#A Bouquet of Barbed Wire

[veryslowreader]

A Bouquet of Barbed Wire by Andrea Newman

A Fine Romance: "First Meeting"

[skenpiel]

i have died. BADLY

[agenderasshole]

Andrew & tattoos

Been working on my redraw of Neil and Andrew from Pride 2021, and I've been inundated with thoughts of Andrew and tattoos.

(Including wonderful thoughts and ideas from people on the aftg big bang discord server)

Some of these will be more specific than others

Andrew gets a whole bunch of tattoos over the years. It's a reclamation of his body, and he likes the look of them, but that doesn't mean he ever gets truly comfortable in the chair. He can't be because there's someone he doesn't trust touching him and stabbing him repeatedly with needles for at least half an hour, but up to six at a time when he sits for bigger pieces. So every time he gets one, someone goes with him. Usually, it's Neil, both because that's who he trusts most and also the convenience of them living together for so long.

The two of them have a few matching tattoos. They have the key to the Columbia house with each other's initials on them. Neil's is over his heart, I'm less certain where Andrew's is. They have matching continuous single-line tattoos of the cats, and they each have roman numeral tattoos of the other's fox number.

In his fifth year, Andrew mentions that he'll be getting a Medusa tattoo. Aaron, who has been quietly researching ways to support SA survivors (which only Katelyn knows about), knows what a Medusa tattoo symbolizes and immediately offers to go with him. Andrew doesn't object and lets him come along. Because Andrew doesn't object to Aaron going to the session with him, neither does Neil, despite assuming he would go with Andrew. He still doesn't get along with Aaron, but he thinks Aaron going with Andrew will be good for them both. Before the session, Neil stops by to tell Aaron what Andrew's favorite tattoo session snacks/treats are and his favorite place to go afterward.

At some point, after he graduates from Palmetto, Andrew gets a tattoo in honor of Betsy. He tells Bee before he gets it, on one of their weekly phone calls and she offers to come with him. At the appointment, Bee surprises him by getting a matching tattoo with him. He gets forget-me-nots surrounded by a bee on his shoulder. She gets hers over her heart, and he gets his on his shoulder so she's always looking out for him. He holds her hand through the entirety of her time in the chair, and she talks to him through the entirety of his. They both quietly laugh at Andrew's choice of the forget-me-nots considering his memory. But if Besty notices that when they are colored they are also the same color as Neil's eyes, she keeps that observation to herself.

Other small one-off thoughts

'Sunrise' and 'death' on his collarbones with a delicate 'A' at the base of his throat

A fox skull surrounded by orange and white gladiolus flowers (strength of character, faithfulness, and remembrance)

A floral bouquet for his family. Edelweiss for Nicky (nobility, devotion, and resilience, also I hc Andrew having a love of musicals.) Magnolias and Dandelions for Aaron (perserverance and resilience.) Thistles for Neil (resilience, strength, determination, protection and pride.) Lotuses for Kevin (Resilience and overcoming adversity)

Barbed wire above where his arm bands end

There's probably more that I'll think of when it's not 1:30 am but that's where I'm stopping for the night

[lightaflaem]

𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [𝐨𝐧𝐞]

content warnings: heavy gore, zombies, infectious disease, mentions of blood, hospitals, cheating, profanity, violence, usage of weapons and guns, mental health problems, implied anxiety attacks, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, protected sex

word count: 5.5k

summary: just when everyone thought that the flu-like virus which led to a global outbreak four years ago had finally settled down, a new variant struck that escalated rapidly and became out of control. with limited supplies and life at stake, you were left with no choice but to team up with your ex-boyfriend, oikawa tooru, to navigate and seek shelter.

keiya.speaks: this is an entry for @pixelcafe-network 's 2024 spooktober event 🎃

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You wished that all of this was just inside of your head.

You begged the ups that once you open your eyes, you’ll be in your favorite figs scrub suit, caressing your Beckman Coulter DxH 900 hematology analyzer, praying that the reagents would be enough for your hospital’s bed capacity as your laboratory supervisor forgot to place an order for this month’s supplies.

Or maybe wooing your Cobas e601, hoping that your quality control would be in the range of the mean so you would be able to run all your chemistry specimens smoothly. Maybe when you finally open your eyes, you’ll be back inside the laboratory, signing all your patients’ results as a Medical Laboratory Scientist.

However, when your eyelids unfolded and a baseball bat swung towards you that nearly grazed the tip of your nose, you were back in this stinking reality.

“I swear to fucking hell, Tooru, stop spinning the bat like that, you nearly hit me again!” you hissed, trying to avoid the piece of wood for the nth time. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the nip of skin that has been hanging around the bloody barbed wires wrapped around it for heavens knows how long and instantly, you felt your insides turning upside down, nearly throwing the acid of your stomach in disgust. 

“Aww, chibi-chan is annoyed, you’re too cute to be annoyed. You can’t be annoyed at me, darling. You’re stuck with me.” Tooru smiled, his eyes turning crescents while grabbing a few cans of easy-open tuna paella and throwing it into the creaky shopping cart.

You’re back in this reality where everyone around you has turned into a living dead—basically zombies. People might think that this is just a foolish tale told by someone like you however, it wasn’t. When everyone thought that the Corona virus that set the world into a pandemic four years ago had ended, well it hasn’t really ended that well yet.

A new variant mutated and current vaccines didn’t work that much into protecting the people. Eventually. Everyone started getting sick again and the cases doubled, tripled, and continued proliferating like hell. Hospitals were full of patients with flu-like symptoms and quarantine was implemented once again. With the lack of research and scientific approach, never have you ever imagined that the simple flu virus that was once contained will mutate into something more damned, something more hellish—and that is taking over its host’s nervous system and respiratory tract, owning it completely just like the mad cow and rabies disease. At this point, you didn’t really understand it that much because there’s a lot of factors and unknown elements. With that, the once feared virus has already taken over the world again but this time, much worse than the first one.

Two weeks since the virus has flipped Japan 360 degrees, 14 days of being stuck to survive with Oikawa Tooru, your ex-boyfriend. 

Shit happens for real, right? But when that menace, caramel-eyed, 6 footer guy who dragged his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, into his shenanigans suddenly showed up in your workplace with a bouquet of flowers 3 years after your break-up, you felt your blood boiling as the last thing you wanted to see is his face.

And another shit happens is that the very same day he showed his arrogant face to you, that’s also the day when the whole city went rabid and everyone suddenly started biting each other as the undead symptoms manifested in most of your emergency room patients. It was like a trigger that suddenly detonated, sending signals to all of the infected to attack.

That’s how you found yourself in an abandoned grocery, picking up some goods before you eventually hit the road to seek a temporary shelter while looking for a permanent one with your ex-boyfriend, who’s now taking advantage of the life or death situation to get closer to you once more.

“Phew, looks like we got everything we needed.”

Your gaze shifted to the items inside the cart. Canned goods, instant meals, protein bars, biscuits, some snacks, bottled waters that could probably last up to a few days depending on the consumption, energy drinks, basic medicine and first aid, batteries, ropes, some toiletries and personal necessities, and a box of condoms.

Box of condoms?

“Oikawa Tooru, you perverted sex animal!” you felt your face heating up despite the broken air conditioner kept on running, setting the whole area into freezing point.

Tooru was laughing his ass off as you picked up and threw the packets of rubber on his chest. He was bursting so much that he dramatically wiped his fake tears.

“We’re in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and you still have the time to pull shitty pranks just like that!” you exclaimed, face puffing in vexation. “If you don’t have a goddamn thing to do—”

“GRRAAAGH!”

“Fuck!”

A squeal leaped out of your mouth as you saw a flesh-rotting guy approaching Tooru from behind. It let out a deafening howl, echoing in the empty store. Its skin was pale, almost white with purple veins popping in its throat up to its face. The pieces of tissue that were decomposing and filled with maggots were falling into the floor, scattering everywhere. Eyes were bloodshot and scarlet red blood was pouring out of its mouth, approaching the both of you with speed. It can fucking run?! 

In an instant, Tooru secured you behind his back and gripped on the bat’s handle with force. As the raving undead approached, he swung the piece of wood with full strength, leaving a huge missing chunk on the man’s head as the muscle flew away due to the impact. Blood spurted out everywhere and you could see pieces of its brain being tangled in the barbed wires. It fell on the ground convulsing before becoming motionless, indicating that it’s already finally dead again.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Tooru’s eyes landed on you, checking you from head to toe.

You were frozen in your place, still trying to comprehend what happened. It wasn’t the first time that you were attacked yet you could still feel your insides being scrambled whenever you’re placed in the exact situation. You felt like you’ll seriously never gonna get used to this scenario.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright. A-are you okay?” you questioned, meeting his brown orbs back. Tooru just laughed hysterically, pushing his hair back and settling the wood just above his shoulders.

“Of course! It’s the grand king after all.”

Piece of shit. You thought. He’s already 27 yet the silly nickname that he was given way back in his junior high volleyball days were still fixated on him. He’s a serious menace.

“C’mon, Iwa’s probably wondering why the hell we’re taking too long. As much as I wanted to say that we took this precious time to make out, I’d rather not.” he commented as he pushed the cart forward. You could see from his back how his gaze changed, sensing if there’s still a threat around you.

When the both of you exited the store, you were greeted by your two companies.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Tobio hurriedly went towards you, examining your physical state. “We heard the noise from outside. We're ready to barge in, you know?”

“Oi. I’m here. Why didn’t you ask me too?” Tooru sniggered in annoyance as the black-haired man continued ignoring him as he was not existing at all. Of course, the former did not let it go and started a childish, rivalry eye to eye against each other.

It was just broken when Iwaizumi squeezed himself in between to check the items inside the cart.

“You guys forgot my snickers, you fuckers.” his forehead creased when he did not catch a glimpse of his favorite chocolate bar that he clearly instructed earlier. You mentally slapped your head as you realized it just now.

“Now Iwa-chan, this is not the right time to freaking enjoy a chocolate bar.”

“Shut the fuck up, you trash. I’ll stuff this cart into your mouth.”

“And I love you too, Iwa-chan!”

Both you and Tobio stood there with a facepalm on your faces as you watched the two best friends bicker with each other in the middle of goddamn ruins. Some people wouldn't be convinced that they have been friends since high school but they really are.

One of the few good things despite the catastrophe is that you somehow luckily ended up with the people you’ve already known. When your workplace turned into madness, Tooru and Hajime managed to pull you away from the crowd of insanity to hide and ended up escaping together safely to the hospital’s parking lot. However, little did the three of you know that there’s also a few undead lurking there. You felt the numbness taking over your body as you recognized some of them as your colleagues—Yamaguchi Tadashi, a nurse on the 6th floor and Sugawara Koshi, a pediatric resident. They were moving mindlessly, drool dripping on their lips as they no longer recognized their own self.

Before Tooru could drag you away from it, a familiar Suzuki Jimny in solid kinetic yellow stopped in front of you. The door flew open, revealing Kageyama Tobio, a phlebotomist and your college friend, screaming to the three of you to get inside the car.

And that’s how you ended up navigating the now ghost roads of Miyagi with these three. The first instinct is to drive to the government facilities in Tokyo to get help; however, it is nearly impossible to reach your destination when you’re unarmed, have no supplies, and do not know what terror lies ahead on those roads. Good thing is that there’s still electricity and water, however, cellular phone signals and wifi are now down so you couldn’t get any help through local authorities. With that, the three of you decided to stick with each other to gather and prepare everything you needed and move little by little at a time.

“Man, you seriously have horrible taste in color.” Tooru spoke to Tobio as he closed the door of his Suzuki Jimny, clearly provoking the younger one instead, all he received was a scoff, ignoring his remark.

“Tooru, stop it.” you berated your ex-boyfriend and blew you a kiss instead that made your eye roll heavenly.

In no time, you’re back on the road with Hajime driving, Tobio on the passenger seat, leaving you and Tooru in the backseat. Your itinerary for today is to find a house to stay in for a few days before finally driving out of Miyagi for good since the last house you went to got infested with undead.

Every night, you get nightmares from the images of the undead. Whenever you dream about it, it’s always detailed to the point that you could smell the malodorous odor of the rotting bodies. The terrifying screams were also echoing in your eardrums that sometimes sent a strike of headache on your head. But sometimes, you also dream about your life before all of this happens. Your happy life whom you’ve worked hard to achieve. Somehow, you managed to pull yourself together otherwise, you’ll lose your sanity and even worse, become one of the undead. However, you really don’t know how long you could still hold yourself in one piece.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Tooru managed to tickle your sides as your mind was hastily floating in cloud nine. You turned to him and saw his soft gaze locking on you. You noticed how his hazel hair that matched the color of his eyes is now cropped into a shorter one compared to its length when you were still dating him three years ago. He’s also wearing a graded specs now whom you did not recall him having one before. His pointed nose and chiseled jaw are now more prominent due to the weight and baby fats he lost. Arms and body became more muscular, skin got a little tanner than usual probably because of his training in Argentina as a professional volleyball player.

Tooru’s really handsome. He’s got the type of attractiveness where you’ll look over your shoulders to glimpse at him once again whenever he passes by. Despite his childish personality, he’s really kind and a gentleman that made him easy to penetrate inside the heart of his crowd. He’s got the aura wherein he can bring the best out of you when you’re with him. He's like the daylight you’ll see when you reach the end of the night sky.

Your relationship with him was stable. You fight but all the arguments are talked and reflected thoroughly. He always gives you whatever you want and need. Handles your tantrums very well and does not hold grudges against you or anyone else. He makes sure that he can show and make you feel all the love languages he could ever think of. He’s the best boyfriend and best friend you’ve ever had. It was so strangely stable to the point that you thought that he’s the one you’ll marry. However, when he accidentally left his phone in your apartment and you caught a glimpse of a contact with a picture of a girl asking if he had fun last night with her on his text messages, your dream of marrying him and being each other’s end game shattered.

He tried calling and chasing you for almost a week after that but you didn’t give him a chance to explain, knowing that only bullshit will come out of his mouth after he blatantly cheated on you just like that. After that, the only news you heard about him is that he’s flying to Argentina to turn his dreams into reality of becoming a professional volleyball player. He never tried contacting you again after that, not even once.

Three years later, he finally achieved his dreams as he’s all over the news as the best setter CA San Juan has ever had and now he’s suddenly back as if nothing happened between the two of you, alive and kicking. 

“Nothing, just tired.” you lied, not having any energy left to converse with him. You felt a calloused, warm hand placed above your left elbow, thumb caressing your skin. Your eyes flew and saw Tooru’s bruised and wounded hand attempting to soothe yours. “What the hell—”

“It’ll be alright, Y/N. I promise you. We’ll get through this, just like we always have.” he left out a soft yet reassuring smile before releasing your arm. You don’t know why but you felt like a hope ignited inside you. A sense of solace hit as you felt that Tooru never once had second thoughts in you. 

You find yourself erupting a small smile. There’s indeed hope despite the darkest times.

Standing in front of a 2-storey modern house, you clutched your baseball bat as you prepared yourself for a possible undead atack. It wasn’t that big but it’s enough for a family of three to live in. The exterior has a monochrome color palette with wooden doors and tinted glass windows that reflect your worn out states. It also has a balcony that has a few clothes hanging on the railing.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Hajime looked up at the towering building.

“I hope so.” Tobio answered, leading towards the door.

Slowly, Tobio twisted the automated door knob that surprisingly opened without any difficulty. The four of you exchanged looks, swallowing the balling lump in your throats as you set a foot inside the house. You were greeted by an eerie silence upon entering the abandoned house. It was decorated with lavish interiors and monochromatic palette, matching with the exteriors. The floor is made with oak wood and the walls are marble that added extra fire to the aesthetics. The second floor has a bathroom, one master bedroom, a guest room with two beds and a balcony that faces the streets. Overall, it’s a nice house and seems like the owner is well-off based on their residence.

Hajime and Tooru checked the second floor and found nothing but a few pieces of clothes that seemingly belonged to a man. However, inside the closet of the master bedroom, they found a leather bag of guns, ammunition and a copy of the firearm’s registration. You were not knowledgeable that much in firearms but you immediately recognized AK-47, M16, and the famous Smith & Wesson Model 27 that you once saw in the anime Banana Fish.

“Damn, so those really exist in real life.” Tooru made an exaggerated comment as the weapons were carefully being laid in the long coffee table by Tobio.

“We’re already in an apocalypse, you shithead. Guns like these are more realistic than this fucking hell situation.” Hajime retorted, blood is always boiling at his best friend’s idiocratic remarks.

“Let’s just keep these in one place and take it once we’re moving away. For now, let’s stick with our current weapons so we can utilize everything at once.” you proposed, earning quick nods from the boys.

“Ah, my darling is so clever! Come and give me a hug.” attempting to cage you in his chest, you quickly dodged your ex-boyfriend's arms and pointed the baseball bat a few inches away from his face.

“Don’t you dare touch me, Oikawa.”

“Why? You loved my touches. You were begging for my touch—”

“Shut it!”

You shused him by swiftly covering his mouth with your right hand. You could feel his lips twitching against your touch, eyes forming a curve as he smiled infuriatingly.

“Love birds, take your business upstairs. Me and Tobio will share the guest room, the two of you in the master bedroom so you can make peace with your demons. Don’t think of bitching up because I ain’t taking any shit today.” Hajime firmly said before grabbing the weapons one by one to store them in the small compartment under the coffee table. You felt your face being flushed with much embarrassment as the two guys witnessed your bantering. Tobio was about to appeal but he met the death stare of Hajime, making him pursed his lips.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you shared a room with your ex-boyfriend. The whole 14 days with him, you either get your own space or share a room with all of them. That's why your vital organ is now leaping so hard that it might jump out of your ribcage.

After arranging and dividing the supplies so that it can last for a few days, the four of you improvised a barricade on the door and covered the window so that you wouldn’t see the streets outside that holds a few abandoned cars, splurt of blood on the road, decomposing human pieces, and some bodies that are unrecognizable.

Seeing the first-aid kit that you grabbed earlier in the kitchen counter, the memory of Tooru’s wounded and bruised hand suddenly flashed in your mind. Without a second thought, you found yourself getting ice from the functional freezer and wrapping it in a clean cloth before wetting the piece of fabric so that the cold temperature could easily penetrate. In no time, you were now standing in front of the master’s bedroom, slowly peeking to see if Tooru’s awake.

You saw him sitting on the edge of the bed that is facing the door, clutching a polaroid film in his hand. His face is blank yet a void of sadness was swarming in his brown eyes as he sighed and kept the picture back in his wallet. Your lips parted as you recognized that he’s still using the wallet you gifted him on his last birthday before you broke up.

“Tooru?” you spoke, casually pushing the door. “Can I come in?”

He let out a chuckle. “Of course you can.”

With that, you slid your body inside the room. His eyes were fixated on you as you sat down beside him, placing the kit on your lap. Your hands were trembling as you reached for him, which he willingly lifted without any question, gently patting the iced towel on his bruises that he probably got from mishandling the baseball bat.

“Wow, never have I ever imagined that I’ll get a special treatment from a medical laboratory scientist. You know you can just kiss the boo boo and it’ll go away instantly.” he winked, making you roll your eyes at him again.

“Shut up. My treatment fee is really expensive for idiots like you.” picking up the disinfectant, you slowly rubbed it on the sides of the small cuts with a clean cotton ball, earning a winced from him as the sting penetrated the wound.

Tooru was silent the whole time you’re icing and dressing his hand. He knows that whenever you're doing something healthcare related, you don’t want to be disturbed as you pour your hundred percent concentration into it. He knows this better than you.

“You never gave me a chance to explain myself, Y/N.” he opened up when he saw you finished sealing the wrapped gauze pad around his palm. “At least let me explain this time. I cannot swallow the fact that we’re already in the middle of this goddamn situation and you still haven’t got the peace of mind you deserve.”

You could feel his stare burning at you. When you met his eyes, it was full of perseverance as if he’s not going to let you exit the room without listening to his explanation. To be honest, you really don’t know to yourself why you’re refusing to hear his side. Maybe you’re afraid of the confrontation. Maybe you’re scared of the fact that he cheated and he’s going to confess it in front of your face. Maybe you’re rejecting the reality that Oikawa Tooru did cheat on you with somebody else.

Gathering all your strength, you let out a deep exhale before speaking. “Give me a reason not to kick you out of this room.”

Tooru’s demeanor changed when he heard those words. It was hard for him to gain your trust once again after everything but if he’s given the chance, he will never let go and prove himself to be worthy of your heart once again.

“It was a prank.” he started, making your face puzzled. “It was a fucking shitty prank pulled by my teammate, Kindaichi. I remember him doing the same thing to Kunimi before but we all laughed it off since Kunimi’s single. I don’t remember when he did it but I think when I left my phone in the locker. He changed his number’s contact photo and name into a girl’s name. After that I went straight to your apartment. I seriously forgot the existence of my phone that day since we’re really having fun and I was late for my practice the next day. When Kindaichi heard that I left my phone somewhere, he texted it and that’s the part where you saw it and thought that I was cheating on you. I confronted him after that with Iwa-chan. That's why I know all of it and he said sorry. I never spoke to him after that.”

He let out a sad smile. “That’s basically everything. I tried contacting you, calling, messaging, and waited outside of your apartment for three hours but you weren’t there. I really wanted to talk with you because we both know that I’ll be leaving for Argentina in a few weeks but yeah, it happened and we can’t really change anything about it anymore.”

Tooru’s bandaged hands slowly made its way to yours, clasping both of his palms on your hands. “I’m so sorry that I let it go just like that. I know that I’m three years late but if there’s anything that I can do to make everything right again, I’ll prove it to you in any way you want just to trust me once again. Even as just friends…Y/N, you’re the best girlfriend and best friend I ever had in my whole life and thinking about everything that happened between us and how it ended just like that puts me in misery.”

Fuck. you thought. You don’t know if the world is playing with your vulnerability right now but after hearing everything, you feel like you’re stoned in your place. You feel like your insides are being scrambled and you wanted to vomit every single thing you ate for the last 14 days with him. All this time, it was a prank. A fucking prank that caused so much damage in both of your lives and relationship. A prank that made you lose your former significant other. And the most fucked up thing about it was you could’ve done something to prevent your relationship from crumbling down. It was completely in your control yet you let him slip away from your finger. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness, Oikawa Tooru is still your partner until today.

“Shit! Y/N, I—sorry! Fuck, please don’t cry.” Tooru panicked when he saw the pooling liquid in your eyes start streaming down your cheeks, eventually wetting both of your hands. You didn’t even realize that you were already a crying mess as you hollow your cheeks to prevent the pitiful sobs escaping your mouth.

With much fragility, Tooru enclosed your trembling body into a warm hug that instantly melted all the pain you’ve been feeling. You could hear your hearts beating together against each other’s chest.

“It’s okay. We’re okay now. I finally found you again. I love you so damn much, Y/N.” he whispered in your ear, right hand caressing your back.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, you finally calmed your hurricane. You pulled away, greeting his worried eyes with your puffy and red ones. Upon meeting his gaze, you felt your heart soften as Tooru’s caramel ones penetrated in yours. His lips formed into a small smile when he saw the way you looked at him.

He will never forget those doe eyes of yours. The very first time he saw your eyes, he instantly fell in love and he knows deep inside that he’ll keep on falling in love with you in every chance he gets. In every universe and in every lifetime, his heart only belongs solely to you.

Your faces acted on their own, slowly moving towards each other until your warm lips clasped with each other. The tension that was middling the two of you finally broke today. It started gentle, lips moving together in sync not until Tooru’s hand grabbed your jaw, lightly turning your face to the side to deepen the kiss as he explored the cave of your mouth that he hasn’t tasted for years.

You pushed yourself above him, finally straddling his lap and wrapping both of your arms around his neck as the innocent kiss suddenly turned into a heated one. Tooru would lie if he said that he didn’t miss all of this. The feeling of being intimate with someone that he hasn't given a chance after your break up because he doesn’t want to do this thing if it’s not with you.

Grinding yourself against him, you felt the growing bulge that was now poking your heated core. You couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan that made Tooru halt his action. It turned him on.

“Y/N, do you want to do this?” he asked, eyes now filled with lust. You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth. You could feel your cheeks firing up as embarrassment crept in your soul for wanting him.

“Words, love. I need your consensual words.” he commanded you.

Despite the awkwardness you’re feeling, you couldn’t help yourself especially when you felt him fully erected under you. “Y-yes, Let’s do this.”

That’s all it takes for Tooru to gently place you in the bed and continue kissing your unattended mouth. His hands started roaming around your breasts, squeezing both of it tenderly that earned another moan from you. You felt him smirking against the kiss before he humped above you, aligning his clothed bulge that was restraining against his jeans and rubbing it against your clothed pussy.

It ignited a pool of wetness as you felt the hardness being rubbed in you.

“H-hgggh…Shit,” you cursed, eyes shutting from the luscious friction.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m so hard for you.” Tooru said as he massaged your core with his hand. He felt the wetness leaking from your clothes that made him bite his lip in horniness.

He went down from his position as he pulled the hem of your scrub suits down, completely removing your bottom garment that revealed your wet panties. Tooru mentally cursed at his view. All he did was kiss and teased you and yet, you’re already a pooling mess for him. The way how your body reacts to you is driving him insane.

Slender fingers started circling around your clothed core that sent a jolt of pleasure in your body, making your back arch. Tugging the only piece of your bottoms down, he successfully removed the clothing swiftly. He was welcomed with your dripping pussy for him. He didn’t waste another second and devoured it hungrily, tongue nibbling your clit.

“Ahh!” you let out a loud moan as his warm muscle made contact with your pussy. He was licking and placing soft kisses before alternating it with sharp circles by his tongue. The way he glides his mouth against it was driving you in nuts, almost making you see stars.

“Shit shit Tooru, it feels so good!” you did hesitate to let out another moan when he inserted a finger inside you. When he felt that your walls adjusted to it, he slid another one before moving his digits in and out.

You don’t know what to feel due to the intense pleasure that was being thrown at you when he started scissoring his fingers inside. You felt like you could cum with just his fingers. Tooru’s eyes never left your sight and watched how you’re taking his fingers really good.

“F-fuck, Tooru. Please! I want you…Fuck me! I want to come in your dick,” you pleaded messily as you felt your stomach being tied in knots.

With that, he took his fingers out and started stripping his bottoms. His aching hardened cock finally freed itself and slapped against his abdomen. This wasn’t the first time that you saw Tooru naked and this wasn’t definitely the first time that you saw his member but shit, its length and size never fails to amaze you.

Quickly grabbing his wallet, he took out a piece of rubber which you quickly recognized.

“You really took the condoms earlier?” you asked, eyeing at the packet of condom that is now being torn from its packaging.

“Just a few pieces. For emergency.” he grinned as he slid the rubber on his dick without any problem. You laughed as you already expected that from him.

Positioning himself between your legs, he grabbed the shaft and started rubbing the tip against your pussy, almost teasing you. The damn idiot was smirking the whole time and slammed his dick inside you that made you yelp.

“Fuck! Tooru, what the hell?!”

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

He started rocking his hips slowly before picking a consistent pace that made him groan in pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet, Y/N. Fuck love, I love you and your pussy so much.” he said in between the thrust like he’s worshiping your whole self. You let out a chuckle that was replaced with erotic sounds as he started thrusting in a much faster pace. You felt your walls being stretched out but at the same time, it felt so good that his dick’s the one who’s stretching you out. Tooru found your g-spot in between the thrust that earned you a loud moan as the waves of electricity slammed your body.

“Yes! There! I-it’s so good! Y-you’re so good!” you moaned out as the same spot was abused by his dick repeatedly.

You felt that he’s nearing because his thrust became incredibly faster and impatient. His face was now grunting as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, lips parted in pleasure. Your stomach starts hardening as your core feels like it’s going to combust anytime. Your insides are tightening so much, indicating that you’re also nearing.

“T-tooru, M’gonna c-cum,”

“Me too, love. Me too.”

He replied incoherently, thrusting a few times more before pulling his member out, coming inside the piece of latex. You also released the coil that is forming inside you before he could even pull his dick out.

The both of you were panting so hard with your legs trembling and chest heaving. Tooru collapses on your top with a smile, kissing your lips once more before burying his face on your neck.

“I love you, Y/N.” he said, which made you let out a genuine smile.

Meanwhile, across the wooden door of the master’s bedroom, Tobio was standing with two cups of your favorite 3-in-1 iced coffee that was meant for you and him, right hand completely frozen on the doorknob’s surface as he listened to the alternating erotic moans launching from each other’s mouth while making love.

© lightaflaem. do not repost on any platform.

[ur-littlestgirl]

she’s a bouquet of barbed wire 🕷️

Of - urlittlestgirl ($5 link in bio) 🤍

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 9 March 1914, women battled police in Glasgow during Emmeline Pankhurst’s speaking tour of Scotland. The famous suffragette had been temporarily released from prison to nullify her hunger strike, but now the police sought to rearrest her so she would serve the remainder of her sentence. What they didn’t expect was an organised bodyguard. Pankhurst’s protectors had barbed wire concealed in flower bouquets and clubs concealed in dresses. Some had undertaken martial arts training, and they carried at least one gun. The Glasgow Herald reported that “Unparalleled scenes of disorder took place. The police stormed the platform and for several minutes a fierce struggle took place between them and Mrs Pankhurst’s supporters, several persons being injured. Flower pots and chairs were thrown at the constables, who were obliged to draw their batons. In the course of the mêlée the excitement was intensified by a woman firing several blank rounds from a revolver.” More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/10923/glasgow-suffragettes-fight-police Pictured: a cartoon featuring a suffragette trained in martial arts https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.296224173896073/2226241860894285/?type=3

[ravencincaide]

Oh Sweet Memory of Mine 

Summary: Dazai basks in your bright smile even if tomorrow you won’t remember a thing. OR a walking red flag will always be a walking red flag- even when he tries to be sweet.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Dazai Osamu

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 14: (Back) scratching

Warnings: Dark content inside including things like; cursing, blood, biting and fighting, early onset of memory degenerative disease, a walking red flag with very light hints at intimacy and abuse, 

Enjoy ?

___________________________________________________________

The flowers were as ridiculous as his behaviour.  

A huge rather unorganized bunch consisting of carnations, roses, tulips and lilies– pretty much any and every flowering blossom he could get his hands on at this time of year. They were accompanied with some nameless greenery awkwardly stuffed in between. Dazai was beginning to regret buying said greenery- the stems were hard and awkward to carry, the shrubs almost painfully digging into his bandaged fingers. And while he didn’t mind the pain- relished in it- he was adamant not to let you get pricked by them. 

Still you insisted each bouquet was not complete without some filler leaves to guide the eye or a branch to give it more asymmetrical volume. No, rationally Dazai knew it was best he bought the shrubs directly instead of having to run out to the store to get them. Even if at that moment he wasn’t particularly fond of them. 

Looking from the outside however, that was impossible to tell. If anything, Dazai appeared almost happy; a skip in his step then a playful twirl as he sidestepped a flirtatious butterfly of the night. Then paused, took her hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a kiss of apology. “ You’re so gorgeous today. But not now unfortunately- another time maybe, Belladonna” he winked then off on his way he was, not stopping once until he reached a gated community on the very outskirts of the city. 

The walls were high: an almost unscalable construction of sanded down brick and barbed wire on top. The entrance was also the only exit, a large anglo saxon metallic gate with both an old fashioned knocking mechanism and modern keycode with intercom. Balancing the box of wine on his knee and gripping onto the flowers with his other hand, Dazai put in the code. The sound of electricity buzzing echoed before a click could be heard. Hopping on one foot he leaned his weight into the left side of the gate, making it swing open with surprising ease. He caught himself from stumbling, eyes whining for a brief second. Then he chuckled and shook his head at himself. Of course they would finally oil the hinges after six months of complaints- and not a day too soon. 

Turning his back to the gate Dazai drew in a deep breath, his nose stinging with familiar dust and grime of Yokohama from ten years ago. The smell of food stalls, traders and alcohol reached his senses. He could hear the yelling; orders called out in a ramen stand, men laughing at the others' jokes, merchants pushing over-priced tinkets onto naive customers and women bargaining with each other over the cost of overripe fruit. The only thing missing were children: homeless brats pickpocketing passers by or vandalizing houses. Despite how big of an issue this used to be, at that very moment, there wasn’t a single kid in sight. 

It was almost amazing how they managed to replicate the Yokohama of ten years ago. Down to the chipped paint on buildings and gravel filled holes in the ground.

Feeling eyes on him, Dazai turned his head to the right, in the direction of a set of benches where half a dozen men sat, dressed in worn out suit pants, white shirts and with the matching suit coat thrown haphazardly over their shoulders. A distance away from them was a small stall serving local sake. The man from said stall had his attention on Dazai. Dazai flashed a smile at the man, as if to say that he was fine and didn’t need the man's help. The man in turn rolled his eyes and turned back to his duties: watching this group of young men on the benches throwing rocks and dealing cards as if it were dead serious poker. Then as one of the men won, the others started yelling at him: their hands darting to the inside of their coat pockets- typical mannerism of someone reaching for a gun. 

“ You dare cheat the port mafia? That’s it I’ve got you red handed now and I’m bringing you in!” the man yelled. The temper quickly rose in the group. Surely a fight would break out at any second. 

“Port Mafia?!” The cheater questioned before he smirked and nodded, looking at ease “ Ahh yes Nakahara-san is such a good executive.” 

“ The very best!” The others agreed in unison before settling back down and beginning to deal the cards and rocks again. Acting as if nothing had happened- back to silently studying the other men in the circle. Reading their body language and clues about one another. 

Information gathering at its finest. 

Turning his back to them, Dazai barely made it two steps before he heard the man yell again;“ You dare cheat the port mafia? That’s it I’ve got you red handed now and I’m bringing you in!”

This time however he did not spare them a second glance. No, his feet began carrying him further inside this replica of the once familiar city. His body knowing where to take him without his mind needing to think- after all he had walked that same road more times than he could count. Past the Port Mafia base, round the corner from the old ADA office and then to the obscured apartment complex at the very edge, inches away from the park. Through that park was the Yokohama river- a perfect place for sunny dates and late night swims. 

It was a shame the wall cut off this place half way through the park- he would have liked to see the government replicating an entire river. Seeing them panicking and scratching their heads in fear as the engineers and economists screamed at one another from the opposite sides of the room simply because one sheet of seemingly meaningless paper was covered in faulty edits. 

Edits that Dazai may or may not have been responsible for. 

Coming up to the apartment door, Dazai balanced his purchased gifts with the help of his leg while he dug in his pocket for a set of keys. Pulling out an old fashioned, worn down tag with the large key attached to it, he pushed it into the lock of the door. He turned it once, twice and then when it wouldn’t turn anymore he pulled it out and swung the door opened.

“ My dear, I’m home~” Dazai yelled out, dancing inside and kicking the door shut behind himself. The smell of herbal tea and freshly baked cookies filled his senses. The familiar smell made his grin wider, yet somehow the smile did not quite reach his eyes anymore. 

“ Oh love, you’re already home?”

 He followed the sound of your voice to the kitchen where you stood above the newly baked treats, with a cute little white apron om. Your shaking hands gripped a piping bag full of cream frosting. It seems you were trying to outline the baked out snowflake cookies to make them more festive. The sight made him chuckle slightly as he set down his gifts on the floor before he waved the huge bouquet of flowers back and forth. “ Tada! I thought it’s been a while since you arranged some, right Y/N?” 

“ Oh my love you got me flowers! “ You exclaimed, clasping your hands together in glee, after having tossed your current project to the side. The bag of frosting found its way back into the bowl with the rest of the fluffy mixture from which it came- but just barely. But you didn’t care about it one bit.  “ Dazai, they’re beautiful” you exclaimed, reaching out to take the bouquet from him. You buried your face in it, inhaling deeply the fresh sweet smell before looking back up at your lover. “ Help me arrange them?” 

Dazai chuckled a little and reached his hand out, his thumb and finger wiping off the bright orange specks of pollen off the tip of your nose. You giggled sheepishly at him, your heart soaring from happiness. Dazai moved over and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder. “ hmm in a moment” he hummed his nose buried in the crook of your neck. 

You laughed again before laying the flowers out beside your baked goods. You studied each and every blossom, leaf and branch Dazai gifted you with. Your mind begins to envision one- no two different designs you could create. You were so engrossed in the task you almost missed Dazai’s hands playing with the edge of your shirt. Almost. 

“ H-hey Dazai?” You stuttered your face a dark tomato red. One of your hands reached up and grasped his hand in your own, interlocking your fingers together so he’d stop trying to undress you. Still his long fingers reached for your skin, his nails scratching at your clothes, your waist, your stomach and your back. Anywhere those long appendages could reach. His lips were more passionate on your neck, making you shiver under him. Your body grew warm with desire. The way his lips lingered over your pulse, his hot tongue on your skin– it drove you a little mad.  You felt nervous and perhaps a little embarrassed; it was not even noon yet and all the windows in your apartment were wide opened and- you cut your trail of thought off as you felt him lick at your skin more desperately now. 

You shivered again, biting your lip to prevent a needy moan from escaping. As he nipped at your neck, you blushed a darker shade of red. “D-Dazai,--” you swallowed and gripped his hand tighter “ I– ehh we should put the flowers in water before–” you gasped, your eyes widening

The desire and burning need was replaced by icy dread as you heard a quiet pop; the soft skin giving away to his sharp fangs.

Your cry broke the silence of the apartment; a blood curling scream as your mind registered what was happening. What your so-called lover was. A blood-sucking beast! A goddamn vampire of all things. The very thing you hated the most in this damned world. Before you could say anything Dazai shifted, his free hand reaching up and clasping over your lips muffling your cries. Your struggles- a pitiful attempt at fighting back against him- were easily fought off.

 Dazai pushed you forward-- one knee wedged between your legs, while his weight pushed you up against the counter; one hand over your mouth, one hand clasping your interlocked fingers in his own. Not letting go no matter how much you pulled, trashed or tugged. Your non dominant hand was free and you did your best to pry him off your neck. But it was completely futile. 

He was stronger- as a man and as a beast. 

The sound of gulping filled the room. An eager sucking sound that drained your very lifeforce right out of you. You bit at the hand on your mouth- expecting him to pull it away from you. Instead Dazai moaned against your neck, his knee pressing harder between your legs. You felt burning in your eyes as tears ran down your face. Your heart tearing itself apart at the knowledge that the man you loved more than life itself was nothing but a blood sucking demon. 

The very definition of an abomination! 

Once more you tried to struggle- to resist and fight back. You bit harder at his hand on your face and felt him tighten it- bruising you- a warning to behave or he’d snap your jaw in half. You could feel the ache in your face and had no doubt that he’d do it without blinking an eye. It made you freeze in fear and betrayal. How could the man you love do this to you? 

You felt weak; weaker and weaker for every clunk he took until you no longer had the energy to fight back. You slumped against him, dark dots playing in your vision. Was he going to kill you? 

No. 

Dazai detached himself from your neck and licked at the wound like a dog. It made you shiver again- this time in disgust rather than affection and desire. His hand dropped away from your face and landed on your waist, squeezing tightly. “ See Y/N it wasn't so bad, now was it?” he purred with an all too pleased smirk. 

“ I fucking hate you, you bastard” you hissed as you felt the room sway. His knee between your legs being the only thing keeping you up. 

“ Sure you do my love, sure you do” Dazai taunted before he let go of your hand and moved his knee back quickly. You stumbled, your legs giving out from you. Before you could crash to the floor completely he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and under your knees, picking you up bridal style. His eyes staring down at your own, watching with boredom, as your expression slowly changes; the emotions of hate, betrayal and anger dulled away into a blank expression. 

Then he began carrying out of the kitchen, going exceptionally slow. 

After a few moments he felt you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder, a drained  expression on your face, your voice hazy with sleep: “ Oh my love, you got me flowers.” 

Dazai hummed and pressed a kiss to your cheek, leaving a dark red bloody print of his lips on your pale skin. He continued moving towards your bedroom. Some days it broke him that your mind was too damaged to make new memories- forever stuck in that same last safe moment you experienced ten years ago. Other days however it came in handy. 

After all, no matter what he did to you, you would always forget all about it by morning. 

[mastcrmarksman]

Clint Barton and his trick arrows

Most of these were designed/made by Clint Barton, but other collaborators and inventors of trick arrows that Clint includes in his quiver and arsenal are Hank Pym, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and modified designs of Buck Crisholm's original trick arrows. Special guest arrows by Wanda Maximoff and Stephen Strange.

under the read more is the exhaustive list.

All types of arrows/heads that Clint has used

Sonic / Hypersonic

Explosive Tip / Demolition Blast / Power Blast / Blast

Smoke Bomb

Flare

Tear Gas

Acid

Suction Tip

Cable / Steel Cable

Putty

Bola

Electro

Net

Rocket

Bomerang

Pym Particles

USB

Fire

Freeze

Vibranium

Sleeping Gas

EMP

Adamantium

Tranquilizer

Suction Pulley Cable

Rusting Chemical

Tangling Rope

Razor

Sonar Screech

Stun Blast

Weight-nullifying ulta sonic vibration

Steel Lock

Mageenetic Intensifier

Sneeze Smog

Sulfur

Electro-suction

Tear Gas

Granade

Diamond Tipped

Magnetic

Blackout

Smog

Foam

Electromagentic Cable

Vibro-shaft

Phosphorus

Boomerang Tuning fork

Grappling claw

Incendiary

Parachute

Two prong

Inkjet

Blunt

Hellfire-infused

Electronic Disruptor

Parachute Bouquet

Clamp

Crescent Razor

Turbine

Battering Ram

Screamer

Ant Man Ride-along

Bolo, Net, & Glue

Neutralizer

Fireworks

Immunization Gas

Stink

Buzzsaw

Grounding

Adamantium electro

Training Mount

"Can Opener"

Constictor

Slippy Grease

Cupid's Magic Arrow

Null-field with Wasp ride-along

Heat-seeking Electro

Signaling

Laser

Sonic & Freeze

Tracer

Grappling line

Collapsible

Stasis

Sunburst

Polymer

Scrambler

Chaos Magic

Anti-magic charm

Antarctic Vibranium

Electro-net

Boxing Glove

Asgardian

Photonic

Sonic Suction

Liquid Nitrogen

Barbed wire

Suction sensor

Water

Portal

Cushion

Freeze

Tracking/Tracker

[miss-celestia13]

Don’t Fall Asleep

Elspeth’s dull life has been transformed into something frightening against her will. Boring days turn into dread filled nights. She will soon learn that kindness can lead to obsession and often, it turns deadly.

Part one of a two part original story. Part two will come soon. Suspense rather than horror but written with spooky season in mind.

TW: Animal Death, not explicitly described but the results of it are mentioned.

Elspeth

It started with the scent of stale lilacs.

Elspeth could never find the source of it. It haunted her wherever she went. In her car, on the street, in her bedroom, and even in the doctor’s waiting room, that powdery, sickly sweet, and musty scent clogged her nose no matter where she found herself. It wasn’t long before the flowers themselves started to appear, broken and scattered across the ground like an arrow leading her home. She quickly missed the stench of the town and despised the sight of all blooms as she went about her day. Not long after, she found multiple crushed and rotting bouquets loitering on her doorstep. Barbed wire held them together and she thought she was hallucinating at first, but when they didn’t vanish as she kicked them, she knew it was real. She’d left them there, and by morning light, they were gone.

She soon wished the flowers were all she had to worry about.

A week passed uneventfully after the bouquets were gone. She almost forgot about them. Almost. The gifts began to show up. Nothing anyone would want. A decapitated teddy bear stuffed with rusty nails and soaked in a foul-smelling liquid in her gym bag after a workout, it hadn’t been there before she entered the gym. A rose stripped of all its petals on her desk at work. A doll with thumb tacks pushed through its eyes sat on top of her garbage can one morning. Culminating in two dead sparrows with crushed wings, like someone closed their fist around their tiny, delicate bodies, rested on her doorstep. Paranoia became her new normal. She saw shadows and threats everywhere she turned. She took to carrying pepper spray and a switchblade, one hand always in her pocket as she walked to work or to the store. Her head was on a swivel as she strolled, swinging from side to side whenever she felt eyes on the back of her exposed neck. But it fell quiet again. Only a hint of rotting flowers on the wind caught her attention as the days wore on.

The first note she found didn’t frighten her. But the second made her race home, and she spent the night in darkness, peeking through a crack in the blinds with every sound outside her safe haven. The first note said simply, “I see you.” The second, “I know you, Elspeth.” She interrogated her friends and family, hoping they were playing a callous joke, but all played dumb or were just dumb. They joked and laughed, thinking she was being dramatic or overthinking something minor again. No one seemed to think it was anything to worry about, and she felt silly, stupid, and immature for getting upset. Still, those poor, broken birds lingered in her mind and followed her into her dreams. When the third note showed up on her pillow one calm Sunday morning, her home no longer felt like hers, and she called the police.

Before bed the night before, she double and triple-checked the apartment before retiring and only allowed herself to sleep once she was sure everything was secure. Waking up to that crumpled, hastily scrawled message knocked the wind from her sails.

You can’t keep me out, Elspeth. I’m already in.

The police all but laughed at her concerns. Despite the photos she’d taken, the notes, and the constant feeling of being watched, they didn’t seem to care. When she asked if they could provide any protection or advise her on what to do, they sighed and smiled condescendingly.

“I’m sorry, Miss, there’s nothing we can do. Are you sure it isn’t an ex you pissed off or a friend playing a prank?”

Elspeth scowled at them and replied, “No. I’ve asked them, and they said it’s not them, and I believe them. My last ex-boyfriend lives four states over. We didn’t end badly enough to inspire this.”

The cop clicked his tongue and shrugged as he blew off her concerns, and she felt like a child as she saw them laughing in their car before they sped off. After that, she kept it to herself until things started to go missing. First, she blamed her own forgetfulness. Minor stuff like her glasses not being on the nightstand where she left them or losing her keys for a day, they showed up in her handbag after she called her landlord begging for a new set. Items would be moved around ever so slightly when she got home from work or the gym. Not enough to frighten her, just enough to puzzle her. Ornaments moved a half inch from where she put them and she noticed some of her clothing had disappeared every time she did the laundry. She got used to it and brushed most things off to keep from falling into a pit of despair since no one would listen.

She came home from work later than usual one dreary Tuesday night and looked forward to climbing into a hot bath. There was no sign of anyone near her apartment and she spent longer than usual soaking her troubles away. It wasn’t until she sat down, wrapped in her fluffy robe and eating a quick dinner, that she noticed it. Every photo on display had been vandalized. The ones of her on her own had childish hearts drawn around her head. But the images of her with other people, men especially, everyone else’s faces, had been scratched off and marked over with thick black ink. One word written over and over made her blood stall and freeze in her veins.

MINE

Her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest as she dialed her brother’s number, and her hysterical babbling made him drive over despite the late hour. She grabbed the biggest knife she had from the kitchen as she paced through the rooms and jumped at every car door slamming or noise from her neighbors. Nerves frayed and breath too shallow, she screamed as someone pounded on her door. Her brother’s voice cut through the racket, and the tears she refused to cry for weeks finally slid free of her lashes as she hurriedly unlocked the door to let him in. Jamie’s hazel eyes went wide as he saw the knife trembling in her clammy hand, and his usual carefree demeanor fell away as he urged her to put it down.

“Elsa, you’re more likely to hurt yourself. Put it down and show me what happened.”

She swallowed the jagged lump in her throat and handed him the blade, moving like a zombie as she led him to the wall of photos. No explanation was necessary and she watched as the realisation she was being hunted sank through her brother. Jamie didn’t crack any jokes or attempt to tell her she was being stupid. His face hardened as he eyed the pictures, and the silence spun out so long she was twitchy on her feet when he finally looked at her.

“You came home to this? It wasn’t there this morning?”

Elspeth shook her head, “It wasn’t there. I know because I always look at them when I come in here. I locked the doors and windows before leaving. I know I did. I don’t know how they got in.”

Something hot sparked in her brother’s eyes as he glanced around the room and tossed questions at her. She answered with the same things she had told him before, but now he believed her, and a weight lifted from her shoulders as he ordered her to sit down while he checked the apartment. It didn’t take him long, but it felt like an eternity passed as time stopped making sense. When he called her name from her bedroom, she prided herself on not jumping as she got up to see what he wanted. She found him staring into her nightstand drawer where she kept the smutty books she liked to read, and her heart sank to her feet as he held one up. Marked all over the cover and on the pages was another word.

SLUT

There was no way for her to contain the sob that spilled from her as she ran to her chest of drawers and hauled them open. All were empty of anything but clothing except one, her underwear drawer. All her fancy, expensive lingerie had been ripped to shreds like something with claws or sharp teeth took offense to them. Everything else was fine. The frumpier items she wore during her period or for comfort remained whole and neatly packed. But underneath it all, the familiar stink of stale lilacs fast permeated the room, and she frantically pulled everything out as Jamie watched on in disbelief. A veritable graveyard of decomposing lilacs decorated the bottom of the drawer. The cloying smell seeped into her lungs, and she retched as saliva flooded her mouth. Heat sparkled over her skin as she bolted to the bathroom, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. Her knees cracked off the tiled floor, throat burning as bile demanded a way out and she emptied her stomach into the toilet. Sweat and sour vomit couldn’t compete with the taint of lilacs as she heaved and shuddered, hands clutching the bowl as her body wracked with sobs. She wasn’t aware how long she was sick, it wouldn’t stop, and she could taste those fucking blooms through it all. Jamie brought her a glass of cold water and waited until she’d stopped shaking enough to hold it and drink some before he told her the plan.

“I’ve packed you a bag. You’ll call in sick for the week and stay with me for now. I’ll have Paul stay here and see if anything happens.”

Elspeth wanted to refuse and hated the idea of leaving her home. The thought of Jamie’s best friend staying there and risking himself didn’t sit right with her.

“We should call the police. They didn’t help last time, but maybe they will now.” She tried but knew it wouldn’t happen.

“No. They won’t help until someone tries to kill you. They’re useless. Leave it with me and Paul. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Paul was a former marine. She’d known him since she was 12 and trusted him like a brother. He never minded when she tagged along with him and Jamie as kids and she knew he’d do anything for her. He’d helped scare off a few handsy and overly aggressive men whenever she joined them on a night out. Realistically, she knew he would be fine, but she cared about him, and emotion didn’t respond to logic.

“What if something happens? I can’t live with that, Jamie.”

“You have to. You’re coming with me. You can walk out, or I’ll drag you out, your choice.”

Huffing, she nodded, defeated and fragile, as she switched everything off, and they left the apartment. Once she locked the door, Jamie took her keys and led her to his car. He scanned the dark street for any threats as they approached the vehicle and found nothing waiting for them. She held her breath until she was safely buckled in the passenger side, and he tossed her bag in the back before he was seated beside her. They soon sped away, and neither saw the shadow creeping along the side of her building to see them off. They were gone as it slipped inside a car neither had paid attention to. She didn’t get much sleep in Jamie’s spare room for the first few days, but her job allowed her to work from home for as long as she needed, so money wouldn’t be a worry. Her cell phone buzzed with messages from friends and family, all feeling guilty they hadn’t believed her now that Jamie could back her up. It pissed her off that they trusted his words but told her she was being dramatic when she first brought it to them.

For a few weeks, all went quiet, and Paul’s daily reports were always empty. She rarely left the house, and Jamie was with her when she did. He was her shadow everywhere she went, and it smothered her. She was locked in a golden cage and wasn’t sure who held the keys to her freedom. It wore on her. Her nerves were flayed and exposed to the slightest change in the atmosphere or noise outside. She almost wished something would happen just to give her a reason for feeling like she was in a life-or-death situation. Jamie had to work overnight one sunny Friday, and his clipped voice message warned her to only open the door if he gave her the code word. He wouldn’t be home until lunch the following day, and she looked forward to doing nothing alone as she locked her phone and changed into her pajamas.

Cocooned in blankets on his couch, mindless reality TV shows played on the TV as she ate the takeout she ordered and relaxed for the first time in weeks. Cozy, warm, and belly full, she was dozing off and on as the night drew in and the clock ticked past midnight. She burrowed deeper into the blankets and was too comfortable to get up and go to bed. Her dreams were peaceful. Not a specter or horror to be found as she slept. Lulling her into a false sense of security. Startled awake by her phone ringing, she answered without checking and was immediately alert, tired eyes clearing so fast her head spun as someone breathed heavily and made strange clicking noises on the other side of the phone.

“Who is this? If this is a prank -“she shouted but was cut off by a horrific chuckle; the laugh was so wrong, so wretched it lifted the hair on her nape as she listened.

“Don’t fall asleep…” a croaky, harsh voice growled before the line went dead, and her pulse pounded in her neck as her phone slid from her hands.

Something battered the door so hard it shook in its frame as she ran past. She slapped a hand over her mouth to trap her shocked squeal as she skidded to a halt. The wood groaned and complained as deafening thumps rocked it. Torn between wanting to run and ending this now, Elspeth froze and counted her furious heartbeats between each kick on the door. By the time she gathered enough courage to look through the peephole, something was shoved under the crack in the bottom. A single photo of her and Jamie leaving the house the other day. Rage ignited so fast she was dizzy as she pressed herself against the door and squinted through the peephole. All she saw was darkness; it took so long to unlock it that whoever it was had vanished before she pulled it open and stuck her head outside.

The dimly lit street stretched on, and the voices of those returning home after a night out rang like warning bells as she searched for any sign of her stalker. Slamming the door and ignoring the urge to cry, Elspeth made a decision and was gone from the house long before Jamie was due to come home. She was sick of living in fear and hiding away. It couldn’t go on, and she would go insane if it did. Paul wouldn’t be happy, but she would let him stay with her so long as she could return to some form of normality. When Paul answered her panicked knocking, his frown was permanent after she explained and pushed past him to get inside.

“Jamie won’t like this, Elspeth. I should take you back before he notices.”

She pinned him with a death glare and retorted, “I don’t care. Jamie’s house isn’t safe either. You can stay on the couch if you want, but I’m not going back.”

Paul sighed as he looked down at her, he was so much taller than she was, and she felt like a child as he told her the score.

“It’s been quiet here, but that doesn’t mean you can relax. You go nowhere without me. You speak to no one and tell me what’s happening, no matter how stupid. If they call again, give me the phone. I can’t protect you if you’re running head-first into danger. Understand?”

She nodded, “Fine. Wait until morning to tell Jamie, or he’ll freak out. I’m going to bed.”

“If you hear anything, shout for me. If you need me, even if it’s just to sit with you, tell me and I’ll be there.”

Elspeth was stunned, he was being sincere and she only saw genuine concern in his eyes.

“Okay, I will. But get some sleep yourself or neither of us will be any good to anyone.”

He agreed and waved her through, and she didn’t spare him another moment as she kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed. Her mind turned the same question over repeatedly. Who could they be? There were no answers, only more questions and they pelted her one after another as she tossed and turned. The sound of the wind whistling through the alley did nothing to ease her as she bemoaned the loss of her formerly boring life. It was a slow torture to wait for death to come knocking. The sky outside was already brightening when she finally managed to snatch some sleep, and she was dead to the world.

***

Quicksilver flashed as the knife effortlessly sank through thick rubber. Air hissed as he tugged it free to repeat the motion on all four tires. His love had hailed a taxi and vanished from the prison her brother placed her in. His little bird was free to flutter her lovely wings, and he planned to show her how high she could fly by his side. The empty street seemed to hold its breath as he stepped back to study the vehicle and nodded before prowling away to lose himself amongst the shadows once more. The taste of victory was sweet on his tongue, but he couldn’t savor it yet, to do so would be folly while she wasn’t with him.

Another man stood between him and his little bird. Once he was gone, the way would be clear, and all his planning would come to fruition. First, he had another gift and a poison for the one keeping her from him. The poison would wait for a better opportunity but the gift would be perfect for now. His pockets were heavy, the flowers he lovingly plucked and pulled apart safely tucked away inside along with his present. She was a darling little thing, just screaming for someone to take her in and mold her into something wondrous and horrifying. They never came quietly or easily, but he perfected the art of wooing long before setting his sights on her. Women loved flowers and tokens of affection, and he loved to give them. His latest was a work of art hinting at how they met, and his fingers tingled with the urge to give it to her as he followed the sidewalk to his car. It wouldn’t be long until she joined him on this walk, his skin was too tight, and his shriveled heart soared as he peeled away from the curb.

He parked a few streets behind her apartment building and slunk through the alley that would connect him to her. Dried leaves whispered over concrete as the wind picked up, the muted thump of his boots barely heard over his excited panting as he spied her bedroom window, and the light was off. There was a gate to the communal gardens, but it creaked too loudly to use. He’d found a weak spot in the fence months before, and he went there now, moved the broken slats aside, and squeezed through. Holding his breath as he crouched, he waited for someone to shout that they’d seen him. Nothing came, and he crawled over to her window, sitting with his back against the building as he strained to hear her breathing. The windows were too thick, and he bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted rich buttery copper to distract him from his suffocating disappointment.

He waited. He was patient and eternally confident he would have everything he wanted soon. He didn’t risk sending her a message until the sun rose above the fence and the world was painted scarlet. He climbed to his feet on stiff knees and faced her window, pressing a gloved hand to the pane of glass as if he could feel her through it. Her soft curves, teasing grin, long blonde hair he wanted to wrap around his fist, and her lullaby voice that soothed even the bloodiest parts of him. It hooked him from the moment she’d smiled and thanked him for handing her a packet of rice from a high shelf in her local grocery store. Trusting, warm, and kind, she was perfect in every way. He’d known she was the one when only gratitude shone in her amber eyes, not horror. His scarred and twisted visage scared even the biggest men, but she smiled like he was beautiful. He knew he had to have her. He would not sleep or breathe easily until she was safe in his arms.

With a pained sigh, he dropped his hand and pulled out his newest burner phone. Her number was the only one saved, and it took mere seconds to send a text. He wished he could see her face when she read it, but didn’t dare reveal himself yet. Once his pockets were emptied of the flowers and his gift, he was off, racing against daylight as he returned to his car and took the long way home.

***

Elspeth groaned and mumbled curses as she blindly reached for her phone on her nightstand. It had buzzed incessantly for minutes, and she was already sick of the day before she’d fully opened her eyes. It stopped as her hand wrapped around it. She squinted through the brightness of the screen as she saw the multitude of messages from Jamie, starting from long before he should have known, and she wanted to punch Paul. She scrolled through them, they began with him raging at her and ended with him telling her to stick with Paul and he’d call her later. That woke her up, and she knew something awful had happened. She was going to call him and demand answers when the phone went off again with a text from an unknown number. Her heart was in her mouth as she opened it and read it.

Unknown: Soon, little bird. Open your window.

“Paul!” She yelled, scrambling off her bed and tripping over her own feet as it burst open. A panicked, half-asleep man filled the doorway, and she handed him the phone.

Her eyes prickled, and her skin itched as she glanced at her window and imagined a grotesque monster standing on the other side of her blinds. Paul swore, vile and shocking, as he grabbed her and dragged her to the living room. He pushed her down on the couch and told her to stay there. She listened and waited as he ran out the back door to the garden. It was only seconds, but it ebbed like cooling tar as she waited. Paul was inside, door locked, and carrying something with him moments later, and her pulse was a metronome in her throat as she scented the old lilacs. Her head shook, and she mumbled, “no, no, no” as Paul nodded and looked resigned.

“I’m sorry, Elsa, but I have to show you. Maybe it’ll give you a clue as to who it is.”

She could see how badly he wanted to shield her from it, which terrified her. Her face was numb, her tongue too thick to form words, and her eyes were sheened with tears as he held the item up. It was another soft toy and one she knew too well, and a sad little whimper trickled out of her as he turned the headless tiger upside down. It’s limbs were missing and black pen had scribbled over its body. Instead of beads or stuffing, grains of hard white rice showered to the floor and clattered off the wood like gunshots. Her childhood comfort toy was now an instrument of terror. Confusion swirled and swelled. She hadn’t even noticed it had been taken. Paul watched her too closely, hazel eyes softening as she struggled to keep everything she felt locked away. When she broke, he dropped everything he held and embraced her, holding her together as she dissolved into distress.

He rubbed her back, muttering soothing words into her hair as she clung to his shirt and stained it with salt. His heart was steady and strong; she counted the beats as hers went wild, and she couldn’t get enough air. Great gasping gulps of it didn’t help. His scent was as familiar to her as her own as she released a month's worth of fear on him. He didn’t complain, held her until she wrung herself dry, and didn’t let go when she quietened.

“Look, it’s bad. I’m not going to lie to you. I’ll call the police so we have a log of this. It’s escalating, and we don’t know how long we have until their patience runs out. I’m not going anywhere, but I need to get my phone from the mantle. That okay?”

Her mouth wouldn’t work, so she nodded and choked back a whimper when his warmth was gone, and she stifled a shiver. They’d been inside more than once. They’d sat outside her window for god knows how long, and she’d been unaware. She wanted to take a boiling hot shower, scrub herself raw, and do it again so she felt clean. Her mind flicked through mundane memories as she tried to figure out who it could be. Why rice? Why lilacs? Why her? Why any of it? She had no answers and could only listen as Paul demanded an officer be sent to catalog this latest incident. Once he hung up, he was back at her side and looked so defeated she wanted to apologize. Neither said a word, too lost in their shared worries to bother telling each other pretty lies that could comfort them, and she didn’t shrug his arm off when he slung it around her shoulders.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you for reading, and if you reblog or leave a comment, thank you for that too. Part two will be uploaded in a few days.

Part two: Don’t Wait Around

[radiophd]

the ex -- bouquet of barbed wire

[genericruleroftheflies]

Starting my watching James Aubrey filmography Journey starting with Bouquet of Barbed Wire.

Here’s a clip for y’all to see him grown up!

“And the guy in the shop is kinda trusting”

“You mean he fancies you!”

“Maybe…?!”

[tactlesstuesdays]

here's an excerpt from a chiles fic that if things go according to a non existent plan will be posted on ao3 in a few hours

Chapa wasn't sure how any of this had happened.

Chapa is restless, harsh and despairing. She's been described as being too abrasive and difficult to love, mainly by her parents. She can recall their pejorative jibes verbatim. She exuded an air of power that demanded respect; she wounded others just because she could. Cruelty seemed to be her default mode and she sought pleasure by inflicting pain on others.

But she isn't, truly. She might be described as a botched creature, her skin stitched back together with thread combining the worst qualities with the pleasant ones. Chapa grew up as a girl with pigtails that allowed adults sick with cynicism and despair to mistreat her for a decade, to abuse her forgiving nature. It's not a surprise that when she found her escape, her anger turned incoherent, unidentifiable and inconsolable. She was damaged, malformed, and still possessed the dependency of a child because that's all she was. She was a child that had to beg to be loved.

There's a lump in her throat the size of a cherry pit and Chapa hasn't been able to swallow it since she was eight. But Chapa could love, she did love. She did have love inside of her, it often tore at her skin like barbed wire. She just never knew how to use it because no one had ever taken the time to show her how to love. She understood how easy it was to inherently love but not to purposefully love something. All Chapa would've ever wanted was a love that didn't remind her of pain.

So, truly, Chapa wasn't sure how any of this had happened. Chapa remembers meeting him. How his brown eyes, dribbled hazel in the golden sunlight, and warm hands warmed her frozen, frostbitten hands and her dull heart. And if she was being honest, Miles reminded her of all the gentle things in life like tea when it's cold and oversized sweaters to sleep in. He reminded Chapa of all the reasons to take a chance even if a place seems so far away and out of reach. Miles was like when the sun diffuses rays of yellow, orange, and pink across the skyline as it sinks and the way anyone's face lights up as they smile; Miles was the embodiment of all of the beautiful things in life.

It really shouldn't have been such a shock that butterflies began to roil in Chapa's stomach, furious at being trapped inside of her, fighting and demanding to be freed. It would almost be nauseating, if it hadn't left a pleasant tingle in her, starting from the scarce hairs on the back of her neck before trailing down to the tips of her toes.

She'd started to fall in love with Miles and it frightened her. In a fraction of a moment, she fell in love with him; and tumbled down a rabbit hole that she didn't believe a thousand lifetimes would free her from. It was frightening. He's the centre of her universe in a split second. Miles brought her flowers and now Chapa makes a point of not gawking at the bouquet every time she passes them.

[thnksfrthmmrs]

petewentz: Send our regards

To a nation on fire

And with love

A bouquet of barbed wire

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[The art is "The First Supper" by Susan Dorothea White] + Imagine the Angels of Bread - by Martín Espada

This is the year that squatters evict landlords, gazing like admirals from the rail of the roof-deck or levitating hands in praise of steam in the shower;

this is the year that shawled refugees deport judges who stare at the floor and their swollen feet as files are stamped with their destination;

this is the year that police revolvers, stove-hot, blister the fingers of raging cops, and nightsticks splinter in their palms;

this is the year that dark-skinned men lynched a century ago return to sip coffee quietly with the apologizing descendants of their executioners.

This is the year that those who swim the border's undertow and shiver in boxcars are greeted with trumpets and drums at the first railroad crossing on the other side;

this is the year that the hands pulling tomatoes from the vine uproot the deed to the earth that sprouts the vine, the hands canning tomatoes are named in the will that owns the bedlam of the cannery;

this is the year that the eyes stinging from the poison that purifies toilets awaken at last to the sight of a rooster-loud hillside,

pilgrimage of immigrant birth; this is the year that cockroaches become extinct, that no doctor finds a roach embedded in the ear of an infant;

this is the year that the food stamps of adolescent mothers are auctioned like gold doubloons, and no coin is given to buy machetes for the next bouquet of severed heads in coffee plantation country.

If the abolition of slave-manacles began as a vision of hands without manacles, then this is the year; if the shutdown of extermination camps began as imagination of a land without barbed wire or the crematorium, then this is the year;

if every rebellion begins with the idea that conquerors on horseback are not many-legged gods, that they too drown if plunged in the river,

then this is the year.

So may every humiliated mouth, teeth like desecrated headstones, fill with the angels of bread.

—Martin Espada [Rob Brezsny]

[noctisfox]

Love Isn't Hearts and Flowers

It's Blood and Guts

Bouquets Of Barbed Wire

[dhruvanand07]

Film Review: Night and Fog (1956)

Alain Resnais’s Night and Fog (Nuit et Brouillard) is a visceral and haunting documentary that delves into the horrors of the Holocaust, confronting viewers with the stark realities of human cruelty. Though only 32 minutes long, it is one of the most powerful and essential films ever made, unflinchingly exposing the atrocities of Nazi concentration camps while forcing audiences to reflect on memory, complicity, and the fragility of humanity.

Narrative and Structure

The film juxtaposes tranquil, contemporary (1955) images of abandoned concentration camps with harrowing archival footage and photographs from the Holocaust. This deliberate contrast between the serene present and the nightmarish past underscores the lasting scars of these atrocities and the deceptive peace that lingers over the sites of such immense suffering.

Narrated by Michel Bouquet, with a script by poet and Holocaust survivor Jean Cayrol, the documentary navigates the systematic machinery of death orchestrated by the Nazis. It begins with the camps’ construction, moves through the horrifying reality of their operation, and ends with a solemn warning about humanity’s potential to repeat such crimes if vigilance falters.

Themes

At its core, Night and Fog is a meditation on collective memory and moral responsibility. Resnais examines not only the actions of the perpetrators but also the roles of bystanders, collaborators, and institutions that enabled the Holocaust. The film compels viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about human complicity and the consequences of indifference.

The title itself, derived from the Nazi euphemism for the disappearance of political prisoners (“Nacht und Nebel”), reflects the film’s preoccupation with erasure—of lives, histories, and even accountability. It asks, pointedly: who will remember, and how will we prevent history from repeating itself?

Visual and Cinematic Style

Resnais employs a stark, visual dichotomy: modern-day color footage of the camps contrasts with black-and-white archival imagery. The decaying barracks, empty fields, and rusting barbed wire in the present evoke a sense of eerie calm, while the historical footage—of emaciated prisoners, mass graves, and piles of discarded belongings—is an unrelenting reminder of the atrocities committed.

This interplay of past and present emphasizes the continuity of memory, or lack thereof. By anchoring the horror in real, tangible locations, Resnais blurs the line between history and the present, making the events feel both immediate and universal.

Sound and Music

The score by Hanns Eisler is haunting and melancholic, amplifying the emotional weight of the visuals without overshadowing them. Michel Bouquet’s restrained narration is deliberate and somber, allowing the images to speak for themselves. This measured approach enhances the documentary’s impact, refusing to exploit the horror but also refusing to let viewers turn away from it.

Legacy

Night and Fog is widely regarded as one of the greatest documentaries ever made, not only for its artistic achievements but also for its enduring relevance. Its influence is evident in countless films and documentaries that grapple with genocide, memory, and human rights. Resnais’s film was among the first to confront the Holocaust on screen, setting a precedent for how cinema could engage with such monumental trauma.

Final Thoughts

Alain Resnais’s Night and Fog is not an easy watch, but it is an essential one. It transcends its role as a documentary to become a profound moral statement, reminding us of the capacity for both unimaginable cruelty and willful forgetfulness. By presenting its narrative with unflinching honesty and artistic precision, the film ensures that the horrors of the past are neither sanitized nor forgotten.

Rating: ★★★★★

Night and Fog is more than a film—it is a testament, a warning, and a call to remember.