#it’s still way more mobile than it was but going down stairs is still not normal

[tundrakatiebean]

I was on my feet/walking too fast/sitting weird for way too long the past 48 hours and my ankle is pissed about it. It’s swollen and sore, more swollen than it has been since I got here. It’s still within reasonable parameters and isn’t anything scary but it is another level of discomfort I really don’t want to be dealing with.

#katie is rambling 2k22 #just realized travel date change means I’m going to be down here #when my osteo calls to check up on me #and I straight up have not had the energy to do any excersizes here #it’s still way more mobile than it was but going down stairs is still not normal #ugh I don’t want to deal with the phone call #maybe I’ll email her

[angeljeonjk97]

BodyWork || Bell #1

Jungkook x reader

friends to lovers

18+ (fluff, smut)

warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol,

Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.

“You already know how I like it baby”

You sit behind the desk of your dad's gym, playing a mobile game on your phone, waiting for the last person to leave before you can lock up. It was now dark outside, the entire sky was pitch black, not even a star in the sky. Your head jolts up at the sound of the male changing room door opening.

A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair and an arm covered in tattoos wearing a plain white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, emerges from the opening door.

He glances over at me behind the black-painted desk,

"Yo! Where's your dad?" he asks you, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

Jungkook is a famous boxer and has been for the past 5 years, and the gym that your dad owns just so happens to be where he trains. Your dad has owned this boxing gym for as long as you can remember and many professionals have trained here, but none for as long as Jungkook.

"Oh, he left already," You respond after realising you were probably looking at him for a bit longer than you should have, "Why?"

He casually walks over to the desk, leaning against it slightly to speak to you.

"He said he wanted to tell me something but, it obviously wasn't that important," Jungkook pauses before taking a sip from his bottle that rested in his right hand.

Your dad has always been the type to never wait around for anyone. He will do what he wants in his own time, without thinking of others most of the time. That's not to say he's selfish or anything but he can be quite... let's just say... assertive sometimes.

"How's training?" you place your phone down on the desk, placing your elbows on the platform with your chin in your left hand, looking up at Jungkook's muscular frame.

He scoffs, standing up straight to face you properly, he spans his arms out to his sides, with a cocky smirk on his face,

"I'm gonna win, so easily"

You roll my eyes and smile at his painfully obvious act. Despite his skills and how he hasn't lost a single match in the past 3 years, Jungkook is one of the humblest people you know. You both have known each other for 8 years and even though he's 26 now and is known pretty much all over the world, he hasn't changed at all.

He laughs at your response before getting closer to the desk again.

"You need help locking up again?"

"Nah, I should be fine," You reply, swivelling around in the black leather barstool, jumping down and pulling the keys from your pocket, proceeding to lock the cash register up.

"You got a lift home?" The black-haired man asks watching you as you walk from behind the desk and towards the changing room doors.

"I'm taking the bus home,"

"The bus? Why didn't you ask me to take you home?"

You turn your head to him behind you, flashing him a small smile.

"I didn't want to bother you, Kook, you've already worked hard today," you answer honestly, looking at Jungkook as you walk up the stairs. He follows behind.

"Oh come on. I've told you before to ask me if you need a lift home, buses aren't safe at night," He raises his voice a little so you can still hear him, "I'm driving you home."

You stop what your doing before looking at him with a disappointed look.

"Jungkook, I'll be fine-"

"No, I am driving you home," He cuts you off, crossing his arms across his chest. He goes silent for a bit as you don't respond to him before he breaks it again with a declaring tone, "I'm going to my car, if I don't see you in the passenger seat next to me in five minutes I'm dragging you out of here."

His voice fades as he begins making his way back down the stairs. You shake your head with a smile, knowing that you can't say no to JK.

After a few minutes, you make your way out of the gym, locking the doors behind you and pulling the shutters down afterwards. Before you turn around, you hear the sound of a car pulling up behind you. Of course, when you turn around it's a black Mercedes, that had Jungkook sitting behind the steering wheel. you open the passenger door seating yourself next to him, in which he sets off a few seconds later.

Once he parks up outside your apartment complex you turn to Jungkook,

"Thank you again, kook, but like I said, you don't have to be my taxi driver all the time. Someone might see you"

Jungkook shrugs back, his tattooed arm leaning against the steering wheel, "So what if someone sees me? It's not like you're in here giving me a blowjob or something"

You slap him on the arm with the back of your hand, giving him a disapproving look. He laughs back casually as these types of crude jokes are common coming from him.

"I'll walk you in," Jungkook says as he swings his car door open before you are doing the same.

Making your way up the stairs Jungkook remains behind you the entire time, looking up through the hole that the stacked up stairs, all leading to different floors, created.

Reaching your apartment door, you pull your keys out from your pocket, rattling them in your door, as Jungkook watches over you from behind.

"You coming in?" you ask looking up at him from behind innocently.

"Aw nah, not today y/n. It's late and I gotta be up early again tomorrow for training," He gives you a guilty look, glancing into your apartment, "I promise I'll be over soon though"

You give him a sad smile, remembering how much time he used to spend at your place with you. Because of his big fight in 2 months, he's been busy since the beginning of the year and hasn't spent as much time with you as you had liked, but you're not mad. You understand how tiring training can be, plus it's not like you two don't hang out at all anymore, you still make time for each other when it's possible.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then?" You respond, walking into your apartment and facing him again.

"Goodnight y/n"

index-next->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note:

hiii, I hope you all liked this chapter. I know not a lot has happened but I promise it'll get better from here. This was just a little introduction to y/n and Jungkook's relationship and lore explaining. I'm so excited for this new fic so I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Please look out for when new chapters come out!!!

#bts #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #angst #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #fluff #jjk #jungkook fluff #boxing #friends to lovers

[sunflowersinthedirt]

Golden Slumbers: JPM ✨

fluff and angst, very needy reader! mentions of weed, cigarettes and alcohol. also mentions of beatles get back/let it be period.

1969!paul mcbeardy.

again, sorry for any typos. english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

- X -

I was freezing when I decided to go to bed. I drank wine, but not as much as when I'm in Paul's company. It's night, and even with alcohol, Martha, and a fireplace, nothing seemed to warm me up. Maybe I missed Paul.

It had been a couple of days since he slept with me. Get Back and Twickenham were taking up a lot of his time. He seemed grumpy when he got home, but always took some time to cuddle with me as if the external problems that working with his band for the past 18 months were causing. Martha had become my biggest companion in this house, following me wherever I went.

When I got into that bathtub, I didn't think I was that sleepy. I dozed off lightly, and when I felt the water getting cold, I decided to get up, dry off, and go to bed. Martha had been sleeping in her bed for ages. There were some beds scattered around the house for her to rest, as she was a very calm dog. I put on one of Paul's shirts to feel like he was there with me... I had no idea what time he'd be back and he hadn't confirmed anything with me. I inhaled his scent embedded there and turned to the empty side of the bed.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the tiredness, the longing... I just know I fell asleep. But it wasn't light sleep, as I woke up every half hour to turn over. Until I felt a chaste kiss on my lips but no weight on the other side of the bed like I wanted. Paul had arrived but hadn't lain down. I could hear his footsteps on the stairs followed by the jingling of Martha's paws. I was alone in that room and it left me feeling colder and longing for their company.

Wrapped in a blanket, I went downstairs feeling small and fragile. I didn't care that the king-size blanket I was wrapped in was dragging on the cold floor.

I heard the sound of piano notes in the living room, something between C Major and a murmuring voice. Paul rarely came home from work and continued working. It wasn't difficult, but Paul didn't like to bring work home. I thought he might be stressed enough not to lie down or not be sleepy.

I approached the piano, saw his figure with downcast eyes, long lashes brushing his cheeks. Paul hummed quietly, noticed my presence, and stopped playing, focusing his attention on me.

"Did I wake you, love?" he asked in an affectionate tone. His tired eyes opened wider.

"No," I replied sleepily, coming closer to him.

"Sit here." He tapped his left leg and made room for me to sit on his lap.

I sat, wrapped in that blanket. Paul adjusted his arms to give him mobility to play the piano keys in front of him, and I hugged him around the waist, snuggling against his larger body.

"S' Much better this way..." he said, his accent strong and drawling, his voice low and husky. I could feel the vibration of his voice and hear his heartbeats. I rested my chin on his shoulder, and he stole a kiss from me. His now-full beard tickled my cupid's bow.

This was what was missing. I felt so relaxed in his company. Paul continued to play the piano.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, my eyes were almost closing again.

"No, love. I came home with a melody pounding in my head." He answered, still playing the piano. He smelled of tobacco and herbs. He had been smoking more than usual, and I knew he was stressed. "I'm sorry for bringing work home. I don't have the lyrics yet, but the melody got stuck in my head because I played it at Twickenham before coming here. I was the last to leave the studio today."

"I'd never be upset with you for that. Y’know." I rubbed my face against his beard. "Can you show me the melody?" I asked, sleepy. Martha was already snoring at our feet.

Paul kissed my forehead and continued playing the piano, murmuring some words. I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"Once there was a way..." he sang softly, playing the piano with his leg rocking me to sleep. He was making up these lyrics, or I didn't have such a sharp taste in lullabies like that. "To get back homeward." He repeated the sung sentence, my eyes closing slowly. I felt like a child again. Paul warming the chilly room, the blanket wrapping us like a cloak. "Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry... And I will sing a lullaby."

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep there in his lap, listening to him humming that song. I felt at home and knew I was home.

"Sleep well, princess," he whispered, and suddenly I couldn't hear the musical notes he had played earlier on that piano.

- X -

i’ll take requests soon!

#paul mccartney headcanons #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney fanfic #paul mccartney #the beatles x reader #beatles fanfic #beatles #john lennon x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #john lennon headcannons #george harrison headcannons #ringo starr headcannons #the beatles headcanons #beatles scenarios #beatles fluff

[thedisablednaturalist]

I think what trips people up in the neurodivergent vs. physically disabled discourse is that you can't treat disabilities the same way as you treat LGBTQ+ identities. The goal for LGBTQ+ identities if for us all to one day be equal to cishet+ people. Someones gender identity or sexuality or race will not make them inherently more privileged or oppressed eventually. But with illnesses it's different.

I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user. I am disabled, but someone who is paralyzed is less privileged than me even though we both use wheelchairs and are disabled. For example, if I reach an area that is inaccessible, I can stand up and go around or remove the obstacle. It is not as easy for someone who is a full time wheelchair user. But we are still both disabled. Someone who has only ADHD and no physical disabilities is more privileged than someone with physical disabilities. Both people are disabled. However if the building is burning down, one person can take the stairs and escape and one person has to wait for rescue. And for the foreseeable future, unless there comes a day that prosthetics and medicine become so advanced there are no longer any negative aspects of disability (pain, illness, mobility, mental state), this will be the case.

And instead of trying to burst into the paraplegic support group and whine at them and throw a fit that they aren't talking about ME, I use my privilege to advocate for more accessibility in my town and at my college campus. Not that they aren't able to, but being able to mask my disability has put me in sort of a medium between abled people and the disabled community. I've been able to help so I do.

I am physically disabled, so I consider myself part of the cripplepunk community. I can do this because people look at me and label me as a cripple. People don't look at a mentally ill/neurodivergent person and do that. There are other descriptors used for neurodivergents if you would like to reclaim one of them.

Also, I consider myself neurodivergent as well. Some of you don't consider that people can be physically disabled AND neurodivergent. The barriers I faced with my neurodivergence and the barriers I faced with my physical disability are worlds apart. Both are challenging, but my physical disability has been harder. Does that mean I should ignore my neurodivergence? Does that mean neurodivergents should no longer be supported? Of course not! But in many cases, especially in modern times, mental health has made a ton of progress but it's left us physically disabled peeps behind. So please stop talking over physically disabled and chronically ill people and derailing the little support we get for yourselves. You aren't a cripple and you don't need to be one to be a part of the larger disabled community. You don't need to be a cripple to get support. In our society it's the opposite. We get left behind, ignored, our lives ripped from us. And yea, neurodivergents have this happen to them too but please understand that our pain has continued while neurodivergence is becoming more accepted.

I was able to get on meds so easily. I was screened for depression at my school. There were problems with this of course but they actually tried to seek out depressed kids and help them (even if it caused issues). Yes it costs money. Yes it may be harder outside of the states (or easier idk). But the same shit happens to us cripples as well and our mobility devices cost THOUSANDS out of pocket while meds cost hundreds at the most. My psychiatrist gave me a Zoloft prescription my first appointment and my rheumatologist laughed at me for wanting a walker.

We are tired and we are mad. We have a right to be angry at the mistreatment we've suffered. It's incredibly insulting to dismiss that pain. It's what our doctors do to us, our parents, our friends, our communities. Stop tearing us down to push yourselves further forward. If you truly want to get rid of any division in our community, help bring us up to your level instead of throwing a tantrum about the meanie cripples not letting you take our word that doesn't even fit you. It's insulting to want a word so bad that would never be thrown at you in the first place. It's like a cis binary queer person crying that they can't use the word tranny for themselves.

Please try to understand our pain and educate yourselves about history and experiences outside of your own diagnosis. Don't assume we have it easier because you see us. Most people don't.

#fibromyalgia #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #cripplepunk #any other physically disabled people feel free to chime in #abled people dont clown on this post #honestly there was such a stark difference in how i was treated when i disclosed my adhd/anxiety/depression/DID vs #when i started using a wheelchair #people reacted badly to both sides but reacted so much worse to the wheelchair

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 2

Azriel x reader

warnings: none

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“I can’t believe we get to be on the boat this year!” Bec was giddy that you had been invited to the High Lord’s Summer Solstice party. Talking about it nonstop since you told her.

“It’s not that big of a deal Bec, relax.” She threw a pillow at you “it is a big deal! We would never be going if the Shadowsinger didn’t invite us.” You smile as she mentions Azriel. He had been gone for a month on a mission and you were dying to see him again. “I can’t believe you still haven’t hooked up with him.” 

“Like it's inevitable?” Bec laughs and continues to apply her cosmetics “I think it’s inevitable for you guys, I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“And I’ve seen how he looks at Mor.” You recall all of the times in the last year you caught Azriel staring at her, a longing, faraway look in his eyes. “Mor?” 

“You’ll meet her today, she’s lovely and Az is totally in love with her.” Bec glanced at you from the corner of her eye, not believing a word. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The boat was massive. It stood four stories high. The first floor had many seating options, the second was where all of the food was, the third was a fully stocked bar and the fourth was an open air dance floor, complete with a band that would accompany the party all day. “I’m going to find Azriel, '' you informed Bec, who nodded and told you she would get a drink for the two of you.

You climbed the stairs, not having a clue where the Spymaster might be, when a pair of giant hands landed on your shoulders. “Y/n! Az is gonna be so happy to see you!” Cassian then pulled you in for a hug, nearly collapsing your lungs from the force. “Hi Cas, where is he anyway?” He pulled away and motioned for you to follow him. “How is your shoulder doing?” Rotating his arm to show you the improved mobility he says “good as new.” 

You are never surprised by him, or his injuries, but the way he seems to not care what comes his way boggles your mind. Like he enjoys showing off a new injury. Maybe it’s an Ilyrian thing. You walk up the stairs and it takes longer than it should to reach the bar since every two steps someone stops Cassian to say hello. Then you finally see him. Inky black hair and huge wings allow you to spot him easily. “There she is!” Bec waves you over and Azriel turns around to see you walking up. He smiles when he sees you running up to him, not wanting to wait a second more to hug him. 

His laugh wraps around you as his arms do. You pull away and frown at a line going down his cheekbone. “What happened there?” He doesn’t have to look to know what you’re asking about. “Just a scratch.” You narrow your eyes at him, sensing the lie. Just as you are about to scold him for being careless and for not using the healing ointments you give him, Rhysand appears with two bottles of sparkling wine and the party officially begins.  

You are dancing with Bec when a blonde joins you. “Bec, this is Mor. Mor this is Bec,”  you introduce the two and Bec, having gotten two drinks ahead of you blurts out “holy shit you’re stunning.” Mor laughs and you widen your eyes at your friend, trying to tell her to chill out. “Thank you, how have you been y/n? It's been months since you’ve been to the house” she’s swaying her hips to the music. Her hair catches the sun like a golden grown. Of course Azriel would pine for her, it was impossible not to. 

“I’ve been good. There was an outbreak in one of the schools by the Rainbow so I’ve been handling that while Madja attends to our regular patients.” Mor nods, “we’ve missed you. Come by whenever you’re free” she glances at Bec “you can bring her too, she seems fun.” Pink heat rushes to her cheeks as she blushes, also falling for the allure that is Morrigan. 

You're standing by the railing and looking to the Sidra, people on the shore as the Sun begins to set. Sweat had dried and left a sticky coat on your skin. Hours passed by on the dance floor and you did not notice. You breathe deep and a familiar midnight mist alerts you to Azriel approaching. 

“Tired so soon?” You chuckle “I’m just taking a break, I think Bec is trying to kill me.” She’s still dancing. Hadn’t stopped for more than a few seconds to sip whatever drink she was handed. To your surprise Mor still danced with her. “They seem to be having fun together.”

“Bec knows how to have a good time.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“Hm?”

“We met exactly one year ago today, remember?” You shake your head. “We actually met the day after Summer Solstice. It was way past midnight when we got to Rita’s.”

“That’s a technicality.”

“I’m grateful we met.” Over the music you didn’t notice that once again, his heart skipped a beat. “Me too.” You sidestepped until your arm brushed against his and leaned your head on his shoulder.  “You never told me how the date with the scribe went.” You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt. “I never told you for good reason, it was awful.”

His chest shook with a laugh “what made it so bad?” 

“Well after lunch he took me to the archives and I thought it was to make out but no. He gave me a tour and showed me the research on volcanic rocks he was developing. After an hour of listening to him drone on and on I left. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“Sounds like last Summer Solstice was the best date you’ve been on.” He laughed when you smacked him. “That was not a date, Azriel. It was a failed one night stand.”

“It only failed because you stopped it.” 

“You were having a panic attack!”

“So?”

“You’re ridiculous. Even if I put a stop to it that night you never tried to make it happen again.” Azriel turns his head to face you. “You’re not serious.” 

“What?”

“Why do you think I kept inviting you out?” 

“You mean to have dinner with Cassian, Rhys, Amren and Mor?”

“Yes.”

“I thought it was your way of friendzoning me.” His jaw slackened. “Well you were wrong.” 

“Let me get this straight, when I thought you were trying to gently reject me you were actually trying to woo me, or something?” 

“I guess so.”

You burst out laughing. “Az, sweetheart, you need to step up your game if you want to have a love life.” 

His head lowered close to yours “do you want me to take you out on a proper date then?”

You stay laughing and in between breaths say “gods no, we are better as friends. I meant for future reference.” 

“Ah, understood.” 

“Let’s dance!” Grabbing his hand you pull him back to the dance floor where the rest of the group was. 

“You’re wrong,” Bec startles you by wrapping an arm around your shoulders while you wait for your drink at the bar. “About?” She looks around to confirm the coast is clear “Azriel does not have a thing for Mor, at least not anymore.” You roll your eyes. Of course she would come to an incorrect conclusion after a day. You spent the last year getting to know the Inner Circle and knew, for a fact, that Azriel had feelings for her.

“How would you know?” 

“I just do…” she stole your drink and disappeared into the crowd.

After the ship docked everyone aboard rushed out, eager to continue the party on the streets. But you were moving much slower, because clinging to your side like her life depended on it was Bec. 

“Let me help you.” A sigh of relief escaped your lips as Azriel carried your mostly black out friend for you. “Thanks, Az.”

After Bec was snuggled up to a bucket on your couch you walked Azriel to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You forgot for a moment that Rhysand had scheduled a meeting with you in the House of Wind and Azriel offered to fly you. “Oh, right, yes. I can meet you at a cafe if you want to grab a bite before.” 

“That sounds great, I like the one just down the street. With the peach tarts?” 

“That’s a good one, I’ll see you then.” You pull him in for a quick hug. 

Before he lunges for the sky he winks at you “it's a date.”

#acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #rhysand #azriel x reader #azriel #azris fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar series #az x reader #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin

[lovinbarzal]

PERFECT | J. HUGHES

jack hughes x fem! zegras sister! reader

summary: in which jack and y/n break the only rule that trevor gave them.

a/n i love hockey. and the players. also ava doesn't exsist in this </3 sorry ava ily i swear!

masterlist part two

——————————————————————————

I found a love, for me. Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

"Jack's gonna be here so I need you to be gone." Trevor blurted. The three Zegras siblings were watching a movie in their living room.

"What the hell?" The girl exclaimed.

"I can't have you here, you're so embarrassing!" Trevor was quick to defend himself but was doing a shit job at it.

"Trevor, I live here. Where the hell would I go, you stupid fuckhead?" Y/n looked to her twin brother with her arms crossed.

"Anywhere but here." Trevor shrugged.

"Trev, you can't kick her out." Griffin stated making Trevor let out a groan. He, as well as Y/n, knew better than to argue with Griffin.

"Fine but you better not make goo-goo eyes at him." He turned to Y/n, "I'm serious."

Y/n scoffed before they all turned their focus back to the movie. What the hell was supposed to be so special about this Jack?

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet. Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

"I'm apologizing in advanced for my weird-ass sister." Trevor turned to Jack. The two teenage boys sat in the back of the 'Zegras Mobile'.

"Trevor Zegras, do not call your sister weird and don't say ass." His Mom scolded.

He held his hands up in defeat before turning back to Jack.

"And if you don't find her weird, you can't have her. She is off-limits to my friends." He said as Jack nodded.

"Trust me, Trev. This week is supposed to be about us not about your sister." Jack reassured.

"Good but I'm still serious. Do not fall for my sister." Trevor said seriously before Wildest Dreams came on. Trevor sang along...loudly.

If Trevor was weird like this than his TWIN sister would have to be way worse? Right? Jack thought to himself.

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Y/n rubbed the sleep from her eys as she walked down the stairs. She was wearing one of Griffin's old shirts that fit oversized as well as a pair of Trevor's pj pants.

She didn't notice the extra boy sitting at the table until she went to sit in her spot that had been taken by the mysterious boy.

The two made eye contact and it was almost instantly that they felt something. The moment was quickly interrupted by Trevor.

"Jack meet my gross and weird sister, Y/n. Y/n/n meet Jack." Trevor introduced as he poured himself more cereal.

"Hi." Jack said as Y/n stood awkwardly.

"Are you just gonna stand there like a loser all day or...?" Trevor questioned with a mouth full of cereal in his mouth.

"He's in my spot." The girl said looking at Trevor in disgust.

"Go sit next to Griffin." Trevor dismissed.

"Oh no. I can move." Jack said trying to move from his spot.

"No!" She exclaimed a little too loud, "I mean, it's ok. I can just go eat my breakfast in the living room."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before stealing the box of Fruit Loops from in front of Trevor. Who tried to snatch them back only to be to slow. Jack watched the whole thing go down but he kept his gaze on her.

Maybe not falling for his brother's sister was gonna be harder than he thought.

But darling, just kiss me slow. Your heart is all I own and in your eyes, you're holding mine

Y/n was currently in the living room watching TV when Jack came in to the room.

"Hi." He breathed out with a smile which she returned.

"Hey. Uh, where's Trevor?" She looked up at him from the couch.

"He's taking a shower and I got bored in his room." Jack answered honestly. Trevor was showering and he was bored but he was also hyping himself up to make a move. He told Trevor and himself that he wouldn't but his stay was coming to an end and he needed to get it off his chest.

The two stayed silent. Not an awkward silence but more of a who was gonna make the first move silence. It was Jack.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest. You're so beautiful and perfect. I've only known you like 6 days but they've been the 6 days of my life just because you've been in them. I know Trevor told me and probably you that we weren't supposed to fall for each other but what the hel-" He was cut off by Y/n standing from the couch and placing her lips on his.

I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person and she looks perfect

She looked perfect was the only thing going through his head when they pulled away.

"I like you too." She said with a sly smile before yet another moment was interrupted by the one and only, Trevor.

"Jack?" Trevor called from up the stairs. The two stood with wide eyes as they were brought back into reality.

They kissed. How were they gonna tell Trevor? They won't right?

They can't.

#jack hughes x reader #Spotify #jack hughes #nhl #nhl blurb #nj devils #hockey #jack hughes blurb #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #king of my heart au #lovinbarzal writings

[epigstolary]

Hi! 1) I love all your stories 2) I'm super happy to see that your asks are open because I've been thinking of a scenario lately

Someone who likes gaining but promised themselves they'd only gain a few pounds, just to try it out, see how they like it. Turns out they love it even more than they anticipated.

But as fun as rapid gaining is, it's starting to scare them how quickly the weight is piling on when they hit 100lbs gained after just a year. They promise themselves to slow down a bit now, but they no longer seem to be able to control their hunger.

If anything their gain speeds up.

Itchy, red stretch marks cover their ever larger belly. And if they weren't already in enough trouble, their mobility is starting to take a nose dive.

At first they'd just get out of breath a bit easier and maybe they'd find their legs were a bit stiff after a day lots of walking. The distances that would happen at got shorter and shorter. Within a scarily short time going up just one flight of stairs left them panting. Then needing to take a break just half-way up.

Other things got more difficult too. Finding clothes that fit, replacing furniture that didn't stand a chance against their increasing weight. 'The couch was ten years old,' they tell themselves, 'the frame had to crack eventually.'

Embarrassingly even masturbating has gotten harder. Not only has their belly grown so much as to cover their thighs, no there's also a thick fat pad, that's buried the very parts they're trying to reach.

And worst of all? It turns them on more and more with every passing day.

Love’s not really love unless it scares you a little, right? That’s been my experience in relationships, anyway. And the same goes for hobbies too. I love food. And… I even love getting fatter. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting a little scary.

I’m probably being silly, though. There’s no reason to be scared just because you’re the fattest person in your friend group, right? Even if it’s by a lot? No reason to be worried that you’ve outgrown all your clothes, twice over now. In about a year. It’s really common to not be able to exercise like you used to, too — nothing to be worried about. Even when you can’t make it upstairs all in one go. Or to the fridge and back without breathing heavily. Everyone’s broken a chair or a couch sometime, right? Isn’t that a silly thing to be concerned about?

It’d be different if I were one of those really fat people — then I’d need to be worried. If I had such a big belly I couldn’t reach the bottom of it. But I still can, if I bend this way and reach… see? Even if there is more fat in the way than there used to be. Or if I needed something to help me carry my weight around. But I don’t; and I’ve only fallen and needed help getting up once or twice. When I look at those really overweight people now, though… they don’t seem to look that much bigger anymore for some reason.

But I’m sure my gains will level off before I get that size. Won’t they? What am I saying, of course they will. Even if I can’t get over how afraid I am they won’t stop.

…or how much I love what I’m afraid of.

#fatvignette #fatfictionlightninground

[romeulusroy]

Dependence Pt. 3 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

Character/s: Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Logan

Word Count: 2,054

Warning: addiction, drugs, alcohol, death mention

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Idk how angsty this is on a scale of 1-10, but I can tell you it's actually very sweet and very heartbreaking. Baby Roy is going through it!!! I love them!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependency Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 4 / Dependence Pt. 5

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt One.

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt. Two

The first number you called was Logan’s. The next was Kendalls. The last was Connor’s. Slurred, sleepy, assuring him you were going to be okay. You would be okay because the shaking had stopped, you were warming up again, you were feeling better. You couldn’t keep your eyes open though, the lids too heavy. Curled into a ball in the booth, cradling a stranger's phone, slipping into unconsciousness. He said something, something that sounded sad, panicked. You were going to be okay, you felt so light. Your pulse is barely there. He yelled again, but it was incoherent. You were tired, the exhaustion setting deep into your bones. If you just put your head down, if you shut your eyes for a moment, then you could get some sleep. You’d be alright. The last coherent words from your mouth was an apology: I’m so sorry, I’m fucked up. I’m sorry. . . You were so light, so far away. It felt nice. No more anger. No more rage. No more self-hatred. Finally, you were free. Free from it all, free from him, from life. 

He peered over your crib, taking you all in. you were a few months old, just staring up at him. Your eyes are so wide, so new to the world. You slept in the nursery they’d all been in, though things were different. Boxes of things had been placed in the corners, on the floor of the closet, as if you were only a temporary guest. You reached up, cooing at the mobile. Zoo animals spinning round and round. Your mother and Logan off somewhere, doing something, unbothered by the little life they created. You were a quiet baby, as if you already knew what was coming, as if you could sense the irritation in your fathers voice every time you cried, hissing at your mother to quiet you down. Neither of them were fit for this kind of job, as young as he was, Roman could sense it. When your smile fell, he picked you up, out of the crib, and sat back in the rocking chair. A few whimpers was all you let out, as if you were already bottling it up inside. He remembers how small you were, how sorry he was. Not just for your father, your mother, the both of them terribly one minded, only ever thinking of themselves, but for this life as well. It wasn’t easy, that much he’d learned in his short life. It would never be easy. The money, the luxury, it helped, but it could only do so much cushioning. A fresh bruise throbbed over his eye. That day, in your cramped bedroom where it seemed like they put just about anything in, he made a promise to you. He’d never let you get hurt. He’d never let them hurt you the way they hurt him. You smiled up at him, all gums, like you knew what he was saying, like you were thanking him. It would not be an easy job. Pacing the floors of the emergency room, the realization struck him like a slap to the face: he failed. He failed you. He hadn’t protected you from anything, especially your father. He didn’t do what he’d promised you. 

You stood to the side of Shiv’s bed, blankie thrown over your shoulder. You were too frightened to wake her, not wanting to scare her, so you were as still as possible. Your breathing ragged from the nightmare, your cheeks still wet. Lately, you've been having one every night. Your room, without the toys, without the decorations, without anything, felt more like a prison than your bedroom. You were being punished again. Quietly, you tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs, to where their bedrooms were. The boys doors were shut, but Shiv’s had been left slightly open. You took that as a sign, taking the handle in your chubby little hand. Her room had looked the same since you could remember. She slept soundly on her side. Barely above a whisper, you called her name. Shivy? Over and over again until she stirred. She used to jump when you came in, when you woke her, but this had become routine the last few weeks. If it wasn’t her, it was Ken or Rome. One of them always woke up to you in their bed, unable to bear yours any longer. A nightmare, you’d confess. They’d nod, understanding all too well, making room for you beside them. She doesn’t say anything, wordlessly moving to the other side, opening the blankets. You climbed up next to her, making sure Blankie got there too. She let her arm fall on to you, holding you close. She’d always remembered the way you smelled. Sweet, sweaty, warm. Her face buried in your hair, tightening her grip. You were so small, so scared. She couldn’t fall back to sleep until she heard your shallow breathing even. You never had any nightmares with her. That’s what she thought of you when she saw you in that bed, how she was living a nightmare, that if she’d been there for you, if she’d let you climb into her bed, none of this would have happened.

He’d asked you to dance at your mothers wedding. It was one of the first times in a long time you weren’t drinking yourself to bed. She’d been married four, five times. It wouldn’t last long, they never did. You were just thankful she decided not to have anymore kids. Though, what did that say about you? He found you sitting at one of the many tables, watching everyone else dance. He held out his hand. It took you a moment to realize just what he was asking, shrugging before you stood, taking his hand. She’d invited your brothers and sister despite not knowing them very well, needing bodies to fill up chairs. She invited everyone she knew every time, though the guest list grew smaller and smaller with every debut. There were only so many last names a woman could collect before people stopped caring. She’d whined about it to you before she walked down the aisle, calling them ungrateful and selfish for ruining her day. She seemed happy now, swaying in the arms of another Logan-type, her veil lifted by the wind. Picturesque. He leads you to the dance floor, his hand on your back, the other in yours. Kendall seemed content, a rare occurrence for him. He looked nice, dressed in a lightly colored suit for the summer wedding, smiling down at you. You placed your head against his chest, taking him in, grateful for his presence in that moment. You hadn’t realized how unhappy you’d been, how taxing doing this all over again was. Your mother wasn’t the root cause for your problems, but she didn’t help. It felt like every day was her wedding day. Every day it was about her, her wants, her needs, and it was all a disaster. In the end she got what she wanted, in the end she was the only one left smiling. You caught him watching you think, unsure of what his mind was doing. He remembered it like it was yesterday. You seemed so grown up, so worn down. Not like the baby he remembered. He hugged you a little tighter, not wanting this moment to pass. Now it was too late. You looked so defeated, so young, it scared him. What could he have done to stop this? Surely there was something, something he could have done to prevent this. He never should have let you go. 

That night is burned into his memory forever. You were crying, sobbing into the phone. You were so scared, so alone. When he got the call, he moved without thinking. He got in the car and started driving, trying to keep you on the phone. You dropped a pin in the middle of nowhere. You were so tired. Not just exhausted, but you ached in the marrow of your bones. You were so done with this life, with everything. You’d hoped, in your moment of desperation, of sincerity, that your father would care. That he would come to your rescue, save you from yourself. Instead Connor pulled up to the sidewalk you’d been sitting on, opening the passenger side door for you. You wiped your tears with the palms of your hands, unable to say anything, to defend yourself, your actions. He didn’t yell like you were expecting, he didn’t ask a million questions or patronize you. Internally he was lost. Should he drive you to the hospital? Back to Dads? In the end, he brought you home, to his place. You wanted to thank him, to apologize for being such a mess, but all you could do was press your head against the cold window and cry. You weren’t sure what time it was, what day it was, the last time you slept. Days, probably. He grabbed your hand, the other on the wheel, rubbing his thumb against the back of it. That made you cry harder. Connor hated to see you like that. You were his baby after all. He squeezed your hand off and on, three times. I love you. You were small in his car, fragile, covered in bruises. The bags under your eyes were so dark, so painful looking. He’d never forget it, the way you flinched at the sight of him, like you were waiting for an explosion. He wasn’t angry or disappointed, he was petrified for you. If he could go back, would he have done anything differently? He’s not sure. Would changing anything have an impact now? You were sleeping, IV’s in your arms, wires stuck to your chest, the hospital gown hanging off you. You were skin and bone. The rings around your eyes so black, so bruised. He didn’t think you could look worse after that night, and yet, again, you’ve proved him wrong. He didn’t think it could get worse. He squeezed your hand three times, over and over again, so it would be the first thing you felt when you woke up. I love you. I love you. I love you.

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. That didn’t happen to you, not even when you were sure you were gone for good. Instead, it was your life that flashed before their eyes. All the best moments, the worst, the things they had and hadn’t done as older siblings, all their failings. Someone called an ambulance. They used Narcan and charcoal. You were covered in sickness, shaking, gasping for air. In and out of it, not wanting any of them to see you like this. It was you and the nurses, everyone else left to wait in the emergency room, trickling in as soon as they got there. You hadn’t slept in days, exhausted, sobbing. The nurses held you as you cried out, sucked from the blackness back to real life. Everything hurts. Everything stung. Everything you’d done came flooding back. Regret sat heavy on your chest. You were almost gone, so close. It was so light, so airy. You screamed, wanting to go back, wanting to be back there, in that booth, in the club, far away from here. The frustration at yourself suffocated you. It was inescapable. There was no running from it anymore. They gave you something to calm you down, letting you sleep. Finally, It wasn’t the same kind of floating feeling, but it was close enough. Your brothers and sister sat beside you, scared to touch you. You were so little, so broken. Of course you wouldn’t do well, they thought. Of course you shouldn’t have been left on your own like that. Of course this happened. Connor held your hand, the only one brave enough to touch you. They weren’t sure what they were going to do or say when you woke up, but they could feel it on the tip of their tongues: the sadness, the anger, the apologies, the hurt. They knew, whatever they did, they had to be there for you, like they’d been before. When you cried. When you had nightmares. When you were getting better and when you fell again. They’d be there for everything.

#writing #connor roy #connor roy imagine #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #logan roy #logan roy imagine #logan roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

want talk bit about different mobility aid give different access needs & limitations & barriers not all same just bc all mobility aid user

or mainly talk about canes & forearm crutch & manual wheelchair & powerchair because have not personal experience walker/rollator or others but people w walker welcome add.

n mainly talk about mobility aid itself because some thing mobility aid itself can theoretically do but some people disability or body cannot do n me not know all scenarios. n personal experience only, many variation within cane/crutch/manual wheelchair/powerchair. what may be true for say, my powerchair may not for other model powerchair.

canes small & easy get around space like tight space as long as body can fit cane can fit, and if there thing on ground like backpack on ground, it not super stop cane itself, can lift can put in tight space. can step over or go around small space (unless disability or body prevent)

but that much harder with wheelchair. there many space that even narrowest wheelchair not able fit—if manual wheelchair, even if chair itself may technically fit, functionally still not fit well because self propel scrape hand scrape arm. bariatric manual wheelchairs & most powerchairs tend be wider.

and wheelchair have much more limit for obstacle on path. if upper body strong in manual wheelchair, can pop wheelie over some obstacle like small curb (or rough terrain like grass n dirt), but even that have limit. like narrow path block by backpack on only path, cannot wheelie over that.

this issue in for example events with lots tables and (regular) chairs all over place and restaurants and stuff.

on road that slant to one side (left/right). canes itself not make unable do that, but again own disability may affect. slant road may feel weird with pair of crutches.

manual wheelchair probably most sensitive to slant road in my experience. even slightest tiniest smallest slant you cannot tell when walking, manual chair will slant toward the lower side instead go straight line. it very hard control. cannot stop mid way, even take hand quick second off wheels to brake is hard because chair move.

powerchair, at least more heavy ones not sure abt collapsible 50 lb ones, find actually easier time with slant. especially small slant like talk above, not really notice. can stop and just stay there and not slide.

BUT. if curb is slant, like straight road up until curb begin rise from middle of road to one side only, and only way go forward is go down curb. find manual chair okay handle, because more able control, but it will flip my power chair.

in general, personal find idea of flipping on side/over in powerchair lot lot scarier than manual chair. probably because powerchair bigger bulky heavier. also find many people who use those custom CRT powerchairs, flipping over will cause medical emergency because for lack better word, body already extreme fragile. many people in manual chair especially custom manual chair, tend have more abilities.

canes not inherent make you not able do stairs & escalators (although know many cane user who disability make hard do stairs).

wheelchairs, unless super fancy expensive rare insurance-won’t-cover stair climbing powerchair, cannot do stairs at all. need ramp.

some manual wheelchair user may be able do the trick to go on escalator, but that not possible for most if not all powerchair.

ambulatory wheelchair user maybe can get off and walk some. know some paraplegic who can get down n scotch up stairs. if in this catagory and use manual chair, maybe able drag or carry chair up stairs. but this tend be a lot more hard (unless like 10 people together) or downright impossible for heavy powerchairs.

many counters (like info desk, self serve dining, counter at bar, restroom sinks, etc) designed for typical height standing people. manual wheelchair & some power chair, not able reach. some powerchair have the rise function where can adjust height.

if have counter that shorter, may help wheelchair users (and probably people w dwarfism, but not have that cannot speak abt), but if that only option, know may cause issue for some people with cane who struggle bend back. unless have seat. but if have seat, know many wheelchair users prefer/can only stay in their wheelchair, so need move seat away.

and speak of seat. during time where limited seats and most people expect stand, wheelchair user bring own seat, so we actually fine. but know many people with cane n crutches, they the one need seat but not have one, so priority should go to them.

but seats on bus. don’t know how it like anywhere else, but place with public transportation bus i been at in US, most have the kneeling system (where they lower & put out ramp), seating in front where can lift up to fit wheelchair, and toward back there 1-3 step stairs up to more seating.

cane crutches not really limit you sit anywhere. if have trouble climb the 1-3 step stairs, then there still many seat before the stairs.

but wheelchair users. there only 1, at best 2, spot per bus for us, where driver have to lift up the seat. we cannot sit anywhere else. no place. situation like this is why have wheelchair priority and not just mobility aid priority.

for people who have both upper limbs & hands, and can use them. cane take up one, have one empty. crutches, if use pair, both hand taken. if self propel manual wheelchair, both hands (or alternative control, which may look like one hand wheelchair one hand white cane). if powerchair with joystick, one hand. for wheelchair user, have lap, but that vary in reliable depend on what is and different person & ability and condition of road (bumpy, etc).

in short is like. different mobility aid group have (some) different access needs & face (some) different barriers. sometimes when address barrier, sometimes need be specific about which mobility aid (eg wheelchair priority bus seating), because it may primarily affect some group of mobility aid and not the other.

in the wheelchair priority bus seating example give, where this is only place entire bus wheelchair users can sit, anyone who refuse move for wheelchair user is still take up space they shouldn’t, even if cane or crutches user. (if the rest of bus is full, & the cane/crutch user need seat, someone nondisabled need move seat).

#cripplepunk #cpunk #loaf screm #wheelchair user #wheelchair #mobility aid #cane #long post

[amournoir]

Fluff Prompt | E.M

℘ prompt — #12a, getting a massage {request}

℘ warning — fluff + slight nsfw?

℘ pairing — elijah mikaelson x f!reader

℘ count — 2.6k

It had been yet another long shift and as much as you’d like to pretend you were strong enough to handle it, you couldn’t. Every single day you’d complain about something new which wasn’t like you but you couldn’t help the problems that constantly arose. 

First it had been a new manager which meant a shift in positions and new rules that stemmed from it. Then it had been your licensure test that had been rescheduled for the unforeseeable future. Lastly, it was family. Wasn’t it always family? After months of therapy, your brother finally stood up to your parents – mother especially – and this created a shift in the family dynamic. Not one that you cared for because you were nothing but proud of him, it was about damn time come to think of it. 

So yes today had been a long day and all you wanted was to clock out, grab dinner on the way home, possibly shower, and pass out wherever you landed. Not five minutes after you had swiped your badge, your coworker came running down the hall calling after you. 

“Y/N! Y/N come back!” 

You didn’t even dare turn around. You figured if you ignored the problem or issue that was running toward you, it would just…disappear. Wouldn’t that be nice, you thought to yourself.

She finally stopped, one hand on a knee and the other over her chest as she bent over. In short sputtered words, she gasped “Y/N you-you’re, fuck, needed.” 

“I’m off the clock.” You calmly responded. 

“Well he’s asking for you.” 

You scoffed, “Whatever it is, get someone else to do it.” 

“Y/N L/N, don’t fucking make me run back there.” 

“You know the elevator was right next to you, right?” 

“So help me God–” She closed her eyes and mentally counted whilst you fought back a grin. 

You figured it’d serve you better to just see what he wanted rather than argue back and forth with your colleague who was heaving as though her life depended on it. With one hand on your right hip and your medical tote hanging on the dip of your elbow, you purse your lips and raise one eyebrow. 

“I’m embarrassed for you.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She quickly retorted. 

“Aren’t you a nurse?” 

“What of it?” 

“You’re winded from running down a hallway.” 

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.” 

You smiled, “I wouldn’t need to. Joan saw it too.” 

The lady at the front desk looks up and offers a knowing smile which makes the lines around her eyes more pronounced. Her hair was held up in a military style bun — tight enough to give anyone several migraines for days — you can take the woman out of the military but not the military out of her. With a very subtle nod, she returns back to her paperwork. You start to make your way back to his office when Joan speaks up suddenly. 

“Just like I see you take the elevator to go up one floor.” 

Your mouth made a noise that was half a scoff and a laugh. “So that’s how you get to places fast. Not the ridiculous lie of taking the stairs.” 

“I do take stairs!” 

“Gwen, love. Even if there was a fire, you’d still run to the elevator.” 

“That’s if she doesn’t pass out from the running itself.” Joan chided. 

Gwendolyn, Gwen, rolls her eyes and huffs a breath. “Screw you both.” 

After a 30 minute conversation with your boss, you finally left. Turns out it hadn’t been anything serious, he wanted to give you a heads up about the opening for the director of your unit. You graciously thanked him for it, you hadn’t even considered applying let alone being nominated for it. You didn’t want to make any decisions just yet either so you told him to give you some time to think. 

Currently you were waiting in the parking lot of the restaurant for your mobile order. You had requested that they bring the food to you rather than go inside to retrieve it yourself. You hadn’t even noticed the young man with the huge brown paper bag in hand as he approached your car from behind. You were fully entranced by the video on your phone of a tiny teacup puppy that was yawning. 

The knock on your window scared you enough to jump and accidentally honk your horn. Quickly, you started apologizing to the man as you rolled down the window. He stared at you quizzically and that’s when you realized you had been rolling down the back passenger windows, not the driver’s. Not your day is it? you thought to yourself. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m not normally like this.” Were the first words that poured out of you. 

The young curly haired man smiled politely and shook his head, “Ha, it’s alright. Here’s your food miss.” 

“Thank you so much…?” 

“Kevin miss.” 

“Thank you Kevin.” You reached into the cup holder and handed him a $20 bill. He was about to say something but you raised your hand and stopped him. “Have a good day.” 

“Thank you so much. You as well!” He smiled then pocketed the money and walked back to the restaurant. 

Almost twenty minutes later, you pulled into  your driveway and put the car in park. Gathering your tote, bag of food, and new tumbler mug, you exited your car and walked up the walkway to the front door. Before you could even reach for your keys, the door swung open and there he stood. 

Handsome as always but somehow today he seemed even more, perhaps it was the apron he wore or the rolled sleeves that made his muscles bulge. He took the brown bag from your hands and the tote that rested on your left shoulder. With a single step to the side, he welcomed you in and waited then closed the door behind you. 

You simply smiled then turned around to face him, leaning in to him. He was quick to respond and met you halfway with a soft kiss. The bags were held in his left hand whilst his right one cupped your cheek, gently caressing your skin. With reluctance, you pulled away but your eyes were still closed, a smile etched on your face. 

“You’re so beautiful darling.” He said as his fingers brushed away stray strands from your face. 

“Thank you. I needed that.” 

“The compliment?” 

“The kiss but yes that is always welcomed too.” 

“Look at me.” You did as told and opened your eyes. “You shall have that and more whenever you’d like my dear.” 

You couldn’t come up with a response so you opted to place a quick peck on his lips instead. “Can I steal pecks too?” 

“That’s the only sort of thievery I would entertain.” 

“The only?” 

He smirked, “Among others.” 

After your sweet greeting and short, but playful banter, you both made your way into the kitchen together. He quickly started emptying out the bag and plating your food. You decided to put away your dirty dishes from work and then washed your mug. You finished just in time to watch him put the plates on a tray then slid it into the oven. 

Confused, you asked, “Why are you cooking them?” 

“I prefer if your food wasn’t cold so I plan on leaving it there to warm.” 

“Oh.” You wiped your wet hands and returned the towel back on its rack. “I thought we were eating now.” 

He just smiled and offered his hand for you. “I have other plans for us.” 

“Ohhh.” You couldn’t hide the mischievous smile slowly growing on your face. 

“Not that sort my dear.” He chuckled as he took notice of your slight frown. 

You placed your hand into his and he led you out of the kitchen and down the hallway, towards the direction of the bedroom. “Eli, are you sure it isn’t that?” 

“It could if you wish it to be but not necessarily.” 

Once you were in the bedroom, it took you a moment to notice your nightwear spread out on the bed. You glanced over at your table and your skincare products were lined up in order ready to be used. He let go of your hand and motioned towards the adjoined room. Obediently, you walked across the room and entered the bathroom. You let out a very soft audible gasp at the sight in front of you. 

There was a tray over the tub with several items on it. Your favorite glass of wine, a bowl filled with grapes, a book that you kept saying you’d read but never got around to it, and a small remote. You walked further into the room and headed straight for it, your fingers excited to press it. At first nothing happened but then a soft melody started to play and the lights completely shut off but were replaced with fairy lights that somehow made the room magical. 

You smiled and turned, wanting to return to him but he was already at the doorway looking at you. Instead of words, you headed over and wrapped your arms around him. He didn’t need to hear your lips say a thing because your heart already spoke on your behalf. The calm beating in your chest let him know exactly how you felt. 

With a soft lingering kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbed up and down your back. You never wanted to leave his arms and he could tell so he let you stay in his embrace until you were ready. Ten minutes later, you were undressed and soaking in the huge tub. Your head was leaning against its back, your nostrils filled with the light lavender scent that floated around the pitch black bathroom, the only light was emitted from the fairy lights that blinked every so often and together with the soft music made for a perfect ambience. 

You don’t remember how or when but you had been there for a while, you only noticed when you felt a slight breeze. Opening your eyes, you glanced over at the door and sure enough he was standing there silently watching you. 

“I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“It’s quite alright, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t drown to death,” he said with a smile. On the floor, next to the tub, there was an empty wine glass and a quarter empty bottle. 

You slowly sat up and let out a soft chuckle, “Wouldn't be a bad way to go.” You outstretched your arms and rolled your neck, “I felt absolutely fantastic, thank you.” 

He walked into the room, crouched down to your level, and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “My pleasure. Now, shower then dress and meet me downstairs for dinner.” 

“Sir yes sir.” 

Half an hour later you had rinsed off the bodily oils, showered to fully cleanse yourself, and were dressed in your silk pajamas. You lowered your head down close to your knees and bunched up your hair then tossed your head back and tied that dark brown mess into a bun. Once everything was neatly put away, you slipped into your house slippers and made your way down the stairs. 

“It smells divine in here!” You exclaimed as you got closer to the kitchen. 

“In here dear.” His voice came from the dining area. 

You turned the corner and saw the spread in front of you. The food you had picked up earlier was plated and so were the drinks minus the alcohol. You happily went to take a seat but he was faster than you, in mere seconds it was pulled out and you were pushed in with a towel on your lap. 

Dinner went swimmingly, few words were exchanged about your individual days then a comfortable silence enveloped the room. An hour later, you both cleaned up together to store away the leftovers and tidy up the dining room and kitchen. 

“All right, I think that’s everything then,” you said as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel. 

He held up a finger and just then a beeping noise went off. He poured the liquid into two mugs then turned to face you. “Follow me.” 

“You know, you’re quite bossy today.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yes but it’s hot so don’t stop.” You give a sly smile then make a head start back to your shared room. 

He finds you seated on the bench – that’s at the edge of the bed – with your legs crossed and your fingers drumming on the wood. Once he’s inside, he kicks the door closed behind him and you smirk instinctively. 

“You’ve wined me, dined me, and got me in here…” You get off the bench and crawl backwards towards the headboard, “…what’s next?” 

He grins at your implications then says, “Unbutton your shirt and lay face down on the bed.” 

“Ooh I like where this is going.” You do as he says and soon your exposed chest is greeted by the warmth in the room. 

“Don’t turn around.” 

“Just in case you’re wondering, I’m totally okay with spanks.” 

You hear his chuckle then the lights are turned off, silence follows then there’s some ruffling and finally the bed dips. You can’t see a thing, the only light is coming from the moon outside so you have to rely on your ears. You feel his bare legs on either side of you, straddling from behind. 

A bag of some sort unzips then out comes a bottle, maybe two? Shake. Click. Squeeze. Squirt. A coldness drips down the middle of your back and you accidentally jerk forward. His hands are quick to smoothen out the gel which immediately warms up. His fingers find their way up to your shoulders and slowly roll in the valley near your neck. 

Soon after he picks up the intensity and digs his fingers into your lower neck area, a sigh leaves your lips. After a while his hands slide down to your sides, his fingers massage the fat around your hips lovingly. Giving them a pat afterwards. His hips lift up slightly and he pulls your pajama pants down to your knees. 

He leans forward towards your head and whispers in your ear, “Still with me my dear?” 

“Hmm? Yes.” You responded groggily, you had started to fall asleep. 

He slides one hand up from the base of your back to the sides of your breasts and with little to no effort, his hand gets underneath and gently caresses your breasts. He rolls each nipple between his fingertips, pinching harder to garner your attention. You moan softly then very slowly move your hips around. 

His other hand expertly removes your underwear then a quick slap is introduced to your ass. This action jolts you fully awake. He switches to the other side and another slap but this time your hips lift up closer to him. 

“Eli please.” You whined softly. 

“Darling I could’ve sworn you said you wanted spankings.” 

“I do so…more?” 

“Mm no.” You could envision his head shaking. 

“But– it’s too good…” 

“Your ass looked marvelous, it was too tempting not to. Now that’s done, go to bed.” 

“Tomorrow then?” At this point you were grasping at straws. 

“Sweetheart the day I spank you as I ride you from behind, I’ll be sure you’re wide awake.” 

You throbbed at the lewd idea but smiled at the promise. He pulled your pants back up and used his vampiric gifts to clean your back and dress you in his shirt. He kept vamping around the room as he cleaned up the items whilst you got under the covers. After it all, he joined you and without another word, you pulled his body closer to yours. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you inhaled his scent that drifted you off to sleep. 

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#request 💌 #aurora's writing prompts #fluff #aurora.r fics #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #the mikaelsons #the originals

[sarcasticbabywhispererjess]

*trigger warning* For those not in the headspace to see about grief and pets just skip this one.

Isis has been declining health-wise over the last year or so, more severely the past couple of months. I honestly wasn't sure she was going to make it into the new year or her birthday (a week ago). The only reason she's even been eating the last few months is because I've been making her chicken and eggs with toast and cheese twice a day. Occasionally she'll be hungry enough to eat a little dog food, but it has been rare. But the fact that she still wants to eat a majority of the time gave me solace.

Her mobility has also gotten worse. Specifically her back end. She struggles to get up on the couch... and stay on the couch when she lays down too close to the edge (she just slides off onto the floor if I don't manually move her over). Our walks are really slow going (30-45mins/mile). The last couple of days she's really been struggling and has been pretty agitated too. Just walking in circles. Yesterday I think she was doing that outside and she fell off our little patio into a small garden plot. She couldn't get herself up alone. I gave her trazodone Monday night because she was so agitated. For some reason this kills her mobility, so I had to carry her up the stairs to go potty even in the morning.

I don't mind doing all of these things for her (I haven't even mentioned the amount of indoor potty accidents I've had to clean up... which also sometimes include a bath) because I love her. But I don't think she's even remotely having a good time anymore. I thought when she stopped eating, I'd know. Or when she wouldn't go for walks, I'd know. People have been telling me that I'd know when it was time. She's still eating and going for walks, but she's so agitated at night (sometimes during the day) and just seems like she's not having a good time.

So I think it's time. Time to let her go. Which is hurting my heart so much to even think about. I know it is an act of love to stop her suffering, but to suddenly be without my only constant companion of almost 16 years is going to be so hard. I know it is selfish to be thinking of my own comfort in this situation, though I doubt it is all that unique of me.

I emailed my vet last night about the situation and they replied this morning asking me when I'd like to come in. I've been crying and torturing myself about the decision for the last two hours. To think that this time Friday or Saturday she'll be gone depending on my decision. I considered maybe we could just wait until after I finish my work week. But that means the earliest we'd probably do it would be Thursday of next week. Would it be fair to Isis to make her suffer for another week just for me? I don't think she's in any considerable physical pain, but mentally she's doesn't seem great. Like her doggy dementia is also getting worse. I considered maybe she had another UTI, but she doesn't have any other symptoms.

If I'm honest, I think in the back of my mind I'm hoping that if I wait maybe she'll just pass on her own and I won't have to make the decision. I've been back and forth between emailing the vet to set a date and emailing to say I want to wait until next week. I don't know what to do.

This venting/trauma dump has gone on way longer than I had planned. No decision has been made, but I've cried many more tears.

#dog #geriatric dog #grief #unedited #i can't read through this again #i have a headache from crying

[starg1rlie]

sigh.

this was probably the fiftieth sigh that zhongli had let out. he's been trying for the past fifteen minutes to feed his daughter, and it has only ended in successful failure. zhongli could already feel a migraine coming on, and it wasn't even afternoon yet.

"come now, ju, you must eat," zhongli murmured gently, already scooping out another spoonful of sunsettia mush (he personally had mashed the sunsettias himself, after checking its ripeness, of course. he only wanted to feed the very best fruits to his daughter, after all), making incomprehnsible noises as he wiggled the spoon to his daughter's pouty lips.

"no!" she flailed her arms out and smacked the spoon away from her, giggling in glee when the mush splattered against zhongli's face, even going so far as to clap her hands together happily. he heaved yet another sigh and dug into his pocket for one of his handkerchiefs, dabbing at his face before folding it neatly and tucking it away under his vest. he'd long shed his dress jacket to avoid any sunsettia stains (those were terrible to wash out and he was incredibly fond of this specific jacket), and he'd had to roll his sleeves up to avoid any other messes.

"嬰兒, please, you're torturing me. you must eat. your mother would most likely strangle me if she were ever to find out i'd let you starve." his chest tightened at the mention of his significant other; the pain was still fresh. it'd only been two months now, what else could he have expected?

ju gurbled, sticking two fingers into her mouth, suckling on them curiously. she'd only been a tiny infant around the time you passed away, so she prorbably had no idea who zhongli was even talking about. perhaps it was better this way. eventually, though, he'd have to tell her the truth about her mother, even if it grieved him.

"eat. it's good for you. i promise. just finish this bowl and i'll tell you a story," zhongli promised, tentatively raising the silver spoon back to ju's lips, his eyes closed in expectation of another spoonful of sunsettia mush being flung at him.

he waited. nothing happened.

cracking an eye open, zhongli watched as ju cooed softly, "chewing" through the mush and swallowing. he let out a relieved sigh, and continued to feed her spoonful by spoonful till the wooden bowl was empty, and ju was already nodding off. she had the habit of becoming drowsy whenever she ate, and in his personal opnion, he found it quite adorable. it also made him a bit sad; you used to be the exact same way, and zhongli would end up tucking you into bed like a little child.

"爸爸愛你，你知道嗎?"zhongli whispered against ju's ear, wrapping his arms around her tiny body and picking her up, tucking her into the crook of his arm. "mommy loved you too. so, so, much." zhongli poked ju in her stomach, which she gurgled at happily. "would you like to take a nap, ju?" he inquired softly, already treking up the stairs to his bedroom, peering down at her warm honey-gold eyes. people say she looked more like him than you, but he knew better. ju's personality and yours were one in the same, no matter how people saw it.

he lay ju down into her crib, ducking his head down to avoid tangling his hair through the dragon mobile that hung over it (you'd crafted it yourself, with some help of course, mainly because you were obsessed with zhongli's dragon form), letting his warm, calloused hands remain around ju's waist for a tiny bit longer before letting the fabric of her clothes slide past his fingers. "good-night, ju," he whispered against her forehead, pressing a chaste kiss against her temple before closing the curtains to block out the sun's rays.

"bye-bye," ju mumbled, wiggling her fingers at zhongli through the crib as he retreated.

"bye-bye," zhongli repeated, quietly shutting the door behind him.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #( ﾉ ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ leeo writes!

[the-cannibal]

All sinclair brothers reaction if the reader were to leave them or threaten to leave them!!!? 😋😋😋

Ooooh interesting! I love this idea!

Sinclair brothers reaction if the reader threatens to leave them

Gender neutral - they/them and you is used

I did them separately since you didn’t say if you wanted poly or not so I hope you like this!

Written on mobile so I apologize if its laid out strangely

Bo Sinclair

Oh honey, this man is pissed with a capital P

So it’s no secret Bo has his issues, and due to that comes his anger. And the anger of Bo can be quite scary.

Now while Bo tries not to unleash his anger on you sometimes his trauma wins, which ends in him shouting at you, throwing things near you, calling you horrible things and saying horrible things, etc etc. And one day you just had enough of it.

You slammed your hands on the dinning room table, hot tears streaming down your face as you looked up at that man you so dearly loved with pure anger. “I’m so sick and tired of this, Bo!” You screamed at him. “Yes you have every right to be mad about your childhood!” You got up close to him and jabbed your finger at his chest. “But do NOT ever take that out on ME! I’ve been with you through thick and thin and I’m getting real sick and tired of getting insulted as a payment!”

Bo glared down at you, his lip curled back. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that!” He screamed back at you. “This is my goddamn house! You don’t get to tell me how I act inside it!”

And that was what finally broke you.

You stepped back with a sigh, still glaring up at the man. “You know what, Bo?” You mumbled, making your way towards the front door and digging your car keys out of the little dish. “You’re right. It is your house. Yours and yours alone, because I’m fucking done.”

And you left. You could hear Bo screaming and throwing more things as you drove away. You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t care as long as it was away from him.

A few days later Bo found you at an old motel, hat in hand, looking down like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Darlin,” He mumbled. “Please come back.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the cracked old door frame. “Why should I? I meant what I said, Bo. I’m fucking done with your bullshit.”

Bo sighed. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry, okay? I’m an asshole. And I don’t deserve you. But please, just give me one more chance. I promise i won’t mess it up.”

You looked him in the eyes, seeing shame and embarrassment. But also honesty. So you let out a sigh and stepped out of your room. “One more chance. One. And I mean it, Beauregard. You so much as look at me the wrong way I’ll be gone.”

Bo let out a sigh of relief, kissing the palm of your hand before placing it on his cheek. He got another chance, and he was going to do everything in his power to not mess it up.

Vincent Sinclair

Hurt. He would be so hurt if you ever threatened to leave him.

“Vincent do you wanna go for a walk with me and Jonesy?” You wrapped your arms around his neck as Vincent was bent over working on smoothing the wax over a body. He said nothing. “Vincent?” You said his name again. “Are you listening to me?”

Once again you got no response from him. It’s been like this a lot recently. And you hated it. You huffed and began walking away from him, calling Jonesy to follow you up stairs. Perhaps dinner would get him out of his shell…

Vincent didn’t come up for dinner again.

And that was the last straw. You stormed down to the basement, seeing him working on the same person. You crossed your arms with a scoff. “Seriously? You’ve been working on that thing all day. I’m starting to think you think it’s more important than spending time with your partner!” Vincent didn’t say anything to you. And that broke you. “You know what? Fine! Stay down here for the rest of your life for all I care! Hell why don’t you date that thing since you seem to love it so much! Far more than me! I’m leaving.” You turned to storm back up the waxy stairs, only to have a rough calloused hand grab your wrist. Vincent looked up at you, you could see his eyes practically bulging out from behind his mask.

“Oh so you finally decide to look at me! We’ll take a picture buddy, it’ll last longer. I’m out of here.” Vincent shook his head at you and shakily raised his hands to sign. ‘Please don’t leave!’

You scoffed. “Why? Vincent I hardly see you anymore. Do you know how I feel? I feel hurt, I feel un loved.”

That broke his heart. Here stood his partner as tears threatened to leave their eyes as they got closer and closer to leaving the room. Leaving him for good. ‘I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been ignoring you.’ He tossed his wax covered apron onto the floor. ‘I’ll stop working for a while, I’ll spend time with you. I’ll take you wherever you want, do whatever you want. Just please don’t leave me. I love you.’

Sighing you pulled him up to your step and kissed his masked cheek. “Alright mister. You can make it up to me by taking me out to the lake for a picnic dinner.” Vincent vigorously nodded at that. “But I swear, Vincent, if you do something like that again I won’t be held back. We’re partners, not roommates.”

He took your hands, nodding his head and pressing his masked lips to your forehead. He learned his lesson, and he won’t forget it.

Lester Sinclair

Scared. Terrified. He loves you more then all the stars in the sky and he made you want to leave? He’s going to do everything he can to convince you to give him another chance.

“Let go Lester.” You glared at the man who was holding your suitcase down.

“No!” He shouted, sweat rolling down his forehead. “Look I know I messed up, and you can be as mad at me as you want. But please think about this, darlin!”

You practically growled at him. “I HAVE thought about this!” You yanked the suitcase out of his hands. “Maybe you should think harder before you go and flirt with other people!”

“They were visitors! I didn’t actually mean any of it! I was just trying to… grease em’ up a bit! Make them trust me more!”

Your head snapped around at that. “Seriously?! You have a goddamn partner, Les!” He looked down in shame, he knew you were right. “I don’t care if Bo flirts with them because I’m not dating him! But I AM dating you! Or so I thought…”

He fell to his knees and gripped the sides of your pants. “Please, darlin, give me another chance! I won’t do anything like that ever again! I’ll do anything you want!”

“Anything?” You questioned.

“Anything! I’d burn this whole town down if you asked of it! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t wanna lose you!”

You stared down at him in thought before finally crouching down and wiping away his tears. “Flirt with anyone that isn’t me and I’m out of here faster then you can say roadkill.”

He fell into your arms in violent sobs. That was the most scared he had felt in a long time.

#bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #request

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

D O P A M I N E

Chapter II

182 days earlier.

With his face all serious and fully focused on securely guiding the tiny hand into the tiny sleeve, he just sits there on the little rocking chair in the middle of the nursery room. A six month old baby on his lap, his tiny head gently leaning against his chest. The little baby hiccups once, and it makes him smile. He lowers his head to press a gentle kiss onto the bald head. A natural reaction towards anything that this little human does these days. He just can’t help it. 

“Are you having the hiccups again, darling?” he whispers to his son, satisfaction on his face when he finally manages to have both tiny arms gently covered in the teddy-textured romper that Taylor’s friend got him last week. Of course, the little hood has two cat ears. People do know whose child this is, after all, when getting them baby presents.

“Baby? Do you know where we put the USB cable for his little travel mobile?” 

Just when Matty turns the little real-life teddybear on his lap around to face him, he hears Taylor yelling up the stairs. Matty decides to open the zipper of his romper a little more. After all, they’re still not ready to go and he doesn’t want him to get too warm or even sweaty in his onesie. His mother lectured him just last week how dangerous it is for babies at his age to get ill, just from sweating and being exposed to cold winds when outside. He carefully removes the little hood from the bald head, can’t help but smile at the big green eyes staring at him in curiosity. The little man hiccups again. He smiles. Matty knows that Marly is a little miniature version of himself. It’s the shape of his mouth, his stubborn forehead as well as the shape of his hands are just a copy of himself. But the one thing he can’t deny is the fact that he’s got Taylor’s eyes. The same pure, beautiful eyes he knows so well - directly in the baby’s face. He would’ve loved for his son to have more features from his mother, but it seems that this little man will have to live with a majority of his father’s genes. The poor thing. 

Matty steals the chubby cheek one last kiss, then slowly gets up with his son on his arm. He takes a few steps outside of the nursery room, finds Taylor standing down there, right at the beginning of the staircase. She looks stressed. Stressed, and tired and he can’t even blame her. They both didn’t get any sleep last night, again. Partly because the little boy in his arms was crying because of his tummy ache, and partly because this is officially the first time they’re going to be traveling with Marly on a plane and it makes Taylor more nervous than anything else. She just stands there, as beautiful as always. Her curly hair in a loose bun, just patiently waiting for him to give her an answer that she can work with. 

“Have you tried the bedroom? I think..”

“No it’s not there.” she replies, ready to become as dramatic as always when she’s late for a flight and looking for something in the very last minute. 

“What about..” 

“Found it, honey!” Andrea yells from the other end of the living room, and Matty has to laugh at Taylor’s face, gently presses one last kiss onto the little head on his arms before walking down the stairs, just watches his wife roll her eyes over the fact that, as so often, her mom is a life saviour in anything baby-related. 

“Thank god we have grandma, huh?” he whispers to the little bundle in his arms, then comes to a stop at the end of the staircase and leans in to press a sluggish but happy kiss onto Taylor’s lips. He finds himself as so often in this domestic bliss he used to be so disgusted by. Being parents and doing parenting stuff. Sleepless nights not from clubbing, but from calming a crying baby. Things he used to despite, only to now find that it was all he ever needed. A family with the only person he ever truly loved. A home. Being needed. In a real way. In a purposeful way that he’s never known before.

Still annoyed by the fact that it was her mother who found the USB cable, Taylor just sighs, steals the little boy on Matty’s arm a tiny kiss before continuing to pack in the kitchen. Andrea places the cable next to Taylor, then approaches the two boys at the end of the staircase, smiling widely at the little boy in Matty’s arms. Matty just laughs at Andrea’s face. It’s interesting how every grown person suddenly lights up by the sight of this baby in the house.

“Oh my god Taylor, where did you get him that little bodysuit?” Andrea says in a giggle, both her hands already on the little bald head covered in the cat-ear hood, her lips wandering gently to the tiny forehead. She signals Matty that she can take him for a second and he agrees before allowing her to gently take the baby from him.

“I got it from Martha, actually. Isn’t it so adorable?” Taylor laughs at her mother, who’s already busy showering the baby in her arms with kisses. Taylor takes one last look at her phone just to check the time. 11:21 am. Ten more minutes before they really need to leave the house if they want to catch their flight. Standing in her kitchen, right in front of the counter, she unzips the bag full of tiny empty bottles, counts them one last time before closing the bag again. She unlocks her phone once more, looks at the list of things they need to bring.

“Baby?” she yells a second time today, almost startles as she feels his hands on both her arms from behind within a split second. She turns her head to the side, has to giggle a bit about herself, just like he does. 

“m’ right here, no need to yell.” he teases, moves his arms now to hug her tightly from behind, before pressing a big kiss onto her left cheek. 

“Sorry, I’m stressed.” 

“Oh really? No one can tell.” he says with a smart smile, feels her protesting in his arms because she can’t keep packing without having her arms available. Matty gives her one last kiss right on the soft cheek he loves so much, and finally lets her go. She just passes him the big nursery bag, together with the little toddler backpack that Marly’s still too little for. But she loves this little backpack. It’s green and has Paddington the bear stitched onto the outside. A present from Matty’s mother. The perfect carrier to fill with Marly’s favourite toys. Matty takes it from her, leans in for another kiss. He’s a bit clingy today, and she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t hesitate, places her hand on his cheek for a second and gives him a quick but gentle kiss before he disappears outside to give the bags to the driver. 

Just in that moment, almost like automatism, loud baby cries are to be heard in the air. Taylor has to laugh at another sound coming from the end of the living room, which is where her dad is sat at, naturally replying to Marly’s sharp cries with a loud and clear “oh no, my poor buddy”. A normal grandpa reaction to whenever those heart wrenching baby cries are audible in the house. But Taylor is used to this. Whenever Matty leaves the room and Marly sees him physically leaving, he starts crying loudly. A normal type of attachment anxiety that is normal for this stage in his development, as her pediatrican assured her just a few weeks ago. 

“Oh, my sweet boy.” Andrea already soothes him, but the little face is red and teary. Someone is certainly not happy right now. 

“Daddy is just bringing the bags to the car, honey.” Taylor laughs, already approaching her son, taking him gently from Andrea and right into her arms. Within a second, her hand is on his head, her lips on his cheeks and the baby calms down again. He knows his mother well. Nothing can make him calm down faster than she can. 

“I think we’re good to go?” Taylor says then after having calmed her baby a bit, rubbing his back up and down. 

“Are you excited for Houston? Mhm? Your first big trip on a plane? Goin’ to Texas?” Andrea says to Marly, putting on her best Texas accent and making Taylor laugh. Andrea’s baby voice is something new she discovered after her son came into her life. Marly however, looks unimpressed at his grandmother. He has no idea what he’s in for, it seems.

“What did I just hear? My boy’s tearing up?” they both hear Matty yelling in a thick accent from the hallway, making both her and Andrea laugh. Taylor looks down to her son, whispers a gentle “Is that daddy?” into his ear. She feels nothing but love in her bones, by witnessing how the baby’s face changes as soon as his dad is in sight. The grown man is hiding behind the winter jacket that he’s holding up with both hands, playing a very bad and obvious version of hide and seek with the baby. With every ‘boo’, the little boy on her arms squeaks a little louder, and it makes Taylor cackle. He loves his dad more than anything. It’s hard not to notice.

“Is your daddy being silly again?” she grins, gladly hands him to his father, who just dramatically presses his nose into the tiny neck, breathing that baby smell in, deeply. 

“When has daddy not been silly? That’s the actual question to ask.” he says to both Marlowe and Taylor, makes her just shake her head with a grin on her face. 

_______________

With her head turned around, she takes one last look at her parents, has to laugh quietly at the sight. The little carrier with the sleeping baby is placed securely between the two grandparents yet both of them still seem to not trust the seatbelt that is wrapped tightly around the maxi cosi. Scott’s hand is still on the hood of the carrier, whilst Andrea takes a look at Marly every few minutes, just making sure the baby’s still asleep and happy before going back to reading her book. 

“Your parents are more intense than our entire security team, you know that?” she hears him say from the seat right next to her, immediately has been able to read her mind as so often. She breaks a smile, doesn’t deny what he just said. In his grey shirt and his curly hair tucked back as always, Matt just sits next to her, still focused on his phone where he was just answering a few emails from Ross and Jamie. She looks at his face, notices the little familiar frown on his forehead and eyebrows whilst staring at his phone. His hair is a mess, as per usual. But she loves is that way. The little grey hairs in between his brown curls still make her laugh to this day. He used to hate his grey hair but she’s glad he learned to embrace it in the past years. Taylor swallows. She doesn’t like that empty look in his eyes, that she’s witnessed so often these past weeks. She can feel this pain radiate from him. She knows him too well to think that he’s dealing with this as good as he pretends to be. Taylor reaches for his left hand, forces him to continue typing only with the other one. He notices her gentle gesture. Their hands now intertwined. Her small thumb drawing circles on the back of his hand. One look into her face is enough and his emails are so unimportant all of the sudden. She signals him that she wants to be close to him right now. Their noses almost touching as he leans his head further down, just to steal her soft lips a gentle kiss. 

This is how it was always supposed to be. The two of them together. Against the rest of the world.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. Just quiet enough to ensure that no one else on the plane takes part in their conversation. Taylor just nods, takes a deep breath and leans her head against his shoulder to kiss him once, right over his incredible smelling shirt. Nothing can compare to his smell. Nothing. She looks into his eyes one more time, and he understands that she can tell immediately what’s going on. Even if he tries, he can’t hide anything from her. 

“Are you okay?” she whispers then, and he turns his head to focus on his phone again. Taking a deep breath, Matt nods. If there’s one thing he promised himself not to do, then it’s putting his dark thoughts and feelings onto Taylor and the family they built. After all, Taylor’s wellbeing is still the center of his attention right now. Not only did she give birth to his son earlier this year, but also carries his second child right under her heart, already. The most beautiful secret he could’ve ever hoped to carry with himself over the holidays. And he knows how exhausting being a parent to a baby is already. Even without the early symptoms of pregnancy. She handles it so beautifully, never complains, still manages to get everything done at the end of the day with a smile on her face. Being a new mother, being a great partner, a good daughter, an excellent friend and above it all, an artist. If one thing is for sure, it’s that they both will never be able to stop creating. Not just humans, but also music. All of this at the same time. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to show her these other thoughts on his mind, ever since the day he got the call. Ever since the day he found out that one of his oldest friends had died after a long battle against the same substance that almost took his own life, years ago. They weren’t close anymore, lost contact for quite some time already. But nevertheless, receiving these news was just another reminder of reality. The reality that his own battle with addiction had almost taken his own life, too. 

He notices how his thoughts drift away, just until he feels Taylor’s hand softly stroking his up and down. Her gaze is still fully focused on him, both her hands around his, her thumbs drawing circles on his skin. 

“Hey..” she whispers then, picking him up from his train of thoughts. He looks at her again, forces a smile, and leans down to kiss her bangs. She shouldn’t worry about him. The last thing she should do right now is worry about him. 

“I’m good, my love. Don’t worry.” he says quietly, his free hand now busy fixing the little strand of hair behind her ear, that always falls out of her little bun. She nods, but he knows she doesn’t believe him. 

“I think when we’re in London over Christmas, we should go see Trevor’s mom and his sister. Would be nice for them to meet Marly, don’t you think?” she says, but his reaction tells her that he’s not having it. 

“Definitely not.” he says, his face now stuck on his phone screen again. She’s confused, to say the least, but doesn’t let this one go right away. 

“Why? I’m sure they’d feel so supported knowing that you…”

“Tay, we’re not doing that. I haven’t seen them in years and it’ll stay this way.” he says, a stone-cold tone in his voice that almost makes her shiver. She hasn’t experienced him reacting like that in quite a long time. But she’s not surprised. The news of his childhood friend passing has been tough on him. She just wishes he would talk to her about it, or open up to her brother, or George. Just anyone. 

“Why do you not want to..” 

“Because I was the one buying him the fucking drugs in the first place, Taylor.” he says, way louder than he intended. It gets quiet all of the sudden, the shocked face of his wife right next to him killing him in an instant. He knows that his parents in law clearly heard this comment as well. A massive amount of shame overcoming him. The same feeling of shame on his chest he had years ago. Years ago, when he promised her to be better and didn’t keep his promise. The same amount of shame that he feels everytime when he thinks about his past and who he was before she allowed him to love her. Before she gave him a chance, just one, and changed his life forever within a few weeks while touring the world. Sneaking into her bed after a twenty hour flight. Playing in front of massive crowds with butterflies in his stomach. That feeling of life falling into place, while also falling into her loving arms. He never wants to go back to who he was before her. Never.

“I’m.. I’m sorry.” he says instantly, his voice calm again. He feels this massive brick on his chest now, just by looking into her eyes. She’s worried. There’s no question now. 

“I didn’t mean to..”

“I know.” she says, swallows once. She’s not mad at him for giving her a short-tempered answer. She’s worried about his suppressed emotions. Worried that these feelings will lead him back to the dark place he was at years ago. Years before their relationship was as solid as it is today.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m just..” he stops, turns his head to face the ceiling of this airplane. He’s looking for words. She carefully notes every single movement he makes, with patience, just hopes that he can find the strength in himself to finally open up. She knows his face so well, has studied every frackle for years. She can feel in her bones when he suffers. And he does, ever since the day he got this call. 

“I don’t like revisiting these.. times.” he says then, turns his head to face her again and prays that she will understand him. 

“I don’t like being in these circles, with these people from back then. It’s just.. I feel a lot of guilt. You know that. And.. If I wasn’t there, we all know Trevor wouldn’t have..” 

“Will you stop right there?” she interrupts him in a strict tone, already placed her hand on his. “Do not even start blaming yourself for what happened to him. You know better than anyone that this is a disease, and..”

“Still, Taylor.” he answers then, swallows once. He got quieter in the end, just looks deep into her eyes, trying to find the connection with her that he craves so much in this moment. She knows what he’s trying to tell her. She knows that sometimes, what you know and what you feel is just completely different. 

“I just.. I don’t…” he stops, struggling to vocalise what he feels. And as so often, she gives him the space he needs to collect his words. She doesn’t say anything, just lets her hand stroke over the skin of his, and patiently waits for him to start talking again. The same kind of patience he always shows her whenever she’s completely worked up in something. The same patience he’s showed her endless times in the past years. 

“I feel like.. I have a new life.” he says then, and she feels herself getting emotional, just by seeing him emotional like this. “I’m so proud of what we’ve built, and.. and who I became because of you and the little one, and I…” 

He stops, and Taylor moves closer to him. Her forehead alredy leaning against his. He’s got his eyes closed, and she knows why. He’s close to tears and doesn’t want anyone to notice.

“I’m not ready to go back to.. to that, you know?”

Taylor listens, then nods. Her hand on his stubbly cheek now. She lets both their noses touch for a second, then leans in to give him a gentle kiss. Just before she can let go, Matt gives her lips another kiss, just because. Just because he wants her to know that no matter what, he will always appreciate her more than any other person in his life. 

“I know.” she replies, nodding gently while looking at him. She hopes he will ever know just how happy he made her by becoming who he is. Becoming who he was always meant to be. A good person. The most attentive partner. Her best friend. Her rock.

Matt takes a deep breath, thankful that she’s as understanding as she always is.

“m’ sorry for being an arsehole today.” he now mumbles into her head, appreciates that she’s already cuddled herself against his arm again. She’s tired, too. He can tell. 

“It’s okay.” she mumbles, then yawns loudly. 

“Take a nap, baby. As long as the little monster back there is sleeping.” 

Taylor has to giggle at his answer, but nods while closing her eyes. He’s not wrong. If she’s learned one thing in the past six months, it’s to appreciate every timeframe to get some sleep. Especially now, while growing another little monster in her belly. 

_______________

“How can you ever be mad at that little face? Like.. how?” 

Taylor has to laugh at her younger cousin Maureen, who’s just watching her struggle with her tantrum-throwing baby. Apparently, Marly has established a new game to play with his mom at the table, which is him throwing down anything he can find with his hands on the table in front of him after waking up from his afternoon nap. They’ve finally made it to her aunt Alison’s house for a small family gathering. Her mom’s side of the family has come all the way from St.Louis, and it’s the perfect occasion for everyone to finally meet Marly. She knows that this trip could’ve happened a lot earlier, but traveling with a baby is one of the things that made her anxious even early on. She knows how big the public interest in her child is, and traveling across the country with him meant planning their security to a tee. 

“After six months with no sleep it gets a lot easier, trust me.” she replies to her cousin with a laugh, can see Matt talking to Dylan and Scott at the end of the table. She’s so glad that her family accepted him the way they did. After everything that happened and all the times he had to prove to them that he’s right for her. Not just as a boyfriend, but also as a life partner. A pretty long road from her parents questioning his every move, to now loving him like a second son. 

“Marly, this is enough.” Taylor now sighs, holds him close on her lap before trying to pick up a napkin he just tossed onto the floor for the fifth time. Taylor feels exhaustion kick in. It started in her legs, and now wanders all the way up to her arms. She should’ve put on a different outfit today. She’s not showing yet but the jeans she’s wearing under her shirt are already a little too tight. With every single bend down, she feels a lot of pressure on her stomach. Not a very nice feeling.

“Someone’s in a mood today. Come bother daddy for a bit.” she suddenly hears Matty say, feels him reach for his son from her arms within seconds. She can’t help but smile at him. It’s one of the most beautiful things for her to know that they have this connection. He could feel her needing a break. He could tell across the room. She knows he’s always on the lookout for her, no matter if it’s at one of her concerts with thousands of people, or simply in the living room with her family. They have this way of not speaking, and still communicating. They always had. 

With his son on his arm, Matty just walks to the end of the family’s livingroom. He stops in front of the picture wall for a second. Taylor follows the conversations around the table for a bit longer, but can’t help and stare at the two boys at the end of the room. Matty remains standing in front of the picture wall of the family living room. His arms tightly around the little torso. He’s talking to his little son, points to one of the pictures and smiles at the baby’s reaction. Taylor smiles. He’s clearly showing him pictures of his mom as a little kid. She smiles, and without knowing he turns his head, looks right into that face he fell in love with years ago. Their eyes meet and for a second, they are alone in the room. Taylor doesn’t react, doesn’t have to say anything for him to see her. See her in a way that no one in this room, no one in this world sees her. His stare then gently turns into a smile. The same smile that has been making her knees go weak for half her life. He winks at her then, finally ends up making her giggle. No matter what, he’ll forever stay this way. 

_______________

Two hands are clutching into his thick curls, almost causing a painful sensation on his scalp. But he likes the pain. He especially likes this pain. He’s addicted to it. And it certainly doesn’t stop him from putting in even more effort than he did a minute ago. 

“Fuck, I..” she moans once, and it satifies him more than anything he could possibly think of. He knows she usually doesn’t let go like this. He knows she’s one of the most well-put together girls on this planet. He hasn’t heard her moan like this before, isn’t used to these profanities escaping her mouth, but he loves it. He loves being the cause of her completely losing herself in this hotel bed. 

Through the corner of his eye, Matty can see her letting her head fall to the back. Blonde, shoulder long straight hair on his pillow. He can’t wait for the sheets to smell like her. 

He stops for a second, looks up at her with a provocative smirk on his lips. He knows he’s got her all around his mouth still, and edging her like this will most likely drive her insane. But he loves it when he brings her to her edge. When she’s got that desperate look in her eyes, begging him for a sweet release. Her. A woman who’s never had to beg a man for anything before. 

She looks down at him, almost doesn’t understand why he stopped. Her chest is heaving up and down. Both his hands securely around her thighs, pressing a few wet kisses onto these. She just drops her head on the pillow for a second time in the past five minutes, her hands both wandering to her naked breasts. Almost in an exhausting manner, she keeps her hand on these, then looks down to the side to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

“You’re horrible..” she murmurs, still clearly bothered by her ruined orgasm. He just laughs into the soft skin right on the inside of her thigh, kisses the spot a few times before he looks up at her and into her frustrated face.

“Wait, you weren’t done yet?” he asks with a smirk on his face, then laughs again. She moans annoyed, her hands now landing on his curlyhead. She looks at him waiting patiently to go back to where he was just busy, just notices him kissing her between her legs again. Sluggish kisses being pressed on her sensitive skin. This is certainly not what she needs to finally release these pent up feelings in her lower stomach. 

“You wanna come, baby?” he asks then, a whisper escaping his mouth while his finger is drawing circles on her lower stomach. The look into his eyes almost drives her insane. She feels everything in her screaming for release. Insane how good it can feel to allow yourself to feel these things. To just follow your instincts, and fulfill your needs. Even with the wrong guy. 

“Yes.” 

“How badly do you want to come, baby?” 

“So bad.” she moans, eyes closed and a feeling of gratefulness overcoming her as she finally feels his lips on her sweet spot again. He’s sucking and licking. Sucking and licking. Sucking and…

“Fuck, yes.” she suddenly moans out louder, her hands a steady grip on his head. He knows she’s at her point of no return. He closes his eyes, his lips sticking onto the magic little pearl between her legs as closely as possible. He knows how to drive her insane. Her little desperate moans in his ears, her hands almost pulling his hair out and her hips pushing themselves so closely to his mouth that he can almost feel her lifting herself up from the soft mattress. Both his hands on her sweet little bum now, as he fully burries himself in her most private part. Her orgasm overcoming the both of them with the sweetest contractions that bring nothing but release and peace over the both of them. Matty slowly removes his lips from her sensitive spot, proudly kisses the outside of her lips a few times. This was a good one. This was one of the better orgasms she’s shared with him. It’s been a few weeks now that they’ve spent time together. A few weeks now since this incredible woman has let him get closer to her. As close to her as not many people get to be. 

Matty takes his time with her, his hands slowly moving from her bum cheeks to the side of her naked hips. He continues showering her with kisses on the soft skin. She’s breathing heavily, her eyes still closed and both her hands clutching onto her bare breasts. She’s got this serious look on her face, that he knows too well whenever she’s trying to come down from an intensive orgasm. Matty slowly crawls back up to her, his nose touching her temple once. She needs some more time to come back down to earth, and he gives her all the time she needs. He reaches for the big silk sheets that she kicked to the end of the hotel bed right when things started to get heated between them. Matty carefully covers her naked body. The last thing he wants is for her to be freezing. The blonde woman with the shoulder long hair suddenly stirs, looks at him with tiny eyes and a satisfied smile. He laughs, slowly leaning down to steal her nose a kiss. 

She giggles quietly, both her hands around his neck now. 

“Thank you for making me come.” she says then, her comment resulting in a breathy laugh against her lips. She’s as smart and sexy as it gets yet she can be the most awkward woman he knows at the same time. 

“I like making you come, darling.” he mumbles, steals her lips a kiss before he slowly rolls to the other side of the bed. She looks after him, watches him reach for the package of ciggarettes next to the bed. He slowly gets up, slides his briefs up his legs and disappears at the end of the room. She hates that he does that. She hates that he’s got this habit of not being able to stay in bed with her for too long. Because what she really craves is the minutes after the sex. Enjoying the peaceful quiet with someone, not being alone. 

Under the sheets, Taylor takes one last breath. Insane how good he can make her feel. Insane that this is the first time she’s been able to have just sex with someone. Nothing more. No feelings involved. No responsibilities or complications. Taylor slowly sits up, looks after him disappearing at the end of this huge hotel room. She takes a few seconds to collect her thoughts, quietly reaches for her phone right next to her on the little marble bedside table. She takes one look at her Home Screen that is Olivia and Meredith cuddling together and finds a message from Karlie.

‘Enjooooooy Tay! Hope you can walk tomorrow’

Taylor has to smirk, just locks her phone again and decides to get up. She looks around the luxurious hotel room, tries to spot her underwear somewhere. Right after they got back to Matty’s hotel suite after the concert, none of the two had been able to keep their hands off each other, which resulted in her clothes being spread out in this room. She quietly gets up, reaches for his white shirt that he wore earlier when they got here. She wraps the fabric around her torso, closes just the one button in the middle to cover her body. In her newfound dress, she quickly makes her way to the bathroom and closes the door quietly.

_______________

She pulls on the little string attached to the teddy bear. The gentle sound of her favorite lullaby starting all over. She looks at the sleeping baby in bed, her hand gently stroking the chubby cheek one last time. She never thought it would hit her so hard to look at her baby and see so much of his father in him. The little frown on his face whenever he’s asleep. The stubborn look he’s been carrying since the day he was born. A literal miniature version of the person she loves so much. Taylor slowly moves the two big pillows to each side of the bed, protecting him from rolling over. She’s glad she’s placed the little boy in the middle of the big guest bed. That way, she can carefully sneak out of the room. She checks one more time on her phone if the baby monitor app works. As she closes the door quietly she can already see him sleeping peacefully, right through the screen of her iPhone. She takes a deep breath. Hopefully they will all get some more sleep tonight. 

Taylor slowly makes her way down the hallway of the family house. Every time she passes one of the family photographs she has to smile. What she loves about Alison’s house is the fact that she’s as obsessed with hanging up childhood pictures of herself and her siblings as Taylor is. Taylor remains standing there, has to laugh at the framed picture on the wall right in front of her. The two blonde sisters are playing in the sand. It almost looks like it’s somewhere at the Jersey shore. A place where her great grandmother had a beautiful house and spent most summers at. Taylor smiles. The closer she looks, the more she sees Marly in her mother’s face. They do have a lot of similarities. 

Suddenly, she hears a sound coming from the guest bathroom, at the end of the hallway. She stops for a second, looks confused around. She didn’t know anyone else was up here? After all, the loud laughs and buzzing conversations of her family around the thanksgiving dinner table downstairs are still very much audible up here. She slowly makes her way down the stairs. With every step, all the laughs and conversations are getting louder. She quickly scans the cozy warm living room. The lights have been dimmed and a few candles on the table light up the room in the most cozy way. She scans the entire living room, trying to find the curly head. But he’s not here. Just when she was about to turn around and go back up, she feels her father’s hand around her wrist. He looks down at her, giving her a gentle smile. 

“Is he asleep?” he asks, seems to have just gotten up to go to the kitchen and grab another bottle of wine from the fridge. Taylor nods, and he can clearly see that she’s relieved. A sleepless baby is one of the hardest things about being a parent. Scott knows that better than anyone.

“Yeah finally. Have you seen Matty?” she asks then, a little confused that she hadn’t seen him in a while now. It’s been almost an hour since she last saw him in the family bustle. Before she took Marly to bed, he was just about to head to the shops with Andrew to get some more gravy that Alison forgot. It’s clearly been some time since she last spoke to him and it’s not very typical for them.

“Is he okay?” Scott then replies to her, and Taylor feels her stomach drop for a second. She didn’t expect this reaction from her father, and it seems to only result in her getting worried again. A feeling she hates.

“What? Why?” she says, and her father seems to understand what his tone caused in his daughter. He gently shakes his head, smiles slightly to soothe her.

“No, I just.. he was quiet today.” 

Taylor nods. She knows that her parents also noticed that something has been bothering him. After all, they’ve seen a lot of Mattys in the past years. The version of himself being absolutely lost and hurting her to the core, the version of him trying to change to have any chance with her, and also the Matty who became a father. She should’ve known that they would notice. After all, they’re family.

“I know. I think… he’s dealing with a lot right now.” Taylor says, and her father nods. She doesn’t have the capacity to explain anything further right now. Instead, her dad gives her a gentle kiss onto the cheek and walks past her. 

In her grey jumper and her hair still in a loose bun, Taylor slowly makes her way upstairs again. It seems to be that the noise she heard from the bathroom has been her husband after all?

She can see light coming from the crack of the bathroom door. She carefully remains still, standing in the hallway and waiting for some kind of confirmation that it is indeed him.

“Matty?” she asks then carefully, hoping she wasn’t wrong. Within two seconds, she hears a window closing and a lock that’s being turned around. He stands there, in front of her, looking almost startled. 

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?” he asks, a bit panicky. He stands there, looking at the blonde woman in front of him, searching for any indicator that something happened or whatever could be the reason for her calling him and searching for him in this house.

“I’m.. I’m good, I was just looking for you.” she says then, secretly loves the fact that his big hands are already on her upper arms, almost as if he’d have to convince himself that she is, in fact, alright. 

“Good. Good.” he says, his voice calming down a bit. She looks at him confused, just standing there in the hallway, right behind the open bathroom door. She isn’t used to this hysterical version of him. She knows that his biggest fear is always and has always been that anything could happen to her. But this is not quite the setting in which he usually reacts like this. 

“What are you doing up here?” she says then, and he sighs. His shoulders are shrugging gently and she knows he’s hiding something from her. 

“Just… had to take a call. And.. just wanted to take a dump in peace without my wife close.”

She looks at him, a look on her face she knows so well. He’s trying to be funny, trying to make her laugh instead of her questioning what he just said. But he knows she’s smart. He knows he can bullshit the entire world but not her.

“Ah, and how did that work out for you?” she says then, and Matty almost has to laugh quietly. But Taylor doesn’t let him be, just carefully places her hand on his stubbly cheek. She knows he’s got things on his mind. But there’s no way she will allow him to not let her in. It’s something they’ve both overcome these past years. And she won’t allow him to take 5 steps forward and 7 steps back now. 

“Go in there.” she says, signals him to walk back into the small guest bathroom. He just watches her take a few steps, and grins. His dirty little mind. She rolls her eyes, then locks the door. 

“Stop with the smirk.” she says, both her hands now on his chest. She presses her stomach against his, and she loves feeling his arms wrap around her lower back. Her nose gently touches his and it feels like reconnecting again after days of exhaustion. For the first time in what feels like ages. 

“Do you not like me smirking anymore?” he whispers against her forehead, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sex smirk. But there’s no sex coming your way, mister.” she whispers back and makes him laugh. He gently breathes out some air and presses a kiss into her forehead, right over the blonde bangs. The most natural movement for him.

“You smoked.” she says then, upping her head and looking straight into his eyes. He swallows, because once again, she’s seeing right through him. He sighs. He used to lie to her to not break her heart. But that’s not working anymore. She knows him too well for any of this to work. 

“I didn’t.” 

“You smell like ciggarettes, babe.”

He sighs. She’s got him. Taylor awaits any type of reaction, but nothing. He then looks back up into her eyes and she understands.

“You used to find that sexy, remember?” he says boldly, and Taylor rolls her eyes. How could she forget. 

“Are you.. are you really okay?” she asks then, a more serious tone in her voice. “Because.. because not only did you smoke tonight, but you also had wine. And.. and I’m not policing you because that’s not my job, but you have been sober for two full years and it worries me that you do both of these things in one…”

Matty just shakes his head. He’s mad. Taylor can already feel his anger radiating from him. 

“Thanks for the conversation.” he says in irony, removes himself from her arms. And it breaks her heart. It breaks her heart to feel him pull back from her in this moment.

“Matt..”

“What?”

She looks at him, both her arms crossed now. She sighs. She feels this anxiety in her chest again. The same anxiety that raises every time they fight, or anytime he doesn’t seem to let her in. A deep, old fear creeping up that she knew so well. Ten years ago. 

“I just worry…”

“I know you do. Because I had a glass of red wine. Because I had one cigarette with your cousin. Makes a lot of sense, baby.” he says then, and she hates his tone. He’s sarcastic. He’s aggressive. All of the things he shouldn’t be when talking to her.

“Don’t baby me.” she says then, but he just shakes his head, all angry. She can’t believe that he doesn’t understand her. She can’t believe he just dropped her loving arms. She can’t believe they’re having this conversation again. 

“Hey, I love you. And I want you to be.. to be healthy. For you, and for your children.” she says then, and it’s the first time she’s used this word in plural. Because she knows exactly what it does to him. All the anger from before vanishes in the air. And what’s left, is pain. The pain he radiates ever since the news broke. Taylor doesn’t know what else to do to help him out of this.

“I.. I need a second, okay?” he says then, a lot calmer than before and it kills her inside. She swallows, just nods and watches him leave the bathroom. All alone she remains standing there. She thought their little argument would end in a hug and a big kiss. But instead, he’s asking her for space. It really has been years since this. She takes a deep breath. He’s okay. He’s okay.

#taylor swift #taylor swift fanfiction #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 #1975 #fanfiction #fanfic #Fanfic writer #maylor

[tarnishedinquirer]

Fringefolk Hero's Grave 2

Here I am, back at the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. I'm stronger. I've got a torch and a spyglass. I'm wearing armor, thanks to a certain someone helping me take that mask off.

Though, to be honest, still not comfortable with my face. I think I forgot how it's supposed to work.

Looking from a distance at the handless woman, comparing her to the Erdtree Favor... They could both be earlier depictions of Marika, but I can't be sure. The Erdtree Favor looks a lot more recent, even if it was also in the distant past. If the statue was holding a vessel of some kind, she would've been holding it upright, rather than pouring it out. One removed of power, one removed of identity. I feel like I'm on the cusp of a discovery here.

This time, I looked around before crossing the bridge and noticed a ledge down below. No reason to antagonize the Grafted Scions, so I jumped down. There was nothing on the ledge, so I jumped down again, and landed in shallow water.

I took some stairs and then an elevator up, and found myself on a platform overlooking the chariot track. Unfortunately, I was not alone, as another of the red-clad Banished Knights attacked me with a halberd. By now I knew for certain that his techniques were of Stormveil. These knights must have served Stormveil at some point. So what was Stormveil's connection to dragons?

As the chariot raced back and forth below, I looked up, only to find several giant pots suspended from the ceiling. Can't imagine why they would be there. Some kind of failsafe, maybe? A way to take out the chariot if its creators couldn't disable themselves? That made sense. The magics to control it might be lost to time, but a giant exploding pot would probably do the trick in a pinch.

Took me until the last pot to get the timing right, but oh was it satisfying. I'd never have to worry about that thing again.

In the wreckage, I found an Erdtree Greatbow. That seemed odd... was the thing supposed to also shoot arrows at me? Was the artifact used as a power source somehow? Or was the chariot itself some sort of mobile reliquary? Impossible to say, considering how thoroughly I destroyed it.

Greatbow featuring Erdtree styling. In times of old, when faith and battle went hand in hand, this weapon was created in tandem with the Golden Arrow.

In times of old? FAith and battle always go hand in hand. They still do, if some of these gold-clad zealots I've met are any indication. Even when not led by fanatics, the faith is still used to oppress, like with Demi-humans and Misbegotten. My god can beat up your god.

This world keeps finding new ways to horrify me. When I entered the final chamber, I was expecting something like the chambers at the end of catacombs. This was similar to that, but instead of one mass of roots at the end of the chamber, enormous clumps of decaying bodies hung down from the ceiling like rotten fruit. The guardian was a creature like a gnarled root crossed with a snake, except far worse for how its cracked skin pulsed and oozed with unknown sickness. The voice called it an Ulcerated Tree Spirit. Was this in any way related to the Avatars? Perhaps their dark equivalent.

I found it was still as "holy" as its cousins, but rather than casting magic from its hammer-stave, it breathed fire like a dragon. Perhaps that's why I found a Haligdrake talisman on someone trying to flee. He must've thought it would protect him. It afforded me some protection, but nowhere near enough.

It took countless tries before I was able to read its undulating body language. Before I could tell a feint from a lunge from the thing just dragging its bulk across the floor. Halfway through the fight, it erupted into golden flames that did not consume it, only made it more dangerous to approach. I applied burning resin to my sword in hopes that like a tree, it would burn. It helped, but again, the creature was so resilient the damage increase was marginal at best.

Then I started using everything at my disposal. Picked turtle necks for stamina. Exalted flesh for strength. Aurelia as a distraction. I found that if I hugged its belly, it had a harder time hitting me, unless it decided to just roll over top of me.

Eventually, though, it fell, and I claimed my rewards.

Banished Knight Oleg. One of the two knights known as the Wings of the Storm. After his banishment, he attracted the notice of the Grace-Given Lord and later, having slain a hundred traitors as the Lord's hand, Oleg earned the hero's honor of Erdtree Burial.

First, this knight must've been Engvall's partner. Second, Engvall's ashes said that he was a hero of the fringes, yet Oleg is the one interred in the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. The one who rejected the Grace-Given Lord is in a tiny, waterlogged tomb on a rotten river, while the one who accepted him is buried in a hero's grave. The whole thing smacks of politics.

Finally, this "Grace-Given Lord." Godrick the Golden/Grafted was born in grace. That's basically the only thing he has going for him. A Grace-Given lord is one who was not born in grace but was rather granted it.

Conclusion: Engvall stayed watch over Stormveil while Oleg answered the summons. It's not a stretch to assume the summons was from Leyndell. Oleg distinguished himself fighting traitors, while Engvall died as a hero in exile. When Oleg died, he Engvall was stripped of his burial place and shunted off to a forgotten, disrepaired tomb, guarded only by a lone gladiator. Perhaps Engvall's master was one of the traitors, and Stormveil was the traitor's castle before Godrick took over? That would explain the disrespect.

Who is the grace-given lord?

What was wrong with this tree spirit?

Who was the former master of Stormveil, the one turned traitor?

When did Marika's iconography drop the ewer?

#elden ring #elden ring lore #in character #in character blog #in character post #let's play #ulcerated tree spirit #marika #banished knights #erdtree #gold #stormveil #dragons

[moonyspadfoot793]

Regulus Black with a mobility aid, inspired by a post from @/youdrewstars_aroundmyscars on instagram.

- Regulus has cerebral palsy, as a result of a gene mutation causing his brain to develop differently

- Specifically he has ataxic cerebral palsy, so he has trouble with balance and coordination when walking, and he has a hard time with quick movements and with tasks such as writing which require a lot of control

- He also is deaf as a result of a gene mutation, which also led to slight "issues" in his pronunciation when talking

- His parents always ignored his disabilities as a child, instead liking to pretend he was able bodied, and never giving him the help and support he needed

- He was forced into speech therapy, and his parents would always force him to try "walk properly without falling over" so as to not "ruin their reputation"

- When his speech didn't get much better and he still couldn't miraculously hear them, Regulus' parents finally got him a cochlear implant at age 9, but that was all the support he ever got

- Once Regulus got to Hogwarts, he decided to take matters into his own hands

- The speech therapy has stopped, which he was glad about, but he was still slow and unsteady on his feet and struggled with writing and moving quickly

- After a couple weeks scouring the library, Regulus found a charm he could put on his quill so that it would write for him, and that was one accommodation he found for himself, his classmates giving him odd looks but never questioning it

- After much deliberation, after struggling with the stairs and walking to his classes on time, Regulus decided to get himself a cane

- Just after Christmas in his first year, Regulus got Sirius to help him in finding and buying a cane, as Sirius had been through this with Remus already and was more than happy to help his little brother

- Regulus got his cane in January of 1973 while still in first year, and of course people asked him what it was for, why he needed it, even went as far as to tell him he couldn't possibly need it as he was only 12 years old

- This got to Regulus at first, but then he remembered about Remus and his cane, how cool it made him look, and he began strutting around Hogwarts with his head held high, death staring anyone who dare question him or look at him the wrong way

- Regulus was still a little unsteady with the cane, and still had to go quite slowly, but it helped, and that was what mattered

- So Regulus used his cane for a few years, leaving it at Hogwarts over Christmas and asking Sirius to send it home with James over summer so that his parents didn't crucify him, and all was well, he was finally getting aid in walking and it was a lot easier for him

- In his 5th year, having run away from home with Sirius the previous year to live with James, it finally hit Regulus that he was free. For good. He could use any aids he needed without worry of consequence from his parents

- He decided that he wanted to try out a walker, as he thought this would help with his balance a lot more than the cane did

- Over Christmas break of his 5th year, while at the Potter's, Regulus brought up the idea with Effie and Monty, who were more than happy to help him, and were very happy that he was finally asking for help and not completely hiding his feelings anymore

- Within 2 days, they had found a walker that seemed suitable and it was in the house, ready for Regulus to try out

- That day, Sirius, Remus, James, and Regulus, Peter and Marlene both living nearby but occupied with family activities, went for a walk down to the village, Remus with his cane mainly to help Regulus feel more confident, and Regulus with his brand new walker

- It did help, it helped a lot. And while Regulus was sad he didn't get the chance to get one earlier in his life, he was thrilled that he had one now

- With the walker, he could balance a lot better than he could with the cane, and he could even walk a little faster, not having to slow the group down any slower than Remus' pace with his cane

- Regulus used the walker every day of Christmas break from there, even when they all took a trip to Diagon Alley together

- In Diagon Alley, while Regulus did get a few stares from older witches and a few people in his classes, he employed the tactic he had used when he first got his cane; head held high and death stare all the way, and he made his way through all of the shops happily talking with his brother and his friends, more confident than ever

- Going back to Hogwarts, Regulus hit the issue of the many stairs in the building, not being able to use his walker up them

- He settled for using his cane at any time where he had to go up stairs, and using his walker whenever possible

- Regulus finished Hogwarts confidently using his mobility aids, no longer worrying about people's opinions of him, and continued to use his aids out in the world, with his boyfriend (boyfriend !!) James Potter and his brother and brother in law always by his side

#black brothers #they love each other #they have a good relationship #i promise #remus lupin uses a cane #and so does regulus black #theyre disabled icons fr #i love them your honor #james fleamont potter #regulus arcturus black #the black brothers #sirius and regulus #remus lupin is disabled #regulus black is disabled #deaf regulus black #regulus black with cerebral palsy #marauders era #mobility aid user remus #disabled headcanons #regulus headcanon #walburga blacks a* parenting #sarcasm #i hate her #azkaban please omg