#But I might be able to leave my supermarket job

[montydrawsstuff]

not to talk personal on main but I have an interview next week to work as a cheese monger, like an actual dream job for me I fucking love cheese

Wish me luck

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Event | Devil Maid’s Holiday | Episode 1

Sakuya: …

Sakuya: (I’m gonna do some etude practice once I get home today, and then I’ll read the rest of that play I borrowed from the library…)

Izumi: Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: …Ah, Director!

Izumi: What a coincidence. Are you on your way back from your part-time job?

Sakuya: Yeah! Are you out shopping?

Izumi: I am. I was just about to go to the supermarket to get some ingredients for dinner.

Sakuya: Then I’ll help you carry things!

Izumi: Are you sure? You’re just coming back from your part-time job, aren’t you tired, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: I feel totally fine! Let’s go.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: These ghost-shaped chocolates are pretty cute. And this is a… candy box?

Izumi: With Halloween coming up, there sure have been a lot of recipes using pumpkins going around lately. And there are lots of decorations and candies being sold too.

Sakuya: Right, Halloween…!

Izumi: We need to start getting ready for the Halloween party too.

Sakuya: Right. I can’t wait for it this year either.

Izumi: Anyway, we need to finish today’s shopping first. To start, I need to get some pumpkins and… Right, some milk too.

Sakuya: I’ll go grab the milk then.

Izumi: Thanks, sounds good.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Door opens*

Izumi: We’re back.

Sakuya: We’re home.

Yuki: Ah, you’re finally here. Welcome back. Director, can I talk to you for a second?

Izumi: Hm? What’s up?

Yuki: Well, I want to talk to you about something, but…

Sakuya: Ah, sorry, if there’s something you want to talk about, I can leave! I’ll get out of your way right away…

Yuki: Do whatever you want. It’s not like I care if you hear. And don’t you need to go put the things you bought in the fridge?

Sakuya: R-Right.

Sakuya: Okay, I’ll go and put the vegetables away then.

Izumi: Thanks, I’d really appreciate that.

Izumi: …Alright, what is it that you wanted to talk about then, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: Remember how I was allowed to sell my costumes on consignment at a specific clothing store one time?

Izumi: Of course. All the clothes were so cute that they sold out almost instantly. How could I forget that?

Yuki: I just got a personal request to create some costumes for someone who bought some of the clothes I made back then.

Izumi: You did!?

Yuki: That’s why I was waiting for you to get back. I wanted to talk to you about it just in case. Do you think I should try doing it?

Izumi: If someone went out of their way to request you specifically, and it doesn’t affect your schoolwork or your work within the company, I think you should do it, Yuki-kun.

Izumi: I’m sure it'll be good for you, and it might come full circle and be good for MANKAI Company too.

Izumi: And luckily, you’ve still got some time before Winter Troupe starts their performance. So I’m sure you’ll be able to pull it off.

Yuki: Thanks. …Alright, I’ll take on the challenge then.

Sakuya: That’s incredible, Yuki-kun!

Sakuya: Ah, sorry… I kinda ended up listening in on the entire thing. I was just so curious…

Yuki: It’s not like I really care. I literally told you that you could stay.

Sakuya: By the way, what kinda costumes is the person asking you to make?

Yuki: They said they wanted costumes for idols to wear for a big Halloween event.

Izumi: Idols? Are you talking about…?

Izumi: Isn’t there that idol group who formed a troupe to enter the Fleur Cup?

Izumi: I think I saw something on social media the other day about a couple of groups performing at a big Halloween event.

Yuki: Really?

Izumi: I only sort of glanced at it, so I’m not entirely sure, but.

Yuki: Hmm…

Yuki: Anyway, they said they wanted me to make just one outfit first, and then they’ll ask me to make more depending on how that one turns out, so I guess I’ll just get started on making one right away.

Izumi: Gotcha, good luck!

Sakuya: I’ll be supporting you too!

[ Next Part ⇢ ]

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | chapter 07

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 07 - Get the ball rolling

“Do you want to come up?” I ask him, afraid of what the answer might be. “I’m making dinner…” I show him the grocery bag I’m holding, not sure of what is the polite way to deal with this situation.

“Maybe another day…” He’s hesitant but I give a thankful sigh before he even finishes his sentence. Rúben notices and gives a soft chuckle.

We just sit there for an awkward amount of time. I can’t seem to make my arms and legs obey me, I’m thinking about getting up and leaving but all I manage to do is stare at him. He’s so close to me and it’s just us and he looks so beautiful. I try to look away but then I’m just staring at his lips.

“Isa…” He speaks like it’s a warning. “You need to make up your mind.” Rúben looks away for a moment, as if he’s gathering his thoughts. When he looks at me again, he looks sad. Vulnerable. “You are driving me crazy.” When he says that I immediately try to apologize but he stops me and continues to talk. “I want you, so, so much. And it’s so obvious you want me too. This should be enough. Our feelings for eachother should be enough.”

Fuck.

“Yes.” I find myself saying.

“Yes, what?” He 's even closer. Rúben puts a hand on my leg and I shake my head.

“I don’t know…” I blurted out. My mind feels foggy, I can’t seem to think straight.

Rúben leans back, putting his seatbelt back on.

“Let me know when you find out.” He’s looking at the road ahead. “I want a definitive answer. If you really don’t want me then please, please behave like it.”

I’m still staring at his lips, holding myself back, trying not to jump on his lap on the first opportunity.

“Okay,” I breathe out. Then I breathe in and breathe out again. “That makes sense.” I drilying put a hand on his shoulder, he looks back at me immediately. The wanting I see in his eyes must be the same he sees in mine. I wonder who else sees it. I almost laugh when I think that for a moment I thought I could hide it. “I just need time to think.” I tell him, because I’m still me and I’m still a coward.

“I’ve been thinking about you this whole time.” He says, because he’s so much braver than me.

So I go up to my apartment alone and I cook dinner alone. I continue to do all of my important things alone, while desperately searching for a woman inside of me who’s carefree and confident and has the ability to say things like ‘I think about you too, so much it hurts’. She’s somewhere in here, she must be, or else why would have these feelings in the first place?

It should be enough, he said.

But what if it isn't? What if I’m not?

It’s Friday and I'm at Stamford Bridge, feeling more grateful than ever to the fact I’m so obsessed with my job. In here I’m good, I’m enough. Nothing else matters.

That is until I have to interview Sterling. The guy has nothing to do with what I’m going through but as he stands in front of me I can't help wishing he was someone else. He scored two goals and all the time during the interview there’s a longing in my throat as I release that since I’m not covering City the next day, it’ll be at least another week until I can see Rúben in person again.

I could start camping outside of supermarkets.

Or I could call him.

“How are you feeling after playing so well against West Ham, and now being able to score twice…”

“It’s a good feeling…” He goes on and it’s so difficult to pay attention to his words.

On my day off, I’m in my brother’s kitchen, helping him with the dishes. I’m in a contemplative state, spend most of the day quiet, not speaking a lot. That was driving Carlos crazy, but I found comfort knowing he wouldn't question me on it. So we just stood side by side doing the dishes in complete silence. Sienna was in the nursery putting the baby to sleep and the house was so quiet we could hear her singing a soft lullaby.

“Remember the house we grew up in?” Carlos asks when we return to the living room, a kitchen towel still on his shoulder.

“Duh, obviously I remember the house we grew up in, Carlos.” I roll my eyes at him, still fully focused on my task at hand.

Carlos leaned in, looking worried.

“No, but remember the leaks? In the ceiling? And how dad spent year after year trying to fix it, but another leak always appeared. It used to drive him crazy.”

“Ahm, yeah, I remember.” I give a soft smile, there’s a warmth in my chest when he brings these memories back. “What 's your point, though?”

“When I became a father and bought a house for my family the most important thing for me was a solid, sturdy ceiling. So I wouldn’t have to deal with the same problems he did.”

His voice is soft and I nod, letting him know I’m understanding.

“That’s reasonable…”

“Yes, well, my point is… I’m watching you and you’re doing the opposite. You’re living your life just like dad lived his.” Carlos sighs.

“What? My ceiling is fine.” I go into defensive mode, realizing he’s accusing me of something, but still not sure what it is.

“I mean alone. Just because dad didn't remarry after mom passed away doesn't mean you need to lock yourself away. It’s okay to move on.” He points out. Carlos shakes his head, the look of concern never leaving his face.

“Okay, geez.” I raise both my hands, in surrender. “Alright.” I sigh, trying to process what he just said. “Hey, when did you become so smart?” I give him a nudge, trying to light up the mood. I hate being put on the spot, but deep down I’m thankful for the advice.

“I call it big brother's duties.”

join the taglist

@91vhs @kathb59 @kaddi1608

[elvenbeard]

5 Facts About Me

I was tagged by @gloryride thank you so much!! :D

I live and grew up in rural Germany

Always been here, in a tiny town (less than 1000 residents) and everyday really at this point I'm torn about wanting to leave or wanting to stay XD Job opportunities are scarce, the infrastructure sucks, it's an absolute pain in the ass to be this far out and away from bigger cities with so many more opportunities and services (be it something as silly as being able to order takeout or something as serious as finding queer-friendly medical professionals). On the other hand, it's very peaceful here. I'm surrounded by mountains, forests, lakes, I can see so many stars at night, it's amazing. Something in between would be cool, where I get nature but also a little more convenience (a supermarket in walking distance would be the dream, having to rely less on a car to get somewhere in general), but I haven't found that place yet.

I have a cat

Her name is Luna, and she is a feisty little menace and one of the sweetest and funniest cats I've ever known! She's been with me since late 2019, adopted from a shelter where she was notorious for getting into fights with other cats and staff apparently XD When I picked her up the first time she immediately snuggled up to me and gave me lots of kisses xD Could say it was love at first sight really. Also, I leash-trained her and we go on little outdoor adventures regularly (another reason why I'd like to remain living near a place where we can keep doing that).

Piercings!!

I have 7, 3 in my face, 4 in my ears altogether. And I want moooore, but I'm paralyzed by all the choices :D One I've wanted for a long time is a nose bridge one, and I think it would suit me, but it would also intensify my resting bitch face by 100% so, I'm a little on the fence still xD I might also be a little obsessed with the one my V has on his cheek, because that's one I'd never really seen on a real life person before. They do exist though, as dermal anchors/implants and I think I've also seen pics where they looked like done "regularly", kinda like eyebrow piercings, so more research and a consultation by a professional are required before I settle on anything XD

I studied Computer Science and Media

I never finished my course though, didn't get a degree, and I beat myself up for it for a long time. I quit in the first place because I was so burnt out and depressed and unhappy with everything to do with uni, it really almost killed my creative drive for good. Not only were we constantly told we'd only have a chance in jobs and fields after graduating that sounded absolutely dreadful to me, the faculty itself seemed to make it as hard as possible for us every step of the way to reach the end of the course (from "killer-exams" to get rid of the students only in it with "the wrong intentions", and a horribly disorganized administration that regularly just lost your grades and scores and tried to blame it on you). I'm someone who loves learning, and I loved learning what I did there. I have many amazing memories of people and projects we got to work on. But it's all overshadowed by the awful strucutures in place around it. I'd still like to study something some day, maybe to do with art or history or film or languages... but currently I'm kinda just happy existing and doing things at my own pace, without too much outside pressure to perform.

I work at a supermarket and am a registered freelance artist

I have a stable, permanent, part-time job at a supermarket (the wine and liquors department is all mine to manage basically, and I don't even drink XD but it's a lot of fun there really. Unless when something breaks...)

Money-wise, this job's just enough to not worry too much about life atm, but I wouldn't mind more xD It being part-time gives me a lot of free time I wouldn't have at most "regular" jobs, but rarely having a weekend sucks big time, especially when most of your friends work "regular" jobs.

I'm also registered as a freelance illustrator, and I'd love to get back into the swing of offering commissions again at some point, or building a small creative business somehow that would make the supermarket job obsolete in the end (just havent quite figured out what and how to pull that off, all attempts so far semi-successful XD). But yeh, that's like, the ultimate dream, really. Just making art and living off of it, and still having the time to follow my hobbies and go on adventures with my cat xD Don't need fame or riches, just want a comfortable, happy life bringing joy to others with what I do. And that joy-part, and feeling useful is what's lacking at my current dayjob. It's a job, it pays the bills, it can be fun and leaves a little bit of creativity here and there even... but it's not as fulfilling as I'd wish it to be.

I've seen a lot of people do this already, so I'm just gonna say: if you read this far and want to share some fun facts, consider yourself tagged to make your own 5 facts post! XD

[lindsaystravelblogs5]

Starting Phase 3 – in the Campervan

Day 36 Tuesday     

We got up a little earlier today and had a quick breakfast while we worked out a strategy for the next couple of days.   Heather had a mild confrontation with a guy who is probably the manager of the private club park who said the park that he thinks was the one we were trying to find was closed and we shouldn’t have entered where we did.  Bad luck!  Too late now.   He still wanted 23 pounds for our night, even though we used nothing apart from the space we parked on - no water, electricity or anything else.  He wanted cash and we didn’t have any so he said to go up to the village to get some.  We certainly went up to the village and just kept driving.   His fee was exorbitant seeing we used nothing.   We are now booked in at a lovely park for two nights - still expensive but it is a beautiful place, and everything is laid on.  

Heather purchased an eSIM as we were leaving the Faroes and she had trouble activating it - and numerous other things then didn’t work on her phone either.  The SIM was a Vodaphone one so we drove halfway across Scotland to Dumfries to a Vodafone shop.  It was busy and we had to wait about an hour but eventually spoke to a chap who changed numerous of Heather’s phone settings without finding a solution - he really wasn’t interested. He said nobody in the UK used eSIMs, and in the end we purchased a physical SIM and went to lunch in a pub quite a long walk from the shop while waiting the fifteen minutes he said it might take for the SIM to be activated.  An hour and a half later, it still hadn’t activated so we traipsed back to the shop in the rain and were attended to immediately by a different person.   She spent a few minutes undoing the things the earlier guy had done, and it now works.   I am able to tether my phone (but not my PC) as a hotspot from Heather’s, but it is still frustrating because it keeps dropping out.  But we will manage.  I am not sure if we can recover any of the cost of the eSIM, but that is a job for tomorrow, if at all.

We needed to stock up with food and a few other things from the supermarket, and we found one about ten kilometres out of Dumfries.  The two main supermarkets here are Tesco and Spar (also LIDL but there are fewer of them).  I think we found Tesco better last time we were here, but I saw a Spar soon after we set off for the one we had originally intended going to.  Alas, after backtracking to get to it on the other side of the road, it was little more than a convenience store, so we back-backtracked to find the original Tesco.  When we finally got there, it was just another convenience store at a servo - but a proper Tesco was just down the hill from the servo, and it was huge.  We did a big shop and loaded up the camper in the rain and headed to the park Heather had found for us.   It is great with excellent facilities and we ate a semi-proper dinner and crawled into bed exhausted again.   Having fun really is hard work sometimes.

Day 37.   Wednesday, 9 October

Today was a layday - sort of, but not really.   We stayed in the caravan park but had a really delightful day.   We did some washing and got the camper sorted out and organised much more to our liking, making quite a bit more room by rationalising things and making better use of the cupboards.   We also read some of the manuals for the oven and water heater, etc., and got them working - very unintuitive but at least they are now available and usable.

The highlight of the day was a walk in the paddock next door.   I was chasing birds late in the morning and found a gate at the back of the park for a ‘dog walking path’.   It was a mown figure-eight track around a big paddock and ran along a beautiful river: Cluden Waters, that very soon joined the River Nith.  The people at this park have gone to extraordinary lengths to make the whole area enjoyable.   I walked the circuit without seeing any birds but it was quite lovely, so after lunch, Heather joined me and we walked it together again - probably not much more than half a kilometre but quite fascinating.  I saw a few ducks on the river that I still haven’t identified, and I couldn’t identify them in the Faroes either, but I will keep trying.  (I did find them later.)  But what really fascinated us was the plants and flowers beside the mown strip twenty or so metres from the path.  There were quite a lot of flowers to photograph and try to identify, and we had a great couple of hours exploring the area.  It started out sunny with just an occasional drop of rain, but became threatening as time passed, although we never got any real rain at all.  It seemed such a simple thing to do, just a short walk, but it gave us both immense pleasure.   We should take the time to do things like that more often.  

After we got back from our walk, we watched the farmer in the next field working his land.   He had a huge bin on wheels behind his tractor and the bin was filled with wet/sloppy cow manure.  As he drove along, this was funnelled to where a powerful blower distributed it in a ginormous blizzard up to thirty metres across the field.  Literally, when the shit hits the fan……..   When the bin was empty, he just refilled it and kept going.   Some of it landed over his fence into the caravan park and we had to close up the camper to avoid the worst of the stench.  It must be common practice here because I saw at least three identical tractors and trailers as we drove along the following day. 

We are quite snug in the camper and now that we have ourselves better organised, we are looking forward to some more leisurely days with nothing of importance on our agenda but to enjoy the travel.  One thing was that we were a little cold on our first night, so we bought a small blanket at the supermarket, and it is so soft and cuddly that we had trouble getting up in the morning.  Last time we were in the UK, we had to buy a small rug too, so we might have to donate one of them when we get home again. 

[parasaparaluman]

Happiest Place on Earth

I almost forgot that it's already November and just a few days away, it's already Christmas.

Just this late October to early November, I was able to come back to Hong Kong with my fiancée. I'm really excited for our trip since my fiancée likes anything Disney. I'm also excited on how we'll both fair since the vibe of HK is vastly different from Singapore.

A few points:

1. A lot of locals, even in tourist-populated areas, cannot understand English. It can be very difficult then to communicate when ordering food or when asking for directions.

2. You will really appreciate how nice Filipinos are. Most HK locals are not accommodating. A few instances are when I tried to ask a supermarket employee if I'm understanding their B1T1 promo correctly in which he said something like "it's not my job". He seems to only care about stacking chocolates in shelves and not anything else. Another is when we tried to ask a saleslady where a particular store in the mall is located in which she replied that she did not know - which can be quite unbelievable since she works on that mall. She must have an idea on what floor it is located at the very least.

3. Tall building apartments are everywhere. This is in comparison to the area we've stayed in SG where buildings vary from tall to something like our 3-floor hotel.

I also plan to share some tips for others but I might leave that in FB instead.

Overall, we enjoyed our trip. Disneyland is ever so magical with their rides, fireworks, shows, souvenirs , and parades. Even for a 2-day trip, it still doesn't seem enough. We also did a lot of pasabuys where we thankfully got into a 5-digit profit as anything less wouldn't be enough for the long walks that we did in search of our customers' items.

Along with SG, we definitely will go back to HK in the next few years!

[niilue]

ෆ    ִ      ׁ  sub chifuyu - im your puppy

cw; dom reader, fem reader, pegging, male penetration, rimjob, dirty talk, vocal sub, anal fingering. chifuyu pov

"chifuyu i will go to the supermarket as we need some food, see you later love."

"mm yeah i'll wait for you right here, go carefully." you say without being able to take your eyes off the manga. for the first time you wanted to be fucked and ruined by your girl. just by looking at the manga drawings you felt a warmth run through your whole body. you whimpered, letting out a gasp. you didn't know where that thought had come from, you weren't like that and at least you never thought you'd ever get turned on by the thought of your girl dominating you.

you were a little embarrassed but with an adrenaline rush in your body, you didn't remember having those kinds of thoughts but you really wanted to experience what it felt like to have your girlfriend take you by the hips, spread your buttocks, lubricate your entrance and penetrate you so hard that you could cum with nothing else.

"agh." a moan escaped your lips at such dirty thoughts.

you remembered that (name), had a dildo that she used and even when they had sex you used it on her. you were attacked by the thought of wanting to know what it felt like to have one of those toys attack your little entrance.

you literally ran, leaving the manga on the floor, and went into the room they shared and searched through all the drawers until you found a purple object you had already seen of considerable size. you swallowed saliva feeling threatened by the size, but the curiosity of whether it would really give you as much pleasure as the manga's protagonist felt was stronger.

"well, it can't be that complicated." you said and sat down on the bed, pulled down your pants and boxers and spread your legs as wide as you could right in front of the mirror that adorned the wall and perfectly visualized everything that was happening on the bed. you lubricated your fingers with your saliva and began to feel your anus trying to stimulate it. you touched it and while you did it you felt how your penis was receiving prickles of pleasure, you were afraid to introduce your finger but you decided to spit even more your long fingers and slowly you felt by the lubrication of this as your anus was sucking it.

"it's so uncomfortable, ah, but partly it feels good." you admitted watching yourself in the mirror as your finger began to be swallowed by your small and wrinkled entrance. there was only one finger and you felt that more than pleasurable it was uncomfortable, so you tried to add another second finger.

"no, no, ahg, it hurts, i don't know how i'm going to put this thing up my ass if two fingers hurt so much, i wanted to feel pleasure." you whimpered and pulled out your second finger leaving only one, trying to open your entrance more but it was impossible and you were tired of salivating your fingers.

you were so concentrated in wanting to open your entrance that you had not noticed that a few seconds ago your girlfriend had arrived from shopping and when she noticed that you were not in the living room she thought you might be asleep in the bedroom or watching television, so she went to the bedroom when she heard your moans and groans, she thought something had happened to you when she came closer to the bedroom and saw that the door was open she could see the spectacle you were putting on.

open in front of the mirror trying to fuck that little entrance was the most exquisite thing your eyes could see. your cute boyfriend even with that big white shirt, was trying to take her little anus with your big purple dildo, or at least that's what he was trying to do, because his thin fingers were not doing a good job of opening that beautiful butthole.

" damn chifuyu." you said scaring this one making her turn quickly where you were, face and ears red, lips shiny with saliva and eyes watering. you thought she was going to make up an excuse that it wasn't what she thought or run out of the room in shame but what happened next made even your pussy throb hard.

chifuyu got up from the bed with no intention of running away and without any shame that his penis started to get hard and stood out under the big t-shirt he was wearing. "name, name, name." you said in moans and moved closer to her and knelt in front of her taking one of her legs.

"fuck me with that big dildo." you said without any qualms, just feeling your anus throbbing for wanting something to possess it. you didn't care about anything, you were sure your girlfriend wouldn't mind or be disgusted by you, she was so good with you that you were sure she would fuck you just the way you wanted. you wanted so much to feel that, to be dominated and scream to her between choked moans that you were her cute little whore.

you were frozen for a second by such a persistent statement, those desperate eyes, that cute mouth that made you want to use him so much and his penis rubbing part of your legs made you so excited. seeing chifuyu so submissive, willing to be used and fucked as much as he wanted, turned you on.

you knelt down in front of him and took him by his cheeks and kissed him so softly and yet so wetly. "tell me that again, chifuyu, and i'll do anything you want with that beautiful ass of yours."

"(name), mmhp, fuck me, make me scream, I want to be your slutty puppy." you said between moans and sighs unable to control yourself.

"put your torso and head on the bed, and let me take care of that needy little ass baby." you said with a grin.

chifuyu obeyed without complaint.

"no baby, i want it to be on this side of the bed, so you can see your reflection in the mirror. how much you are going to scream and enjoy how i fuck your ass. i want you to look at your bitch face when you are screaming my name and how much you love me using you as my bitch."

gasped the black-haired guy in response and did as you asked looking at his flushed face in the mirror. with no more time to waste he watched as you went down and knelt on the bed to spit your fingers and go around fingering your anus.

you felt your girl's wet fingers begin to slowly open your tight anus and as they entered without further ado. "it hurts, ahg, it bothers." you moaned.

"shh, relax baby, you'll soon get used to it." she said and inserted a second finger where you moaned more than before and hid your face in one of the pillows silencing the squeals. it still felt annoying but your own anus was starting to lubricate naturally from the intrusion, and you loved it.

so you were getting used to having two fingers in your anus, so you wanted more, and you started to move your ass to the rhythm of how your girlfriend moved her fingers, front, back, front and back. as if she was penetrating you, the friction you felt inside was making you dizzy. your penis was starting to get so hard it was hurting so much.

"you are so needy chifu. how about i use something else." you said and pulled your fingers out of his entrance.

"noooo, why the-"

before you could finish moaning, you felt something wet run all over your entrance, like ice cream being licked. your sphincter muscle definitely contracted too much.

"haa, haaaah, aahh." you gasped for air as you let out moan after moan. it felt so fucking good, like your girlfriend was literally eating your ass. you wanted to feel that tongue again. it felt so dirty but so good.

"you're such a naughty boy, chifuyu." you said in a sing-song voice to once again plunge your tongue into the pink entrance of your cute little doggy.

over and over again, you ran your tongue and chifuyo kept squirming and screaming like a slut. each lick to his anus and he was drowning in his pleas for you to keep fucking him with your tongue. "yes, yes, mhm, ah, fuck (name), do this every time, agh."

you could already see his anus well dilated ready to take that big dildo.

you looked in a box you had hidden a strap-on, you had it a long time ago, you bought it because someday you wanted to use it with someone. you thought chifuyu was not the submissive type, but you still hoped one day to convince him. there was no need, he just fell for it as you had always hoped.

" did you have that stored up for so long (name), did you know that someday you would use it on me?" he asked confused.

you put on the strap on, it was also purple and almost the same size as your dildo, quite big, not big enough to kill your cute boyfriend, obviously.

you positioned yourself next to your boyfriend and grabbed his face to turn around and make him face you. "suck it." you demanded.

with somewhat shaky hands, he took the dildo and started sucking it just like you said. at first slowly, since it was his first time doing this. he would take a breath and gasp before putting it back in his mouth. after a few minutes he got used to it and just as he moved his hands around he would suck the plastic dildo. he would push it in and out, back in again, each time deeper and deeper. "At one point you were pulled hard because chifuyu had become a maniac and wanted to eat your purple dildo.

you let him stop sucking, the dildo was completely wet with his saliva. the black-haired guy was a fucking mess, with his hands wet in his own lubricant, the corner of his lips open while drops of saliva dripped down from it and a tearful look full of pleasure.

" fuck me, fuck me, aaaagh, please, fuck me.

he said lost in lust, lifting her ass up and grabbing her butt and spreading it open for you. such a sinful image, you were so wet.

you gave him a spank that made him moan louder, and removed his hands from his ass. "i’m going to fuck you as much as you want slut."

without giving him time to answer you started to insert the dildo, slowly as it was his first time.

he gave strong blows to the bed, while he was writhing in pain and pleasure. a little more and kept sucking her anus very well the dildo. "fuck how you eat my cock, chifuyu, like a horny bitch."

" more, more, more, fuck it more."

he yelled moving her ass closer to the plastic penis, it was almost full inside she was taking it so well.

chifuyu was no longer connecting at all, he was so lost in pleasure, this was precisely what he wanted to feel. his penis was dripping, and his anus was being fucked so richly by his girlfriend's big penis. he felt each of the thrusts deep inside him. exquisite and so wonderful. hearing his screams plus the wet thrusts were taking their toll. his girlfriend was panting heavily and shamelessly thrusting so hard, just the way he wanted it.

his reflection was something else, he didn't know himself, he rolled his eyes all the way back, completely blank. while his body moved back and forth violently. his mouth had a sadistic smile full of so much pleasure, he couldn't even articulate words. he just moaned and moaned and moaned and moaned and saliva came out of his lips. at one point he turned to look at his girlfriend with that sinful face of his

"i, i..., i'm your puppy."

seeing your boyfriend so lustful and lost you felt like you could cum with such an obscene image. he was enjoying it so much. every thrust he moaned like crazy, when you pulled out your plastic penis he cried and stuck more to your crotch and took the purple penis and put it in him and started to fuck himself. "what a dirty puppy i have." you whispered to him as you bit his tongue.

"mhn, aahhhhhhh, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck." by now his squeals were so loud that the neighbors were well aware of the situation.

you could see that cifuyu couldn't hold on any longer, he would cum like never before. so to make him feel your plastic penis deeper, you grabbed his neck and lay down on his back while you continued to penetrate him. "come on puppy, let it all out, cum, cum, cum."

you kept fucking him, chifuyu took the hand you had on his neck to squeeze him tighter and started to fuck him harder. you both moved in rhythm and the penis kept fucking the black hairy guy's entrance.

"fuck i'm coming, i'm coming, aaahh."

"what are you chifuyu, scream it."

"I'M YOUR PUPPY, ALWAYS, FUCK ME HARDER."

so giving the last hard thrust, chifuyu burst into such a pornographic scream, he was cumming like never before, and he kept fucking himself while jets of cum stained the sheets. it was all so fucking obscene.

"i love you, i love you, you whispered still feeling the pleasure ravage your body, your girlfriend had fucked you so hard, so good. just like you wanted, you knew you were going to love it. now you just wanted your pretty girlfriend to fuck you every minute, because you were her dirty little puppy and you wanted to be fucked like she wanted.

[atravisphilepsclicker]

Can I get comfort from sal? So trans male reader keeps his binder on to long to the point of bruises and pain? You can chose headcanons or a one shot it’s up to you •3•

Summary: Sal comes home from his supermarket job to see you were in your shared bedroom in your shared apartment and asks how long you kept your binder on after you answer him he tries to help you with the pain.

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

Word Count:1654

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: trans male

Warning: mentions of dysphoria, bruising, back pain and small injury

Modern AU

You both are in high school and Sal has a part-time job at the town Walmart.

Y/N = your name

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

3rd Person POV

Sal stood in front of the apartment door with the card key in his left hand and was texting the group gc ( with him, todd, larry, ashily, maple and chug ). He turned off his phone and slid the key into the card lock and a small light turned red to green showing that it was unlocked.

Walking into the apartment Sal was met with silence. It didn’t worry him but he wondered where you were when he came home from work you usually were sitting on the couch doing something to pass the time as you waited for him but you weren’t there to give him his usual greeting of “ Hey, Sal, “ or “ Hey, blue! “

Sal then locked the door, took off his shoes, and put them on the boot rack on the door’s left side. Sal stood upright and walked into the living room and that’s when he heard it, “ Oh you’re home, Welcome back! “ Sal heard you greet him from the bedroom. The bedroom door was half open leaving him being able to see you laying on the bed in the room. Sal walked over to the door and opened it and leaned on the door frame.

He looked at you, you were so handsome laying there your legs laying straight on the bed as you scrolled on your phone. You had a tired look on your face and you bet your ass your amazing boyfriend Sal noticed and frowned, furrowing his brow. “ So how was your day today? You look tired. “ Sal asked with a slightly worried tone. You look at him with a small smile and turn off your phone, putting it on the nightstand beside your side of the bed.

“ It was fine I haven’t had a lot of sleep since I was trying to finish the dam book assignment T/N gave us. I did ask todd to help me after I finished pulling out my hair a little. So it’s done now and I won’t have to return to hell for a few days till our next assignment. But other than that I’ve had a fine day. “ You told the blue-haired male that was now on sitting on the bed beside you legs crossed with one hand holding his face listening to you.

You looked at him and asked, “ So how was your day at work? I guess the boss gave you overtime at the store again? “ You asked since he came home 2 hours later than his work schedule had said. “ Yeah, sorry! I tried to get off earlier but she just gave me so many things to do! “ He said annoyed. You leaned on one side wincing at the bit of pain moving gave you and Sal noticed. Sal was not a genius but when he saw you do that it didn’t take long for him to remember the last time a few months ago you didn’t take off your binder for longer than it intended. “ Hey, love how long have you had your binder on? “ He asked with tones of worry in his voice. You saw his eyes through the mask, they looked worried for you, the love of his life.

You sigh and close your eyes not wanting to see his reaction, “ 12 hours. “ You say quietly, almost in a mumble. “ Take it off. “ Sal told you with a stern pained voice. You were hesitant not wanting to have terrible dysphoria again, I mean that the entire reason you have had that on for so long and you both knew it. It took a little time to think but you finally surrendered. “ Fine…” You said with an upset sigh. You sat up quickly sending a jolt of pain down your spine making you lay back down and groan in pain. Sal quickly moved over to you and held your arm with one hand. “ Do you need me to help get up? It must be really painful to move. “ Sal asked rubbing circles on your arm. You make a pained smile, “ That would be really nice of you blue, thank you. “

Sal moved, straightening his back. “ Okay, first let’s sit you up just tell me when you’re ready to move and ill put my hand behind your back and push you up slowly. “ Sal told you. You waited for a minute for the pain to die down a little and told him you were ready. Sal slid his hand under the lower side of your back knowing your upper back must be in so much pain right at the moment.“ K, one...two...three! “ Sal started to move you up slowly and steadily.

Once you sat up Sal helped you lean your back on the backboard of your bed. After that Sal got off the bed and stood beside you. “ You alright? “ He asked squatting down to lead his head in your lap. “ Yeah, I’m fine just in a little bit of pain but no worries! “ You answer as you twirl a few of Sal’s soft blue locks in your fingers. “ Well...if you’re sure you’ll be fine then do you think we could try to stand you up and get that binder off of you? “ He asked in a caring tone. “ Yeah, we could try but I think I might fall over if I do. “ You cucked. SaL then stood up and held both of your arms. “ You know you don’t need to hold me like this right? “ You say as you steadily move up wincing at the pain your binder gave you to move. “ I know I just want to make sure you’re safe and won’t get hurt more than you already are. “ He started concentrating on getting you to stand up. Once you finally stood up he started getting your shirt off as you looked away embarrassed and disgusted. “ Why are you okay seeing my disgusting body? “ You aked as Sal threw your shirt on the bad behind you both. He looked bad at you and put his hand on your face and started rubbing small shapes with his thumb, “ Because I love you, and your handsome body, love. You are anything but disgusting! You're my handsome attractive boyfriend and that's what you'll always be to me, even if you hate how you look ill help you show that you're beautiful! And hey, we can always start saving up for surgery to get them removed if you really want. I’ll do anything to make you happy and I want you to know that but for now, we just need to get that binder off of you. “ He told you. You started to tear up as he started taking it off of you and finally broke down as he also put that down with the discarded shirt. “ Thank you. I love you! “ You cried on her shoulder.

“ Shhhh it’s okay….how about I give you a nice massage to relieve some of the pain? “ Sal asked calming you down slightly. You sniffed a bit and then looked at him with tear stains down your face. “ Yeah, that would be nice….” You said as you lay down in the middle of the bed. Sal sat down beside you and rolled up his sleeves. He first put his hands on your shoulders, thankfully they were warm and he started messaging the notes out. It felt good and you gave a big sigh. He then moved to where your bruises and cuts are from the binder. His hands became softer on your skin and he was careful to relieve some of the pain not give you some more. You felt a wave of relief when the pain died down you didn't even notice when Sal stopped till he said something to you. “ I'm going to get some ointment to put on the bruises! “ He told you walking out of your bedroom.

You stare at the wall in front of you as you listen to his movement, him opening the bathroom door then him opening the cupboard and moving some things around till he found the ointment. You looked over at the door as Sal walked in medicine in hand. He sat back down beside you were still laying on your stomach. “ This is going to be cold on your skin. “ He said opening the medicine and putting some on his finger. He put some on a large bruise and yeah, he was right, it's fucking cold. You wince at the cold feeling on your skin but you soon get used to the feeling as Sal rubbed it in more.

Soon enough he was done and you were tired mentally and physically. You look at your wonderful boyfriend beside you scrolling on his phone. “ You think we can cuddle? “ You ask looking at him with i tired and pained face. “ He turned off his phone and looked at you with beautiful and caring eyes. “ Sure, love! Let me just take off my mask. “ He told you unclipping the clips under his hair. You didn't even really notice he still had it on but was happy he's still comfortable taking it off around you. After setting his mask down on the nightstand he layed his back on the backboard and moved his arms out waiting for you to come in his arms. You crawled over to Sal and went into his comforting arms. You both stayed there in the quiet only sounds of small movement and breathing in air. Soon enough your eyes started getting droopy and you started letting out cute yawns. You hear Sal chuckle and you say a quick shut up before your eyes closed for good and you fell fast asleep going into an amazing and magical dream.

Now you both were together and that wouldn't change ever even if either of you struggles with things or life throws things at you you'll always be there for each other, from now and forever.

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

Pictures

Sal Fisher- https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/496873771387590071/

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

Sorry if this was terrible! I honestly loved writing this but was having some trouble getting my ideas down on the computer so it might seem quite bad, but hopefully, this helps even a little and have a great day/afternoon/night and remember to stay hydrated!

[k-odyssey]

Thoughts on tvn's Happiness (ep 9 & 10)

There's something very biblical about pouring your (pure) blood so that the sinners infected will show themselves? Or did the christian symbols get to me? It's a shame the sacrificial lamb got scratched and everything is a mess.

10 episodes and I still get surprised and scared when people turn. It's hard to consistently keep creating tension but they do it. It's also hard to make a show that requires tension that I won't find unwatchable, but they're also doing it.

Often the soundtrack really helps building up that tension, but here while he was walking around the room with his bloody hand extended, the silence was very effective. You could taste anticipation in the air.

I've said it already, but I love the foreshadowing in Happiness. There's some solid writing in there, and not just spur-of-the-moment plot twists. Like, did I find it very strange that the pastor was repelling zombies at the time? Yup. Did I consider the fact that he might be infected? Yes, briefly. Did I put that aside and kinda forget it because the writer redirected my attention elsewhere? 100%.

The fact that this one moment made the cop friend find god but had a scientific explanation??? I love that so much. I'd love more of that on tv pls.

There were also hints about the supermarket girl and I had not at all made the connection.

I looked up the writer and for once, it's a man. He did write WATCHER which I started and did not finish, because it had a definite lack of women and no romance. I don't know what he's been doing since 2019—well I kinda do, he's been living through a pandemic like the rest of us—but I like the direction in which he's taking his work.

The science feels a little shaky, but it's vague and in the background enough that I don't care too much. They don't do the thing where they keep shoving their "high tech" equipment in your face while speaking nonsense about DNA or whatever.

To get back to the important stuff: I wish Yi Hyun would tell the truth!!! He was bound to get infected, what with always jumping in to save the day. But even if it makes sense, I hate it. I also hate it because, and I hadn't noticed it at first but only after I finished episode 10 and thought about it, he's been more distant from Sae Bom since he got scratched. And I thrive on their intimacy so this hurts.

They're a team, and he promised he would say if it happened!! I know that it's his well-documented protective instincts acting out and he's doing this out of love but ARGH! You can't just sacrifice yourself without discussing it. Well, if you discuss it, it's true that you won't be able to sacrifice yourself cause she won't let you.

It's killing me that she noticed all the signs, but he knows her well enough to fool her.

I said last week that Han Tae Seok and Yi Hyun are similar and it's confirmed this week. HTS knew immediately that Hyun was infected, cause he probably would've done the exact same thing if it were him. I still think Hyun wouldn't go as far as manipulating others the way HTS does though.

I haven't said anything about Sae Bom yet, but it's not because I don't love her. She keeps being an awesome character, and I do particularly enjoy watching her when she's angry. If they didn't show her tender side, I'd feel differently I think. But she's both warm AND scary. She's magnetic, I see why Hyun made her his god.

Not sure what to say about the residents. I'm not feeling as indulgent as Hyun, thinking about them. It's amazing how quickly the apartment complex has become a lawless place. Also the ratio of murderers is way too high, even though the ratio of police officers in presence is also very high. We have a serial killer in the building??? What are the chances???

The actor playing creepy/evil upstairs neighbour is doing such a good job, my god I hate his guts. Shout out to the guy playing the lawyer as well, would you believe I keep yelling at his wife through the screen to strangle leave him?

Actually, they're all doing a good job. I also have unmentionable thoughts about the representative lady, although she looked genuinely devastated by her husband's death and for a moment there, I believed she was human. Maybe they're all too human.

The ending this week though?? You're gonna stand outside while someone is being killed so you can take their assets?? While a child is in there with a murderer?? This is reminiscent of the worst kinds of wartime stories.

PS: I think it's genius to have a countdown followed by a counter (?). Really drives the point home that there's nothing to look forward to now, we're just marking the passing of time and hoping there's an end to this.

[ladyeliot]

Fragile [1/3]

Part Two

Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.

Word count: 2463

A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

You are waiting for a plane, a plane that will take you far away. You know where you want to go, where you need to go, but you really have no idea where that plane will take you. But it doesn't really matter now, nothing matters because you've lost everything, you have nothing left. Whatever fate throws at you you are willing to accept it, after all you leave nothing behind. That's what you told yourself when in 2009, at the age of thirteen, you boarded that plane that took you out of Iran, when your nuclear engineer father was brutally murdered by someone you could never put a name or a face to. It was not until much later that you discovered the truth of that moment that marked your life forever.

Call it fate, call it chance, but that plane paved your future path. Your destination was the United States, specifically the city of Washington. At the age of 13, when you were a minor, you were detained by the government, assigned to a foster family, preparing you for your future, which already seemed to be written. At 18, the CIA had your position waiting for you, you had been educated and trained for the job, you never had a different opportunity in front of you, but you didn't really want it either.

Your first years within the Central Intelligence Agency you had to learn and live with all the events that that group, called the Avengers, dropped on the nation and the whole world. However, you were not a part of it until it was all over, for like the vast majority of humanity your body vanished from the face of the earth and did not return until years later. That's when it all began. When your superior assigned you a case, his case, to be the shadow of James Buchanaham Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, who was going to rejoin society after being pardoned by the government. You didn't know what that meant, what that entailed.

Your move to New York was sudden, the neighbourhood the man had selected to live in was in Sunset Park, a New York borough of Brooklyn, one of the best known ethnic Chinese enclaves. It was really nice, but the building was far less comfortable than the neighbourhood. When you arrived with barely any hot water, you figured that assuming the building looked like it might collapse at the drop of a hat, the plumbing would be no less so. But at least your CIA team had been able to provide you with comfortable furniture and the necessary equipment to do your job.

You had a plan, the plan, you had been analysing Bucky Barnes, his exits from the building, the places he frequented, which were pretty scarce apart from the therapy sessions and the restaurant across the street, and his social relations, which were even scarcer, however he had forged a small friendship with a neighbour in the same building, Yori Nakajima originally from Japan. You didn't have to work out your first meeting, any self-respecting neighbour would help a newcomer to the building during the move.

A dozen cardboard boxes were scattered around the hall of the building, you looked at them with a thoughtful gesture while biting your nails waiting for your dear neighbour to arrive from the laundry next door. You had kept track of the time, and just as you predicted, he came in through the front door with a basket of clean clothes. You continued to look at the boxes, took a breath and exaggerated your gesture of concern, just as he focused his gaze on you.

"Do you need help?" he asked, putting down the laundry basket and approaching you.

You turned your face, still biting your nails, but pretended to be surprised to find him there.

"Oh, don't worry, I only just realised that this building is so green it barely has a lift," you said with a smile, causing Bucky to grin.

"Yes, we like to do our bit for the environment," he said, putting his hand behind his head and then offering it to you in greeting. "Bucky."

"Susan," you smiled and shook his hand, then returned your gaze to the stacked boxes. Evidently that wasn't your real name, it was the name of the person you had invented yourself.

"Come on, let me help you," abandoning his laundry basket he approached your belongings and with barely a reproach he picked up two stacked boxes.

"Oh, God, don't you think you should...?" you began worriedly as you looked at the weight he had taken into his arms.

"Don't worry," he added. "Do you think you could take my clothes?"

That was how it all began. Maybe it could have started some other way, perhaps a chance encounter at the laundromat next door, or when you came out of your government-assigned therapy, or maybe a night at the Japanese restaurant, but no, it was that way. You had no idea how things were going to develop, you had no idea why you were assigned to the case, you were so innocent that you thought it was because of your positive attitude, your willingness to do something relevant, but there was too much hidden behind it that you had hardly a clue. You and that young man were connected, a blood-soaked red thread linked you, but it wasn't until some time later that you discovered it.

Before you knew it, the boxes had gone from being stacked in the hall of the building to being in your small living room. You barely had to feign the surprise you felt as the young man had climbed all four floors in record time.

"OK, who are you? You don't work for a moving company do you?" you laughed and headed towards the small kitchen that was connected to the living room. "If so leave me your card because you'll be the one I call."

"No, not really," he put his hand behind his neck and looked away, he seemed nervous as you tried to start a conversation with him.

"A beer? It's the least I can do," you said, opening the fridge. "Well, and it's the only thing I have apparently."

"Better another time," he commented looking at the basket of clean clothes you had left in the middle of your living room and approaching it to pick it up.

It was at that moment that you noticed the black leather gloves covering his hands, you guessed the fact, surely they were to cover his left hand which complemented his vibranium arm.

"Oh, of course," you closed the fridge the same way you had opened it and leaned against the kitchen island to watch him in the middle of the room with the laundry basket offering you an awkward smile. "Then it only remains for me to thank you again."

"It's been a pleasure," he said without moving from the spot, which made you bite your lip smiling at his awkwardness. "Uh... welcome."

"Thank you," you added, watching him clumsily walk out the door and close it behind him.

The image of Bucky Barnes you had formed in your mind collapsed as soon as you met him. Everything you had seen, read, heard about the man had nothing to do with what you found that morning. Who was this person and what had he done with the Winter Soldier? As soon as you closed the door you opened the box marked 'FRAGILE' and extracted all the archival material that the CIA had compiled for you, and opening your laptop you began to generate your first report on Bucky Barnes, totally contrary to what you had expected to do.

The following days you took it upon yourself to generate spontaneous encounters in the most common places the two of you might frequent. The laundromat or the supermarket were the best selected, you discovered that his lifestyle could be that of any ordinary New Yorker, there was nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary. You had explained to him the story you had created for Susan, a young immigrant girl who had been adopted at the age of 5 by an American family and had left her small town in the state of Ohio to come to New York looking to live the New York dream. Bucky didn't really talk much, but he was a really good listener. He tended to be quite expressive with his face and as we met, it wasn't so often that he looked away from you, only when you stared at him, which was quite common as his blue eyes tended to evade you too much.

Two months later you received the desired psychological analysis that the therapist had been working on during her sessions with Bucky. Throughout your years of life you had been trained not to engage in any kind of emotional relationship with the cases you were assigned at the CIA, you didn't realise it at first, but it was too big for you. When you opened the envelope, sat down on the couch and began to read each of the reports you felt it, a slight sigh propitiated what was happening, you had felt compassion for him. But who couldn't feel compassion reading that? Session after session, talking about the numerous nightmares that kept him awake, endless lists of his victims he had killed, the tortures HYDRA put him through... it all made your insides churn.

You dropped the papers on the table and thoughtfully paced around the room biting your nails. You had been longing for a case like this for a long time, you had practically begged for it, and now that you were inside it you didn't know if you would be able to face it with a cool head. It was a difficult two weeks, where every conversation with Bucky provoked associations with what you read in the therapist's reports and that made you think too much about what you were doing.

But something happened, one Saturday like any other, your doorbell rang while you were preparing a report to send to your superior, you closed everything running and approached the entrance. As you opened the door the figure of Bucky stood in front of you, while behind him loomed the small body of Yori Nakajima.

"Hey..."

"Come on we don't have all day!" exclaimed Yori tapping Bucky's back with his particular cane.

"I'm coming..." chided Bucky turning his face towards his friend and neighbour.

"Come on!" exclaimed Yori again.

The situation was quite peculiar even for you, who were used to encountering all sorts of situations in your work. Your eyebrows were arched as you leaned against the doorframe waiting for what Bucky was supposed to say. Your two neighbours made a comical but endearing pair. Bucky seemed hesitant to speak, being rather nervous as he fiddled with his gloves, so Yori tapped him again with the cane to push him aside.

"What he wants to tell you is to go on a date with him," Yori said bluntly, to which Bucky exasperatedly sighed and put his hand to his face.

"A date?" you asked arching your eyebrows even more and blinking rapidly.

"Well, it's not exactly that..." began Bucky but again he received another blow from Yori's cane, "Hey! Stop it," he refocused his blue eyes on yours. "I'm sorry..."

"For what, needing help asking me out on a date?" you asked smiling slightly, causing him to do so as well. "Had you come up with any concrete plans or did Yori have to find it for you?"

Your question caused Yori to laugh and leave the place alluding that his work had already been done. You continued to watch Bucky with your arms crossed as you slumped against the door frame. The whole situation was getting too out of hand without you even realising it. You lied to yourself that it could be good for your mission, but none of it was good. At that moment you were just a young girl getting carried away, being asked out on a date by a guy you found really attractive.

"Maybe... tomorrow at eight o'clock? If not..." she asked, putting her hand behind her neck, causing her white t-shirt to ride up and reveal part of her naked lower body.

"Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?" you asked showing complete confidence in your voice.

"Or... sure, tonight," she rectified, nodding.

"All right," you said, smiling, and closed the door, leaving Bucky standing there.

In the back of your mind you were trying to convince yourself that this would be helpful to the investigation, that what the CIA really wanted was for you to maintain contact with him, that he was under your control, that he wouldn't do anything that the government would regret offering a pardon for, and apparently he was. What you didn't know is that it was you who was falling under his control.

Your love life is not what you could call it, you were not someone of long realizations, someone who opened her heart easily, you had never really opened it to anyone, apparently at the age of 13 your heart was broken and of that loving and shy girl there was hardly anything left. Relationships, yes, you had had them, but they were based only on physical contact, no feelings, no emotions, only physical contact. You were stubborn, obstinate and sometimes a little presumptuous, a trump card you played with Bucky, but the innocence was still inside you even if you could hardly notice it.

But believe it or not, those months you were spending in that practically ruined building in the middle of that Brooklyn neighbourhood were changing the course of your destiny, they were connecting you with the loving girl you had once been. Something inside you prevented you from writing reports providing the information the CIA was asking for, it seemed really absurd, but for the last two weeks you had offered details of the conversations you had with Bucky, you were just giving ordinary data, useless to the government, who expected you to relay everything the former Winter Soldier said or did. You would never have thought that anything, or anyone, would have limited your ability to tackle an investigation, but there it was, Bucky had done it in just a few months. You felt so empty, it was easy to connect with someone as empty as you, him.

To be continue...

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[kurowrites]

"you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks im married with a baby" for wangxian :3

I doubt this was the thing you expected, but ... [smashes keyboard]

---

It had been a coincidence, really, nothing that he’d planned. He’d just been on his way out of the door to get his groceries done when he came across one of his neighbours in the entrance hall; the really handsome one with the cute little toddler that always smiled at him. The one where the mother of the child had probably left the picture, because he’d never actually seen her.

Quietly, he wondered what woman would leave a man that was so obviously caring well for his child, and a toddler so friendly and cute, but then, that was really none of his business.

In any case, when he ran into them in the entrance hall of the apartment building, the toddler was having a big temper tantrum (that was a first), and his father, despite his best efforts at calming the child, was completely unsuccessful in stopping the wailing. His usually neutral face was, for once, wrinkled in concern and apparent helplessness.

Wei Ying knew the feeling too well, from similar situations with his own family. Recently, it had been happening particularly often because of Jin Ling, his beloved nephew who had taken an unfortunate page from the book of his father and had started an early ‘nonono, I don’t want to’ phase.

So Wei Ying automatically did what he always did with Jin Ling: he made a stupid face at the toddler, and when the toddler looked at Wei Ying in momentary confusion, Wei Ying grabbed him, lifted him up, and wheeled him around. The kid let out a sound halfway between annoyance and enjoyment. Wei Ying took the chance he got, and folded over with the biggest grin on his face, tilting the child upside down with him. Then he flipped back up, and did it again. By the third time, the child was laughing.

“Again, again!”

Wei Ying did it again, and then tried to set the child down, but it was too late. Quick as anything, two hands grabbed him with surprising strength, and he now had a spider monkey on his hands. The child clung to him, eagerly asking for more parentally inadvisable acrobatics.

Wei Ying looked at the father apologetically, who had witnessed the whole event with the earlier frown still on his face, shrugging a little as he held the little monkey in his arms.

“Sorry for barging in like that,” he said. “It’s just something I picked up from handling my nephew. It works with him every time, so I started doing it automatically. You’re probably busy, I should let you go.”

He tried to hand the boy back to his father, but there was no budging. The child clung to him like a leech, whining at Wei Ying to play with him.

“I am sorry,” the father said, clearly unsure how to handle the situation and his uncooperating child. “He is usually not that difficult. Today is…”

He trailed off.

Wei Ying smiled encouragingly. “Hey, parenting is hard. Tell me, where were you going? I was planning to go to the supermarket near the park, and if you’re heading in the same direction, we can walk together until he’s calmed down a little.”

Wei Ying was almost sure there was something akin to relief in the father’s face.

“I was also heading out for groceries,” the father replied. “If it is not too much to ask…”

“Hey, no biggie,” Wei Ying smiled. “If you carry my groceries, all is well.”

He winked at the boy in his arms.

“Always get others to carry your things.”

“Gege is carrying ME!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, and Wei Ying laughed.

“I see, I see, you are a smart one!”

Wei Ying winked at the father, and after assuring him that he was perfectly fine carrying a toddler around, they walked to the grocery store together.

On the way, Wei Yin learned that the names of father and son were Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan, respectively. They hadn’t been living in the apartment building for very long (Wei Ying had suspected as much), and had recently relocated because Lan Zhan had changed jobs.

Wei Ying felt the urge to ask about the child’s mother, but managed to suppress his curiosity.

It was none of his business, he told himself sternly. He had no place nosing around in a stranger’s private affairs, even when the man in question was particularly handsome, and the toddler particularly cute.

---

Shopping turned out to be way more fun than it usually was. Lan Yuan was still stuck to Wei Ying, unwilling to give up the prime real estate in Wei Ying’s arms, so Wei Ying carried him through the supermarket like a little king, and together, they commanded Lan Zhan what he needed to buy.

Lan Zhan was a strict man that was extremely picky about the foods that he put onto the plate of his child, Wei Ying learned quickly. But he was also a father that very clearly loved by his son, and everything Lan Yuan said was considered seriously, even when it was eventually turned down. Wei Ying almost felt bad to ask Lan Zhan to help him with his groceries, since his eating habits were… nowhere near Lan Zhan’s, that was for sure.

Lan Zhan himself frowned a little when he saw all the stuff that Wei Ying was planning to buy, and though he was evidently trying to restrain himself from commenting, he eventually cracked.

“You do not cook for yourself?” he asked, as Wei Ying snatched another box of frozen food out of the freezer one-handed, balancing Lan Yuan on his hip.

“Not really,” Wei Ying replied lightly. “I’m a horrible cook. My sister banned me from her kitchen.”

“Fresh vegetables are important,” Lan Zhan said, clearly not approving of his dietary choices.

“I know! I have them when I visit my sister. She makes the best food.”

He smiled at Lan Yuan.

“Always eat your veggies, mister, if you want to grow as tall as your dad.”

“I’m gonna be taller!”

It was spoken with so much enthusiasm and conviction that Wei Ying had to laugh.

“You have a lot of work to do and many veggies to eat, then!”

“What about Gege?” Lan Yuan asked. “You also need to eat veggies and grow taller.”

“I’m not going to get any taller now, I’ve reached my maximum height already,” Wei Ying replied. “Not everyone gets to be as tall as your dad.”

That opened an entire new can of worms, because now Lan Yuan wanted to know why Wei Ying wasn’t as tall as his father, and why people were tall or small or fat or thin, and Wei Ying found himself inundated with questions he might have been able to answer more easily if he had been able to pull out his mobile phone and search for some scientifically accurate answers.

But Lan Yuan seemed to enjoy the explanations that Wei Ying could give, so honestly, all was well. He’d apparently completely forgotten the reason why he’d had a meltdown in the entrance hall of their apartment block, and seemed to enjoy being babied by someone other than his father, for once.

“A-Yuan is such a good child,” Wei Ying sighed as they left the supermarket (Lan Zhan carrying Wei Ying’s groceries as promised). “If I ever have children, I also want to have a child like A-Yuan.”

Lan Yuan hugged Wei Ying with a smile, and Wei Ying had to squish the little boy, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of intense affection. He was just too precious. Dammit, he didn’t even have a partner, he couldn’t go around getting baby fever.

“Wei Ying should adopt me!” Lan Yuan exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Like Baba!”

Now that was… Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan, confused about that little nugget of information.

Lan Zhan, not looking at him but at Lan Yuan, chastised his son gently.

“A-Yuan, you cannot simply ask unrelated people to adopt you. I am your cousin. We were family before I adopted you. The same cannot be asked for from unrelated people.”

It was a very rational explanation, Wei Ying thought. It also answered a few questions about the apparent non-existence of a mother. But it also seriously underestimated Wei Ying’s particular brand of free-spiritedness combined with a healthy dose of disregard for societal conventions, so Wei Ying lifted Lan Yuan higher and gave him a cheeky grin.

“For what it’s worth, A-Yuan,” he declared, “I would totally adopt you if given the chance. I don’t think your father would give you up for any price, but just know that I would.”

Lan Yuan gave him the biggest smile in reply, and Lan Zhan gave him the most severe frown he had ever seen in his life, but he didn’t care.

Lan Yuan was just too cute, and Wei Ying was entirely honest when he said that he would adopt a child like him in a heartbeat. Of course, a decision like that would be a big responsibility. Taking care of a life.  But he had never been the type to think about such things carefully before jumping right in. He had always wanted a family. And he had experience in handling kids. He could do it, he knew.

Maybe I should really start to consider having a child, he thought to himself, snuggling Lan Yuan a little tighter, resting their heads together, even without a partner in the picture. I have Dajie too, I can rise a child on my own.

(He did not notice Lan Zhan’s considering gaze.)

---

“Are you a homewrecker now?”

“Hello A-Cheng, it’s nice to hear from you, I’m doing very well, thank you,” Wei Ying sang into the receiver. “Why are you calling?”

“You were seen with a father and his child at the supermarket,” came Jiang Cheng’s angry voice from the other side of the connection. “Flirting inappropriately. Really, now? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with a man that already has a toddler.”

“Ouch, A-Cheng, who do you think I am?” Wei Ying asked theatrically. (If he was honest, the sentiment hurt a little.) “He’s just a neighbour, I was helping out like good neighbours do. He is in fact not married and the child is adopted, so even if I was sleeping with him, which I’m not, there would be nothing inappropriate about it. Also, I have never slept with any man of my acquaintance and I’m not sure why this is coming up now.”

“So that means we don’t have to reserve a seat for him at the next family dinner?”

Wei Ying spluttered. “Wha- what??”

“My sister was really excited at the thought of getting a nephew. I guess it was too much to ask. If you start fucking him, don’t tell me, but I need to know if I have to make more reservations than usual. That’s all. Bye.”

The next moment, Jiang Cheng had hung up, and Wei Ying stared at his phone beeping at him in disbelief.

What the hell?

How had Jiang Cheng even found out he had gone shopping with Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan?

Still shaken and repeating the entire conversation in his head, trying to make sense of it, he heard the doorbell ring. He threw his phone aside and scrambled to get to the door.

As soon as he opened the door, A-Yuan threw himself forward and latched onto Wei Ying’s leg tightly, grinning up at him.

“Gege! Play with me!” he shouted in lieu of a greeting.

Behind him stood Lan Zhan, all prim and proper, with his arms folded behind his back.

“He said he was missing you,” he said with an apologetic bow.

Slowly, Wei Ying bent down and lifted A-Yuan up to settle him on his hip. He stared at Lan Zhan, standing there and staring back, and thought about the strange phone call that he’d just had.

Of course he was happy that A-Yuan wanted to see him again. And of course he was happy that Lan Zhan had come to actively seek him out.

And of course he thought that–

Well.

Quietly, he wondered what it needed to make Lan Zhan accept an invitation for family dinner.

Well, maybe not a family dinner, first thing. Something a little more private was appropriate.

He gave A-Yuan a small kiss to the crown of his head, and saw Lan Zhan following the movement intently.

Hm, he thought giddily. Maybe not quite as much as I thought it might.

He smiled at Lan Zhan.

“Why don’t you come in? I doubt I’m getting this little one off of me very soon.”

[storybookprincess]

hello liv! i am considering leaving my job (which i do like very much but due to Extenuating Circumstances might not be able to stay at much longer) and applying to a job at my local library. i think i'd be great at it but the only thing i'm worried about is being public-facing once again (i've worked many food service/retail jobs). as i'm sure u know the worst part of any customer service job is the customers and i'm just worried about dealing with them again. (c)

i know you love your job and i'd love to hear how the patrons factor (or don't factor) into that. thank you!!!!

ooooooh this is a really interesting question!!! that being said, i’m not sure i can answer it super well. every library position is different, and while mine is very public facing, someone who does more cataloging or collection development wouldn’t have as much interaction with patrons on a day to day basis

however, speaking only about my job in my specific branch of my specific library system, the majority of my job responsibilities absolutely involve working with the public, a lot of which is customer service. personally, i ADORE it, but i’m also incredibly extroverted & thrive in chaos

at least in terms of my job (again, i really can’t speak to others), if someone applied assuming it would be calm, peaceful, and mostly involve recommending books to patrons, the job would not meet their expectations in the slightest. my day to day involves constant people skills, customer service, deescalation of conflicts, and very very little literary expertise. for context, one of my best friends works retail & says the stuff she encounters at her supermarket can’t come close to the absolutely insanity that we deal with at the library

this isn’t to scare you off, and once again, is coming only from a limited perspective of one position, but i would tell someone applying to a role similar to mine to think less about whether they like books & reading, and more about whether they like community engagement, because that is the true heart & soul of what modern libraries do

[wallwriterstuff]

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex. 

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account. 

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was  best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

[mahesiyah]

Sailor Mars/Rei Hino Extended Headcanon III

Part 1

Part 2

A month passed since the attack on Chess Tower. No threats had been made toward any of the remaining Crystal Points, yet the senshi still stayed vigilant.

Ami, Minako, and Makoto all ended up getting part-time jobs at the bookstore, video game shop and supermarket respectively in order to maximize the amount of time they could spend protecting their assigned Crystal Points.

Usagi already had a job she loved, but she still managed to spend plenty of time safeguarding Bob Floy by visiting every day and ordering ice cream. Sometimes she'd stop by twice or even three times a day. In fact, she ate so much ice cream, she ended up gaining 10 pounds in a month. (She didn't care, though.)

But Rei's experience was a different story. She lived at Hikawa Shrine, and for an entire month, she did not leave the premises.

She initially found guarding the shrine to be peaceful, yes. She found it calming, having the entire place to herself, without her pervert grandfather present to screw things up. But about a week or so after the Chess Tower attack, Rei started to miss his presence.

She started to miss anyone's presence. Two weeks passed and she still refused to leave. Everyone started to grow concerned for Rei's wellbeing, but she wouldn't budge, not even to go to the grocery store to restock her fridge. So Makoto delivered her groceries, from time to time. Ami brought her books to read and Minako let her borrow video games to help quell her boredom. Usagi would often pick up an additional ice cream cone from Bob Floy for Rei, but it was usually half-eaten by the time she arrived at the shrine.

"Are you serious, Usagi?" Rei fumed, looking at the third ice cream cone Usagi couldn't refrain from eating. "AGAIN?!?"

"It was starting to melt and I didn't want it to go to waste!" Usagi whined.

"Besides," Usagi continued. "This wouldn't be an issue if you'd just go with me next time."

"You know I can't leave the shrine," Rei replied.

"Yes you can! It's been a month since the attack on Chess Tower and nothing has happened to any of the future Crystal Points. I'm starting to think the attack might not have anything to do with the building's status as a future Crystal Point."

"We don't know that for sure. Luna and Artemis haven't been able to determine anything for certain yet, other than the fact that it wasn't an accident."

Usagi had a concerned look on her face. "Rei-chan, I'm worried about you. You haven't left home in a month. Aren't you worried about falling behind in school?"

"Funny of you to be concerned about that," Rei chuckled. "I convinced my jerk politician father to make himself useful for once and pull some strings. Since I'm grieving my grandfather's death, my school's letting me finish the rest of my final year remotely. They send me written lessons in the mail, as well as homework, which I simply have to complete and mail back before it's due. See? I don't have any reason to leave the shrine."

"But Rei--"

"That's enough!" Rei shouted, interrupting Usagi. "It's just not the same for any of you. This is my home that might be under attack. First I lost my grandfather. I don't want to lose my home as well. I have so much more at stake here than the rest of you do. Especially with grandfather gone, it's my duty to protect this sacred area."

"Okay, well couldn't you hire some extra help?" Usagi suggested. "That way, you wouldn't need to be at the shrine 24/7."

"And put them in harm's way? Absolutely not. What if something bad happens and I'm not there to put a stop to it? I couldn't live with myself if I put innocent people in danger."

"Rei..."

"Now I think it'd be best for you to leave, before I get really upset."

"Okay," Usagi relented. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Rei nodded once in agreement, without saying a word, her head and body turned away from Usagi.

And then, Usagi began to walk back home.

TO BE CONTINUED

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin - The Stories Project

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for content not yet released in EN!🍒

Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide

Features S2 Gavin but contains no spoilers regarding the S2 storyline

This is a continuation of The Broadcast Countdown Project. Do read that first!

[ This was released on 25 August 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

Gavin and I are standing outside Door 501 of the 7th block in Pavilion Village.

This is also the home of Zhang Nian, the kidnapper who handed me an anonymous letter in the TV station before eventually committing suicide.

A thorough investigation of the case involving the anonymous kidnapper and his suicide has ended. The STF has also removed the cordoning around the scene.

I liaised with the TV station, planning to showcase the incident from start to end in a special episode of the show which will be aired in the last episode of “Inquiries”.

Gavin: This used to be a crime scene. If you’re afraid, wait for me here. If you need any materials, I can head inside and find them for you.

MC: It’s okay, I don’t avoid such things... Also, I have a feeling that there’s definitely something behind this case worth seeing in person.

The husband and wife who were kidnapped had related the details to me, and mentioned that even though Zhang Nian had kidnapped them, they weren’t treated harshly at all.

It’s just that Zhang Nian was deaf and couldn't speak. He could only communicate with them with hems and haws, which ended up frightening them.

In hindsight, they realised that Zhang Nian never harboured malicious intentions towards them.

MC: What was Zhang Nian’s goal and what did he want to tell us? The answers to these riddles... they might be hidden here.

Gavin pushes the door open, and we step into Zhang Nian’s house.

Gavin: This place was sealed off since the incident, which is why the arrangement of furniture we’re looking at is the same as when he was still alive.

In contrast to the dim and cold space I had imagined, the living room is well lit.

The cream coloured wood flooring, a white cloth sofa, a simple wall painting of the ocean... all of these elements set off one another in the indolent afternoon sunlight, displaying a warm atmosphere. 

MC: This place gives me such a strange feeling... the person who lived here must have really loved life...

Gavin: His fiancée decorated this place.

Gavin taps on a magnet on the refrigerator. Tiny colourful slips of paper are stuck underneath zebra, bunny, and elephant magnets. 

“Special discount for wax gourds on Tuesday, special discount for pork ribs on Thursday.” - It’s as though the weekly booklet of discounts from the supermarket had been copied down.

“Invitation cards, wedding dress, decide on the hotel.” - The ring which had rolled onto the zebra crossing in the news immediately flashes across my mind.

Aside from that, they have simple recipes on them.

MC: What a pity. If that incident didn’t happen, they would have had a perfect life here.

Gavin: All the furnishings and decor came to a halt when the incident happened to Xu Wen. He did everything he could to retain traces of her existence. As for his own life...

Gavin opens the refrigerator, showing me that it’s more or less empty aside from condiments which had been used a few times. 

White cold mist hover in the empty space, out of sync with the warm tones in the living room.

Gavin: This too.

He opens a wall cabinet to reveal a few boxes of ordinary flavoured cup noodles. The incandescent light in the cabinet is chilly, shining on plastic film surrounding the cup noodles.

Imagining the taste of cup noodles submerged in MSG, I once again turn towards the recipes stuck on the refrigerator.

Gavin shuts the cabinet, then points at the bedroom.

Gavin: MC, I want to show you something.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

Gavin: During the investigation, we found these.

Gavin guides me to the bookcase, then pulls open a drawer at the bottom.

MC: A disability ID, marriage certificate, graduation certificate, guarantee card for a hearing aid and a bank book...

Gavin: We checked his background. He grew up in an orphanage. 

Gavin: Back then, the orphanage didn’t have adequate facilities, and didn’t have teachers or special medical setups for guiding people with hearing issues. He was always reclusive in the orphanage, and didn't have friends. 

Gavin: When he was ten years old, people from the orphanage and community sent him to school.

While saying this, Gavin retrieves a pile of books from the drawer and shows them to me - they are all sketchbooks, and the pages have long since turned yellow. It’s evident that they were here for a very long time.

MC: He can draw?

Gavin: In these books, there are some sketches of streets and still life. Some are comics modelled after existing works. Although I don’t know much about art, I think he could draw pretty well.

While flipping through the pages, I find myself affected by the exquisite details conveyed in these drawings.

Perhaps because he didn’t go through systematic training, he wasn’t limited to one style in the way he expressed his art.

A distinct and unique style leaving a deep impression seems to break through the sheets of paper, revealing the emotions the artist had hidden in his heart.

MC: ...he must have been a really talented artist. 

Gavin points at the wall - there’s a sketch hanging on it. It takes up almost half of the wall, and it’s mounted in a white frame.

MC: The person in the drawing is Xu Wen.

MC: ...it’s drawn really well.

Gavin releases a “mm”, and is unable to hold back a sigh.

Gavin: Extraordinarily well.

It doesn’t matter if it resembles the actual person. It doesn’t matter if it was meticulous or not. 

The person in the drawing has her eyes curved upwards with a smile on her face, and she looks like any other young girl you can find in a crowd.

But the limitless gentleness and happiness contained in her eyes - that’s a unique feature belonging only to one person.

Gavin: They seemed to be schoolmates. I read through Xu Wen’s background - she graduated from the same school for deaf students. But there weren't any questionable points in this case, which is why we didn’t probe further. If you want to know the specifics, we'd have to investigate again.

My heart hovers in the air, wanting to figure out everything about this matter.

But from the STF’s perspective, this case is already closed...

Gavin gives me an affirmative gaze.

Gavin: I know what you're going to say. I want to continue listening to this story too. He wasn’t able to speak, but he left behind a voice that he hoped for others to hear.

After a pause, he turns his head, once again glancing at the drawing hanging on the wall.

Gavin: I can feel such emotions.

Gavin says this softly, and the light in his eyes grow deeper.

Floating dust in the surroundings gather on Xu Wen's portrait. We stand in this warm and tranquil space, as though we can sense their story surging forth without a sound.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

After this, Gavin and I gather information about Zhang Nian and Xu Wen from various sources.

A few days alter, we arrange to meet at a cafe to exchange materials collected from our individual investigations.

MC: I found the teacher from the school for deaf students. He said that when Zhang Nian first arrived at the school, he didn’t even know how to use sign language. He was gloomy and blue. 

MC: Only Xu Wen knew how to converse with him, and would teach him sign language after school. 

MC: After learning of his interest in drawing, she used her pocket money to buy him colouring pencils and drawing paper in secret without her parents’ knowledge. 

MC: They had a pretty happy time in school. Zhang Nian even organised a small exhibition in school, and many teachers and students supported it. 

MC: But after graduation, his days became a little more difficult.

He didn’t have a place to stay, and he couldn’t find work. While Xu Wen could rely on her parents for financial assistance, he could only rely on himself. 

MC: During this time, Xu Wen seemed to have been using her parents’ money to buy him stationery for drawing, and even accompanied him to set up a stall for his paintings...

MC: But they couldn’t earn money at all.

Gavin opens a few files in front of me.

Gavin: Afterwards, he found a job in a finance company. He went around conducting financial transactions for people, and earned commissions based on the number of successful transactions.

Gavin: Not long after, this company was reported for illegal fund-raising. Both he and his boss were jailed for three years.

I recall seeing his ID from before - a crew cut and a white shirt along with a black suit which looked tidy and fitting.

Turns out he wasn’t working at a bank...

Gavin: Even during his time in jail, Xu Wen never gave up on him. She’d visit him every weekend and converse with him via sign language from across the glass.

Gavin: Of course, Zhang Nian behaved very well in jail, and gave his own drawings to many prison guards. After he was out of jail, he found a stable job.

Separated by the scorching 3pm afternoon sunlight, the gaze Gavin gives me is deep with a tranquil light.

Gavin: Do you know why he planned this kidnapping and handed you the video clip anonymously?

I shake my head. This has been my biggest question.

Gavin takes out a few photographs from the file.

Gavin: Before the case was closed, these documents couldn’t be disclosed to the public, which is why I didn’t tell you at the time.

I scrutinise one of the photographs - an A3-sized sheet of paper is stuck on a door, with a few lines written on it.

From the format of the digits, they appear to be bank account numbers.

Gavin: He was behind this door.

MC: Then these bank account numbers...

Gavin: We checked them.

He points at the first line of digits, then speaks calmly.

Gavin: The first account is for an animal treatment centre. It treats stray cats and dogs which meet with accidents. 

Gavin: This one is for a 10 year old girl with hearing issues. She lives with a granny who sells fruits, and is currently saving money for surgery.

Gavin: The both of them had a habit of sending money to these accounts.

Gavin: Even though Zhang Nian continued sending money to them after Xu Wen passed away, he could only maintain his own livelihood with his income.

MC: What you’re saying is, if the video camera could capture this... and document them properly so that more people would know about them...

Perhaps he could help these people. Even if it was for the last time.

MC: ...but that was such a complex method. There was no need to do a good deed in such a roundabout manner, and even kidnap people to reach that goal.

Gavin silently picks up one of the photos from the table - it’s a note that Zhang Nian wrote before he committed suicide. A short message is written on it - It’s Wen Wen’s birthday today.

Gavin: Aside from that, he more or less did think of seeking revenge.

Gavin’s finger remains on the photograph.

Gavin: In Zhang Nian’s life, Xu Wen was the only one who gave him warmth. She was his lover. 

Gavin: After losing such a person, it isn’t difficult to guess what kind of an attitude he had when facing this world, and facing the people who caused such an ending.

Gavin: When people are in pain, their hatred will involuntarily become amplified.

Gavin: From this perspective, at least he didn't take things even further.

Gavin’s voice is dull, as though he’s mulling over something, or affected by their misfortune.

I can’t help but reach across the table, gently bumping the tip of his finger with mine. 

Silence permeates the air. He curls his finger slightly, hooking it around mine.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

The files, photographs, and a few scattered pages of a notebook are spread on the table randomly, as though illustrating their entire story in front of me.

The car accident was a tragedy, but it wasn’t the only tragedy. I find myself hesitating to speak. When I open my mouth, I sigh.

MC: Xu Wen was such a good person. She tugged onto him from beginning to end, and never gave up on him for a single moment. She actually managed to pull him out of the abyss.

Even though she couldn’t hear nor speak, she used her gentle gaze to heal the person she loved.

Gavin tidies the items on the table one by one, storing them properly.

His composed voice is mixed with ruefulness. He seems to be slightly moved, but has more or less come to terms with his emotions.

Gavin: From the perspective of an observer, there were many dismal and extreme traits in Zhang Nian’s personality. This is a point that can’t be denied.

Gavin: However, he was abandoned from the moment he was born. The path he walked on all these years, and the world that he saw - those are things we’d find difficult to relate with.

Gavin: Perhaps from the time he knew about the world, he realised that living was already something requiring courage.

Probably seeing such stories again and again when handling various cases, Gavin’s attitude is objective and calm.

Gavin: No matter what attitude he had when he made this decision, he shouldn’t have done so.

In contrast to the practised manner in which Gavin handles his emotions, I remain immersed in the regretful ending experienced by the two.

MC: Aside from her, he had nothing else.

The furniture, the recipes underneath the magnets, and the drawing hung on the wall... these images flash past me one by one.

MC: If I were the one who experienced this, and the only important person in my life was gone, I’d lose my connection with this world. Perhaps death would be a form of liberation.

Before I can finish speaking, Gavin raises his voice, cutting off my impending sigh.

Gavin: It wouldn’t.

He looks at me resolutely and decisively.

Gavin: No matter when, death will never be a form of liberation. Pain can always be treated. 

Gavin: Whether it’s because someone important is no longer around, or if you were to lose contact with someone, it’s inevitable to carry some pain.

Gavin: Perhaps time is needed, and perhaps meeting a certain someone is needed, to gradually put an end to such pain, and to use various methods to put an end to such pain.

Gavin: But things will always get better.

Gavin seals the brown paper bag which is filled with materials related to Zhang Nian and Xu Wen, then places it at the corner of the table which has been warmed by the sun.

I watch as his palm presses against the paper bag, a moment of hesitation surging past his slightly lowered gaze. Almost at the same time, he looks up at me -

There’s only certainty in his eyes.

Gavin: No matter when, never give up on yourself. Xu Wen was constantly pulling him out of the abyss. He shouldn’t have given up like that.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

By the time Gavin and I walk out of the cafe, much of the sun’s heat has dispersed. Wind blows over from the river, and it’s refreshing and soothing.

Countless little flowers with names I’m unaware of bloom among the grass along the street, swaying in the evening breeze of midsummer.

MC: The weather is really nice today.

After sitting down for an entire afternoon, I can’t help but stretch, relaxing my shoulders and back.

Before I can take a few steps, I suddenly remember the moment I met Zhang Nian face-to-face, causing me to halt in my footsteps. He had walked towards me in a timid manner, a sincere and apologetic expression on his face.

He had handed me a letter, its edges creased from being pinched. Then, he turned away hurriedly before running away.

Too much time has passed. Even his Evol has lost its effectiveness.

Gavin senses that something is off about me, and draws a few steps closer. I wave my hand at him, signalling that I’m fine.

Having second thoughts, I can’t help but sigh with emotion.

MC: If only Zhang Nian was willing to contact me earlier and tell me about what exactly happened...

MC: If only I could tell him how nice today’s weather is. I wonder if he’d have made such a decision.

Gavin responds decisively from beside me.

Gavin: He wouldn’t. 

Gavin: If someone told him that the weather would be nice today, he’d have definitely held on for a while longer.

Gavin: But he couldn’t always wait for someone to pull him along and bring him out of the abyss. He had to muster his courage and walk out by himself.

I nod quietly, gripping the notebook in my hand. 

MC: Gavin, aside from the original plan for this episode, I think I’d need to add some new content...

Gavin halts in his footsteps, immediately reading the thoughts in my heart.

Gavin: Are you thinking about how there are many people in the world like Zhang Nian?

MC: Mm.

There are definitely some people who are shouldering pain alone, and are hesitating at the crossroads of life and death.

MC: Although this tragedy can no longer be salvaged, we could prevent even more tragedies from occurring.

I turn towards the direction of the river, looking afar at the boundless sky.

MC: I want to tell them about the beautiful scenery all around the world, and the beauty of the four seasons.

MC: Tell them about the colours of sunset, the sounds of the ocean...

MC: And tell them that as long as they’re willing to wait for a while longer, there are still people on earth who will love them.

MC: I want their eyes to be able to see the world that I see. I want them to believe that this world is always worth it.

Realising how overly idealistic and visionary my words are, I give Gavin a smile.

MC: ...I might have sounded too exaggerated.

Gavin: Nope. It will be a very meaningful show.

He suddenly reaches out, combing my hair which has been blown messy by the wind. His fingers linger on the ends of my hair for a long time.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and he brings me into his arms.

Gavin: Thank you.

Gavin: This world is always worth it.

His voice is far too soft. For a moment, I wonder if I misheard.

MC: What did you say? I couldn’t hear you clearly.

Gavin chuckles, then raises his volume.

Gavin: Since the weather’s pretty good, want to go for a drive?

MC: Did you drive here today?

Gavin: Mm. It’s rare to have such nice weather, so I took the car out for a drive.

MC: Wow~ That is rare. It’s been such a long time since I sat in Captain Gavin’s car.

Gavin takes my hand, striding with large steps as he leads me forward.

Gavin: Let’s go. The car’s in front.

- End -

Filming for the special episode of “Inquries” came to an end. When the final episode aired, the show became a trending topic. After watching it, many members of the audience provided assistance and support for organisations targeted at disabled individuals. Although Zhang Nian and Xu Wen have already left this world, they’ve enabled people who experience difficulties in life to obtain warmth. Such warmth continues to last. I guess being able to allow more people to believe that the world is worth loving, and to do what little they can to help those in need is what it means to be a person in the media industry.

More S2 content: here