#the only thing keeping me going is winter break LMAO

[forzhengting]

hello hello how are youuu

omg hi ! i've been alright, just incredibly busy w school 😭

#asks #yuhenglesbian #just realized i havent been active for like 2 months but.. uni apps + all my assignments are killing me.. </3 #the only thing keeping me going is winter break LMAO #n by then i'll be able to binge zzts new drama too 😋

[bellaofthevalley]

Pomefiore: Family Ties

i love my delusions lmao ne ways this is also another cutesy platonic one ig? def not yan or romantic but for content warnings: abandonment, surgery but it's not detailed at all dw and that's about it me thinks. reader is described using she/her. truthfully speaking this was written for a friend but for them we just usually use Darling instead of y/n, but i changed it to [name] here lol. ne ways ENJOY

Eric Schoenheit is merely walking back home from work when his life is forever changed.

During his whole life, Eric has been many things; a son, a friend, a student, a graduate and then the owner of his own successful business. But if he was asked him which title is he the proudest of, he'd pause for a few seconds, and then smile fondly. 

Eric Schoenheit’s proudest title is that he is a father. 

And being a father, one that dearly loves his son, Vil, is the very reason he pauses his steps halfway home. It's late at night, heavy snow blanketing the empty streets as everyone remains in the warmth of their home to prepare for their winter breaks, and that's when he hears the cries. 

Heartbreaking, weak, childish cries and sobs echo through the street, coming from between two abandoned buildings. He shouldn't check, he should simply inform the police… 

But he is a father now, and those sobs strike a chord deep within him. 

Many years later, he'll still pat himself on the back for going into that alleyway. 

Because if he had not gone inside, how else would he have found his second child, his sweet daughter, his dear [Name]? 

+++

What Eric finds first, is an egg. 

The egg is bigger than an ostrich egg, and it's also in shades of what could have once been pink and white, but now it was too dirty for him to be fully sure of its colour. The egg was also cracked- 

And there was a baby held within the broken shells, the one causing the cries. Eric’s eyes had widened upon seeing her, quickly kneeling down with his hands hovering over the egg. “Oh- oh dear-” he mumbles in frantic worry, unsure what he should do. This was a fae child, but… 

No chance for him to overthink it, because the baby heard him and was now reaching her skinny, emaciated little hands up towards him, her cries desperate and weak. 

Eric did not stop to think, to look closer to see if she was injured or- or if he could try to see what type of fae she at least might be. All his mind could focus on was her cries, and that she was alone and too thin, far too thin and light and he needs to get her to a hospital- 

She was gnawing on his clothes. Desperately, hungrily, gnawing on his clothes and sputtering on her cries as she realizes that there's no food. Two, strange… things keep poking Eric’s chin, but he doesn't give them much thought for now because he's too busy wrapping the little baby within his coat, shushing her softly. 

“We'll go to a hospital now, sweetie,” he mumbles to her, beginning to walk much, much faster after ensuring she's covered. She's back to gnawing on his clothes despite knowing it's not food, and his heart aches for her. “And you'll feel much better. I promise.” 

+++ 

Eric truly feels as if his life has been upturned in the last few days. 

The little baby- the little girl he had found is apparently a dragon fae, and that, by itself, was already a big shock. And then he is told, while watching her be hooked to several machines with nurses attempting to calm her because he wasn't allowed to be in the room at that moment, that she isn't a baby- an infant. She's barely a toddler, almost the same age as his own son who is being watched by his trusted nanny. 

From what Eric had understood, she had severe growth issues. Dragon eggs only hatch from the love and care of their parents, but she was all alone for at least long enough that her body forced her to grow- and grow twisted horns in a desperate, last attempt to break out of the egg and call out for anyone to help her. The same twisted horns that they'll have to do reconstruction surgery on to avoid any problems in the future for her. 

It was too soon for him to consider it, but… Eric thought that Vil perhaps would not mind a sibling, a little sister. But he wouldn't rush; if Vil really, truly didn't want to, Eric would simply ensure child protection services and the hospital would take good care of the little girl. 

In a few days, if no one comes forward about her, he'll bring Vil to meet her. He hopes it'll go well, but for now… 

“You may enter now, Mr. Schoenheit.” the nurse tells him, and he is quick to step inside, immediately coming close to the little girl.

She looks even smaller now; most of her body has been wrapped in a warm blanket, and the rest was only bare for the many needles and IVs hooked onto her. But she was also asleep, her fingers twitching slightly when Eric held her tiny little hand. 

“Tell me everything.” he demands, voice quiet as to not disturb the little girl’s rest. Even if she may not join their little family… he'll take care of her for now. 

+++

“No, no!” little Vil pouts, shaking his head and a little furrow to his brows. “Not like this!” 

Eric watches the scene with a small, amused smile, not saying anything yet. 

His sweet daughter, [Name], also pouts. “But how?” she whines, stomping her foot. He's glad to see her slowly return to her liveliness; her horn reconstruction surgery had not been easy, and he knows she'd been stressing about how they'll look once they can take the bandages off, whether they'll match her tail or not. 

The doctors had told him dragons were naturally on the prouder and vain side. This also applied to his daughter, even if she may not ever reach a particularly imposing height for dragons. 

Regardless, Eric loves her all the same. Not once during these years has he regretted adopting her, and he knows Vil absolutely adores her and loves having a sister he can play and act with- even if she doesn't want to be famous like he does. 

“Here, hold this.” Vil says, pushing her favourite plushie into her arms so she can hold it. She's immediately smiling, her milky white tail and pink spikes at the end of her tail swishing behind her, and hugs her plushie warmly. Vil also beams, proud of himself. “Perfect! Papa, take our picture now!” 

Eric chuckles, bending down and holding the camera at the right angle. “As you wish…. And there you go.” 

Quickly, both Darling and Vil rush towards him to look at the pictures. [Name] makes an ooh’ing sound, while Vil only smiles. 

“Can we hang this one in my room, please papa?” she asks sweetly, not letting her plushie go. But her other hand is intertwined with Vil’s, always finding comfort in her brother. “I like it.” 

“Do you, now?” he chuckles, gently cupping her cheek rather than patting her head like he would've usually done. “We'll pick a frame and then we'll print the pictures out, alright?” 

“I want this printed, too!” Vil decides, smiling at the forehead kiss he gets. “I'll… add it to my albums, though. I don't want to hang it.” 

“That's alright.” Eric nods his head, and then reaches to pick both of them into his arms. It makes them squeal and laugh, and gets a chuckle out of him as well. “How about we get some ice cream before Vil's audition?” And before Vil can lecture him on the over consumption of sweets with [Name] backing her brother up despite her own love for the treat, Eric clarifies more. “The healthy kind of ice cream we have, not the ones in the shops.”

And just like that, both of his children are eagerly nodding their heads. 

“I'll hold it for you!” [Name] promises Vil when they're at the audition hall. His hands are clammy, despite him constantly wiping them with clean tissues offered by his father. That's why she is offering to hold his ice cream cup for him, her plushie forgotten in the face of helping her brother. She'd even forgone her shyness in crowds and isn't hiding behind Vil or Eric like she'd usually do. 

He's done many auditions before, but this one… this one is the most important for him. He's happy his sister and father are with him, for this moment. 

Eric bends down, gently squeezing Vil’s shoulders. “Breathe with me, champ. You got this, alright? [Name] and I will be here for you regardless of what happens, I promise.” 

“Y- yeah!” [Name] can't help but stutter, her tail curling around herself because some of the staff were looking at them. But she has to do this, for her brother Vil. She reaches her hands out for him, squeezing him in a hug. “We'll always be here for you, brother.” 

And Vil… Vil does not hesitate a single second before he is hugging her back, soothed so much. Their father's arms wrap around them both, pulling them into his embrace. “...Love you, sister.” 

He does not think it, but a part of him knows that this moment will remain in his memory forever. 

+++

“You look pretty.” Vil reassures his sister, gently tugging on the hood of her custom ceremonial robes. He can sense her nervousness simply by seeing that she's hidden her tail and her nails are tapping her own stomach. “You'll be fine, sister. I'm right here with you. We're both going to get sorted together. ” 

His sister nods, aiming to give him a confident smile. He isn't lying; she truly looks pretty, her makeup simple but enhancing her, and her beloved horns gleaming. They were also milky white, with a pink gradient at the tip that paled as it came down to the base. What was special about them were the golden-filled lines from the surgery, gleaming prettily and a source of pride for her. 

She’d pulled herself free from her egg, and her horns were proof of that. 

Her face falls as more people slowly enter the hall, preparing for the sorting ceremony. Her hands quickly latch onto his sleeves, eyes nervously shifting. “Vil…” 

His face softens, and he pulls her into a hug, her face buried in his chest. Though he does shoot a glare at some of the freshmen that stare a little too long. “Deep breaths, [Name]. Don't stress, your big brother is here.”

She nods her head shakily, shudders going through her. There are too many scents, too much talking and murmuring, but Vil's embrace muffles it all. She feels so wholly protected, one of her favourite feelings in the whole world. 

“Always?” she asks, just to be sure. Her voice wavers, and her eyes are pleading. 

Vil smiles, and kisses her forehead. “Always.”

Masterpost

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil #vil twst #vil imagines #platonic twst #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #would that tag fit here #idk im adding it #Vil x reader #But it's platonic #THEY'RE SIBLINGS #vil shoenheit x reader

[ghouljams]

I'm really late to the party with this, but I have a fae-like character to share if you're interested 0w0

Basically, he was originally a human who tried to outsmart a fae by tricking it into giving him powers. Sadly, this didn't go too well for him and he ended up reduced to a monster roaming the woods in search of its next meal.

He wanted the power to change his appearance and, the fae, angry at the human for trying to deceive them, gave him exactly what he asked for. The man wanted to test out his new powers and turned himself into a moose, only it didn't work out quite right. His new body was deformed and monstrous and he found he could no longer return to his old human form.

The man can now no longer be considered human, rather a mimic that looks like a 's pretending to be a moose. While he can no longer change his form, he can mimic the sound of people's voices when he hears them, often using them to call out to friends and family, luring them into the woods to be consumed.

He can't speak in his own voice anymore, having long since forgotten how it used to sound, instead just copying the dying screams and begs for help of its prey. (Think the bear monster from annihilation).

I have a picture of him here if you're interested. (Hopefully this link works!)

I wonder if the Witch would encounter the Mimic at any point since she lives near the woods. LMAO I'm just imagining how fun it would be for it to try mimicking Price's voice to lure her over. Or perhaps one of the other darlings considering the Witch might be a little too clever to fall for such a thing.

Oooh I love this, love the horror, plus annihilation is one of my favorite movies. I hope you don't mind if I write a little something because this absolutely inspired me :)

You don't know what it is, but you've seen it, heard it. The crying, the wailing sob of a young woman, the screams of a child. The echoes of it through the thin limned trees and snow. You've watched, crouched behind your garden wall as the moose that isn't a moose wanders past with its strange and horrible cries. It scares you enough to pour salt along your wall, the purest barrier you can think of, a defense actually visible to you. You trust your threshold, but better safe than sorry.

You don't call Price, you should call Price. At least ask him to shoo the thing away. It keeps hanging around. Almost as bad as Price himself, but at least when Price spooks you, you know how to combat it. This thing is... you can't describe the feeling of it. Slick like oil, the magic simply doesn't mix with yours. Even the wisps of it through the cold of Winter give you a clear enough picture to not want it near your fence.

But it feels like it's getting closer.

Price left a little bit ago. You're back to your gardening, crouched next to the asparagus breaking off stalks with practiced fingers. You produce is coming in well this season, probably all the extra time you've been spending in the garden.

"Witch," Price calls behind you, you hum in answer, he must have forgotten something. "Sweetheart," He tries again, almost pleading. You blink, you've never heard that tone before. You stand and turn to face him.

Turn to face the dead glassy eyes of the Moose that isn't a moose as it snuffles at your salt barrier. Your ribs clench tight, stopping your breath before you can draw in a gasp. It's mouth opens to speak again, to croak out Price's voice from behind rows of needling teeth, its lips drawing too far back, predatory. It's ears twitch, listening for any sound of you. It can't get through your barrier, you remind yourself.

That doesn't stop it from trying. It's overgrown and stained horns scraping against the threshold, as it follows the line of the wall. The soft crunch of snow that follows it is too delicate for a beast that size. You turn to watch its path, the sickly matted fur, the raw musculature, you try your best to breath shallow and even. The slick magic around it is so at odds with everything you know about magic. The corrupted wild magic of human ambition and hubris where it meets a petty fae. If you weren't rooted in place you might throw up.

You press a hand to your chest, trying to feel for the strands you'd been steadfastly ignoring. Something to ground you to a feeling of safety and not this overwhelming fear. You don't know what to do but hold onto one of your ties to Price and wait for the creature to give up and leave.

When it finally does go it's with the same wailing cry you've heard so many times. It seems to be directed at you. The punishing sound of it for your ears only, crying over a lost meal. The scratches you feel on the threshold as it continues dragging its horns along it are raw and throbbing. The only solace you have is that for now your barriers have held up. You only hope that the creature is smart enough to recognize this failed attempt as a futile one, that it will find a new area to hunt in.

You'll work on a banishing spell just in case.

#oc: witch #fae au #oc talk #oh spooky scary moose we love you #Price feels his tethers light up with fear and is like: probably not a good sign #I imagine Price shoos the moose away from Witch's house with a broom #go on get outta here #just so tired of dealing with aggressive fae all day

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter seven (ls2)

Logan tries to give the two of short break in Bali. Which does succeed, but then the Canadian GP tears down anything Dhanishka had left to stand on. Good thing she's got Logan, the Norris' and Charles, right?

warnings/notes: alright buckle in. Like two sex jokes, car accidents, concussions/migraines, lightly mentioned injuries, the FIA doing their job, heavy heavy betrayal, me yet again trying to hint at the biggest Marketing Ploy x Out Of The Woods connection no one has noticed LMAO

Logan's arm is firm around my waist as I stir the food in the pan, watching the sizzle of the chicken against the oil underneath it. I murmur along to the song playing, and Logan sways us to the rhythm. I'm home for a weekend with him while my parents are off in Cambridge with my sister for her college visit. We'd taken the invitation to house sit, deciding to take a full break in the short interim off we have before we both have to leave for Canada.

"We should go somewhere." Logan hums, mouth peppering a kiss to my bare shoulder next to the strap of my tank top. He's been abnormally clingy, and while I would usually mind... it feels nice.

"Where would we even go, Lo?"

He smiles, beginning to pepper soft kisses to my shoulder, trailing them up my neck as he speaks, "Well, Dalton and his wife are in Bali this weekend. He told me he wants to see you again."

"Bali? That's a like.. fifteen hour flight from here." I chuckle, squirming when his kisses get a little ticklish around my neck and the air he huffs out in a alguh rolls across my skin.

"Fifteen hours there, then a twenty three hour flight to Canada." He says, "I looked into it."

I blink, then look down at him, "You already bought the tickets, didn't you?"

Logan smirks and I laugh, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, "I'll tell my parents tonight when they get back. I'm sure they won't mind."

Logan grins and pops a few more kisses to my lips, cheeks, and forehead before I shooing him away so I can keep cooking. The meal I'm making is not something I'd typically be eating, because its for Logan's meal plan, but luckily his team had let me throw in a small bit of Indian influence to the dish via a makeshift biryani dish. Which I know Logan's been missing by the way he melts when he steals a bite.

"You cook like your mom used to when we were kids." Logan groans against my shoulder and I laugh, taking my own spoonful and pouting a bit because its not as flavorful as we used to make it.

"You have to come to Bahrain over your winter break so you can have a proper Aayi Dubey biryani with all the spices and such." I muse, "it's lacking my mothers proper smothering of spices, sadly meal plans do restrict us from going full Indian mother here."

Logan nods, taking a bit more of the rice dish into his mouth and I laugh softly before making us two bowls of it to eat. He starts washing up some of the dishes while I'm setting the table, and I mange to pull him away to eat--promising we'll finish cleaning later.

We don't talk of much, other than him calling Dalton to let him know we'll be in Bali in two days their time. He taps his sock against my leg as I stare out the window at the setting sun. It's comfortable, just existing with him.

"I never thought we'd get here." Logan admits and I turn, looking at him curiously which makes him continue, "I thought you'd hate me through this whole thing after that night and we'd never speak again."

"I did too, to be honest." I laugh softly, finishing off the last of my rice and setting the bowl aside to take Logan's hands to stop him from picking at his fingers, "I called Lando about it, since he was the only person I knew in London at the time since Oscar was... I don't even remember, and Charles was in Monaco. I went to his and Olivia's apartment, the one they have over here because of McLaren? They told me I should just go through with the plan and do the whole fake dating thing because we kinda had too, but also to see if it maybe wasn't as one sided as I thought."

Logan just starts to giggle, small laughs that slowly grow louder before he brings my hand to his lips again, kissing my palm and then each finger.

"What's got you like this?" I laugh in response, and he grins at me sloppily with the most lovestruck look as his lips hover over my left hand. His bottom lip just brushing along my ring finger as he smiles and shrugs.

"Funnily enough, Dalton told me the same thing.” He firmly kisses my ring finger now, and just resorts to playing with my hands as a fidget instead, “You really fell for me huh?"

And now it's my turn to laugh, standing up to lean over the table to properly kiss my boyfriend. He grins, meeting me halfway with a gentle caress of my jaw and when we pull back, I rest my forehead to his.

"I was always in love with you, dumbass."

Hours later we're at that same table, Logan making sure the little decorative centerpiece my mother has is perfectly clean while I dot my lipstick back to perfection.

I figured cleaning the entire house and then making ourselves well pull together would keep my father from realizing we'd done nothing but laze around for the last few days.

Hey, we were on break, okay?

“Aw fuck.” I complain as I twist out my lipstick a bit more. Logan hums, looking over at me as I groan impatiently as I pull the whole tube up.

At the second groan he asks, “What’s a matter?”

“I’m almost out of lipstick.” I whine in complaint and he huffs out a laugh, stepping around the table to press a few soft kisses to my cheek.

"We can buy more tomorrow, yeah? Isn't there a Dior in City Centre?" He hums, pressing a kiss to my lips that has me rubbing the lipstick off his lips with a laugh as his arms wrap firmly around my waist.

"Yes, but it's fine, I can get it later and--"

Logan cuts me off with a firmer kiss this time, letting me wipe the lipstick off his lips again as he says, "Let me buy you a refill. For old times sake."

"Fine." I smile as the door opens and Logan retracts to just make it look like he was taking the lipstick from me to put it in my purse. I smile as Anya bounces to my side and starts babbling about the campus and such. I glance over my shoulder to see Logan with mt parents and the smile and wink my mom sends me says one thing,

This is all gonna work out.

logansargeant

liked by daltonsargeant, oscarpiastri, sebvettel, and 876k others...

logansargeant: booked the tickets before i asked her :)

tagged: dhanishkadubey, daltonsargeant, a.sargeant

dhanishkadubey: he deadass goes "my brothers in bali" 😭

user1: SHUT UP SHE WENT ON FAMILY VACATION?

a.sargeant: it was lovely having u and isa!!!

user2: dhanishka sargeant at this point fr

I'm standing in the bathroom of the hotel this time when Logan wraps his arms around my waist. I can hear Dalton and Ashlynn laughing in the connected living room, it feels weirdly homely as he presses a soft kiss to my jaw as one of his hands rubs small soothing circles against my hip bone.

"James call you?" I asked, I had been the one to hand him his phone, so I had seen the caller ID.

"He asked about you, actually." Logan rests his head on my shoulder once I've finished fixing up my hair and I hum as I lean back into his touch. His arms are firm, and the way his gaze wanders across my face tells me he's thinking as he takes one of my hands. My left ring finger is pecked by his lips before he settles them back at my waist again.

"Me?" I hum, watching the way he nods and still thinks. I assume it's the wording as his hands fiddle with something. I'm too focused on doing my eyeliner to look.

"You didn't answer your phone and he wanted to say he’s got the final draft of your contract ready to be signed.”

I laugh softly, looking at him in the mirror, “Wow, already?”

"Mhm." Logan kisses my cheek once I'm done with my eyeliner and steps aside to just watch me finish up my makeup. Once I've sprayed myself down with setting spray, I go to grab my lipstick and open it, pausing when I notice it's refilled.

Logan wears a triumphant smile.

"You." I poke his chest and giggle, capping the lipstick before turning around to kiss him. He laughs into the kiss, catching himself on the doorway as his hands slide around my lower back. One kiss turns to two, and ever since we'd fallen back in love it'd been impossible to keep off of eachother. Like we were making up for lost time.

A few seconds after a soft groan leaves the back of Logan's throat, followed by my giggle, Dalton shouts,

"I'm walking in, you both better be dressed!"

Logan and I laugh and I part from him, lifting my hands to fix up the bits of his hair that I'd jostled. Dalton smiles as he steps in and looks us over.

"What did you think we were doing?" Logan says to Dalton who shrugs, punching his brothers arm.

"Something not PG." Dalton shrugs and I blush, now taking my turn to whack his chest.

"Not with your immature ass around," I hum, turning back to finish up my make-up while Dalton and Logan talk about getting to our dinner reservation.

It's weird how naturally I slot into this little family, like I've always belonged.

Canada starts great. Luckily for Logan, and his success in straights, theres quite a few here. Unluckily for me, it means my overtaking this weekend is gonna be shit.

But, I know I'll fight.

I qualify Q3, beating Logan out by less than .5 or even smaller. I can't even really remember as the whole weekends a blur. Ferrari is practically running me ragged, insane amounts of training, simulator work, media... I'm exhausted each night when I fall into Logan's hotel room bed. His arms barely wrapping around me before I'm asleep against his chest.

He promises it's okay, but I feel like shit each morning for not spending time with him. But he just presses a kiss to my jaw and squeezes my hip as I get out of bed way too early to shower.

And after three nights of that, it's time for the race. By Sunday I feel like a husk, trudging myself to the garage with a water bottle full of Red Bull I'd stolen from Max. I go through the motions, take my migraine medication just as a precaution as I feel a headache forming.

And the first half of the race is fine, until I overtake Oscar to fight Carlos for P3. And I manage to get him on the hairpin turn, but something is weird about how easily he lets me by. The back wheel of my car clips something and I start to spin. I right myself, but narrowly dodge Carlos, who whips around me.

It's fine. I'm fine.

Something bumps me again and I check my mirrors, one of the RB cars coming very close to my side. I curse, steering in a bit more and understeering to get out of who I assume is Yuki's way before I'm blocking him from overtaking.

When did he get around Oscar?

"Wing damage, wing damage, I need to box." I curse into my headset, feeling the steering starting to go. It's always my steering first, I expect the rear wing to follow shortly.

"Copy."

I turn in a bit harder now, trying to get to the pit lane. It's becoming harder to steer and I feel panic rising in my stomach but I clamp it down. All I can do in this moment is trust myself, and trust my training.

I don't make it to the pitlane.

We go back through the hairpin and Carlos juts out, making me swerve to dodge. With my shit steering, it sends me into a spin. I shriek, grabbing my harness as the car--and the world around me, shuffles and spins. When the car stills I huff out slow breaths, willing myself to open my eyes.

I'm in the wall.

I can't move.

I force breaths in, force my hands to unstick from my harness. My hands come to the steering wheel and I shake, trying to disconnect it. Everything feels disconnected. I can't hear. The world is blurry. I feel sick. Sicker than sick. I manage to get the steering wheel out, tossing it up to the top of the car.

I realize no ones called for me over the radio, through the incessant ringing in my ears.

I click off the restraints slowly, trying not to jostle my aching ribs, and I get out of my car with shaking arms. And then promptly fall back in.

"Fuck!" I shriek, groaning and arching my back out of pure pain. Two hands come to my shoulders and I lift my head to see Lando. I know he's talking, but my head is swimming too much to focus on his words.

"C'mon, Danny." Lando's voice finally cuts through when he lifts my visor, "C'mon, we're gonna get you out, okay?"

"Your race..!" I gasp and he shakes his head.

"I can always get more points later, but I can't do anything if you're seriously injured and I don't help you now." He says and I nod. His hands grab under my shoulders and he helps hoist me up to sit on the halo. I try to focus, but find myself in a haze.

Somehow, I end up on a stretcher. My helmet is off and I blink slowly as Lando holds my hands.

"Dhanishka." He says softly. When did he take his helmet off?

"Lando." I hum back as the stretcher starts to roll. He follows, his hands tight in mine as he follows inside the ambulance. They've got me covered in blankets, and something clicks.

"Lando. Lando." I start saying, slapping his hands when he's not looking at me. He stops, taking my hands in his, but I just see that he's looking at me so I gasp out, "tell Logan to race. He's gonna wanna not because I got hit, tell him he has to. Tell him I said so."

When Lando nods, coaxing me to lay down again as they strap me in, I feel a bit more at ease... but the world is still soft and fuzzy and I still feel sick.

Concussed, strained muscles around my ribs, and something fucked up with my shoulder.

I'm out fully for a week, I'll skip Barcelona and be back for Austria.

Lando and Olivia are by my side when I'm told. Olivia taking it upon herself to use my phone to call my parents to let them know what was going on, and when she disappears into the hall, Lando keeps a soothing hand intertwined with mine. It's my first injury, ever. Not just a sore spot that'll go away.

And of course, the hazy symptom I'd been feeling all weekend had to be a major migraine on its way. So I'm grumpy, in serious pain, and quickly losing my stomach in a hospital bathroom while a nurse gently ties my hair back and rubs my shoulders while Lando goes out in the hall to grab Olivia.

I'm so weak I can hardly move, and the nurse is so kind, so gentle. It makes me want to cry as she guides me through the hardest parts of my migraine and gets some painkillers for my IV when it's clear I'm only set to get worse.

It takes off the edge as I'm coaxed to lay down in bed once more, a bucket off to the side if needed.

I learn from the TV playing in the room that Logan went on to place P5 behind Oscar, Carlos, Charles, and Max, in that upwards succession. Which makes me feel better a bit as Lando and Olivia help me get situated. It's only been maybe twenty minutes since the race ended, but I can hear more commotion outside than before.

A nurse calls out my room number and it takes maybe two seconds before Logan comes through the door, still in his racing gear, holding his helmet, panting like he’d ran straight here.

He had, hadn't he?

“Isa.” he sighs and I smile, extending a heavy arm to him. He shuts the door, blocking the hall light and makes his way inside the little makeshift room. He slots perfectly against my side and gently kisses my head, sighing once he’s got me safe in his hands. I wrap my un-IV'd arm around Logan shoulder, kissing what part of his head I can reach without moving. He settles me back against the blankets as Lando gives him his chair, going to get another from the hall.

Olivia sighs softly and moves a bit closer to check my IV, “She’s pretty badly concussed. Strained some muscles around her ribs and her shoulder. She's out for Barcelona, they're gonna try to get her back in for Austria."

"Ah, shit." Logan hums and I lean into his touch so he shifts so one of his hands holds mine, the other running through the wispy bangs by my face that have fallen out of my ponytail.

"Lo..." I murmur softly and he hums, looking down at my small pout. A tiny smile crosses his lips as he leans down to peck mine, then rests his forehead to mine as I whine, "my head hurts."

"I know, baby." He's basically crooning, kissing the tip of my nose and squeezing my hand, "you're gonna be alright."

Olivia gives a tiny sigh, patting Lando's arm and making a vague motion for him to follow her out of the room. They leave me and Logan in silence, the only sound the soft noise of his thumb running along my knuckles, the heart monitors methodical beeps, and the occasional kiss.

Logan, Lando, and Olivia take me back to Ferrari. The two Norris' waiting outside while I slip in with Logan. I'm only half sneaking him in and out, because if Ferrari even tried to raise hell with me when I was as in pain and as pissed off as I was right now, someone would be getting hit.

I nod to Charles when I enter and he gives me a half nod, trying to conceal the way I sneak Logan in by engrossing the engineer with a few more questions about... my car?

Why mine? Why not his?

I let the question slip from my mind, I figure I can ask him later, and go to my room. Logan helps me collect my stuff, having already brought me a change of clothes to the hospital given to him by Charles. Logan uses my phone to send a text to my manager Lucie to show her the damage to the suit, helmet, and shoes so she can get me set for new ones and then we make sure I have all my belongings and bounce.

I'm halfway through shutting the door when I hear Charles shout, "You did what?!"

"She's an idiot if she hasn't realized by now." I hear a mechanic say and I clamp a hand over Logan's mouth, he's about to complain (which, I'm sneaking him out of my drivers room, he has no right to) when a cruel laugh echoes followed by Charles' shocked gasp.

A short conversation in French, slowly getting louder and louder, is cut off by a loud slap and a scuffle. Eyes widening as I hear the two beginning to shout even louder and I grab Logan by the sleeve and shove him in my drivers room. His big eyes watch me as I pause, one hand on the door before I curse and look back at him with a sort of flame in my eyes.

"Stay!" I hiss, before slamming the door shut and following the hall to the garage. He feet carry me, sliding on the balls of my feet into the room as Charles shoved a mechanic against a wall.

"Charlie!" I shriek despite my head pounding, moving forward, knocking him to the ground with my shoulder. As he fall he pants up at me and I turn to the mechanic, then down to Charles, then step back.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Charles wipes blood from his own nose and slowly rises to his feet. There's a challenge in his eyes, and a challenge in the mechanics--and I come to realize that Aakash stands off to the side with his fists tight.

"What is this?!" I shout again and look down the hall where Astrid is dragging Logan out of my room and I blink, straightening up. She basically tosses Logan at me, and my arms shoot out to grab him as he sticks to my side.

"Ferrari's been purposefully fucking up your car this entire season! Aakash and his--" Charles starts to say before Aakash moves. It's Logan who manages to intercept, shoving me behind him as he shoves Aakash to the floor. My eyes widen to literal dinner plates, backing up until my back hits something and I look up to see Olivia.

Lando seems to have given up on holding her back as she holds her phone up.

"Charles, talk." She snips and the Monégasques listens, quickly spilling everything from his lips as Logan keeps Aakash and the other mechanic at bay, Astrid glaring daggers.

"Aakash has been having the engineers purposefully loosen the steering and rear wings, causing any and all jostling to randomly disengage them. They have it all written out on Aakash's computers, even if he tries to delete the files Ferrari keeps all changes up to a month." Charles shouts, moving closer to where Olivia keeps a hold on my shoulders. Logan backs off as well when Lando calls him over, but the guys stand in front of me and Olivia, like a wall.

"Astrid's plan was to have Dhaniska continuously wreck out so that there would be positive PR of Logan coming to her aid, but bad PR for Dhanishka because she keeps wrecking." Charles says and I see Olivia's jaw tick, her eyes glancing back to Lando's who's are equally as shifty.

Somethings not right.

Olivia and Lando echo each other as they say, "Who?"

"My manager," Logan peeks over his shoulder, "Astrid Marina."

"Oh you've gotta be--" Lando starts but Olivia's shoving her phone in my hands. And I'm reminded of the time Lando had called her the 'most aggressive Piastri' at a bar during Monaco's weekend as he darts forward but not before Olivia delivers a strong backhand to Astrid.

"You fucking bitch! They're not your little PR playthings!" Olivia screams and Lando grabs her arm, pulling her back as she keeps shouting, "I should've made sure no fucking team ever hired you again but I didn't think anyone was that level of stupid!"

Logan and I share a confused look. How the fuck does Olivia know Astrid and what the hell did Astrid do to her?

“She’s Astrid?!” Charles shouts, “what the fuck?”

“Why do you all know her!” Logan shouts and the room goes quiet. Olivia's mouth gapes, but it's interrupted by a few stewards entering the garage to see what's happening. My headache flares and I grip Logan's arm when everyone starts shouting over each other and he escorts me outside where it's a bit colder and a lot quieter.

"I-I don't understand." I eventually choke out, and Logan wraps me tight in his arms. Soft kisses are pressed to my head as he coaxes me to sit with him on the ground outside Ferrari.

And when a steward approaches us, and he sits with us, I wish I could be surprised by the fact we're being interrogated.

But yet, I'm not surprised.

f1

liked by oliviapiastri-norris, anyadubey, alexalbon, and 786k others...

f1: FIA Statement on the investigation of @ scuderiaferrari .

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taglist (thank you !)

@nichmeddar @shineforever19 @d3kstar @chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 x reader

[ladytauria]

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: Explicit (and please mind the tags) Chapter Wordcount: 4.9k

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as Jason is starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate...

i was going to wait longer to post this, but... i've been dying to share it, lmao, so i'm doing so as a birthday gift to myself <3

under the cut is a preview of the first chapter, as well as chapter content warnings. i hope you enjoy <3

CWs: underage prostitution, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, non-consensual medical exam, non-consensual pelvic exam, antiquated sexual education, degrading comments, humiliation, dehumanization, non-consensual photography, hurt no comfort, (it's coming, i promise)

tumblr is being rude and not letting me upload my divider image so take this purple text instead

Jason hasn’t stood on a street corner in over a year. He'd hoped, deep down, that he never would again. But...

Here he is, dolled up in a pair of tight shorts and a t-shirt, the combo doing nothing to protect him from the chill. Even mild as it is, the cold cuts straight through his skin.

A cigarette, unlit, dangles from his lips. He turns a lighter around and around in his palm, but doesn't light it yet.

Luckily for him—or maybe unluckily, not even an hour passes before a car sidles up to the curb. Jason's no expert, despite his brief stint at a chop shop, but he knows enough to know this one is nice. Not top of the line, exactly, but good. Shiny. Sleek. All black chrome and tinted windows, the engine purring like a content house cat before it cuts, the car rolling to a stop.

The tires would fetch a decent price. Too bad his guy is laying low, with the rest of the shop.

The man who steps out is tall, with broad shoulders and thick arms emphasized further by a leather jacket. He's bald. Despite the darkness of the hour, there are sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Jason’s grip gets a little tighter around the lighter. He forces it to loosen as he lights his cigarette. The flicker of warmth at his fingertips makes the rest of him feel folder in comparison. He takes a long, slow drag before letting the smoke pour from his nose. It dissipates in the night; the wispy cloud getting lost in Gotham's smog.

He envies it, a little.

The man's gait isn't quite a swagger. His steps are slow. Confident. The size of him is intimidating. His scent, when Jason catches it, doesn't help matters. It's thick with alpha musk, both natural and artificial. Under that is the sharp scent of burning wood. The part of Jason that's purely omega, that cares only about the safety of pack and getting fat with pups and milk, perks up. There's a low, steady heat in his blood, something that's been building for weeks now, that grows a little warmer.

Jason keeps his scent tucked tight.

The alpha leans against the wall next to him, pulling out his own smoke.

“Got a light?” he asks, casual as you please. Like they’re just two work buddies on break together.

“Yeah,” Jason says quietly.

The man doesn’t do much more than bend his head down, forcing Jason to rise onto the balls of his feet to light it. The alpha’s hand rests on his waist, above his hip, steadying him. Under his shirt, Jason’s skin crawls. He hates being touched almost as much as he craves it, these days.

The alpha blows the smoke out, into the night, and says, “Thanks,” thumb rubbing circles into Jason’s hip.

Jason lets himself shiver. Knows it’ll be interpreted as desire; not a reaction to the dread settling in his belly.

Last chance to back out, Todd, he tells himself.

He thinks about his squat. About his nest, if you can call it that; assembled from old paper and cardboard, and things he found in the very bottom of lost and found bins. About the thin blankets, the creeping cold.

About the way the absence of his pack bonds grows harder and harder to bear with each passing day; the empty spaces aching like phantom limbs.

He won’t survive a heat on his own. Even assuming no one finds him, or that the difficult-to-reach location keeps him safe… He just. He won’t. Not with what he has.

Some of the men who have picked Jason up like to make small talk. Even flirt a little, like… Like it’s something real, and not a sick perversion. This guy doesn’t. “How much’re ya askin’, kid?” He’s still rubbing Jason’s hip.

“Depends on what you want,” Jason says back. He licks his lips, and then looks up at the man through his lashes as he takes another puff, hoping the move comes off as sensual, and not stupid. “My mouth…” Jason shrugs, exhaling smoke. “Fifty. But…” He leans back, tipping his head back, exposing a little of his throat.

The alpha watches with interest; greed in his gaze.

Jason keeps tight control of his scent—but he loosens it now. The milky scent of his puphood is an undertone now; slowly being overpowered by a more adult, omega scent. It’s thick and sweet, with just a hint of spice. The lure of impending heat floats between them.

The alpha’s grip tightens on his hip. His breath has caught in his chest.

Jason stubs the cigarette out on the wall and lets it fall from his fingers. It pains him to waste one like that—but it was only ever a prop to start with. He presses against the alpha’s side, wrapping his arms around the barrel of his chest, head tipped back. “If you want to make a proper omega outta me… I think a thousand is fair. Don’t you?”

God. He wants to ask for more. Heats are usually around three days. Alphas… Alphas may not be able to match an omega’s stamina in that time, but there are no shortage of other ways for them to touch him. To violate him. But he’s pushing it already, asking for a thousand. He’s a crime alley street whore, not a pretty little O with a silver spoon in his mouth and gold on his throat.

The alpha’s hand slips to Jason’s lower back, just above the swell of his ass. It— It’s a fight not to let revulsion sour his scent, his expression. His skin crawls. His stomach rolls.

“A thousand,” the man repeats, rolling the words in his mouth. Then his lips quirk up at one corner. “Yeah, kid. I think a thousand’s fair.” He stubs out his own cig before pulling out his wallet; a beat-up leather trifold.

Jason’s teeth catch on his lip. He watches him count one, two, three—five hundred dollar bills, folding them in half and offering them between two fingers.

“Half up front.”

He’s sure the alpha must be able to hear the way his heart thunders. If he does, though, he gives no indication. Jason takes the money, pushing it into the pocket of his shorts.

Then he lets himself be guided to the car. Just before Jason steps off the curb, the alpha grabs him, yanking him against his chest. His arm locks around Jason’s chest like a vice. Jason claws futilely at the arm around him. Though the alpha growls, scent sharp with pain, he doesn’t let go.

Jason twists. Kicks. “Let me go—“ He’s lost all control of his scent now; his terror is thick and sour in the night air.

The alpha covers his mouth—Jason takes his chance. He sinks his teeth into the meat of the alpha’s palm, clamping his jaw down as tightly as he can. Blood floods his mouth.

“Fucking bitch—“ The alpha snarls, dropping Jason.

Jason doesn’t think—he just runs, stumbling before righting himself.

Unfortunately, the universe has never been kind to Jason Todd, and she’s not about to start now. He’s not even sure what he trips on, only that one minute, he’s running, and the next—

He plummets.

He manages to avoid face planting, catching himself on his hands. Before he can push himself back up, though, the alpha reaches him—his boot slams into Jason’s side, knocking the breath from him.

The alpha kneels beside him, hand closing roughly around the back of Jason’s neck. He scruffs him roughly; thumb and middle finger pressing down on his scent glands, palm pushing at the back of his neck. Submission floods Jason’s veins. Unwillingly, he slumps into the concrete, all the fight leaving him.

He lets out a pup’s call—not for pack but for anyone. It’s small and helpless and immediately cut short by the alpha hauling him up and over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

Tears pool in his eyes.

He’s not strong enough to resist it. Not strong enough to do anything but twitch as the alpha carries him into the car. He drops him in the trunk, securing his limbs with zip-ties, rendering Jason utterly immobile.

Baldie slams the trunk shut, trapping Jason in the dark.

#jaytim #timjay #batcest #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut #happy birthday to me <3

[burning-academia-if]

I'm so sorry for all the notifications lmao I'm going around liking every ask because i haven't been on the page for a bit. And why the fuck is all the asks making me like Lars. I don't want to like Lara because Lara doesn't want to like my MC.. i already have enough problems with Rook 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I need to stay away from these problematic ROs. 😭

Oh quessssstiiioooon someone's probably asked this before but I've seen it on a few blogs. But since magic is obvs a thing. If someone cursed MC or gave them something that could only be broken by true love's kiss (especially since mc doesn't really have the healthiest relationship with those they are close to so who would think they could break a spell like that)

and it's after they've confessed to the ROs. How would they react to MC not waking up at first after they kissed them... but waking up after they've started having a major meltdown after all?

If you have gotten this ask could i please have a link because finding anything on tumblr is... 😒

And i literally fall in love with this goddamn IF every time i read anything on this page. It's a curse in itself... I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤣😇💜

Omg never apologize for mass liking, that's literally anyone on Tumblr's lifeblood lol

Also you know, I feel like Lars, despite being the biggest asshole of the ROs, is still less of a handful then Rook lmfaO good luck with dealing with them!

Also I have not been asked this one before! Felt very inspired it with, so I turned it into a prompt!

Rook:

            You’re so still against the touch of his lips. You’re still even after he pulls away. His chest buzzes so loud it echoes in his ears. You don’t move, not even the flutter of your lashes and he should have known. How can he be your true love, when he spent so many years running away?

            Whoever it is, would look you in the eyes when you said you loved them. They’re someone who would have taken you in their arms instead of turning away again and again. He sinks to his knees, hands clutching at the side of the bed where you lay. Tears burn at his eyes, but not a single one falls.

            Even before he made this foolish decision, he knew. All that’s left is to find the one could wake up. If you’re life lays in the hands of someone else, a fact he always knew, then so be it.

            He’ll let you go, like he should have so long ago. He will. He just needs another moment here with you before he turns away. He needs to hear your heartbeat and the cadence of your breathing for one last time.

            Time passes as slow as honey, thick and opaque. His body is listless. In the silence, your breath catches and he blinks. Turns. You take another shaky breath, and when your eyes open, he’s on his feet.

            “MC!” He gathers you in his arms, holding on tight. “Oh, thank god. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

            His forehead falls against your shoulder, and the tears finally fall. Your awake, your body is warm. And maybe, just maybe, he really does have a chance to make things right.

Beck:

            When you don’t move after he pulls away, he doesn’t waver. Magic is strange, it can effect everyone differently, and with how much magic has affected you, he isn’t concerned that there isn’t an immediate response.

            Instead, he takes a seat next to where you lay. He brings his knees up to his chest and tells you about all the things you’ve missed. The first flowers of spring, the new used bookstore that opened up on the corner, school events, and class drama.

            The time ticks down, and it pricks at his heart. He keeps talking. About himself, about his life, about how he first fell for you, about how you are the warmth of the fire on a winter day, and if even if he isn’t your true love, then that’s ok. He’s just so glad he was able to have any time with you at all.

            At some point, his throat is dry and he’s run out of words. What can he say, as the sky turns a dusty orange. He swallows, eyes fluttering closed and feel the first of the tears fall. If it isn’t him to wake you up, then who will it be? And how long will you be cursed to sleep until they find you?

            A world without your laugh is far worse than a world where the two of you aren’t meant to be.

            Then.

            You shift beside him, and he goes still. When he looks, he sees your eyes flutter open, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him.

            “…You’re awake.” He says, voice barely above a whisper. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, so impossibly gently. “You’re awake.”

            He laughs, a watery, trembly sort of laugh, as he runs a thumb against your cheek. You’ll still be with him.

Rhea:

            “Please wake up.” She whispers, kneeling next to you. There is no sign the kiss did anything. It’s fine, this isn’t the end of the world. She has had the logic of magic seared into her brain, and she knows how it works. She’ll wait. She can wait.

            But still, you remain still. She gets up and moves around, to give her body something to do as she waits. She’s not good at that, waiting. She always needs to be in the midst of doing something. Making progress. When something’s out of her hands like this, she feels like she’s in freefall.

            There might be a chance, she thinks as time ticks by, that you and her aren’t the ones for each other. Somehow, it makes the anxious energy in her gut easier to deal with. As long as she doesn’t think of the heartbreak that will hit the moment she leaves your side, it gives her a plan. Something to work towards. Steps to map out to figure out where to go from here and how to wake you up. The process of even finding the one who could do so.

            She’s on step four when your fingers twitch. She goes still in response. All her thoughts scatter. Like a deer in headlights she watches you, wondering if it was just her imagination. But then your body shifts and she’s next to you again, softly calling your name.

            “MC? Can you…can you hear me darling?” When you blink away, she feels a smile bloom despite herself. You’re awake and well and still hers.

Zoe:

            There’s doubt in their chest even before they press a kiss against your lips. For it to be them? They’re not the kind of person who makes it into fairytales. They know this. Stories are the sort of thing they’ve studied their entire life. They exist on the other side of the glass, able to peer in but never able to be.

            As you remain still, they stand and lean back on their heel. Whoever your true love is, it isn’t them. It isn’t that they doubt your love, but it’s hard to imagine that kind of forever for them. If this was the fate they were dealt, then so be it. And even so, you were their first love, and that’s a kind of special whatever comes next can’t take away. Even on different paths, even living different lives, you can both still be a fond memory for the other.

            But god, they’ve never experience heartbreak either or the way it collides into their body and leaves them breathless. They wanted this. Every moment with you was a dream they never thought they’d get a chance to see. They were awkward and clumsy, and they were the luckiest person alive to have been able to met you.

            They press a hand against their mouth, to stop the sob that’s trying to break through them. The image of you blurs as tears collect in their eyes and stream down their cheeks. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying to collect themselves.

            It’s why it startles them, when they feel a hand reaching out, “…Zoe?”

            They choke on a gasp, eyes flying open to see you awake. You’ve pulled yourself up, and your eyes are open. It strikes them so suddenly, they all but throw themselves against you. Any embarrassment they used to feel is gone. They’ll never let themselves hesitate again.

Lars:

            “You would get yourself cursed.” He whispered against your lips as he pulls away. He doesn’t believe in true love or soulmates. For a curse to be based on the concept, it must make it the flimsiest curse to have been made. All it really needs is love and faith and stubbornness. Maybe his faith is lacking, but he sure as hell can make up for it with stubbornness.

            So he waits. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and wonders how long it will take. His hand toys with your fingers absently. With you asleep, you won’t be able to comment on the display. He still remembers when you said you loved him, the look in your eyes that left no room for doubt. He thought you were making a terrible decision, but he wasn’t one to complain. Your terrible decision, just lead to his great decision to go along with it.

            The time passes slow, but the anxiety never comes. That isn’t who he is. Not when he’s sure about this, or at least more sure about it then whatever magic was used on you. And even if the kiss doesn’t wake you up, he’ll just find whoever cursed you in the first place and make them reap the consequences.

            When he feels your hand move, slipping your fingers between his, he sighs, “About time you got up.”

            “Lars? My hand—”

            “Don’t get used to it.” You laugh, the sound scratchy from sleep, and he feels his body relax. It was nice to have you back.

???:

            They know your souls are too entwined to have a doubt. That doesn’t not mean there won’t be blood on their hands for what was done to you. How dare someone curse the one they love. How dare someone put their hands on you.

            They’re kiss is so painfully soft despite the violent rage in their chest. It’s been so long since they’ve felt this burning under their skin. Did the Curse Giver think you were alone and unloved? Did they not realize you had someone who was entwined with you in every way, down to the way you take a breath.

            The wraiths flicker around them, agitated by the tremble in their body. They keep close to you, body curved as a way to shield you from the rest of the earth. If you don’t wake soon, they’re hands will find a blade, and that blade will find a body. The wraiths whisper amongst each other, as though capable of soothing them.

            “But you were cursed even before this, weren’t you?” They breathe, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You shift beneath them, and when they pull away you open your eyes.

            You say their name, and the sound of it wraps around them. They have a Curse Giver to kill, but for now, they only lay down beside you, and ask if you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for so long, and it took too long to get to you. They’ll never be late again.

#em answers #ch: rook #ch: beck #ch: rhea #ch: zoe #ch: lars #ch: ??? #true loves kiss in the world of fairytales? more likely then you think #also got to write angry ??? for the first time let's goooo

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 8

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve is trying to get better. She is trying to move on.

warnings | 18+ angst, mention of alcoholism, therapy talk, sad times folks

a/n | I dedicate this chapter to all of the asshole neuro grad students I have dated, your douchebaggery is astonishing and inspiring lmao

song for this chapter: Rapt by Karen O

......................

“Well, how did this past week go, Steve?”

“Um, better– I think.”

“That’s good. How was it better?” He tries not to roll his eyes at that, but still lets out a huff, sinking further into the sofa.

“I, um, I’ve been doing the mindfulness stuff? Every morning, like you said. And I’ve been doing the writing stuff in the journal you gave me.” Doctor Staub nods at that, lightly smiling.

“I’m glad to hear that. But, you know, those things I assign you to work on are only good if they help you make real change in your life.” Steve sighs and Staub raises a brow at him.

“So, what kind of changes have you made, Steve?” He huffs, but takes a deep breath, something he hates to admit works really well in keeping him from lashing out.

“I’m still not drinking, at all. And I’ve been spending more time with my friends, making more of an effort.” Staub nods.

“Good, good. I know we had discussed friendship being a part of your values. It sounds like you’re working on being more in line with that. Have you given more thought to what we discussed last week?” Steve makes a low sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head.

“I mean– I have thought about it– I just don’t know what’d I’d even say– I just– she– I don’t know.” Staub hums.

“Have you tried writing a letter to her? You don’t have to send it, obviously, but it might be a good place to start.” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. He had tried writing a letter in the fucking journal his therapist had given him, but he got all of three sentences down before he was dissolving into a mess of tears. 

“I just don’t think she’s gonna want to hear anything I have to say.” 

“Sounds like you’re jumping to conclusions, my friend. Look, I can’t make you do anything, but you did tell me your biggest reason for wanting to make changes was her.” Staub sets down his notepad, fixing Steve with a firm look.

“There’s no question, Steve. You fucked up– bad. But from what you told me, it sounds like there was real love there, and that deserves enough respect to at least make things right. I want you to keep thinking on it, ok? What would you tell her?” 

Steve still doesn’t like therapy, but even he has to admit that it seems to be helping. He’s been going for a while now, but hadn’t been trying until after that night at the hotel with her. It just so happened that the next day he had already had an appointment scheduled, and when he didn’t show up, Staub called him. Steve had started drinking the moment he left the hotel, and by the time his phone was ringing he was a pitiful, mumbling mess. But he had been just about shocked sober by what Staub told him over the phone that day.

“Look, kid, I don’t have a horse in this race. But it just seems like a real shame for you to be fucking yourself up like this when there’s really no need for all this bullshit.” No one had ever leveled with him so clearly. No one had ever been so certain there was a way out for him. So, Steve actually started trying in therapy. 

He has six weeks under his belt, but he still has a hard time thinking about that night. When he thinks about what he wants to say to her, all he knows is that sorry wouldn’t come close to covering it.

…

“Oh! Sorry about that, I–”

“Well, if it isn’t neuro’s golden girl. Did you have a good winter break?” She hasn’t seen Thomas since the night of the banquet, and, now running into him coming out of her advisor’s office, she can’t help but think that he looks even smarter dressed down in a crewneck sweater and levi’s. She offers him a smile, scoffing at his remark.

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll start getting a complex or something. But, um, my break was good, yeah. How was yours?” Her break was shit. She spent most of it between her dorm room and the lab, burying herself in preliminary research work and spending her nights listening to her Mazzy Star CD and crying. But Thomas didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Went home for a bit, then came back a little early to get some work done. Speaking of, I heard you’re officially on board for next year. Congratulations, I can’t wait to see what you do.” She feels a blush spreading at his words.

“Thank you, I’m really excited– and also relieved– to be on board, as you said. I can’t wait to start working.” He grins, perfect teeth and a perfect dimple in his one cheek.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I already saw you starting to work in the labs over break.” Her face falls, embarrassed, but he laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose before smiling at her.

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. But I admire that, you’re obviously a hard worker. I’d love to hear more about what you’re thinking about for your research– maybe over drinks some time?” She really hadn’t been expecting that, and can’t help but trip over her words a bit.

“Oh– I, um– I don’t know–” Thomas sighs, cutting off her floundering.

“Oh, shoot. I just put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I? Totally forgot about the firefighter boyfriend.” She’s quick to shake her head at his words ignoring the twist of a knife in her chest. His face lights up once again in hope.

“Um, it’s not that– we’re not– I’m not– not with him anymore.” Thomas raises a brow at her.

“No?” She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

“It’s just– is that like– appropriate?” He lets out another laugh before fixing her with a crooked grin.

“Why? Because I’m on the admissions board?” She nods and he huffs, pursing his lips.

“Well, seeing as you’re already signed, sealed, delivered for next year, I’d say there isn’t a conflict of interests anymore. So, how about it?” Part of her wants to say no, out of reflex. But she manages to stop herself. It has been nearly two months after all. Maybe it’s time to move on. She tries her best to smile brightly at him.

“Um, ok, how’s this Saturday?” His dimple pops again as he nods, and she feels the lightest flutter in her chest, a welcome change from the dormant cobwebs that seem to have set up shop there. She digs into her tote bag in search of a pen.

“Here, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.” She brandishes the pen and is only a little surprised when he, without hesitation, tugs up the sleeve of his sweater and holds out his forearm for her. She finds her footing quickly, holding his wrist and scribbling her number out. He huffs out a light laugh as she finishes, both of them glancing shyly at each other as she steps back. He offers her one more flashy grin as he starts to shuffle backwards down the hall.

“Alright, golden girl. I’ll call you.”

…

She almost doesn’t answer the phone that night, already wavering on going out with Thomas, but when she does buck up enough to pick it up, she’s surprised by who it actually is. She’d recognize that gruff voice anywhere.

“Um, hey– hi. It’s me– um, Steve. I– how are you?” She’s honestly stunned. He hadn’t tried to call her at all since that night. A week after the incident at the hotel, she had returned to her dorm to find her friend waiting with a box of her things. He had dropped it off, no note or message or anything. She hated how much that had hurt. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hate him, even though she knew she should.

“Um, hi, Steve. I-I’m ok, yeah. How have you been?” She doesn’t know what to say, it feels like a thick swath of cotton has settled in her throat.

“I’m doing ok, yeah. Um, I was wondering if we could maybe talk sometime?” She hesitates to answer, her stomach twisting, but Steve presses on.

“I’m not asking you for anything, it’s just– it’s for this therapy thing? And, you obviously don’t have to forgive me, um– I’d just like to say my piece– if you’ll let me.” Now she’s really shocked. That he’s still doing therapy. That his voice sounds so unsure and timid. It’s a far cry from the Steve she had gotten used to. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose to steady herself.

“Um, ok– I get that– do you wanna, like, get coffee?” She can hear the heavy sigh he lets out over the phone, can practically picture him raking his hand through his hair.

“I– yeah– thank you– that’d be great. When are you free?” She tells him she’ll have time Thursday afternoon and he tells her he’ll make that work, awkwardly going to hang up, but she stops him.

“Steve? I think it’s really great you’re still going to therapy.” He lets out a light laugh, his voice crackling over the phone.

“Yeah, I guess you were right about that, about a lot of things actually.” She doesn’t have time to think about what his words mean because he’s already saying a quiet goodbye, the click of the receiver jostling her out of her swimming thoughts.

Thirty minutes later, her phone rings again. She tries to not let guilt slither in as she makes a date with Thomas for Saturday.

…

Thursday comes before she’s ready. Her last class ran late, and she now has to hustle to get to the coffeeshop they had agreed to meet at. It’s one close to his apartment. She remembers how whenever they both, by some stroke of luck, had nowhere to be in the morning, they’d slink down the block to the shop, taking a close booth in the back and sharing breakfast. Perhaps uncharacteristically, Steve had an affinity for the crosswords in the daily paper, and they’d quietly work it over, hands brushing across the table. She has to physically shake her head of the memory as she keeps walking towards the shop, her heart seizing up the closer she gets.

He looks well, really well. She sees him before he sees her, tucked away in the same booth they used to share. He has on a navy sweater, sleeves rucked up under his elbows. He was always pretty to her, but now, he looks healthy, the typical dark circles under his eyes faded into barely there smudges, the only word she can think of to describe his hair is fluffy, perfectly flopped over his face and tucked behind one ear. When he catches her gaze, his eyes are clear, awake, a far cry from the cold stare he had fixed her with that night at the banquet. His lips crook into just a ghost of a smile, brow creasing. She muses that he looks just as nervous as she feels. As she makes her way over to him, he stands, smoothing his palms down the front of his jeans. She has to resist the urge to reach for him as she stands in front of him, and by the way his hands flex by his sides, she guesses he’s doing the same. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Hey, it’s good to see you. Um, thanks– for doing this.” She smiles, nodding lightly as they both sit down. She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands to keep herself from fidgeting from nerves.

“I’m glad to see you looking so well, Steve.” It’s her clinician’s voice, the one she uses in the hospital when she gets to interact with patients, and it doesn’t feel right using it on him, but she’s not sure what would be right in such a situation. He offers her a small smile and a low “thanks” wringing his hands where they’re resting across the table from hers. He seems to be having a hard time holding her gaze, his eyes keep darting down to the side of the booth. She breaks the silence.

“You said you’ve kept up with therapy? How is it going?” 

“It’s been good– um, better. Doc says I’m making real progress. I-I’m not drinking anymore– and I’m doing that meditation shi–stuff you wanted me to do. You were right– it, um, it really helps.” She smiles at that, tilting her head to catch his downturned gaze.

“That’s really great, Steve. It sounds like you’re working hard.” He shrugs, offering her half a smile.

“What about you? How have you been?” She sighs.

“Um, I’ve been doing alright. Working hard, but that’s nothing new. I, um, I got accepted. To IU for next year, so I guess I’m officially a grad student.” Steve nods at that, eyes darting up to hers only briefly before focusing back on his hands.

“You deserve it, probably more than any other student. Work so hard.” She knows it’s a sore spot, for both of them, so to hear him huff out even that means a great deal to her. Steve sits back in the booth, holding her gaze as he speaks. 

“So, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just ask that you listen to what I have to say– is that alright?” She’s stunned by his meek demeanor, the uncertainty in his expression, but she nods. Steve huffs, his shoulders slackening just slightly as he looks down to his side again before finally holding her gaze.

“It’s not enough– fuck, I know it’s not enough– but I want to tell you how sorry I am. Not just for that night– a-at the hotel– but for the way I treated you the whole time we were together–” his eyes dart back down to his side and she tries to crane over her seat to see just what it is that keeps pulling his attention, but his gaze has already focused back on her as he continues.

“The way I treated you was terrible– and, fuck– you deserve the world– um–” This time, when his eyes dart away again, she leans over the table and sees that what he keeps looking at is an open journal laid next to his lap, his obvious penmanship scribbled across the pages. She huffs, not quite sure what she feels at the realization that Steve had prepared something to say to her. When he looks at her again, worry is splashed across his features. She sits back, for a moment taking in the sight of this man who is so changed from what she remembers. There’s no simmering anger in his eyes, just clear anxiety. 

“Steve, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to use a script. We can just talk, ok?” He nods, lightly chewing on his lip. She sighs before continuing.

“Is it alright if I say something now?” He nods again, his eyes unwavering now as he looks at her.

“I know that you really hurt me, Steve. In more ways than one. And I also know that you carry a lot of pain with you, and I’m just relieved you’re finally talking to someone about it. I can forgive you, Steve. And I can be happy for you, that you’re obviously trying so hard to get better. And I also can never forget the way you hurt me. I think that’s going to stay with me for a long time.” It’s a therapy trick, from dialectical work that she had been studying recently, using “and” statements instead of “but.” She means it though, all of those things she said are somehow true at the same time. A heavy silence falls between them, Steve nodding at her words as he stares at his hands. His voice is a hoarse whisper that she can barely hear over the din of the coffeeshop when he finally speaks.

“I’m so sorry. You– you were everything to me– and I just wish I had treated you like it.” There’s nothing else to be said, not really. She lets out a long sigh.

“I should go, I have a shift starting soon. But, I’m really glad we talked, Steve. I hope you’ll keep taking care of yourself.” She doesn’t have a shift starting soon, but she knows she needs to get out of here before she does something she’ll regret later. She slips out of the booth, shrugging her coat back on as he stands. He stammers a bit, running a hand harshly through his hair before finally looking at her.

“Thank you– for everything. You, um, you really changed my life. And I’m just sorry I couldn’t be better for you.” Her heart catches at his words, and she’s moving before she can really think about it, wrapping him up in a hug that he clearly wasn’t expecting, his hands hovering lightly over her back. She breathes in deeply, the scent of him that she had gotten so used to, murmuring softly into his chest.

“Goodbye, Steve.” She’s quick to pull back from him, sniffing away tears that are threatening to spill over as she gives him one last smile, his expression slack in seeming shock at her actions.

She keeps it together the entire walk back to campus, but dissolves into sobs with the soft click of her door behind her.

…

“Red or white, what do you think?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” Thomas smiles, laughing lightly.

“What would you like to drink? Are you more of a red girl or do you like the sweet stuff?” She smiles sheepishly at his question. Truthfully, she had no clue which she liked, most of the wine she had consumed up to this point had come in a box. She sighs, pretending to think on it.

“You pick. I’m not exactly a connoisseur.” He grins at that, glancing back at the menu before looking up to the waiter.

“We’ll do a bottle of the seventy-five merlot.” The waiter nods, taking the menu, and Thomas looks back at her with a crooked smile.

“It’s a nice red for beginners. You should be able to handle it, yeah?” It takes every fiber of her being not to roll her eyes at that, instead smiling lightly and nodding. She’s learning very quickly that Thomas is quite confident in himself, flirting dangerously close to arrogance, but she knows her mom would tell her he’s certainly too big for his britches.

She doesn’t want to be here, not really. It’s a swanky restaurant uptown, and she’s in her nicest dress (because Thomas had told her to wear something dressy) and all she wants to do is curl up in bed and think about Steve like she had the last two nights since they got coffee. But she knows she needs to move on, so she white knuckles her way into smiling and laughing at all of Thomas’ stories, making polite conversation. Although she doesn’t have to try too hard at keeping up a dialogue, Thomas seems fine to keep talking all on his own. Quite frankly, he won’t shut up about his research, something she finds funny considering he had seemed so excited for her to tell him about her work. 

“Yeah, it’s just a real lightning in a bottle type thing, you know? I’m just glad I caught my idea and pursued it, and now it looks like all my work is gonna pay off.” She smiles, swirling the wine in her glass. She’s decided she really doesn’t like red. Before she can give him some sort of expected response, however, a flashing light catches her eye, followed by the loud blare of a fire alarm.

The whole restaurant gets evacuated out onto the sidewalk. She’s just grateful she had half a mind to shrug her coat on before they all got shepherded out into the cold night. Thomas meanwhile, is less than enthused, scoffing and muttering about how he “can’t believe this, so ridiculous.”

And then a fire truck pulls up, and she can’t help the little kick her heart does at the sight. The throng of people is a bit too crowded together and all she can see is three firemen helmets walking into the restaurant, her shoulders slumping in dismay. It’s a calm affair, at least, the manager comes out promptly and lets the patrons know that there’s been a gas leak and they’ll unfortunately have to close for the night. She has to stop herself from laughing at the scrunched-up look on Thomas’ face, catching herself as she starts to see a way out of this already long night. Thomas sighs, bringing a hand to rest on her upper arm.

“Well, not exactly as planned. But would you like to come back to mine?” It’s entirely too forward, and confirms her hasty exit route.

“You know, it’s been really nice spending time with you, but I have a morning class tomorrow and I should probably just get home.” His grin falters just slightly, brow creasing.

“Um, ok, if you’re sure about that. Can I get you a cab?” She huffs, glancing around and seeing a payphone a little further down the block.

“Actually, I’m just gonna call my friend to pick me up. Save myself a little money, yeah?” His grin has completely dissolved now into something more like a grimace, but he nods.

“Alright, golden girl. I’d like to do this again, huh? Some time soon?” She nods, trying to keep her smile from melting off her face in complete resignation. She does her best not to flinch as he lays a kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “good night” before he turns and heads off in the other direction, shrugging his coat closer around his figure. 

Once he’s far enough away, she sighs, letting out a low curse as she walks over to the phonebooth. She’s frustrated more than anything, at Thomas, but also at herself, that she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Steve. She leans against the wall of the phonebooth, waiting for her friend to pick up. But when the dial tone just keeps ringing, she huffs, slamming the phone back onto its receiver and shuffling back onto the sidewalk. 

The crowd has dispersed, the firetruck still there alongside the restaurant. She cranes her neck, looking for a taxi passing by, but with little luck.  What she hadn’t been expecting, although maybe hoping for, was someone calling her name. She whips around, and sure enough, it’s him. He has his helmet cocked on his hip under one arm, his heavy jacket hanging loosely open. Uncertainty is clear across his face as he says her name again like a question. She can’t help but laugh.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” The furrowed look on his face slackens a bit, enough for him to share a disbelieving chuckle with her. She steps a little closer to him, now seeing that those two young men, the same ones she met over Thanksgiving, are who he’s working with tonight as they load their gear back into the truck. 

“Are you– what are you doing out here?” She sighs, offering him a crooked smile.

“I, um, may have been getting dinner with someone at that restaurant before– well, it doesn’t really matter now.” Steve’s face sets in a deep frown, but he nods.

“Can I ask where your date went?” She laughs at that, toeing her shoe into the ground.

“I sort of ditched him. We didn’t exactly hit it off.” She hopes she’s not imagining the flash of something that skitters across Steve’s face at that, but it’s gone in an instant as he huffs at her words.

“Are you alright? Nothing happened, right?” It’s her turn to huff, shrugging lightly.

“I’m fine, just hungry. I didn’t even get a meal out of it, just a glass of really gross wine.” That coaxes a full smile out of him, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed seeing that, such a rare piece of Steve. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous flutter seeming to run through him.

“Well, I mean, the guys and I are off duty now– we were gonna stop and get something on the way back to the station. You could come with us if you want? We can drop you back at campus too.”  She stutters a bit at the invitation. Every part of her wants to say yes, but every part of her knows she should say no.

“Oh, I couldn’t– I don’t want to– like, impose– you don’t have to–” He cuts her off with a gentle hand on her arm.

“I’d be happy to, really.” 

And so, she finds herself riding shotgun in a firetruck, stealing glances at Steve in the driver’s seat. He had relegated the other two men to the back before she could say anything otherwise. Definitely not how she had been expecting this night to go.

“What are you in the mood for?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by Steve’s question.

“Oh, um, I don’t even know. I think just about anything would sound good right now I’m so hungry.” He hums, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You eat lunch today?” She sighs, a shy smile as she tells him she hadn’t. He knows her too well, and had often gotten on her for breezing right over lunch when they were together. She had gotten worse about it recently, with all her work in the lab and without him reminding her. He just sighs, a slight smile quirking his lips.

“I guess some things don’t change. You must be starving, ba–” He clears his throat, stopping himself from saying whatever term of endearment she thinks he was about to call her.

“I think I know a good spot. Let’s get some real food in you, huh? Wash down that gross wine.” She laughs and is rewarded with another smile from him as his eyes briefly dart over to her. For the first time in a while, it feels like she can take a breath without it getting stuck in her chest.

…

“God, this was such a good idea.” Steve huffs a laugh around a bite of his burger, eyes crinkling as he looks at her where she sits in the passenger seat. She practically moaned when they pulled up outside the burger shop, the same one she had gotten takeaway from on Thanksgiving to share with him. Greasy bags of food in tow, when they pulled back into the station, Steve promptly handed the two men - Miller and Thompson - their orders, all but shooing them out of the truck. He had offered to drive her back to campus right away, but she had told him she’d rather eat with him, while the food was still hot. He didn’t need to know that wasn’t the only reason. So, to avoid the ruckus of a crowded fire station of middle-aged men, they stayed in the truck, eating around shared smiles and simple talk. 

She goes to dip a few fries in her milkshake, and Steve groans.

“I forgot you do that. So gross.” She snickers, happily chewing her fries.

“Oh please. You never even tried it. How do you know it’s gross?” He shrugs and shakes his head, but she’s already dipping a few more fries in her shake before holding them in front of his face.

“Just try it, Steve. C’mon.” He grumbles, but gives in, tentatively biting down on the fries. She doesn’t miss the way his lips brush her fingers. He chews slowly, eyes scrunched closed, before letting out a long sigh as he swallows.

“Yep. I was right. That’s gross.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but can’t help the grin spreading across her face as she looks at his smug expression. They hold each other’s gaze for just a beat too long, both of them looking away, focusing back on the remnants of their food. Steve breaks the silence first, clearing his throat.

“This is probably a stupid thing to ask, but can I know who you were going out with tonight?” She sighs.

“Steve–” He’s quick to shake his head, his hands up in surrender.

“No, I know– that’s a stupid question and you don’t have to answer.” She leans over the console slightly to catch his gaze.

“It’s ok, really. Um, I went out with Thomas Klein.” She can see the furrow settle between his brows, but she rests her palm on his knee, drawing his attention back to her.

“I went out with Thomas Klein, and it sucked.” His brows shoot up, eyes wide as he looks at her. She just nods.

“Yeah, he’s a grade A dickhead.” Steve’s face crumples again at that as he turns in his seat to face her.

“He didn’t try anything, did he?” She laughs, shaking her head.

“God, no. He just– fuck– he is so full of himself. I think it might actually be a personality disorder.” She’s got him laughing with her now, shoulders lightly shaking. He sighs as they both quiet down.

“Is it bad that I’m kinda happy you don’t like him?” She offers him a small smile, shaking her head as she sits back in her seat.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could like him even if I tried. Or anyone else for that matter. Fuck, Steve– I just– I wish– more than anything– that you hadn’t done that– that night at the hotel.” His face falls, eyes stilled on his hands in his lap.

“I think I wish that more than anything too.” A long silence settles between them until she finally glances at him again.

“Can I just– can I ask why? Why couldn’t you believe me when I told you there was nobody else– why couldn’t you believe what I told you about my research?” He huffs before meeting her gaze, a deep frown across his face.

“My, uh– my therapist says my brain is like a dog with a bone. Once it’s set on something, it has a hard time letting go of it. It was never you– I know you know that– I just– fuck– I felt so out of control around you.” He sighs, flexing his hands before continuing.

“I guess I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop– you were too good for me–” She goes to protest, but he shakes his head.

“You were too good for me– and I knew that and I knew that eventually you’d figure that out– a-and you’d leave, just like everyone else.” His last few words are a hoarse murmur that she barely hears. He clears his throat again.

“It was easier to get angry– it’s always been easier to get angry– so that’s what I did. And the way I treated you because of that– it fucking destroys me thinking about it.” Silence falls over them again. 

“I didn’t want to leave. I-I still don’t want to leave.” His eyes dart to hers in a flash, wide and questioning.  She shakes her head.

“I know it’s stupid– I should hate you for what you did. But I can’t. I still care about you, Steve. And it drives me mad that I can’t stop. But–” 

“But?” He’s leaning slightly over the console, lips parted as his eyes search her face. A few rogue waves have flopped over his eyes and she has to resist the urge to sweep them back. She lets out a long sigh.

“But, I don’t know how we could– how we could go on after that. I don’t think I can do that either– a-and I feel trapped in this– this limbo of wanting you so badly, but knowing I shouldn’t.” She slumps back in her seat, quickly glancing at Steve whose eyes look a touch unfocused, like he’s working through something just out of reach. He finally lets out a ragged exhale.

“What if there was another option?” She raises her brows, her head tilted as she waits for him to continue. 

“I mean– fuck, everything about us was a little sideways– wasn’t it? Even that first time at that bar…” He trails off and she can feel heat rising in her cheeks, remembering that night all those months ago. She shakes her head of the memory, focusing back on him.

“What are you saying, Steve?” He huffs, eyes scrunching shut before looking back at her, wetting his lips with the quick pink of his tongue.

“I’m saying– I’m saying I’d give anything to start over with you– to do it right.” She sighs, a deep frown settling across her face.

“Steve, you’re asking a lot of me.” He shakes his head, hand clenching against the wheel where it’s draped.

“I know– fuck, I know– but, losing you– it-it woke me up. I’m still fucked up– I won’t lie to you– but for the first time in a long time, I’m awake. I just want you to have me awake.” She opens her mouth, but promptly shuts it, unsure of what she really wants to say. She can see the pooling tears in his lashes in the dim light of the garage.

“You can’t hurt me like that again, Steve. I think I’d really break.” His face crumples as he takes a shuddering breath.

“I know– I’m so sorry. You don’t owe me shit– but if you gave me another chance– I promise you I’d– I’d rather die than treat you like that.” She huffs.

“Well if you do treat me like that again, I think I’ll have to kill you anyways.” The crooked grin she offers him sends them both into a clipped laugh, silence quickly consuming it. Steve is the first to speak.

“So, what does all this mean?” She shifts in her seat to fully look at him, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It means we’re gonna take this slow. A whole lot slower than before. You’re gonna drive me back to my dorm and you’re gonna ask me out on our first date and I’m gonna say yes. And maybe I’ll let you kiss my cheek.” There it is, that big, bright smile of his that makes her heart roll over in her chest. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Ok, um– slow is good, yeah. Whatever you want.” She grins, bringing her hand over his atop the steering wheel.

“Well, I can tell you what I don’t want. Thomas fucking Klein.” Steve laughs so hard he snorts, a sound she had never heard before, a sound she never wants to stop hearing.

She lets him kiss her cheek.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Cry Wolf (m, cold)

Buckle up, y’all, it’s 5k words of ~pure drama~. Lmao, but for real this one is long, dramatic, and a little snz-light (apologies). Also, there isn’t a sneeze until like 2500 words in (oops). Greyson fakes a cold to try to get out of trouble with Elijah, and is instant-karma’d, as one would hope lol. It’s a little more flowery, there’s a lot of snarky dialogue and inner monologuing... idk. I like this one, even though it’s not super snz-heavy. I hope you guys do, too. Let me know what you think :) 

cw: male, cold, coughing, fever

Cry Wolf

“Not to be dramatic, but that sounds like literally the worst event on planet earth and I think I would rather be entirely consumed in flames than do it.”

Elijah turned around slowly in his chair and gave Greyson an incredulous look. “‘Not to be dramatic’? What would being dramatic sound like if not that?”

Greyson shrugged and reached around his boss to click out of the email displaying the event details. “Probably me saying, ‘If you make me do that event, I will cut off my own arms and legs and feed them to you’,” he said, sliding back into his own rolling chair. “But that seemed a bit much, even for me.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit much,” Elijah said, grabbing his mouse back and reopening the email. “Consumed in flames is so much more chill.”

“Agreed.”

Elijah snorted. “Grey, I’m sorry but this isn’t an event we can turn down. I know it’s a lot of work, but the press it gets is unparalleled.”

Greyson groaned and threw his head back theatrically. “Liiiiiij,” he moaned, “c’mon, dude. A ten-course dinner for a bunch of blowhard millionaires throwing pocket change at kids with cancer? Seriously? It sounds like my literal definition of hell. Plus, you know anytime I step into one of those stuffy, soulless banquet halls I break out in hives.”

“Genuinely, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, I have never met anyone as dramatic as you are. And I have a twelve-year-old niece, so that’s saying something,” Elijah said, placing a faux-caring hand on Greyson’s arm. The chef shook it off, annoyed, and Elijah laughed. “Grey, I get that the people who pay to go to these things are assholes, but it really is a good cause. Plus, the American Pediatric Cancer Society seriously has the crème de la crème of social media teams. They promote you for months before and after the event.”

Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing. “Creme de la crème?” he asked. “Seriously?”

“Oh, fuck you, Chef.” Elijah said, shaking his head. “You’re doing the damn event. Get used to it.”

***

“Chef?”

Elijah looked around the corner, behind the line, and in the prep kitchen, but Greyson was nowhere to be found.

“Greyson!” Elijah called, pushing through the swinging doors to the dining room, and running directly into the chef, who was innocently making coffee in the server’s station.

“Yes…?” Greyson asked, putting a lid on his coffee and making his way past Elijah, back into the kitchen. The GM followed behind him, annoyed.

“Have you ordered anything for the dinner this Friday yet?”

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were closed Friday?”

Elijah gave Greyson a look of complete exasperation. “Yes, we’re closed, Grey, but you remember why we’re closed, right?”

“Uh…” Greyson said, eyes darting towards the calendar. “...winter break for the staff?”

Elijah pursed his lips and closed his eyes; he took a deep breath, pressed his hands together, and readdressed the chef in an entirely too-calm tone. “Greyson. No. Not winter break for the staff.”

Greyson rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “You’re… out of town?”

“The cancer awareness dinner, Greyson, oh my fucking god,” Elijah slapped a hand on the desk beside them and Greyson cringed. “How could you forget this? The fuck is your problem? We’ve had it on the calendar for months.”

“Dude, I’m really sorry, it just slipped my mind! I’ll be ready, it’s only Monday, this shindig is in four days, I’ll order the stuff now,” Greyson said. He turned towards the desk and started rummaging through the mess of papers by his computer, before looking up at Elijah again, guiltily. “...did we send them a menu?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Greyson, yes we sent them a menu in September. Seriously, are you okay? How in the ever-living fuck could you forget such a huge event? I know you don’t want to do it, but fuck, Greyson, this is my restaurant and my reputation on the line!” Elijah couldn’t seem to ebb the anger now that it had started flowing. He slammed himself into his chair and pounded the computer keys until a PDF popped up – the menu they’d had approved three months earlier. Greyson visibly shrunk back.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I… now I remember. Shit, Lij, I’m so sorry, man.”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and pressed his fingers into his eyes before addressing the chef. “I’m asking in earnest this time,” he said, his voice small and controlled. “Are. You. Okay. Because you never forget shit like this.”

In hindsight, Greyson knew he shouldn’t have said it; he should’ve told Elijah that he’d put the dinner out of his head the moment he’d halfheartedly slapped together a menu and hoped that Elijah would do the same. He should’ve said that he’d hoped Matt would want to take it over, even though he knew Elijah would never let the sous chef take care of such a high-touch dinner. He should’ve said fucking aliens had abducted him and stolen that one piece of information from his mind, for fuck’s sake, anything other than what actually came out of his mouth.

“Actually, I uh… I haven’t been feeling great. Maybe I’m like, coming down with something?”

In what universe, a tiny voice in Greyson’s head whispered, is this a good idea?

Elijah’s face softened at the false admission. “Shit, Greyson, really? Why didn’t you tell me? What’s wrong?”

Greyson felt the guilt pool in his stomach the moment Elijah’s voice turned to one of concern. Shit. “Uh, I mean, it’s probably nothing. Just like a, uh…sore throat and headache. Just not feeling 100% myself. I’ll be good, just, y’know… a little foggy. But I promise, I’ll order the stuff now and make sure I have cooks for this weekend, okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to forget.” At least only half of that was a lie, Greyson thought to himself, grimacing. He and Elijah never lied to each other – as a rule.

Elijah sighed. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he said, “and I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. Did you take something?” Greyson nodded, the guilt pool in his gut growing larger. “Okay,” Elijah said. “Just… I mean, let me know if it gets worse, okay? Take it easy today. I’ll close the books.”

Greyson nodded as his boss stood and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, a swallow that probably looked painful, and Elijah winced in sympathy. You fucking asshole, Greyson chastised himself. “I’m good, boss. Thanks, though.”

Elijah gave the chef a small smile and headed out to the dining room to talk to the host. Greyson let out a little ‘fuck’ and sat down to call purveyors. Why would he say that? If there was one thing Elijah was sympathetic of, it was illness. Greyson had essentially phoned in sympathy points because he didn’t want to be yelled at. What was he, a child?

Greyson tried to shake it off; maybe Elijah would forget the fake-sickness in lieu of the big event this weekend. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal at all. The chef put his head down and called the first purveyor, made an excel sheet, began preparing for the dinner he desperately did not want to do.

He was so wrapped up in preparations, he didn’t see Elijah sneak in to the office; didn’t see him stealthily switch out his coffee cup, or leave just as quick as he’d come in. He didn’t notice until he lifted the cup, took a big swig – and swallowed down a hard lump of guilt with the lemon tea Elijah had brought him. Oh, fuck, Greyson thought, placing his head in his hand. This is not going to end well.

***

The shift felt long.

“Get some rest, okay?” Elijah said to Greyson as the chef packed up his bag. “We need you at 100% for Friday.”

Greyson nodded, somber, and hiked his backpack onto his back. “You got it, boss,” he said; he’d been a man of very few words tonight, which didn’t help the long shift feel any shorter. “I’ll be all good tomorrow. Promise.”

Elijah gave his friend a small smile and nodded back. “See you in the morning,” he said, and Greyson gave a wave behind his head as he walked out the door. Once the chef was out of earshot, Elijah sighed.

He wouldn’t deny the fact that he was worried. Greyson was the king of pushing through illness, but he had a tendency to push himself too hard too quickly, and end up absolutely destroyed a few days into whatever ailment he was fighting. Elijah wanted to make sure that didn’t happen this time; all day, he’d tried to keep Greyson seated if possible, to keep him hydrated, to bring him lozenges and Dayquil and make him ingest them. Care-taking was far from his strong suit, but today he’d really tried; not only to keep Greyson from careening into a worse illness, but to make up for the fact that he’d yelled at him. That had been uncalled for, and he felt like an ass.

An hour or so after the kitchen staff had departed, the final server closed out her check and brought Elijah her paperwork. He finished filling everything out, filed the daily report, and shut off the harsh kitchen light. As he waved the last server goodbye, he found himself thinking, I need a drink. It wasn’t something he did often, but occasionally he’d stop by the club three doors down for a beer and the possibility of spending the night with a real person instead of a glass of whiskey and late-night talk shows. Tonight, when he didn’t have the option of grabbing a burger with Greyson – his only real friend, if he was being honest – at the dive bar, felt like a perfect night to scout for some booze and a warm body to fall asleep next to.

Elijah pulled his jacket on, locked the back door of the restaurant, and set out for the club. The air was frigid this evening; he huddled further into his jacket and upped his pace, reaching the front door of Zed in record-time. He was practically salivating at the thought of a neat whiskey as he yanked open the heavy door – fuck the beer. Let’s get right to the good stuff.

The club was full, but not packed, and Elijah managed to get a seat at the bar – rare here, especially since the club’s bar was tiny by design. They wanted you on the dance floor, mingling, sweating, working up a thirst for another, and another, and -

“Can I get another double Maker’s?” Elijah’s ears perked up at the sound of someone ordering over his head; if there was one voice he knew for certain, it was that one. The GM turned slowly around and to his left – oh, you mother fucker.

“Greyson?” Elijah called over the thump of electronic music. From about a yard away, Greyson’s  head snapped around, searching for the voice that said his name. When he and Elijah locked eyes, Elijah noticed he was sweating and panting – and certainly not from any feigned fever.

“Oh… fuck,” Greyson said, obviously too drunk to realize how loud he was being. “Oh, shit. Fuck. Lij, I -”

Elijah shook his head. “I see you’re… feeling better,” he called over the heads of the people seated next to him. “Asshole.”

Greyson couldn’t seem to form words after that, and the bartender interrupted him anyway by placing a full glass of whiskey on the bartop. “Name on the card?” the bartender asked. Before Greyson could answer, Elijah called out to the bartender.

“Put it on me,” he said, and the bartender nodded before moving to help another guest. Greyson stood, seemingly stuck in place, before taking a tentative step towards his boss. Elijah put a hand up, as though to say stop right there. “No need to thank me, chef,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Enjoy your… medicine.”

Elijah slapped a fifty on the bartop in front of him. He drained his whiskey, slammed down the glass, and breezed past Greyson, his face flaming with embarrassment. What an ass he was, not realizing he’d been played. What a complete moron.

“Elijah, wait -” he heard Greyson call behind him – but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Without looking back, Elijah pushed open the door and immediately hailed a cab outside. When Greyson finally made it past the throngs of people and into the street, Elijah was long gone.

***

To say the next few days were awkward would be the understatement of the century.

The morning after the club, Greyson had barreled into the office, spewing apology after apology before Elijah could even say hello. The GM had accepted, albeit coldly, and hadn’t mentioned it for the remainder of the day. He hadn’t mentioned much of anything, truly, and when the shift ended Elijah walked out without saying goodbye, leaving Mark to close the restaurant down.

“What did you do?” Mark had asked Greyson when their boss had departed. Greyson just shook his head.

“I fucked up,” he said. Mark snorted.

“Clearly.”

The next day had continued in the same fashion; Elijah giving Greyson the cold shoulder, Greyson attempting to apologize in every way he could think of. They barely spoke Thursday, as well – and by then, Greyson was starting to worry that they’d never speak again.

“He’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Mark promised when Elijah walked out for the third night in a row without saying goodbye. “He can only hold a grudge for seventy-two hours, max.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. He’d never seen Elijah this mad before, not even when Greyson had fucked up and only bought two tenderloins for a party that requested nothing but steak in his first month of working together. Plus, Greyson was dealing with a bit of a sticky situation – a situation that he was sure would make Elijah ten times angrier at him. A situation that literally could not have arisen at a worse time.

“Hhh...hhNGTSH-zue! HTSHH-ue! NGTZSHUE!”

“Bless,” Mark said, distractedly, his eyes trained on the computer monitor in front of him. “You feeling okay?”

He wasn’t. He’d woken up that morning with his throat sticky, and his head pounding. Instant karma, he’d thought as he chugged tea in place of his usual coffee. When he remembered the tea Elijah made for him a few days before – a gentle kindness, a peace offering, a showing of care for someone who’d blatantly lied to his face – his stomach soured. Greyson had dumped the tea down the drain and forced himself to chug an energy drink instead; the bubbles made him cough until his ribs were sore.

“I’m good,” Greyson said, stealthily managing to keep the congestion out of his voice. “Allergies.”

Mark turned to the chef, an eyebrow raised. “It’s December,” he said.

“Right,” Greyson answered, though it wasn’t an answer at all. “Yeah, it is.”

The event was tomorrow; Elijah had spoken to Greyson long enough to remind him that they needed to be in the van by three PM for a six PM call time at the banquet hall. Greyson had said he knew, had said he’d be in at ten to get everything finished and packed and make sure Matt was well-versed on their menu, as he was the second set of hands Greyson would need to plate up. Elijah had nodded, obviously done with the conversation, and that had been that.

“Alright, Chef, I’m out of here,” Mark said, snapping Greyson back to reality. “You need anything before I go?”

Greyson shook his head. “Thangks, Mark,” he said, internally cursing the congestion that had wormed its way into his voice. Mark pursed his lips.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get some sleep, Chef.”

A parroting of Elijah’s sentiment at the beginning of the week; a mockery. One that Greyson most certainly deserved.

***

When Elijah got in the morning of the event, Greyson was already in the prep kitchen tightly wrapping his food for the evening and briefing Matt on the menu. The GM sighed; it was finally time.

“Chef,” Elijah said, knocking politely on the wall. Matt and Greyson looked up, surprised, and gave their boss matching smiles.

“Morning, boss,” Greyson said, his voice low. Something seemed… off, but Elijah couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I just wanted to say, I accept your apology,” Elijah said. “Thanks for letting me sulk the past few days.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Thanks, boss,” he said, simply. “I appreciate it. Sorry againd.”

Elijah nodded back and made his way towards the dining room to begin packing up dishware for the dinner. Something was weird about Greyson today; he’d really expected a bit more fanfare when he’d announced his acceptance. A bit more gushing, maybe a signature Greyson pick-you-up-off-the-ground hug – but he got none of it. If anything, Greyson seemed more reserved than Elijah had been in the days leading up to the dinner. Maybe he was angry that Elijah had held the grudge for so long – though that didn’t seem like Greyson in the slightest.

He decided to drop it; most likely, he was putting weight on a situation that required none. Elijah finished packing the dishes into milk crates, and headed back into the kitchen to ask Greyson and Matt for help loading them in the van.

“Grey?” Elijah called into the kitchen. “Matt? Can you guys come give me a ha -”

“HNGTSSHHH-ue! HTSHZUE! NGTSH! Huh-! Huhh...HUHESTZHUE!”

He wasn’t cut off, because Greyson clearly hadn’t heard him speaking before unleashing a seemingly-unending volley of sneezes. Elijah’s heart first sunk deep into the pit that was his stomach – and then his face flamed with an anger he hadn’t expected.

“Oh, you’re shitting me,” he muttered, stomping his way into the back kitchen. “You are absolutely fucking kidding.”

Greyson, who was posted up at the sink blowing his nose, nearly jumped when he saw Elijah storm into the prep kitchen. “Christ,” he said, trying to nonchalantly throw the paper towel he was holding away, “give a guy a heart attack.”

“Is this some kind of joke to you, Greyson?” Elijah asked, crossing his arms. Greyson sniffled, rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for Elijah to continue his diatribe.

“Is… what a joke?” Greyson asked when he realized he wasn’t getting any more context clues from his boss. Elijah huffed out an angry laugh.

“You’re trying to fuck with me. Right? You’re trying to make me look like an ass, see if I’ll once again feed into your weird little game.” Elijah was practically snorting with anger; he couldn’t help it. Fool me once, and all that.

“Lij,” Greyson said, holding his hands up as though to surrender, “I… I don’t kndow what you’re talking about.” Elijah laughed – a mean, ringing sound.

“I get it; you’re making a point. You don’t want to do this event and you never have. Well, Greyson, it’s too fucking late now, so just stop. I’m not in the mood for whatever fucking ruse you and your little minion have up your sleeves. So get rid of whatever it is you’re using to make yourself sneeze – we get it, ha ha, Elijah’s a moron, so goddamn funny – and cut it out. In fact, hand it over. Clearly you’re too much of a fucking child to know when enough is enough.” Elijah held out his hand, waiting on Greyson or Matt to fess up and slap a pepper mill or something into his hand, but neither of them stirred. After an awkward moment of the three of them standing, all waiting for something to happen, Matt cleared his throat.

“Um…” he said, “I… I don’t know what’s going on here, but we don’t, like… have anything.”

Elijah threw the sous chef a dirty look, then looked back to Greyson. “You’ve got him trained well,” he said, not giving it up. Greyson opened his mouth to say something, but his face collapsed before the words could make it to his mouth. He crumpled to the side and used an elbow to cover his mouth.

“HRRTSHH-uh! Huh...huhhNGTSHH-ue! ITZSCHUE! Huh! Hhh…” Greyson didn’t allow himself the luxury of waiting on the last sneeze to make its appearance; instead, he pinched his nose to ebb the fit and coughed into his palm – a hacking, congested sound. Elijah’s anger dried as quickly as rain in the Sahara desert – oh, fuck.

“Oh… fuck,” Elijah muttered as Greyson grabbed another handful of paper towels to blow his nose into. “You’re… you’re not actually sick, are you?”

Matt started to answer for him, but Greyson cut his sous off. “Ndo,” he said, curtly. “Allergies or sombething. Ndot tryigg to fuck with you. Sorry, Lij.” He finished with another painful-sounding cough, while behind him Matt shook his head, eyes wide; a silent miming of he’s sick as a dog.

Before Elijah could say anything else, Greyson tossed the paper towels and headed out towards the dining room. “Were you sayigg you ndeed help with plates?” he asked, wiping a hand under his nose and swallowing painfully. Elijah, unsure of how to handle this situation, simply deflated, a balloon in the harsh summer sun.

“Um. Yes,” he said, following behind Greyson. “Yeah, I… help would be great.”

Greyson nodded, turned, and headed to grab the plates. Elijah held back, and turned to Matt.

“He actually has a cold now, doesn’t he?” he asked, though it was soft enough to not know if it was to Matt or himself. Matt shook his head.

“No,” he said, giving Elijah a disapproving look. “It’s definitely not a cold.”

With that, the sous followed behind his boss, side chosen – leaving Elijah standing stalwart in the back of the kitchen. This, he thought to himself, is not going to end well.

***

If he was being honest, Greyson wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this dinner.

At the beginning of the day, he’d been fairly sure he could hold it together; sure, his throat was on fire, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Yes, he was stuffed up to the gills and every little movement triggered another sneeze fit. But he hadn’t had a fever, and he’d been plying himself with cold meds, so everything had been fine.

...that is, until the Elijah-explosion.

Things had gone downhill quickly after Elijah’s screaming fit. Greyson started attempting to hold back all of his sneezes and coughs, resulting in a headache that made his eyes feel like two swollen golf balls lodged inside a too-small head. He’d stopped pounding ibuprofen, cough syrup, and dayquil after Elijah’s freak-out, too; didn’t want to seem like he was egging his boss on. Now that they had arrived at the event, he had a new problem: it was incredibly difficult to medicate in a banquet hall filled with stuffy, old assholes.

“Mbatt, is that everythi – NGTSH! TSH! HTSH! Huh - ! HRSSH-uhh!” Greyson tried desperately to hold back yet another string of sneezes, to no avail. Whatever shit he’d picked up was persistent; persistent and fucking annoying.

“Yes, Chef,” Matt said, giving his boss a pointed look. Greyson meant to return the look, but instead sunk down below their prep station to cough into his sleeve. From the ground, he heard Matt sigh – then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bottle of cough syrup in his sous’ hand. Without thinking, Greyson snatched it and chugged.

“Chef,” Matt said, quietly, “we’re all set here. Just waiting on people to arrive – why don’t you go have a cigarette or something?”

The last thing Greyson wanted with this bitch of a cough was a cigarette, but he nodded anyway; he knew Matt. He knew what he meant was go outside and collect yourself, you’re in for a long night.

“Thanks,” Greyson muttered, standing. “I’ll be back ind ten.”

“Take your time,” Matt insisted.

Greyson stumbled out of the building, clutching his chef’s coat close to his body; he’d left his jacket in the car, but he desperately needed some air. Fortunately or unfortunately, he’d already caught his death; no need to worry about the cold infecting him further.

Whether it was luck or just the fact that it was too cold for anyone else to dare venture outside, he couldn’t be sure, but either way he was glad to see that no one else was in the courtyard when he pushed through the heavy banquet doors. Greyson sat heavily on a bench arms wrapped around his middle, and took a few deep breaths. On second thought, he found himself thinking, maybe a cigarette does sound nice.

The chef pulled his pack and lighter out of his jeans and brought the cigarette to his mouth with a shaking hand. It took a few clicks to light it; once it was finally lit, he only got one good pull before he heard the door open noisily behind him.

“Are you seriously smoking?”

Elijah.

Greyson turned around, sluggish, and gave his boss a coy you-caught-me smile. “Addiction’s a hell of a thigg,” he said, turning to cough once again. “You wandt one?”

Elijah sighed, clearly thinking twice, but ultimately nodded and sat next to Greyson. The chef handed him the pack and the lighter.

“If you wandt it today, trust mbe you don’t wandt mbe lighting it,” Greyson joked, holding up a shaking hand as proof. Elijah bit his cheek, then slid out of his heavy outer coat and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Greyson went to protest, but Elijah held up his hand.

“You need it,” he said, taking the lighter and producing a flame immediately. “Just as much as you don’t need that,” he pointed to the stick between his friend’s fingers, but didn’t go to grab it.

“Yeah,” Greyson said, “you’re probably right.”

They sat in an awkward silence after that, punctuated only by Greyson’s coughs and sniffles; a game of chicken neither of them seemed keen on losing. Finally, Elijah finished his cigarette and stomped it out beneath his foot. He stood, and turned to regard Greyson.

“Thank you,” he said, holding out a hand. Greyson gave his boss a look, then took his hand and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.

“Dond’t mbention it,” Greyson said, sniffling. He tried to hold the eye contact Elijah was giving him, but his nose seemed to have other plans. “Huh! HuhhhETSHHZUE!” Greyson sneezed, hard, into the sleeve of Elijah’s coat, then groaned when he realized what he’d done.

“Bless,” Elijah said, apparently unfazed by the coat’s untimely demise. Greyson nodded, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and sniffled. “Grey, I’m -”

“Please dond’t say it,” Greyson said, holding a hand up. “Please. I’mb the boy who cried wolf, y’kndow? Instant karma. I did this to mbyself.” He rubbed a tired eye, attempted a light cough, then dissolved into a full-on coughing fit.

“Christ, Greyson,” Elijah said, patting the chef on the back. “That sounds fucking awful.”

“Weird,” Greyson said once he’d composed himself. “Because it honestly feel ambazigg.”

“Seriously?”

“Ndo. Ndo, I feel like I’mb going to keel over at any second.”

Elijah couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. Greyson laughed, too; tension broken. They caught each other’s eyes, and burst out laughing once again; friends once more.

“I’m sorry you’re sick,” Elijah said. “And I’m sorry about this event. You’re right; these people suck ass.”

“Mbost people do,” Greyson said, chuckling. “I’mb sorry for being such a dick about this dinner, though. And forgetting. And pretending to be sick.”

“And then actually getting sick,” Elijah finished for him. Greyson smiled.

“And that,” he said. Elijah shrugged, gave a short little laugh.

“Very typical ‘us’,” he said, looking through the window into the banquet hall. Greyson nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing. “You ready to get this shit over with?”

Elijah smiled. “Yes, Chef,” he said. Greyson laughed, which dissolved once more into a crackly cough. “Then let’s get you to bed.”

Greyson nodded, a hand pressed into one of his aching eyes. “Boss,” he said, “You read mby mbind.”

The two men headed back inside and took their places. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d do an event with one of them on the brink of death, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last; that was the way of this industry. Greyson sucked down some more cold medicine, Elijah fixed the table settings, and Matt gleaned that all had somehow been forgiven and visibly relaxed. Just another night. The show must go on.

#snz #snzfic #sickfic #coldfic #male snz #male sneeze #whiskeyswriting #sick #coughing #illness #if you made it to the end of this behemoth i bestow upon you all the gratefulness in my heart and a single gold star

[yelenasdiary]

Enough || Part III

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Is it possible for you to give Wanda another chance or will it cause more damage than good?

18+ MINORS DNI! – I am NOT responsible for the content you consume online. I’ve provided warnings, if you refuse to acknowledge them, this is at your own risk. 

| Angst, Fluff & Smut | 3.1K | Mentions of drinking and sex | Light language | Fingering (R receiving), Nipple play, (both receiving), thigh riding, Mommy kink |

Translation: miláčik (darling), srdiečko (sweetheart), dievčatko (baby girl), princezná (princess)

Key: e/c (eye colour)

AC: I love how this wasn’t intended to have a part 2 and now it’s got a part 3. Also, please bear with me Sokovia was bordered by Slovakia so Wanda speaks Slovakian in this.  Enjoy! (this better not get me banned lmao)

“What do you want, baby?” Wanda asked, repeating the same words you asked her months ago. Still speechless your mind running with many different thoughts. Her eyes looked hopefully for a positive answer, but your mind was clouded with what ifs. 

“I…. if you…I…Wanda” you stuttered trying to piece together your words, “I ca... I won’t be able to cope if you break my heart again. Everything you’re saying right now is just words and I was always told that actions speak louder than words” 

“Give me a little time to show you, please…please don’t leave…if you go” her eyes built up with tears as you slowly pulled your hands out of her hold. “Y/n, I can’t lose you again” 

Cold silence filled the room once again, this time you thought about things differently and wondered if giving her this once chance might be okay or would it ruin you even more. The hurt in her eyes gave you the same hurtful feeling you felt 7 months ago when she walked out the door, could you find it within yourself to do the same? Leave her with the broken heart to fix like she did to you? No, never. 

“One chance” you spoke ever so softly, “Once chance Wanda, it’s all I can give you…” you added. 

Wanda smiled lightly; her eyes showed a faint sparkle at your words. “Once chance” she repeated with a nod showing she understood that if she ruined this again, you’d never give her another. 

“I should go…I have some things to sort out” you made the excuse, wanting to give yourself time to think and really be sure this was a good idea. “Yeah, sure” Wanda walked you to the door, “Y/n” she spoke as you walked out. You turned around and were met with her big green eyes once again, “I meant what I said…I will give you my all”.

A soft smile tugged on the corner of your lips before you left.

----

For a few weeks, Wanda took things slowly. She left mugs of hot coffee at your medical station every morning just moments before you arrived, so it was still hot. Then on your lunch break every second day she brought you over some lunch she’d make for you along with the two of you smiling at each other in passing. 

Things eventually turned into more public affection. When the team had game night or a relaxing night with popcorn and movies Wanda would always invite you. She’d drape an arm around you when nobody was paying attention and every time she did so, you snuggled closer to her to soak up her body warm that would keep you warm in the winter. Soon you found yourself in her room some nights with take-out and card games and watching sitcoms together while cuddled up in her bed. 

It would be a lie to say that you weren’t falling for her all over again although this time definitely felt different. A wave of love rushed through your body when she whispered sweet nothings to you while watching movies. You feel a sense of change deep within Wanda’s heart, but her eyes still begged for forgiveness. 

“Wands”

“Yes miláčik?” she replied twirling a lock of your hair as your head rested on her shoulder. You loved when she spoke Slovakian, you missed it. She used to only speak it when you’d spent the night in her bed.

“Tony is holding another one of his parties and I wanted to know if maybe you’d come…with me?” you asked slowly lifting your heard to look at her. 

“Are you sure? I want to of course but are you sure you want to take that step?” she looked into your eyes as you nodded. “I think we will be fine” you softly smiled. 

“Well then, of course I will come with you” Wanda replied with a kissed on the top of your head. 

----

You weren’t nervous about Tony’s party, but you could tell Wanda was. The two of you had been enjoying things as they were, just the two of you and her team working out that both of you were working things out together. 

“You’re nervous” you watched Wanda put on her boots on. 

“Not when I have you by my side” Wanda smiled up at you, “come on, we’ll be late” she added before grabbing her phone. 

The party was crowded, no surprises there. You, Wanda, Natasha, Clint, and Thor stood together as a group, drinking your drinks, and laughing at Thor’s best Tony impression. Wanda slightly stood behind you with one arm around your waist, every now and then she’d whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked and how lucky she was to be here with you. 

Everything was swell before Nat, Clint and Thor left you and Wanda alone for a while. 

“Wanda? Oh my god! Wanda! Hi!” a young dark hair woman stopped in her tracks, she was beautiful and no doubt Wanda’s type. Wanda looked at her confused as if she didn’t know who she was. “It’s me” the woman smiled, “It’s Charlotte” Wanda still looked confused, “we met at Tony’s last party? I was work the bar” the woman added, your heart sunk once Wanda realised who she was. 

“Oh, Charlotte, hi…uhm, how have you been?” Wanda asked with a fake smile. 

“I’m good! It’s been how long? Agh, I had so much fun that night” she smirked making you roll your eyes and slightly shake of your head. Wanda felt you move slightly away from her; her eyes look at you with a look of sorry written over her face. “Uh, yeah, it was a good night” Wanda replied in an uncomfortable tone. 

Charlotte lent in towards Wanda’s right hear and whispered something you couldn’t hear, the sound of plastic hitting the floor caught your attention. Your eyes dropped and saw a hotel key, Wanda’s eyes burned into you as Charlotte pulled away. “Oops! I’m always dropping things” Charlotte quickly covered up her sly attempt to hand Wanda the space hotel key.

 “Y/n, srdiečko, let’s go. I think we could use a refill” Wanda reached for you which you ignored. 

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t aware you were here with somebody” Charlotte played off. 

“I was literally standing next to Wanda but sure” you mumbled. Charlotte threw you a glare at your sarcasm. 

“Y/n, please, let’s just go” Wanda’s hand still reached out for you, “please” she mouthed. 

“I mean…if she’s not interest Wanda”

“Shut the hell up!” Wanda snapped at Charlotte giving her a glare that almost made her eyes flash red. To avoid a scene you grabbed Wanda’s hand, “let’s just go Wands” you looked at her. 

Wanda gently led the two of you out of the party, to the cold hall just outside the room. “This is why I was nervous” Wanda starts.

“Why? Because there’s a handful of people you’ve slept with here?” you snapped. 

“I know what it looks like, Y/n” 

“You do? Good because I didn’t want to have to ask you if you slept with her the night, you turned your back on us!” anger filled your body as you recalled the night many months ago. “Did you serious sleep with her after I told you I loved you?!” tears filled your e/c eyes. 

“No! I swear I didn’t! After I left that night…I got drunk, we had a few drinks, and she made a move, but I left. Nothing happened after that. We kissed and that was it” Wanda tried to explain. 

“I knew this was a bad idea! I knew I should’ve just left!” you mumbled to yourself, taking a few steps away from Wanda. 

“Y/n, please…don’t say that. We’ve been good recently, right? please don’t say this was a mistake” 

“Wanda how can I believe you? She literally tried to give you her hotel key, right in front of me may I add” you turned to look at her once again. 

“I was stupid, yes! But I’m not that low”

“What did she whisper to you?” 

Wanda shook her head, “It doesn’t matter” 

“What did she whisper Wanda? I want to know” crossing your arms over your chest. Wanda sighed, “she just said – “

“Word for Word” you cut her off. 

“I miss the chats we shared and laughs we made. I came here hoping you’d be here, I’m still open for a night of fun if you are” Wanda looked you in the eyes as she repeated word for word, “then she tried to slide me her hotel key” she added. 

“Is this what it’s going to be like? We’re at the mall and we run into another one of your one-night stands? Somebody you didn’t call back? People who want to repeat such a magical night with you?” uncrossing your arms and brushing your hair back behind your ear, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that when I said I’d give you another chance…and now I just- “

“Don’t say it…baby, please. Just forget about them, they mean nothing to me. You know this” Wanda stepped closer to you, her hands reaching for your hips. “I know I haven’t made things easy with this…I know we might get looks and whispers but honestly, let them. Let them whisper, let them look, let them run either mouth, let them be jealous that it’s you that I’ve fallen in love with” Wanda took the last step closer to you. Her hands rested on your hips; tear drops fell from your cheek. 

“You…you said you liked me” your mind replayed the moment weeks ago when Wanda confessed, she liked you. Wanda nodded, “I did but I’ve realised that losing you and the thought of not seeing you anymore is a reality I don’t want, and I think about you all the time” she caused a smile to from on your lips, “dievčatko, I think about you every night before a fall asleep and your still on my mind when I wake up. Seeing you even just for a moment makes my heart skip a beat, I think that means I love you” Wanda added. 

Any anger you had slowly faded away the longer you looked into her eyes. “You mean that?” you asked her, you just wanted to hear her say it again. 

“I do” she placed a kiss on your forehead, “I love you Y/n” she looked back into your eyes. Not giving it a second thought, your lips met hers for the first time in a long time. You pulled her closer as she deepened the kiss, holding you a little tighter at your hips. 

Only pulling away for air, you whispered against her lips, “let them talk, right?” 

“That’s right, let them talk baby” she kissed you once again. 

----

It was a little hard for the first few months when Wanda and you decided to make things official, going out for date night sometimes would be interrupted with a random person you’ve never seen before but they knew Wanda. She was nice to them but always kept the interactions short and sweet, always assuring to intro you to them. 

“This is my girlfriend, Y/n” always made you flush, and Wanda knew it, she saw the red that filled your cheeks, and she took pride in that. Any chance she got; she showed you off as her partner. One days where she wasn’t doing Avenger stuff, you’d find her and you in her bed cuddling or outside taking long walks. Most of your nights were spent with Wanda, she held you protectively as you’d fall asleep in her arms. She cooked for you, she continued to bring you coffee and lunch, she waited for you at the end of each shift as you would wait for her at the helipad whenever she would return from missions. 

Wanda just returned from a two-month mission, a wide smile on her lips the moment she saw you waiting. 

“Hi baby” you smiled, pulling her in for a long passionate kiss. 

“Mmm” she hummed, “Hi dievčatko” she smiled against your lips before kissing you once more. Wrapping her arms around you tightly. “God, I missed you and that accent” you giggled when she picked you and spun you around, “I missed you so much, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call” she placed you back on your feet. “Don’t worry, I knew if something was wrong, I’d somehow find out” you stroked her cheeks with both hands, “you need a shower” you pointed out, wiping a speck of dirty from under her left eye. “Want to join me?” she whispered. You nodded; your bottom lip caught between your teeth. 

----

Steam from the shower filled the Wanda’s bathroom as warm water ran over your naked bodies. The heated make out season only added to the steam fogging the mirror above the sink. 

“I hated leaving you” Wanda said as her lips moved to your neck, her hands running down your ribs to your hips. “I know, baby” you threw your head back gently against the wall to give her more access to your neck. Wanda left serval visible marks, soft moans left your lips when she toyed with your nipples, “Wands” you moaned when she pinched a little harder. Her lips latched onto your left nipple, your right hand resting on Wanda’s wet hair while you moaned once more. Releasing with a pop she returned the same attention to your right breast, her left hand creeping up your thigh. 

“Is it because of the shower or me?” she smirked after releasing your right breast from her lips. 

“Shut up” you playful shook your head pulling her back to your lips, another moan left your lips when Wanda rested her forehead against yours and moving her right thigh between your legs. “Cum on my thigh” she whispered before kissing your lips once more, her right hand lifting your left leg up slightly. You start rubbing yourself against her thigh slowly, moan more when she returned to leaving kisses on your neck. Eventually moving faster, one hand placed on the wall and the other pressed against the glass wall of the shower to keep your balance. Wanda’s hand squeezed your butt tightly as she helped guide you to move faster. 

“Harder” you huffed in a moan, her high rubbing your clit in the right stop to throw your head back once more. Wanda applied a little more pressure to her hold on you as you sped up the speed. “I’m gonna cum baby, fuck!” 

“Go on srdiečko” Wanda smirked. 

Hearing her accent cut the coil in your stomach, Cumming on her thigh with her name leaving from your lip’s serval times. Wanda held you up as you came down from your high, crashing your lips back on your hers once you were stable again. 

Your hands roamed her body like she did yours, caressing her breasts causing her to moan. “Baby don’t tease me today, please” she begged, “I’ve missed you” she adds was your lips worked down to her chest, taking her right nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around her harden bud. “That’s a good girl” Wanda moaned; her head thrown back as you pleasured her nipples. 

The two of you forgetting about the running water as your lips travelled further down her body before you rested yourself on your knees. “Look at me princezná” Wanda spoke before you kissed the inside of her thighs. You looked up at her, water droplets covered both of your faces.

“If you’re a good girl and make mommy cum, I’ll let you ride my fingers, okay?” she spoke. 

“Yes mommy” you nodded. 

“Go on baby, give mommy what she needs” Wanda smirked before spreading her lips wider for you. Gently you placed her right leg over your shoulder, leaving kisses on the inside of her thigh before licking one strip up through her folds where she needed you the most. 

“That’s it baby” she moaned once she felt you leave kisses on her outer lips before paying extra attention to her clit. Wanda used one hand to keep her steady while her other hand found your head and slightly pushing your further into her. You parted her outer lips with your tongue to expose the inner lips, and then kissed them softly earning another loud moan from Wanda, “srdiečko, don’t tease” she groaned. 

You smirked before dipping your tongue into her wet hole a few times before licking a few more strokes through her folds. “I swear to god dieťa!” Wanda moaned pushing herself more into you, that’s when you drew circles around her clit with your tongue. “Fuck, srdiečko! Your tongue is heaven!” she moaned once more. The more moans you got from her the faster you started lapping at her. 

“Keep going srdiečko, mommy’s gonna cum!” Wanda warned which only made you apply a little more pressure to her clit. “Yes!” she almost screams as she became undone, helping her ride out her high making sure none of her juices went to waste. 

“Maybe I should go away more often” Wanda caught her breath.

“I missed you mommy” you said as you got back on your feet, Wanda crashing her lips onto you again, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips. “You really did miss mommy, didn’t you” 

“I did” you nodded, “I best give you your reward than” Wanda winked, two of her fingers running through your folds. “Did making mommy cum make you more wet, srdiečko?” she asked. Again, you nodded, “please” you whimpered. 

“You’re such a good girl, using your manners” Wanda kissed your collar bone, using your slick to cover her fingers before easing two into your needy hole. 

“Oh, srdiečko, you’re so warm” she kissed your jaw, “and tight” her lips met yours again. You held onto Wanda’s shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as she started thrusting her fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“Fuck!” you moaned when she went faster. “Mommy, you f-feel so good” your eyes rolled back to the back of your head. 

“Play with your little clit for me, srdiečko” Wanda instructed. 

You played with the bundle of nerves, moaning loudly when Wanda went slightly harder. Clenching around her fingers she knew you were close. 

“You’re close, you can cum baby” she kissed your neck once again. 

“Agh! I’m close” you didn’t quiet hear her words.

“I know, srdiečko, cum for mommy” she whispered in your ear pushing you over the edge once more. “I’ve got you” she said, slowly removing her fingers and holding you up as you returned to reality. 

Wanda helped wash you up before wrapping you in her robe and guiding you to the share bed, your body tired and worn out, not that you were complaining. 

“Go to sleep, srdiečko. I’m right here” you heard Wanda whisper before drifting off to sleep. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision #marvel #the avengers #fanfiction

[isekai-crow]

2024 Winter Anime Lineup (Master Post?)

First post for a new blog where I'm going to try and record my opinions, break downs, comparisons, and various degrees of squees about anime!

The lineup for this year's Winter isn't as packed as the 2023 Fall season was, but that's always the case. It sure is still causing my To Watch List to keep getting longer... but more importantly because it's so lacking in big name shows one of my most anticipated shows gets to shine...

SOLO LEVELING

俺だけレベルアップな件

LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!

I'M SO EXCITED FOR MY SHADOW BOY TO FINALLY ARRIVE!!!

also, holy CRAP look at all this TRADITIONAL FANTASY!!! There is even a decent selection of non harem Isekai this round too! And a lot of awesome sequels/continuations!

Anyways, here's what's on my to watch list for this season! I'll be posting about them in their own or other threads as I figure out how I want to set this blog up. My reasons for WHY I'm watching what I'm watching

Definitely Will Watch!

Solo Leveling / 俺だけレベルアップな件

Apothecary Diaries /薬屋のひとりごと(Continued)

Delicious in Dungeon (Dungeon Meshi) / ダンジョン飯

The Villains Day Off / 休日のわるものさん

Undead Unluck / アンデッドアンラック(Continued)

Fire Hunter (Hikari no Ou) 2nd Season / 火狩りの王

High Hopes / Might Drop / Taking My Time

Sasaki and Peeps / 佐々木とぴーちゃん

The Witch and the Beast / 魔女と野獣

Doctor Elise / 外科医エリゼ

Cherry Magic (THIS ENGLISH TITLE LMAO) / 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい (DEF WATCHING THIS ONE NOW)

Shangri-La Frontier / シャングリラフロンティア　(Continued)

Beyond Journey's End / 葬送のフリーレン (Continued)

Gonna Give Them A Few Episodes

Mashle Season 2

Fluffy Paradise / Isekai de Mofumofu Nadenade Suru Tame ni, Ganbattemasu (I'm doing my best in another world to pet fluffy creatures)

Ishura

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic / 治癒魔法の間違った使い方

Blue Exorcist / Ao no Exorcist (OUT OF LEFT FIELD THIS ONE)

Delusional Monthly Magazine / Gekkan Mousou Kagaku

This is already insanely long, so the second half of this essay about what I think is below ↓↓↓↓

DEFINITE WATCH LIST

SOLO LEVELING - I've been waiting for the solo leveling anime since BEFORE the anime was ever announced, re-reading the webcomic/manhwa multiple times and just HOPING someone would animate these gorgeous shadows. It is a very well done power fantasy with only squints of romance, and while I'm sad it's been localized to Japan (and all the fuckery that comes with of Korean erasure), I got to see the first two episodes at the World Premiere and I. Am. So. Hype.

APOTHECARY DIARIES existed completely outside of my head space, and my initial response at the premise was, Raven of the Inner Palace? I wasn't actually expecting much from it and then the first few episodes BLEW ME OUT OF THE WATER and now I'm obsessed.

DUNGEON MESHI is one of those manga I've heard about, but tried reading and it was too slow paced for me (I say, currently slogging through The Boat Arc (TM) of Hunter x Hunter), but the anime gives it life and I think I'll enjoy this alot. I love cooking anime and fantasy, so this will be fun!

KYUJITSU NO WARUMONOSAN is just straight up Crow Bait. That curly bowl cut, the gap moe of a villain who loves cute things, and voiced by fricken Shintarou Asanuma!!! (I know him as Samatoki from HypMic, other's will know him from the "Fucking Bullshit" song from Carole and Tuesday, and a host of other roles) Also, all the pretty sentei / power ranger boys!!! I'm so hype, in the most relaxed chill way for this.

UNDEAD UNLUCK is so weird in that it involves a lot of random sexualization, but it doesn't make me uncomfortable like Seven Deadly Sin's random gropping did, maybe because there is actual implied consent involved. Fuuko and Andy are Poly and I love them for it. And the world building is TOP NOTCH.

FIRE HUNTER - If you haven't seen season one, you are missing out. A darkly beautiful post-post apocolyptic alternate Japan-esque world, from the POV of a young girl, and a young genius boy having to let himself be manipulated by capitalism to survive, and gods? a magic system? but so soft that it's barely there even while being a full on fantasy story.

High Hopes or Taking My Time

SASAKI AND PEEPS- What a weird little show that has the weirdest combination of isekai, the most "this is fine." salaryman, and a fricken' CHUNIBYO BIRB. I've already watched the first episode and it feels like there are two magic systems going on and its a bit confusing, so we will see how this plays out!

WITCH AND BEAST - I keep wanting to call this Beauty and the Beast, because the beast is a rad bad ass looking lady, and the witch is certainly one of the most beautiful undertakers I've ever seen. I think he carries his boyfriend around in his coffin backpack, so I'm hype to see WTF is up with that >o>

DOCTOR ELISE - Why do manhwa I read keep randomly popping up as anime??? This is a vilainess turned good story, and supposedly the market is full of these, but none of them are the good ones I've read, so I did a double take of happiness when I saw this. THIS ONE IS GOOD. An spoiled princess gets killed, is reborn in Korea and becomes a doctor, only to be killed by Airplane-kun, and winds up back in her old body where she decides to become a doctor again! The prince is even not your typical icy asshole! (although maybe he is a little at the beginning..)

CHERRY MAGIC - THIS FRICKEN ENGLISH TITLE GOOD LORDS ABOVE. I'm dying. I'm also excited to see this one play out and I'll be hiding behind a pillow giggling like a mad lad while I do. It's been a while since there's been a good BL that's not SAD (looking at YOU Given and Banana Fish, but avoids eye contact with Sasaki and Miyano) so hopefully it doesn't dip into that territory. Going into this one mostly blind as to the premise apart from the obvious Gap-Moe with the love interest.

SHANGRI-LA - I started watching this on a whim as the Fall season started to wind down, and found it to be a good potato chip to have on in the background. I'll probably continue watching it, but not weekly.

FRIEREN - This is what I watch when Jujutsu Kaisen hurts too much to keep going. I'm only a few episodes in, so it'll be slow going, but I think it's about to pick up it's pacing a little where I'm at, and it'll be good comfort food to have.

MAYBES

Mashle Season 2 - The pacing was SUPER WEIRD in the first season that despite all of it's shitting on the properties of she-who-shall-not-be-named, the end of the season kind of fell flat. I wanted to like it more, so I'm hoping Season 2 does that for me.

Fluffy Paradise - I love isekais with an adult in a child's body pretending to be just super smart, and this doesn't feel like it's going to do that, but still looks cute none the less. I'll give it a few episodes, but will quickly drop it if my watch list is too long.

Ishura - Is this what life is like for D&D Characters when they hit level 20? I HOPE SO. I LOVED the Legend of Vox Machina, and hope this has the same sort of vibes, but I'm going in blind!

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic - Love me some fucked up healing magic. Please DO NOT let this be ANYTHING like Redo Healer. I refuse to watch that even those FUCKED UP HEALING MAGIC IS FUN. But this. This I want to see. Please let this also not be a harem. I'm fine with ~vibes~ but please no actual harem that's not actually Poly.

Blue Exorcist - THIS IS TOTALLY OUT OF NOWHERE. HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?????? I remember the last season feeling like a disappointment? But can't remember why? Gonna see if this is worth re-watching the seasons from like... a decade ago.

Delusional Monthly Magazine - I watched the PV and had no fucking clue what was happening. Therefore, I will be watching a few episodes to sate my curiosity about WTF OR possibly just get myself even more confused and rage quit. lmao

I've watched the first few episodes of a couple of these, and will be watching a few more tomorrow, so Next Goal: Post a write up or three about what I think!

#anime #anime winter 2024 #apothecary diaries #solo leveling #sousou no frieren #undead unluck #cherry magic #sasaki and peeps #dungeon meshi #mr. villain's day off #mashle #kusuriya no hitorigoto #frieren #beyond journey's end #ore dake level up na ken #delicious in dungeon #masterpost

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 36: Brother

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, death, delivering death notice

* Word count: 1,302ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! This is shorter than normal, but it made sense to break it up like this because of the heaviness that comes with the next chapter. Y’all are about to hate me lmao.

Jimmy and Stella were up on a flatbed unloading hay while Jamie put it in the barn. Cowboy sat off to the side cleaning his tack.

“Hey if you’re not gonna help, could you at least get outta the way?” Jimmy groaned, picking up another bale. “Explain this day-working thing to me. Because it seems to me like you live here now, but you only work when we move cows, and we already shipped out all the fuckin’ cows. So, what? Now you just get paid to do nothing?”

“That about sums it up.” Cowboy answered.

“Hey Jamie? Tell your dad I’m a day worker now.”

Jamie laughed and picked up another bale. “I think my father just forgot that he’s still here.”

“So now you’re gonna run and remind him?” Cowboy asked.

“Not my place.”

“You know Jamie, of all the dipshits in this outfit, you just might be alright.” Jamie and Stella laughed.

The cops pulled up. Stella frowned and called out to Jamie. “Jame!” He jogged out hearing Stella’s urgency.

He asked her, “what?” He scowled as he followed her pointed finger toward the cops. “Everyone stay here.”

Jamie moved around the flatbed and took his gloves off. “Commander, he’s up at the house.”

“I’m not here to see John. Lookin’ for Jimmy Hurdstrom.” Stella frowned again, trying to figure out what the commander could be looking for Jimmy for. The two of them jumped down from the flatbed.

Commander Ramsay spotted Jimmy and began moving toward him and Stella. Jamie asked, “um, what’s he being charged with?”

“Not being charged with anything.” Ramsay’s tone changed. “Jimmy.”

Jimmy looked at Jamie and he gave him a nod of approval. Ramsay walked Jimmy off to the side, away from everyone.

“It’s bad news. We found your grandfather this morning.”

“Found him? What do you mean?” Jimmy stepped forward. Stella stepped up behind him.

“It seems he’d been assaulted recently. And it appears a blood vessel in his brain ruptured as a result and he had a stroke and… I’m sorry.” Jimmy started hyperventilating. Stella placed her hand on his shoulder trying to keep him grounded. “Were you aware of this assault? Know anyone who would want to hurt him? He have a disagreement with anyone?” Commander Ramsay questioned quickly. Jimmy shook his head numbly. “You think of something, you let me know. We need to go to the coroner’s office and sign some paperwork. I’m sorry for your loss.” Commander Ramsay walked back to his vehicle.

Jamie raced over to Jimmy and Stella. “Jaybird, it’ll be okay. We’ll help you with whatever you need.” He looked at Stella but stared right through her.

“They killed him. I paid and they still killed him.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“I fucking paid and they still fucking killed him.” Jimmy yelled and pulled free of her grasp running off.

Stella and Jamie followed behind him to make sure he didn’t do anything too irrational. They stood behind him while he beat a tree relentlessly. She looked out to the horizon as the wranglers who were out prepping for the winter came cantering up.

“What the hell is he doing?” Kayce asked, glancing at Rip.

“C’mon.” Rip directed.

The men galloped up to them and Rip slid off his horse. He paced up to Jimmy as he stormed past everyone.

Rip grabbed Jimmy by the jacket. “What’re you doing?”

“I need a truck.”

“Hey, tell me what happened.” They fumbled with each other’s arms as Jimmy tried to fight his way past. “Hey, hey, Jimmy, hey hey. What just happened?”

“They killed him. They killed him and it’s my fault.” Jimmy struggled to get Rip off of him.

“Who did, Jimmy? Talk to me.” Rip glanced at the rest of the men waiting in the wings. “Lloyd, Lloyd, go on.” Lloyd moved everyone by.

Rip forced Jimmy to move away from the remaining group. “C’mere, c’mere.” Rip grabbed Jimmy by the jacket and forced Jimmy to face him. “Hey. Go on and tell me what happened. What happened.”

“I owed money.”

“So they beat your old man to make you pay.”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you owe money?” Jimmy didn’t answer. “Why’d you owe them money, Jimmy?”

“My past life.”

“You owe anyone else from the past?” Jimmy shook his head. “Okay gimme the rifle.”

“I’m gonna finish this.”

“Hey! You look at me. You finish it like this, you end up in fuckin’ prison for the rest of your life. I’m gonna show you how to get rid of problems so they don’t become new problems. You hear me? Now hand me the rifle.” Jimmy shoved the rifle at Rip. “Hey, c’mere.” Rip hugged Jimmy partially and patted his back. “Go inside. Let me talk to Kayce.”

Stella looked up at Kayce with sad eyes as she answered his unspoken question. “Someone killed his grandfather.”

“Fuck.” Kayce placed his hands on his hips and watch Rip tread over to them.

Rip stepped up to Kayce and Stella. “We need to take care of this tonight.”

Kayce objected. “We got a lot going on right now. May have to wait.”

“Kayce, you know we can’t do that.” Stella pushed back. “We’re literally all he has. He’s our brother now, and we’re our brother’s keeper.”

Rip shrugged. “I’m fine with waitin’, but he ain’t. Then we’re gonna have to clean up that fuckin’ mess too.”

“Yeah. We do it tonight.”

••

“Stella!”

She whipped her head in John’s direction. “Yessir?”

“I’ve got some broodmare paperwork for you to fill out up at the house. A couple contracts for studs for you to take a look at too.”

Stella’s eyes lit up like fire. “Of course I’ll look at them!” That job that was mentioned to her was finally coming back around.

Inside John’s office, she sat behind his desk and poured over the stud contracts in front of her. Metallicat, Bet Hesa Cat, Once In A Blu Boon; names that made her mouth salivate. These were studs she’d only ever dreamed of. John observed her closely.

“So what do ya think?”

She blew out a breath and sat back in the chair, crossing her legs at the knee. “I mean, these are some great studs sir. Definitely bred to do what we need. But they’re show horses. Are we going the show route first?”

“Travis thinks it would help get us proven a little bit faster.”

“One thing that would help us is if we bought a couple mares that have been big earners that are strictly broodmares now. But that’s gonna be a pretty penny.”

Kayce spied his dad and Stella putting their heads together. He was amazed at the way they worked together when Stella didn’t want to murder him. He wondered if this was what people saw when he and Stella worked on a problem. He cleared his throat. Both Stella and John looked up at him over their glasses. He smirked at the similarity.

He walked over to Stella and leaned down to kiss her cheek quickly. “Hey. Whatcha workin’ on?”

“Some of this broodmare and stud stuff. My actual job title here.” Stella laughed.

“Finally,” he shot a look at his dad and then focused back on Stella. “Where’s Tate?”

She adjusted her glasses and hummed. “He’s in his room, but grandpa was just about to go spend time with him. Isn’t that right John?”

He took his cue to leave. “Yeah, I need to go talk to him about his horse.”

Kayce and Stella watched him head off for his grandson. Kayce adjusted his black jacket. “I swear he gets more affection in one day than we got in our entire childhood.”

“Speak the truth, Kace.” She huffed out a laugh. “But it probably explains why we are the way we are.” She took in his outfit. “Where you headed?”

“That thing with Jimmy.”

Stella stood to meet him. He ducked his head and kissed her multiple times. She laughed at him and pulled back. “Listen, I know it has to be done. Just be careful, okay? Come home to me.”

“I will. Every time.” He kissed her again.

“Who’s all going with you?”

“Your brother, Rip and Lloyd.”

“Please keep everyone safe too.”

“We got each other’s backs.”

“Since Tate is with your dad, I’m gonna go take Abigail out for a ride. It’s been too long since I’ve been on her.” She picked her jacket off the back of John’s chair.

“Just don’t go too far out, okay sugar?”

“Yessir.” She smiled and kissed him.

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic

[ro-written]

Don't Wanna Fall In Love pt. 2 - C.Y

A/N: Listen..I know. It’s been a hot minute lmao. I gotta say, when I first wrote this part, I hated it and literally left it to sit for a while. I finally came back to it and now I don’t mind it! Go figure that lmaoooo, but anywhosies! I’m not gonna promise when the next part will be out, but thank yall for sticking with me thus far. 

Tags/Warnings: gn!reader (I used they/them pronouns at one point), Yeonjun Has Feelings (™), reader slips on wet bricks and busts their ass, nothing crazy happens honestly

Word Count: 3.2k

Playlist:

“Clouds” by BØRNS “Tek It” by Cafuné

Winter break gave you a month to forget about Choi Yeonjun.

Somewhat.

You attempted to stay busy by visiting some friends and some family. You picked up some extra hours at your job to make a little extra cash for Christmas gifts. You started a new book AND a new series on TV. 

Yet there were moments when your brain would flit back to his face when you closed the door on him. Like now, how you had scanned over this sentence in the book at least 7 times now and all you could think about were his eyes. How they watched you as you shut it. How his lips seemed to frown when you looked away from him, looking like he wanted to say something more. All you could think about was the small exchange between you two.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, Yeonjun…I’ll definitely see you around.”

You would smack your head lightly when you thought of that moment to try and refocus.

What bothered you the most was the fact that you couldn’t remember the night with him. All you could remember was that you invited him in. Nothing else. You wanted to ask him what he remembered, to see what exactly happened last night. But ultimately, you’d rather steer clear of him. The least amount of contact to keep from drawing any attention.

—

It annoyed him. All of it.

He couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you looked that night, the sound of your voice, how you smelled. He kept replaying all of it in his head.

Especially the moment you rushed him out of your apartment.

He remembered how panicked your face looked, and it bothered him. He tried looking for you around campus before he went home for the break, but any time he caught a glimpse of you, it seemed as if you were in a hurry to get somewhere else. 

He even found you on social media, something he really only used when he remembered it existed. When he found your account, he immediately followed you so he could message you. But you never followed back, and he didn’t want to seem weird reaching out to you. Bad enough he stalked your handle out without asking you for it.

He wasn’t winning himself any brownie points.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was acting this way. Why he wanted so badly to talk to you about that night. He typically would immediately forget about his temporary companions within a few days. But he supposes you aren’t his typical companion.

Hell, you didn’t even sleep with him, to begin with.

He remembered quite a bit of the night. He walked you back home, you brought him inside to help sober up a bit, and you both sat on the couch talking about various things. Unlike what he was expecting, where most people immediately dragged him to the bedroom, you sat and talked. Both his and your words were messy and jumbled up, a bit slurred from the drinks you had, but you talked with him. 

You listened to him talk about his interest in music, his favorite artists, and his passion for dancing. He spoke about his interest in fashion, and how he loved expressing his identity and personality through his clothes. He talked about his love for his best friends, and how they were the brothers that he never had. You cared about what he had to say, even while tipsy.

Just thinking about it made his face burn a bit, the corners of his lips twitching a bit. He could remember how your tired eyes kept their attention on him, nodding along with what he said. Even as they drooped, you would respond to everything.

“Yeonjun,” Taehyun kicked his foot, bringing him out of his thoughts. Yeonjun’s face looked up from where he was staring at the floor, seeing all four of his best friends’ eyes looking at him. 

“You’ve been spaced out for the past ten minutes,” Hyuka filled in. 

Yeonjun nodded, giving them all an apologetic smile, and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry guys, just been out of it recently.”

“You’ve been out of it since after the end-of-semester party.” Soobin pointed out. Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, not realizing that his restlessness had been so noticeable all this time. “Something happen?” Soobin’s smirk suggested something else underlying his “innocent” question. Yeonjun just rolled his eyes and tried to refocus on the book he had been reading.

They went to Beomgyu’s uncle’s cabin for a few days before school started back up, wanting to get away from the ever-alive city. They had all agreed that they needed some bonding time together (even though they considered themselves brothers) and needed to be disconnected from the rest of the world before school pulled them back into the depths of studying. It was nice to just be near his friends and be himself, not having to be “The Fabulous Five” for a minute. Stupid name.

“Didn’t you leave out with someone?” Beomgyu piped up, tilting his head and causing the black hair he was growing out the fall in his face. “I thought I saw you head out, but I couldn’t see who you left with. Must have done a real number on you.” He snickered, turning to laugh with the others. 

Yeonjun clenched his jaw at his friends’ remarks. Typically he would laugh along with them, even if they were picking on him and his bedroom tendencies. But this time around, with him feeling so conflicted about his emotions towards you, it caused him to just grow agitated.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone that night,” he bluntly remarked back without looking up.

Actually, he hasn’t slept with anyone after that night either. But until they pieced that together, he was not freely offering that information up.

“But you left with someone, didn’t you?” Soobin’s voice piped back up, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes before finally looking at his friends spread around the room. He saw the looks they were all giving him. Ones that told him they were not planning on leaving him alone until he told them the details. He let out an exasperated sigh before setting his book down and marking the page he was on.

“Yes, I left out with someone that night. No, we did not have sex. We simply…talked. And we ended up falling asleep. I left out in the morning. That’s all there is to it.”

Except he knew that he was lying. There was undoubtedly more to it that he wasn’t letting on, given his recent habit of spacing out so much that his friends picked up on.

“Hyung,” Hyuka finally spoke up from his seated position on the floor across the coffee table. “You know you can tell us if something happened. It’s obviously bothering you.” He offered Jjun a sweet smile, one the older knew he would have trouble saying no to. He took yet another sigh, sitting up from his spread position on the couch.

“It’s just…” he slightly trailed off, not knowing what exactly he wanted to say. He hadn’t had feelings like these, whatever these were, in a few years.

“We just talked, you know? It was the first time someone outside of you all actually had an interest in what I had to say rather than just my body. Someone was interested in getting to know me beyond the surface level and…and then I was just pushed out in the morning. I was told it was all a ‘mistake.’ But what’s even worse is that I don’t even know how I feel about this person.”

Yeonjun stared down at where he was picking at his nails, slightly nervous at looking at his friends’ faces. He knows that they all remember the last relationship, and he doesn’t quite want to hear them remind him of it.

“That’s…” Taehyun reached out and put a hand on Yeonjun’s knee, offering some comfort. “It makes sense. Do you know why this other person rushed you out? Have you tried to reach out at all?”

“I have but it just seems like they don’t want anything to do with me. And, I don’t know, I just felt like we had kind of connected that night.” Taehyun looked at Soobin while Yeonjun’s head was still down, giving a look that was hard to decipher.

“If you’re really into them,” Beomgyu piped up. “I say it doesn’t hurt to maybe go to them in person when we get back to campus. See what their deal is. Maybe they don’t know how to approach you.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at his friend with sympathetic eyes.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re the least approachable out of us,” Hyuka smirked and Beomgyu lightly shoved him, causing Yeonjun to smile, finally relaxing a bit.

Jjun nodded and looked around at his brothers. “I’m definitely going to try.”

—

First day of the Spring semester…and you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your classroom building. Of course, the rain was pouring heavily as you walked down the sidewalk, making you slide across the bricks. You didn’t have your rain boots anymore after someone (read: Jung Wooyoung) put them in the washer and dryer. So now you were stuck with your sneakers trying to watch where you trekked. It took carefully placed steps and really thinking about your walking for you to almost make it to your class without busting your ass. 

Almost.

Because, just as you were only a few steps from the door, you made the worst mistake of your life, and stepped on the wrong brick. Your foot slipped from under you, and your umbrella went up into the air as you put your hands down to catch yourself from completely bruising your behind. 

“Mother fucker,” you hissed out, placing a hand on your lower back as a shot of pain went through your body.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked from behind you called out over the heavy rain. Awesome.

A firm hand grabs at your bicep, gently helping you up as you slightly limped over to where your umbrella fell, pulling it over your head so you could keep yourself from getting any more drenched.

“Sorry, yeah I’m good, just didn’t–” You turned around to face the person who helped you up, only for the rest of your words to get caught in your throat.

Choi. Yeonjun. Of fucking course.

“Oh, hey.” It was all you could muster in your surprised state, and you were sure your voice gave away your shock. You hadn’t expected to run into him on your first day back, but here you were anyways. In fact, thinking over it, you were surprised to see him on this side of campus. He was a fashion and music double major…so what was he doing at the math building?

“How ha–”

“Sorry, I gotta…gotta get to class.” You interrupted him and gripping your umbrella tightly in your one hand, rushed to the front door to pull it open. You don’t typically consider yourself to be a rude person, not normally interrupting someone in the middle of their sentences and rushing off like that. But every time you had spotted Yeonjun since that night in your apartment, you would hurry off or hide. Simply put, you just didn’t want to deal with those feelings, nor draw any attention that came with interacting with him. And if dodging and ducking him was what you had to do for the rest of your time at the school, then so be it.

You hurriedly found your class, opening the door and finding a seat towards the farthest side of the room away from the door, somewhere in the middle. You took a deep breath, trying to slow your beating heart from everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes. You shifted a bit, thankful that these seats were cloth rather than the colder plastic the other buildings tended to have. It helped considering the backside of your jeans was still very wet and cold. 

Sitting for a second, you took a moment to recollect yourself. All you had to do was make it through this semester, and then it would be summertime. He would forget all about you over the summer with his summer flings, and the rest of your time here would be fine. No dodging or diving. Your only job now was to focus on classes and made sure you finished off the year strong. Not only did you have schoolwork, but you had your friends, family, and job to worry about. As well as the future, of course. That would take your mind off Yeonjun.

Pulling out your laptop and a notebook, you heard the door to the room open up, letting out a loud groan from its age. A small gasp came from behind you, and some murmurs filled the room. Quirking an eyebrow, you looked up from your laptop. 

Your eyes widened, meeting the last person you wanted to see.

Choi. Yeon. Jun.

—

Every class, you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, and it would cause you to lose focus. The first few times you tried to shrug it off. You figured that, eventually, he would have to give up. He would have to get tired of chasing you around. To your dismay, you’d come to find out that Choi Yeonjun was a very persistent man, and as the staring didn’t stop, you ultimately got irritated by it.

A few times you would turn your head around, attempting to not bring too much attention, and try to give him a glare, telling him to knock it off. However, this time, as soon as you turned your head around, he would be the one to look away, a small smirk playing on his lips. It would make you clench your jaw in frustration, but you would have to learn how to block it out.

Another routine that persisted in your shared class was that, after each session, he would quickly pack up and start making his way over to you. And you in turn, seeing him approach you out of the corner of your eye, would pack your things faster and borderline sprint to the door, knowing the last thing you needed now was him talking to you in front of the class.

He couldn’t understand it. He knew now that you were trying to avoid him, seeing you walk quicker every time you noticed him. But he didn’t understand why. You seemed so interested in him that night. You both talked about everything, talked about who you were as people. Who you both hoped to become in the future.

So why were you being so cold now?

—

“Why are you avoiding me?

“Huh?”

You had been leaving your last class to catch the bus to get to your apartment. However, when a hand grabbed at your arm and dragged you into an empty classroom, you couldn’t help but let out a small yelp of surprise, your other hand coming up ready to stat hitting at whoever it was.

Only, when you saw who it was, you lowered your arm, despite still having half a mind to hit him for scaring you. His question didn’t quite fully register in your brain due to the sizzy nature of everything happening so fast.

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw tensed. “You’re avoiding me. Why?”

You moved so his hand would let go of your bicep, shifting around your bag in order to keep your hands busy. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about. You always run the opposite way when you see me, you respond to everything I say in less than three words, and you’re looking at me right now like I’ve grown two heads. So why are you avoiding me?”

Your eyes rolled and you planted your feet down, standing your ground as you looked him in the eye. “God, Yeonjun, I told you that night was a mis–” 

“I know. You said that, and I know that’s what you think.” His teeth gritted.

“Look all we did was sleep together and that’s it, I don’t understand why I am so different from all your other conquests.”

His brain felt like it just did tripped over itself, and it took him a second to thoroughly process the words you said to him.

“Wh–...So…Wait you’ve been avoiding me because you think we fucked?” His eyebrows shot up in shock and you slowly nodded your head, confused at what he was trying to say. He let out a scoff before a chuckle, turning his head to the door that he had pushed you through.

“God, if I had realized…” he trailed off, and your eyebrows pulled taut at where he was going. He finally leveled with your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “(Y/N), we didn’t have sex that night.”

He may as well have splashed ice-cold water on you with the way you froze. Your eyes went wide at his admission and you felt - and probably looked - like a deer in headlights. Your eyes went unfocused and fuzzy. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the fact that you had been dodging him the entire time for something that never actually happened.

“That night,” he continued, looking down at where his hands started to fidget. “We went back to your apartment, and you asked me to come inside so I could sober up. I did think at first that you were about to lead me into your bedroom. I mean, that’s what I’m used to. But you told me to sit on the couch and you went to get us both some water.”

A flash of a blurry memory played in your head, remembering how your head was slightly spinning filling the cups and walking back to the living room.

“And then we just started to talk. That was really all it was. Us talking about…well, everything. We talked about school and then that led to us talking about what we wanted to do in the future and our hobbies–”

“You really like J.Cole.” You interrupted him and watched as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “And…and you want to wear skirts more because you enjoy the feminine look it adds to your style.” 

A smile graced his face, his eyes lighting up at the small details you happened to remember. You wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it made your heart flutter in the tiniest bit. “Exactly.” 

His hand twitched, and he looked as if he was considering something, before he shook his head and continued to play with the skin around his nails.

“It’s just,” he continued as he stared at his hands once more. “I really enjoyed our talk. It felt as if…it felt like someone saw me. And…I don’t know, I was just wondering that, since you know all that now…” He clenched his fists, trying to find his words. Jesus christ, it shouldn’t be this hard. 

Finally, he sputtered out his question. “I was wondering if it would be okay if we hung out a little?”

Once again, your body froze up.

“No.”

And you left the classroom.

This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright Ro-Written 2023.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

#txt #tubatu #tomorrow by together fic #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun fanfic #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun fluff #choi yeonjun angst #yeonjun txt #txt fic

[i-didnt-do-1t]

does Davey probably eventually go get Oscar though? "It tastes terrible, I know. But it'll make your fever go down." From Oscar to Morris

Hello! Davey definitely did go and get Oscar, he has no idea how to deal with a sick delancey lmao, enjoy :)

“Really Mo’? Making the mouth come an’ get me?”

Everything was blurred, and his head somehow felt worse than it had the week before when he’d tried (and failed) to drink Oscar under the table.

He barely had any memories of the morning aside from the odd feeling of floating and the vague feeling of numb hands. And now he was sitting on the ground, the brick of a wall digging into his back. He blinked a few times, lifting his head from where his chin had fallen against his chest somehow and the back of his neck ached.

Everything hurt. His head throbbed and his vision was still dark at the edges.

He blinked in an attempt to get the world to straighten back up but it did nothing aside from make his head spin and all he could make out was Oscar’s face and his furrowed eyebrows. Then there was the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, but it was a familiar weight so one he wouldn’t shrug away from.

Morris would’ve rolled his eyes if he felt he could do it without sending a shooting pain through his skull and the backs of his eyes but he was sure Oscar understood the sentiment.

The day was coming back to him in fragments.

“F’makes you feel any better think I told him’ not to.”

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah, rub it in when I don’feel like I’m about to pass out.”

In his defence, Oscar was able to stay quiet for all of ten seconds as he leant down and reached an arm under Morris’s shoulders in an attempt to prop him up, trying to avoid standing on the glass at his feet from a cup that Morris vaguely remembered hearing smash.

And then.

“I told you so.” Oscar said, the word’s quiet and smug as hell.

Morris knew it had been coming but he hated hearing it all the same.

“I’m gonna break your jaw so’s you can’t talk,”

“Uh-huh.” Oscar hauled him and the world swam for second, “You doin’ that before or after you pass out?”

The answer on his tongue died in his mouth as he stumbled to the side and his vision blacked, Oscar’s grip the only thing keeping him upright.

“Christ Mo’.”

“After.” He concluded, swallowing down the violent rise of nausea as he waited for the dark spots in his vision to disappear completely and Oscar snorted in response.

“Shut up and focus on walkin’”

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, the worst.” He paused. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

Oscar didn’t let go of him the whole walk home.

————

“Think we got some medicine from when I got sick last winter.”

Oscar’s voice carried easily from the kitchen when he wanted it to Morris noted, and he would’ve pushed himself up, forced himself into the kitchen if he thought could because he hated lying in bed like this while it was light outside. Wiesel was going to go through him when he got home too, and being here like a sitting duck just made him an easy target, it was only that the thought of moving made the nausea curling in his stomach worse, and the ache in his head stopped any plans of getting up with the way it sharpened when he turned his head to the side.

It didn’t help that any motion at all made him feel like he was underwater, and he was pretty sure he was verging on the asleep side of being half awake but he frowned anyway at Oscar’s suggestion and spoke back, hoping he was loud enough for Oscar to hear.

“Os’ that stuff’s fuckin’ disgusting.”

“Yeah. Means it works.”

“Don’t think it does.”

But Oscar had that tone of voice which meant it didn’t really matter what Morris wanted. He would be taking the medicine because Oscar told him to and their was no point trying to argue.

He must’ve blinked, or maybe passed out for a moment, because one second Oscar was in the kitchen and the next he was standing by Morris’s bed and shoving his hand back on his forehead, donning that crease between his eyebrows which only got deeper and more concerned look the longer he held his hand there, the black looking glass bottle held in his other.

“I know it tastes terrible but it’ll help your fever go down.”

“I don’t got a fever.”

“Fuckin’ news to me. Drink some Mo.”

Morris glared, though if it looked anything like he felt it probably wasn’t that intimidating, doubly so because it was directed at Oscar of all people.

“You ain’t five Mo. Drink it.”

He relented and snatched the bottle from Oscar’s hand, the movement making him dizzy.

He downed a mouthful, and immediately stopped himself from wretching at the bitter taste, eyes squinted shut.

“Weren’t so hard was it?”

Morris glared, and then let his eyes drift close as he lent back against his thin pillow, mouth sour and coated and head spinning.

He spoke toward the ceiling with his eyes still shut and just had to hope Oscar was still there.

“You ain’t even gonna bring me a glass of water to wash it down.”

It was a statement not a question, and he could practically feel Oscar’s shrug.

“Nah. Maybe it’ll teach you not to be a moron next time and wonder off when you’re sick.”

“What, you worried about me or’ somethin’?”

And Morris knew the answer really, but wasn’t expecting Oscar to say anything, except, there was a nudge against his leg.

“And what if I was huh?”

And that was confirmation enough.

#newsies #thanks for the ask!

[beanie-twink]

So since you wanted some ianthony song recs... And I am also currently working on creating a playlist for them. I figured you wouldn't mind if I ramble about some of my favourite choices so far! :D

For now the playlist is still pretty TS heavy , since I went through her albums first to look for songs. So here are some of my top choices (aside from midnight rain) for them there:

- forever winter

"he spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be" "all this time I didn't know you were breaking down. I'd fall to pieces on the floor, if you weren't around"

- 'tis the damn season

"if I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone I would have asked you" "so we could call it even [...] I'm staying at my parent's house and the road not taken looks real good now" "and I always leads to you, in my hometown" "so I'll go back to LA [...] And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'"

- and then of course the corresponding "Dorothea"

- closure (this song hits even more since we know about the letter that Anthony wrote)

(tho I'm glad that the song doesn't actually apply to them irl anymore; it just feels like Smth for the in between phase)

- both happiness and evermore also fit pretty well for that time

Especially with "sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury. You haven't met the new me yet" "now I get fake niceties. No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too"

And

"motion capture put me in a bad light" "writing letters addressed to the fire" "I rewind the tape but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost"

- also "right where you left me" for Ian Vs "it's time to go" for anthony

- I almost do

Literally the whole song fits so well here idk what else to say (works from both perspectives imo)

- Breathe

"Cause none of us thought that it was gonna end this way. Ppl are ppl and sometimes we change our minds. But it's killing me to see you go after all this time" "you're the only thing I know like the back of my hand" "It's 2:00 am feeling like I just lost a friend. Hope you know it's not easy for me"

- That's when

Just really reminds me of that time when they were still apart and when asked if there are any plans of Anthony coming back one day or Smth like that and said Smth along the lines of "the door is always open"

- the story of us

Again, literally the whole song istg

But especially "now I'm standing alone in a crowded room and we're not speaking. And I'm dying to know: is it killing you like it's killing me?"

- from folkore I think both "the 1" and "exile" fit pretty well

Especially "and it took you 5 whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it" and the whole bridge with "you didn't even here me out. You never gave a warning sign/I gave so many signs"

- also "this is me trying"

With "I didn't know if you care if I came back. I have a lot of regrets about that." "But I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know, that this is me trying" (Anthony)

"and it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film real on the one screen in my town"

- you're loosing me (right before the Anthony left smosh)

"do I throw out everything we built or keep it?" "my face was gray but you wouldn't admit that we were sick"

- New Year's Day (hurts during the "break-up" era, but also feels very healing atm tbh)

"don't read the last page. But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes"

"hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you"

"Please don't ever become a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere"

Honourable mentions:

- I wish you would

- you are in love

- long live

- the very first night

- hits different

Sorry this was way longer than intended lmao.

And mostly angsty

Hope you enjoy some of them tho! :D

ANOTHER IANTHONY SWIFTIE BLESSED DAY

#thank you for the recs!!!!!! #your beanie-twink fact of the day: I’m a huge swiftie #I’ve never listened to ts with an ianthony lens prob bc I became a swiftie after I had stop watching smosh after Anthony left #STOP RWYLM IAN…oh…oh…I’m in Pain…. #combined with its time to go for Anthony #Taylor fits so many ships on god #STORY OF US FOR THEM OHHH MY GODDDD #you’re losing me + ianthony might be the death of me I fear #ianthony #ianthony song recs

[dude-why-3]

Hiii, I'm here for Aruani writer game!

1, 2, 5, 7, 9, 14, 15

Hi Anna, thank you for the ask!! I'm sorry it took this long to answer but here we go:

Share your favorite part of your latest fic. And since the latest is chapter 11 of wpts, it would be this paragraph:

"What?" His eyes search hers for a few seconds before he says, “We’ll be alright."  Annie’s eyes narrow at his statement. “I know." Armin presses his lips together. He searches Annie's face, takes in her eyes, the black circles that seem to have gotten bigger in the past few days, the way she bites her lips and chews on the inside of her cheeks. The way she digs her nails into her palms, he's concerned she'd soon draw blood. He hesitantly reaches his hand out and brushes his little finger against hers. Annie sighs heavily, letting her shoulders slump and fist unclench. Armin’s eyes trail down to her palm, finding that she's only left a few marks. He sneaks his hand into hers, gives it a slight squeeze, interlaces his fingers with hers.  "We'll be fine," Annie repeats his words, her voice barely above a whisper.  "We will be." He gives her hand another squeeze, and this time Annie reciprocates it. She gives him a small smile before returning to her water droplets, her hand not leaving his.

2. Share your favorite part of your first ever fic

Thing is, I no longer have the original document of my first fic and I have deleted it off of the face of the internet, so I can't really do this one. But it was the scene where Armin and Annie were trying to get closer and he told her he really liked ducks and that they reminded him of her. It was written in 2020 and I think it's the thing that started the whole duck thingy lmao. I later recycled the scene in 'Who painted the sky?' so there's that.

5. Write about Armin and Annie's first meeting (in an au, i'll let you guess which one hehe):

He hears rustling from behind, and for a second thinks it’s an animal, but then the sound of shoes against dirt makes him reconsider. He gazes at his bare dirty feet as he continues his work, dreading whatever interaction might follow. He can only hope it’s just a passerby. That thought disappears when he hears a quiet, whispery voice calling his name. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s the mayor’s daughter. He keeps his head low, acknowledging her with a nod but not raising his eyes. Getting in trouble for even daring to be in her immediate proximity is not something he's willing to do today, so he keeps doing his work, raising the scythe and slamming it back onto the ground, dragging it towards him.  The girl doesn’t move one inch, her eyes burning holes in the back of his head. Suddenly, Armin is very aware of his scrawny figure, unprotected by the shirt he's abandoned by the side of the property when the sun got too unbearable. Eventually, he sighs and raises his eyes to her level. 

7. What was the inspiration behind your shortest fic?

My shortest fic is "The stars are beautiful tonight". The inspiration behind it is a winter night with a clear sky and thousands of stars. I tried putting the stars into constellations and then this idea came to me.

9. Which of your fics is your favourite? Why?

It must be Long ago, before we were born, not only because it's inspired by my favourite song from my favourite singer, but also because I wrote while being around my favourite people, so this fic is something really special to me. Also, I really love how I wrote it! Every word fits in its place so perfectly and it feels so intentional and I like the suspense I created in the beggining, when you don't really know what going on.

14. Tell us a detail you wrote that nobody commented on yet

It's a quite important plot point and I'm still hoping someone will figure it out lmao, so I can't do this one, sorry :3

15. Write a hurt/comfort/angst moment between them:

Annie storms out into the hallway. "I got no one!" she berates, her voice almost breaking, as she turns to face him. "I can literally count everyone who gives a shit about me on my fingers!" "Do it then!" Armin says. Annie holds out her hands, her palms facing him, her fingers extended outwards. Then, slowly, one by one, she lets her fingertips touch her palm, her hands forming fists. Her eyes, glassy, pierce through him, going right through his heart, breaking it in tiny little pieces. His eyes widen, and then they narrow.  "Zero," Annie says, her hands now trembling the slightest bit. "I got no one." Armin reaches out and takes her hand in his, caressing it with his fingertips before straightening one of her fingers. Her eyes narrow in confusion.  "You've got me."

#you asked for angst i gave you angst :3 #maybe that will end up in a fic one day who knows #thank you for the ask anna! #again sorry it took this long #ask game #aruani

[dorizardthewizard]

HSM (2006) rewatch pt 5

5: Audition time!

The ad cuts are taking me out hahaha

We see Sharpay give Darbus some sort of gift, we can guess she’s one of those students where the teachers think she’s the most loveliest thing on the planet but to other students she’s a nightmare

Ah, the first of the classic silly Chad shirts – “I come with my own background music”. How much time does he spend picking these out? And the watches from earlier?? If you think about it the only other guy with an outfit quirk is Ryan- /shot

Chad you’re a terrible spy

Obsessed with this kid who can’t speak because otherwise they’d have to pay the extra more. They actually try to dub over with a voice but it’s so faint it's not even subbed, looks like this kid just randomly grabs Chad’s hand to greet him it’s so funny, but Chad is just like “Oh, hi! :D”. Actually I am now proclaiming this guy is mute.

There’s an auto shop in this school???? So apparently some schools with a focus on trades do have these, huh pretty cool

I love Kelsi’s fit. It’s just so her <3

The first girl is me when I try to sing

Girl with the pink flower's singing skills are about right for the plays I did tbh, it was a small thing in a church hall and not a single one of us kids were actually good at it. But it was fun!

Hey what was with the 2000s and thinking bad opera singing was the height of comedy? We’re only missing their glasses breaking

Darbus: What... courage! To pursue a note that has... not been accessed in the natural world! Bravo, uh, brava! Darbus: Perhaps the spring musicale?

SAVAGE. Also, spring musicale? SO THERE IS A SPRING ONE. WHEN?? If you’re doing AUDITIONS for the winter one in JANUARY, when is the spring one supposed to be??

Mad respect to this ballet guy. Maybe they let him join the ensemble? This reminds me, I caught Billy Elliott on TV the other day and I'm planning on watching Jump In soon, I'm just watching the same old themes this month huh

Darbus: Well that was just... very disturbing. Go see a counsellor

HELLO??? 😭😭😭 I mean I see they were going for the originality points and tried to do some interpretative dance, honestly it’s not too far from GCSE drama productions that always seem to have something to do with peer pressure, drugs or a car crash lmao

Reaction montage because same:

OK now that Gabriella’s here I want to point out that Troy did actually come here of his own accord, of course he’d hoped Gabriella would be there as he was checking the audition sheet earlier, but I see this as being an “it’s less scary if it’s the two of us” thing, rather than him only being interested in the musical because of Gabriella. Sure, she sparked his curiosity as he realised how much he enjoyed the karaoke singing, but once he got to the theatre he wasn’t looking around searching for her - I think due to the sequels where Gabriella has to convince Troy to do the performance and he’s all reluctant at first, we kind of forget that initially, he was the one to take the first step, even if he’s too scared to actually audition here. I kind of wish they’d kept this and progressed it into the sequels so he’s more confident with his love of theatre going forward, but instead they keep repeating the whole “ahhhh I don’t sing” thing.

Gabriella: So you decided to sign up for something? Troy: Uh... no. You? Gabriella: No...

Hahaha Troy and Gabriella are basically like “No I won’t do it uh, unless you wanted to”

Haha, little callback to when she asked him why he's whispering and he said his friends don't know about the singing thing.

RYAN DID THAT CARTWHEEL ONE HANDED??? KING!!!!

Okay Sharpay and Ryan’s version of What I’ve Been Looking For is more fun than Kelsi’s original for sure, but look Kelsi wrote the song that way for a reason – it probably fits the vibe of the scene and the emotions of the characters at that point in the story. So to see your vision ignored, and your song reworked without consulting you, that’s a pretty big insult for an artist. Like, that’s her song! Her creation! Also Sharpay and Ryan don't have the chemistry for the roles for obvious reasons, and their choreography can be a bit… idk... literal? At the line “that you were always there beside me” they often look at each other like “Oh! Haha there you are!” which is a bit of a shallow interpretation of the song imo. Like I get their limitation because they’re siblings, but that’s just showbiz you can’t expect to fit every single main role you audition for? Anyway it’s B tier for me, catchy enough but nothing show-stopping.

I like how there’s little hints at conflicts between the two though, like Sharpay stopping Ryan so she can walk out first, bumping into him during the number and her telling him not to do the jazz squares but Ryan doing it anyway. He’s not completely subservient to her.

Sharpay is so mean to Kelsi and y’all wanna say she was the victim here? She’s an elitist that doesn’t encourage new talent or cooperation, she just likes to be on top.

Gabriella: I'd like to audition, Ms Darbus!

I feel like they could have portrayed Gabriella’s motivations a bit better because they’re a tad unclear for me – with Troy we had scenes about his conflict and we can see he’s genuinely curious about singing on stage, but Gabriella seemed pretty certain she didn’t want to do anything like that right at the start of the year, plus she’s got major stage fright. So what exactly got her to go to the audition? Did she guess Troy would be there? If anyone's got any thoughts or meta on that I'd love to hear it

Troy is so kind to Kelsi aw, taking the time to boost her confidence. It’s not like he knew she’d play them the music, he genuinely just saw someone being mistreated and wanted to boost them up. In the novelisation, Kelsi is freaking out because THE Troy Bolton is talking to her and turns out he's just a nice sweet guy who doesn't think he's above everyone else, it's sweet.

OK I know people laugh at them being able to sightread here, but they already heard how the tune goes as they saw Sharpay and Ryan’s audition, and this is essentially just the same thing slowed down, with some prompts from Kelsi. It’s not thaaaaat farfetched.

So for Troy and Gabriella’s version of the song? I’m sure this version suits that part of the musical more, they have great chemistry when singing it and they can sing well, so I can see why Darbus would consider them. It’s just that in my personal rankings I wouldn’t really listen to this so it’s C tier, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. The song does exactly what it needs to do at this point in the story.

Aw Kelsi’s so excited! Even inviting them to her house for breakfast practice ^^

#high school musical #hsm #high school musical (2006) #hsm liveblog #troy bolton #gabriella montez #kelsi nielsen #sharpay evans #ryan evans #chad danforth #dori watches hsm #my posts