#I didn’t do barefoot cause I’m weird about my feet and touching things with my feet lmaooo

[rosicheeks]

Nothing Compares by Sinead O'Connor (RIP)

#uhhhhhhhm I’m speechless #wow #I started listening to it on Spotify #but once I heard the cry in her voice I had to search for a live performance #I’m SO glad I did #live performances (in my opinion) show how good an artist really is #I love love LOVE when singers do wear shoes #that’s what I did when I sang 🥰 #I didn’t do barefoot cause I’m weird about my feet and touching things with my feet lmaooo #but I’d always take my shoes off so I could feel the vibrations #also i hated shoes so it was an excuse to take them off haha #and then just the way she loses herself in the music #unfortunately I didn’t know her before she passed #and I just looked it up and she JUST passed #rest in peace sinead O’Connor #such a talented and raw soul #ask #anon #song recs #when singers *don’t wear shoes #my bad

[skribblz]

Fics??????? *very eyes, much emoji*

If sooo I recently just came up with another SenGen scenario-

I feel like Senku would question why Gen walks around barefoot all the time. He did offer some shoes for him one time but Gen declined cause I hc that for him it feels nice to walk around barefoot, and that since they're in the Stone world he has freedom to do so without getting called out, which Senku agrees nevertheless. But he does offer to clean his feet for him cause of how dirty they are sjfjsjfjsjf Gen ur gross /j /lh

and I think u know where this is going heehoo 👀👀👀

hehehehEHEHEH yay sengen ty angel <3

"Don't your feet ever...hurt?"

Gen tilts his head, a grin starting to spread across his face, "Aww are you worried about me, Senku-chan?"

"Just answer the question, damn mentalist." The scientist scoffs, earning a giggle.

"Of course it hurts if I step on something sharp," he replies, poking the other on the cheek, "but otherwise, nope! It's kinda like a nice little massage!"

"Don't tell me you have cuts on your feet." Senku starts, ready to go off on a whole tangent. "Someone like you knows how deadly infections can be, especially-"

"Especially in the Stone World, blah blah." Gen imitates, smirking as he received a glare from the other. "It's not that hard to say that you care, you stubborn thing."

Senku glared harder, pink faintly dusted across his cheeks since he couldn't honestly refute that statement. "You're just a-"

"Useful ally, I know, I know." The magician sighs dramatically, "Just another person to exploit."

Suddenly, a rough hand grabs onto his arm, pulling him out of his performance. His single audience member drags Gen along, who honestly doesn't mind. It did give him more chances to annoy the younger man.

"Fine, allow me to repay you for all the work you've done, as well as prevent your feet from falling off later. It's ten billion percent efficient."

"Ooh, where are you taking me, Dr. Ishigami? And please be gentle."

Senku groans, rolling his eyes. "Ew, shut up."

This was way too much fun.

It doesn't take long for Gen to realize that they were heading toward a nearby creek; all those trips to collect flowers for his tricks gave him decent knowledge of the land. Senku leads him down to the side of the water and allows Gen to roll up his the bottoms of his pants before obediently stepping in.

"It's cold!" He whines immediately.

"Deal with it, you big baby." Senku snickers at the mentalist's discomfort, letting this go on for awhile more. "Alright come on, get over here." He sits. "Give me your foot."

Gen backpedals a bit, trying not to fall into the freezing water. He’d prefer not to be soaking wet after all. Senku’s words did surprise him though, and he voices his concerns with a titter. "W-what? Who would've thought you were into stuff like this, Senku-chan!"

"Don't make it sound weird, I'm just cleaning your feet for you."

"I can do that myself-"

"You're the one who says how caring I am. So let me show how much I care." The scientist deadpans. He didn't understand why Gen was being so reluctant, unless there was actually a reason he didn't want his feet touched? Was he trying to hide an injury?

He frowns at Gen, offering his hand expectantly. The other shifts nervously, slowly sitting down on the grassy bank before placing his right heel onto the hand.

Senku immediately starts inspecting, taking note of the (thankfully) shallow scratches. Though when he starts prodding around for anything broken, Gen jolts and his face scrunches up all weird.

"Sorry, does this hurt?"

"No, no. I'm fine." The magician squeaks, willing himself to stay still as Senku shrugs, continuing his lighting poking and tracing.

After what seemed like ages, the sensations stop and Gen breathes a sigh of relief. He hears the bag rustle and Senku pulls out a bar of soap and dunks it into the water a few times. And without warning, he starts scrubbing the surface of Gen's sole.

And Gen squeals, instinctively yanking his foot out of the scientist's loose grasp.

"Oh yeah, you have some scratches so it might sting a little, but I thought you could take it?"

"A little too late for a warning don't you think!?"

"Just let me finish. It's your fault for not wearing shoes in the first place."

"And that's my choice!" Gen cries, trying to crawl away.

"And I'd rather not become the stone world's first amputator so you're just gonna have to bear with it." Senku remarks, snatching up the foot with a firmer grip.

"No means no!"

"Can you not?"

“Can you noEEE- NAahahaha!” The mentalist cackles as the scrubbing begins again. Although he noted that Senku was a bit gentler this time, it didn’t really help with his predicament. Gen’s back hits the grass as he clutches his stomach, desperately tugging at his trapped foot while the giggles fall endlessly from his mouth.

The scientist quickly puts two and two together, finally realizing why Gen was so reluctant to have his feet cleaned. It also explains the constipated looks he got during his inspection. "Huh, you're ticklish.” Senku says, mostly to himself. He watches the other squirm with great interest, cataloging each moment Gen twisted his head, face cherry red and mouth decorated with the cutest smile. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

"Behehecause it's- hAHahaha! Embahaharrassing! Nonononohoho!"

“I guess so.” Senku throws out casually, opting to dig his fingers into the magician’s toes. And Gen goes berserk, hands thumping the ground as he throws his head back, bright laughter filling the sky. He even almost kicks Senku in the face.

Senku, however, found this whole ordeal rather fascinating. He is very amused to find out how such a simple action could prompt such a large reaction. All that smooth-talking and witty remarks, turning into dorky, uncontrollable giggling. “Y’know, I think I like this side of you better, mentalist. Way more easier to deal with.”

And Gen wants to protest and argue and rebuke, but how could he? Nothing but chortles would come out; the ticklish sensations from his foot overloaded his brain, causing him to flail around madly.

The scientist decides that this is enough for now, dropping the foot back into the river. And Gen doesn’t complain this time, chest heaving grateful breaths. Each exhale produces a string of residual giggles, making Senku’s heart flutter just a tiny bit. Gen didn’t need to know that, he determines.

“Thahahat....was so...cruel.” 

Senku shrugs in response, “Again, your fault for not wearing shoes.” 

Gen ponders for a moment, was pushing Senku’s buttons right now really worth it? Sitting up slowly, he looks at the younger man through half-lidded eyes. “Well if you continue to give me special treatment...maybe I won’t ever put on a pair of shoes~” 

“That is extremely illogical and you know it.” 

“Maybe I think it’s nice having you touch me like this.” He really couldn’t help himself. Gen smiles flirtatiously, expecting to be met with wide crimson eyes and an equally crimson face. 

But instead, Senku smirks back, eyes not wide, but calculating. He’s not skillful enough to hide the tint of pink dusting his cheeks though.

“Yeah? I’ll touch you more if you’d like.” 

“Ooooh, how dirty~” 

"Hand over the other foot, mentalist." Senku's grin morphs into something more sinister.

Gen’s jaw drops, a look of betrayal spreads across his face. Asshole. He grits his teeth and then presses his lips into a thin smile, "...Please be gentle?"

#see I always go crazy over sengen #where did this come from? i dont fricken know #sengen #dr. stone #ishigami senku #asagiri gen #skribes #heh curse word #nice

[ramblesanddragons]

Under The Moonlight

(For @lemonfodrizzleart based on her wonderful Mystery Farm AU mixed with Monster Falls. I really like Jackie as an OC and I hope I did her justice. A little treat for the spooky season. Normally I believe Gargrunk Stan can’t fly but maybe in this dimension he can!) 

Words: 1967

Warnings: None! Just some fluff with a little bit of feels.

As the sun set low in the October sky Stan was trying his best to put on something nice. The wings were making it a little difficult. Maybe it would be easier to go shirtless than mess up a good flannel, but he wanted to look nice. Jackie was looking forward to this, he wasn’t going to let her down.  

With a little fashion help from Kelvin, Stan was able to get his wings through some neatly cut holes. His tail wiggled into the hole in his jeans after a few tries. Shoes were a no go but at least his hat could rest in-between the horns on his head.  

Getting ready for a date had never been so frustrating.  

It was worth it though when he saw the smile on Jackie’s face. She was floating down the stairs, well more like fluttering. Even with all the draw backs of being a monster Jackie was enjoying being able to fly. The past few days she’d practically flown all over the farm.

Her dress was an off the shoulder affair in a deep black. A bit too fancy for a moonrise picnic but it was probably easier to deal with than anything else because of her own wings. He thin tail poked out of the bottom of the dress. Stan didn’t really care if it was too fancy. She looked incredible.  

“Ready?” She asked.  

Stan motioned to the blanket and basket in his hands and Jackie looped her arm around his stony one. Ford looked up from his notes. He was currently measuring the size of Kevin’s ears. It was only due to the golden fur covering his face that his twin wasn’t blushing up a storm being that close to his crush.  

“You two be careful. I’m not sure how well any of the town folk would react to seeing you.”  

“Look I’ve been planning this date for a week, Ford. No little monster curse is going ta stop us. You shouldn’t let it stop you either.”  

Ford gave Stan a look that said, “Shut the hell up!” while Kelvin was distracted with the bone left over from his steak. Out of all of them he was rolling with this monster thing the best and seemed to embrace his wolfish side. Ford was indulging in riddles more but most of his focus was trying to find a cure. His twin needed to take a break before he burnt himself out. The occasional accidentally catnap wasn’t enough.  

Stan could bother Ford to relax later. For now, he’d let him study Kelvin in peace. Maybe it would get him to finally ask him out. The official couple squeezed out the door with a wave and began to walk out into the orchard.  

If this curse wasn’t lifted by next week, the fall apple festival they held each year would be turning into a costume festival as well. Sure, folks around town were used to the weird but even they had their limits. That was something for next week Stan to worry about. Right now Stan wanted to put all his attention on Jackie.  

Jackie, who was also barefoot, would hop every few feet trying to catch a breeze. When she did, she’d flutter around the tops of the trees for a bit and return with a handful of apples.  

“Honey, tonight’s ‘posed to be about relaxing.”  

“Oh, I know. It’s just annoying to do it in the daytime. Sun hurts my eyes,” she explained. The picked apples were placed in bags and left by the trees. They could pick them up on the walk back.  

“At least you can go out in the sun,” Stan grumbled.  

Jackie gave him a sympathetic peck on the cheek and his grumbling morphed into a happy purring noise.  

“It’s so cute when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t tell Ford.”  

She laughed and fluttered around the trees some more before they reached their picnic spot. The hill at the end of the orchard was silhouetted by the harvest moon. Maybe he needed to take Jackie on night dates more often. It was beautiful.  

The two of them settled their blanket down and began to eat. Stan wasn’t as good of a cook as Jackie, but he had made the fanciest sandwiches he could with homemade sides. Every item had a somewhat ridiculous amount of meat in it to satisfy his new carnivore diet, but Jackie didn’t mind.  

The two of them ate and talked and laughed. Stan offered her a blanket when the wind blew but Jackie declined.  

“Apparently demons don’t get cold. It’s nice.”  

“You know you might look like a demon, but I think of you as an angel baby.” Stan said with a smile. The smile faltered as Jackie laughed.

“How long have you been wanting to use that one? Very smooth lover boy,” she teased.  

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I love you no matter what you look like! Yeesh. I try to be sweet.” He rolled his eyes playfully before remembering that no one could tell when he was rolling his eyes anymore. His eyes were currently glowing orange orbs.  

Jackie’s eyes had a reddish cat in the dark like gleam to them. They were staring deeply at him. “I appreciate. At first, I was a bit weirded out by being turned into a succubus of all things, but you haven’t made me feel weird or different. I appreciate it.”  

“Of course. You’re amazing no matter what you look like.” Stan wrapped a stony arm around Jackie, and they sat and watched the stars for a few minutes.  

“Hey. I just got a great idea. We should take advantage of this who demon and gargoyle thing while we can,” Jackie said playfully.  

Stan gulped. “Well, I haven’t really pushed any ideas since I didn’t want you thinking that you being a succubus would effect anything. I love you for more than that and-”

“Let’s go flying!”  

“That...that is not what I thought you meant.”

“Oh, that can happen later. I know you’ve had a hard time keeping your hands off me.” Jackie winked and hopped-up leaving Stan slack jawed in the dirt. She laughed and stretched her wings wide.  

“I think we could get some good air from here but maybe we should head up on the cliffs.”

“I don’t think I can fly. Too heavy,” Stan said.  

“I bet you can. If your furball and feathers of a twin can, so can you. Although just in case we probably shouldn’t start with the cliffs. Let's try from here.  

The hill wasn’t high enough to set off Stan’s heights fear, but it was one of the best places to sled on the farm. With the right wind it could be enough for a decent take off as Jackie was proving. She ran a few feet and stretched her wings, diving down to catch speed then turning up. She whooped happily as she climbed higher and higher. It almost looked like she could touch the large moon.

“Come on baby you can do it!” She shouted from the sky.  

Stan gulped. He took a deep breath and went down the hill at a run. He jumped like he saw Jackie do but then tumbled head over tail down the rest of the hill. As he finally rolled to a stop Jackie landed beside him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Hard head remember.” For emphasis Stan tapped his head and it made stony thumping noise.  

“How about I do it with you? That might help.”  

“Jackie I... there’s something I haven’t told you.” Stan frowned, he hated admitting it. “I’m afraid of heights.”

Jackie tilted her head in confusion and then something clicked. “That’s why you get Ford to do anything that involves a ladder! That’s why you like to use the apple picking tool instead of climbing!”  

“Yeah. Pretty pathetic huh.”

“Of course not! Being afraid of heights makes sense! It’s not like humans can fly...normally that is. I just can’t believe we’ve been together this whole time and I didn’t realize it.”

“I did my best to try and hide it.”  

Jackie petted his head causing him to purr again. Her claw like nails made a scratching noise against his stone skin. “Don’t be afraid to tell me you’re afraid Stan. I know you got it in your head you’re supposed to be this tough, sturdy guy-”

“What gave you that idea?” Stan asked in faux offense. Jackie shot him a look and gestured to his gargoyle body. He chuckled and let Jackie finish her thought.

“What I was trying to say is that it’s okay to be afraid and all those other human things. You don’t have to put on an act for me.”  

Stan’s smile faltered and he took Jackie’s hand in his. “...I know.” Logically he knew that but there were times he could still hear his pa’s voice in his head telling him to be a man. Men weren’t afraid of things. Men didn’t have feelings. Men were tough as stone. That wasn’t the kind of man he was though, deep down, despite his current appearance. Sure, he was tough, but he felt all these other feelings too and he didn’t want to deny them. It was just hard sometimes. He was thankful to whatever above that Jackie was patient with him about it.  

They sat at the bottom of the hill until Stan’s head finished spinning. Then he hauled himself up.

“Let’s try again.”

“Stan, you got nothing to prove.”

“I know that but when am I ever going to have a chance like this again. With luck these wings are gone within the week.”

He trudged back up the hill and watched how Jackie took off running and caught the fall breeze in her wings. She swooped up and flapped her wings hard to get higher and higher. Waiting until the wind picked up again Stan charged down the hill on all fours. As dumb as he felt it worked and he was able to feel a lift on his body. He beat his wings as hard as he could and the ground under him disappeared. The sudden disappearance of the ground spooked him, and he stopped flapping. His stone body went tumbling again.

“Stan!”

“I’m okay. I almost got this. Stay there!”

Determined he tried one more time. This time the wind was with him as a strong gust rolled across the orchard sending leaves and some apples flying. He flapped with all his might and didn’t panic this time when he took flight. His body was heavy. He could feel the strain in his back from the effort, but it was worth it to see Jackie’s delighted face.  

“How are you doing?” She lowered herself down a few feet to meet him where he was steady.  

“Alright if I don’t look down or think about being 20 feet in the air.”  

“Come on! Just keep your eyes on me.” She took Stan’s hand and together they started to soar through the starlit sky around the farm. As terrifying as it was it was also beautiful. The two of them danced in the sky for as long as Stan’s wings could hold him.  

Landing was tricky but when they made it back to their picnic spot Stan managed to stay on both feet despite tripping. He was even able to catch Jackie in his hands as she landed.  

“That was amazing,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re amazing,” Stan responded.  

“You might not agree with that after this. Tag you’re it!” She yelled pushing him slightly. She took off into the air again.  

“Hey now hold on!” Stan laughed and shouted after her, taking off into the sky again.  

#Gravity Falls #My writing #Monster Falls AU #Mystery Farm AU #Stan Pines X OC

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 21

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N: CHILDREN SHIELD YOUR EYES!!! for those over 18, hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

I love you.

I love ... you.

Some words have the power to affect you and touch you more than an actual touch. I, love, and you are words as simple as words can be, they’re overused and sometimes used in ways that shouldn’t be used. They’re harmless. However put them together and suddenly you have a sentence that can haunt you or provide you with the best of feelings that can be experienced by someone. 

I love you. He’d heard that particular phrase several times at different times in his life, the first being with the very first girl he fell in love with and the last being with the last girl he would ever fall in love with. Love is such a pure emotion in its own, no hatred, no jealousy, no selfishness and the fact that it came from someone as pure as Y/N, it was just ... the best thing someone could hear. She loved him. Him, out of everyone. She loved him and he was speechless. The mob boss who constantly controlled the room and everyone around him, who always had the last word was speechless at the hand of the handmaid. Soft power, she embodied soft power and this was a pure demonstration of that trait. 

    - I’m so sorry ... I don’t know why I said that, you’re engaged to Gwen and I respect her so much. I ... - she was lost in her rambling. Why couldn’t she have kept her feelings in the darkest corner of her mind? Why would she tell him that? She shouldn’t have and before she could return to her quick apology and cover up what she thought to be a dagger and conversation stopper, he had pulled her chin towards his to kiss her delicately. She should’ve pulled back, part of her knew she should’ve pulled back but he was too much for a good kisser and she was too much involved into it for her to actually delve onto the consequences of her actions. 

   - If I knew you’d do this, I would given you a bag much much sooner. - was she wrong to be feeling this way? After all, no one is really capable of controlling their feelings, they’re just responses caused by hormones and the brain to various stimuli . She can’t choose them right? Then if she can’t chose she should at least feel guilty. This was Gwen’s husband to be, the same Gwen whose family supported her education and kept her alive all this years. But then again Gwen was never gonna love Sebastian, no, she wasn’t even gonna try to be his friend yet that didn’t mean it gave Y/N the right to commit adultery. Could it even be considered adultery if he wasn’t married yet? No, it is adultery and she shouldn’t commit adultery with the man standing in front of her. - Are you alright, angel?

   - I should go to bed. - she got on her feet, looking down at her cozy socks instead of his beautiful baby blues. - Good night, Sebastian. 

She had to get as far away from him as possible before she did something something like getting under him. How is she supposed to fall out of love with someone if she’s under him? Why would she tell him she was in love with him? Was she daft or did she have a dying wish? Locking the bedroom door behind her, she slid down the dark wood door, hand on top of her chest. How rude of her to just leave him there. He had been nothing but a sweetheart to her with pretty much copying her Christmas tradition in less than a day to make her happy, and let’s not even mention the bag that was compared to real estate. For shame, she had kissed not once, not twice but several times the very much off the market mob boss. Yet again, why should she care? Why should be so worried if Gwen was not? If his wife to be didn’t care and was more than happy to go around with as many men as she wanted despite the wedding ring on her polished finger, why should she care about who was with Sebastian?

Oh Sebastian. She had just left him there looking like a lost puppy. How could she do this? He had gone all the way to make her happy, he respected her and was the only person in her life so far who had actually been interested in listening to her opinions and actually ask her what she wanted. She owed him an apology, heck, she had been playing go and pull with him for quite some time so she owed him more than a apology. Yet again, why did she not just have her fun? If Gwen can have her affairs then why couldn’t she delve into her own passions with him? He clearly seemed willing but it’s wrong. However, what is right and wrong when you’re in the mob? There’s always a fine fine line between right and wrong. There’s no right and wrong, that’s what she used to hear from Mr. Forrest, only darker and lighter shades of grey. 

Did she believe that? She didn’t know. Different authors had different opinions and she herself din’t believe she would ever know the answer. What she knew was that before she realised what she was doing, she was walking barefoot against the hardwood floors and stood in front of the door of his bedroom. She knocked on the door with a less than willing strength. He didn’t take long to open the door, standing with his dark sweatpants and grey tee shirt. Y/N’s words escaped her, what was she gonna say? Couldn’t be stupider than telling a soon to be married man that she loved him. Should she start with an apology? Should she try and joke? No, she clearly wasn’t good at joking. Why wasn’t she speaking? She could feel him looming, eyes burning onto her face. 

   - Got something to say, angel? - there was a weird shift in atmosphere as she looked up into his beautiful cerulean eyes. There it was once more, the same pull accompanied by those characteristic sparks she had heard and read about. What is the point of going against the pull? It’s like facing two magnets and try to ensure they don’t stick together, eventually you tire yourself off. Finally, Y/N was tired and pushing her morals towards her friend into the back of her friend, she leaned in. 

Sebastian was caught off guard but he wasn’t one to complain, specially when it was her. His hands rested on her natural waist, pushing her body towards his. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her shirt, the sort of warmth that only he could provide and as such she held him closer, closer than ever before, ensuring he wouldn’t leave or become a figment of her imagination. Her hand slide into the curly mess that was his hair became whenever he didn’t pay attention to it. 

She didn’t consider herself an experienced kisser, in all honesty, she wasn’t experienced at anything relationship wise so once his tongue made his way into her mouth, stroking the roof ever so lightly she couldn’t help but choke in a moan, hand pulling at his hair. This seemed to incite him as he bit her lip, hands slowly descending to her lower back and her bum, giving it a little squeeze which made her smile through the kiss. 

   - You’re gonna run away from the again, angel? - he swiftly pulled back, closing the door behind them. 

    - I reckon that I care to choose to stay. - Y/N smiled, knowing she would regret it later but later is later and now is now and she’d rather be in the now. He leaned in to kiss her again, fingers toying with the much too short t-shirt of her sleeping garments. Part of her wished he would just take it off, wanting to feel his warmth all over. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him in lewd ways or how he looked under the pristine suits he always wore. At that thought alone, she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up. 

With a decisive grip, she held onto the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. What she came into her view was something that would water the mouths of everyone. She knew he was a good looking well built man but she wasn’t expecting him to be that ripped. Her hand slid down from his hair to rest onto his chest. 

   - I don’t think it’s a fair deal you seeing me with my shirt off while you’re fully dressed, angel. - stress spread through her whole body and she wondered if he was going to like what he saw once she removed her tee-shirt. She was almost entirely sure that she was not up to standards to please a man like him. 

   - Alright, turn around. - Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows at her request but decided to comply, turning around. After checking he was staring at the door and not at her, she pulled her shirt off throwing it to the floor where it pooled near his.

    - You are the most stunning thing I’ve ever come across. - she heard his raspy deep yet deeper than usual voice against her ear as he took a long stride towards her. 

His arms circled around her smaller figure and Y/N was sure she could feel her heart beating faster and harder on her throat when his hands ghosted over her chest, tightening around her perked bud. This sole action made her gasp loudly which caused him to softly hum in content against the back of her neck, moving the hand that circled over one of her breasts and running his thumb over the perked bud once to watch the young handmaid get goosebumps and squirm under his touch. Screw having power over a whole entire city, he would throw it all away so he could have this sort of power over her. 

    - You like when I touch you. Don’t you, angel? - He stated rather plainly with a hint of pride and she adverted her eyes from his hands. Her mouth opened to speak yet it closed as quickly as it opened once he pinched one of her buds without any prior warning. She tried her hardest to prevent a moan to slip out thinking it would make her sound like a desperate teenager but there was no stopping her quivering and shaking legs. He seemed to notice this, pulling her from the ground and laying her down on his bed. - Do you want to do this?

    - Yes. - she nodded her head furiously, worried that if she took a beat he would disappear in thin air. She stood there in his bed, head slightly raised as she watched every single step.

His eyes were darker than usual, a far cry from the baby blues that took over his iris and the stretched fabric on his crotch was a tell sign he was trying his best to control the situation which only made her more aroused and she could feel the wetness coming from her and sliding down her thighs which every once in a while rubbed against one another. 

He took his sweet time unbuttoning and zipping down his trousers as he stares down at her, wondering if he was having yet again one of his delusion dreams. However, her harsh breathing was much too real to be just a dream and her touch was much to intense to be a fantasy. He pushed his boxers and his trousers down past his knees and climbed onto bed, hovering above her, hands on either side of her head. 

Y/N was rather new to the whole array of sensations she was feeling yet all she knew was that she wanted to feel him, she wanted to touch him badly yet all her body seemed to be writhing under him, awaiting for release. However, he lost no time in getting rid of the white shorts as quickly as he could. Her eyes were gazed onto the ceiling, much to shy to actually look at what was happening. 

When he pressed down with his index finger on her clit and, skilfully, pushed aside her underwear, she found herself gasping lightly as she felt his warm roughed finger trace up and down her folds and then, to make it more torturous in a twisted pleasurable way, he adds another finger, circling her little bundle of nerves masterfully while his other fingers slip along her folds, slipping just enough for him to feel her soaking entrance.

   - Sebastian ... - she managed to blurt out, clinging to the arm whose hand continued to tease her masterfully and she herself was if she had hold onto him to get some relief from these new emotions or to stop him completely so she could regain her senses. 

  - It’s alright, angel, I’m here. - he smirked down at her, leaning close to her heated face, lips almost painfully touching. - You are so wet, so frustrated. I could just stare at you for hours.

   - Just do something. 

   - I am doing something, angel. Maybe I’ll just stop doing it ... - he answers , removing his fingers from her soaked folds and placing them in his sinful mouth, licking and sucking on them rather loudly to make her even more flustered, if that was even possible. 

Y/N stared at him as she tried to even out her breathing and calm down her beating-heart, thumping as hard as a rabbit thumps their small pawed feet on the grass. She thought she had read sinful things, she thought she had seen sinful things but nothing compared to watching his lick her juices off his fingers. Sebastian hummed and wrapped his tongue around the tips of his fingers. Once finished, he removed them with a loud pop. 

  - After all you did run on me ... several times - he added smugly, proud of the control he has holding over her head. - You’re lucky I adore you, angel. 

He pushed her stomach down on the bed, his hands, parted and one either side of her head, supporting his body height as he fit his knee in between her legs, slowly spreading her thighs apart, never for a moment leaving her gaze or letting her eyes wander anywhere else but him. He could just die happy looking at her like that.

Wrapping her spread legs around his waist, she could already feel his thick hard cock pressed against her entrance, making her choke out a moan and a few whines, both from anticipation, need, and pure unknown of what was going to happen next. She was sure she had never felt something like that before, so powerful yet needy at the same time. Stretching her arms to wrap around his neck, she buried her head against the soft sheets of the bed to which he smirked and leaned. Slowly, he pushed into her and she gasped, parting her lips just barely enough to let out a throaty moan. It was a weird feeling, painful but with the power to be something else and as he slowly continued to fill her the brim, she couldn’t help but let out moans and cries of both pleasure and pain as she felt him stretch her completely and that pain morphed into more of an unspeakable pleasure.

   - God fuck ... you’re tight. - he shut his eyes, groaning as he felt her walls contract around him, stilling his movements.

   - Fuck ... - she groaned, moving her hips from side to side which made him groan loudly, eyes snapping open. 

   - Don’t do that unless you want me to fuck you against the window so that the whole of the Upper East will know who you belong to. - those words came out like threats but the way she milked him made him smirk. - You do want that, don’t you, angel? Maybe some other day. 

  - Just move, please just move ... - she pleaded with whatever control of her voice she had left and with a crooked smirk, his hands slide down to her hips which he grabbed. Subtly, he yanked them up until he slide out of her womanhood completely before ramming himself back in, making her moan sharply and hide her face against his chest in an attempt to muffle her moans.

Y/N quivered and whimpered in his hold, shaking her hips with both excitement and pleasure as he repeated the same motion time and time again. His thrusts  heavy, hard and fast, and as both of them gradually started to reach their end, became sloppier and messier but still powerful enough to rock her body and the bed along with it. She could feel herself getting closer, closer and closer to some sort of unknown release until finally she felt as if her body went through a tiny explosion causing her walls to tighten around him and Sebastian, in turn and along with her orgasm, came within a few seconds after her. 

He slid out of her, rolling on his side while Y/N stared at the ceiling, still lost in what sounded like static and white like vision, breath returning to normality along with her body. 

  - Are you okay, angel? - he questioned, watching her roll on her side so she could look at him.

  - Peachy. - she breathed out, arms lifting up with whatever strength she had left to wrap them around his torso. Nuzzling her face against his chest, sleep soon came to both of them. 

The morning came soon after, tiny and weak rays of sun filtered through the windows into the mob boss’s bedroom. However, it wasn’t the light that woke them up but the incessant knocking on their door. Sebastian raised his head from his pillow, cursing whomever was knocking at the door.

Grabbing his boxers from the floor and quickly putting them on, he strode towards the door, pulling it open so hard that it could’ve removed it from the hinges hadn’t they been well placed.

   - Amelia, what is it? - he almost growled at the housekeeper, she however was unbothered by it, much too used to him at this point. 

   - We have a situation, Mr. Stan. 

   - What situation? - he asked in a much more polite tone of voice, noticing Y/N was watching them like a hawk in confusion. 

   - It’s Mr. Daniel Forrest ... he’s downstairs. 

   - How is he downstairs? No cars are leaving from the Upper East. 

   - I don’t know, sir. He is here however to take Miss Y/N to Mr. Forrest’s house ... for Christmas. He is rather impatient. 

   - For heaven’s sakes ... - he kicked the side of the door. In all the times the weather just had to get better right now, turning around to look at the girl still barely awake in his bed, he let out a sigh. He couldn’t force her to spend Christmas with him. All she wanted was to go home. - Angel, get your things, Daniel Forrest is here. 

   - Dan is here? - she perked up, duvet wrapped around her body as she collected her garments from the floor. - But I thought ...

   - Well, he is here and I don’t think he’s gonna leave unless you leave with him. Isn’t that what you wanted? - isn’t that what she wanted? She questioned herself as she got dressed, surely it was. She wanted to spend Christmas with those who had taken care of her, right? 

   - You must come with me then. We always have one more plate at our table and the house is awf ...

   - I have to work, angel. I don’t get days off, I told you that. 

   - I know and you can work there. It’s fine, I’m sur ...

   - Y/N. - he interrupted her. - Just go and get your things. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​​​ @stuffforreferences​ @thebadassbitchqueen

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan smut #mob!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan

[enemy-to-the-state]

Things I’m Starting to Question About Myself:

- I’m obsessive about time, being on time, all the time. When I was in the fifth grade, my mother was a teacher who’s classroom was right across the hall from my teacher’s classroom, meaning it was impossible for me to ever be late. However, without fail, every morning, I would stand at my mom’s classroom door, with my backpack on my shoulders, 20 minutes ahead of the bell, watching the clock. I needed to be On Time, no earlier, no later.

At first, my mother thought this was cute, but when it was a repeated action, she commented on how odd and weird it was, “You’re going to be on time no matter what, Ash; you don’t need to stand at the door.” I tried to listen, tried to Not wait at the door, but it made me feel so uncomfortable and wrong that I would run to the door with my backpack anyways, vibrating and intensely looking at the clock.

When I start getting closer to the time I need to leave to go somewhere, I get increasingly agitated. My dad meanders slowly. “Dad, please, it’s time to go.” I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet by the front door. He frowns, “C’mon, Ash, you’re gonna be on time, there’s no need for that kind of passive aggressive behavior.” Except, I wasn’t trying to be rude or passive aggressive, I’m just so nervous. I need to be on time.

I caught pink eye once, since I hadn’t known to address how unwell I was feeling beforehand, my father only found out that morning. I made my sister late for school. I felt so guilty that I wasn’t even focused on myself being sick. I kept thinking all day “God, I’m so horrible. I made her late. I made her late. I made her late.” My sister doesn’t even remember this, yet I can’t get it out of my head.

I was only late for school once, In 8th grade. It wasn’t my fault and was excused immediately, but I started to cry as soon as I got to my first period classroom, shaking. My teacher had no idea what to do, so she sent me out to the hall to cry it out.

- I had a deep fascination for shipwrecks, but specifically the Titanic.

When I was in the third grade, I read one 3rd grade reading level book on the Titanic and I was hooked. I wanted to no everything about it. I needed to know. How many people died? When exactly did it sink? What was found? What are those rust stalagtites that cling on to the ship underwater now? How deep is the Mariana Trench? Absolutely everything.

I read every book I could find about the Titanic, even books far above my reading level. I would read read read read read. My parents were like, “Awwww our little reading genius,” but I didn’t really care or recognize the reading level, I just cared about the Titanic.

When a program would come on about the Titanic or any shipwreck, I’d be like “No no no leave this on!” I needed to see it. More information was welcome.

I found a book in a drawer at my grandparents house about the Titanic. I read it all night.

When the topic was introduced I would start vibrating in joy, and info dump. “Ash, I didn’t need to know all of that.” ....”.....Ah okay, sorry.”

Even today, when I see something like Drain The Oceans or some Titanic Documentary, I’m like “I’m watching this Right Now.”

- I’m “careless”, and by that I mean that I’ve been labeled as “clumsy”.

I’m prone to dropping things,or having things slip from my grasp. People get mad, “You need to learn to be more careful.” But I’m trying. I’m watching my hands, looking where I’m going, and I still fuck up somehow.

I don’t know how much pressure to apply to the fridge’s filtered water dispenser. I grab a glass and push, but it was too much pressure because the glass slips, and water gets all over the floor. It’s been the same refrigerator for years.

I suck at sports that require any sort of hand-eye-coordination. Basketball? I sprained my finger because the ball bounced back at me off the rim. Football? I throw, but it goes way off mark. It’s the same for frisbee, volleyball, and even speedball. Sports that don’t require that, like skiing, hiking, kayaking, backpacking, or biking are all things I excel at.

- When I get nervous or excited I start getting “bouncy”

Like I mentioned in the time segment, I bounce on the balls of my feet when agitated. When i’m excited, I need to make some kind of motion like finger flicking, foot and/or leg bouncing.

I make a lot of unnecessary lip movements too, although I desperately try to hide that one in public (so the masks are kind of nice right now i guess) because I’ve been told it looks very weird.

- Eye contact is an issue.

I can make eye contact with people, but it is THE absolute worst. I hate it. It makes me feel wrong, scared, agitated, and a little bit threatened. Usually I stop just short of eye contact for people so they think I’m looking at them, but I can semi-get away with looking at their mouth or nose.

- There are certain textures I can’t deal with. I touch it, or even think about touching it, and I immediately need to touch something else more agreeable.

Examples include: rubber (why I hate to wear crocs), any socks tbh I usually go barefoot, styrofoam, chalkboard.

Touching or thinking about touching those things makes me shake because I’m uncomfortable, and I need to go touch like....sandpaper or something.

- Noises

It’s difficult to say, but it’s very very specific sounds and volumes that bother me.

Similarly to touch, I also hate the sound of styrofoam. It grates on my nerves. My sister thinks it’s sooooooooo funny that I’m bothered by the sound, so when she has styrofoam she’ll start squeaking it together just to bother me. I’m not amused.

My dad didn’t understand it when he was walking on metal with crocs, and it made this horrible high-pitched squeal, that I was so unnerved that it caused me physical pain. I had to put my hands over my ears to block it out. He says I was overreacting.

My mom had the volume on her laptop up. I couldn’t even stay in the same room.

There are a lot of sounds you don’t really think about. The electrical hum of your computer, the fish tank slightly bubbling, a tree branch hitting the side of the house softly. You think it’s quiet, but it’s not.

Anyways, I have no idea if this means anything. I’m still trying to figure myself out.

#long post #undiagnosed mental illness #autism #? #possibly #undiagnosed autism #god im so fucking confused #tw swearing #neurodiverse #neurdivergence #nd #neurodivergent

[hazelcmist]

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!” 

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented. 

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks. 

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

* 

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs. 

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.  

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.” 

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.” 

*

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down. 

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather. 

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse. 

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything. 

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#31 days of ficmas #doctorroseprompts #fic and chips #my writing

[fr-jedicreed]

Inescapable Punishment

TW: Abuse, body horror, gore, hints at sexual abuse

Note--all dragons are in gijinka’d forms, unless otherwise noted!

---

Moen couldn’t remember the last time he felt fresh air on his face. Had he ever been outside? He’d been in his master’s home and business for so long... He couldn’t remember. And...how did he get outside, anyways? Had he walked out of the building? Had Master brought him out here? Why? Master never let him out of the building...

Even his mask was gone. His eyes were covered with a cloth, but the mask was gone. He couldn’t see, but he could feel. And smell. He lifted his head, nose to the air, as he sniffed. So many scents...! What was going on? Curiosity got the best of Moen, and he wandered further. He smelled. He listened. The more he walked, the louder things got. Voices. Moving of carts. Machines. The sounds of footsteps. Moen felt his heart race with excitement. It was all so new...! Why had Master not let him go out? This was amazing!

A rare smile came onto his lips, as he started walking a little faster. He could hear more talking, feel the sun on his face, and--

“Whoa!”

Moen ran into something--someone--and stumbled back, tripping over his own feet, and landing on the ground. The one he ran into didn’t seem angry, though instinctively Moen flinched, tensing up for a blow. Instead, he heard movement, and that someone was close.

“You okay there, buddy? We crashed pretty hard.” they chuckled, though from what Moen could hear, they sounded male...

“M--Moen’s f-fine...” he wheezed, his voice sounding strange without the mask to filter it, making him tilt his head at his own, “Moen’s fine...”

“Strange way of talking, huh?” chuckled the one that was knelt down close to him, “You lost? You seemed to be looking around a bit. Though...erm...’looking’ as an objective term...”

He felt fingertips graze against the cover over his eyes and Moen jerked back, “N--No! D-Don’t touch! Moen’s...M-Moen’s eyes...are damaged. Master is taking care of th-them...”

“Er...Master?”

Moen nodded.

The one he ran into was silent. But before any more words could be uttered, something--someone else--bumped into Moen, nearly causing him to sprawl on the ground. Though he did anyways, as an angry voice hissed out.

“Watch it! Move it, you idiot!”

That was anger. That person was angry. Moen whimpered, covering his head, tensing his body up, ready for the blow. But it never came. The nicer voice spoke up instead, not angry.

“You move it!” he called out, before going back to Moen, “Hey, you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? C’mon, let’s get you out of the street.”

“S-Street...?” Moen raised his head. The ground underneath of him was vibrating slightly, with people, carts, and various other moving objects. Where ever they were, it was busy. Moen slowly stood up, though he flinched, as he felt a hand under his arm, helping him stand.

“Easy, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” said the other. His hand felt warm on Moen’s arm, and he couldn’t help but shake a little, wanting nothing more than to lean into that touch. How long had it been, since he felt a kind touch? Master hadn’t touched him in awhile, especially kindly. Maybe if Moen continued to be good, this one person will touch him some more...

“C’mon, let’s go get you some ice cream. You sound parched...!”

“Ice...Ice cream...?” Moen tilted his head, confused.

“Do...Do you not know what ice cream is?”

Moen shook his head.

The other sighed, but it wasn’t an aggravated sigh, “Man, you are missing out, my deprived friend. Let’s go broaden your horizons!”

--

Minutes later, Moen was sat down, with something cold in his hand. What was this? He moved his head closer to smell it, only to touch it with his nose. The coldness of it startled him, and he jerked his head back with a soft noise. The one next to him chuckled, and he heard him lick.

“Try it! You’re gonna love it, Moen.” he said, chuckling.

Moen tilted his head again, before turning to his ice cream. He moved closer to it once more, and stuck his tongue out, giving the cold treat a lick. Feeling it so cold on his tongue was weird, but it was so...!

“Sweet...!” squeaked Moen, making a happy noise, before going back to his ice cream. The other beside him laughed, gently patting Moen’s shoulder, making him lean into the touch with another noise.

“See? You’ve been missing out!” he laughed, good-naturedly. The two fell quiet for a moment, licking their ice cream, before the other spoke up again, “Say, uh...you keep saying ‘Master’ a lot. Is that literal, or just part of some...erm...play thing...?”

“Master owns me...Moen.” said Moen simply, taking another lick of his ice cream, “Whatever Master says, Moen does. Otherwise, Moen gets punished severely. A-And...And it hurts...”

“He hurts you, Moen?” asked the other, his voice soft and...concerned? Moen hadn’t heard concern in awhile. It made him pause, looking over at the other dragon. Or in his general direction.

“Only if Moen is bad...” wheezed Moen, nodding, “Moen tries t-to be good...honestly...!”

He whimpered, going back to his ice cream, mind flashing with images of the several, horrific punishments that his master had dealt out. He bore the scars of several of them. And his eyes, sewn shut, was another punishment...

“Hey, hey.” That gentle voice came again, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder, “Let me help you. Let me confront this master, and we can get you to freedom, okay?”

Moen whimpered, leaning into that gentle touch again, “B-But...”

“I can handle myself.” He could practically hear the other smile, “I may not look--erm, sound--like it, but I’m pretty strong! C’mon, let’s go have a ‘talk’ with this Master of yours.”

He heard the other stand up, and Moen followed, finishing his ice cream, “Moen’s master is the surgeon of the city. His name is Theadoch.”

“S-Surgeon? That creepy guy I keep hearing talk about?” asked the other, and Moen could feel him shiver.

“Moen’s Master is a good surgeon. Not good with others, but he does great work.”

There was a sound of movement from the other, before he gently took Moen’s hand. Moen almost instinctively jerked his hand back, but he grasped him tightly, fingers trembling as he let the other lead the way. Thoughts of freedom went through Moen’s mind, for the first time.

Would it be nice to be free?

Could he be free?

...Did he deserve to be free...?

It didn’t take them long to get to the building. He heard the other let out a low whistle, as they stopped at the front door, “It’s so creepy. Surgeon building, in the middle of nowhere, in some alleyway... Yeah, not suspicious at all.”

He sighed, and gently squeezed Moen’s hand, “Right, let’s go inside.”

Moen heard the door open, and he smelled the familiarity of the building, his home. His prison(?). They walked further in, and the one with him called out, the volume making him jump.

“Hey! Bastard, I need to talk with you about this guy!” he called out, “What gives you the right to--?!”

It happened so fast. Moen heard the door slam behind them. The other gave a shout. There was...a growl. A low, otherworldly growl. A rush of air.

Then Moen knew no more.

--

Moen woke up to a sharp pain in his side.

He groaned, as he slowly sat up. He felt at the pained side, relieved to feel no wetness. No bleeding. But it still hurt. Probably broken. The next thing he noticed, was there was a strange smell in the air. Moen sniffed, before carefully getting to his feet, holding his side. 

“F-Friend...?” he called out, his voice even more hoarse than before. He couldn’t feel the cover over his eyes. But the more he tried to open them, the more the sutures pulled at his skin, making them hurt. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore, so he kept them shut.

“M-Moen friend...?” he called out again, carefully moving down the hall. The smell was getting stronger. What was that? It was similar to how Theadoch’s operating room smelled, after a surgery. But it was different, at the same time. Either way, something twisted in Moen’s stomach. Something wasn’t right.

Something was very wrong.

“Fr...Frien--”

Moen paused, as his bare foot landed on something wet. It wasn’t water. Too thick to be water. And the smell was very strong now. He curled his toes, making the substance squish between them. He sniffed the air, turning slightly, hands out. When they touched something that wasn’t the wall, he turned towards it. His hands wandered over the thing in front of him.

Soft.

Wet.

Warm.

Moen’s breathing quickened, as his hands continued to explore. Everything felt wet. He felt something hard briefly, but it too, was covered in a wet substance. He heard a whistling noise in front of him. He reached up. He touched a face. 

Horror gripped him, and he let out a strangled, anguished cry, his trembling hands wandering over what used to be a person. What used to be someone who helped him, who talked with him and gave him ice cream. And while his eyes were sewn shut, his tears stung at the sutures.

The one that helped him was practically up on display. His arms were removed, leaving bloody stumps. His legs were degloved, and he was disemboweled. His chest had been ripped open, ribs broken and spread to look like wings coming from the gory hole in his chest. His lungs had been removed, attached to the ribs, as if a hanging decoration. And his throat had been all but ripped out, leaving him no way to scream. To top it off, his spine had been extended, making his head detached from his body, by a few extra vertebrae.

“This is what you get for disobeying me, Moen...”

Moen turned around, just before being backhanded and sent sprawling onto the ground, right into the fluids that coated it. Visceral fluids, not just blood...

Theadoch stood there, Arcane energy crackling around him, menacingly. He was upset. More than upset, he was angry. 

“You disobeyed me, Moen.” he hissed, before snarling, “I never gave you permission to go outside!! Why did you go outside?!”

“M-Moen just...just...” he stammered, before yelping out as he was grabbed by his hair, and pulled to his feet. Barefoot, he slipped on the fluids on the ground, nearly falling, if it wasn’t for the fist in his hair.

“You didn’t think, you useless sack of flesh.” growled Theadoch, shoving Moen aside, “You’re never to go outside without my permission, that should’ve been a given! And now, it’s time to punish you... And you need to be punished in a way that you’ll remember...”

Moen’s eyes widened, and for a split second, he saw through the sutures, as they ripped enough for him to see. The pain and blood in his eyes became too much, and he squeezed them shut, as tears mingled in, “I’m s-s....Moen’s sorry, p-please...! Don’t p-punish me, Master, please....!”

"Oh, there’s no begging out of this one, Moen.” purred the Arcane demon, a wicked grin coming onto his face, “Naughty boys get their guts rearranged, while they lay awake on my table.”

Moen sobbed out, and quickly fell to his knees, moving forward and grabbing a hold of Theadoch’s robes, “Th-Then u-use Moen, please...! I’ll do it, M-Moen won’t say or do anything, u-use me as y-your toy Master...!”

He obediently opened his mouth, drool dripping down, as he moved towards Theadoch’s crotch. But instead of something soft, he got a knee to the mouth as a ‘reward,’ making him cry out, as he sprawled on the ground.

“I’m too pissed to get off, you fool!” shouted Theadoch, stomping forward, “You don’t deserve to taste my dick, or have it inside of you. The only thing that’ll be inside of you, is my hands, as I remove your organs, and place them in reverse order, as you remain awake.”

He grabbed a handful of Moen’s hair, dragging him along. Moen struggled, crying out as he tried to get free. Tears and blood streamed down his cheeks, as he grabbed at Theadoch’s wrist, trying to free himself, his pleas falling on deaf ears.

Freedom was just a dream.

There was no freedom for him.

He let out one final scream, before the door to the surgery room was slammed closed. The force of the door made Moen’s only friend jar so much, that his head finally snapped off of his overextended spine, landing with a loud thud, into his own fluids...

#Clan Lore #c: Moen #c: Theadoch #MIND THE WARNINGS PLEASE #I posted this late I made a tactical error

[singingunderthecurtain]

God, Is That You? | 20190320

Author: @julietsoddeye​ Genre: Angst | Fluff | Fantasy AU Pairing: Xiumin x Female Reader (ft. Taeyong) Warning: Language | Mention of ONS

Plot: Dear Diary, hopefully this is just a dream because this is not how he said it should be!

A/N: This one is pretty long lol D:

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~A table, a very long one, ahead of you.

A grand flower centerpiece in the middle of it.

Layers of plates right to your front and millions of cutleries at the sides of said plates.

A lot of yummy-looking Chinese food is served, yet not a single strand of noodle is on your plate.

You noticed you are seated on one side of the “power seats”, in the middle. You look to your right and your department bosses are there with your immediate manager nearest you and on your left side sat your colleagues and, of course, Taeyong the closest.

Everyone seems to be in fun conversations, eating and drinking alcohol. But they do not make a sound. You can hear none of their cackles or the silverwares scratching the surface of the plates.

You tried picking on your ear and nothing happened. You called out to them and no one seems to hear you, yet you’re screaming bloody murder.

You tried standing up, but your butt is literally glued to the seat. You touched your behind and–holy shit!–you’re actually one with the gaddamn chair… —WAIT, no, your actual lower half IS the chair!!!

“WHAT IS HAPPENING, AAAAAAAAAAA!?!?!” you scream once again. 

Are you deaf all of a sudden, but you can hear yourself… Or do you just hear yourself in your mind? AAAAAAAAA

“Dang, you don’t have to yell— Can you please pass the chili oil?”

You suddenly hear something other than yourself.

“What?!” you called out again.

“I said… Pass me the gad-dang chili oil!”

You crank your attention to the direction of the voice, on the other side of the table across from you. It looks like he is miles away but you can see him crisp and clear. 

This… delicately ethereal-looking being has soft rosy hair, he’s wearing a creamy pink and white bomber jacket and a pair of cream pants. His–pinkiness–compliments his snowy skin.

Gosh, you haven’t seen such gracefulness in your life.

Wait, no, that’s a lie. Taeyong is handsome too. But /he/ is different...

“I can’t move, I’m a chair,” you said with a small voice.

“Haha, sorry about that!” he stood from his position and up in the chair he previously occupied. 

The aura suddenly changed and beams of luminescence suddenly shone behind him as he ascended slowly into the air.

“HOLY FU—” you stopped yourself from cursing, noticing that no one is paying attention to what was happening to him but you.

“God, is that you?”

“Silly, I’m not God. I’m just…” he started with a laugh as he forwards closer to where you are, still floating in the air like a divine being, “Well, you can say I’m a guardian. Your guardian.” he continues when his bare feet touch the ground in front of you.

Looking behind him, everything and everyone is gone. Not Taeyong, not a single one in sight. You’re now in a field of pink rose petals, several butterflies of different shapes, colors, and sizes flying around the both of you.

You see you have your feet back, barefoot just like he is. You wiggle your toes and giggle when the flower petals tickle your pads. You’re wearing a sabrina-neckline amaranth lace ball gown, the hem just a few inches above your knees.

You look up from below and he is just a few feet away from you, smiling serenely, watching your every action. Gosh, his beautiful monolid eyes are much, much more appealing up close. He’s not reacting any more than him smiling, probably waiting for you to talk again first.

“So… You’re an angel???” you carefully ask, your eyes narrow at him, brows raised waiting for a response.

“Ah, you’re so adorable,” his cheeks bunched very cutely when he grinned and expressed his adoration.

“Uhh…”

“But to answer your question, no, I am not an Angel.” he grins once again.

You can totally see his gums, but it's so cute and his teeth are so cute and he's so cute. UWU

“BUT!!!” before you can even react he exclaims, “I will give you a gift.” He continued.

“A gi—”

He suddenly plunks his right pointer finger on your lips, stopping you from talking any further.

“Shh, shh, shh. Stop talking, you just listen, okay?” he widens his eyes at you and you have no other choice but to widen your eyes as well and bob your head as a reply.

“When you wake up, you will be in a much better time… Or at least the beginning of a better life for you. A life you always wanted.”

His hands are holding your shoulders tightly. Not tight to a point that it causes discomfort for you, but just tight enough for you to have a hint, a little taste, a tinge of his excitement. You smiled when his smile widened.

“But be careful of men… Some men.”

And just that, his elation dips. You dare not reply.

“Okay?” he asks and you just nod again.

“Okay.” and his smile is back.

“I am going to wake you up now, okay?” he slowly pushes you back and when he stops, his hands leave your shoulders and you can already feel the dreariness of his absence.

The cute, pink-haired angel, God, celestial being, guy—inhaled and then exhaled—before suddenly giving you a quick peck on the lips.~

As you opened your eyes, you thought, ‘holy crap!’

“When you wake up, you will be in a much better time… Or at least the beginning of a better life for you. A life you always wanted.”

Those words flutter in your mind. You can still hear a trace of his voice ringing in your ears.

And he kissed you, he said he will wake you up and then kissed you… And then you wake up, and…

“Damn,” you rub your eyes to wake yourself up and then grab your phone to check the date.

Of course, it’s still the twentieth. It was just a weird dream. Did you honestly believe that?

Although, last night, talking with that guy from that dating app definitely took your boredom away.

You messaged each other nonstop for three hours straight, no joke. If you haven’t fallen asleep, you probably have texted longer.

He sent you pictures of his cat and you sent him pictures of your plants. He said he wanted to start taking care of plants too, but he’s suddenly become busy with the family business. 

Something about his dad wanting to suddenly retire and wanting XiuMin to take over as soon as they possibly can handover everything. You forgot to ask what business it was, but it’s probably a restaurant or a cafe of sorts ‘cause he said he and his dad bond over food a lot.

In that span of three hours, each of you has shared a lot about the other and connected so well. You feel like you already know him just by those tiny details he shared. 

Like that time he told you he was at the park drinking his afternoon coffee and some pigeon decided to invade his space, wanting to steal his pastry. He said he hates birds, but by the sound of his story in your mind, he’s probably afraid of them. Cute.

The thing though is, you don’t know what he looked like yet.

You never asked him what he looks like so he never bothered to ask you for selfies either. You do have pictures on your profile, but all of it has animals or cutie, kinda kiddie, filters that alter your face.

Well, that doesn’t matter, for now, you’re just bored. You’ll probably stop talking with this guy after you come back to work.

But when you woke up the next morning, you had about twenty messages from him. Two of which he realized you probably fell asleep as it was pretty late, but the rest are random things he asked your opinions about.

Of course, you replied. One apology for the non-reply from last night and then one answer for each thing he asked about. Gosh, you finally found it! The thing, or in this case a person, that will occupy you for the rest of your unwanted break from your routine.

BUZZ!

Wow, your shuttle food delivery is early. That’s kinda suspicious, but eh. You’re hungry now, just in time. You thoughtlessly open your door without peeking at your security monitor first and Taeyong’s face pops out.

“What are you…” you started.

“Doing here?” he chimed. 

You finish each other's sandwiches, apparently.

Taeyong pushes in, carrying three bags of food. Wow, more food. 

“You weren’t answering my texts and calls, I thought you died, dude.”

You told him you were embarrassed by what happened. By your temporary termination. He said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s ‘part of growing up’, like what he usually says to you about, well, almost everything. Which kind of makes sense a lot, weirdly.

Not like you have control over what the management decides on, he said. And you agree. You don’t even know why you previously felt that way, especially with Taeyong? The Taeyong who has heard you burp like a man but still chooses to be your friend? 

But he said it’s cool and he forgives you, he said that very smugly when you didn’t even ask for forgiveness. You roll your eyes at him and playfully hit his shoulder.

You both spent the rest of the night eating and playing your favorite game on your console.

And right after your head hits your pillow, you realize you completely ghosted XiuMin for hours!!!

You quickly type a small sorry and explanation as to why you were M.I.A all day, which you know is not necessary, but you wanna do it cuz you enjoy talking with him and don’t want to make him feel like you’re finally done with him, or whatever.

Not bothering to wait for a reply, you instantly fell asleep.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

WEDNESDAY | 20190320 — 3 things happened: 1.  Had a super weird dream. 2.  Met this XiuMin guy on Thunder last night and we connected??? 3. Taeyong visited me.

WTF OwO

#exowritersnet #exosnet #THUNDER as in TINDER lol #exo #xiumin #exo xiumin #Kim Minseok #minseok #fic #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #exo fic #exo fanfic #exo fan fic #exo fanfiction #exo fan fiction #xiumin fic #xiumin fanfic #xiumin fan fic #xiumin fanfiction #xiumin fan fiction #minseok fic #minseok fanfic #minseok fan fic #minseok fanfiction #minseok fan fiction #fantasy au #exo fantasy au

[peakatseven]

🎸 happiness, because this song is my spirit animal lol

And if you'd like you could do these too, I'm super indecisive so I couldn't shortlist oops. You don't have to do them all, I'm just horrible at choosing:

🌕 across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise

📖 +📜 I'm curious

Congratulations on 700!!

u gave me a reason to go back and review some of what i already wrote for this novel which comes in really handy the day before camp nano starts SOO thank you so much ily <3 i dont have my guitar with me rn so i cant do the cover just yet, im sorry, BUT i can do this:

here’s a lil snippet of my work in progress “Swing By The Lake”. I’m really proud of how this scene turned out even though i put off writing it for the longest time because i hate writing sex scenes. it’s not an actual sex scene, but it pretty clearly leads to that. kindda weird that this is the first thing that you’re gonna read from me because i NEVER write sex scenes but whatever it’s actually pretty significant to the plot because it’s the start of Charlie realizing how much she actually cares for Agustina which is just... *sigh* perfect

things u should probably know before this: charlie is a 17 y/o girl who’s vacationing in this beach town where she met Agustina, a 21 y/o photographer from Argentina who is also on a trip in this beach town. they’ve been hanging out at the cliff of the hill that separates each other’s houses for most of the summer, both at sunrise and sunset because that’s just what people do in the argentine provinces and its also romantic af. it also kindda fits the feeling of your writing prompt so its a win win! i hope you enjoy this :)

~ i’m celebrating reaching 700 followers!! so if u want to, you can send me some of these and ill do my best to create something cool for you! ~

Charlie opened her eyes after what felt like a few seconds. The room was still dark, but she was restless. Looking out the window, the moon shined full and bright over the still ocean. In a split second decision, she grabbed a sweater before heading down to the beach. With her shoes on her hand, she walked along the shore. The water ran up to her calf sometimes, a bit too cold when mixed with the fog that filled her lungs. Charlie wondered whether it was too late or too early to be out by herself, but there was no better hour to sort things out in one’s mind. If it was truly Noemi who had seen Charlie and Agustina together at the beach, why hadn’t she come to tell her parents already? Was she really going to keep the secret for Charlie without her even asking? It was hard to believe. Noemi must be up to something, waiting for the right time and way to say it. Or to gather evidence. But, why? Was there really a chance for Charlie to deny her accusations and get away with it? As all the possible—and impossible—scenarios came to her, Charlie collected pebbles from the shore, her long nightgown served as a great bag to store them momentarily. She came to realize that it was near impossible to be anxious or fearful in such a calm atmosphere. Alone in the beach, under the stars and surrounded by mist, touching the water while collecting stones. Silence only being interrupted by the ocean against her freezing legs. It was as if God tried to comfort her with nature. As she kept walking, there were more and more stones underneath her feet. So much so, that by the time she came to the end of East-Watch beach, it hurt to walk barefoot. Charlie got away from shore and sat on a stone at the bottom of the hill. The same one where she’d had breakfast with Agustina almost 24 hours prior. She put on her sandals and made a split second decision. It almost didn’t come as a surprise when she found Agustina sitting on the cliff, just like the time they were both there for the first time. The foreigner couldn’t see her, but she was most certainly aware of her— the stones bounced on one another as she walked. Charlie sucked in a breath and walked slowly closer to Agustina. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was right, it was a much wiser decision to just leave and never talk to her again. Deny everything Noemi might claim once they were back home and forget that whole summer even happened. It was a wiser and safer choice. Yet there she was, hand over the lady’s shoulder, almost touching. “Why are you here?” She said without turning around. Her voice was cold, colder than the fog or the ocean. This one froze Charlie inside out. Silence. “If you are not going to say anything, you should just leave.” Charlie breathed in to speak, but her mouth didn't obey. She remembered the last time they were together and how abruptly she'd run away. Agustina had nothing to do with Noemi, she didn’t know how terrifying it was to see her at that beach. And to top it all, Charlie avoided her when she walked, probably the entire way, to The Saltbox Inn just to see her. What was there to say after hurting her in such a way? "I'm sorry doesn't cover it." She finally spoke, sitting down and leaving the stones just behind Agustina. She didn't turn, but her breathing was louder. Faltering. Charlie hadn't noticed from afar, but Agustina went there to cry. "Oh, Agus." She said as she sat down behind her and embraced her into a hug that wasn’t reciprocated. "I'm so sorry." "Why are you here?" Agustina's voice was weak, it broke Charlie to hear such a light-hearted lady like Agustina be in such pain. And it was because of her. "I couldn't sleep." "Why?" Charlie took in a deep breath. "The other day, I thought someone from my town was there and saw us." Charlie said, she rested her forehead against Agustina's hair. She meant to go for a kiss on the cheek, but she was turned away. "So you naturally pushed me and ran off." Agustina scoffed. Charlie was speechless. She hadn't really been thinking at the time. Hell, she barely even remembered what actually happened. "And

then you never came back or called. And then when I walked the entire way to your place… you saw me, and ran away as fast as possible. Again. Of course I'm sorry doesn't cover it." "But I am sorry, Agus, please tell me what can I do to make it better?" Charlie's own voice cracked a little. She felt awful for hurting the girl beside her, she'd done nothing but given her the best summer she'd had in years. "Charlie." Agustina sighted and covered her face with her hands, shaking herself away from Charlie's hug. They were still side by side at the cliff’s end, their legs lightly brushing against one another as they swung with the wind. But to Charlie, not hugging Agustina felt like they were miles apart. She sat back before speaking. "Come here, please." Charlie begged. Agustina lightly turned her head, giving Charlie a chance to catch those slightly swollen green eyes. In an attempt to lighten the situation, she grabbed one stone and threw it over the cliff. It bounced off of a stone and then made it to the calm ocean, which brought a hint of a smile to Agustina’s face. "Please." She offered another stone out to the Latina, who grabbed it and sat back and rested her back on Charlie. Charlie pulled her closer, just enough so she could hold her with both arms around her waist. The sun must have been rising at that moment, because Agustina's face lit up in all the shades of blue. She threw the stone over the cliff, but Charlie didn’t hear whether or not it reached the ocean. She was too hung up on how Agustina’s lips looked especially soft from the side, glistening with what remained of her tears. Charlie brushed her thumb over the lower lip as softly as possible. "I'm sorry." She whispered before going for a quick kiss barely on the side of her mouth. "I'm sorry." She repeated and leaned closer, asking for permission. Agustina slightly turned and that was enough. Unlike any other kiss they had shared before, this one felt like they were both savoring every second. They were both so depraved of the other that every moment, every move was sacred. "I'm sorry." Charlie whispered as she moved from Agustina's lips to her jaw, drying the new tears with her own lips. She kept apologizing in between her approaches. All she wanted was to make Agustina feel better. She did everything she could think off to comfort her. Charlie kept kissing every inch of Agustina’s exposed skin, staring into her eyes before going further— silently asking if it was okay to do so. Charlie let her body take over without giving much thought to her actions. They were soon enough throwing their clothes aside, condemning everything that dared come in between them. There was nothing Charlie wanted— needed— more than to be closer to Agustina. As close as humanly possible. She needed to take the pain she caused away. “Charlie.” Agustina sighed when Charlie reached her stomach. She used a tone Charlie had never heard before. It reminded her of the prayers sung at Church, delicate and desperate with a hint of fear. Charlie froze. “Is this okay?” Agustina let out an audible sight, caressing Charlie’s cheek with her fingers, softly guiding her to look up.  Agustina’s eyes were still a bit red, but they were also a slightly darker shade of green. “I-” She looked for the right words to speak. “You don’t have to do this.” “But I want to.” Charlie answered without missing a beat. She smiled shyly at the older girl, looking down as she soon realized what she had just said and what was about to happen. “But… I don’t know how…” She trailed off, resting her forehead on Agustina’s belly. “It’s okay,” She whispered. “I’ll guide you.”

#asks #micha's 700 celebration! #tswiftie #writing #sbtl

[wtf-yoongi]

Don’t let it fade.

pairing | seokjin x reader

genre/warnings | i feel like this broke my heart so yeah some heartbreak involved (a lil bit of angst but mostly just how two adults should deal with problems when they happen)

words | 1,229

note | loosely based on twenty something by nightly. give it a listen (youtube // spotify) if you want to suffer an extra 28%

You’re both sitting on opposite sides of the living room. This living room you’ve shared for three years now. The living room you’ve painted a light shade of turquoise for some weird reason last summer.

With both your hands running through your hair, you look like a mess. You’re sweating even though you feel cold, there’s a stubborn tear threatening to fall at any second, and your whole body is shaking lightly from what is happening right now.

What is happening anyway? In seven years together, you can’t remember the last time this has happened. Has it even happened? Did it ever come this far?

Thinking about it now, you don’t even know how things escalated so quickly. It was a normal night. You got home early for a change, had enough time to take a shower and wash your hair thoroughly before rummaging through the kitchen for something that could easily turn into your dinner – something you could make for both of you.

Jin is always the one to cook at night, like it’s part of an unwritten deal you both agreed on many years ago. You get breakfast, he gets dinner. Lunch is whatever's leftover from dinner and you can take to work. And that’s it.

Oh, yes. You remember. That is where everything started. You were in the kitchen and there was an official-looking envelope already half opened. You took it and opened it and read its contents and now you wish you didn’t.

You finally raise your head to face Jin, who is sitting with his hands on his face and elbows being supported by his knees. He’s still in his work clothes: a pair of light gray dress pants paired with a dark blue shirt that accentuated his light skin. Everything you love, but can’t bear to look at right now. He’s taking deep breaths as if he’s also trying to retrace a few steps and remember where the conversation took the wrong turn.

First of all, he shouldn’t have hidden that from you. That is something you can both agree on. Second of all, you were not supposed to find out this way.

“Look,” Jin is the first to break the silence after you both had time to cool down a little. “I am sorry. I should have told you I was considering it. We should have talked about it months ago.”

“But you didn’t,” you state the obvious. “You lied to me for months. How the hell am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

He takes one long moment before finally answering. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You’re both staring at each other now and you feel it in your bones. There’s a pain that comes from within, from whatever depths of your soul, that simply can’t be stopped. Looking at Jin hurts now like it never did before. It was always a “hurts so good” kind of feeling – a so cute it hurts, so caring it hurts, so charming it hurts, or even so annoying it hurts, but now there’s nothing left of that.

How does one move on from this? Is there such a thing as going back to what it was before when it happens or does it scar you forever?

You close your eyes and curse under your breath. Jin clearly hears it. “I can’t deal with this right now, I need time. Just give me time.”

You suddenly get up from the couch, a little out of balance as your legs seem to tremble a bit and have a hard time taking your weight. You’re barefoot, taking steps into the bathroom again, still stuffy from the shower you’ve taken earlier. You clean the mirror with the sleeve of your sweater and face someone who looks scared and lost and you can’t believe that’s actually you. There’s no way. You could be tired, you could have huge bags under your eyes, you could be in desperate need of a haircut, but never like this – like someone who doesn’t really know if they’re ever going to recover.

You brush your teeth and decide to go to bed.

The next morning, it feels like everything was just a horrible nightmare for a few moments. There’s a tiny bit of hope inside of your head as you extend your arm to your right to feel that, in fact, the bed is cold. Not only cold, but completely untouched.

That ache in your chest is back stronger than ever. 

If anything, your head is a little clearer. The letters and words printed on that piece of paper seem to have sinked in. It’s your reality. It’s Jin’s reality. There’s no denying that. There’s just what is going to be done. What you are going to do.

As you drag your feet to the living room and kitchen area, you pray that Jin is there and not there with equal strength. You want him to be there, sleeping on the couch with a comforter and his hands between his knees, but you also don’t want to deal with this right now.

For your relief and desperation, Jin is actually exactly as you predicted. He must have taken a shower after you went to bed and picked up a comforter to sleep on the couch. He is on his side with both hands between his knees, but his usual expression of calmness is replaced with a light frown.

At first, you try not to get too close, but he has to wake up in 15 minutes anyway to get to work in time, so you might as well wake him up delicately – you just can’t help it. It pains you to get this close, to lightly touch his shoulders, and even more when he opens his eyes to face you with a look of curiosity and, at the same time, uncertainty. 

None of you say anything for a few heartbeats until you grimace and let go of him, as if the connection burned your fingertips or caused an electric shock. His expression falls completely.

“Sorry, I just wanted to wake you up so you’re not late,” you make up an excuse and quickly stand up again. He doesn’t know the time, he won’t notice, right?

Why are you acting like he’s a complete stranger in your house?

“Hey,” he says, sitting down on the couch to get closer to you. “Can we talk about it? I mean, really talk about it. Yesterday I feel like we were just saying things, not talking about it.”

“I…” You turn in the direction of his voice, but can’t really face him. “I don’t think I can do that right now.”

Jin stands up now, taking one wide step towards you. He means to touch your arm, but you instinctively dodge to avoid him. If you looked up, you would see the look of pain in his face too. He takes a deep breath.

“I need you to promise me something and I know I’m not in a position to ask anything of you, but I need you to promise me anyway,” he says in a rush, forcing the words out before he breaks down completely. “You know how you just woke me up? Quietly? Delicately?”

He waits for a reaction from you, but you can’t move.

“Whatever made you do that. Don’t let it fade.”

Read more ›› masterlist

#seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin fanfic #jin fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts au #jin au #seokjin au #kim seokjin #jin imagine #seokjin imagine

[otterknowbynow]

Have Agency, Will Travel (1/3)

Not much surprises Alexis these days, but Klair coming to town isn't something she ever expected, and neither is the series of events that follows.

Set immediately after 4x10 "Baby Sprinkle"

also on ao3

Walking out of the noise and lights of the bar is a bit disorienting, but Alexis can’t help but smile as she leaves the bright room behind. Her business card is still in her hand inside her purse, and she rubs the surface of it with her thumb, feeling the letters of her name -- she can’t really identify them by feel, but it’s enough to know they’re there. It’s enough to know she’ll still be running her own life tomorrow. 

She moves toward the stairs without really thinking about it, her mind focused on how proud she is of turning Klair down. Shows growth, she thinks, still smiling to herself, before she nearly trips over someone sitting on the edge of the steps. 

“Oh, sorry!” She holds her hands out in front of her, fingers gripped loosely. “I didn’t see you there! Didn’t really, um, expect anyone to be…” The girl looks up at her from under the brim of a gray stetson and Alexis trails off, taking in the teary face and slightly smudged eyeliner. “Oh, babe, you really should’ve invested in a decent waterproof.” 

“You know what’s wild? I did,” says the stranger, her laugh sounding a bit forced. “But Klair -- she said I should use this one, because it looks more birthday-y, or something.” 

“Oh my God, you’re Albany.” She must be, sitting there with her peasant-sleeve floral wrap dress that would’ve been on trend a couple years ago, blond hair spilling out of the stetson and down to her shoulders -- which Alexis has to admit, does give her an arguably adorable off-hours ranch hand look. Albany raises her eyebrows and nods. Alexis can hardly control her hands, trying to make six different apologetic gestures at once. “I’m so sorry, Klair never actually um, clarified. Which one you were.” 

“Yeah, she never really does.” The dress ripples around her shoulders when she shrugs, which only seems to emphasize the absurdity of that statement. It’s a cute dress -- a look that would fit in here, Alexis realizes, and the thought is strangely comforting.

“Why aren’t you in there with them? Isn’t it your birthday?” Alexis reaches around the back of her hair, smoothing out a nonexistent bump. 

“Oh, yeah, but Klair won’t notice for a bit, and I needed a little quiet, you know?” Her voice is entirely matter-of-fact, but Alexis can’t help but register that her nose is red from crying, and can only guess the tears ended moments before. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she says slowly, though the rest comes out in a rush as she sits down on the step next to Albany. “But Klair is a terrible best friend, and you should really consider getting a new one.” She’s not sure why she says it -- why she thinks any friend of Klair’s would trust her, but there’s something about Albany that seems warm, inviting the kind of sincerity Alexis has been getting more used to living here than she ever was pre-financial catastrophe. 

“Weren’t you guys best friends for, like, years?” Albany looks at her sidelong from under the brim of her hat, and Alexis frowns. 

“Mhm,” She nods a couple times, looking over Albany’s shoulder at the treeline. “Yeah, yeah we were, and um, we’re not. Anymore.” She brings her eyes back to Albany’s face, smiles at her, all charm. “That’s the important part.”

“What changed? I mean I can’t -- I can’t really imagine not having her in my life.” Albany’s smiling too now, though there’s a layer of sadness to it that Alexis doesn’t think is matched in her own. 

“Oh, we fell out of touch,” Alexis says breezily. “After my family, well.” She stops and raises her eyebrows.

“I heard,” Albany confirms, nodding. “Klair talks about it, like, all the time.” 

“Does she?” Alexis asks lightly. She reaches into her purse and pulls out an emery board to start filing her nails -- it’s an old trick, makes it easier to avoid having to make eye contact, relaxes people. 

“Yeah, she says you dropped off the face of the planet and ended up living in some shitty little town --” Albany cuts off with a snort. “Oh, no, I didn’t realize it’s, like, literally --” 

“-- mhm, yeah, I know,” says Alexis quickly. “It’s not so bad, though.” 

“Yeah?” Albany sounds skeptical, and when she looks up again Alexis sees her eyebrows are raised. But she can’t see anything in Albany’s face that isn’t sincere curiosity.

“Yeah,” says Alexis decisively, tucking the emery board back into her purse so she can focus on getting this point across as clearly as possible. “It’s actually kind of cool to be somewhere you can, like, try new things, and people are less judgy.” She purses her lips and puts her hands out in front of her to emphasize. “Well, not so much less judgy as differently judgy? Like, they still judge, but it’s in a nice way, like their hearts are in the right place.” Albany laughs at that, and Alexis smiles. It feels nice to make someone laugh like that. 

“I thought you’d be more like her,” says Albany quietly when she stops laughing, and there’s something in her eyes that wasn’t there before, something that makes Alexis suddenly aware of her own heartbeat.

“I was,” she says, looking away. She’s pretty sure she’s blushing based on the heat in her cheeks, embarrassed at remembering just how alike she and Klair used to be. “And, um -- I still am, in some ways.” 

“Oh? Name some,” Albany says, tilting her head, which causes a lock of her hair to fall across her face. She blows it away impatiently, and it’s Alexis’s turn to laugh. 

“Um, that, for one -- laughing at you just now is totally mean.” She can’t help but keep grinning, though, and Albany grins back. 

“That was my own stupidity doing that,” Albany says, still smiling. “You get to laugh at that and not be considered mean.” Her eyes are soft, the smile reaching them easily. They’re a shade of brown Alexis is used to considering boring, but they’re nice when combined with that smile, she thinks. 

“Fair,” Alexis says. “But I’m a little bit like her in the selfishness department, for sure, since I have, like, a lot of work to do since I turned down that job and all, and I’m gonna leave you on these steps and head home without really making your night that much better.” 

“You made it better,” says Albany seriously, and she’s not smiling now. Alexis’s breath catches a bit at the intensity in her eyes, and she lets it out deliberately. 

“Oh,” she says, with a bit of a shaky laugh, hands dancing over her purse again, trying to decide if she needs to take her emery board back out or something. She gathers herself enough to shoot a grin, a bit crooked, at Albany. “Well, I’m glad I could help, then.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” There’s that quiet voice again, and before she knows it Albany is leaning in to brush her lips softly over Alexis’s own. She freezes, even her hands stilling, and she’s pretty sure she stops breathing entirely for a moment as Albany draws back. She has no idea what expression is on her face -- and no idea what’s on Albany’s either, because she can’t bring herself to look. She’s hot all over, her lips tingling where Albany’s aren’t touching them anymore. 

“Um, no problem,” Alexis says quickly, standing up, her heart hammering. “I’ll, um -- I’ll see you.” She tries to sound casual, adjusting her purse strap with both hands to keep from giving away that they seem to be shaking a bit. What was that? What was that? As she starts to walk away, she brings a hand to her mouth, as if she could maybe feel something there that would make this less...something.

“Okay, see you around, Alexis.” If she were capable of more thought, she might have registered the question in Albany’s voice, but she can’t register much of anything right now but her own bewilderment and the need to get back to the motel and lie down, right now, immediately. 

It’s not that she hasn’t kissed girls before -- she has. But maybe she hasn’t, not really -- not if really means actually feeling anything when their lips touch hers, the way Albany’s...God, what is she, twelve? It was barely a peck. It shouldn’t have made her go all weird and flustered. Of course, maybe that didn’t have anything to do with Albany at all. Maybe it was just because she was so tense -- after dealing with Klair, and all the planning for singles week with Twyla -- besides, she’s never fallen for someone that quickly! People fall for her immediately, sure, but that’s different. Besides, she’s only ever been into men, at least before...maybe that’s what it was. Maybe Albany being so sweet just reminded her of someone else -- 

She cuts that thought off as she walks up to the motel door, shoes swinging in one hand. Barefoot is better than heels for most of the road on the way back from the bar, and she’d needed the walk to think -- or rather, to clear her head and try to not think. She takes a deep breath now and steels herself to open the door. David will be able to smell a weird mood a mile away, and she can’t deal with him right now. Alexis reaches out to open the door, talking quickly in what she hopes is a normal tone of voice for her as she does. 

“You would not believe the audacity Klair had, to ask me to --” She cuts off, suddenly realizing she’s speaking to an empty room. Right. Jocelyn’s baby shower -- sprinkle, whatever -- that was tonight. Maybe he’ll even go to Patrick’s afterward and she won’t have to deal with anyone until the morning. Alexis breathes a sigh of relief and sits down heavily on her bed, reaching down to drop her shoes and examine the damage to her feet. Oh, it’s bad. She’s kind of amazed she managed to walk home without noticing -- is that growth also? She’s tougher, now? Rugged, even, she thinks proudly, getting up to walk to the bathroom to wash her feet. They really are terribly ragged. 

David comes in as she’s finishing putting on some foot cream she helped herself to from the store’s inventory last week. He shoves into the room not-very-gracefully, holding a bundle of balloons he probably doesn’t want but was made to take home anyway, and has to try three times before he manages to get them all inside and shut the door. So much for not dealing with anyone until the morning, Alexis thinks, glad for the extra moments to compose herself.

“Having an interesting night, are we?” David asks finally, as he drops the weight the balloons are attached to in the corner of the room nearest the window, slapping them back a bit with his hands when a few float toward him.  

“That’s one way of putting it,” Alexis says primly. She pulls on her thinnest pair of socks and steps over to the bathroom to wash the extra foot cream off her hands. 

“What’s wrong with your feet?” David asks more directly when she comes out of the bathroom again. “Is it something I need to worry about? If you have athlete’s foot and you haven’t told me --”

“Ew, David, no,” she says, grimacing. 

“I am just saying -- we share a shower. You’re legally obligated to tell me if you have something contagious.” Alexis rolls her eyes and groans, picking up the tub of foot cream and holding it up, her eyebrows raised. 

“I hope you paid for that,” David says, and Alexis groans again, putting it down on the nightstand so she can flop onto her bed and throw an arm over her eyes -- which are weirdly tearing up, she notices. Cool. Life is stressful enough without brothers interrogating you about gross foot fungus, without girls randomly kissing you on the steps of bars and making you wonder if you even know yourself. Maybe she’ll just stay like this forever. Let the arm of her dress soak up her tears even if she’s not totally sure why she’s crying. It’s almost a minute later when David speaks again. 

“Hey, are you...okay?” She takes her arm off her face slowly and turns to see he’s standing between their beds, looking down at her, probably taking in that she’s still fully dressed and hasn’t even taken off her makeup, let alone gotten her sleep mask or actually, you know, gotten under the covers of her bed.

“Yep.” Really, what else can she say? ‘A girl kissed me and I reacted like I’d never felt the touch of a human and maybe I’m not as straight as I always thought I was after all’? ‘She’s leaving in the morning and somehow I’m super sad about it even though I just met her an hour ago’? ‘I’m planning a singles week for other people to find love and I’m pretty sure I never will again, given how weird tonight has been’?

“Okay, I doubt that,” David says, gesturing at, well, presumably everything about her right now. “What is this -- is this about Ted?” 

“No.” Maybe by some weird association gymnastics her brain feels like doing. Maybe if she spirals about it too hard. “I’m fine.” He shoots her a look that’s more skeptical than usual, then throws his hands up dramatically. 

“Fine, never mind, I don’t want to know. I am. Exhausted.” He’s still standing, though, and crosses his arms over his chest, looking at her. 

“Are you trying to reverse psychology me?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbows. “Because it’s not going to work. We read about it in the negotiations unit of my sales class.” David shrugs, doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move a muscle. “Ugh, okay,” she says, letting her breath out all at once in a huff. “Klair’s friend Albany...she kissed me, and I kind of freaked out.” David blinks at that and shakes his head slightly, like he has to reshuffle his thoughts or something. 

“Okay, several questions,” he says after a moment. He holds up a finger. “One, Klair as in Klair-with-the-German-au-pair who spent our whole childhood teaching you to be the worst version of yourself?” Alexis rolls her eyes at that description, but it’s not like she can refute it.

“That’s the one.” 

“What is a friend of hers doing here?” 

“They’re on a trip,” she says. “Because they felt like being random.” She forces a laugh -- she’s going for sarcastic, but it comes out sounding more bitter than she means it to. 

“Also, Albany? Really?” 

“David, you once dated a guy named Yorkshire,” she says with a snort. “I don’t see how you’re in a position to talk.” 

“Anyway,” he says, pressing his lips together, which means she won that one, Alexis notes with some small bit of satisfaction. “Why would a girl kissing you freak you out? You did your whole party girl kiss-anybody phase for, like, years.” 

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” says Alexis, sitting up entirely so it’s easier to look at him. “But for some reason this was...different.” She hasn’t figured it out herself yet -- how does he expect her to have a clear explanation for him? Her eyes well up again, and she grabs a tissue from the box on the nightstand irritably, dabbing at them. 

“Different how?” 

“She meant it,” she says, and as the words come out, she realizes they’re true. That is how it’s different. When she’s kissed girls before it’s been a stunt or a game -- or the result of some very not sober situations. It’s never been...genuine. It’s never been nice. 

“Ah,” says David, finally sitting down on his bed. There’s a lot in that ah, and Alexis isn’t sure how much of it she wants to hear right now. 

“Anyway, so, it’s just. It’s a lot to handle, and I’d rather not talk about it, for, you know, for a bit,” she says, looking at him sidelong instead of turning to face him. 

“Really?” 

“Really,” she says, then hesitates. “Maybe. Maybe I should talk about it?” 

“I would hope you could talk about it with me, at least,” David says, standing up from his bed again to pace the carpet at the foot of hers. “Considering I am -- to my knowledge -- the only queer person you interact with on a regular basis. But then, I would also hope I wouldn’t be having to drag it out of you after a very, very long day.” 

“Well, maybe I didn’t really consider that, David.” 

“So you don’t consider me queer or you don’t consider me a person?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” she says, reaching for another tissue. “I just mean I hadn’t considered that talking about it would, like, help. Can we focus for a minute on the person actually going through an identity crisis?”

“That’s funny, because when I was going through my identity crisis, I’ll note, you were -- what -- in Bahrain?” He still hasn’t sat back down, and Alexis is getting tired of craning her neck to look at him, especially if all he’s going to be is indignant. 

“No, I was ten, David. Please.” She dabs tears from the corners of her eyes and adds primly: “I was on a girls’ trip to Bali that Annika organized. Anyway, we’re different people now.” She looks down at the tissue twisting in her hands and takes a deep breath before adding quietly. “And I’m not even sure I’m...well, anything.” 

“Oh?” She doesn’t have to look to know he’s got a hand on his hip and is more than likely about to merge his eyebrows into his hairline. “Because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re crying over how much you like a girl.” 

“Yeah, but that’s like...people do that, David,” she says. And now that she thinks about it, she’s done it before -- on that same trip to Bali, actually. 

“Sure they do,” says David pointedly. “Usually when they need to figure out if they’re, y’know, anything.” Alexis considers that for a second, then nods, glad her nose has stopped running, at least. 

“So, what should I do?”

#schitt's creek #alexis rose #david rose #sc fic #schitt's creek fic #I don't know what tags people use dot jpg #anyway here's the alexis naive queer self-discovery fic no one asked for #also the background character with literally zero lines who I decided is wife material no one asked for #scribbles #writing alexis pov REQUIRES the use of italics tbh remind me never to do this to myself again #(never mind you can't stop me she's my girl I'll do whatever it takes)

[chloca-cola]

Neighbors

This is a Leon x reader one shot.

TW: Smut. It's obligatory smut. Dirty talk. Cursing.

Word count: 1,408

Ok...leggo those thirsty for Leon!

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

   You've been neighbors with Leon Kennedy for years, and it naturally progressed to a friendship, having you guys sharing meals when he had his limited time off. You weren't fully aware of what his job really involves other than he works for the government, understanding that in itself must be stressful. What you did know about his job, however, was it had him gone a lot, sometimes several days in a row, and that it had him returning home at all hours of the night.

     One night in particular, an urgent banging on your door roused you from your slumber. You lifted your head before stretching and reaching for your phone on your nightstand to see it read 1:15AM. You groan, feeling worry settle in your stomach. Could something be wrong?

     You drag yourself out of your warm bed, adjusting your clothes as you padded barefoot through your apartment. The urgent knocking now falling into desperation.

     "Coming! Damn…" You shout, irritation replacing the worry as you stood on your tiptoes to peek through the peephole to see Leon. You quickly unhooked the chain on your door to open it so you could look up at the taller man. The two of you stared at each other for several beats, you eventually shrug your shoulders, quirking your eyebrow expectantly.

     "Listen...I know it's late...and this is gonna be weird, but…" He paused, taking in a deep breath, his blue orb that wasn't shrouded by his fringe of bangs locked on yours, full of desperation and lust. "Porn just isn't doing justice, and-"

     "Are you asking me for a fuck, Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, humor heavy in your tone, hiding the fact that your heart rate picked up at the thought of you being tangled and sweaty with this gorgeous man. He sighed.

     "Maybe." Your eyes trail down his lithe body, before dragging back up to his handsome face, giving him a devious smile.

      "Thought you'd never ask." You reply, reaching out to grab a fistful of his shirt, dragging him through your doorway, as he began to undo his pants with a smile.

      Clothes were shed and tossed errantly throughout your apartment, leaving a sinful trail to your bedroom, where Leon has you pinned against your bedroom wall. His hands cupped your face roughly as his mouth devoured yours. Your arousal already liberally smeared on your inner thighs, anticipation high for this moment.

     His mouth opened and closed around your bottom lip, his teeth nipping, his length hard and hot against your skin. Your fingers carded through his soft hair, as you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to cause him semi-sweet pain, and earned you a delicious moan from him.

     You slid down the wall, kissing a trail down his abdomen as you squat before him, taking his cock in your hand, giving him several languid strokes. You watched his face contort from your touches, as your free hand massaged his balls. You flatten your tongue, running it along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, causing Leon to hiss through his teeth. You then teased your tongue along the tip of his cock, tasting the pre-cum that had begun to bead.

     As you took him into your mouth, his hands find a home in your hair, giving it a tug as you hand worked in tandem with your mouth. His eyes roll back in his head, as your head bobbed, the motions drawing a louder moan from him. You hollow your cheeks, deep throating him, holding there until you gag on him. Tears pricked your eyes and he looked down at you, locking your eyes.

     "Fuck…" Leon's voice was husky, watching you intently as you suck him off, his hips bucking, causing you to gag on him again. You feel his cock swelling, you release him with an obscene pop, a thin trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

     "Can't let you fin-" You were cut off as he lifted you to your feet, pulling you towards your bed. "Whoa! Okay, guess I'm going this way now." You jest at your upheaval as Leon all but throws you on your mattress. He joined you on the bed, as cups your knees, yanking you closer to him.

     His slender finger teased along your already slick folds, causing him to smirk up at you. "Already ready for me, huh?" He teased, and you laugh, cheeks hot with blush.

     "What can I say? I've thought about fuckin you a lot." You reply, making sure to put extra emphasis on the lewd word and you watched his nostrils flare at your confession.

     "S'at right, (Y/N)?" In a flash, his head lowered, his mouth descending on your cunt, his tongue teasing your clit, before he gave your sensitive bud a nice suck, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You grab fistfuls of his hair, pulling him into you more, bucking your hips. He placed his hand on your lower abdomen to keep you still, as his tongue teased your entrance, before tracing back up, teeth grazing your throbbing clit. A slender digit slid into you, curling, causing your back to arch.

     You moan out his name as his mouth did sinful things between your legs, and he added a second finger, scissoring them. When he pulled back, you nearly cried out, leaving you teetering on the edge.

     "Can't have you finishing already either." He teased, knowing it was what you had been planning to say earlier. He removed his fingers, making a show of licking your silk from his fingers, slowly, running his tongue between his digits, causing you to moan.

     Leon then crawled up to hover over you, before dipping down to kiss you again, rutting himself against you, coating his cock in your slick. 

      "You wanted to be my dirty little slut for a while, huh?" He asks, mouth still brushing against yours, his voice pitched low, his eyes filled with lust.

      "Yes sir, Mr. Kennedy." You confess breathlessly, he kissed you again, as his hands slide down your body slowly, to cup the back of your thighs. He sat up on his knees, canting your hips up, and lined himself up at your entrance. He pushed his cock in slowly, letting you really feel him stretching your walls. You head pushed back into your pillows as a high pitch wanton moan fell from your mouth.

     Once he was fully seated in you, he let out his own moan. "Damn you're tight." He groans out, causing a full body shiver to run through you. He maneuvered your legs onto his upper arms, as he rolled you up, placing his palms flat on the mattress at either side of your head.

     Leon's pace was hard as he jackhammered into you, your nails digging into his forearms for purchase, and you mewled his name. A slow burn washed over your body until it felt like every nerve ending was on fire, as the coil in your abdomen wound tighter with every kiss the tip of his cock gave your cervix.

     Your walls fluttered around his cock, and Leon moaned out a curse at the feeling. He bore down onto you more, dipping his head down to capture your lips again in a sloppy kiss. His thrusting became quicker and less fluid as he chased his release, moaning into the caverns of your mouth. 

     "Cum for me." He growled against your mouth, his cock hitting you deep and blinding white stars exploded into your vision as you came hard, your walls clamping on him, trapping him there, as you screamed out a litany of curses mixed with his name. He continued to thrust through your heat, before bottoming out in you, filling you with his warmth, moaning out your name. 

     Both sweaty and panting, you came down from your highs, and you whined when you felt him slide out of you, as he flopped down on the bed next to you on his side. Your legs fell limply on the mattress, and you couldn't help but giggle. 

     "That was way better than I imagined." You confess, still trying to regulate your heartbeat, feeling his cum leaking out of you. "Anytime you need that, I'm happy to oblige." Leon chuckled, as you rolled onto your side to face him. He pulled you close, giving you a much softer kiss, before sleep claimed you both. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

@mitsuintheworks @imagineleonkennedy (you didn't say you wanted tagged because you were asleep, but I figure you'd enjoy this 😂😂) @disneymarina @vampyra-needs-food

#leon s kennedy #re leon #leon kennedy #re ns/fw #leon x reader #biohazard #resident evil #resident evil leon #resident evil ns/fw #one shot #fan fiction

[crankgayplays]

"Have you seen my hoodie?" with Chase (the hoodie thief) and Bing please? :)

I answered this one before the other one with them i have cause i need some fluff ksjdfhjsldf 

Bing frowned, digging through his laundry basket furiously. He for the life of him couldn’t find his black hoodie bearing the bing logo anywhere. Running fingers through his short hair the android made his way out of his room and poked his head into the kitchen dodging the knife thrown by his fellow android with ease. “Hey, bruh did ya see my hoodie?” 

Google rolled his eyes, putting away the dishes he was finishing, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter fixing the orange android with a blank stare. “Did you try checking the septic household? I’m sure you left it there with your boyfriend.” 

Bing’s cheeks tinted a deep orange, and he took the steak knife out of the wall next to him throwing it right back at google, the blue android dodging with ease. “Chase and I are just friends dude! Lay off it!” Goggle snorted dismissively, glaring at Wilford as he walked into the kitchen and smacked the back of his head.

“Play nice with your brother google.” Wilford huffed before turning around to face Bing with a grin. “I can zap ya over there kiddo just so you can check.” nodding, still warm in the face Bing happily accepted the help and found himself in front of Jack’s home before he could even voice his thanks to Warfstache, the older man already gone. 

“One of these days I should like, deffo ask him how he does that it’s hella dope.” 

Shaking off the thought, Bing made his way up the steps and knocked on the door, it swung open to reveal a very tired looking jack. “Ah hey tere bing” his accent was always thicker when tired or upset, Chase had the same thing and it was adorable. On chase! Not Jack, dude was like a brother .. um so was Chase! Obviously, dude was his bro .. ugh. Snapping out of his hectic thoughts Bing realized Jack had invited him inside and turned around walking back into the house. Nodding, he followed the youtuber close as he blearily yelled “Ey!! Bing’s ere!” 

From the kitchen, there was a crash and muttered Gaelic swears, and Bing could hear Marvin’s concern. “Chase?! Are you okay that looked like it burned.” he could also hear the doctor laughing at something, with a wheezed out. 

“You’re zo vucked!!” his laughing almost sounded hysterical. “Busted!!” 

Jack groaned pushing the kitchen door open muttering something about living with a bunch of adult children.  When Bing pushed into the room he stopped, if breathing was a necessary function for him he would have had the air punched straight out of him. There stood Chase in the middle of the kitchen, grimacing while Marvin held his red hand attempting a spell to heal the mild burn and Heinrich bent over the table cackling with his arms over his head. 

Clearly, the four of them had been up late, Marvin in a big t-shirt and shorts, long hair sleep mussed and all over the place. Heinrick was wearing some dirty scrub pants he’d clearly stolen and a dirty stained t-shirt as well as his glasses and some heavy dark circles. That wasn’t that big no what punched the nonlife out of the cybernetic entity was what chase was wearing.  

Chase stood there in very short flamingo shorts that showed off his strong slightly fuzzy legs, barefoot and backward cap covering his slightly longer hair making him look a bit small. What really made him look small however, was the much larger and longer black hoodie that covered most of his body almost making him look like he wasn’t wearing pants. Chase was flushed when his eyes met Bing’s, his sensors telling him Chase’s heart rate was elevated and his blood pressure was rising. He was scared, probably a bit pissed.  

Bing smiled shakily, his own tech going into a tizzy in a way he didn’t really understand at the sight as he walked over to the two and took Chase’s hand in his own giving it a quick scan. “S’just a surface burn kitty dude, your magic rocked it out.” smiling at the effeminate spellcaster who smiled and bounced a bit on his feet reaching up to ruffle Bing’s hair.

“glad you’re here sweetie, we missed you,” Marvin said, moving to finish the bacon Chase had almost dropped. Bing chuckled, relaxing a bit at the warm welcome. 

“Happy to be back kitten.” Heinrich finally looked up from his calmed down giggle fit, only to start giggling once more.

“Iz eet necessary to keep holding hiz hand?” Bing felt his processor kick into high gear, heating him up and making his readings twitch out of place again, the orange glow hitting his dark skin as he pulled his hand away from Chase’s. 

Chase glared at the doctor, face beet red, before shooting Bing an apologetic smile. “Hey. I um, suh bro?” Bing couldn’t resist a slight smirk, he never saw Chase this flustered it was kinda cute. 

Cute.

Huh ok.

“I was wondering if you guys have seen my hoodie?” he teased, and the room couldn’t hold their laughs. Marvin’s back was facing them but his little body tittered with his restrained giggles, Jack snorted into his coffee and Heinrich went right back to his giggle fit. Exhaling, Chase pulled in on himself, shoulders slumping in embarrassment. 

“I .. s-sorry bro, I know it’s weird I’ll take it off -” Bing’s eyebrows rose and he moved his hands to Chase’s wrists smiling. 

“No no! I don’t mind bro! You look nice in it! I’m glad someone else got to enjoy how hella comfy it is!” and it was true! Bing was loving the sight of his friend in the hoodie. Curiously, he started a background search to find out if this was connected to the emotional mimicking his ai allowed him. Chase’s cheeks got red again, pulling the hoodie close with a shy smile. 

“Ah, thanks dude it’s … hell comfy and it smells nice.” Chase’s eyes widened a bit, realizing he’d said that out loud and Bing missed the surprised, concerned look Jack shot Chase as he responded with a laugh.

“My cologne is dope as hell right?!” laughing and settling down at the table next to Jack “Would it be alright if I stayed for breakfast?” he was always a touch more formal with Jack and Mark. The Irishman laughed nodding at Marvin and Chase to continue cooking and taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Always bingy, you’re family.” Bing’s million-watt smile only got brighter at that statement as he settled into his seat humming peacefully. After a moment a ding alerted him to a completed search and he opened the files.

‘Data Compilation of Human Habit: Hoodies 

Question: Why is the human chase wearing bing.untit456′s hoodie? Why does the bing unit enjoy it? Why is the smell enjoyable for the human Chase?

Findings: It is a common documented habit of romantic and sexual partners ( usually the smaller statured partner )  to take the hoodies of their partner as the size and familiar smell of their partner is comfort and gives them something to remember them by when separated. The partner who’s hoodie is stolen often enjoys the visual stimuli of their partner in their hoodie due to the mixture of possession and marking their claim along with it being a physical sign of the partner’s need to feel close to them and have their smell around them. While the action can be interpreted as platonic as well that is far rarer and the bing units reactions imply a reaction mimicking that of a partner seeing their partner in their clothes.’  

Bing blinked, shaking away the results and letting his orange iris’ settle on the slender form of his long-time friend dancing around the kitchen in his hoodie that was three sizes too big making breakfast for them and felt the turbine where his heart would be thrum to life like crazy. 

“oh.” realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, he was in love with his best friend. Jumping a bit when he felt jack nudge him in the side, Bing looked at the older man who smiled.

“Just to clarify, I’m gonna guess you searched human behavior and stuff, he didn’t do it platonic. He likes how you smell and the warmth of the hoodie.” Bing was probably the shade of pumpkin at this point his body’s internal heat valves going crazy. Huffing and giving Jack a playful glare he muttered.

“You’re a traitor” and Jack smirked sipping his coffee. 

“and you two’re hopeless without help.” Bing couldn’t argue that and sighed pushing his chair away from the table and walking over to the over where Marvin and Chase stood. Jack banged on the table to get Marvin’s attention and ushered him over quickly before Chase could react to the sudden sound he felt strong arm’s around his waist and a chin on his shoulder deep, sexy voice rumbling in his ear. 

“I like you, in my hoodie.”

Chase laughed nervously, a bit manic even, hands shaking as he plated the bacon. “no homo right?”

Bing laughed, picking up on the rush of Chase’s blood with his sensors and pushed closer to him pinning the other man to the oven and pressing their bodies together. “A little bit homo” 

Heinrick groaned “In front of my coffee? REALLY?!”

#bingiplier #chase brody #bingaverage #my writing #Anonymous

[just-another-romantic]

Six Times : Part 1/6 -The Time He Was Too Enchanted

Series Summary: Five times Bucky wanted to kiss you + the one time he actually did

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,579

“You are the love that came without warning; you had my heart before I could say no.” - @extramadness

Warnings: a good amount of fluff

It was not an unknown fact in the Avengers tower that Bucky Barnes didn’t like dancing. He absolutely loathed it. He still had not gotten use to the new music genres or the dance moves and all of the slow songs that came on painfully reminded him of what could have been before the war. What he might have done with his life before he was enlisted. He probably would have gotten a good job, settled down with a decent girl, raised a few kids, and lived a plain, peaceful life.

Could have... might have... would have...

Bucky shook his head to clear his thoughts, the champagne in his hand having no effect on him. He also hated the fact that he couldn’t get a buzz from alcohol anymore, due to the super-soldier serum HYDRA gave him seventy-something years ago. Getting tipsy definitely would have helped the man slightly enjoy Tony’s party. Yes, Bucky was finally attending one of the bashes the billionaire threw seemingly every month. Steve had convinced him to go, and the fact that the entire party was in honor of Y/n, the girl Bucky was head of heels for, had helped sway him.

Y/n had only been with the Avengers for a little over a month and had already proved herself a valuable member to the team. She was a Norse demigod, daughter of Hela, making her Thor’s niece. She was able to manipulate peoples death and had a sense of when someone was on deaths door. So in battle, Y/n could always tell when the enemy was getting drained and she knew all of the ways to take them down. Recently, she had come back from a flawless mission at one of the old SHIELD compounds, and according to eye witnesses, it was a walk in the park for her.

Bucky believed it, as he had seen her fight first hand. Every Sunday, all of the Avengers trained together before breakfast, it became tradition a few years back. While he was working with the punching bag, he eyed her at her position on the mat with Thor. The god of thunder had taken it upon himself to train her, wanting to bond with one of the only family members he could trust. Y/N had happily agreed, Thor being the only family member she had left.

She surprised everyone by being able to take down Thor in one round. She was a natural fighter, calculated, a quick thinker, light on her feet, and delivered stealthy blows to distract before giving a hard hit to wherever she saw the weak spot of her opponent. Once all eyes had been on her with questioning gazes, she simply shrugged. “His soft spot is the left side of the rib cage, between the second and third bone. One hard prod between them and you’ll have the god down on his knees long enough to finish the job.” And Bucky thought he couldn’t be swooned anymore.

The second Y/n stepped foot in the compound, the ex assassin had been completely fascinated by her. Her energetic and optimistic attitude was contagious. If she was laughing, Bucky could not help but let the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at the symphony. Oh, he had it bad.

Unfortunately for him, she had avoided him like the damn plague ever since they had first been introduced to each other. Bucky really wasn’t surprised. The whole former assassin wasn’t a great conversation starter and the metal arm, well, it spoke for itself. Not a lot of girls want to date a guy with a bionic arm.

So here he stood, watching Y/N twirl and spin around with Nat on the dance floor, the skirt of her red cocktail dress fanning out gracefully. Bucky noticed that her heels were lazily thrown on one of the leather sofas, and she now danced barefoot on the dance floor. Her laughter echoed down to where he sat at the bar, and his heart skipped a beat.

There was a blunt force to Bucky’s ribs that jolted him from his thoughts. With a groan, he turned around and was met with Steve, who looked exasperated.

“Buck,” he started, “you’ve been starring at her for almost five minutes. It’s getting weird.”

“It was always weird, Steve,” the brunette mumbled out in response.

Steve sighed dramatically. “I’ve never seen you this whipped over a girl before.”

“No need to remind me.”

“Just go talk to her. She doesn’t seem like the type to bite.”

Bucky sheepishy tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “That’s the thing,” he said. “I can’t.” A knot formed in the pit of his chest, and out of habit, he downed the last of his drink to will it away. It didn’t work.

“Buck, I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about. Y/n is possibly one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met,” Steve said, leaning closer to his friend to talk quietly. “She asks about you a lot, you know?”

Bucky’s head perked up. “She does? I thought I terrified her?”

The Captain took a deep breath. “Not going to lie, the arm freaked her out at first. But she didn’t want to be rude and ask about it, so, knowing our relationship, she came to me for answers. I told her the common knowledge, not wanting to say anything you wouldn’t, and ever since it’s always been ‘How’s Bucky?’ or ‘Is he doing alright?’ ...Y/N’s super shy, and never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable but I think it’s safe to say you aren’t the only one that’s crushing.”

Bucky grinned wide, his cheeks reddening. “Holy shit, I-I need to go ask her to dance, right?”

The blond nodded his head enthusiastically. But before Bucky could even get from his seat or lose his courage, Y/n had already made her way up to the pair, the curls falling out of her hair from dancing the night away. With no warning, she took Bucky’s hands in her own, pulling him up and towards the dance floor. “C’mon, Buck! Dance with me!”

Giggles laced her voice and she smiled through her painted lips. The man was speechless and before he could stop himself, he blurted, “I don’t know how.”

Y/n had stopped in her tracks, already nearing the mob of people dancing. The up beat song suddenly stopped and a slow, romantic tune took its place. “You’re saying you don’t know how to slow dance, Sergeant?” Her voice was playful and it took Bucky’s breath away. His voice caught in his throat, so he only gave a sharp nod. She gave him a flirtatious and toothy smile. “Guess we’ll have to do something about it.”

Hey, you there

Can we take it to the next level, baby do you dare?

Don’t be scared

‘Cause if you can say the words I don’t know why I should care

Bucky’s heart raced as Y/N placed his metal hand on the dip in her waist, clasping her right hand within his own as her left arm rested on his shoulder. He was as stiff as a board and visibly uncomfortable. The girl before him slowly lifted her left hand up and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, her touch as gentle as a flower petal. Her hand remained on his cheek for a few moments and before she could pull away, Bucky couldn’t help but lean into the touch- it had been a long time since someone cared for him like this.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, Buck,” she whispered, her eyes boring into his steel blue ones.

He let out a bashful chuckle. “I thought you were the one scared of me.”

Y/n looked saddened at the thought. “I could never be scared of you.”

I’m not gonna wait until your done

Pretending you don’t need anyone

I’m standing here naked

I’m standing here naked

Y/n laid her head on Bucky’s sternum, pressing close to him. Her chest vibrated as she hummed along to the song playing through the speakers. He moved his left hand to her bare back to press her closer until he heard her gasp. His mouth was already open to apologize but she whispered, “Keep your hand there. It feels nice.” So they continued to sway, his metal hand cooling her warm skin.

Hey , get out

I’ve got nothing left to give for you give me nothing now

Read my mouth

If you ever want me back then your walls need breaking down

Under the neon lights of the room, Bucky felt this girl breaking down walls he didn’t even know existed before. She had wormed her way into his heart without him realizing it, and suddenly the stone-cold soldier was puddy in her hands.

‘Cause here I am, I’m giving all I can

But all you ever do is mess it up

Yeah, I’m right here, I’m trying to make it clear

Getting half of you just ain’t enough

Y/n was drunk, Bucky would be a fool to convince himself otherwise. This entire situation was just the alcohol acting up and Bucky told himself that he would need to be prepared if she didn’t remember anything the next morning. He tried not to get his hopes up. But, God, this feeling that was coursing through his body was euphoric. With nothing but a beautiful girl held close to his chest, Bucky felt at peace for the first time in years. Since the brainwashing. The dread, the guilt, and pain had melted away with a simple dance.

In that moment, Bucky came to the realization that he was in fact, very naked. He was being vulnerable, his guard was down, and he was sharing an intimate moment with a girl, something he hadn’t done since the forties. Y/n buried her face into the crook of his neck, her breath sending chills up and down his spine.

“You remember how to dance now, Serge?” Her voice was raspy and slurred with fatigue.

Bucky grinned. “All thanks to you, doll.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan headcanons #winter solider x reader #bucky barnes fic #5 + 1 things #5 + 1 fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers XI (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Make sure to drink your Respect women juice, children. Also, Happy new year!!

Words: 3,330

Warnings: Maya being rude, dirty feet(?) uh, cursing ig

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

“I’m sorry, by the way”

“For what?”

“Bringing them here...” 

Josh is careful in the way he wraps the bandages, they’re tight but bring some sort of relief, he’s also using a piece of my old shirt to help immobilize my wrist.

“I didn’t know Alex and Maya were there”

“It’s fine,” I sigh, “even if you knew, you would’ve done it anyway”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“Yes?” I tilt my head, grinning, “You’re a good guy, you know?”

“I’m not a good guy,” Josh finishes my bandages and sits beside me quietly, “I ruin everything”

“Hey,” I turn to him and cross my legs, “something tells me you’re not talking about recent events”

He seems to be struggling to talk, it’s odd since Josh is usually quite good at talking, (he never shuts up) until he just groans, hiding his face with both hands.

“Come on,” I reach for his arm, “Josh, what’s wrong...?”

“You’ll hate me if I tell you,” He mumbles, still covering his face.

“Are you sure?” I ask, “I’ve done my fair amount of shitty stuff too, maybe I’ll understand?”

“You won’t,” He shakes his head, finally sitting back, “I was unfair and a huge asshole, you’ll get mad”

Josh looks at me with reddish eyes, far more than only weariness I see regret and guilt pouring through them. That’s enough to make me retreat my arm and slide back.

“What did you do?”

He looks at the kids that are walking around the mall, checking the stores and going everywhere in small groups. There’s a lot of noise and I like it, I had missed it, but Josh doesn’t seem to enjoy it.

“If you wanna hear, you have to promise you won’t hate me.”

“That isn’t helping you, Wheeler,” I huff, “listen I honestly don’t think it was that bad, if it makes you feel safe then okay, I promise I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Josh stands up, holding his hand out for me to hold, “I don’t want the rest to hear it, so...”

I look at his hand, seriously, what did he do? What can be so outrageous that he doesn’t want anyone to know?

I take his hand anyway, my curiosity won’t let me live if I reject his offer. He pulls me up and when my feet touch the ground I remember I’m still barefoot. I come into a halt and look around to get my skates, Josh notices and looks back.

“You want to put on some shoes first?” He asks.

“I want to wash my feet first, they’re full of dirt.”

“We can do that,” He smiles softly, “come...”

Josh grabs a bucket and a towel from the janitor’s cart we keep around in case of a cleaning emergency (my idea) and we go to the restroom, putting the bucket under the faucet and pressing the button so it fills with water.

“Take a seat,” He smirks, pointing towards one of the toilets in front of him.

I grimace and open one of the doors, luckily is clean enough for me to sit (with the lid closed, of course) and as I do it, Josh pushes the button a second time. He does that at least ten times until it has plenty of water, then places the bucket in front of me. I wait for Josh to bring me the towel but he stands there for a long second, looking at me in concentration.

“You know, technically both of us only have one good hand right now,” He says, “still, I think I can move mine more than you can move yours so...”

He grabs the towel from the sink and kneels in front of me. I try to hide my feet far from him when I realize what he’s doing.

“No no no no no,” I go red at the image of Josh kneeling in front of me to wash my feet, “you are not going to do that”

“Why not?” He frowns in a terrible, innocent way.

“Dude, cause it’s weird,” I cringe, “my feet are gross right now, I won’t let you wash them, that’s not right”

He looks down at the towel and then back at me, still confused.

“Y/N, it’s just feet. You can’t do it, your hand-”

“I have another hand, I don’t need both,” I interrupt him, taking the towel from and pulling the bucket closer, I still feel my cheeks burning so I avoid his stare, “just... tell me what's upsetting you”

Josh stands up again and walks slowly until he reaches the faucets, leaning his body against them. He crosses his arms and watches me carefully, I lean over and gently start rubbing the dirt off my skin.

“It’s about the day the nuke drop... the reason why Sam left me.”

I look up at him in mild surprise. It was silly, but I had forgotten the reason why he was looking for her in the first place, maybe cause I thought he didn’t want to talk about it, now that he was, he had my attention.

“Okay?” I encourage him, going back to what I was doing.

“She asked me to skip school, homecoming was boring anyway so we left early...”

He didn’t go into details, but for the most part, it sounded really cute. Until he got to the weird part where everything kinda just escalated, and he said ‘I love you’, she didn’t like it but they had sex anyway and then he found out his dad was dead and slut-shamed Sam after having sex with her.

Yeah, I know. What the fuck was that?

By the time he ended the story, my feet were clean and I was sitting on the toilet, not even capable of looking Josh in the eyes, speechless and drowning in all the second-hand embarrassment.

Josh was red, and so were his eyes from all the times he had rubbed them to avoid crying. He was staring at his shoes, afraid to look at me.

“That was a shit move, Josh,” I whisper, “what did... How- I mean, there are so many things there I can’t even begin...”

“You are angry,” He states miserably, sitting on the ground cross-legged, still not looking at me.

“I’m not,” I frown, passing my good hand through my hair and pushing it back, “I am. A bit. Josh, your story has so many wrong things in it that I understand why didn’t you want to tell me, why you were so desperate to find Sam. I get it, you wanted to apologize”

“What?” He looks up, “Wait, you’re not gonna storm away and call me a dick?”

“I’m not saying you didn’t do wrong. You were an asshole,” I scoff, standing up and walking up to him, “Sam didn’t deserve that, you should have talked to her instead of calling her names to feel briefly better, that was clearly a mistake” 

He hugs his knees, I decide to sit beside him.

“Yet, we’re all human right? Particularly teenagers. Your emotions took over you, your father died and you were angry about it, you didn’t get to say goodbye. But Josh, half of us didn’t get to say goodbye too”

“I know,” Josh cleans his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, “but at that moment it was only my loss and my dad. And... Sam’s words were still burning in my brain, you know? They seemed stupid compared to what was happening to me. I know I was selfish and rude, and all that. I just wish... I wanted to say sorry so badly, Y/N. Now all I can do is never go back to being a dick, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” I reply, “if the nuke hadn’t dropped, you would have apologized the same night, it’s not that you were a resentful baby that waited months to see his mistake. It was... bad timing. All of it. You, saying ‘I love you’ before time, your dad...”

Oh, but it’s always bad timing, isn’t it?

Life is never what you want it to be.

“Who you are is not written in stone. You had a bad day and said bad things to a person you cared about, doesn’t mean you’re always a bitch. I’ve seen you do good things: Letting Burr live, opening all those cages and letting them stay here in the mall...” 

He looks away but I grab his chin with the tip of my fingers so he turns his attention back to me.

“That day when you dragged me with you, so the Jocks wouldn’t attack me instead? What I mean to say is, you can always grow from your mistakes, be a better man”

“I’m still an idiot,” He looks pointedly at his hand, “I do things without thinking and then regret it.”

“Don’t we all?” I chuckle, “I won’t tell you that everything you’ve done is okay, but I can tell you that the way you act around us after what’s happened to you, shows that you really care. You want to be better now so then be it, do it for Sam”

Someone walks in and stops as soon as they see us sitting on the floor, one barefoot girl and a crying boy. They turn around and walk out of the restroom without saying a word. Josh and I share a glance and laugh, the dense air around us disappearing. His eyes are brighter now, and I know I lifted a huge weight from his shoulders. I’m glad we had this talk.

First, cause it showed me how Josh is far from the perfect hero I was forming in my head. Instead, he’s just a boy, he has flaws and gets emotional, he can lose control and be mean. Suddenly, he is this whole real person that makes mistakes, and I’m fine with that.

Second, I’m glad cause I feel that I can be myself with him, I can say exactly what happened between me and Alex only to get it out of my chest, I know he won’t judge me. I didn’t trust him before cause he was a stranger, now he’s my friend. We’re two kids who did a lot of bad stuff the wrong way and somehow managed to find each other, someone who understood. 

That was cool.

“I followed you here without grabbing my skates or a new pair of fun socks,” I grin, “I have to go get them...”

“Crap, sorry,” He stands up, whipping away the tears, “don’t move, I’ll get you ones. Any color?”

“Lime-green,” I laugh, looking at the face he makes “just kidding, I don’t care. I just want to cover my feet.”

“Alright,” He turns around, “I’ll bring you the ugliest pair I can find, then”

The few seconds he’s gone another person appears, this time is Maya.

“Hello Yoko,” She points to my feet, “are we rocking the hippie vibe now?”

“More like I had to leave in a hurry,” I cross my arms, “You want something?”

“I wanna talk,” She sits in front of me with pleading eyes, “let’s fix this! I know that inside this hard I-don’t-need-you shell my old Vinchi still exists, and she misses us.”

“I missed you the first month, it’s been three months now and I’m already used to this, I don’t need to go back”

“Why are you so upset? You complained so much about Alex and I not caring enough but the second we’re here asking you to forgive us you push us away”

“First of all, Alex doesn’t have to apologize cause it wasn’t his fault, it was mine, so that’s how I know you’re generalizing to make me feel bad and how I know you haven’t talked to him”

“Okay then, what do I have to do for you to at least consider to come with me?”

“There’s nothing you can do, Maya,” I struggle to get up, just wanting to be as far as possible, “Why can’t you admit that you kept hanging out with us before and after the nuke because you were too shy to join the cheerleaders? You know, I’m glad you found the courage to go and join them, I really do, but don’t act like leaving us was the hardest thing you had to do, you never hung out with us cause you thought we were fun, we were just easy to handle. Your little tribe where you were the big leader.”

“I... I don’t-”

“Now you want it back cause the Cheeramazons aren’t giving you the recognition you want. What a bummer,” I continued throwing her way all the resentment. I was tired of her seeming all caring and nice when in reality she never liked us, I wasn’t planning on going back to that, “really must suck, but I’m happy here and I don’t wanna leave my new friends”

I never, ever talked to her like this when we were friends. She said it before, I always did my best to keep everyone happy, to be the best friend they could have. Wesley taught me that had to go, only I get to define who I am, so I decided I won’t be one of Maya’s followers anymore.

She glares at me from the floor and stands up in such a threatening way that for a moment I think she’ll slap me. Maya stands really close to me and whispers to my ear.

“Look, you can do and try to be all tough and invincible on your own. Cause I know the people you eagerly want to call friends, have personal interests and as soon as they fulfill them, they’ll leave you alone just like I did. Like Alex did. Face it,” She smirks, “on your own, you’re just a sad useless nobody with nothing to offer to the tribe”

I’m standing there with no worthy reply when Josh comes back with Angelica beside him, one holding my socks and the other holding a new pair of baby-blue sneakers.

“Hi,” Josh stops near the door, “are we interrupting something?”

“No,” My eyes stay fixed on Maya, “she was about to leave”

“Yes,” She smiles happily to Josh and Angelica, “you brought her shoes? How nice of you!” She looks back at me with an evil glint in her eyes, “Let me know if you change your mind, Vinchi”

When she’s out I walk towards my friends, taking the shoes and the socks, mumbling a ‘thank you’ to both of them.

“Is everything okay?”

“Who was that?” Asks Angelica with a grimace, “I could practically smell the bitch coming from her.”

“That’s Maya,” Josh replies, “Y/N’s old friend... She asked you again?”

“Yeah,” I walk towards the toilet and pull the lid down so I can sit.

“Asked her what?” The girl frowns.

“She wants me to go with her and my friend Alex, form a new tribe,” I roll my eyes, “as if that could fix my problems...”

“Fuck no!” Angelica exclaims, “I asked you to stay and form a tribe first”

“I never said I would go,” I retort, “they’re not my friends now, Angelica. It’s a long story, the point is that I rather get eaten by the mutant pug than running away with Alex and Maya”

“Oh,” Angelica raises her brows, seemingly pleased, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of her”

“No you won’t,” I stop a second from trying to tie my shoe and I look at her, “If I hear that Maya suddenly caught on fire, or some weird shit like that-”

“What, you’ll kill me?”

“I’ll leave and never go back,” I say with a taunting smile, “you better pick wisely, An.”

Angelica rolls her eyes but says nothing against my comment, she leaves the restrooms instead. I keep struggling with my shoe until Josh steps closer. 

“Let me help you,” He says lowly, only stopping to add, “if that’s not too kinky for you, of course”

“It wasn’t a sexual thing!” I reply, “It was just weird!”

“Can I help you this time, yes or no?” He insists, already kneeling in front of me.

“Fine,” I huff, looking away so he can’t see me blushing, “I guess I do need help to tie my shoes”

“You should’ve thought of that before falling on your hand,” He replies mockingly.

“Oh, very funny,” I sneer, “enjoy this as much as you can, cause my thing will go away after a while”

“Rude,” He pouts, once he’s done with the right shoe he starts with the left, “so Maya, did she say something bad?”

I was hoping we wouldn’t get back to that subject, I guess Josh wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have a bad memory.

“What do you mean?” 

“When we walked in you had this expression on your face,” Josh mentions, “like you were about to cry or punch her in the face” 

“Huh,” I watch as his hands move, skillfully tying the laces, “that’s actually kind of funny... uhm, she... she kind of said that if I stay, you guys will leave just as she and Alex did, that it was bound to happen cause... uh, cause I’m a nobody and I don’t have anything to offer to the tribe”

He stops his movements and looks up at me, disbelief and outrage for the things I said.

“She said, what?” He stands up, “What the fuck?”

“I forgot to mention how our friendship was more like a convenient relationship?” I scratch the back of my neck, moving my feet to check if the shoes fit me, “everyone knew Maya was with us cause she was too scared to try something better. Alex and I never minded cause we had each other, whatever Maya did with her life wasn’t our problem”

“But when you told me about the day she left... you seemed sad?”

“I was sad,” I stand up, “I thought that after the nuke she had changed her mind about us, then she said she was leaving, that finally taught me the lesson”

“She’s... she’s...” He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, “I don’t want to use bad words to describe young women... not anymore”

“But?” I smile.

“She’s an asshole,” He scoffs, “and wrong. She’s so wrong about you. You know that, right?”

“Meh,” I hesitate, not really knowing how to answer, “sure?”

“Y/N!” Josh exclaims, “You aren’t a nobody! Let’s review the things you’ve done, okay? First, you saved my sorry ass from that ghoulie by hitting her on the head with a hammer, then you fixed my finger, you avoided my premature death and stayed to make sure I recovered. You got me a good replacement for my finger (You were right, I got used to it) and you came with me and Wesley on my stupid quest... You know, I’m sure there’s more that you can mention”

He crosses his arms and looks at me expectantly, I frown.

“You seriously want me to start enlisting my achievements?”

“Yes.”

“Josh, come on...”

“I won’t stop bugging until you do, Y/N”

“Jesus,” I sigh, “okay, let me think... I made an inventory for the five of us so we wouldn’t run out of food before time? I-uh, I knew where Triumph would be before we got cornered by the jocks cause you said it went on the direction where I knew the Hoyles’ fabric was, so I guess in general I know Glendale’s streets by memory, I... know a lot about healing?”

I make a face, unsure of how to continue, Josh seems pleased with what I said, nodding along. 

“See? What does Maya know about you?” He puts his arm around me and guides me towards the door, “And what does she know about us? Nothing. We all like you, Y/N. We won’t leave you.”

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic @slythermyg

#twoidiots writing #daybreak fanfic #eli cardashyan #josh wheeler #josh wheeler xreader #angelica green #wesley fists #ms crumble #daybreak #netflix

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

                                 SOON YOU’LL GET BETTER

      time's running out for Riza. and they can do nothing else, but face this truth.

                                                     ao3

{AN: This is easily the most personal story that I have ever written. My mom died of cancer almost two months ago and I needed to cope with that, hence this fic. Tbh, I don't even think it can strictly be called fanfiction - I simply used those characters to channel my personal trauma. Sorry not sorry for that. It feels very weird to post it publicly, but I decided to do it, cause the fact that this doc was somewhere on the hard drive of my laptop was driving me mad. Also... I feel like the topic of death and dying is not discussed often enough nor openly enough. I certainly hope that this story will maybe help someone who's going through something similar to what I'm going through. Or maybe will help someone to understand how it feels to say goodbye. How heavy this grief is. 

The title comes from Taylor Swift's Soon You'll Get Better, cause this song is by far the most accurate description of what's going on in the head of some who has a sick parent that I have ever seen.}

__________________________________________________________

When you're feeling lost I'll leave my love

Hidden in the sun

For when the darkness comes

- Colbie Caillat

RIZA

The house’s so quiet and feels so inviting that she could cry from the sheer relief of coming inside. There are no flames dancing in the fireplace but she still feels warmth worming underneath her skin, replacing the bone-chilling coldness of the rain outside. With a sigh, she kicks off her shoes before putting them neatly in the corner and stepping on the white plush carpet in the corridor. She wiggles her toes in it, enjoying the texture against her battered feet.

Soft material makes her steps almost soundless as she makes her way through the first floor and climbs up the stairs. Even Koya doesn’t lift his little ginger head from where he’s sleeping, in his wicker basket by the doors of her younger daughter.

Riza gently pushes the door, letting them open slightly. The light from the corridor spills inside the room, framing Sara’s bed in silver; her little face so pale in the poor lighting, dark hair messy and thumb inside her mouth.

It’s been a few years since she last did it, since she last came back to the childish comfort of this coping mechanism.  Riza was sure that she has it well behind her, those moths of coating Sara’s hand in foul-smelling ointments or wrapping it with ribbons.

Despite her best wishes, she can do nothing but take a few steps closer and then another few and then suddenly she’s on her knees right next to the bed. Carpet in her little daughter’s room is blue, Amestrian royal blue, deep and soft. Her girl loves this color. Wears it in her hair and on her clothes and all her pet animals are blue too.  But as Riza watches her sleeping face, she thinks pink would be a shade much better suited for Sara, with her rosy cheeks and flowery innocence of a child shielded from any possible harm, any dangerous blow.

That’s what they have been doing all this time, her and Roy. Spreading an umbrella above their girls’ heads, building glass castles on the clouds for them and keeping them safe at all cost.

Riza gently touches Sara’s still-chubby hand and contemplates pulling her thumb from in between her lips, but ultimately decides against it.

Her daughter will need all the comfort she can get soon.

*

Sometimes she feels like she has spent most of her life waiting.

When she was six years old and her mom went into labor, nobody suspected that it won’t be a quick thing, devoid of complications. Tereza Hawkeye was a strong woman, used to hard work on the farm and running the house for her absent-minded husband. Riza remembers her red, calloused hands and freckles that would appear on the bridge of her nose during summer months; remembers her smile and the smell of her hair.  There wasn’t a soul that would look at her and guess that Tereza was born in the aristocratic circles of Central City, with an army of servants ready to attend to her every whim and silk dresses in her closet, that she could rise very, very high if she didn’t decide to so-called ‘’follow her heart’’, run away with the young alchemist and settle down with him in the village on the countryside, forgotten by god and men alike.

To be honest, Riza never thought much about her mother until she became a mother herself. Trying to put together fragments of Tereza in her head the way one could play with a jigsaw puzzle, she looked through few faded photographs she had left and recollected even more faded pictures in her memory. And the more she thought about it and the more she watched Roy and Grumman playing chess together, the more she pondered of how much of a hopeless romantic really was in her mother. Because it seemed to her Tereza could be as well a perfectly pragmatic young woman who just plainly decided she preferred to be barefoot and pregnant at the edge of the world than to be pushed on the board according to the whims of her father – even as a queen.

No matter her motives, Tereza married Berthold Hawkeye and gave him a daughter before dying in childbirth along with their son.

And Riza remembers that waiting all too well; small blonde girl sitting forgotten and omitted on an armchair in the corridor, clutching her teddy bear close to her chest, her face pressed to the faded material. She remembers screams behind the wall, remembers how her father stormed inside, remembers the sound of the door shutting close. Remembers long hours of pressing her fingers to her closed eyelids just to see stars exploding. Sometimes she feels like maybe she never left this armchair, never hoped off to kiss her mother’s soft, cold cheek goodbye.

And then years and years of silence, of wind blowing inside the house and playing with endless pages of her fathers’ notes laying discarded on every surface. Of silence in which they both were trapped, like flies in a jar full of honey, which they shared for so long she thought she will never speak again. Until a pretty boy from Central City appeared on their creaking doorstep, with his laughing dark eyes and a suitcase. He bowed in front of her politely and asked about her name.

And she said ‘’Riza’’, even though only her mother ever called her that, even though she was ‘’Tereza’’ in her birth certificate.

And he smiled widely.

‘’What a beautiful name.’’

Forget fire alchemy;  the warmth she felt in that moment was incomparable with any other before and after.

At least her daughters won’t be left to her own devices after she’s gone. At least she has given them a better father than hers. At least this, at least that, all bitter, all making her choke.

*

They tell them first thing in the morning.

Time for deception and avoiding this topic is over. They wasted it on constructing elaborate lies instead of trying to find the right words and it’s so, so hard now. Riza grips Roy’s hand tightly under the table during the breakfast and opens her mouth before he has a chance to.

“I’m sick, girls.”

The harsh, ugly truth. Cruel military honesty.

Sara whips her head up to stare at her in shock, her eyes round like coins and confused. She drops her fork; it slips from in-between her fingers and lands with a clatter on the porcelain plate, spraying her blouse with yellow of scrambled eggs. But, as Riza takes a look at her older daughter, she thinks Eli as well could’ve, on the contrary, turned into a stone. She doesn’t even blink. She just sits perfectly still, her hand suspended in the air, reaching for a bread roll.

A heartbeat passes, maybe two.

“Girls-“

Eli’s hand slaps down on the table.

“How sick?”

Sara’s bottom lip starts to tremble. Dear god, please don’t let her cry. – thinks Riza desperately, feeling something welling up in her chest. She feels like a grenade about to burst and kill everyone in the room.  Maybe that’s truer than she suspected.

She tries to answer and, horrified, finds that she cannot seem to find any words.

“Very sick, Eli.” – says Roy instead; quietly, gently, he reaches out to caress Sara’s cheek and here they are, rolling down her perfect, pink skin. Tears, one after another.

Riza cannot breathe, cannot think even.

Eli slowly lowers her eyes, until they stay stuck on her plate; she is so, so beautiful like that, lost in thought. Forget blonde hair and sun-kissed complexion of Hawkeye’s, forget her blooming breasts and round face – she has never looked more like Roy right now, when Riza can almost see the gears in her head turning, her brilliant mind putting facts in order.

“I knew it. I knew it and yet… I didn’t want to know it.” – Eli’s voice is very quiet, barely above whisper, but she commands the attention of everyone. Even Sara stops biting on her lip to look at her. – “You stopped working and god, all those trips. The trip all the way to Xing, that you didn’t take us – you were visiting Al and Mai, right? To ask if they can do anything.”

Riza suddenly has an urge to laugh. To cry also, but mostly to laugh. Her eyes find Roy and there it is, their common understanding how could we thought we can ever keep anything a secret from them?

Even if they don’t know, they do. Sara’s finger stuck in her mouth, how big of a crybaby she became lately, her ever-brave and ever-bold firecracker of a girl.  The stare of Eli’s watchful eyes analyzing every action and change in their daily routine.

“You are too smart for us, darling.” The corners’ of Roy’s lips twitch as if he was about to smile. “We never give you enough credit.”

Eli takes a shaky breath and barks a sad, little laugh before burying her face in her hands for a moment. When she raises her head up, her amber eyes are shiny.

“I don’t think I am, honestly. If I was, I would know what to tell you –“

“Are you going to die, mommy?”

Silence falls like a knife, cutting Eli’s sentence in half and freezing Riza’s brain. Sara is standing now, hands planted flat on the table and she leans towards her; tears still rolling down her cheeks and nose already red, she asked her question with the dead seriousness, crashing violently with the high, birdy pitch of her voice.

Ishbal was one, never-ending bloodbath that she will never manage to atone for. Working under Bradley was a constant, day by day struggle, when her body felt like a taunt bow-string, never relaxing, always on alert. During five minutes when she thought Lust had killed Roy she barely felt  alive at all. Promised Day was a nightmare. Her first miscarriage sent her into the very depths of despair. Sitting with Roy in that room and hearing the results of the tests, seeing his face and the light gone from his eyes, she was sure there will be nothing more harder than that. But having lived through it all, Riza realizes has never felt more broken, more helpless and devastated, than now; when she has to gently cradle her youngest daughter’s face in her hands, look her in the eyes and say, without any turn-backs or bullshit excuses:

“Yes.”

*

There are more than a few things that she loves about her life. She loves their house in Central; cozy, bright and without fancy high ceilings and big windows that would put her bodyguard instincts into overdrive. She loves her dogs; their simplicity and loyalty, how they always come over to greet her home, how they appreciate a good scratch between their ears and how they all remind her of dear Hayate somehow. There are days that she even loves Central City, its hustle and bustle, and all the memories – good and bad alike – that she made here.

But above all, she loves her family and each and every person that form it. She suspects she will never stop marveling at the miracle that happened to her at some point; that the lonely, sad little girl growing up as alone as a child can possibly be, ended up surrounded by so many people loving her and caring for her. So many people to say goodbye to.

She considers herself lucky. More than lucky – the luckiest.

It doesn’t think any of this makes is easy. On the contrary -  she thinks it would be easier if she was not so generously gifted by fate. The biggest struggle, as she learns in time, is to not say I’m fine all the time, not repeating it as a foolish parrot round the clock. She respects Roy and girls too much to maim them with this fool’s gold phrase, but it’s so difficult. She finds herself biting on her tongue more often than not, several times a day, until there are scars on the soft tissue that refuse to heal.

Cause she is not fine.

*

Where it hurts most,  asks her Roy one time, desperately, in the dead of the night; his arms around her, holding her upright from behind and his lips on the back of her neck as she sags above the toilet. At this point, she can’t remember how much time has passed since she started vomiting, the room is spinning in front of her eyes and she too bone-deep tired to even try faking anything, and so maybe that’s why she actually answers him.

She slowly wills her arms to raise up, until her hands are up in the air, high enough so he can see.

“This.” She says, voice small and throat scraped raw, but she knows he would understand anyway.

This never-ending shaking, twitching, trembling, as if somebody was electrocuting her limbs all the damn time. Her treacherous hands that used to be so sure and reliable holding a gun, finger concrete-still on the trigger, and which now did not even allow her to braid her daughters’ hair. She misses their sureness and, even more than that, the sign of them simply makes her scared. Everything is more real, more tangible, seeing this tremble.

And then she starts to vomit again, with blood this time, and she doesn’t want to remember anything else from what followed, but she recalls how it ended; the blissful, cool sheets, the wet rag on her forehead. Roy on his knees by the bed, kissing her every finger and knuckle and line on her palms.

*

They go to Dalisay in June, just four of them. The road is longer and harder than Riza hoped it would be, with pain running up and down her spine like an electric current, her hands struggling to turn the pages of the book - but it’s nice anyway, so nice.

She cannot read and is too tired to talk really, so she just sits with legs resting on the opposite sofa and head nested on Roy’s shoulder, listening to Sara’s baby-bird-twitting. Her girl spends the whole journey standing up with her palms pressed to the glass, looking out of the window and asking about everything – what is this station, what is this city, how many hours ahead of us, are these sheep, mommy look, mommy look. And Riza obliges, slowly turning her head in the direction of the outside and nobody has to know that she doesn’t look at the sheep, or horses, or little farms, but she just watches Sara; her eyes gleaming, her cheeks cherry pink, dark hair curling around her face.

Eli has an alchemy book on her lap, opened right at the middle, but it’s more for the show as she’s not reading either. From time to time, she scratches Mochi’s head or pets Koya gently, but most of the time she just stays silent. Riza feels her eyes on her, as her skin tingles from the intensity of this state, with the familiar desperation, love, and longing. How to burn someone’s face in your memory, in your heart? If you stare long enough, can you remember for forever?

So, the only voices in their compartment – a nice one, really, with comfortable sofas and wooden floors and curtains, private, for what she’s more than thankful – are Sara’s questions and Roy’s answers. He knows everything about the landscape outside and Riza wonders how weird it must feel for him, going down this old memory lane with them, taking the same train that he used to take as a little boy and then teenager, but many years later, with his family and his dear, dying wife. She doesn’t know what kind of feelings it must evoke – she was always the one waiting on the train station after all, static and longing.

He tells Sara – this is river Enola, do you know where it starts? This village is called Priam, they have a sunflower festival every summer, yes, we can go see it. Yes, this blue thing is a lake, lake Moore. It’s very big. Like, hm, from your school to the park? No honey, I don’t think whales live there. Dolphins neither. But there are many other fish.

Riza skids closer to him, feeling his arm gently wrapping around her, his fingers rubbing circles on her hip. He must take comfort in knowing at least this, answering at least those questions. For Roy’s action-driven nature it must be torture to drift with her like that, time slipping from in between their fingers like water. But he slows down to stay by her side as long as they have left, wills his blood and heart to match the rhythms of hers. He is no longer her wildfire, but a rock, solemn and still.

Unflinching.

*

Dalisay’s somehow just like in her memory and completely different at once, and it makes her head spin. The streets are busier, livelier – with the opening of new train lines and the discovery of rare elements in the area nearby, her sleepy little village has never been so awake. But the air still smells like honeysuckle and strawberries, the grass is so shockingly green compared to the one in Central.

It’s a new world, altogether. It’s almost like they crossed some barrier and entered a foreign land.

And her daughters explore it eagerly, even Eli losing that worried expression from the train in order to curiously peek around the corners and listen to people talking with a melodic, longish intonation that Riza has abandoned long ago, somewhere between the first and second year of the Academy. Sara basically vibrates with energy as she runs from one stall to another on the farmer’s market, begging Roy for sugared almonds or a pack of mint candies.

As the girls lead the way, the two of them slowly stroll, step by step. Riza holds onto Roy’s arm, but she feels so light that it surprises even herself. The pains more bearable like that. She can almost convince herself that the girls are a little smaller, that they are still a First Family, that it’s just a regular Saturday like thousands before and thousands after. The sun’s so warm and honeysuckle so sweet, and they take a break here and hide in the shade for a second.

“I have dreamed of taking you on that damn market, you know.” – Roy whispers into her ear and she just has to laugh at the irritation at his voice. –“ But I never had enough money or guts to do it.”

“To be honest, I think guts were the bigger issue.” – she waves her hand at the crowd and the stalls. – “ The only thing you could’ve bought me here back then were carrots probably.”

He chuckles lightly, gently sneaking one arm around her waist to stabilize her, as the smooth street turns into a cobblestone path. She wonders briefly if he even notices those small acts of care that he performs or if they are something completely instinctual. Her heart swells at the thought and she turns her head slightly and presses a kiss just below his jawline.

“What was that for?” he asks softly, caressing her cheek with a free hand in return.

“Everything.” She simply states and rests her head on his shoulder as they continue to stroll at snail’s pace, in silence this time. She is sure he understands. They never really needed many words between them anyway.

Bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, they make their way forward.

*

There were snakes in Ishbal. Or, she supposes, there are snakes in Ishbal, since they have proven to be far more resilient than Ishbalans.

Upon entering the front, the first thing higher-ups did, was presenting  her with a pair of military boots and forbidding her to ever take them off. They were monstrous things, made from tough, boiled leather, with an extra protective layer around the ankle; they weighted a ton and made her feet cook inside, turned her skin white, slimy and wrinkly. But she and everyone else would dutifully wear them every day, even in their sleep, mindful of the alternative.

Sand vipers like dark and cool places, just like humans in the desert. They are small and sleek, their bodies fashioned for zig-zaging through the golden dunes and escaping from sunlight. If they bite you, you don’t even feel it at first; you go on with your life, resume your duties. But after two hours or so, you start to shiver violently. Then, in mere minutes,  you lose your balance. Then your sight, your hearing. And then you die, just like that. It takes maybe an hour from the first tremble. You don’t have any time to say goodbye, to write a letter to your loved ones.  You are gone before you can feel yourself slipping away.

More Amestrians died from this goddamn venom than from any Ishabalan resistance, that’s for sure.

Riza’s sickness is kinda like that.

It takes time to unravel, gives her a room to breathe, gives Roy and the girls and even herself some hope against all reason, because how can she die if she still can walk and talk and smile? If she cooked a dinner yesterday and tended to the flowers in the garden in the afternoon?

Yes, she can.

Yes, she does.

One morning, she doesn’t get up.

I still have time to say goodbye, I still have some time, I still do. - she keeps on thinking right until it runs out.

ROY

In the end, after Havoc and Catalina take sobbing Sara away to their flat, it’s only Roy and Eli, alone.  Her, curled on the bed by Riza’s right side. Him, kneeling on the floor next to the bed by Riza’s left side. Each holding her hand.

It’s very late and very quiet, no sound besides Riza’s heavy breathing. She has lost consciousness days ago and ever since then, Roy has been staring into her unseeing eyes and trying to spot just a spark of awareness in them, just a little bit of brightness. It’s all for naught, of course. Her eyes are still brown, but they are no longer hers. He doesn’t know where his wife went to, but she’s not here. He told that Eli a thousand times and more and she would always nod in understanding and then lay back down on the folded sheets and resume tracing gentle circles on Riza’s limp hand.

So he gave up trying to talk her out of staying. Besides, her presence gives him comfort, he cannot deny it; she’s the other set of heartbeat in the room that is not going to go silent any time soon. And she’s the only one who can possibly come close to understanding what he feels, no matter how different was Riza’s role in her life compared to the one in his.

Riza, Riza, Riza. Slipping through their fingers so damn quickly. He keeps on begging for just one more smile from her, just one more word that means anything; not the delirious babbling that she sometimes lets out, not those screams full of fury when they try to move her. She just went under so quickly and violently that it makes his head spin.

‘’Life is no more than a candle burning in the darkness, about to get blown away at any moment.’’ – Eli whispers, breaking the silence.

Roy almost smiles at that. They’ve been playing this game of quotes ever since she was six, but recently, she started to win more than lose. His bright girl.

“I don’t know.’’ – he admits, his eyes trained on Riza’s face. God, she is still so beautiful. Her skin is clammy from sweat, lips half-opened and cheeks hollow and she remains the only woman he has ever had eyes for. – ‘’Who wrote it?’’

‘’Mom said it.’’

Eli’s voice is heavy and, when he takes a look at her, he realizes she’s on the verge of tears.

“She did?’’

‘’Yeah. She also said I should cherish the light as soon as it lasts. But - papa, this is - so hard.’’ – his daughter lowers her head, her hair falling down and obscuring her face from him, but he can still hear her choked sobs. Her shoulders are shaking. She hasn’t called him ‘’papa’ since Sara was born.

She does not deserve this, crosses his mind. Maybe it’s my punishment for all the things I did, but she’s innocent. She’s good. She does not deserve this.

He wonders what he can say to her to make it easier for her and finds himself empty-handed and terrified. So he settles for the only thing he can say.

‘’I know, baby. I know.’’

He holds out his free hand and she takes it. Her grip is strong and sure, and he thinks, once again when did she grow up, when did it happen? Five minutes ago she used to have two long braids and missing front teeth. Ten minutes ago she used to be a sleeping babe by Riza’s breast, cheeks pink and brows constantly furrowed, as if she was pondering about the universe’s biggest questions. And now she’s here, they’re both here, holding hands in a circle and waiting in silence for the candle to burn out.

*

‘’She wanted to say goodbye so badly. We had so much time and wasted it all.’’

‘’We did not waste any time, dad. I don’t think you can ever really say goodbye to someone like that.’’

*

Riza dies before the morning comes, choking on the blood flooding in her lungs and flashing the whites of her eyes in desperate attempt to catch yet another breath. Roy does not cry; instead, he stays solemn and still as a stone, his voice loud and clear, telling her how he remembers when they first met.

“What a life we had, my love. You can go now, rest.”

He can feel his heart beating in his throat.

Eli sobs helplessly, clutching Riza’s hand to her chest.

“I love you mom, I love you, I love you.”

Maybe Eli is right. What more can you say than that? I love you, I will miss you. And Riza already knows all of that, wherever she is.

“You don’t have to be brave anymore, Riza.” - He tells her, every word dipped in honey of years well-lived.

And then there is only silence, uninterrupted, ringing in his ears like a gunshot.

He can swear that his wife last breath was a sigh of relief.

ELIZABETH

Dawn finds Elizabeth curled on the swings in the garden.

She has laid down here after mom died, hours ago; slipped out of the house just when the lights of uncle Jean’s car appeared on the driveway. In part, she wanted to give them all the space to say their goodbyes and didn’t feel like she was needed inside. In another part, she just wanted to be somewhere else for a while.

Nobody told her that death had its own smell.

And nobody told her that her mom’s corpse will still be soft and warm after she passes away. That, if one would not look for it, you could even not notice she wasn’t breathing.

Elizabeth sat on the bed and felt as mom’s hand in hers was growing colder and all she could think of is that it’s still her mom.

And so she fled, her feet wet from the morning dew and sobs still tearing through her body.

She’s not crying now; it feels like she has run out of tears, to be honest.

Somewhere, at the back of her mind, she’s thinking: there are mom’s clothes hanging in the closet. Her shoes put neatly on the shelves by the door. Her favorite mug, the one with chipped rim, on her bedside table. Her favorite perfume, the one in a blue glass bottle,  in the bathroom.

What we’re supposed to do with all of that?

What am I supposed to do, when she’s gone?

Now it’s only her and sunrise, light caressing her face like her mom sometimes used to do, when she was tucking her in.  She closes her eyes and she can almost see that; moonlight coloring mom’s hair silver and her soft, low voice wishing her goodnight. The smell of her shampoo. The quiet rhythm of her steps on the carpet as she was leaving, the sound of the door shutting close because Elizabeth never wanted the ajar.

Mom used to sing to her when she was sick. Soon you’ll get better. Soon it’ll get better.

Elizabeth pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Maybe she can pretend it’s not real, if only for now. Maybe she can forget that their time has run out.

Maybe she can just – close her eyes and think about her mom, about her face and her voice.

Ooo-ah, you’ll get better soon.

Despite the morning chill, for a moment, all she feels is warmth.

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