#holds him gentle in my hands like a hamburger <3

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Congratulations on getting your cat back!

OH MY GOD A KITTY!!!!!

KOZZAX HE IS WONDERFUL I AM GRABBING HIM IN BOTH HANDS AND SQUISHING HIM LIKE A STRESS TOY <3 MY TINY BLOOD COVERED KITTY BOY!!!!

#qsmp #OH KOZZAX HE IS LOVELY #MY CAT MY KITTY <3 #GIVING U ONE MILLION KISSES ON THE FOREHEAD #holds him gentle in my hands like a hamburger <3 #grabbing him with my teeth and flinging him around like a chew toy <3 #friend tag :3

[behidethetrees]

HOLD MY HEART, ITS BEATING FOR YOU ANYWAY.

IN WHICH… You’re ethans dream girl!

Pairing: Ethan landry x Fem! Reader

Contents: non-gf! Ethan, Reader is bffs with Tara and Anika <3, Chad is definitely Ethan’s biggest hypeman, This is set in the 2000s!!

THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! my blog got deleted so I have to re-upload all my fics :( but nonetheless enjoy!!

HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR YEAR 2005 ;

Ethan has had his eye on you for a while.

Since junior year of high school when you asked him for the algebra notes, he's been completely infatuated with you. He had daydreamed about you and everything he would do for you once you became his.

He was so sure you two would tie the knot soon that he started to plan your future together. He dreamed about having a big house with two cats, a good-paying job so he can spoil you, maybe even kids. But he couldn't have any of that if he hadn't talked to you yet.

he decided to take matters into his own hands, He was going to talk to you. He thought of all the different ways he would approach you But every time he tried, Once he got close enough to you, he would always back down because of how nervous you made him.

Ethan felt as if you were getting farther from him Until one day when you asked for the notes again…

"I- uhm, can tutor you if you want." Ethan blurts out

"tutor me? You think I'm stupid?" you said in that sickly sweet voice of yours which, at that moment, didn't feel all too sweet.

"NO!, oh God uhm-no that's not what I meant. I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that, It's just uh we have a test soon so I didn't know if-" Ethan started to ramble. He had fantasized about you for too long to let you slip away. He wasn't going to let it happen.

"I'm just fucking with you, here's my number." you laugh as you tear a piece of paper from your notebook and grab Ethan's pen from his hand.

Ethan was sure he was seeing hearts around his vision. Ethan had made YOU laugh, Ethan's heart was pumping out of his chest. As you handed him the paper, smiled, and thanked him he had to force himself not to kiss you right then and there.

Every tutor session ended with you two just talking and getting to know each other. Ethan studied you. he memorized what you liked, didn't like, your favorite foods, the shows you liked, everything you told him he would remember.

As you two became closer, Ethan became more and more devoted to you. You two went shopping? He’d carry your bags. Out for food? He’d pay. Simply walking towards a door? He’d hold the door open for you. You had started to consider Ethan a best friend and that made Ethan's stomach hurt with excitement.

When you introduced Ethan to the group, of course, Chad took a quick liking in him, So much so they're now roommates at Blackmore. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Chad at first. How close you guys were, how comfortable, How much trust you put in him, Everybody loved Chad and his personality, Chad had a higher chance of being with you than Him Ethan thought, and something about that made Ethan's jaw clench harder every time, But he would never admit this.

BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, SOPHMORE YEAR 2008;

When you got that text from Ethan, Tara grabbed your pink flip phone and freaked out.

“Oh my god! y/n you HAVE to accept this!” Tara yelled as she grabbed your shoulders and shook you.

“Why this restaurant though? Why does he want to go that far out for food?” You said with too much obliviousness that it hurt everyone in the room.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Anika started “ He likes you! He's taking you to a fancy dinner to tell you, There's no other reason why he would want you to go that far out for a hamburger!”

“I don't think he does though, I think he likes that girl in our econ class” You said, The thought of that makes your heart hurt. You had liked ethan for awhile, He was so kind and attentive, If you asked him for help, He would be there in a heartbeat. He treated you with so much respect and gentleness you knew no one else could give you like he did.

“Jill? Are you kidding? You're so blind.” Tara says “Well he looks at her sometimes-” You start getting defensive.

“She sits in front of him Y/N. I promise you he doesn't like her, if he does he's an idiot!” Tara yells.

Anika agrees with a loud yeah!

“Whatever but I still don't think he likes me, we're just friends.” In your gut, you knew that was a lie but you kept telling yourself it wasn't.

“He has heart eyes every time he looks at you y/n. He's definitely in love with you.” Anika said, Tara laughs.

The whole afternoon Tara and Anika helped you get ready and pick out what to wear. You all decided on a y/f/c colored dress with some dark shoes. Tara straighten your hair and Anika did your nails and picked out your perfume.

“He's gonna be more in love with you than he already is!” Tara says, You laugh as Tara and Anika hug you.

Ethan was sitting in the booth of a fancy restaurant that was quite the drive from Blackmore. Chad had finally convinced Ethan to ask you out and when you agreed, Chad's plan was finally in motion. Ethan smelled like Chad's cologne and was dressed in expensive clothes Chad had brought him, a baby blue collared shirt with grey dress pants. Ethan's curls were somehow curlier and out of his face, he looked like a ‘million bucks’ according to Chad.

As you walk in you noticed a group of three sitting to the left of the entrance, All dressed in black, sunglasses, and their hair covering their faces, One of them looked like Anika, You almost laughed. What you didn't notice was Ethan's eyes going wide as he saw you walk in. How his blood started rushing and his heart was about to explode.

“Hey y/n!’ Ethan awkwardly gets up from his seat, He puts his hands on your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Hey Ethan.” you say as you lean into his touch, placing your arms around his neck. It was a short but an effective hug. You too, were now nervous.

As Ethan lets go, You exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You sat across from Ethan and looked at the menu, but Ethan didn't. Ethan was looking at you. Admiring you. How focused you were, how your eyebrows moved up a bit if you saw something that looked good, how you played with your silver ring, taking it off and putting it back on your finger.

“ I think I want to try this, Ethan are you looking?” you ask as you move the menu to show Ethan, “ Are you okay?” You noticed Ethan was just staring down.

“I uhm, need to tell you something.” Ethan says softly. Was he really about to do this?

“Oh okay” Ethan saw you fidget with your ring again, He knew you were just as nervous as he was.

Ethan looked down at his hand to remember what to say- oh crap, Ethan's black ink was smudged from washing his hands. Ethan cursed himself in his head for being so dumb. Ethan breathed in deeply, trying not to panic. What was he supposed to say now?

Ethan picked up his head but avoided making eye contact with you, But you on the other hand were looking right into his hazel eyes that still somehow shined even in the dimed lights.

“I don't know if this is weird because we're friends and I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” Ethan starts, He knew this wasn't the best way to start but he didn't know what else to say. “If you don't feel the same that's okay, And if you don't want to be friends after this thats fine too-” Ethan is stalling.

“Ethan what are you saying?” You knew what was coming but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Its nothing bad! I just uhm, like you.” Ethan mumbles while scratching his face.

“What?” You heard him, You just wanted him to say it again.

“ I like you y/n, I've liked you for so long it's making me crazy.” Ethan's mouth begins to move faster than his brain. “ I've loved you ever since I've known you and- and I've tried to show you, The best days of my life revolve around you, it's always been you.” Ethan doesn't notice that you get up and start to walk to his side of the booth.

“ I’d do anything you want, I already do everything you want and I'm sorry if this is weird but your all I want-” You grab Ethan's hand from his lap as you sit next to him, Now he notices.

“Ethan how could i not like you? Youre like, the best person ive ever met.” You make sure he looks you in your eyes so he knows you really mean it.

“ You have so much kindness and patience and i admire that so much, You make me feel loved.” You say as you lean in to kiss him. Ethan was caught off guard but slowly he grabs your hips as you place your hand on the side of his arm. It was a long passionate kiss filled with years of yearning and love for each other.

As you began to pull away you see the same 3 weird people from the other table in front of you.

“Tara?!” It was Tara, Anika, and Chad dressed up, Anika Was recording.

“Is it official?” Tara asks with excitement. You and Ethan looked at each other before smiling and turning to the others and nodding.

Immediately Tara grabs you out of the booth and hugs you so tight you felt like you couldn't breathe, Anika also joining in. Chad and Ethan do their handshake they’ve practice for over a year, this time they perfected it.

“Dinner is on me!” Chad yells.

A/N; Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed!

Requests

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #jack champion #scream imagine #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fic #jack champion fic #jack champion x reader

[tkachukz]

Those Green Eyes - Trevor Zegras

summary: When you feel torn apart after your breakup and find comfort in a green-eyed unknown hockey player

(part 1 of 2 -or 3-)

words: 2,1 K

Your life could come down to a tightrope. 

Fresh from a journalism degree and with an entirely uncertain life ahead of you, without a home, without a job and with your family living in another state, you felt the need to have something stable. Anything.

And that's what Jake, your high school sweetheart, was to you. Until now.

You couldn't hold back the tears when he said right to your face that you'd become routine, you weren't fun anymore, and that he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with you, neither another minute.

 You got into the first taxi that had the decency to stop for a disheveled and sobbing girl, asking him to move on to a destination you didn't even know. Getting out of town might be the best thing? But go where? You lived with Jake, meaning you didn't have a home of your own. Your parents were miles away, and you didn't want to look like a failure.

The taxi stopped because of the traffic jam and you looked to the side, facing a huge arena, and a line of cars leaving. Probably this was the only part of Anaheim that would get this busy this late.

“I'll be down, thanks” tired of waiting for the taxi to go and desperate for some space and air, you got out, running through the crowd to the parking lot.

A small bench under a street light was empty and you allowed yourself to cry there.

Jake had been your first everything, the only piece of stability you thought you needed, there for you at all times, and now he was gone, and you were alone. Once again.

Noise of breaking branches caught your attention, but you didn't bother to lift your face, continuing with your head down hugging your knees.

"Are you ok?" a gentle male voice sounded, moving a little closer, stepping in front of the street light.

You gave in to curiosity and lifted your head, bumping into a beautiful pair of green eyes, staring at you with concern.

“I'm fine” your voice came out as a whisper.

He analyzed you for a few more seconds, as if looking for visible injuries, if only he could see your broken heart.

“Well, despite your very convincing answer” he began “I think I'll stay here for a while” he sat down on the bench beside you, keeping a respectable distance.

“I don't need you to stay here.”

“Who said I'm here for you? This is the best place to see stars” he said pointing to the sky, which made you drop a small smile “is it a mini smile I see?”

You turned your face away from the green-eyed boy, pressing your lips together to contain your reluctant smile.

“I'm Trevor, by the way” out of the corner of your eye, you saw the outstretched hand.

With a sigh, you allowed yourself to look at the green-eyed boy, who had an amused smile "I'm Yn" he shook your hand gently.

"Pleased to meet you Yn" he went back to looking at the stars in silence.

After a few minutes, your desperate crying subsided, giving way to small sobs. Trevor remained silent, focused on the immensity of the night, watching you from the corner of his eye without you noticing.

A long sigh left your mouth and you looked up "this really is a great place to see the stars".

Trevor agreed with a smile "you know what's better than seeing stars?"

"What?"

"A hamburger"

You couldn't help but laugh and Trevor felt satisfied seeing that he made you laugh.

"Are you hungry? I know a great place!” he jumped off the bench, looking at you hopefully.

“I just met you Trevor, and you already expect me to get in the car with you?”

“Who said car? The arena has an exceptional burger joint. I swear"

“The arena is closed” you said as if it were obvious, and Trevor smirked.

"There are no doors that hold me, my dear."

*

Ignoring your fear of possible arrest for trespassing and theft, you followed Trevor in a brisk walk to the side door of the arena. As you approached, a large security guard looked at you, and when you were ready to turn around, Trevor spoke confidently.

“She's with me” and like magic, the security guard opened the door.

You kept following the green eyed boy starting to question who he was.

His hair was combed back just below his ear. He had a nice nose, and wore a leather jacket, walking casually with his hands in his pockets.

He led you all the way through the winding interior of the arena, for some reason running away from a few groups of fans that were still around.

“Tandam!” he opened his arms pointing to a small restaurant.

"It's closed??"

His smirk widened, and he continued walking toward the -closed- establishment.

A middle-aged woman was at the register, and her eyes sparkled at his approach.

“Trevor my little one, what are you doing here?? I thought you were gone hours ago!”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter “some unforeseen things happened, I know it's late but, could you make two more hamburgers? My friend is hungry"

He nodded at you, and the woman turned her large eyes to stare at you.

“Hi” you waved shyly, hugging your body without even realizing it.

“But of course!! Two hamburgers coming out. And it was nice meeting you sweetie” that last part was directed at you.

Hundreds of questions raced through your mind in a matter of priority, but you couldn't voice any before the food arrived. Trevor paid for both of them, picking up all the bags and heading in the opposite direction of the door.

"This way."

“But isn’t the exit over there?”

"I know, and that's why we're going this way."

You looked around "Trevor, the arena is about to close, we can't stay here."

The side smile appeared again “trust me, and follow me”.

After some corridors and stairs, he opened the door to a balcony, with privileged seats for ice, television, a pool table and various other things. Trevor grabbed some sodas from the freezer and sat down at the table, taking a desperate bite of his hamburger.

“Sorry, I'm starving. Sit down, Yn, this is great, you won't regret it!”

Your arms were crossed, still trying to understand why you were there and not behind bars for trespassing. Did he own the arena?

Trevor noticed your confusion and let out a small amused smile "You don't watch hockey do you?"

"What does it matter?"

“That's a no, right?”

You nodded impatiently and Trevor chuckled, taking a sip of his soda.

“I play here. I mean, on the hockey team here. This arena is like my second home.”

Your eyes popped out “are you a hockey player? Really?"

“Don't I look like a hockey player?” he had an offended look.

“Well, all the pictures of hockey players I can remember are giant, bald guys with missing teeth. You look like you have all your teeth.”

Trevor's laugh was loud, and he gave you a delighted "well, I guess I can't be offended that you think I'm too cute to play hockey."

Your cheeks flushed with a smile. 

He pointed to the chair across from him and you sat down, feeling your stomach rumble as you opened the burger.

“Best burger in Anaheim yes or of course?”

You nodded, your mouth too full to speak, and he chuckled.

“So, Trevor” you had some soda “hockey player. Why did not you say it before?"

He shrugged “I'm a mystery guy” he leaned back in his chair having already finished his food, while you were halfway done.

“It would have avoided moments of apprehension. I was afraid of being arrested.”

“Why would you be arrested?”

“For invading the arena?” you said it like it was obvious and he laughed.

“I needed to know you weren't going to use me for my money and fame” it was your turn to laugh and he chuckled “hey!”

*

Having finished the hamburgers, you sat down on the chair in the cabin. Most of the stands were dark, but the ice lights alone lit up the entire place. You watched the zamboni clearing the ice, moving from corner to corner, sure of its work.

Your mind clouded and reality came back to you little by little. No home, no Jake, no future. A heavy sigh left your lips and you heard Trevor walk over, taking the chair next to you.

“When I was a kid I had a little dog” he started also staring at the ice “once I was walking him I accidentally released him from the leash. He fled into the middle of the forest and disappeared. I don't think I've ever cried so much. I looked for him day and night for three days until I found him. It's amazing. This story manages to combine one of the saddest moments of my life with one of the happiest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you broke the silence, not taking your eyes off the green-eyed boy.

Trevor shrugged "I thought if I shared something personal about me, you'd feel free to share what made you so sad."

He stared back at you for milliseconds, but now it was your turn to stare at the ice.

“My boyfriend dumped me” you let out a sad sigh “I know it sounds silly but, I really thought he was the right guy you know? I already had it all planned out. I majored in journalism, him with his company. We would get married in the future, we would have a house, children... is it too much to want that? Jeez, we've been dating for so many years, and overnight he just says he's tired of me?”

Trevor watched you intently, compassion seeping through his body. He tentatively put his hand on your back, afraid to cross a line, but that was the kind of affection you wanted most at that moment.

So you hugged him.

Even a little surprised, Trevor held you tight, bringing you closer. You buried your head in his neck and he continued to gently rub your back.

You lost track of how many minutes passed. Trevor respected your time and all he did was hug you. 

It was disconcerting to remember that you had almost just met him.

You pulled away a little, taking a deep breath wanting the crying to stop. Trevor still kept his hand on your back, and gently wiped away a small tear that was running down your cheek.

“I'm sorry for this. That has to be the last thing you would want to be doing on a day like today.”

“I admit that seeing you cry is really not a nice thing. But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here” he looked at you intensely.

You take a deep breath.

“I think you need to relax,” he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Relax. What are you going to do this weekend?”

You laughed, remembering that you didn't even have a place to spend the night "my schedule of plans is being reworked at the moment".

“I'm going to Florida for All Star Weekend, want to come with me?”

“Oh sure” you laughed but something in his eyes said he was serious “are you serious?”

"Yes. I have a game there, some events, I promise to bring you back safe and sound in three days”.

"I... I can't..."

“What stops you?”

This question made you reflect. 

What held you here? In Anaheim or anywhere? 

Your plans had been crushed with a hammer, what prevented you from crossing the country with a nice -and very handsome- hockey player?

“I accept” the idea began to make sense.

"It is serious??" Trevor jumped up excitedly.

“Sounds like a cool plan” you said smiling.

“No, you're not going to make plans miss” he grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet “I make the plans, your only mission is to have fun”.

“Ok captain” you said with a genuine smile.

At those words, Trevor's hand on your back tightened. The urge to pull and kiss you was screaming in his head, but the other voice recognized how fragile you were, and he would feel like an asshole if he took advantage of that.

He took his hand from your back, scratching his head sheepishly.

This was not the right time.

But, who knows what such a trip might bring.

 *

 *

 *

Part two comes out by the end of the week!

Thanks for reading!!  :))

I would love to read your comments, suggestions, criticisms, or what you expect from this trip (you can send requests if you want)

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #matthew tkachuk

[naffeclipse]

*hands you a smol baby mer!Eclipse who's waiting so patiently for his Y/N to feed him*

(I'm planning on rereading In Deep Dreams Between the Waves <3)

GASP A BABY

His sad little eyes—Y/N needs to feed the little mer now!

*holds him gentle like hamburger* Thank you Lumi!! I am treasuring the baby mer!clip with all my might ;-;

(Ahhh enjoy the reread through!! ♥)

#lumi i am smooching you on the head #*smooch* #luminitewrites #in deep dreams between the waves #in deep dreams between the waves fanart #mermaid!eclipse

[whumpy-wyrms]

Hello hi! Just read the newest chapter and I am Insane

I saw the update and I was so excited I nearly dropped my phone, I was almost normal enough to read it when I saw the wing whump tag, the crowd went insane and it ended up taking nearly 15 minutes for me to start actually reading.

I am insane, your writing is so beautiful.

(This is just me reacting to the entire fic I'm sorry (no I'm not), you don't have to respond to this one)

Anton, the wet cat of a man, watching the trees for an hour each day and counting that as touching grass enough.

He deserves immortality, I think he should get it, he can be trusted yes.

Hjshjshsjsgsjhsjshjshj he's being accommodating with the lights and the textures my heart- (we stan the tisms supporting the tisms)

"But hey, it's for science!" My Absolute Beloved, Anton can do whatever he wants to do he deserves it.

When the when the when the when the autistic wet cats of men communication (Anton and Dew talking at any given time)

The flinch going to the table >>>>>>>

THE LYING ON THE FRONT >>>>>>>>>>>> OHOHOHO YES

GLOWING GREEN LIQUID IN A COMICALLY LARGE SYRINGE YESSSSSSSSSSSSDHSHSFFHSDHHSHKDJFHSHDSJJ i am so normal about this i swear

The descriptions are so beautiful and vivid, have I mentioned I love your writing?

The Cloth Gag Yes

I just had to put my phone down for a second at that line woa I'm not usually one for duct tape gags, but this may have changed my mind on that front

When the man is in Pain and the other man is sat Criss-Cross Apple Sauce

He is in pain for weeks oh my with only Anton for company oh my he is going as insane as I am

He is Breaking someone get him a plushie this is beautiful I am handing him a chicken plushie because he is

the wings The Wings THE WINGS THE WINGS THE WINGS THE WINGS THE WINGS THE WINGS THE

YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE

HE IS IN SO MUCH PAIN HE DESERVES A COOKIE

He is Breaking poor guy ohno

""I'm tired of being scared of you,"" I Am On My Knees Good Sir I Didn't Need My Heart Anyways It's Okay

I am holding him so gentle

A lil kiss on the forehead if he's okay with that

Hold lab birb gentle like hamburger

I am giving him a week's paid holiday somewhere maybe just home for a bit (oh wait that's the lab now isn't it :3 )

What's the Anton doin

A COOKIE

YEASSSS

THE BOI GOT ONE YIPPEE

I was going to say give Dew a weighted blanket but I guess he has one already huh

"maybe four weeks? Fuck, that was insane." I'LL TELL YOU WHO ELSE IS INSANE OVER THIS

"keeping Dew from moving an inch away from his captor?"

Damn that line. Someone fetch me my fainting couch. I must be dramatic and think of this line often.

Anton you're not the birb here why are you cooing

"excusing Dew's mention of his old life just this once" Dew should slip up :3 as a treat :333

Anton is but a silly guy. A harmless, silly guy.

He has never done anything wrong ever. I support Anton's rights and wrongs. But he has not done wrongs. He is so. He is a little guy, ur honour. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants in life.

Birb instincts *sounds of wait hold on wait I need a minute wait*

Dew's got wings now yay :3

Also his clone doing his own top surgery is even better.

Have a good 24 hours!!!! I'm going to go try to be a little less insane about this I swear (difficulty impossible)

Also I wrote the live react thing in a word doc and it ended up 661 words long! Sorry for so much!

AHHH KJDFGSJGF TYSM I LOVE GETTING ASKS LIKE THESE!!!

A CHICKEN PLUSHIE FOR DEW OMG im definitely gonna draw that now :))

Anton and Dew are both silly little guys living in our silly minds rent free

us when Anton does Anything: its okay he was just feeling silly :3

anyway i was giggling kicking my feet the whole time reading this,, these asks make me so happy :) its still such a surreal feeling having people react to my writing and ocs this way AHHHAJSKDGAKJ this means So Much to me you don’t understand. thanks so much again for the support it makes me so happy people like my writing and characters!!!!! :)

#ask #this makes me so happy #working on chapter 6 right now #and maybe a little comic based on it who knows #we can all be insane about my blorbos together #thanks again for reading :) #sorry it took a while to respond to this ksjdghjsf #im so happy my ocs can make someone else react this way #tllr ask

[themichaelvan]

[ID: A digital, colored drawing of an original character, Dr Harold Reams. He is a slightly chubby black man with vitiligo on his face and dark brown kinky hair. His hair is partially in locs and partially loose in a very messy manner. He's wearing a red turtleneck, black dress pants, and plain socks. He's sitting in an office chair with his feet up on a table. One arm is partially covering his face so the viewer can't see his eyes while the other arm is hanging down. The table his feet are on also has a pair of glasses and hearing aids set off to the side. The table, chair, and background are all colored in various shades of red-pink. End ID/]

@gmilfwhore holding him in my hands gentle like hamburger... very fun pose practice. give him a break he deserves it <3 (feel free to use anywhere as long as you link back to my tumblr ty)

#MY ART 💥 #im practicing with image descriptions so if anyone sees smth off with it please lmk 👍 #also for the other ppl who requested stuff i canNOT guarantee they will come out looking like this i didn't even anticipate this much effor

[thesacredtwink]

23 with Hyrule. make it as angsty as you possibly can. :3

GLADLY.

HYRULE IS LIKE THE ONE CHARACTER IN ALL MY FANDOMS THAT I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM TURNING INTO HUMAN HAMBURGER. SO LETS DO THIS

----

His fingers scrape the ground to find some sort of purchase, but the hard stone is unyielding and all it does is rasp another layer of skin off of Hyrule’s abused digits. His legs trail uselessly behind him, one bent at an unnatural angle, but not even the pain of the broken femur is enough to stop the Traveler from trying to crawl his way forward.

A solid boot to the center of his back stops what little forward progress Hyrule was able to achieve, and the pressure forces air and blood from his lungs.

Face down on the floor, he coughs in an attempt to keep from drowning in a puddle of his own blood, and when the leather gloved hand threads its fingers through his hair and lifts his head upwards, its almost a relief.

Almost, but not quite because the action brings into sight the crumpled forms of eight other men.

Slowly, the hand holding his head up rotates so that Hyrule can see them all, their chests barely moving and eyes that flutter somewhere around wakefulness and unconsciousness. The prone form of Four doesn't move at all.

With a violent jerk, Hyrule is flipped onto his back and his head collides with the ground with a crack. His vision swims for a moment, and in the confusion a face presses close to his.

“Nobody is coming to save you,”

A knife, slender and shining is presented to the disoriented hero, and Hyrule has just enough lucidity left to recoil from the object.

“But there is nothing in the Magicians writings that say you have to be dead for this either.”

The hand returns, this time grabbing Hyrule by his collar and dragging him towards the center of the room where a pedestal and urn stand. He is hoisted to his feet, and when it becomes clear that the Traveler cannot support his own weight, two people, cloaked and hooded, emerge from some unseen room and hold Hyrule.

Looking down, the brunet is just able to make out the contents of the ceramic jar. Ash, fine and silvery sit innocuously in the vessel, and Hyrule has just enough time to whisper a soundless apology to Aurora and Dawn when the blade from earlier is pressed to his neck.

Compared to the abuse he has already been subjected to, the fine line that is cut into his skin is gentle. But when the drops of blood land in the powder, Hyrule swears he hears the earth itself groan.

“Long live Ganondorf.”

#Whump #major character injury #whumpster prompts #whump writing ask game #hyrule linked universe #linked universe #blood #broken bones #semi graphic descriptions of injury #angst #MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA #Hyrule is my favorite punching bag and the rest of the chain was collateral #my writing #hurt no comfort #@mayonakaotsumami

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

#tw drugs #tw swearing #tw cannibalism #tw crime #tw food #tw homophobia #shitpost #out of context #out of context quotes #lumi's quotes

[iphoenixrising]

I did not expect people to want more of the thing *shrugs* 

Thank-you for the comments on my assholery with cliff hangers @txbookeater​, I love you too babe <3. So much love to electra-iphigenie, emjalen, ships-lover, and @chibinightowl​ for talking up that post. Based on this thing. Warning for triggering themes. Be aware of good boyfriending, kink negotiations, and mentions of past sexual assault. 

Proceed at your own risk 

He takes in a breath, blank for a second, his brain catching up. “Could it possibly be in the bathroom before I get in a nice, hot shower? Followed by a few hours of unconsciousness? That would be really amazing right about now.”

Deflection is an art form, and he really is a master.  He shrugs off his bag, gives him an opportunity to turn away, aware of eyes and how he’s dragging ass, feeling off and irritable. His brain doesn’t have to keep moving from one thing to the next, and things are slowing down. A shudder runs like cold fingers down his spine.

“I think I’d rather ya do it right here, Tim,” and there’s no Sweets, Baby, or any other endearments to make this easier on him. Nope. 

(It’s fine. Breathe. Just some bruises. They’ve seen worse, had worse. They’re all adults here.)

“Jay, I am tired–” “You’re looking shaky, a little strung out.” Dick, at least, makes it gentle. “And I saw it already, so we both know. I’d rather see the damage without your shirt in the way.” “Then, we’re gonna talk ‘bout why ya didn’t tell us right away.” “Mmhm, we might need to have another talk about the rules when we play.” “You’re blowing this out of proportion,” he argues gently, rubbing his hands and wrists because his fingers are tingling. “We had a play date, and by the time I was getting...you know, sore, I was already at work, you were on patrol–” “You didn’t say a word about it to me,” Dick cuts in, “and you absolutely should have. Now, I’m wondering if you really do know your limits, and if I can trust you enough to stop us when you need to.” “I...I didn’t–” yes. Yes I did.

It’s as simple as breathing in too sharply, his ears suddenly ringing, and there’s rubber in his mouth, his teeth probably cutting into it, and it hurts. Normally, he’s okay with rough and multiple rounds, loves how they get when they need control, to feel like there’s something in their hands that can’t just be taken away. 

He gets it. Loves that their go-to outlet for it...is him. 

Even if he can’t come again, it still usually feels amazing, and crazy in his brain because they want him this much. Really, he loves them. 

(The bell clenched in his fist is making an indent in his palm. His chest constricts, just like last time, but he can at least gasp through the holes in the gag. So he doesn’t need to drop it. He wants to. It hurts and he wants to, but he doesn’t. He can take it. He’s had worse. This is for them.) 

Neither of them noticed it had gone from amazing to uncomfortable to painful, and he didn’t drop the bell. He didn’t tell them to stop, so really, it’s on him isn’t it?

Bile rushes up his throat, bringing him back to the very real present where Dick and Jay are suddenly really close, and he realizes he’s just sitting in Dick’s lap, shaking like a leaf.

His face is wet, his chest hitching. 

He doesn’t puke, so that is about a million points.

But, he is absolutely falling the utter fuck apart and that just isn’t conducive to his attempt at coming home to snuggle and pass out in blissful unconsciousness.

(This is his life. Seriously.)

“Shit, shit, shit,” the first attempt to move is right out the window because he’s on octopus hold lockdown.

(On one hand it feels nice to be held. On the other, he can’t escape and it feels restrictive, stifling, terrifying.)

“Hey, hey, Baby. Lookey here. That’s it, that’s good.” Jay is rubbing palms up and down the top of his calves, up to his knees and down to his ankles. He’s talking low and gentle. “I’m going ta the kitchen, n’ getcha some water. Then, we’re gonna talk ‘bout what’s doing, you feel me? If me and Dickie are gonna be able ta take care a’ ya, then we gotta know what’s in yer head.”

He’s breathing too hard, too fast, his hearing spotty at best.

“Ssshhh. You’re having a panic attack, Timmy. You’re hyperventilating, so I need for you to calm down now, okay?” 

Then Dick’s chest is under his tingling fingers, and the exaggerated breathing helps him slow it down, take back some of the control over his body.

He doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out or puke, so the day is looking up. 

The absurdity of that thought it the thing that really makes him laugh, the sound hoarse, choked. 

“Okay, okay, you’re doing good, Timmy, just stay with me,” and he didn’t notice when Dick started rocking back-and-forth in a soothing motion, or when Jay got back and slid a hand around the nape of his neck.

He’s still shaky as fuck, curled up against Dick’s warmth, and fuck is he cold and wrung out. It feels like a high fever, joints achy, brain foggy, reaction time slow.

“...it’s a fucking drop, Dick. Look at ‘im!” “I’ve never heard of a delayed response like this.” “Knew we shoulda waiting ta scene. He went right from bed ta the pressure cooker, Dick.” “I should have picked up on it when I went to see him.” “S’all right, least we know what ta do now,” and Jay bends, pulls and lifts him like he isn’t a full grown man, pulling him in tight. “Need ta getcha all warm n’ snuggled, don’t we, Baby?”

Dick is throwing back the covers, but Tim doesn’t want to get in bed, not smelling like antiseptic and and bleach, but being warm, being able to hide his face in the pillow is really appealing.

He nods in Jay’s shoulder and lets just the scrub top be pulled off, leaving him in the nerd shirt underneath. He’s glad for it, already vulnerable, cold, shaky.

A straw to his mouth from no where and water before hands are helping him scoot over gingerly in the middle before flopping down on his good side with two warm vigilantes like bookends. Gentle circles on his back while Dick snakes an arm under his head, pulls him closer. 

“All right, that’s better.”

That hand hits a tender spot, and the flinch is automatic. “Sorry, Timmy. Once yer all warm, we’ll lookit how bad, yeah? Gonna lemme see, and it’s gonna be all right. S’ just me n’ Dickie.”

It’s awful because the two wrapped around him is fucking close to perfect and he isn’t feeling as shitty as he was at the ominous picture they made when he first walked in, and yeah, yeah, maybe it was stupid to try hiding it from them. He’s fuzzy about it, but he’s pretty sure that’s a rule somewhere in the Do’s and Don’ts for Playtime talk. 

He probably going to get a lecture. Possibly two.

“Sorry,” he finally says, voice stronger because his throat doesn’t feel like raw hamburger anymore. “I...that wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t know why it was bad, but I’m s–”

“The only thing that would make me angry right now is if you apologize again,” Dick follows it up with scritches to take the sting out of it. “Something triggered you to have a severe drop, Timmy, and if you could tell us what happened, it would help us to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Can you understand that? We need to know so we don’t accidentally hurt you?”

He goes still and his chest hurts just a little.

“I...I should have safeworded out,” it hurts to say, “I sh-should have dropped it, but I thought I could take it, and then things got weird and my brain just, and I thought if I did it would be weak and-and you didn’t need that, and I-I just. I’m sore and it hurt and I didn’t– it’s my fault, okay. I should have because I know that’s a rule somewhere.”

and he keeps babbling on, rambling with his eyes getting hot and his vigilante boyfriends petting him, rocking with him, letting everything just pour out of him without stopping him or pulling away, just–

Dealing with his special brand of insanity. (Those darn abandonment issues. Golly, some day he won’t feel like his chest is being ripped open viciously with fear they’re going to walk the fuck out of his life and never come back.)

He’s finally talked out, feeling like ass about fucking up their morning.

“Your color is coming back, that’s good.” “Warmed all up, Dickie. Time ta tell it like it is.” Well. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” and he blinks up out of Dick’s chest with his eyes still puffy and his side tender, those blue eyes dark with something hard to interpret.

“I’m not happy you didn’t tell us immediately because we agreed to communicate about these things. D&S can be scarring, and this is just an example of how people get hurt.” 

“And I’m going to say this now so you understand how important it is. About the fact you didn’t safeword.” Dick’s chest expands, hitches, “You need to know, you’re not only protecting yourself when you do, but you’re protecting us, too.”

“I don’t–”

“Tim. I’ve been sexually assaulted several times, and you know that. So... knowing I hurt you that way makes me sick inside, okay. Can you– can you understand that?”

“I-I fuck, Dick, I’m–” “Please don’t say it. No more sorries. But, it’s important you understand Jay and I have our own traumas, so if you, not us, want to keep trying this, we have to navigate more carefully.”

Behind him, Jay’s forehead is nestled in the dip at the base of his neck, and a hard breath whistles down the back of his shirt. 

He despairs inside at how Dick and Jay must be feeling, how bad it looked to them that Tim hadn’t come clean, hadn’t safeworded at all. “I fucked up. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

Dick presses a gentle kiss in his hair, and Jay nuzzles against his throat. 

He gets more sips of water and eventually a panini and soup. There’s more cuddles and warmth, more talk that sucks the breath out of them all. 

His head wraps around the rules differently this time, taking careful note of the way Dick’s expression gets shuddered and Jay goes still. He assures them he still does want playtime sometimes, shoots down the notion he’s only doing it for them, tells them that when his brain is too full and he needs to give up control, he doesn’t want to do it with anyone else but them. 

He realizes it’s because somewhere, he knows they’ll take care of him...if he lets them.

Then his shirt comes off so the deep bruises can have Alfred’s magical concoction spread over. His cheeks are pink when he’s laid out on his stomach with the scrub pants tossed off the bed. Soft praise while he’s spread open by gentle hands to make sure he’s not torn. Bruised and sore yeah, but nothing too awful. He gets a pair of Dick’s cut-off sweatpants that still hit him below the knee and one of Jay’s shirts that he practically swims in, but he feels about a million times better just wearing their clothes.

And when they’re careful with him for the next few days, when love making is tender and slow, when touches are easy with his bruises in mind, when everything is verbal and consent is crucial, he make more of an effort to stomp down the urges to push his limits, push himself. He stomps down on those stupid recriminations and uncertainties, tries to remember that these two could be literally anywhere else in the world, and yet, here they are at his side.

He gets to have vigilantes bleeding on his fire escape, and the men under the mask in his bed, in his shower, in his kitchen, in his life. 

The next scene he yellows, gets a much needed pause before they continue, and the aftercare is truly a thing of beauty.

#safewording out #dickjaytim #dr!tim #continued ask #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #my fic #my drab #warnings for triggering theme #submissive!tim drake #save this boy #winter rambles

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I saw you mention that Jake is a lightweight, so here’s me begging that we get some drunk Jake content at some point 🥺😭💞 or at least get to hear what type of drunk he is, it’d make my friggin day

CW: Alcohol use

Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxckfxck, @slaintetowhump

Takes place after the Safehouse Raid. Also features a fact about Chris that was mentioned on his intake paperwork but may have slipped your notice at the time!

Addie doesn't drink and she doesn't eat meat, so when Jake wants to chill with something to take the edge off before he has to really buckle down to study - and a giant burger with fries - he has to do that alone.

Well, not alone - he's never alone here, and wouldn't want to be. Antoni is responsible for the burgers and homemade fries, Leila is next door at Naomi's house watching some TV show and laughter drifts out Naomi's window loud enough that Jake can hear it all the way through theirs.

Leila’s probably going to move out soon, and they’ve gotten word of a bonded pair of rescues that might need to move into the space Krista and Leila have left behind. Might not be much longer they have this particular group together.

Well... Antoni and Chris probably won’t go anytime soon. Antoni has shown no interest, and Chris... probably wouldn’t last long. 

Nat's out at a group meeting, and Jake chose not to go with. He goes to fewer meetings, now, since the raid. He stays close to home, keeps his head down. Talks to a few people he knows really well, yeah, and meets up with the frat guy on campus for coffee and, like, talking shit out, but mostly Jake is pretty happy to just... stay here. Talk to the rescues, and Nat, and call his mother on the phone so she can disapprove of his life choices.

For now, Jake is eating, Antoni cleaning up from cooking, and Chris... Chris makes drinks.

"Did, um, did it for, for-for for Sir every day," Chris says brightly, as if talking about a trip to the zoo rather than the details of a daily horror. "Gin and, and tonic, cold as it gets without, um, without... being, being ice. Little, little bit of lemon, plus a, a, a a a twist of peel on the, the side. Or limes, he, he, he he he-he... he liked lime with gin a, a lot..."

"I don't like those, thanks, I don't even think we have gin." Jake puts his hands up in the air, smiling. He has a mostly empty Jack and Coke in front of him - second one, actually - and he feels mostly relaxed, a gentle warmth spreading through his shoulders and down his back. Less angry, and he’s angry all the time these days, not that he wasn’t before.

"Not a gin and tonic kind of guy."

Not like he'd drink the same thing as that goddamn asshole smarming up the fucking television anyway. The fucking Governor... Jake can’t even see him any longer, and unfortunately they’re going into an election year and the smug fuck’s all over the TV with his advertisements now. If Jake could just get ahold of that video of Chris... Jesus, he could end the Governor’s career, his whole life.

Maybe if he could find that video, it’d have some kind of identifying... something that could help them figure Chris out, more. His real name, whether or not he has any family... but no, the video had mentioned a legal guardian, and Chris - terrified and looking an inch from tears - had mentioned Aunt Jo, Joanne... Jake can’t figure it out. He’s missing something... something... important.

He hasn't told anyone else yet. Sooner or later, he'll have to. Chris first? Nat? Drive to an empty lot on the old factory district and scream to the fucking sky?

He hasn't decided yet.

He’d rather drink until he’s in a better mood, first.

"Well, well, well well well I trained Mixology, what do we have?" Chris asks, glancing back and forth between Jake taking a bite of his hamburger and Antoni leaning with his back against the counter, watching them with a slight smile in his slightly narrow face.

"You trained in-" Jake stops, his mouth is full, he needs a second. He chews and swallows, leaning on his elbow on the table. "You were trained to make drinks?"

Chris nods, green eyes locked on his, before he gives a little grin and bounces on the balls of his feet. "I, I liked those classes."

Jake and Antoni briefly meet eyes. Antoni shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I only took cooking classes and learned cleaning.”

“Well, maybe next you could make us something fancy you know how to do,” Jake says - the pride in Chris’s eyes, this is something he can do for them, is unmistakable and as uneasy as it makes him, part of him really wants to let Chris show off for once. “D’you know anything with vodka? Antoni keeps some in the freezer he thinks I don’t know about-”

“Don’t you dare,” Antoni says with a one-sided grin, pointing a finger at Jake. His barcode is visible in his T-shirt and jeans, in this one place where his arms can be bare without danger. Normally they’d have had it removed by now, but Antoni keeps refusing, not giving any reason. “I spent my money on good vodka, you don’t drink good vodka with anything but itself, Jasha.”

“Okay, okay. You’re no fun.” Jake pouts, a little, and Chris grins so brightly at the unfamiliar, rare expression of humor that Jake worries his face has to hurt. “I’d share my liquor with you, you know.”

“I don’t want it,” Antoni says primly, even sticking his nose in the air, and Jake laughs, shaking his head a little, picking up a fry and tossing it Chris’s direction. Chris catches it in midair and stuffs it in his mouth like it might disappear if he doesn't. “I don’t want your Jack Daniels swill, thank you very much.”

“My apologies, not all of us have your refined tastes.” 

“Apology accepted.”

Jake throws a fry at Antoni this time, and he only ducks to the side, the fry landing harmlessly in the sink. 

“You have terrible aim, Jasha.”

“You ducked! I’d’ve hit you right in you forehead if y’didn’t!” Oh, he’s starting to slur his words, pick back up the accent he’d had growing up, before he and his mom moved out here. Probably a sign he should stop drinking anyway - Chris made his Jack and Cokes stronger than he usually drinks them and being 6′3″ and made of muscle after working out since he was a teenager seems like it made him look like he can hold his liquor, but his liver never got that memo.

“Hey, Ant.” Jake clears his throat. “Antoni.”

“Yes?” Antoni grabs the bottle of vodka from the freezer, fogged and cloudy with frost, and slides into a chair, glancing over at Chris and patting the seat next to him, between Antoni and Jake. Chris grins and plops down into it so hard the chair creaks a little at the thump of his weight. He sits with his hands between his legs, palms resting on the wood of the chair, leaning slightly forward. It’s similar to and the opposite of his posture in the Contract Signing video, his eyes wide and bright, smiling slightly instead of crying, bouncing his feet off the ground in a constant blur of motion that allows the rest of him to be, largely, still. 

“What do I call you?”

“What?” Antoni blinks, confused, popping the corked top off the vodka bottle and taking a swig straight from it, not even bothering with a glass. He’s a little less refined with every week that passes, a little more casual in the way he holds himself, the way he sits, in the way an odd lilt has begun to seep into his syllables, harsher R’s but drawn-out, softer everything else. Jake wonders if he’s witnessing some kind of grand experiment, some days, in what it means to recover yourself and learn that you are something else entirely, in a way you could never have anticipated, than what you were made to be.

“What do I call you? Y’call Chris, ah, Chrisha-” Jake trips over the diminutive, his tongue struggling against the unfamiliar phrasing, and Antoni grins, taking another drink. Chris’s fingers skip up to the table, begin to sneak their way to the last bits of Jake’s second Jack and Coke. Jake catches him at it and puts on a stern face, shaking his head, picking the glass up and finishing the rest, watered down by melted ice to nearly nothing, by himself. He sets the glass down, the remaining ice clinking against itself. “No, man, you’re not 21 and I’m the closest thing to a responsible adult in this house right now.”

Chris drops his hand back between his legs again, but his smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows wider. “Oh, oh, okay, Jake. Maybe next, next time?”

“Turn 21,” Jake says, pretending for the moment that he himself wasn’t sneaking cheap beer behind the bleachers with the other guys back in high school. 

Chris is just testing, like always, but in different ways. Always testing to see if they’ll be like Sir in this way or that, learning about himself while he does it. Jake hasn’t let him down yet - and he has to hope he only ever lets Chris down in ways they can recover from. 

“... and you call me Jasha,” He continues speaking to Antoni. “So what do I call you?” 

“Hm.” Antoni thinks. “Ansha? I don’t know. I think...” His eyes go slightly distant, with the furrow of his thick eyebrows that suggests the pain that always comes with trying to consciously remember what was taken from him. “I think someone called me that once... Are we so close, you think?”

Jake shrugs. “I think so. Do you not?”

“I think we are, yes.” Antoni shrugs right back at him, then reaches out and pours a bit of the vodka over the remaining ice in Jake’s empty glass. “Jasha, what do I do if I don’t want to move out of the house?”

Jake blinks at him, taken aback. “What?”

“I don’t want to leave here. I like you, and I like our Chris, I would not want to leave him.” 

Chris bites down on his lower lip - not the practiced little nibble of teeth against sensitive skin he learned to weaponize, but a genuine attempt to hold back the surprised ecstatic smile trying to take him over. “You, you, you you-you-you-you-”

“I wouldn’t,” Antoni says softly. He reaches out to squeeze Chris’s shoulder, once, Chris leaning heavily into the touch. “I would not leave you willingly, Chrisha.”

Jake glances at Chris, bouncing in his seat, his head cocking back and forth in a kind of rhythm, feet tapping on the ground. Eternal whirlwind movement, he’d doing cartwheels on the lawn if they were outside. He won’t sit for long, he’ll be doing handstands in the living room or twisting himself in pretzels, getting out the energy that races through his muscles in any way he can. 

“I wouldn’t, either,” Jake says, thinking. He picks up the vodka Antoni poured for him and takes a sip - the vodka is weirdly smooth, runs down his throat with only the barest hint of fire. “Oh, this shit’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

“It is if you are you,” Antoni says, giving him a wicked little smile. “And not me.”

“Ha. Jackass.” Jake grins, to take the sting out, and catches the moment of worry fading from Chris’s face to be replaced with the smile he’s been wearing all along. “There's something I’ve thought about...”

“What?” Chris asks, cheerfully.

Jake looks at him, considering. Then he just shrugs on more time. “Nothin’. I’ll tell you later when I can talk about it without rambling all over the place. I’m too drunk for good conversation right now.”

“I, I, I liked this, this conversation,” Chris says, a little shyly. Jake bumps his foot against Chris’s under the table, and watches Chris toss his head with a smile, hair over his eyes falling to the side. 

“Yeah,” Jake says, taking another drink of the vodka, watching Antoni drink straight from the bottle and Chris sip the glass of Sprite and grenadine. Chris has only had a few sips, but the more he drinks, the bouncier he gets. “Yeah, I’m likin’ it, too. Like family dinner, except y’guys already ate and everyone but Chris is drinking.”

He holds up his glass, and Antoni clinks his entire bottle of vodka against it, and Chris clinks his Shirley Temple, and the three of them laugh. 

“To family dinner,” Antoni says cheerfully. “May it always include vodka.” 

Jake blinks, hearing the soft dip of the v into a different sound, almost a w. Vwahd-ka.

“To family dinner,” Jake says brightly, tossing another fry to Chris.

“To, to, to, to to to family,” Chris says, soft and nervous, as if he expects them to correct him, demand he take it back.

“That one is better,” Antoni says, pitching his voice low, too. “To family, Chrisha.”

Jake has an idea, but it might not be as safe for Chris as their situation is now.

He’s got one more year of school, and then he’ll have the education he needs plus three years of shelter life under his belt, and maybe... maybe he can ask Nat to help him pull off the one big dream Jake’s allowing himself to have. Let her use that fucking blood money she keeps in a bank account growing in bits and pieces each year since she left WRU to do something that’ll piss those fucking human traffickers off royally.

Maybe... maybe he can take Chris with him, and Antoni, too.  

“To family,” Jake says, louder than the other two, holds up his glass, and downs the rest of the vodka in one long drink. 

#alcohol use tw #drinking tw #fluff #pure and unadulterated fluff #syrupy sweet #found family #original fiction #trauma recovery #recovery whump #Antoni Sings Lullabies #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #whump #happy stuff has to happen sometimes okay #all comfort no hurt #don't worry i have some serious hurt for my ocs coming up this week #featuring: Danny's first encounter with a bear trap #and #Kauri back with Owen struggling to lie as easily as he used to #hooray #and maybe you know what #I'll break Chris again #just a lil #as a treat

[kinsbin]

Title: Midnight snack Word Count: 2011 Pairing: Alexys/Lobo [SI/Canon]

Summary: Alexys can’t sleep, so Lobo takes it upon himself to make her night at least a little entertaining. 

A/N: Commission for @space-sweetheart! Always a delight to write for ;u;

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexys tried to ignore the gentle poke of Lobo’s finger to her cheek as she stared down at her phone, the illuminating light of the video she had opened up in an effort to sleep slowly dwindling in a background tense as her lover’s distractions grew. A gentle prod to her side morphed into a harsh jab to her cheek. Then his fingers reached out and squeezed the soft meat of the same cheek he had been poking at with merciless abandone. It was on his third squeeze that Alexys yelped in surprise and flipped herself around, hand jutting out to whap softly at the massive man’s biceps with a pout to her lips. Lobo feigned a dramatic ‘owwww’ before losing his composure and laughing heartily at the face his lover made at his side.

“Aw did I wake you?” His voice was teasing and held no real echo of true apology in it, not that Alexys had expected it to. He was well aware that she was unable to sleep at times and, rather than encourage her to try and get some rest outside of when it hit a few days at a time, he was in the habit of bothering her at any given moment. Boredom often did things to the powerful being in his moments of thought that, for all of her human life, she would never be able to quite figure it out.

“What do you waaaant.” Alexys bemoaned as she rolled further onto her lover, continuing until she was all but sprawled across his broad chest. Beneath her she could feel the movement of his inhales and exhales even as they shook in a deep chuckle of amusement. One hand reached up to touch at Alexy’s hair, making her hum and snuggle herself further against Lobo as he smirked and continued to twirl strands idly between his fingertips.

“I was simply admiring the view.”

“Please, there was no view,” Alexys argued as she gazed up at him. Lobo frowned and gave a teasing tug to one strand of Alexys’ hair, making her startled not in pain but in surprise as she shooed his hand away from the tresses with a blush to her cheeks.

“Please,” Lobo purred, “You’re a fine thing to view. The drool on your lips when you finally do fall asleep and start snoring? Beautiful~.”

“Okay now you’re just asking to sleep on the floor.” Alexys threatened as she reached up to attack his hair with her own fingertips, running them through the thick locks atop his head and making Lobo laugh in earnest this time as he accepted her advances with a tilt of his own head and a thoughtful hum.

“Comfier than some of the other shit places I’ve slept in before. Trust me. Ever spend the night in an intergalactic prison? Ain’t go NO decent toilet paper anywhere. Not even for shittin, just for making a bed out of!”

Alexys wrinkled her nose at the mere image of the concept, “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s space politics!”

Alexys couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of her lover’s statement, her lips curling into that perfect smile that Lobo seemed to get lost in for one reason or another. His chaotic nature always reigned supreme in his behavior, certainly, but even an entity of trans dimensional space bounty hunting could appreciate the sight of a cute girl on top of him, laughing at his jokes as he wraps his arms around her waist and tugs her sharply into a playfully rough hug.

“Seriously though,” Alexys pinched his arm with a smile, “I can’t get back to sleep… I was really hoping to fix my sleep schedule too.”

“Well, why do you think you can’t get to sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Alexys shrugged indesiviley as she sat up so that she was straddling his torso, her hair falling over her shoulder and along the edges of her tank top in a beautiful way, “I feel like there’s always something on my mind, so I keep thinking and it just… doesn’t stop. Sometimes I just think my body makes up excuses for it not to fall into a REM cycle, I swear to fucking-”

At that moment her stomach let off a soft growl, causing a shade of pink to rise against Alexy’s cheek as she reached out to cover her stomach with both arms, hiding it from the raised eyebrow gaze of Lobo beneath her.

His laugh soon boomed around the rest of the room, sitting up so that Alexys had to balance by placing her arms around his shoulders and holding herself close to him with a pouty huff. Of course he would drag her even more close when she did something embarrassing. It was like he loved to revel in the mistakes she made. In a way he sort of did. It reminded Lobo how… human she was among the entirety of the world. How simply her existence handled itself against the weight of the universe he’s known for so, so long. Spending time with her, even just like this, made him feel more alive than any aspect of his bounty hunting career that he could recall. Not more alive than dolphins, though. Nothing could oust those majestic creatures.

“Sounds like your body knows what it wants to me!” Lobo declared with a ruffle of her hair and a grin on his lips, “You hungry, pipsqueak?”

“Yes but no-shut up!” Alexys huffed, “Its like 3 in the morning I SHOULDN’T be hungry.”

“The stomach wants what the stomach wants and all that shit,” Lobo declared with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Doesn’t matter the time, just matters the metabolism.”

“That’s not even how that saying goes.”

“No, I’m pretty positive that’s how the sayin goes. Now then!”

When Lobo stood up he took Alexys with him, scooping her in his arms bridal style and causing her to yell and cling even tighter to his neck as she gazed down at the floor below her in something half between frustration and amusement. Her complaints faded as she looked upwards in admiration of his face. From the edges of his jaw to the way he pulled his lips into a sharp grin of amusement, there was chaotic and handsome energy around him all at once. Did she really just think the words ‘handsome energy’? Alexys wanted to bury her face away so that he couldn’t somehow read her thoughts and make the situation even more ridiculous than it already was!

“Let’s get some grub!”

“We have nothing in the house,” Alexys bemoaned sadly, “We were supposed to go grocery shopping the other day and forgot to, remember?”

“I didn’t forget, I just didn’t want to.” Lobo declared with the confidence of a man who should not have been as proud of the statement as he was. Alexys couldn’t stop the laugh of moderate disbelief as she raised an eyebrow at him in wonder.

“You’re taking me out at 3am for food then?”

“There’s that 23-hour diner nearby that serves the best pancakes all night round.”

“You’ve never been to this diner nor have you had a pancake.”

“I’ve had pancakes! What the fuck do you think I am, a godless heathen?”

“Should I answer that?”

Lobo rolled his eyes (at least she was pretty sure he was rolling his eyes) and it made Alexys laugh all the brighter as she was continuously carried through the house, not bothering to be put back on the floor for as long as her boyfriend was willing to keep her in his strong, safe arms.

She wasn’t sure when they had left the apartment building they shared, nor when they had walked down the still streets of their neighborhood to the diner they both longed for, but there was no complaint from her as she was promptly dropped into one of the diner’s plush leather booths with an unceremonious ‘thud’.

The patrons of the diner watched in moderate terror as Lobo’s form took up the entirety of one side of a booth, his hulking appearance ever imposing as it always was. Alexys had long since learned to ignore the looks of others as they ogled her boyfriend in terror. Though the thought of their eyes was always still there in the back of her mind, dating Lobo was a wild mixture of constant stares and surprised yells as he got into something he probably should not have in one way or another.

The process of ordering their food wasn’t so much ‘ordering’ as it was the waiter tentatively coming up to them both, Alexys giving her request for some french toast and a cup of coffee, and then Lobo yelling sharply at the guy before thanking him with a roll of his eyes as he scampered away. Lobo mumbled something about ‘the service here’ that made Alexys bite her lip and smile through the giggles she choked out.

“Do you have to give every waiter a hard time?”

“It weeds out the weak ones, I do it for their growth, I swear!”

She simply kicked his leg under the table, laughing in unison with him as the two watched the outside world beyond the realm of their diner. As the foods arrived, piles of greasy diner foods and sweet milkshakes at either side of them, Alexys couldn’t help but feel… content in a strange way. Comfortable in the space she was in, even if that space was three in the morning in a diner she had never been to before. The world felt… so much bigger like this, though. As if so much more was bound to happen.

Was that just a side effect of living with Lobo, she wondered? He definitely made things interesting, that was for certain.

The thought passed just as Lobo took a bite of his hamburger that nearly made the entire thing disappear. She leaned on her hand as she chewed at a bite of her own food, hiding a smile behind her hand as she raised an eyebrow at Lobo, who gave her a thumbs up in return.

“It’s fucking good!”

Alexys swallowed her own bite and nodded, “Yeah, I’m surprised!”

Lobo laughed at her face and then reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear while reaching out to nab at once of her pieces of French Toast and return to his own space, admiring his handy work as a blush warmed Alexy’s cheeks.

“You’re insufferable.” Alexys declared as she watched him wolf down her additional french toast slice between hungry lips.

“Ah, but you love me!”

Alexys blushed as she looked away, cutting fiercely at the slice of food left among its syrupy remains and muttered the words despite herself:

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Lobo paused mid-chug of his soda and raised his eyebrows in surprise, the statement never truly ceasing to amaze him as Alexys admitted her words with slight difficulty. She looked back at him and bit her cheek to contain her own insecure look as she fiddled with her fork and knife for a brief moment. Lobo’s grin was growing inch by inch the longer the two of them watched one another, as though he was revving himself up for something. Alexys felt her shoulders tense for a brief moment before she was lifted up and scooped into a rather obnoxious hug from the other sharing the booth.

“God, I just LOVE hearing you say those ridiculous words, baby!” Lobo laughed heartily as Alexys squirmed in surprise at the suddenness of his actions, her face reddening as she looked around at the other patrons now unashamedly eyeing her with something between awe and amusement.

“Lobo you’re making this embarrassing!” Alexys declared as she struggled more.

“Shut up, I gotta ENJOY this moment. This sweet confession!”

“I changed my mind, I hate you, now let me go!”

Alexys found herself laughing as well though, her lips curling into a smile of delight as she soon found herself hugging Lobo back. Indeed, sometimes the nights were just better with him at her side. No matter where they went, they were there for one another that was for certain. Even in diners at 3am.

#writing commission #self ship #self shipping #self insert #si/canon #kinley writes #space-sweetheart

[aobubblegum]

hehe what would happen if you looked down and saw Komaeda super tiny like just 3 inches tall on the floor at your feet in your bedroom? hehe just imagine. Be dark if you want it's just a fantasy :3c

❤ ❤ ❤ i would place komaeda in my hands and hold him gentle like hamburger. next i would pet his fuwa fuwa marshmallow hair like i’ve always wanted to do... anyways, moving on. can we add nagito to our kermit the frog/trevor belmont enemies to lovers fic? i feel like nagito would really vibe with the direction we were heading in chapter three.

#gaylien-express

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

FICS: PROPOSTE INDECENTI + AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

I posted these on AO3 back in January. And I really wanted to have something brand new for today, but I am trying as hard as I can to have the fairy tale AU finished by tomorrow, so... Hope you’ll like them! They are BOTH IN ENGLISH ;) !!

PROPOSTE INDECENTI Seconds  

10 - 9

The longest ten seconds of his whole fucking life. Maybe Niccolò really is considering turning it down, given the time and setting.

3 a.m. McDonald's. Sitting on plastic chairs. Lazily eating cold fries and a hamburger that tastes like cardboard with one hand, stroking each other's thumbs with the other. Feeling like the last men on Earth, in a deserted place that would normally be buzzing with life in the daytime.

He should have sticked to his plan, given him his scripted speech this Sunday at the Bioparco. But he didn't, and now...

 8-7

… now he's screwed, isn't he? He fucked it up, and Niccolò is going to carry on and pretend this has been nothing but a bad dream.

He couldn't help it, though. Not when Niccolò was glowing with pride and elation as he showed Martino his first - published, finally!! - illustrated book.

The one Nico had lovingly renamed 'our baby' - and damn if Marti's heart didn't skip a beat at that -  even though all he didn't do much but offer his moral support.

How was he supposed to resist?

 6-5

He looked more beautiful than ever, in an old tracksuit and with a ridiculous headband holding his wild curls at bay. Buzzing with enthusiasm, while he told Marti about how Naima the giraffe who had her head too high in the clouds learnt from Mabel the red panda that she shouldn't fear what's in her heart. That her feelings are never too much, like so many others have been telling her.

Niccolò had always been very secretive about the plot, saying 'It's a surprise' with a mischievous glint in his eyes whenever Martino asked for more details… and right in that very moment he could see why.

"Children emotions tends to be heightened, and therefore often dismissed. I hope this can tell them that they matter, you know? That they're gonna find someone willing to listen, someday. Just like I found you."

It was their story. Edited, tweaked but still the same at its core. Shared to offer some hope to whoever might need it.

How could he not stop Niccolò right there and fumble for the box in his bag?

 4-3

Flinging it into his hands and dropping on one knee felt too predictable and cheap, however.

"I… I think I'm gonna get a milkshake. Would you like me to get you anything? An ice-cream cone? A Flurry?" Then, raising a voice a couple of octaves to make it sound childlike he adds "A Happy Meal?"

"Ahah. You're so funny, have you ever considered a career as a stand-up comedian? Get me a Happy Meal, you ass." And he would have sucked on that raised middle finger, without any shame, had it been a night like any other.

But it wasn't.

 2

Niccolò kept on gloating, until he opened the Happy Meal. His face fell, indeed, when he found the giraffe and red panda wooden figurines connected through a red silk thread and carrying a ring.

Ebony black, like his hair. Adorned with amber and aventurine, which both reminded Martino of his eyes.

Eyes which were now boring into him with a mixture of confusion and… disappointment?

Not exactly the reaction he had been wishing for. The silence between them felt a bit uncomfortable, for the first time in maybe ever, but Martino forced himself to speak.

"I know that I told you, so many times and in so many ways, that nobody knows a fucking thing about what's gonna happen tomorrow but... I am certain about ONE thing and ONE thing only: that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, as your HUSBAND. Don't you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"That's two things, Marti. Maybe even three. I believe so… but let me just have ten seconds to think it through, okay?"

 1

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. " He finally says. Each yes said before a kiss, his smile getting brighter and brighter as they both start crying. Tears they brush away with gentle fingertips, with soft lips.

"A thousand times yes, Marti." Niccolò reiterates, resting his forehead against his fiancé's. Not an old fashioned to say 'boyfriend' when you significant one is not exactly a boy anymore, but the real deal now.

Fiancé. Betrothed. Soon to be husband. He can't wait to refer to Martino using those term with friends, colleagues, guests, relatives. With all those random people he ends up talking to while queuing up at the post office - on the bus, on the train, on the subway. The whole world needs to know, and he is certain that Marti feels like the same.

"Once is more than enough."

-----------

   Minutes  

It still doesn’t feel real, even though he has had some minutes to let it sink in. Despite the weight of the ring dangling from his necklace - "how very Frodo of you…" "Are you calling your future husband a fucking hobbit, Mr Rametta?" - and his proposal still echoing in his ears, he fears he might wake up any minute now. Alone.

He has to take refuge in Marti’s arms, grounding himself in his warm and tight embrace. Nothing can touch him, when he’s there. Nothing can reach him, apart from Martino’s smell and the palpable solidity of his body.

"I can take it back, if you’d like." Marti mumbles, against his helix piercing.

"Don’t you dare!" Niccolò protests, first jabbing his ribs with his forefinger and then flicking his nose.

"I mean… you don't sound positively thrilled about it…" He points out, puzzled to hear Niccolò chuckle.

"Well, we're talking about spending the rest of my life with the most boring gay I've ever met…" Nico sighs dramatically, but then he gets dreadfully serious. He is so overjoyed, so full of love he could burst, and Martino better not end up thinking otherwise. "I couldn't be happier… You know that, right? I simply wanted to be the one to propose."

"Well, maybe you still can. Fifteen or twenty years from now, when we'll feel like renewing our vows or some shit…" Martino suggests, standing up and cleaning their table. They must go now, if they want to have some time left to spare to celebrate home before heading out again to work.

"Sounds lovely. You have such a way with words, Marti." Niccolò shoves him playfully, but files that piece of information into a secured corner of his brain. Might come in handy, in the future. "And how do you know about renewals, anyway? Don't tell me you've been bingewatching 'Say Yes To The Dress' on RealTime!"

"Whaaat? Me? Nope. Never. Must have heard something from Filo. Or was it Edo?"

*************

AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

Hours  

Hours have gone by. It took them twice longer than usual to reach their flat, unable to walk more than a few steps without stopping for a quick peck. Or a full on make out session against a couple of closed, sturdy, doors.

Clothes were discarded on the floor as soon as they stepped inside, and they had made love until dawn. Exhausted, by then, they had fallen asleep.

Fear has had time to come knocking, and with it the painful reminder that people always leave. Or get sick of each other, and stay together only to keep up appearances.

No. That's not gonna happen. Not to them. Not when they are perfectly aware that gonna have to make a promise to each other not only on that day… but every second, every minute, every hour they spend together. Or apart.

Not necessarily with words. Which little gestures, too. Cherish their love. Never take it for granted.

"I promise you that we can make it. From now, to infinity." Martino says, softly, as he lays a kiss on Niccolò chest. Right where his heart is, just like Nico did so many years before under those red lights.

"To infinity and beyond."

"Don't start quoting Toy Story when I'm trying to be deep, Ni."

"It doesn't suit you. Now, up up up. Put something on and come with me... I don't want to miss watching the sunrise and cuddling with my betrothed on my cozy balcony."

"You are unbelievable."

"And you love that."

"I sure do, don't I?"

   Imagination  

This is absolutely not what Niccolò or Martino had in mind.

The unnecessary opulence, the stifling atmosphere in spite of the marvelous outdoor venue.

"It's not like you had a clear picture of what you wanted, anyway." Anyone would argue, and they would be right.

It had been easy enough to picture it back in Milan, where having a wedding in their birthday suits had sounded like the coolest idea he had ever had… But now Nico can't really see how that would go down, can't imagine it wouldn't be a complete catastrophe.

Like any other scenario they came up with. Some are too over the top, and would make Martino feel uncomfortable. Some are too dull, and would be an ill match to Niccolò's eccentricity.

Someone had to take the matter into their hands, and it wasn't like Silvia had done a bad job with the very little input she had from the grooms.

Maybe they could settle for this?

***************

   Instinct  

Or maybe not.

Martino refused to make this day, their day, about anyone else but themselves.

His in-laws were probably going to hate him for this, as firm believers of a time and a place for spontaneity, and their own friends were surely going to hold it against them for the next fifty years or so… but who cared?

Not him. Not when he was witnessing the first real smile of the week from Niccolò, merely by showing up on his old bike.

"Get on." It took him some fumbling, since a tight fitting tuxedo wasn't really the best attire for riding a bike, but eventually he managed to sit comfortably behind Martino.

"Where are we going?" He asked, presuming to be filled in about Marti's plan for the next few hours.

"Wherever the fuck we want." Martino said, instead, refusing to tell Niccolò anything concerning their destination. Or what they would do, once they reached it.

It didn't take too long to get to a church that Niccolò knew all too well. He had often joked about getting married in its crypt, surrounded by skulls and chandeliers made of human bones. Too bad it was hardly ever opened to the public, and totally unavailable for any kind of celebration.

"And how exactly are you planning to get in?" He inquired, walking over to the locked door.

"I might have asked Filippo to make me a copy of the key, when he got one for his photography project. Off the record." Because he knew Niccolò would love to stroll through the building undisturbed. Taking in its macabre allure, appreciating the fleeting nature of his own existence.

"Uh… Martino Rametta breaking the law by owning something he's not supposed to? A man after my own heart, I must say."

"I thought I already had it. Your heart, I mean." He commented, offhandedly, as he cursed and kicked against the rusty old door. "Oh, come on! Jesus! You were working just fine last time!"

"And this wonderful hint of blasphemy, right in front of a church. Wow." Niccolò reached out for him, then, pinning his open palm onto his own chest. "You're not mistaken, by the way. This has been yours for years."

"Same here." Marti turned to take his hand, and l let him feel how fast his heart was beating.

And then, as Marti was leaning in for a kiss, Nico moved back and brazenly snatched the keys.

"You know I've got the magic touch. Don't know whether it's in the fingers on in the wrists…"

"You better leave those innuendo at the door, Ni."

"Or what? You'll punish me, Father? You'll drag me into one of the confessionals and…"

… and he might had been tempted to do that, to drop on his knees and worship this man… Before he was basically challenged to reign in his wildest fantasies. Oh, he knew Niccolò wouldn't even try to play fair but still… He was so going to win this.

******

   Memory  

"... and then?" The kids asked, trying to get Mr. David's attention.

"Mh?" He had been distracted by an old lady coming to congratulate him on finally tying the knot a couple of weeks before. Shoelaces were a challenge for anyone, indeed, so it made sense he got praised for achieving that goal… Even though it took him so many years.

And that hadn't been the only interruption. For same weird reason their parents kept butting in to tell them shouldn't bother Mr. Fares. Or his 'partner'. They don't say 'husband', for some reason. Despite it being the word David uses for Michelangelo.

Grown up are so, so dumb.

"You ran away from your own wedding, got to a spooky church… and then? What happened?"

"Did you find a body and have to solve a murder?"

"I'm afraid not. We walked inside, and I read him my vows. He gave me his. I can show them to you, if you'd like? I always carry them in my pocket." Most didn't quite understand what was so great about two stick figures on a badly drawn giraffe, but the words written on the side sounded nice. Especially the closing line.

 Per quanta strada abbiam fatto, e per quanta  ancora ce n'è da fare… Amo già il finale.

"Booooring! I bet you went back to the ranch for the actual ceremony, after that?"

"Wrong. Remember that I started telling you all about this day because Meni asked what was the biggest prank I've ever pulled on my friends and family… That's it: making them all believe they would see US getting married and then have two other people saying 'I do' that afternoon. And this day I'm still quite proud I could pull that off. And so is my husband. I mean, our old folks were THIS close to believe we had been kidnapped."

Impressive. Kind of. Perhaps grown up can be cool, once in a blue moon?

"Ni? Nico? Earth to Niccolò Fares?" Not fair! He was a grown up! Why was he getting sweets before dinner?

"Yeah yeah, I can hear you loud and clear Marti." He gulped down his candies in a heartbeat.  And then gave him a quick kiss, saying "Thanks, love."

Huh? Nico? Marti? Then why their moms - and a couple of their dads - referred to him as Michelangelo's David?

Grown ups are so, so weird.

#skam italia #final countdown weeks #week 2 #day four: share the love

[lovingloudly-archived]

i had an amazing day with my friends :-) ! a lot of rambling about it below ! 🌈🧸

i really can't even verbalise how good today was - i was just buzzing the entire time which i guess is a good sign?? but jeeeez today was incredible!!! i was feeling super inauthentic and fake and doubting if my personality was real etc the last couple of weeks but like… being around these three goofs who i've learned to call my genuine friends (even though i've only known them since sept when we started college) has made me feel so real and heard and involved and aaaaah i would do anything for them.. they are. so wonderful ?? 

i never thought id find a real life group friends like this honestly. and i mean, internet friends are a whole different thing!! i just can't even explain how amazing it is to have people who know me for who i am irl first and foremost rather than what i sometimes feel like i am online which is some sort of idealized version of myself (which isn't true either way. i'm being myself regardless babie and i'm trying to remember that!!) but i just... i just feel so alive and unstoppable with them and i actually feel open expressing things to them?? for the first time i sent them a sentimental ramble kinda like what this is which is very big for me honestly.. when i met them i was fully prepared to never? be truly open with them?? and yet how supportive they've been towards me has completely blindsided me and i'll forever be grateful for all they've done for me so far :,)

i didn't know how they would respond to me being so passionately thankful to know them when they may not reciprocate it. but today really helped me like.. realise that they do care about me and that they love me back which i never expected. today really just kinda… put me back inside my body??? they make me feel like myself again and that its okay to be myself - i wanna cry about it tbh i just feel so happy and grateful to know them. and we saw sonic together btw!!! which was. so wholesome and fun and genuinely enjoyable omg. it had... like elements of all of us in our group of 4, jack said it was like the epitome of us which idk that stuck with me like wow we really have like... learned each others interests and everything after 5-ish months of being friends and it's oddly soft to have that irl :( and i had never seen a movie with more than one friend before this?? so being with my group and just passing our giant popcorn together and bonking my head against one of my friend’s (selin) shoulder bc physical affection babie and calling her pretty and going wild when we saw an ad for our college being like “omg put us in we go THEREEE !!” and. again just. not being afraid to express that i genuinely love them was the best…. i’m v overwhelmed in a positive way sjddjksks. 

i just feel so real and secure in who i am because of them and i hope i get to feel like this more as i...... ?? “recover”? idk i’m still struggling with realising that what i've gone through and been hurt through is enough to validate some sort of recovery but i know i deserve it. everyone deserves that inherently :(

also, if you have seen the sonic movie already, you will know that there is a certain song near the beginning by uhh my fav band wink wink i don't wanna spoil incase any fans see this i want them to see the movie and b surprised with seeing this song playing bc i almost cried. and i ??? hand flapped openly when it played and my friends didn’t judge me or anything i love them i… ??? i’m overwhelmed ohh my gosh i love my friends …. i love them so much. they've been so supportive and there for me when they could have just been these... very uninvolved friends who didn't make any attempt to talk to me unless i initiated it but they aren't that. they're conversational and supportive and care enough to remember the things i like and actually who i am and involve me in things and treat me like i actually add something to the group and asdfghjdfklj i’m v. very thankful for my friends oh myy goodness... i love them so much. 

ALSO. ??? okay silly thing. i hugged all 3 of them today which i ? also initiated which felt very risky bc i always have that lurking fear that my affection or kindness will be rejected and i guess that has made me suppress those sort of things a lot but i hugged all 3 of them!! with selin its a regular thing and her hugs are v soft, harrison’s one was quick bc he had to leave but i just love that despite the other two giving him fistbumps i felt confident enough to jsut.. give him a liddol hug bc i appreciate him and i hope he knows that :( the only other time so far weve hugged was bc he got super excited about his christmas present i got him (its a pin and he wears it everywhere now i could cry!!!!) 

and i hugged jack for the first time which is !! like a v silly little thing but for a bit he was the one i talked to least? but gradually we’ve been closer with each other which is v fun bc we are solidarity in many ways fjsdnvfhkfrjgf...... the curly hair.. the hypermobility (we found this out today and we both went wild btw!! spiderman pointing at each other meme in real life im telling u), the way we say the exact same things, the gay solidarity... anyway i love hugging people oml i haven't had this many hugs in one day maybe *ever*!! so it was euphoric leave me aloneeeeee let me be dramatic i am ridiculously touchstarved goshfhj. they're also all taller than me which isnt saying much i UNDERSTAND THIS (tumblr has made me think my height was average until i went to college and EVERY person i come in contact with is taller than me by a good bit) but omg... hugging taller people as i've now found out... is truly very neat!!!!!! u people that have previously been lucky enough to hug a tall ppl were right :D  it was gentle. hold each other gentle like hamburger !! 

harrison had to leave a lil bit earlier so he missed out on the sick group hug but jhkdmljdskfhg ogmjhkkh i feel so overly dramatic about that but genuinely just.......... and i didn't initiate that one! selin did and it meant so much to me like. idk i've had the fear for the longest time that i was just grotesqueeeee and nobody would be willing to interact with me let alone give me physical affection so having that and kinda just being comfortably squished between them......... the bliss i experienced in that moment u guys........... i cannot......... dang that was a long ramble just about the hugging alone can u tell how happy today made me ohmygogoshd........

argh okay last paragraph u get my point....... i never thought i would have friends like this so it's just like, im not exactly FEELING hope that it will happen it's the just the. god i don't know another more emotive word for it but just?? the realisation that it has happened and i have these guys and that i'm apart of something bigger than just myself instead of strictly one-on-one friendships, im apart of a group and i feel trusted by them and i feel just. i don't wanna say i was “meant” to meet them but i truly feel that meeting them has changed everything for me and i'll always be over the moon about that :,) ! 🌙🧸🌈💞🌙🧸🌈🌙🧸💞🌈🌙🧸💞🌈🌙🧸💞🌈

#chatter #comfort tag #i just want to remember this forever

[burtlederp]

Writing Blurb 3

So, fun fact about me: I used to write waaaayy more than I do these days. So much so that reading back through my old documents full of writing blurbs is a little painful, not because it’s cringe-worthy, but because I don’t write as well anymore. Hopefully, I’ll get better now that I’ve joined the whump community. :) So occasionally, I might post old writing blurbs, like this one. This one is from last year’s pi day. Is it the best thing I’ve ever written? I don’t think so. Is it definitely one of my favorite writing blurbs? Yes. 

The characters in it are very old, in that I don’t remember much about them. I remember Samuel, of course, but very little about the others. Anyway, I hope all y’all enjoy!

TW: Gore, PTSD, emeto... I think that’s it. :P 

---

The four men stumbled out of the woods, collapsing onto the rough asphalt. Samson lay on his back, chest heaving, Wicker pressing his face against the road, Lionell on his side, and Williams was on his hands and knees, choking on air. They didn’t speak, all of their fingers pressed against the road, feeling it. It wasn’t smooth by any standards, but it was perfect for them. It was flat, it was well-lit by the streetlamp overhead, it was kept up. It was civilization, run by an orderly government, where structure reigned. 

They didn’t move for a while, unaware of time passing, no cars coming by. It was night out, late, late night, the buzz of the lamp overhead mingling with the faint sounds of cicadas and crickets from the woods. Williams had laid down on his side too.

Wicker raised his head, looking at the three others who lay on either side of him, all with eyes closed, breathing steady. He sighed, rubbing his face, and shifted onto his back, sitting up to take off his shoes. It was heaven, feeling the cool, summer night air embrace the worn, blistered, bloody, and sore soles of his feet. 

“Samson,” He breathed. Samson grunted peacefully in reply, his hand resting on his stomach.

“We ought to at least get out of the road.” Wicker pointed out, voice hoarse. There was a pause, and Samson smiled faintly, scoffing quietly. 

“You’re right.” He croaked, forcing himself to sit up. He rubbed his face, and saw Wicker’s toes. He removed his own shoes immediately, massaging his bloodied feet. Wicker roused the other two, and soon all were barefoot. 

Four men, sitting in the road, barefoot and bloodied and dirty, two packs between them lying on the sidewalk with a mutilated assault rifle, a broadsword, a rapier, and a club beside it. Samson was a gruesome sight, his head wrapped and face half-covered by an old cloth that had long soaked up blood beyond its’ carrying capacity and dried stiff. Wicker’s left hand was gone, the stump bandaged tightly in dirty rags. Lionell was deathly pale. Williams’ breathing was shot. 

“Let’s go.” Wicker said, getting to his feet and immediately falling, gasping in pain. Samson rose as he fell, slower than Wicker, more careful. What was visible of his face was screwed up in pain as he took shaky steps towards the pack on the grass. Leaning on each other and on weapons not meant to be used as walking sticks, the four began to walk down the road. The asphalt was smooth and gentle on their soles.

They didn’t know where to go, but soon found themselves wandering into a small town. Neighborhood lights were visible distantly through trees as they passed by darkened windows and rotted lots. 

On a corner that they came up to was a small gas station, and next to it, a McDonalds. All four came to a slow stop, staring up at the golden arches. Without a word, they all looked slowly to Lionell, who tiredly shifted his pack to his hand, opening it. He rustled around within and finally found a wad of old leather. Carefully prying it open, he managed to work out disgusting fifty dollar bill. 

There was no discussion, just an understanding, as they crossed the street and entered the McDonalds. Lionell walked up to the counter where a young girl stood and then gaped, face going pale as she caught sight of the men. Williams, Samson, and Wicker all stayed by the door as Lionell weakly placed the fifty on the counter. 

“Four waters, and as many burgers as this will get us, please.” He mumbled, and coughed into his elbow. “Keep the change.” 

“Uhh--yessir,” The girl swallowed, carefully taking the dilapidated fifty and handing Lionell water cups. Samson assisting, the four sat in a booth, waiting for their food. After some time, the four practically asleep as the employees spoke animatedly behind the counter, they were brought a round of hamburgers by the girl. 

Some time later, their stomachs were full, Williams leaned against Samson, Wicker leaning back, Lionell with his head on the table, all sound asleep. There was still food to eat, but that lay forgotten in front of them. 

Wicker was roused by a hurried tap on his shoulder. He winced, opening his eyes and seeing a man standing by them. He gasped, hand instinctively going for his club. When he failed to find it attached to his belt, he remembered where he was. He rubbed his face.

“Uh,” The man looked at him with furrowed brow. “Y’all can’t sleep here,” Wicker looked up at him with squinted eyes. 

“Yeah…” Wicker nodded, rubbing his face. “Where is this place?” He asked groggily.

“Uh, McDonalds, sir,” The man replied. 

“Where in the world is this McDonalds?” Wicker inquired patiently, eyes closed.

“Yemasse, South Carolina.” 

“Where the hell…?” Wicker muttered, scowling. “Do you have a phone I could use?” The man, who Wicker assumed to be the manager, supplied him quarters and sent him outside to the payphone. 

He dialed the one number he could remember, some government agent’s number, and listened to it ring. He dialed it again, and it rung and rung. He tried a third time, was denied answer, left a message, and hung up. Pushed by the manager, he roused his friends and ushered them outside. Half-asleep, they went down the road to a Red Roof Inn. All four sat on the curb as Wicker and Lionell searched through their bags for anything. They yielded five gold coins, a twenty and a five, and a small, ruby amulet. Wicker left the amulet in the bag, along with one of the gold coins, and entered the Inn. With the club strung across his bag, bloodied rags on his stump hugging his stomach, and generally covered in blood and filth, the poor receptionist was terrified and accepted his payment, shakily handing him room keys. 

The four trouped up to the room, entered, fell on the bed, the couch, and the carpet, and did not move again until the sun climbed its’ way through the curtains, falling upon their limp forms. Around 10 am, housekeeping knocked, heard nothing, opened the door, and quickly closed it again. They were oblivious, missing it, and the worried whispers of management as they peered inside as well. 

Samson woke around noon, which the sun had shifted to finally fall on his face. He was laid awkwardly on a couch that was too small for him, and had avoided the sun until it fell on his one good eye. He blinked open his eye, wincing and moving his head out of the light, inevitably falling off the couch. No one else heard him. 

He leaned against the couch, feeling strange, in pain, and terribly confused. He looked around, drawing up the faintest memories of golden arches and red roofs. It dawned on him.

He was safe. They were safe. All four were safe within the clutches of civilization again. There were no warring factions, bloodthirsty and hungry for the flesh of their enemies. There were no men creeping in the shadows of the hotel bathroom, sword drawn and ready to kill. There were no bands outside, shouting and calling them down to fight and die. No monsters. 

A knock at the door made him jump. 

“FBI, open up,” A gruff voice called. Samson looked down at his feet. He didn’t want to stand. 

He reached and took hold of Wicker’s club, standing himself up and limping across the room in agony. He opened the door and quickly moved to a chair, sighing in relief as he sat again. The door was pushed open, and in stepped a man in a sleek black suit. He looked bored, prepared, but his expression soon turned to surprise as he laid eyes on Samson, who stared up at him tiredly. 

“Are--are you all members of the Tuliven Expedition?” He asked, hesitating, caught off guard by the appearance of all of them. Samson hushed him, putting a finger over his lips and gesturing weakly to the others, which slept on.

“Yes.” He replied hoarsely. The agent glanced between all of them.

“I got your message, I… Is this… all of you?” He asked quietly, brow furrowing.

“Yes.” Samson croaked, eye lowering. “All that’s left.” 

“There… There were twelve of you…” The agent said, mouth agape. 

“And now there are four.” Samson’s voice caught in his throat. Visions of blood and death were vivid in his mind. There was a long moment of silence.

“They want you back in Washington by the end of today for debriefing.” The agent whispered. Samson thought for a moment, and looked at the young agent. 

“I’ll be happy to go home. We all will. But I don’t think we will be ready to debrief tonight.” He replied. The agent nodded, understanding.

“How soon will you all be ready to go? We can’t wait too long.” 

“I--We--will want to shower. We will want new clothes. New bandages. To brush our teeth. I don’t want these things to be put off.” Samson replied. “I don’t want to wear this anymore.” He gingerly laid a hand on his head. “Wicker will want to see what is left of his hand. Lionell and Williams’ will need doctors very soon. We will all need water. And pain medication. As much as we can take.” The agent was silent a moment, and pulled out his phone, tapping something down. He took a hotel key card from off the table.

“I’m Agent Clemons, by the way. Go ahead and shower, I’ll be back soon.” The agent turned to go.

“Agent Clemons,” Samson added, and the agent paused. “No shoes. We cannot.” The agent glanced down at their feet, and nodded. He closed the door and was gone, leaving Samson to sit still for a while, summoning strength. When he could finally find it, he stood, leaning on the club, and limped into the bathroom.

With difficulty, and with pain, and great care, he took off his clothes. He unwrapped the bandages around his head, but didn’t look, getting into the shower. He cleaned himself, as best he could, using the washcloth to wipe away dirt, brush away crusted blood, and teased shampoo through his hair, which he found to be surprisingly long. He stood, letting the warm water run through his hair, staring down at his torn feet. Images of war flashed through his mind; villages burning, children dying, that dark night when people he cared about deeply were cut from him, those who died in his arms, the terror, the terror, the terror.

He wept.

When he got out of the shower, he could hear Agent Clemons outside the bathroom door. After a brief exchange behind a cracked bathroom door, he was delivered new clothes and with some difficulty pulled on brand new, clean clothes. It felt divine, soft, cotton cloth, unspoilt by mud or blood on his weathered skin, deodorant to mask whatever had not been washed away, underwear. Clean underwear. 

He stood in front of the mirror now. It was fogged, his face a dark blur. He knew he had a beard. He knew his hair was long. He knew of his eye’s state. He knew what sight was hidden was not pretty. 

With a small towel, he wiped away the condensation and gasped audibly. 

A deep, dark cut, barely scabbed over, bright red and hot and angry, stretched across his face from just above the right corner of his jawline, over the tip of his nose, and over his left eye, ending just before the hairline. His cheek had fared well, closed cleanly; his nose was broken and still open, even wider than it had been when it was initially opened, the dark of his nostrils visible through it; his eye was a disgusting mess of dead tissue and seeping fluids. His sight was gone. He’d never have anything there again. He never wanted to see anything there again. Feeling acutely nauseous at the sight of his own face, he quickly wrapped his head back up, obscuring the wound as well as he could, despite how the bandages lent to him from Clemons squeezed his head and made his perpetual headache worlds’ worse. 

He exited the bathroom to find only Lionell and Clemons. Lionell had taken the bed, and had shifted positions, but still lay there. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed, sweat beading on his brow. Clemons sat in a chair, tapping away at something on his phone. He looked up when Samson exited the bathroom. Plastic bags lined the dresser behind him.

“You didn’t want to shave?” He asked.

“No… Where are Wicker and Williams?” He inquired. “...And the pain medicine?”

“Next room over. Government paid for it, they’re showering over there.” Clemons answered, handing him a water bottle and aspirin. Samson sat down on the edge of the bed, quickly downing the pills with a generous gulp of water.

“You okay, Lionell?” He asked. Lionell moaned in reply, holding his stomach tightly. Samson noticed the trashcan pulled close to the beside just as the poor man rolled over and dry heaved above it. 

“Do you need help?” Samson asked tenderly, and Lionell shook his head, eyes closed. He slowly sat up, and moved into the bathroom, carrying the trash can. He left the door unlocked.

Samson looked to the bags. Clemons had not failed them. He had gotten them medications of various kinds, including painkillers, cough syrups, and antidiarrheal pills. Various material for bandaging wounds like antibiotic creams, bandaids, and gauze. Toiletries, new clothes, soft socks, a case of water bottles, and fresh fruit. The finishing touch: walking canes.

“Thank you, Clemons, thank you so much.” Samson said softly. The agent smiled and nodded, handing him a cane, so that he could pick what he wanted first from the bag. Samson bit into a pear and fought back tears as he began to put bandaids on the cuts that bothered him rubbing his feet with lotion and, as little as he wanted to put anything on his feet, he pulled on socks and was grateful for them too. He drank and ate as he did so, and as Lionell finally emerged from the bathroom, Samson entered and cleaned his teeth thoroughly, avoiding looking at the mirror. 

All the agents took their turns in the shower, cleaning themselves, their wounds as best they could, wrapping themselves up, and with the temptation of a late lunch on the way to the airport, they were ready to go. They would later recall the rest of the day a blur, as they stopped and gorged themselves at a nearby restaurant--not McDonalds again--and drove to the nearby marine base, taking off from there and heading up the coast. 

Upon arriving in D.C., Lionell went to the hospital with Williams, Wicker stayed to debrief, surprisingly ready to speak, and Samson, who was tired, went home.

#whump #whump community #myocs #oc #mine #original piece #whump writing #oldie but a goodie #new to the community #constructive critique welcome! #shoutout to yemasse sc #ive never been there but i went off google earth lol

[nomadicsurvivor]

The Meaning of a Date

Day 3 - Dates Just Limit Your Options

I never got the hype of a birthday – what is a date anyway?  It’s a man-made concept of time placed into a man-made structure of months, weeks, days, years.  The construct is to help humans notate the passing of important moments.  The day we were found on the side of the road was named as our “birth date”.  Not that it held much meaning to me.  Even after I returned to Roswell and was reunited with Max and Isobel, our birthday didn’t really hold any special meaning to me.  The three of us would do something together on that day, acknowledge it, but all three of us knew it wasn’t something significant the way it was to other kids, to human kids.  And while the Evans would throw Max and Izzy a party, no one really ever acknowledged mine – I never got a party or a card or anything.  It wasn’t even until I got back to Roswell that I found out that I was missing out on something.

But my 18th birthday, that changed.  Alex had packed a picnic and got me to drive him way out into the desert. It had been a couple months since that day – the tool shed, his dad, Rosa…  We had seen very little of each other since then.  He had seen me protecting a broken hand at school as we entered finals season.  I had seen him protecting his ribs – I could only imagine what colors were under his clothing.  We avoided each other for the most part, but would occasionally run into each other at classroom doors, in the hallways, going in or out of Crashdown.  So imagine my surprise when, those couple months later, he somehow found where my truck was parked behind the grocery store and dropped a backpack and basket in the back of the truck, climbed into the passenger side, and told me to drive – no hello, nothing – just invited himself into my truck and said “drive.”  Which of course I did.

I took up into the back part of the Foster Ranch, occasionally brave enough to glance over at him to watch him look out the passenger window, a small grin on his face as he felt the wind through his hair from the open window.  I’d always keep looking at him when he’d glance back, catching his eyes for that split second before I’d force myself to slowly, casually, look back to the space in front of the truck.  His make-up was gone, as were the piercings.  But he was still exactly how I remembered seeing him over the years, and especially those times recently as we grew closer.  I felt a calm come over me when I was with him – something I can’t say I felt too often growing up around humans.

I drove us to where the rocky outcrops come up out of the ground, and stopped the truck in a small patch of shade.  As the engine ticked down as it cooled, we both just sat in silence for a couple minutes.

“How have you been?  How is your hand?”

“It is what it is I guess.”

He glanced at it, a deep crease of concern across his forehead before looking back out the window.

“Did you go to the doctor?  It doesn’t look good.”

I scoffed. “Alex, I am a runaway from CPS.  Aside from not having insurance or money, I can’t exactly walk into a hospital and not get reported.”

He looked hurt by that, although I don’t know if it was the slightly patronizing tone I took, or the grim reality of my life and what that meant to something like my hand.

“Where have you been staying?  I know you haven’t been back to the tool shed, not that I can blame you.  I don’t honestly know what would happ…….”

I took a deep breath.  “I’ve been staying around.  Crashed a couple nights with Max, otherwise wherever I can park my truck and not be bothered.  Out here quite a bit actually.  It’s warm at night now that it’s summer.”

He nodded.

“But you’re free now, right?”

I looked over at him confused, “What?”

He smirked and instead of answering, opened the door and climbed out of the truck. He grabbed his stuff from the back of the truck and headed towards the rocks, farther into the shade.  I opened my door but didn’t get out of my truck, waiting to see what he was up to.

Alex pulled a blanket out of his backpack and spread it out on the ground, then set the basket down, opened it up and pulled out a bag with the Crashdown logo on it. He then reached back in and pulled out two milkshakes that looked more melted shake than frozen.  Then out came a bag of doritos, followed by a bag of peanut butter M&Ms.  I chuckled and climbed out, sitting down next to him, looking at him questioningly.

Alex looked a bit embarrassed and chuckled, “OK I had to improvise, and had whatever the 7-11 had to select from with a limited budget.”

I laughed, “Alex, I will NOT be complaining about your food selection.”  I didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t really had much more to eat than a snickers in the last day or so. “I guess I’m more confused as to what all this is actually about.  But again, not complaining!”

Alex pulled cheeseburgers and fries from the Crashdown bag.  He pushed one of the burgers towards me.

“When you ran away from home, how long did you have til you turned 18?”

I wasn’t sure where that question was going, and didn’t want to correct him as I so automatically did with Max and Izzy when they’d call a foster placement my home, or say my dad when I’d cut them off with ‘foster father’ or something. Instead, I answered without even thinking about it.

“One year, seven months, sixteen days.  Why?”

Alex’s eyes got big as he quickly did math and realised how long I had been living in my truck before he found me behind the bleachers at school that fateful day.

“Wait, you’ve lived out of your truck for over a year and a half?!”

I shrugged, not sure what to say to that.  He seemed to collect himself quickly, like he was determined to get himself back on whatever track he had been on before my answer threw him off.

“So now you’re free, right?”  He asked this as he pulled a small, thin candle out of the front of the backpack and pushed it into the hamburger bun sitting in front of me.  He then pulled out a lighter and lit the candle.

“Happy 18th Michael.  Make a wish.”

I immediately felt that sting in my eyes and tickle in my nose, but pushed it down, refusing to even let a tear start to form in the corner of an eye.  Leave it to Alex Manes to know what this day was to me. It was the first birthday to me that held any significance to me, yet like all the others, went ignored by the rest of the world.  Max and Isobel had wished me a happy birthday that morning, but they didn’t say anything about what this day meant to my life.  Age eighteen.  No longer a ward of the state.  CPS no longer had to keep tabs on me, wouldn’t put me in another shit placement where I could be abused, neglected, anything.  Completely on my own.  Alone.

Leave it to Alex to instead see it as my liberation, my independence day.

I watched the flame for a moment.

“I think, sitting here, I already got my wish.  I am getting a meal, and I have you.  What else could I ask for?”

Alex blushed and looked down.  “Guerin, you’re not supposed to say what your wish is out loud. Now blow the candle out before it ruins your bun and you can’t eat around the wax.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d eat the wax and all if it meant food.  I just blew it out.  He then reached for a fry and threw it at me.  I tried to catch it in my mouth but it bounced off my nose and landed in the sand next to the blanket.  I grabbed it, blew the sand off, and tossed it into my mouth.

“Michael that still had sand on it!”

“Hey, waste not, want not.”

He shook his head and passed me a melted milkshake.  I paced myself as I ate the burger and fries, trying to play it cool and not give away how hungry I was.  In that year and a half, and long before to be honest, I had learned to pace eating. Make it look like you’re not hungry, that it doesn’t matter.  It kept adults from looking at you with pity, or with anger.  It kept Max and Iz from looking at me like a charity case.  But I could see in Alex’s eyes – he saw through it all.  He knew. It’s probably why he got all the other snacks.

We ate in silence, both afraid to say something to mess the moment up.  Once the slurping sound of straws sucking empty milkshake cups filled the space, we both laughed and stood up.  Alex slowly approached me, looking hesitantly at me before raising his arms to take me into an embrace.  I returned the gesture quickly, pulling him for a hug, taking comfort in the feeling of him around me again, the smell of his hair, his body wash.  I didn’t want to think about what he was smelling from me.  But he didn’t seem to care.

Alex looked into my eyes and went in for a kiss, gentle and a bit tentative.  The last time we did this, it did not end well for either of us.  But we were in my desert, not his tool shed, and his dad was nowhere to be found, so I pushed into his mouth, deepening the kiss.  We stumbled back and fell onto the blanket, laughing as we pushed the empty food wrappers out of the way.  Hands fumbling, groping, running up and down bodies.  Mouths on each other, on necks.  Hands in hair, grabbing the back of necks.  After a few frantic minutes of us reuniting with the electric emotions of two who had been apart too long, we settled into a more caring pace, frantic touches becoming more caressing, more reverent with each other.

Eventually we pulled apart, both panting, trying to catch our breaths.

Alex looked around, “It’s starting to get dark.  We should move to the back of your truck and off the ground.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I don’t think I need to have any scorpions or other critters join us.”

I grabbed the blanket while Alex grabbed the backpack and basket, putting the rest of the snacks back inside.  He tossed them into the cab of the truck while I spread my sleeping bag and blanket out, adding his to the back of the truck.  He came around to the tail gate where I was sitting, my legs swinging back and forth off the back end.  He stilled the movement of my legs and slid between them, leaning forward to capture me in another kiss.

I broke the kiss and started to slide back into the truck, laying down on the blankets, Alex climbing into the truck and following.  Lazy kisses turned into a passionate make out session.  At some point, shirts came off, as did jeans.  In the growing darkness, we jerked each other off, coming together and locking together in a tight embrace.  After several minutes of catching our breaths and slowing our heart rates, we cleaned up and put our jeans back on, leaned back against the cab of the truck, Alex leaning against my chest.  We sat there for who knows how long, fingers touching each other across our chests, up and down his back or my arms.  The stars came out in full force, and soon the glow of the cloud that makes up the Milky Way stood out above us.  Who knows how long we sat there.

Maybe some dates mean something more than others.  Up to today, they limited my options, kept me at the mercy of whatever control CPS put around my life.  But today, this day?

Alex looked up at me before tucking his head back under my chin, leaning against my chest.

“Happy 18th Michael.”

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