#it was good practice using markers and filters

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Ten

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: It was in the drafts and it's been a while so I thought I'd post. Might not hear from me for a bit though after this, so I hope you like the next part. Thank you for all the love on this one.

Masterlist

A warm bout of light filtered into the bedroom through a small gap in the curtains. It gave the space a sepia feel, tinting the light bedding and walls a warm hazel colour. Creating a haze of skittering beams above me.

It wasn't much, the room. It simply held the necessities I thought I needed seeing as I didn't spend too much of my time in it, other than when I needed to dress or sleep. I’ve really had too many other things occupying my time during the past few years that have kept me from worrying over the state of it.

There was a rickety old dresser, which sat in the far corner and had been something I'd picked up during my time at uni. Student accommodation had been lacking and so Finn had decided, quite early on I might add, that it would be in our best interest to find ourselves some cheap furniture to fill it with.

In truth, we’d actually had to lug the pesky thing all the way down a dual-carriageway and across a roundabout, after having spotted it advertised in the window of our local offy. It held a good few memories though, like when the pair of us had jumped up onto it at the first sight of an eight-legged pal, or the time I’d walked in to find him getting railed over its top.

Then there was the large mahogany wardrobe that had been purchased from a wholesaler not very long after I had finally gotten a newly born Teddy settled into the tiny flat I'd rented out in Hackney. 

It had been cramped, what with the bathroom having been the size of a broom cupboard and the only bedroom having led straight into our ‘fun-sized’ kitchen. But we'd made it work. In fact, it had practically been a Godsend during those nightly feeds- six steps and I’d been right by the cooker!

The wardrobe had been a much needed purchase though, and one of the first things I had bought solely for myself since I’d moved out of mam’s.

Then there was the side table, sat next to the one edge of my bed that hadn't been backed into a wall, which held a reading light, a three wicked candle and a couple of novels with folded and refolded receipts sticking out the sides as page markers.

I had garnered quite the collection of books, I could admit, all of which seemed to line up haphazardly on the opposite wall. I tended to smile whenever I caught sight of its heavy shelves, a reminder of all the havoc that had gone into them whilst putting them up. It had taken me three whole days, and even though they were still a tad lopsided, I still gazed upon them in pride.

A woeful plant burdened my windowsill, a slither of its olive coloured pot barely seen from behind the billowing beige curtains. Whilst cushions sat in disarray across the hardwood floor below, having been tossed every which way the night previous.

There were dirty clothes in the hamper by the half-opened door and a basket of clean, partially folded, washing in a chair sitting beside the wardrobe. 

The room wasn't completely tidy, but not a tip either.

Humming groggily to myself, I began to stir from the deep sleep I’d lost myself in and used the ball of my palm to rub tiredly at my eye just as a furrowed line creased between my brows. 

It was far too quiet, I deemed, and must've been later than usual too because Teddy normally had us both up long before the crack arse of dawn. So I sniffed once and then went to turn over, just to check the time as I always did, but couldn't stop the way I stilled completely at the sight that greeted me.

Because in bed, right beside me, laid another body. One hidden deep beneath the weighted duvet and my favoured blanket, but a body nonetheless. 

Shit.

It appeared in the remaining foggy haze of last night, I had quite simply forgotten about the man I'd invited back home. And into my bed, it seemed. As well as the ill-timed events that had led up to it, too. 

My breath hitched when the man suddenly moved in his sleep and I did my very fucking best not to express any of my thoughts or feelings outwardly. Desperate not to actually rouse the sleeper. 

Instead, I inhaled. Once, then twice. Before finally, I gathered enough courage and strength to slowly inch myself all the way down to the very end of the bed. Mindful not to drag the duvet down with me.

Once I was standing- still fully clothed, I might tack on (thank you to small miracles!)- I allowed myself a second to just peer down and admire the dark, curling locks that now sprawled across my pale pillowcase. As well as the slither of skin which poked out from beneath the bed sheets. 

In all honesty, I couldn't actually recall the last time I'd shared my space like this, so freely it almost felt effortless.

Quickly though, I blinked myself out of those sorts of thoughts and took another, much needed, deep breath. The flat was still as quiet as it had been a moment prior, but I was careful to tread incredibly lightly when I turned to grab the nearest set of clean clothes. Then, cautiously, I started to tiptoe my way out of the bedroom.

Standing in the hallway, with a wooden door now planted firmly between me and my overnight guest, I threw my head back in silent ire. Questioning just how, why! I had gotten myself into a situation this stress inducing, a situation I had not been in since my days at uni. I could only  just begin to imagine how this would all pan out once everyone was finally wide awake and Teddy had-

Oh God, Teddy!

It was painfully embarrassing to admit that I had just about worked myself into a right state before it finally hit me that Teddy was, in fact, still with Finn. At his flat, not even ten minutes away, and not down the hall, sleeping in the same space as a fucking strange bloke he’d never even set eyes on.

So with that anxiety riddled train of thought now settled, I found that I was ultimately calmer and took a deep breath before resolving to head off to the loo before anything else happened to occur. Or before I sent myself into another full blown panic attack.

I wandered down the rest of the hall into the bathroom and went about my business before stripping out of last night’s clothes. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the laddered tights I’d since tugged off, those which would surely have to go straight in the bin, and then stepped into a pair of well-worn joggers as well as a newer jumper I’d found during the early summer sales.

It was a long and thoughtful process that had me deciding that I should start on a pot of tea, because if I couldn't sneak my way out of this entire affair via the front door, then tea would simply have to do. Us Brits, hey?

But first, I needed to find my phone.

The thing wasn't too hard to locate. I found it lying on the kitchen counter when I walked in, charging, and did my best to recall the events of the previous night as I puttered around to fill the kettle.

There had been the phone call.

Then Finn taking Teddy.

The tube ride to the bar.

Ronan... As well as everyone else.

And then, Matty had appeared out of nowhere and turned my entire sodding night on its head.

"Christ." I heard myself grumble under my breath, feeling as though I had aged an entire year in a single night.

The hangover I was now supposed to be nursing was teetering around the edges of my mind, a headache oncoming I reckoned seeing as though my shock had hit it clean off onto the verge upon waking up. But still, I found myself rubbing at my temples for a brief second before splaying my palms out on the cold counter in an attempt to calm my brewing emotions.

"Could tell you a few ways to reach him, but I don't reckon he's the sort to make house calls..."

I startled at the sound of the unexpected voice and snapped my head straight up to find Matty standing in the doorway to my kitchen. The man had apparently foregone trousers, choosing instead to make up for the lack of material on his bottom half with a pair of thick socks and an oversized jumper I knew had been draped across my dresser only moments earlier. 

I couldn't find it in himself to complain though, not that I would've. Matty looked far too indecent standing there, morning light illuminating his milky skin and shadowing his already dark, tousled hair, watching me through bleary eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Is what I chose to reply with, heartbeat still a little erratic, pulsing in the curve of my throat. I reached a hand up to tug on an earring, the other arm moving to wrap its way around my torso.

Matty’s lip quirked upwards when he stepped further into the room, just as the kettle whistled away to a boil.

"You're alright." He waved off, and shook his head lightly as he made his way over to where two mugs had since been placed on the counter. Two mugs I’d put down without much thought as to whether or not he was sticking around long enough for a brew.

Still, I hadn’t needed to fret over it, seeing as I was forced to watch on as Matty brewed the tea himself; popping a tea bag into each cup and steeping them in hot water. He then cocked a questioning brow in my direction which startled me into motion.

"Sugar’s in the tin.” I told him softly, pointing in its direction, “You'll have to make do with skimmed milk though I'm afraid, got none of that oat shit."

Matty snorted in retort and crossed the floor to open the fridge, looking almost too at home in my austere, little kitchen. Especially when the jumper he wore rid high enough up his thighs to expose the edging of his tight, black boxers.

I looked away.

"Might be a bigshot, babe, but a decent cuppa means actual milk." Matty tutted, paying no mind to the homage of colourful drawings on my fridge door as it rattled shut, and then returned to his station to pour an ungodly amount of milk into one mug. He hovered the bottle over the other.

"Just a splash, please. No sugar." I told him quietly and he hummed in turn, stirring methodically before he fished the teabags out and into the bin.

I took my mug rather cautiously once Matty had picked up his own and taken perch on top of my countertop, feeling a bout of unease at seeing the singer so comfortable in my humble home. What must he think of it all?

I tried not to stress anymore than I already had and took a small sip instead, looking at the way the man opposite fiddled with the old school radio that resided on the closest shelf. It was something I'd brought along with me from back home, it had belonged to one of my grandfathers, I wasn't sure which, but it tended to soothe me whenever I cooked in the late evenings, or during the long nights when Teddy was up all hours. 

The warm tea soothed my dry throat and eased some of that tension I still had coiled in the line of my shoulders, enough so that I felt the need to start up another conversation just to fill the lingering silence.

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip and then I cleared my throat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

"So, about last night..."

I was overall quite surprised to see the way Matty's entire mood immediately shifted upon hearing my opener. His lethargic demeanour- mostly down to having just woken up- stiffened entirely and sharpened his tired eyes and soft lips.

"Last night." Parroted Matty, voice low and tinged with a slight rasp that I hadn't paid much attention to a minute ago. It held power, though toneless. 

I paused, if only for a moment to weigh my next words. It was important that Matty understood that last night had been a bit of an overreaction on my part, that I’d misstepped whilst drunk, and not something other. I couldn’t deal with any of that right now, if ever. No one needed to know the extent of what had gone down.

"Ronan, he's... well, he's just always been a bit protective."

Matty stared back at me, his face utterly blank. Enough so that I actually startled slightly when he scoffed. It was a loud sound that echoed off the tiles, before his jaw set sternly and his narrowed eyes met my own. “Hang on, you're actually choosing to defend that dickhead?" 

I blinked in return, gaping in truth, at the realisation that I’d completely forgotten the fact that I'd explained much of what had happened, drunkenly, to Matty on the cab ride home. The same journey which had ended with not only Matty escorting me up to my front door but me also inviting him inside. 

Couldn’t he have just been a gentleman and declined? Left me to choke on my own sick and perhaps allow me to die with the little dignity I’d had left?

It wasn't anything like most would've probably imagined though, the whole me asking him up thing, that much I knew. My intentions hadn't been anywhere near illustrious and I certainly hadn't set out to lure the illusive singer into my bed. I’d merely wanted some company after all that had happened that night is all, scared to be alone with the guilt, even.

Which was honestly a first for me. It had always been so much easier for me to just deal with my many thoughts and complicated emotions alone, behind closed doors and far, far from judgement. 

It seemed that the alcohol had addled my mind slightly.

I couldn’t help the sigh I gave then, nor the way I curled up further into the wooden chair I’d since sat in.

"No, just-"

Matty scoffed again, this time cutting me off completely. "Well, it sounds as though you are, darling."

I went to argue but found I couldn't- not that Matty gave me much of an opportunity to though. No, the man simply stampeded on, didn’t he?

Were all rock stars this pigheaded?

"I mean, for fucks sake, Mouse! What were you thinking? I've met my fair share of arseholes but he was no doubt one of the biggest, toed right in line beside me when I was off my face, in truth. He was so fucking arrogant, controlling and- moody! My God, he was a downright moody prick, too. And those were just my thoughts before seeing the aftermath of what went down at the end of the night!” 

He shook his head vehemently.

"And protective, really Squeaks? I'm sorry to say this, babe, honest I am, but you might need a reality check, mate. He was downright possessive. Glaring at you the entire night only to try and stake his claim the second you were alone."

I gritted my teeth, unhappy with the way Matty had portrayed everything.

"He's a friend!" I tried to defend but Matty, who had since quietly settled his mug down in spite of his obvious anger, jumped off the counter and stepped forward.

"More like deranged!" He spat back, "I saw you! I was fucking there! I had to look into your eyes, see the blinding panic, the fear. Don't tell me that he's a friend, not when he caused a reaction like that. I mean, you can be intimidating when you want to be- all sweet like, subdued, and intelligent. You're all these fascinating things rolled up into one oversized jumper, and yet, you let someone like him walk all over you? Treat you like you're his property or something." He scoffed once more, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words he was having to spew.

I stared long and hard into his dark eyes before I couldn't stand to any longer, instead I turned away to blow out an unsteady breath.

Matty was right, I knew that much, alright? But it didn't mean I had to enjoy having to admit to that. Having someone else in on a secret I’d kept for so long, one I hadn't even realised I’d been keeping, not really. It all just felt like a little too much to be dealing with all at once and so early in the morning to boot. Because in actuality, I didn't want to face up to the fact that I had actually allowed someone to treat me that way. To know that other people had finally been a witness to it. Seen me that weak.

I had vowed long ago to never let another person put me in such a state of vulnerability. But here I was, a-fucking-gain.

I heard Matty sigh before socked feet dragged closer and I felt a gentle hand come to rest at the bow of my elbow. He sighed again, softer this time though, when I only continued to stare resolutely out of the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry for blowing my top, yeah? I just- it annoys me, to see you wash your hands of it so easily. As though you believed what he'd done was okay."

I swallowed thickly.

"You deserve better than that, okay?" Matty added.

I had to glance up at the ceiling to blink away the mist in my eyes, but did finally dip my head in silent acknowledgement, pulling away slightly so that I could take a moment to gather myself.

Matty didn't move when I crossed the kitchen floor to riffle through my cupboards, rooted to the ground almost, but he was spurred into action only a few seconds later.

I’d just placed a carton of eggs on the side and moved to turn on the hob when the old radio stuttered to a start. It let that silence I so hated fade away, and gave me the kick I needed to carry on.

"How'd you like your eggs?" I asked, and felt more than saw Matty’s relieved smile. He just had a way of taking up all the space in a room, as though he were its own gravitational pull and everyone else just had to be aware of his every cue. 

I hid my own, however tiny smile, as best I could.

"Fried. Got any bacon?"

And just like that, things evened out and our 'talk' was seemingly long forgotten. To be honest, I actually got so caught up in the normality of it all, the radio playing, the sidestepping, the easy smiles, that I completely forgot about the world around us. Everyone else that lived beyond these four walls.

It was just as we’d finished up eating and Matty had jumped up to grab our plates, that a familiar alert sounded. I glanced away and was reminded that life had in fact continued on without us.

I hurried over to where my phone was still sat on the side and worried at my lower lip when I saw the many notifications which lined the dimming screen. The newest was from Finn.

Messages now Finnleyyy Awake yet drunkard? Got a little man here ready to head home, well fed and only a little dirty!

It was instantaneous the way my gaze darted up to where Matty was now standing by the sink, only a tad surprised to find him making an attempt at the washing up. He must've felt my eyes on him though because he turned to flash me a grin over his right shoulder a second later. I tried my best to smile back, but the thought of Teddy meeting Matty, and of Matty meeting Teddy... just didn't sit quite well with me.

My thumbs flew their way across the screen to type up a speedy reply. 

Messages now Just woke up Sort of got a visitor? And before you start, no it wasn't like that, but I promise to tell you more when you get here Can you give me half hour??

It was only a little embarrassing, having to mention my overnight guest, especially whilst knowing it was the same man Finn had been blatantly teasing me about these past few weeks, but I really didn't want to have these two parts of my life crossover. Not right now.

With everything I understood about Matty and his past, I had to be certain that he was the kind of person I wanted my son to be around. The kind of person my son was safe to be around. And I was nowhere near sure where I currently was on that scale.

Matty was unreliable. His job had him everywhere and nowhere at once, up all hours of the day, and on a bus most months out of the year. That was something I really had to consider here. 

Because I really was just trying to be brutally honest with myself. No matter how genuine Matty might've seemed in his recent efforts, I also knew that he was bound to get bored of our dubious friendship sooner or later, and that Teddy tended to get rather attached quite quickly. And I wouldn't stand by and watch my son get hurt when Matty finally chose to walk away. It was tough, him only having so few people constantly around, I wished so greatly that I could give him the big family I’d always dreamed of, but new people always had me so weary.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when Finn finally messaged back giving me the okay, as well as the expected hard time.

Messages now Finnleyyy Ah I'll be sure to rinse you of every detail, you lazy sod! And Teds will be fine, we'll stop off at the park on our way over

Matty popped up right beside me then, just as I exited my messages, and I was merely thankful that I'd managed to avoid him seeing anything that could have led to questions. In an attempt to both evade and act casual, I scrolled down further to see who else had texted. 

"Anything interesting?"

I blinked up at him, mouth now suddenly agape, then to my screen, then back up at him.

"Erm, you might want to see this." I told Matty as I all but threw my mobile into his hands. 

The Sun 07:34 HOTHEAD HEALY IS BACK AND MAKING HEADLINES WITH DARK HAIRED BEAUTY

MTV 08:02 MATTY HEALY SPOTTED AT LONDON BAR WITH NEW FLING!

The Mirror 08:11 A WILD NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN FOR 1975 SINGER AND FRIENDS TURNS SOUR

In all the new texts I’d gotten Jamie had been the one to send the first few articles, but one seemingly spiralled into another, like a spider spinning its deceitful web.

Matty’s sudden bout of boisterous laughter startled me though, the sound so unexpected, and I shot a hasty look over to find an amused smile dancing on his lips whilst he shook his head.

"Erm," I attempted, but stopped there when I realised I didn't quite have the words, or rather no actual clue on what to say.

"Same old story." Matty told me, shrugging it off as though him being pictured simply standing next to Indra, the friend of a friend from last night, in a crowded bar was enough to warrant such a spectacle.

"But you barely said two words to her!" I retorted when Matty handed me back my phone, surprised by his utter nonchalance.

He only shrugged again! "All publicity's good publicity, and all that crap. Besides, I know the truth, the people who matter know the truth," He dipped his chin over at me then for some reason, "And so does she. They'll find something, or someone else, to hound soon enough."

"What, so it really doesn't bother you then? Being made out to be this person you're not."

"A slag, you mean?" Matty teased as a mischievous smile limned his lips. 

Tutting, I could only roll my eyes at him before I forced myself to my feet and wandered over to the sink. The bigshot singer made an abrupt noise of indignation when he realised that I really did intend to redo all of his hard work.

"Oi, I already did those!"

I couldn’t hide my smirk as I rinsed the plates off properly, honestly glad for the distraction. "And you did quite well, what with it being your first try."

Matty scowled halfheartedly, but I took note of the faint blush that flushed the back of his neck. Seemed like I wasn't too far off in my assumption.

"So, what did Jamie have to say about it all then?" Matty quipped, swiftly changing the subject.

I let him have it, not saying a word more on the topic before I went to dry my hands. "What I think you mean to ask is, why did he text me?"

"Well, yeah." Matty replied with another single shoulder shrug, "How did he even know that we were together?"

"Made a good guess?" I supplied simply when I found that I didn't really have the answer to that particular question. 

But privately, I reckoned that maybe Jamie hadn't realised that Matty and I had been together at all. I hadn't been photographed in any articles, from what I'd seen at least, and neither me nor Matty had had any contact with him until right now. 

Maybe Jamie had just wanted to let me in on what was happening, on the know, perhaps he'd wanted someone to rant or share his frustrations with. It wouldn't have been the first time. 

So I made a mental note to message him again later, when Matty was long gone and I had time to stew on all of this.

"Enough about him anyway, what are you up to today?" Matty asked me as he jumped backup into the counter. I consciously avoided looking at the way his thighs pressed against the granite, the tattoos that marked the length of his skin.

"Apart from bleaching your arse off of my countertops?" I snarked back and snorted when Matty merely wiggled his arse in retort, "I've got a couple of things to sort today."

"Work things?"

I hummed my general assent but avoided meeting Matty’s eye, not wanting to outright lie. I really did have plans though, plans to waste the day away with Teddy, grab a late lunch, and maybe head off to the cinema to watch that new superhero film he'd been yapping on about for the past two weeks. Only, I couldn't tell any of that to Matty.

"What about you?" I asked instead (always so polite!) as I went about the kitchen, clearing away what remained of our cooking session. I'd rather get the majority done now, than fret over it later.

"Not much." Matty mumbled as he ran a fingertip along the edge of a nearby cupboard, kicking his feet up when I swept past. "Avoid Jamie, dodge a couple calls, maybe meet up with some friends. Think Ross got the new FIFA, so might bug him for a bit."

I hummed around a small smile, returning the dry cutlery back to its rightful drawer, "That Danny guy?"

Matty flashed me a knowing smile. "Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps?" I mimicked, shooting him a questioning brow.

"It's a combination of words, Squeaks. Emphasises the meaning!"

I snorted. "I'm sure."

Matty chuckled quietly to himself before he finally pushed himself off of my kitchen side and back onto his feet. "Well, I'd best get out of your hair then. Leave you to do your important work and what not."

I faked a sigh of evident relief and dodged the swat he aimed at my arm, grinning as I rounded a table chair.

"Don't act like you won't miss my Godlike presence, darling." Matty looked down his nose at me mockingly as he made his way over to the doorway.

A belly laugh bubbled up out of me upon hearing that and Matty all but lit up at the sound. "Godlike? Wow, it's nice to know that fame really does get to some people’s heads."

Matty cut his eyes at me and with a mirthful smile, flipped me off. "Dick. I'm just gonna head up and get changed. That alright?"

I dipped my head, feigning wiping down the table before I glanced up to watch him walk away, finding my smile never faltering even after Matty had disappeared from sight.

It wasn't too long later when he popped back up again though, all dressed up in a pair of expensive boots and the tight trousers he'd been wearing last night. I didn’t miss the flash of my jumper that had been hidden somewhere behind the zip of his jacket though, but I didn’t say anything, pleased that he’d taken a liking to it. 

Looking at him, it didn't even seem as though he'd been out drinking all night, or that he'd just rolled out of the bed of some other. He looked rather lovely like this, still a tad bit sleepy- it was all in the crook of his smile, you see- and soft.

"Well, I'd best be off then." Matty announced from where he was now stood idling waiting in the hallway. 

I propped myself up against the bannister and found myself wearing an amused smile, drinking him in. "Best be."

He grinned back over at me and just when it felt as though he was about to reach out, he stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and pointed at me with the other. "I'll text you later, yeah? So make sure to actually reply this time, all right?"

Rather dramatically, I blew out a large breath and crossed my arms over the ball that sat atop the bannister’s wooden beam. "Seems like a hard task..."

I laughed when Matty shot me a particularly nasty glare, but relented.

"I'll be waiting on your many messages, my dear." I corrected, doing my best to feign the doting wife sending her husband off to war, even going as far as to clutch at my jumper in a pained goodbye.

"You’d better." Matty smirked and when I took a step away from the staircase, he decided to take that as his leave.

Though it was just as he was halfway out the front door that he paused and turned back to chance a glance at me, ring clad fingers toying with the latch on the inside lock. 

"We might've dropped the subject but, just know, if I ever see that ginger prick near you again I will put my fist through his face hard enough that he'll be shitting out my rings." And with that Matty dipped his chin at me once and let the door swing shut behind him.

I wasn’t ashamed to say that I stood there in the silence that encompassed the house for a very long moment, before my lips finally quirked upwards and I let myself laugh. 

It seemed that everyone was right, Matty Healy truly did have a way with words. Only, the wrong kind.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #pining #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[mothonthewall]

DUDE I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR ART ‼️‼️

I do a lot of traditional art aswell but your colors/textures looks SOOOOO a good. Do you have any specific tips???

im self taught so im really bad at explaining my processes and how i do things but i will try 👍 1. the way i learned color theory was choosing colors not as they are but how they would be in relation to the colors around them. before i could do it manually i started editing the colors of my art digitally with filters and such. i took note of how they looked after i edited it 2. this may seem silly but how i learned to do it manually was making characters on ponytown and picking the colors from my filtered art via hex codes to color them. it genuinely helped me alot. 3. practice with overlays. another way i was able to learn how to use color theory in my traditional art was coloring my character in normally and shading it normally but coloring over all of it with a marker 4. im a character designer- an unprofessional one but uhhh... be that as it may i look at the way fabric works often for my designs. pay attention to the shapes that light makes on different textures example with latex

i hope this helped! like i said, i am not a professional artist and i honestly dont know what im doing. these are just some things that i learned myself

#my art #artwork #art #artists on tumblr #illustration #drawing #art tips #art tumblr #reference #art advice #traditional art #traditional illustration #traditional drawing #traditional sketch #traditional painting #not art

[leprosycock]

can I ask what your whole, like, drawing process is? I always admire the coloring/shading and stuff on the pieces you post on twitter, the stylized ones as well as the gorgeous painting-type ones (im asking abt the process cause idrk the specifics of what makes your drawings so good & I really want to learn, just started digital art and its always harder to parse out a digital artist's process/technique esp when its a fully-rendered piece). oh please share the magic efficient formula for making fucked up fantasy-fulfillment pornographic drawings :333

idk if tumblr will allow me to upload a nearly three minute video but here’s a decent recap of my general process for painterly pieces. i photobash or block in the pose that i want (which is industry standard and a common practice for illustrators, keep that in mind) and sketch out details, then paint underneath it and eventually merge everything into one layer so i can clean it up and finalize details. i also layer on a fuckton of filters and use lighting to my advantage. this is the method that works for me. i usually use medium airbrush for sketching, color flat medium for flat colors, and marker blocky smooth for painting from azzylum’s sai brush pack for procreate. i will also stress that i don’t really know what i’m doing and everything i’ve ever learned in digital art has been self-taught (digital art is so taboo in art school for a variety of reasons) and i struggle with it enormously and constantly even after having done it for years. it takes a lot of time!! be patient with yourself, do lots of studies, let yourself develop a style, and experiment with brushes 🫶 you’ll do great!!!

#bunnyaskz

[starsailorstories]

18, 38, 39!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

I’ll do a recent one:

Dialtone pauses, and for a moment Oakley is sure she’s going to say no. There are so many reasons, most of them good, why Bell Town projects fall through at this stage, when something is needed and so the Founder looks into the logistics. It’s her job to know all the ways an idea could be expensive, or unsafe, or just a nuisance–that’s why they bothered to come to her, so they can be disappointed quickly and get it over with and move on to plan B. Oakley braces herself, and Dialtone says–

“You know what? Yes.”

“Really?”

She drops a scrap of rec-exchange ticker tape onto her desk and looks up at them, smiling, relieved. Maybe she only hesitated to savor the moment. “Every goddess, yes, I can do that. That’s something I can pay off a street kid for. Do you want colors?”

“Can we get colors?”

“Don’t see why not, as long as we’re going to be looking for a regular source for drawing stuff anyhow.”

“Then sure. Colors! Yes!” Morpheme’s clean-edged performer’s light-beam is sprouting telescoping petals of excitement. Though it was Oakley’s idea in the beginning, most of the momentum on this has come from her. The tiny custom-made’s room-filling projections take hours to plan and days to practice–they’re more than a few drying markers brought from Earth can capture. Hence the need for charcoal and wax, paint if Dialtone can find it. And she can. She can!

It took a couple drafts and a lot of overcoming the fatal fear of being uncool to actually give this scene any tension. The thing about doing shorts like this that explore more minor characters is that I, the writer, know everything about all these characters and their world. I know Oakley and Morpheme are not actually making a big ask here. I know DT really wants to say yes, and that her severe front is to protect herself from the emotional toll of saying no to so many basic, reasonable things that their position makes dangerous or impossible. But Oakley just knows she’s daring to pursue something that’s always been dismissed and disapproved of, even by her peers. When I went back to edit I surprised myself with how filtered through my own knowledge, rather than her feelings, the early drafts were. I often have this issue when I try to finish a full piece—I start with a few vitally emotional jottings and then when I go to connect the dots after developing the big picture a lot more the “connective tissues” are dead and I have to go back over and put some blood back in em’.

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

I often “try out” dialogue at multiple stages, and one of those stages is literally making wordless speech noises under my breath (like literally “mmmMMmm mMM”) to think about the rhythm/patterns of emphasis I want. I’ve only been caught doing it once but I’ve been told it sounds very threatening. Also saying dialogue you’re considering out loud is so risky lol I really really hope that my neighbor has never heard the conversations I have with my wall about topics like whether the ineffable god-empress is going to execute those political prisoners

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

Can’t let these little freaks from my brain down

#asks #sweet chariot #jeejyboard

[pantrydesert3]

What Is Diabetes

When the blood vessels of your retina are broken, fluid can leak from them and cause swelling in your macula. The macula is the a half of the retina that gives you sharp, clear vision. Laser surgery can often be used to treat or decelerate retinopathy if discovered early. People who've diabetes should have an eye exam annually. In addition, many extra Mississippians stay with the issues of kind 2 diabetes, including lower extremity amputations, end stage renal disease, blindness, loss of protecting sensation, coronary heart disease and untimely demise. Polyuria Polyuria is a rise in the frequency of urination. When you have abnormally high levels of glucose in your blood, your kidneys draw in water out of your tissues to dilute the glucose, in order that your physique can get rid of it by way of the urine. Your cells will also pump fluid into the bloodstream to assist flush out sugar; the kidneys are unable to reabsorb this fluid throughout filtering, which leads to excess urination. These issues, particularly cardiovascular disease (approximately 50-75% of medical expenditures), are the main sources of expenses for patients with diabetes mellitus. Results from a examine by Guo et al suggested that in sufferers with COVID-19 infection, the increase in inflammatory and coagulation markers is larger in these with type 2 diabetes mellitus than in individuals without diabetes. This might help to point why the chance of more extreme illness and dying from COVID-19 infection is greater in patients with diabetes. Type 2 diabetes is characterized by a mixture of peripheral insulin resistance and inadequate insulin secretion by pancreatic beta cells. MeglitinidesPrandin is a meglitinide, which additionally stimulates the pancreas to release extra insulin when taken with meals. SulfonylureasGlucotrol andAmaryl belong to this class of drugs, which stimulate the pancreas to release extra insulin when taken with meals. The most common mutations for MODY are discovered in the GCK gene or the HNF1A gene, in accordance with MedlinePlus. Worldwide, more than 422 million individuals had diabetes in 2014, in accordance with the World Health Organization . Gluco Shield Pro Review may be shared with the household online at -Cummings.com. As I dietitian, I assist veterans with food regimen and nutrition wants. Anyone knows that any good soccer group doesn’t just show up to play hoping it all works out in their favor. Instead, they spend numerous hours practicing and finding out their opponent with a plan to win. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention stories in 2020 that more than 34 million individuals in the United States have diabetes.

#Diabetes Mellitus #Type 2 Diabetes #Diabetes Tipo 2 #What Is Diabetes #Diabetes Symptoms #Diabetes Tipo 1 #Diabetes Uk #Type 1 Diabetes #Causes of Diabetes #Diabetes Medications #Diabetes Typ 2 #Diabetes Type 2 #Diabetes Type 1 #Diabetes Drugs #Diabetes Causes #Diabetes Nursing #Tipos De Diabetes #Diabetes Treatment #Symptoms of Diabetes #Type 1 Vs Type 2 Diabetes

[umichenginabroad]

Week 0: Next Stop… Praha!

Dobrý den, všichni! (Good day, everyone!)

My name is Reese and I’ve just arrived in Prague! I’ll be blogging this semester from February 1 until May 10, for the IFSA IPE Tech Accelerator program in Prague, Czechia! A little about me: I’m a junior at UMich studying computer science and pursuing the international minor for engineers. I love hiking, thrifting, weight lifting, and I’m trying to read more books so drop a note if you have any good recs :) 

As were the other IPE Bloggers, I was driven to write about my experience studying abroad for the sole purpose of sharing a genuine, authentic perspective for prospective UM students wishing to follow in my footsteps. I value transparency, so my posts will be honest and detailed, and will shed light on the unpleasantries alongside my positive experiences. 

In my time abroad, I strive to be present, engaged, and true. I’ve set a few goals for myself alongside forwarding my engineering education and practice:

Conversational in Czech: I find new languages fascinating, so it was a no brainer for me to start practicing Czech as soon as I got into the program! With a couple months of duolingo behind me, I’ve been able to recognize greetings, phrases, and key markers here that I definitely would’ve been intimidated by otherwise. All UM students on the program are required to take Essential Czech or Beginner Czech I here, so the majority of my learning Czech will take place alongside my friends.

Get involved in a local organization: In my previous travel experience, I’ve found the best way to immerse myself is to jump right in with the locals. I am extremely passionate about STEM outreach, especially when it comes to mentoring or encouraging participation of underrepresented groups in STEM, so I hopefully plan to extend this volunteer work in my time in Prague. 

Explore my host country (Czechia) beyond the city of Prague: While I plan on doing my fair share of traveling Europe while I’m here, I want to shed a more focused light on all the Czech Republic, specifically, has to offer. Our program has scheduled an overnight excursion to Brno, the country’s second largest city and famous for its trade fairs, but I also plan on exploring the country’s natural landscape in Šumava National Park (or Ceský ráj), and its rich history in Český Krumlov.

Now for a live update… experience a long travel day with me through pictures! 

Finally, at the end of each of my posts I’m going to share a couple of ins (things that are working) and outs (things that have caused me some trouble). For this blog post, the ins and outs are more material and pertain to the packing, preparation, and travel that I’ve done these past few days, but they could be anything in accordance with the week I’m blogging about.

Ins:

Grayl: Fortunately, the tap water in Prague is safe to drink and of high quality. However, as a precaution for my future travels, I bought a Grayl water bottle to filter and purify water (against both water borne bacteria and viruses) from any source, and it’s been super easy to use so far.

Airalo: I used this for cell service in South Africa and it worked seamlessly, so I bought another E-Sim through Airalo for my time in Prague that’s valid for 30 days at a time in all EU countries (10 GB for 22 USD). It doesn’t say it has a top-up package on Airalo, but once the E-Sim is installed, the external provider gives the user access to an app that offers renewal and other management of the E-Sim. I will keep you guys updated when I go through the process of renewing it in a month.

Compression travel bags: These saved my life while packing and will be perfect for weekend trips that limit my baggage. The ones I bought are reusable, don’t require a vacuum, and have multiple variations of quantities and sizes on Amazon (~$15 USD for 12 bags).

Outs:

Passport Control: I hope I’m not the only one that grows impatient in long lines like these, but I can’t complain because I made it through with plenty of spare time for my connecting flight. Since we went through it in Amsterdam, we didn’t have to in Prague since they’re both in the EU, but my roommate who flew from the UK was stuck in line for over an hour when she got into Prague.

Period problems: Disclaimer they do not have free sanitary products in any of the public bathrooms I’ve been to in Amsterdam and Prague thus far. Applicators are not always included. Ugh.

I desperately need sleep so this is going to conclude my first blog post. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for a roommate reveal! 

Tak čau, (Goodbye,)

Reese Liebman

Computer Science and Engineering

Institute for Study Abroad (IFSA) CS Tech Career Accelerator in Prague, Czechia

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEcsPrague #ReeseLiebman #IPEWinter24 #CzechRepublic

[weriion]

A Beginner's Guide to Camping Hiking: Tips and Tricks for an Unforgettable Adventure

Embarking on a camping hike can be a thrilling and fulfilling outdoor experience. Surrounded by nature's beauty, you can disconnect from the hustle and bustle of daily life while exploring breathtaking landscapes. However, for those new to this adventurous activity, it's essential to be well-prepared and informed. In this article, we will provide you with valuable tips and tricks to ensure your camping is a success.

Choosing the Right Location

When planning a camping trip, selecting the right location is crucial. Research various destinations and consider factors such as accessibility, terrain, and weather conditions. National parks, state forests, and designated campgrounds often offer well-maintained trails and amenities. Make sure to check if permits or reservations are required and if there are any restrictions on campfires or wildlife encounters.

Essential Gear and Equipment

Packing the right gear and equipment is vital for a comfortable and safe camping. Invest in a quality tent that suits your needs and can withstand various weather conditions. Sleeping bags, sleeping pads, and camping pillows will provide a good night's rest. Don't forget to pack a sturdy backpack, cooking utensils, a portable stove, a headlamp or flashlight, and a first aid kit. Dress appropriately for the weather and bring extra layers, including rain gear and warm clothing.

Navigation Tools

While exploring unfamiliar trails, it's essential to have reliable navigation tools. Carry a detailed map of the area or use a GPS device to track your route. Familiarise yourself with the trail markers and understand how to read the terrain. It's always a good idea to have a compass as a backup, along with a whistle or signal mirror for emergencies.

Leave No Trace

Respecting the environment is crucial during camping. Practice Leave No Trace principles, which include disposing of waste properly, minimise campfire impacts, and respecting wildlife. Pack out what you pack in and avoid disturbing natural habitats. By following these principles, you help preserve the beauty of nature for future generations.

Water and Food

Staying hydrated and nourished is essential while camping and hiking. Carry an adequate supply of water, and if necessary, research nearby water sources or purification methods. Pack lightweight and nutritious food that is easy to prepare. Trail mix, energy bars, and dehydrated meals are popular choices. Don't forget to bring a water filter or purifier if you plan to rely on natural water sources.

Safety Precautions

Prioritising safety during a camping trip is crucial. Inform someone about your itinerary and expected return time. Check the weather forecast before setting out and be prepared for sudden changes. Carry a whistle or a personal locator beacon for emergencies. Learn basic first aid skills, including how to treat common outdoor injuries and recognize the symptoms of heat exhaustion, hypothermia, and altitude sickness.

Conclusion

Embarking on a camping hike is an incredible way to connect with nature and create lasting memories. By following these tips and tricks, you can ensure a safe and enjoyable experience. Remember to choose the right location, pack essential gear, navigate wisely, respect the environment, and prioritise safety. With proper preparation and a sense of adventure, your camping will undoubtedly be an unforgettable adventure. So, lace up your hiking boots, breathe in the fresh air, and embrace the wonders of the great outdoors. Happy camping hiking!

[project-digital-communities]

Week 9: body modification

Social media and popular culture have a significant impact on how we live our daily lives in the modern world. They also bombard us with a tonne of manufactured and idealized imagery, though. The increasing accessibility of digital tools that enable photo alteration using filters and software is a major contributor to this lack of authenticity. One suggestion for reversing the detrimental effects of these idealized photos on body image is the introduction of disclaimer labels that alert viewers when a photo has been digitally manipulated (Tiggemann, M 2022. P. 172).

Particularly in Western nations, the incidence of body alterations like tattoos and piercings has increased. As more people adopt these practices, the rising trend of this trend is beginning to plateau (Weiler SM, Tetzlaff B-O, Herzberg PY, Jacobsen T 2021. p. 1).

Body modification techniques including tattoos, piercings, and plastic surgery have all been appropriated by popular culture. These behaviors are closely linked to stories about identity and the importance of the human body (Hogue, T 2007. p.1). The movie "Western Eyes" explores how plastic surgery is portrayed in popular culture by examining the journeys taken by two women as they negotiate the social discourses surrounding this procedure. In contrast to plastic surgery, body piercing and tattooing offer distinctive ways to mark the body. Even if popular culture has appropriated these practices, they continue to be significant as markers of identity and physical expression. While suspension is a more extreme kind of bodily modification, it may actively challenge the dominant narratives that popular culture has imposed. Whatever the case, it is clear that the topic of body alteration is complicated and weaves together debates about identity, the body, and popular culture (Hogue, T 2007. p.2).

A symbol, Barbie represents a "complex and contradictory set of potential meanings that emerge and evolve in a period characterized by the rise of consumer society, intense debates on gender and racial relations, and shifting perceptions of the body" (Urla and Swedlund, 278, p. 3). Barbie is an exaggerated representation of femininity that captures the struggles that women's bodies and femininity encountered in late 20th-century North America (279). This is an illustration of how a product of popular culture like Barbie has a tremendous impact on how bodies are constructed, especially those of women. While plastic surgery may support hegemonic beauty ideals, the reasons for getting it and the discourses surrounding it, like wanting to look like Barbie, are fundamentally flawed.These ideas are problematic because they are based on ideals that are largely, if not completely, out of reach (Hogue, T 2007. p.2).

In conclusion, social media's and popular culture's pervasiveness in our lives has both advantages and disadvantages. These platforms expose us to a constant stream of idealized and edited images even while they provide us with limitless options for interaction and self-expression. The lack of authenticity and realism in the photographs we see is partly due to the widespread use of computer technologies for photo alteration. Disclaimer labels have been suggested as a viable remedy to mitigate the detrimental effects of these idealized depictions on body image. We can foster a greater sense of transparency and support a more realistic perception of beauty by informing viewers when images have been digitally altered.We must keep looking for ways to encourage a good self-image and provide people the tools they need to function authentically and confidently in the digital world.

References

Weiler SM, Tetzlaff B-O, Herzberg PY, Jacobsen T 2021, ‘When personality gets under the skin: Need for uniqueness and body modifications’PLoS ONE 16(3): e0245158. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0245158

Tiggemann, M 2022, ‘Digital modification and body image on social media: Disclaimer labels, captions, hashtags, and comments’,Body Image Volume 41, June 2022, Pages 172-180

Hogue, T 2007,’Body Modification and Popular Culture’,2007: 1st I@Q Conference Proceedings https://qspace.library.queensu.ca/bitstream/handle/1974/1065/Hogue.finalcopy.pdf;sequence=1

#mda20009 #week 9

[duckit7]

Online dating can be hard.

This was someone’s prompt. Tried to find the prompt again but had some troubles. So if this was your prompt here you go!

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

It had been years since I dated. Work kept me busy and was the perfect excuse for me to continue to put off finding someone to settle down with. I always felt like there was a void in my life, but I was pretty good at filling it with work and working out. My last trip traveling Europe though, finally brought me to the realization that I want someone in my life to share all of my experiences with.

That desire for companionship led me to exploring dating sites. That lead me to find Cam. His profile picture was what drew me in. Sure, he was handsome. His lean athletic build, the beard and short hair that gave him a rustic look, and so on made him extremely appealing to the eyes. His beauty wasn’t what made the picture, though. What caught my eye was the joy radiating off him. His smile stretched from ear to ear as his face was covered in marker. In his arms he held a small child who looked to be enjoying themself equally as much.

His other photos as contained his signature smile and the overall sense of happiness. I got the feeling that he was a fun-loving guy who loved to explore life from his profile. There were other guys on the site, but his profile I kept going back to. I wanted to be in the presence of that joy and feel the rays of joy as they radiated off him.

So after dinner one night I finally mustered the courage to message him. Within minutes he messaged me back. That started our back and forth correspondence. He told me that the kid in the picture was his sister’s kid and that one day it would be cool to raise a child. He told me about his aspirations and just some of his hobbies. His personality showed through his messages making me want to meet him more and more.

After a couple of days talking, I finally got the courage to send the message, “Want to meet? I was thinking we could get dinner and chat.”

Within seconds, he replied back, “Yes! I’m so down. How about we meet at the bench across from the water fountain in the park downtown. You know, the one across the street from Joe’s Pizza. 5 o’clock work?”

“It’s a date!” I typed back.

-------

“Wow!” I said out loud as I flopped on my bed, “She is way out of your league Camy boy.” The woman’s face was naturally beautiful. She didn’t seem to wear make up in any of her photos. That was one thing that I liked. One theme radiated through her whole profile, she was unapologetically her.

Most women would have hid their true face, their intelligence, their strength. The other women on the site had used filters and seem to ensure that everything was perfect. Kate did not though. She had pictures of her covered in mud with a fishing pole in hand trekking on a trail to a lake. Another was a picture of her lifting next to one of her running. Both had comically twisted looks of pain. I chuckled at her caption below, “Get to stare at this gorgeous face on occasion.”

Kate seemed like an adventurous soul that was full of sass and humor. Her whole life seemed wild. From her random encounters with possums to her trips to places like Europe, Middle East, South America and South Asia. Kate also was in extremely good shape as well as an airline pilot who knew five other languages. Yep. She was definitely out of my league.

You can see how it came as a shock when she messaged me. I couldn’t contain my giddiness as I practically jumped around my room. She was so easy to talk to. There was never an awkward pause in the conversion. We would usually stop talking when she went to bed and then pick it back up the next day.

I hadn’t even met this girl yet and she was already pulling at my heart as she told me about her adventures and how she wanted to start dating because she found that she was lonely and wanted someone to share her experiences with. She also wanted to find someone who would love her for who she was, faults and all. I could sense her insecurity when she said that. She was such a strong woman, and I knew she wanted to remain that, but deep down I felt like she was also afraid it would turn men away from her. I didn’t tell her, but I was really drawn to her strength. As much as she could feel distant emotionally, I couldn’t help but feel safe with her. It was as though her strength allowed me to be unapologetically me.

I loved our talks but wanted more. I wanted to meet her. As always, though, I was too nervous to ask… To my relief she asked first.

“Want to meet? I was thinking we could get dinner and chat.” She txted me one morning after I got back from a jog.

I had been thinking about where we should meet and go since I started to talk to her so I just let my fingers type furiously as I sent back, “Yes! I’m so down. How about we meet at the bench across from the water fountain in the park downtown. You know, the one across the street from Joe’s Pizza. 5 o’clock work?”

“It’s a date!” she replied.

I couldn’t contain my happiness as I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so hard as I yelled joyously into it.

---------

I showed up super early because I was so nervous about being late. The sun was beginning to set as I looked around the park. It was hard to see at my height so I decided that maybe I should climb a nearby tree to get a better view. Then when I saw Kate coming, I could climb down and meet her.

I thanked the Lord that I got there early because the trek had taken me longer than I thought. Finally, I got up to the branch that overlooked the park bench and right on time. I sat there looking around to try to spot Kate, but no luck.

While I had been climbing a human woman took a seat on a bench next to the tree. I watched her as she sat patiently taking in her surroundings below me. She seemed to be waiting for someone as well. I sat watching her for a few minutes before I decided to speak up and start a conversion with her while I waited. As I went to open my mouth though, my hand slipped off the branch.

A falling sensation engulfed by body as I plummeted towards the earth. I closed my eyes and cursed such a rotten way to go.

--------

I showed up to the park a few minutes early and took a seat on the park bench. It was a nice evening as the soft autumn breeze had a slight chill to it. I took in the whole park as I waited. There were people walking their dogs and couples strolling the surrounding streets.

Time ticked on and soon it was 5 p.m. There was still no sight of Cam. He was probably just running a little late I thought. Nerves started to seep in. With them came the thought that maybe he stood me up. That he wasn’t going to show. That he wasn’t real and I just got catfished.

I took a deep breath to try to clear my mind. Letting a smile grace my lips I thought back to our messages. He is real and he will come I mentally whispered. The silence of the evening sat pleasantly around me as I waited. My thoughts drifting to what I would say and do when I met him.

A small cry that sounded more like a squeak tore me from my thoughts though. I looked up just in time to see a small figure fall from the tree branch above. Instinctively I reached up and softly cushioned their descent. The small man laid in my cupped hands with terror plastered all over his face as he stared up at me.

Parvus beings were a just as common as human beings. I even had Parvus friends. It was rare that I would hold them though. I sucked in a breath as I could feel is small heartbeat racing against my palm. We stared at each other for what seemed like an hour as he tried to collect himself and slow his breath. This gave me time to look him over to make sure he was ok. That’s when it hit me.

“Cam?” I asked hesitantly. Immediately the man in my hands stiffened.

He then looked up to me with complete shock. “K-K-Kate….” He asked cautiously.

I could sense he was terrified. In all honesty I didn’t blame him. If I fell from a tree into some stranger’s hands, I would be terrified too. Stories of humans crushing or hurting Parvuses weren’t uncommon.

I smiled warmly at Cam trying to calm him. The only thing that I cared about right then was trying to make him feel comfortable.

-------

Everything happened so quickly. First I was falling. Then warm hands softly caught me. They may have been gentle with me, but the whole experience was too much for me as I looked up at my captor with terror. At was at this random woman’s mercy. My mind was swimming as I stared at her in fear.

“Cam?” the tone of her voice was comforting and soft as she spoke.

I froze. How did this human know my name? My eyes dashed across her face as I tried to recognize where I knew her from. Then it hit me like a truck.

“K-K-Kate…” my voice was pitifully small as I cautiously spoke. She looked so much like the photos, but the last thing I needed to do was anger a human because I mistook them for someone else. I had some bad run ins with humans in the past and wasn’t too keen on being in the hand of a stranger.

The woman gave me a warm smile. “When I saw 5.4” I thought that was a typo and you meant to put 5 feet 4 inches. Nope, I guess you really are 5.4 inches.” she chuckled softly.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, mentally palming my face for not clicking further to see how tall she was. I snorted a laugh as I tried to smile up at her, “I guess I should have clicked on your height to see how tall you were. Completely passed over that…”

Her whole demeanor was gentle which threw me off. I knew how much power this woman had. I saw the pictures. I also wouldn’t blame her for being peeved that her date ended up being a Parvus. She wasn’t upset in the slightest though.

“So ahhh… Sorry… this is probably a disappointment… You came thinking you were getting a human and ended up with little ol’ me…” I said rubbing the back of my head with my hand and staring down at my hand laying upon hers.

“I wouldn’t say a disappointment. A shock for sure, but not a disappointment. If anything, I feel bad for you! You have a big dumb human looming over you when you thought you were going to get a Parvus.” her voice warm and inviting. She then dropped her gaze to the side as her shoulders slumped slightly, “You probably don’t want to go to dinner anymore and I completely understand. I can put you down or take you home if you want...”

I could sense her slight sadness and that crushed me more than she ever could. Kate was the exact woman that I had expected to meet tonight, just a lot bigger. She had been warm and welcoming, though. Not at one point did I not feel safe. I may have been terrified, but for some reason I didn’t feel in danger. I knew that having a romantic relationship with her was basically out of the question. Some Humans and Parvuses made it work, but she would probably get sick of toting me around as well as there were things I just could not give her.

As crazy as it sounded though, I wanted to go on the date with her still. The more I was around her the more comfortable I became. I wanted to get to know this human better. Even if it was only going to end in a friendship, I wanted to have her in my life right now.

“Hey you big dummy.” I said punching her nearby thumb for good measure. “Just because I may have been a little startled when I first met you doesn’t mean I don’t still want to go to dinner with you!”

Kate looked up at me with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “You sure?” she asked hesitantly, “I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything.”

I waved her off, “I don’t feel pressured at all. I really do want to get to know you better.”

Her happiness was contagious as I couldn’t help but beam up at her.

#g/t #here we go again #online dating probs #wholesome giantess #duck it

[autumnslance]

Was it just me or is corran’s dragon for rathian looking?? Also how did you design Avengret in game?? Cause I see a bunch of people make screenshots for their stuff and I’m here going ‘???? How???’

Short answer: Patience and a little Crime.

Longer Answer: Go under the cut for explanations, like Avengret's body double, Corran's transformed model, and How Lyn (subjects you all to her) Screenshots.

The model I used for Avengret is simply a red dragon at Anyx Trine named Nehsk Fan, using careful Gpose angles, camera zoom, filters, lighting, time of day, and the same Gshade filter I've been using for these headers for consistency (Teddy Gpose for the curious). So actually fairly simple in the manner of "anyone can actually do this and get similar results" (aside from the Gshade).

Image is Aeryn at Anyx Trine with Nehsk Fan, using my simple default gameplay filter in Gshade.

For Corran's look in "Scale" I used CMTools, which takes in game assets and allows one to manipulate them, as well as time and weather. It's how one can use carbuncles, chocobos, and/or most housing retainers to take the form of NPCs, and create custom poses while dressing up in whatever existing clothing items one wants.

Which is how I got this shot with all 4 of my OCs in one room; one I am actually playing, another is a carbuncle, and 2 others are Dark's housing servants, after saving each of my ladies' appearances in the tool. This is also how I get so many shippy shots of Aeryn with Thancred; she's just hanging out somewhere with a carbuncle (while I curse how various joints work as I mess with sliders).

For "Scale" I actually went with the monster menu and stood Dark Autumn somewhere while overwriting her appearance with Rathalos. Anyone else wandering by just saw my femroe idling on a hill, as the change is only visible on my own screen. Then back to the game's Gpose, using zoom, angles, drop lighting, filters, to take multiple shots until I found one I was happy with; I have 7 others in this case that I took and edited but didn't use.

For post-work, I mostly use Picasa 3, a simple photo editor discontinued about 10 years ago but still can be found in places online. I don't do Photoshop, so a simple tool that lets me one click color corrections, lighting balance, and various filters and minor adjustments, as well as cropping, lettering, angling/straightening the pic, works for me.

Image below are just the examples of options I can play with in Picasa 3, many of them adjustable in various ways:

I mostly use Crop, Straighten, I'm Feeling Lucky, Auto Contrast, Auto Color, the Fill Lights/Highlights/Shadows/Color Temp menu, and play around with what filters seem to work for the shot I want. I use "Tint" with the default light blue to "cool down" many of Aeryn's screenshots so she's not super red, depending on what other lighting and colors are happening in the picture. Saturation is good for upping or lowering saturation, especially when using the Bright 4 filter in Gpose.

Knowing how to compose a picture using camera angles, lighting, color, etc, with the in game tools is the most important part; all the extra tools won't do a darn thing to make a good screenshot if you don't learn the basics. Basic photography/art rules apply! The extra tools just make some things easier. I don't think I'm that good at it (I have little sense of composition, lighting, or color; all my best stuff is happy accident!) and I still have a lot to learn, and it does take time and practice. As well as lots of patience and taking dozens of shots to only then end up posting 1 or 2.

My dear friend @healerstail is fantastic at taking screenshots (and photography in general) and has mostly only used basic Gpose and Gshade, only the occasional mod and just recently picked up CMTools. Mostly it's just knowing how to set up the default emotes, timing, and good angles. His composition is amazing. Likewise, @gunbun is very good at lighting and composition, and has been using the new posing tool, Anamnesis (CMT's successor) to excellent affect. She'll tell you to mind your drop lights and camera angles, too

Extra tools only work on PC, so console users have to use only Gpose and defaults, though some do post-work in Photoshop. An excellent example of detailed post-work is @kukurubean's edits.

NOTE: Remember that while Gshade is fine as it's just a filter overlay (and one can get the same results from most graphic card interfaces these days), mods are against the SquareEnix TOS so use your extra tools responsibly; remove the default watermark from screenshots, do not tag official accounts, do not talk about mods in game, put any lewds on locked/private/behind cuts. Do not tease or harass other players with either cosmetic or combat mods.

The FFXIV devs are willing to turn a blind eye and allow player creativity so long as extra tools are used responsibly, not to affect gameplay or bother other players. Yoshida flat out hates DPS meters as people don't tend to use them for personal growth; we have Sky Sea Stone and the metric is "did the boss die and everyone have fun?" Also he has gone on a PLL before and told people to stop lewding younger characters using game assets for legal reasons--right after talking about changing code to break a combat mod used during the TEA world first race (as well as changing how combat markers work in general), making the implications clear.

#Lyn Prompts #Gpose #Gshade #Picasa 3 #Screenshots #Blogging #about me

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 123

It feels really good to be back writing and posting, I’m going to be super honest.  Thank you again, to everyone who reads and leaves notes on these chapters. You keep me going and encourage me more than you will ever know.

This was originally going to be one chapter, but it went really really long and I didn’t have the heart to leave parts out.  Even splitting it in half, each half is longer than most of the chapters so far.  But I couldn’t help showing how far the Ark has come from simply “figuring out how to exist”!  In my defense, @baelpenrose egged me on, too.  Blame him. :P

Shout out to @zommbiebro, @charlylimph-blog, @books-and-cartoons, all the other contributors for characters in this chapter. INCLUDING @werewolf2578 for Michael Smith, who finally makes his debut here. Finally.

As Maverick and I entered the gymnasium - now larger and more finished than it had been when Arthur and Jokul’s showdown happened several years back - the atmosphere was filled with excitement. Three Terran years previous, collapsible bleachers had been constructed shortly after sporting and skill exhibitions had regained popularity on-par with Pre-End times, and today was one such occasion. Every seat was packed, and Miys was working overtime in multiple bodies, strategically positioned to keep the air filtered. Else-chicks swarmed on the floor, eagerly consuming anything that had been spilled or dropped.

Today, Jokul and Arthur were once again on the floor, in full view of the crowd. Instead of a bloody one-on-one, no holds barred fight, however, they were two of twenty participants in a weapons exhibition.  Between them, Charly bounced on the balls of her feet, scanning the audience - a smile here and there when a container of neon popcorn caught her eye, but a huge grin along with extra bouncing and an enthusiastic wave when she saw our small group.  She elbowed Arthur, who was deep in conversation with Tyche and Coffey on his other side.  All three turned to wave.

“Where’s Conor?” Maverick asked, searching the floor carefully.

I shrugged. “He may be on his way, or in another room, stretching. You know he isn’t a huge fan of crowds this large.”

With a huff, he blew a lock of hair out of his face. “I know it’s his first one of these things, but he’ll be fine. He’s gotten really good. Even Charly and Tyche said so.”

Evania Josue took the floor and gestured for silence, indicating that the exhibition was starting. “Thank you, everyone who could be here in person, and everyone watching from other areas of the Ark, and welcome to our second Von-annual ranged weapons exhibition.  As with last time, combustion weapons will not be used in any of our events, for safety reasons.  We will continue with our order from the previous event, and begin with axe-throwing.”

Cheers erupted, and Tyche, Coffey, and Arthur took their seats on the sidelines. Charly, Jokul, and three other less-familiar faces waved to us as they were introduced, before drawing lots for the order they would go in.  One of the people I didn’t recognize went first, and made a pretty good showing - all six axes hit their targets, regularly striking midway to the bullseye from a distance I could barely hit the floor from.  Charly was second, and Maverick clenched my arm tight enough to make me wince - she was the smallest competitor in this event, but the entire crowd went deathly silent as she lined up the first target.

Thunk. Bullseye, and buried deep.

Thunk. Just left of center.

Thunk. Another bullseye.

Three more axes led to one more bullseye and two just to the right of center. The crowd exploded into cheers, only going quiet as the next person stepped forward.  It was another solid execution, but not quite in the same level of skill that Charly had demonstrated.

Jokul was last, and as soon as he stepped forward, you could hear a pin drop. No one even dared breathe, lest they missed out on what they hoped they were about to witness.  Sure enough, Jokul stood three feet to the left of the first table holding an axe, and started walking at a calm pace. Without breaking stride, he would grab an axe and suddenly it would appear in the center of the target. No windup, no careful lining up of his throws, just ten paces, six axes, and six bullseyes.

Screaming erupted from the entire gymnasium, to the point that Miys was covering their sensory organs. Charly was red in her face from cheering, and I honestly could not blame her - it was one of the most impressive things I had seen, and never ceased to amaze me.  Even Arthur was nodding in approval and applauding.

The cheering died down to a murmur of discussion as the athletes took their bows and the equipment was removed. Charly and Jokul both took seats on the sidelines, while the other three left the floor entirely, indicating they had no other events.  The next event was slung projectiles, which neither Maverick nor I was remotely interested in.

He leaned closely so he wouldn’t distract anyone. “So, I’ve been wondering this for a while now… Those axes are pretty heavy, right?”

I nodded.  I had tried throwing them, but they were close to two pounds in Terran gravity - worse in Von-standard, and obviously front-heavy.

“So, to throw them that fast, Jokul has to have a lot of arm strength, right?”

Another nod.

“How did Charly get up after he punched her?”

I sighed. I’d wondered where he was going with this. “First, he pulled the punch. Second, it was an awkward hit because he was aiming for me. Third, with two cracked ribs and a whole lot of ‘Charly’ involved.”

“So necromancy,” Maverick nodded seriously.

“I can neither confirm nor deny, except that she popped up like he hit her with a pillow.” I shook his knee as something caught my eye. “There! There he is!”

Conor was finally visible, crouched and in discussion with Tyche.  From the way he was running his hand through his hair, he was clearly nervous.  She just shook her finger at him with a serious expression, and whatever she said made him laugh and shake his head.  Probably a death threat, I figured.

He was just in time, as the next exhibition was knife-throwing.  I don’t know if Evan was rigging the lots, but once again the most anticipated participant - this time Tyche - was last. Instead, someone I recognized as Michael Smith was first.  Standing from beside Grandma Kim, he gave an emphatic command to the chocolate labradoodle at his feet and took center stage.

The knife throwing event was ten knives, one target, and timed as well as scored by where the knives landed.  I knew from previous events that Michael preferred throwing knives with a hilt, which made the balance off center.  Nonetheless, all his hits were dead-center and solid, even if he telegraphed his throws a bit much for my liking.

Next was Arthur, who made a show of his one-upmanship by finishing faster and with less obvious movement.  He patted Conor on the shoulder and said something to reassure him as Conor stood for his turn.

The crowd started murmuring as Conor turned toward his target, back on full display.  Rather than pulling his knives from his hip, or picking them up from a table, Conor had found it easier for him to actually keep them slung across his shoulders and drew them like arrows.  I had never seen anything like it, but Coffey had suggested it soon after Conor decided to follow mine and Tyche’s footsteps.  And while his display wasn’t the fastest, or the most accurate, he drew some fascinated chatter from the crowd when switched hands after the fifth knife, with no change in speed or precision.

When he finished, there was enthusiastic applause but none louder than our family. Coffey’s voice boomed out, even louder than mine, to congratulate him before they traded places. Once again, there was hushed chatter as Coffey drew over his shoulder, this time trading off hands with every single knife, and breathless applause when he finished with a tighter cluster than Conor had. He smiled, but his eyes were all for Charly, who was next.

The crowd hardly had time to focus before she started letting blades loose. As fast as she could grab one, it was flying behind the last one, covering the bullseye by the time she was done.  With a flourish, she took a bow that left us all laughing and cheering.  She danced over to the sidelines, sweeping one more bow for Tyche to take the floor.

As soon as Tyche stood, the air crackled with excitement. In the same way that everyone watched the axe-throwing to see Jokul, all eyes were on my sister for this event. As though she was utterly oblivious to this fact, she strode to her marker.  She was still mid-stride when she brushed her hair out of her face and let the first knife fly from the same hand.

Bullseye.

Brushing off her legs saw two more knives, one after the other, hitting their marks. Then a dagger from her left hip, a tactical knife from one boot, and on and on. Each blade came from a different spot, no two the same size or shape. All hit their marks, and all without a single indication of exertion.  The only indication that she finished was when she dropped her hands and tilted her head, studying the tight pattern on the target.  My datapad indicated that she had matched Arthur’s time and close strikes.

When she turned to sit back down, everyone’s brains caught up and the expected cheers deafened us again.  As soon as she reached her seat, Arthur and Charly stood by some unspoken agreement and made ridiculous sweeping bows to her, only encouraging the audience to cheer harder.

Evania stepped forward again, to let everyone know that there would be a twenty minute intercession. The next events needed more intensive preparation, which allowed friends and family to take some time to talk with the participants. Sure enough, the second I was in earshot, I could hear Tyche complaining.

“I got much tighter patterns than that in practice,” she moaned.

Conor, head resting on both hands, shook his head in disbelief. “If you think you were bad, I feel I’m hopeless.”

That had the exact reaction everyone saw coming, as she whirled around in righteous fury. “Conor MacMaoilir-Reid-Okima, I have been throwing any knife I could get my grubby paws on since I was four. You started three years ago. I taught you, Sophia taught you, Coffey taught you. Your throwing has an exceptional pedigree and if I hear you talk about giving up, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Let me use you for target practice,” Arthur intoned, half-joking.

“No!” she insisted. “I’ll let Simon use you for target practice!”

“I’d be safe as houses, if he was aiming for me. Poor guy couldn’t hit the floor with a knife if he dropped it.”

“She never said with knives,” I added wickedly, causing his head to snap up and his face to pale.

“Sophie. Please, that’s cruel.”

I waved him off. “Oh, as if he would ever actually aim for you.  If Simon had to hunt for his food, he’d be a vegetarian, I swear.”

Rolling his eyes, Maverick stepped into the fray. “Conor, you did really well. You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. And it’s not like this is a competition, you were literally invited to just show off what you can do.”

“I still don’t know why… Coff over there clearly did better.”

A dazzling smile flashed as Coffey turned from his conversation with Charly. “Ah, but we are the only two who use that technique! Showing it off here means others may be interested in learning later.”

Hair flew as Charly nodded. “And besides, I could never get the hang of pulling a knife like that. My brain says ‘arrow’, and it’s just confusing.”

I was nodding in agreement and gesturing for Maverick to take Arthur’s seat, when something wet nudged my ankle.

“Sparkles. Heel.”

I turned to see Michael Smith and Grandma Kim had joined us. Unable to resist, I knelt to pet the dogs that accompanied them. “GK, Lyric II is looking more and more like her mom every day.” A muzzle streaked with white fur poked my hand. “Hey there, girl,” I whispered, blinking hard. Lyric was already ten when we were all brought to the Ark, and Hujylsogox medicine could only do so much for dogs.  Permission had been given for her to have one pup, to be trained as both a service and a protection animal, in preparation.

Michael’s animal looked to him for permission before joining in the ear scratches I was dishing out. He was one of the very few certified service animal trainers on the Ark, so when Lyric II was born, so was Sparkles, with the intention that they grow up and train as a working team. Michael’s past was extremely blank and sketchy, but something about him reminded me of both Arthur and Xiomara.  The fact that both of them respected him made me both at ease and suspicious at the same time.

I pushed that out of my mind and focused on the pile of fur before me, begging for belly rubs. “What events are left?”

“The security animal events have been added to this one, to allow time for the other participants to rest more, and then archery, spear/javelin, and thrown projectiles.”

I shook my head at ‘thrown projectiles’, but Charly was the one to speak. “I can’t believe we made a sport out of rock throwing.” When mouths started to open to correct her, she held up both hands and glared. “I mean ‘we’ like ‘people’, not ‘we’ like ‘the Ark’. I am well aware that humans have been killing things by throwing rocks forever. Don’t shoot me.”

“That’s a different exhibition,” Maverick pointed out, eliciting a groan from several people. “What!? It is!”

“I think she would beg to differ.” Tyche pointed to Charly, who looked like she was about to explode.

“Oh, right. Archery - “

“You are IN that event, how could you forget!?” she finally erupted, more out of confusion than anything resembling anger.

“I learned firearms first?” he begged.

Charly grunted and scrunched her face. “Fine. I can accept that as a semi-reasonable excuse.”

I shook my head at their antics.  Despite years of watching the two goof around, it was always adorable to watch men twice her size cower from the feisty ball of energy.

She was still teasing him. “I still think you owe me an apology.”

“Charly, I’m sorry,” he sighed with no real sincerity behind it.

“Mmmm, not good enough.” She tapped her chin with her finger and took out an eye-scorchingly yellow candy bar - which, by now I knew was just chocolate and caramel, but was still cringeworthy to watch. “I think…. You should make me dumplings.”

“Those take forever,” he whined, kneeling and clasping his hands. “You always want them from scratch.”

“They taste better from scratch,” she pointed out around a bite of her snack.

Tyche nodded. “They really do.”

And there it was. He was defeated, as our entire family stared at him in anticipation. With a heavy air, he hung his head. “Fine,” came the mumbled reply. “What kind?”

Quiet cheers sounded, along with fist bumps and in one case money exchanging hands. “Chicken and veg, pork and veg, and seafood,” Charly cackled.

I was pretty sure I was the only one who could hear Maverick mutter “I just got so played…”

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans will try anything #humans are space orcs #weapons #skill #service animals #found family #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #science fiction #sci fi #scifi #original science fiction #original sci fi #hfy

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//catching cooties. sugawara koushi//

Warnings: Mild swearing.  Time-skip!Sugawara, so small spoiler warning

Word Count: 1.75K

Notes: I have so many requests to fill, but also Koushi hit me hard in the face with a book and said, “Love me.”  Who was I to refuse?  Koushi with kids?  Y E S 

Wallet.  Phone.  Keys.  Bag.  Coffee.  

It was a routine at this point.  Sugawara never left the house in the morning without those five things and it had been that way for almost four years.  He would tuck his wallet in his back pocket of his pants and his phone in the front.  The lanyard with all of his keys hung around his neck so he could back his bag for the day, sliding in folders of graded work, his book of lesson plans, his planner, anything he might have brought home to finish working on.  He would place a kiss on your cheek, your nose, then your lips before taking his thermos from you, a tired “I love you” taking the place of words of thanks.  

This shouldn’t have thrown him off as much as it did.  You had the day off and decided to sleep in rather than wake up with his alarm like you usually would, but after so long of getting ready in the bathroom together, laughing over toaster-waffles, and gentle good-bye kisses, not having you awake to start his morning really messed up his routine.  You weren’t peppering his face with kisses, trying to get him awake and when he would have inevitably rolled over, begging, “Five more minutes, please,” you didn’t lay on top of him and poke his cheeks until his eyes finally blinked open, that low groan leaving his lips as the morning sun filtered in through the blinds.  

The loud ringing of his alarm at 5:30 had you shoving your head under a pillow while your husband desperately reached around for the snooze button.  But, it seemed like hours had passed since then and yet, you and Koushi were still snuggled together under the warmth of the comforter.  Your eyelids lifted heavily, reaching for your phone on the nightstand.

Those small numbers on the screen had you sitting up straight in a matter of milliseconds, a hand on your husband's shoulder, desperately shaking him awake.  “Koushi, you need to get up.”

But, instead of heeding your words, he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, trying to nuzzle his face into your body.  Sugawara Koushi was lost to the world, sleeping like an absolute log, not like that was anything new to you. 

“Baby, it’s quarter after 7,” you say firmly, prying his hands off of you.  On a normal morning, he’d be getting ready to leave.  He’d be standing at the kitchen island, humming to himself while he packed his bag, but instead, here he was, still fast asleep.

But, oh, did the sound of that seven have his eyes opening at an alarming rate.  Sugawara reached for his phone, praying that maybe you were lying to him, that maybe this was just some kind of prank to get him up, but that ‘7:17’ was too real to ignore.  He threw the covers off, a frustrated “Shit!” being the only good morning exchanged.  You can’t remember the last time that you had seen him move so fast.  In less than five minutes, he was buttoning his shirt, jumping around the bedroom as if that would get his pants on any faster, a black belt being threaded through the loops and the light jingle of the buckle adding to the frantic atmosphere of the morning.  

Koushi fumbled around, opening and closing drawers, a pair of socks in his hand, but the stress never left his eyes.  “Where the hell did I put it?  Not in the bathroom.  Not on the nightstand,” he mutters under his breath, eyes scanning every possible surface in the room.  

“What are you looking for, Kou?”

“Have you seen my watch?”

“I think you put it on the coffee table last night.  I’ll go see,” you say, starting to get out of bed, but a pair of hands is pushing you back down to the mattress.

“No, you don’t have to work today.  You should relax, sweetheart.  Don’t worry about me.”  Even amidst all his panic, Sugawara Koushi still continued to be the loving man that had your heart fluttering all of those years ago.  The gentle tone to his voice and the soft kiss that he planted on your forehead was all it took to get you to lay back down, adhering to his wishes. 

It was nearly 7:45 before you heard the familiar checklist leaving your husband’s lips.  “Wallet.  Phone.  Keys.  Bag.  Coffee.”  He did the signature pat of each item, nodding as everything he needed was accounted for.  “Are we still getting lunch?” He asks, a hopeful smile on his face as he looks at you in the mirror, checking his appearance one final time.

“The noodle place on Sixth, right?”

“They have the best udon.  You’re going to love it!  I can meet you at noon, okay?”  Sugawara leans down to place his routine kisses to your face, each small peck leaving your head feeling fuzzy from his tender touches.

The sound of the door closing behind him should’ve been the end to the chaos.  You should have been able to rest your eyes for a few more hours and then go about enjoying your lazy day.  But, alas, it seemed like you had only just closed your eyes and your phone was already playing that familiar tone to signal Koushi’s incoming call.  “What’s up, Kou?” 

He must’ve heard the exhaustion laced in those few syllables, because you could almost see the sadness in his eyes from the sorrowful tone.  “I woke you up, didn’t I?  I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“You’re okay, baby.  What’s going on?  Is something wrong?”

“Well, kind of?  Hikari, give Ryouta the cap to his marker back, please,” he states, the sharp contrast in the voice that he used with you and his ‘teacher's voice’ coming through as he switched from addressing you to his students.  “Sorry about that.  Anyway, in all of the commotion this morning, I think I forgot my grade book.  Which wouldn’t be a big deal most days, but the end of the quarter is coming up and I’m already behind and-”

“I’ll be there soon, Koushi.”

He breathes a sigh of relief.  “What would I do without you,” he says, the traces of his smile filtering into your ear.

“Not get your grade book, that’s for sure,” you laugh, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed.  “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Okay.  Thank you, sweetheart.  It should be in the kitchen.  If not, check the dining room.  I would love to chat with you more, but I’m pretty sure the principal just walked by my door and saw me on my phone . . . So, I’m going to let you go, but I love you!”

“I love you too, Koushi.  I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

“Okay, thank you again, seriously,” he says quietly, waiting for you to hum your response before he ends the call, sliding his phone back into his desk drawer.  

Sugawara’s fingers laced through his hair as he leaned back in his chair.  He couldn’t remember the last time that he had had a day that was this out of sorts.  It seemed like everything that could go wrong, did.  As if almost being late wasn’t enough, he had spilled his coffee on his way to work, a brown stain would be exposed on the cuff of his white shirt if he hadn’t rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.  He had misplaced his lesson plans with all of his worksheets, a good explanation as to why his students had spent most of the morning doing arts and crafts rather than practicing sight words and their basic math skills.  But, nonetheless, Mr. Sunshine himself never let his smile fade, keeping his energy up to give his students the best day possible.  

The way his smile relaxed in relief at the sound of a knock on his classroom door was indescribable.  It was like a wave of comfort had washed over him knowing that you were right there just a few feet away.   There was a curious hush that fell over his students as they all turned their heads towards the door, markers and coloring pages now forgotten at the exciting prospect of a visitor.  Had Mr. Sugawara planned a surprise party for them?  Was one of them being called to the office to be picked up?  But, you can imagine their shocked faces when the door was swung open to reveal some random person that they had never seen before.  

Koushi, nonetheless, enveloped you in a tight hug, whispering gentle words of thanks against your skin over and over again as he took his grade book from your hands.  The feeling of your body melding perfectly against his, just as it always had, had him melting against you, desperate for the comforting feeling of your hands tangling in his hair or running up and down his arms, but he was at work.  He couldn’t relish in the sensation of your touch no matter how much he wanted to.

“Mr. Suga, sir?” One of his students piped up causing their teacher to pull away, that normal wide smile on his face.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Do you hug everyone who comes to your door?”

Sugawara laughed lightly as he shook his head.  He reached down to take your hand, his thumb tracing along the back of your knuckles.  The light tap of his fingers against the back of your hand in a silent, “I love you” made a small smile rise to your lips.  “I don’t usually hug people when I answer the door, but this is my wife, so I thought I would make an exception.”

Another student raised their hand, speaking only when Sugawara called their name.  “What’s a wife?”

“Well, it’s what people call the girl that you marry.”

“What if you marry a boy?”

“Then they’re called a ‘husband.’   So, Y/N is my wife and I’m her husband.  Does that make sense?”

“But, don’t girls have cooties?”  A little boy called out, scrunching up his features in disgust at the thought of getting anywhere near a girl.  

Koushi grings gently in your direction, bumping his shoulder playfully against yours.  “Some girls are just worth catching cooties for.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara #suga #sugawara koushi #koushi #imagine #x reader #fluff #idk i feel like i usually have more tags? #but i can't remember any of them for some reason? #timeskip!sugawara

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Armor.”

A ton of changes have been going on at my college right now. So sorry for not getting this out at a good time. This is all my brain wanted to right today, because I am kind of out of it right now. but I hope you still like it. 

I was standing in the warm morning sun. It beat down onto my back as I stood, feet cool against the damp moss. A soft breeze whipped at my bare chest and stirred around the hair on my face and jaw.

I lean against the spear staring out over the horizon eyes narrowed as I attempted to spot any incoming hostiles.

The more northern clans had been encroaching on our territory lately, and our Sentinel said they were likely to mount a full scale attack within the next few lunar cycles. I tended to believe him. 

The thought makes me very worried, for one giant primary reason.

I am a human and these guys are Drev.

IF you don’t know what drev are you probably living under a rock but just to refresh your memories. Six limb 7-10 foot tall monstrosities with a glorious history of cultural combat practices. Humans: 5-7 foot tall monstrosities with a history of trying to avoid glorious combat whenever possible in lieu of chucking explosives at each other over long distances.

Yeah, those guys.

But about six months ago I had taken a trip to Anum to get my head back on straight. The war with the Burg had brought up some…. Deep personal problems I wasn’t aware I still had one of the primary ones being that I hadn’t yet gotten over what happened during Operation Steel eye, when the UNSC welded an exoskeleton to my spine and then shot me full of opiates and amphetamines

But that was a long time ago.

Still, the memories were sharp. I thought not thinking about them would solve my problems, but it turned out it just bottled them up to deal with at a later date.

So I had stepped away from the situation, taken civilian transport to Anum, the place where it had all gone down, and integrated myself into one of the Drev clans fully on their side this time.

I had left a lot of friends and family behind. I had left my crew behind, but I knew that this was something that I needed to do before returning, before actually getting back to myself.

Yeah, yeah I get that it sounds like some kind of new age bullshit, but I guess whatever works.

And damn was it working.

Maybe if it wasn’t going to work for my mental issues it would definitely work for any physical ones I had. 

I haven't been in this good a shape ever.

Probably look the best I ever have minus the bad haircut and short scruffy beard.

Hair which was still dyed green by the way.

I sense him coming before I see him, moving up from the rocks at my back. He isn’t trying to hide himself, but Drev are kind of like that in a way. They are quieter than they might first appear.

I still keep my eyes on the horizon.

“Jastish stadik?”

“je. “

He wants to know if I have seen anything, but I haven’t.”

“Juhkee zhe tsak tatal tanantahik.”

I stepped down and out of his way as he took my spot on guard duty.

“Ts Zhin.” I say holding up a hand in goodbye and turning back towards the village leaving him to stare out at the rising sun.

I take the shortcut, cutting down a shallow gully, leaping from rock to rock my feet sure against the stone and moss. Another chill wind blows past me causing an eruption of goosebumps over my back and torso. I glance over towards the mountains which have been more active as of late. The dark season is on its way, and I know that my time here is growing short.

I approach the edge of the village stopping when I see a familiar figure crouched over the moss plucking bulb fruit from where it grows in the fertile, volcanic soil.

I pull to a stop beside her old wizened form, “Nak.” I say 

Hijan looks up at me her warm honey eyes scrunching in a sort of smile. She likes it when I call her that.

“Tsata.” she beckons me forward, and I kneel on the moss next to her reaching out to pluck one of the ripe fruits.

She ignores the fruit taking my face in her hands to examine me turning my head this way and that.

She plays with my hair eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction. She rubs the stubble on the side of my face.

“Etatan.” furry 

I smile, “Yid zhe rekazi.” I know.

I don’t even bother trying to pill away from her hands as she tries to fix my hair. I have tried to keep it short, but cutting your hair with a hunting knife is never an advised practice, and even I know I have done a questionable job. Hijan has been doing it for me, but its not like she went to cosmetic school.

I look like a caveman.

Aside from the colorful hair, nails.

She brushes my hair back looking at me in a contemplative manner of some kind, “zhe tsajat tsa dadik.”  She finally says motioning me to follow her. 

She wants to show me something.

Curious, I stand and follow after her my feet passing over sun warmed rock. The sun is up now, and one of their moons hangs just above and to the right. 

We head towards her little cottage at the side of the village greeting others as we walk through the town. I can already hear the sound of the morning drills. 

One of the Drev officers nods to us from where he sits by his cottage. In his arms he holds a tiny bundle.

I've seen Latinar’s newborn, she's super cute, and he even let me hold her.

That interesting thing about Drev society. Once the kits are born, the father is the primary caretaker while the mother goes off to war. I mean this is primarily because the males are the only ones that can feed the kits. Ha ha they have pit nipples.

Yeah, you heard me right, Under either of their lower  pair of arms.

They have two even though twins for Drev are extremely rare, like stupid rare.

When the kit finally reaches its first lunar marker, the father will have the opportunity to name the kid.

He told me he’s thinking about naming her Ralata.

So he’s pretty much naming his kid dirt, but I suppose our connotations of dirt and their connotations of dirt are much different. He fades into the background as we reach Hijan’s cottage, and we step inside.

The moss covering the roof is mostly turquoise, so the light that filters down is almost blue. When it does, I am surprised to see a set of armor pieces resting against the ground glittering in the blue light.

I look at her, confused, “Nin tin?’” What is this?

She takes a hand and nudges me forward.

“Zhe teeya tsa nak chazi.” I made it for you 

Hesitantly, I walk over and kneel next to the pieces. 

Armor

Beautifully made armor.

Wide-eyed, I run my hands over the warm metal pieces. This is like nothing I have ever seen before. Like No Drev or human armor. Drev armor. This armor has straps: which most Drev armor doesn’t, but it is like no human armor in the way that it is designed and crafted

“Tsa sdarat nak zhegingish?”

I turn to look at her, “Well of course I want to try it!”

In my excitement I forget which language we are speaking, but she seems to understand, and is very happy with my enthusiasm.

She moves forward and shows me how to put all the pieces together. It is a very complicated system, and I am reminded that, like Sunny, hijan was originally trained as an engineer. The lower pieces buckle on, but the upper pieces slide into each other.

And there are a lot of pieces which interlock over each other thickest around my chest and shoulders. Some for my thighs and arms and shins. She even made gloves for my hands, which is kind of crazy considering Drev don’t use gloves.

I shift in place testing the armor.

It’s heavy, but not as heavy as I thought it should be.

I was getting a bit of a medieval feel, though in a way more badass way.

She stand sbefore me looking very pleased with herself.

“Wow.” I mutter

She holds up the last peace smiling, and I lower my head, so she can place on the helmet. 

When it’s all done, I look up at her, and I can see the pride in her eyes.

“Tsa cheekish.”

“Yid nezanin.” Of course, of course a thousand times of course I like it.

She beams with pleasure.

“Tsa Daklan!” You’re Amazing 

“Zhe rekazi.” I know

I laugh and after a second of thought, I hug her. She’s much taller than me, so I am pretty much hugging her waist like a child. She steps back a bit in surprise, but then seems happy wrapping all four of her arms around me.

Our moment is ruined almost immediately as the alarm is raised, and we break apart.

She points me towards the door, “Ajish.”

“J tsa.”

“Ajish! Zhe tahaji.”

Folowing her orders, I turn on my heels and run from the hut, the armor clinking around my body. It’s harder to run in this, but I am in good shape.

Outside, everyone is scrambling to assemble themselves together. I meet with a column of warriors as they race towards the side of the village.

They look at me with questions on their faces, but then turn their focus back to the matter at hand.

I follow after.

Orders are shouted, and we are directed into groups, battle pairs forming up. I wave the officers on, but one still stops to look at me, “Kayad tsa daeen tadish.” Should you be here

The question isn’t rude. In fact, he seems worried, but I wave him off, “zhe yahan!”

He looks skeptical but runs off.

A moment later a shadow darkens my back, and  I turn to see Hijan pull up next to me.wearing her armor.

She nods and I nod back.

My palms are sweating so bad.

I grip my spear more tightly 

I can hear shouting in the distance as our group begins to march. It gets louder and louder as we break into a light jog, and then a full sprint. We crest the hill…. To look down on a battlefield. 

[august-unhinged]

Routine

Setting: modern day, unspecified Alpine university town Genre & tone: some kind of evil unhealthy romance-porn. Tone is light with dark undertones, and ditches the light halfway in. Themes: desperate approval-seeking, power imbalance, student/professor, established relationship Content: transmasc main character, m/m Kinks: servitude, rope bondage, forced orgasms, noncon, forced anal sex, praise and degradation, sadism/emotional sadism, masochism/emotional masochism, forced cheating Content warnings: Noncon. Painful sex. Unsafe kink practices. Power imbalance. Manipulative/abusive relationship. Trans person as the victim, cis men as the enactors of violence.

Word count is ~10k, there’s 3k words of setup. If you want to skip straight to the porn, scroll until you see the paragraph starting in bold.

Killian’s alarm rings every morning at seven. It rings, and he hates it with every fibre of his being for a moment before he comes to and realises where he is. It really is a blessing, he reminds himself every morning. Killian wakes up on a cramped campbed that ruins his posture, simultaneously cold and sweaty on the mornings when the mountain chill threatens at the window panes, and feels nothing but gratitude for his surroundings. The pale beauty of the alpine city sprawling below them is breathtaking, but it’s the house he’s in that really gives him pause. Because he wakes in Felix’s office. On a roll-out mattress behind the Professor’s desk. At the feet of his master, even unconscious.

He has this thought process in the time it takes for him to reach over and turn off his alarm. It used to take him ten minutes to snap out of the daze - but he quickly learned that Felix doesn’t tolerate daydreaming. Killian mutters the Lord’s Prayer as he pulls on his slippers; he’s grateful for rising another morning and for where he’s risen. He pads softly into the kitchen, floorboards becoming tile under his feet as he steps into the day’s routine.

Today is slightly different, though. Killian’s heart’s trilling in his chest, resistant to his efforts to not get his hopes up again. The past couple of months had been a litany of scattered anniversaries. There was the first time Killian had been to one of Felix’s parties, the first time Felix had read one of Killian’s papers (and said it was ‘fine’!), the first time they sat and smoked and got unreasonably high until dawn broke the clouds while Killian listened adoringly to Felix’s every word. None of these were tangible, though - hardly an accepted marker of the progression of a relationship, either. But a year ago today was when Felix casually handed Killian a key to his apartment alongside a vague explanation that it would just be easier for Killian to be able to come and go as he pleased, rather than having to interrupt Felix’s day whenever he needed something. It was an offhanded exchange that still made Killian’s heart flutter for weeks after. He is hyper-aware of the gift in his possession at all times. No matter where he keeps the key it seems to burn through layers of fabric, the cool metal branding his skin in a hopeless reminder that Killian belongs.

He sets the water to boil and sits at the counter to go through Felix’s diary. Chapter review at 11 - a pushback of a pushback, but Killian is still bracing himself for an early morning announcement that Felix has something far more important to do. Donors’ lunch at 1pm, where Killian will be ever-presently taking notes. And lectures in the afternoon. Killian always memorises Felix’s diary a week in advance but looking at it with the kettle quietly rumbling in the background always frames his day with a sense of purpose. He pencils in some notes under the donor’s lunch - names and how to remember them, jokes not to make so they’ll still give us lots of money - Felix can’t possibly be expected to remember it all. Killian puts the diary on the left of the breakfast tray so Felix can read it while he eats, fills a glass with orange juice so it won’t be too cold to drink by the time he brings it through. The kettle’s finished boiling and he fills the cafetière - a spoonful and a half of the good stuff, which sits on the shelf in front of Killian’s instant. He drops two slices of granary in the toaster and hunts for a knife.

Routine.

He thrives on it.

That being said, he’s changing it up a little today - as the coffee steeps, he steams the milk in an attempt to recreate something he saw in one of the local coffee shops Felix hates but Killian secretly enjoys. He’s in his own head, dancing to an imperceptible tune, trying to figure out how to pour it right to get the shape on top of the coffee-

And the toast pops up. Killian jumps, spilling the milk on the counter, the floor, and himself. ‘Fuck.’ The cup now contains nondescript beige liquid and a smattering of foam - it’s hopeless to begin to contemplate starting another, because Killian always times breakfast perfectly to-

Felix’s alarm starts ringing insistently, and with a heavy sigh Killian marmalades the toast, piles everything onto the tray slightly more haphazardly than usual, and brings it to Felix.

Killian misses when he could watch Felix at peace. By the time Felix is awake and Killian comes to greet him, the Professor’s face has already settled into the practiced disdain that morning brings him. ‘Morning,’ Killian calls as he opens the door with his elbow, doing his quick inhale-and-hold-it in case there’s a pretty twink in Felix’s bed.

There’s not. And breathe.

Killian sets the tray down on the bedside table and stays silent, waiting. Felix appraises the tray with a cool gaze.

‘Killian,’ he says, with enough leeway in his tone for Killian’s heart to begin pounding. ‘You know I take my first coffee of the morning black.’ He’s reproachful, less sympathetic and more pitying.

‘Quite right, Professor,’ come the automatic words as Killian picks up the cup and returns to the kitchen to start the whole tedious process again. Even tediousness has a special significance here, though. Everything Killian does, he does it for Felix.

Killian has felt even more in a daze than usual today. By the time he gets back to Felix’s place, he’s frustrated with himself. He made a fool out of himself in the chapter review, nodding along but not really listening, which became apparent after one particularly unforgiving stretch of silence where Killian was supposed to be talking. ‘We may as well leave it there, then,’ Felix had said, his tone final. They broke half an hour early.

Killian doesn’t want to go home. The simplicity of the phrase is enough to make him stop in his tracks halfway up the cobbled hill to the apartment. When did it become ‘home’? It technically isn’t - Killian still pays rent to a student-sized cardboard box twenty minutes from campus, where he returns in shifts to wash his clothes and pick up mail. But he hasn’t spent a night there since Felix gave him the key a year ago. It feels alien to sleep alone in his flat, surrounded neither by the familiar leather-and-papers scent of Felix’s office, nor the comforting knowledge that Professor is breathing quietly in the next room. The idea that he’s still sleeping in the old flat and that this was all a terrible fever dream wakes Killian up at least once a week. Killian shakes his head fiercely, as though to shake all unwanted thoughts out of his brain. He’s being ungrateful. If he’s reluctant to go to Felix’s because he’s made a tit of himself, well… he shouldn’t have made a tit of himself. He shrugs. Simple enough. Killian continues up the hill and ignores the part inside him that implores him to turn away.

It’s dark by the time Killian unlocks the door - on his walk there the streetlamps were just beginning to flicker on, breaking the dusky early-evening monotone. To his surprise, when he gets there, lights are on in the apartment. He had been expecting to be alone this evening. It’s useless to try and quash the hope that Felix has remembered, that he’s planned something, so Killian reluctantly allows himself to foster the damaging expectation that Felix would ever consider the relationship worth commemorating.

‘Hello?’ Killian calls towards the bedroom light, uncertain. The door opens and Felix steps out. He’s still in the suit he’d been wearing at work but his hair, usually tightly pushed back, is now falling in front of his face and his glasses are tucked into his jacket pocket. With the warm glow of the soft bedroom lighting behind him, filtering through the salt-and-pepper strands around his head and bringing out the warm hazel in his eyes, he looks divinely formed.

‘You’re back earlier than anticipated,’ Felix replies disapprovingly.

‘I could say the same about you,’ Killian says, attempting to be jovial. He drops his satchel by the door and bends to untie his laces.

‘I was hoping you’d spend the evening going over what we discussed earlier today.’ Killian worries at his lip.

‘I did this afternoon, Felix. It just took less time than I expected.’

‘Ah. Possibly because you spent our meeting daydreaming?’

Killian might be a silly romantic, but it gives him butterflies when Felix uses the first person plural when it’s just them in the room. It makes Killian feel like he’s a part of something worthwhile. Something bigger. ‘You’re doing it again.’

‘I’m sorry, Felix,’ Killian sighs. ‘I’m having an off day.’

‘Well, you won’t be able to afford that luxury in the future, Killian. So I suppose it’s best you have your “off days” now.’

This is Felix telling Killian he’s forgiven. He’s crossing to the kitchen now, busying himself with something Killian can’t figure out. There are cupboards that are functionally Killian’s to use, and Felix is inexplicably looking in them. ‘There’s marking on the desk, by the way. I need it before noon tomorrow.’ Killian grimaces internally.

‘Right - do you mind if I start later? I need to eat. Sorry.’ In the bustle of the donor’s lunch and the ever-present need for notetaking, he’d completely forgotten to eat and was now uncomfortably ravenous.

Felix tuts impatiently, as though at a slow child. ‘I’m cooking tonight, Killian. You have thirty-three papers to mark. Off you go.’

‘Oh. Right, okay. Yeah, I’ll just go and… do that.’ Killian hides the surprise in his voice as he answers but allows the confusion to stay on his face. It’s not that Felix can’t cook, it’s just that he has at least two meals out a week anyway, and it’s easier to delegate now Killian lives with him. Killian’s heart is fluttering again. He leaves the office door open a crack and crosses to the record player in the corner before he starts working on the papers. Well-practiced, he squats in front of the vinyl cabinet below the record player and slides out the fifth from the left - a jazz recording, one of Felix’s favourites. Reverently, he lifts the lid on the record player and sets the album A-side up, gently placing the needle onto the record’s outermost rim. The volume is already at the perfect setting for Felix to have it as background music, and Killian holds his breath.

No complaints from the kitchen.

For the first time that day, he allows himself to smile.

Dinner is gnocchi, brown butter, and sage. Killian scarfs it down, utterly and blissfully unaware of himself until the moment he drops his fork onto the plate and Felix clears his throat. For reference, Felix is less than a third of the way through his plate by this point. ‘Keeping your head firmly in the clouds is hungry work, I see,’ Felix gently mocks, and Killian laughs - breathy and embarrassing.

‘Hah, yeah, funny how that is, isn’t it,’ are all the words that tumble from his mouth before he reminds himself how to keep it shut. ‘How was your day?’

‘The lunch was frightfully tedious - it’s a constant source of horror to me that I must attend lunch after lunch to explain why the arts are worth funding ad nauseam. They’re trying to frame knowledge as a business, Killian, through the structures of client and customer and value for money - it’s reprehensible. To be frank, anyone who requires an explanation as to why the pursuit of knowledge is man’s only truly selfless act is not someone with whom I would engage anywhere other than a business lunch. Hopefully they won’t bother us for at least another year.’

Killian has been nodding furiously along the entire time - there’s just something about hearing Felix talk, in memorising every modulation in pitch and tone, that’s more relaxing to Killian than almost anything else in the world. ‘Write that down, by the way.’

‘About the pursuit of knowledge?’

‘That’s the one. Good boy.’ Felix always says these things so casually, like he doesn’t know what it does to Killian - namely, his mouth gets dry, his heart starts pounding, and a powerful ripple of heat shocks through his body. Felix is carrying on like he doesn’t know or care, though. He’s looking across at Killian’s notebook - full to bursting with Felix’s wit and opinions. ‘I am rather astute, aren’t I,’ Felix muses aloud - more to himself than Killian, really.

‘You really are, Professor,’ Killian murmurs, awestruck. He’s noting down what Felix has said in a half-daze.

‘Is that blue ink, Killian?’ Felix asks sharply, and Killian’s face contorts very briefly into a frown.

‘It is. I’m sorry, I can’t find my black pen for the life of me.’

‘Blue ink is for degenerates,’ Felix sighs, fixing Killian with a particularly withering look. But we are degenerates. Killian bites back the reply, hoping Felix can’t make out the defiance in his eyes. ‘You’d best carry on with your marking,’ Felix says pointedly, and Killian understands. He’s been dismissed.

By the time Killian emerges from the office it’s gone ten and his brain is exhausted. He’s done just under half the essays - more thoroughly than he needed to, probably - only relenting when his eyes started losing focus. Killian knows he’s tired when it takes him five minutes to piece together one sentence from the sea of quoted Greek and tiny little numbers, and is grateful that he’s forced himself to stop. As he stands to head through to the kitchen, he’s faintly aware of his head spinning, of every bone in his body grumbling. But beneath that, there’s an uncomfortable tension - a pulling together of muscles, a rush of connection at each synapse. His mind might be tired, but his body is very much awake.

He lets his breath out in an angry little huff and decides to have a bath, hoping to soak out of his skin any intention of not falling straight to sleep. The coldness of the kitchen tile radiates through his socks, grounding him to the present despite the discomfort as he gets ready to soak. Pre-bath rituals complete with some green tea now steeping in his favourite mug, he heads to the bathroom. There’s a window by the bath that overlooks the capital, high up enough that Killian can bathe without accidentally causing indecent exposure. He loves looking down at the city while wrapped in silky bathwater, dreaming about the thousands of lives bustling in the streets below.

Killian’s so wrapped up in himself, taking his time getting the water temperature right before putting the plug in, finding his favourite lavender bubble bath, that he doesn’t notice Felix’s presence until the Professor knocks on the bathroom door. Killian nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping the lavender bottle in the bath in the process. ‘Oh, shit.’ He laments.

‘...Are you quite alright in there?’

‘Yeah,’ Killian responds as he hurries to unlock the door, wiping wet hands on his shirt. He turns away from Felix once the Professor’s been let in, immediately dropping to the floor to mop up the splashed water with the bath mat.‘Yeah, I was just gonna grab a bath, then I dropped the bottle in and the lid’s still on but the water went everywhere, so right now I just need to-‘

‘You’ve been very clumsy today, haven’t you, Killian?’ Felix interrupts. It’s not really a question. Killian’s frantic movements slow, stutter, then halt entirely. He knows the tone and he nods, still kneeling, eyes on the slowly filling bath. ‘First the coffee, now this.’ Killian holds his breath as Felix sits on the edge of the bath and - after a moment that feels eternal - tangles his hand in Killian’s hair. Felix’s hand settles there, fingers pressing comfortingly against Killian’s scalp, and he can’t help but whine and lean into the touch. ‘What are we going to do with you?’ Felix murmurs. Again, not really a question. Felix already knows exactly what he’s going to do. He just knows how to tease Killian, press his buttons, work him up with anticipation. ‘Shower, and then join me in bed.’ Felix decides. Killian can’t help but find the affectionate tone under the imperative (or at least, he believes it’s there, and that makes it true enough for him). ‘I have a surprise for you. Tonight is a special occasion, after all.’ Felix gives Killian’s hair a short, sharp tug - a nonverbal reminder to hurry up - and leaves.

Killian whines helplessly again, all thumbs as he reaches into the bath to drain the water, heart thudding exponentially faster while he contemplates what Felix could possibly have for him. He can’t help but ponder the implication - that Felix has remembered, that he wants to show Killian he cares. His knees weaken under him. Absolutely pathetic, he chastises himself. For the next ten minutes, he concentrates on meticulously cleaning himself. He wants to make himself as perfect as possible, a blank canvas for Felix to ruin as he pleases. An involuntary shiver ripples through his body. He loves knowing that Felix has been planning something. That he’s been sitting contemplating new ways to get inside Killian’s mind, under his skin, and touch the raw nerves that he finds there until Killian is almost driven mad with it. The fact that Killian is important enough for Felix to even spend time considering this… surprise, whatever it is, is perhaps the greatest gift of all.

Killian shuts the water off. The sudden silence makes him hyper-aware of his short, trembling breaths. He reaches towards the bathroom cabinet where he had carefully laid his cross after taking it off, but his hand falters. He’s aware of how ridiculous this sounds - how ridiculous Felix would find it - but he wants whatever’s going to happen to be between Felix and himself only. There’s some things that he’s allowed to keep secret, he thinks.

Wrapping himself in a fluffy towel, Killian steals softly across the kitchen floor to Felix’s bedroom. Light spills under the door, which is open ajar - but Killian still feels the need to knock. The space he and Felix share may well be as much his as Felix’s, but the Professor’s bedroom still feels strangely off-limits. Killian doesn’t go in alone. And even when Felix is in there, permission is required to enter.

‘Come in and close the door behind you,’ Killian hears from beyond the door, and follows suit immediately. It’s only once he’s heard the click of the door closing and they’re fully alone together that he looks over at the bed. Felix sits on top of the covers, reading. He puts the book down, takes his glasses off, and appraises Killian slowly. There are two items to his right; a familiar length of black rope, and an unfamiliar box - also black, understated and nondescript. Killian waits for Felix’s permission to sit, which is granted by a wave of the hand. He sits on the opposite corner of the bed to Felix, legs tucked under himself, determined not to wither under Felix’s gaze. ‘Well?’ Felix prompts. Killian is tongue-tied, and can only look helplessly at his Professor as his face reddens - embarrassed at not figuring out what Felix wanted quickly enough. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Felix asks softly, and the tension in Killian’s chest dissipates into something manageable.

‘Y-yes, of course. Sorry,’ he mumbles, inching closer to what he can now be sure is the surprise. He’s slightly taken aback by the weight of the box as he picks it up, and his breath catches in his throat as he lifts the lid to reveal its cargo.

It’s a wand. The head is soft black silicone, perfectly smooth and about the size of Killian’s fist - the body tapers down into a dial and cordless end. The light below the dial is green; it’s fully charged. Killian tries to swallow but his mouth is suddenly dry. He settles instead for an audibly shaky intake of breath before he looks up at Felix.

The smirk on Felix’s face is maddeningly attractive, the upturn of his lip a promise that he knows exactly what to do with Killian’s new toy. ‘Thank you,’ Killian breathes.

‘You haven’t even begun to thank me,’ Felix responds, quick as ever - Killian wishes he had his notebook, because that one was good. He feels heat melting in his abdomen, a dangerous current pulling down at the simultaneous promise-threat. ‘Tell me, have you ever used one of these before?’ Killian shakes his head silently, still in awe. It’s true that he’s never even touched a wand before, but Killian had seen one used on someone else - the unforgiving hardness pressed against writhing and desperate flesh. A flush delicately creeps his way up his neck and across the tips of his ears. ‘It seems as though you know what to expect, though,’ Felix continues, tone low and dangerous. ‘I was going to allow you to feel it on your hand first, but now I see no reason to delay ourselves any further.’

‘I-I think that’s wise, Professor,’ Killian stammers, so desperate to ingratiate himself to the man who now holds the instrument of Killian’s pleasure-torture.

‘Oh, you think it’s wise, do you?’ There it is - the low growl, almost imperceptible, giving away Felix’s quiet affront. ‘Come here, boy.’

Killian crawls across the bed and, when he’s close enough, resists the urge to fall to his knees at Felix’s feet in supplication. It’s wise to start begging for mercy now, while he still has most of his faculties. Felix cuts his train of thought short as he twists his hand into Killian’s hair, tugging sharply to lift Killian’s head. ‘I don’t need to know what you think, Killian. That’s not what I have you here for.’ The slap round the face Killian gets for his actions is almost gentle - there’s a stolen moment of a caress that Felix gives Killian’s cheek after his hand has made contact with it.

‘Yes, Professor.’ Felix pushes him away and instead reaches for the rope. There’s a moment of untethered panic Killian feels in his chest at the loss of contact which takes most of his energy to quell.

‘Take that towel off,’ Felix orders offhandedly. On shaky legs, Killian stands, and lets the towel fall on the carpet below. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix watches. The soft curve of Killian’s thighs is only magnified by the gentle dusting of hair along the contours of his body. There’s some that gathers on his chest, an expanse of pale skin disrupted by two pink scars. The surrounding skin there is so sensitive - Felix can drive Killian mad by just tracing his fingers up and down the incisions. Felix looks away as Killian moves to get back on the bed. ‘Don’t leave it on the floor,’ he says in a practiced exasperated tone. Killian bends to pick it up and Felix allows himself a rare smile of appreciation. The boy’s skin is still slightly damp from the shower - the way the light catches the beads of water is rather appealing. Felix has finished unraveling the rope by now. Killian sits cross-legged on the bed, awaiting direction. ‘Come here,’ Felix says softly, and Killian crawls towards him, presenting his wrists to be tied. He knows the score and order of things by now; Felix is nothing if not methodical.

But tonight, as Killian should have guessed, is different. Felix frowns. ‘No, turn around. Hands behind your back.’ Killian does so, and feels Felix tug at his hands, pulling his arms into an uncomfortable shape for a moment. He winces just as Felix lets go, and the relief from the discomfort makes the throbbing he feels between his legs whenever Felix touches him all the sweeter. ‘Put them together.’

‘What?’

‘Palms together. Like you’re praying.’

Killian struggles for a moment - Felix’s hands are gripped just above each of his elbows, holding his upper arms firmly in place as the young man flounders in his grip. He can sense the Professor becoming more impatient with each passing second he fails to do what is asked of him, and just as he hears the click of Felix’s tongue preparing to tut, his fingertips press together in a prayer-like pose. His little fingers jut uncomfortably between the base of his shoulder blades, and he gasps out when Felix removes his hands from his upper arms and forces his palms together.

‘There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

Killian is trying to summon the will to say that it was, actually, and if this is meant to be fun he has several complaints, when he feels the rope around his wrists. Ah, shit. He tries to see the bright side; at least he can relax his muscles a little when Felix is done. Felix is tying him meticulously, spending much longer than usual, and Killian bites his lip whenever he feels the rope tug tightly against his skin. Felix announces that he has finished the tie by pushing Killian face-down onto the bed. It takes Killian aback somewhat, and he is about to move reflexively when he feels Felix’s hand on the small of his back. The discomfort from the rope is still there, but the longer he lies there with his arms aching, the more the pain is accompanied by another sensation under his skin. Deeper, in his belly and between his legs, and warmer, the heat in him building steadily. Felix gives Killian’s arm a tug, and the rope bites deliciously when he does. Killian cries out softly.

‘Oh, bless.’

Felix’s voice is dripping with condescension. Two of his fingers trace up Killian’s thigh and begin to rub his t-dick lazily. Killian whines, pushing his hips back against Felix’s fingers. He can feel himself throbbing and hard under Felix’s touch already. When they’re out together, Felix need only brush his hand against the small of Killian’s back a handful of times before he’s desperate for him; Killian has felt this need since Felix told him to come to bed. He’s just been waiting for Felix’s sign that he ought to express it. So conditioned, like a good pet ought to be. Felix hums in approval when he sees the wetness dripping down towards Killian’s cock, where the Professor’s fingers still circle tightly.

‘This is why I can never get rid of you, darling boy. It would simply be too much effort to train someone else as thoroughly as I’ve trained you.’ Killian moans at that; a deep sound barely muffled by the pillow, and he feels another gush of wetness between his legs as his pussy flutters and tightens. ‘Oh dear. I do underestimate the effect that statements like that have on you, don’t I, dearest?’

Killian writhes, incoherent mumbles dropping from his mouth at the terms of endearment Felix is lavishing on him. The writhing sends pain shooting from his arms, still tightly bound behind him, but Killian relaxes into the discomfort. ‘I think you’re ready now,’ Felix murmurs, and Killian feels something pressing against his dick, soft but unyielding, curved, and his brain is still processing this new information when Felix turns it on.

The wand is soft at first, but the vibrations go deep, shaking Killian’s core as he eagerly pushes back against the instrument, grinding his pussy happily against the wand’s head. He feels the hand Felix had been touching him with on the back of his thigh, wiping it clean before settling it on the small of his back again.

‘Good boy,’ Felix mutters, and Killian tries to turn to look at him but finds the weight of his own shoulder keeping his face in the pillows. He has a sense of something - Felix’s voice, just for a moment, has dropped from the cadence and tone he uses to praise and into something else, something more calculating. But just as Killian begins to consider this train of thought, there is a click - and then two - as Felix turns the wand up and up again, and Killian bites down against the pillow as moans shudder through his body. The best way he can describe the wand’s sensation is insistent - it ripples through him continuously, and though Felix is shifting it around every so often there is not one moment where the feeling is dampened, not one second of respite from the feedback loop being created between Killian’s legs. Killian has stopped grinding against it because he doesn’t need to, but his hips have started stuttering of their own accord, jumping every so often and snapping back down against the toy.

He is dripping, the wetness collecting in a small pool between his knees on the duvet and serving to make the wand glide against him more easily. Felix has stopped moving it and is just holding it there, right underneath the head of his dick, so that with every involuntary movement of Killian’s body he is pressing the most sensitive part of himself against it. This causes him to flinch, which causes his arms to pull away from one another, which causes the ropes to dig harder into his skin, which causes Killian to whimper and his dick to throb, which means for a moment the wand is that much stronger against him.

‘You’re in quite the predicament, aren’t you. I’m amazed you haven’t come yet, dear.’

Twisting his head as far as he can, Killian grits out: ‘you haven’t - given me permission - Professor.’ The thought hasn’t even crossed his mind. He has learned control of his body, an extension of Felix’s command over him, and it comes so naturally to him now it is difficult to even consider breaking out of it.

‘Oh, of course. Such a good little thing, aren’t you? Go on, why don’t you come for me.’ Felix says it so offhandedly as he turns the toy’s intensity up once more, and Killian keens loudly. Just the act of receiving permission changes so much in an instant; he had been fighting, and now he relaxes into the way the vibrations rumble through him. Felix wants this, he thinks to himself. Felix wants me to make a mess of myself like the stupid little toy I am. He moans loudly, and Felix’s hand lifts from Killian’s back and twists into his hair. ‘I’m thinking of doing this to you more often, you know,’ the Professor mutters, and the feeling of his soft breath against Killian’s ear has his hips desperately grinding down against the toy again. ‘You’re so needy, it’d be far easier for me to force an orgasm out of you every so often to keep you at bay. So you can focus on your true purpose.’

Killian feels tears of gratitude gather at the corners of his eyes. The sensation is building in him now - he can feel it deep inside him, the desperate contracting of his pussy as more of his slick floods out of it, the sliding and shifting of his cock against the strong vibrations of the machine pressed unyielding against him. ‘That’s right,’ Felix coos, petting the back of Killian’s hair. ‘Really savour this one, darling. I understand the more of them I force you to have, the more unpleasant it is for you.’

With a surprised, choked gasp, Killian comes, his legs closing around the toy and frantically pushing it up against himself as his dick throbs and pulses. His pussy tightens, desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm rips through him. He is moaning into the pillow, thrusting down until his cock becomes too sensitive to bear it, at which point there is a groan followed by a long silence, and then higher, whimpering cries until Felix shuts the toy off.

He leaves it where it is pressed against Killian’s cock, though. As he slowly returns to Earth, Killian notes the burn in his shoulder muscles, waiting to feel Felix’s cool hands on the knots, to slowly untie him. But in his post-orgasmic state, Killian is completely pliant and does not struggle, let alone immediately process it, when Felix starts to wrap rope around his ankles. After several seconds utterly silent, Killian twists his head and asks, ‘what you doin’?’

Felix slaps the top of his thigh enough to sting. ‘What are you doing, Professor.’

‘S-sorry, Professor… what are you doing, Professor? What’d you mean about, uh… about forcing me to have… to have more…’

‘Well, it is a special occasion.’ Killian’s heart blooms in his chest. ‘I wanted you to have something to occupy you while I’m gone.’

The tie between Killian’s ankles is finished with a sharp tug, and the Professor moves onto something on his thighs. But Killian’s mind is singularly focused now, his heart floundering against his ribs, his face creased in a deep frown as he tries to figure out what the Professor could mean.

‘While… you’re gone, Professor?’

‘It’s my daughter’s birthday.’ Felix replies simply, before gripping Killian’s shoulder to turn him over, one hand holding the unfinished tie in place as he does so. Killian’s eyes blearily focus on Felix, whose attention is solely on the rope. Killian shakes his head.

‘N-no, it would’ve been in your diary… I would’ve seen…’

The Professor looks up at him at that.

‘That diary is for my work engagements, and personal engagements that happen to overlap with my academic ones. I only tell you what I need you to know, Killian, and I’m sure you’ll understand that I don’t need the assistance of a postgraduate barely out of his Master’s to remember my child’s birthday.’ Felix’s gaze is cool as he looks at Killian. Calm. He’s just stating facts, Killian reassures himself. This is what he’s like. Tears, again, at his eyes, but hotter this time. He can feel his face burning. Felix looks back down.

‘Her mother took her to dinner this year, but Yvette’s invited me to join her and her husband for drinks, hence the late hour. I’ve got no morning tutorials tomorrow; I doubt there would be any harm done.’ Killian nods. Felix didn’t have to volunteer that information, and it would have been no right of Killian’s to ask, but he wanted Killian to know. Felix is so thoughtful, even at times like this. But still…

‘Perhaps I could- you might need- in case you say anything noteworthy-’

Felix chuckles to himself. Killian hates when he does that. Like he’s too stupid to even be in on the joke. But there’s a reason, he reminds himself, always a reason.

‘You think my daughter would appreciate my turning up to her birthday celebrations with my pet whore?’

Killian lets out one shameful sob as his hips jump under Felix’s hands. Felix tuts. ‘Be still, boy. You’re meant to enjoy this.’

Killian cranes his neck up to see what Felix is actually doing. The tie is nearly finished; the toy is now held firmly against Killian’s cock by his own legs, pulled up to sit flush against him by ties that sit above his hips. He is trapped. ‘Felix, what-’

‘I had a look at those papers you marked before I came in to see you. The last handful are sloppy, Killian, and I couldn’t have you trying to mark any more when you’re clearly exhausted and in need of… something.’ Felix’s gaze drops pointedly to the wet spot on the duvet. ‘This will keep you busy, stop you from moping while I’m out and, most importantly, keep you from attempting to finish off the rest of those papers even more pitifully than before. Also,’ and it is at this point that Felix leans over him, and Killian can see how hard he is, his cock straining against his suit trousers, ‘I rather like the idea of you tied up like this, waiting for me to come home.’ He flicks the toy on again, and Killian whimpers.

‘But Felix-’ the older man gives him a sharp look, and Killian corrects himself, ‘Professor, won’t I be… what if it’s too much?’

‘It will run out of battery,’ the Professor responds airily, ‘eventually.’ He pulls at Killian’s shoulder again until the boy is laid on his side, and turns the toy up higher until Killian is gasping for breath, his sensitive cock pulsing already with the onslaught of sensation. Killian feels his muscles throb again as the Professor releases his grip on Killian’s shoulder. ‘Remember to keep wiggling your fingers, dear. I did make that quite tight.’

Killian opens his mouth to thank the Professor for his advice, thank him for going out of his way to do all this to save Killian from himself, to tell him to enjoy his night, but is cut off by the sound of a ringing phone from Felix’s jacket. Felix waves an impatient hand at Killian, having sensed he was going to speak, and picks it up.

‘Hello? Yes, darling, I’m almost there… traffic’s bloody awful, I’m afraid. Taxi driver’s absolutely not helping. He’s not getting a tip.’ He shares a laugh, Killian presumes, with his daughter, and he’d be pleased to see him so happy if it weren’t for the insistent buzzing between his legs, the pressure building before Felix has even left. Felix hangs up. ‘What was it you were going to say?’ Killian swallows.

‘How old is she?’

‘Yvette? She’s twenty-seven today, not that it’s any of your business.’

‘Of course, Professor. I’m sorry.’

Felix sighs.

‘You are pitiful, Killian.’ He turns the wand up one last time and goes to leave. ‘Have fun.’

Killian drops his head to the bed and starts to moan and shudder, relaxing once again into the sensation, trying to ignore the weight in his chest and the anxiety clawing at his stomach and the restless ache in his bound arms. Stopping in the door, Felix takes one look back at him, pale skin turned red and purple between the black ropes, body shifting and rippling under the onslaught, sighs, and turns off the light.

The bedroom door clicks shut, then the front door, the locks fall into place, and Killian is left alone with only the weak light of the toy between his legs to illuminate him.

He sobs his way through his next orgasm, which turns to screams as the toy doesn’t stop, the intensity felt so much more keenly in his tragic and post-orgasmic state. The boy has the decency to bite the pillow under his head as the toy rips them out of him, again and again, and all he can think of is Felix, and what the lesson here may be, and the fact that he’s four years younger than his daughter, that Felix is easily old enough to be his father, but that Felix has never remembered his birthday. When he thinks of this he comes hard and angry, tearing at the pillow with his teeth, and growling and sobbing until - mercifully - the fucking thing dies.

Killian cannot count the orgasms forced from him, but he can feel the number in his pelvic muscles, aching from the shuddering desperate motions he’d been making for hours. His arms and shoulders burn but he has run out of tears, so he sobs dry and resigned into the pillow until he falls into some kind of sleep.

The sleep is not restful; Killian only gets a few minutes at a time, sometimes half an hour, before he shifts unconsciously and sends a pain searing down his spine or his arms. Whenever he wakes, he tries to remember to wiggle his fingers. They’re tingly. He has just dropped off again when he’s woken by keys jingling, and his eyes light up. Felix is home. He hears footsteps crossing the threshold, but they’re heavy, heavier than Felix’s. Christ, he thinks, Felix has brought some musclebound twunk home. Killian lets out a sigh, waiting for the telltale click of Felix’s footsteps. The light clicks on, the front door closes. Still only one set of footsteps in the house, and if he strains his neck, Killian can make out a shadow under the door. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he turns to bite the pillow again to stay as silent as possible. Whimpers of fear are already rising in him, his sleep-deprived mind dragging forward nightmare scenarios to play with the panic.

The footsteps are getting closer. He screws his eyes shut. Tries to will himself out of existence. The door handle turns, and the door swings open. Orange bursts in front of his eyelids as the light switch clicks on, and Killian hears a sharp inhale and a long exhale. Hyperventilating, he scrambles to look; at some point in the night he fell forwards, and he struggles around on the bed to flip over and see this intruder. His thrashing around is useless, and soon he feels broad, warm hands lifting him onto his back. Killian squints up against the bright light, and is shocked to see that he… recognises this man. The man is physically imposing, tall and wide, with the weathered-muscle shoulders of someone past their physical prime but so set in himself that the structures of strength remain, stubborn against the greying stubble on the man’s jaw and the soft curve of his belly. His eyes are dark and glint down at Killian with menace, with glee.

It takes him a second to place, but no, this is-

‘Josef…’ Killian says. The bouncer at the fancy bar downtown where Felix tends to host his… parties. He turns a blind eye to a lot, provided Felix tips him generously at the end of each semester. ‘What are you doing in m- in Felix’s house? Why do you have the keys?’ His mind already begins to run through the infinite horrible possibilities - that the security guard, tired of his job, maybe, had snapped, assaulted Felix and had come here to find what valuables he could before fleeing the country. Maybe he was here to kidnap Killian. Maybe-

‘Felix sends his apologies,’ the man laughs, grinning down at Killian’s bound and aching body. ‘He was just about to head back to you when this kid walked in - exactly his type. Like you, y’know, but… kinda skinnier.’ He tilts his head. ‘Less tired-looking. Had to ID him and all. Anyway, the prof was fretting about you being here, all…’ he gestures to Killian’s predicament. ‘So I told him I’d come back here and take care of you. As a favour. He was very grateful.’ He smiles. Killian feels sick, and tries to concentrate on what Josef said - that Felix was worried about him. It warms his heart a little. But Josef still hasn’t taken his hands off him.

‘I refuse to believe he allowed this,’ Killian stammers, trying indignantly to struggle out of Josef’s grip. ‘He told me he’d be back. He told me he was coming home.’

‘Well, he told me to take his keys and get you out of this. Just in time, too. You’re looking pretty rough back there.’ Now that he mentions it, Killian has to admit that his arms are fucking killing him. Josef reaches into a drawer in the side table, and Killian thinks of protesting before he sees a familiar flash of silver. ‘Right where he said they’d be,’ he says to Killian, holding the safety scissors aloft. ‘Now do you believe me?’ Killian wavers still. ‘Look, you can say no if you want, but Felix looked pretty determined to fuck that guy.’

Killian imagines what this boy looks like. If he knows Felix, Killian doubts he’s over twenty. Probably exactly like him, a fresher wandering about and exploring, waiting for someone to take pity. His lip curls into a small sneer. Not exactly like him, though. Because Felix had said he was indispensable. That he could never get rid of him. He turns to Josef.

‘Then cut me free, please.’

Josef obliges, flipping Killian back over and making short work of the intricate ties binding Killian’s arms together. He hisses in pain as the movement and feeling return to his forearms, his wrists, his fingers, and he allows them to fall uselessly to his sides. Josef then turns his attention to the rope around Killian’s hips and between his legs, and pulls the toy out from between Killian’s thighs. Killian winces when he pulls it away, the head of his cock still so sensitive, the wand making a soft sound as it is pulled from the wetness between Killian’s legs. Last to go are the ties on his ankles. Killian shifts, intending to move, before noticing that Josef is still straddling him at the knees. The man’s body weight shifts up until he is astride Killian’s ass. Had he missed some rope? Killian flexes his arms; no, nothing still wrapped around him, no reason for him to… 

He feels a rough hand caress his back. ‘It’s so close to the end of the semester, right… Felix said he thought I should take my own bonus tonight.’ Killian’s blood runs cold.

‘H…’ the sound dies on his tongue, his mouth suddenly dry. ‘He wouldn’t.’

‘But he did, darlin’.’ Killian feels something pressing against the crack of his ass, clad in jeans, rough against his soft skin. ‘Now, listen, I’ve helped you out here. Think I deserve a little something in return.’

Christ, Killian thinks, and his mind jumps to his cross - still where he left it on the bathroom shelf. He is alone in this place. And so he tries, really tries, to fight. But he’s so tired. He’s had less than an hour of sleep, his arms are useless, all pins and needles when he tries to force them to move, and he aches between his legs. He tries to kick Josef, bringing his heels up to catch the man in the back, but the bouncer catches his foot easily and twists it as Killian yelps.

‘Yeah, I thought so… see, I was thinkin’ about not lettin’ you out first first, then I took one look at you and knew, even untied, you’d be too weak to stop it from happening.’

Killian hears the sick metallic crunch of a zipper. Josef moves back between his legs, one strong hand on each of Killian’s thighs. And Killian feels himself leaning into the touch. Felix so rarely touches him like this. His hands always feel so dispassionate, but Josef’s…

No. No, this is wrong; Felix can’t have meant for Josef to do this. They’ve never talked about it. Killian shakes his head. ‘Stop.’ He mumbles.

Josef pushes his legs apart. Killian tenses in fear at the sensation of the fat head of Josef’s cock rubbing against his hole. ‘What’s that?’

‘Stop it.’

‘Ah, you’re all wet still… gotta thank Felix for gettin’ you ready like that. I can just slide right in.’

He does, and Killian lets out a choked cry. ‘Stop it,’ he tries to insist, wriggling pitifully, but the movement just makes Josef groan as he fills Killian’s pussy with his thick cock, forcing the boy’s legs apart farther to gaze down at the way the boy’s hole is swallowing him.

‘You know, fr’a boy who’s tryna tell me you don’t want it, you’re taking my cock awful well,’ he sneers, and Killian winces as the zipper brushes his cock with every thrust the man makes inside of him, but he doesn’t reply.

‘Aw, silent treatment, is it? Tha’s alright. Don’t need you to talk. Just need you to keep your legs open.’ His thrusts are rough and hard, and Killian’s body shifts and rocks with every movement. Killian’s head is turned to one side. He imagines it’s Felix fucking him like this. But Felix’s touches are so different; his hands are cool, smaller than Josef’s, and he rarely holds Killian down like Josef is. He’s usually pinching, scratching, slapping, pulling Killian’s hair; a constant onslaught of attack, physical and often verbal, always designed to make Killian arch his back in a more pleasing way, or take him deeper, or moan differently.

‘Felix…’ Killian whispers, eyes closed, pretending.

‘No,’ says Josef as he rolls his hips hard against the boy beneath him. ‘Don’t do that,’ he says between breaths. ‘Impolite.’ One of his hands moves from its place on Killian’s thigh, round to his front, groping and feeling for his dick. Killian tries to remain impassive, but can’t hide the way he jumps, gripping Josef’s cock tighter as his thumb presses down against the sensitive flesh. ‘You’re here.’ Josef mutters. He starts rubbing Killian’s cock in time with his thrusts. ‘Right here. With me.’ The man’s insistent toying with his cock combined with the rough thrusts into him begins to drag small moans and whimpers out of Killian. He whines helplessly every time Josef bottoms out inside him, a pathetic little mewl that he hates to admit sounds, ever so slightly, like he is enjoying this.

‘Yeah, fuck,’ Josef murmurs, and Killian thinks he’s talking to himself at first. ‘Said you’d be like this. Said it wouldn’t take you- long- to warm up to me.’

‘No he didn’t,’ Killian insists desperately, but Josef’s cock fills him so deeply for a moment that his last word is drawn into a whine. Josef laughs again. His laugh is crackly, a smoker’s chuckle, a laugh that Killian had come to appreciate over time. Not now, though. Not any more.

‘Yeah, he did. Talks to me ‘bout you. Tells me you’re a whore.’ Killian feels Josef’s elbow at the top of his spine as the man puts more of his weight onto him, leaving himself freer to thrust up harder into him. Every inch of the man’s dick ebbs and fuels the ache in Killian’s pussy at once, and his eyes squeeze shut as the man’s nicotine-laced breath tickles his earlobe. ‘Said he’s been thinkin’- ‘bout doing this - fr’a while. Whorin’ you out. Teachin’ you your place.’

Killian’s pussy spasms around Josef’s cock.

‘Like fucking clockwork.’

That’s what makes Killian lose it. How dare he? How dare he have the audacity to say these things, to assume he knows Killian, knows him like Felix does? He twists and wriggles, and the burst of adrenaline combined with the surprise of it allows him to struggle off Josef’s cock and up the bed slightly. There is a silence from behind him, before Josef grabs his hair and pulls his head upwards. Killian yelps in fear. Jesus, did he really think this would be enough?

‘Oh, you stupid bitch.’ Josef throws him back down on the bed, hard enough to make the frame shudder. Breathing heavily, he pushes Killian’s legs further apart.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Killian stammers.

‘Shut it. Need an incentive to keep still? I’ll give you a fucking incentive.’ Josef positions his cock, still dripping with Killian’s wetness, at Killian’s asshole. ‘Whore. Felix said you didn’t have it in you to fight. That you’d agree to it soon as I told you he allowed it. Didn’t say anything about having to teach you a fucking lesson.’

Killian begins to shake his head frantically. It’s rare that Felix fucks his ass, and Killian secretly relishes it because it’s one of the only times Felix really is careful with him. ‘Please don’t. It won’t go in. It won’t, I’m not ready, I don’t know where the lube is.’

‘Keep your fucking mouth shut, boy,’ Josef says, twisting his hand in Killian’s hair tighter as he grunts and pushes the slick head of his cock against Killian’s ass again. He’s pushing and pushing, and Killian is still, breathing fast like a frightened animal. Josef has his elbow screwed against Killian’s spine. There is no escaping it. He just has to wait until Josef realises he can’t fuck him like this. But Josef is still pushing, holding his cock with his free hand, forcing and forcing against the first tight ring of muscle until-

Killian howls in pain. He feels something give, and Josef’s cock, thick enough to have made his pussy feel stretched, sore, bruised, slides into his ass. Josef shoves Killian’s face down into the pillow, forearm on the back of his neck as Killian screams and sobs at the feeling, so alien, tearing through him. His arms are still weak but they are flailing in an attempt to grip onto anything as some kind of tether. He finds the bedpost and grips for dear life. Josef settles himself inside Killian and just as the pain starts to ebb away, Josef begins to move.

It does not feel like Killian remembered it. Josef is so big, and the slow burn of the stretch and endorphins from the pain are morphing into some kind of pleasurable haze, with the punctuation of a loud, low groan from the man on top of him. Josef lets himself fall onto Killian, keeping him still through the weight of muscle and flesh alone, as his cock pumps in and out of him. His stubble scratches Killian’s back. Killian is somewhat aware that he is still crying.

‘Shh, don’t cry,’ Josef mutters, and Killian lets out a moan-whimper at the sensation of Josef’s cock filling and stretching him completely once again. ‘Fuck, so tight. So good. See, you are good, aren’t you. You know how to be good.’

‘Mm-hmm,’ Killian whines.

‘Felix knows what’s best for you, see,’ Josef mutters, and Killian can smell the whiskey on his breath now he’s so close. ‘Wouldn’t’ve sent me here if he din’t know there was somethin’ I could give you.’

His hand slides beneath Killian’s body again, and Killian allows it.

‘Yeah, tha’s it. G’na make you come, baby boy,’ and Killian cringes at the pet name even as his cock twitches under Josef’s fingers. ‘G’na make you come before I fill you up.’

Panic sets in again.

‘Please don’t come in me,’ Killian whispers, ‘please, Felix will be angry.’

‘Shh, shh,’ Josef mutters. He is moving slower than when he was fucking Killian’s pussy, but there’s more weight behind his thrusts, and Killian feels each one ripple through him. There is some deep satisfaction in the way Josef’s cock stretches him open. Killian thinks about how he will look in the morning, hole puffy and abused, dripping with another man’s cum. He hates the sick thrill it gives him to know that Felix will see that. It runs down the back of his neck like a hot knife, and he doesn’t know if the sensation is driven by arousal or fear.

‘I’m gonna come in you, pretty boy.’ His rough fingers rub side-to-side over Killian’s throbbing cock. ‘Gonna fill you up like a whore. Felix must’ve known I’d do that to you. And he knows what you need, don’t he?’

Killian nods. He can’t not.

‘You just lie there n’take it, pretty whore. Take it for Felix.’

Killian allows himself, for a moment, to really think about Felix’s responsibility in all this. He thinks about how, yes, Felix has known Josef for a very long time and, yes, is probably able to make some fairly astute guesses as to what Josef might do to whatever poor thing he was burying himself in. And Felix has decided he needs this.

‘I need this,’ Killian murmurs to himself as Josef thrusts into him. ‘I need this.’ It becomes louder, and Josef nods.

‘Tha’s it. Good boy,’ he mutters approvingly, still stroking Killian’s cock.

‘Need to be good for him,’ says Killian, pressing his hips down into Josef’s hand. The feeling of Josef stretching and fucking his ass open is mixing with the sparks of pleasure Killian feels when Josef’s fingers brush his cock. Mouth open, Killian is panting, arching his back to meet Josef’s thrusts, letting the man rub his cock until he is moaning underneath him.

‘Faster,’ Killian pleads. ‘Harder.’ He’s not even sure what he’s asking for but Josef picks the pace of his thrusts up. Their skin slaps together as Josef grunts in exertion, burying himself in Killian’s ass over and over, forcing the boy’s tight hole open around him. Josef shifts his hand, sliding his fingers into Killian’s wet pussy and pressing the base of his callused palm against Killian’s cock. His movements are imprecise but consistent, his rough hand dragging over Killian’s dick as his thick fingers rub insistently at Killian’s g-spot. Killian can feel himself trapped, Josef’s fingers crowding into his pussy, Josef’s cock pounding into his hole, and all that weight pressed down to force Killian to grind his desperate cock against Josef’s open hand. Killian feels his muscles starting to tense erratically. His pussy clenches around Josef’s fingers.

He needs this.

‘I need you to come in me,’ Killian whimpers.

‘Not till you do first, baby boy.’

Killian thinks of how proud Felix will be of him when he finds out how well he took Josef’s cock, and comes all over Josef’s hand with a shuddering cry. His cock spasms and pulses, he feels his pussy and ass tighten desperately and spasmodically, and he hears Josef groan behind him as that - apparently - is what has pushed him over the edge. Killian feels his ass fill with cum, warm and thick, deep inside him.

Killian muses that he and Felix have never come at the same time as Josef collapses onto him.

He is dimly aware, some time later, of the man pulling out and getting off him, walking away and running the shower in the bathroom. His eyelids are heavy, and he knows sleep is about to take him. Killian smiles softly, thinking about Felix coming home the next morning. Maybe he’ll bring breakfast from the pastry shop they stop at sometimes. He’ll forgive Killian, he’s sure.

‘One minute,’ Felix says to the impressionable young gentleman with whom he’s spent the night and sunrise. ‘I just have to take care of something in the apartment.’ Leaving the boy in the hall, he steps into his home. It reeks of sex. The bedroom door is open, as are some of the kitchen cupboards. Josef had made his way here, he notes with a smile. Peering around the bedroom door, he sees Killian fast asleep, naked, ass in the air, cum dripping down his leg. He frowns. He didn’t recall giving Josef permission to do that. Well, Killian should have known better than to just allow him. They’ll be having words later, Felix imagines. He tears a sheet of notepaper out of one of Killian’s books - there are a few lines of uninspiring poetry tarnishing the page, so he draws a line through them and writes a note below. The black biro block capitals read: ‘Out for breakfast. Lunch seminar as per usual. Do try to turn up somewhat presentably. Professor.’

Replacing the pen in his blazer pocket, Felix grabs his umbrella from the coat rack - the weather is pitiful today - and slips back out of the front door to his young friend. ‘Thank you for waiting, dear boy,’ he murmurs. The boy grins at him. His teeth are crooked. Felix internally sighs.

Killian’s alarm rings at seven. It takes him longer to wake up, as it’s slightly muted through the bedroom wall. But when he does, he wakes aching and alone, eyes blurred and burning with sleep, and cold, so cold, from the mountain air.

#my work #10k #felix and killian

[imagining-supernatural]

The Airport

Part 24 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You surprise Seb at the airport, eager to celebrate the good news from earlier. The next day, your demons rear up and send you spiraling again.

Word Count: 2,425

The crowd was making you nervous, but you tamped it down. It would all be worth it in a few minutes.

Sitting on the hard chair, you glanced up at the flight board, checking the plane arriving from Atlanta. It had arrived fifteen minutes ago and passengers were just now debarking. You tapped your fingers on the poster board Josselin insisted that you make. As soon as she heard you were going to surprise Sebastian at the airport, she ran out to buy supplies and the two of you (along with Brenda when she didn’t have patients) got covered in glitter and marker as you created your masterpiece.

Glitter now fell to the floor of the airport as you tap-tap-tapped the sign.

You knew there would be pictures. Your flashy sign with Sebastian Stan’s name on it was sure to draw attention. But somehow, you didn’t give a damn. You’d gotten good news this week and he wasn’t there to hold your hand. You weren’t about to waste another second without celebrating it with him.

Passengers started filtering out towards the bag carousel and you stood, waiting to see the short, dark hair you’d grown to love. As soon as you spotted him, you held the sign just below your face, not quite ready to hold it higher and draw even more attention.

Before he spotted you, he drew his phone to his ear and, a second later, yours started ringing. It was slightly awkward to hold the large poster board and grab your phone, but you managed it quickly enough.

“Hey honey,” you greeted.

“Hey. I just landed. I’m headed out to grab a cab. Should be home soon.”

“Cabs?” you asked, infusing your tone with disgust. “Aren’t those dirty? I bet you’d rather have Sean drive you, huh? Don’t wanna get that stylish tan leather jacket you have on dirty, do ya?”

His gait slowed and, even from this distance, you noticed his brow furl in confusion. It was a brief moment, then he started looking around. “You think this jacket looks good, huh?”

“I think the guy inside looks even better.”

You could see the exact moment he saw you. God, you wish you could have captured that smile on his face on film. Then his eyes slipped down to your sign and he let out a full-bodied laugh. Just the sound of it brought your own laughter and god it felt good.

The crowd between you was nothing as he pushed his way to you. A few feet in front of you, he stopped to study the sign. “Baby, how much glitter did you use on that Christmas tree?”

“Josselin,” you said, “Went a bit overboard. And pulled me and Brenda in with her. ‘Sides, I’m from Utah. You can’t go to the airport without seeing signs like these ones welcoming missionaries home. I drew on my memories of those. Glitter’s a staple in Mormon households and I had plenty of friends in the church.”

He chuckled, grabbed the sign from you to hold it to the side, and wrapped his other arm around you. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.” Pulling back just enough to look up at him, your smile took over your face. “I’ve been waiting to celebrate the good news Dr. Chowdhury gave us on Tuesday with you. Couldn’t wait for you to get home.”

“Can’t wait ‘til we get home either,” he murmured, dropping the thick poster board to the ground. It hit the floor and leaned against your legs with a wobble. Within the next moment, his hands were on your face, drawing it up to his.

There was a slight moment where you saw his eyes asking if you were okay with this, but you really didn’t give a damn about the paparazzi. You’d gotten good news and you were finally with the one person you wanted to celebrate it with. So you gripped his shirt in your fingers and raised up on your toes to press your lips to his.

You were never one for PDA, but you sure as hell weren’t one to break a kiss with Sebastian either. The entire would could go to hell for all you cared. You had a great shot at being cancer free in a month, a fuckin’ amazing husband to celebrate with, and life couldn’t get any better for you.

“Sean’s waiting outside,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Mmm… mentioning another guy… kinda kills the mood, sweetheart.”

With a giggle, you stepped out of his arms just long enough to direct him in the right direction. He wrapped an arm around your waist and grabbed your sign with his other hand. Your own arm found its place around his waist and you let him support most of your weight. Sure, you were still buzzing with excitement, but that didn’t negate the exhaustion your treatment was still causing.

“How’re you feeling? Feel up to grabbing dinner somewhere?”

“Mmm.” You considered for a moment. “Yeah. Long as I can get some decent pasta.”

He grinned down at your upturned face and pressed a quick kiss to your brow. “Anything for you.”

“Okay, girl, how are you and that sexy husband of yours so fuckin’ cute?”

Jasmin’s question made you laugh. “Did pictures from yesterday get posted?”

“I just sent you links. Seriously. You guys at the Met? At Thanksgiving? Now at the fuckin’ airport?” You put your phone on speaker and set it beside you. Maybe it was the exertion of surprising Seb at the airport yesterday, but you were so exhausted. Your entire body was pudding. Holding your phone up to your ear was hard enough. “Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you two got married for real. For, like, true love or some shit like that. Cause that’s what the pictures online make it look like.”

“True love. Like in Enchanted? Seb would be Giselle, and I’d be… whoever McDreamy plays. I forgot his name. Obviously I’m far too logical to be Giselle.”

“And Seb brought you into his wonderful, magical life of hope and optimism.”

“Oh, fuckin’ shut up. Don’t make this cheesy analogy worse than I intended it to be.”

“Since when are you two kissing, huh? Little Miss Independent? Little Miss I-Can’t-Let-Anyone-Into-My-Life-Because-I’ll-Ruin-Their-Lives? Little Miss I-Don’t-Need-Love—”

“Okay, okay, you can stop it right there.”

“Stop it right where?” She asked petulantly. “Right at looooove? Huh? Now why would you be touchy about that word? Gee, I wonder…”

“Okay stop this little bit you goin’ on. It’s not cute.”

You could just see her shit-eating grin from thousands of miles away. “Babe.”

“Babe,” you returned, glancing towards the door. Sebastian was working out. He wouldn’t join you at the hospital for another fifteen minutes at least. There was no way he would overhear this conversation. “I know what you’re getting at.”

“And?”

“And stop it. Look, I—” you cut off and took a deep breath to collect your thoughts and feelings. “I’m not stupid. I-I-I know this isn’t just… just a fake marriage anymore. Not really. There’s… there are feelings. And I’m not the best at feelings, but even I know that this isn’t really the best situation to, you know, develop actual feelings for people.”

“Shut up. Just shut up, Y/N.”

Geez. You’d never heard her so sharp.

“Look, Y/N. I love you. You know that. You’re my best friend—hell you’re practically my sister. And I know that the logical part of your brain has been analyzing every interaction you’ve been having with Sebastian and looking for any reason to yeet the fuck right out of his life as soon as you can to minimize damage, but take a fucking step back, babe.”

“To take a step back, I’d have to know where I’m actually standing.”

“Look at those pictures people posted from the airport, Y/N. Look at how Seb looks at you. How you look at him. He’s an amazing actor, but no one could fake that look.” She paused, probably for dramatic effect. “You know where you stand. Neither of you have the balls to say it yet, but you both know.”

You stared at the bag of chemicals being pumped into your body. What did it say about you that the only way to stay alive was to have chemicals pumped into your body that literally made your own cells attack each other?

“Babe?” Jaz’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You’re real quiet over there.”

“I’m just thinkin’.”

“Think out loud. I can’t help you if you’re silent.”

I think that’s the point. “I just guess I never really thought about what would happen when this is all over, you know? I let Seb con me into hoping it’d end well and that I’d have the surgery and I’d live… but I don’t think I ever really believed. Not until this week.”

“And? What do you want to happen?”

“I don’t k—”

“You do know. Y/N. You know. It’s just you and me here. What do you want to happen?”

“Jaz, it’s not that eas—”

“It is that easy, Y/N. After your surgery, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t kn—”

“Y/N!”

“I wanna stay here!” You gasped as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“And?” Jasmin prompted quietly.

“I wanna stay with Seb,” you said, more quietly. “Holy shit.”

The silence was far too loud and, for the first time in this conversation, you were glad when Jasmin spoke. “Feels good to say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, closing your eyes against the sudden head rush. “Yeah it does. Fuck. Shit, I think I’m gonna puke.”

Jasmin had the gall to laugh at you. “I’ve been waiting for you to fall in love with someone forever. You’ll never make fun of me for eating ice cream and watching Criminal Minds for two weeks after a breakup again.”

Breakup?

“Though,” she continued, “I sincerely believe that you won’t go through a heartbreak with Sebastian.”

“I need you to shut up right the fuck now, Jaz.”

“Look, babe, you know I’m your guide to self-realization. You can’t—”

“No, seriously Jaz. Shut up. I-I-I don’t know if it’s the conversation or the tumor, but my head is swimming right now. I’m…” You took in a deep breath, hoping it would help. It didn’t. “I think I need to… take a nap, maybe. Eat some food. Forget about all this emotional shit for a hot minute.”

“You’re not gonna forget.”

“I’m gonna sure as hell try.” You considered how long that would last and rolled your eyes. The motion caused the pain in your head to spike and you immediately regretted it. “Until I see his stupid face, I guess. Then it’ll all come right back.”

“Mmhmm. Well, take it easy, okay? All joking aside, I’m super happy for you and you know that my number one priority is seeing that cancer eat its own ass, right? Whatever else happens in your life, we can handle. Good or bad.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the reason I stayed alive long enough to actually get out of Wyoming. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“You’re makin’ me blush, Y/N/N. Take a nap, okay? When you wake up, you’ll be back to your anti-emotional, super-logical self and the world will be right again.”

Her words forced a soft laugh from you, even as your eyes stayed closed. “Yeah, okay. Hey, I’m sure we’ll talk before then, but if we don’t… I’ll see you on the twenty-seventh.”

“Celebrating New Years in New York, bitch!” She crowed, punctuating her statement with a loud Wooo!

“New Years in New York,” you agreed, lips pulling up into a smile. “Just like we’ve dreamt of.”

Jasmin was quiet for a minute before she laughed. “Dreams do come true. You just got my dream of marrying a celebrity.”

And your dream of…

“I’ve never really had a dream.”

“We both got out of that shitty town. That was your dream. You got away from your family’s chains.”

“Did I?” You asked bitterly. “Fuckin’ reporters brought up that drama as soon as they figured out who I was. ‘Sides, Jaz… I have blood on my hands.”

“You didn’t have a choice”

“We always have a choice.”

“Your father had a choice. And he made the wrong choice every damn day.”

“I still took that choice away from him. Just like he did to me and my sister.”

“No, no, no, no. Babe, you are not going down this road again. Not now. You got amazing news earlier this week. Stop letting your dead dad ruin it.”

“My dead dad is dead because of me, Jaz.”

“It was self-defense, Y/N. Self-fucking-defense.”

This was definitely not the way you wanted your mood to go today, but you had years of practice going into this hole and your few months trying a healthier way with Sebastian just faded away. There was no crying baby to draw you from your thoughts. “There was no imminent threat. Self-defense wouldn’t hold up in court, Jaz. He was asleep. I should have just run away.”

“And leave your mom with him?”

This was an argument you and Jasmin had many times. She was the only person who knew the truth. Well, her and your sister.

You huffed heavily, ready to repeat your lines in the scene. “Well, she killed herself a few years later, so what does it fucking matter.”

You killed your abusive father, your emotionally distant mother killed herself, and your sister, who abused her own sons, killed her own abusive boyfriend.

God, why did you ever think you would end up any different?

A brittle, bitter laugh escaped your lips, sending a spark of pain from your head down to your chest. “I’m gonna take that nap now, Jaz. See you in a week.”

“Y/N, we are not ending this conversation like—”

You hung up your phone and immediately set it on silent.

It was just your luck to find an amazing guy, a guy who actually made you fall in love with him, and then realize at the last moment that you would never be able to deserve him. You would always be walking on glass, waiting for some latent gene to spark and turn you into a monster.

Yes, you wanted to stay with Seb after the surgery… but you couldn’t.

The original deal was to get a divorce after this was all over.

You had to make sure that’s what happened.

You guys didn’t really think I’d keep everyone happy forever, did you? And what about that bombshell about her killing her dad? Anyone see that coming?? Where will they go from here?

CHAPTER 25: THE COLLAPSE

#sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastianxyou #sebastianxreader #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

[walkerwords]

“Cartwheels and Key-chains” Jesus x Aaron

Request from anonymous: So it's not an x Reader, but can we get some Jesus x Aaron spending time with Gracie 🥺 pretty please

Word Count: 3999

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Grow Old With Me” by Tom Odell

Note: I love this pairing so much. In the comics they have a relationship and I so wish they would have done it in the show. Jesus was one of my favourite characters and I miss him! I hope this little one shot brings you a bit of joy! Happy Saturday!

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The sun was high in the sky by the time Jesus arrived at Alexandria.

Beams of warm light filtered through the canopy of trees that surrounded the town. Jesus had always loved Alexandria. While the Hilltop was his home, whenever Jesus came to visit, he felt like he was stepping back in time.

While the town had lost a lot of its original charm after the Saviors blanketed it with fire, Rick and Michonne had made sure to rebuild it. Even now, with Rick Grimes gone, Alexandria still stood proud and while her gates were currently closed, Jesus always had a way in. 

He approached from the South, sneaking through the brush. When he got close enough to the wall, he whistled twice. It didn’t take long for a less than melodic whistle to return. Jesus fought down a laugh as Judith Grimes came out of the shadows with a grin on her face. 

The little Grimes had grown up in front of all of them and Jesus couldn’t help but smile every time he saw her. Especially because she looked so much like her big brother now. Carl’s hat, now hers, sat proudly on her head, shielding her young face from the afternoon sun. Her wakizashi was strapped on her back and the colt python was on her hip. Both weapons reminding everyone who her parents were. A Grimes through and through and one of Jesus’ favourite people.

“We need to work on your whistles,” Jesus said walking towards her and giving her a big hug. Judith laughed as he picked her up and held her tight. 

“I’m trying!” she said with a giggle as he put her down. “Scott says I’m getting better though,” Judith said proudly. Jesus tapped the brim of her hat with a smile. 

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, “How are you, Judith?”

“I’m okay,” she said, “How’s Hilltop?” The two of them began walking through the woods, towards the other gate. 

“Good,” Jesus said, “Tara says hello and Enid wanted me to tell you that she loved the bracelet you made for her. I haven’t seen her take it off since.” That information made Judith beam. 

“Well, I’m glad!” Judith said and Jesus was always surprised at how well-spoken the kid was. Then again, according to Maggie, Carl was the same way at her age. She was quiet for a bit as they walked and then eventually Judith slowed down and looked up at him with those big eyes of hers. “Have you seen my Uncle Daryl?” she asked softly. Jesus knew that she missed her uncle a lot ever since he left to live in the woods and search for her dad. He also knew that Daryl missed her too, as well as R.J. who also frequently asked about him.

Daryl visited Hilltop occasionally to trade and essentially just let them know that he was still alive, but Jesus had a feeling Daryl wasn’t visiting Alexandria as much as he used to. At least not since the Jocelyn incident. Though, he had seen the archer not that long ago when he came into Hilltop to grab some materials to make more bolts for his bow. 

“I saw him a couple of weeks ago,” Jesus told Judith. “He’s doing good and he even has a dog now.”

“A dog?” Judith asked, excited. “I wanna meet the dog.” 

“Next time I see him, I’ll tell him. I promise,” Jesus said with a smile that Judith mirrored. “Okay, Miss Grimes, we have a mission to complete. Are you with me?” Judith nodded seriously and they picked up their speed towards the gate.

While Jesus knew he wasn’t prohibited from entering Alexandria, Michonne was still wary about people coming and going. And of course, if he just walked in, people would want to talk to him, especially Gabriel, Siddiq, and Rosita and while he loved his friends, there were only two people he wanted to see.

Jesus followed Judith through the woods. Running into a single Walker, Jesus let the little Grimes take it out. With two strikes of her sword, it was down and she finished it off easily. Just looking at her now, he knew that Rick would be so proud of his little girl.

Judith took him along the steel wall and to the gate. Scott was waiting there as always. He nodded to Judith as she slipped through the gates and purposefully turned his head away from Jesus who followed her. Scott was smiling as he joined in on the game. Judith saluted the Alexandrian guard and then took Jesus’ hand and pulled him along the back of the houses.

The two of them crept around like spies, hushing each other whenever their footsteps became too audible. Judith kept low to the ground, stopping dramatically and peering around corners. Jesus watched on with a permanent smile on his face. Eventually, they reached their destination and Judith turned to face him. “Mission accomplished,” Judith said proudly. 

“Always a pleasure, Miss Grimes,” Jesus said with a deep bow. Judith curtsied back. “Now get going before we are discovered,” Jesus said in a hushed tone. 

“Good idea,” Judith whispered back before hugging him again. Jesus squeezed her back and then she skipped off towards her house, most likely going to find her baby brother. Jesus watched after her for a moment before focusing on the task at hand. 

Sneaking around the back of the house, Jesus silently ascended the back stairs and peeked into the window. He spotted her immediately. Gracie was sat at the kitchen table coloring on a piece of paper. Her dad, Aaron, was nowhere to be seen. 

Very gently, Jesus tapped on the window. Gracie looked up from her art and instantly spotted him. She grinned wide at him, waving. Jesus pressed his finger to his lip with a wink and Gracie mirrored his movement. Looking over her shoulder, Gracie got up from the table and moved towards the back door. Jesus met her there and she opened it slowly. “Hi, Jesus!” she said in a loud whisper. Gracie stood aside as Jesus slipped into the house. He pulled off his leather duster and draped it over a chair before turning to the young girl. 

Kneeling down to her level, he offered his hand to her. Gracie gripped it immediately and shook it twice before sliding it back and then joining their hands again to make a wing shape with both of their palms. The secret handshake finished with a snap and then Gracie was wrapping her arms around his neck. “Good to see you, kiddo,” Jesus said, hugging her. 

“Daddy’s in the other room,” she whispered as she stepped out of his arms.

“You wanna help me surprise him?” Jesus asked and Gracie nodded excitedly. Gracie took Jesus’ hand and led him down the hallway of her house.

Aaron had blanketed the walls of their home with Gracie’s artwork as soon as she first picked up a marker. There were also little knickknacks dotted around the home from all the runs Aaron would go on. He always made sure to bring something interesting back for his daughter. Then, of course, there was the wall of license plates that Jesus had always found very endearing. It was just one of those things that made Aaron, Aaron.

Jesus and Gracie were silent as they peeked around the corner, but the living room was empty. Gracie looked up at Jesus, confused. She then let go of his hand and looked towards the small dining area, but Aaron wasn’t there either. Jesus entered the living room, suspicious, and then out of nowhere, he was tackled. 

Gracie yelped in surprise as her dad flew at Jesus, taking him to the floor in a single move. She began laughing as soon as Aaron lifted his prosthetic arm in victory while his other held the other man down. “Finally!” Aaron called out with a laugh. 

“I heard you coming,” Jesus argued, his voice muffled by the rug he was pressed into. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Aaron said with a roll of his eyes. Jesus pushed him back, swinging his leg around, and catching it behind Aaron’s knees. Aaron went down hard and Jesus grinned down at him from his kneeling position. “Letting your guard down once again,” Jesus said, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. Aaron sighed, letting his head fall to the ground. 

“My turn!” Gracie yelled as she jumped onto both men, flattening them instantly. 

“Oh no!” Aaron cried out. “She got us!” Gracie wrapped her arms around both of them as she laughed and Aaron and Jesus feigned exhaustion as they were taken down by the eight-year-old.

“We surrender!” Jesus called, waving an imaginary white flag. Gracie pushed up onto her knees and looked down at both of them, her hands going in the air just as her dad had done moments before. 

“I win!” she exclaimed with a toothy grin. 

“That you did, Gracie girl!” Aaron said, sitting up. “And you know what winners get?”

“Lunch?” she asked hopefully. 

“Heck yeah!” Aaron said as he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to her feet. Gracie reached for Jesus and he let her pull him up off the ground. 

“Okay, when did you get so strong?” he asked her, ruffling her hair. 

“I’ve been practicing all the stuff you showed me last time you came to see us,” Gracie said proudly. She dropped into a defensive stance and Jesus mirrored her. She giggled as she jabbed at him and he took the hit clutching his arm dramatically. Gracie giggled at his fake pain. 

“The two of you hang out way too much,” Aaron said as he watched them with a smile. Jesus winked at him and then Gracie began skipping towards the kitchen. Aaron nodded his head towards his daughter and Jesus followed.

Gracie sat back down at the kitchen table as Aaron went around the kitchen prepping her lunch. Jesus snatched an apple from the bowl on the table and perched on the kitchen counter to watch Aaron make the sandwich for his kid. Aaron looked at Jesus with amusement. “You know, normal people tend to use chairs, Jesus,” he said, pointing to Jesus’ crossed legs. Jesus, however, just happily munched on his snack.

“So, how’s it going around here?” Jesus asked, fiddling with the fruit in his hands.

“Good,” Aaron said, “got a nice amount of crops growing and everyone has been helping out with the harvest. The kids are doing well in school and I think Eugene is trying to increase the distance for our radios.”

“Sounds promising,” Jesus said, running a hand through his long hair. Tara had been trying to convince him for her to let her cut it, but any time she would come at him with scissors he’d go hide in the attic. Nobody was touching his hair.

“What about you? Is Hilltop still good?” Aaron asked and Jesus sighed. 

“Yeah, I mean, we’re managing. Got a good harvest this year as well. And Enid, well she pretty much deserves an M.D. at this point. The girl can fix anything up as you well know,” Jesus said with another wink. Aaron rolled his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. Gracie then interrupted, bouncing on her heels. 

“The other day,” she began, “R.J. found a frog and started chasing us with it.” 

“Why?” Jesus asked, immediately enthralled by the girl’s story. 

“Because Judith said that R.J. was bouncing all over the place and he said that no, he didn’t bounce because he wasn’t a frog. And then I said that frogs don’t bounce and that they hop,” Gracie said. 

“Which, of course, they definitely do,” Jesus agreed, biting into the apple.

“Right!” Gracie exclaimed. “So, after I told him that, he still said they bounced and then he ran away and when he came back he had an actual frog in his hand! I don’t know where he found it but then he started to chase us with it. Judith and I had to hide in Rosita’s kitchen until he left.” Gracie shuddered at the memory of the frog and Jesus had to bite his cheek so he didn’t explode into laughter. 

“R.J. is acting more and more like his dad every day,” Jesus said. “Did you know Rick did the same thing to me when we met?”

“No, he didn’t!” Gracie said. 

“True story, ask anyone,” Jesus said, completely serious. Gracie looked to her dad and Aaron nodded as well.

“It’s true, I was there. But Rick had two frogs instead of one,” Aaron continued. Gracie looked at them in shock while both men nodded to one another. 

“I don’t believe you,” she said, suspiciously. 

“Believe it or not, kiddo,” Jesus said, “but it’s true.” Gracie looked gobsmacked at the information and it brought Jesus a lot of happiness to see it. It was the little things in life. 

“Gracie,” Aaron said, “go wash up before lunch, okay? We’ll talk more about frogs later.” Gracie bounced from the room and up the stairs to do as she was asked. Once his daughter was out of earshot, Aaron put down the food in his hands and turned towards Jesus. “What’s really going on with you? And don’t say you’re fine. I know you, Paul.” Jesus leaned against the wall, looking at the man before him. The humor quickly evaporated from the room as Aaron switched into his “serious mode”.

“I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed,” Jesus admitted. “Tara wants me to be taking charge of all this stuff and I can’t even keep my head on straight. I don’t know why they thought to elect me to lead them.”

“Because you’ve always fought for Hilltop,” Aaron explained. “It was you that convinced Rick to even see that there were other places out there. You were the one who warned us about Negan and the Saviors and you even introduced us to Ezekiel and the Kingdom. Whether you want to believe it or not, Jesus, you were the one to bring us all together. You lit that initial flame.” Jesus smiled softly, looking down at his hands. 

“You know, Rick didn’t much care for me when we met,” Jesus said, laughing.

“He punched me when we first met,” Aaron recalled fondly. “He thought I was trying to lead them into a trap.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jesus agreed. “She’s a lot like him, don’t you think?”

“Judith is definitely special,” Aaron said, knowing where Jesus’ thoughts were. “I wish he could see who she’s become.” Jesus reached out and rested his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

“I miss him too.” Aaron leaned into Jesus’ touch, sighing with content. Their sweet moment was then interrupted by Gracie running back into the room announcing she was ready to eat.

The three of them sat around the kitchen table eating the sandwiches Aaron had provided.

They shared stories of what was happening in both of their lives. Aaron mentioned Eugene was doing science experiments for the kids and Laura and Rosita were teaching the kids how to handle horses.

It was odd for Jesus to listen to what was happening in ASZ. He was trying to catch up with everything all at once. These were the days that he wished Michonne would be a bit more lenient with opening up the gates again. 

He, of course, knew why she didn’t. Everyone knew something had gone down when Michonne’s old friend, Jocelyn, had shown up, but nobody ever discussed the details. Jesus had once wanted to ask Daryl about it but taking one look at his friend’s haunted face, he dropped it and never brought it up again. 

Relationships and friendships of all sorts were being tested in the post-Grimes world, but Jesus was determined to keep the one he had with Aaron and Gracie. They were too important to him to give up.

Looking across the table at the father-daughter duo, warmth swelled in Jesus' chest. It was clear to him then, that not only were Gracie and Aaron family, but they were what Jesus needed to fight for.

Aaron caught him looking and raised an eyebrow at him. Jesus smiled back at the man, kicking him lightly under the table. Aaron's gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer before returning his full attention to his little girl.

"Jesus," Gracie said, "are you scared of the Walkers?" Jesus wasn't surprised by the question at all. These kids, no matter where they grew up, were used to all of the monsters and chaos the apocalyptic world threw at them. Asking about Walkers was just like asking what day it was or what someone's favourite color was. All a part of the new normal.

"It depends, Gracie," Jesus said honestly, "If there are only one or two and I can see them coming then no, but if there are a lot and my friends are in danger, then yes it can be a bit scary." Gracie nodded thoughtfully at his words.

"They scare me," Gracie admitted.

"That’s okay,” he assured her. “It’s never a bad thing to be afraid or tell people you are.” Gracie nodded, happy with his answer, and returned to her food. Aaron was looking at Jesus with admiration and gratitude in his eyes. Since losing so many people, the kids of the communities relied on being raised by the whole village. These moments were what the kids needed the most. All the advice from others and especially people that cared about them as much as Jesus cared about Gracie.

As they finished lunch, Jesus said he had a gift for Gracie.

“Look in the inside pocket of my coat, G,” Jesus said as he popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth. Gracie grabbed Jesus’ duster from the back of the chair and hauled it into her lap. It took her a few seconds, but eventually, her small hand curled around a small object tucked away inside the coat. 

“Daddy, look!” Gracie said, holding up a small key-chain. Aaron looked at it closely before he began howling with laughter. In her hand was a little souvenir Nevada license plate key-chain Jesus had found in an old house a few weeks back. Jesus had thought it was appropriate for Aaron’s little one to have her own collection of State merchandise.

Gracie had the biggest smile on her face as she twirled the little key-chain around her finger. “I’m going to go hang it up next to yours,” Gracie said to her dad as she got up from the table. She quickly ran to Jesus and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Jesus,” she said. 

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said with a smile of his own and watched her skip away. 

“Where did you even find that?” Aaron asked as he cleaned the table.

“I have my ways, Aaron,” Jesus said and Aaron tossed a dishtowel at him with a laugh. 

Once Gracie had added her own little plate to Aaron’s larger collection, she wanted to go outside and practice her cartwheels so that is exactly what they did. 

Aaron and Jesus sat on the back steps while Gracie practiced in front of them. Jesus would call out pointers with every cartwheel, somersault, and handstand she did. Anytime the martial arts master would visit her, he would make sure to teach her something new. Aaron was always grateful as he wasn’t ready to start teaching his kid how to handle weapons. This way, Gracie was learning how to defend herself safely.

Jesus had offered to do this when he noticed Gracie kept asking why Judith was training to kill Walkers and protect people and she wasn’t. While Judith was older, she also had Michonne as a mother who was training her with the sword and she had grown up around fighting and weapons.

In Gracie’s case, she was lucky to be born at the start of the war and hadn’t had to see much combat. Aaron was hoping to keep just a bit more of her childhood intact before handing her a weapon, but both men knew that sooner or later, she would have to learn just as Judith, Henry, and every other kid had to. 

As they watched her tumble around, Aaron reached over and took Jesus’ hand in his own. Instantly, they both relaxed. “I know you worry about her,” Jesus said softly. 

“It’s more than that,” Aaron admitted. “I know that if something happened to me, there are people around that would take her in without question.”

“But?” 

“But she’s already lost two parents and if I were to die, physically she’d be okay, but emotionally? I can’t even start to imagine how she would cope with that.” 

“Aaron,” Jesus said gently, “you can’t let yourself think like that. Yeah, we all know that every time we leave the gates, there is that chance, but we’ve lived through some pretty screwed up stuff and we’ve always come out alive.”

“Not all of us,” Aaron reminded him and Jesus squeezed Aaron’s hand tighter, well aware of all the losses that came from the war against the Saviors and before. 

“Not all of us,” Jesus agreed. “You know I can’t promise anything, but I am going to do my damn hardest to make sure you come home to her every night.” Aaron looked at Jesus and he couldn’t believe he had found someone like him through all of this. After losing Eric, Aaron never thought he would find another person to share his life with and Gracie’s life as well. Paul Rovia had taken Aaron by surprise all those years ago and still, he was fascinated by him every day. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Aaron whispered. Jesus shrugged, lifting their hands and pressing a kiss to the back of Aaron’s. 

“You are way too good looking to be that corny,” Jesus joked. Aaron snatched his hand back with a laugh and Jesus only followed after him. He grabbed Aaron by the chin and pressed a firm kiss to the other man’s lips. Aaron sighed and smiled into the kiss. When Jesus pulled back, Aaron was still grinning. 

“Says the man that goes by the name ‘Jesus’,” Aaron pointed out. Jesus rolled his eyes but smiled back nonetheless. He then dropped his head onto Aaron’s shoulder and watched as Gracie executed a perfect round off, landing with her hands up in a gymnast pose. 

“Did you see that!” she exclaimed, beaming at them both. Aaron and Jesus both clapped and cheered at her accomplishment. Gracie ran towards them and jumped onto them, wrapping each arm around their necks and holding them close. Aaron and Jesus held the girl back, looking at each other with love as they hugged her. 

It was the little moments such as these that made the trek to Alexandria worth it. It didn’t matter if communities weren’t speaking to each other or that monsters walked outside the gates. Right now, at that moment, all that mattered was Jesus hugging his found family. One he would have never found if he hadn’t of ran into Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon that day all those years ago and stole their supplies. Without the Saviors, he would have never fought alongside Aaron and they would have never found Gracie. 

In some ways, Jesus was grateful for everything they had gone through. Their losses made them stronger, their victories strengthened the camaraderie between their people, and everything else in between was just meant to be.

As the three of them sat on the back steps of Aaron’s home, they listened to the musical calls of birds that sang in the trees, reminding them that while the world tried to die, life was still shining through and that was something worth smiling about. 

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