#��no :) you know I have that skin condition right :)’ ‘aha :)) yes of course :))))))’

[bruciemilf]

Need a the Waynes Lived AU where Martha’s a vampire. She snuck in a Wayne Gala for a potential late night snack, but Thomas thought she was a socialite.

“So, what do you do?”

“I drain people of their life sources.”

“Oh, you’re a CEO too?”

She can’t drink Thomas’ blood because he smokes too much, the baggy eyes indicate long nights spent on his feet during surgery, which means it’ll taste bitter, and she saw him drown 10 whiskey shots in one go.

It’s a taste thing, nothing against him.

He is, how ever, very handsome, and she decided she’ll be his house cat for the time being. Fast forward two years later and they have a vampire cherub of a baby named Bruce.

Babies usually don’t come out with fangs and tiny bat wings, so, yeah. His wife’s a vampire. Cool.

“How come I’ve never seen your wife outside during the daytime, Tom??”

“How come I’ve never seen you mind your own fucking business?”

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[glimmerglanger]

getting up (while you’re down)

So, ah, I was inspired to write some goofy getting-together Codywan. Set during the war. Full of misadventures surrounding Obi-Wan’s clothing (or the removal of it, anyway). Dedicated to @mocha-bear, as an apology aha :D. Ended up NOT actually having any spiciness, just a fade to black because that felt fitting with the tone.

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

The galaxy was punishing Cody.

He didn’t know what he’d done, but, then again, in his experience the galaxy didn’t need a reason to exact punishment on someone. Things just happened, and then people had to deal with them.

Currently, he was having to deal with the fact that Obi-Wan had decided to wear his kriffing meditation leggings onto the bridge. He’d said something about Grievous ruining his last pair of slacks but, honestly, Cody hadn’t been listening.

His boots didn’t look quite right over the leggings, but, to be fair, Cody wasn’t really paying much attention to the boots, either. He’d caught looks at Obi-Wan’s legs before, obviously, glimpses when his trousers tore. And he’d gotten used to seeing those legs wrapped up in leggings, when Obi-Wan meditated and sometimes when he sparred.

But Cody had learned how to brace for those times.

He wasn’t prepared to have to focus on the Senate’s new orders while Obi-Wan was standing right there in leggings. 

It was making it hard to concentrate. He knew Obi-Wan had been forced to repeat a question twice, because focusing on answering him meant focusing on the state of his dress and that meant focusing on strong thighs and--

“Commander?” Obi-Wan asked, frowning over at him, head cocking to the side. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes,” Cody lied, because he felt entirely too itchy under his skin and, also, he wasn’t just wearing leggings. The Kaminoans hadn’t been exactly generous with space, when designing their armor. Things were starting to get uncomfortably snug. They’d pinch, if his condition continued to...progress.

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked, and that was when Tektek came into the room carrying caff for everyone, did a double-take in Obi-Wan’s direction, and the universe decided to punish Cody a little bit more.

#

“I’m really sorry, General,” Tektek said, after he tripped on nothing and spilled caff all down Obi-Wan’s back. “Just--I don’t know what happened.” Cody had a pretty good idea what had happened. He’d been in prime position to see Tektek’s head dip down as he took a good look. 

“It’s quite alright,” Obi-Wan said, for the second time, as though he hadn’t just had scalding hot liquid poured down his back. “These things happen,” he added, which was fine and true, except these things happening had him peeling off his outer tunic and grumbling, “Oh, it went all the way through. Would you hold this?”

Cody took his tunic automatically, consumed with the awareness that his General was, in fact, taking his clothes off on the bridge. Which was not… entirely without precedent. The Jedi, for the most part, didn’t seem to have many qualms about nudity or their bodies.

Which was perfectly alright, of course, except that it meant Cody had missed another question, because he’d been busy watching Obi-Wan pull at his thinner undertunic, twisting to look at his back. “What?” Cody asked, feeling like he’d perhaps taken a stunner to the back of the head.

“I said,” Obi-Wan said, looking back at him and arching an eyebrow, “do you think you can finish this up while I go and change?”

“Of course.” Cody wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to handle. His gut said he ought to be handling Obi-Wan, standing there with his thin tunic half-plastered to him, and his leggings and--

“Thank you, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, turning to go, and oh, the caff really had gone all the way through, painting the undertunic to his back, the dip of his spine and the generous, lovely swell of--

Crys walked into a console on the other side of the bridge, swore, and made a pained sound. “Everything alright?” Obi-Wan asked, hesitating, just standing there, and Cody really, truly needed to get his eye-line anywhere other than where it was, but, well.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t know about Obi-Wan’s….physical attributes. It was just that most of the time they were covered up with layers upon layers. There was a physical barrier there to remind him that the things he thought about in his quarters weren’t really...well. Appropriate.

His General had a dimple, apparently, right on the side of his--

“Fine, sir,” Crys wheezed out, waving a hand a little. “Don’t know what came over me.”

“I could help you down to the medbay,” Obi-Wan said, changing directions, concern written all over his expression. “We could have Bones take a look at you.”

“Not necessary,” Crys said, sounding agonized. Cody could imagine why. He wouldn’t want Bones assessing his current condition, either.

“If you’re sure,” Obi-Wan said, with another little frown, and Cody got a clear look at him from the front, and Prime’s wrinkled ass, but that was really no better, no better at all, but at least he was leaving to put some clothes on. 

And that was when the galaxy decided to kick Cody when he was down.

Proximity alarms started going off and Crys yelled, voice getting sharper, “It’s seppies, sir! I don’t know where they came from, but--” The first explosions started, right around then.

#

By the end of the fight, some hours later, Obi-Wan had lost the undertunic. Cody didn’t know where it had gone. All he really knew, lowering his blaster as the last droid fell in a crumbled heap, was that the thin shirt Obi-Wan wore beneath the tunics was barely staying on.

One shoulder had torn when a droid tried to grapple him. It was sort of hanging off of his side, dipping open a little more each time he moved and--

Cody holstered his blaster, firmly, and did his best to holster the thoughts in his head. It didn’t help that the fight had left his blood singing, thrumming along in his veins. It didn’t help that Obi-Wan’s chest was sheened with sweat, or that he was barely breathing hard, or that Cody could see, when he leaned forward, the shift of muscle all down his back.

“--alright?” Obi-Wan asked, nudging him in the shoulder, strands of hair sticking to his face, his cheeks just a little flushed.

Cody managed not to make an incriminating sound by biting his tongue. He nodded, instead of talking, because this was, truly, uncomfortably close to some of the made-up scenarios he indulged in on particularly flustered nights.

He’d been trained to consider all possibilities. To let scenarios play out, to run through them, but he was fairly sure the Kaminoans hadn’t intended him to consider how he might go about pushing his General against a bulkhead after a fight. 

He had anyway.

“Did you get hit?” Obi-Wan asked, the wolfish grin he’d worn at the end of the fight falling away. He stepped a little closer, tugging at Cody’s armor which...did not help matters at all. 

“No,” Cody said, and cleared his throat, because there were freckles, apparently, out on the curve of Obi-Wan’s shoulder and he didn’t need to know that any more than he needed to know about the dimple on his-- “I’m fine, sir.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him. “You don’t seem fine. In fact, you haven’t seemed fine all day. What’s--kriffing hell,” he snapped the last, looking upwards as the universe drew back its foot to nail Cody again, likely directly in the kriffing balls, and the emergency fire suppressant system kicked on above them.

#

“Well, this has been an adventure,” Obi-Wan said, after someone, somewhere finally got the sprinklers to turn off. He was soaked to the skin, undershirt clinging to his skin, gone sheer from the water. 

Cody grunted a reply. It seemed all he could manage, trying desperately not to watch a droplet of water drip off the end of a strand of Obi-Wan’s hair, hit his shoulder, and roll down over his collarbone. Cody felt, abruptly, parched, mouth gone dry and it would be very easy to lean forward and lick that droplet up, but--

It would also be very easy for Obi-Wan to kick him off the Negotiator, afterwards. Still, he considered, gaze slipping helpless downwards, it might be worth it.

“This is ridiculous,” Obi-Wan said, sighing, walking down the hall a step ahead of him. “This entire day has been one misfire after another.” He turned into a room, reaching a hand back and grabbing the collar of what was left of his shirt as he did, pulling it over his head.

And, really, the water had spread the fabric over him like a second skin. It wasn’t like, a moment ago, Cody had been unable to see the line of his spine, the shift and movement of his shoulderblades. But watching him take his clothes off, the reveal of creamy skin, muscle, and darker scars set like little accents, here and there--

Well.

Cody made to follow - he wasn’t sure where they were going, he was just following along - and misjudged the location of the door frame because he wasn’t looking at it, because something had torn the waistband of Obi-Wan’s leggings, and, apparently, the only thing keeping them up was the water or possibly how lovingly tight there were. He walked fully into the frame, cursing at the sudden and unexpected pain across his forehead and cheek.

“Cody?” Obi-Wan asked, turning back and swearing while Cody brought a hand up. “Are you alright?” Obi-Wan demanded, stepping closer before Cody could reassure him that, yes, he was fine.

The words strangled off when Obi-Wan shifted into his space, frowning, reaching up to bat Cody’s hand out of the way. “What happened?” he asked, adding, “Well, you’re bleeding. Here.” And he pressed the tattered remains of his shirt against Cody’s forehead. “Hold this.”

“I’m fine,” Cody managed to say, belatedly, hoping that no one ever heard that he walked into a door hard enough to split the skin because he’d been too distracted by the way his General’s ass looked - firm, dimpled, and oh, it was so easy to imagine gripping - in some leggings. 

Obi-Wan met his gaze, an eyebrow arched, and said, “Obviously not. Come in, I think I’ve still got some bacta in here.”

Which was how Cody found himself standing in Obi-Wan’s quarters, holding Obi-Wan’s shirt against his forehead. Obi-Wan moved over to the little kitchenette, stretching up on his toes to open a cabinet and, well, on the plus side, Cody didn’t really feel the pain in his head.

On the negative side, he didn’t feel it because he was busy trailing his gaze from the line of Obi-Wan’s arm, down his back, to that dimple that he desperately wanted to sweep his thumb over, or, hell, his tongue, and--

“--listening to me? Oh,” Obi-Wan was, apparently, saying. Cody jerked his gaze up, in time to realize that the universe had delivered a parting blow to his ribs. Obi-Wan had looked over his shoulder and was, at that moment, staring back at him, expression unreadable. After a beat, his eyes narrowed and he said, “Wait, all day, have you been--”

“It’s the pants,” Cody cut in, the words springing onto his tongue quite without his permission.

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side, turning, still watching him with that sharp, weighing expression in his eyes, though his mouth had started twitching up in the corners. “There’s something wrong with my pants?” he asked.

“No,” Cody said, because, really, there was nothing at all wrong with them, he loved those pants. “Yes,” he corrected himself, because, Force, maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought. Or maybe the problem was that none of the blood in his body had been making it all the way to his brain for most of the day. “I mean--” He shut his mouth, it seemed the safest way forward.

Obi-Wan mouth curved, just a little. He leaned back against the counter and said, airily, “Oh, well, if they’re a problem, I suppose I could take them off.”

Cody’s gut jerked as he stared across at Obi-Wan, his breath caught and held in the back of his throat, because--

Obi-Wan said, easy, “You could help.”

And Cody decided, abruptly, that mayde the universe wasn’t punishing him at all.

[tartagilicious]

how the mlqc boys would react to the mc proposing first

@3m0t10nal-cr1s1s thank you so much for giving me this godly idea. also have I by chance told you guys how much of a simp I am for lucien?? because i am such a simp for lucien omfg

—

Victor:

- i’m weak for this concept

- naturally, he’d probably figure out what was happening beforehand, though I firmly believe it’d be by complete accident, not because the mc is incompetent in her endeavours or anything

- something importantly would mistakenly be sent to him, whether it be an email or a part of your “big plan” — but no matter what it is, the man’s not dumb. he’ll figure it out

- but don’t get me wrong! that won’t diminish the emotion he gets from the scenario at all.

-everyone is terrified how nice Victor is the day he finds out that she’s planning to propose, but I couldn’t see the mc putting two and two together with just that. his secret’s safe for now!

- when she does propose, it’s completely of her own initiative. victor usually takes her out? not this time. the mc is READY and is a woman on a mission. 

- she’s been ready for this for a long time. after going through so much together, both witnessing each other’s death (and/or near death) experiences, and growing together side by side, there’s no one she’d rather spend the rest of her life with.

- it’d be in a quiet restaurant that she’d been saving up to visit, and then would suggest they go back to souvenir for dessert. he would of course say yes, and there, when baking together, she would pop the question

- it would be casually, as if she were stating the weather, but it makes victor freeze right as he’s wrapping the pastry up in dough. he quietly scolds her for making him mess up while trying to hide his rapidly oncoming blush

- he just didn’t expect her to do it like that

- she would laugh. “did I catch you at the wrong time?”

- to that, he’d exasperatingly pull her into a hug. “is there a wrong timing for this type of thing? dummy.”

- he hugged her as he accepted just so she didn’t see his tears

Gavin:

- because of certain conversations in the past, Gavin was actually content with the possibility of waiting for you to propose first. 

- “whenever you’re ready, you can be my bride.” [gavin’s wedding date]

- yes sir

- and he certainly would keep to that promise. any mention of her wanting to get married, and for lack of better terms, this man would waste absolutely no time to cuff mc lol

- but he’s a patient man. especially for her. 

- Gavin never realised how long it had taken, though, and how much he wanted something more until she showed him the ring underneath the gingko trees at loveland high school one evening. they had come back for what the mc called ‘reminiscive purposes’, only for this to happen and for gavin to mentally kick himself for not realising her intentions sooner. 

- the wind stutters in that moment, flowing soft around them and saying everything that his clamped throat wouldn’t let him

- similarly to Victor, he’d be slightly embarrassed by his reaction, but wouldn’t try to hide it. he wants to be able to see that smile on her face for every second of this encounter

- he’d finally be able to look at her face unabashedly, appreciating every single freckle, line, and imperfection. because to him, she is perfect. 

- this boy is flustered, he’s calm at the same time. his cheeks are red as he smiles back at her, laughing as if he’s holding back tears before joking,

- “you beat me to it, ___.”

- he would give her the longest, tightest hug afterwards right there on the school grounds, not physically able to wipe the smile off his face.

- partly because he’s cradling the back her head with the hand that wears the ring 🥺

Lucien:

- aha, marriage. funny.

- that’s what he would have said before meeting her. back then, all he could think about was the fantasy of loving her, especially knowing that he probably would never be able to. we all want what we can’t have.

- except, for lucien, it was more of a desperate want. he was reminded of it every time he saw her, heard her voice, made her smile, etc etc

- and it was crushing that knowing that it would probably always be love at a distance.

- at least, it seemed that way until things seemed to turn around. she chose to stay with him and trust him even though he had betrayed her, and continued to do so until he had no choice but to fall into what he tried so hard to keep out of.

- lucien is irrevocably in love with the mc. that much became obvious to even her that night he told her everything by her bedside. of course, it wasn’t smooth sailing from there — black swan was still breathing down his neck, and the special task force made it no easier either. but she was finally his, and he thought that was all that mattered

- later into their relationship, he’d be enthralled to know that marriage is actually a possibility for the two of them. 

- when she proposes to him in her apartment one night, he’s quite literally brought to tears. 

- she’d be sitting in his lap, smiling as he plays with her hair as she quietly says, “you know, your engagement ring is in the drawer of my nightstand.”

- Lucien’s fingers would freeze where they are, and he would ask her to repeat herself

- she would do as he asks, and in that moment, the man would literally pick her up to sit straight and give her the most passionate but soft kiss 🥺 he’s a relatively easygoing guy most of the time when it comes to affection, so she’d probably be caught off guard, but ultimately would have no qualms.

- it’s just when tears hit her cheeks that definitely aren’t her own is when she’s surprised

- after a long conversation, he gets up and returns with the ring on his finger, smiling like a fool.

kiro: 

- by the time she’s thinking of getting married, Kiro is well into being a veteran idol

- after everything with BS and the special task force, things settled down considerably for two of them. his identity as helios was never identified to the public for obvious reasons, but he’s not completely gone if you know what I mean ;))

- skdjglsdkf BUT

- kiro is truly delighted when she asks him to marry her. like ready to bounce off the walls happy

- she doesn’t recall ever seeing him smile so brightly — and that’s definitely saying something. 

- mc would probably ask him on one of their vacations, probably at a tropical location. think somewhere like the Maldives.  

 - it’d be in a semi-private spot on the beach right after the sun sets. his skin is glowing with an invisible sheen of sweat that she only notices after he bear hugs her and falls back with her into the sand— asjdsjhgkhsdlfkgjjdsfhjk

-  kiro would kiss her so many times, sweetly on the cheeks, forehead, nose - anywhere on her face he can reach to show his gratitude. his response to her question is clear as day, just like her laughter that rings out in the humid air

- I should write this 

Shaw:

- lmao wtf is this girl doing??

- legitimately is speechless when she shows him the ring she picked out. not because he wants to decline, but because similar to Lucien, he never saw him getting this close to anyone. 

- plus, her proposing to him? confidence is a good look on her.

- the mc and shaw will have been dating for a while, mostly to build up the trust that he so severely lacks from his trauma. but little does she know, she has him in the palm of her hand almost the entire time. the boy is whipped for seemingly one of the first people that’s ever genuinely cared about him . 

- and truthfully, it doesn’t take him long to trust her. he wants to tell himself that it’s because mc is like a butterfly, and definitely not someone that would have bad intentions, but it’s way more than that and he knows it.

- she proposes to him after one of his stages. it’s a relatively big gig, and when he comes out to her afterwards all sweaty and smiles, she just immediately knows that she’s making the right decision. 

- she would have the ring stowed away in a zippered pocket in her handbag, idle for the spontaneous decisions shaw had given her the habit of making. it’s lucky she thought to put it there in the first place, but it worked out nonetheless.

- after he spends a few moments just stunned, he’ll probably joke with her. ask her if she’s asking the right guy and stuff, but would be at a loss for words when she hugs him. shaw is more of an affectionate person that you would think, and doesn’t hesitate to hug her back after letting out a small laugh

- he’ll stroke the top of her head and smile almost imperceptibly, saying,

- “I’ll agree to marry you, but only on the condition that you never leave. got it?”

[queenmuzz]

Mors aurem vellens, 'Vivite,' ait, 'venio'  Chapter III

Firstfruit Offering

The sun shone in your eyes, causing you to flinch.  How long had you slept?  Of course, you’d had a long trip, and your body didn’t have the stamina it used to, but surely you wouldn’t be so negligent as to sleep until mid morning?  But the way the shadows caused by the pillars stretched out on the marble, you had definitely overslept. Using your staff, you almost ran into the inner sanctum, terrified that you had the sacred fire die out.  From your interactions last night, you were almost certain that Vergil was not the type of God to have his rites besmirched.   What a dishonour it would be, to be slain for blasphemy on your first day as Temple Priestess!

Thankfully, the flames still flickered, albeit weakly, eating the last of the log, the embers now almost ash.  

So you gingerly placed another log from your small stash, as to not smother the little flame.  You cautiously began to blow at the base of the charred log, only stopping when the flames began to lick and scorch at the new logs shreds, kindling into a new flame.  With a sigh of relief, you slowly got back up.  In the light of mid morning, the temple, while eerily silent, was less foreboding than last evening, and the whistling wind seemed less strange. 

Even the presence of Vergil, unseen, but ever present was much less terrifying.  You could feel him, watching your every move, but not as overwhelming and less judgemental as last night, you still felt him as you walked back to your messy bedroll.  After all, he could have just struck you down for sleeping in, for almost losing the fire, he was well within his rights as God within his Temple.  But he just remained silent as his shrine statue.

You arrived back to your modest sleeping area, and as you rolled up your bundle, you noticed something. There, sitting at the foot of the bed was a bundle of brown fur. Upon closer inspection showed that there was one...no two...rabbits laying dead.  For a brief moment, you panicked, you had heard of feuding families leaving dead animals in the beds of their enemies as a warning.  But these ones seemed placed at the foot of the bed, and not where you would have noticed them upon waking.  And the way they were positioned, they kind of reminded you of when the barn cats would present dead mice to you and your siblings, as some sort of ‘gift’. Had Vergil given them to you as a ‘welcome present?’ You had to stifle an inward snicker at the mental image of the God carrying the pair of rabbits in his mouth before dropping it at your feet, and you hoped that he didn’t have the ability to read minds.  But, even though you still felt like you were being watched, there was no change in the intensity, and so you relaxed, and allowed yourself to utter out a soft ‘Thank you’ into the still air.  There was a shimmer in the light, the roots of the giant plant seemed to shift slightly, but then, all was silent.  You picked both of the rabbits up, and a knife contemplating on what to do with them.  Skinning them would be the first step of course, but what then?  Roasting them sounded delicious, but you had no time to turn a spit, undoubtedly today would be busy.  But perhaps...a stew?  You had a turnip, and some wild herbs that you’d picked up on your travels.  Unfortunately, a stew was not a stew worth eating without some bread to soak up the juices, and you were practically down to crusts of  bread so stale, that not even an ocean of stew would soften them up....

“Hello?!”  A voice rang out, startling you out of your thoughts.  You placed your knife down and followed the voice.  From what you had heard, no one ever came here, the entire countryside thought  land was cursed, and the temple shouldn’t have any visitors.  Still, it would be rude as Temple Priestess to not greet the person, even if they were lost.

“Hello? Anyone here?” The voice repeated, more louder, and it came from the common area.   Strange, you swore you could smell freshly baked bread.

Ah, there the visitor, a plump, auburn haired woman with a ruddy complexion, dressed in a simple peasant’s dress, carrying a basket, looking around slightly worriedly, and muttering to herself. 

“I do hope nothing bad happened to her, if something did….Enrico, I’m going to...” she growled, but whatever her threat was cut off by your appearance.

“AH!  There you are! When I heard that my Dear'' the faux deference dripped through, “husband left you all by your lonesome here, at NIGHT of all times, without inviting you to spend the night at our farm place, I was THIS close,” she pinched the fingers of her free hand together, almost touching, “to making him sleep with the pigs.  Damn fool…”  she brushed the hair away from her face, and looked around.  “So, I told him that I was going to come here this morning, and that he either come along, or be in charge of all the chores.” She chuckled, “Guess which he picked? He’s so superstitious, he’d rather have to milk the cows, feed the chickens, AND look after our little son than set foot here.  Anyways,” she smiled and gave a curtsy, “I’m Cecilia Elesion, wife of the lovable idiot, Enrico.  And I figured to myself, ‘that poor girl is all by herself, a newcomer, with no one lookin’ out for herself, so I’m gonna take a look out for her.’  Rico begged me not to go, but I insisted.  It’s ‘bout time someone took care of this Temple, it’s been abandoned for ages.” She took a look around, her eyes trailing the roots that wound themselves the pillars. “Ah, yes...I suppose you could call this a ‘Welcome to your new home’ gift.  I made em’ meself!”  She handed you the basket, and the gingham sheet that covered slipped off, revealing several loaves of freshly baked bread, some even designed in a braided pattern.  This wasn’t the leftover scraps of a farm wife's dough, these were the first loaves.  Cecelia was obviously sincere in her devotion.  

“Thank you!” you breathed in the scent as you took the basket.  After months of bread hard enough to crack teeth, warm fresh bread was glorious.  It would make a fantastic addition to the rabbit stew you had planned.  It would be  your first proper meal since you had left your home village.  For an instant, you felt a bit homesick, memories of your mother’s hearty stew.  You grasped her hand in thanks, trying to invoke a blessing, but a familiar chill trickled up your spine, and you felt a whisper in the shell of your ear.

“Ah….it appears she has been blessed by my Mother….” Vergil’s voice nearly startled you, unexpected as it was.  He’d been so content to lurk in the background, that you’d momentarily forgotten about his presence.  You paused for a moment, a frown on your face as you tried to decipher what he said.  Eva’s blessing… AHA!  The generous woman in front of you was with child, even if she didn’t show it, perhaps she didn’t even know it.

“Is something wrong?” Cecelia asked, misinterpreting your frown for a concern.  You hesitated, not knowing how to go around such a delicate subject.  As a child, you remember your mother slapping a man when he asked her when she was expecting, even when she wasn’t pregnant.  Should  you even mention it?  You decided, you  had been given a message from a God, it wouldn’t do to not relay it.

“I am just a little concerned with you going through all this effort, carrying all this load while expecting.”  After all, a pregnant woman shouldn’t exert herself too much.  She should be informed of her condition, in order to prepare herself.

Cecelia’s reaction was unexpected.  She turned pale, and a tinge of fear passed over her face. “You...you could tell?”

Ah, so she already knew.

“Well, I was told,” you admitted, glancing at the statue.  Strange, she should be happy, excited for a new addition to the family, not looking like she was about to burst out in tears.

“No one knows yet, not even Enrico.” she confessed, a sheen of sweat coming over her forehead.  You quickly leant your arm to help her down to the floor. “We’ve tried so hard after our only son, so many losses, that this time… this time I couldn’t bear to  let him know, I didn’t want to get his hopes up once again, only for them to come crashing down.  Our little Credo...he was our miracle child...I had resigned myself to focusing on just him.”  She looked at you, dawning horror on her face.  “He told you?  Does that mean…?”  She couldn’t speak further, the poor woman looked like she was going to pass out.

The whisper came again, without a hint of deception, “I have no claims on her unborn child nor her, not for many years, my Mother shall guide her through both their journeys.”  His words, while spoken firmly and without empathy, were a relief to you.  

Oh, so this was going to be  a Priestess’s job?  You’d always assumed that it would be a rather insular job, tending to the hearth, offering prayers, not relaying messages like the more outgoing Gods’ priests.  You knelt down towards the trembling woman, speaking as soothingly as possible. “It’s alright...He has spoken to me, and he says that you and your child are safe.”  

The woman scanned your face, trying to find out if  you were truly speaking the truth, or just speaking false words of comfort, before the impact of what you had said hit her.

“You’re...you’re certain?”  

You nodded, inwardly relieved as the ruddiness returned to her cheeks.  What you didn’t expect was her hugging you.

“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!”  You swore you could hear your ribs cracking, “A thousand blessings upon you.  You have no idea how much both of us have been praying to Mother Eva for another child, we were almost planning on making a Pilgrimage to Fortuna.  But if you and Him say…”  she looked to you for one last confirmation, and smiled brightly.  “Rico will be delighted when I tell him.  And to think…” her old grin came back, “he’d rather clean up chicken droppings than set foot in this place.”  She looked down at the basket, momentarily forgotten, “this is poor payment, but is there anything, ANYTHING you need that our family can provide, we can do it.”

“Well,” you thought.  In truth, the fact the Temple was located on lifeless ground, meant you were without much sustenance, so maybe… “Wood for the sacred hearth.  I need a supply to keep the flame burning.”

“Say no more,” Cecilia assured you as she got back onto her feet, “you will lack for nothing. We’re just poor humble farmers, but we can provide you and Him the essentials.  Whatever you need!” 

She gave a curtsy to you, paused before the statue, and clasped her hands to speak a short silent prayer.  For a brief moment, you swore you saw the roots quiver, but when tried to take a closer look, they were still.  But something in the air was different, other than the smell of bread, there was a vibration, a smell of fresh earth, but then it was sucked up, like water to a dry sponge.

And with that the woman left, a spring to her step, so out of place in such a dour looking place.

*******

Vergil watched as the little plump woman hurried out, singing a merry tune.  Mortals got far too excited over small things.  While he spoke the truth,  that for now, he had no claims on her or her child, in a short amount of his time, he would claim one, then the other.  That went for everyone, none could escape his reach.  Perhaps that’s why people were afraid of him, that they would attempt to avoid his inevitable arrival to end their pitiful lives.  But this was strange.  That woman had… thanked him?  To him, a God of Death, be given thanks felt...fulfilling.  A surge of energy, more potent than life blood coursed through him, and the Qliphoth’s roots seemed to twitch in response.  

“Well, that was kind of you.”  His sense of puzzlement was dissipated as the voice of his Priestess, who was watching the woman’s receding form. 

He stood beside her, still invisible and scoffed, “She provided an offering, I felt it would be poor form to let her leave without being compensated.” “But you didn’t have to do that.  You made her so happy!” she placed her hands together, “If you did that more often, perhaps more people would visit your temple!”

“And what makes you think I want people to ‘visit’?”

“Well…” she stroked her chin, “I assumed you would be lonely all by yourself here.  After all, that’s what temples and shrines are for, right?  To be a meeting point for both mortals and Deities.  Us mortals give you offerings and our prayers, and you give us advice, prophecies  and sometimes intercede on our behalf.”

She looked outside.  “Where I come from, in the wild forests…packs of monkeys and herds of  deer travel together.  The deer, with their keen noses, lead the monkeys to fresh vegetation with nuts and fruits, and the monkeys, sitting high above the trees, have a good view of the surrounding area and can alert the deer when a tiger is prowling downwind of the herd.  A relationship in which both benefit.”

Vergil was annoyed by her simple observation. “I need none of that.” “Well, you’re the only God I know who doesn’t appreciate or encourage worship.  Lady Trish has people flocking to her for her for rain-bringing storms, Lord Dante practically has entire battalions marching through his temples, praying for victory.  Even poets and writers make the pilgrimage from miles to beg the gift of inspiration from Lord V-”

“DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME!”

The roots of the Qliphoth rippled with energy, and he had to control them from jerking.  Just the mention of that cursed name brought back memories that he could not bear. In response to his rage the roots demanded blood, lifeforce, something to sate their ever ravenous hunger.  And they sensed the Priestess, standing there, so weak and vulnerable.  Easy prey.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke apologetically, but refreshingly not with overly emotional supplication.  Just her calm voice, startled at his outburst but without the expected fear, was enough to let his rage subside.  She stood there, unaware how close she was to death, her eyes staring through him.  She still couldn’t see him, of course, he would not allow it, but her steady and firm stance was  unafraid of his wrath.  Perhaps her expecting death in such a short time left her without fear.  

No, he ordered them to stand down, and they reluctantly complied, she has no idea of what she speaks of, he thought, and besides...she still has more use to me alive than dead...for now.

Still, his rage hadn’t truly subsided…did he really need her, another priest that would eventually stab him in the back? “I need no one.” He hissed, his voice sizzled through the temple like a winter’s wind.  “I need no worshippers….I need no priestess.”

And without allowing her to respond, he left, not even looking back.  She would no doubt leave after his outburst...any sane person would.   He was fine with that.

He did not need her.

He did not need anyone.

All He needed was power.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 7

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The tornado has passed, but the damage must be dealt with. Another visit from your ex makes Loki have to deal with his emotions too. Chapter Warnings: none, I believe A/N: We’re about halfway through now, and I want to thank everyone whose reading and commenting! Hearing your thoughts and seeing that you’re enjoying really makes my day :) Updates every Friday.

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @marvelousdaydreams​ @parkastoria​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Once the storm had passed and it was safe to go out again, your family began to survey your land. Ana had yet to let go of Matt, and he was currently sleeping in her arms. Even though the danger was now gone, the scare had truly rattled her.

“Hey,” you said to Loki. “Do you think you could take Ana into the house and make sure she’s alright? Given her current condition and all that happened, she should probably be resting.”

“Of course,” Loki obliged, giving your hand a final squeeze. Your fingers had been intertwined since you sat talking, neither one of you ready to let go until now. “It would be my pleasure.”

In truth, Loki had nearly forgotten that Ana was pregnant, though she had started showing a little bit more, recently. All things considered, she really should be relaxing, and he was able to convince her without much trouble. The house, luckily, had only taken minimal damages, and Loki hoped that the same could be said for the rest of your land. He wondered if he could use his magic to help at all, but he knew that would probably mean revealing himself, something he was not willing to do. So, he resigned himself to getting Ana settled.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he inquired.

“Loki, you saved my son,” she reminded him, cradling the sleeping boy even closer to her chest. “I should be asking what I can do to repay you.”

“Please, I do not need anything. I am just glad he is alright.”

He rested his hand on Matt’s head, his mind throwing him back into those moments of desperation out in the field. Had he not reached him in time, well, he shudders to think what would have happened to his small friend. Never before had Loki so fiercely wanted to protect someone. Except, of course, for maybe you. The realization caused a flurry of emotions to attack his heart.

“Well, if there ever is anything, anything at all, let me know. I really can’t thank you enough, Loki.”

“You are welcome,” Loki said, the words still tasting strange on his tongue having been thanked so few times in life.

He moved into the kitchen which luckily was on the side of the house that didn’t really take damage, and made her a cup of tea. Looking around to make sure no one could see, the god put an enchantment on it to help calm her even further. After staying to see a serene look wash over Ana’s face, Loki bid her goodbye and went to help everyone else outside.

“How does it look?” he asked Papa.

“The farthest fields took the worst damage, but it’ll be alright. Definitely not the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“That is very good to hear,” Loki said, at this point barely even surprised by how sincerely he cared about all this. “If you need to cut my pay to make up for any damages, I completely understand.”

“Son, I should be raising your pay after what you did for us. We’re gonna be just fine, don’t you worry now.”

Loki forced his smile to seem more genuine than bewildered as Papa pat his back in gratitude. Though he’d craved attention for most of his life, Loki found he didn’t know how to react to it now that he was actually receiving it. However, he did have to admit it felt good to be appreciated. It was something he was quite certain he’d miss when he left. If he left. Because, in all honesty, every second he spent here was a second that convinced him to stay forever.

All Loki really wanted to do right now was check back in with you, so he started in your direction once he spotted you. Unfortunately, Mama decided to stop him on his way. For once, at least, she didn’t seem like she was ready to murder Loki at the drop of a hat.

“Listen,” she began before he could say anything, “I’ll be honest, I still think you’re lying about something. But you saved my grand-baby’s life, so I’ll keep the comments to a minimum. And I suppose you’re welcome here for now,” she added begrudgingly.

Somehow, it made Loki speechless that she would say such a thing, albeit reluctantly. More confusing yet was how happy he was to hear it. He wondered whether it was because of his constant search for approval, or because he cared about this family. Because by now he had to confess he truly did. Whatever last little bits he’d been doubting it were gone now with no evidence to back it up. When he risked his own life for one of yours, it suddenly became clear.

“I... Thank you. I appreciate it,” he finally responded. “And I would not do anything to hurt your family.”

“I really would like to believe that. Perhaps one day I can.”

“I would like that.”

Then he extended his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, she shook it, coming to a sort of agreement to be more civil. It was about time, he thought.

“Need any assistance?” Loki questioned once he’d finally reached you at the nearly decimated chicken coop.

“I think most of the chickens got swept away in the tornado,” you said in a sad tone. “We better round up the remaining ones before they’re gone, too.”

And that is how the God of Mischief ended up chasing a bunch of chickens around the field with you. It was, he had to admit, rather fun, though he was sure he looked absolutely ridiculous. You even convinced to him cluck by saying it would attract them faster. Of course, it was a prank, and you ended up laughing your head off as he chased you around instead of the chickens.

“Aha!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you from behind and lifting you up with his godly strength. “I have caught you. You are mine now!”

“Oh no! What a terrible fate,” you pretended to lament, turning around and wrapping yourself around him. “Too bad you’re stuck with me now.”

“How very terrible,” he continued the bit. “Oh well, I suppose I must deal with it.”

Then you both burst out into laughter, startling a nearby chicken that you had missed. He carried you over to it, and still holding you, bent down and picked up the fowl. After passing it to you, he walked to the make-shift coop you’d been using to contain them. You hopped down from his arms to place it in, but quickly climbed onto his back for a height boost to survey the rest of the farm for stray animals. He was trying to ignore it, but Loki loved the contact with your skin, your warm arms wrapped around his neck, heating up his cold skin. Every inch of him was alive with electric energy.

“Loki,” you said after traveling in silence for a moment, both of you contemplating your complex emotions.

“Yes, darling?”

"You know that if you want to leave, you can. We keep telling you to stay as long as you want, but I don't want to hold you back either. Especially because you mentioned a brother a while ago, I thought you might want to go and find him." You seemed to consider your next words very carefully before continuing. "I really, really don't want you to go, but if it's what you want, I'll be ok."

Loki wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting you to say, but it definitely wasn't that. He wasn't sure what caught him off guard more, the fact that you admitted you didn't want him to leave, or the fact a part of him did want to find his brother. It was, of course, a small part, but it shocked him all the same. While it was true that Thor had never really understood him, he loved Loki. Back when they were children, before they were concerned about competing for the crown and jealousy was not yet in Loki’s vocabulary, they were best friends. A thought Loki seldom dwelled on, but the memories did bring a small smile to his face. That was lifetimes ago, though, and right now he wouldn’t trade anything for the mortal standing before him, a realization that was somehow frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

“It is true that a part of me misses my brother—for I certainly do remember that I had one now—and though I cannot explain it, I am certain that our relationship would not benefit from me showing up right now,” Loki told you, skirting around the truth. He bent down so you could hop off his back, and he took your hands in his. “Please believe me when I say this is where I want to be. I am more than happy with what’s right in front of me.”

“Yeah, this town is pretty nice.”

“That is not what I mean.”

You looked away, flustered by the implication, while Loki’s own heart nearly beat out of his chest. Perhaps if he’d had these feelings before he would be better equipped to handle them now, but for as suave as he liked to think himself, he turned into a nervous teenager around you. Everything he did was very calculated, but for once he found himself moving without thinking. His finger hooked under your chin and slowly lifted your head to look at him while his thumb gently caressed your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat as you took a step closer, almost without planning it, and his eyes searched your face. Unsure of himself and about a million alarms going off in his head, Loki leaned in towards you.

“There you are! Mama said you’d be out here,” Denzel exclaimed as he suddenly arrived. Loki jumped back from you and let his hand drop, staring daggers at the man. Ironic how even when he’d called a truce with Mama she was still interrupting his time with you. “Oh, Loki. You’re here, too.”

“Oh, uh, hi Denzel,” you said in a dazed voice, the kind that one has when waking up from a deep sleep. “Um, how’s your family? I mean, like, after the tornado and everything.”

“We’re all fine, thankfully. That’s why I’m here, actually; just making the rounds. You’re all good here, right? Don’t forget, darlin’, I am a doctor now.”

“I think we’re ok. Loki? You good?”

“Simply marvelous, thank you,” he confirmed, still glaring.

“Ah, I see. Mama had said there was a bit of scare,” Denzel said, turning back to you after acknowledging Loki with a small nod of his head. “She was too upset over it to talk much about it, though.”

“Oh, well, you see, there was a bit of a mix up, and Matt was still out in the fields when the tornado was close. We were all in the cellar already, but Loki ran out and saved him,” you said with sparkling eyes that were looking at Loki with nothing but adoration. “I honestly don’t know what we would have done without him.”

“You did what!” Denzel shouted, now giving Loki his full attention. He composed himself and let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “That took guts, man. Thanks for saving the little guy.”

“Certainly,” Loki said as if it had been nothing. Well, for a god it kind of was, at least in the sense of what it physically entailed. “I would do anything for this family.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Loki? You’ve done more than enough,” you reassured him as you began to get lost in his eyes again.

“You know,” Denzel interrupted the moment, his voice suddenly taking a bit more of a hostile tone, “you look awful familiar, Loki.”

“Well, as I am sure you remember, I do have amnesia,” Loki shot back without missing a beat, this particular lie even easier to tell than all others at this point. “It is quite possible we met, but I would not be able to remember it.”

“Mhm, right.”

He didn’t press any further, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Though he knew it would have been best to look away so Denzel couldn’t suddenly recognize his face by studying it, Loki’s pride would not allow it. Instead, he tried to look innocent, though that had never been his strong suit, and a little bit defiant and tough, too.

“Was there anything else you needed?” you inquired after clearing your throat.

“No, no, I suppose not. If you’re all good here, I should probably be moving on,” Denzel replied, his attention finally snapping back to your face.

“Do you need anything for the road?”

“Nope, I’m fine, darlin’. Stay safe, ok?”

Then he gave you a quick hug goodbye that made Loki’s heart scream in jealousy. The desire to whip out a dagger from one of his inter-dimensional pockets was overwhelming, if not to stab the man, then to at least scare him off. Logically, though, there was no way he could do that, so he settled for watching him disappear into the distance as he walked away, leaving the god in peace with you once more.

“You alright?” you asked, laying a hand on his arm and gasping as a thought occurred to you. “Was he familiar to you, too? Did you remember something?”

Again, Loki had the vague notion to say yes and take his leave, letting you go back to your life. But now more than ever he knew that wasn’t really what anyone wanted. Anyone whose opinion he cared about, anyway. He remembered what you’d said but hours ago in the storm cellar. You didn’t think your life would be the same without him in it, and he knew he felt the same way about you. Despite all the problems his feelings for you caused in his mind, you also saved him. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel so alone, so misunderstood. Perhaps if he knew a mortal had that power, he wouldn’t have spent so much of his life scorning Midgard.

“Still no, but in a way, I am thankful for that.”

“Oh? How so?”

Loki took a deep breath and decided there wouldn’t be a much better time to lay all his cards on the table. He said, “You see, if I were to remember, then I’d have to leave. I know I could, in theory, return, but you know as well as I it would most likely not be the same. And I truly meant what I said before: This is where I want to be.”

Ok, so perhaps he did not lay all his cards down, but he had very few left now. A terrifying prospect now that he’d realized it, especially because whatever had possessed him before was gone now, and he could not find the courage to move towards you. Luckily, he did not need to.

“I know, but you really will always be welcome here. You’re one of us now. And,” you shyly added, taking another step closer to him so that your bodies were mere inches apart, “maybe it’s selfish, but I’m kinda glad you don’t remember. Because I meant what I said, too. I really don't want you to go.”

You hesitated for a moment, almost coming to a decision, but there was still uncertainty in your eyes. So, instead of doing what you both really wanted to, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, trying to convey just how much you wanted him to stay. His hand absentmindedly stroked your back, too many thoughts running amok in his head for him to pay much attention to that simple action. The silence was interrupted by a faint clucking in the distance.

“Well,” you said, untangling yourself from his arms. “Looks like we’ve got some more chickens to catch. You up for it?”

“With you,” he said, resisting the urge to reach for your hand again, “I am up for anything.”

[awreckfics]

Day 1

Okay, my writuary game is slow but I’m getting there. The first prompt was fresh. The characters I drew from my mug were Bossuet and sister Simplice, so here’s the tale.

“Okay, okay, everyone! Let’s calm ourselves!” Grantaire held up his hands until his friends’ cheering subdued. “Now, who wants to start the game?”

The question, of course, prompted another minute or two of intense shouting – he should have seen that one coming, really – but in the end they settled on Enjolras, because he was their leader after all and Grantaire might have influenced them a little when he suggested it rather loudly and enthusiastically bt who was he to say it for sure.

Grantaire’s hands were almost shaking from excitement as he searched the papers for the question, belonging to Enjolras’s chosen number.

“Ha!” he shouted enthusiastically when he had finally found it. “This is a good one. When did our lovely Bossuet first go bald? Give me an age, Apollo!”

“Well” Enjolras looked down at the tea he was holding in his hand, clearly thinking. “I think he lost all of his hair when he was twenty-two. So then?” he looked up at Grantaire expectedly.

“Is that a question?” he asked, pulling up one eyebrow.

“No” Enjolras answered much more certainly this time.

“Hah, you’re wrong!” Grantaire and Joly shouted at the same time.

“Bossuet went bald once, long before” Grantaire nodded seriously. “At the delicate age of fifteen…”

~~~

September 2011

Bossuet was running as fast as he could. At least, he would get a nice warm up before he even arrived, he told himself as he sprinted down the streets, his packed backpack jumping against his back at every step.

He wasn’t a slow runner. With his bad luck, he simply couldn’t be. Just that afternoon his cat had decided to lay down on the floor right where he was about to put his foot, while he was attempting to carry a warm mug of coffee up to his room. So, he ended up having to somehow get his cat to let him wash out the coffee from her fur, which lasted way too long and now he had to run to get this bus and he really, really needed to get this bus.

Right when he was about to reach the last corner, the bus he was supposed to take blew past the street. Without him.

He slowed down, panting. He ran a lot and he ran fast. All for nothing. He let out a long, suffering sigh as he leaned against the nearest fence. Why can’t just one day go well for him? He was about to reach for his phone to text Grantaire that he was going to be late, when a voice from behind him disturbed him.

“Watch out young man, that paint is still fresh.”

“Wha-?” he twirled around to see a nun at the other side of the bright blue fence he was leaning against, holding a bucket of blue paint. Bossuet’s eyes widened as he reached up to touch the back of his head, where he felt something sticky and wet in his hair that made him grimace, expecting the worse. And sure enough, as he pulled his hand back his fingers were stained. Light blue against his dark skin. “Oh, no, no, no, not today!” he muttered as he turned around. “How bad it is?” he asked the woman over his shoulder, clinging to some bizarre idea that maybe the situation wasn’t as bad as he was imagining it.

“I never lie, son. It’s pretty bad” came the answer Bossuet was afraid of.

“No! This can’t be happening. Why today? Can it be washed out?”

“It is a blend made to survive a large variety of weather conditions. I don���t think so” the woman answered, then Bossuet heard keys turning in the little gate at his left and the opening of the hinges. He didn’t turn to see the nun exiting the garden, he stared ahead of him, fighting back his tears.

“Is there somewhere important you need to be right now?” came the gentle question, now from his side.

“Well, I…” the boy started, but he choked up before he could get any further.

“It’s okay, son” the woman placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep it in, it will make you feel better.”

“What?” Bossuet asked, forcing his sobs back, though he knew perfectly well what the woman meant. Joly had told him the same, many times.

“The crying” the nun answered none the less.

“I know, I just…” he started before he had to stop to take a few breaths. “Don’t wanna cry on the street.” he finally managed to get out.

“Then come back inside. The bus is not coming for a while and we can see what we should do about your hair.”

“Really?” he looked down at the woman, finally letting the tears to slide down his face.

“Sure, come in!” she smiled.

“So, what is this place?” Bossuet looked around at the tiny corridor, already with a steaming mug of tea, which the nun made for him in an also tiny but pristine kitchen.

“It’s a safe house for homeless people” the nun answered from the little room she had been searching through for a while. “It’s still warm outside, so we don’t have many people in today. It was the perfect way to paint the fence.”

“Just the perfect day” Bossuet murmured under his breath. Just his luck, really.

“Aha, I found it” she rose to her feet after rummaging through some boxes on the ground, holding up a razor. “There are always a few items that get left here. Anyone can take whatever they want from here and…” she paused to look at the item in her hand. “Oh, I see why no one wanted to take this though. It doesn’t seem to change settings, so it can only shave at one length.”

“It’s on zero, isn’t it?” Bossuet asked, surrendering himself to his fate.

“Yes, it is. Do you still want to do it?”

“Well…” Bossuet bit his lips nervously, mentally arguing what would make the better impression, showing up bald or with bright blue paint in back of his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I think it will be better that way.”

“So, what is the big occasion?” the nun asked over the buzzing of the razor against Bossuet’s scalf.

“What?” Bossuet looked up from his phone, distractedly. “Oh, it’s the audition for the basketball team in my high school. You see, I have a really bad luck” he started to explain, since he could imagine the bewildered look that must be on the woman’s face. “I know probably no one else is freaking over about their hair before a basketball team try out, but I was never chosen to go to sport competitions in my elementary school, since all my teachers were familiar with my bad luck. They usually didn’t even let me play, because they were afraid, I would slip and accidentally kill myself, or stuff. But now I’m going to a whole new school and I want to make a good first impression and I can’t do that if it’s radiating off of me that I’m a disaster.”

“And will you be able to make it there in time?”

“My friend just said he will make sure the coach stays there until I arrive” he held up his phone as a proof.

“I see. We are finished” she declared and shut off the razor. “Do you want to look in a mirror?”

“No, I’d rather not” Bossuet grimaced a bit as he got up.

“I can see why” the sister nodded, which was not calming at all, but well, it was too late anyway.

“Now come on, you need to get moving, you have a basketball audition” the sister declared as she quickly swiped together Bossuet’s hair from the ground at placed it in a nearby bin. “I’ll take you with my car. I’m sister Simplice by the way. You shouldn’t sit in a person’s car if you don’t even know their name, even if they happen to be nuns.”

“You could still kidnap me if you wanted to, even though I know your name” Bossuet remarked as he followed Simplice outside to a quite unremarkable, beat up little Citroen.

“You are correct” the sister answered simply, as she got into the driver’s seat.

“I’m Bossuet by the way” he added as he got in after her.

~~~

“Did you get into the basketball team though?” Courfeyrac turned to ask Bossuet after Grantaire had finished telling the over the top tale of how Bossuet lost his hair when he was fifteen.

“Yeah I did. I didn’t manage to convince the coach that I wasn’t a disaster though. I mean I barged in there an hour late, bald” the man in question laughed.

“How did you manage to convince the coach to stay there for that long?” Feuilly turned to Grantaire.

“Well, it wasn’t so much my words that convinced him, rather me climbing up to the top of one of the ropes and refusing to come down until he looked at my friend’s game. See these guns?” he flexed his biceps. “That’s right, I got these for friendship!”

“Wait, wait” Jehan hold up a hand when the laughter Grantaire’s words had caused died down. “How did the haircut look?”

“Terrible” Joly answered with a flat face. “I made him promise never to go bald again.”

“And here you are, nine years later, dating good bald me” Bossuet smiled, showing the top of his head into Joly’s face.

“Makes me wonder which of us really has the universal bad luck” he muttered, pouting until he got a kiss from his boyfriend to make up for his baldness.

first chapter || next chapter 

[parvatiholcomb]

the (current draft of the) first half of the big convo between phineas and leah under the cut

“This is unusual,” says ADA. “Hello, Dr. Welles. I hope you aren’t here to involve the Captain in an irrational scheme.”

Phineas has neither the breath nor the time to answer. He heads straight for the stairs leading to Leah’s quarters— and nearly crashes into the metal door suddenly barring the way. His heart pounds in his ears. “Blast it, ADA—“

“The Captain has requested that her sleep only be interrupted for medical emergencies.” ADA’s tone is just short of menacing. “Is this a medical emergency?”

“It’s an urgent matter.”

“On a scale from ‘spilled Zero-Gee’ to ‘Monarch imploding’, how urgent is it?”

Phineas stops short, crisis temporarily forgotten. “What kind of scale is that?”

“The Captain devised it herself. I admit, the lack of numeric reference points makes it difficult to use. I’m still mastering the finer points of it.”

“It’s an eight,” Phineas hazards.

ADA deliberates in silence. Phineas’s answer must prove satisfactory, because the door at last slides open with a hiss of pneumatics. “Very well. I’ll wake her.”

By the time Phineas reaches the top of the stairs, Leah is leaning against her doorway, waiting for him. She’s bundled up against the cold, in fleece pants and an oversized sweater, and something about her appearance is off. Her armband, Phineas realizes. She isn’t wearing it.

“What the hell’s going on?” asks Leah, blearily. She looks him up and down. “Law, how many stimulants are you on right now?”

“That isn’t relevant,” says Phineas, waving off the question. “I need to speak to you about a sensitive matter.” On the last two words, his eyes flick up to the ceiling meaningfully. He (seventy-three percent) trusts ADA herself, but recordings can be hacked; sensors can be hijacked. Until he and Leah decide on a course of action, it’s best to ensure any prying eyes remain in the dark.

“ADA,” says Leah, “can you give us some privacy?”

“Yes, Captain. I am capable of performing that action.”

“Okay, let’s try that again. ADA, turn off all surveillance devices outside the bridge until I ask you to turn them back on.”

“Understood, Captain. Please be advised that if you are crushed under a falling object while my sensors are disabled, I will be unable to detect that you require help.” An ostentatious sequence of three descending beeps plays from the ceiling, signaling ADA’s compliance.

“Accidental cyanide poisoning couldn’t have killed Dr. Miller,” says Phineas without preamble, now that they’re alone. “I examined his genome, and within it, I found the ability to taste and smell cyanide. It would have been impossible for him not to notice that his respirator was broken.”

Leah stands up straight, eyes alert, all her tiredness sublimating like naphthalene at room temperature. “Why the hell were you looking at his genome?”

“He wouldn’t be the first scientist the Board has assassinated through a staged lab accident. I started investigating as soon as I learned of his untimely death. At first, I thought I was merely being paranoid— but I was right. Dr. Miller’s death isn’t the simple case it appears to be.”

Leah sighs, touching her fingers to her forehead in an infinitely exhausted gesture. “The Board had nothing to do with it.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because I know who did it.” She holds up a hand to keep him from interrupting. “It’s been handled. Before you ask, I can’t tell you who it was. And before you ask the next question, I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you, either. All I can tell you is that there’s nothing more for you to investigate.”

“Do you think I could have survived thirty-five years as an outlaw without learning discretion? Whatever you’re trying to protect me from, you don’t need to.”

“It isn’t about protecting you. I’m asking you to trust me on this, Phin.”

“I’m man of science. ‘Trust me’ isn’t enough of an answer, not even from you. If you won’t tell me, then I’ll be forced to continue investigating, whether you want me to or not.”

For a long moment, she holds his gaze, and no one speaks. Finally, shoulders slumping, she folds. “He wasn’t murdered.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that, can you? You just admitted it wasn’t an accident.“

“It wasn’t murder, and it wasn’t an accident. Johan… turned off his respirator himself. He messaged me the night he did it. Explained his reasons, asked me to keep it a secret. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. It was his last request.”

Leah isn’t making any sense. What she’s describing simply isn’t possible. Miller wasn’t a thief; he wouldn’t rob—

There it is: another damned splinter of Board conditioning Phineas can never extract. He was raised by Spacer’s Choice parents in a Spacer’s Choice town; propaganda was spoon-fed to him with his baby food, and one of the flavors was Rizzo’s Purpleberry Suicide Is Theft. Only the Hope’s colonists are free from that corruption. Only they can fix things.

And Miller knew that. He wouldn’t just abandon the colony. “Is that message the only evidence?”

Leah blinks at him. “Evidence?”

“I don’t doubt you believe what you’re saying, but I’ve dealt with the Board’s machinations for much longer than you have. Forgery is child’s play for them. They’re terrified of you after what you did at Tartarus, and they’re right to be. They would stoop to any means to throw you off the scent.”

“Phineas. He killed himself. That’s all.”

“Aha! Don’t you see? That’s precisely what the Board wants you to believe. Think about it logically, for a moment: Dr. Miller’s work was among the most successful of any researcher in Halcyon. What possible reason could he have for choosing to stop?“

Leah stares at Phineas, dumbfounded, as though he just declared that the speed of light is saltuna. Not simply an incorrect statement, but one so fundamentally wrong about the nature of reality that the listener doesn’t know where to start with corrections. Finally, she says, “You know about his kids. We were both there when he woke up.”

Phineas has a vague memory of Miller, minutes after dehibernation, mentioning something about the family he left behind on Earth: two daughters and three sons (or was it three daughters and two sons?) and a dozen grandchildren. The specifics hadn’t seemed important at the time. But now, Phineas — not a father, not a family man, and not accustomed to stepping outside himself — pauses to consider what the loss would feel like. A thought experiment. Leah, he supposes, is the closest analogue. If she were to die—

Multiply that by five, all at once, and Leah’s hypothesis becomes a sickeningly plausible alternative to murder. “But he lived with that reality for five months. What changed?”

“A few months back, he thought he found one of his grandkids’ names on a colony ship manifest from Dashkova. But two days before he died, he found out it was a different Jozefein Miller. They just happened to have the same name and be the same age. He… couldn’t handle it anymore, after that.”

Another plausible answer. There must be a flaw somewhere, if only Phineas can find it. “Dr. Miller wasn’t indentured. He didn’t have a body price. Why use such elaborate means to conceal his own suicide?”

“You,” says Leah, softly. “He knew how hard you worked to save us, and how much faith you put in us, and he didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’re certain of this?” asks Phineas, his stomach dropping to somewhere in the vicinity of Terra 2’s mesosphere.

“I’m certain. He was in a bad place for a long time. None of us want to disappoint you, Phin, but—“

“I failed him, didn’t I?” asks Phineas, unable to hear Leah over the wave of nausea rolling over him. “If I’d found the solution to reviving you all sooner, his children would still be alive. He would still be alive.”

Leah gasps — a sharp, broken little sound — and she puts her hand on Phineas’s shoulder, gentle and firm all at once. “No,” she says. “Look at me. Look at me. That isn’t your fault. We’re only here because you refused to give up on us. You dedicated your life to saving us. Just you, alone. You did everything you possibly could.”

“That’s what I can’t stand. I did my best, and it wasn’t good enough.” Phineas swallows down the lump in his throat, unable to meet her gaze. “I wasn’t good enough.”

Without warning, Leah pulls him into a hug he doesn’t deserve, pressing her cheek to his chest. She’s a wall of living warmth, proof that his failure wasn’t total, and his arms hang uselessly at his sides. He possesses the physical strength to push her away, but not the moral strength. “You were. What you did was a miracle, and you did it with no help from anyone. With the Board trying to hunt you down. You can’t blame yourself for not doing it sooner.”

She’s wrong, wrong, wrong. “Why can’t I?” Guilt fills Phineas’s lungs like water; crawls under his skin like Monarchian parasites. He doesn’t deserve her comfort. He doesn’t deserve any of this. “Dr. Miller is dead because of my failures. Dozens of colonists are dead because of—“

Phineas catches the confession halfway through, but it’s too late. Leah breaks the embrace quicker than if he’d turned into a mantisaur, and she backs up one step, then two. “What are you talking about?”

He should lie to her. Say that he meant the colonists whose hibernation chambers UDL stole for their Lifetime Employment Program research. He opens his mouth to tell her just that, and from far away, he hears himself say, “You weren’t the first colonist I attempted to revive. You were my first success.”

Leah takes another step back, her expression inscrutable, and Phineas waits for her reply like a prisoner waits for the firing squad. This must be what the colonists’ tachypsychia feels like: one moment, stretched into eternity. He’s hyper-aware of everything: his heartbeat, the stale taste of recycled air, the cold spots on his back from the loss of contact. He tries not to imagine Leah throwing him off the Unreliable, starting the engines—

“If we’re really gonna talk about this,” says Leah, “we should sit down.” Without waiting for a reply, she walks past him, heading for the stairs to the third level of the ship. She doesn’t look behind to see if he’ll follow.

A moment later, he does.

[onebadpunchline]

The Never Wilting Flower Crown

Asriel was being unusually chipper that day, which was saying something. The monster prince was normally filled with nauseatingly optimistic energy. But today, it was worse than usual. Chara wondered if he had forgotten someone’s birthday or some important monster holiday.

“C’mon Char,” Asriel ushered him along, pulling him by the arm. Chara wiped his eyes, still half asleep.

“Uh...could this not have waited until noon?”

Asriel gave Chara an are you serious? face, “Dude, it’s almost two in the afternoon.”

“Fine. Change my previous statement to five.”

“Told you that you shouldn’t stay up ‘till three in the morning playing super smash bros.” 

“You would have stayed up as well, if you hadn’t fallen asleep right in the middle of the game.” Chara teased, enjoying Asriel’s flustered reaction. 

Asriel bleated in indignation. Chara was absolutely thrilled at the chance to tease Asriel for his goat-like habits, but as he opened his mouth, Asriel led them down a different corridor. 

Chara raised an eyebrow, “Why are we heading to the gardens?”

“I have a surprise for you!” Asriel declared cheerfully.

“You? A surprise?” Chara was dumbfounded. “You actually managed to keep something secret from me?”

“Yes,” Asriel sounded absurdly proud of himself. 

Chara was a little proud as well. Asriel was positively terrible at keeping secrets. He had gotten them into trouble many times with their mother because of his inability to keep their schemes to himself. Perhaps Chara was starting to rub off on him a little. 

They made it to the gardens, which was one of Chara’s favorite places in the castle. Every plant imaginable grew there, including some magical ones. The only plant missing were Echo Flowers, which seemed to only be able to grow in Waterfall. The plants grew all over the ground and up the stone columns, almost reaching the open ceiling. Holes from the cavern ceiling above them allowed natural sunlight to shine down on the garden.  

The royal gardeners were swarming around the gardens. Chara had learned early on that what he thought were bees were actually small monsters that resembled large bees. He had to apologize for swatting at one during his first visit to the gardens.

One of the royal gardeners bowed at them as they passed. “My princes,” the bee monster buzzed.

Asriel nodded his head in acknowledgment. After a moment, Chara did the same. He was still unused to being called a prince. His official coronation as a prince of monsters was still a few days away. However, that didn’t stop many monsters from already referring to him as their prince.

“So what is this surprise?” Chara asked, trying not to seem too interested.

“Uh-uh,” Asriel shook his head, causing his ears to flop. “I’m not telling you. It’d ruin the surprise.”

Chara pouted. He did not like not knowing things. However, Asriel looked absolutely excited, so Chara supposed he would let him have his moment. 

Asriel led him to the back of the gardens, where the head gardener, Apoidea, was watering some buttercups. She was supposedly the mother of all of the  bee monsters. She was older than Asgore, having served his father. When she wasn’t hunched over, she stood at over six feet tall. She was human shaped with bee features, with her black and yellow skin, and antennae.  

She smiled around her mandibles, “Hello, my little princelings.” Her voice, like the other bee monsters, had an underlying buzzing tone in it.

“Hi, Apoidea.” Asriel greeted, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Can you bring out the surprise.”

Apoidea frowned, “Princeling, that is supposed be revealed at the human’s coronation.”

“Aha!” Chara exclaimed, pointing at Asriel. “I knew you couldn’t keep anything a secret. You’re trying to spoil it right now.”

Asriel turned beet red. “Do you want to see it or not?”

“Of course,” Chara admitted without an ounce of shame. “I won’t leave it alone now until I know what it is.”

“Please, Apoidea,” Asriel begged, using his puppy dog eyes. “Can’t we just have a peek?”

Apoidea sighed, “I have never been able to resist those eyes. Wait a moment.” She released a series of buzzing noises. Some of the gardeners stopped, and flew off. They returned moments later, carrying what appeared to be a flower crown. They gave it to Apoidea before flying back to their work.

“A flower crown,” Chara raised an eyebrow. “That’s the big surprise? We make when Mom and Dad force us to have family time in the gardens.”

“But this isn’t an ordinary flower crown!” Asriel protested.

“No?” Chara said, doubtful. It sure looked like a flower crown to him.

“The princeling is right,” Apoidea confirmed. “This crown is meant for your coronation.”

That peaked Chara’s interest. This was the crown he was to be given when he officially became a prince? It was made out of his favorite golden flowers. But then he frowned. He had hoped that he would be given a crown that would last, not one that he could only wear for a week at best.

“That’s not even the best part,” Asriel’s excited outburst broke Chara from his melancholic thoughts. “This is a magic crown!”

“Magic?” Chara was still getting used to the fact that magic even existed. It was a complete culture shock to see monsters use it so casually in their everyday lives. Pretty much everything in the Underground involved magic in some way.

“That’s right, my princeling to be,” Apoidea said. “I enchanted it myself. This flower crown shall never wilt. It shall remain as beautiful for all of eternity.”

Chara stared at the crown, his eyes wide.

“It was my idea,” Asriel proclaimed proudly. “Mom and Dad wanted to get you one like mine, but I thought you’d like this better.”

He turned to Asriel, frowning, “But you already gave me a gift.” He pulled out his heart locket from underneath his shirt.

Asriel tilted his head, “Yeah, but I can get you more than one gift, Char. Showing how much you care doesn’t get cut off after one act.”

Chara didn’t have much to say to that. He reached out to touch one of the petals, but Apoidea pulled it back.

“It was only a peek,” She reminded them sternly. “You’ll have to wait until your coronation to actually wear it.”

“Aww,” Asriel whined.

Chara put his hand on the goat boy’s shoulder, “It’s alright Azzy. I don’t mind waiting.”

“So, you were surprised?” He looked so hopeful.

Chara smiled, “Yes, I was. It was a very pleasant surprise.”

Asriel cheered. Inwardly, Chara matched his enthusiasm. He couldn’t wait for his coronation.

                                                                -

Shnk cher, shnk cher, shnk cher.

Frisk groaned, putting the shovel down. “Why am I digging this up again?” She asked the apparition floating beside her.

Chara huffed, “I told you. There is something that I want. Now, keep digging.”

“Keep digging, he says,” Frisk muttered, resuming digging into the flower patch underneath the giant gaping hole above her head. “My name’s Chara, and I’m the boss of everything.”

“I can hear you.” He said, annoyed.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be quiet.”

“Just keep digging.”

So she did, grumbling to herself. Chara was always odd, and he hardly ever told her his reasons behind doing things. However, at times like this, his refusal to explain himself infuriated her.

Chunk

Her shovel hit something. She took some of the dirt off of it to reveal the skeletal remains of a hand.

Frisk screamed, scrambling back out of the hole she had made.

“Why am I digging up a skeleton?” She screamed. “Are we freeing some of Sans’ relatives?”

Chara made a disgusted face, “As if we’d do anything for that trash bag. No, this isn’t a monster.”

“Oh, so we’re digging up an actual skeleton,” Frisk said dryly. “That makes it so much better.”

“Find the head.”

“Wha-ARE YOU CRAZY? I’M NOT TOUCHING ITS HEAD! THAT’S CREEPY!” Frisk yelled.

“Oh, for the love of...would you just do it?” Chara snapped. “Or give me control and I’ll do it myself.”

“Oh, uh-uh mister,” Frisk glared at him. “We are not doing that creepy possession thing again. This is my body and I’ll keep it, thank you very much.”

“Then just dig it up.”

“Ugh, fine.” Frisk would rather deal with a dead head than risk Chara trying to wrestle control from her again.

It took some maneuvering, but Frisk managed to brush the dirt off of the skeletal head. It was completely decomposed, leaving nothing but the white of bone behind. Except, the skeleton seemed to have a crown of flowers resting on its head.

“What this?” Frisk picked up the flowers, brushing the dirt off of them. They were pretty golden flowers, and surprisingly in well condition.

“It’s a flower crown,” Chara informed her. “I thought even an idiot like you would have known that.”

“HEY!”

“Let’s go back to the house before anyone notices we left,” Chara said, turning around.

“Wait a minute,” Frisk cried out. “Aren’t you going to tell me who this is or what this was about?”

“No. Now, let’s go.” He floated off.

Frisk groaned in frustration. Why was Chara like this? She climbed out of the whole, tucking the flower crown carefully underneath her arm. She turned back to look at the skeleton.

“Whoever you are, I hope you didn’t suffer,” She prayed quietly. “I hope you’re at peace.”

With that, she took off after Chara.

[externally-upset]

1-100

Alright going all in I see. Let's do this

1. I mainly use Spotify

2. I try and keep it clean but somehow always winds up messy

3. I've got brown eyes

4. y'know I've got a really generic name but I do like it. Why, I have no idea

5. I'm currently single

6. Scatterbrained, happy, adventurous

7. I've got natural black hair

8. So I don't drive because it actually hurts my leg to drive. Also I can't sit still for longer than 5 minutes

9. I shop everywhere that has toys lmao. I'm a toy collector so I'll go anywhere that has em

10. I don't really have a style. I try and live my life as cozy as possible

11. I don't really have a favorite social media account

12. I have a full/queen size bed

13. I've got lots of siblings. In all, I've got 6 sisters and 2 brothers, but some are step family. I've got 1 bio sister and 1 bio brother, both younger than me.

14. I've been looking into moving to Washington recently, but I think I'd rather travel the world than settle down somewhere, for now at least

15. I don't use the filters myself so I can't speak on that

16. I don't use makeup so I don't have a fave brand to talk about

17. I shower everyday, I get really sweaty so I gotta

18. I don't have like a definite fave TV show. It varies from month to month. Although this summer it was Nisekoi, which is an excellent anime

19. I wear a size 11.5/12 shoe

20. I'm 5'11

21. I wear almost strictly sneakers

22. I don't go to the gym, I should though. I really should

23. Dream date would be to have one lol, um I guess to go up to the mountains together and star gaze or something to do with the mountains. I just enjoy being outside

24. Too much to count 💸💸 lmao jk I've got $60

25. Ain't wearing any but if someone came through right now, I'd put some black ones on

26. I had four, but my mom stole 2 of them

27. I was working in drywall for awhile but I hopped out of that and am currently applying to places. I specifically was a taper, so like when drywall is put up in the house, there are gaps between the pieces put up. I covered those gaps up, all over the house. It doesn't seem like a lot but when you've got 15-20 feet ceilings, it gets hard

28. I've got quite a lot of friends and I love them all

29. I've know I've done bad stuff that others remember me for but I can't think of anything

30. Oh man I loooooove lavender scented candles. Lavender scented anything is the best

31. I honestly can't think of any boy names that I like

32. 3 girl names: Sochi, Lavender, and Laurie, which is actually the name of one of my best friends

33. Anthony Hopkins is my favorite actor by far

34. Fave actress is definitely Meryl Streep, I fell in love with her when I first saw the Devil Wears Prada years ago and it just snowballed from there

35. My celeb crush is either Bonnie Wright or Jessica Keenan Wynn

36. Fave movie has gotta be The Great Mouse Detective

37. I used to read a lot, not so much anymore. Of everything I've read though, Christine by Stephen King has been my favorite read

38. Everyone wants to say brains are more important and they are, but unfortunately in the world we live in money rules over all

39. I used to be called Chancho but not any more

40. I've been to the hospital more times than I'd like to think. I had a heart condition that flared up in high school so I spent a lot of time at the hospital. I'm still not even sure what it was and am sure the doctors made it up to take my money

41. TOP TEN SONGS:

Beauty and the Beast - Angela Lansbury

Beauty and the Beast - Celine Dion, Peabo Bryson

Higher - Creed

Eres Mi Droga - Intocable

Crossing Field - LiSA

Don't Blink - Kenny Chesney

Junkhead - Alice In Chains

Your Decision - Alice In Chains

Losing A Whole Year - Third Eye Blind

Forever Halloween - The Maine

42. Nah, no meds for me

43. I think I have an oily skin type

44. Biggest fear is leaving those I love behind when I pass along to the next life

45. I don't know how many kids I want

46. I always have my hair either in a bun or braided

47. I live in a medium sized family home

48. My grandma has been and always will be my role model

49. It was being told how wise I am

50. Last text I sent was to my homeboy, telling him "this school shit is wack"

51. I was 6 years old when I found out Santa wasn't real

52. A nice Truck is my dream car or maybe a souped up Subaru, with an anime wrap for shits and gigs

53. I'm cool with smoking weed, but no cigarettes and only smoke outside, don't need my stuff to smell

54. Yeah, I'm here in college, but I don't like it

55. Rural areas by far. I've always wanted my own farm

56. I wanna be a high school history teacher and that requires a degree, so that's why I'm in college

57. I don't like the shampoo and conditioner from hotels, don't like the way they feel. That being said, yes I'll take them

58. I've got freckles but you can barely see them unless were face to face

59. Yes and no. It really depends on my mood. I try to take more smiling pictures now

60. I've got quite a few, mostly memes though

61. Of course I've peed in the woods, with the amount of times I've been hiking and camping with no bathroom in site, you gotta

62. I watch almost strictly cartoons, if we're being completely honest

63. Chicken nuggets smack, no matter where they're from

64. If it calls for it, honey. If not, then sweet and sour sauce

65. Alright, so it depends where I'm at. If I'm home alone, just my underwear. If there are people here, shorts. If I'm at someone else's house, I wear whatever I have on

66. Never participated in a spelling bee in my life

67. My hobby is collecting. I've been collecting things since I was a kid. I've switched between many things in my life. I've gone from Wrestling figures, to sports cards, to vinyl records, to Funko Pops. I actually collect a little of everything I've mentioned now

68. I can't draw for shit

69. I don't play any instruments, although I've tried learning how to play the Ukulele

70. Last concert was seeing Four Year Strong and Seaway like 2 years ago

71. I prefer tea over coffee

72. I guess Starbucks as I've never had Dunkin before

73. Marriage sounds nice, but I don't need to. Like if I'm dating someone and they said they don't wanna get married, I wouldn't have a problem with it. As long as we're in love, that's all that matters

74. Aha, I'm not answering this one

75. If ever I get married, I don't know what the last name situation is gonna be

76. Burgundy and blue look absolutely fantastic on me

77. Yeah there are a few people I miss

78. I always sleep with my door closed and my closets too

79. I belive in ghosts, although I prefer to call them spirits. Used to see them frequently as a child, still do sometimes

80. Biggest pet peeve is when people try to tell me what to do. Not like suggestions but actually tell me what to do. Irritates me to no end

81. Last person I called I think was my Dad, but that's because I couldn't find him in the store

82. Black Cherry Vanilla is the best but no one sells it anywhere

83. Golden Oreos are pretty damn good so I'll go with those

84. If I have to choose, probably rainbow sprinkles

85. Just a plain white tank top

86. My phone background is a picture of Ricky from Trailer Park Boys saying "Man, maybe I am gay."

87. I can be outgoing, it kinda takes a bit for me to open up though

88. I fucking love when people play with my hair

89. My neighbors across the street are very nice, but next door neighbor is a dick, always judging shit

90. I usually wash my face in the mornings

91. I used to get high a lot, not so much anymore, although I'd really like for that to change

92. I spent a good portion of this year drunk, so that's a problem. I actually only started drinking when I turned 21 last September. Never been hungover either, so I've been blessed

93. Last thing I ate was some chips

94. "Thank you to the miracle that we are able to meet in a dirty and ugly world, even like this" My Song - Girl Dead Monster. This is from Angel Beats and these are rough English translations

95. I prefer winter over summer, but spring is my fave season

96. I love night time, always will

97. I will always pick dark chocolate over all other chocolates

98. September is my favorite month, not because it's my birth month, but it's the one month where everything feels right

99. I'm a Virgo

100. Last person I cried in front of was my homeboy Mason, albeit I was drunk as fuck and don't remember it but he does. Says I scared him

Goddamn that took forever, but I did get over being bored, so bless you Anon

[japvnesedenim-blog]

Getting My coffee face mask To Work

Yes, it makes a wonderful Light cleanser likewise. I love the way it tends to make my face experience while in the mornings. A well arranged and neatly composed hub :). I am tempted to test, but I have terrible allergies, it's possible I can do a spot take a look at. Thank you for sharing. Head into a posh spa and you will handle on your own (for any mere $a hundred-$three hundred) to an all-more than body scrub. Or you can shell out nearly $50 on a fancy physique scrub. Why buy when you can make a home made physique scrub out of essential components yourself? All you may need is salt or sugar, overall body oil and a pleasant, warm bath. Many thanks for often providing excellent information and facts. I would love to test the turmeric mask – just pondering if it received’t shade the skin tone to yellow. You should utilize this to streamline signing up for, or signing in towards your Hubpages account. No knowledge is shared with Facebook Except if you engage with this element. (Privateness Policy) You should use honey as a home remedy to brighten your skin complexion in the following methods: Mixing juice of one tomato using a teaspoon of honey can help lessen tan marks, brighten pores and skin complexion and do away with places & blemishes. Twice per week, massage the mix over the face for 5 minutes and go away it to rest for one more quarter-hour ahead of rinsing it off with tap h2o for preferred results. Incorporate 1 tsp honey to on the list of lemon halves. Rich in healthful Body fat and vitamin E, the nutritious avocado might help feed and lubricate withered pores and skin, giving it a supple feel and appear. Wipe out absolutely free radicals that trigger premature aging. Enhance the appearence of aging pores and skin. Lightens and fades age places, acne scars and blemishes. This conical shaped fruit is widely used in the cosmetic market to create pores and skin attractiveness products. As an alternative to using All those chemical laden attractiveness products that even actually incorporate only a little share of strawberry, use mashed strawberries used topically to the skin for By natural means beautiful, soft supple pores and skin. The natural antioxidants present in Honey assist Handle wrinkles and great lines on the face. Making use of honey on face in the shape of the handmade Honey mask may help improve your skin’s elasticity, thus rendering it look youthful and glowing. Provides a natural glow : Amongst the several employs of Honey, applying it to add a contact of natural glow about the face tops the chart. Both you utilize it straight over the face or combine it with milk or yoghurt; the result is going to be- unbelievably glowing skin. There’s anything about coffee! Its a things that Lots of individuals are not able to Are living without, I can, but I realize numerous who absolutely need their crucial dose of cuppa in their existence. Likewise, in natural beauty marketplace, coffee is raved about its splendor Rewards. Scrubs, human body butters, entire body lotions, face creams proclaiming the goodness of coffee have caught our notice and I get coffee-prosperous magnificence things for its wonderful and loaded aroma Despite the fact that I am not a compulsive coffee drinker, I almost never have coffee! For using honey to lighten scars: Blend just one spoon Uncooked honey with 1 spoon coconut oil or olive oil. Use into the affected area, and massage with the tips of one's fingers in a circular motion for one to 2 minutes. Location a warm washcloth in excess of your skin, and let sit until eventually awesome. Repeat daily. Beneficial in Sunburn: Oatmeal has gentle exfoliating and pores and skin-comforting Qualities and it is perfect for removing blackheads from sensitive skin. It's also extremely absorbent and has pure minerals that work to brighten your skin. Winter season temperature isn’t type to pores and skin. Snow and hail lash into sensitive cheeks and foreheads, chilly winds chafe at us, and indoor heating systems depart us flaky, dry, and itchy. While the remainder of our bodies keep safeguarded (if relatively neglected) by garments over the cold months, our faces bear the brunt of everything unpleasant weather Each and every and each day.

strawberry face mask for Dummies

Yogurt and honey have antibiotic Qualities, and this whole Mix is pretty much as good in your outsides as it really is within a drink. Use any leftovers inside a slurp-equipped smoothie with the milk of the preference. Because from https://lv.wordpress.com/tag/face-mask/ , a wonderful face is when compared and considered with ‘complete moon’. With all the passage of time and use of heavy splendor items, our pores and skin is loosing its glaze and youthful shine. You should utilize this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to the Hubpages account. No facts is shared with Facebook Until you engage using this type of aspect. (Privateness Policy) Whilst most of us give skin care and hair care their due relevance, we frequently fail to remember to deal with our lips. This incredibly delicate part of the bo... This home made face mask is ideal to exfoliate and detoxify the skin. You'll have coffee beans, the identical quantity of cocoa powder, and 7 tablespoons simple yogurt. Skin Treatment is significant to each of us and plays an essential role within our grooming method. Amazon India delivers you a significant number of products that are designed to meet your skin care needs. You are able to search by way of our choice to find the merchandise of the alternative by utilizing helpful research parameters for instance manufacturers, seller, price tag, availability and typical consumer opinions. This is certainly accustomed to discover unique browsers or units once the accessibility the provider, and is particularly utilized for security explanations. Coffee is definitely an antioxidant and also promotes circulation. It fights skin hurt a result of the Solar’s harsh ultraviolet (UV) rays too. I use a raw honey mask numerous periods each week (occasionally each day), and I’ve recognized a definite enhancement in the tone and softness of my skin. I like it all the more for The point that it’s absolutely edible and doesn’t expose my pores and skin to the chemical compounds found in most elegance merchandise. Want to turn each day into a superior skin working day? Need to know tips on how to hold your skin youthful, new, and glowing 24/7? Every single individual hopes to feel and look their finest always. Our self-confidence is instantly proportionate to the way we truly feel about ourselves. Deriving the most beneficial outside of by yourself is on the other hand a endeavor that could be considerably assisted with the usage of smart products. . Any greater than that and you’ll be dripping honey everywhere! I had a problem with dripping at the outset, but as soon as I Slice back again on the quantity of honey I applied, the challenge fixed by itself. Let alone that it’s a bit more economical this way, far too! If you need to immediately dispose of acne, it can be perfect for this mask: clear grapefruit and grind it right into a blender or grinder to your regularity of porridge; Chilly weather can aggravate rosacea, leaving faces reddened and blotchy, and sometimes bumpy also. The apple cider vinegar helps to stabilize the pH of the skin, even though the oatmeal lessens discomfort and the opposite elements soothe and moisturize. When combined with egg white, the yeast in the beer produces a filmy mask that hydrates and increases the elasticity of your skin. Introducing a dash of lime, a supply of vitamin C, helps you to apparent pores and fade brown spots.

The Fact About orange face mask That No One Is Suggesting

Yes, you might use lime instead for lemon juice, but for me, lemon is among the most utilised as it's acidity is bigger when compared to the acidity of other citruses. Thanks! Certainly No click here , shiny and tangerine, the peel of the orange consists of antioxidants and utilizing it regularly in face packs gives you obvious and brighter skin right away. This assistance permits you to join or affiliate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, to be able to get paid revenue from advertisements on the content. No data is shared Unless of course you engage using this type of aspect. (Privateness Policy) Do it by yourself: Which has a potato masher, mash the sugar and açai powder or slush Along with the berries, then slowly but surely insert the olive oil; Incorporate coarsely having a whisk. Massage in the face. Leave on for around 5 minutes, then rinse with heat water. In accordance Along with the law of 8th December 1992, you are able to accessibility the databases containing your own facts and modify this info at any time by contacting Hyperlink to Media (details@linktomedia.Web) Incorporate a spoonful of oatmeal, baking soda, and peel powder to a few spoons of water and mix them right until it types a paste. • Merely rubbing refreshing orange peel on the face assists lighten skin color. What's more, it tightens the skin and increases the texture. step to remedies in water and then position it inside a spot where by it can soak up many sunshine. When the peels dry, crush them having a mortar and pestle right into a fantastic powder. You may use this powder for the many for recipes outlined beneath on how to use orange peel in face masks: Did you know that strawberries are one of the best all-natural items, made by mother nature, to use on the skin? They comprise critical fruit acids (AHA's), which include salicylic acid, which is commercially marketed with success for acne therapy. The anti-inflammatory property of coffee will help in lessening inflammatory pores and skin conditions. Additionally, coffee is loaded with antioxidants that protect the skin from cost-free radicals that are to blame for premature getting old with the pores and skin. We like this oatmeal face mask as a result of addition of vinegar to the combination. Vinegar is a light acid which implies it's antiseptic Homes (receives rid of micro organism) but received’t hurt the skin. Be Light with your skin when applying. Carefully utilize a thick coat. Don't rub it harshly on your skin as this might induce the skin to become crimson and Ugly. https://www.wikihow.com/Apply-Face-Masks-Correctly check out the strong nutrients in raw honey for its nourishing Advantages to pores and skin! Below, find out about 3 unique face masks you may Check out on your own in your own home, Just about every with a unique reward. Get it done on your own: Submerge the shells in ice for 15 to twenty minutes. Take out with the ice and slip the idea of the finger snugly into your slender mouth of each and every shell.

diy face mask No Further a Mystery

For mask recipes that call for honey, vegans can possibly substitute a small amount of pureed banana, or merely omit it. When it’s time to clean the mask off, you'll want to set a strainer within your sink or shower drain to capture massive particles: you don’t want to clog your drains. Now, unfold this paste gently and Similarly using a facial mask spatula or brush with your clean up neck and face; keep the eye location clear. Using vinegar as a skin toner dates back to time of Helen of Troy, and it’s just as powerful these days. When you clean your face, blend 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar with 2 cups drinking water to be a ending rinse to cleanse and tighten the skin. Pretty scarce scenarios the place somebody has become idiosyncrasy of this item. Any yeast face mask has probably the most constructive assessments. In https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbW9CllaGhQ for you to make sure that the yeast mask won't induce hurt to your skin, use a small degree of diluted yeast in heat water from the wrist and rinse following 10 minutes if there isn't any reaction, you are able to safely and securely progress towards the recipes. Because the peel is rich in vitamin C, it guards skin from free of charge radical injury, keeps acne at bay and encourages a wholesome glowing pores and skin. The oatmeal deep cleanses your pores and drives out any dirt, grime and oil within the surface on the skin. Here's five effective face packs for an acne-free of charge skin. Bear in mind that you ought to not abuse this mask: the yeast face mask is good if you employ it 1-two times each week. Greater use the yeast in blocks that crumble prior to planning masks. Implement the combination on to your face working with clear finger guidelines inside a circular motion. Enable sit for quarter-hour. In this particular time, you will take A fast soak within the bath or read a chapter of that book you’ve been meaning to finish. Retain you peaceful. To finish your registration be sure to enter the verification code you acquired on your own mobile. In the event you haven't gained the verification code, be sure to SMS REWARDME to 9223347100 alright perfectly it seems to acquire built my skin smoother, but I have a single idea: it may well seem to be noticeable, but don’t place it in the eyebrows!! ? the cinnamon will get trapped in them and you have to wipe it out harshly using a soaked paper towel or wipe hahah & also when rinsing your face don’t scrub along with your fingers, get it done gently or it’ll induce irritation from your small parts of cinnamon powder and it’s kinda distressing ? I’m going to try and Check out back in tomorrow early morning to see if and of my acne has cleared up! Depart the mixture on your own face for at least 5 minutes prior to rinsing it off. You can even test these uncomplicated Do-it-yourself face masks that can help unclog your pores. Now, easy the paste equally and gently using your fingertips over the thoroughly clean neck and face; keep your eye area crystal clear. Many people throw out orange peels once they’re completed having or juicing an orange. But Are you aware that orange peels absolutely are a powerhouse of nutrients and antioxidants? The orange peels even have a bigger vitamin C written content in comparison to the fleshy inside of! B natural vitamins refresh and tone the pores and skin, raise blood circulation in cells, normalize metabolic procedures; Enable it sit for 15 minutes. Rinse your face with chilly drinking water and pat dry by using a thoroughly clean towel. The skin will come to feel amazingly smooth and look clean up and moisturised. If the face is slightly dry after the mask, particularly in acne parts, simply make use of a drop of olive oil for a purely natural moisturizer.

Getting My diy face mask To Work

Pretty scarce circumstances exactly where somebody has actually been idiosyncrasy of this item. Any yeast face mask has quite possibly the most good evaluations. In order for you to make sure that the yeast mask won't result in harm to your skin, implement a small level of diluted yeast in warm h2o while in the wrist and rinse following 10 minutes if there isn't a response, it is possible to properly proceed to your recipes. Include 1 tablespoon of contemporary yoghurt. If yoghurt is just not out there then you can utilize a tablespoon of curd as well. Caution: Prolonged use of aspirin or weighty doses need to be prevented, as it could go away the pores and skin excessively dry and help it become glimpse yellow. Aspirin doesn't fit all skins, which also needs to be very carefully regarded as When picking which face mask to implement. 4 actions skin whitening components that can assist you to receive sought after skin tone you might also like Software: Use a layer of your apple honey mask in your full face. Wait for 10 to fifteen minutes and Permit the mask dry up somewhat. After that, wash the mask off With all the lukewarm water and wait for the outcomes! One more pleasurable update: When you add honey to this mixture, it does not dry rigid at all. I failed to anticipate that but it surely's pleasant! Honey has antibacterial and calming Houses, And that i applied Manuka honey and that is recognized for acquiring the highest antibacterial properties. I'm positive it is possible to mix a couple of other items in it likewise. The sugar scrub should be of your consistency as noticed within the picture. Utilize it for Your whole body to have skin that feels rejuvenated and smells contemporary. Don’t turn this right into a scrub by rubbing it into your skin. Following quarter-hour, eliminate the mask with warm water, then with chilly water. This mask may perhaps seem rather Unusual on This web site meant for organic and natural solutions, but utilizing Aspirin – Honey Mask for managing acne can be a successful and simple Resolution. This is an excellent mask for fellas, as it may possibly soothe both of those razor melt away, and around-weathered Winter season pores and skin. The yogurt acts to be a moisturizer, though the cucumber lessens redness and presents moisture to dry, sensitive pores and skin. Many of them are proposed to maintain the face to dry completely. Yeast right after using the mask is easily removed with warm drinking water (improved to choose just the filtered, freed from impurities). So, the choice – for you! This simple yeast mask is simpler for cleaning pimples face and black heads which might be by far the most trending pores and skin troubles for teenagers. This orange peel powder has purposes manifold. via steptoremedies.com includes citric acid that helps from the brightening of skin By natural means. Thereafter clean it off working with lukewarm h2o and end with a single splash of chilly; pat the skin dry using a thoroughly clean towel.

[harunialifa]

How To Build Your Own Skincare Routine

First of all, I’m not a dermatologist. But, I love to learn about skincare and taking care of my own skin. I admit, building a solid skincare routine that fits our skin best takes a lot of time and struggle. That’s why I made this post. I’ll share based on my experience and what I’ve learned through articles and videos.

I bet you have seen lately about the 7 or 10 step skincare routine trends, which makes me seems overwhelmed by the amount of the steps.

“Should I really put all those layers of toners, essence, ampoule, serums, and whatsoever? Anyway, what’s the different between of all those products? Wait, how to use all of them in a same time? How about the ingredients? Which ingredient that can be used together and whether should not be mixed? Now, I’ve already tried the routine, why does my skin just stay the same? (or even worsen!?) Shouldn’t it makes my skin clear, bright, and glow like the guy in the commercial? Oh, I still have breakout here and there. All of these products are useless!!”

Well, well, been there, done that.

It’s not just putting me into stress and bankruptcy, I also feel shame to add more collections of my failed skincare stuffs, but yet I still haven’t found the right one. So here’s when I realized I should stop focusing on trends. Instead, I should listen more to myself. What my skin really needs? That’s how I start to buy products that I ONLY need.

I should stop focusing on trends. Instead, I should listen more to myself. What my skin really needs?

As you can see on the picture above, that’s my skincare routine for day and night. Only, I don’t use the sunscreen at night. There’s also a product that I only use weekly, which is the clay mask. I also not use them altogether all the time. Sometimes, I listen to what my skin is feeling lately.

P.S. I forgot to take pics of my face cleanser, but of course it’s included in the routine.

Here’s what you need to know :

First thing first, skin check.

Before you jump on all of those products, see what your skin is trying to tell you. Is your skin normal, dry or oily? or maybe a combination? *Oh, God! why is this already complicated?*

Don’t worry! There are many articles about skin types on google. Even there’s a quiz to help you find out your skin type. Easy peasy, right?

Further read :

Skintype Quiz

What is My Skin Type?

Know Your Skin Types

After you know your skin type, take a look at your skin concern. You may have oily skin, but, you can also have dry patches. *Wait, is that possible?* Yes, and it’s called as skin dehydration! The good news is, skin concern is only a condition of your skin, it may goes away, but it may comes back. By using any particular products that target your skin concern, it will help you to solve it.

Skin Type vs. Skin Condition

Differentiate Between Skin Type and Skin Condition

Focus on A Basic Routine.

So, you’ve got your skin checked. Let’s move to the fundamental thing, building your skincare routine! Before you rush to buy that serum to diminish your acne, hold on! It’s not serum that you need first. Yep, you need to focus on the 3 basic skincare routine. What are they? Cleanse — Moisture— Protect.

Cleanse — Washing your face is REALLY important, especially at night. It’s no use if you’re adding layers of toners on your face, but the face itself is still dirty. Your skin’s just having a busy day, it has makeup, dirt, and pollutant. Make sure you let your skin refresh by cleansing all those dirt away! Make sure you choose face cleanser that is gentle and non-drying. A good cleanser melt your makeup and dirt, leaving your skin clean, as well as not making your skin feels tight. Choose a pH balanced skin cleanser, because your skin will love it. There’s also a science behind it.

Moisture — After cleansing, your skin needs moisture to balance the oil of your skin. Whatever your skin type is, it’s still important to use a moisturizer. If you have oily skin, you may think moisturizer will only make your skin oilier. Well, there’s a tips and trick on how to use a moisturizer based on your skin type.

Protection — Don’t you dare to skip this one on a morning routine. You may forget to wash your face in the morning, and it’s still tolerable. For some people, cleansing face in the morning could strip away its natural oils. But, NEVER EVER skip sunscreen! It protects your skin from sun UV A and UV B radiation that could effect on skin cancer. It also helps to protect your skin barrier. According to Heidi Li and colleagues, (read more on their journal) sunscreen should be applied to all exposed areas. This mean including your body and lips too.

If you’ve found the best products for your basic routine, you’ll find that your skin is more resistance! A good basic routine will keep a healthy skin barrier . Skin barrier is the outermost layer of your skin cells. It’s like a protective shield to your skin. If your skin barrier is strong, there will be lesser chance of your skin to be mad at you, or will be in trouble. So let’s keep the barrier strong!

Adding Extra Product When You Need It.

Now, you’ve already built a good solid basic skincare that fits your skin type. Now, you can add products that your skin needs based on your skin concerns. Maybe, you have a dull skin, dry patches, blackheads, acne, and so on. This is where you need extra skincare products. If you need extra hydration, go on with a product that contains hydrating ingredients, such as hyaluronic acid. Need to brighten up your dull skin? Exfoliate! Use products that contain AHA/BHA or other exfoliating agents. Then, you can add toner, serum, or any other products that contain those ingredients you want to look for. There are many wonderful ingredients that could help you with your skin problem. You can easily find out these ingredients on google. But, be sure to read carefully on how to use a certain product especially with active ingredients. There’s a guide that you need to follow to make it works and beneficial for your skin. In this case, such as exfoliating acids.

Further reads:

Skincare Ingredients You Should Never Mix

Skincare Glossary

8 Active Skincare Ingredients

Somehow, trying skincare products with active ingredients could be tricky. You may still experience breakouts or unwanted reaction from the products that you’ve tried. It could be because, your skin couldn’t tolerate the acids, or the products just don’t work out. If you’re having a continuous breakout, this could be a sign that you should discontinue using the product. While having all the unwanted reactions, don’t panic. This is the stage where you’ll know which ingredient that just doesn’t work out for you, and which ingredient does wonderful. Just stick to your basic routine. A good basic routine should strengthen your skin barrier. Trust your skin to heal themselves. After you see that your skin gets better, you can slowly try again, adding other new products. Oh, and you can try calming ingredients while your skin’s mad at you, such as centella asiatica. But again, be sure this product is not containing other ingredients that not work out for your skin.

Last words, you have freedom to choose your own skincare routine. 4 steps, 7 steps, or 10 steps, there is no right or wrong as long as the routine works for you. My advice is, be gentle to your skin and keep the skin barrier healthy! 

Please feel free to share your experience and advice about skincare on this post. I would love to hear from you! 

[pneumasthesia]

Chapter 8

D.     The young man

First Act – Affect: Part 3

 “Ah, now I remember!” I say, in mock reminiscence, “I was with someone else when the Professor’s gun went off.”

The young man grits his teeth audibly, resigning himself to what I’m about to say.

“I was with the irritable jackass over there” I say, pointing towards the sulking great detective, “In the servant’s quarters downstairs where we both heard the gunshot.”

“Is this true?” accuses the older man, his righteous fury turning towards the young man, “because if it is, then we can’t rule out the possibility that you two were conspiring to kill the Professor.”

The young man says nothing. Apparently, he’s not very good when put on the spot, or maybe he’s unwilling to lie even to save his own skin. I’m more inclined to believe it’s the former.

“Well, let’s see, can anyone corroborate this story?” asks the middle-aged woman. She turns to the young girl who’s been silent ever since her outburst upon first seeing the body.

“No … I didn’t see anything” meagerly states the young girl.

“Then, I suppose that alibi doesn’t amount to much” says the middle-aged woman with a tone of disappointment in her voice, the veracity of her tone completely undecipherable to me.

“We’ll need hard proof that one of you couldn’t have killed the Professor” states the older man unflinchingly, “especially that you couldn’t, ‘Pet’.”

Hard proof? I’m no detective and I doubt anyone here is, even if they think they are. We should really just wait until the police come, but now that everyone’s been worked up like this, who knows what they’ll do if we don’t find an answer soon. I just need to search a little harder. I need answers.

 May 31, 9:21 pm

 I need answers.

The Professor has been avoiding my questions the whole time I’ve been here, and I deserve to know.

What exactly is his assistant’s name?

I know I’ve seen him before and it’s on the tip of my tongue. I remember that it was six syllables split evenly 2-2-2 over his first, middle, and last names. That’s an awfully nice syllabic structure, so of course I’d remember it. I also remember that the number of letters in his names were five, four, and five, respectively. I remember that because it’s so incredibly disappointing that he has a consistent number of syllables across his names but not a consistent number of letters. If they were all five letters, then it would be so fitting for who he is. His parents didn’t even have the decency to give his name a consistent consonant-vowel-consonant-vowel etc. pattern for his whole name, only up to the end of his middle name. It’s especially difficult to remember because it’s one of those names that’s made entirely out of common first names, so I keep questioning whether or not I’m thinking of other people when I think about his name. If I just remember part of it, I’m sure-

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I just had something that I needed to do in the parlor” the Professor says to me, coming up the stairs to the second floor, out of breath and frantically stashing something behind his back.

“It’s no big deal” I lie, "I’m in no rush.”

“Yes, of course” he says, his breathing beginning to stabilize somewhat, “We’ll have plenty of time in this retreat to discuss these matters.”

“About the ‘retreat’, I was going to ask you about th-“ I sputter out before being interrupted.

“Can you be quiet for a second. I need to focus” Zero says impatiently. He pushes his reading glasses onto his nose and holds his face scarcely three centimeters away from the door to his study, scrutinizing a note pinned to the wooden door. The note has a three-digit combination on it, which the Professor reads, silently mouths to himself, and inputs into a padlock that connects the doorknob to a large nail unceremoniously sticking out of the adjacent wall.

It’s an awfully inelegant type of lock. I could hardly imagine the Professor that I remembered from when we were younger being able to stand something as sloppy as this. The nail that the lock is connected to could easily be removed by anyone with time and a tool. Not to mention that a padlock with only three digits is quite susceptible to being picked. However, much more important than those safety concerns is the fact that the combination for the lock is written out plainly on the door of the study for anyone to see. I first wondered if they were encoded in some way, but after watching the Professor unlock the lock himself, I am certain that they are not. I understand that his memory is fading with age so he needs to remind himself things like this, but what’s even the point of a lock if anyone who’d break into the place you’re trying to lock up could just read the combination?

“Don’t just stand there staring into space, come in so we can chat” says the Professor. How rude of you to treat me like an idiot when you yourself have set up the world’s most idiotic security system.

The Professor sits behind his large wood desk and fusses around, seemingly putting something away. I take the seat directly in front of the Professor’s desk because it’s the only seat available. When we’re seated like this, it makes it seem like I’m his patient and not his equal, though I’m sure that’s the intention.

“Why are you doing this experiment?” I say flatly.

“What experiment?” he says, that infuriating smile on his face.

“The ‘retreat’.”

“I already told you why; I want to help you people.”

“That’s not it.”

“Why can’t it be?”

“I know you. You’re not that kind.”

“That’s hurtful, old friend.”

“I’m not very kind either. I know that you’re just using these people as tools to advance your career.”

“We haven’t seen each other in years; you have no reason to believe that I haven’t had a change of heart.”

“Have you?”

He smiles his awful smile again. It always looks like he’s making fun of me when he does that, but now I’m 95% certain that he is.

“When I publish the results of this retreat, I could list you as a coauthor” he proposes.

Huh?

“I think it’s a good idea. Having the name of a sufferer of the condition in question attached to the paper will definitely lend some credibility to the findings. And I’m sure that a big finding like this will do a lot to revitalize your career. You might even finally get tenure” Zero offers, his characteristic valuelessness more present than ever.

I say nothing and walk out of the office. I refuse to consort with self-serving, false academics like that. The sciences are a pure, beautiful art form. They’re the only place that I can be myself. I will not have someone like that taint them any further with his greed.

I can feel a change coming from within me. My mind feels sharper than it has in a while, sharper than even before that fuzzy feeling overtook me at 8:00 pm today. I am focused. I am serene. For what seems like the first time since the war, I have a concrete goal in front of me. I will stop the Professor, no matter what.

 00:53:23

 “I said that I would understand you, no matter what. That includes putting you through painful memories like that.”

“…”

“Experiencing those painful thoughts, that betrayal, must be unpleasant for you. I give you my condolences, but I will not apologize.”

“……”

“Are you alright? Maybe that one got to you more than I expected- “

“It’s not that. I just didn’t realize that those thoughts belonged to him.”

“Who? That angry young man?”

“Yeah. I suppose I had an inkling that those thoughts might have belonged to him, but it’s strange to see so deeply into someone’s own inner mind like that, and to have it be someone that you’ve known makes it even more bizarre.”

“It’s not like you know him all that well. He’s basically a stranger to you.”

“And he’s not to you?”

“Of course not. He’s my best friend.”

“……………”

“Why do I feel like you’ve just lost all respect for me?”

“Because I have.”

“Aha! I do understand you!”

“Lucky guess. You don’t need to be a mind reader to tell that he’s an empty-headed douchebag. You can just look at him and see that.”

“What is it about his appearance that tells you that?”

“You know, his dandy, gaudy, little playboy clothes are the first thing anyone would notice when they see him and … wait a second, don’t tell me that the ‘pick-up artist’ you were getting advice from was that idiot.”

“OK then. I won’t tell you that.”

“You’ve certainly learned how to be an annoyance from him.”

“I’ve always been an annoyance at heart; I’ve just gotten better at expressing myself lately.”

“Can we move on before I have an aneurysm?”

“Of course, your health is very import- “

“Just get on with it without any jokes this time.”

“Fine. So if we can’t prove that the assistant was innocent by an alibi, then we’ll have to do so with some hard evidence.”

“Or we can let the guests string him up from a tree and execute him. What does it matter? It’s just in our heads.”

“That’s hurtful.”

“What? Do you expect someone like me to be nice?”

“Yes. Niceness is the natural state of all humans.”

“Hmph. Well whatever, you want me to play the detective in this memory theater of yours, then fine. As long as it gets this farce to end sooner.”

“That’s the spirit. But I take offense with you calling this a theater production of ‘mine’. You’re just as much the director as I am.”

“Get on with the show, stagehand.”

“Hahaha, good one!”

“…”

“Ahem, right, no jokes for this one; at least not from me. Alright, think carefully. This one might not make complete sense to you right now, but just go with your gut feeling. What prevented the assistant from killing the Professor in his study?”

 >Pick one:

A.    The Professor isn’t dead

B.     The study door was locked

C.    The Professor wasn’t in the study when the gunshot rang out

D.    The assistant was unconscious when the gun was shot