 days

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Prompt: Bad Habit (Escapril Day 9)

A list of bad habits I possess:

• Profusely biting nails when the butterflies in my stomach transform back into caterpillars.

• Staying up late at night because my brain identifies as darkness.

• Not drinking enough water ever since I'm drowning with my head afloat.

• Slouching like an open first bracket as I struggle to keep the burden off my shoulder restrained.

• Being a woman and (not) utilising my uterus up to its full potential.

#1 confession : my nails often look like the map of sri lanka

They live at the mercy of my incisors, much like slapstick characters next to my mother's precise C-section. I destroy them with the same audacity like butterflies in my stomach go through retrogressive metamorphosis. At times, I think of ripping my torso open like a rotten tree and unleashing the apex predator inside.

So the next time I declaw myself, spare me as a creature of habit. Because maybe if I try, I can make it precise.

#2 confession : unbothered, hydrated and in my lane (?)

3 litres a day, I thought would be enough to just ‘live, laugh, love’ through life. But I'm 7 part saltwater and a pretend salmon. Some days, I also mimic a biblically accurate eye candy : sour & pre-saturated in brine.

Make it make sense, but it's not really my fault if I remind you of a fish, actively drowning while gasping for water.

#3 confession : this rusty old uterus will be my endgame

Bloody hell! innit? You should've seen their faces when I decided to keep the river flowing and leave the barren field for aesthetics. This old hag is in her main character era and will chew right through your nerve endings to prove so. Enough with the uterus talk you say, but old habits die hard.

On a side note, I could've lectured you about the ‘Y’ in audacity, but well, what would I know? I'm just a woman and a woman I stay.

— circadeacademia

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trulybetty · 4 months

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Sunday Week In Review XVI & 2023 Wrapped

I feel like 2023 just started five minutes ago, am I the only one who feels like this year as passed by quickly but at the same time dragged its heels?

I've seen so many lovely end of year close out posts and years in review. I toyed with how I wanted to close out the year and what I could say that could sum it up sufficiently.

Betty rambles under the cut with this weeks reads if you're interested...

2023 has been a weird year if I'm entirely honest and somewhat isolating. I returned from mat leave, back to working from home, and having to scramble to make adjustments when things fell through. Which resulted in Mr. Truly and I working opposite shifts to ensure the S.S. Truly stayed afloat.

But during the last six months somehow I made it back to Tumblr, to an old account from way back when - pre-dating when the Canucks made it to game seven kinda old - I blew off the dust, cleaned house and made myself a little space. I still don't know 100% how it all happened, though I think it started with the Reddit forum.

You don't need to know the whole spiel about Pedro, because while we're here because of him, it's the community that holds us here. After floating and not really knowing what I was doing, I started to make connections within this community and finding a seat at the table (we'll come back to that) and I found joy again. I'd kinda lost myself in the fog that is half a dozen other titles/roles others looked to me as that had replaced just Betty.

I started writing, hadn't done that in years. I rekindled by love for graphic design, what I went to school for. I was reading books again, as well as so many great fanfics here. I even bought poetry books, something I hadn't done since I don't know when.

I've been really fortunate in my experience that I've encountered so many wonderful people. I may not get to be as social as I'd like to be, and I still have a fear of dropping into DM's & Asks unannounced. I have the shittest memory, if I don't keep a tab open or reply straight away it's sometimes days or weeks before I remember again. But I really hope that I've returned in kind what others have given me because I'd hate for anyone to feel like they don't belong here, because you do.

This community is a table (told you I'd come back) and it's size is immeasurable. It has no bounds and there's always room for whatever kind of chair you pull up and if you don't have one? We'll find one. Need to leave for a while? We'll save your seat. This my friends is a community, and if you're met with those who tell you the table is full, I'm telling you now, they're not a part of it.

Are there going to be those with more notes? Yes. Are there going to be people you're going to compare your writing to? Yes. Are you going to maybe want to pack it all in and delete your masterlist now and then? Yes.

But none of that takes away anything that makes you, you and what you bring to the table.

Life is hard enough without the added pressure of thinking you need to score imaginary internet points with stats and metrics that carry no value. I wish I knew the magic formula, because I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but let's try and be kinder to ourselves eh?

But I'm really going into 2024 with the goal of curating my own joy - whether it be indulging in the fanfics I want to write and read, more obnoxious coffees, a new fountain pen, giving myself permission to buy the fancy notebook, get back to baking or binging both seasons of Julia and pretending I can make one of her recipes.

So to sum it up, before this goes into a further incoherent ramble, this year has been about reaching out, starting connections and building something meaningful. I've met some amazing people that I am lucky to call friends and without their kindness and extending a seat at the table I'm not sure I'd still be around these parts.

Here's to more of that in 2024 - while I'm not always the best at replying to messages, my DM's and Ask's are always open, feel free to drop in at any time 💕

Pedro Tax™️ for your time...

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

December x 500 is complete-ish? Thanks to being sick towards the end of the month there's three entries missing, but I'm hoping to sneak them in during the new year! I'm looking forward to a quieter writing schedule that's for sure!

W H A T I R E A D . . . Didn't read as much as I wanted to this week - but I'm off this next week, so hoping to do a little more and get through some of my TBR list!

All I Want for Christmas (Frankie) by @morallyinept This was a delightful festive meet-cute that had me on the edge of my seat and also explores the character of Frankie and the ramifications of his actions on his friendships and his ex.

All I Want (Will Miller) by @laurfilijames This was a bittersweet one-shot that touched on the idea that the festive season isn’t always for everyone and that you never know what’s going on with someone.

I Put My Book Down to Be Here (Dieter) by @frenchiereading My first New Year’s Eve fic I’ve read this season and it’s so sweet and has a soft Dieter (my fave), who is still his chaotic self! I loved this from start to finish and such a great meet-cute!

Had Me Fooled (Dave) by @wildemaven Heidi has done such an amazing job with this mini series that can be read as a standalone or as a series. I love a soft Dave and Heidi does it so well. This last one had my toes curling in all their romantic glory and I will be revisiting this series again I'm sure!

Reunions (The Thief) by @ladamedusoif I'm behind on Rose's December prompts, but this was the steamy follow up to My Kiss, Only For You (go read that first, no seriously, go read it) and it was so delectable and my greedy self hopes we see these two again in the future.

Cookies (Tim) by @ladamedusoif Speaking of delicious things, this was as indulgent and sweet as the cookies made in this fic. Tim was one of the characters I didn't see becoming such a favourite this year - but I love seeing everyone's interpretation of him. This one here? In my top ranked versions 🫠

So here's to 2024!

Thank you for every interaction, reblog, or tag - every single one is held clutched to my heart in appreciation every time!

Stay safe, and whatever you're doing or wherever you are sending you much love!

#betty's sunday in review #sunday week in review #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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