#i repainted her face 3 or 4 times

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL / 5: All Is Fair In Love & War

Chapter 4 / Masterlist

Summary: 5.5K/ f!reader, dark!joel, bfd!joel, brat tamer!joel

“You were infiltrating his space, now. You stayed still, and she mumbled something. You pressed, “keep watching” on the screen and let the TV voices drown out your reality- the one in which Joel is awake, unknowing that you’re in his house and in his daughters bed.”

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, knife play, lil bit of blood play, breath play, choking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive joel, pet names, praise kink, p in v sex, face fucking, dirty talk <3, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth + a little more this time.

A/N: SHIT’S HAPPENING! I got a little carried away. Lemme know what you think, please? 🤍

“How do you love?”

“Like a fist. Like a knife.”

- Ada Limón

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

You had surrendered the recollection of what it felt like to be touched, held, a long time ago. For the person touching you to feel you for themselves, too.

A delicate pass, the very essence of tenderness has materialized into his calloused fingertips. Small hairs from his beard kissing your skin, just as his lips brush up and down your neck. He’s breathing into you, the condensation is warm, making your own sweat drip. Lips whispering, gliding along the delicate curve of your neck, his movement like a goddamn poem.

His fingers dipping into your depth, wet from prodding in your mouth.

Pleasure and pain, almost annoyance at how good it feels. It tickles. It feels wrong, even. Joel dips down and licks your sweat pooling in a tucked-in spot between your collar bones.

It feels heavy with guilt. It feels safe. His thick arms are holding you against his body, he’s making promises in your ear.

It’s not real, though- it’s a dream. A dream you’ve been having for days, over and over. But it never really leaves when you wake, either.

It’s what Joel felt like- will feel like when you meet again. The familiar gnawing in your chest aches. Where does the feeling of him end, and I begin? Am I finally lost within? I’d stay here forever. Maybe that’s what I was meant for… to be lost in the chest of a man in my own brain.

9:45pm, sat on either side of Sarah’s bed in her still-pink room that she’d outgrown years ago.

“Dad says he’ll repaint it once I promise I’ll stay here until I graduate, during the summers at least,” she had said. “I guess that gives me more time to see you since you’ll be here now too.” You corrected her, “Until I can move out of my parent’s house again. Maybe I’ll just live here, it’s better than going back there.” Sarah frowned at the joke, knowing what you had shared about your family to her.

What were you doing? Joking about staying here. This was Joel’s house. He was asleep two doors down. Now wasn’t the best time to be making jokes, but it felt easier than trying to face what was truly happening.

Sarah had promised he was sleeping whenever you snuck through the back door, putting her finger to her lips to quiet you when you were suddenly falling over the molding on the way in the door. You’d never been one for graceful movements.

She held in her giggles all the way until her door was closed, though.

“Were you trying to wake the sleeping bear?”

“Maybe,” you giggled.

And that was the truth. You were terrified, but you wanted him to know you were here.

You were angry at him, but you wanted him. You wanted to see his room, not through a computer screen on a cam website- but in person. You wanted to be near him.

You were infiltrating his space, now.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

It had been 6 days since Joel had shown his face. It had also been 6 days and few minutes less whenever he had left the bathroom you two shared. He decided not to share his plan with you, once again. You were a puppet in his game.

‘Break with him? For him?’ You had, momentarily on the bathroom floor. The sobs were clawing their way out unmercifully, but you also didn’t want to stop them. You had believed what he told you. He held you like a little girl, arms wrapped around you in safety. And you had listened and believed. Why? When has a man ever followed through in their promises to you?

He had left you in the bathroom, fending for yourself on how to clean up the mess he made. He had cleaned up the visible mess of your cum, his, sure, but not what he awoke inside of you.

You looked into the mirror and formed a half smile, looking at the faint shadow of where your mascara had been running.

Your neck was red where he’d wrapped his hand around you.

You took a few more deep breaths and then patted down your dress. There, on the inside of your thigh was his fingertips, branded into your body from force.

You wanted to tattoo him on your body, make him permanent. But you also wanted to scream and throw a fit against his chest. You felt like a child.

When you got tired of looking into your own eyes, you went to go face the truth.

Sarah had found you first, immediately boring into you. Her face was disappointed, frowning. You knew in that moment that she was gone, months of friendship thrown away.

She knew, she knew that there was something going on between you and Joel. She knew you fucked him in that bathroom. She knew he’d been paying you to ruin yourself for him.

You waited for a sharp pain, a crying voice, something.

She quickened her pace and ran to you after she could see that physically, you were fine. But she didn’t hit you. She wrapped you in her arms and the breath you had been unknowingly holding, released. She whispered to you, still holding you tight.

Suddenly the world was spinning, for probably the fifth time that night. But when was the last time you felt like you were standing on solid ground, anyways?

“Dad told me, I’m so sorry, I had no idea or I would have beat his ass myself, I swear to God.” She released from the hug and held you at arms length, looking you over.

You’ve never been a good liar, praying that your eyes wouldn’t give it away. ‘I’m fucking your dad.’

She looked like Joel in that moment, sounded like him. Concerned, brow set downward.

Joel was standing a few feet away, facing you while Sarah’s back was to him. He was smiling ever-so-lightly here and there as your family talked at him, his eyes lifted from his dad’s face to you. You imagined your eyes were wide, still red from tears, from being handled by him… fucked into the concrete wall.

Your eyes returned to Sarah as she started again.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone! How could you not tell me! I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the time. I just thought you would have told me that he wasn’t treating you right, that he was supposed to be here on your big day. I’m sorry.” She said again, softer, realizing she was getting worked up about the ‘wrong’ part of the story, and you probably couldn’t handle that energy at the moment.

You dared look at Joel again, the indention between his brows was visible for a few moments, he nodded his head towards you, looking at you through his eyelashes after looking down at his feet. Play along. Stop choking. Stop starin’.

You returned to her gaze, as she waited for your response.

God damnit, answer her…. C’mon Birdie.

You could still feel his fingers in the back of your throat.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry. I just thought it would turn out differently. He seemed so sweet and interested in me and that usually doesn’t happen so I ju-“

She cut you off, shhhh’ing you.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. This mystery man has spent too much of your time tonight.”

He had told your parents the same story, and they believed him. So much so they didn’t even care to ask you anything, all you got was a “sorry” nod from your mom. Your dad was too busy talking to other family members, probably telling them how hard he worked to get you here.

And yet again, here you were, the victim in a string of lies that weren’t even your own.

The story was simple: you had been seeing some guy for a few months and invited him here to meet your parents on your big night. He didn’t show- and when Sarah came in all excited talking about Chase, it made you upset. Joel followed you because he thought you were upset that he was there without notice, and he didn’t want to worry anyone else in the gallery by bringing your parents into it.

It was good. Why are you surprised? You knew he was a good liar. All your fucking encounters had been premeditated- even today. Maybe even this one, in where he sticks his fingers inside of you and fucks you to tears, then blames it on some other guy.

But it didn’t surprise you how quickly they fell under his spell. You did the same, and all it took was whispered filth in his deep, vibrating voice. All it took was his fist wetly wrapped around his throbbing cock.

Your emotions were never really taken into consideration, and this was another one of those moments- but this time you were grateful. No one asked questions about the mystery asshole again. Except for Sarah.

That’s how you ended up in his house, in her bedroom. You felt like you owed her the ‘truth’ of what happened between you and mystery boy.

You wish the real mystery boy wasn’t her dad. Why couldn’t he have been the neighbor, or some professor from school? You’d never really looked at older men in this manner, before Joel.

Shame was growing deeper amidst the entanglement of lies you felt like you’d eventually get stuck in.

And they were sticking to you, the lies. Thick, heavy. They played themselves over and over in your dreams, dancing in circles and spinning webs.

He whispered to you, “Mine. Mine. Mine, Birdie.” But just in your dreams. You had wings and he washed them gently, petting and taking care of you.

She had texted you at least a hundred times since that night, asking about this guy, wanting to know every detail. So you decided it was best to see her in person, tell her whatever story you could come up with on the spot and then hopefully hear nothing about it again.

“Maybe… maybe I scared him away? I don’t do well with things needing me, or being close to me. Maybe it’s externalized resentment towards the world for having been born as the ‘older sister’ in a broken home, or for having to be the parent of my parents, the house, myself. I don’t like dogs jumping on me and licking me, I don’t like the grabby hands of children, I hate when my mother asks me a question that she could easily figure out herself,” you finish, out of breath from quickly trying to get your thoughts out before they left. Or maybe before you realized who you were telling your secrets to.

And that was the truth. You knew you’d been a shit friend to Sarah. You couldn’t see it getting any better from here, but you also somehow knew what would be worse: losing him even though he wasn’t even yours. He felt lodged in your chest like he was an integral part of your body and its ability to work.

“I think that makes sense,” she nods. “You were in survival mode, you didn’t have enough energy for extra anything- including relationships or extra overstimulation. That’s how dad is, too. I’ve begged him for years to acknowledge the pain, but then put it down for a while. Or let someone hold it with him, at least. He grew up similarly to you, I think.” She pondered on. “I think he would do well with someone caring for him. You too.”

“Uh…” you stuttered, “yeah. He seems like he’s had a rough go at it. From what you’ve told me at least. I remember him being sad that summer he worked on the shed, too, but I guess I just assumed it was cause you weren’t there n’ he missed you. I don’t remember a lot of it though, to be honest.”

“‘Don’t know,” she trails, “he’s always been like that. Even before the divorce. He’s been a hell of a lot happier this six months though. He says he doesn’t know why, just ‘feels lighter.’ I assume he’s seein’ someone, just won’t tell me who. Probably Ms. Tammi down the street… he always eyes her when she’s workin’ in the garden. She’s too young for him though, she’s like 35,” She scoffs.

Damn.

35 is a helluva lot better than 24. But this isn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

Sarah continues on, quickly changing the subject and falling into other conversations as you listen intently, happy to not be at the receiving end of questions at the moment.

You can’t help but wonder what Ms. Tammi looks like. It fades quickly, though.

That’s how the majority of the night went, and you were happily exhausted by it all. The nodding, “yes!”’s and “I agree. I agree”’s, the giggling, the comfort in the face of it all.

Around 3am you both settled down and she gave you a blanket that smelled like their home. It was soft, warm. Sarah put New Girl on and she was out in 5 and a half minutes. You always fell asleep last at sleepovers, unsurprisingly. You didn’t sleep well as it is.

Her room was comfy. Boxes were still littered around from what she brought home for the summer. Her pink walls radiated the soft glow and heat of the lamps. Her TV was dancing across the walls, casting shadows. Her windows were open, welcoming in the cooler, muggy night. Cicadas were still singing their lullabies.

Her walls were adorned with proof that she had been taken care of, loved. Pictures of Joel throughout their life, littered under string lights.

She’d always been a photographer, ever since Joel put her first camera in her hand when she was 5. Sarah had lit up talking about it a few hours earlier. She took the family pictures on their vacations- meaning, she attempted to squeeze her and Joel into the frame, considering how much shorter her arms were than his. He let her, not too worried that half of his face was cut out.

“Always knew you were gonna be somethin’ special, kid.” He had told her.

There were the ones of just him, too. Black and white speckled film. He was turned to the side in one, his profile taking up the whole shot, looking forward. He was younger then, more clean shaven and… just smaller. He looked lighter in a different regard. Happier, maybe.

He looked beautiful, but not the way he does now. The years are present in the fine lines of his face- they are there to tell his story. One you didn’t even know yet but wanted to drown in.

The testament to how much Sarah loved Joel was right here. The proof of how much he loves her, staring back. She had a safe childhood, you think.

And you’re jealous because you can see it; the difference in the two of you. No, you don’t want to be like Joel’s daughter in that way… you just… hate having to admit to yourself that the time for that has passed. Your dad never showed up in that way, and he never would.

He wasn’t the one who covers your cuts and carries you to your bed when you fell asleep watching one of his cowboy shows on Saturday night. He was the type of dad that screamed your weaknesses back at you, stabbing through you- except this time through your back and into your chest; not even looking you in the eyes while hurting the little girl within you, again. And again. And again-

Back to Joel, please. You begged your mind. Your hands were shaking, too. The soft hum of Sarah sleeping next to you brought you back. You hate that it makes your heart swell that much more, the fact he took such good care of her. Such good care that she doesn’t have any inkling of what’s going on between her two favorite people.

She’s sleeping peacefully in a place that’s never been a war zone, and yet here you were. Who would be the first causality?

You drift off eventually, uncomfortable at first because you don’t want to move her bed too much, waking her. Eventually you sleep, and you sleep peacefully despite the elephant on your chest. Despite the war on the horizon.

Perhaps this was the best sleep you’d had in years, even. You felt safe in her safety, in Joel’s.

You dreamt about him again, this time he was bleeding.

And then a crashing in the kitchen followed by a muffled “fuck” caused you to gasp out of your nightmare, and Sarah stirred to your entire body stiffening.

You stayed still, and she mumbled something. You pressed, “keep watching” on the screen and let the TV voices drown out your reality- the one in which Joel is awake, unknowing that you’re in his house and in his daughters bed.

But God, you have to pee. He scared the shit out of you. You raised off the bed slowly, making sure not to wake her. It had been five or so minutes since the sound, and nothing else had happened. He’s probably getting ready for work, you convinced yourself.

On a Saturday?

You check your phone to see if he had texted you. 5:46am. A new habit you’d formed in the past week since your last encounter. Nothing. Still.

So you tiptoed to the door and cracked it, letting the light from the TV guide you. Her bathroom was three doors down, she had told you earlier in the night. There was a nightlight on, too. You could see it pouring out from under the door.

No other lights in the house, or at least upstairs, seemed to be on. Joel had either left for work or went back to bed, whatever he was doing seemed done.

You cursed at yourself for not bringing your phone with you to use as a light, but it was one long hallway… you could do it. Deep breaths.

You made it halfway when you heard something downstairs and practically peed yourself right then, hurrying your footsteps to the nearest door. You opened it and backed in, looking at the stairs and down the hallway for any sign that he might have seen you.

Nothing. And then a breath that wasn’t yours.

“Oh, now you’re breakin’ and enterin’ into my house? Couldn’t stay away, huh? Coulda just called, Birdie.”

There’s no fucking way.

“Came to see Sarah and didn’t even say hi to your daddy? Mmm, what a shame.” You imagined he was shaking his head, but you couldn’t see too much from the fucking wrong night light in the corner of the wrong fucking room.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl ‘n lay low for a while?”

You turned around, slowly, and there he was. He was in boxers, laying in the bed you’d seen him fuck himself into. It smelled like him in here, too. The sheets were slept in, the same color as the ones he would shoot his spend into, grunting and calling you pretty names.

He was grinning, not even startled by the fact you were somehow standing in his room at 6am.

Lay low? That plan was never shared with you.

Heat washed over you, embarrassment maybe. You wanted to be needed by him, wanted to be grabbed, licked, kissed, handled. You’ve been waiting for him, but he hasn’t reached out. You wanted him to hold you like he held you in that bathroom, except this time you wanted him to push your face into his sheets while he did.

“Answer me,” he growled. He couldn’t have been up for long, his voice still heavy with sleep. It was lower in tone, deeper.

“I’m trying to be a good girl Joel, I-I was just looking for the ba-“

“No. A good girl wouldn’t fuck her best friends dad, n’ call him daddy while doin’ it. She wouldn’t come over and sleep in her bed, just to sneak into her dad’s room, doin’ and lookin’ for god knows what.”

He was enjoying this. He was just as much to blame- no, he was THE person to fucking blame for this.

“That’s fucking unfair, Joel. I came over here to try and put a patch over loose ends that you left whenever you left me in the floor of that bathroom,” you huffed, teary-eyed and still stunned, still sleepy. “I didn’t- I don’t, wanna hurt her.”

He stopped grinning then, sitting up. He didn’t lift his feet off the ground, but you were scared he might.

You felt like that same, scared little girl who was being punished and yelled at for letting a tear slip. But he was fucked just as much as you if this went public, and it emboldened you. You knew he didn’t want to hurt her either.

“You know what’s unfair?” You pointed at him, continuing in his silence.

“You. That I finally made a friend who is so good- so good- and you stalk me? You find me and you use me for some perverted pleasure that your wife didn’t give you, n now I have to pick up the pieces and lie to my best friend?”

He was face-to-face with you, staring down at you, waiting for you to dare open your mouth again. And then, his hand was around your neck and he was forcing you to look into his eyes.

“You don’t know ‘nothin’ ‘bout my ex-wife, don’t ever bring her up again. ‘Specially when you’re standing in my house, in my god damn bedroom. Got it?”

“No.” You gasped out.

His grip tightened.

“No?” He spat in disbelief.

“‘Musta forgot who you answer to. Didn’t know your pussy would forget so fast who she belongs to. Don’t make me put you back in your place, sweetheart.”

His nose meets yours, the hug of your face, faster than his lips. He nudges, wanting more. Sucking, teeth hitting teeth in a want to be as close to each other as possible. He goes for the bottom lip, always, tucking the side of his nose under yours. Gently. Then he returns to your lips and bites down, searching for blood. He get its, and he chuckles.

You gasped into his mouth.

“You need me to ruin you, huh?” He whispered into your hair as he pulled your head to the side, making it easier to suck on your neck. He was nipping at your jaw, licking lines like he had in your dreams. His hands were engulfing you and all you could do was stand there and take it, sucking the pain away from your own lips. Rough palms feeling at you.

You let out a plea for more.

“That’s why you came lookin’ for me? Sweet girl,” he purred, “couldn’t stay away? Want me to take care of you, stretch that tight hole around daddy’s cock, hmm?”

That hit a nerve, deep. You wanted to surrender yourself and hide in his arms. From the world, Sarah, yourself. You wanted to believe what he had whispered to you in the bathroom, you wanted to break against him and rest your bones.

But first, you wanted him to sink his teeth into you. To ruin you. And then maybe he would stick around this time and pick up the pieces.

He was solid, sturdy, safe. You reached up and put your hand on top of his, letting him know this is what you want, giving him the ‘okay’.

He didn’t even need to ask you, you walked closer to his bed and laid yourself over it, ass up, giving yourself to him. He sighed in lust, watching you sink into his sheets, spreading your smell onto them. You turned your head and laid your cheek against the soft, looking up at him.

You spread your legs and struggled out of your shorts, he stepped towards you and ripped them off. You were taking too long. The room was silent, save for both of your breathing.

“This what you needed?” The bed squeaked under you as he pulled you towards the end of and ordered you on your knees. He lined himself up with your core and spit after kissing your cunt with his tip.

The spit hit your pussy, tickling its way down as it dripped. He took his fingers to it, pushing it around and then into your hole. He used it to wet the head of his cock, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos at you, grabbing for the nape of your neck, pulling your hair and hence your head back towards him. It hurt so good, and your neck was at an angle that made it harder for your chest to rise and fall.

He slid into you at the same instance, and the breath you were halfway through caught in your throat, your whole body reacting to his length. Your eyes were watering from the intrusion, from the pain and simultaneous pleasure. He put his palm against your mouth, muting whatever scream had just come out.

And he fucks you while you grunt out sounds each time he hits that spot inside of you. Your eyes roll back, then focus again. His hand blocking not only your mouth but your nose. Your stomach is tighter, trying to fit his size. He’s breathing heavy above you, sweat dripping and falling onto your back, not realizing that he’s cutting off your air supply.

He’s doing what he said he would all of those times, fulfilling the promises he had made. It’s different now than in the bathroom. He was angry then, but he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home. He could do whatever he pleased, now. Sarah under the cover of the whispering TV in her room.

He throws his hips to yours, each one tearing moans from your throat. “There you go.” And suddenly you were seeing faint white lights in the corner of your vision. But you don’t care, you were just tired, blissed out. You felt comfortable under the weight of him, fucking into you. You relaxed and took what he was giving you. Over and over an-

His voice was muffled. He repeated himself.

“Hey, breathe for me, pretty thing.” And you do, forgetting it for a moment. He reached his wrist in front of you, taking your neck between his thumb and pointer finger. “Lemme feel you breathe baby. Gotta listen t’ me.” You sucked in what you could, and he ‘uh huh’ed you, feeling your neck contract and take in the air. “That’s right, just like that. Can’t have you passin’ out on me baby girl. Not there yet.”

He went slower for a moment, aware that he almost suffocated you. But he didn’t stop, and you were glad. He pulled out and decided he’d choke you with his cock, instead. You whimpered at the loss of him from inside of you, but you knew what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him.

You slipped from the bed to the ground, finding it harder to move and get on your knees than you thought. He’d fucked you silly, shaking, raw.

“Can I feel it? Let me feel it.” Ordering, more than allowing, the tip of his cock passed your lips and went straight for the back of your throat. You coughed him out, just for him to return again, dripping your saliva.

“Shhh, shhh, shhhh,” he whispered, grabbing fistfuls of hair on both sides of your head as he fucked his hips into your mouth, relentlessly. You felt something warm, wet drip from you and hit the ground next to your splayed legs beneath you.

“Cumming with my cock in your mouth? Knew you were a’ bad girl.” He was breathless, shocked at how you were letting him play with you, limp, almost. Fucked out. On the verge of passing out.

You didn’t know how many times your stomach had tightened and then released. How many times you came for him. You stopped counting after two, unable to do much of anything. Not wanting to be anything, then the person under his touch. Full of him.

And then you were wearing him again, bent over the edge of his bed, hips hurting from hitting the edge of the mattress.

“Joel,” you managed, “pl- please.”

“Now you’re talkin’? Couldn’t get any words out before. Poor baby. What do you need from me?”

“Hurts, Joel.”

He liked that.

“Want me to stop, then?”

“No,” your voice was hoarse.

“Then what do you need? Can’t give it to ya if you ain’t able to say it.”

“Inside. Cu- oh fuck- cum inside me. Please. Please, please.”

He liked the sound of you begging for him to fill you up.

“N’ whose cunt is this, baby? Who do you want to cum inside you?” And those filthy words pulled another orgasm from your hips.

“Your-“ you mumbled.

“Louder. Use those pretty words you know from goin’ ta school.”

“Yours Joel. This pussy is yours, s’all yours.”

“What a good girl.”

He halted as deep as he could inside of you with a groan, growl-like, and he filled you with his warmth.

He stayed inside, afterwards. Not wanting any of his spend to go to waste outside of your womb.

You didn’t say anything, fighting the urge to just fall asleep where you were, in the comfort of his bed. But you didn’t cry, either. And that was a first. He completely defiled you, yet you weren’t breaking under his touch. You felt like, even if it was fleeting, he broke you and then put you back together right. The correct way.

He pulled out and grunted, and suddenly you felt a soft cloth wiping at your core. He placed soft kisses up and down your shoulders and back as he cleaned you up, your goosebumps the only reaction you gave as you closed your eyes.

A few minutes passed.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, running his hands up and down your bare skin.

“Mhmm,” you let out.

“Look at me, Birdie. Need to hear it.”

You rolled over, more awake from the serious tone in his voice.

“Yes, Joel, I trust you.” But he didn’t looked like he believed you.

“Want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“Whatever you want.” Your patience was wearing thin, you just wanted to curl up and sleep, surrounded by him, surrounded by the smell of him, the safety.

You felt heavy.

He lifted himself off of the bed but you didn’t follow where he went, you caught yourself falling asleep again, so you slightly shook your head in an effort not to.

He returned and a hissing sound sprung through the air. Then immediately, something hard, cold, wet maybe? Slid across your skin. His weight was weighing down the bed as he sat back down next to you.

He moved your hair out of your face, rested your cheek against his palm and spoke clearly.

“Want my initials here, baby.” He was holding a switchblade against the inside of your thigh. “Remind you who you belong to while we figure s’all out.”

You were awake now.

He kept the blade there, but his eyes found yours, searching for an answer, praying you wouldn’t get up and run from him.

Instead, you took his wrist and moved it even closer to your core, on the inside of your thigh.

“How ‘bout… here?”

“S’perfect.”

He got off the bed then, sinking to his knees as he settled you comfortably on your back.

The birds were chirping through the window, the orange sun slipping past the blinds and onto his bed, streaking over his face. You welcomed the pain, if it felt anything like his pleasure. You trusted him. And you know you shouldn’t, but who is going to stop you?

He kissed up your legs, starting by leaving wet marks on the back of your knees. He made it to your nude mound and kissed it, too. Gently, soft.

“You sure?” He asked, for once, giving you an out if you wanted it.

“M’ sure, Joel.” He sighed at the sound of his name leaving your lips, sleepily. He reached your thigh and settled the blade comfortably in his hands.

He kissed you one more time in the spot he had chosen, and then he carved his initials into your body, slowly. Painfully. You hissed.

“Want me t’ stop?” He asked.

“No. It feels good.”

It felt like your own version of love, one both of you shared together, secretly.

The warmth spreed as his tongue followed the blood down your thigh, catching it before it fell to his sheets.

-

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[h-c-u]

The kids are alright

Summary: You're filming some videos around the house for your unborn daughter, while your husband struggles with something.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x fem!reader

W/C: 1.4k

Rating: PG, age gap mentioned, but not specifically stated.

TWs: none

A/N: I love soft Ice the normal amount, your honor. Also, I imagine he's a bit older in the story than he's in the gif, but I just loved it so much...

Masterlist | List of tags | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

- And that would be your room, we just finished painting it... Well, mostly your daddy did because he was scared that something in the paint might be harmful to you, even though we triple-checked and chose the paint that was safe for pregnant women. So he waited till I went to sleep and spent the whole night painting it because he knew that I wouldn't let him do that alone... - you moved the camera, so it would record the light pastel-pink walls and the realistic clouds on the ceiling.

- But I was the one who did the clouds on the ceiling when he was at work, but don't tell him... - you lowered your voice to barely a whisper. - ...because I told him that auntie Flo did all the work, so hush about that. - you couldn't help but smile a bit. - I just really hope you're not going to hate the pink. I mean if you will, we'll, of course, repaint it, but at least for a while, you won't be able to tell us that you hate it. - at first, you really wanted to keep the room as gender-neutral as possible, but as soon as Ice found out you're having a girl, he was just so happy and wanted to do everything he possibly could to welcome his little princess into the world and make everything perfect for your daughter.

You had to fight tooth and nail not to have white furniture in the nursery though, because it would be, well... much too much in your opinion, so you settled on dark wood, which matched nicely with the pink walls and the deep green accessories.

- He just can't wait to meet you... You like that idea too, huh...? - you smiled when you felt her kick. - Ok, let's meet daddy... - you closed the door to the nursery and started walking downstairs step by step, taking your time, so you wouldn't lose your footing and fall. - Oh, you're gonna have so much fun sliding on those stairs on a sled, when you're a toddler, just promise me that you'll make sure to put couch cushions in your landing zone. - you laughed when you finally reached the bottom and pointed the camera toward the living room, where your husband was currently going over some most like very top-secret papers, that you definitely didn't see.

- See, that's your daddy. All serious and focused on work because he's very important and one day you'll understand that. But even though he has to think about keeping a lot of people safe all the time, he still has time for us... Watch his face... - you whispered as if you already had a secret comradely with your daughter. - Ice, baby... - it was all it took for him to put everything away, and look at you. His face instantly relaxed as soon as he laid his eyes on you, and a giant smile crawled onto his lips. - See...? - you've said to the camera. - He loves us so much and I can't wait for you to meet him. - you waddled towards the couch like a happy penguin, trying to keep the camera on Tom's face.

- What are you doing, dove? - he asked, even though it was pretty obvious. He gently pulled you onto the couch, and you turned the camera around, so now the two of you were in the shot.

- So remember when Florence mentioned the idea of filming the stuff for the baby? I'm doing exactly that... So we'll remember everything and one day she'll be able to see how cool her parents are. - you both laughed and he pulled you into a closer hug, almost forcing you onto his lap. - Do you want to tell her anything? - you asked, trying your best to keep the heavy camera steady, but your hands started to shake a bit, so Ice took it from your hands and you placed a small kiss on his cheek.

- Please be good to your mama... Don't kick her too much and all that. - you couldn't help but laugh when he put his hand on your stomach just as your daughter decided to ignore his request.

- She's gonna be a rebel. - you said through laughter. - Already not listening to her dad, and yet I bet that one look from her, and Mr. Ice-cold-no-mistakes will melt. - this time, he was the one who laughed.

- Yeah, that's true... So please don't abuse that. And just know that we love you very, very much... - he ended the recording and put the camera on the coffee table. Even though he was smiling, you knew that something was bothering him.

- What's wrong...? - you asked, and he sighed heavily, hiding his face in the nook of your neck, seeking every bit of comfort he could.

- I can't tell you... I wish I could, but I really can't, because I promised... - he mumbled against your skin, and you reached back with your right hand and started playing with his hair... It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you knew he needed it.

- Hmmm... So get this... I was thinking about writing a novel, where the main character is in the military and is struggling with a moral dilemma about his job, that could affect many, many lives... - you started and he laughed straight into your neck, which tickled, but you still didn't move away.

- It's not that kind of dilemma, dove... It's more of a request from a friend and I'm completely torn about it... - you moved away from him a little bit, but not for long because as soon as you found a comfortable position, you gently maneuvered him to lay down on your lap and you started playing with his hair. He already lived through a lot, and yet he still cared.

- Hmmm... So Maverick asked you to pull Bradley's papers... - you stated and he looked at you with surprise. - I might be young, but I'm not stupid. And I have great hearing. - you smiled and continued to gently run your fingers through his hair. It was easy for you to overhear or notice things because people either weren't threatened by you or ignored you, assuming you weren't important. Mav, of course, knew who you were since the day Ice met you, because he was there, convincing him to shoot his shot, but still... You were able to notice things he wanted to hide from the rest of the world. And even though you met Bradley only in passing, he was easier to read than a children's book; all emotions painted on his face with a contrast marker. - And now that we've established that I know, can you tell me why he wants to pull his papers? - you asked and he closed his eyes, considering his options, finally deciding on sharing this burden with you.

- He promised Carole before she died, that he wouldn't let him fly... - he sighed heavily, slowly melting into your touch.

- Now, that's just stupid. - you weren't exactly surprised. - Bradley is a grown-ass man, and he'll definitely find a way to do what he wants. Especially considering that it's the only way he knows how to connect with his dad... - Ice opened his eyes again and looked at you, waiting for you to continue, so you did. - I understand that Mav wants to keep his promise and keep him safe, but he would be much more successful in keeping him safe if he actually taught the kid how to fly in a safe environment, letting him find that connection outside the navy... - Bradley was only a couple of years younger than you, but you still felt like there was at least a generation separating you. - And the kid's gonna find out sooner or later that Pete asked you to pull his papers. Do you really think Mav can handle losing another Bradshaw? - Tom clenched his jaw, but as soon as you ran your finger over it, he relaxed. - How about you invite them both for dinner... I'm gonna cook something nice, and we're gonna talk it through... And just so we're clear, I will spill all the beans and blame it on the pregnancy, since apparently none of you knows how to communicate like adults. - he finally laughed and relaxed in your lap. He could easily find the best solution to a military conflict, but navigating a complicated issue when his friend was involved...? He forgot all about his training.

- I love you. - he smiled and closed his eyes again.

- I know. - normally you would lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead, but your belly made that impossible. Fortunately, your daughter helped you and kicked him right in the cheek. 

#my writing #Top Gun Fanfiction #Tom Kazansky fic #Tom Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #🖤

[tartarusknight]

King of the Freaks | Part 7

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Steve had the guys over maybe twice a week as time went on, and Thanksgiving was just around the corner. Some days when they were over, Steve stayed out on purpose on others he curled up on one of the couches to watch them. And for the first time, he finds himself with others more than he is alone. Monday and Thursday are Hellfire. Steve still has swimming on Tuesday and Thursday but they already stopped doing Hellfire on Tuesday for him, he wasn’t going to let them shift to another day than Thursday. Most Wednesdays he spends with Dustin at the least. Sometimes more of the kids tag along but he doesn’t mind. He’ll give Max a ride home if Billy drives off without her. And he’ll babysit Will if both Jonathan and Joyce are busy.

 Weekends are still quiet but sometimes they radio him and ask for rides. But they’re generally quiet. He tries not to hate them but he does. He tries to stay busy by trying out recipes Jeff gave him or doing homework with the radio playing loudly but it never works. The sun goes down and Steve ends up next to the pool. He’ll sit and hug his legs to his chest. He’ll spiral until he’s shaking from the cold and barely awake. The sun starting to light up the sky. Then he’ll head in and head down to the couches in the basement. The radio on the floor next to the sofa as he passes out. Using the small throw pillows and blankets as he falls asleep.

 Rinse and repeat. Well, for the most part.

 Steve woke up from a pounding on his door and groaned. “Steve! I know you're in there!” Dustin’s voice called through the house and Steve stumbled up from the couch. He stopped at a mirror and ran his hands through his hair a few times before the pounding truly annoyed him. He pulled it open and on his steps were Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will.

 He crossed his arms and noticed Will murmur, “told you he wasn’t going to be up yet.”

Lucas glared at the other, “everyone’s up early on Sundays.”

Steve ran a hand over his face, “nope. Now, what do you gremlins want? Please tell me that Tews hasn’t been eaten this time.” He sighed and got a few snickers but Dustin huffed.

“My mom has brunch with her friends,” Dustin starts.

“Our moms,” Lucas adds.

Dustin shoves at Lucas, “and we wanted to go shopping for Snowball.”

 Steve blinks but then Dustin’s pushing his way inside. “So, come on and get dressed.” He stated, heading up towards where Steve’s bedroom was.

“Hey, dipshit,” Steve calls and waves the others in before jogging up the stairs to see Dustin pulling out a sweater and jeans for Steve. “Wow, Steve I would totally appreciate it if you spent your Sunday taking me and my friends shopping. Would that be alright with you?” Steve said in a mocking, high-pitched tone.

 Dustin rolled his eyes, “why’s your bed made? Did you make it before answering the door?” He asked instead. Steve groaned but changed into the clothes Dustin grabbed.

“I fell asleep on the couch,” he shrugged and headed into his bathroom. Brushing his teeth and grabbing a few things for his hair.

As he multitasked, Dustin snooped. “Is this car your dream car?” Dustin questioned and Steve shook his head, mouth full. “Has your room always been this color?” Another shake of his head. “I always wanted to repaint my room, you think I could convince my mom? Is it hard? What did you do?”

 Steve didn’t want to say that his mom goes through phases about every two years where she redoes the house to her liking. The old furniture goes to the basement or is tossed out. The walls whatever design she saw in the magazine. That his dad lets her do it to keep her happy. That Steve had never once picked out anything for his room, not even his sheets. He just lets his mom toss everything out of his room and redo it however she wanted. Hanging up a stupid car because it’s a boy's room, Stephen.

 He rinses his mouth and moves on to his hair. “Your room looks nice,” he says instead and Dustin sighs before launching into why he wants something new. Steve stays silent, just listening. Then he hears rustling and looks over to see Dustin pulling out the nail bat. The one he hid under his bed but apparently not enough if Dustin was able to find it that easily. “Do you play baseball?”

Steve washed the products off his hands, “Not with that." He jokes but at the glare he answers, "yeah. Baseball, swimming, and basket- and I used to be in basketball.” He fixes his hair up a little more before turning to see Dustin swing the bat with no proper form. “Come on,” he motions Dustin out of his room before tossing the bat back under his bed.

 The others are all over his living room and Mike is snacking on some of the chips Jeff left. “Hey dumbass, those aren’t yours.” He glares and plucks the bag from his hands. Folding it and moving to put it away.

“Why do you have chips here if you don’t eat them?” Mike questions and Steve pauses, looking back with a confused face. “Nancy told me that you don’t eat junk food.” The words feel like ice flowing through his spine. Of course, Nancy noticed how little he ate… she just didn’t see the truth.

He clears his throat, “their leftovers from the other night. My-” Friend? He shrugs and shoves them into the pantry.

 “Let’s get a move on,” he orders and the kids shuffle to the car. Only for Steve to realize there’s not enough room in his car. He looks at the car and the group of kids who decided to make him a babysitter. Sure, he could make them squish but it’s more than just an arcade run. “Fuck it, I’m gonna call a friend, then we can use their van.” He sighs and the kids complain that he’s taking forever even though he’s sped through everything this morning for the little shits.

 He goes to the phone and stares at it for a long moment. What if Eddie was busy? What if he didn’t want to deal with Steve today? What if-

“Are you going to just stare at the phone or use it?” Max snarked and Steve snaps into motion. Dialing Eddie’s number with far more ease than he should have. He’s called the man a few times. And sure Eddie’s been calling him most nights to say good night but he shouldn’t be so used to calling.

 It rings and he is almost ready to give up when it clicks and he hears a gruff, "hello?"

Steve freezes, Eddie's Uncle must have answered. Fuck. "Uh, hi Mister Munson, is Eddie there?" He asks awkwardly and shifts, watching the kids pile around his island, watching him. 

Then a muted yell then another before he talks into the phone, "he's coming."

 There's shuffling, then a tired “yeah?” Then a big yawn.

Steve glances at the time and feels bad, 9:07. He clears his throat anyways. “Hey, um, it’s Steve?” He says awkwardly and gets a snort from Max. All the kids waiting impatiently next to her. He glares over at them and flips her off before he makes a big shooing motion. When none of them move he looks to Lucas and Will who take pity on him and shove the others out of the room.

 There’s a pause before a smack and “Steve? Hey, what’s up?” Eddie’s voice sounds cheerful and it’s a giant leap from earlier.

“Uh, yeah, I was- well the kids I babysit were wanting to go shopping for Snowball, you know the dance? And my car can’t fit all of them. I was wondering if you wanted to join me. Or if I could just borrow the van. You don’t have to waste your day on me. I just- It’s not safe and I-”

“Slow down, sweetheart. Of course, I want to spend the day with you.” Eddie cuts in and Steve’s chest does something funny.

 Steve blinks, trying to shake off the weird feeling, “right. Yeah, great. Uh, I can meet you at the trailer. Sorry it’s so early, they literally woke me up knocking on my door. They’re little shits,” he tries to laugh but he’s too tired to get it perfect.

“No, problem, Stevie. I’ll have enough time by the time you get here to get ready.” There’s muffled noise on the other side before a laugh from Eddie. “Yeah, Wayne told me to get out and get some sun so, sounds like a perfect thing to do. See ya soon, darling.” Then the phone disconnected and Steve was left with Eddie’s laugh in his mind. An echo of sweetheart, Stevie, and darling in his mind.

 He scrubbed a hand over his face before marching the kids out and letting them squish in with Max in the passenger seat. Max fiddles with the radio until she’s satisfied with a Blondie song. “So, this friend of yours…” Dustin drawls out and Steve glances back at him in the mirror.

“What?” Steve questions and Mike scoffs.

The little asshole looks disappointed before they even see Eddie. “We’re not gonna have to deal with another jock, are we?”

“I didn’t think you had any other friends,” Max said and Steve’s gaze snapped back to the road.

 His hands tighten on the wheel but he can’t get mad. He doesn’t even know if he and Eddie are really friends after all. Maybe Jeff is his friend but the rest of them… well, all of them could be pitying him. “Yeah, I get it. Laugh it up,” he says sarcastically. “Just behave, I don’t need you scaring him off before we even get in the van.” He states and puts on a mask that is well-worn.

 The kids complain and argue but when they come to a stop in front of the Munson trailer they do quiet down. They let Steve walk up to the door alone and he knocks softly. The door swings open and an older man stands there in a flannel and jeans. “Uh, you must be Wayne, er, Mister Munson, sir? I’m Steve, uh, Harrington. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he says awkwardly and Wayne raises an eyebrow at the hand Steve offers before taking it.

“Just Wayne’s fine kid.” He says and waves Steve in. Steve glances back at the kids and makes an I’m watching you gesture before he slips into the trailer. “Ed’s just finishin’ up. He’s not an early bird,” Wayne muses and he picks up a chipped mug from a fishing tournament it seemed.

 “I’m so close to being done,” Eddie calls from the room in the back and Steve can’t help but smile.

Wayne clears his throat, “so, Harrington, huh?” He questions and Steve goes rigid. He looks over at the man and he seems to be looking for something. He must find something because he frowns a little and takes a sip from his mug. “I didn’t care for your daddy.”

Steve smiles weakly, “You wouldn’t be the only one.”

The older man nods and waves him towards Eddie’s room, “go hurry my boy up or you’ll be here all day.”

 Steve nods sharply and goes to head back but Wayne stops him one more time. “And kid, you’re always welcome here.” He states and Steve knows who Eddie got his sheep herding habits from. He smiles and nods before he knocks on the frame of what had to be Eddie’s room. The door swings in from the knock and he leans in the doorway, the perfect image of calm and cool.

 He takes in the mess, the posters, the guitar, and the fucking handcuffs. Steve swallows hard and looks at Eddie who’s digging through a pile of clothes. “Sorry, I’m not finding my wallet. I think it’s in a pair of jeans or maybe a hundred different places. I’m not actually sure. Like I’ve tried going back from when I last remember having it but…” Eddie groans as another pair of jeans is empty.

 Steve moves further into the room to offer a hand but when he clears his throat, something else comes out. “Can you not say anything about Billy?” He blurts out instead of an offer to help look or a joke. It comes out all nervous and awkward like it couldn’t be stopped.

Eddie pauses and looks over at Steve, “yeah, course. I wouldn’t make you seem uncool or-”

 Steve laughs a little dejected, “dude. Trust me when I say they don’t think I’m cool. They watched my ass get beat by Billy already. I just- I don’t need them to know that he’s still, you know?”

Eddie stands and looks like he wants to pull Steve into another hug like the other day. (A hug that Steve still didn't fully understand but liked anyways.) But he doesn’t, he just nods. “Don’t worry, you’re secret’s safe with me,” He promises.

 Then he leans in close to Steve, arm brushing Steve’s neck until he pulls back with his wallet in his hand. “My backpack,” he grins and Steve glances back to see the bag hooked on the back of the door. Steve can only nod, his mouth dry as Eddie heads back towards the front door. He shakes himself and follows after him.

 When they get out they see Lucas and Mike arguing, Max and Dustin looking into Eddie’s van, and Will awkwardly watching it all. Steve clears his throat loudly and puts his hands on his hips. They all give him an innocent smile that only Will makes convincing. “Dipshits, meet Eddie,” he gestures to Eddie who’s got his black ripped jeans, an iron maiden shirt, a red flannel, and his leather jacket over it all.

 Mike blinks and immediately is bitchy, “wow. I didn’t think you’d have non-preppy friends.”

Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Wheeler you’re on thin ice.” He states and glances over at Eddie with an apologetic face. “Eds meet Max, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and the only nice one, Will.” He points them all out and Eddie’s face goes through a few different emotions.

 “Okay, so let me get this straight,” Eddie starts and glances over at Steve, then the kids, then back to Steve. “You babysit Nancy’s younger brother, Jonathan’s younger brother, and Billy’s younger-”

“Stepsister,” Max interrupts with a sour look on her face.

“And Steve’s our friend, not just a babysitter,” Dustin adds looking a little annoyed to be labeled as a kid Steve babysat.

Steve moves and ruffles Dustin’s hair, “course, Henderson.”

 Eddie nods and tosses the keys up into the air and catches them. “Well, little ones I believe it’s time to embark on our adventure.” He says in his DM voice that has Steve smiling. The kids perk up and once the doors are unlocked, they scramble into the crowded back. It's messy back there but Steve knows Eddie keeps it clean enough for the boys to fit in when they need to.

 Steve sits in the front seat and jumps as the van starts up with loud music blaring. Eddie swears and quickly turns it off. “Right, yep,” Eddie gives Steve a small, embarrassed smile. “Uh, where to?”

However, it’s not Steve who answers but Dustin. Dustin’s head peaks out from the back, “we’re looking for stylish dance attire.”

Steve mouths stylish dance attire to himself as Eddie glances at the kid with a smile of approval. “You know Dustin Henderson, I think you and I are going to be good friends.”

  @zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137  @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo  @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills @prideandsensibility @iwouldsail @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @spectrum-spectre @the-chilly-kat @yearningagain @loopsmd @starlight-archer @sleepy-time @goodolefashionedloverboi  @crazyshipper67  @sherrylyn628  @bidisastersworld  @v3lnys  @n0connections  cherixxx69  theotalksalot  tailsfromthecrypt  ledleaf  grimmfitzz  @pyrohonk

(SORRY I CAN’T TAG ANYMORE PEOPLE!)

#the kids!!!! #season 2 au #pre-steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #high school au #hellfire club #wayne munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #the fallen king and the king of the freaks

[levis-coffeecup]

chapter 22| Lovesick

WC-3.9k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hi guysss!!!

I'm sorry it's been soo long. But the next chapter is finally out!!

It's similar to the Trost fair chapter, if anyone remembers... but the scene is rewritten. And scene 2 and 3 are completely different! Also, if you find any grammatical errors please comment about it to let me know!

Song for this chapter is Seneca by Novo Amor.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

SEPT 847

The streets are muddy, the clouds are gray, and Levi shakes off the muck from his boots as he stands in front of Mae's door.It's been a minute since he's been knocking on her door, and still there's been no answer.

His lips pull into a frown. As much as he hates to admit this, he likes to be welcomed by her jumping into his arms.

His fingers slide down to his pocket, bringing out the spare keys to her home that he always keeps. And he opens the door.

The walls have been repainted yellow. She's knitted colorful pillow covers to keep on the settee. His favorite books are all stacked on the shelf. And the kitchen is always stocked with all kinds of tea.

His gaze turns soft as he takes it all in. Mae has taken her sweet time to make her house theirs.

He climbs up the stairs, making his way to the bedroom.

The curtains are drawn close. And Mae sits on the bed, huddled in a thick blanket. Her face is almost red, and her eyes are dull, clearly unwell. The sight makes Levi freeze at the door frame.

"I knew it was you...," Mae beams with pride, her voice scratchy. "I could tell by your footsteps."

Her forehead is burning up, and it hurts to smile through the pain. But she's so ecstatic to see Levi, she can't help herself. "I want a kiss." Her lips shift into a cheeky grin, and she stretches her arms forward, towards him.

And Levi leans on the doorframe, meters away from her. Unsure of what to feel.

They've only kissed a few times before. But the thought still knocks the wind right out of his lungs.

"N-no, you are sick. Stay away from me." He somehow manages.

"Humanity's strongest can handle a little fever, can't he?" She teases.

"Tch.. y-you're so gross." He pivots and walks away. Only to come around a minute later. With his hands cleaned, and his clothes fresh.

"You're burning up." He scolds as he keeps her hand on her forehead. "How the hell did you end up like this?"

"The weather change-" she coughs.

"Ssh," he silences her off. "Don't talk, your voice is almost gone."

He goes back down again and comes up with some water in a bowl and a clean napkin. "How many times have I told you to not be so careless," His voice is almost angry, but Mae doesn't miss the concern woven in it. "And why didn't you write to me and let me know that you were unwell?"

The tray is set down on the nightstand. And he drags the chair from her work desk, to sit next to her.

"It's just been two days, and a letter takes a week to reach... I'm sure I would have been fine by then."

"Tch," Levi frowns. He dips the napkin into the bowl of water. Squeezing it out and putting it on her forehead. It's cooling, and Mae shuts her eyes close. Warmed by his love.

"Should I call a doctor?" He suggests, a few minutes later.

"Levi! I am a doctor..." she retorts.

"Well congratulations then Ms. Doctor, for falling ill." He grumbles, pissed. The space between his brows is crinkled, and he seems incredibly focused keeping a wet cloth on her forehead.

The relentlessness in his actions gives away his stress.

And Mae doesn't understand why he's getting so paranoid over this. It's a simple fever, that's all, nothing she hasn't had before.

It takes her a minute to realize that his mother died of sickness, too. And perhaps what is making him act this way are the wounds that have been left long forgotten.

Her face softens, and she places her hand over his lap.

"Take a breath Levi. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon." Her hand lands on his, she gently squeezes it in reassurance.

And Levi's icy blue eyes widen for a millisecond, before he catches himself. Then he grunts, pressing his lips into an unamused line.

"Try to sleep, instead of staring at me," grumbles. He grabs her shoulders as he helps her lay on her back. Then he tucks her in the blanket, for good measure

"You're not mad that I'm unwell, right? I know you're here to take a break... but I don't have anything prepared as I was sick yesterday too..."

"No shithead, why would I be?" he questions, as he blinks at her. There are words buried in his lips that are hesitant to come out. But somewhere down the line, he knows they'll make her feel better.

"I," his voice trails off. "I-I'm glad t-that I'm here and you're not alone, having to take care of yourself."

And Mae's eyes light up. She's blessed indeed, to have someone as wonderful as him next to her.

Her fingers interlock with his, as he sits on the bed, next to her.

"Baby," she sighs. Tempted to bring his hand to her lips and peck it.

"Tch, is that your way of calling me short," Levi's face turns serious all of a sudden, and he raises a brow.

"What noo!" she exclaims, "Raz found herself a guy, and he calls her baby."

"That's such an uncommon thing to call your partner, is he a pedophile or something?"

Laughter escapes past Mae's throat at that. Trust Levi to make the cutest things dark. And then she starts coughing.

He turns her to the side, and starts rubbing her back.

"But isn't it cute." she pouts.

"Tch," Levi clicks his tongue in disdain.

"But Leviii, " Mae huffs, her brown eyes sparkle playfully. " I don't want to be 'brat' anymore, I want to be 'baby'."

"Well unfortunately for me you are a brat and a whiny baby as well." Levi smirks.

"I knew you weren't going to give in to this, which is why I'll find cute nicknames for you instead!"

She ponders for a minute.

"Sweet cake?"

He frowns.

"Okay Mr.Frown Face, how about buttercup then?"

"You're horrible at this" he blinks.

Thunder cackles and raindrops run down the window like tiny rivers. The overcast sky dims the room further. The sound of rain fills up the space, but the dreary weather doesn't dull the mood.

And when Levi places the napkin on Mae's forehead again, her heart races.

"Cupcake?"

"Ew."

"Pudding?"

"Not at all."

"Sugar Plum."

"Mae," Levi sighs, exasperated and partially embarrassed. "I'm an army officer who has killed hundreds of titans with ease. I'm Humanity's Strongest for god sake!"

And Mae sports a toothy, teasing smile. Fully knowing she's the only one who can get away with this. "But... but you were Humanity's Cutest before you were Humanity's Strongest."

And Levi looks back at her. Turning pink and ridden speechless.

"Okay how about pumpkin pie then?"

"I'm not the menu card of the bakery you dream of opening in the future."

"But all my desserts will be inspired by you and you only."

And Levi tries his best to act annoyed. But she has flustered him too much now, much against his own wishes.

He decides that someday if they ever end up having kids, he'll never let Mae name them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sunlight slips past the narrow gaps in the curtains, making the dim room a tad bit bright. The morning sun rises past the trees, making the world get up from its slumber.

And the first thing Mae sees when her eyes open is Levi.

He's on the chair next to her, fanning her body.

Sitting exactly where he was, before she drifted to sleep.

And slowly the clogs in her brain start spinning.

"Levi," she gasps, almost horrified. "Did you not sleep at all?"

"I'm alright..." he mutters, but there's a softness in his gaze. "You're doing so much better now, I guess the wet cloth helped."

Surprisingly, he's not grumpy after not sleeping the entire night. Instead there's a tiny smile playing on his lips. He's happy she's gotten better.

"If you're feeling good, I'll do the other chores then." He says after a few minutes.

And Mae sits up at that, propping herself on her elbows. "I'll help too, my fever is almost gone-"

"No, you rest," he shushes her off by keeping his hand on her forehead. "Take it easy today."

And truly, Levi doesn't let her lift a finger.

He mops the floor. Cleans the cobwebs on the ceilings. Dusts the shelves.

And Mae watches, stuck to her bed.

Now he's sitting on the carpet, with his back to her. Folding all the freshly laundered clothes.

Guilt gnaws at the bottom of her stomach. He's stepping out for a mission the day after tomorrow. And yet she's making him work so much.

It's him who deserves rest, not her.

"I'm sorry for making you do all of this." her voice comes out timid. Still hoarse from the cough that has accumulated in her throat .

His actions pause, and he thinks for a moment, before answering. "Actually I like it... Makes me think of the type of life we would have if the titans didn't exist...Just the two of us, living together."

And Mae doesn't see the smile on his face as he stares down at the pile of clothes. She thinks it lies he's spouting to make her feel better. After all, who likes doing household chores... she hates them for sure.

And so she gets up from her bed, determined to help. But the mirror attached to the adjacent wall makes her stop in her tracks.

A frown forms as she catches her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair is oily and matted against her scalp. And she's not as toned as Levi in any way. Her thighs touch and her belly is not flat. Insecurities crawl underneath her skin.

"Why don't you date someone like Petra?" She asks, thinking out loud.

"Mae." Levi swivels around to see her. "She's not even an adult. How could you think something like that?" He speaks distastefully.

"But she'll grow up, you know... She's pretty, she's strong, and she's got a good body for sure."

Moisture wells up in her eyes. It's not just the guilt of him doing all the chores, it's something that has been troubling her for long.

And Levi sits baffled. He has no idea where this is coming from.

"It's so hard Levi... dating long distance," she sniffs. Her gaze still doesn't come off from the mirror in front of her. As she stands, so obsessed with finding faults in her. "You would be better off dating someone who's in the Corps. That way they'll at least be there for you when you need them, they can help you with all your work, and every message won't take a week to get delivered."

And Levi is on his feet in an instant. His arms reach out to her, and he pulls her into a hug

"Is it becoming too hard for you? Do you want to end it?" he whispers, masking his own heartbreak at the thought.

"It's hard," she ruminates. "But that's not the problem... The problem is that you deserve better." Her voice breaks, and another tear slips past her eye.

Because she sees all the women in town gawk about Humanity's Strongest and how attractive he must be. And she sees all the children that find their hero in him. She's nothing in comparison.

And one day she does hope to be slightly successful. With her own clinic, and a few regular patients. But for now she's just some doctor at a hospital in town. And her dreams seem so far-fetched.

"Look at me Levi... I'm not the best doctor, I'm not the smartest, and I'm not the prettiest... And you're Humanity's Strongest... Don't you see it? You can do so much better than me."

Their gaze meets in the mirror. And Levi stands stumped as he sees how moist her have turned moist.

He's never compared her with any other person he's met.

"But don't you see it?" He questions as if he's stating out the obvious. "You're the closest thing I have to normalcy." And normal sounds so wonderful to him. She doesn't have to be any more capable, or beautiful, she just has to be.

Of course there must be people who are better than her in many ways. But comfort, warmth, home, these are all words he only attaches to her.

His finger reaches below her chin, and he turns her face away from the mirror. Making her look at him. "You're more than your looks Mae, and you're more than your career... I hope you know that."

And she closes her eyes, as he presses a kiss on the top of her head.

"C-can I sit next to you while you fold those clothes?"

"Yes."

"I-I thought y-you were mad at me":

"Why would I be mad, silly?" He says as he ruffles her hair, making it a bigger mess.

"Don't let such crappy thoughts stuff up your head." He flicks her forehead. The next morning Mae wakes up feeling much better. Her throat still feels sore, and a mild headache still troubles . But there is peace in her heart and Levi in her arms.

That's all that matters.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The night is young, and Mae and Levi have returned back home from their impromptu dinner date.

The curtains are drawn shut. The hearth is warm, cackling with fire. And Mae sits on the bed, changed into something more comfortable.

She was feeling better, and she really wanted to treat Levi to a good meal, before he leaves tomorrow morning.

Next to her bed is the sketch of her and Levi that she got at the Trost Fair. With her smile so big, it makes her eyes squint. Levi obviously sits with his poker face, and his arms crossed in front of him. But Mae loves the way the painter has colored his cheeks and the tips of his ear, slightly red.

A few minutes pass by, and the gears of the bathroom door shift into place.

The door is nudged open, and Levi slips inside. Fresh from his bath. With his inky wet hair clinging on to his face, and pearls of water still dripping down them.

Mae places the sketch in her hands, on the nightstand and withdraws a bottle of essential oil from the drawer. She raises a brow, slightly shaking the bottle as she gestures to levi.

And Levi feigns a sigh as he ambles over to her, and sits in front of her. With his back to her chest, and his butt positioned in between her legs.

She takes the towel that rests on his shoulder, and gently rubs it on his head. To dry his hair that is still dripping wet.

Mae likes to do all these small things for him, from buttoning the shirt he wears to tying the cravat around his neck. It makes her happy. Like she's being of some help to him.

"Are you using all the oils and seasonings I gave you?" She asks as she tosses the towel aside, and picks up the bottle of oil kept on her nightstand.

She pours some of the essential oil onto her palms Then she slides her oil-slathered fingers through his hair strands

"I try to," Levi mumbles, and his eyes flutter close, as he feels her fingers work their way through his scalp. "Tch, my hair is greasy again now... I hate this so much."

"Levi this is expensive, and Lavender really helps in aiding sleep, so you better shut up and follow the routine I have set for you." She speaks with seriousness. "And you take a shower like 5 times a day anyways."

And Levi knows the only say he has in this matter, is to complain, and then comply. So he closes his eyes, and enjoys the sensation of her fingers running through his hair.

And Mae feels sentimental too. She wants to make time pause.

Because when the sun rises tomorrow morning, Levi will be far away from her. Outside the walls. It's a feeling that she's still not used to. Of not knowing whether this moment she's spending with him will be their last together.

"Levi..." she calls out. "You remember the day when you became Humanity's Strongest... back when I was working in the Survey Corps? ... You came back injured and I was treating you."

Levi hums, in correspondence.

"That day Petra told me, that you fight as if you have nothing to lose.... But now that we're together. Does that change anything? Does that mean that you have something you are scared to lose?"

The question renders Levi quiet for some minutes. Or maybe it's that he knows the answer fully well, but he is just hesitant.

He drums his fingers on to his chin, and after some serious contemplation, he finally answers."You are i-important to me Mae, but you aren't more important than humanity... And I do have something to lose now, but I can't let that change the way I fight.. Because if I start fighting like a person who is scared to lose what he has, then humanity might lose as well, and that is something that everyone fears."

It's the bitter truth, the pill that's hard to swallow. She's fallen in love with a man, who will always keep his duties first.

She slides her arms around his chest, and pulls him closer. His back presses her chest, and she rests her chin on his shoulder. "That's the right decision. After all, I'm just a person."

Her fingers graze across his bare chest, caressing all the scars his battles have given him. The moment is delicate yet heavy with emotions.

And Mae decides that it's time to release the feelings that have consumed her heart since forever.

"I love you Levi." The words are tender, like a kiss on his nape.

He doesn't have to say it back.

He doesn't even have to turn his head and look at her.

Because love is the softness in his eyes when he looks at her. And the sweetness in his emotions when he comes home to her.

And Levi closes his eyes as he relishes the moment. It feels safe here in her arms, like no force in this world can harm him. And for once he doesn't hide the red that settles on his cheek.

"Thank you..." he speaks with a certain heaviness.And a sigh escapes his mouth, as he realizes that his weekend getaway is close to an end. Just a few hours from now he'll be outside the walls

Sometimes he fantasizes about what it would be like if he wasn't in the Survey Corps. Just him and her, living their life as a simple couple.

To divide all the household chores, and cook meals together. To go on dates on the weekend, and to bicker like a couple. Marry her, after a few years and maybe have little versions of him and her run around the house.

It's a far fetched dream, but Levi can't help but indulge in the thought for a couple of minutes.

The Survey Corps, the title of Humanity's Strongest, and the titans outside the walls. He wants to run away from it all. He's strong and no one would be able to track him down.

But the guilt in his mind would haunt him forever.

And it's indeed a curse that such exceptional strength and skill lands on his shoulders. And he wields the responsibilities as Humanity's Strongest soldier. He can't let all the people that look up to him down.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The weather is dreary today. Heavy gray clouds loom over the sky, like a blanket. And occasional drops of rain fall to the ground. In a light drizzle.

Not many people line the streets, but there's still a small crowd. And they watch wide eyed, as the Survey Corps trot with their horses. Dawned in their olive capes.

Mae stands in the crowd as well, lost . Her height doesn't help much at all. And she tries balancing on her toes, tipping left and right, in the push of the crowd.

"ERWIN DANCHOU, WIN BACK WHAT HUMANITY HAS LOST." Loud cheers erupt.

"LEVI HEICHOU KILL ALL THE TITANS FOR US." The crowd raves, and Mae stands on the sidelines.

Moisture settles in the corner of her eyes as she looks at him longingly.

How can she ask him to not go when everyone is counting on him?

How can she ask him to stop, when he is leaving to serve all of humanity?

She thought this would get easier as the time passed by, but nope.

It's a feeling she still hasn't gotten used to.

Fleetingly, his eyes meet hers. He sees the way they glow, heavy with tears and the way her lips tremble. His gaze softens, almost caressing her with the way he's looking.

He flashes her a small smile, his gaze flickering to the gate and then back to her. To anyone, the action is hardly noticeable, but Mae gets his message loud and clear.

Let me go, will you? He says to her.

The tear caged in her eye falls freely. Her hand flies up and she bears a shaky smile as she waves at him.

The moment is short-lived but etched forever in his heart.

This chapter may feel like a filler chapter, but I just wanted to talk about how Levi and Mae's relationship is now that they are long distance. And how they are in a relationship as well (before I start getting to the actual AOT plot lol)

It's been a few months now, so Levi is more comfortable initiating physical touch.

I hope their character growth is noticeable, because it isn;t really obvious.

Mae says I love you but doesn't expect it back, and Levi doesn't say it back. That's something that would have crushed Chapter 18 Mae. But now Mae feels secure.

Its kind of rushed but Levi and Mae have grown, understanding each others imperfections better. Mae is more secure, she doesn't need Levi reminding her that he needs her again and again, because she sees his effort

And Levi too is trying to communicate his feelings even though they make him feel weak and vulnerable. (Him saying he's glad he's here). And he's trying to be sweeter when Mae needs sweetness (telling Mae that she's more than her looks and her career).

Let me know your views on the chapter!

As always constructive criticism is also welcomed!

To all the people who keep up with this fic despite all the irregular and late uploads, I am very very grateful to have you! &lt;3

I will see you again with the next chapter! And HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

#levi ackerman #levi #levi x oc #levi x reader #levifanfic #romance #romance fanfiction #fluff #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi ackerman angst #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snklevi #snkfic #aot fic #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman imagine #aot #levi ackerman headcanons #attack on titan #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #levi fanfiction #grumpy and sunshine #slow burn #strangers to friends to lovers #oc x canon #fanfic

[tiffyfoundsomething]

I love BJD and am a sucker for a blind box but so far have had some pretty poor luck with bling box BJD.

When I consider risking it on a blind box BJD I look at what’s available in the set. If there is a higher chance I’ll get something I do like rather than something I don’t, I’ll order one.

I like all but two of these, as I actively dislike black and white, and black and red, and the black and white one is the rare so my chances of getting one I like are high!

I got the Bonnie The Journey of the Streets doll that I had ordered today.

https://amzn.to/3HnnRp4

Of course I got the black and red one (Street Skater).

I have ordered 4 blind box BJD all together and 3 have been red and black. The only time I didn’t get the red one was when the red one was the ultra rare. That time I got blue.

Ugh!

Despite being black and red and thus a huge disappointment, I like the doll quite a lot. I may go to the effort of sanding off the headband which is part of her face sculpt, or might just repaint it.

That little bandage is so cute.

I did have to install her ears and they popped in a lot more easily than the little Penny’s Box Antu centaurs’ tails do.

My Street Skater has two right upper arms. Despite that she poses well enough.

Though she cannot sit up straight. Her hip wells aren’t deep enough in the front. Her head’s so heavy that it pulls her over anyway.

She does have ratcheting knees which hold a pose well, and a rotational cut joint in the thigh.

The eyes are interesting... Instead of individual eyes she has an eye panel with printed irises.

Granted the other 3 dolls I have in this scale and style have painted eyes.

Her eyes are deeply set which gives them a little bit of a follow-me effect. Though the irises sort of follow the viewer, she never looks like she’s looking at you except from the front.

I haven’t even tried to dress her in this because it’s not my style at all.

I HAVE ordered another one, though. Out of all of them so far, Bonnie is the first that I’ve ordered a second of.

I do rather like her.

#bjd #blind box #blind box bjd #bonnie the journey of the streets #affiliate links #dolls

[popcornforone]

Whiskers

A Frankie “Catfish” Morales Fan Fic

Happy Freaky Feral Frankie Friday Besties. All my Frankie fics have been kinda soft so far, minimal smut more about the relationship. That changes today. Frankie & you are really going to enjoy this, I hope.

Synopsis: Your not expecting your boyfriend Frankie home from his mission until Sunday, but when you get home on Friday night, he’s waiting for you & you can’t wait to feel his Whiskers trail across your skin.

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: DONT NOT READ IF YOH ARE UNDER 18! Oral Sex female Receiving, fingering, PIV sex, teasing, lusting, sucking, kissing, swearing, pining, needs. This is a long term established relationship.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. It’s always appreciated. Please let me know any feed back at all. Enjoy.

Beep… beep… it’s usually on silent your phone, always at work, & especially as you’re about to have a 3 day weekend & have lots to get done. Your boyfriend should be home late on Sunday after a dangerous flying mission. He’s been uncontactable for the last 2 weeks. Highly classified, you’re not even sure he can tell you what’s gone down when he does eventually get back. But you’re looking forward to his return & the way you always celebrate his returns to your arms & bed.

“Sorry” you say to your boss who raises an eyebrow. You’re such a diligent worker that you get away with the occasional look at your phone. The message is from your sister asking you how you are coping without your boyfriend. You’ve not called her as much as you usually do when he’s away, your now getting used to him not being there a little bit, but deep down inside your missing the way your Catfish treats you like his princess. You quickly reply & go back to your work, diligent as ever making sure everything is as up to date as it can before you click the out of office button.

You head to the salon after work to get a pedicure, Frankie likes your toes pristine. You always take good care of them but a quick foot massage & a repaint always makes you have a little spring in your step. It’s also a nice way to start the weekend off with some me time. Those hand soothing the work stress away. When you are all done & your toes are now baby blue, you go to pay, but the woman shakes her head. “We have a card for you on our system. It says to directly take payment from there” you recognise the last 4 digits on the card as Frankie’s & smile. “Clearly my boyfriend wants to treat me then” you say as your put your purse back in your hand bag & head home. Rejuvenated & ready for a quiet Friday night.

The second you unlock the front door you know. You can sense it & smell it. Frankie is home. You can smell his scent which isn’t potent but it’s a aftershave you only connect with your catfish. It’s straight up your nostrils & you instantly feel aroused. He’s here or he has been here if he’s then popped out again. “Frankie?!” You say & it echos around your house. You put your keys on the side & take your hand bag & shoes off. “Baby are you home?” You’re trying to control how excited your voice is, but you’re not falling anyone with those tones. They are eager to find him & you are wondering if this is a game. But then you hear the floorboard creaking 3 steps behind you. You know it’s him & you can’t wait to be smothered by him & for those hands to connect with you.

“Baby” he eventually whispers in your ear as a sigh & burys his head into the crook of your neck. “I missed you” “not as much as I missed you Frankie” your hurry the words out of your mouth before you instantly turn your head & pepper his left cheek with kisses. It doesn’t take too much encouragement for him to turn his face to you before he holds yours. Eyes trapped the second they lay eyes on each other. Back under each others spell as the making out begins.

His mouth is a stranger to start, a two week mission always makes you tentative to first kiss him. What if he’s been changed, what if he doesn’t want you, what if he’s found someone else? These thoughts always cross your mind as your lips lock. But then he always runs his fat flat thumb across your lips when you break & he says “it’s still me baby, I’m still your Catfish” his eyes dazzling at you under his baseball cap. You then toss the hat across the room, to see how messy his hair is. He doesn’t need the hat anymore, he’s home & your his comfort & what he’s about to do to you once these precious welcome home kisses are completed, will make up for lost time indeed.

“When did you get home Frankie?” You pur desperate for friction, it’s heavy your words as you pant. You always forget how much you kiss this man’s touch. “Last night, but I came to see you as quickly as I could, didn’t think you’d appreciate the 4am wake up.” He’s moved his hands to your hips as he can see them already moving against him. It’s hard for him to control himself at the best of times, let alone when he’s not been with you for a fortnight. “I’d have called in sick today, we now have even more lost time to make up for Morales” your eyes dance into his as you feel his chest heave with yours. All these sentences are just filling the small gaps from each embraces. Squeezing them in because kisses are more important than words.”I wouldn’t have minded at all Frankie” your arms go around his shoulders & as he leans into you, you both tumble to the floor on top of the rug in your lounge.

Frankie assaults your neck with kisses, short & sweet each one but it makes you moan the more he does it. His T-shirt is off in a few seconds. A grey blur flys the same way his hat did as your hands go for his chest. His perfect body. He might not have the body of Gosling or a model but Frankie’s body is perfect for you & you can read it like a book. The little hairs prickle you as you run your hands through it, before you get to his wild curls. He needs a haircut but you like it thick, more time to play with it, really get your hands into it & you love the moans he makes as you do that to his head. “Baby I’ve missed your touch so much” he groans as his hands fumble with the zipper on your jeans. The sensation of your boyfriend peeling your skinny jeans from your body, makes your hips move. Sensual pleasure is on its way.

“Frankie, my frankie” “shhh baby, shhhh”he starts by sucking your toes “baby blue for my baby girl?” He asks, you nod while biting your bottom lip “only for you frankie, it’s always all for you” your body remembers how to move. It might have only been 2 weeks but it’s rhythm lets him know you are more than ready for pleasure. His large hands caress your tiny ankles, feeling how smooth & rounded they are as his lips move up your legs. You lie there enjoying every second wanting to grip the rug, but you know it’s too soon for that. The knees receive the next kisses but then he reaches your thighs. His kisses now firmer & longer, occasionally feeling his teeth graze across your flesh. He holds your waist to stop you from moving but neither of you can control your body. You boyfriend is back & nothing can stop the two of you.

“White lace…” he says as he trails his hand over the thin material. “You wore these thinking I wasn’t going to be here, well I’m glad I got back early, it would have been such a waste.” His thumb pushes some of the lace from your knickers inside you. He can feel how wet you already are, desperate for your man to indulge in your delight. “Fuck baby, you’re soaked already,” you moan at Frankies deep words that make you move even more. “Best take these off then” The sensation of the material he just pushed into your entrance leaving your body makes you gasp. Being exposed for him as his hands roll your kickers over your thighs, the way he lowers your knee before they are released from your feet. A quick sniff of them before he puts them in his back pocket of his arse hugging jeans “for later my love” Frankie groans as he pulls your knees apart.

The smile on his face looking at you slick is devilish. “My my someone is ready for desire, did you miss me that much baby” Frankie says, these word make you flutter, your covered tummy rising & falling with each breath. “Yes frankie, I missed my catfish, I missed my whiskers” “I have whiskers you say?” He smirks, eyes dilating by the second watching you almost come apart at just his words & you being ready for what he delivers. He likes when you call his moustache whiskers. He knows that is code for you wanting oral, for him to lap away at your pussy, to make you moan so much that his penis will effortlessly slide it once you are done to bring you even more desire. He will get his cock sucked just not until you’re both satisfied & unlike most guys you’ve been with, Frankie is more than happy to wait to attend your needs first. He secretly, not that he would tell anyone other than you, enjoys making you cum on his tongue, milking you of your juices for every drop. He loves the feel of it.

“I could be a rascal & make you beg for this, but I am as impatient as you” Frankie leans across to the arm chair to get you a cushion to prop up against. He wants you to watch how masterful his mouth is. Once you’re a little more upright, Frankie kneels in between your thighs & sticks his index & middle finger inside his mouth & starts to suck. The noises he makes are explicit, as he slowly lowers himself down as he lubes up his own digits. Never breaking eye contact from you as you just stare at him, & watch his suck. “Am I not already wet enough baby?” You roll your hips a little & lick your lips, expecting pleasure soon. Frankie raises an eyebrow at you as his fingers slowly leave his mouth, saliva dripping down them,”yes you are, but more can never hurt.” Frankies reply is muffled by your moan as he slowly rocks his two fingers into your entrance, edging their way it. So long & thick, & it is a slow motion. It just feels exquisite & you want nothing more than for this man’s fingers to pleasure you in any way they can for the rest of your life.

“Frankie” it’s a shallow whimper as he starts to move his fingers inside you as his thumb slides over your clit. “Does my girl like this? Did she miss this? Does she want everything?” he says deeply, eyes dilated, watching your body convulse & relax & start to go through the pleasurable motions. The look of desire coming back from both of you. “Make me yours Morales” the moan crawls from a deep place in your throat as you just keep rolling for him. You pelvis finds its rhythm against his fingers, so thick & rampant. He keeps darting hie eyes between the blissed out look on your face & his hand. Each lip bite, each eye roll, each shade of red you turn from the heat coursing it’s way through your body, flushing you cheeks, makes him never want to leave again. But the squelching as he takes you with his fingers, watching your arousal grow & your hips move, it makes him want more. He’s hardening inside his jeans, he knows his tip is leaking but he’s selfless when it comes to moments like this & he wants your orgasm to hit you full on.

“Even on my fingers, you’re so tight baby” he says, a boyish look in his eyes before they becomes transfixed on your pleasure. Watching it move & seeing how well you take him. That’s all he needs. His lip are pouting & he slowly lowers his head, fully between your thighs, smelling your essence. & then the moan you make. Oh & what a moan it is. His tongue has made contact with your clit. Leisurely he starts knowing how much more there is to come. Clockwise actions making your body convulse, not knowing how to let the pleasure out, as your hand finally gives in grabbing the rug below you, turning your knuckles white from the grip. His fingers still making you feel good but now as his licks turn into sucks, your legs open further. Allowing him all the room he needs to make sure you cum inside his mouth.

“Frankie” you gasp. Your fire ignited. Feeling those whiskers graze across your sensitive bud. He slowly removes his pulsing throbbing fingers from inside you. You thought they were sodden before they went inside your core, but now the trail is no longer your catfishes saliva, it’s your juice. It’s thick & sticky & you notice as your eyes start to glaze over & you miss the feel of his fingers, to see Frankie suck on them. Trickles he has to stop from escaping, wanting to taste as much of you as possible. “Now that was a good taster…” he says with a grin on his face like it’s his birthday. “… but I want my snack”. You don’t protest, your body just responds to Frankies oral assault on your entrance. His head dispersing back inside your thighs, trying to to calm your legs around his head, trying to spread them for as much space as he needs. He’s a good lover & knows exactly what to do to get your libido on high alert.

Each brush of his whiskers makes you gasp, his tongue cleaning you for all it’s worth, lapping up every last drop of your arousal. Your clit wanting more attention than it’s getting as your body rocks into Frankies face as he pleasures you. “Don’t stop baby, so good” you say amongst your oh fucks & long drawn out yeses, as your hands move to his head. Massaging & playing with his luscious locks while he sends you over the edge of desire. Each lick & suck is making you over stimulate, expecting your desire to crash overboard at any second. “Frankie please please” it’s barely audible, surrounded by your sighs & whimpering. He places his flat thumb on your clit, to make sure he gets completely covered in your slick in a few moments time. He wants you to see the sticky mess you are about to make on his face. He’s smiling moaning & lapping & licking away at your pussy, his jeans becoming an issue, he needs to release soon, they are starting to constrict. Something telling him you’re not making it out of this room at all tonight.

“Baby oh baby fuck yes, like that, I’m so close please” you can feel each swipe. Such a large tongue, the prickle of his moustache, those whiskers will be the first thing drenched when you let go. The hand that’s not stimulating you, gripping into your thigh. He’s pushing into you hard. His nose rubbing against your flesh. His thumb speeding up. His moans getting deeper. It’s all too much “FRANKIE!” If your neighbours didn’t know you were home they do now. With a large fist full of the rug bellow you in your hand, your head jolts back as you cum, feeling every desire explode & then collapse inside you. “Oooh fuck yesss” it’s like your body is electrified, every nerve & sense is screaming in excitement as you spill & Frankies gets to enjoy more of your precious desire, which he continues to lap at as your body slows down.

You’re still panting & seeing heaven when Frankie stops. You don’t recall when he did exactly but you can feel his lips on yours. They are drenched & tangy & taste if you. He holds your head as he makes out with you. You’re brought back to your sense when you hear his belt clink. “Baby, do you know how good you are?” the first words to come out of your mouth are hoarse, from your moaning once he stops kissing you. His face is gleaming, like a glazed doughnut. “From your moaning baby, yes I think I’m pretty decent.” His lips return to yours, tongues dancing together in passion, as he finds the hem of your tshirt to free you from it.

“It’s all in your whiskers baby,” you giggles as you stroke his face & look at the desire in his eyes. He takes your thumbs & glides them across his moustache, the residue coating the tips. He places one of your thumbs in his mouth & you suck the other. “I don’t want to waste one drop my love” his hands heading for your bra strap to free your breasts. He’s ready for him to experience his own pleasure.

“Frankie, what if I’d had plans tonight?” You moan as you stop sucking your thumb, your own taste still lingering on your lips. “I have a feeling they’d have been cancelled” he says as he looks at the breasts he’s just exposed, his mouth instantly latching on to a nipple to suck on your body again. He slowly lies you down on the rug as he shuffles off his jeans, for you to realise he was commando underneath. His body pressed hard against yours as his hand glides down your side, getting you in position, making all the goosebumps appear. Feeling his own erection get harder as his flesh connects with you.

“Oooh Catfish I need more” you moan, your hips ready for desire already trying to thrust against him. “More than just my whiskers?” he says as he stops sucking your nipple & glides his head up your chest, his whiskers feeling so erotic as they scrape your neck. “Well I guess it’s time was got to the main event” he just smiles at you & watches your face beam & then turn dark with desire. Your earlier slick making his entrance smooth & as he bottoms out & moans at the feeling of being fully inside you, he looks down into your eyes. Filled with love. His fingers were good, they always are, but the feeling of his penis hitting the spot, delights you to the point where you’re speechless, but desperately begging for more. He holds your chin & says “I never want to leave this moment” before Frankie starts to roll his hips & the love making commences.

#fanfic #my fics #smutt #pedro pascal #no minors #over18 #fanfiction #fan fic smut #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales fan fic #frankie morales fic #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fan fic

[fandoms-in-law]

Stories Chapter 8

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

Summary: Steve finds his own way to making his rooms his own, by inviting everyone around

the penultimate chapter

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The house wasn't finished and with every room where furniture was changed now the painting was all done, Steve felt more uncertain just as much as he felt like the house was becoming a home. It just didn't feel like his yet. 

The dining room felt like it belonged to Hellfire, but after Robin heard that thought a dinner party was arranged. 

The kitchen had always been Steve's or felt like that anyway. Even when his parents came home and sometimes tried to rearrange it to whatever taste they'd heard recently he'd put it back to his liking as soon as they left. 

Using that to relax him before spending time in the redecorated rooms worked as a bridge to helping him view them as his own.

"So this isn't meant to be some big fancy deal, right?" Nancy asked as she and Jonathan were let in, looking around. 

Steve grinned, "If anything it's a group date. Robin invited Vicky too and Eddie should be here soon, but it's just Robin's way to get me used to the new rooms via a dinner party."

"Better not mention you avoid the pool or she'll be insisting on constant pool parties." Jonathan teased, gesturing further into the house. "Want us to wait in the living room while you finish cooking or do you need any help?" 

"Go distract Robs from trying to help please. She'll be causing a fire if she tries to help too much I swear." Steve grinned, laughing when a cry of protest came from the kitchen.

"Sorted, we'll keep her distracted." Nancy nodded, a smirk forming.

It was a small gathering, but getting to host, being the one at the head of the table (at Eddie's insistence when he tried not to be) and just laughing with his friends as they tried to copy the poses Eddie and Will had painted them in made it feel more like his home than any paint or furniture could.

…

The bathroom should have been the last thing to be finished. It wasn't just repainting or changing furniture after all. It included getting plumbers in and measurements being taken before any changes could be made and then there was the structural change added for Steve's bath to be lowered slightly. That did amuse everyone a little when they could now see where the ceiling was lowered for the plumbing and the tub when in the right room downstairs. 

Essentially though it made Steve believe it was his from the start because the change being arranged was a nightmare of stress and letting strangers through his room and in and out of his house constantly over a couple of days. 

And that was enough for him to make sure his own room wouldn't have the furniture changed until after it was done.

Plus he already knew how to make the space full of good memories and would see anyone he wanted included at some point while working. 

"So I'm planning a spa night next week. Everything in the bathroom should be finished and set according to the plumbers and you're coming." Steve stated, nodding at the stunned look Will was giving him. "I've already checked with Joyce it's okay and as long as I get you home before 11 you're good to come." 

Will still looked hasitant as he asked, "So who else is? And why me?"

"Cause this redecoration wouldn't be half as good without your murals and just Robs and Eddie. We're making face masks and lip balm. Having pedicures or something. I'm still deciding but it's going to be a spa night just to relax."

"And paint our nails." Robin agreed, coming back over to the counter where she'd been reshelving videos. "He included that, right?" 

"Not yet. He also hasn't told us when he's picking us up." Max called, her head appearing from behind a shelf a moment later to Steve's surprise since he didn't know she was in the store, let alone so close. 

He still huffed in response. "You can't just invite yourself along." 

Will glanced between them, "But she can if I'd feel weird being the only younger teen with you 3, right? Besides you already paid me for the paintings. You don't have to invite me to anything else."

"Okay. 5 for spa night on Friday. I'll fetch you both around 5:30 and get you home on time. No, you aren't making this a sleepover Max. Thank Will for getting to invite yourself." Steve agreed, gesturing for the kids to talk and straightening as the door chimed for another customer coming in. 

…

Even while driving the 2 kids to his, Steve was muttering over the things he thought would make a spa night perfect and that they'd be able to improvise for themselves. 

"Have you done this before? Your list of home spa ideas is just getting longer." Will asked, snickering slightly at the idea of Steve having done it while still a jock ruling his school. 

Steve met his eyes in the rear view mirror, amusement in them too. "Carol was quite insistent that my house should be taken over for her friends to have their own spa nights a few times. She could forbid Tommy from making it a party but could never kick me out of my house, so yeah I've done it a few times but not with anyone else for years now."

"King Steve was treated like one of the girls? Is that how you got the sleeps with everyone rep, cause your charm doesn't seem effective." Max teased.

"Hey! Don't assume you know who I was. The Harrington charm just doesn't need using constantly to exist, okay. Besides, there's no insult there. Those girls are scary in the amount of skin and hair care they know." He countered but grinned as he pulled up outside his house. "Besides I could have you smearing anything on your skin tonight. I think you want me to know what I'm doing."

"I definitely do. I don't trust these magazines Nancy keeps suggesting Robin read. Isn't Nance meant to be a scary journalist?" Eddie agreed, somehow knowing what was being said even as he was the one to open Steve's door. 

That got Steve laughing even more. "Only when she's got a mission. The magazines were her way of practicing. She'll rewrite anything to make it more serious or empowering for her specifically. Not sure why she's decided Robs likes them though." 

"It's how she knows to bond with other girls. Apparently her and Barb used to trade them and laugh over obvious lies or gossip that seems more suited to the cafeteria than anything trying to report news." Robin called from where she was hanging out the door. "Enough on that though, I want a face mask and a pedicure."

That was enough to get everyone inside, following Steve up to his bathroom while Will and Max clammered with questions over if they were doing each others or if there was a plan for spa treatments. 

As Eddie took the kids home and Steve focused now on washing Robin's hair, everyone could agree that it was an evening well spent and they'd be keeping their eyes out for things to bring to future spa nights.

chapter 9

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #dinner party #will byers #max mayfield #spa night

[dndeed]

Crit Role Miniature Rollout: C3E24 The Hellcatch Valley

With Andrew Harshman

An archive and analysis of the minis used on CR.

Fresh city, fresh player character, fresh Mats by Mars mat, and many fresh minis. Quality looking desert map we got here. Very handsome. Great place for a little dust up.

No better place to catch hell than the Hellcatch Valley, it’s time for Crit Role Miniature Rollout Campaign 3 Episode 24!

The List

Mats by Mars Tabletop Mat Swallowing Sand

Monster Fight Club Barren Hills

Monster Fight Club Village Well

Hagglethorn Hollow buildings

Goblin Village Premium Set Palisade Wall

Dwarven Forge Stone Ruins Add-On Pack

Dwarven Forge Mountain Peak Pack

Dwarven Forge Wicked City Smuggler’s Wagon

Mantic Games TerrainCrate Dungeon Debris Crates

Mantic Games TerrainCrate Military Campsite Large Tent

Campaign 3 Party Minis Wizkids Sculpts

Mythic Odysseys of Theros #20 Siona, Captain of the Pyleas

Volo & Mordenkainen's Foes #15 Gnoll Pack Leader

Monster Menagerie 2 #010 Human Monk

Critical Role Clovis Concord Zhelezo

Rage of Demons #12 Hobgoblin Soldier

Pathfinder Battles Iconic Heroes Set 4 Jirelle half-elf swashbuckler

Waterdeep Dragon Heist #06b Merchant

D&D Premium Painted Figure: W4 Female Half-Orc Fighter

D&D Premium Painted Figure: W5 Male Elf Druid

Tomb of Annihilation #36 Nanny Pu'pu

Monster Menagerie #024 Illydia Maethellyn (Invisible)

MDF Stairs

Unidentified civilian miniature standing by wagon

Ruined castle corner wall

Assorted scatter terrain

The Party

Dusk Mythic Odysseys of Theros #20 Siona, Captain of the Pyleas Mini images sourced from minisgallery.com

Yoooooo, Dusk is a sick name! Well played Erika Ishii. This is a good temporary miniature choice. I like the classical armor and classical strut pose, which is based directly on the Magic the Gathering card art of this character. A pretty faithful adaptation, thought for the mini they opted to give her a more practical cut of armor skirt, which I can appreciate. 

The NPCs

Dragonborn Bystander Critical Role Clovis Concord Zhelezo

Solid civilian miniature, a dragonborn bystander (also known as a dragonbornster). Weapon toting characters in peaceful poses are always useful because they can be used as chill village folk, but also as combatants. Mighty versatile. Alas, this dragonborn is orange-ish, therefore I hate it. I joke of course. Good model.

The Villains

Spellcaster D&D Premium Painted Figure: W5 Male Elf Druid

What is the significance of this druid staff design? This staff headpiece has been featured on a few Wizkids models. Though I like the spell effect and the pose is kinda cool, this mini is not quite workin’ for me. The cloak is just this blobby mass that’s tough to read from across the table. And I wish they had spent a little more time painting the right hand. That spell effect is the focal point of the model and as-is it looks pretty crummy.

Gnoll Monologer Volo & Mordenkainen's Foes #15 Gnoll Pack Leader

“Monologue” is my new favorite command word. And Gnoll Monologer is my new favorite subclass of gnoll monster stat block. I like the 5th Edition gnoll creature design and I think this model captures that fairly well. The fidelity in the face is a little rough though, could benefit from a repaint.

Melee-er D&D Premium Painted Figure: W4 Female Half-Orc Fighter

Some highly practical female armor on display here (and an even more practical mullet). Decent model overall. But it is a very lazy half-orc model. This mini doesn’t have enough sculpt resolution to properly depict half-orc tusks and ears, so they just sorta threw some paint on to suggest those features. Also, that hairline mold line is gnarly.

Closing Thoughts

We are in for a pretty lengthy break, I’m glad we did not leave on too much of a cliffhanger. Though I’m not planning any formal coverage of ExU Calamity Minis, I may do some casual posts. Looking forward to seeing some Calamaminis.

See ya next sesh!

#critroleminiaturerollout

#criticalroleminiaturerollout #critroleminiaturerollout #critical role #cr #criticalrole #cr3 #critrole #critical role minis #dwarvenforge #matsbymars #minis #d20 #miniatures #dnd #crspoilers

[4getfulimaginator2022]

Thorns in My Side, part 4/7

Thorns in My Side on AO3 | Thorns in My Side on FF.net

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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Part 4 - Now We Are Two

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Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal.

Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

To love is to be vulnerable.

"The Four Loves" by C.S. Lewis

She barely recognized the spare bedroom. The walls had been repainted, now a clean shade of off-white, and the curtains had been replaced, stiff and starched and navy blue. It looked like the colorful rainbow rug had been washed; it was now stretched out brightly on shiny wood, and the glass panes of the solitary window in the corner were surely winking at her. And then there was a glass vase on the windowsill, filled with roses of every color.

Dragging her feet along the floor, head bowed, Emma sank into the mattress and hugged herself. Moving day was supposed to be exciting, thrilling, a fresh start. The moment she had entered Killian's house again, this time to stay on a more permanent basis, she had settled into the space given, placing her possessions on the walnut oak shelves and inside the simple wardrobe. There even was a vanity set with a mirror, painted pale yellow and embellished with tiny roses, winding over every curve until it looked like the dresser had been swallowed whole by flowers. The bed itself was queen-sized and decorated with soft Egyptian cotton sheets, alternating white and red.

All in all, the bedroom was beautiful, as if he had taken special time to make it so, just for her. To welcome her home. Did he really do all this because of her?

"Do you like it?" He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with anticipation and concern.

Her fingers grasped at the yielding fabric beneath. "It's wonderful ― thank you," she whispered, wishing her voice didn't sound so...dead. So resigned to her fate, when this was a chance for new beginnings, not a condemnation.

"Hmm." His teeth were gnawing his lower lip, tugging at it. "Is there...anything else I can do?" When he tried to catch her gaze, she immediately turned away. Hurt radiated in her direction, as well as silent pleading.

She stood up, bracing her chest as if it would be torn asunder otherwise. For a second, as her feet made a path toward him, his face brightened considerably. Then, while she reached for the doorknob next to him, it collapsed.

Damn it if she felt the least bit guilty.

"Well..." he tried, "I'll...I'll let you settle in, then?"

Still, Emma was mute. Words couldn't describe how every part of her was conflicted, relief and dread at war inside. It was good to have somewhere to stay, to have avoided a repeat of her past at the worst possible time. It was bad to be stuck in this house, owing a debt of gratitude to this man, unable to leave when she wanted because now she was under obligation to him. The more she pondered the turn of events that had led to this, the more furious she became, angry at her own foolishness and weakness and stupidity.

So she said nothing. She couldn't even look at him as she pulled at the door, as he shuffled slowly out of the entrance to let it close shut. And as soon as there was a barrier of wood between them, everything churning within was too overwhelming. Nothing was right.

Knees buckling, back sliding against shiny finish, Emma covered her face with her hands and sank onto the floor.

At least when she'd cried before, there was no one to hear it through the walls.

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The first day she didn't come out, Killian attributed it to nerves. He knew all too well what it felt like to adjust to a new place, even if it was one you'd seen and visited before, so he tried not to sulk as he ate his supper alone, glancing much too often at the closed door that she was hidden behind. The entire move had been emotional, though the way Emma had melted into his arms as he had done his best to comfort her had given him some hope that she didn't hate him. That she wouldn't push him away.

Then two more days went by without a glimpse of her, and he started to worry.

"Swan?" he'd called through the door, anxious for her. On his bad arm, he tried to balance the old breakfast board he'd dug out from the pantry ― so dusty and soiled that he'd had to scour it and scrub it hard with baking soda ― while his only hand knocked insistently on wood. The hot chocolate in a mug (with cinnamon sprinkled on top ― he hadn't forgotten), steaming platter of fruit-topped pancakes aside, wobbled when his grip lessened. Hopefully, the damn plank wouldn't crack under the weight.

First, getting the batter in order had been grievous, and he had almost mixed up the ingredients wrong and barely saved eggshells from dropping in with the melted butter. Then it had been hell to flip the damn griddle cakes with one hand, harder to also maintain the heat level of the stove, so after a few burns on his fingers and several missed attempts to transfer the result of his labors to a bloody plate, he was wishing desperately that she would like his effort to make a meal for her, that she would see that he did care and he did want her here and no, this wasn't some bloody act of mercy he was carrying out for the sake of it.

On realizing that there was answer, that silence was still ringing in his ears, he tried again. "Emma...come on, darling...after all, it's not healthy to skip―"

The door squeaked open, and her face peeked out. Killian's stomach soured when he noticed how red her eyes and nose, how her hair was in complete disarray, how her unkempt appearance could only mean one thing... "Hi," she stammered, clutching at the edge of wood like her life depended on it. "I...uh...I was going to tell you..." Then her gaze shifted to the contents of the tray. "What's that?"

Putting on a wide grin, he offered it to her, arms outstretched. "Um...just a little something I made...for breakfast. For you." God, he was no doubt blushing too, in addition to tripping over his tongue like some daft boy who fancied his first lass― "Thought it would help you to get on your feet again, a good early start..."

Just like that, her expression dropped and she was wary, eyeing him with trepidation. With distrust. "Oh...oh. Yes, I totally forgot." Her smile was forced, and it cut at him all the more. "I apologize ― I should have known better." Swallowing hard, she mumbled, "I guess you can...deduct these past few days from my pay...shit, I got so caught up in things that I―"

"This doesn't have anything to do with the bloody housekeeping, lass," he said, exasperated beyond words. "I didn't make you breakfast and come here because I wanted to remind you to get to work and polish the silver." She pulled back. Immediately, he softened his irritated tone and sorted his thoughts. "I only wanted...to check that everything is alright." Again, he held out the ready meal to her. "Won't you join me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He laughed aloud, then sobered when he saw how serious she was. She truly believed he would extort companionship from her? "I confess, I had hoped...you would like to. But yes...to answer your question...yes, of bloody course, you have a choice." His breathing quickened. "I'd never force myself on you, nor do I want your pity, Emma. Though we've perchance become roommates, living separately is perfectly acceptable," he hissed lowly.

Feeling terribly confused, he watched how she was taken aback by his response. It wasn't supposed to go like this. They were supposed to be friends now, friends with a purpose. Instead, they were at odds with each other again, she clearly afraid of his motives and he unable to convince her that his intentions were honorable.

Maybe he had hurt her too much to erase the past. Maybe there was no way possible to backtrack and begin again. After all, he'd been a heartless excuse for a man before. He had behaved abominably. Why should such a courageous, unselfish woman like Emma Swan think him anything but a horrid, crippled animal who had abused her?

She'd known his house for nearly a year. He'd known her presence for almost six months. Surely, amid all that time, was a touch of something good and decent out of all the contention, something that could bring both of them to a truce where they could peaceably be in the same room.

Eventually, their mutual inability to continue the conversation resulted in a heavy brickload of awkward silence, escalating so much that Killian wanted to slink back into the kitchen and wash dishes for hours instead of melting into a puddle of frustration as moments ticked by and his new house guest still refused to look him in the eye. Didn't she know she could never be his servant, that he always saw her as much, much more than that?

"I'm not good at this." He glanced at her, brow furrowing when she swallowed and then repeated her words, her voice surprisingly hoarse. "I'm not good at...being part of something. Maybe because...I've never learned how."

Bloody hell, how he wished his left hand were whole and still attached, that he could extend his right to her and help her forward by encouraging her to take that leap of faith with him. "Lass, I'm asking if you'll have breakfast with me, not go to the bloody moon," he managed with a chuckle, motioning toward the items on his arm a second time.

Then, finally, amid her wide-eyed fear was a small spark of a smile, curling her lips upward just a little. Her cheeks were flushed. Her stance was timid at best. But still, despite her apparent misgivings, she slowly emerged from her hide-out. When her hands tentatively took the board away from his tired arm, he felt his entire body sag from relief.

This arrangement would take time getting used to for both of them. A lot of time. But here was the start.

As she sat across from him, chewing on bites of pancakes and mulling over sips of cocoa, looking every bit the thoughtful Lost Girl he knew, he let himself relax. They had all the time in the world to become better acquainted. There was no rush.

But that didn't stop him from looking forward to it.

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He really didn't understand her dilemma, did he?

The rest of the week was, literally, hell. The hurt look on his face that she saw every time she couldn't bring herself to feel comfortable around him, always on pins and needles and tiptoeing her way about the rooms. The awkwardness of having to sit down at the same table for each meal and stare at each other all the time, neither wanting to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds. The imposition of sharing the same bathroom and never being sure if she was creating problems for his morning routine by spending more time to prepare for school and work, if she was being a bother. The entire house was designed to be tête-à-tête for everything, and she didn't know how to handle such...such...

Intimacy. Such close quarters, where it was impossible to be out of sight and out of mind, as the saying went.

How difficult it was for her to adjust to living with another person in the same space ― how much she had to second-guess herself, anxious that she didn't do something wrong or commit a cardinal sin against his unwritten household rules through one of her habits.

The worst part was the guilt, the fact she was keeping from him...that she didn't have anywhere else to go. That she had agreed to this arrangement, knowing how precarious it was, how all was balanced on the tip of Killian's word, like a modern sword of Damocles hanging over her head, always looming threatening. He could throw her out anytime he wished, for any reason. And then where would she be?

Out on the streets. Like...like she had been before...

Emma blinked quickly, a hidden fragment within her beginning to ache. God, those memories were the unspeakable. The moment they would arise, like a tsunami wanting to drown her, she would squash them flat, willing them to disappear. But they didn't. It was just wishful thinking on her part, the foolish hope that the bad in her life would simply go away because she imagined it could.

No, all of that was never leaving her. The terrible, the horrible, and the repugnant were here to stay, standing guard and ready to take whatever happiness she gleaned and toss it into the trash.

Of course...it was hurting Killian ― how she pulled and pulled away, unable to accept the fact that his house was now her abode as well, that he was not just her new boss but also her companion, that she should stop rejecting his kindness and his efforts to please her because she didn't know how to cope with everything about this that was wrong.

She didn't want to rely on him. After Neal, there was not even a tiny spark of trust left in her. It even didn't matter that she liked Killian. It didn't matter that he was doing his best to accommodate her, that it was obvious this new roommate business was being as hard on him as it was on her.

She just did not believe in herself. She never had. How then could she even start to believe in someone else?

Tying her hair up with an old scarf, Emma whipped out the feather duster and proceeded to sweep away dust gathering on the furniture. Here and there, she polished the varnished wood with a soft cloth.

The morning had been quite eventful, leaving her with a stack of new homework assignments and class notes to go over ― not to mention that she was due for her evening shift at Granny's today. Unfortunately for her, she'd already heard from Ruby in advance that those daily shifts were soon to become tri-weekly. Damn, damn, damn.

"Emma."

She nearly jumped out of her skin, heart hammering in her chest. "God, you scared me!"

Looking sheepish, Killian stared down at his feet, which were only covered in thick, dark socks. "Apologies, lass. I was only meaning to ask―"

"Dinner will be ready by six o'clock, right after I finish cleaning," she blurted out, wringing her hands around the duster's wooden handle.

His smile was too sad. "I actually wanted to ask if you needed any help."

"Oh." Her face was in flames. She could only stare at the white sweater he was wearing, focusing in on the pattern of the threads. It was a bit too big for him, and the end of the sleeves were unraveling, but in contrast to his dark jeans and tousled hair, it was a good match. He had good taste in clothes, like he did in décor and flowers. The more she thought of him, the more she was confused.

"But I'm...I'm supposed to..." She shook her head. "This is my job."

"I didn't welcome you into my house to be my personal servant, Swan," he muttered, scratching at the back of his ear. "I want you to feel at home ― that this can be your home."

Sudden pain in her chest radiated until it had spread to her throat, choking her. She couldn't breathe. Underneath her eyelashes were unwanted tears, threatening to spill. "Didn't you know, Jones? Orphans...they don't have homes. And they don't ever get them either."

"Emma...don't..." He was so close to her, and his hand was trembling, as if he wanted to extend it to her. "I know you don't want to trust me...and I don't blame you in the slightest...but I'd be honored, if you gave me a chance to earn your trust. I'll do everything in my power to be worthy of it."

He talked so differently, as if he had dropped out of another time, where men spoke to women with respect. Or at least, Emma mused, with false respect. Nowadays, you couldn't get a person to even try. "It's not that simple..."

"No, it's not ― it never is. It's a leap of faith, what I'm asking." He hung his head. "Love, you've seen me at my worst, all broken into bloody bits. I've been a selfish bastard. I don't deserve anything from you, after how I've treated you. But if I truly have your forgiveness..."

"You do."

"Then...will you? Will you give me a chance?" His voice wavered, gruff from such raw words.

To her, he looked sincere. Completely, utterly sincere. But that was the problem. Everyone also looked like they had good intentions ― it was the first rule of pretense, after all: be convincing, lead you in...then drop you flat. It had been Neal's strategy ― heck, she still didn't understand why he had decided to leave her heart a bloodied wreck. Had she not been loving enough? Desirable enough? Good enough?

Now she would never know.

The pieces of her that remained were so conflicted, tormented by Killian's request. It was one thing to ask her to trust, to repair her doubts. Somehow, no one ever offered a way to mend either after they'd both been broken.

Emma clung to the duster like her life depended on it. Which, in a manner of speaking, it did. She didn't have any excuses left. So, perhaps, it was best to go with the truth. "What do you want me to say?" she finally answered, unable to meet his stare.

"I only want―"

"For me to trust you. Right." She swallowed. "For me to reveal myself, put my cards out on the table...and then what? What happens when I fall? What do I do when the spell is shattered and then I'm back to where I started?" She shook her head. "Maybe it's better things stay as they are. Separate. Simple. It's safer that way."

His eyes narrowed, then softened. "You're afraid to trust me," he whispered. "It's why you keep pushing me away."

"Well, it's hard not to do, seeing as the last person I lived with framed me for his crime and abandoned me when I needed him. I went through so much damn shit and pain and hell because I gave him my trust and he just crushed it. Why should I take that risk again, Killian?" Her eyelids closed, the wetness behind them hard to quell. "It's why I have no friends, why I sit in crowds of people in my classes and I'm still alone. It's why it's hard for me to find work in the usual places, knowing I'm so different. When everyone is treating you like trash, how do you believe in yourself? How do you believe in someone else?"

"You see outside yourself. You see that there are others who feel the same pain. Others exactly like you." Sighing, he gave her a sad smile, running his hand through his hair. "It's what brought us to this point. It's why we're standing here. It's why you saved me."

"But I've never mattered. I'm not―"

"Don't. Don't belittle yourself. You are good. See that, Emma. Like you saw it in me." He reached behind him. In his hand was an envelope, blank but sealed. He extended it to her. "For you."

"What is it?" Emma crossed her arms over her chest, wary.

"A sign of faith," he whispered, winking at her, the corners of his lips crinkling. "My sign of faith in you."

"And..." Slowly, she took it, cradling it as if it were fragile. She licked at her lips. "And what do you expect in return?"

Killian shook his head. "Nothing. I only ask that you read it. Don't be too hard on me, now." His expression became serious, from light to dark. "Just remember that whatever you decide, I'll support it."

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

He was curled up on the couch.

Sitting. And sitting. Nothing but sitting.

Had he really fallen into this? That he didn't know what to do with his day, besides drinking himself into a stupor?

Killian sighed deeply. He truly missed the times when he knew himself, not this sorry excuse for a man that he'd become.

The keys jangled in the lock, and the front door opened.

Emma padded in quietly, slipping off her shoes by the clothes rack. Then she turned to him, looking crestfallen. But there was...something. He squinted at her. She was sad, yes...but there was definitely something more there. A light, in her eyes...in the way she was staring at him...

"Hey..." she greeted weakly. "I, um...I read it. The letter?" There was the beginnings of a smile there, small and shy.

He was so surprised, he couldn't find the right words to say. "You...did?"

"Yes." She exhaled slowly. "Could I...could I sit down? We really need to talk."

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

Please reblog/comment if you can!

Part 5

#cs ff au #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs fic #4getfulimaginator #cs fanart #cs beauty and the beast au #beauty and the beast au

[kazooples]

I posted 74 times in 2022

That's 5 more posts than 2021!

63 posts created (85%)

11 posts reblogged (15%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kazooples

@lostlovepunk

@dingbingbats

@kazooie

I tagged 55 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#furry - 10 posts

#pokemon - 10 posts

#nomad sculpt - 8 posts

#kemono - 5 posts

#digifake - 5 posts

#furry art - 5 posts

#digimon fdd - 5 posts

#3d sculpting - 4 posts

#animal jam - 4 posts

#fursona - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#i tried to repaint her clothes to fill the shot but it wasn’t oooking right

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Martini time! I don’t like eating olives,but I do love this lil creature

Support me on kofi @ Kazooples

71 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#4

I’m open for rainbow headshot doodles on ko-fi! Only $3 each, though tips are appreciated 💖

85 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#3

Why do bird want only lethal things? No Sunny, you can’t have ritalin.

102 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

#2

Gef the talking mongoose! Drawn in Animal Jam, I really like the face, I think Gef possessed me to draw this.

Don’t repost, reblogs appreciated 💖

Ko-fi @ kazooples

126 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What’s that in the distance..?

Oh

(u can support me on kofi @ kazooples)

206 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

I posted 743 times in 2022

That's 533 more posts than 2021!

110 posts created (15%)

633 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@eeliabwrites

@heartxshaped-bruises

@fromxbeginningxtoxend

@vodkatoniic

@quotemadness

I tagged 741 of my posts in 2022

#[queue] - 340 posts

#character inspiration | alex smite - 144 posts

#ooc - 101 posts

#eeliabwrites - 56 posts

#inspiration - 50 posts

#sylwia&carter - 50 posts

#quotes - 45 posts

#character inspiration | sylwia - 40 posts

#character inspiration | danny brightside - 30 posts

#character inspiration | absinthe moon - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 89 characters

#[alex talks in his sleep a lot; so it's not unusual for him to wake up spouting nonsense]

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

       For very nearly a decade now, legal agencies had been avoided, backgrounds repainted, and the general feeling that they, apart from from a small group of people were unknown, lay undisturbed. So what made the bastard tailing them so goddamn special? Absinthe had picked them up at that greasy Chinese restaurant Frank loved so dearly. And from there, they had let the other follow them across the city. Avoiding shortcuts, unlit alleys, anything that could throw them off from the abandoned office building .  .  . The view was perfect, and true to form, the curtains were open next door.

       Three, two one- The shot rang briefly as the body of a man they didn’t know but inevitably disliked fell onto the carpet. As far as they’d ever been able to tell, if someone was willing to pay a reasonable sum for your death, you had it coming.

       Smaller sums would have indicated a lack of .  .  . How should we put this, care? Commitment? Any exorbitant amount was sure to have political ties.

       Absinthe took a breath. Now they needed to leave.

       “If you’re going to be here anyway,” Absinthe said to the individual in the back. “you may as well ride shotgun. And put on your seat-belt.”

@heartxshaped-bruises​​

7 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#4

       So .  .  . He was right. Alex tapped his fingers against his knee rapidly. He thought if you squinted, that you could tell him and Sarah were related. They were, weren’t they? He was in a rabbit hole now, and honestly? It wasn’t as much fun as he imagined. “I’m a nosy little shit who spends too much time stalking people online.” Hence a collection of people with his face who were all leading different lives. “But how did you find out?” In both senses he supposed.

       There were a lot of questions, and probably a limited number of answers. How different were they? How different was he? The thought of being one of a set didn’t sit well with him, even if a small, self-betraying part of him liked the idea of having a big family. It was too optimistic to be realistic. He should have known that by now. Things in his life did not have a habit of working out.

       “Uh, I’m not sure if you already know or I introduced myself and I forgot, because that happens sometimes, but I’m Alex.”

@cxmewhxtmxy​

12 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#3

Pink hair fell in front of her face, dresses shifting between the racks until Carter came up beside her, holding up a rather distasteful thing. “Why did you even ask me to come if that’s what you want me to wear?” Carter could hire someone in that case! She was not interested! Sylwia shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll look on my own. If you still want me to come with you, you know where to find me.”

Why she extended an open invitation to Carter, she had no idea. The time and effort alone, that she’d put into getting ready did not make it worth it. Sylwia sighed, running her hands down the front of the dress. Supposedly Carter was coming to pick her up. He still needed a date .  .  . If he stood her up, there was always the bar close to the apartments. They had burgers and pool, and sometimes they had karaoke. So they advertised. Sylwia had never been in. “This is ridiculous!” Sylwia muttered to herself, touching up her hair so it looked just right. She barely knew what a gala was. It was a formal occasion, something out of a fairy tale. It was something to be suspicious of, since she didn’t know what to expect. Excited might have been a decent word for it a few minutes ago, but nerves were beginning to tie knots in her stomach.

Was it too late to back out? Just turn off all the lights and sit in her room like the old days? Sylwia leaned against the wall, picking at her lace sleeves as gently as she could. She was trying to branch out. Be a better person. But did this really count? Being Carter’s date? Was that better now?

A car horn honked outside. That was her!

Hopefully.

Maybe.

Sylwia grabbed her phone and her apartment key, walking down and getting into the car without looking at Carter .  .  . She was holding her phone so tightly her knuckles were turning white. “Well?” She finally asked, looking up at the other. “What do you think?” Did she look alright, or was he going to drop her off to hire someone in a slutty dress?

@eeliabwrites​

25 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

#2

I feel very small. I don't understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things.

Anais Nin, Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Execpurgated Diary, 1937-1939

28 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“Love is dead.” She didn’t want it to die, but inevitably, the roses wilted and the fire burned. “Whatever people say love is now . . .” Sylwia shook her head.

43 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #ooc #[say this from @heartxshaped-bruises] #[seemed interesting] #[i'm glad to see sylwia a lot for this year!] #[ :) ]

[redwing2000]

AI WIP 3 Sets - Blonde Saints , Urushihara , Sluaghter mobs

Blonde Saints (Before and After)

Urushihara (Before and After)

Sluaghter mobs (5 Phase)

[Reward] https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1159859 https://discord.com/channels/725318162207473764/1151060176468725801/1205438990338228274 [Free RAW] https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1173600

Free RAW mean. I don't sorting. All Gacha from these 3 set would zipped. Some picture may has 4 arms wrong body as AI gacha usual.

Reward ver. would just show the selected picture and upscaled (1.5pcs is repainted by hand draw)

From Feb day 1. I try the AI pictures again. As almost 2 weeks no posts. I try to post something I done which isn't completed yet.

Supposed to make some meat. The thing I want is before after.

Upscale can make the AI picture looks more detail. I try is it possible re-upscale the upscaled face. Would it be more detail that I can reduce repainting time.

But the answer is none.

I also try using Controlnet Canny. With this I can barely control the output hair by draft white lines. For doing this. With Urushihara lora. The hair is very unstable. White long hair -- Almost everytime I output it has different hair style. With this random output. This is not possible build Before and After.

Blonde Saints RAW This set I just want some meat. I browse the old output picture and found some of it. And select 2 of them to be meat. I don't know why. I like this anything 4.5 face and body. Although this model is so outdated and always build weird fingers.

Urushihara RAW Urushihara is my dream. So want to make a simply before and after. But finally it's not simply… 1 day for the random gacha. And spent few hours repaint (And her eyes still not done)

Sluaghter mobs RAW This set is before I use Vlad (2023 Aug)

But the [1] and [5] Green hair girl. I like those pictures. So trying to make pictures on her. This set suppose to be not retouch much and just do few photoshop and build the easy set…

Fire Hime set is no much process. So I don't attach the same things.

由二月初時我又玩AI了，幾乎2周沒出東西，我想還是出些半完成品報告狀況。

這些都是肉制品，和之前的不太同，我只是想出BEFORE AND AFTER。

談一下技術，Upscale是可以令圖更多細節。那我就想，如果把Upscale的臉再Upscale一回，我是不是可以節省一下修正臉的工作。

答案是不行的，如果只是作動畫風的，二回Upscale分別非常少…

另外我也要試行Controlnet Canny。這個主因是漆原lora出的圖髮型太自由，根本很難說服人是before and after。(也因此出了差不多200張圖……選來選去都沒有一對能成before and after)

Blonde Saints 金髮聖女 RAW 這個是最基本，我只是把以前出的圖再看一次，抽2個來當肉制品。 不知為什麼我總是覺得Anything 4.5的臉和身材不錯，這個模型很舊，出手指會時常出問題…

Urushihara 漆原 RAW 漆原是我的夢想。就來實行夢想的肉 (雖然我自己也畫過Remake版新女角的肉) 原本是打算很簡易的圖，但抽了一天轉旦，選好的圖也畫了幾小時也未修正好 (眼睛還沒修)

Sluaghter mobs 屠宰場 RAW 這個我還是用NodAI的圖 (2023 8月)

我挺喜歡[1]和[5]的綠毛，[5]那張大慨已修完了 最原初的慨念應該是隨便出一些圖，切成肉滿足一下而已……

炎姬就沒什麼進度…這次就不更加那部份了

★ Twitter - https://twitter.com/wingr2000 ★ ★ Discord - http://discord.gg/xtnWz4h ★ ★ If you enjoy my work, supporting me on ★ Fanbox https://wingr.fanbox.cc/

#ai art

[topreviewin]

DEAR SKIP MANNERS: We simply had our family room repainted and redecorated. Unbeknownst if you ask me, my partner, an established professional photographer, had certainly one of the woman photographs blown-up to a 3-foot-by-4-foot fabric printing and would like to hang it when you look at the newly minted living room. Only issue is, we don’t like picture, and I also actually don’t wish that measurements of picture holding inside our family room — specially when we now have artwork from about the entire world which used becoming regarding the wall space before we painted all of them. How do we inform this lady I’d choose to not have that printing regarding the wall surface without this exploding during my face? Yes, i am aware sugar goes a considerable ways to sweeten things, but that is a sensitive area. GENTLE READER: “I like it the way we had it before. You arranged those other pieces so beautifully. Wouldn’t that photo look fabulous in your office?” DEAR SKIP MANNERS: I’m traveling to business head office for a daylong ending up in stakeholders a few weeks. I recently got the schedule, and meal, happy hour and supper will undoubtedly be given to united states. For health reasons, we usually consume five smaller meals each day. Wouldn't it be uncouth to create a banana or sequence mozzarella cheese to treat on involving the offered dishes? Is having your own treat during a bunch conference unsuitable? GENTLE READER: individual treats might enjoyed during pauses, but unless you're willing to share, place them away during group meetings. String mozzarella cheese and bananas may show a distraction if you would not believe forward as if you — and result a workplace coup. In reality, you're going to have to excuse skip Manners, as she will today think about absolutely nothing else. DEAR SKIP MANNERS: we moved up to a friend’s household for products. There have been just three people truth be told there. The number had outlined some nibbles, and I also introduced some do-it-yourself crackers as a contribution. The number would not consume some of my crackers until I became going to keep — the gathering had been more than and each of united states visitors had been making at precisely the same time. She tasted one, declared it tasty, after that dumped the complete dish on the plate. I had been therefore amazed, we stated absolutely nothing. Had all of them already been consumed throughout the celebration, I would personally happen pleased. But since there have been many left-over, I experienced in the pipeline to just take all of them residence. I suppose i ought to said, “So glad you enjoyed them.” what's the appropriate etiquette for leftovers whenever taking meals to an event? GENTLE READER: When unsolicited outside meals is brought into some body else’s residence, it acquires squatter’s liberties and might sensibly be anticipated becoming the house associated with the home owner. Solicited products (as with potluck things) have actually murkier principles, therefore things often are offered in pots that have to be came back. So while your friend’s time had been regrettable, it absolutely was reasonable, in skip Manners’ estimation, on her behalf having anticipated that crackers had been a present-day and from now on belonged to this lady. And obviously simply to this lady. Kindly deliver the questions you have to skip Manners at the woman site, www.missmanners.com; to the woman mail, [email protected]; or through postal mail to skip Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106. #ways #wifes #art #walls #blowup

[artemishuntbooks]

Hey babes,

It’s me, your girl, AJ. I’ve just finished up a crime/suspense novel, and it was a doozy. In a good way. I liked it! Standoff has a little bit of everything, and I think it mostly played out well. It’s a clean romance where the Christianity is there, but not really sermonizing, you know? It’s just how I like my Christianity, available if I want it but not shoved in my face. There’s a plot twist towards the end that made me a little, uh, uncomfortable? It’s an SA situation, so if that’s a trigger, stay away. I’ll explain more about it as I go, but I don’t want you to backslide if you’re sensitive to SA. There is also a suspected self-unaliving, so keep that in mind too. Your health is more important, babes.

This story can kinda be divided into tropes, but I’m going to divide it into stuff I think is important because this is my party and I can cry if I want to.

(1) He’s sleeping with the fishes but no one can see that it was someone else who filled his shoes with cement. I’m mixing italian metaphors, but you get the picture. It’s also her dad?? Which is so, so sad, man. Like, so sad. But! She has her suspicions, and she’s going to use the skills he taught her and her experiences in the forest ranger academy to solve the crime. Rock on babes.

(2) Luke. Oh Luke. Buddy, you are, like, 8 tropes in one, man. Undercover agent, boy next door, ⅓ of a love triangle, childhood sweetheart, military, daddy issues, dotting nephew, insanely in love with the main character and never looked at another girl…like, how do you have time for all that?? I gotta say, I love you though. Like, nothing you do is objectionable. You are literally doing your job, pal. I feel so much sympathy for Luke. He’s so guilty! And for like the first time in my life, I whole-heartedly believe this man is innocent! Okay, so, Fallon was innocent too. But Luke! Luke has a heart of gold and actively TRIES to be better. Like, there are no hearts of platinum, Luke. You’re already perfect, babes. 

(3) Love triangles are so 2010. Gotta say though, I kinda understand this one. Like, she’s casually dating one guy, but she still has feelings for her childhood sweetheart. She likes her new guy, but mainly for his kid rather than him. Also, he kinda gives her a bad vibe? Like, I mean, there’s no reason for him to have bad vibes, but he kinda has them anyway? But Luke won’t commit. And she has dreams. Plans. She wants a partner to walk through life with. She wants kids. If Luke can’t give her that, she deserves to find it in someone else. In my opinion, this is how love triangles are supposed to be handled. Maturely. With understanding of all the feelings and emotions involved. 

(4) Southern gothic vibes. 

(5) OMG i love her best friend. As best friends go, great choice.

(6) I kinda hate how she treats her mom. I kinda hate it a lot. Like, girl. You have a right to be upset, I get that, but do not! do not! take it out on your mother. You found out that someone SA’d your mom when she was in college, and you get mad at her from keeping it from you??? Like, maybe this is why it was a secret!! Shut up!!

(7) the mary jane talk is wild in this one. Like, the author doesn’t want you to convert to Christianity, she wants you to convert to being pro-legalization. Which, hey, I respect that. Especially!!! for medical uses. But, wow. It is talked about a lot!!

All in all, I gotta recommend this read. It was fun and light hearted. I loved listening to it on audiobook. I got all my kitchen repainted to this bad boy. It was the perfect thing to be interesting during the day but not horrifying at night, you get me??

I’m glad you get me, bc idk if anyone else does.

Lots of love,

AJ

#book reviews #books #romance books #read #novels #thriller #mystery #action #detective #murder mystery #suspense #romance #lovers #love story #love triangle #law enforcement #forest rangers #tenessee #mississippi #legalization #southern gothic #rustic

[thatyamiguy-blog]

Daycare blues with a brown butt (FOP)

One wouldn't expect a hunt to happen in the middle of the town of Dimsdale, but that was exactly what was going on, at least from the point of view of one young resident. The Hunter was one Timmy turner, a boy who had been so tormented and teased by his babysitter Vicky and others that the powers to be granted him a pair of fairy god parents who could cast almost every wish he could make, as long as they didn't break da rules. The hunter was the younger sister of Timmy's babysitter who had a massive crush on Timmy, not helped by seeing all of the humiliating outfits her big sister had put him in and had made it her life's goal to marry and pamper him.. something he wasn't sure just meant spoil him. Timmy had been doing his best to avoid Tootie, unable to just wish the girl away since it would be in the way of one of the Da rules involving true love, and now found himself cornered in a back ally that frankly smelled awful. 'Wait..I know that smell! it's poopie diapers!' Timmy thought, hiding behind a dumpster as Tootie started down the entrance of the alley, coming off more as a horror movie monster then a love stuck girl. "Come out come out where ever you are Timmy~ I only have so long to play before I have to go do my volunteer hours for one of my cream puff badges~" She called. "Wanda! Cosmo!" Timmy whispered, and his fairy's showed up as a pink and green rat. "We're outside of the day care center! I wish I was one one the babies in there!" Timmy said, smirking at how just clever and smart he was. "Er..you sure you don't wanna go a bit older there sport?" Wanda asked. "Come on Timmy, come on out! you can come with me and I'll show everyone my new booooyfriend~" Tootie called out, getting close. "No time! baby me now!" Timmy yelped. "This will end badly!" Cosmo said raising his wand, but grinning. "But we'll get a show!" One poof later and Timmy was gone just before Tootie could find him, looking around in confusion.

Not for the first time, and likely not for the last Timmy was once again a baby, in a bulky white diaper and short pink t-shirt that didn't hide his baby fat belly. there was a pink bonnet on his head that had eyes and a mouth, turning out to be Wanda and a green bib around his neck, Cosmo. "We thought we better stick close to you sport." Wanda said with a chuckle. "Yeah, and it was this or a pacifier and a diaper! no thank you!" Cosmo added, making a icky face as Timmy giggled a little. Already knowing that trying to walk was going to be pointless, Timmy took in his surrounding at the happy stinkers daycare and noting they had gone with a jungle theme repaint on the walls since the last time he had hidden here to escape Vicky (which was a story all on it's own) there was only a few other babies around, which was fine with Timmy since he wasn't looking forward to huffing stinky diapers all day, plus it would make it easier to get his hands on the blocks needed to spell out his wish to change back. 'Let's see..Tootie said she had to volunteer soon..so if I just wait her out then i can spell out my wish and be home in time to watch captain nebula vs Crimson chin part 3!" Timmy thought, looking up at a clock and seeing it was only 10 minutes to 4. Crawling over to where the toy chest was Timmy found himself semi relaxing, and wondering if he couldn't just catch the epic show down on a rerun and maybe just enjoy a day as a big baby..at least until a foul smell hit his nose. one of the real babies was in the middle of filling his pampers and the stink worked like a smelling salt, making Timmy recall the worse part of all of this, which was Ironically not having to smell the other stinky diapers. It was making his own. Shuddering softly he just tried to breath though his mouth, though this got complaints from Cosmo as he was drooling on him and started to try and fish out the baby blocks from the toy chest...and only finding stuffies in there. '..No. No no no..Heh..they must..they must just be already out!' Timmy though, a soft stream of nervous baby babble coming out of his mouth. "Timmy seems scared, what's going on, I can't see from down here!" Cosmo asked. "Uh..looks like they might of gotten rid of the baby blocks..I always thought they were a little too hard and sharp for baby to play with.." Wanda said. "Ba ba goo!" Timmy snapped, no doubt a witty comeback but it lost something coming out in baby babble. "It's ok Timmy! I got proactive and decided to learn baby after the last time!" Cosmo said with glee. "Ba goo!?" Timmy asked, sounding deleted and plopping back on his butt, wiping his brow. "Wait for it.." Wanda said rolling her eyes. "Yeah! I start classes next week!" Cosmo added "and there it is!" Wanda snorted. Timmy however did more then snort, he started to wail and whine, flopping on his back and having a tantrum. 'NO! I don't wanna be stuck as a baby!! who knows how long it'll take me to be able to spell out my wish!? there;'s no way Cosmo will let baby talk fast enough to turn me back before I end up a diaper dumper for like a YEAR! ..Oh crap I'm gonna end up making TONS of poopie diapers!!' Timmy mentally wailed, tears streaming down his little face and his wails getting super loud. 'There is NO way this can get any worse!' "Awww what's wrong little guy?" Came a familiar voice and then there was a shadow over Timmy. looking up though tear filled eyes, there was Tootie, in her cream puff scout outfit and smiling down at him and then bending down to pick him up. "Does somebody need hugs?" '...I just HAD to tempt fate didn't I?' Timmy thought bitterly as he was cradled to Tootie's chest and she started to pat and rub his back. which damn it, if that didn't actually help calm him down.

Tootie sighed softly, glad that the little guy had stopped wailing as she had him and then held him out in front of her. "Feeling better now?" she coo'ed, even as if she didn't know better she would of sworn she was looking at Timmy at the moment, though while she might of thought about putting Timmy back in diapers and making him her widdle guy, he was totally a big boy. The little guy in her arms babbled and gurgled, blowing s pit bubble and Tootie just giggled. "Well spoken! come on, let's get some nummies in your tum tum!" She said pulling the little guy back closed and carrying him away from the play area, noting how much he seemed to squirm and whine. "Shhh, you can come back and play after you've had something to eat." She assured him and patted the little guys back, even as he fussed and whined even more.

the LAST thing Timmy wanted right now was poop fuel but naturally being restricted to baby babble (not that he'd want Tootie to known it was him anyways) his words fell on deaf ears as he was brought over to one of the high chairs. "Heh, I don't know your name little guy, but I'm gonna call you Timmy jr, after my boyfriend." Tootie gushed, taping a finger on Timmy's nose. 'EXCUSE ME!?! we are NOT dating!' Timmy fumed mentally and babbled and cried out as much which was just seen as still being fussy by Tootie. "Awww, your just so hungry aren't your Timmy Jr?" She coo'ed and turned away, him locked in the high chair, though not from a lack of effort to get out. "Don't worry! We have lots of jars of prune baby food!" She coo'ed turning around and holding up one and a spoon. 'Oh yay. because here I was thinking 'gee golly, I sure hope not only do i get poop fuel, but it's prune flavored.' ...Feck my life!' Timmy sarcastically thought, though his dry wit was lost even as he said it out loud as well, only succeeding in getting drool down his chin. the jar was opened and the as the spoon dipped in, Timmy tried in vain to try and wish himself out of this, but his frantic baby babble cries were just mistaken for eagerness to eat up. "Here comes the choo choo!" Tootie coo'ed.

Tootie was confused, even with how clearly hungry Timmy Jr. was, the little guy kept turning his head away from the baby food! Still she had 4 hours to kill and wasn't going anywhere so spoonful after spoonful she got it in Timmy jr.'s mouth, even if it dribbled down his chin and went onto his bib. As the last of the jar went in the little guys tummy gurgled and growled, proving that she was right that he was hungry and while there might of been a rule of just one jar at a time, she wasn't the type to let a little cutie starve and got out a second one, even as Timmy jr. babbled and gurgled like crazy.. no doubt happy to get more din din's. By the time she was finished with the second jar Jr had a bit of a pot belly going on and was gurgling and babbling away, baby food smear all around his mouth. "What do you think little guy, want anther one?" Tootie asked, not really expecting a sensible answer though she got one all the same as the little guy leaned forward and a massive wet fart erupted out of his behind. "Whoa! guess that answers that! Better get you out of there be-" but before Tootie could move to free Jr. the little guy was making it clear that the fart had just been a preview of the main event.

Timmy had never felt so full in his life, and his guts were churning big time even as his vision wavered. he'd given up trying to fight off the baby food as it wasn't doing him any good anyways and just wanted to get out of the highchair before he started to crap himself but of course with his luck he wasn't all that shocked as he found himself erupting in a series of poots after the first massive one and then hot smelly mush was pushing out into the seat of his huggies. Oddly as gross as it smelled and felt on his buns, and combined with the humiliation of pooping himself yet again, Timmy had to admit that getting all of that baby food out of his tiny guts felt good. Or at least it did till he found himself lifting up in the highchair, and soon his pot belly was pressing painfully on the tray and the diaper was expanding around the seat, almost looking like a alien trying to take over. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Timmy cried out, whining and tears coming to his eyes. Of course he knew that Tootie couldn't understand a single thing that he said but when you're making a massive poopie in your diapers because your a baby again, little things like logic fall to the side. Tootie got the gist of it anyways and got the tray off and picked him up, putting his head over her shoulder and patting his back as she got a arm under his toxic butt to support his weight. "Oh wow! your a super pooper huh!?!" Tootie asked with a giggle, heading to the changing table with him even as he kept going. with his fumes so bad he could almost see them and his nose burning, Timmy couldn't help but wonder how Tootie was holding up so well as he was plopped down with a squish on his butt. She kept her hands on him to keep him from falling off of the changing table though and just smiled at him. "Well!?! what are you waiting for! it's not gonna change itself!" Timmy huffed, then a loud and semi painful sputtering fart made him realize..he was still going and had just lost track of it! "oh good, because knowing I was gonna have to poop myself wasn't bad enough..I'm so glad I get to have the burden of actually controlling when it happens off the table." Timmy hugged even as he started to raise up on the changing table without having to get up to his feet. "..Darn how expandable ARE these things!?!"

Tootie was mentally squealing (OK she was doing it out loud too) at the site of Jr. being a super duper diaper pooper! A far cry from the rest of the girls who put in hours here, Tootie loved changing poo poo pampers. "Ok, it's official, your the diaper filling champion of the world!" Tootie giggled and tickled Jr's chin as the little guy finished up. He gave her a sleepy smile and was yawning lots and well, she couldn't really blame him there. she'd be tired if she had pushed out what looked like half his body weight into a huggie too. Laying the little guy on his back, Tootie took out a pacifier and popped it into his mouth and handed him a teddy bear to cuddle while she went to work cleaning him up, and wasn't surprised that within seconds the little super duper pooper was conked out.

Timmy woke up slowly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, not really looking around yet and started to talk. "Oh man.. Cosmo..Wanda..I had the weirdest dream that I got stuck as a baby again and..and.." Timmy trailed off as he opened his eyes and fully took in his surroundings, he was in a large wooden crib in a light pink sleeper that was puffed out around the hips from the diaper he was clearly wearing.  "ah ball's." he wasn't alone in the crib, there was two other babies and a familiar smell burned at his nostrils, making him put a arm up to his face and he was about to ask which one of the sleeping tots had fudged themselves then recalled his own 'record breaking performance' before he'd conked out and pushed himself up to his knees and reached behind himself for a self check. 'Please be clean please be clean please be clean!' Timmy silently prayed, the last thing he needed was to end up a bed messer and have it spill over to when he was a big boy.   dealing with Vicky was tough enough, if he ended up needing bedtime diapers he might as well just wish himself into a black hole and save himself the the humiliation. The good news was that he hadn't pooped the diaper in his sleep but the bad news was that his huggies were totally drenched.  Still given the choice between being a bed wetter or a bed messer, he'd gladly take the lesser of two evils. 'still doesn't help me out though.. those kids are toxic!' Timmy thought though if he was being truthful, their messy diapers were but a sweet smelling summer breeze to the hell he had unloaded. Looking around for Wanda and Cosmo, Timmy couldn't spot them but he guessed they had taken off knowing there was nothing they could do for him till Cosmo's classes started up and seeing him suffering was too much for them. it worked out anyways since having them around and knowing how easily they could save him but were stopped from doing it because of the language barroir was just a kick in the nuts..figuratively speaking.

Of course what Timmy couldn't of know was that Jorgen von strangle (the worlds toughest fairy) had decided to do a random one month boot camp for all the active faeries, citing that they were getting too many undo wishes and they needed to get their acts together. Wanda and Cosmo tried to explain out Timmy's situation to him and well, if they were expecting compassion and understanding well.. they really were barking up the wrong tree. "You're telling me the pinky hat boy will be trapped as the little baby till we're done? Maybe I'll make it TWO months!" He laughed. "Maybe we should of told him Timmy was having the time of his life doing something else and we wanted to get back and watch. He'd of sent us back to end it." Cosmo said as Jorgen walked away laughing. "..Of course, NOW your a genius." Wanda grumbled.

Tootie blissfully seemed to have gone home and as best as Timmy could tell looking at the clock, it seemed to be early evening. "huh, you think they'd be freaking out that no one's come to pick me or any of the other stinkers up." Timmy mused, then recalled he was in one of those daycare's that offered overnight service and long stays as required. "Fan freaking tastic.. and they don't even have a TV in here for me to watch SOMETHING." Timmy grumbled, crawling around in the crib as the mattress was too soft for him to try and attempt to walk, not that he really could anyways. finding a crib toy that would play different lullbyes and make a scrolling picture of a sail boat on a lake at one end, Timmy shrugged and twisted the dial. 'when in Rome..' he mused, and oddly found himself getting into the show as he watching, the music making his eyelids droop. his thumb found it's way into his mouth and Timmy rocked back and forth, barely aware as he started to grunt and push out anther load of soft serve into the seat of his diapers before laying down and going back to sleep, having one last thought. 'Maybe being a baby again for awhile won't be so bad.'

After only 2 weeks of hell (Jorgen had gotten in trouble for taking the faeries away from their kids THIS long) and a crash course in baby talk Wanda and Cosmo rushed back to the daycare hoping and praying that Timmy would be alright. and in a way he kinda was though he kinda wasn't. As it turned out the daycare used specialized tech in all of it's baby toys that was designed to work on a babies brain and keep them happy, dumb and drooling and ergo quiet so the staff didn't really have to worry about them. The effect normally only lasted while they were in the nursery of the daycare and exposed to the toys, and so it would wear off given time but after two weeks of nonstop stop baby time Timmy had gone full baby. Just because his brain housed his big boy mind  that didn't mean that it had been protected and 4 days in Timmy (or Timmy Jr. as everyone had taken to calling him) had pushed his big boy thoughts out into the back of one of his epic poopie diapers. case in point: the little guy was gurgling and playing peek a boo with Tootie, all smiles and then holding out his arms for uppies as she giggled and of course picked him up and cuddled him. "Uhh..Cosmo..what's he saying." Wanda asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tummy. "Well either I'm a really poor student.." Cosmo started, which Wanda had to admit, was a likely possibly. "Or he's just saying random words." "..You think we can shift blame for this on Jorgen?" Wanda asked, sweat dropping as she watching Timmy scrunch up his face and start to destroy a diaper. "I don't think we have anything to lose." Cosmo said then let out a cheer. "Woo! go Timmy! he's a champ!" he said, poofing a form finger on one hand and waving a little flag around that claimed Timmy was number one at number two. "..Really?" Wanda asked, rolling her eyes. "Hey! you know I love watching competitive diaper filling! I'm a former champ!" Cosmo huffed.

In the final aftermath minor changes were made so that Timmy was no longer Timmy jr, just the real Timmy and his parents and everyone else thought he was still just a baby. it was a pain to do but the only option left as by the time the higher powers had been called in, Timmy was in love with his new baby life. Sure the little guy had lost accesses to magical faeries and unlimited wishes, and it would be years before he'd get a chance to get into cartoons and action figures but in a way it would all work out since by the time he was ten again: A) there was no way Mr.crocker would still have his job. B) no way Vicky would still be babysitting. C) he'd grow up with a AWESOME semi big sister in Tootie who would indulge the little guys love of diapers even after getting potty trained.. But that's anther story.

The end

[acendemartwork]

Journal Entry 1 April 11 2012

It’s the dead of night as of when I am writing this, the burn still stings when I brush my hand up against the scarred flesh, thinking of the incident makes me want to vomit or pass out. The pain of the molten plastic burning my face and the nauseous smell it left behind was enough to make me pass out only to wake up in a hospital with needles and tubes connected to my body. I suppose having half my damn face burnt was a danger zone for how it went over my eye. I've been having trouble with seeing out of my left eye but I can make out objects and sometimes faces, if the person is still enough. I’ve been biding my time in my bedroom occasionally getting something to eat if necessary, Ada has been stopping by pissing me off with her damned questions “how are you feeling?” or “you need to eat more” it’s all bs and I know it. I barely remember what happened that day. It all just happened so fast that my brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening to me. I'm going back to work tomorrow so I suppose I should get some sleep.

Journal Entry 2 April 12 2012

Today was very hellish with the way it went, no one ever sees me because I work in the actual garage but seeing what I was doing was very hard to do, luckily I didn’t mess up on someones ‘precious GMC truck’ that’d be a bitch to deal with. Some of the fake assholes at work had questions on what happened and gave me false sympathy. And the snarky remarks continue “well now you look like a real nazi.” God, I’ve heard that so much when I first moved here from Deutschland to Amerika, the whole reason my family moved was for work, Ada fit in because she forgot who she truly was hell she never speaks our language! She was never made fun of because she fit in, she dyed her hair, she wore normal clothes, she joined cheer. And I grew my hair out and dressed in Nintendo or band t’s and joined robotics. Me and Ada never got along and I’m sick of hearing “she’s your sister, you should love and respect her” I have never loved a person. I have never cared for a person. I tolerate others, but that will not stop me from wanting to kill every fucking thing talks to me. I just wish to remove the virus of this world, humans, the stupidity of these creatures kills me slowly. Very painfully and slowly.

Journal Entry 3 April 15th 2012

I remember that one valentines day junior year. Bethany Smithon, she was an interesting girl, popular, friends with Ada, rich, and so damn annoying. Bethany had come over for sleepovers for Ada and she would bother me with annoying fucking questions when she did so. But it turns out she just liked me, so she asked me out that February the 14th and I said no, obviously. Bethany had been my first and only kill, her body was dropped into the river and to be found with her flesh deteriorating and slit throat, I remember what I said to her before slitting her throat with my pocket knife “love does not exist, it’s a made up factor to make you feel better about your pathetic self to compensate what you didn’t receive growing up.” She ended up crying of course which annoyed me more so I killed her. I'm aware most people would find that horrible but I removed one person from the factor of this world. Police never thought to question me, they ruled it out as a suicide but could never find the knife so they believed it sank to the bottom when I had it the whole time. Good times that year..

Journal Entry 4 April 17th 2012

I’m writing these at random for a reason, work and I don’t need to write as much. I fixed up my 1969 camaro I’ve been meaning to fix up, it still needs a repaint but it drives and that’s all I care for at the moment. Most of the richies aren’t a big fan of it but I don’t care. It’s a thing of mine I picked up from my dad, he could work on cars so I learned, Ada was never as fascinated as me. She focused on useless things like meeting people and liking people. As for me, I stayed in my room designing shit and being a pointless honor roll student with the best grades. It was all pointless, “you’ll go to a good college and become well known.” I work in a garage fixing cars for a living. The whole point of the bs was you’d feel “special” it made no sense and it still doesn’t. I was more superior to my sister in every way possible, she is nothing but a weak bitch that should just die already, wait…

Journal Entry 5 April 18th 2012

I did it, I actually did it. The headaches have stopped, I feel right once more. No one to bother me anymore, there’s still more I can do. My hands are covered in her blood as I write this, hell the blood is running down the pen to paper, it’s all over. I’m hiding in my car that’s right outside her house, I’ll be heading somewhere soon I don’t know where though. But Ada Keller is finally dead. I’m sure her wife will call the cops when she gets home but I don’t care, I’ve never cared. This is what I’m meant to do. Kill the living, humans are the reason for EVERYTHING, as they fight for things they caused. Ada and Bethany were just the start, it all will soon make sense in time of my plans..

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