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#i had them closed this week cause its been stressful but my day off is coming soon
sturnad · 16 hours
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NIGHT SHIFT p2
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Pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo
Summary: a girl that just started working in a local cafe in her small town and a boy who just moved into her town because of his dads job.
Warnings: none
I couldnt sleep for the whole night cause I kept thinking of him. I hugged my pillow and stuffed my face in it. I let out a small sigh as i felt my eyes close. And suddenly I was asleep.
-
The next day - I woke up in the morning and rubbed my eyes, back and forth. I slowly rolled out of my bed and stretched while letting out a big yawn. I spotted my clock in the corner of my eyes. "Shit-" i said as i quickly started throwing some clothes on. I had a morning shift today and totally forgot to set the alarm. I quickly got ready and rushed into my car outside. I started pulling the handle of my car door and realized i forgot my car keys in my apartment. I quickly ran into the building and went to my apartment, unlocking it aggressively. I picked up the car keys and stormed out of my apartment after locking it.
I drove off to the cafe all stressed out. When I arrived I rushed in and all of the other workers were already there. "Where have you been?" "Youre late." some said with a tone. "Im really sorry guys I totally forgot im working a morning shift today, i- im sorry.." i said while my breathing speed increased. I almost ran out of breath from all the running around. Everyone glared at me and then returned back to their work. I quickly ran to the changing room and changed in my uniform and apron. I came out and started taking some orders.
As I was cleaning up a table i noticed that boy from yesterday sitting in the corner of the cafe behind the table for two. He was with someone older, probably his father or someting. I got all flustered again just by looking at him. After I finished up with cleaning that table i walked over to them awkwardly.
"Hello, may I take your order?" i said politely while waiting patiently.
"Yes hello." his dad spoke as he cleared his throat. The boy kept glancing at me. "Im gonna have a cappuccino and a croissant" his dad said. I nodded and wrote it down. "And Ill take some waffles please" the boy said. I smiled at him as I wrote down his order.
-
I made their order and brought it to their table. As I began placing the coffee on his dads side of table my hands were trembling a bit so I spilled a drop of his coffee accidentally.
"Oh shoot Im really sorry I-" before I could finish my sentence his dad yelled at me. "What the fuck. Be careful, what is wrong with you?!" I trembled at his sudden change of voice and tried apologizing even more but it made it worse. Tears started fulfilling my eyes. "Im really sorry Ill clean that up for you now.." i spoke as i stormed off to get some paper to clean the mess up. The boy started running after me..
"Hey, hold up!" he said. I turned my head around with watery eyes.
"Im so sorry about my dad, are you okay?" he spoke with concern in his eyes. "Ye-yea im fine, thanks.." i respond.
"Are you sure, you seem stressed.."
"Yeah i was just late for work today and im a bit freaked out.." i say.
"Oh.. do you need a hug?" he said. Even though he was a stranger I totally fell in love with i really needed that hug. I nodded and opened my arms for a hug. I fell into his arms, he wrapped his hands around me, patting my back. Later on we both pull away. I smiled at him and thanked him. He smiled back and calmed me down.
"Hey btw are you from around here?" I said out of curiousity. "Im asking out of curiousity, I mean its a small town so I know everyone but Ive never seen you.."
He chuckled and replied "No um me and my dad moved here a week ago cause of his job.."
"Oh thats great, do you like it here?" i asked.
"Its nice.." he nodded. "I actually go the county technical high school here in Cape May" he added.
"Really? Omg me too! How old are you?" i said with excitement.
"Im 19, you?" he responded. I said im 18.
"So were both seniors after the summer break huh?" he said flirtatiously. I nodded. "Yeah, Ill see you soon?" i asked. He nodded and winked. "Hell yeah. Im Chris btw", he smiled, i nodded.
"Im y/n" I said, he smiled and went back to his table, I came over and cleaned the mess i made before.
-
After my shift i went back home and I COULD NOT WAIT for the summer break to end so I could see him again in school.. very unusal for me to think that but fuck i couldnt wait for school.
TAGS:
@imwetforyourmom @slut4mattsturn
@junnniiieee07 @uhnanix @pxndaaa
@thebottledwatersupplier @h3arts4harry
OMGGG WHAT DO WE THINK?? I honestly dont think its that bad. PART 3 COMING OUT SOON!! Love yall <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
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Eddie doesn’t exactly get high often, alright? He just indulges in his own supply when he’s feeling particularly stressed.
Okay, so he’s been a little fucking stressed lately. His supply is down to nothing.
And it wouldn’t be a problem, except he feels like he’s getting a cold, or a flu, or a fucking tumor. He’s been sneezing nonstop and he keeps getting hot flashes and it just doesn’t make any sense. He’s been holed up in his room for a week, not even coming out to see Wayne before he leaves for work. No way he caught something besides loneliness.
Wayne always has some Tylenol on hand, but what good does that do when he’s dying? There’s some allergy meds that Wayne always takes during the first bit of spring, but they could be expired for all Eddie knows.
So he’s dying. Alone. In his too-hot/too-cold room. No music to even soothe his soul on its way to its final resting place.
“Eds?”
Oh, now he’s hallucinating too? Great.
“Eddie!”
He turned towards his door but couldn’t find the energy to open his eyes, even when his hallucination spoke again.
“Jesus, Eddie. What the hell is going on?”
Steve was definitely not a hallucination. He was standing in Eddie’s bedroom doorway, hands on his hips, unfairly attractive scowl on his face, looking at Eddie like he was a lost cause.
He always looked at him like that when he was trying not to show he cared.
“If you don’t have drugs, leave me to die.”
Eddie turned back towards his wall and pulled the blanket over his head, regretting it the moment a drop of sweat made it’s way down his neck. He refused to let Steve see him like this. One near death experience was enough vulnerability for them.
“Wayne called and asked me to check on you. He said you were avoiding him. Any reason or you just felt the urge to see my pretty face?”
“Wayne shouldn’t have called you. I don’t know why he called you. Pretend he didn’t. Go back home. Say nice words about me at my funeral and try to mean them.”
He couldn’t see Steve, but he could feel his eye roll.
And Eddie knew he was being over dramatic. He was over dramatic more often than not. But he was having a rough week, his therapist would probably even say it was an isolation week, and now he was sick on top of it. Dramatics were his way of showing he’d survive.
“Are you sad or sick?”
“Yes.”
“Which one is worse right now?”
Eddie considered the question, considered his answer.
“Sick.”
“Stomach, head, or both?”
“Both. Everything.”
“Got a thermometer around or do I have to kiss your forehead to see if you have a fever?”
Eddie knew he was blushing. He’d never been so thankful for a comforter nearly suffocating him as he was in that moment.
“You’re not my mom no matter what the kids seem to think of you.”
“Thank god for that.”
Before Eddie could unpack whatever Steve meant by that, he felt the bed dip behind him and a hand touching his back.
“Let me check for a fever so I know what meds to get.”
Eddie hesitated. He hadn’t showered in at least three days. He was breaking out in a cold sweat. He was at his least attractive at this moment.
Letting Steve, the guy who he’d been in love with for almost a year now, see him like this? Hell no.
“Eds. Don’t make me call Wayne at work.”
Eddie sighed and pushed the blanket off of his head. He turned onto his back and glared at Steve. He ignored the fact that it took most of his energy to keep his eyes open long enough to do it.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks, I got all dolled up just for you, sweetheart.”
If Eddie had felt better, he may have noticed how Steve blushed, but unfortunately, he had already closed his eyes again.
He felt a cool hand on his forehead and sighed, relaxing back into his pillow.
“Fuck, Eddie, you’re burning up! How long have you felt this bad?”
“I dunno. Last night.”
Eddie didn’t want the hand to leave, it felt too good against his burning skin. He shivered when he felt another cool hand on his cheek.
“I’m getting some Tylenol for the fever and I’m calling Wayne to get you flu meds on his way home. Were you just gonna dehydrate and suffer in here alone?”
“Probably.”
Eddie waited for Steve to argue, to tell him he didn’t need to hide away or pretend he was fine if he wasn’t. He’d heard it plenty from his therapist and Wayne and Dustin and even Max when she felt like being nice. But he was met with a drawn out silence that made him nervous.
He peeked an eye open to see Steve staring down at him.
“I wasn’t gonna like, let myself actually die.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Uhhh…”
“It’s not like I wouldn’t be here. You know I can handle it. Right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Do you not trust me to take care of you?”
Eddie opened both of his eyes to see Steve pouting. Actually pouting like a child not getting their way. Over taking care of him.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“You’re not my babysitter. I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“But I could’ve taken care of you.”
Eddie’s brain short circuited. He lost every ability to form a coherent thought.
“Eddie?”
This was too much. Steve was too much.
“Can you get me that Tylenol please?”
Eddie felt the bed adjust to Steve standing up and heard him walk to the bathroom across the hall. He took the separation as a small blessing so he could get the very few thoughts running rampant through his brain in some semblance of order.
When Steve came back with the Tylenol and a glass of water in hand, Eddie sat up in his bed.
He took the pills and chugged most of the water, ignoring the angry look Steve was shooting him.
“Thanks. You can go if you want.”
Steve, stubborn idiot that he is, didn’t go. In fact, he pushed Eddie over in bed to make room for himself.
As Steve got comfortable next to him, Eddie lay his head on Steve’s chest and splayed his arm across his stomach.
Might as well go all in if this is a hallucination.
“Just get some rest, Eds.”
Eddie let his eyes flutter closed. The last thing he remembers before slipping into his illness and medication induced sleep was a light press of lips against the top of his head.
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AITA for being too close to my childhood best friend?
(This is so long I'm so sorry, there's just a fair bit of info.)
Me (22F) and Jake (23F) grew up together. Our mothers were friends for years and got pregnant around the same time, and we've basically been side by side our whole lives. We consider each other platonic soulmates and siblings.
Jake has had a girlfriend (Lucy, 23F) for the last seven months. I really like Lucy, she's so funny, so interesting, and she clearly makes Jake happy. There's been one or two awkward moments between us, but its never been anything that lingered or caused problems.
Now I know how people generally act/think about "the girl best friend" so when Jake said he was thinking of asking Lucy out, I made sure to back off a bit. Instead of having a brate (bro date, just hanging out doing something like bowling, Maccas, movie theatre, ect) once a week I said we should have one once a month, I don't call him just to hang on the phone together anymore, I make sure to not message at all on the days I know they have dates planned, ect.
I've really, really done my best to not get in the way, to make sure Lucy knows he really is just my brother, and I've tried to give them both space as someone who is not involved in their relationship.
I thought I was doing really well because its never really come up until this week. It was Jake and I's brate day and we decided to go to the mall so I could shop for clothes and he could get the slushies he likes there. Lucy knew where we'd be, and "happened" to show up, which was fine. Like I said, I like hanging out with her, and I actually thought it was cool I could get another girl's opinion on my outfit.
Jake decided to try on some clothes too while he was there and it turned into something of a mini fashion show of both of us showing off our possible choices. Lucy seemed to alternate between really having fun and going quiet. She refused to try on any herself but grinning and laughing while Jake and I were, and while we were taking turns playfully hyping each other up.
Jake tried on a pair of jeans and I was teasing him and said "damn dude, look at all that ass" trying to make him embarrassed. This was when Lucy muttered something I didn't quite hear, and politely suggested I should leave. Both Jake and I were really confused and taken aback and Lucy kind of shrugged and said things like this were things couples should do, and it was really inappropriate of me to make a sexual comment about her boyfriend while she was right there.
I didn't want to make a scene so I said I'd go, but Jake argued back and said it was clearly just joking around and he's sick of her getting upset at literally anything I do, or he does with me, which was surprising because it was the first I heard that she's had actual complaints.
We all wound up sitting down in the food court to talk and Lucy basically said that she's growing more and more uncomfortable with how close Jake and I are as her and Jake get closer, even though Jake and I's interactions have drastically dropped since they started dating. She thinks its weird we have friendship bracelets (our families went on a double vacation when we were 14 and me and Jake bought those cheap seaside shell bracelets in matching colors, that's literally it) and we hang out alone once a month (even though she's been invited multiple times and always refuses) and she thinks its even weirder than our families are so close and call us siblings.
I won't lie, it killed me inside, but I offered to back off entirely and only be around Jake in group settings, if at all, but Jake cut in and said that wasn't a compromise he was willing to make, and asked Lucy to talk more in private. They left together and trying to be respectful, I haven't reached out at all to either of them while they talk it through.
Jake's mom came over today to hang out with mine, and wound up telling me the last few days Jake has been stressed out, miserable, and isn't sure about staying with Lucy. She said it was a shame because Lucy seemed so nice, but she also said she was proud of him because I was family and Lucy's insecurity wasn't reasonable.
It made me feel sad and like I was hurting Jake by interfering with his relationship again, so I asked some of my online friends from a game I play and the opinion was kind of split. They all agreed I've never spoken about Jake in a way that hinted I liked him, but also that as girls, they'd feel weird anyway about knowing their boyfriend had this close bond with another girl, and they'd be wondering what the future would look like and if our friendship would get in the way of choices like moving, starting a family.
Now I feel completely lost and honestly a little scared of both losing Jake and apparently ruining his life by being so close to him. None of the rest of our IRL friend group has ever brought anything up about it, and I don't know if this is Lucy being jealous or if this is my fault.
What are these acronyms?
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axelsagewrites · 11 months
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For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...
Ned Stark*MiLord
Pairing: Ned Stark x f!reader
Summary: Ned befriends a baker who helps him manage his stress
Warnings: p i v sex, innuendos, oral m receiving, ig you could say cheating but Cat and Ned are privately separated cause I don't think Westeros would approve of divorce :/ 18+
Word count: 2992
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Masterlist Here
For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...
It was hard not to be an admirer of the Stark men especially when you were always so close by them. One Stark man that is. ever since your arrival at Winterfell it was hard to keep your eyes off Ned Stark.
You had come to Winterfell a few weeks ago for work and ended up getting a job in the kitchens as a baker. It often meant you were awake before the sun to make the bread for everyone else’s breakfast. However, once you were finished with your work for the day around noon you were free to do as you pleased unless the chef requested your assistance on an extra shift.
One morning for you and night for everyone else you awoke to venture down to the kitchens to prepare the seemingly never endless amount of bread needed for Winterfell. There were other bakers as well of course but you were always the first to arrive at the kitchens each morning.
The moon was still shining brightly over the castle, and you walked slowly to bask in its light. There was no one else awake and wandering the corridors so you didn’t bother to much with your clothes. You had of course thrown on a dress, but your chest was very much exposed in it, something you enjoyed doing but the up tightness of the rest of the North seemed to frown upon. You also opted to carrying your cloak and savour the cold breeze on your walk as once you reached the kitchens you knew you would be sweating till you left them. Any other time of day and you may have felt exposed at your careless dress.
The walk also served as a time for you to try and wake yourself, something you apparently had not been doing well. Perhaps he moved with swift silence or maybe you were too tired to notice but when you turned the corner suddenly you smacked into the man you admired in secret.
It was not a soft bump either as a yelp came from your lips and Ned had to grab your shoulders to steady you, “My Lord, I’m so sorry,” you breathed out, suddenly awake, “I did not hear you,”
“It was an accident don’t fret. I didn’t hear you either” he assured you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch comforted you more than his words, “What are you doing up so late?”
“So early,” you corrected with a small smirk, too tired to bite your tongue. Luckily Ned chuckled as his hands fell from your shoulders and suddenly you were cold again, “I’m off to start preparing the bread milord,”
“Ah a baker,” Ned smiled down at you, “I never realised how early you had to wake up,”
“Its hard to get used to,” you admitted, smiling yourself in his company, “But we do what we must. Im sure others have it much harder,”
Neds smile faltered before a sad one replaced it, “We do what we must,” he agreed, “I suppose I should let you get to it,” he said as he turned to walk away.
Without thinking, just wishing for a few more words, your hand shot out to grab his arm gently. Ned turned round with eyebrows furrowed but no anger in his face, “If you don’t mind me asking milord is everything okay? it’s awfully late for someone who has not slept to be awake,”
Ned sighed, “It is,” but you saw him force the smile back onto his face, “I couldn’t sleep very well. My mind is…very active at times,”
“I’m sorry milord,” your hand was still on his arm but slipped down to just above his wrist, your fingers ghosting the edge of the fabric of his sleeve, “If you ever need a friend milord, I’ve been told im an excellent listener,”
“I appreciate that truly, but I do not wish to burden you,”
“Tis not a burden milord. It is my desire to serve house Stark,” you told him, suddenly feeling bolder at how he allowed your touch. You lowered your hand to hold his softly and he let you. “Whether it be in baking your bread or lending an ear or whatever you desire milord. I came to Winterfell to serve,” his hands were rough and callused but warm and you craved his touch when you felt how they were against your own skin.
Neds’ breath caught in his throat, “You honour me…” he trailed off, waiting for you to give your name which you did. “(Y/N),” it sounded so sweet off his tongue, “But I think it is time I found a bed,”
“Very well milord,” you took your hand back from his and you swore you saw him reach for it again before correcting himself, “Sweet sleep milord,” and with that you walked away, deliberately slow with a slight sway in your hips as you felt his eyes on you. however, once you turned the corridor you scurried to the kitchens
That was your first encounter with Lord Eddard but not your last. Occasionally you began to bump into the Lord on your walks to the kitchens. You were beginning to think he deliberately stayed up later to see you but then you had began waking earlier as well. He began to walk you down to the kitchens, sometimes even talking with you in the kitchen as you awaited your fellow bakers. Slowly but surely, he began to open to you.
He told you of the struggles he had with his fellow lords and his general duties but then he confirmed what many had speculated. He had essentially separated from Lady Catelyn after many arguments and fights. She had taken up her own chambers and only spoke to him regarding their children or in front of the other nobles.
From the bags around his eyes, you could tell it had not been an easy conclusion to come to. “It must be so hard to have to sleep alone again,” you said as you walked to the kitchens, Ned by your side.
Ned sighed but nodded, “Aye well I don’t know what else I can do,”
“There’s nothing you can do,”
“I made a vow,”
“It is not your fault she won’t let you love her,” you told him, trying to bring him some comfort, “You swore to protect her, and you have, give her children which you did, you have broken no vow,”
Another heavy sigh fell from his lips. You linked your arm with his, something you knew he was originally hesitant of but not once had someone even seen you walking together so now, he was more open to your touches. “I don’t understand how she could do it,” you said, and Ned shot you a curious look, “If you were my husband, I don’t think I would be able to leave your chambers to start with,” you said with a teasing smile.
Ned chuckled at your boldness. Up until now he had never reciprocated your flirtations or innuendos, you had even noticed him glancing at your chest in the past. He would always chuckle and move on. “If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you leave them,” this night was different.
“You flatter me milord,” you said, placing a hand to your chest in fake shock.
His eyes lingered on your chest before flickering back up to your face that still wore its teasing smirk, “I’m sure you’ve experienced much flattery before,”
“I have,” your cockiness made him laugh again, “but hearing it from you is the sweetest of sounds,”
“You pay me too much mind,” he chastised with a smile. “I enjoy our early mornings,” he confessed.
You stopped walking, now outside of the kitchen door you would be trapped behind for hours, “As do I. I only wish…” you trailed off, your eyes never leaving his.
“Wish what?” he asked.
Stepping closer, you rested your hand on his chest. You only wished you could strip him of his tunic right there, “That you would finally invite me to your chambers,”
“I- “Ned began to stutter.
 But you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before placing your hand on the handle to the kitchen, “I need to go to work. Goodbye Milord,” you grinned before quickly disappearing into the kitchens leaving a shocked Ned behind.
Perhaps you had went to far when Ned did not appear the next morning for your usual stroll however it got more curious when you learned he did not appear in any halls. The servants and staff at Winterfell were like flies on the wall so it did not take long to hear what had happened. Apparently, breakfast had been tense for seemingly no reason then Ned withdrew completely to the gods wood where he stayed till dinner. While the rest of the Starks dined, he went to his chambers, not even taking a bite of food with him.
Luckily you were friends with the people cleaning up the kitchens after dinner, so they didn’t comment on the food you had swopped into your basket. Even when the halls were busy no one seemed to notice you. you were able to get to Ned’s chambers in no time, somewhere you had dreamed of but never entered.
Before you knocked you pressed your ear against the door listening for any sounds before knocking when you were sure he was alone. “Who is it?” a grumpy voice shouted through the door.
“It’s me milord,” There was silence again for a moment before the door opened revealing Ned in just his undershirt and trousers, “I brought you some supper milord,”
Ned glanced up the empty hallway first before he moved to the side to let you walk in. his chambers were filled with soft greys and blues. He had a fire going in the hearth and the drapes were drawn so only the flames and a few candles lit the room. You noticed how comfortable his four-poster bed looked in comparison to your own cot. The life of a lord you supposed.
“You’re too kind my dear,” he said as he latched the door behind you. he gestured for you to sit at the table he and you complied, placing the basket on the table. “Im sorry I couldn’t make our stroll this morning,”
“Its alright milord. You can make it up to me another time,” you said with a slight smirk as you began to unload the basket onto the table. Ned took a seat across from you as he looked at the mini feast you had brought him, “You spoil me,”
“You deserve it milord. You work harder than anyone else at Winterfell,” you reached out to hold his hand, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin. “I worry about you,”
“You needn’t worry love,” Ned placed his hand over yours, “You’ve already done so much for me. You’ve been a gift from the gods.” You chuckled at his words. You were sure the gods would not approve of what their gift to Ned had been thinking about.
Ned ate some of his food but insisted you ate also. You moved your chair closer during your talk so you would be sat shoulder to shoulder with him. This gave you the perfect opportunity to lean in ways that exposed your chest which Ned was quick to look at. It also allowed for your hand to rest on his arm or shoulder or to wipe something off his face. Any excuse to touch him really.
You were laughing at one of his jokes when Ned smiled down at you, “I’m not sure what your fascination is with me love because no one’s ever laughed that hard at my jokes,”
“It’s not my fault no one else has appreciated you properly Lord Stark,” you leaned closer with a teasing smile. Neds’ eyes locked with yours and slowly you moved ever so closer.
Ned leaned forward slightly, faltering as he did, “We shouldn’t,” he murmured.
“Why not?” you whispered as your nose bumped with his.
“It’s wrong,”
“But how can it be wrong,” your lips were now ghosting over his, “when it feels so right?” Ned swallowed hard as he did his best not to lose composure under your gaze. “Don’t you deserve to relax Ned? To have some fun?”
The words must have got to him cause suddenly his lips crashed onto yours, his hand going to the back of your neck to hold you close. You gasped at first but quickly your lips fell into sink. It was you that introduced tongues but finally Ned didn’t seem to complain. He groaned when you pulled out of the kiss. you pulled your skirt up around your legs to allow you to climb into his lap easier before connecting your lips to his again.
His hands found your knees before slowly making their up your thighs, his fingers squeezing into the flesh at the top of your thighs. You manoeuvred slightly so that your clothed core would be above his cock which you could feel harden under the friction. Without warning you began to roll your hips into his which caused him to half groan and moan into the kiss and for his member to harden considerably more. His hands found your hips to help you set the pace.
“I want you,” you broke the kiss, pressing your forehead onto his, “I’ve been waiting all these weeks,”
Ned gripped your hips and stood up, pulling you with him. You couldn’t help a giggle as he quickly dropped you onto the bed. It was so much softer than you had imagined. Ned stood above you, his hands pulling off his shirt, “Are you sure about this love?” he asked. “We don’t have to,”
You sat up quickly, grabbing him by the waistband of his trousers to pull him closer, “I’m sure. This is what I want. I want you,”
Ned leaned down and placed a hungry kiss to your lips before you helped him rid himself of his trousers, letting his hard cock spring free. Ned crawled above you, kissing your neck, before loosening the strings at the front of your dress and pulling it down off your body, taking your shift with it. “You’re perfect,” he praised as he placed a kiss to your breast, squeezing the other with his hand.
You whined from which touch; your body almost jolting when he took your nipple into his mouth. “Please,” you whimpered under him.
“Please what?” Ned asked, realising your nipple before continuing to trail wet kisses across your skin up to your neck.
You stopped him, taking his face in your hands and looking him in his eyes. You brought his face closer to yours so that your lips brushed against his as you spoke. “Please fuck me,”
Ned’s lips crashed onto yours as his hand went between your bodies to find his cock. He took it in his hands and lined it up at your entrance, his tip rubbing against your wet folds. Finally, after weeks of tension and stress you gasped as he slid into you. a burning sensation took over your as he slowly filled you up. Ned stilled for a moment, his head lowering so he could kiss your neck. “Tell me when love,” he said, his voice husky and his eyes closed.
Finally feeling at ease, with a smirk, you began bucking your hips up, rolling them into his, causing Ned to release a loud groan, “Fuck,” he gasped as he began to thrust into you, his hands at either side of your head, “You feel so fuck- good,” Ned praised as his eyes screwed tighter shut with pleasure.
Your arm wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to yours again for sloppy kisses as he continued his messy thrusts. Soon ned began to find a rhythm. He broke the kiss to lick his fingers before using them to rub circles on your clit. Moans began to fall from your throat, but Ned silenced them with his own lips. Your nails trailed down his back as you tried to conceal the moans he was causing.
Ned let out his own groans and soft moans which became strangled when your walls began to clench around him. You felt his cock twitching and began to roll your hips to meet him. His thrusts began faster but sloppier. Neds’ lips fell from yours, his head hanging low into your shoulder as he sped up. “Fuck, I can’t fuck,” he gasped as he quickly pulled out and fell to lay beside you, his cock still red and angry.
His hand went to move to his member, but you moved quicker. Without waiting for instruction, you moved to take him into your mouth. Ned gasped as your head bobbed up and down on his hard cock that was still wet from moments before. His hand went to your hair and within a few bobs of your mouth he was coating your mouth with his seed.
He was like a man gasping for air when you came up. “You still need to,” Ned tried to speak but you stopped him, placing a strong but brief kiss to his lips.
“Its okay milord,” you smiled as you held his face in your hands, “Another time?”
Ned grinned at your words, “Aye my lady. Another time for sure,”
No one was quite sure what had happened during Ned Starks seclusion but everyone at Winterfell noticed how much more relaxed he looked the next day.
Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy 
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draxumain · 4 months
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I AM IN CONTROL AFFIRMATION TAPE REVIEW
Heyy!!
It's officially been a week since I've used @adambja self-concept affirmation tape, and oh boy, do I have some news!!
I made a list of all the things I was going to manifest beforehand, you know, to tick them all off.
I followed her instructions, and listened to it everyday for 1 hour. I listened whilst I ate, studied, on the way to my courses and whilst I was chilling. I didn't want to stress and strain myself by finding time and forcing myself to listen to them so I instead mixed it into my busy schedule rather than separating it, because why not?
And oh boy, the results were glorious!
Here's the list of what I wanted to manifest, I wanted them to come In at a comfortable need to want type pace rather than instantly like I did before biggest kisses to shadow work for helping me slow tf down and prioritise both my wants and needs in a healthy manner 🫶🏾
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RESULTS:
: Soooo I met this cute girl at school, she ticks so many of my boxes!! She's the talker, physically affection, cute nicknames I love it!! Currently just talking and flirting but I'm excited go see where this goes, ticks off my wlw relationship! I wanted something slow and meaningful, she's a little fast but meaningful I think it's the talking stage exciting jitters we'll see how it goes once she takes a breather. But I'm enjoying our time together.
: Dreams have been a lot more vivid! Dream recall sucks ass cause my sleep schedule and daily nutritional intakes are fucked give me a minute to fix those and lucid dreaming will natural for me I swear you guys 😭 I had such a realistic dream today I mixed it up with real life, everything felt so real it was insanely bizarre
: I feel a lot more direct and open to shifting now in comparison to last week, my mindset towards it has gone from "I need to do x then x otherwise it won't work I need to do everything properly or else I'll fail" to "Fuck it what I say goes"
I no longer pay great attention to the 3D but I still have a healthy view point to this reality which is something I always struggled with, detachment lead to dissociation which lead to hard core depression. We're feeling good right now though!
Something I tried to manifest before hand finally came up, simple thing but I wanted to wake up with my eyes closed, remain still and instantly remember shifting. This is so I could shift through my most preferred shifting state which required for me to wake up eyes closed and bam! Shift.
But I always woke up with my eyes open, it was a struggle. Not anymore folks!!
: My YouTube video views are increasing, I had a slow recent video that was barely moving its now getting 1k views per day and I'm a few subscribers away to my next milestone goal 30k which I wasn't close to last week
: I made a money review riggght here! It's for her money affirmation tape however the I am in control tape played a role too! Powerful duo 101% recommend using both <3
: My eyelashes are looking a lot fuller and my eyes are alot more sharper and more outlined, hope that makes sense. You, can actually tell the shape of if it's nice and sharp. Nose is also a little more narrow, I didn't want it to narrow gotta love what my ancestors gave me <3 that's on black beauty
: Hair is in twists I can see my roots getting longer which means there's growth that happend after the twists! There wasn't that much growth before hand, so waist length hair here I come!!
OK, that's all now, ily tysm adambja!! <3
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mayfieldss · 1 year
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On the dock - Pope Heyward
Summary; an expansion on date nights with Pope from my dating Pope Heyward headcanons.
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Over the past couple of weeks, you and Pope had hardly spent any time alone together. You were busy chasing adventures with the other Pouges, hunting gold, and running from danger, and whilst that was exhilarating, Pope just wanted some time with his girl.
The last few days had been quiet and free of stress for everyone but Pope. He was filled with anxiety, thinking over the perfect way to spend time with you before everything got hectic again. He hadn't actually taken you on a proper date yet, and the pressure he felt to do it right was beyond insane. You'd told him he didn't need to do anything, that you were just content to sit with him and do absolutely nothing, but Pope wanted to do something special to show you just how much you meant to him.
He had some semblance of a plan but pulling it all together was the struggle of it all, and when it was finally done, Pope's main concern was whether you would like it.
"Okay, close your eyes." Pope put an arm around your waist leading you down the dock.
"If you push me into the water Heyward, I swear to god-"
"I'm not pushing you anywhere, and no peeking." Pope put a hand over your eyes as you tried to open them. Your laugh was sweet and soft as he did so, and he was praying to whatever god could hear that you would be happy to see what he set out.
You had your hands out in front of you, as if afraid to bump into something or trip, but Pope wouldn't let you fall. "Okay," Pope stopped walking, pulling you back to him when you continued to move forward with your eyes closed. "Feel free to open your eyes whenever."
You did as you were told, and Pope watched your eyes light up, though that might have been a trick of the light from the lamps placed before you.
"Pope, wow." He watched as you placed a hand over your mouth, taking in everything he'd done. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips.
There were little oil lamps, and a blanket laid out on the dock, a picnic basket set in the middle of all of it, and you turned to him, only for your eyes to widen further. Pope had pulled a bouquet of hand-picked wildflowers from behind his back, tied neatly in a blue ribbon.
"Pope-" You had tears in your eyes, the lamplight reflecting off of them as you took everything in, and for a second Pope was filled with concern. But you leapt into his arms then, hugging him tight and almost crushing the flowers, had Pope not moved them quickly.
"You okay?" he mutters the words against your hair, but he's smiling because he thinks you like it, he hopes you like it.
"You're amazing." You pull back as you say it, and you're grinning wide, causing him to do the same. A second passes before you're kissing him deeply and Pope is over the moon about it, holding you just that little bit tighter.
When you sit down, taking in everything, Pope points to the sky.
"You see how that star is shining brighter than the rest?"
You look up and nod, taking in the night air "yeah."
"That's because it's a planet, not a star."
"For real?" You look to him a little wide-eyed and Pope puts an arm around you, pulling you into his side.
"Yeah."
"What planet is it?" You turn your head to face him again, and he's so close that your noses almost touch. It's thrilling and it's fun.
"Honestly, I'd have to look that up, but I know it's a planet." Pope laughs nervously, and you kiss him, bringing back his confidence in an instant. Even if this is the last date you and Pope will have for a while, you're okay with it and so is he, because it's the most memorable thing you've ever done together.
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AN: I'm sorry it's short but I literally had to write this in thirty minutes so, send help.
GENERAL TAGLIST; : @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber @s00buwu
OUTER BANKS TAGLIST; empty
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May I request and 1996 Shauna Shipman x Fem!reader? Where Shauna is a vampire and she gets with reader?
It's okay if you can I just wanted to ask
Teeth (pt.1)
͙⁺・༓☾ - Summary: You had been attacked by a wild ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎animal, if it even was one. You slowly ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎begin to question your friends behaviour.
Pairing: Vampire!Shauna Shipman x reader
Warnings: blood/gore
Part two
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A blood rush induced haze, one hand limp, heart heavy with numb ground assailing legs; you ran. You didn't know how long you were running for, but you knew you couldn't stop, because it wouldn't. you couldn't feel the bottom half of your body, you traced the foreboding forest with your teary eyes, unsure of where to go. Looking behind, you'd convinced yourself that it was gone, that bloodlust creature that sunk its teeth into you on your way back home, and so you slid down against a rough tree, the wind healing the soreness in your breathless throat and the scorching heat that built up in your face.
"Yeah, I don't know, I think it was a wolf or something" you sat in the cafeteria the next day with a few of your friends, "Oh my god I'm so sorry (y/n), I knew I should've driven you home" Lottie apologised, "Are there wolves in New Jersey? I'm not sure we have them, it could've been a serial killer y'know.." Van exclaimed spookily to your side, you simply gave her a confused look. "I didn't know you were out yesterday night, is the wound bad?" Shauna asked across the table in front of you, weirdly sincere guilt covering her expression. You adjusted the bandage on your upper arm, "The doctors said it could take a few weeks to heal, luckily I didn't have to stay overnight at the hospital, but goddamn it hurts. The worst part is that they don't even know what could've bitten me." It hurt, a lot. You were taking so many painkillers that you were constantly disoriented, barely keeping up with school assignments. "You can stay at mine tonight if it helps," Shauna offered. It made sense, she lived further away from the place that you were attacked, and you couldn't help but fear walking there again. "And I could drive you home whenever you want." She finished, you accepted the invitation, it would probably cause you less stress, and you'd most likely manage to convince her to help you study. Shauna cursed herself out, mentally - why had she offered? She cant be close to you, nothing good will come out of it. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought, you noticed.
After school you wanted to go straight home. You sat in Shauna's car, "Hey, thank you for this, Shauna." You watched her as a slight smile painted her worried face, "Of course."
"You can sleep on the bed," she gestured, "No, no it's okay, I'm not going to steal your bed too." You chuckled, she laughed back, "No really, I don't mind," Both of you left it at that, going downstairs to watch TV. You caught onto the fact that she would stay as far from you as possible, do I smell? What's up with her.
You felt bad, I mean you basically just decided to live at Shauna's house, though she did offer after all. You admired how she kept her bedroom neat and tidy, the art on her walls, though you noticed something odd when she opened her closet. A white t-shirt, ripped at the torso with a few blood stains. As much as you could brush it off - it worried you, maybe even scared you. You didn't ask, however. It felt weird to pry after she'd been so kind to you after your attack.
You two were listening to music in her bedroom, you watched her as she danced while drawing something, it felt like every other time you'd stay over at hers. You sang along, "This is my favourite song." Hearing you, she turned up the volume, "Me too," she sat beside you on the bed, still miles away somehow, "I have a whole collection of CDs if you wanna check it out? I also have a bunch of movies on VHS if you wanna watch something.." Shauna looked at you deeply, watching the way your hair moved with you, how your body listened to her words closely. And In all honesty you felt happy, you liked being around her.
You smiled, hugging her. "Shit, (y/n)." She stood up so quickly, mouth agape and sad eyes in worry. "Are you okay? Did I do something? Shauna I'm sorry I just wanted to-" She cut you off, you stared at her in attempt to figure out what the fuck was going on, and right before she turned away the bedroom light highlighted a slight crimson glow in her eye, almost unnoticeable. "It's nothing, I mean you didn't do anything, I'm sorry." Suddenly the music felt like dull background noise, you looked away, bewildered. She sat back down on her desk as if nothing happened. You began worrying, worrying too much for your own good. "Shauna, talk to me." Receiving no response, you followed up, this time trying even harder to get her to talk. "Why do you have a blood stained shirt? It's all ripped up - are you okay? Tell me what's going on!" "It's nothing okay? Forget it." Finally seeing more than just the shakiness of her head from behind, you raised your eyebrows as she turned to you. "No it doesn't make sense, you invite me over to your house but don't want to be around me." This time both of you stand up, flaring your arms around as you two argued about nothing. "There's nothing wrong, alright! Gosh why do you have to be so.."
"So what?"
"Nothing."
The rest of the night was quiet, her parents weren't home, so she had decided to sleep in their room instead. The only time you two would really speak was when it was necessary. It felt wrong, all of it. Arguing with Shauna was at the bottom of your bucket list, you never argued with her. It's not like you two never hugged before, you were close friends and were always getting up into each others faces, she'd just act weird around you lately.
In the meantime you had noticed Shauna would sneak out in the middle of the night, and on top of everything else, it made you jittery; confused, most importantly distressed.
"Lot, somethings up with Shauna, I know it"
"Shes probably just on her period or something"
"Really, Lottie? That's the dumbest thing you could say right now." You sat in the lockers after practice, on the complete other side of Jackie and Shauna. "You keep looking at her, just to talk to her I mean you guys practically live together now she can't just block you out?" You scoffed at Lottie, it had been a few days since you started sleeping over at Shauna's. "She can and she has, I barely even speak to her, she won't tell me anything." Tying your laces extra tight, Lottie reassured you. "The Halloween party's soon, everything will be fine. But... she could be turning into a werewolf or something, watch out!" She crept up and jumped at you as you finished tying your laces, your heart skipped a beat "Shit Lottie don't do that!" She laughed menacingly before helping you pack up. Admittedly, you were on edge, fighting with Shauna wasn't the best for your stress levels, and your arm hadn't gotten any better. If anything, it hurt even more.
"Hey, (y/n)." Shauna stopped you outside of the changing rooms. "Shauna?" Darkness cast her under eyes, she clearly wasn't sleeping. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you." Her sheepish stance didn't bother you, at this point you were just upset. "And yet you're still standing 3 feet away from me." Stern, just how you meant to say it. She swallowed her words, carefully tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, you looked at her every detail, still searching for answers. Shauna wanted to be close to you, she wanted to hug you, she wanted to listen to music with you without having to be careful - but she just couldn't.
"I'm going home today, don't worry." You began walking off. "Wait - (y/n), you don't have to leave," She was cut off, "I do, clearly." You tried your hardest not to sound like an asshole, but you really believed she didn't want you there, and she did nothing to disprove that. Shauna was still staring at you, pleading with nothing but guilt in her eyes. "You can't go, how will you get home? You live so far away from everything I won't be able to drive you home everyday." You dismissed her tries to reason your stay, "You won't have to, I'm not counting on that." Still metres away.
"What? Don't tell me you're going to walk, what if that person attacks you again?"
"Person? Shauna it was an animal, why would a person bite me, and it's probably gone by now. Just forget it."
"No, stay."
A sense of urgency lingered in her voice, you wanted to ask why she pleaded so much for you to stay, but you just walked away.
It would be a lie to say you didn't feel scared walking home. As you inched closer to the place you got attacked, the sun began setting and your hands began shaking, you could almost feel the adrenaline ready to kick in at any moment, but nothing happened. You were out of the forest, or so you thought. Relief began settling until it was broken by the bushes in front of you.
Blood filled eyes chased after you, you stood for a moment, cursing yourself for not just giving into Shauna. You glared at it, as much as you could considering how fast it was moving. It looked human. You ran back into the trees as fast as your legs could carry you, weak from your state. Branches cut and bruised you, reopening the wound that impaled your arm. Van was right all along, and you were wrong to act so reckless.
Ruptured moonlight casted onto your vision, soon distrusted by the red eyes you sought to escape. They moved around, cautious of nearing you. Regaining consciousness, you had realised you failed. You ran so fast and failed. It was now upon you, as you felt a pair of eyes stalking you. You smelled it, the blood, creeping around you like flies to rot. "Oh my god. Fuck." A familiar voice startled you, though you were in such a daze it all sounded distorted. You gave into the voice, seeking aid from anything you could. "Shauna?", weak, but hopeful, you spoke.
"(y/n), I'm so sorry, please just.."
The distortion began to dissipate, fading away into the night as you tried your hardest to get up, vision focusing on the face in front of you. The pale moonlight accentuated her face in all the right ways, her pretty doe eyes looked sadder than they ever were as they attempted to look at you without squinting, her lips were ridden with thick blood as they trembled. You sat up, in silence for a moment as the hurt throughout your body seeped in while the adrenaline left entirely. "Shauna, what happened?" You desperately hoped it was the last time you had to ask her that, hoped that she would give an answer to all of this, hoped that you wouldn't have to be stuck in the endless, incoherent maze that you thought only occurred in your restless dreams. "I'm sorry," She began trying to construct her sentence, you shifted your gaze onto her ripped, blood soaked flannel.
"It's me (y/n),"
"I attacked you."
Another phase of silence stayed within the air momentarily. You closed your eyes for a moment, unable to focus on her words while trying to adjust your eyes. You stuttered for a second, blocking out the pain shooting throughout your entire body as hard as you could.
"You?"
"I would do anything to take it back, I swear, please just," Shauna despised it, all of it. She hated who she had become and it consumed her. She looked at your fragile state, how you pleaded with your gaze for her to give you an answer, an explanation.
"I'm a vampire, (y/n)." Those were the last words you expected to hear from her. Shauna never even admitted it to herself, she doesn't know how it happened, she just dealt with it, and now you had to too. "Don't joke around Shauna, I'm being serious." Your voice whiny and sore, seeking for an ending to all of this. "I am serious, I swear, just let me take you to a hospital, you're bleeding out" You interrupted her increasingly louder voice.
"Prove it."
"What?" She was metres away from you yet again, it all began to make sense, but it seemed surreal. Vampires were fiction, you couldn't wrap your head around it unless she showed you. Lifting yourself up from the ground, you looked at her.
"I cant do it (y/n), it's dangerous."
"Just do it, please. I'm tired."
Her body whispered towards you, moving alongside the peace bringing wind. You watched her eyes shine red. It wasn't a pronounced red, it was a certain glow that you couldn't describe, shuffling in between the honey brown colour that she had. You, on the other hand, were drenched in red, you knew what it would do to a vampire, though her presence omitted a strange security that wrapped around you. Shauna tried her hardest not to hurt you, you knew how much she cared for you, but this time it was different. You stared at her as she stood before you, the closeness you hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. You wanted to feel the warmth of her again, her touch. After the attack it all seemed to disappear.
If you focused your eyes enough you could see how her canines had been honed all of a sudden, like the edge of a blade. Tears formed in her eyes with every step she took, you steadied yourself as you began to feel the brunt of your wounds. You could tell she was hungry, and it controlled you, just as it controlled her. You began acting more reckless by the second, yearning for her.
"Kiss me"
Her mouth pronounced a shaky o shape, exposing her fangs to you unintentionally. Ever since she had accidentally bitten you, her hunger for you grew, and you could sense it.
"Shauna, please."
Bloodlust eyes watched your fresh wounds in avoidance, unsure hands resting on your body.
She had given into her hunger for you, roughly matching her lips to yours. You fell into the kiss, feeling the stabbing of her fangs onto your bottom lip. Your gashes ached as her hands gripped you like you were prey. Her lust tasted metallic, you ran your hands through her messed up hair, though it was too much for her. In a flash, she had disappeared.
Woken up by the peering eyes of your doctor, the fluorescent hospital lights burned your eyes. You noticed gifts on the bedside table and 'get well soon cards', but none from Shauna.
"Tell me your full name, please."
"(y/n) (y/l/n)."
"Do you recall what happened to you?"
You were unsure of what to say, it all felt like a hazy dream.
"No, I passed out."
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writteninwormwood · 2 months
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After a few days to collect my thoughts, here's how I feel about the PJO show after episode 6 First of all, to not make myself a hypocrite, I stand by what I said last week: the show is improving, and I think it's very well-made show on its own and way more faithful to the books than the movies ever were. I'm honestly surprised I even have to say that, but people online have been drawing constant comparisons. That said, there are a few issues, especially with this latest episode. As many have pointed out online, the stakes in this show are practically nonexistent. Sometimes the show feels almost a bit documentary to me, though I attribute most of that feeling to the fact that I know what will happen. The stakes in this case, however, I don't take the blame for.
This post has slight spoilers, especially for those of you who have yet to read The Lightning Thief. You have been warned.
TL;DR: The casino was underwhelming and the twist ending makes me nervous. Also, We fell in love with the story as it is. No one expects it to be 1:1, but to change it for the sake of keeping us in suspense isn't what we really want.
The casino, without a doubt, is a tricky element to implement faithfully. In the book, it has bumper cars, ski slopes, and all kinds of games. That sounds expensive and hard to pull off, I understand why they didn't go this way. However, I also understand why they couldn't just tone the casino itself down and have the kids act the same way they did in the book. After all, what kind of look is it if you take a real-looking casino and show a montage of actual children having the time of their life in it? Could there have been a better compromise here? Yes, but I still understand that these are the kinds of problems the show will have to face as it attempts to practically recreate a fantasy novel. However, there is one thing about their time in the casino that I (along with everyone on Reddit, lol) find to derive away from the books pretty much to a point of no return: the stakes.
It's been close to eight years since I first read The Lightning Thief (so if I'm wrong about anything, please tell me!), but I do somewhat remember how the unveiling of the Lotus Casino's curse went. To me, it marked two very important moments in both the book and the series as a whole. 1) The trio rests. I remember by this point in the book, I had felt bad for Percy and gang cause of the absolute hell they just went through. When they decided to stay at Lotus for a while and play games, I didn't blame them. They were finally able to have fun, as (at least in Percy and Annabeth's case) pre-teens are supposed to do. It was the first time they got to relax and have fun and not worry about the quest. At this point, I wouldn't even blame them for ditching the quest altogether. It was almost impossible. Even if they felt as if they had extra time, the road that lied ahead of them was dangerous and would almost certainly end in death. Lotus promised them an eternity of fun activities, how could they say no? Which leads me directly into my second point: 2) Percy is wrong. I am well aware that the books being in Percy's POV is the hardest problem the show needs to remedy, that said, the Lotus Casino struck me as extremely important because for the first time in the book, I had to question how reliable Percy was as a narrator. Like I said above, when he was first giving in to the Lotus' trap, I thought he was being genuine! I thought they were genuinely tired and just wanted to have a little fun. The realization Percy makes that the Casino is a trap and the subsequent realization that they had spent four days in what felt like a matter of hours was huge because it showed that Percy never actually wavered from his heroic spirit, he was being tricked into doing so. The show, in my opinion, deviated too far from the source on both of these points. The journey up until this point felt nowhere near as stressful as the books did. I blame this primarily in the episodes being 30-40 mins instead of 50-60, as well as the fact that the season was only greenlit for 8 episodes (I really hope season 2 is double length). Regardless, information is given way too easily in the show. I know it's hard to show the Percy's inner thoughts through the screen, but at least have him figure stuff out! Don't just have Hermes make a snide remark at Percy who then instantly realizes what happened. Let Percy be wrong. Have him talk to Annabeth and try and convince her to stay. Tell her she's being too uptight and they have plenty of time to reach the Underworld. These are the things that made the Lotus Casino so important. We got to see the trio have fun, almost like a checkpoint making sure they still really wanted to complete the quest. I mean, who in their right mind would continue to risk their life when they're in a place that provides them with free housing and entertainment forever? The trio's carelessness with the extra time they had before the solstice is what made it such a gut-punch when you find out that they had stayed there for longer than they perceived: the shock didn't simply come from the fact that time was up. This brings me to what I will call: The elephant in the room. The deadline has passed. Percy receives four pearls instead of three. What gives? I don't hate to see the change and, despite what the majority of this posts suggests, I am still a huge fan of the show. However, part of me wonders whether the changes to make them miss the solstice and include a fourth pearl were made just to throw off book-readers. It seems odd, but it's the only reason that I can see right now that explains it. Hopefully the next two episodes will prove me wrong, but if I'm not, let me say this: We fell in love with the story as it is. No one expects it to be 1:1, but to change it for the sake of keeping us in suspense isn't what we really want. I feel like that sums up all of it pretty well, so I'll leave it as that and make it my TL;DR. I am curious to see the conclusion of the show and despite it all am still praying for a season 2.
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3rd entry in @mcspirkevents Mcspirk month. Here's my piece for SFW; 3-12; vulnerability. Although it also fits quite well with: Lost the ability to speak & McCoy hurt with Spock&Kirk comfort.
3 in one 🎉🤣
Warnings
Nothing serious! Just some gore and a brief mention of sex.
A03 link
(↑click for bonus content)
It's not like I love Spock; that can't be it.
Leonard McCoy stood over his sink; shaken, weak, frightened. The pretty pink and blue petals were scattered across the bowl of the sink and its countertop, along with traces of blood. After a long month of hiding and self-medicating and panicking, it was over; because a single fully formed hydrangea flower rested there in the bowl of the sink. He had a death sentence.
The hanahaki disease had been plaguing space-faring species for millions of years. Bearing striking similarity to its human-chosen namesake, it was brutal, untreatable, and embarrassing. It was unknown what planet it originated from, or why some people were simply immune, but the moment a being came into contact with the undetectable irremovable spores that caused the bloom, they were a carrier for the disease, and the simple act of respiration would spread the spores; then it was just a matter of an unfortunate and precise mixture of epinephrine, oxytocin, cotinine, dopamine, and MAO-A triggering the bloom. The only cure was a particular level of endorphins, oxytocin, cotinine, and dopamine. No doctor had ever been able to cure it with synthetic chemical induction—it had to be natural. If someone was lucky—like ensign Shani, who had come in coughing up petals and blood just a few months prior—all they would need is cough medicine and someone to comfort them, and it would just get lost like that. But if the flowers started coming out whole, the survival rate dropped to a 12% chance, because they'd be dead within the week. The flowers would climb your throat, clog your larynx, fill your mouth, and once you were bed-bound and hardly breathing the spores would start to turn your flesh to flowers too. 
When have you ever been lucky, McCoy?
He washed up his face and started cleaning up the sink. He planned his day in his head in the meantime. A warm mug of ginger honey tea to cut down on the pain, applesauce to get something in his stomach without irritating his throat even worse, getting dressed in his uniform, preparing some comfy clothes for the eventuality of being taken off duty, and then breaking the news. He braced himself against the sink as another coughing fit started up. Breaking the news to whom first; Chris, who would take it hard and break the news to everyone else herself. Or Jim, who would definitely immediately start his line of questioning as to who it was that brought it on. Or maybe he'd finally break his rule on not using the L word, because a captain must maintain professional distance from his crew, even if he'd known Jim since he was an ensign, even when Jim was constantly all over Spock. 
Maybe it was Jim. 
As McCoy drank his tea he considered the possibility of Jim being what he wanted. The thing was, he knew he had Jim. Sure, James T. Kirk would never say I love you, but he would hug him, or kiss him on the cheek in private, and of course, he would allow sex for de-stressing purposes (or just because).
Leonard fidgeted with the fabric of his shirt over his stomach. The pain of the spores eating at his insides wasn't even close to how horribly his throat burned, yet. Although, maybe he was just nauseous and the spores hadn't even started mutating him. He wouldn't dare skip a meal and find out. 
It couldn't be as simple as getting Jim to say I love you. But it wouldn't hurt, getting a real admission from him before dying. 
What I wouldn't do for a last slice of real fresh peach pie, he thought as he replicated his applesauce. 
He was getting sick of soup and tea and applesauce. 
~
Chris had reacted just as poorly as he thought she would. Of course—he hadn't actually told her. He'd called Jim to his office “to discuss an important, personal, matter”, and before he made it back out he had to cough; just a little cough, he'd thought. Before he even realized it, he was staggered against a wall, and then crumpled on the floor, surrounded by a blur of blood and little blue flowers. 
Christine had picked him up and got him to a bed. She was always stronger than he expected, or maybe he'd lost weight. "I knew it wasn't just a cold! Leonard- how could you let it get so bad!?" Chris scolded him, already tearing up. He couldn't completely hear her but he knew what she said. 
"Chris, I-" He choked up as another petal caught in his throat. 
"No—don't talk." She dabbed at the blood at the corner of his mouth with a tissue, but she was shaking through her barely-together facade of firm professionalism. Leonard wanted to apologize. He’d really just been embarrassed, is all. Death by hurt feelings over not being told, I love you, was just ridiculous. While he was agonizing over it Chris went on and on, chastising him as she set him up with IVs and hypos to ease his pain. She stopped, mid-sentence, when Jim came in. Laying eyes on the situation was clearly enough for the captain to realize two basic things in succession; 1, Bones had called him here to tell him he was sick. 2, Bones had that flower disease. The thing that had something to do with emotional issues.
Jim rushed up to his bedside. "Bones!" He grabbed McCoy's hand tightly. "Bones.." Jim saw the petals scattered across his pillow. He knew enough to understand it was bad. "What can we do for him? What can we do? How do you fix this?" He practically begged. Which certainly made McCoy feel loved.
Chris shook her head slowly, looking at the floor. "Captain, there is no artificial cure."
"Then what's the natural one?" His tone forced. 
"Well- it's,, a love sickness… In layman's terms, the cure is,, a confession.”
“A confession? A confession. Romantically?”
“Yes.. From whomever his feelings are for.”
“..Would you give us some privacy,, Nurse?”
Chapel gave him a pitiful look. It was always painfully easy to tell what the captain was thinking. And she knew full well that McCoy knew he loved him. Nonetheless, she honored the request, leaving them be.
Bones let Kirk sit in silence for a moment, visualizing the cogs turning in his head. The expression on his friend’s face was truly miserable. That kicked-puppy-dog expression he tended to get. He was clearly mulling over the words in his head. He, even now, needed a push. How hurtful; that even with McCoy lying on his deathbed he couldn't say it. Yet, the fact he loved him wasn't in doubt. Jim Kirk was simply a repressed fool. “..Jim...” The name tore at his throat on the way out. 
Kirk looked him in the eyes. Begging with them that he wouldn’t have to admit his affections. 
“What’re you doing..?” Leonard heard the rust in his words, tasted the blood, felt the scraping of his larynx on itself. “Why did-” He couldn't push the words out past another coughing fit. 
Jim put a hand on his chest. His palm was warm. His touch was comforting. But little comfort in opposition with his innards being eaten, and every exhale burning his throat. His coughing died down, and he didn't dare speak again. Jim would have to do this on his own. Or not. Jim’s eyes became intense. Leonard considered he must look pathetic; noticing the tears at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t scared, really. He wasn't scared of dying to a disease. He was just in pain. He just couldn't help his body's natural pain response. He closed his eyes. Jim would either leave, or he wouldn't. That scared him; the idea of being left to die, bed-bound, alone. 
"Well—I love you! Bones—Leonard McCoy, I love you." He took both of his hands in his own, pressing his forehead to the doctor's knuckles.
It was silent in the room. 
McCoy almost took a breath to speak but was cut off with a flower lodged in his throat. He hacked it out onto the pillow, managing just a few deep breaths. "... Jim.. I know," he wheezed. And the captain started to choke up himself. 
"I-" Leonard coughed another petal out of his throat. "... love you too, Jim…" Quietly, feebly, he gave him that final peace of mind as he felt the flowers push their way into his mouth. It'd been satisfying, at least, to get that out. 
~
Spock lingered. It had been hours of silence. 
Jim was horribly upset when he saw him. He was whining his words trying to get them out as he confided in him, the way he did when he was overwhelmed but couldn't cry. But the way he spoke about him struck Spock oddly. It had been as if McCoy was already dead. He had comforted Jim, in what ways he could, for the night and the following day. He knew the captain was quite fond of his chief medical officer. McCoy was Jim’s confidant, and his close friend of many years. He also had assumptions that the two of them may be sleeping together. He considered that the captain's admission of affection may have been what the doctor needed. Jim had let him know, embarrassed, that he had tried. 
His first idea after leaving Jim’s side was to search the ship, crew member by crew member. Yet, to announce the doctor’s condition in such a way would violate his privacy, even if it were to locate the admission that would save him.
Not that an admission would likely reach him now. 
Spock looked at him- the corpse on the medical bed. With pale skin, sunken exhausted eyes, the crust of dried tears, split lips, an occasional slight tremor; his fragility. How it felt as if touching him would have him crumble beneath his fingers—and had to wonder if he even knew he was there. He didn't dare wake him, of course. Better to let him pass in his sleep than to force him to face the pain of the parasite. However, to leave the good doctor to die alone in sickbay was not an option. 
Doctor McCoy had spent the night in sickbay at his bedside many times before; the time he was forced into the Vulcan irak-wak yukup-wek, McCoy was—according to Jim's account—so concerned about him that he slept in sickbay so that every time a test was finished he could wake up and immediately look at the results, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with him. The time McCoy had made excuses to remain in sickbay while Spock had been recovering from the nerve and cardiovascular damage he sustained on Gamma Trianguli VI. The time he was recovering from the blood transfusion to his father and the side effects of that experimental drug. 
The doctor deserved the same courtesy, at the very least. At the very least being an operative statement. McCoy deserved better. Far better. 
A man who cared so deeply for others that he would stay by the bedside of a man whom he hardly tolerated the existence of certainly deserved to live. He deserved the admission of love from the woman who troubled him so deeply. He deserved to be happy with that person. Instead, his deep affection for others, his most admirable human trait, would put him to death. “I’ve always assumed your overly sensitive human emotions would be the end of you, Doctor.” Spock spoke quietly, not intending to wake him. As unjustifiable as it was, as he had nothing of importance to say to the man, he found himself experiencing illogical regret at not having a final conversation with him. 
Of course, he did have a final conversation with him. 
Over the intercom, Spock had inquired about the status of several sentient biological samples brought back from the surface of an M-class planet in the system. McCoy said he was “Handlin’ them as if they were” his own “dearest pets”, to which he had responded; “Doctor, be cautious of your biologically determined nature to bond with these beings. Need I remind you that they will be returned to the planet before we leave the system? You may depress yourself,” not entirely from a place of authentic concern, intending to spark a small and insignificant debate, as practice for his sharp wit. It was always good to practice. Aside from on the rare occasion their debate turned to genuine bitter argument, it always left him refreshed. Yes, that was the word. He knew Vulcans did not feel such strong emotions as the other words he could associate with it. He didn't imagine that McCoy felt quite the same. Humans, in his experience, were argumentative; much like Tellaurites. The difference being that they seemed to argue for the sake of opinion, not pleasure. McCoy was certainly opinionated. He seemed to be of the opinion that Spock was an irritant. At least, on most occasions. It was disappointing, as he thought quite highly of the doctor. So much so that he valued the time he spent with him. So much so that it would be difficult to adjust when he was gone. He felt a disturbing physical reaction to the thought; a full-body tenseness, a burning in his throat, irritation in his eyes, numbness in his fingers. It would have been nice to have known what McCoy thought about him. He was near certain that, had he been human, he may have fallen in love with the doctor. Perhaps the doctor would have loved him too, if he wasn’t partially Vulcan.
“You would say that. You Vulcans couldn't bond with somethin’ attached to your hip,” he had responded.
At the time, he had debated the bonding capability of Vulcan telepathy with him for several minutes. Now, as he stood over him, he debated it with himself. To touch McCoy’s mind without his consent would be inappropriate, to wake him would be cruel, and to ask him would be impossible. Still, a selfish urge within him almost moved his hands to the doctor’s face against his will. He didn't want him to go. It felt embarrassingly childish, fighting his body’s instinctive responses to the idea of losing him, like an earth child sobbing over a ruined stuffed animal. He attempted his technique of processing and discarding the emotions prickling at his Vulcan calm so violently. 
He was cut short by the doctor’s eyes tiredly cracking open. 
Somehow, he looked closer to death than he did with his eyes closed. He was almost perfectly still, aside from his now-shaking left hand. The tremoring worsened as he managed to lift his middle, pinky, and forefinger towards Spock. 
“Doctor.. I did not intend to wake you. I apologize..” His voice wavered. He could have sworn he was quiet enough to not rouse him. Apparently, his perception of his volume was another current failing brought on by the difficulty of the situation. 
McCoy’s thumb lifted. Spock couldn’t restrain himself. “I can meld with you, Doctor, so you can tell me if you require anything.” 
McCoy’s hand ceased straining, his fingers returning to rest. He managed, after a moment of hesitation, to nod. A state of ease spread through Spock's body. No matter how painful this would be, he would have resolution in at least the aspect of what McCoy's final request to him would be. He reached out to his face readily, but cautiously. As if he truly believed McCoy could turn to dust at his touch. 
Sharp pain shot through the first finger that touched McCoy’s face and Spock recoiled, almost thinking he had somehow been burned. The pain spread as it dissipated, through his hand and up his arm, down his spine. He trembled. His eyes felt heavy and dry, tingling with itch at the edges and underneath. His throat ached and burned, the taste of metal filling his mouth and choking him. His stomach turned, wretched nausea from the taste and the hunger and the pain filled it, and the subsuming of his intestines was as rawly torturous as it would have been if his skin was being carved with a knife. 
Spock almost fell to his knees. The pain had been so overwhelming. But he still remembered his goal. “McCoy?” he near whimpered his name as he probed into his mind. He couldn't find him, or at least- as he realized- not all of him. 
The doctor was like sand, needing to be gathered up into his hands. As the grains stuck in the metaphorical creases of his hands, he finally made the connection. His own mind kept careful hold of McCoy’s as his question sunk into the sand. How can I help you, doctor? 
The answer was simple. He wanted to be held. He wanted companionship while he died. Spock would offer that. He kept still with him. He would endure the connection to soothe him. Spock was determined to hold on to him until the last possible moment, which, for McCoy’s sake, he hoped would come quickly. 
He considered, with the pain the doctor was in, that perhaps it would be the merciful thing to do to take his pain and cease his brain activity manually. 
No, Spock. I won’t let you do that to yourself.. the doctor thought, with complete certainty.
Doctor, I am certain that I can withstand the physical toll of your pain for the moment it would take to induce a peaceful rest and subsequently terminate your brain functions. He was equally sure of himself in that respect.
It’s not about that, Spock. The doctor was correct, he knew. Spock wasn't quite sure what knowledge in his mind allowed him to know; even now, McCoy was secretive. The difficult trait they had in common. He was certain, though. It was some type of emotion; a deeply rooted pain. He would not follow it to the source. Not only would it be an invasion of the doctor’s privacy, he considered, it was taking all his concentration to keep himself from crying out in pain.
I’m hurting you, McCoy realized. Spock, please, let go.
You requested that I stay. I will stay.
McCoy started to push him out, but it was a pitiful attempt. It would be easy to stay put in his head, but it would now be against his wishes. He wanted to stay for him.
Doctor—Leonard, please, let me stay, he pleaded firmly. Allow me to grant you the company you have asked for. 
Leonard stopped. He thought. He determined. How about you just stay by my side, with a hand on my sleeve? He didn’t truly want that distance between them, Spock knew, but it was his request to make. He would withdraw, leaving him with the pain, carefully letting his mind slip away from him. Yet, he hesitated. Leaving his mind would truly be the end of it, he realized. It was the end of the debates, the nudges, the thinly veiled checkups, the gestures of compassion, the looks he would cast across the bridge, and the simple efforts to converse. 
Are there any parting words you wish to convey? He drew out his departure.
McCoy considered what Spock was doing, and what he was thinking. It was suddenly like a blindfold was slipped over Spock’s eyes. He had almost panicked, embarrassingly. Spock had almost called his name when he thought that the doctor might be forcing him out. But he felt the sand in his hands, still in his hands. McCoy was still with him. 
I think I love you. 
Everything stopped once McCoy made it known. 
Spock pulled out of his mind with a gasp like pulling his head above water.
Leonard McCoy loved him. 
He would die for it.
Of course, he loved him in return. As much as a Vulcan could love a human. However, even if that could ever be enough for McCoy, it was too late. His organs were already overrun by the flowers, mutated into knots of bloody, barely functional meat and flora. Leonard McCoy would die because Spock had no capacity for human affection. Spock was the one who had killed him. Another casualty of his amalgamated nature. One more casualty of what his mother had had deemed his lack of empathy.
He stood there, counting off times-tables in his head while his eyes burned. 2 times 2 is 4. He focused on the numbers, the laws of math. 4 times 4 is 16. The rules would keep him grounded. 16 times 16 is 256. The immutable truth would bring his mind under control. 256 times 256 is 65,536. 65,536 divided by 4 is 16,384. 16,384 divided by 4 is 4,096. 4,096 divided by 4 is 1,024. Leonard McCoy would die because of his inability to share in his feelings.
Spock failed to keep tears from escaping him. He kept his face straight. He kept himself upright. He kept silent. 
He would do the doctor the same favor of truth; bending over him to place a human kiss on his forehead. A tear rolled from his cheek to McCoy’s. “I will feel your absence quite deeply, Leonard,” he spoke quietly. “I firmly believe,” his voice faltered, “had I been human, my affections for you would have saved your life.”
Spock carefully embraced his hand in both of his own. “In what way I can, I do love you.” Through the touch of McCoy's soft hand, he felt not pain, nor fear, nor sadness. At the tips of his fingers, he felt happiness. Over the dorsal of his hand, he felt relief. Along the creases of his palm, he felt undeniable love.
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imagine-silk · 8 months
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Pre itsv platonic yandere PB in ur most recent post hits different... sorry for rambling, but im like obssesed with this idea.
• maybe his object of affection is a friend's kid, who he helped raise. He's the coolest person ever in their eyes! He'd be there whenever he could when they were younger, and he still tries now that they're college age.
• but he slowly becomes more jaded and depressed from the stress of being spiderman, and then him and mj divorce.
•he's depressed, he can barely get out of bed nost days ... and his object of affection, worried about their family friend, starts to visit him nearly daily. It's little things, like helping him clean, or taking him out to get coffee, or just... talking. And Peter clings onto that kindness. This kid (they're college age, but they'll always be a kid to him) saves him in a way.
• its only fair that peter looks out for them all the same-- When he patrols, he follows the kid from a distance and makes sure to lead villians away from their part of town. And for a while, it's enough to just keep them safe as Spiderman, and peter is happy for the first time in so long.
•...and then the kid says they're moving out of state for college, and peter can't bear it. He's started to see this kid as his own, and all he can feel is betrayed. How could this kid leave like everyone else in his life? He wouldn't let that happen. Whether it be hiding their letter of acceptance or straight-up just locking them away in his apartment, he'd be keeping them close by. He's delusional enough that guilt evades him-# his kid loves him, right? They'll adjust eventually.
This is a little ooc but like ^^^ platonic yanderes r my passion + im a sucker for depressed yanderes who become obsessed over people who made their lives light up for the first time in ages.
》 That may be so but your OOC is welcomed. Honestly I love prompts like this cause I can get a different angle from what I typically imagine so this was real nice. So yeah, ramble all you like.
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In high school he was your dad's best friend. And he had you at the age of sixteen. Shortly after Peter got bit. To say they were stressed was the biggest understatement in the world. They got through high school intact and went off to college while you were with your mother who was and is a fucking legend.
It took a few years to find out he wasn't actually related to you but he laughed and told you no one would ever want to drink blood so water wasn't bad. He always had a quip, was super strong, and he always seemed to know what to do. Having that thought consistently throughout your life had a big impact. You wanted him to be proud of you, you wanted to be him, and your dad laughed while he encouraged you. You would chase him across the world and further.
Looking back on it you realized he had his moments though. Sometimes he would get iffy and leave for a while only to come back like he didn't leave. When you were thirteen you visited him during one of his iffs. He told you to go home. When you were fourteen you did again. He told you to leave again. When you were sixteen he straight closed the door on your face after you said your piece.
Normally his episodes didn't last long, two weeks, maybe three if it was bad. You went over when it lasted a month. When he opened the door you shoved yourself in and said hi. That only took five years. He didn't force you to leave, he didn't have the energy to, but he told you to million times.
You looked around and then at him. He'd never been the cleanest person but the mess he had was almost impressive. But you weren't going to turn around, this was your moment to finally prove yourself as an adult. So you started picking things up and throwing it away while talking about nothing.
Watching you cleaning his mess and talk was the most horrible thing to see. It proved to him he was in such chaos you felt you needed to pick up after him. This shouldn't be happening, he should have handled it better. That was a bad thought and he knew it; no one would brush off people dying because you were too slow, no one should. But you didn't know that so he let you clean a bit and leave.
Having you shove yourself in the next day with a bag under your arm was also horrible, it was cleaning supplies. You still didn't go away when he said. You went around cleaning, you asked if he remembered when he taught you how to clean to get yourself out of trouble, to use bleach and made sure you didn't accidentally make mustard gas. He wondered if he was in hell, that he was to live a pitiful life with no way to fight it.
The next time he didn't open the door. You threatened to break down it down and he said have at it, and to not cry when you hurt yourself. You didn't cry when you hurt yourself, you came back the next day with a lockpick instead. At that point he accepted the idea he wasn't in hell. Then you saw his dishes weren't piling new ones. He didn't know if he was going insane while you cooked and cleaned or if he actually died while he wasn't looking.
You pushed him into the bathroom to get him to shower, when he couldn't get up you stayed and made him laugh with varying success, washed his clothes. He hated every second of it, hated that he was so useless you felt like you needed to do any of this.
Every new thing you found you stitched. It hurt but it made him better. He let you cook new things in his kitchen and take him out to coffee, all under the guise that he was doing you a favor of course. Before he knew it he let you in without a fight, his house was spotless in a way it never had been and you were visiting daily with a smile, he was smiling.
So he tried to return the favor. He stocked up on thing you wanted and liked, things to mess around with in the kitchen, those weird imported snacks you always got, even domestic things for the rare occasions you stayed over. And Spiderman did the same. Made sure you were unbothered when you were out and about, at the time he didn't realize he was punching harder. If a villain was in town he took the party elsewhere. He got used to this life.
His brain malfunctioned when he heard you applied for colleges out of state. Why would you go to Harvard? That was in Boston. California is just as bad if not worse than New York you know. There's nothing for you in Connecticut so there was no reason to apply for New Haven. He's lost a lot, aunt May is gone, his wife left him, he sees the people he can't save up close, Gwen. Now you were so close to slipping away.
You knew he'd be taken aback so you tried to reassure him by saying you weren't leaving them, him, and you'd come back every chance you got. He wanted to take that answer and leave but so many people have said that to him it was hard to. You brought him to tears and broke them with a hug and a key phrase, "I love you." How was he supposed to just let you leave?
The more he thought about it the more his mind swelled with looming regret. But then he visited you when you were opening your letter. Denied. You were frustrated and groaned it was the second letter you got, both denied. Under the excuse he was visiting to keep updated and the help of Spiderman your letters seemed to stop coming all together. No one knew where they went. He saw it as a job well done. You would get too upset to keep applying. Then you applied by email and explained to the recruiters what was happening. He couldn't stop that. A pile of letters in his closet for nothing.
There was so many things he could but he knew they would only go half way or not work at all. He couldn't just tell you no for so many reasons and threatening the recruiters would work but it would also be out in the open. However there was a way to keep you in Queens for sure and he had the energy to do it. Did it feel morally wrong? Yes, but the ends justify the means.
The next few days while he was getting everything ready he reminisced about your life. He asked if you remember how you would always ask him if he liked you're hair when it was obvious you did it by yourself, with too much gel or unnecessary accessories. Did you know he tried to take care of you by himself while you were just a few months old and you got sick, but you didn't really do anything other than sleep and spit to medicine out as much medicine as possible. You might not have remembered the time you were twelve and got lost so you called him to get you because you forgot your parent's number. And you took the stories. It was proof that he always paid attention to you and that's what you wanted, his approval, his pride.
You couldn't remember what you were doing, how far you got in the college process or if you were getting there but you remember having a drink with Peter. Something was wrong and you asked him to help you because you couldn't keep yourself up. When you woke up you were in his bed. Not very weird, it was a one bedroom apartment, what was was the restraint on your ankle connected to the bedpost. You called out for him and tried to get out of bed only to fall hard on the ground. The light from the hallway offended you and he was next to in a second.
You realized a few things; you were in pajamas, you were very weak and you throat was dry, but the worst thing was Peter not helping you the way he should. And his answers to your questions didn't nothing but tell you this was real. Never in a million lifetimes would you say he would be capable of doing this, or rather going through with it. You asked to leave and he said no.
You wanted to be there. You did anything you could to get in. You always said you'd be there for him so do it now. You love him don't you? You've never lied to him so you meant it. You love him. You don't need to leave ever. If he had to force it to happen he will.
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punkette1026 · 4 months
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Chapter 1-The Hot Expresso
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Summary:
The Hot Expresso coffee shop is a place that FBI agent Marcus Pike holds near to his heart. It's there that he meets new friends and gets introduced to the owners daughter Abigail Rose. Now after a text saying that they need to meet, Marcus now fears that the Hot Express is where he will experience heart ache. He sends up a silent prayer hoping that its not the case and ponders on how he and Abigail got to the point where they are at now.
Warnings: No major warnings yet. Will mark chapters that do contain smut
Series Masterlist
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Hello everyone! I'm back with a short series. This is my first Marcus Pike fic and I am so happy to share it all with you.
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It was another cold and rainy day in Washington DC. The streets were unusually quite as people chose to stay in their warm houses versus venturing out in the hectic wind and rain. Only those brave souls that bundled up the best that they could were out roaming the streets either running errands or going to work.
The icy cold weather also meant that the various coffee shops around the city were busier than usual. People were rushing in before work to get their much need coffee fix, some coming into get a break from the cold air, and for some others, they were there to get away from the cruel world. The sounds of the milk steamer and the smells of freshly brewed coffee provided a sense of comfort for those lost individuals.
“The Hot Expresso,” was one of those places for F.B.I. agent Marcus Pike. He visited this particular coffee shop quite frequently ever since he had moved there to head up an International Art Theft Task Force. He had stubbled in there one late afternoon looking for a hot cup of coffee to help wake his tired body. There, he met the owners Rafael and Rosemary who welcomed him and shared their history of how they came from Mexico to provide a better life for their growing family. They were amazing people and Marcus felt an instant connection to them. Soon they became great friends and he made sure that he visited the coffee shop every chance that he could get.
It became like a second home to Marcus. When work became too stressful or when he was tired of being bored at home, Marcus knew that he could come there to reset his mind and reenergize. He would order his usual black Americano, a chocolate donut, and head over to his booth in the corner of the shop, away from the rest of the other patrons.
That’s where he was now. Sitting there in his booth just sulking away. It seemed like for the past few weeks, the world appeared to be out to get him. First it was his job. For the last few weeks, Marcus had been working on a museum art heist that he couldn’t seem to figure out. Every time that he felt like he was getting close to solving it, there would be a new twist and he would have to start all over again. Not to mention that his higher ups were tired of the lack of progress and were threatening to pull his team from the case and give it to someone else. He had a meeting with them on Monday to defend himself and his team.
Things at home weren’t all that great either. After having to go out of the country for a few days to chase down a lead, Marcus had come home to hid that his upstairs neighbor had let their tub overflow which caused water to run down and flood his home office. He spent the last week trying to clean up the mess whenever he got off of work. Then this morning, he got word from his apartment manager that it was going to take weeks to repair all the water damage. However, between his work and his ruined apartment, those were the least of his worries. Right now, he was more concerned about what was going on between him and his beautiful girlfriend Abigail.
She was the reason why he visited the Hot Expresso as often as he did.
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Flashback...
Marcus walked into the Hot Expresso feeling great. He and his team just solved a case that they had been working on for over a month. It wasn’t without its fair share of ups and downs. They had lost their suspect for a few weeks which delayed things and he almost lost the perp for good tonight if it wasn’t for him jumping out a window to tackle the perp to the ground. Now he was walking around sporting a new set of stitches across his cheek and his hand was wrapped up in a bandage. Not that any of that mattered though, because he got his guy and that’s all that mattered. All he wanted to do now was get his favorite chocolate donuts for the morning and head home to get some much needed sleep.
As he walked into the Hot Expresso, Marcus noticed that it was filled with more people than he was used to seeing. The tables and chairs that were near the window were now pushed off to the side. He also noticed that a guitar and microphone had been set in that now empty space. This was very odd for sure. The Hot Expresso never had live entertainment before.
“Ah Marcus, so glad that you could make it,” Rafael greeted him as he came around from behind the counter. “My, what happened to you? Are you alright?”
“Rafael, good to see you,” Marcus shook his hand. “I’m alright, thanks for asking. I just had a little accident at work. And speaking of work, this place is packed. What’s going on?”
“I know isn’t it great! All of our friends and family came to see my oldest Abigail. She came home from New York finally. She has been studying music up and flew in this morning. My wife and I asked her to have a little performance here and she agreed,” Rafael said proudly.
From getting to know Rafael, Marcus knew that he had three daughters. Two of whom Marcus had met before as they either worked or visited the shop while their parents worked. However, when it came to Abigail, she wanted to explore and get out of DC until she was ready to come back and work for the coffee shop. Apparently, she had fallen in love with New York and hadn’t been home for the past two years, until now.
“Look, here comes my baby girl now,” Rafael pointed her out to him as she walked out from the back with Rosemary.
When Marcus spotted her, he knew that he was done for. He felt his mouth almost hit the floor as he became entranced by her beauty. The way the lighting made her skin glow, the way the cool breeze from the window made her long brown hair flow, he loved it all. Marcus watched as she smiled at her mother, and he swore his heart stopped. Oh, how he wished that was him that was making her smile so big and bright. As she bent down to pick up her guitar, Marcus prayed that Rafael wasn’t watching him stare at the way her dress hugged her curves. ‘My god she’s gorgeous,’ he thought to himself.
Rafael then excused himself to go introduce his daughter, but Marcus was so hypnotized that he didn’t even hear him leave. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight on such short notice. Please help me welcome my beautiful, amazing, talented daughter Abigail Rose to the Hot Expresso.”
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Abigail smiled as the applause calmed down. “This is a little something that I wrote recently and its my first time performing it, so I hope you really it.”
As she opened her mouth and began to sing, Marcus felt like he died and went to heaven. Abigail had the voice of an angel. It was almost enough to bring a tear to his eye. ‘She’s perfect, absolutely perfect!’
Strumming away on her guitar, Abigail’s eyes began to wander over the crowd. She picked out a few people that she knew, mostly old friends, then out of nowhere, she spotted him. A stranger that she couldn’t take her eyes off of.
He looked so handsome standing there in a dark grey suit. He looked so delicious with the facial hair that he was sporting. Abigail just wanted to run her hand across his bearded cheeks. There was no doubt in your mind that he was certainly older than you, but the combination of the patchy beard and the way his shaggy hair fell just about his eyebrow, gave him a boyish charm. Abigail also couldn’t help but notice those big brown eyes of staring back at her. A blush came over the man’s cheeks as he knew that he had been caught. She didn’t mind though. She just had to know who that man was. ‘Maybe dad can introduce us. Seemed like he knew him too.’
As her song came to an end, a massive roar of cheers and applause filled the coffee shop. A sense of pride came over Abigail as she could tell that everyone enjoyed her performance. “Thank you all so much. I really appreciate all the love. If you just give me a few minutes, I’ll come back and do another one for you.”
Her father was quick to be by her side once she was done beaming with joy, “Oh sweetie, that was amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks dad. I’m not going to lie, that was pretty scary, but I’m glad that I did it,” she said giving him big hug. “Listen dad, that guy that you were talking to earlier, who was that? Is he still here?” She looked around for the stranger but didn’t see him anywhere.
A big smile came upon her dad’s face like he was waiting for her to ask, “Oh that is my favorite customer, Marcus Pike. He works for the F.B.I. you know. C’mon, I think he went to go sit in his usual booth.” Rafael than led her over to where Marcus was sitting nursing a hot cup of coffee. “Marcus, so glad you decided to stay. How’s the coffee?”
“Amazing as always Rafael,” Marcus smiled taking another sip. “The entertainment was really good too. You must be very proud.” Abigail was smiling behind her father so Marcus couldn’t see her.
“Yes, yes, I am very proud. Speaking of which, I want you to introduce you to her.” That’s when Abigail came out from behind Rafael. “Marcus Pike, this is my daughter Abigail Rose. Abigail, this is special agent Marcus Pike.”
Both of them immediately got nervous with butterflies in their stomachs. They were both torn between being nervous and shy. Abigail was the first one to speak up after she got her courage back, “Hello special agent, its’s very nice to meet you.”
Ever the gentleman that he was, Marcus quickly got up out of his seat and extended his uninjured hand out to her, “You can just call me Marcus. No need to get formal. It’s very nice to meet you, Abigail Rose. That was an amazing performance.”
“Thank you, Marcus, and it’s very nice to meet you too. And please call me Abby. My dad always feels the need to throw my full name around,” Abby rolled her eyes at her father.
“While I think Abigail Rose is a beautiful name,” Marcus complimented making her blush. “Please have a seat. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
“Marcus, she’s my daughter. She gets coffee on the house,” Rafael interjected.
Marcus’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment, “Oh umm...yeah, right sorry.” ‘Way to go dumbass,�� he yelled at himself.
“It’s alright not a big deal,” Abby smiled sympathetically while snapping a start at her father. “Dad, do you mind getting me a tea then. I need something hot to drink before I go play again.”
Not needing to be told twice, Rafael rushed back to the counter to get his daughter some tea. Abby didn’t fail to notice her father whisper something to her mother, who then gave them a thumbs up. They were both unbelievable.
“Sorry about my parents. They can be a bit much sometimes,” Abby sighed in shame.
“Eh don’t worry about it. They are harmless,” Marcus smiled. “You know, I would love to know about your singing. Your dad tells me that you have been in New York studying music?”
“Umm...yeah kind of. I’m actually studying business, but I’m minoring in music. As much as I would love to study music full time, it’s not very realistic. Besides, I don’t think that I am good enough to actually make a career out of it.”
Marcus just looked at her in shock, “What, excuse me, but you can’t be serious. You were incredible out there. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you have been performing for years. You’re a natural.”
At first she thought that he was only saying that to be nice, but when she looked over into those big chocolate eyes of his, she could see something in him that told that he was telling the truth. “You’re very sweet Marcus Pike, thank you. To be honest though, I have only performed three other times like this in public. I mostly just sing in my class or in the shower. If anything, I enjoy writing music more. It’s very therapeutic.”
“Well, I hope you continue to pursue it then. Just because something doesn’t seem practical doesn’t mean that it isn’t worth trying,” he told her.
“That’s some great advice there agent,” Abby smiled knowing that his advice was valid. “If the whole special agent thing doesn’t work out, you should think about having a career in motivational speaking. It’s probably safer too from the looks of it.” Now that she was closer to him, she was able to make out his injuries.
Marcus looked at the bandage on his hand and shrugged, “Oh this? It’s not that bad. Just a hazard of the job. Believe it or not, this is the first time I have ever gotten hurt on the job. The department that I work for isn’t as dangerous as some of the others. It’s mostly office work.”
“And what department would that be?”
“It’s much more exciting than it sounds, but I work in art crimes,” he winced. Normally this would be the time where his dates would tune him or find a way to change to change the subject. Everyone expected him to be like the FBI agents in the movies tracking down bad guys and getting into shootouts.
“Are you kidding that sounds amazing!” Abby said astonished. “Do you get to visit a lot of museums? I’m a bit of a nerd and I like to go to museums for fun and hang out.”
‘She’s perfect, absolutely perfect,’ Marcus beamed inside. “Hey, there is nothing wrong with that. I do too. I love all types of art and museums are a great place to see all of it. I try to go to every museum in every city that I visit. And it’s not just art, I love anything old like movies and music too.”
Abby couldn’t believe her luck. She liked all those things too. Marcus got better the more she spoke to him. She wanted to stay there longer and talk to him some more, but with all the people waiting for her to perform again, they were sort of on borrowed time. So, she decided to take a chance and put herself out there to see if they could continue whatever this was another time. “Listen Marcus, I know that this may be a little a little bit out of the blue, but there is an art and film festival on Saturday that I heard about. You wouldn’t wanna go, would you? “‘Please say yes, please say yes.’
“You know what, I think that sounds like really fine. I would love to go with you,” Marcus smiled brightly. He wished that it was him who asked her out, but he would let that slide. “What time should I pick you up?”
“Oh, you really don’t have too. I’m sure I can take the bus.”
“Yes, I do please. You already beat me to asking you out, so the least I can do is pick you up.”
With his big puppy dog eyes staring back at her, there was no way that she could say no. “Okay fine. I’ll be staying at my parents’ house till Tuesday when I fly back. Can I see your phone?” Without hesitating, Marcus handed his personal phone over to her. “Here’s my number. Feel free to text me whenever. I’ll give you my parents address on Saturday.”
Marcus quickly hit save when she handed it back to him. He was about to tell her how excited he was for Saturday, but Rafael came back with a hot cup of tea in his hand. “Here is your tea sweetheart. I also brough you some little fans too.”
He moved out of the way and two little girls who looked to be nine or ten approached. “Hello there, what are your names?” Abby asked kneeling down in front of the girls.
“I’m Sarah and this is my little sister Emma. She is too shy to ask, but do you know any Taylor Swift songs?”
“You know what Emma; I think I do. Which ones are your favorites?”
As Abby listened to the girls spout out a list, Marcus stared at her in awe. She was so soft and kind to them. She listened to every word they said and answered every question that they had. Sure, it could have been that she was the oldest of three girls and knew how to deal with younger kids, but Marcus could see that it was just the type of person that Abby was. He felt himself becoming more and more attracted to her the more he watched.
Once she was done talking to the girls, Abby stood up and gave Marcus a sympathetic smile. She wanted to sit back down and continue talking but she could see her mother impatiently waiting for her by her guitar. “Guess I better get going. I’m sorry Marcus, I really would have liked to continue talking to you.”
“Hey, it’s all right. I better head out too. The pain meds are starting to wear off a little,” Marcus winced. “If you want me to stay though, I can. I’m sure your mom has something that I can take.”
“No, no please go home and rest. I’m only gonna do a few more songs and then call it a night myself. I’m super tired and a little embarrassed to be completely honest. I don’t like being paraded around like this. If I want to perform, then I want to perform for myself, not because someone wants me to.” 
Marcus knew he was testing the waters, but he reached out and took her hand into his. “That’s perfectly understandable. Sometimes parents can be so proud and want to everyone your greatness. It can be a little overbearing at times. If you wanna sing, then you sing. Don’t let people make you do something that you don’t want to do. Only you know what is best for you.”
Abby’s eyes almost filled with tears. This man had such a way with words. “Are you sure you aren’t a motivational speaker?” she joked. “Thank you for that though Marcus. It means a lot.”
“Don’t mention it,” Marcus winked at her. “You have a great rest of your night Abigail Rose. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“You have a good night too Marcus Pike and please again, call me Abby,” she couldn’t help but blush as he said her full name.
“C’mon Abigail, everyone is waiting for you,” Rafael once again interjected.
As Rafael pulled her away, she gave Marcus one last wave before turning her attention to the crowd waiting for her. For Marcus, even though he knew that she wouldn’t get to see his text for a while, he pulled out his phone and sent her a quick text:
            It was very nice to meet you. I’m glad that I stopped by tonight. And for the record, I like
            Abigail Rose”
                        -MP
End of Flashback...
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That night was one of the best nights of Marcus’ life. Even though they briefly talked and without even having to take her out on a date, Marcus truly felt like he had found his soulmate. Sure, he had his fair share of relationships where he thought he had found the one, but those turned out to be miserable failures. However, with Abby, he felt like things were different. He felt his heart become whole when he was with her. She made him belly laugh at the drop of a dime, she knew exactly what to say when he was feeling down or stressed, and she made him want to be a better person not only for himself, but for her too.
Lately though, Marcus felt that happiness and tranquility begin to disappear. It seemed that lately all they did was fight. Any little disagreement that normally would bother them would now turn into a huge fight. Marcus would end up staying late at work to avoid seeing her or talking to her and Abby just stopped coming by his apartment all together.
As Marcus sat there with a still full cup of coffee, he impatiently checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Abby had texted him saying that they needed to talk. He immediately felt his heart drop. He knew Abby was on her way to break up with him, he just knew it. Even though he wasn’t sure if he believed it at all, Marcus closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer to anyone that was listening, ‘Please don’t let my bad feeling come true. I can’t lose her. I just can’t.’
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Please let me know what you think! If you have any story ideas or suggestions, please feel free DM
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arueternity · 1 year
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How would the ST Boys + V react to you crying because of them? Sorry. I'm in my feels and it popped into my head. -💙
Hello~ I promise I'm not dead. Just been dealing with midterms and all that fun college stuff. Anyways here's this... So sorry if it wasn't exactly comforting. <3 Vessel
Vessel has been stressing over Sleep more than normal
Its gotten to the point no one can stop his studies to make him eat or take care of himself
You’ve began to worry about him and have tried to talk to him about it, but every time he brushes you off
After the 6th attempt it began to get violent and angry.
You had yelled some choice words about him not caring about you or himself, that he’ll end up dead before long
Vessel ends up stopping whatever he’s doing to watch the tears roll down your face
It killed him on the inside to see that fact he caused those tears
“Look at me, love…” He says while wiping the tears from your cheeks, “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice just how much you needed me. How much I’ve been stuck up in this…” Vessel sighs and gestures around the room signifying what he meant. He runs a hand under his mask and groans softly, the days finally catching up to him. You watch him quietly, anger slowly leaving you at the sight of how stressed he seems to be. “No Ves,” You sigh with guilt eating away at you, “I didn’t see how much this is stressing you out…”  You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He allows you the touch, maybe to comfort you but maybe it's to comfort himself. Vessel gently rests his head against yours in a loving manner. His hand coming to wrap around your back and pull the two of you even closer than before. You sit in silence for what seems like forever, but an eternity of peace and love. Once you look up, you are able to notice the soft wetness to his eyes. “Lover, are you okay…” He nods but doesn’t trust himself to speak. The stress of dealing with Sleep and upsetting you finally crashed onto the man. You stand straight and place a loving kiss on his jaw line. “Let me help you next time…”
II
Due to the influx of worshippers, the boys have been practicing a lot more then normal
II especially wants to make sure his parts are perfect, wanting to give his everything to the show he loves.
He spends days practcing till his arms are sore and his hands are numb
He has gone through so many pairs of drumsticks and he keeps calling you to get him more
But after so many times of retrieving more sticks, it starts to get to you.
He hasn’t looked at you for longer then 2 secs and haven’t even talked to you besides asking for his equipment. 
You go to hand him the last pair the store has, he doesn’t even bother looking up when you tell him the information.
It hits hard, the pack is meant to bond and here he is isolating not only himself but you. 
Tears pool in your eyes and your nose fills up with snot.
“II, please it's weeks since you’ve done anything but play…” Your voice cracked as you raised the volume. He glances at you before bringing his eyes back to the drum kit in front of him. Frustration and loneliness burning like a wild fire in your heart. “II if you don’t stop fucking playing!” You scream over the beat of The Summoning. Finally he stops playing and really looks at you for the first time in a while. “Fuck baby.. Hey… No stop..” He drops everything he’s doing and stands to rush to you. Tears finally fall from your eyes as a soft sob leaves your throat, “I’ve been doing so much but I don’t even get a simple thank you!” II carefully pulls you into him, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks. He lets you cry all while rubbing your back and holding you as close as possible. Once the tears begin to slow and all that is heard in the practice room is a soft sniffle, “I promise everything you do… I’m thankful for… I love you  I didn’t realize…”
III
Everyone knows the bassist is always bouncing around on stage.
Well he is extremely similar when it comes to his private life
He is always goofy and a ray of sunshine that sometimes gets on people’s nerves.
III will play jokes on you whenever he notices you feeling upset or generally down. 
Sometimes it does help but sometimes you just wish your personal bassist would sit and talk to you 
No matter how many times you’ve tried to have a conversation with him about the relationship, he brushes it off like there is nothing to talk about. 
It is extremely upsetting and finally, you snapped.
Corning III during one of his joking moments and told him everything that was on your mind.
He stared down at you in extreme confusion and slight hurt, his back pressed against the door of your door. “Sugar… What’s going on? Uh, you seem upset?” You exhale and pinch the bridge of your nose while tapping your foot. The little movement does nothing to ease the anger in your system. “Of course I’m upset! I’ve been trying to talk to you about something for days now! Yet you brush me off !” III flinches back at the outburst and watches as tears of frustration fall onto the floor. “I-I didn’t know you were trying to talk to me…” He trails off avoiding your fierce glaze. A soft whimper falls from his mouth when your tears begin to fall faster. “It's like you don’t even care about me III!” He sucks in a harsh breath and makes a rash decision. III pulls you into him and locks his arms around you, refusing to let go no matter how much you struggle. You scream in slight frustration because sobbing into his chest. “Am I just not good enough for you… why can’t you just love me…” The creature lifts his mask above his nose and kisses your lips passionately. “Of course, I love you Sugar… I just struggle with… this,” He motions to the two of you, “I’m not great with feelings but I don’t wanna lose you… tell me everything... Please.” He begs softly while looking into your eyes lovingly.
IV
You loved your goofy guitarist, held him higher than the moon
He was always the calm-ish one out of the group, keeping to himself and whenever he needed to
Sadly sometimes the quietness of IV became worrisome.
His anxiety getting the best of him, his guard staying up to keep the whole “calm and stoic” impression
You tried to talk to him about this, but he would always say he is fine and brush it off
It was clear he wasn’t okay, his normal dancing on stage during into just a small bounce in his step
His kisses and touch becoming short and almost emotionless 
It hurt you to know he wouldn’t talk to you, no matter how hard you try
The ritual had gone well, everyone cheering and obviously having the time of their lives, everyone but IV. Your lover had been off in his little corner of the stage. You sat waiting backstage preparing to help clean and pack up. IV was the last one to join you backstage, his eyes calm but holding a clouded-over look. He ignored you, ignored everyone trying to congratulate him for the performance. You knew how he got, you knew he wouldn’t talk to anyone about this. With a sigh, you walked to him and grabbed his sleeve wanting to drag him into one of the private dressing rooms. He allows you to pull him, not wanting to even cause a scene. Once in the room with the door shut, you cross your arms glaring up at him with worry and anger. “IV, I’ve had enough of this. What. Is. Going. On.” He blinks at you in confusion before patting your head as though you were a dog. “Nothing love, I’m fine there is nothing going on.” You take a deep breath and hug him tightly. You shake in anger and hold him, “There’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing wrong!” Your voice shakes with sad anger, “You always say this and you never talk to me!” IV sighs and pushes you off him carefully as he moves to place his hand on your cheek. “I don’t want to worry you, you are already stressed… I don’t want to add onto it.” You whimper softly, a single tear falling from your face. Your lover stares at the tear falling down your face and gently wipes it away. “Shh it’s okay…” IV places his forehead against yours and hums softly. “IV please just… Tell me what’s going on with you.” You reach out grabbing at his shirt with a tight shaky grip. “It's just…” 
V
V had always had anger issues, lashing out at anyone who was in his way
If someone were to piss him off, he would attempt to walk away but sometimes it’s not enough
Sometimes just sometimes, III loves to push V’s buttons to set him off
The worst you’ve seen from your lover was when he punched 3 fist-sized holes in the wall
Everything was so fast and so loud, his voice raising the more he was pissed
You knew it was best to stay away from him when he was like this, not wanting his anger to be directed towards you. 
But of course, there were times like now when you happened to get in the way
“I swear to FUCKING god! III broke my guitar!” V yells while he tosses his nearly shattered guitar. You look up from your position on the bed, you stare at him in confusion and slight fear. He sighs in frustration and kicks the door closed causing a loud slamming sound. You jerk at the noise and move further back onto the bed. Knowing it is best to stay quiet you say nothing at the man’s rage. V’s eyes catch your movement, noticing the way you flinch at every noise he makes. “Oh so now you’re going to act like you’re scared of me? What the fuck!” You cover your mouth quickly attempting to quiet the soft whimper that falls from it. He smiles angrily and sucks on his fanged teeth, eyes flaring up with emotions. V takes a step closer to you, cornering you against the bed and the wall. Your breath quickens, tears begin to quickly form and fall down straining your face. He pauses, face falling at the sight of you so scared of him. V attempts to reach out of you carefully but pulls his hand back when your crying turns into loud sobs. Your hands tremble as you quickly gather your things and run out of the room. V is left standing in the middle of the room in shock taking in what he has done. Then and only then does he notice he had kicked a hole in the door. “Fuck…”
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Text
Recovery pt1
Synopsis: after a grueling battle and the last foe was down, everyone caught their breath. They didn't anticipate that the warden would fall, their weapon clattering to the ground with little to no energy to put it away, like sand falling through their fingers. The last request the warden made before losing consciousness were; "I just want to be held while i recover."
warnings and mentions: based off of my gameplay of DAO currently. Mage warden. They/them warden. Not exactly read over for errors so sorry if their is some Grammer errors. Mentions of deaths of thousands. Not sure what other warnings apply.
Alistair - hope and prayer.
Alistair had dealt with so much. Being sent to the chantry by the arlessa, templar training, being recruited into the Grey Wardens and dealing with the effects that came with it, losing those wardens who started to feel like kin in the battle Loghain had stepped back from, including Duncan. But Maker has he never felt this much anxiety and fear gripping at his very flesh and being as he cradles his unconscious friend's face.
'They look so fragile like this.' he thought to himself with a spike of fear piercing his heart. His hands were shaking. He didn't want to be shaking. Not when he feared the person he cared so much about would lose their pulse if he did not remain composed.
'Please not them. Please. Anything but them. I'd do anything, just please live.'
He tried taking deep breaths, counting from 4 with each inhale through his mouth and exhale out his nose. Something the warden had told him about doing whenever they were stressed back at Redcliffe and while he was seperated from Sten, Leliana and Wynne in the fade.
'They will be fine.' He told himself, willing the slight tremble in his hands to cease with every breath he took.
'Wynne said they would be fine. They have to be fine.'
It was the second time he realised just how much value the warden held to him. Just how much he cared, like when he worried about them not surviving their wounds when the two were rescued and taken to Flemeth's hut. Only this time, he wasn't dealing with the abundance of grief Loghain's actions had caused, the pain having become smaller for the time being. And this time, he knew the warden more now, like the kin he had found and lost. They weren't just the new recruit anymore, they were his leader, his friend, his close companion. The thought and the breathing exercise helped to calm his mind, but there was still an inkling of doubt and worry in his mind as he thought back, to so many moments the warden managed to create, even if its only been, what, 3-4 weeks? Or maybe it was months. They never really took track of time.
He lowered his forehead to theirs, hands now stilled, devoid of gloves and feeling the texture of the warden's skin. His movements were careful, some part of himself treating this as if the warden was merely sleeping instead of having been unconscious for 3 days already. He closed his eyes, and began to pray. Whispering prayers to the Maker and Andrastate for a swift recovery, his thumb every now and again caressing the warden's cheek as he prayed.
"You're going to be okay. I promise."
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me-myself-and-my-fos · 2 months
Text
The Day We Met
Pairing: Bernard x Nic Blake
A/N: Just pretend I posted this on New Year’s Eve like I had planned and it didn’t take me two weeks to finish this cause I’m a coward
Warning: brief mention of pregnancy; tooth rotting fluff
Nic could count on one hand how many times in a year were considered their ‘busiest’ time of the year. New Year’s happened to be one of them, and she had the (mis)fortune of being a manager this year during New Year’s Eve. She thought it would be no different from the chaos of Valentine’s Day or Easter or even Christmas, but no.
The door to the bakery opened suddenly, bell jingling as a tall, lanky college student in an apron and puffy jacket stepped outside. His arms had three boxes of various cookies, cupcakes, and other pastries in them as he walked toward the van they used for deliveries. Following him, Nic scowled at the back of his head. Her own arms were filled with large boxes of cupcakes and a cake.
“One job, Larry. I asked you to do one job, and that was to load the van thirty minutes ago!” She was overwhelmed and stressed and at her wits end with how packed the bakery was, as well as the orders they had to complete before it closed for the day. This was the last thing she needed. “Deliveries start in five minutes, how are we going to get all of these–”
A yelp escaped her as her world became horizontal, the patch of ice she hadn’t noticed being her downfall. Still, her grip on the boxes in her arms remained as she waited for the hard embrace of the sidewalk to hit her back. But it was an embrace that never came, and she opened the eyes she didn’t realize had squeezed shut in anticipation for her fall. Instead she found herself staring at the snowfall above, and a face came into view, eclipsing the gray sky.
“Are you alright?” Bernard asked, helping her stand upright. As she found her footing, Nic gave a shy smile to the handsome stranger.
“I’m fine,” she breathed out, slowly pulling away from his hold and over to the van. “Thank you for saving me.” She opened the boxes of orders, sighing in relief that by some miracle they managed to stay intact. She moved to face him, and Bernard quickly slipped his hands into his pockets. “I owe you one,” she told him before looking over at Larry. “Finish loading the van? I’ll be inside.”
As she carefully walked back to the front door of the bakery, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and was unsure what the redness on her cheeks was from: the cold, the embarrassment, or the cute guy who caught her. She tried to not let the blush work its way to her ears as she stepped inside to the warm, sweet smelling bakery and tossed her coat into the cupboard beneath the coffee station. Nic took her spot behind the pastry display to help the two employees that were taking orders and filling them. The bakery was packed, so much so that Larry had a difficult time squeezing back in to grab more deliveries, and Bernard nearly couldn’t find an empty space to get inside. Nic hadn’t even noticed her savior was in the long, jumbled line to the cash register until she stood from where she had been crouching behind the pastries, filling a paper bag with sugar cookies and macadamia nut cookies.
She was face to face with him, surprised and handed the bag of cookies to her co-worker who handed them to the customer with a handful of napkins. “Oh hey, it’s you.”
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Bernard said.
“I’m fine, honest,” she told him light-heartedly. “It’s an occupational hazard. But let me get you something as a thank you.” Nic reached into her pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. She handed it to the cashier. “Ring it up for a dozen sugar cookies and a small hot drink.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Bernard began, but was quickly cut off by Nic.
“This is my way of thanking you. So hot cocoa?” She asked, stepping over to the coffee pot that they had used to make hot cocoa instead. She poured a cup and took the whipped cream from the mini fridge underneath the counter, putting a healthy amount then closing the lid. She handed him the cup, their fingers brushing causing her to fight back a shiver. Pulling her hand away, her co-worker passed the bag of cookies to Bernard.
“Oh, thanks.”
“Thank you,” Nic tried not to giggle as they smiled at each other. There was a quiet pause as they did, the cashier continuing to take the next customer. But Nic was infatuated. “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes sparkle when you smile?”
Bernard felt his face grow warm. “No, no one ever has.”
“Well they should, cause it’s true.”
“Nic, we need some help back here!” Called one of the employees from the kitchen. “Truck just came in and we need another set of hands!”
“I should really get back to work…” she mumbled, gesturing to the kitchen.
“Yeah, you probably should…” Bernard nodded.
“Thank you again for saving me.”
“You’re welcome.” She gave him a small nod and headed to the back through the kitchen.
New Year's Day was hell. Not because most of the staff came in with hangovers, but because most of the customers came in with hangovers. Nic dreaded flipping the sign to say open, but she had to. Contractually, she was obligated.
The bell rang as the door opened, and Nic rolled her eyes as her back faced the door. She was still putting coffee grounds into the coffee maker’s filter. The bakery opened less than a minute ago according to her watch, and someone already came in. Taking a breath, she put on her best smile and in the fakest happy voice she could muster at 7am, faced the counter.
“Happy New Year and welcome to Cake and Bake–”
She paused when she saw Bernard standing in front of the door, shaking the snow off his hat. He looked up and noticed her staring.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” She adjusted her apron and stepped over to the cash register as he approached. “What can I get you?”
“Do you have any job applications?”
Nic was caught off guard by that, but she nodded. “Yeah, let me get you one.” She hurried into the back where the owner’s office was. As she disappeared into the kitchen, she fiddled with the keys in her pocket to unlock the office.
“Is that—” The head baker on shift, Jade, began to say, but Nic caught her off.
“Yes.”
Jade raised a brow. “Is he here to see you?”
The office door was unlocked and light illuminated the room. Nic opened one of the filing cabinets that she knew held the applications. She stepped out and held it up. “He wants one of these.”
“So he isn’t here to talk to you?” Jade asked, dividing the dough for the croissants.
“I don’t know!” Nic exclaimed quietly, throwing her hands up as she stalked across the kitchen.
“He’s cute though!” Jade told her before Nic pushed through the doors into the front of the bakery.
Bernard stood there waiting when she came out, and she held the application out to him. He took it from her, nervously looking down at the piece of paper.
“You can take it home and bring it back up when you’re done, or you can fill it out here.”
“Thanks.” He nodded and was about to walk over to the tiny table in the far corner of the bakery before he looked back at her. “Can I borrow a pen?”
Nic took the pen from behind her ear and handed it to him. Before he could take it, she pulled back. “I want this back before you leave. If I don’t get it back I’ll hunt you down.” He laughed nervously as she held it back out to him and he took it from her. “I’m entirely serious.”
“I promise I’ll give it back,” he told her then walked over to the table.
Nic watched him sit down and start to work on the application, but her attention was cut short by the door opening and the bell ringing. Taking a breath, she smiled and started working for the day.
An hour later when more employees had arrived and Nic was manning the cash register, she looked over to see him still working on the application. She walked over to the coffee pot filled with cocoa and filled a medium cup, topping it off with some whipped cream and chocolate syrup. She pulled a crumpled five dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to the cashier between customers.
“For the cocoa,” Nic said. It was a slower morning than she expected, but she figured it had to do with most people being hungover from the night before. She walked over to the table where Bernard sat and set the cocoa down next to him.
He looked at the drink and then to her. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”
“It gets cold by the window,” she told him, trying to explain away her actions. She left before the blush could consume her face, not noticing the same was happening to him.
It was another half hour before he approached the counter. The breakfast rush was slowing down finally and Nic had a moment to breathe. When Bernard came to the counter, she immediately gave him her full attention. He handed her the application and her pen.
“I’ll make sure my boss gets this,” she said gesturing with the application as she tucked the pen behind her ear. “Do you need anything else?”
“No,” he shook his head, though not ready to leave just yet.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you then?” Nic smiled at him, hoping he’d understand the invitation she was extending to him.
“I’ll definitely be by again soon,” he assured her.
Another customer approached the counter, and Nic moved out of the way for her co-worker to serve them. She waved goodbye to Bernard before rushing into the back. Jade watched as Nic entered the office and wrote something down on a sticky note before playing it on the application.
“What are you doing?” Jade asked.
“Just telling the owner I strongly recommend he consider this applicant,” Nic replied nonchalantly.
“You never do that!”
“Yeah, well, I have a feeling about this one…”
20 Years Later
Nic let out a groan as she sat up in bed, the clock on her bedside table showing it was a quarter to six in the morning. She rubbed her face tiredly, feeling the sleep fog lingering as she yawned. The light on her husband’s bedside was on, giving the room a soft glow. As she put on her glasses, the bedroom opened and Bernard entered the room with a tray of breakfast in his hands. Nic smiled tiredly at him, leaning against the pillows as he walked over to her side of the bed.
“What’s this about?” She asked, looking at the tray that he set in her lap.
“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed. For our anniversary,” he told her softly, leaning down to kiss her temple.
She hummed softly, smiling at the peanut butter and grape jelly on a cinnamon raisin bagel. She mentioned it to him the night prior— it was her first craving of the pregnancy. “Our anniversary was in September,” Nic reminded him.
“I’m not talking about our wedding anniversary.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s the anniversary of the day we met. It was today, twenty years ago.”
Her eyes widened, pausing as she lifted half of the bagel up to her mouth. “No, it’s today? Already?”
Bernard nodded, smiling at her fondly. “It snuck up on us, I know. The last two months have been a busy time for us.”
“But twenty years? Where’s the time gone?” She asked in astonishment.
He reached up to tuck a strand of her messy bedhead behind her ear. “I don’t know. But you’re still as beautiful as you were twenty years ago.”
Leaning into his touch, she spoke. “And your eyes still sparkle when you smile.”
“I’ll let you eat and get ready for work. New Year’s Eve orders, they’re always the hardest to get through.”
“I will see you there, though.” She leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Once the girls are in bed tonight, we’ll spend New Year’s together.”
“I look forward to it.”
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always-music0 · 3 months
Text
Run Rabbit Run.
Hannah would considers herself the unluckiest girl in the world,having being born into a tangled web of murderers and monsters that live in your closet and under your bed. Until one day an unforeseen issue makes its way into her already fucked life and now if she thought her life sucked it’s about to get a whole lot worse.
Pt.1
A Creepypasta/Twilight crossover 18+
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There went many things that made me scared-
— I mean when you grow up with the people I grew up with you get used to the ice cold feeling in your veins when you cut it a little too close to the edge and death himself is only a few inches away waiting to free your soul from this purgatory plane we call earth. But when your friends are friends with the spirit of the dead the sweet relief of becoming stardust fades into the background, and when god turns his back on your soul just because of the people you associate with you kinda don’t even consider heaven an option anymore.
Now you may be asking yourself ‘how in the hell could someone be so unlucky?’ And I should be honest and admit that it’s sorta my fault and I happen to find myself in the wrong place in the wrong time frequently.
Take last week for example jumping from state to state and school to school with the three looneys I call my ‘caretakers’ even though for the most part I take care of them and I just happened to run into a certain organ eating demon on my way home from grocery shopping it took quite a lot of convincing to keep him from taking me with him and making the looneys fucking loose their shit, even though that would be pretty funny for the first ten minutes, but would ultimately get my ass beat but I also had to cough up the fresh liver I had gotten for the dog.
He was not impressed when I came home without a treat for him to sink his teeth in. Anyways my current situation was even worse cause the three fucking losers I lived with didn’t even believe me when I said the school I would be attending for then next ten months was crawling with vampires.
“Look Tim! You have to believe me!” I wined as I followed him outside the dog at me heels.
The house we were living in was pretty secluded besides a few houses a few acres away Tim scoffed and threw his bag into the back of his old ford f-150.
The old thing was partially rusted out and everything had been replaced maybe more that it should have but like Tim it never seemed to die even with the absurd amount of times they both have been thrown off cliffs .
“Listen here, I don’t give a fuck if they were goddamn transformers. We have a fuck ton of work to do around here and not a lot of time to do it. So your gonna take your perky little ass to that school everyday and stay out of our way and stay safe” he snapped
I flinched a little, I could tell he was getting a little annoyed or stressed one of the two
“ ok so you do believe there’s vampires?” I asked and when his eye twitched I smirked
“NO! There’s no creature like the vampires I know around here and if there were the boss would have already let us know!” He yelled walking over to Brian’s 1976 Bronco and thew the back door open. I trotted after him the dog followed me silently
“Well what if they aren’t like the vampires we know?!” I asked and he groaned took a deep breath and pulled out his cigarettes Putting one in his mouth he turned his head towards me.
I immediately fumbled for my lighter almost dropping it twice, if there was one thing Tim and his counter part loved was a well trained bitc- ahem. Lighting his cigarette he inhaled.
“Look” he started blowing out the smoke he just inhaled.
“If there is for some reason vampires at your school they must be harmless otherwise big man wouldn’t have you here” he tilted his head at me as though to say ‘ya even think about that’ I blinked. of course I thought about that, I would have been shipped off to stay with someone else entirely if that were the case.
“Yeah I guess…” I said slowly looking at the dog, his eyes met mine and his tongue rolled out as he started to pant, this Washington mugginess was getting to him.
“Look at me sweetheart.” Tim said and my eyes lifted from the dog to his.
“ we wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt you, not only is that our job it would kill us if you were hurt by something we didn’t know about” he said stepping towards me and eventually standing right in front of me. I could smell the cologne I had got him for Christmas and the cigarette smoke the reason I got him cologne. I met his eyes and they flashed darker as he switched and I tried not to wince as his hand shot up and griped my chin and squeezed my cheeks not tight enough to be painful but just to keep eye contact.
“Got it princess?” Masky said I nodded the best I could he grinned as Tim took back control patting my cheek
“Good girl” he said and turned back to the bronco reaching for another bag.
“Now be a good little thing and go bother someone else I have to fix the breaks on the ford and I definitely don’t want your annoying ass around when I do it” he commanded and I sighed flipping him off
“Go fuck yourself Tim” and walked away as he laughed at me The dog at me heels.
I suppose it could be worse, I mean the three fucking weirdos did a good job of keeping me safe although I wouldn’t admit that to their faces. What’s the worst that could happen?
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A/N: Thanks for reading if you did! I know it’s littered with grammatical errors and run on sentences and it’s definitely not formatting correctly but I think meh who’s gonna see it anyways so why the hell not. But if you do read all of this thank you! Your wonderful and I will continue to post more parts as I write them<3
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backtraf · 1 year
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you could say it's a prompt, but if not, know your writing keep smile on my face 😚 I strongly believe that Kelvin keeps oldschool vinyl record player at his place, but since his hearing got worse after the crash he forgot about it. at the same time I am also convinced that if somebody asked him for a dance to sinatra's "strangers in the night" he wouldn't say no. happy tears commence. please 🙏
With Kelvin's love for music, of course he would have an old-school vinyl record player!
Kelvin and Tim were busy for the last few weeks clearing out Kelvin's old apartment. Tim used his pickup to haul a lot of the things that weren't too big, but still big enough not to go in boxes. He came across an old vinyl player, and he grabbed a nearby cloth, wiping the dust off the top and the side knobs. He smiled lightly and lifted the lid.
A record was was still sitting in the player, forgotten. A layer of dust, lighter than the one on the outside had been, coated the record. Tim blew on it gently, watching the dust fly up and off of it. With great care, he lifted it from the table and examined it. It was a Frank Sinatra album, and Tim smiled.
Memories of Kelvin subjecting the unit to songs like New York or Fly Me to the Moon surfaced, and he couldn't help but feel bittersweet about it. He remembered one song in particular that he sometimes played. What had it been?
He looked at the songs on this particular record, and none of them rang a bell, so he found its sleeve and carefully put it away before looking at the shelf that housed all of Kelvin's records. He gently looked through the stack, marveling at how old some of them had to be before he came across another Frank Sinatra album.
He pulled it out and scanned the songs, finding the one he had been looking for. Strangers in the Night. He placed the record on top of the player and scooped it up into his arms. He'd come for the rest of the records later.
He passed through the kitchen and paused at the door, calling out, "Robby, I'm gonna head home and drop off what I've got in my truck!"
"I'll be here." Kelvin called back.
Tim quickly walked out and placed the player in his passenger seat before sliding the vinyl itself carefully next to his seat. When he got back home, he took them in first, placing the player in a corner of the room where Kelvin would not be able to see it if he walked in and gently placed the record onto the turntable.
Taking a moment, he tested it to make sure it still worked and smiled when it began to play the first song. He let the record play until the song before the one he wanted ended and stopped the player, closing it gently and running to unpack the rest of his truck. He headed back to Kelvin's apartment and finished up for the day, ready to relax at home.
Kelvin collapsed on the couch, the stress of packing up his apartment wearing him down mentally. Tim opened the player back up and got the record moving again, the song 'Strangers in the Night' beginning to play. Kelvin opened his eyes, confused, to see Tim standing above him with his hand extended to him.
"Care for a dance?"
Kelvin stared at his hand before taking it, being hauled up by Tim. He began to move Kelvin around slowly, swaying to the music.
"You found my vinyl player..?" The confusion was starting to wear off, and he suddenly recognized the song, feeling tears slowly fill his eyes. "You remembered this song? Out of all my records?"
"Hard to forget something when it involves you." Tim murmured in his ear, causing a shudder to go through Kelvin's spine.
He pressed his face into Tim's shoulder and let him lead the dance, sniffling every now and then. Tim was perfect, and he was all Kelvin's.
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