#did winter get her sisters to help make furniture out of NATURE for him??

[safyresky]

found myself thinking of Blaise this afternoonsies, and how his courtship/post war life was like.

Cause like. You know. His brother is defeated, his parents are DEAD, he abolishes the monarchy bc fuck it. it's stupid. So now he works with Mother Nature to establish the democracy esque thing Crystal Springs is, and like, I'm sure that was a LOT but like I'm thinking specifically about his PERSONAL life right??

Like. He would NOT want to go back to live in the castle, even IF they hadn't imprisoned Pyros in there. Where did he live, you know? Did he sleep in MN's Garden until City Hall was built? Maybe it already WAS built? Did he go to Winter like hey, cool first date idea--wanna help me find my own place? :3

Just thinking of Blaise like, getting his LIFE together is plaguing my THOUGHTS. All of that PLUS he's crushing HARD on Winter (and she on him) and they're sort of seeing each other a few decades after the civil war, and just. MY BRAIN IS GOING CRAZY Y'ALL!

BLAISE! HECK! PUTTING YOUR LIFE TOGETHER AFTER LEAVING A TOXIC SITUATION! THAT FEELING WHEN YOU FINALLY MOVE OUT AND GET TO ADULT! DID HE GET A ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT IN A TREE SOMEWHERE WITH JUST A MATTRESS? AND DID WINTER GO "We'll have to hunt down some furniture for you" but Blaise, with this big smile, looking at his mattress and chair and desk just like "This is PERFECT right now :)"

They establish the Assembly, the cities and towns establish their own leaders, there's a group of reps from each province elected to serve on the assembly, and slowly but surely crystal springs is becoming this wonderful place, and Blaise is getting good at leading the BIG CITY, enough that each election he sails through it.

And maybe he thinks to himself like, "do they keep voting me in bc I'm good? or bc they're so use to a monarchy that they don't want to change things up?" not that he minds, of course, he loves what he and Mother Nature have turned the city, the provinces, THE COUNTRY into!

He and Winter go on many dates and he showers her with roses and he decides to propose and they talk about where they'd live and how many kids they'd have and do you think they could manipulate BOTH ELEMENTS? And he finally proposes and Wintr THAWS bc of their LOVE and it's al so MUCH and they break into city hall to elope the day OF, trouble be DAMNED and how nice is it to be free? Fuck! fucking EH! I did NOT expect BLAISE FEELS to be a thing today and YET

I AM HAVING FEELINGS, ABOUT BLAISE, CATCH ME CRYING AT MY DESK!

#blaise #crystal springs #did winter get her sisters to help make furniture out of NATURE for him?? #even tho he was just happy to have freedom? #bc that's REALLY what it boils down to #he doesn't have to answer to his mother or father anymore #he doesn't have to try and live up to IMPOSSIBLE standards #there's no more competing with his twin #but he feels a pang of sadness bc he loved his brother. he still DOES and NEVER competed bc it was DUMB #and also bc he was good at some things that pyros wasn't and vice versa #does he think to himself man. if pyros hadn't cracked we'd be co-ruling this shiz and making it a better place together??? #HE DOES. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT #IT'S JUST ALL VERY BITTERSWEET AND I'M SOBBING

[livlepretre]

Are there any real life moments or feelings that have made their way or informed scenes in any of your fics? Not asking about anything very deep or personal (unless you want to go there). For example, something as small as knowing specific places or sensations and using that to inform scenes better.

Oh tons and tons!

I did get lucky in two respects with writing tvd fic specifically--

I'm actually a painter in real life, so all of those details about using oil paints are from long years of personal experience, as well as all of the parts about drawing. The show is dreadfully wrong about the technicalities of how paint works, like, in just about every scenario, so it does grant me some satisfaction to write about it for real. (and to pretend that Klaus isn't an awful painter) (Writing about Elena as a writer is so much the same, though-- it's special as a writer to get to access a character who also writes, because there's that immediate connection to the process and the feelings that go with it)

The other is that the Originals happens to be set in Nola (for some reason), which I know better than any other place on earth. When I write about that, I'm really writing a love letter.

In general, I try to write about the places I really know well-- Nola and NYC are both pretty drawn out as portraits of those places just because I've spent so much time there (but, ummm, notice that all they seem to do in NY is drink and look at art, which is basically how I spent my 20s there ha) I picked Barcelona for SWBS in particular because I've actually been there, so I could write about my impressions of it (which get heightened in memory... and maybe that's a good thing for fiction) so much better than if I had picked, say, Marseilles where I've never been. That also extends to writing about the feelings certain places evoke-- the descriptions from the Met and the Frick, the air of nostalgia about them, the descriptions of the hall of broken Greek statuary, are all taken from a journal I was working in back when I was spending the winter in New York City and having a bizarrely melancholy time spending all day by myself at the Met.

Experience in the landscape is part of that. Every rural place feels different, and drawing on the physicality of the locations I've spent a lot of time hiking in like New Hampshire for example has really grounded the work. Also, paying attention to the things that are interesting-- I paint landscapes, mostly, so the shape of the land, the color and quality of the lighting, the kinds of flowers and trees and rocks, even the weight or lightness of the air itself, are all things which draw my attention anyway, so it's very natural for me to want to add them to fic-- and they all evoke really powerful sense memory for me, so I try to overlay that with any writing about emotions or introspection.

A lot of the details that fill the story in are just taken from personal interests-- like the books Elena reads in the library are almost all books I've read and loved, and which are influences one way or another on that story. Same for the hapless cooking experiments.

There's obviously also a ton in FE that I've gotten from talking to other people-- I personally have a knack for killing all plants I touch, but my mentor loves to garden, and invites me to paint in his garden all the time, so that's taken from him; I'm far too impatient for yoga or meditation, but again, that's the sort of thing my sister really benefits from, so I've talked to her about the experience of it a lot.

I think the creeping around old houses and snooping through shut in antique curiosities is like a very prime memory from my childhood. My grandfather had this ancient enormous ramshackle house from the 1860s that definitely used to be lots of different smaller buildings but were at some point seamed together; now, my grandmother was a legitimate hoarder (I'm being completely literal, like she makes the hoarders on TLC look like jokes), and there were lots of rooms that were shut off from the main part of the house because they were so full of dusty old interesting things, as well as a few outbuildings like that. My grandfather was very old, in his 90s, when I was a child, too old for him to really keep the house up, so my cousins and siblings and I used to run wild all through this house playing hide and go seek in those shut off rooms and corridors and finding lots of weird and inexplicable objects my grandmother had bought at auction back in the 50s and 60s and piled up high at the house. There were six hundred year old vases mixed in with old record players from the 60s, sewing kits from the 30s and boxes full of letters my great-grandfather had written and little statuettes from India and China and Vietnam sitting atop little two hundred year old painted tables. Just the wildest mix of mundane artifacts from my grandparents' actual lives mixed in with all of these beautiful old objects my grandmother used to collect. I think a lot of Elena's creeping around and hunting through drawers and going down corridors to peer into secret rooms probably stems from that childhood immersed in my grandfather's house, and then all of the time I spent as a teenager helping my mom go through it all and try to make sense of it after he died-- there's probably a weird level of specificity to the names and mechanics of different antique objects and furnitures in FE because I had to learn all about it to help my mom categorize and sell all of those things.

And that kind of takes me to one of the main things I really wanted to write about in this fic-- a detailed and empathetic dive into depression. It's never sat well with me that depression is so often so poorly depicted in media, especially on tv, and that it gets treated like a story arc (tvd season 4 is one of the worst offenders in this regard-- Elena's depression and grief from her brother dying is like a 4 episode arc and it's offensive). I had very severe depression as a teenager, compounded with a lot of grief, and I will probably always be melancholy because some things are just indelible. As a teenager, I was very much so hemmed in by death, and I was very frightened all the time; I was really broken by that experience, and I used to think the loneliness had sunk so deep inside of me that I couldn't even feel lonely anymore, or wish for anyone else. I was probably about 26 before I finally healed from this. These feelings are all probably major reasons why I'm drawn to Elena Gilbert as a protagonist, and why I read her as I do-- I know there are a lot of people who disagree with my interpretation of her, and it's possible that I am so convinced of my character reading of her because I was 20 and still battling in the heart of all of that trauma from my teen years and I felt a resonance with her. So, in writing FE in particularly, and SWBS to a lesser extent, I wanted to write about depression as honestly, openly, and lovingly toward the depressed as I could. I also wanted to write about loneliness, and grief, and what it's like to emerge from those things-- slowly, painfully, with lots of stumbles and hard, hard days. I can recognize that the depictions of depression in FE are ultimately just a reflection of my own personal experience wrestling with it-- but I'm trying to tell an ultimately hopeful story, capable of staring down into the deepest darkness and still clawing its way up into the light. Learning to write honestly about these feelings was hard-- I was so used to protecting myself and pretending that I wasn't something that had once been smashed to pieces that I found myself downplaying the emotions in my writing, being less honest. There came a point there where I realized this story was only ever going to be what I wanted it to be if I did get really honest, as much as possible. I often think of this story as being especially dedicated to the readers who recognize that experience-- and I hope it does, ultimately, read as a story about healing, as dark as it is.

#sevensistersofsussex #asks #on writing #fairytale ending #swbs #personal

[nothingunrealistic]

naturally was going "hmm what kind of fins (fish) would young taylor in the bathtub wish for. how would we know what they think would be the best fish tail to have" & then was just thinking of Younger Taylor Hcs just in general. got any you'd wanna share, or like, any faves from what's been provided either as unofficial ideas or via those glimpses of info in the show's text. Fave can be in a "truly enjoy this" way & or simply more of a "truly Thinking About This An Extra Lot" sense lol. They

Boy Do I… first, a listing of everything we Know from canon about their childhood / early life / family:

taylor grew up in “a place like” connerty’s small apartment where “the heat pipes bang practically all night” in the winter [2x11]

taylor’s mom would deem the apartment they rented for her & douglas too expensive, and if she & douglas were shopping for furniture, they’d argue about how much things cost [4x07]

taylor never thought they’d be thinking about living a life where they book private jets [2x09]

the masons’ home is hundreds of miles from any body of water (as shown here) and douglas had to fly to nyc to see taylor [4x03]

douglas figures taylor’s mom won’t miss him getting in her way back home [4x03]

taylor has a sister; when she gets married, in michigan, taylor is part of the wedding party [2x09]

at a young age, taylor was always measuring information around them, and sweet / affectionate, especially toward douglas [4x03]

taylor’s favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes [4x09]

taylor was never really douglas’s “little girl” like he claims [4x03]

the first time douglas brought taylor to his lab, it meant a lot to them, and the next day they gave him designs to remake it [4x06]

douglas taught taylor: “don’t just have an idea, build the model that proves it” [4x07]

according to douglas, taylor gets the “unyielding compulsion to get it right” from him, and their relationship was best when they “kept things mathematical” [4x03]

douglas wishes he could have built real wealth / success and given it all to taylor [4x03]

wendy mentions to taylor that douglas has “exploited your need for his approval,” and taylor agrees that douglas only cares about his own advancement rather than being a father first [4x07]

douglas dislikes the military / the government [4x06]

taylor is surprised by douglas quoting a pop song [4x07]

when taylor was younger, the bathtub was the only place they could go to be alone and think, and they’d press their legs against the sides hard enough to make them go numb [3x11]

taylor started playing online poker at age 12 under the screen name ZackCody892 and played up to 16 tables at a time (and for thousands of hours) [2x03]

douglas was fired from his job at an aerospace firm when taylor was in 7th grade. this firing damaged their relationship with him and “affected the home life.” for years, taylor thought douglas had been fired so that the firm could steal his invention, and only found out the truth from his personnel file [2x11, 4x05, 4x06]

taylor has had 927 hours of therapy prior to their session with dr. gus, and that number hasn’t changed at their first session with wendy [2x03, 2x08]

douglas, in bringing taylor food and coffee, claims they rarely take the time to look after themself [4x04]

taylor used to lie to themself and others but is now past that, and knows “how hard it is to have things inside you that you can’t communicate” and “what it’s like to face public scrutiny over who you are” [2x08, 3x02, 4x04]

when taylor reminds douglas about their pronouns, he says “this talk again?”, implying it’s a discussion they’ve had before [4x03]

taylor once got into a bar fight with a high school classmate (it’s unclear whether they were still in high school at the time) after seeing y tu mamá también in a theater [5x07]

taylor was active in occupy wall street in college [2x10]

taylor played poker in college against classmates, grad students, & professors, but their opponents kicked them out for winning too much; additionally, the competitive aspect made them sick (described as “malaise” or “vertigo-like symptoms”) [2x03, 4x12]

taylor planned to go to chicago for grad school and study with eugene fama [2x02]

mafee picked taylor as his intern because they were the only applicant who wasn’t boring / didn’t care about the same bullshit that everyone from wharton or harvard did [5x04]

douglas initiated the visit to taylor, claiming it was because he’d missed them, after not being ready to see them even though taylor’s mother wanted to visit countless times [4x03, 4x07]

taylor is trying to be “everything to their father” in funding his company, and neither of them will be able to come back from taylor being forced to betray him [4x06, 4x07]

wow that’s a long list. and now, my own thoughts and extrapolations:

taylor grew up somewhere in the west / midwest with their parents and sister, who’s a few years older than them, in a house small enough that they had to share a bedroom with her. hence, needing to hide out in the bathtub to get any space & time alone.

from very early on, taylor was douglas’s favorite child and he was their favorite parent — douglas saw taylor’s intelligence & insight (and saw himself in them) and chose to put time & effort into teaching / guiding / molding them, hoping they’d one day follow in his footsteps / support his ambitions, and taylor liked that attention & recognition. (douglas’s attitude toward taylor’s sister is essentially “well she’s here too i guess.”)

douglas taught taylor enough about aerospace engineering & mathematics for them to understand the value of his lattice fin concept, and to generally have a better grasp of engineering concepts than your average (even very well-read) business major / financier. (remember how rebecca knew a robot’s “proprietary” power source was a combustion engine because her father was a mechanic? same deal here. see also: the “smash electronics apart to find the microchips inside and figure out who makes them” strategy; taylor comparing losing grigor’s money to building a turbo engine and having the nitrous tank blow up in their face.) this manifested in both directly teaching them in his lab and in playing games like the silverware-stacking game we see in 4x03, or like douglas throwing out math problems for taylor to solve on the spot, or the two of them solving math problems together.

douglas also imparted his taste in music (which does not include anything new / popular) to taylor, though their taste as an adult (or even as, like, a teenager) isn’t identical to his. this is how they discovered rush in the first place and why they have such strong opinions about The Best Rush Albums. (if douglas had such a ranking, it’d be closer to axe’s than to taylor’s.)

listening to rush helped make taylor a libertarian 😔 that’s just life when you’re a neil peart stan, which of course they are. they admire his lyrics + his drumming talent + his absolute poker face in performances.

douglas also taught taylor to play blackjack, which inspired them to go and learn poker on their own and start playing online. they tried to keep it a secret, but it's hard to be secretive about spending hours a day playing online poker on the family computer. (this is 2006 or so, after all.)

taylor figured out that they were Not A Girl (or at least had thoughts of “hm i don’t enjoy being addressed / perceived as A Girl”) fairly young but didn’t acquire a concrete vocabulary for / specific understanding of that for some time. (if douglas is calling they/them pronouns “that woke stuff” in 2019, he sure wasn’t saying anything clear or favorable about trans people in 2009 or 1999. ditto for online poker sites.)

douglas’s firing exacerbated every negative aspect of the mason family dynamic. he doubled down on pushing taylor toward his field, urging them to succeed where he’d failed, and warning them against letting anyone Steal Their Value. money got tighter, taylor’s parents argued more, and any activities taylor was in (like, say, swimming at the ymca) that required payment got cut; they may have figured out how to make money (illegally!) from online poker at this point. the combined stress of financial instability, being torn between pursuing their own ambitions and fulfilling douglas’s expectations for them, and increasing Gendered Expectations in general — plus the whole “playing online poker for hours a day” thing — probably put taylor in therapy within a few months, if they weren’t in therapy already. (how did their parents pay for it? i don’t know either.)

stealing this from that interview asia & brian & david did in 2017: if taylor had not already taught themself to think and speak directly & incisively and look people in the eye when they talk, et cetera, it started here, whether in therapy or on their own time.

taylor went to college in new york city. douglas did not want them to do this, for a number of reasons, and would have preferred they stick closer to home (and study something other than finance), but doing so would have made them miserable.

by the time they finished high school (circa 2012), taylor had properly heard of trans people and figured that they were somehow One Of Them, but not until college did they hear of people being nonbinary and go “ohhhh yeah that’s me.” (they’d also gotten a Short Haircut in high school, but didn’t go full buzzcut until college. unsurprisingly, they got some shit in high school for being Visibly gnc.)

for some period of time while figuring out their gender situation, taylor went by the name neil as a nod to neil peart. (it’s fun to imagine that they still have a faceless twitter / tumblr account where they go by neil. doubles as a way to prevent anyone connecting it to their real life.)

taylor came out to their family while in college. their mom and sister had fairly similar reactions of “well i don’t Get this exactly, but i love you and want to support you and i’m sure you know what you're talking about better than i do and you did clearly hate it every time i urged you to conform to Standards Of Womanhood so sure i can call you Them and my [child / sibling] :)” given some time to think about it. douglas… well. if he’s starting from a place of “i don’t get this,” he’ll end up at “so it must be wrong and stupid, because i’m always right,” especially if This = his favorite child being different in some significant way from who / what he thought they were. obviously he doesn’t react well or supportively, and the strain in his relationship with taylor tips over into full-blown estrangement. bad times for everyone.

if taylor’s bar fight happened when they were old enough to legally enter a bar, it happened after coming out to their family (also after the live poker fiasco), and before making plans for grad school / internships. most likely it was on a summer break they were spending back in their hometown. (another fun thought: taylor seeing the video of axe punching a guy, just weeks after they punched a guy, and going “well maybe i should work for him.”)

if douglas was at taylor’s sister’s wedding (and maybe he wasn’t!), it was awkward for everyone when he and taylor crossed paths again. barest of pleasantries, passive-aggressive comments, et cetera. naturally, it took a few more years — and douglas realizing that taylor, now being fairly wealthy and successful, could probably fund his dream project if they didn’t hate him — for him to decide to visit them.

#inbox #unproduciblesmackdown #billions #taylor mason #douglas mason #this post brought to you by ''if i had you'' and ''for your entertainment'' by adam lambert. absolute bangers #also partway through writing this i went and searched ''neil peart stan'' (sans quotes) on twitter and i definitely didn't get there first

[fuwafuwamedb]

The Blue Haired Boy From the Other Side of the Fire (Rin, Cu Chulainn, Kirei, Gilgamesh)

She’d seen him the first time during a school trip.

The priest had sent her off with the other children, waving as the bus has gone. She’d laughed, chatted away with the other kids on the bus until they had reached the woods. Their teachers had led them into the woods with the other chaperones and parents, helping them pitch tends and build a fire.

All together, they’d gathered in the large open field of a camp ground and sang songs or chattered away more. A few of the girls were making bracelets together, but she hadn’t been able to focus.

The moment she’d turned to ask to join, she’d seen a flash of blue.

There looked to be a boy there, watching from the other side of the flames. His red eyes gleamed like the depths of the fire, drawing her closer and closer. She tried to move around the fire a bit, to go talk to the boy, but he wasn’t on the other side.

She moved back, back to the spot she’d been in before.

The boy smiled, giving a small wave.

“Tohsaka!”

Rin paused as she felt an arm around her waist, yanking her back.

“Tohsaka! It’s dangerous to go too close to the fire.”

“Emiya,” Rin frowned at the redhead, her eyes going back to the fire.

Once more, the blue haired boy had vanished.

“Did you see where the blue haired boy went?”

Emiya followed her gaze, frowning deeper at the empty side of the fire. “Are you talking about Matou Shinji or Ryuudou Issei?”

“No, this boy had red eyes.” Rin frowned, looking around at the campsite again.

She’d seen the boy in the fire. Not around it, not chatting on the other side of it. It was only from the position she’d been in before that she’d been able to see him.

Why was she seeing him at all though?

The campers and the adults all went to bed, the many a couple adults moving to watch the fire for a bit while they rested. She could see one of them scampering off, leaving the fire area unattended for the moment.

So- naturally, she had to go over to the fire.

He was there again, hair messed up and wearing strange armor.

Rin reached out, trying to touch the boy.

“TOHSAKA!”

The adult was back.

Her luck, it seemed, had run out.

Rin listened to Kirei complain when she got home.

Playing with fire, tempting god’s method of smiting; the priest was going on for far too long. He was getting a bit annoying now that she was stuck listening to him. It was him who was making her donate money for his church. She could have been getting more magecraft books, but she had to donate. It was like a bill for mages.

Bills were stupid though.

“Go home.”

The priest glared at her, making her stick her tongue out at him.

“The elegance and refinement of the Tohsaka name is being besmirched by your childish behavior.” Kirei moved to the door. “Your servants will be watching. I would suggest you behave yourself better for them, lest god and all his angels take away the gift of your magecraft. There are many sad ends for little mages who lose their powers to god’s divine will.”

Rin shivered.

Still, fear of divine intervention or not, it was a week later she found herself passing the big fireplace in the living room when she saw that the fire was lit.

The boy sat on the other side of the flames, grinning and waving softly as they made eye contact.

Rin covered her eyes, moving to the stairs.

There was no such thing as fire boys.

The house was older. As much as she wanted to avoid seeing him again, Rin couldn’t help but to light fires each cold winter night. She found herself moving from chair to chair, peeking around their backs to look towards the fire.

Sometimes, the boy was injured.

The would be crisscrossing wounds across his arms or his face. Sometimes his hair was slicked back and sometimes it was falling loose around his shoulders. Sometimes he had a blackened eye or nose. Other times, he was fine, smiling and waving.

He always wore fur clothing and leather straps.

He always smiled and waved her way.

“Who are you?”

She had to ask.

The wind was howling around the house and the winter was being especially harsh. She was trapped in the house and food was dwindling.

He was moving his mouth, but she couldn’t hear it.

“I. Am. Rin.” She motioned at herself, speaking slowly.

The other was talking, but the words weren’t reaching her.

Rin groaned, leaving the fireplace area and walking to her books. She could feel the stirring in her stomach, the empty insides of her stomach pounding at the rest of her body. She couldn’t use the electricity to make something to eat. The food on the counter and in the cupboards was dwindling with the mounting snow outside.

Claws were carving at the insides of her chest as the night went to day.

Looking outside, she could see the blizzard was worsening.

The television wasn’t working. The radio was broken.

She’d turned the knob and the thing had screeched for several minutes before she’d tried tossing it down the stairs. She moved around the kitchen, climbing onto the counters and wondering if the servants would come through the snow to deliver food.

A beast was growling for how loud her stomach growled.

Throwing the rest of the logs onto the fire, Rin moved herself and all the blankets to the hearth sitting area. She moved the chairs to block the colder air in the room.

The boy frowned, moving a little closer.

For hours, she looked over at him, waiting and waiting for something to happen.

She could hear the winds on the rooftop. She could see the flames flicker around the image of the boy.

She could see the food in his hands and closed her eyes, trying not to move more than she needed to. The pain was worsening. Her toes had never felt so cold before.

Blue Hair moved his lips again.

“I can’t hear you,” Rin murmured.

The boy moved closer, raising a hand.

“It’s pointless,” she told him. “Magecraft can’t make a fire a portal to anywhere. I shouldn’t be able to see anyone in the fire right now.”

The boy looked closer, lifting his head a little higher as though to get a better view. His red eyes flashed, his hand motioning for her to wait a moment.

“I never even got to be in a grail war.”

There was so much pain. There was so much coldness. The fire was dying, the flames turning to mere embers as she felt one of the windows in the room shatter under the weight of the snow.

A pair of arms pulled her from the ground. She could feel warmth, great and wonderful warmth, pressing against her chest as her arms were wrapped around a pair of shoulders.

The warmth spun out around her. She opened her eyes, looking around at the flames all around her.

The world was filled with trees and greenery. She could see the air filled with smoke, her body moved carefully to the ground nearby.

“Hang on,” a blurry figure told her. “I’m going to pour some of the broth from my dinner for you. You’re looking like you’re on Dun Scaith’s doorstep, lass.”

Her eyes closed.

~

Kirei moved quietly, cursing the weather and the conditions of the world.

Emergency services were moving around the city, delivering supplies to those in need, but they had failed in getting to the Tohsaka residence.

He could see the window was shattered to the living room, the main floor almost entirely covered by the packed in snow. He had to double back, gathering the foolish king of Heroes from his restful slumber.

“She’s probably dead.”

Kirei shot him a look, climbing off the emergency snow mobile and rushing to the house.

The king pulled a ladder from his gates, helping him into the building and down to the main floor.

Wrappers and trash littered the floor.

The chair and the furniture had been overturned, blocking the view of the fireplace.

“Smart kid,” Gilgamesh mumbled.

She was smart. It’s what would make her a good candidate for part of the grail in the future. They had a couple years before it was time for the war. She was ready for this. Or rather, she would be.

The king had to help with moving the furniture.

The girl had actually taped and glued a blockade around the fire, keeping the heat contained to a smaller space.

But… there was no body.

“Where… Where did she go?”

Kirei looked over at the king, watching the golden haired man moved to the fire and smirk.

“Gilgamesh-“

“I have not seen this kind of magecraft before… I thought you said the Tohsaka girl only did gem magecraft?”

“She only does gem based magecraft. Her father knew nothing else himself. The only magic they can do otherwise is the spirit evocation and their talents at that…” He held off, noting the look from the other.

“This was not simple magecraft that could be done with gems.”

The man knelt down, running his fingers over the ashes.

“This smells divine.”

~

And divine it was.

Rin smiled softly, feeling the familiar pair of arms wrapping around her waist. Her stomach pain was lessening. The world was coming back into focus. Her arms and her legs felt so weak, but the boy behind her didn’t mind that.

Looking at her from before the fireplace in their small wooden home, the boy grinned.

“Feeling up for some food, Rin?”

“I think I can eat it myself today,” Rin replied, turning around and wrapping her arms around him. “Just hand me my bowl and I’ll prove it.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.”

“I got you something for after we’re done eating as well.”

Something for after they were done eating?

Rin sat up, slowly resting against the wall and the pillows as the boy moved to where his bags were. He was shifting things around, pulling out a small parchment wrapped object.

At noting her eyes upon him, he waved the object in his hands, grinning proudly.

“The witch of Dun Scaith heard me talking during my last training session. She and her sister gave it to me for you. You said you did gem magic so… You’ll have to see what it is after we eat.”

“Cu Chulainn!”

“And not a second before that.” He moved over to the fireplace and settled into one of the two seats.

The flash of a smile was the same as ever.

And, as they settled in, she almost wondered if she had had a life before this.

Time and possibilities had never felt so endless before she had wrapped her arms around the blue-haired boy from the other side of the fire.

#drabble #drabbles

[mommymooze]

The Legendary Mister Bones

“Homework! Momma gave us homework during winter break?“ Jeralt huffs at his twin sister.

“Well, if you wouldn’t have broke the vase we probably could still be playing Knights and thieves in the halls. She’s just keeping us busy and out of trouble. I know these things.” Sothifina complains, her brows furrowing over her emerald green eyes.

Lambert, oldest of the four Blaiddyd children gathers them into an old meeting room repurposed for their tutoring. Seated at the end of a large table they gather writing instruments and paper.

The Queen enters with the youngest child. Blue hair and large blue eyes, the boy is lowered from his mother’s hip. He hugs his mother’s legs, then runs to his siblings, hugging them all like it has been weeks since he has seen them when in reality it has only been since breakfast. Lambert picks up his little brother and seats him on the chair next to him. There are a few books on the seat as a booster, so that he can see well over the top of the table. Lambert places the box of colored waxes next to him with papers. Glenn is barely six and learning to write letters and his name. Professor Ignatz says he has natural talent, so Glenn will be the artist for this project.

“I want you all to work on writing a story for me. When it is finished you can read it to us before bedtime. You all will work together on it.” The Queen smiles, however, the children heard that serious tone to her voice, and they would have to follow her royal orders. “I will have lunch brought to you. Lambert is in charge. Jeralt, before you try to escape, I have a guard posted at the door.”

An audible groan emits from Jeralt, he hitshis forehead on the table.

“Behave. I love you.” Queen Byleth says as she leaves, closing the door behind her.

“Told you.” Sothifina says with a smirk.

Jeralt creeps to the door and sneaks a peak through a crack. “It’s Bones. We’re stuck.”  Trudging back to his chair he puts his elbow on the table and jams his chin onto his hand.

“What shall we write about?” Lambert works to get them organized.

Glenn chirps excitedly, “Lammy! We can write about Mister Bones!” The most creative of the bunch has found the answer.

“Yes!” Jeralt begins to get excited. “We can have sword fights and battles and …”

“Magic!” Sothifina cuts in.

The four are now excited about the project. Lambert takes notes about what to include in the story.

The prince was lost deep in the woodlands of Faerghus, far from his warm, safe home in Fhirdiad. He bravely battled alone against thieves and brigands and everyone that had threatened the peaceful life in the nearby villages. It was a cold and stormy night when he sought refuge in a hut nestled deep within the darkest, scariest heart of the woods. He was not well.

“That’s a good start.” Lambert says, thinking out loud.

“But you only say there was fighting. I want to talk about the fight itself, and blood spraying and arms flying off and sparks when the blades hit each other.” Whines Jeralt as he waves his quill around like a sword stabbing in the direction of his sister.

“I know what comes next, let me do this part.” Sothifina’s eyes sparkle as she puts ink to paper.

The Prince entered the dilapidated building with great caution. The furniture was ruined and appeared to be very, very, old. Taking his lance tip, he poked at the bed but only found nests of rats and mice. At the foot of the bed, covered in decaying cloths, he jabbed his lance into the pile and was rewarded with the sound of something solid amongst the refuse. He swiped the filthy and ruined materials away to find a black box. It stood as tall as his knee and was covered by black metal. The box was locked. No normal man would be able to open the lid of the box, but the Prince was certainly not ordinary. As if he were opening a birthday present, he ripped the lid from the box and peered inside.

A dark black book covered in magical runes sat on the top. He did not know magic so he put it away to save for his daughter.

“You can’t say that. He didn’t know anything about getting married, much less having kids at that time.” Lambert frowns

Okay, Okay Let me fix it.” Sothifina sticks her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates.

He did not know magic, but felt it wise to stash the book away, keeping it safe from enemy hands.

That’s better, now we can talk about enemies with swords and blades and fighting.” Jeralt chimes in.

��No. Not yet. Remember father has told us these stories, but we are trying to write it more focused on Mister Bones.” Sotifina chastises her twin, trying very much to sound like mother.

Jeralt sits back in his chair, resting his cheek in his palm as he kicks the table leg next to him while trying to be patient.

Below the book there were three mysterious daggers, each having a different colored stone within the center of the hilt. A ring lay alongside them. The last and most important item in the box was a sack tied with a red ribbon. The sack was very old, but it looked new compared to everything else found in the hut.  He took it out of the box and lay it on the ground. He untied the sack and peered inside. It was nothing but a bag of old bones. human bones, and nothing else. He turned away to poke at other piles on the floor with his lance when a rattling sound caught his attention. Strange magic was afoot as  before him, from the bones in the sack a skeleton started to assemble itself. The last piece was the skull that rolled up the front of the body and settled on the neck. The skeletons hands made a final adjustment and then stood absolutely still in front of him. The man stood back and gasped, his hand coming to his heart. “What kind of monster are you?” he said as he was shocked to see the skeleton.

“Bonesss” the skeleton answered. So he called the skeleton Bones from then on.

Bones stayed with the prince throughout the first five years of the war. It was like a skeleton version of Dedue, always working hard for the Prince and helping him with his goals. Bones would hold the cloak of the prince over him while he slept, like a big boney tent frame. Bones did not talk much. The Prince, because he was sick, did not really wanted to be talked to, so they got along very well.

One night, close to the Millennium festival at the monastery, the Prince had to get rid of some thieves that were stealing rare artifacts. The prince held his lance on high and announced in a mighty voice, “Die you foul and dirty rats! I shall cleanse the world of you! He swung his mighty lance with his super great strength and took out five of them with a single blow! He was truly awesome and cool.

“We did pretty good until this last part. This is supposed to be about Mister Bones, not about father.” Lambert tries to rein in his younger brother. Let me fix that last paragraph entirely.

It was getting closer to the Millennium festival’s celebration time. Although the festival would not be held due to the war, all of the Blue Lions agreed to meet at the monastery on that date. The prince, although he was suffering, he too wanted to be there at the academy. He was joined by Bones, his loyal companion. The deadly duo were the first to arrive. They found the evildoers hiding in the great hall. The prince raised his mighty lance and fought the thieves that had tried to make this place their home. Bones fought alongside the Prince. Bones was a mighty fighter, wielding two swords at the same time. Bones was careful to watch the Prince’s back, protecting him from anyone that may try to sneak up on him. Bones did not worry about getting killed in battle, he was already dead. They could stab him and hit him and he could not bleed or feel pain. One of the thieves was a mage, and tried to burn bones with fire. Bones still felt no pain and because he was made with magic the fire did not affect him. Bones took his swords and attacked the mage, finishing him off like the Prince did with his fellow bandits.

Bones was very strong and took the bodies outside while the Prince tended to his wounds. They cleaned out the Great Hall and the Training grounds. They cleaned out the students dormitories. They found that some of the thieves had locked themselves in a students room. Bones finger fit in the lock and opened it like it was a skeleton key. Then the duo ran into the room, swords and lance flashing, bringing swift justice against the evil thieves.  

The prince knew that Bones was magical but not indestructible. Sometimes his bones would break and they would have to be repaired. This took a lot of time, so they took the armor off of the thieves and evil people they came across. Some of it they used to protect bones, some of it they used to repair the prince’s armor. Bones was very scary to anyone meeting him in battle. With a helmet and plate across his chest, greaves and gauntlets, heavy boots, Bones looked more like a regular person, until you were close and looked into his face. Some cowards ran as soon as they saw what he really was.  Once they had cleared most of the buildings, they cleared the Cathedral and the last building was the Goddess tower.  It was a difficult battle, mostly fought on stairs where the enemy had the advantage, but Bones and the Prince refused to give up. They fought until the last enemy had been dispatched.  They sat together on the highest level. The prince needed sleep and Bones needed to repair many of his bones that were broken in the last fight.

Professor Byleth soon came back to the monastery after her very long sleep. She found the Prince sleeping at the top. They talked and then they had to go out and remove more thieves. He told Bones to come along and he did. The Professor looked at Bones and went along to go and fight. She was not scared of the walking skeleton.

They ran outside and found their classmates one by one. They had not noticed Bones until the fighting was over.  Bones was standing a distance behind the prince when Annette looked over and saw the face sticking out of the helmet. She screamed and threw a fireball at the skeleton. Bones stood still as the leather on the armor he was wearing caught fire and burned.  The Prince explained how he found Bones and that was his companion and nobody on his side should try to kill him.

Lysithea, Annette and Ashe disagreed. It was like having a ghost living with them because Bones was dead and so were ghosts. Professor Byleth explained that this was magic and it was okay.  The three of them stayed as far away as they could because Bones creeped them out. Mercedes thought it was funny and laughed and help put out the fire on Bones.

They all moved back into their own dormitories, except for the Prince who still was ill and had terrible headaches. He stayed in the Cathedral and Bones watched over him there. Things went okay unless a certain trio had to bring food to the Prince. Bones would prevent anyone from attacking him and stand in front of the prince so that he could not attack them either. This week the first to bring food was Mercedes.  She waved to bones as she brought a plate of lunch. She tried to talk to the Prince but he ignored her. When she got back to her friends, Lysithea, Ashe and Annette were all very curious as to how it went. Was she attacked? What happened?

Mercedes said it went quietly.  “Dimitri ignored me. Bones looked very calm. I guess nothing can get under his skin, eh?

Ashe started to chuckle, “Oh! I get it! He doesn’t have any skin to get under. Hah.”

Lysithea groaned while Annette just looked worried about when it was her turn to bring food.

Wherever the Prince went, Bones followed behind and stood behind him. The skeleton was large and his chest was very wide. It reminded everyone of Dedue, who they were told died when he saved Dimitri from being assassinated.

Some of the students decided maybe they could give Bones a different look, just so they would not think of it being so much like Dedue.  They told Bones to take off his armor if he was just around the monastery. That pretty much creeped out Annette, Ashe and Lysithea even more. Mercedes found a light blue dress in the back of the bathhouse, so she put that on Bones. They tied white gloves to the wrists and put a large white wide brimmed hat on the skull. Annette was even brave enough to get really close and put rouge on the cheeks of the skull. Annette giggled. Now Bones looked pretty funny and not really scary at all.

They started making skeleton jokes at dinner.

“Hey Ashe! When does a skeleton laugh? When you tickle it’s funny bone!” Annette giggled.

“I got one.” Mercedes piped up, “How does the skeleton know if it is raining? It can feel it on its bones.”

Lysithea joined in, “Why didn’t the skeleton go to the ball? Because it had no BODY to go with.”

Linhardt was walking past and felt obligated to contribute. “Why did the skeleton not get up in the morning? Because it was a lazy bones.”

“Takes one to know one, Lin” Lysithea quipped, hoping to get under his skin.

One day the army had to head out for a mission. The group moved slowly due to their numbers. Dimitri spoke to Bones, sending him forward to scout out the roads. Bones ran ahead and after a while Bones ran back.

“50 Banditsss ahead” Bones said in a heavy whisper.

Sylvain and Lysithea were very shocked. Nobody had told them Bones could speak!

The army prepared and were able to vanquish the bandits with no trouble and few injuries. Bones was a useful scout and became invaluable to the army as the war continued.

The Prince was slowly feeling better. He was practicing the lance with Sylvain. Felix entered the training grounds. As soon as Felix took a training sword, Bones stood in front of him.

“Pull my finger” Bones said.

“What the heck.” Grunts Felix.

Bones holds out his hand and finger in front of Felix.

Felix pulls his finger.

Bones entire arm falls off.

“Ssssee you in court” Bones says then turns away. “Ssssucker” and walks back to stand behind Dimitri.

Felix stands there with the arm hanging from his hand.

Sylvain cannot hold it back any longer and begins to laugh his head off. Even the prince is laughing. Felix gets angry and beats Sylvain over the head with the arm and calls Sylvain a Numbskull.

Lambert stops just as lunch carts come through the door. Papers are cleared and the table is set, each child doing their assigned duty. Glenn places the napkins just so, making sure the silverware is lined up correctly. Lambert then fills the plates of his siblings. They talk about other things they know about Mister Bones and after lunch they will continue their homework. Jeralt and Sothifina had been writing their apology letters for disobeying the rule of playing Knights and Bandits inside the palace. Glenn was working on several illustrations for the story.

 Mister Bones fought well along with the rest of the former students. He did not need healing. He never bruised or bled. Lindhardt said that was his favorite thing about him. The skeleton would help protect everyone it could in battles. A thief would stab through the plate on his chest so Bones would turn, dragging the thief with him, disarming the thief or knocking them off balance so that they could be defeated.

There were a few things that were successful at attacking the animated bones. The dogs of the monastery were always following him around trying to steal a bone or two. Most of them gave up quickly, however there was one Blaiddyd Rex that was extremely fast and strong. It would hide around a corner, only to bound up to full speed, grabbing a leg bone and pulling it from the skeleton. They would then find it half buried somewhere inside the grounds.

Although very resistant to magic, heavily bladed wind spells would also cause damage to Mister Bones. It would have to soak in hot milk mixed with spinach, broccoli and collard greens to help him rebuild his calcium. He also used powdered bones mixed with thick cheese to fill in breaks and cracks. Fortunately, Mister Bones knew of his self-care needs. He could disassemble into his bones and fit in a large stewpot, so not a lot of the army’s food resources were needed for his caretaking. The only issue would be if the cooks came in early and checked the pot on the stove only to find a skeleton head smiling back at them.

Bones would help around the monastery, never tiring, never complaining. For being made of bones he was very strong. It  could pick up anyone, even Alois in full plate armor. Bones did a lot of rubble clearing, working all day, never breaking a sweat. While the former students and teachers would have meetings and stop for meals, it would be able to continue working. The Professor found that Bones was helpful in food gathering and hunts. They were quiet and very patient. Bones would direct her to a specific area in the woods where there would be plentiful mushrooms. One time the Professor asked why the skeleton knew where the mushrooms were there.

Mister Bones said, “I feel it in my…”

That was the last time the Professor asked that question.

Mister Bones was of use to everyone in battle. Besides being there to defend the Prince, they also helped defend the rest of the team mates. His bones were used temporarily as splints when theirs were broken. Whenever anyone was too weak to fight, he was the first to take them back to the medical tents.  When they were short of horses returning after a battle, it would give them piggyback rides all the way to the monastery. Whenever someone was sad, it listened patiently as they told of their woes and gave a boney hug to anyone that needed it.

When the war was over, Mister Bones was a participant in the coronation. Standing proudly next to the Professor who became the Archbishop, they held the crown that would be placed on Dimitri’s brow. It also attended the ball afterwards and had danced with every one of the Blue Lions and even a few members of the Golden Deer. Nobody worried about dancing with the skeleton, it never complained about anyone stepping on its feet.

It was a permanent figure at the castle and went with King Dimitri and Dedue on all their travels and missions. They frequented Garreg Mach for negotiations with Lords from the surrounding lands and other countries. There was a new church built in Fhirdiad, the Church of Sothis which is now headed by the Archbishop Byleth. The King and Archbishop married and live in the castle in the capital of the country. As with many marriages, they are blessed with children.

The Queen first has the baby in a cradle at the side of the bed, however after a few months, the baby is now in the adjoining nursery. The royal couple is awakened in the dark hours of early morning by a baby’s cry. The queen slowly awakens, dons her robe and slippers and opens the nursery door. To her surprise, Mister Bones is already there, changing the diaper of the young prince, then warmly swaddling the baby, he takes it in his bony arms, sits in the nearby rocking chair and rocks the baby asleep. The skeleton has been with the Queen many times as she has cared for the babe, perhaps it has learned this from her?  The Queen softly speaks, “I trust you Bones, should the baby need me, please do not hesitate to find me. Thank you for your yelp”

A silent nod is noted as the babe is slowly rocked to sleep.

The King and Queen had found that Mister Bones was an excellent nanny for the children. Bringing them to the queen for feedings, he then took them to be burped, changed and put back to bed. Bones would not sing them to sleep, he would tap on his ribs that would make musical notes and play them songs until the babies drifted into a peaceful sleep. He then stood guard next to their cribs so that no harm would come to them. As the babies grew older, the babies found that legbones of a skeleton were great to use to pull into a standing position. Also, skeletons had no limitations of how long they could bend over watching babies as they walked holding onto their legs. Jeralt learned to climb up the body of the skeleton to sit on its shoulders before he learned out to walk. Always the daredevil, Jeralt would urge bones to walk around so that Jeralt could grab at people that the skeleton ambled past.

Mister Bones was a very important and loved member of the Blaiddyd family. They all lived happily ever after.

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe16 #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #Byleth #Byleth Eisner #my stories #fe3h

[monsterywriting]

Zombie Boyfriend Adam

Read the original parts here and here

AN: I can hardly believe it’s almost been a whole year since i started this blog (though i haven’t been as consistent as i had wanted/was planning to be).

I started this blog off with Adam, so i wanted to end this year with a rewrite of my very first story i posted. Hopefully there has been an improvement in my writing as well lol.

word count: 7.6k

Living alone in the middle of nowhere had many perks, all of which you could appreciate fully as a hermit who enjoyed immensely the understated solitude of nature, a cabin in the mountainside during the off season.

Nearly three months had flew by since you first agreed to fix up your grandmother’s old lakeside cabin and you had yet to tire of the place, even more so once the last of the other cabin owners and late season renters left and the snowy season began.

The cabin had been vacant for half a year, your parents finally succeeding in convincing your grandmother to move back to the valley below. She was getting older, and her eyesight had been going over the years, so her spending winters alone up here hadn’t been feasible any longer.

So you were now tasked with getting the place ready to be rented out by next summer, and you had your work cut out for you. The most pressing structural wrk that needed to be done had been completed over the summer, making the place livable for you to move in during the fall. Your work over the winter consisted mostly of sorting through everything that had been left in the house and keeping the place dust-free until spring. Once the snow thawed you would finally be able to complete the more cosmetic changes; fresh coats of pain, new furnishings and the like.

Your grandmother’s cabin sat alone on a hill overlooking the frozen lake, the first cabin built at the site. Other cabins dotted the shore in small clusters, the nearest one halfway around the lake. The clearing was surrounded by great pines, the only break in the tree line to the right of your cabin, the space the road carved from the final cabin all the way down to town and which was currently buried underneath several feet of snow.

You were currently pushing a large wardrobe down the hill towards the road. It had been in one of the three upstairs bedrooms, the one that you had spent your summers staying in. You had hoped to salvage some of the old wooden furniture, but a bad roof leak had left almost all of it water damaged.

It was still a shock to you to see the second home you remembered so dilapidated, the only evidence that they were one in the same the personal touches you and your siblings had left over the years—a sticker here placed by your brother, a knick there from your sister trying knife throwing. Now, it would remain on the side of the road for easier loading to take to the dump once the snow melted.

You struggled to maneuver the bulky wardrobe down safely, at first worrying that it would slide uncontrollably all the way down the hill and then as the ground grew uneven that it would topple over when the legs kept getting caught. Just as the wardrobe got stuck for the umpteenth time, you suddenly had the sensation of being watched.

The hair on the back of the your neck stood on end as you spun around, scanning the tree line where you thought you felt the stare come from. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if you’d actually caught something looking back, but whatever it was had been at it for days now. At first, you just assumed it was some wild animal hoping to find some food, but it had been so consistent and long now that you were no longer sure what to make of it.

Deciding it best not to linger outside for too long, you shuddered and turned back to the wardrobe, giving it a particularly hard shove in your rush to dislodge it and get back inside. However, instead of moving again, the entire wardrobe tipped over, making you lose balance as well.

The wardrobe fortunately stayed where it landed once it crashed into the floor, but you weren’t so lucky as you immediately started rolling the moment you hit the ground. You flailed wildly in an attempt to find some sort of purchase to stop yourself before finally landing unceremoniously on the hard frozen gravel next to the road. Wheezing slightly, you picked yourself up off the ground, horrified to find both your palms scraped and bloody. Your temple was throbbing in pain, and you felt a warm wet roll down the side of your face.

Stooping down, you felt around the ground for your glasses, squinting to try and focus your vision enough to look for them. You finally found them on the road, cracks completely covering both lenses and one completely falling apart when you lifted them.

You groaned, this the only pair you had with you and unable to drive down to town for at least another month, meaning you were effectively blind until then. The snow didn’t help, either, you couldn’t even rely on colorful smears to tell you what you were looking at.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Someone called out to you from down the road.

You turned like a deer caught between fast approaching headlights, well aware of the fact that there shouldn’t be anyone this high up on the mountain besides you right now. Even with your terrible vision, you could tell whoever it was towered over you, impossible for you to even think about fighting them off—or running as he reached you. You couldn’t even begin to make out the details of his appearance underneath the layers of winter clothes and black shades he wore, only able to tell that he had long black hair, making him appear paler than he already was.

The stranger bent down to get a closer look. At least, you assumed that was what he was doing since you couldn’t tell what his eyes were doing underneath the sunglasses.

“Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Looks like it’s just a scrape,” the stranger murmured to himself while holding your head in place and pushing your hair out of the way.

“Sorry, but who exactly are you?” You lifted your arm to press the sleeve of your jacket to the cut on your forehead and squinted up at him, getting on your tiptoes trying to get a better look, “I didn’t think anyone else would be staying here during the winter- and I don’t remember you from this summer…”

You definitely would’ve noticed such a giant guy walking around, a thought reinforced as you gripped his forearm.

The stranger seemed to grow nervous under your scrutiny, craning his head back before you could make out the details of his face. Considering he relaxed as soon as you got back down, however, you assumed the reaction was a matter of personal space rather than making sure you couldn’t give a good description of him to the authorities—not that they would ever make it.

“I bought that cabin at the end a few years ago; I only come up here during the winter,” he answered once you backed off, pointing across the lake to the specific cabin. You turned to look, though you couldn’t tell the difference without your glasses, “Did something happen to the old woman living here? She was always so nice…”

“Oh, gosh, no my grandma’s fine,” you reassured your apparent neighbor quickly, relaxing slightly with the knowledge that he knew her, “she just moved back to town. She’s still healthy as a horse. Y’know, besides her eyes.”

“Oh,” he paused before adding tentatively, “are you… blind, too?”

“No!” You burst out with a snort, nearly laughing as you held up your destroyed glasses, “they broke in the fall…”

He grimaced at the sight before noticing the scrape was still bleeding when you lowered your arm, turning all business as he ushered you back up the hill towards the cabin.

“You need to get that cleaned and bandaged. Do you have a first aid kit inside?” He asked, all but sitting you down on the steps leading up to the porch like a mother hen.

“Uh- there’s rubbing alcohol in the bathroom, and I don’t think I bought any bandaids…” you said after racking your mind, realizing you never even considered what you would do if you got injured out here, in the middle of nowhere with no way for any ambulance to arrive to help you—though fortunately for you your surprise guest seemed well equipped for situations such as these.

“It’s fine, just keep putting pressure on it while I run and grab mine,” he ordered, leaving you to watch his blurry form become a blob before disappearing completely in the white of the snow. You were puzzled by the man, helpful and nice enough in his own right, if not a bit odd—your neighbor but also a complete stranger.

Rather than wait in the cold, you went into the kitchen and ripped off a bunch of paper towels and pressed them to your forehead. You also dug around a few drawers in search of glasses of any kind, managing to find some cheaters but only succeeding in giving yourself a headache when you tried them on.

With your only back up plan a resounding failure, you went back to the porch to await the man’s return—and making a mental note to ask him for his name. You grew bored as you waited, your mind coming to the conclusion that he was probably hot, despite not being able to get a good look at his face. But then you began to dwell on the fact that he had definitely seen you eat dirt with your fall—possibly even from the initial trip. By the time you finally noticed him jogging back up to you with a small bag in hand, the embarrassment gnawing at you was almost unbearable.

He didn’t seem to notice your inner turmoil, focused on unzipping the bag and taking out everything he needed before shrugging off his jacket and setting to work. Neither of you spoke as he cleaned your scrapes with wet wipes, even taking the time to clean the blood that dripped down your face before dabbing antiseptic on the scrape.

You tried not to break his focus by fidgeting around, and bit your tongue to keep the million questions darting around your mind from bursting forth. Instead, you focused on taking advantage of your close proximity to try and get a better idea of his appearance. He still kept you at arm’s length, but it also happened to be the only part of him close enough for you to see in detail.

Scars ran up the length of his arm, both gashes and apparent burns all long since healed. Your curiosity was piqued by the countless number that seemed to cover his arms, looking up until they disappeared under the hem of his shirt—and you suspected they continued underneath. Still, you didn’t want to be nosy after only just meeting him.

Eventually, your vision began to adjust slightly to seeing without the aid of your glasses, though your head was still throbbing from the shift, but you could just make out fairly large scars running up his neck and on his face—the size of which clearly would have been gaping wounds.

You finally broke the silence by offering your name as he placed the final bandage on your palm, jumping as if he’d forgotten you were even there.

“I’m Adam,” he replied once he composed himself, quickly turning from you to put everything back into the bag. It was now evident to you that he was trying to hide his appearance from you.

“Well, Adam,” you said as seriously as you could, the man in question fidgeting as he waited for you to finish, “I ought to repay you for saving my life. How about I feed you for your trouble?”

You felt triumphant seeing the faintest hint of a chuckle escape Adam, even as he stammered out assurances that it was all right and really, you shouldn’t waste rations, you were not to be dissuaded, placing a hand on his arm to stop him and pretending not to notice the way he stiffened when you brushed against the raised skin of his scars.

“Come on, I’ve got enough canned food to last me years,” you said gently, letting go of Adam’s hand to still give him the chance to walk away, “It’s not every day you find out you have a neighbor by falling flat on your face. Besides, I keep deer sausage in the freezer for special occasions. I think this fits the bill.”

After a moment’s hesitation after listening to your short spiel, Adam bobbed his head in acquiescence and you immediately bounced to your feet, leading the way inside. Both of you cracked up when Adam was forced to duck down to fit in the doorframe and awkwardly sat on your grandma’s tiny old lady couch.

“Sorry for the mess; I’m clearing out the rooms so it’s kind of a catch-all in here,” you called from the kitchen, remembering too late that trash bags and old furniture filled the living room.

“It’s fine,” Adam replied, suddenly appearing in the kitchen entrance, making you jump before letting out a sharp bark of laughter, “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you, just thought it’d be awkward talking from across the cabin… and I wanted to come help.”

“You’ve helped more than enough; you can just sit at the table,” you insisted, more excited than you thought you’d be for the company, “So, how did you meet my grandma?”

“She’s usually the only other person up here during the winters,” Adam answered, ignoring your command and walking to the sink to start cleaning your dishes. You were embarrassed to admit you let them pile up since you were alone, mortified that Adam was learning all your deep, dark secrets very quickly, “She always insisted on giving me something to drink whenever she saw me jogging. Also food. I still don’t know how she did it. Just wait out there with it until she heard me passing by? Is it the same deer sausage she used to make?”

“Yeah, it is,” you answered, chuckling at the mental image of your grandma being able to somehow sense a young person in need of nourishment in the vicinity despite being half blind. It was very on brand for her.

You fell into easy conversation with Adam as you boiled water to thaw the sausages faster, telling him about the plans for the cabin, but also trying to learn more about him as well, enjoying coaxing the shy giant out of his shell.

Adam told you that he was an editor, mostly working via email, which explained why he could stay up in the mountain all winter. Despite seeming to talk more freely with you as time went on, you were careful to steer clear of the subject of his scars, as he hadn’t brought the subject up himself. However, you did eventually figure out that it had been Adam who was stalking you for the past week whenever you were outside.

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Adam protested, the two of you sitting on the couch with your plates of food, your table completely covered with boxes, “I was just worried something bad really did happen to your grandma. And the window to approach you without it being awkward had already passed… I didn’t want to freak you out and be trapped alone together for months.”

“Oh come on, how am I supposed to be scared of a guy who’s best friends with my grandma?” You laughed, sensing that Adam was referring to his physical appearance more than anything, and the fact that seeing a stranger injured overpowered his own self-consciousness about his appearance endeared him to you already.

The more you learned about Adam, the more you wanted to know, to ask him about himself. However, he seemed to clam up whenever the conversation broached the subject of his past, so you decided it best to let it go until whenever Adam felt comfortable telling you.

So, you contented yourself to find out just how much you had in common, even learning that Adam had been the editor for some of your favorite novels of recent years. You also learned that Adam aspired to write a novel of his own someday, something he worked on out here specifically. The conversation didn’t end until long after your plates were empty and the sun slunk below the trees.

“You can’t go out in that,” you fretted as Adam put his outer layers back on, “You can get lost! Or fall in the lake!”

“I’ll be fine,” Adam insisted, the most certain you’d seen him all night, “It isn’t completely dark and I’ve got 20/20 vision.”

You were skeptical to say the least, well aware that it was all too easy to get turned around in the darkness and especially with the blanket of snow covering pretty much every discernible path. But Adam insisted that he’d be fine, so you gave in quickly so he wouldn’t lose any more light, though not before forcing him to take one of your flashlights just in case.

“I’ll come back to help you tomorrow. Don’t want you to have any more accidents,” Adam called over his shoulder, waving to you before disappearing out of reach of your porch light and limited field of view.

Just as Adam promised, he came the very next day to help you clear out the rest of the furniture from the second floor, adamant he did the heavy lifting himself—but this time you brought the sledgehammer from your grandmother’s shed to break the furniture into more manageable pieces before bringing it down the stairs.

With no one else around for miles, Adam soon became a daily presence in your life, though he never seemed to allow himself get too close to you, constantly holding himself back. But despite whatever issues drove him to seek the seclusion of the mountain, it was clear he still craved human interaction, evidenced by the fact that he was always around.

You eventually video called your grandmother so Adam could speak to her, both ecstatic to talk again after so long. She even gave him her number, insisting he come down to visit her for a ‘real meal’. It was the closest you’d been to Adam since you met, both of you crowding together to fit on your phone screen.

You also managed to call the optometrist in town to have new glasses made before your prescription expired, so you only had to drive down to pick them up once the roads cleared.

There had already been very little work you could do over the winter months, and you finished much more quickly with Adam’s help. Within a few short weeks there was nothing left to do and still had at least a month until the snow melted.

Even with the work finished, Adam still came over just as often, enjoying the company of the other in your isolation. You had a feeling that Adam needed the companionship more than he let on, if the way he opened up to you so quickly in spite of his own insecurities was any indication, and you had to admit you enjoyed his company as well. Perhaps more than was simple friendship.

Like now, Adam read out loud one of the old books you’d found while you sat next to him and listened. A sudden snow flurry forced Adam to stay the night, and while neither one of you were tired when he’d begun reading earlier, his voice was so soft and soothing you could feel yourself being lulled to sleep.

You were out cold by the time your head fell onto Adam’s shoulder, completely unaware of how you curled instinctually into his side. You also missed how he stiffened at the contact, torn between wanting to maintain his distance and not wanting to wake you, sitting completely still for hours until you shifted away from him in your sleep enough that he could extract himself.

When you stretched awake the next morning, you were covered with your thickest comforter and the smell of breakfast filled the cabin. You shuffled into bathroom to go through your morning routine before going to the kitchen, wide awake once you saw Adam at the stove.

“Pancakes? You’ve been holding out on me, Adam.” Your sudden entrance made him jump and nearly drop the spatula in the batter before he caught himself, “I’m ready to get down on my knee and beg you to marry me right now.”

“Ran to my house to get food once the snow stopped,” Adam said, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully and refusing to meet your eye, “Just thought I’d be the one to cook for once.”

You beamed at his thoughtfulness, dragging him away from the stove so the two of you could eat together. Your grandmother definitely rubbed off on him, considering he made enough pancakes to feed an army and still insisted on making more. You praised Adam’s cooking knowing the compliments flustered him, but while you teased him to see the reaction you garnered, the compliments were genuine.

In the blink of an eye, the worst of the snowfall was over and the weather warmed rapidly, the road soon completely cleared for driving. As soon as you could, you set up an appointment to pick up your glasses.

Your excitement was swiftly struck down, however, when you told Adam you would be going to town soon, jokingly telling him that you would finally get a good look at him in just a few days. He had suddenly gone quiet while you went on talking before suddenly announcing that he wasn’t feeling well and leaving abruptly.

Adam began to distance himself, claiming he could no longer come over for a while, having been sent a new manuscript to work on.

At first, you didn’t realize anything was amiss, taking at face value Adam’s explanation that he had to focus on work. You initially suspected something was wrong when he grew evasive even over text. Your suspicions were confirmed once the day arrived for you to drive into town and he wouldn’t even come see you off.

Still, you set out and put your worries aside, stopping by the optometrist’s office and then going to lunch with your parents. You ended the day at the hardware store, stocking up on paint supples and different samples to test out before beginning the long drive back up the mountain, this time determined to find out exactly what was going on with Adam.

You knocked on Adam’s door for several minutes before letting yourself in with the spare key, your multiple calls going unanswered. You were struck immediately at the pristine modern design inside, your first time actually inside Adam’s home as you couldn’t make the trek around the lake without your glasses. The place was only sparsely furnished, and there wasn’t a single personal effect in sight.

You had long since accepted your feelings for Adam, cemented in your mind after your time away that it wasn’t simply the isolation and proximity of being alone together for so long. While you had no intention of aggressively pursuing the timid Adam, you were determined to at least tell him how you felt. You suspected he felt the same, and that those feelings were the reason for his abrupt disappearance, constantly restraining and withholding happiness from himself. No matter how much progress you felt you made with him, there was always a barrier he kept up around you that you couldn’t break through.

Hanging your jacket by the door and leaving your shoes at the edge of the foyer, you walked around the staircase deeper into the first floor. You still couldn’t believe he had the nerve to describe the home as a ‘cabin’ to you. You walked in a circle into the living room, through the kitchen into the dining room before finally ending up back at the front door. Just as you were about to walk back to the stairs to try the second floor, Adam’s shocked voice choking out your name stopped you in your tracks. He sounded terrified, which in turn terrified you.

“What the hell, Adam?” You tried to make yourself laugh, but the resulting noise came out too forced, “Come on, I finally got my new glasses—”

“Wait!” Adam’s raised voice made you stop in your tracks once again, now certain his voice was coming from the top of the stairs, only the corner of the wall in your way. Still, you ignored your urge to make the final step.

“I don’t want to see you! I mean—” Adam fumbled his words and you waited patiently as he deciphered what he wanted to say, “There’s something I need to tell you. About me. But I don’t really know how you’re going to take it. And I’ve been thinking about how to say this but now you’re actually here and - I’m just blanking on everything I had planned…”

“If this is about your scars, then I know,” you interjected in Adam’s increasingly panicked ramblings in an attempt to calm him down, or at least to save him from flailing around the subject.

Adam fell silent immediately, which you took as a sign to continue talking, “I’m nearsighted, not blind, Adam. I obviously saw them when we met. I just figured you’d tell tell me about them when you were ready to. Now can you please get down here so I don’t have to keep talking to a wall?”

Before I come around this corner myself. You held that final thought back, no matter how badly you wanted to say it. You wanted Adam to be the one to make the decision, not pressuring him to reveal things he wasn’t ready to share of his own accord.

After a few brief moments, and a few creaks of the stairs later, Adam’s voice sounded closer than ever, though still just as hesitant, “the scars… they’re related but not exactly what I was going to say- it’s just not easy to explain—”

That was all you needed to hear, taking the final stride necessary to round the corner and stopping at the foot of the stairs, effectively scaring the daylights out of Adam, sitting on the steps, with you sudden appearance. Despite his shock, he remained still, though clearly uncomfortable to be so openly stared at.

In the comfort of his own home and without the need for layers of winter clothes, you could easily see the scars and more than what you saw initially. The scars—mostly old burns of varying degrees of severity that seemed to cover every inch of his skin—were more condensed on his torso, peaking out the collar of his loose-fitting shirt. The ones that caught your eye the most, however, seemed almost surgical in nature, two lines that diverged from his sternum into a y-shape along either side of his neck. Your eyes moved upward, Adam’s nose almost completely gone, what was left misshapen by one particularly long scar that cut from his temple through his nose and curved down to his jaw in a sort-of ’S’ shape.

The worst you had long since gotten used to, so there were no gasps of surprise or fainting spells from you. Your glasses did, however, showed you the full scope of what must have been horrendous injuries, almost unimaginable in their sheer volume. You were certain that they couldn’t possibly have all happened in a single event, accident or otherwise, and Adam survive it. Despite his casual dress and the indoor setting, however, the shades remained on.

But, even as you tried your damndest to focus on the very serious task and show of trust at hand, it was hard when Adam was right in front of you, your attraction to the man only reinforced the longer you looked. You wanted to assure Adam that you weren’t repulsed by his appearance as he probably expected you to be nor were you tolerant of it—far from it, in fact. But to admit that you were fawning over the skin visible through the material of his shirt, or found him incredibly attractive seemed inappropriate for the moment—and it wasn’t likely that he would believe you if you came on too strong. Adam ran his fingers through his lengthy hair, and you sensed he was quickly reaching his limit for scrutiny.

At last, you made your way to the one thing still hidden away from you: his eyes. As you got closer, Adam tensed. He had returned to the stranger you first met, reluctant to get comfortable and with his guard constantly up. Back then, you had to be the one to make the first move and invite him inside.

So, you knelt down in front of him, carefully reaching out to take off the shades, stopping when Adam’s hand touched your own, even if he didn’t exert any pressure against you.

“I need to tell you- before you see,” Adam trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, “These past few months- I haven’t felt so happy in a long time. Not since- well, I never imagined I’d get so close to you, and I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you before saying all that but I couldn’t so- these scars, I got them-”

You interrupted Adam’s rambling again by moving to sit next to him—though not by choice, your legs falling asleep from your uncomfortable position.

You recovered, however, taking Adam’s hand in your own and intertwining your fingers with his, “Adam, your scars and how you got them- you don’t have to talk about either if you aren’t ready. Even if I didn’t break my glasses, nothing that’s happened would’ve changed; I still would’ve invited you inside and tricked you into helping me clear out the cabin. You don’t have to feel obligated to explain yourself to me.”

“Thank you; I wish things were that simple,” Adam sighed, though some of the tension left his shoulders after your impromptu speech, “I got the scares in a car accident. I died back then.”

You blinked slowly, not quite understanding what Adam was getting at, “Well, I’m glad the doctors were able to bring you back, Adam—”

“I was dead for six months.”

You said nothing for a moment, at first attempting to convince yourself that he said minutes. You didn’t know what to think of the proclamation. The only thing that stopped you from immediately disregarding it was that Adam was the one saying it. And another thought wormed its way into your brain—the realization of exactly what the surgical scar on his chest reminded you of.

You reached up, hand moving past Adam’s face to the back of his ear, feeling the ridges of a scar and following the cut up to the top of his head, where you knew it would continue to the back of his other ear. You felt slightly lightheaded.

“My dad tried everything to bring me back- and he finally found something that worked,” Adam explained, taking your hand in his own and lowering it, “I’m not… entirely human- anymore.”

“Bring you back meaning like… magic? Or is it a Frankenstein-type deal?” You weren’t even aware of what you were saying anymore, words spilling out of you before Adam could even respond, “I mean, Frankenstein’s monster since, y’know, Frankenstein was—”

“I wasn’t going to correct you, but yeah, the latter,” Adam laughed drily, “except all of my body parts are from one person. Well, except my eyes. My dad never went into that much detail of what he did exactly, though.

“Wait, so your name- was that on purpose or…?” You gasped aloud as you made the connection.

“No!” Adam’s eyes widened as he shook his head emphatically, “that’s just a coincidence. A weird one, now that I think about it, but that’s always been my name.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Adam more fully, reaching up once again to gently remove his sunglasses, folding and putting them down on the stairs before looking at his face again.

Adam’s eyes had a cloudy blue haze over them, so glazed over you could hardly tell what color they might have once been underneath, much less how Adam could possibly see through them. Though, he clearly could from how they moved as he carefully studied your reaction.

“Now can I tell you what I came here to say?” You finally broke the tense silence, your voice barely above a whisper, to which Adam simply nodded, looking at you in amazement as you brushed off the earth-shattering news—reanimation was possible, the world wasn’t as it seemed, you had spent the winter with a dead man.

Inching forward slowly, giving Adam every opportunity to pull away, you gently placed both hands on each cheek and angled your face upward, just inches away from his own. You were tempted to close the gap between you, but managed to sit still.

After a short pause, Adam dipped his head down and pressed his lips against your own. He was awkward, stiff and out of practice. Taking pity on him, you decided to take the lead, prodding his lips with your tongue to get him to relax a bit. Eventually he did, melting into the kiss and even deepening it before wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you closer, as though you would suddenly slip from his grasp.

You let Adam go at his own pace, allowing him to grow used to the close contact after undoubtably going through a dry spell without any intimacy for a while. Soon, however, you were forced to break the kiss to catch your breath, Adam giving a small noise of discontent at the loss.

You realized you were practically on Adam’s lap, his arms still holding you close. Rather than return your lips to Adam’s, as he clearly wanted you to, you snaked your arms underneath his and pulled him into a tight hug, resting your chin on his shoulder. You couldn’t see his expression, but from the way he clung to you and buried his face into the crook of your neck, you knew it was perfect.

“Not to rush you, but the stairs are kind of uncomfortable,” Adam’s voice was muffled as he spoke into your shoulder, but as soon as you registered what he’d said you snorted and extracted yourself from his embrace, Adam standing after you with a lot more stretching and groaning.

Once you were both up and all joints were properly popped, Adam wrapped his arms around you once again and rested his head on your shoulder. But before you could lean back into him, he offered to go make coffee and didn’t give you a chance to respond before he vanished into the kitchen.

Exasperated that Adam’s urge to be caring had made him part from you, you decided to just wait on the couch. You were unable to keep the grin off your face for long, your mind occupied with thoughts of the kiss. It had been a while for you as well, and even longer still since you had kissed someone you cared for as much as Adam.

When he came back with two steaming mugs and sat next to you—much closer than he had during the entire time that you knew him—you decided to finally ask Adam about his past, now aware of why he couldn’t go into detail before. And once you worked up the courage to ask, it was as though a dam had burst, Adam truly seeming thrilled to tell you all about his family and childhood, his voice only getting thick with emotion as he arrived at the point of his death. He even soldiered through all your weird questions about his current state.

“So do you still eat regular food? Or were you puking immediately after eating what I made?” You set your empty mug on the table, your heart dropping at the thought of poisoning Adam, even inadvertently.

“Yes, I still eat,” Adam tried and failed to sound exasperated, “and before you ask- no I do not crave human flesh or brains or anything weird like that.”

“Are you immortal?” Was your next question.

“Well, I haven’t changed all that much since being brought back. I eat and sleep like normal. Though- I did find a gray hair the other day,” Adam mused, though upon another glance at you, seemed to ascertain your true question and adding, “But I’m definitely not rotting away- no limbs falling off or anything.”

With nothing else to interrogate Adam about for the moment, you simply began to admire Adam’s features again. Now that it had been pointed out to you and you could study him more closely, the undead aspects in his appearance were undeniable, especially with his glasses off. His chest barely moved, and you imagined it would be quite something to watch him sleep—or just sit still. And if the wounds were all incurred in a single accident—it was obvious he wouldn’t have been able to survive.

You were still unsure what the implications of it all were, if the fact that Adam was a reanimated corpse would matter to you once the initial shock of finding out wore off. As of right now, it was still an abstraction—you knew Adam was once dead, and could clearly see the evidence in front of you, but you also didn’t know the grisly details behind the process of bringing Adam back. You didn’t know if any of it mattered in how you viewed Adam.

All you knew for certain was that you liked Adam, fundamentally as your friend, and possibly as more.

“What are you thinking?”

You jumped slightly as you realized Adam was watching you stare at him, fear flashing across his eyes as he pretended the question was nonchalant.

“Just about how good-looking you are,” you recovered with a grin, a wry chuckle leaving Adam followed by a quiet ‘please.’

“What?” You scoffed indignantly, sitting up and staring Adam down sternly, daring him to try and argue with your assessment.

“Just thinking about what a great kisser you are,” Adam shot back, his wiggling eyebrows making you both burst out with laughter.

You leaned into Adam, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you and his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“I think I love you,” you had your eyes closed, nearly dozing off when Adam’s soft words snapped you back to reality.

“I think I love you, too,” you murmured in response. There was no feeling of regret once the word was out, and you decided not to overthink things while in the moment. You tilted your face up to press your lips against Adam’s jaw before moving down the column of his neck, smiling against the muscular flesh as you felt Adam’s breath hitch at the contact.

You were careful not to use your teeth—at least, not for your first time. For now, the entire purpose was to make Adam feel good, loved, worshipped.

You felt Adam’s entire body stiffen as your mouth moved along his clavicle and jolting when your hand slithered under the material of his shirt to rest on his hip, but when you pressed a kiss against one particular spot at the base of his neck he let out a strangled moan.

A fire lit within you as you became even more brazen in your actions, you tongue flicking out and sucking on the same spot and your hand moving up to Adam’s pec, your thumb swiping across his nipple. This time, Adam’s entire body shuddered and the hand that had been resting on your wast flew to your hair, his fingers twitching as though fighting the urge to hold you to that spot.

Getting onto your knees, you looked down to examine your handiwork, Adam’s head thrown back against the couch, his pants the only thing audible in the room and his eyebrows furrowed upward in a pleading expression.

Your eyes roamed downward, your arm under his shirt lifting it away from the tenting material of Adam’s sweatpants. Your hand moved from his chest down to brush over the front of Adam’s pants, his hips bucking up at the touch. You brought your hand to your mouth and licked from the base of your palm to the tips of your fingers before slipping it underneath the hem and ran it along his length.

“I don’t think I’ll last long at this rate,” Adam breathed into your ear as you gripped the base of his girth and lazily tugged upward.

You smirked at the admission, determined to see just how sensitive Adam was, pumping your hand faster and smearing his precum onto your fingers, his growing moans music to your ears.

“So sensitive,” you purred, reveling in the surprise that flashed across Adam’s eyes before pure pleasure from your attention overwhelmed him, unable to believe the words that were spilling from your mouth yourself, “When’s the last time somebody touched you like this?”

“N-never- Ah- never this good… please,” your name came out as a strangled cry as you lifted Adam’s shirt with your unoccupied hand to close your mouth over his nipple, rolling your tongue over the hardening peck.

Distracted, your other hand slowed in its movement and loosened in its grip, and Adam’s hips jerked upward in an obvious attempt to get more friction. You knew there was a very high chance that Adam would come too quickly if you weren’t careful, and you were enjoying teasing him more than you anticipated, wanting to keep him at the edge of orgasm so you could continue to hear his whines for more. His extreme reactions to your every touch made another question pop in your head.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” You asked, reluctantly parting from Adam’s chest.

“It- I’m-” Adam clammed up, which undoubtedly meant the answer was either embarrassing or so long ago he had forgotten. You would put money on the former.

Licking along the shell of his ear, you stopped your movements entirely, though you kept your grip on the base of Adam’s dick, “What did you think about while you did it?”

“Few- few days ago…” Adam cursed, your reward for the answer a small jerk of your hand.

“Mhm…?” You prompted, stopping again.

“Had to st-a-y during a blizzard and s-saw you when I went to take- take a shower and-” Adam cut off as you started moving your fist again, nipping along his jaw and murmuring praises in his ear.

You remembered the night well, whispering a reminder that Adam insisted you took the first shower and a plan ruminating in your mind while you stood under the water. When you exited the bathroom and announced that Adam could go next you went to the guest bedroom to change, leaving the door slightly ajar—easy to miss walking past—listening intently for the sound of footsteps and your heart racing when you heard them stop outside the door.

Suddenly, the muscles in Adam’s stomach tensed and he let out a choked groan. Looking down, you could see white ropes of cum spill onto his stomach, your reminiscing distracting you from your careful edging. You continued your ministrations throughout his orgasm until Adam hissed in pain, too sensitive for your touch.

Taking your hand by your wrist, Adam wiped it down the front of his shirt, a dopey smile on his face as he looked up at you. You grinned back, admiring how fucked out Adam looked from just a handjob, pulling him in for yet another kiss. Perhaps you were addicted.

“‘M sorry,” he suddenly mumbled as you pulled apart, leaning his head back and throwing an arm over his face, “I didn’t mean to take things this fast so soon.”

You chuckled pulling Adam’s arm away from his face and kissing his palm, waiting until he looked back at you, “I’m not complaining. But, if you want to take things slow from here on out…”

“Fuck, no,” Adam said immediately, sitting up slightly and his hand gripping your waist, “I have to return the favor.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s eagerness, excitement bubbling within you as well at the prospect, but it was clear he was already struggling to stay awake, and you were overcome with the urge to kiss him again, speaking after your parted once again, “We can have a round two after you take a nap.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Adam yawned, letting out a small sigh in contentment, as his eyes slowly slid closed.

“I love you, too,” you yawned as well, Adam’s sleepiness contagious.

For the moment, you were satisfied to just be there, on a couch in the arms of the man you loved, to let the rest of the world move along at its own pace. Questions of practicalities and ‘what now’s could be dealt with at another time. For now, you were finally falling asleep.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #reader insert #zombie boyfriend #adam

[notyetneedcoffee]

Got Your Number

Follow up to “Wrong Number” - but can be stand alone.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, +18, graphic smut

* * * 

You may have let out a little groan as you lowered the heavy file box to the ground, but it didn’t cover the deep, sexy hum that came from the doorway. It took effort to bite back the grin and school your features into a rye scowl. Standing up slowly, you turned with a sigh.

“You going to just stand there, or give me a hand?” One eyebrow arched.

Bucky closed the distance in three long strides, grabbing your ass cheek in a firm grip. “I’ll give you a hand.”

You shivered when he growled in your ear, voice low and just loud enough for your ears alone. Playing tough only lasted as long as he didn’t drop into that tone. He quickly learned your personal kryptonite existed within the low register of his voice, especially when laden with sinful promise and filthy words.  

He chuckled when your fingers fisted in his Henley and your head lolled back to stare into his eyes.  

“You need me?”    

“Seems to be a regular occurrence.” You sighed in mock disappointment.  

Metal fingers cupped your face, drawing you up for a kiss. His teeth nipped at your lower lip. Lifting onto your toes you fought for more contact, tongue sweeping against his mouth. He pulled back just enough to block your efforts. You whined, trying again. He smiled against your lips, but didn’t grant you the depth of kiss you desired. When he tried to pull away a third time, you grabbed two handfuls of hair, pulling him forward hard.

“Asshole.” You smiled against his lips.

Bucky growled and devoured your mouth thoroughly, wet and messy. His arms held you flush against him, lifting you to the tips of your toes. His arms did not lessen their hold even when his mouth trailed to the sensitive spot below your ear. “Any chance I could lay you across that desk and fuck you ‘til you scream?”    

“Not right now, Buck. People are working.” You laughed.

“So, later?” He pulled back enough for you to see the mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes.

He drank down your laughter in another kiss.

“You know, he has a room upstairs.” The dry voice of Tony Stark interrupted you. “I’m not putting a murphy bed in here and the cleaning crew will only do so much.”

Bucky reluctantly let you go. He almost managed to not glare at the intrusion, to which Tony only beamed all the brighter. Buck shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans to hide his cockblocked erection and leaned against your desk.  

“So, getting all moved in?” Tony picked up a photo of your mom and put it back in the box where he found it, flipped open a binder on the latest W.H.O. status report, and finally ended up unscrewing the cap to a fountain pen that had been on the desk. “Oh, nice.”

“Careful, she tends to get stabby with that one.” Bucky muttered.  

You laughed, barely believing he remembered some of the first word you ever spoke to him.  

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tony put it down. “So, seriously, is there anything you need, doc?”

“No, not now. The office is bigger that my first apartment. The lab is amazing. I’m just getting settled in right now, so,” You smiled. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” Stark grinned back. “Welcome aboard.” He stopped at the door, looking back with a smirk. “I mean it about the cleaning crew. They won’t do biological messes.”

“Piss off.” Bucky growled.

You could hear Stark as he walked down the hall, “Not the fluids I was talking about!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth ticked up. After a moment, he pulled his hands free and grabbed your hips. You leaned into him as he nuzzled your neck. “You done for the day?”

“There’s still lots to do,” you sighed. “But, yeah, it’s quitting time.”

Stark had made true to his word and called you with a job offer. Actually, he sent a currier with furniture catalogs and paint samples. Then he followed up with a phone call with the offer. Even though you knew the work you did for the CDC was important, working for Stark Industries and therefore with the Avengers could have even bigger impacts. Plus, the wages and fringe benefits couldn’t be beat.

You insisted on giving a four-week notice before coming to work for Stark in order to appropriately hand off the research project under your guidance. During that time Bucky would call you to see if you’d left the office, teasing about the long hours, promising that once you were within his reach he would make certain you never worked overtime.

Here it was your first day, and he was staying true to his word.

“You want to grab some dinner, Doll?”  

“Would we have to go anywhere?” You leaned into his chest, head resting upon his flesh shoulder. He generated so much heat. Melting into him, feeling the solidity of chest against yours, you really didn’t want to go out. You wanted the contact.  

“Just upstairs.” He breathed into your hair.

“That,” You purred, lips nipped his stubble covered jaw, “I'm all over that.”

He chuckled.  

“What?”

“Everything you say, Doll,” His voice dropped an octave, and he breathed in your ear, “just goes straight to my cock.”

You rubbed into him, feeling just how true it was. He groaned.

“Stop that,” he held your hips still. “Upstairs. Now.”

He pushed you away. You grabbed your purse and locked your office with a touch of your hand. The few people on your floor, the new team you would be working with, shot glances your way but didn’t really say much. Not everyone on staff got a personal visit from Stark. None of them got a personal escort from the Winter Soldier.  

At the elevator you caught the hard look on Bucky’s face.  

You leaned into him a little, wrapping your hands around his bicep. “No scaring the staff.”

“What?” His brows rose.

“You were giving them the eye.”

“They were staring.”

“Well, you’re hot as hell. Get over it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but a grin broke though the scowl. “You’re so full of shit.”

“They’re a bunch of researchers. They don’t go upstairs. Seeing one of you is rare, even working in the same building.” You chuckled. “They’re probably thinking I’ve slept my way into the job.”

His back went stiff, face hard. “If anyone so much as...”

“Hey,” You started but the elevator came. Pulling his royal angriness inside, you started over. “I meant they are undoubtedly wondering about the situation. It's human nature. Don’t worry. I can handle it. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I couldn’t.”

Bucky still looked murderous. “Still, if anyone dares to accuse you of anything like that...”

“Then I will be the one to rip their balls of and shove them down their throat.”

He went blank.

“I’ve been standing up for myself, especially in the professional arena, for a long time. I’m good at it. I know when to push back, and I know when to let people hang themselves.” You put your hands flat on his chest. “Buck, I appreciate you wanting to come to my defense, but in this situation you need to leave it to me. You saying anything, or Stark saying anything, will make me look weaker. Believe me.”

He covered your hands with his, “Hang themselves, huh?”

The elevator doors opened to the residential floor that you’d gotten to know so well in the last month. You turned towards Bucky’s suite. “Yep, nothing like watching an egotistical idiot fall on their face when they trip on their own bullshit. It's a thing of beauty.”

“Amen to that sister.” A voice came from the common room a few feet away. Natasha head popped over the edge of the sofa. “Hey, Y/N. How was the first day?”

“Overwhelming.” You paused. “It’s going to take a day or two to absorb everything. It’s all good though.”

“Well, welcome to the crew.” She turned back to whatever was on her laptop.

The shared kitchen was empty. You paused by the entrance but Bucky took your hand in his. Giving him a quizzical look, you followed. Upon entering his suite, you paused. A small ‘aw’ may have slipped out.

Bucky cleaned up the normal stack of books and mission papers from the table. It now held two place settings with covered plates, wine glasses, candles, and a single rose. The room smelled amazing. Dim lights and mellow old music completed the scene.  

“What is all this?”  

His strong arms wrapped around you from behind. “You seemed really interested in that fancy place Pepper was talking about last weekend. I appreciate that you know it’s not my kind of place. So I thought, I could bring some of the place to you instead.”

You looked over your shoulder in surprise.  

“I just, um, Pepper may have helped out with arranging for the delivery. I just wanted to do something special for your first day here, working, I mean.” Bucky pressed his forehead into your hair, holding you tight.  

It took effort to loosen his grip enough to let you turn around. A moment passed before his blue eyes lifted to your face. You beamed. Taking his face in your hands, you kissed him, slow, wet, full of gratitude. “You’re amazing.”

“You like it.”

“I’m going suck your dick so hard.” You smirked. He laughed. “After dinner.” You amended. He laughed harder.

The meal wrapped up with a decadent dark chocolate and white chocolate mousse. Midway through your beef bourguignon your shoes hit the corner, freeing your toes to rub on his legs. By the time you were eating the mousse, you were curled on the sofa, half in his lap and tasting the chocolate on each other’s lips.

Bucky trailed sweet, sticky, open mouth kisses down your neck. His hand massaged your inner thigh, slowly inching upward. “I want you to stay the night, Doll.”

You hummed, losing yourself to the sated feeling of a great meal, good wine, and the wonderful things Bucky did to your body. His mouth caught yours, drinking in your kiss, tongues dancing, pulling a moan from you. Shifting up to straddle his waist, you tugged at his shirt, throwing it aside to expose his power chest.

“You gonna stay?” He asked again.

“Yeah, Buck. I’ll stay tonight.” You smiled, silently wondering at his odd tone. It wasn’t unusual for you to stay the night at one or the other’s place. You’d done it plenty of times in your short six week relationship.  

“You know,” he began unbuttoning your blouse. “You can stay here whenever you want, Doll. Even if I’m not here.”

“Wha-,” You leaned back to get a better look at his face. “What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, soft eyes studying your face. His fingertips ghosted over your neck, pushed the blouse off your shoulders, and traced circles on you skin. “I’ve got to leave out tomorrow. If we don’t want the mission to get bloody it may take a while. Couple weeks. Maybe more.” His thumb traced over your bottom lip. “If you want to stay here, maybe, while I’m gone… you’re welcome to. I’ve already told FRIDAY to grant you access. You can come up anytime. Especially if you’re working late. I don’t want you having go all the way home by yourself. I mean, if you want to. It would make me feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe. There’s space. You could keep some things here.”

He was rambling. Bucky Barnes did not ramble. He couldn’t stop himself. Nerves just kept pushing words out.

You covered his lips with your finger. Excitement bubbled through your chest, but it couldn’t come out. It lodged there, stuck. You chest too tight with emotion. This man, this fiercely independent and private man, just offered you the digital equivalent to a key to his home. This sanctuary of his, he protected so vehemently that Stark wasn’t allowed surveillance. He’d even told you once Steve, his best friend, never came in without permission.  

Swallowing hard, you kissed him, pouring all the emotion you could into it. “Thank you.” You whispered.  

Bucky knew then. You understood. He smiled.  

You rolled your hips into him. “Tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah, we’ve only got,” he glanced at the clock. “Nine hours and twenty six minutes before I have to report.”

Biting his earlobe, you murmured, “Is that enough time?”

A squeal escaped your lips when he stood, hold you up. Your legs went around his waist. Still not used to his super-soldier strength, being manhandled by brought butterflies to your stomach. Bucky stalked into the bedroom, tossing you down on the mattress with a playful bounce.  

“Best hurry out of those clothes, Doll. Clock’s ticking.” He shed clothes, smiling at you with a wicked grin all the while. You didn’t quite have your pants kicked off, so he yanked them free and tossed them at the wall over his shoulder.  

Your laugh melted into something deeper as Bucky’s hands slid up your legs. His mouth ran a wet trail along your right leg. He lifted it to rest on his shoulder as he nipped his way across your inner thighs. Hot wet tongue, rough beard, along smooth sensitive skin had you soon panting. His fingers brushed against your folds, pushing you open and laying you bare for him. Slick, pink and swollen, Bucky’s eyes went dark at the sight.

First his breath washed over you, searing and feather light. The sight of his eyes looking back at you, desire blown, seared into your brain. His mouth fell upon you, lapping and rubbing, tongue heavy and soft then firm and demanding. Lips suckling at your clit until the tension pooled and moans poured from your mouth. 

He danced you right to the edge, only to pull away, kissing your thigh and stroking your body. You whined. “Fuck, that’s not fair.”

“What do you,” he ran his tongue across ultra sensitive flesh, “want?”

“I want your fingers to fuck my cunt. Uh, god. I want that gorgeous mouth on me until I come all over your face.”

Bucky growled, hips involuntarily rubbing into the mattress. He loved the dirty words that fell from your mouth. The sound of your lust filled breath drove him mad. His mouth closed over you again, he hummed with pleasure at your cry of “Oh, fucking hell, that’s it!”

Fingers pumping in you clenching cunt, mouth and tongue attacking your clit, you pulled at his hair. Words spilled from your mouth without thought. “Shit. Oh fuck. Bucky, you’re so fucking good.”  

He pulled away again.  

“No! Fucking hell, please, Bucky!”

The most sinful, wicked chuckle rumbled from his mouth across your sex just as he attacked you with enthusiasm. Vulgar slurps and lapping. Delighted moans and hums. Fingers curling and drawing at your g-spot.  

“Bucky!” You orgasm crashed into you, shaking your body, whiting out your mind, flooding Bucky’s face.  

Feeling him crawl up your body, you tried to focus. An amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Gonna live, Doll?”

“Fuck me, yes.” You smiled, but still couldn’t move.  

“Gladly,” He strong hands flipped you over, pulling your ass up to him. His cock slipped in, stretching and filling you balls deep, with one powerful thrust. “Goddamn, you feel good.”

He moaned, panting, as his pumped in to you, hands digging into your hips. Flipping hair to the side, you looked back at him, strong and powerful. His hair fell in his eyes. Mouth dropped open. He watched himself slide in and out.  

“So funking sexy,” you breathed.

Bucky’s eyes rose to meet yours, heavy and intense. He quickly flipped you over, draping your knees over his forearms and pulled your hips up to meet his. He thrust into you with strong, hard strokes. His metal thumb skimmed over your clit.  

Watching every move, every flush and quiver of your body, he memorized every erotic detail. Massaging your own tits, pulling at your nipples, he groaned. “Fuck, Doll, so beautiful. Feels so, ah, good.”  

Your hips tilted and the drag of Bucky’s cock pushed you to the edge again. He knew, watched your chest flush, felt your legs twitch. “Come for me, Doll. Ah, fuck baby, come with me.”

You did. He slammed into with a curse. Your body flooded with intensity, sensations overwhelming. Bucky fell forward and kissed you, messy and lazy.  

He nuzzled your neck. “Mmm, that’s a good start to the night.”

You laughed, not letting him pull away just yet. “You plan on fucking me into a coma?”

“Hm” He agreed, already stirring again. God bless his enhancements.

“You really don’t mind if I’m here when you’re gone?” You had to admit sleeping in a bed that smelled like him would be a wonderful thing.

“Really.” He kissed a line down your neck and across your shoulder.

“Am I going to find any weird kinky porn and sex toys?” You teased.

He laughed, taking your arms and pining you down. “Do you want to?”

You only arched a brow at him.

* * *

You phone rang making you jump. Answering it right away, “Hey.”

“Hey, back” Bucky’s smooth voice rumbled across the line. “Did I wake you?”

“No, just, um, getting ready.” You bit your lip.

“Ready for what, Doll?” You silence stretched. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I’m at your place.”

“Okay.”

“I miss you.”

“Miss you, too.” It’d been six days since he’d left. “What are you doing?”

He could hear it in your voice, you knew it. “I haven’t changed the pillow cases. They still smell like you.”

“M-hmm”

“And, I kind of stole one of your black tee shirts.”

“You wearing it now, Doll?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?” He breathed.

“No. Nothing.” Your purred.

“Okay, your in my bed, wearing just my tee shirt. You miss me. Baby, is your pussy dripping for me?”

“Yes.”  

“You touching yourself?” Bucky leaned back against the headboard in his crappy hotel, hand cupping his balls and rubbing the tip of his hardening cock. “Tell me.”

“Once I got up here, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you make me feel. You mouth on my body. Your hand on me, in me. It was so strong. I used the shower, washed myself with everything that smelled like you. The shower head wasn’t enough. I was aching. I was thinking about the time you fucked me up against the bathroom counter. I could see you, the look on your face while fucking me hard. God, Baby, I was so worked up.”

“What’d you do about it, Doll?” His hand now stroked himself more firmly.

“I, ah,” You breathed, touching yourself again despite your recent release. “I had to touch myself, had to pump my fingers into my cunt, thinking of you. I’m so wet.”

“Now?”

“Now. I laid here and thought about you. How I want to run my tongue over your abs. Want take your heavy cock in my mouth, taste you, feel your hands in my hair. Want you to fuck my mouth like you did before you left.” He panted as you spoke. “I want you to turn me over and slam your cock into me. Rough and hard, making my scream.” He growled. The fingers between your legs sped up. “Want to feel your mouth on my neck, on my tits. God, when you fucking suck my tits, my cunt just soaks.”

“Doll, when I get home, I’m going to spank your perky ass for this.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned. He’d given your as a smack, but the idea of more made you insides clench. “You going to punish me for teasing you? For telling you I’m laid out on your bed, legs open and fingers deep in my cunt. Are you, ah, going to spank me for coming without you?”

“Holy shit, Doll.” Bucky could see it. “Are you about to come, baby?”

“Yes,” You panted. “So, un, so fucking close.”

“I’m going to bend you over and fuck you hard, ah, squeeze those gorgeous tits, and play with that yummy little clit until you’re screaming. Uh, when you come, fuck, it’s, ah, amazing.” He moaned. You knew the sound. He was there. He was coming.

You moaned over the receiver as the quivered of another orgasm took over your body.

Bucky hummed into the phone. “Fuck, Doll. I was just calling to say ‘hey’ but this was so much better.”  

Laughing you rolled over, head on Bucky’s pillow, cradling the cell phone. “Anytime. You’ve got my number.”    

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Switching Sides: Part 10 (HLITF)

if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one

👉 @theshove 👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 9 is right here! Happy reading :)

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, Reference to sexual activity, Forceful nature.

~~~~~~

Several weeks had passed since I'd retaken my birth name. By then, I had dyed my hair a greyish white. Flashy, I know, but I needed something completely different from the black it was before so that I could be less recognisable. I managed to get a job at a bar as an indoor bouncer. It basically means I acted as a club-goer, surveying the floor for anything illegal going on, and escorted people out when I did catch something. The club was owned by a friend of Kanto's and he pretty much got me the job. I also worked mornings at a rock-climbing centre as an instructor of sorts. Having never really done it before, I mainly just watched over climbers and could go up to talk first-timers down if they got too scared. 

The collective jobs helped me keep up with my share of the rent, even though Juna didn't want me to pay it. Although, I would have been mortified if I stayed at my sister's apartment for free when she was starting to invest in her baby furniture. 

Because I worked most nights and most mornings, I mainly slept for a few hours in the afternoon. It was definitely a culture shock from the strict regiment the academy had us on that made us get up early in the morning and worked us into the night. Luckily, I had been able to keep up my own daily exercise.

Today was the day I decided to try and get the evidence of my father's crimes to someone in the Public Safety Division. My runs took me to the station where I tried to gather someone's daily lunchtime routine. It seemed, being the youngest, Shinonome was sent out to get coffee for the team. Which, honestly, surprised me. ‘I never expected him to serve anyone, but I guess if you're technically the rookie...’

"Juna! I'm leaving now!" I shouted from the entrance, slipping on my trainers. Soon, I heard my twin waddling toward me and I looked up. 

"Why do you always leave me alone in the afternoon?" Her eyes were full of tears due to the severe mood swings she'd been getting lately. She had gotten... pretty big over the last few weeks, which did make me nervous. If she had twins, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep living there. 

"I won't be gone long, you don't have to worry." I stepped forward with a calm smile, hugging her as my irritation skyrocketed. It felt like all she had been doing lately was cry. Kanto was at his orchestra practice in the afternoons, so I would be leaving her in her lonesome. 

"I'm handing in the evidence today. Wish me luck!" I pulled back, holding her shoulders and rubbing them to try and put her at ease. She pouted but said the words to bid me luck and I left, running in the direction of the Police Station. 

With my baseball cap on, too cloudy to be wearing sunglasses inconspicuously, I jogged along with the thick envelope rattling in my jacket pocket. It was good that I didn't have any fingerprints, it made sliding something into a detective's pocket much easier, seeing as I didn't need to worry about being identified by prints. 

Taking this time to recollect on the past month I'd been living my new life with my sister and her boyfriend, a small sigh escaped my mouth; and it wasn’t because of the panting caused by my exercise. Luckily, they didn't make me feel like a third wheel- I felt like one of the family- but my life was so boring compared to what it once was. At least the first time I started my life over, I had the excitement of living a normal life for the first time. 

However, like the novelty had worn off, I found my current life... dull. I spent my nights watching couples drunkenly make out, catching shady drug deals in the club bathroom, and stopping creeps from taking girls home without their consent. Sure, it was the same petty crimes I had been dealing with before the academy, but since I was invited to play with the big guys, I grew a taste for debunking major organisations and corrupt politicians. It felt like I was really making a difference in the world when I worked with Kaga. 

That was another thing I couldn't stop thinking about. I missed the constant complaining of my intelligence and how easy I was able to bounce back from his insults. I felt like we left things sour after I had ruined their case and essentially let Takada run free for a little longer than he should have. Because I had caused so much trouble for him in the end, I wondered if he had actually felt anything when he found out I didn't come out of that hotel. Did he care that I was dead? Was he sad? Regretful? I knew that when I believed he had died, I was heartbroken. But, maybe that was the respect I felt towards such a competent detective, and not for any underlying emotions I felt to the man I had grown to somewhat understand?

Turning the corner to the busy city street, I peered up at the massive building across the road. It was cloudy: autumn turning to winter, some stores even had Christmas decorations, and a slightly chilled breeze blew through the air. Lots of people wore masks to shield their faces from the city air and the cold that tried to nip at their nose. 

Taking a quick deep breath to calm my racing heart, I continued to cross the street, waiting near the Station's entrance for the youngest detective to ever make it into the Public Safety Division. 

Minutes passed and I worried today might be one of the days Shinonome was at the academy or out on a mission. I looked down at my watch as the seconds ticked by, hoping he would emerge soon. 

When I looked up again, I froze at what I saw. Materialising from the doors of the Police Department was Captain Hyogo Kaga. 

Quickly, I diverted my gaze, worried he would be able to sense my surprise. Hopefully, the rim of my cap would block my most noticeable features. 

‘Snap out of it, Katsumi. You don't need to be worrying about that now.’ I sighed to myself, shaking my nerves out of my head and stepping forward to intercept the detective as he walked in my direction. 

"'Cuse me," I muttered as I bumped into him, slipping the thick beige letter out of my pocket and into his suit one. I kept my gaze down and quickly moved on, not wanting to give him a chance to shout at me. 

Escaping around the corner of the building, I took in a deep breath that I didn't realise I was holding in. ‘I did it. It's all in their hands now.’

Trying to calm my racing heart, I allowed myself to take a peek around the corner to see if he had noticed what I had delivered to him. In the middle of the pathway, Detective Kaga looked at the object in his hand, having taken it out of his inner pocket. I cringed slightly; I had hoped to have a little more time to get away before he realised. 

‘At least he has it. Hopefully, he'll take it seriously.’ Biting the tip of my thumb, I continued down the alleyway between the station and the next building, disappearing before Kaga could think to follow me. 

~~~~~~

That night, I'm sitting at the bar of the club I worked at, a glass of water in my hand as I let my gaze fall around the room. 

"Tonight seems pretty quiet. You haven't moved from that seat since you got here." The bartender, who I had grown to befriend, laughed from across the counter. 

"Noburu, don't say that word! Do you know how unlucky that is?" I instantly freaked out, standing up on the foot rest of the minimalist stool to get my urgent point across. 

"What word..? Quiet?" He leaned in to whisper it to me and I hastily covered his mouth. 

"You'll jinx me!" I frowned, not wanting to have to get up much tonight. It being the middle of the week, the room was pretty calm, but I wasn't going to ignore superstition. 

"You're so cute when you pout, Katsumi." Once I had uncovered the man's mouth, he pressed a finger into my cheek and I scowled at him. Even though my white hair was in pigtails, something Juna had been obsessing over at the time, I didn't appreciate that compliment. 

"I'm a grown woman!" I narrowed my eyes at him before turning back to the room behind me.

~~~~~~

Later on in the evening, the door to the club opened again and I glanced at the new entrants... 

‘This can't be happening.’ My mouth opened agape when I saw three of the special instructor's enter the club in suits like they had just come from the office. 

"I told you you would jinx me," I muttered under my breath, blaming my friend for the detectives being here. Luckily, he was at the other end of the bar taking orders from a group of bachelorette party girls. 

‘Okay, hopefully, they won't recognise me as the name I came up with? What was it again?’ I quizzed my memory, trying to think back to a month ago. 

Trying to calm my racing heart by taking a long, deep breath, my gaze fell to the other end of the bar. I noticed a man, standing suspiciously close to one of the party-goers. His back was to me, but I could see his hand reach for one of the women's drinks and drop something into it when he thought no one was looking. I sighed, hopping off my stool and walking up to him before he could move away from the scene. 

"Please come with me, sir." I smiled so he wouldn't panic, but didn't ease the grip I had on his arm that was thicker than I could wrap around. 

"Sorry, I'm not looking for a hookup tonight." He smirked down at me and I felt myself gag slightly. 

"I need you to come with me, sir." I moved my other hand to the drink left on the counter and placed it on Noburu's side so someone didn't drink it while I was trying to deal with this creep. 

"I said no." He frowned, trying to yank his arm out of my grip. 

Quickly, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the counter while holding his arm behind his back, taking him by surprise while the thudding noise drew minimal attention.

"I just watched you try and drug that girl. So, if you want me to call the cops, I dare you to fight back." I whispered into his ear. Luckily, the music was too distracting and loud for our customers to realise. It was only Noburu looking at us from the corner of his eye. I watched the predator's face turn worried and he shook his head. 

"Great, come with me then." I smiled, pulling him up by the neck, and guiding him towards the door. 

"Noburu, can you get that girl another drink? I'll pay." Not wanting to ruin their night, I called out to my friend as we walked through the door. My boss paid me to be as discreet as possible. I would get paid extra if I caught a crime before we needed to call the police.

~~~~~~

After throwing the man on the dirty street and warning him to never come back to this club, I reentered the room. 

"Another creep?" Noburu leaned over the counter to talk in a low tone. I nodded, retaking my seat and ordering another water. Although, it wasn’t like I had to pay for it.

"I don't see how it can be so easy to buy that stuff?" My bartending friend frowned, pouring my drink and placing it on a napkin. 

"Depends. Some stuff is prescription medicine. I think the ingredients for others can be easily bought and then made into drugs?" I thought back to when I found my father's organisation and all the illegal substances they were able to mass distribute. 

Suddenly, a man stood beside me at the bar, ordering drinks for three people. My eyes widened when I heard the voice, recognising it anywhere. We sat in silence while the bartender fixed his drinks. 

"That was a pretty smooth takedown. Looks like you've done it a few times." Suddenly, Lieutenant Ayumu Shinonome started conversing with me, leaning on the counter as he looked right in my eyes. I gulped my water, praying he hadn't noticed me and continued looking at the array of bottles on the back wall. 

"It's my job, so I get pretty good at it." Sounding a little more sarcastic than seemed polite, I questioned why I was being so rude. I would never have spoken to any of the instructors like this in the academy. 

‘Well... I guess I'm not in the academy anymore.’ I could feel myself becoming more depressed as I thought back to my old life, looking down at the contents of my glass. 

"What do you do for a living?" Not sensing my negative emotions, the detective kept talking. Well, he probably did, but didn’t care.

"I'm a bouncer. Like a bar cop, am I right?" I laughed self-depressingly as I took another sip of my non-alcoholic drink. I didn't drink much, I didn't like it and I didn't have time for it, but even this felt depressing, drinking water when everyone else was getting off their heads drunk. "Nothing to your cases, though, I'm sure."

"How do you..?" 

"There's a type." I suddenly cut him off bluntly, embarrassed I had started a conversation when I was meant to be under the radar. 

‘You're not meant to know who he is, Katsu. Don't get comfortable just because you know this place.’ Clutching the glass with both hands now, I ended the conversation with a dismissive sigh, not wanting him to have an excuse to keep talking to me when Noburu finished making his drinks. 

Which seemed to be taking much longer than he usually did. I looked down the length of the counter to find the bachelorette party had called him away again. As I peered, Ayumu being in that direction, I tried to look down at his body as inconspicuously as possible. I wanted to know if he was wearing a badge. Which he wasn't.

‘Are they on a case? This is a nice neighbourhood, there isn't a lot of major crime here. Unless they've set up a meeting?’ My brows furrowed as I thought of a reason for them to be here. The club itself wasn't anywhere near the station or the academy, I made sure of it when I took the job. 

"Sorry about that, man..." Noburu came running back, but led off when he realised the intensity between us. I‘m sure it was either because I dismissed him as a woman or he distrusted me. When Shinonome asked for the drinks again, the silence was almost suffocating. I was pulled out of my thoughts when he finally left and turned back to the room to do a quick sweep of anyone suspicious. 

"Hey, Noburu. How long has that guy been here for?" Standing on the foot stand of my stool again, I leant over the counter to keep our conversation private. Following where I had gestured with my head, Noburu found the suspicious man I had been watching for most of the night. He had been here since opening, circling the floor like he was looking for a target. He seemed a little on-edge to me, but I wanted to make sure before I acted on anything. Truthfully, I just wanted to get away from talking about the confrontation he had just walked into. I knew he would ask, that's how Noburu was. Pried because he cared.

"Anyone wearing a hat indoors is suspicious." The bartender laughed as he started shining some glasses. "Make a move on him. If he's here for anything else, he'll turn you down." Resting on his crossed arms in front of me, he got very close to my face as we talked. I was a little stunned by the sudden close proximity. 

Working at a bar, Noburu was good at flirting with our female customers to keep them drinking. He was good looking and funny. It made for an easy friendship to bloom. But, having his face so close to mine, I blushed and quickly leaned back. 

"I-I'll go do that then," Noburu smirked at my fluster, resting his chin on his hand as I moved towards the dance floor.

Working somewhat undercover, I was wearing a rather short, tight dress, as asked by my boss as a form of uniform. At first, it was embarrassing to wear something that cupped my body so much, but now I was somewhat comfortable with it. I'm just glad I had a good physique. 

Also, since working here, I had to get good at sweet-talking people. Mostly drunks that were more than happy to follow anyone, but I had my fair share of flirty conversations to try and get people out of the club. Fortunately, I was a fast learner.

Approaching the man with the hat, I smiled. 

"Hey, you wanna dance with me?" I put my hand on his chest and grabbed his hand with my other, trying to get him to feel like he couldn't say no. 

"I-I'm meeting someone." I peered up at his young face, previously hidden by the brim of his cap, and noticed a slight blush on his cheeks. 

"Aw, come on! I've been watching you all evening and you haven't talked to anyone! It doesn't have to be a long dance?" I pulled on his hand to bring him to the dance floor. Maybe he was just waiting for a girl, which would explain his hesitance. But... Something was off about him, and it wasn't just the hat. 

Luckily, he followed me and we started moving our bodies close together. 

"So, are you gonna tell me your name?" I shout near his ear due to the volume of the music. He bit his lip but told me anyway. 

"Are you the one I'm meant to meet?" Suddenly, he put his hands on my hips, whispering in my ear. As his gaze wasn't on me, I let my eyes slightly widen.

‘Is this the guy they're meeting?’

"Did a psychic tell you to meet a girl here tonight?" I laughed back, playing dumb to see if he freaked out. He ripped his hands from my body, face flushed as he stared at me. 

"I don't mind the pickup line, but you don't have to be so embarrassed." Knowing he was going to scurry off out of embarrassment or fear of not meeting the person he was here to see, I tried to lighten the atmosphere. Panicking, he quickly excused himself and I watched him leave the club completely. Frowning my brows, I returned to the bar, reporting to Noburu what I had just seen.

~~~~~~

At the end of the night, which was the morning, I'm helping Noburu clean up the bar.

"Hey, are you doing alright? You seemed kind of on edge when that guy ordered. The one that stood next to you?" Noburu called from the other side of the room as I wiped down a table. I froze for a moment, not realising I had been that obviously affronted, and thought about how to respond. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine! It's just not usually the guys that come up to me." I laughed off my unease by making a self-deprecating joke and returned to the bar, where my handbag laid. 

"I can't imagine that's true. Look at you." He smirked down at my body and I tried my hardest to hide my blush. 

"Oh, would you look at the time! I've gotta get going." I grabbed my bag as he approached me, getting nervous about the teasing that I knew was to come. He would usually offer a flirty comment as we cleaned up together, it was probably the only way he could talk to women. I should have been used to it by that point, but I still got flustered. 

As he followed me out of the building, I waved my goodbye. 

"Hold on!" He called back after locking the doors. I turned around to find him scrambling to get the keys in his pocket and I laughed at how eager he was. "How about we meet up outside of work sometime? I can buy you breakfast?" His request threw me off a little, I wasn't used to making friends this quickly, or being asked out to eat with a dude.

"I-I have a job I have to get to in the morning. I'm always free for lunch though!" At the chance of having someone to hang out with other than third-wheeling my sister, I smiled brightly. He chuckled at my reaction. 

"Great. Can I pick you up today?" He put his hand on the back of his neck as he asked. He almost seemed... nervous? 

"S-Sure. I would like that." I also grew shy as our conversation grew to a close. 

Suddenly, he moved towards me and planted a kiss on my cheek. 

"You should probably get going." He raised a teasing eyebrow at my childish, extremely bashful reaction and I jumped to attention. 

"R-Right! I'll see you later! I'll text you the address!" Having gotten his number in the first few days I started working at the club, I ran in the opposite direction of the club and towards the rock climbing establishment I worked at in the mornings. I was so excited, I didn't notice the car full of men parked across the road from us. 

~~~~~~

My shift was short, thanks to my lightened heart and the busy work of teaching people how to put on their harnesses. I didn't have to actually climb much, thankfully, because I wasn't so fond of getting sweaty before my... meeting?

As I changed out of my gym wear, a female coworker announced that my sister was at the front desk. 

‘Oh, she did not come for lunch!’ I cried to myself, annoyed I would probably have to pass on my date for a pregnant woman. I changed quickly so that I could encourage her to leave before Noburu got here and was shocked by what I heard before I turned the corner to the reception. 

"How dare you talk of her that way?" My sister shrieked at the top of her lungs, rage making her voice sound rougher than usual.

"It's not my fault she made a moronic mistake," Kaga responded spitefully. Juna was screaming at my ex-instructor. 

"She saved your life and that's how you treat her? You should be ashamed to call yourself a detective!" I wouldn't have been surprised if Juna started attacking the man. Soon I heard Soma trying to calm her down, but it didn't help much. 

"Oh, Katsumi! These men are here to see you." The receptionist who had witnessed the whole affair spotted me hiding behind the wall and hurriedly encouraged me over and I sneered when she made me apparent. The memory of biting Shinonome's head off floated through my mind and I prayed he didn't tell the two detectives that hadn't been in the club last night.

I sighed and walked around to see my sister standing in front of two of my old instructors. Soma's eyes went wide as his gaze passed between me and my sister. I bit my lip, wondering why they were standing in front of me in that moment, hoping they didn't approach Juna like they had met. Because, technically, they had. Well, they've met the woman that held her legal name, Mikara Harada- which wasn't Kento's last name so I didn't know why he insisted on acting like we were married. I wasn't even sure if she knew their faces or names. 

"Can I help you, gentleman?" Trying to act unaware, I approached them, letting my gaze drop to see if they had their badges on. This time, the Public Safety Detectives did. 

"We'd like to take you in for questioning," Kaga explained sharply and Juna was about to retort. ‘What are they thinking?’

"Mikara, go take a seat. You don't want to mess up the baby." I pat her shoulder and showed her a smile even though I was freaking out on the inside, ensuring she heard me use her fake name so she understood the situation. I gestured to the seating area and spotted an open newspaper with the story of the hotel bombing inside. From what I could assume, she was probably talking to the receptionist when the detectives arrived. Kaga probably mentioned how stupid I was to go in after him and Juna blew a fuze. 

Reluctantly, Juna went to sit down. 

"Please, come with us." Soma smiled, placing a hand on my back to guide me out of the building. 

"Why can't we do it here?" I panicked, not wanting to be brought in for questioning by PSD Detectives. There was no way they could track me from the security cameras at the station. Had I thwarted their investigation last night and now they were trying to get back at me? 

"Would you rather get arrested for impeding an investigation?" Kaga pulled out his handcuffs and my eyes grew wide. 

"No! No, thank you. I'll come with you." Allowing myself to be guided to their car, I threw my sister a look to say I would be fine- her face screwed up in worry and confusion. 

~~~~~~

After being placed into the back of their car and escorted to the questioning booths in the station, my hands were beyond clammy. My gaze darted around the silent room, having been left alone, probably just to intimidate me. They had taken my bag to search through it, which had my clothes from last night and my gym clothes. It didn't take me long to get impatient. 

Suddenly, the door burst open and I saw Kaga come in. I sat up, trying to look eager to answer any questions they had. I didn't want to seem suspicious. 

"Katsumi Hoshino." He sat across from me and I nodded, too afraid to stumble over my words. They had either seen the passport in my bag or had called my employer. Because I didn't have a driver's licence, my passport was the only way I could be identified. I brought it with me everywhere in case something happened to me. The last time I was stuck in an interrogation room with the Captain flashed through my mind and I tried not to blush. 

"I want to apologise for my friend. She can get a little too righteous sometimes." I flashed a smile, but he didn't seem impressed at all. It would be way too strange that we were triplets with the same face. I just hoped her makeup made it seem like there was some sort of differentiation in our features. Hopefully Kaga would buy that we were friends.

We sat in silence for a little longer. 

"Can I get some water?" Feeling my throat dry up, I tried to get him out of the room. He was making me so nervous with the way he was evaluating me with his gaze, I thought I was back in the academy. 

At my question, the captain got up and walked around the table. Before I could react, he pushed the back of my chair against the wall so the two front legs were in the air. I yelp in surprise as he closed the distance between us. I gulped, not wanting to say anything more in case it was incriminating. 

"You have something of mine." His finger hooked the neck of my shirt, but his gaze was too piercing to look away from. I showed him a confused expression to show I had no idea what he was talking about. 

"You work at that club. You met that man. And he gave you something that belongs to me." His voice was low so that only I could hear it. I forced myself not to sigh in relief when I discovered I wasn’t here for alternative reasons. 

"I-I thought you looked familiar." I smiled despite myself and he frowned. "U-Um, well, the guy left before I could find out why he was there. I thought he was suspicious, but he bolted the second I approached him." I explained in a whisper, worrying about the distance between us and my suspended chair. If he relaxed his grip in any way, I would go flying into his face. 

Suddenly, his other hand reached around my body and crawled up under my top to the clasp of my bra. 

"H-Hang on! What're you doing?" I panicked, my face flushing red as he fiddled with my clothes. When he had satisfied whatever need he had, he pulled his hand out again. There, he held a USB drive. My brows frowned in confusion and my hand darts to where he had pulled it out of. Had it really been there all this time?

"How much of a moron do you have to be to not notice this?" Kaga chuckled at the minuscule device in between his fingertips. It was one of those high-tech ones that are about the size of a fingernail. Honestly, it wasn’t a surprise to me that I didn't realise it at first because I had been so busy.

"I-Is that all you need from me?" I stuttered out, now with all of my chair's legs back on the ground. 

"What are you talking about? You assisted in stealing millions of dollars worth of online currency." Kaga turned to me, his face stern. My expression dropped and my face turned pale. 

"What? I had no idea what that was, or who that guy was! There's no way I can get arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!" I roared at him, truly afraid he would arrest me for something like this. Who knows what'll be uncovered if I got put in jail? Juna would be alone. The amount of my father's guys that could get to me? I'd be dead in days.

The next thing I know, he's laughing. My enraged expression fell as to one of understanding. He was teasing me. I huffed, crossing my arms as I was embarrassed I had been duped. 

"We'll have to take your fingerprints to log the evidence. Then you can leave." His expression froze over again and I jumped up at the opportunity to leave. 

"Lead the way!" I cheered out, maybe too loud, and he scowled. I quickly apologised for being too excitable and followed him up to the Public Safety offices.

~~~~~~

Inside, I let my eyes wander around the room. It was exactly how I remembered it. Files placed carelessly on some desks and stacked neatly on others. Every man in there wore stern expressions, faces withered by stress and or smoking. Soon enough, I spotted a pile of paper on the desk not far from me. 

‘The pictures!’ I gasped as I spotted the gruesome images of murders and tortures I had taken during my youth spread all over each desk, replicas made for reference. I watched as some of the detectives analyse the faces within them, possibly trying to identify who they were from the refined images. 

"Miss, please put your fingers on here." Soma approached me with a pad of ink and a file with my birth name on it. 

"I... Um, I can't do that." I smiled anxiously as I rubbed the back of my neck. Soma furrowed his brows, asking me why. I could tell even he was a little annoyed with me. 

"I don't have fingerprints. They, er... I had a cooking incident a few years ago." I quickly thought up a lie, not wanting to disclose the true reason, for obvious reasons. Soma looked down at my hands, contemplating what to do. 

"We still need a record." Ayumu appeared out of nowhere beside me and I jumped, clamping my mouth shut so I didn't yell out at him as I sometimes had in the past. 

Surprisingly, the two seemed astonished when my fingerprints came up as big black dots. There were no clear lines or lighter edges. Just ten black splodges on the page. Ayumu asked me again how I had no fingerprints. 

"I was a kid. I... dropped my toy in a bat of hot oil and burned my hands." I shrugged while explaining some part of the truth. I was a child when it happened. I did dip my hands in boiling oil. Just not voluntarily.

Soon after, I was allowed to leave without many other questions. Before I was kicked out, I stole another glance at the evidence on the tables. My shoddy excuse for a reverse pickpocket had been successful and they had what they needed to arrest the men in my father's gang, whether he was still alive or not. A small smile crossed my face as I thought that. 

~~~~~~

As I emerged from the spinning doors, I spotted Juna and Kanto standing by a taxi. Running over, I quickly asked what they thought they were doing here. 

"We came to free you! With the way that guy spoke about you, I thought you'd never get out!" Juna frowned as she hugged me, her largening belly pushing into mine. 

"Luckily it was an entirely different matter. But, we should go. Who knows what their security cams can do." I looked up at the ball of black on the station walls, worried about what being here without a disguise could mean for my safety.

#HLITF #hlitf kaga #hlitf soma #hlitf goto #hlitf ishigami #hlitf ayumu #hlitf shinonome #hlitf fanfic #voltage games #voltage fanfic #oc #ooc #her love in the force #crime #mafia #mob #police #detectives

[animalsatwildlilac]

Power Outage with Bearded Dragon

This beardie has a job. His name is Stripy, and he is a working lizard. His life is full of adventure at Wild Lilac preschool. But he does get weekends off, vacations, and even mental health days, just like me. I think he is lonely when we are not together.

On Thursday, when WL announced an early release because of the winter storm warning, I got the whole day off because I only teach in the afternoons. But I still needed to go in, briefly -- to tend to the animals before the roads got messy.

On the way there, I stopped for supplies at my local pet store, Tropical Hut. I bought 100 crickets and a package of frozen bloodworms.

When I parked in front of the school, rain was falling and the temperature was dropping. Masked parents were picking up their unmasked kids. I left 50 of the crickets in my car with plans to take them home for Stripy, my bearded dragon, and then I went to the animal room.

I fed and tucked our critters in –

Two cubes of bloodworms for the Axolotl;

Cucumber and carrots for the just-hatched baby snails;

Fresh pinecones and toilet paper rolls for the gerbils;

Hay for the new-found guinea pigs (see previous post);

Crickets in with the animals that eat crickets: the tarantula, the geckos, and the cane toad;

And food for the crickets themselves (some apple, some dog food);

The Madagascan Hissing cockroaches still had food;

The walking sticks are all out of bramble – I’m sorry, but they will be okay for a few days without food.

I headed home.

As I brought the deli container of crickets into my house (they had been in my car for about 45 minutes) I realized something was tragically wrong -- all 50 of them were on their backs, heels to heaven. My first though was carbon monoxide.  How could they all have DIED in such a short time? Then I realized maybe they weren’t dead – they were cold! Or did they freeze to death? It just hadn’t been that long. Such drama! I set them on a table and watched them, and as they warmed, they started to move. First a leg twitched, then another, then one flipped over. I was thinking how cool is this! Definitely something to explore with the kids – the freezing and warming of crickets.

And then, as I was deep in contemplation watching the flipping crickets, it’s 3 in the afternoon and -- the power goes out! There was no accumulation of ice or snow. The storm had hardly started. PGE said the power would be back on at 5pm. But at 5, they said 6, and at 6, it was 8.

When the temperature in Stripy’s tank dropped to 65 degrees, I had lifted him out and put him on my chest, zipped up a fleece vest over him, and put a fuzzy blanket around my shoulders.

My husband ventured out into the cold night to find a restaurant with power. He arrived home with salted peppered cod and garlic broccoli and kung pao shrimp from Powell Seafood, and the news that there were now 100,000 people without power in the greater Portland area.

At 8:03 our lights came on! Stripy was glad to get into his warm tank and eat some crickets. The humans were glad to catch up on what we had missed electronically in the past five hours.

Stripy poops biweekly, and does so in a predictable way – pretty much every time I put him in the bathtub; warm water brings it on for him like coffee does for me.

His poop in interesting. Part of it is white and rubbery, part of it loose and greenish brown.

At 2 in the morning my partner woke me. The power is off again, he says. PGE says the cause is under investigation and there is no estimated time for the power to return. In my Ambien induced slumber, I mumbled, “Please … bring me Stripy…”.

Stripy settled on my chest and closed his eyes. He clung to my nightie like a bur on a wool sweater, both of us covered with the duvet. Our dogs are not happy about Stripy joining us in the bed, and they move as close to my head as they can.

My partner kept checking on Stripy, to make sure he was staying on me, not straying into the sheets. But he needn’t worried. Why would this lizard leave the best heat source in the house -- a woman going through a menopausal transition?

Flanked by dogs, a lizard, and my partner who at this point in the pandemic has not just a beard, but a full wizard’s beard, we sleep. But not well. Our thermostat now says 54 degrees. I am worried about the crickets -- they are no longer chirping. but I am not going to snuggle them.

It is windy. My neighbor's roof is covered with snow and smoke is coming out of her chimney. Branches come down from the weight of ice. A car explodes and burns when a power line falls on it. All over Portland, people are lighting candles and caressing their reptiles, trying to keep them warm.

Stripy has two tanks – one at school, and one at home. His at-school tank is what I think of as his studio apartment; it’s furnished with a doll’s bed covered with a patchwork quilt, a hammock, a tiny ceramic toilet, and a small, hard copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. At home, he has a “desert” tank where I’ve built him tunnels and hillocks out of excavator sand.

In the summer, at the end of the day, he likes to join my family on the patio. We have cheese and crackers and glasses of chardonnay, and Stripy gets his own glass platter of mealworms. Yes, I know the mealworms are fatty and are supposed to be a treat, not a regular staple, which is why I’ve been trying to transition him to crickets. I want Stripy to chase crickets like how the beardie in the YouTube video chases blueberries, but he doesn’t.

I believe he doesn’t chase his food because he doesn’t have to.

He waits until a cricket crawls up on his hillock and then -- a quick snap nom nom nom -- he chomps on them. A drop of cricket juice spatters from his mouth.

But I know he still has his instincts, because I have watched him shoot across the patio to catch and eat a bee.

At school, the kids touch Stripy with one finger, and they know not to pet his head. Heads are personal spaces, and plus, that third eye! The first time I saw his third eye, I thought a child had drawn on him with marker.

When not roaming about the animal room, or sunning himself under a UV light, Stripy is carried in a woven sea grass basket filled with silks. He has castles built for him out of Magnatiles. The children pick fresh arugula for him from the garden and hand feed it to him. They sketch pictures of him that are pinned to the wall. The kids love him. They tell him this on a daily basis. They don’t imbue him with meaning, they just recognize him as sentient being.

The kids marvel at how his spikes look so sharp but are actually soft. They touch him and talk about his textures and colors, the orange rings encircling his eyes, his soft belly, his pointy tail. We watch his torso expand as he sighs, relaxing into his body.

What are those holes in the sides of his head?

What do you think they are?

Can he hear me? Why aren’t his ears on the outside like mine?

Will he lick me?

He might.

Why did he lick me!

He is tasting you. He’s finding out who you are.

This bearded dragon, does he know how to fly?

Not yet.

Well, his mommy needs to teach him!

I ask him questions in front of the kids … Stripy, do you want some dandelion greens? Oh, you do!  Oh, Stripy, I can see you don’t want to be held right now. You want to move across the floor on your own!

I regularly give animacy to inanimate objects, too.

What is he saying now, Teacher Nikki?

What do you think he is saying?

Caring for animals helps us to build compassion. I want the kids to know that the animals are communicating with us, we just have to listen.

Sometimes, on my way home from work when I stop at Trader Joes, Stripy tells me that he doesn’t want to be left alone in the car, so I set him on my shoulder and he lies very still (but is supremely alert and watches everything) as I walk around the frozen foods and the wine aisles. Kids always notice him and want to connect. The crew usually notice him, too, and greet him with a wink. My sister, who likes animals but doesn’t have any, when I tell her about my experiences in Trader Joes with Stripy, says “Oh, Nik-Nac, you’ve become one of those people.”

And yes, I guess I have, it’s true. I have become that lady with the bearded dragon.

No, we are not supposed to have a lizard in a preschool -- because of the salmonella risk. However, I believe that risk is an inherent and natural consequence of childhood. Our preschoolers take turns on a broken seesaw that was homemade to begin with. They build with crates and cardboard boxes we scavenge from the furniture store on the corner. There is sometimes a sprinkling of nails in our sandbox. We have earthquakes here, and floods, and ice-storms.  Our children breathe harmful air from wildfires. We have lockdown drills to prepare us for potential active shooters in our schools – a little salmonella isn’t going to shut things down for us!

In my more than 30 years of teaching with animals, I have probably exposed thousands of children to salmonella. It will be okay. For those of you who are still worried, let me tell you a little story.

I hosted a special COVID sleepover for some school-age kids recently (the kids were all from the same pod) and when it was discovered that one child had forgotten to bring a tooth brush, I said, “that’s okay, just borrow someone’s toothpaste and brush with your finger.” I mimed a demonstration and all the kids made faces of disgust. “I would never brush my teeth with my finger,” I heard. “I put my fingers in my butt too much!”

We do wash our hands as often as possible.

[sugarfreecapsicle]

neighborly -1/2

moodboard by the one and only @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan 

moodboard by the lovely @ohcaptainmystan

this is part one of two in a little story I came up with for @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge! hope you enjoy. part 2 this week!!

NeighborAU

Glass shatters, jarring you from your too vivid dream involving cotton sheets with impossibly high thread count and distinct male perfection settling over you with a sheen of sweat painted over his body. Heart pounding and head throbbing from the immediate barking of your dog has your body flopping back to the mattress and pillow with heaving breaths. Count to ten before you react. Think of a third party perspective. Don’t do anything rash.

But it’s the third time in as many days, and a working woman can only take so much before she has to write a strongly worded note to a noisy, inconsiderate, low-life neighbor for blatant disregard for anyone else’s existence on their complex floor. You kick at the sheet that’s wrapped itself around your foot as you stumble out of bed and slam your hand onto the bedside table in search of a pen and paper.

Hours later, Bucky’s head is swimming with white noise and regret. He never should have listened when Natasha begged him to watch the cat while she went out of the country. The menace ruined his blackout curtains, puked all over his bathroom and living room rugs, clawed the feet and legs of all his wooden furniture and had all but eaten the lining underneath his couch. No space in his home was safe, no corner left undisturbed by the svelte feline. 

Steve had even created what briefly had been titled the “Vlad-you-little-shit” jar to which anyone must contribute money when complaining about the cat. Bucky alone could have fully funded Natasha trip abroad with the funds earned over the weekend. 

With breakfast out of the way, he skirted out of his own door and nearly slammed his own toe in the door to shoo the cat away from his desperate escape. His keys jingled in his thick cotton pocket, lounge pants adorned with sheet music from West Side Story. The plastic wrapped newspaper sat in a lump by the welcome mat, but a new addition in bright neon pink stuck to the grungy plastic.

Noisy Neighbor,

Maybe you’re new to the complex, but tenants here appreciate peace and quiet at 2 AM when everyone else is asleep except night shift nursing staff and your goddamned hellian of a pet. Unless your guest is celebrating a beautiful marriage every night, please cease and desist all glass breaking, radio playing and anything louder than a Boeing 747 taking off from La Guardia.

Sincerely, 

Awake Acquaintance

Bucky shook his head and grimaced. Solving this riddle required waffles, bacon, coffee and maybe third party consultation. 

Your entire day at work passed by at the pace of molasses in the dead of winter.

In Antarctica.

Dragging your heeled feet up the stairs of your Brooklyn apartment seemed to be enough cardio for one day after your restless night of soothing Beau’s response to your neighbor’s continuous noise during the worst hours of the night. Four days in and it was becoming almost impossible to remember when you had more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep. 

On your door perched a stark blue sticky note.

Annoying Acquaintance,

Don’t believe we’ve met, and doubt I’d like to given your own howling alarm can’t help but wake up the entire floor in the span of five seconds of his singing. He’s very off key and really should consider keeping his day job - especially since he is far less likely to piss off surrounding neighbors like myself who value their sleep. 

Signed,

Not-So Noisy Neighbor

The note crumples in your hand as you barge through your own door, Beau’s claws skittering around the corner with a wiggling butt in tow. A happy grin and lolling tongue make it impossible for you to even consider being upset with him. No, this was Noisy Neighbor’s fault entirely for permitting drunken bar fights to happen in his apartment. 

Seething over your reheated leftovers from Pietro’s Pies, you peer down at Beau who eagerly chows down on his bowl of grain-free dry food mixed with roasted turkey breast leftover from your sister’s potluck. 

“Don’t follow my example, buddy,” you murmur through a cheesy bite of pizza, “you keep eating healthy so you can bite the neighbor’s sorry ankles.”

He pays you no mind as you glare at the note rumpled on the counter. If it was war this stubborn, pigheaded snob wanted, fine. You could manage that.

Steve’s rigorous 5 AM training routine couldn’t be followed on barely three hours sleep, and Bucky knew better than to try to keep up mentally in conversation as the two jogged together through the park. The metal prosthetic tugged at his shoulder as he pumped his arms in tandem, strides and pace matching his blond friend. 

“You didn’t hear a single thing I just said, did you?”

The pair slowed to a stop, Bucky leaning over to rest his hands on his knees. “Over the fake hangover I have? Not a word.”

Steve chuckled and rested his hands on his hips. “The cat hates you.”

Bucky nods in defeat. “Feeling’s mutual.”

“It’s just a cat, Buck-”

“Like hell it is,” he snaps, pointedly eyeing Steve. “That thing is a curse on anyone who crosses its path. A bane on humanity. A pox on my family.”

“Dramatic,” Steve laughs and hands his cohort an aluminum water bottle. “When does Natasha get back?” “Not soon enough,” Bucky chugs half the water easily, wiping the overflow from his mouth and jaw. “My neighbor left me this uptight note about noise like I have anything to do with that thing terrorizing my apartment.”

Steve notes the spark of motivation in Bucky’s voice and smirks. “And what did you do about it?” “Takes two to Tango, Stevie,” he laughs and lightly taps his metallic knuckles against his friend’s shoulder to prompt their return to jogging pace. “Neighbor won’t see what’s comin’ next.”

Admittedly, the exercise set Bucky’s muscles into a pleasant thrum of adrenaline that carried him up the stairs two at a time. The bounce in his step faltered then broke into an aggravated trot as he neared his door.

Another pink note.

Boisterous Butthead,

It may occur to you, should you remove your head from your ass long enough to listen to neighborly concern, that other residents here in the building may have complaints of their own about you and your rowdy pest. Some may be inclined to report you to the super but have refrained from drastic measures in the hopes that you might see reason. Consider this your last pink slip.

Terribly Tired Tenant

Heat rose from Bucky’s chest over his neck and into his ears, blood roiling. Brooklyn wasn’t cheap no matter how anyone sliced rent - and he’d be damned if a cat of all things got him kicked out of the only affordable place left in the borough.

His sneaker-clad foot toed the door open, met with claws and teeth viciously attacking the rubber and fabric. Bucky eyed the old piano across the room and smirked.

Terribly Tight Tenant,

Try pulling the stick out of your ass before inspecting mine. Your barking nuisance is disturbing my cat’s natural instinct to hunt. Unless your mutt has eaten them, I’ve left some OSHA approved ear plugs for your sensitive ears. Get a life that doesn’t involve me or mine.

Rested Renter

It’d taken you a few years into adulthood to finally figure out how people ended up in prison for murder. The ear plugs were already trashed, but you’d decided to keep his notes for proof of his intolerable behavior when you clicked send on your completed email to your super. 

Just a click.

But you couldn’t pull the proverbial trigger. No, this was personal. Extremely personal and an affront on your sanity.

You’re knocking at his door before you realize Beau’s fluffy head is sticking out of your door with ears perked in curiosity. You move to shoo him inside when your neighbor’s door staggers open, tenant wiggling and fussing at a screaming cat. 

He’s tall, hair cropped short, sharp jaw and icy gaze. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole, he’d be attractive.

“Can I help you?”

Oh no, he’s definitely attractive. He’s holding the door mostly shut, clearly blocking the cat’s only escape route. Paws are stretching through the crack and snapping back again furiously.

“Your cat is-”

Beau barks and his paws skid on the laminate flooring in his attempt to greet his potential new friend, but you’re too quick for him and scoop him up into your arms, tufts of fur wafting through the air. You sputter, hair tickling your lips.

“Not my cat,” he finishes for you, a hand at his hip. “Your dog is bothering my friend’s cat.”

You manage a glare at him once Beau lets his body rest in your arms, tongue lolling as he inspects the hallway from his new vantage point. “My dog is not bothering your cat, jerk, he’s protecting me.”

“From a broken vase in the next room? Right. Real big, bad guard dog you’ve got there,” he says, Beau licking at your opponent’s fingers and knuckles happily. “He’s real tough.”

“Look, keep the cat under control or I’ll file a complaint with the super about the noise. I have to work two jobs to afford this place on my own, so when I get to sleep, I’d prefer it be peaceful. I’m not asking much-”

“Then you obviously don’t know this cat.”

You roll your eyes and walk back to your door, hauling Beau over your shoulder to dig for your keys. The jingling catches the small tabby’s attention and has her crying louder, clawing viciously at the notch in the doorway. 

“Sounds like it’s better I don’t.”

Your door is shut before Bucky can admit he’s swallowed his pride.

#bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky imagine #bucky drabble

[weaselsmuses-aa]

Typhoon Island Villager HCS [final]

Emma

Age: 21

Island occupation: Island Representative. Though she’s called a shady representative by many.

Sexuality: Bi.

Friends: All of her villagers of course! (though she does have her favorites, namely Punchy, Antonio and Bamikins.)

Very hard working. Is almost always running form one side of the island with new ideas for how to improve things

When she isn’t terraforming, pathing or planting, she’s hanging out with Punchy and her friends.

A gracious host, according to her. She wants all guests to check in with her first and foremost. Gets a little grumpy when someone doesn’t follow that rule.

Terrorizing Isabelle is her hobby, gets her through the day.

Loves rain, storms and fog the most.

Favorite season is winter. (Totally not because she can make the whole month of december about her.)

Has been bickering with Isabelle so long she’s accidentally befriended her. (easier to torment her that way)

Rumored to be good friends/has close ties with Redd. (How else did he get here?)

House has an incredibly ominous vibe. Something about it just isn’t quite right.

Is a great asset when you’re friends with her, when you aren’t though....

Almost always with Antonio and Bam (Three musketeers vibe) or Punchy.,

Doesn’t get along with Julian too well. Almost always yelling at him/swearing at him under her breath. 

Misses sloppy furniture damnit.

“ I don’t know about the missing people or the blood, stop asking about it.”

Bellionare.

Punchy

Age: 23

Island occupation: Professional Slacker. (sometimes he’ll help Emma garden and clean the beach though)

Sexuality: Bi at best.

Friends: Bob [bff], Kid Cat, Beau, Antonio, Weasel, Stitches. && ofc Emma.

The FavoriteTM.

Representative’s Pet.

Probably dating Emma

Absolute precious sweetheart

Naive, lazy, but can be sarcastic and snarky when you know him well enough.

Huge heart.

Snacks on snacks on snacks on snacks

Can be a cry baby at times.

Very affectionate with his friends

Usually seen in his yard, by the playground or in Emma’s orchard.

Favorite color is blue, Favorite activity is sunbathing and naps

You look in his home and you’ll be able to tell how much of a favorite he is.

Has nothing but good things to say about Emma. (Seriously shes all he talks about.)

Kind of scared of Bam. He doesn’t get along with him well, for ...obvious reasons.

Popular but didn’t ask to be. He’s just sweet and easy to love!

Really loves cherries. A lot. Seriously. Fastest way to the little kittys heart.

Also pretty good friends with Monsun key’s Lapis, asks about her sometimes.

Bam

Age: 20

Island Occupation: Has a part time job at the museum dusting and helping out with the fossils. 

Sexuality: Pretty het.

Friends: Emma, Ky, Swiss, Antonio, Kid Cat, Beau, Cheri, Getting to know Lucky.

Big brother vibes with a pretty bad temper if you know how to strike a nerve.

Best friends with the Island Rep and Antonio

Seems to be the island’s favorite target for teasing.

Gets along well with everyone …….except Punchy and Bob.

Avidly and openly does not like Punchy, its most likely due to jealousy. It’s also rumored the reason his his very blatant crush on Emma

Only person he likes less than Punchy is Bob as he is quote ‘an asshole’. (Its usually just Bob returning the favor though for Bam being a dick to Punchy).

Usually seen working out on the Beach, doing Yoga in the square, or taking walks. Really loves the Light house, the orchards and the Playground.

Known to be a little overbearing with his attitude problems when he doesn’t like someone. (He’s been seen walking around punchy’s house,and has hit him on a few occasions)

Is either your friend and super nice, or doesn’t like you and can be a dick.

Hangs out with Cheri and Beau a lot when his two right hand pals aren’t available.

Secretly wishes Brewster would come open a shop.

Beau

Age: 22

Sexuality: Pan.

Island occupation: Got a part time gardening position from Lief. Also helps the nooklings arrange their shop displays.

Friends: Topaz, Emma, Ky, Punchy, Bam, Stitches, Lucky, Julian

Sleepy eyed sweetheart.

Very Peaceful and kind, doesn’t like to see anyone fighting and wants everyone to get along.

Definitely the type to always say yes.

Rustic mountain town vibe. Really likes nature and long hikes.

Favorite season is winter.

Best friend’s are Topaz, Punchy, and Bam.

Talks to Blathers and Celeste a lot, very interested in natural history and astronomy.

Goal is to be good friends with everyone on the island. The only one he’s having trouble with is Antonio. He can’t quite figure him out yet.

Likes to have Tea with the island rep on Sundays.

Always wanted to be like the reindeer he’s seen on TV. He admires the lifestyle and aesthetic despite being an antelope.

Has a baby blanket he’s very attached to.

Loves kids, and babysits Kid cat and stitches often, he thinks they’re very sweet.

Plants trees, flowers and shrubs a lot. He really wants to make the island feel more woodsy.

Favorite spot is the museum, orchards and star gazing spot.

Julian

Age: 28

Sexuality: Gay Trans Icon.

Island occupation: He worked at the able sisters for a little while but they had to let him go because he went overboard and tried to control everything. He’s thinking about applying at brewsters. 

Friends: Kyanite! Topaz, Beau, Cheri, Punchy & Bob (sorta)

Narcissitic, Dramatic and self obsessed.

Only thing he loves more than himself, is a good book and singing.

Really loves to look good, and is constantly indecisive about what he wears.

Has an aesthetic and will NOT let you mess with it. Seriously, don’t give him furniture, he’ll give it away.

BFF is Ky.

He also gets along with Beau and Cheri. He can appreciate Beau’s simple pleasures in life, and his kindness. Cheri and him relate on pop culture and music.

Gossips constantly, cannot keep a secret to save his life, and only wants to know your business to talk about it.

Very loving friend once your’e close to him, and will likely only break his ‘peaceful’ face, for a friend. Pissing him off is hard to decipher most of the time, as he finds it beneath him to show ‘savage’ emotions.

Claims to be magic, but no one knows if he actually is, or he just uses his species to say that.

Usually seen in the square seeking attention, following others to eavesdrop, or at home either inside, or in his yard reading or writing.

Doesn’t seem to get along with Spinel too well. He tried to be friends with her but when it didn’t work out he just decided to mess with her for fun.

Dreads double visits from Ky and her girlfriend. As they mess with his lights until they break. Blames Spinel for encouraging it.

Very curious about Lucky and Stitches but kind of creeped out by them. He snoops on them when given the chances to do so though.

Loves the stargazing spot and Ky’s picnic area. He does enjoy a good stroll on the beach too when he isn’t shopping for stuff.

Cannot be without attention for too long, he will shove himself into your conversations, your day, and the town square and tell you gossip or start singing.

Wishes there were more people on the island that he could relate to.

Cheri

Age: 22

Sexuality: She like gurls

Island occupation: Has a part time job doing island clean up for Tom on the weekends. Thinking about asking the nooks to get her a part time job at the shop.

Friends: Pearl (Monsun key), Marina (Monsun key), Emma, Lapis (monsun key),  Weasel , Bam, Bob, Julian, Punchy (they bonded over music recently), Lucky (slowly but surely shes giving her lots of gifts and being in general sweet and cheri cant okay.)

Zero bullshit tolerance.

Sarcastic, snarky and loud, but a very loyal friend

Rap, Rock and Metal are her life

House so red you will forget what other colors are.

Rumored that she’s got an album, no one on the island knows if what she says is true.

Good friends with Bam, Bob and Julian.

Usually in the square Jamming or  Hanging out on the Beach.

Pretty good friends with the Island Representative, isn’t really into all the  gossip about her.

Thinks Kid Cat is cute, but also isn’t big on watching kids, so you know.

Good friends with Weasel, likes to talk to them every once and a while.

Literally don’t start an argument with her, you WILL lose.

‘ im a bad bitch, you cant kill me’

What the hell is stitches? What the fuck happened to lucky? IS anyone going to actually acknowledge how fucked up this is?? hello???

All concerns aside, she thinks both stitches and lucky are very sweet but seriously wtf.

Rapping in the square with her friends is the shit for her okay. She loves it. Has asked Emma to throw a rapping party to which she replied ‘eh.’

Leather jackets and cool clothes are just as important as looking cute as hell!

Talks about Raymond moving like it was the best thing to happen to mankind, and his existence on typhoon island like a bad dream. (she still holdin a grudge)

Antonio

Age: He....wont tell. well guess 25

Sexuality: Doesn’t talk about it.

Island occupation: Typhoon Island ditch digger.......he digs the graves. At least thats his supposed job. He’s seen some shit. Surely.

Friends: Emma, Bam, Swiss, Bob, Stitches, Lucky, Ky

One does not simply get rid of him

Is he all there or is he not?

Vacant stare

Either ramblings of insanity or way too meddling

Everyone calls him crazy but….he knows all the dirty laundry.

Usually in the square….listening..and watching

Favorite Song is K.K. Dirge

Digs the graves for the grave yard and probably puts up the missing signs.

Always seems to pop up out of nowhere. At the most..unnerving moments.

One of the least social, yet most involved somehow.

What are you hiding antonio?

Bob

Age: 24

Sexuality: Bi.

Island occupation: Doesn’t have one. Works booorring. Give him some games and food any day.

Friends: Punchy (BFF), Emma, Lapis (Monsun Key), Weasel, Kid cat, Stitches, Lucky, Beau is okay

Absolute Meme-er

BFF is Punchy

Constant jokes, no matter his mood. Is he serious? Is he not? good luck figuring that out.

The popular kid on the island, but he doesn’t really care.

Also good pals with Swiss.

Give him a dare and he will do it. Every time

Older than the island rep and talks about it alot like its a personality trait.

Play fights you.

Sarcasm for days.

Affectionately bullies you softly

Annoys Antonio for laughs

Pisses Bam off on purpose (they dont get along)

Favorite spot is the playground , the pool and the beach.

Thinks stitches and lucky are super friggin cool. So what if they’re a little weird? That’s what makes them so awesome.

Affectionately messes with cheri when shes’ trying to sing or rap in the square.

Kind of avoids julian because he doesn’t like how he talks down to him

Got kicked out of nooks cranny a couple times. Who even knows why.

Kid cat

Age: 12

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Weasel, Ky, Punchy, Bob, Bam, Antonio, Lucky, Beau, Cheri. (So like everyone.)

Is, as his name would suggest, A kid.

Absolute trash heap of a house. Like He actually lives like this?

The island rep felt bad for him and built him a nice bed. He’s very attached to it.

Best friend’s are Bam, Kody and Weasel.

Sees Bam as a big brother.

Wants everyone on the island to be friends.

Considers himself a super hero, always wants to be the one to save the day and help people with their problems.

Hangs out on the playground, claims the jungle gym as his ‘base’.

If he isn’t there he hangs out in the square trying to spread his ‘heroisms’

Wide eyed optimist

NARUTO RUNNING AROUND YOU.

Is probably going to stay up past his bed time. Whos going to stop him

Claims the ninja turtles live under his house.

Misses Raymond. Says the island is ‘missing its dad’

Stitches

Age: Ageless, but comes off as a 6-10 year old

Island occupation: Doing whatever Emma tells him. 

Friends: Emma, Punchy, Topaz, Kid Cat, Weasel, Beau, Lucky, Bob

A mash up of many different bears and animals before him. All of whom met an untimely end by the hands of the creature.

Is not aware of how he came to be, and it is in Emma’s best interest to keep it that way. She will make sure you don’t tell him.

Can’t see very well, and can’t speak. Instead is telepathic, and can speak in sign language if need be. You will be able to hear his voice, but his mouth will never move.

Doesn’t come out of his house too terribly often, and is not allowed out after dark.

Favorite activity is playing pretend! He loves his toys and his blocks, and sometimes will go over to kid cats or weasels to play pretend with them.

Refers to the island representative as a mother, which .....disturbs and disconcerns most.

really close with lucky. They relate on a lot of....similar misfortunes. They can also speak to each other privately through mystical means without interruption or eavesdropping from others.

Is as name would suggest, stitched up. Sometimes the seams come undone and his stuffing comes out. (Yes hes actually full of ...just stuffing.) stuffin’!

Seems to be alive by sheer paranormal means. There is nothing in him keeping him ticking biologically.

Wants to be friends with isabelle, but notices he frightens her, so he avoids town hall.

Favorite spots are his room, the picnic by kys house, and the playground. (He wants to learn the monkeybars!)

Really looks up to Punchy, and wants him to help teach him the ways of the world....though punchy may NOT be the best rolemodel.

Afraid of Bam and Antonio, but is put under their care often.

Lucky

Age: ......we aren’t sure. Shes been dead a while. The only one who might know is emma.

Island occupation: Haunting the island after dark. (She’d help out if anyone would hire her.)

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Bob, Beau, Swiss

Is as ‘luck’ would have it, dead. She’s a spirit.

Rumored first victim of the typhoon island serial killer. She’s been dead a while, as her house would show, she’s not had the privilege of living for quite some time now.

Her bandages are a permanent feature, and theres a rumor floating around that without it, there wouldn’t be much left to her---besides those piercing haunting eyes of course.

Has a very sweet, soft spoken voice. Almost as quiet as a distant whisper. 

Very good friends with Emma. Follows her around almost....an unnatural amount. Almost as if...she’s got some sort of attachment to her.

Has a grave in her back yard, which was not naturally there prior. Seems to have dug it herself. A comfort thing perhaps since to present knowledge she was never given proper burial.

A very kind dog, and very helpful if you give her the chance and look past her....otherworldly appearance.

Loves stitches like a baby brother, almost always hanging out with him more than anyone else, will protect him feircly.

Self conscious about her state of being dead, just wants to make friends and live a happy afterlife since hers was taken from her.

Loves gardening, though all her flowers turn into black roses....or die.

Favorite spot is the graveyard, the forest, and Emma’s orchards.

Thinks her and Isabelle would get along good! If....Isabelle didn’t run away from her.

Really loves K.K. Slider concerts. Always wants to be the first to attend them. Can he see her though? She’s not sure sometimes.

#HCs #;Typhoon Isle #(Interests);Emma #IT IS DONE.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Screw it

LAOFT from someone who’s never read the main story

100% of my knowledge of LAOFT comes from askes of @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors that I read and the one-shots I’ve read. Some of it will be right. Most of it will be wrong. Hopefully all of it is a hilarious, sleep-deprived mess.

Since there’s a good chance I’ve got at least a few bits of plot right there are some spoilers herein so beware weary traveler who really should just skip past this mess of a post.

Sleep-deprivation baby let’s go.

The basics:

Setting: Wickhills

Creepy fae town

I think it’s based in Ohio. Maybe. Probably. idk

Tho if you came here for exacts buddy oh boy I have bad news for you

I digress

I think the description of the first part says smth about the people not minding having their things stolen

Except for uh I think her name’s May Gage

Ro’s Mom?

I think

NO WAIT

Description has to do with Dot Sanders

Mum of Lo and Tho

Will talk about them later but I just had to get that straight first

Even tho there’s, like, nothing straight in this AU

I think the main plot problems arise, originally, due to miscommunication

Or lack of communication

All I know is in the drunk history of Wickhills that I barely remember there was a mention of them not communicating and that basically dooming them

And y’all... lots going on around here

Lots

So uh we’re jumping into characters now here I go

Virgil Lastnamesmth: 

No I don’t know his last name and no I’m not going to learn it just for this post

It’s Lastnamesmth now deal with it

I think he’s Spider King

Or smth like that

He rules the forest

After he gets out of his magic coma

He’s in that for a long time tho

100 years I think?

And uh I think Durant did it to him but we’ll talk about the devil in a snake suit later

He got put in a protective coffin by... I want to say Greta but ngl I know nothing about Greta. 

She may be one of Vi’s sisters

He has a LOT of siblings actually

Many are spider sisters I think

And I think Elliot and Thomas are also his siblings in a way

Maybe

idk

Again don’t trust what you read when it comes from me peeps

But he’s super powerful

And I think he’s in the winter court

Whatever that means

I know courts exist for the seasons, and I’m reasonably sure Virgil’s is Winter, but that’s about it

He has magic but I don’t think he used it in any of the one-shots I read so what do I know

Well he does in one

That one where Logan gives his full name

That one was good I quite liked it

Well actually they’re all good I like all the ones I read

Back to Virgil

Hates parties which is a mood

He has to host them tho

Being Spider King is cool other than that bit I gather

And the part where the court gossips about you but oh well I suppose

I believe he’s autistic too

Or at least written with a lot of autistic traits

Is that how you say it? Autistic traits sounds wrong

Can fae be autistic? Or just like it?

Y’know what fuck it fae can be autistic and the only one allowed to @ me about that is the author screw off haters

I think the rest of what I have to say can live in the misc section

NEXT CHARACTER

Roman Gage:

I’d like to start with I love him and every time I think about what little I know of his backstory I want to cry

idk how he ended up in an abusive relationship but I know he did

And he’s such a good boi

He doesn’t DESERVE IT GODSDAMNIT

Only Vi would get me this emotionally invested in characters I only sorta know I swear

So yeah

Current Ro still has some problems with that

For very obvious reasons

And yet!

He is a gentleman and a knight and a champion and a prince

Yes that is a direct reference at that one one-shot shhh

His family is also one of witches right

He has a familiar 

Tis a cat named Dizzy

I only know about Dizzy from like one fic tho so that’s all I can say about her

Dizzy can talk too in case that wasn’t clear

He made a potion in the microwave despite knowing that he probably shouldn’t and I think that’s a good summary of his character

I think he found Virgil first

At the very least he did find Virgil

He’s a human who found a hot dude in a glass case crawling with creepy crawlies and thought ‘ah yes the perfect place to spend all my time’

Sounds legit I’m sure

I don’t know how this lead to him in a bad place with the motherfucker also called the Serpent King

But it did

But in the end he got glass coffin boy and two others so at least he’s got that going for him

We move on once more!

Patton Uh what’s Remy’s last name again I think it’s that:

Or it isn’t

I said it before I’ll say it again:

Looking up info for this defeats the point

Deal with my horrible misinformation

He got a gift from White!

I believe this is because his Mum saved her or something

The problem?

Uh

The gift is also a curse

Because while it’s incredibly written that’s the cliché folks

People have to do what ever he ‘orders’

Basically anything that techincally demands something from the other

Including things like ‘stop’ which is like one-hit KO murder word

Patton had a nightmare about that

That was a fun one-shot

Though if you could just like kill people on accident I guess I’d have nightmares ‘bout it too

He’s the other human of the trio plus one

No I don’t remember the word for a group of four people and no I’m not going to look it up

A Professional Cuddler according to that one fic where the description’s like ‘Patton thinks he’s got the best seat in the house’ or whatever

There’s one fic where Emile help him put make-up on

Wowsers

That fic was fun to read because he flustered ALL his bfs

No question

What else what else

I think he’s got a bodyguard

Named... Bell???

Maybe???

Okay I think that’s most of my Pat knowledge

ONWARDS

Logan (Berry) Sanders:

Yes adding the Berry was very important

It’s a huge part of that name fic

And I like it so

Deal with it

He’s a fae

I believe a changling to be exact

And a selkie

He’s... spring court...?

He was replaced for Thomas in typical Changling fashion

But then Thomas came back (I think Dot got Tho back idk) and suddenly he had a brother

He has nature magic of some form

But his best power is his flower power

He can’t control it and I love it so much

I don’t even KNOW what each type of flower appearing means 9 out of 10 times but that doesn’t make me any less happy about it

*Sigh*

I wish I sprouted flowers at random...

I think he’s also autistic

He and Virgil occasionally bond over that it’s sweet

Like with the painted nails tap tap tapping

Or the singing walls

I know something happened to him

Something relating to something stupid Ro did

I think that’s the stupid thing that got Ro forced to be with the dick that is Deceit in this

But I honestly don’t know what happened to Logan

Hmph

He can be a nervous boi

That fic where he tried to say I love you with his notecards?

Love that one

...Twenty-five percent of this is just me randomly complimenting Vi’s one-shots ain’t it

Huh

Oh well

No regrets

I just realized I use ‘Vi’ for Violet and Virgil interchangeably

That may be problematic but screw off if you think I’m going to change anything

That’s too much effort

BACK TO LOGAN

He has a honey problem from that one fic I read

Where he gets real sappy about his bfs to Thomas

Not like a bad problem

Just a ‘maybe he should stop drinking it if he wants to pretend he has dignity’ problem

Okey-dokie I’m moving on to his bro now

Thomas (Bug) Sanders:

Lo’s incredible brother

And when I say incredible I mean it

Very nice

Will squish Logan when needed

Actually will squish anyone when needed

He has a Squish Instinct

Also has Brother Instinct and no it’s not the Cain Instinct

It’s the opposite

Will Fight if you try to hurt Lo from what I can tell

I think he also had a monster in his head

The monster has a longer name but I can’t spell it so I won’t try

This fact is based on One (1) one-shot where he has a weird freak out

That’s also the fic I base my belief that he’s somehow Virgil’s brother on

But no promises

The fic starts with italics and bolded lines interchanging

I don’t remember the name tho

If you haven’t already figured out I’m not going to look it up you’re even more sleep-deprived then I am

But yeah Thomas is great

Teases Lo about his crushes like a good bro

Helps Lo when he’s panicking or freaking out or something

Even when Lo’s at college

I don’t know as much about Tho so let’s leave it there

Onto the Monster

Durant (is that his name idk) Monsterunworthyoflove: 

His last name is Monsterunworthyoflove because that’s what he is

I know almost nothing about him actually

They call him ‘he’ a lot because I think trigger reasons

But honestly he also doesn’t deserve to have his name spoken

He was the Snake King

Maybe Serpent King 

Eh idc

I believe he put Virgil in magic coma to rule as King

I think they were brothers but idk

HE SUCKS

I think he’s dead

I wish I knew how or by who’s hand but he is

He got a coffin in the ground which I think if unfair

Let the worms devour his flesh and let me make his bones into my furniture

I am a part of the Kill Durant Again squad only because I missed my chance to kill him first

Like I said I know little about him

But he put the abusive in Roman’s abusive relationship so honestly fuck him to Hell and back and then do it again for good measure

Every time I read a scene with Ro being uncomfy because of him

I want to strangle him

I fucking mime the motions

Violet honestly props on making such a hate-able character

I could talk about him more because I do know a few other things

But honestly the fact he’s not real and my dream to choke him slowly is therefore impossible makes my skin crawl

I hate him so much it’s not healthy so we’re moving on

To minor characters!

Minor Characters:

As in characters I know very little about

I guess they could be vital characters

REMY

MY BOI

I know he’s a classic badboy who will die if Emile kisses him and I love him

Also he’s super smart with his moonshine and I’m so proud

I love him so so so so much and I barely know him

Good job Violet you wrote him well and I love you

Emile is also great

Remy has protected him for wearing skirts because Rem’s a good boy and he’s RIGHT

Emile feels bad for treating Patton bad in the past I think

Hence that one make-up session

Emile also crushes on Remy hard the remile in this AU is on point man

Elliot exists

I think they’re Virgil’s sibling. Somehow. Maybe

I read one one-shot that focused on their relationship with Vi and that’s all I know about them

Mawmaw (Mamaw? mawma? I’mma just call her May. If she’s May. I think she’s May) is Ro’s Mom.

Also a witch I think

Really tough but she cares

Dot is super nice

She’s Lo and Tho’s Mum I think

I don’t remember the one-shots with her in them well but she’s always sweet

Okay there’s this one character who’s name starts with an E

I think she’s Logan biological mom

Logan cut a knot he had with her or smth

Apparently she’s awful and Vi would kill her but it would have a bad mental effect on Ro for... some reason

he got pale when the idea was brought up idk

I would have thrown her in forever prison if I couldn’t kill her but that’s just me

She placed a curse on Lo that stopped him from leaving Wickhills I think

Or smth

Lo broke the curse tho so what does it matter

Linda is the LAMP’s daughter??? I think???

I... haven’t actually read the fics she’s in so idk

But people really seem to love her so that’s neat

Out of minor characters so we progress to my fav part about the series

Gay bois:

Aka the LAMP gang

They’re so gay guys

The gayest gays

I like to think I can write decent gays

But these???????

They barely have to look at each other before they’re dead, murdered, killed by the mere beauty of one of the others

I LIVE FOR IT

In the one-shots I’ve read they’re either completely 100% fluffy gays

Or gays helping each other with one Trauma or another

But they still end up gay-ing over each other in the end

and the KISSING

as an aroace I generally find kisses meh or ew

But these gays

All they want to do is kiss

Sometimes it’s tender and sweet and loving

More often than not tho the kisses are like

‘If one of you didn’t manage to barely hold onto a brain cell throughout the gay you’d be fucking in public’

I am repulsed to write that sentence but it’s TRUE

...I think

Note: idek the difference between passionate but just passionate kisses and passionate about to get steamy kisses

Because you know

aroace

But the main point:

I find kisses meh

But these gays very clearly illustrate how beautiful kisses can be and I think that’s wonderful

Also I just generally love LAMP and this is good good LAMP A++ Vi

They’re so gay and loving and protective of each other

They really deserved their own category

Onto the final section

Misc:

Aka stuff that doesn’t fit in the other sections and/or stuff that did fit in the other sections but I forgot about it and am too lazy to put where it belongs

I realize now that Remy and Pat do not have the same last name

They’re not brothers (I don’t think......)

Does Pat’s last name start with a W?

That sounds right

Fug me if I know what Rem’s last name is tho

Where do they all live

I thought only Vi lived in fae land

But I think Pat may live there too

But Lo lives in non-fae land???

idk

Also fae land is called fairyland and I can’t tell if that’s it’s actual name or the name one of the Bois gave it jokinly

Because if fairyland is it’s serious name, that’s hilarious

No shade Violet I’m just easily amused

Y’know I always forget how young these bois are

Then I remember Lo’s not even 18 by the time the after main plot one-shots come in to play

So like

Damn son they young

I feel double bad for all of them

Triple bad for Ro- the Serpent King’s head will be mine I swEAR

I think Ro’s been a knight twice

Tho if you ask me he’s only been a knight once

Because I refuse to associate him in any way to the dick that is Durant if I can help it so he’s only ever been Vi’s knight suck it

Apparently like almost all of Wickhills hate the Sander bois

Probably the LAMP crew too idk

What I mean to say is despite how desperate I want to live there a lot of Wickhills’s residents are jerkwads

I think I saw a post where Lo can do photosynthesis and idk if it’s a shitpost or not but in this mess of a post I have decided it is canon

Mainly because that’s cool and I would like to do photosynthesis

A new one-shot I didn’t read has sparked a lot of askes about a Matt

I believe this man to be Pat’s father

But I can make no promises as to the accuracy of this belief

Did Linda come out of a tree?

idk why but I feel like she did

That’s weird man

How do you come out of a tree

(me @ me: ‘you could... you could read the fic and find out’

So turns out I can shut the hell up

I am a bitch who understands nothing)

And I have ONCE MORE gotten off track oof

My favorite part of reading LAOFT is all the fae knowledge I learn

Really has sparked my interest in fae

Even if I’ll never know enough to do anything with it asfsdfb

Plus apparently Vi just sprinkles in her own fae lore here and there

Which is super cool

But also means if I tried to write something I’m quite sure someone would be like ‘umm this isn’t true’ and I would feel played

Also what is up with Vi and Lo and rainfall

In that one fic where they hide in a tree and Logan senses a raindrop

His skin breaks open and sews itself together????

wtf????

So confusion

But hey guess whose bitch’s fault that is

*finger guns at a mirror*

ELDRITCH MONSTORITY

That’s not at ALL how you spell it but that’s it that’s the thing that was in Thomas’s head

Go me for remembering it

Fae land has a lot of customs and I know very few of them

Tho I do adore that one Flirt fic

Poor poor Virgil

Oh yeah Logan can make these super cool bushes

I know he used one rose bush when fighting someone who’s name started with a Mrs/Miss

Yes I know the first name wasn’t actually Mrs/Miss

But all I know of her name is Mrs/Miss something

And he used another bush against some idiot of a fae who grabbed Patton

By the way go protective Lo go

Like they can all get crazy protective of each other and I LIVE for it

ROMAN HAD HIS MEMORIES SPLIT UP??????

I mean I knew about a Night Roman and a Day Roman but I thought that was

like

a metaphor 

Like Roman acted differently during the night because he was stuck with a monster whom I shall revive simply to kill again

And he was trying to be separate from that person??

Or something like that

But NOPE

Serpent King is a Bastard of a being and I would happily crush his wind pipe beneath my foot

I hope the most amusing part of this sleep-drunk post is my different names for Durant the Dead Bitch because I am having fun insulting him

Okay listen peeps that is not even CLOSE to everything about this series but I wrote this over a couple of days, and my memory of what has been written and hasn’t been written is nonexistent, and if you think I’m rereading this to edit, you’re a fool (no offense) so like. We’re just gonna do a wrap-up summary and call it good.

Summary: Gay fae messes who should figure out the value of communication get themselves in a LOT of shit because of their lack of said communication.

Also, final apologies to Violet, because LAOFT has incredibly deep, rich, intricate lore and my response to this lore is to grossly misrepresent it and also write this while I’m in the constant state of being sleep-deprived, and more or less acting like I’m drunk or smth

So uh. I hope this was amusing.

#the cryptid speaks #the cryptid is a fool #tired I am #won't stop me from doing this tho #laoft #violet #I have no apologies #also #no fact checking #because we die like men #swearing tw #long post #really #very very long post beware #and almost all of it is my stupid ramblings #violence tw #tell me if I need to tag something I forgot about and it will be done

[kinsbin]

Family Dinner

Title: Family Dinner Ship: Alexys/Michael [Self Insert/OC] Word Count: 2100

Summary: The Seeds come over to the Sinclaire’s for a dinner. Joseph’s presence causes tension with Michael as he sets his sights on Alexys, and it’s up to her to calm her boyfriend down. 

A/N: Another comm for @space-sweetheart of her and @nadineselfships‘s OC Michael!!! This one was fun because Seed and Sinclair Dyamics are a wILD RIDE.

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

It was tense.

The room had a sort of fog over it. It was the heavy set and dangerous type of fog that was near visible in the emotions of every human being standing in the doorway of the Sinclaire’s ranch. It suffocated each person and crushed their lungs in their chest as eyes warily searched about one another. Alexys could feel each breath she took in and let out, the exhale of air palpable in her sighs and she was suddenly all too aware of her breathing as she moved and shifted awkwardly from side to side from where she was standing. God, she thought with a bit of an annoyed huff through closed lips, she hated when things got like this. It made her want to disappear into a hole and wait for the tense air to pass. To hibernate through the winter of biting attitude and distrust and hopefully wake up in a world with a better view of itself.

Instead she was forced to sit through it. God she hated when the Seed Siblings came to visit the ranch.

It was necessary, she knew. With Nadine and John being an item, there was a natural sort of tension that threaded through the fabric of their family now. Michael always complained in private to her about it, and the memories would make her giggle from time to time as she brought them up like a movie reel in the back of her head. Her boyfriend pouting as they held one another, nuzzling into her shoulder and complaining bitterly about how much he didn’t trust John. How much he was worried for his sister and how he only let him live because Mother said he was allowed to. If he had ever hurt anyone in the family again, Nadine especially, he’d have to kill him. Each word was punctuated with anger, a dark grip on her waist that promised his threats to be true. She suppressed a smile at the memory.

With John, though, came the rest of the Seed siblings. The very same force that longed to kill and destroy the empire Michael and his family had built up after so many years. They were welcome into the Sinclaire’s home under a very specific set of circumstances in order to check on their beloved brother. Mother was good like that. She understood the importance of family and making sure they were safe at all times, and allowing the enemies into her base of operations even with the entire family present was more than a polite gesture.

Still, the Seeds always seemed to want more.

James didn’t trust it, of course. Not after the incident with Xena. Even now, in the midst of greeting the entering rival family, his girlfriend remained tight at his side. Narrowed eyes met each one’s gaze with an arm tucked tight to the smaller girls body, practically melding her into his form.  Michael, likewise, kept a sharp eye trailed on each Seed as they entered the room. Polite greetings made their rounds dully through lips that did not match eyes as the group watched one another like cats about to pounce. Alexys tried to smile but it felt uneasy, even with Michael by her side.

“It’s so nice that all of you are able to join us for dinner,” Mother spoke as though she did not notice the tension held tight in the room around them, her smile as warm as her soul as she nodded, “Seeing a family catch up with one another is always heartwarming to see.”

“Seeing the enemy in our ranch is less than heartwarming.” Michael’s tone was dull and sharp under his guarded facade. Alexys looked up to the man at her side and noted the way his emerald eyes hardened like stone, jaded and sharp as it observed the group before him as they sat down at the table having been set by both herself and Nadine. They had wanted a nice family dinner for a change, at least that was the hope they had tittered about in the kitchen while cutting up vegetables in preparation for the festivities. A pleasant meal where, for once, no politics would be discussed and no issues would be brought up. A hopeful meal that they would be able to enjoy in the company of their significant others and their families alike.

She could see now that was a short lived dream. Especially as Joseph’s (the eldest of the siblings she remembered) eyes settled on Michael’s and the two shared a long, hard moment of eye contact that felt like two dogs posturing at one another for dominance.  The edge of shock that rumbled through the entire table from their stares alone was enough to crumble the infrastructure of whatever hopes the rest of the family had dared to keep in their hearts about peace. Alexys let out a sigh through clenched teeth. It was going to be one hell of a dinner, certainly.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Joseph spoke with a smile as his eyes turned from Michael’s and to Mother’s instead, the facade of his grin all business as it hid something under it. Alexys could sense it, though she didn’t know how. She’d like to think that the time she had spent with Michael helped. That he had helped her to read between the lines of emotions and search for the truth buried deep inside of them. Hell, that was sometimes the only way she could fully understand Michael. Though, nowadays, he let her. He let her see his heart… To reach into him and understand him… He even did so with a smile on his lips, soft and loving towards her.

Alexys tried to hide the blush that burned on her cheeks. She shifted closer to Michael and her hand sought his out in the blindness of her sides. She felt the warmth of his fingertips and made her move to grip them as they sat together. Michael’s body tensed for a moment, eyes flickering over to her, and the ghost of a smile spread itself warmly on his mouth as his hand took hers in his own. It wrapped around hers and squeezed with a firm but gentle grip that signaled that, yes, he was here. He was at her side. As always, it would never change. The feeling made Alexys feel safer. It was more secure at his side. The lights around her seemed brighter and she was dizzy with the love that seemed to pulsate through their bodies as they touched.

This was where she wanted to be.

She just wished Joseph was able to see that.

The very thought of the man, who was still so clearly watching her, made her skin crawl as she bit her lip to offer a soft nod of acknowledgement towards him. Joseph nodded back, as though he thought they were sharing some sort of meaningful conversation. In her grip she could feel Michael’s hand tense up, a growl echoed somewhere in the back of his throat as he glared at the other man across from her.

“You’re looking at me like that again.” Joseph addressed Michael calmly as he continued to watch the other man.

MIchael scoffed, his tone of voice sharp as he raised an eyebrow towards Joseph. Blue and green eyes flashed like water and earth as they made careful note of one another and Alexys could already tell that this was not going to go well. She groaned internally and, from the corner of her eye, she caught Nadine and Xena shoving even more bread into their mouths in an effort to pretend they didn’t notice the scenario unfolding before them. She fought back a laugh at the two before focusing back on the men who had apparently decided they needed to do whatever it was they were doing at the dinner table.

“Like what?” Michael challenged as he stabbed his fork into a piece of potato with absent enthusiasm.

“Like I’m going to steal something from you,” Joseph observed with a tilt of his head, “Something you can’t replace in your heart…”

Michael growled darky under his breath, his hand gripping his fork harder with every passing moment of tension as he sneered, “Oh? Well, I mean, if you’re going to bring it up, this month marks the… what…. Third time you’ve tried to apprehend my significant other against her will? I must say you get points for creativity but, god, you piss me off each time.”

“Michael,” Nadine groaned somewhere in the corner, “Can we not do this while we-”

“Is that what you’re upset about? For me taking your toy from you?”

The words left Joseph’s lips and then Michael stood up. HIs hand freed itself from Alexys’ as he rose, gripping his knife tight in his hands and slamming it down across the table as he leaned forward, all but climbing over the furniture to reach Joseph. Joseph, in turn, did not flinch. He watched Michael approach him with the rage building in his eyes. The knife in Michael’s hand had imbedded itself sharply in the wood.

“You want to repeat that?” Michael’s voice was low with rage, “You’re telling me you think she’s just a TOY?”

“Is she not to you?” Joseph was genuinely surprised, it permeated his tone of voice as he stared up at the man threatening him with an even expression.

Alexys intervened then, reaching out and taking Michael’s arm in her hand. She could feel that he was shaking, his body vibrating at a violent speed as he physically restrained himself from stabbing the knife into Joseph’s flesh then and there. The rest of the table was tense with the confrontation, everyone watching with baited breath for the events to occur. If anything that bad were to happen, everyone knew, there would be a war at the table of Jesus tonight.

“Michael,” Alexys murmured as she tugged at him gently, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

It took a long, tense second for Michael to relent, settling down and away from the table. The couple stood up and existed the dining room, leaving the group in a sea of quiet as they moved to one of the nearby bathrooms. Alexys brought Michael into it, locking the door behind them as she sighed and turned to face him.

She hated seeing him like this. Like he always got with the Seeds so close to him. He didn’t care about their disapproval. Nor their malice towards him, but, when that was directed towards Alexys? Towards her health and safety? He always became so livid.

Reaching out, she touched his cheeks. She held his face in her hands and brought him to look up to her with a soft smile. He held her gaze with his own worried one, body tense as a hand brought itself up and touched the top of hers, holding it close and pushing his cheek into her soft palm with a sigh.

“I worry…” Michael murmured, “One day what he say will make sense to you and… you will go with him of your own accord. You will think I use you as a toy but-! I promise, you are nothing like that to me. You are…. The most beautiful thing that’s been put in my presence since my life here and I will never, ever, take that for granted.”

Alexys smiled and leaned forward, her lips finding MIchael’s in a reassuring kiss that he returned with care, always so careful to handle her as they kissed and shared their emotions through the passion of their lips. She felt her body draw itself closer to his, pouring her emotions into the soul of the kiss they shared and running a hand through his hair as she sighed into his lips. When they pulled away, she put her forehead on his and he sighed, his breaths coming into tandem with her own. He was finally relaxing and, with a single smile, Alexys reassured him in a gentle tone of voice:

“I’m yours, and, I know you’ll never hurt me on purpose. I trust you, Michael, and love you and only you the most.”

And to that he smiled, the comfort she offered insurmountable as they shared the private moment together.

Things would be okay.

#self ship #self insert #self insert writing #self ship writing #writing commission #kinley writes #far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #fc5oc

[pinkhairnoshoes]

Overjoyed

Feeling my hands start shaking

Hearing your voice I'm overjoyed

Bucky stands at his sliding door of his condo, watching the traffic rush down the street just outside. The sun shines in reflecting off his metal arm. The place felt too big, so empty without her in it. For years he had lived alone, he was frustrated with himself for feeling lonely. She never came back. The team had returned from time traveling and collecting the Infinity Stones from the past. They were all overjoyed looking around the room, seeing they had completed their mission. One realized, and then the next down the row; Natasha had not made it back.

Steve had explained it to him after they had saved the world. He hadn’t asked at first but he couldn't get it off his mind. He and Natasha had started dating before the Snap. They had bought this place and made it theirs. Two lost souls, finally found and settled into a normal home. They thought of raising a family or maybe not. Perhaps they were too messed up for that. It was a dream and he had hoped it had become reality. He asked Steve that day, sitting on the couch behind him, if Natasha had moved on. Steve reached out to hold him hand before telling him what had occurred. Bucky had felt cold all over and his mind couldn’t process the words. They held no meaning for him.

He crumbles into Steve, resting his head on his shoulder as he just sobs. The words were starting to make it through his brain and set in. Natasha was gone. There would be no family, no white-picket fence, no big house in the suburbs. Steve, bless him, had stayed as long as he could to make sure Bucky was okay. Eventually he had to move on and Steve had to return home. It was so goddamn quiet. Nothing filled the emptiness, not the sound of the tv or the radio. His mind was so loud to the point of being deafening. Was she really dead or trapped in some reality by the Soul Stone exchange? He wonder why she had sacrificed herself.

I'm sorry but I have no choice, you're only getting better

Maybe you have your reasons

Maybe you're scared, you're feeling down

Are you crying when there's no one around?

Oh then maybe, maybe if you hold me baby

Let me come over I would tell you secrets nobody knows

I can not overstate it, I will be overjoyed

******

“The zebra are escaping!”

Bucky wakes up to the strange exclamation. Everything is unfamiliar yet so familiar. He hears the words coming out of his mouth as his mind is trying to catch up.

“What baby Jack?” The words roll off his tongue so naturally.

Who’s Jack? It takes him a minute and when he clicks in, he questions how he didn’t know immediately. It was his son looking so much like him with black hair and blue eyes. He’s beautiful and perfect in every way. Bucky just wants to pull him close not let go.

The child launches himself onto the bed and climbs into his father’s lap. He nuzzles into Bucky’s neck, laughing as he’s tickled by the scratchy beard. Bucky smiles and glances down at the bed absentmindedly. His eyes start to water as he sees her. Her red hair sprayed out messily, her face looking uncharacteristically gentle against the white pillowcase. He reaches out to her, pulling the covers down. Her eyes shoot open and she looks murderous until she notices who is there. She smiles and sits up.

“My loves,” she says in Russian.

Natasha leans in and kisses him full on the lips. His mind explodes. He had missed this.

That smile on your face like a summer

The way that your hand keeps touching mine

Let me be the one to make it right

And maybe, maybe let me hold you baby

Let me come over I would tell you secrets nobody knows

I can not overstate it, I will be overjoyed

Bucky can barely restrain himself, his hands are roaming all over body, up her nightdress to her breasts when she tells him to stop. He does immediately, holding himself up on his elbows just smiling taking in her beauty.

“Jack is going to need his diaper changed and there’s no way he’s giving us alone time for this.”

Bucky kisses her one more time, before grabbing his son, whose diaper is in fact full, and carrying him to his bedroom. It’s a small place and he guesses right the first time. The walls are a soft blue and all the furniture is white and clean looking. He places his son gently on the changing pad and starts to gather the things he’ll need. It’s another thing that seems to come naturally even though he has no memory of changing one.

Jack is eager to run as soon as Bucky sets him down. Natasha is leaning in the doorway, a sweatshirt pulled on over her pajamas. She was looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“Will you watch him so I can shower? I’ve only managed to shave one leg all week.”

Jack is sitting on a plush rug, playing with blocks. Bucky wonders how old the child is. He kneels on the ground in front of him. “Hey there, buddy.”

“Daddy!”

A smile breaks across his face and he leans in to kiss his forehead.

“How old are you?”

The boy looks down confused before looking up at holding up 7 fingers. “I’m 600 years old.”

“Oh Jesus. That old? How old is Mommy?”

He shrugs. “10?”

“And Daddy?”

“9?”

Bucky grabs him and pulls him into his lap, enjoying the niceness of cuddling him. He holds his child until he starts to squirm and wants to be let down. Until he hears the shower shutting off, the bathroom door opening, the sound of drawers opening and closing.

“I’ve missed you. Let me hold you another minute,” he whispers and Jack stills in his arms.

Natasha peeks out the door, watching her husband holding her son. Her husband that died nine months ago on a mission. It couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be him. She had tested him though and observed him down to the location of moles and freckles. It was 100% her husband, James, and oh god she wanted him back home. She shuts the door and wipes the tears in her eyes. Fuck, this wasn’t her. She didn’t feel and she certainly didn’t hurt. Not after what had happened in the Red Room. Nothing was ever going to hurt her worse than that. James made her feel safe and whole without her realizing it.

“White Wolf, wake up.”

The words repeat in his head and he fights it but he can’t. The real world comes into focus as the desired world fades away. He’s in an outdoor shack lying on a soft bed of leaves. He’s in Wakanda visiting a Shaman for his therapy.

The woman speak again. “White Wolf, wake up.”

He sits up and holds his head in his hands.

“I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. How does this help? Showing me what I can never have?”

She starts to collect her herbs and his tea cup, cleaning up the space. “Do not take that tone with me,” she says in her heavily accented English.

“Sorry,” he breathes out. “I appreciate it, I really do.”

“It’s a world. It exists.”

“What?”

“I could make it permanent. There’s a price of course.”

“I have a son there. I want to be his dad. I want to raise him,” he says his throat starting to feel constricted when he thinks about how it could be taken away.

The shaman is handing him a small handwritten list before leading him out of the yurt. The sun is bright and hot as they exit, Bucky raises his hand to shield his eyes.

“Think on it,” she says squeezing his shoulder before turning and returning inside.

He would stay here for a day or two before making the trip back to New York. Back in his room he looks over the list. It was different from what she normally gave him.

*****

He returns back to the city and back to his life. Helping Sam run meetings at the VA, volunteering at the children’s hospital. He had a job now, outside of the Avengers and that life. He drove a taxi in New York. He did a Russian accent, the tourists liked that. He could remember the years of only speaking Russian. He could remember the home he shared with Natasha where they rarely spoke English.

The days pass by feeling empty and lackluster, impossible to tell one day from the next. Each night he would stare at the list on the fridge. It was next to a picture of him and Natasha, taken by Steve at a picnic event. The sun capturing the red of Natasha’s hair making it look copper in the sun. He couldn’t bring himself to put her pictures away. Some days they really hurt and others they brought a strange comfort. He didn’t know the path forward without her.

Dating would be difficult, finding someone that could accept his troubled past. He was the Winter Soldier trained to be a deadly assassin. For over seventy years he completed missions without a thought or emotion. Hundreds of times they erased his memory and took the things most precious from him. Memories of his parents and his younger sister Rebecca. Steve had helped him piece the things back together but it would never be the same. There would always be things he would never recover.

Steve wasn’t the same after he came back from returning the Stones. He had stayed longer with Peggy or maybe someone else. He wouldn’t tell them but he was looking his true age now. Bucky knew he wouldn’t have him around for that much longer. Just as Peggy had, he would pass away. The people he could count on grew less and less. All his thoughts the past week had led back to what the Shaman had said. He could have it all, just slip through and be in the other universe.

The universe where Bucky had a wife and child. One where Steve and Tony had married each other and adopted two small children. One of the children the boy who would become Spider-Man. One where Thanos had never come to be and the Avengers were still together. This whole split between Steve and Tony had never happened. Of course they had fought over the Accords but it never got that bad. Steve hadn’t kept secrets from Tony and those secrets never rolled into bigger problems.

Bucky was sure the universe still had its problem but Natasha and Steve would be there and that had to be enough. So he placed a phone call and had a payment wired over to the Shaman so her assistant could start collecting the ingredients. He would have to start closing things off here. He didn’t know if he could pack a bag or if he just went with what was on his body.

******

Bucky wakes up in the relaxing sea salt blue room, under a fluffy white comforter. He was warm so he kicks the covers off of him. He didn’t quite get why he always ended up in the bed. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. His shoes sitting nicely by the bed. He looks out the window and observes that it is late afternoon. He hears the television from the other room and assumes it’s a cartoon.

Bucky takes a deep breath before opening the door, the last thing he wanted to do with startle Natasha.

“Natalia?” he says coming through the door into the living-room.

Jack jumps off the couch and runs straight into his legs wrapping his arms around tightly. “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”

There’s a young girl sitting on the couch who stands up suddenly before staring at his fearfully. He knew the metal arm and wild hair could be off-putting. He picks up his son, who immediately nuzzles into his neck.

“Nat didn’t mention you would be home.”

He adjusts Jack in his metal arm and holds out his other hand for her to shake. She looks at him uncertain before taking it.

“I’m Bucky. I’ve been out of the country for work,” he explains because it wasn’t that far from the truth.

“I’m Madison. I live in the building. Usually watch your kid. Do you need me to stay since you’re, like, home?”

“No, but I’ll pay you for the whole night. What do I owe you?” Bucky asks realizing he has no idea how much a babysitter charges.

She tells him what a sounds like a reasonable amount and he excuses himself to get his wallet. He finds it on the nightstand and he hopes money is the same here. It’s an alternative universe so it was a possibility.

The girl takes the money and leaves the house. It’s late once Natasha returns. He’s managed to bathe his son and put him to bed. Not on his own though. Last time he was here, he had picked up a pay as you go phone. He had to call Steve and be talked through everything. He thought Steve would give him a hard time and tease him but he was only helpful.

Although, when Bucky had moved on to asking where Natasha was tonight Steve had little information to share. He didn’t know if she was working or out with friends. It seemed suspicious because he knew how close the two were. His best friend knew something and he wasn’t sharing. He couldn’t press any further because Steve had to get off the phone. He was busy trying to get two teenagers  to finish their homework and get to bed.

He hears voices outside the door, his wife laughing and a man’s voice. His ears tune into it even more as he leans forward in his chair. He can hear them kissing and he knows why Steve wouldn’t tell him. Natasha had moved on and she was on a date. He couldn’t blame her, he was dead in this realm, and he didn’t tell her he was coming back to stay.

He pulls the door open and Natasha springs into action shoving her date out of the way and pulling a knife out of her boot. Believe or not, he had surprised her like this before and ended up stabbed. He’s ahead of her this time and pulls the knife from her hand. He holds his hands up defensively and smiles goofily at her. “It’s just me, your husband.”

Natasha punches him in the stomach. “You fucking bastard. You can’t just show up whenever you want.”

“Who’s the boy toy?” he asks pointing towards the man with his knife.

The look on Natasha’s face is hilarious and he would laugh but he didn’t want to end up poisoned later.

“Am I going to be murdered?” The man asks looking between the two.

Bucky does laugh this time, loudly and from the belly.

“Shut-up you idiot,” Natasha says shoving Bucky inside.

He sees the man heading quickly down the hall before he shuts the door.

“Do you think he’ll go on a second date?” Bucky asks before laughing.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” she says annoyed, dropping her things on a chair before heading towards her son’s room. Bucky grabs her arm and pulls her close. Encasing her in his arms and kissing her full lips.

And if you want, we'll share this life

Anytime you need a friend, I'm gonna be by your side

When nobody understands you, well I do

“I’m not leaving again,” he whispers against her lips, before kissing down her neck and across her collarbone. His hand pulling down her silky top and freeing a breast. Her fingers are running through his hair as his tongue teases at her pink nipple making it erect. His hands are finding the zipper of her dress. It falls into a pile around her feet. He’s kissing down her stomach, his hands sliding down her black lace underwear to pool around her ankles. Her back hits the wall and she’s spreading her legs and running her hands through his hair as his tongue makes contact.

So maybe maybe, let me hold you baby

Let me come over I would tell you secrets God only knows

I can not over state it, I will be overjoyed

Baby let me come over I would tell you secrets nobody knows

I can not over state it, I will be overjoyed

Yeah I will be overjoyed,

Oh I will be overjoyed!

--the italics are song lyrics from Overjoyed by Matchbox Twenty

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #winter widow #winter soldier #black widow #winter widow story #avengers endgame spoilers #avengers endgame #i miss nat #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #falcon #song fic #matchbox twenty

[aquariusganymede-2404]

Fanfiction Rwby AU When The Ice Turned Black Ch. 1

It was cold. Very cold.

Weiss had always liked the cold. It felt. . .comforting somehow.

But this cold was different. MUCH different from the natural cold air of the night that resides in her mansion. It was the experiment lab. This was a place that she knew but could not yet, not ever, get used too.

She flinched as she felt another needle working it's way into her arm. She waited for the dust to be injected into her veins, then suddenly convulsed.

She didn't know much about the 'operations'. But she knew that the new dust would make her stronger.  

"D-daddy." She sobbed. "I-It hurts." tears started streaming down her face in free fall.

She felt the needle in her other arm push water into her body. Weiss's father said it was to keep her 'hydoated' or something like that. It was a strange sensation. It felt sort of like drinking water but different. Weiss didn't really know how to describe the feeling.

"I know sweetie." Said Jacques Schnee from behind the wall of doctors.

No.

They weren't doctors. They where scientists who did nothing but cause her pain. Everyone wanted to hurt her.

Except her father.

Her father loved her.

If she could make it though this, her father would take her outside again. Oh, how she yearned for that snowy ground of her home in Atlas. So she pushed through it.

For him. And for the outside.

She attempted to force her body to endure the pain. Which did nearly nothing to help the pain.

But after long, her body started to move nomialy again.

"Sir! Her vitals have stabilized." Said one of the scientists. "Excellent! Looks like this 'Black Dust' is amazing in every way. I'm glad we increased the dosage." Said Weiss's father while patting the said scientist on the shoulder.

The scientist nodded and walked away. The C.E.O of the Schnee Dust Co. then walked over to his daughter. He crouched beside the table to which she was bound to. "You did great today my snowflake." He said patting her on the head.

Weiss turned to look at him. She didn't mean to, but she accidentally looked him in the eyes. There was nothing wrong with that of course. But whenever Weiss looked him in the eyes. . .she felt like she was looking at a different person completely. His eyes where too wide, too sharp, too crazy.

And what scared Weiss most of all, too knowing.  

"Thank you daddy." Weiss said smiling through the tears. She felt exhausted. Usually there would be a bit of pain and it would stop after spreading through her entire body. But this time the pain was much worse, and it felt like the electric shocks that they used for her endurance test every Monday.

"Say, it's your birthday tomorrow isn't it?" He said. Weiss smiled, happy that he remembered. "Yes!" she said moving to hug him. But only to find that she was still bound by leather shackles.

"As your present You'll go the whole day without 'Testing'." He said smiling. Weiss was delighted! She would have started to jump for joy if it weren't for. . .well you know.

Her father noticed this and stood up. "Let's get those dirty things off you shall we?" he undid all of her restraints allowing Weiss to move once again. Once he undid them he expected Weiss to sit up and try to hug him like she usually did.

But she did not.

He looked over to her chest, half expecting her to be dead. But her chest still pulsated along with her breathing.

Merely satisfied, he motioned for one of his servants to pick her up and take her to the next room.

Weiss felt something soft underneath her body. It was comfortable, relaxing. And it didn't feel anything like the lab table she usually spent her nights on.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she found herself sleeping on a bed. A real bed! It had been so long she had nearly forgotten what a bed felt like.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. She was in a large room full of furniture including a desk. A desk of all things! She had always wanted a desk more than anything. Ever since she saw her father's huge one her had in his office.

Why? Weiss didn't really know herself. They just seemed so amazing to her.

The floors where an ice blue color, matching the snow white color of the bed and chairs that sat in the corner of the room close to the desk.

Weiss looked up and found that the bed a an overhang supported by the bed posts. Directly adjacent to the bed sat a long dresser.

Weiss crawled out her new bed, feeling more refreshed than ever. Already bored of exploring she walked out of the room in only her night gown determined to explore. Feeling like Dorthy, exploring the land of Oz for the first time.

She wandered down the hall for a while before finding an open door. She slowly peeked through, wondering what other mysteries this place could hold.

She saw her father through the sliver of open door. Smiling, she ran to greet him with outstretched arms.

Suddenly, she stopped no longer smiling. Her father was kneeling before some man who had something that resembled a syringe in his hands. It was still pointing at him when her father noticed her open the door.

"Weiss! Run!" He screamed. Weiss suddenly jumped as she heard a loud bang coming from the small device. Then suddenly, her father, the most powerful man Weiss had ever known, was on the ground. Blood oozing from the hole in his chest.  

The sight of blood was all too familiar to her.

"Daddy?" Weiss said to her father who lay on the ground before her.

She felt frozen. Not quite petrified. But as if something was forcing her to keep still.

The man with the syringe thing quickly pocketed the tool and hurried to Weiss. "Kid! I'm here to save you. Come with me and you never have to feel pain from this bad man again."

He sounded. . .genuine. something Weiss had only heard by her sister from so long ago.

Weiss looked at his face.

It was so soft. So caring. So honest. Just like his baritone voice. She looked at his body and noticed his robotic arm and uniform that only a general of the Atlas Army would wear. "My name is James Ironwood. I'm here to rescue you."

He said that last part with uncertainty. As if he wasn't sure if Weiss could understand. . . No. He wasn't even sure if she could COMPREHEND human speech.

He held out his hand as if he wanted her to take it. "Let me show you the rest of the world."

Weiss felt herself sway. She always wanted to explore the world. To see beyond her mansion walls. And when her father woke up she would tell him all about her adventures. She could always come to visit and roam the halls of the mansion once again.

As she reached for his hand she felt something moving along the left side of her body.

She looked at her hand to see the black marking there. And suddenly her mind grew blank.

James' eyes widened in surprise before he was suddenly thrown backwards. He hit the wall hard and was thankful for his mechanical arm which took the majority of the impact.

He looked at Weiss quickly, already fearing the worst. Black markings have slivered up her arm and covered half of her face.

James cursed under his breath. He KNEW he shouldn't have hesitated when he first saw Jacques Schnee. He should have gone in there guns blazing and neutralizing the threat before she could see any of this.

Now he had to deal with this.

White glyphs appeared around him and James knew she was moving in for the kill. Small daggers of ice seemed to unsheathe within the glow and aiming to strike true.

He jumped straight up dodging the ice daggers. He rushed before Weiss and pulled a cloth from his coat pocket.

"Sorry." he said as he put the cloth against her mouth. Weiss tensed up in surprise before she relaxed and slumped to the ground.

James cradled her in his arms and ran to the entrance of the mansion. It was a long hall but James managed to make good time thanks to his military training.

"Winter!" He shouted. "I got her! Let's get out of here!" He said handing the unconscious heiress to her older sister.  

Winter brushed the hair out of Weiss's face."Thank the older brother." Winter said exasperated. "Did you set the charges sir?" Winter asked looking at the face of her general. "I did. And I assume everyone has been evacuated?" Winter nodded moving her attention back to Weiss

Weiss hung limp in her arms. She felt so fragile. As if she would break if Winter held her too tightly.

"I won't let anyone hurt you anymore." She said with a voice quivering with love and regret. James then hit the button on his detonator and ran with the intent to live.

Winter looked up with newfound determination in her eyes and ran to the air ship docked just outside of the infamous Schnee estate. She thought the place needed redecorating anyway.

#Rwby au #rwby #weiss schnee #jacques schnee #black dust #when the ice turned black #chapter 1

[leporibae]

explanation for absence

trigger warnings:  this post details domestic abuse and sorta home invasions, mentions/details an actual death and several expected/upcoming deaths, and mentions suicidal thoughts/tendencies.  please please please don't read this if you think it'll upset you in any way, I'd so much rather you just not know what's going on than be hurt by this post.

some of you may have noticed that I was gone for almost a month - probably only if you bought art from me and then I just vanished - so please allow me to explain myself.  I promise I'm not here trying to excuse myself, there's no excuse for leaving without a trace when I owe many people a lot of things.  I just need to explain why it happened, so it's a little more clear that I didn't just up and disappear on a whim, nor that this is something I experience/do a lot as an adult.

a lot went down over the month of August, and even more trash is hurtling my way for September.  I don't know how else to explain it all besides in bullet points, cause otherwise I'll probably get it so muddled that it'd be too hard to read.

Anne, my birth mom (who cheated on my stepdad and then moved out early last summer to live in an apartment a few minutes away from us), went ahead and married her boyfriend and is now moving to Stockholm, Sweden.  this wouldn't be as much of a concern to me if this didn't mean that she's been making every last-ditch effort to forcefully see me before she leaves.  I do not want to see her, I haven't spoken to her since April.  but my stepdad, Vince, isn't angry enough at her and doesn't give any shits about my mental health or well-being so he never bothered to change the locks and will even give her explicit permission to enter our house unannounced.  about a week ago, she and her new husband let themselves in to drop off all the furniture she took from our home to put in her apartment.  Vince told me she was only going to be in the garage, so when my plans for that day fell out from under me, I figured it'd probably be okay to just stay home alone upstairs.  (I would have left, but it was midday and I didn't really have anywhere to go - plus I had no idea how long they'd be there and even when.)  no, she barged into my home, SEARCHED for me, and then proceeded to spend AN HOUR AND A HALF taking furniture into our home her husband even though she was just supposed to leave all the furniture in the garage.  I wound up hiding in my brother's closet (my closet's too small to hide in, and any other spot would have been too obvious or in her line of sight) for the entire time.  it was horrifying, I kept thinking she'd find me and that I'd have to face her bullshit all over again in full force.

Anne also went ahead and let herself in THE NEXT DAY without telling anyone first, so I had no idea she'd waltz on in.  I was taking a nap midday when she must have come in, so she probably came into my fucking room and looked at me while I was sleeping.  the reason why she came, though, was to drop off a few extra things (I know she saved a few things to bring later on purpose so she could get more chances to find me at home again, that bitch) and to leave an incredibly guilt-trippy letter for me on the fridge.  I didn't even read it, I couldn't handle it.  instead, my aunt offered to read it for me and just let me know if there was any valuable information in the letter (there wasn't).

my dog, Zoomer, passed away three weeks ago.  if any of you remember late 2016/early 2017 when I thought I was going to lose my dog because he tore his ACL and my family thought we couldn't support his surgery/recovery, that's not the same dog.  that was Shadow, who is thankfully still with us today.  Zoomer was our first dog - we found him in a shelter back in 2005, and we adopted him for my brother's birthday that year.  he was barely a year old when we took him home, but even so, it's kind of incredible he lived to see 12, as he was a pretty small dog (Beagle/Border Collie mix) and his expected lifespan was 6 to 10 years at best had he stayed at the shelter much longer and subsequently been sent to a nearby puppy farm.  he was an incredible dog - where Shadow is very playful and silly, Zoomer was quiet, gentle, and very smart.  if I slept in, he'd always check on me in my room or even stay in my room until I woke up;  if you were sick, he'd lay next to you to keep you company.  maybe he wasn't as energetic as Shadow, but he was pretty cheeky, too.  if you threw the ball for Shadow, Zoomer (who never cared to play fetch) would sometimes watch Shadow wind up for the throw and then chase Shadow around - not the ball - to mess with him.  I miss him more than I could have imagined.  and I hate how he went, too - Vince found out a month prior that Zoomer had stomach cancer, but since the doctor said they couldn't do anything for him/that he wouldn't be in pain unless we put him on meds, he decided not to do anything.  he didn't tell me or Kenneth about it.  in the last few days Zoomer was with us, he was very sick, but Vince just told us he'd probably eaten a bird or something like he tended to do from time to time and he'd get over it the next day.  come the 25th of August, Vince woke me up early that morning to tell me Zoomer had just passed away in his arms a few hours ago, and explained what'd gone down.  Kenneth and I were devastated, especially since we didn't expect this whatsoever and we had no "last moments" with him.  what's worse was Vince hadn't taken Zoomer out to bury him or to the vet's office to take care of his body, so we came downstairs and there he was in the middle of the living room.  it was just-  I mean, he looked like himself, but when I went to pet him to say goodbye, it wasn't ... right.  I wish I could have told him how much he means to me and how much I love him before he passed.  of course I tell my pets these things regularly, and I was especially attentive to Zoomer's health/happiness while he was sick, but I wish I could have told him seriously ... I don't know how to explain it.  I wish he was still here with me.

I'm expecting the death of my birth dad, Andy, pretty soon here too.  my brother and I got the news that he was in the hospital with cancer a little while ago.  I don't think I've really talked about Andy here much, so I'll try to explain.  Andy's been addicted to drugs long since before Anne met him - his family was mostly to blame, as they - for whatever ungodly reason, because it wasn't like he was taking them medicinally - started him on weed and various other drugs at a very young age (10 or younger, if I remember correctly).  he's been fighting his addiction for most of his life now, and while it's not like he can't be held accountable for anything, Anne was the one who married a very unhealthy person who was by no means cut out to be a father and had me and my brother with him.  she divorced him when I was 4, and Andy tried so hard to be there for my brother and me as we grew up apart from him.  he called every single night to talk to us, and visited us as often as he could.  he made a lot of mistakes when I was around 10 to 13, though, and Anne took them as an opportunity to pit me against him like she'd do whenever she disliked someone that I liked.  she failed to explain to me the nature of severe addiction, nor that she was the one who, in her "right" mind, chose him to be the father of her children.  instead, she just told me that Andy chose drugs over his family, and that he was irresponsible and a bad caregiver not because he was suffering, but because he didn't care about us.  naturally, I was pissed, so I cut him out of my life.  Kenneth's stayed sort of in contact with him, just not nearly as much as before.  now that Anne's out of my life and I'm waking up to the abuse she put me through, such as poisoning my thoughts towards other people, I want to reach out to him before he passes away and let him know I'm sorry for what happened.  I'm not ready, though.  I'm in a terrible place right now, I don't think I'm strong enough to write both an apology and goodbye letter to someone I held so close to my heart for so long, someone who Anne ruined my relationship with as she did with so many other people in my life.  someone who I let Anne fuck with through me.  it's one thing that she did that with my friends, like when she'd make me think my friends hated me so I'd be home to spend more time with her instead of with people my age, but with my own father.  she didn't let me have him as a father, and she didn't let Vince be a father, either (not that Vince would have been a good father, but fuck, what can I have, bitch?).  I don't know what to do.  it sounds like he doesn't have much time left, but I don't think I can do it.

Vince keeps saying other people in my life are going to die soon, too.  he's a very morbid and dramatic person, though, so I have no idea how much truth his speculations hold - but he says Anne's going to kill herself this winter while she's up in Stockholm (she gets terrible seasonal depression, and she just cut everyone who knows how to help her when she's suffering from such depression out of her life), and that Shadow's going to die some time before the end of September.  I don't know what the fuck I'd do without Shadow, he's the only person in this house who makes me feel safe being here.  Kenneth, my brother, sorta helps, but because he has a father/son relationship with Vince, he doesn't know how to or want to be there for me when Vince acts abusively towards me.  but Anne?  I don't know how the hell I'm going to figure that one out.  holy shit.  I hate her so much, especially after having some time to realize just how much she abused me and her sisters and even my baby cousins, but she's still my mom.  not a day goes by where I don't think about her and how much I miss her or my friendship with her.  I know now just how insidious the nature of our relationship was and how she orchestrated it all so I'd just rely on her and no one else, but that doesn't change the fact that she was my only friend for many, many years of my life.  I hate Anne, but I love my mom.  if she dies before I can even begin to heal from what she did to me and without having any way to find closure with her, I don't know what I'll do.  god, I'm starting to cry just thinking about it, I have to move on from this.  not like anything else I have to talk about doesn't make me want to cry any less.

my best friend - and only friend, really - is moving next week.  if you follow me on dA or twitter especially, you KNOW how much I love @/ObsidianPunk (Cody).  like, there's no way you can't if you follow me there, because I spend at least half the time on those sites just raving about the time we spend together or just how much he means to me.  I love him so much, and spending time with him is maybe the last thing I have to look forward to these days.  I have no fucking clue what I'm gonna do when he no longer lives just 20 minutes away from me, when we can't have our impromptu sleepovers anymore, when we can't go on walks together and hit up Starbucks like the coffee/tea sluts we are, when I can't just show up at his house late at night to get some snacks and ask for advice from him for anything from how to deal with Kenneth being a little punk to Vince treating me like subhuman garbage to Anne trying to make me feel like I'm nothing without her to losing my friends who I'm just not interesting/fun enough for to how to not seek out the easiest way to end my life.  go dthat sounds so fucked up, but Cody's there for me through it all.  no matter if I just want to talk about video games and transgay(TM) stuff or if I need to be honest about how much I'm hurting right now, he's got my back.  I don't want him to leave, not only because I want to have the chance to be there for him even a sliver as much as he's there for me, but because sure we have texting and face time and all, but I always miss him terribly whenever he leaves for just a week to visit his dad's house.  I want him to go to Oregon, to live somewhere he can be out and accepted and treated with the respect he deserves.  I want him to have a great time in school and start building a great future for himself.  I want him to be out of the shit house he has to live in with his terrible family, but I don't want to be without him, you know?

school's starting for me, too.  I'm at a little community college for the time being simply because it's so much cheaper than UNO - the school I attended last year - both because of the tuition and because of gas/parking/etc expenses.  I want to get back to UNO sooner than later, but when I go, I want to be living on campus rather than living at home.  in the mean time, I want to get some gen eds out of the way and get back into the swing of taking classes before I go to a more expensive school (where I'd have to be taking 15 credit hours if I wanted to live on campus).  it's not ... so bad.  mostly, I'm just panicked because I don't believe in myself at all so I'm so sure I'll get there and fail horribly or that I won't even be able to get myself out the door because I'm so fucked up right now.  my aunt's trying her hardest to help me out with getting me there and keeping me on top of school, but I wouldn't be surprised if I fucked up community college even with the help of like ten other people.  I fucking hate myself lmao

that's ... about it, I think.  I'm really sorry for the pity party there, but I just really want to convey that me leaving with no warning isn't a common thing for me to do, nor is it something I take lightly.  what all this means is I'm going to do my very best to come back ASAP - not only because I feel horribly guilty for falling behind on commissions/owed work, but because I desperately need that financial support, too.  I'm so sorry for any scare I might have put buyers through with my absence.  if anyone wants a premature refund, please feel free to contact me, and I'd be more than happy to work through that for you this time around.  otherwise, I can't give you a definite timeline for when I'll be able to get back on my regular schedule of completing art within a few days or at most a week of buying, but I'm going to try my very hardest for you - that I can guarantee.

I'll come back to answer individual messages/etc tomorrow, but for now, writing this has drained me so much, I just need to lay down for a while.

#chatterbox #tw: abuse #tw: death mention #tw: suicide mention #PSA