#I RUSHED SO FAST TO DRAW THIS. U DONT UNDERSTAND

[pest1c1de]

*foams at the mouth*

Dude I LOVE your art, the way you draw certain characters is just *chefs kiss*!

Could we get Sebastian pressure and the player getting along for once or a hug? Thank you so much and again, YOUR ART IS AWESOME!!!!

i think he needs one anyway

[lesbobiwan]

Congrats on 100! 🥳 I was wondering if I could request #100 and Wolffe 💕

thank u so much for the request!!!

#100: "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you." + Wolffe

warnings: kinda public sex. you dont fuck in front of anyone but its kinda close, jealous sex, clothed sex, creampies

You could think of a million different things you'd rather be doing right now.

You'd rather clean the barrack bathrooms after the boys don't have the heart to turn down Plo's well-meaning attempt at cooking. You'd rather be dropped off on an abandoned planet and be told to find a way off. You'd rather be getting shot at by fucking Seppies.

But, no. You're here in this ridiculous dress for some party thrown in the name of the GAR's brave and selfless troopers.

What a load of shit.

As if any of those senators give a shit about any of these men aside from how a picture of them shaking hands will boost their approval ratings.

You know you were invited as a deliberate political move. As the only volunteer nat-born medic for the 104th, you make the war easier to look at.

Look, Senators will say while they point to you, we don't rely solely on the creation of clones who are made to fight and die for a war they have no choice in! We have regular people involved in the war too!

Again. What a load of shit.

It's sickening the way that these politicians will pretend to care about the well-being of the soldiers who fight and die for them when it will make them look good. These people, if you can even call them that, don't know what it's like on the front lines.

You can barely understand what it's like on the frontlines, but you see the aftermath. You see the shell-shocked shinies and the trembling hands of even the most veteran trooper after a battle gone wrong.

Politicians are a disease, you think to yourself, and the sooner you can get out of this ridiculous dress the better.

The only benefit to this is the free champagne and the way Wolffe acts as a deterrent to any smart Senator or politician that comes your way.

Dressed to impress in a sharp gray suit, Wolffe cuts an imposing figure next to you. The tight suit jacket makes his already broad shoulders look impossibly broader and the buttons of his dress shirt strain against the muscles of his chest.

Your dress seems to compliment Wolffe in every way. Your dress is mainly white, but the gray accents serve as a subtle call to Wolffe's suit. Claiming you as his, you like to think. The same designs etched into the cuffs and collar of Wolffe's suit jacket are present at the bottom of your dress, circling the hem before fading as you look higher up the dress.

You think you'd enjoy the night if it wasn't for the Senate's... everything. You may be in a war, but you enjoy looking and feeling pretty. You think you'd feel very pretty if the meaning of the night didn't make you feel sick to your stomach.

With the commander acting as your shadow for the night, you've had little trouble keeping pesky Senators looking for a quick fuck away from you.

At least... the smart ones.

"As I was saying, my father is one of the main beneficiaries of the GAR," the boy — and truly he isn't enough to call a man — prattles on in front of you, totally oblivious to your uninterested expression and the clone commander hovering over your shoulder. You think he might be a senatorial aide and his father might be the Senator?

You wonder if you should adjust the plunging neckline of the dress so that the hickey Wolffe left behind last night peeks into eyesight.

"And I tell him that he shouldn't waste our family money on this war. Honestly, there's no need for clones," he continues, eyes flickering to Wolffe before he turns back to you, "I mean, what could clones possibly provide that a real man can't?"

He leans towards you, and with his last few words he drags his knuckles lightly up your arm. A smile that he must think is charming slithers onto his face as he continues to caress your crawling skin.

"Better company, for one," you mumble into your champagne glass before you can cause a scene. You drain the rest of the drink before you say something stupid.

You don't think you muffle it well enough because Wolffe's shoulders shake in muffled laughter behind you.

"Would you like to dance?" The aide blurts out, and once caressing fingers turn into a greedy grabbing hand closing around your wrist.

Wolffe stiffens behind you, jolting against your back before stopping himself.

Your face morphs into one of distain before you can stop it, "Actually," you begin, yanking your wrist from a sweaty palm, "I promised Commander Wolffe my first dance," your smile is so obviously fake it's painful, but the aide doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, maybe after you're done with the trooper, we can —"

"It's Commander," Wolffe finally speaks up, and his gravely voice has goosebumps spreading across your skin.

"Excuse me?"

Wolffe's hand splays across the small of your back as he steps beside you, "I said, it's commander," he repeats, voice cold like stone. Fuck, it makes your thighs rub together beneath your dress.

The aide's nose scrunches up, "Yes, well, when you're done with the commander, maybe you'll come my way?"

What is it with men not taking a hint?

"No, I don't think so," Wolffe answers for you before the hand on your back shifts from just a grounding touch to a guiding one, and he's leading you away.

Your skin is alight with excitement. You look up at the commander, whose jaw in clenched in obvious irritation. It makes you feel guilty, but Wolffe looks extremely attractive when he's pissed.

"Wolffe, we just passed the dance floor," you whisper as he rushes you past the chunk of the room marked out for couples to hold each other close and sway to the music.

"I know," Wolffe says shortly, leading you to the nearest exit so fast that you nearly fall out of your impractical shoes.

He practically drags you out the door and into one of the hallways you know you aren't allowed to be in.

"Wolffe, where are we — Oh!"

The commander cages you against the wall, hands on either side of your head as his hips press flush to yours through your dress. You can feel the bulge of his cock even through the layers of your clothes.

He breathes in deep through his nose before he speaks, "You're mine, you know that, right?" he rocks his hips against you as he speaks, and you don't get the best friction through the poofiness of your dress, but it's his words that make your thighs clench.

"Yes," you whisper into the space between you, "only yours, Wolffe,"

And it's true. You are Wolffe's no matter the setting — battlefield or ballroom — and no matter the outfits — hard plastoid armor or dashing suits and dresses.

Wolffe stares down at you, breathing hard through his mouth, searching for something in your face before he leans down to crush your lips together.

He kisses you like he's fighting. It's vicious and he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth until you whine, and it's only then that he lets it go. "Call me selfish," he whispers in your ear before he flips you around so that your face is pressed flush with the wall, "but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

Wolffe's hands are desperate as he begins to wrench the layers of your dress up and up until it's all bunched up above your hips, leaving your lower half exposed to him.

He inhales sharply at the sight of the lingerie the women who helped you into the dress had given you.

You never know whose going to unwrap you by the end of the night, one of the women had whispered like a secret to you.

But that wasn't true. You knew exactly who was going to unwrap you.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, dragging one of his hands across the delicate lace that covers your ass. "You wear this just for me?"

You pant against the wall, hands scrambling for purchase as Wolffe leans down to bite the meat of your ass. "Shit!" you gasp, just a bit too loud for comfort.

Wolffe drags his teeth down the curve of your ass, nosing at the wet patch of your panties. "How long have you been this wet, pretty girl?" he demands, pressing the tips of his fingers against the wet lace over your clit.

Your hips jerk against him. It's exhilarating to thing that only one door and a left turn separates a room full of Senators and Very Important People from the two of you.

It's filthy what you're doing. You're sure if anyone were to see you — pressed face first into a wall with little regard for the makeup that was applied to you with more caution than one treats a bomb and your expensive dress hiked up around your waist to expose your soaking cunt, you'd single-handedly ruin all efforts to draw support for the GAR.

"Answer me," Wolffe spits out as he drags your panties down your ass to let them fall around your ankles. One broad hand swats at your ass, right over the pulsing bite mark he left behind.

"All night!" you sob into the wall, biting your hand to muffle the groans you want to let out. "As soon as I saw you in that suit!"

A part of you wishes Wolffe would turn you back around. You want to see him in that suit — want to watch his muscles bunch and flex beneath the delicate fabric.

Wolffe's huff of laughter blows a puff of hot air against your cunt, making you clench around nothing. "You like me in this suit, sweet thing?" He raises to his feet and you can hear his hands fumbling with his belt and zipper. "Well, I'm about to fuck you in it,"

You whimper into the back of your hand. Your own slick starts to drip down your leg. "Please."

The blunt head of Wolffe's cock presses against your entrance. Usually he would make you cum at least once before he fucks you just to get you ready for his girth, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You want Wolffe to fuck you, and you want to feel the stretch. You want him to fuck the feeling of that grimy aide touching you out of your head.

"S'that what you want?" Wolffe breathes as he starts to slide in, "you want to forget that boy? Huh? You want to be fucked by a man?"

A keen catches in your throat as he sinks in halfway. Fuck, you feel like you're being split in half. His cock just keeps going and going in this position, and all you can do is take it.

You bite down hard into the back of your hand as Wolffe finally bottoms out, but Wolffe grabs your hair, fancy curls and accessories be damned, and pulls your mouth away from your hand.

"Don't you dare," he hisses as his hips set a deafening pace. "Don't you dare hide your noises from me. I want to hear you — I want them to hear you."

Your moan echoes through the hallway.

There's something feral in the way that Wolffe fucks you. With his suit still on, totally presentable besides the cock that's been pulled out of the fly, he's beautiful.

You, on the other hand, look filthy. Your eye makeup is smudged with the tears that Wolffe forces out of you, and you know your hair will be a lost cause by the end of this. Your dress is already wrinkling and your delicate stockings are ruined with the slick that drips down your legs from your cunt.

"Wolffe!" you cry out as pressure in your core tightens.

"'m gonna cum," Wolffe grunts, hips pistoning even faster.

He's ruining you, you think through the haze of pleasure. He's ruining you and you love it.

"Please," you sob, one of your hands leaving the wall to grab at his hips. You almost can't hold on due to the force and speed of his thrusts, but your fingers claw into the fabric of his jacket and you hold on for dear life as he brings you closer and closer to release.

"I think I'll come in this tight little cunt, what do you think?" Wolffe drags the blunt edge of his teeth along your neck and up your jawline, ending just under your ear, "Stuff you full of me, and send you back into that ballroom,"

You clench at the thought. Fuck, you want that so bad.

You're nearly incoherent with pleasure. You're just babbling in agreement to the filth that drips from Wolffe's mouth like the slick that drips from your cunt.

"You like that?" Wolffe asks even though he knows the answer, "You want me to send you in there smelling like sex and dripping my cum?"

One of his hands snake around to circle mercilessly around your clit. The pressure nearly has your knees give out.

"I think I'll keep your panties with me," Wolffe whispers in your ear, "so I'll drip out of that pretty cunt and down your thighs for the rest of the night."

The pressure in your core snaps and you cum around him with a wail.

Wolffe clamps a hand over your mouth as his thrusts turn more into grinds. His teeth sink into your neck as he finally spills inside you.

The feeling of his cum flooding your cunt has you clenching around him even more.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, fucking his cum into your spent cunt with an obscene squelch. "Fuck, you're so tight, pretty girl,"

You moan faintly, thighs trembling as he finally pulls out. A gush of his cum starts to drip out. You clench weakly, trying your best to keep it in.

Wolffe presses a kiss to the back of your neck, "Step out of your panties, sweet thing," he whispers into your skin, hands on your hips to steady you as you do what he asked.

You stand on coltish legs, wobbling in your heels with the aftermath of your orgasm, as Wolffe bends down to grab your ruined panties and stuff them in his pockets.

They ruin the line of his suit, and anyone who looks at him for more than half a second will know he's got something in his pocket that shouldn't be there, but you think no one will be looking at him when you're there.

Not with your hair a mess and mascara smeared just so around your eyes. Not when you reek of sex and sweat and there are bite marks littered across your skin. Not when your dress is so obviously wrinkled due to less-than-appropriate events.

Still, you walk back into the ballroom with your arm linked with Wolffe's and his cum sliding down your thigh and soaking into your stockings.

The senatorial aide doesn't bother you for the rest of the night, but that might have something to do with the clone commander flashing him a bit of lace from his jacket pocket.

When you get back to the barracks, Wolffe fucks you with those same ruined panties in your mouth to make sure none of the boys hear you two.

[legendaryoikawa]

while we’re young / suna rintarou

a valentines day collab hosted by @prettysetterbaby​

synopsis: your self proclaimed unromantic boyfriend is eating you hard on his bed full of roses and jhene aiko blasting on his busted speakers.

this was made the last minute and i forgot to post this yesterday because i was asleep the whole valentines day lmao. also thank u to @godjo for helping me with my trashy writing skills HAHA ur the mvp bitch

minors dni (i dont want to go to jail istg 🦧)

"where are you bringing me this valentines?" you asked while struggling to carry out the huge heart plastic containers he gave filled with melted chocolates that looked ransacked.

"to my room," he replied shortly.

his back hunched as he glided down the school's marble hallway as if it's his own walkway.

"i'm sorry, what?” you exasperated.

you somewhat expected a fine dinner cuisine with him in a bow but his lack of preparedness as evidenced by the melted chocolates he managed to steal from the school's stalls and withered flowers that you immediately threw away)

you shouldn't be expecting so much. what you should so, is mediocrity.

he dragged his words as if he was talking to a toddler who's throwing a tantrum,

"i said... in my room.. do you not understand baby girl?" (

“excuse me suna? but in your bedroom... valentines?” you scoffed. disbelief painted on your face

“do you want me to spell it out for you, doll?”

suna gave you a benovelent smile imbued with smoldering intensity that makes your guts churn with both lust and chaos.

you rolled your eyes. sarcasm evident on your tongue as you said, "you are so romantic."

his lips drawled out stinging satire, “oh love, trust me. i am romantic even without trying.”

you roll your eyes, “aight, bet.”

he glanced behind his shoulder. his slitted eyes staring down on your orbs, deep and feline.

"but my dick is,” his words were dangling in the air leaving you there with an open mouth.

the students around you gave the same astonished look as yours but he gave no fuck at all.

smirking he turns around once again as he made sure his tone is higher than his usual.

“cum on brat.”

and that brat that is you chased him all the way down to his honda covic.

suna rintarou is not romantic. but he definitely made you cum in all possible position in his room. that valentines day.

NSFW AHEAD

you couldn’t contain yourself, especially when all he does was to tease you all the way down the corridor.

albeit harmless was his banters, but it definitely left you with oozing discharge and a sticky thigh— and sexual frustration if you could draw it out clearly.

“you know what?” you gritted in frustration when his fingers played with your clothed sex.

you found that gesture hot especially when his other arm was busy with yours and his other maneuvering the wheel with such suaveness

he looked at you smugly, “what?”

you moaned and laid your head on the headrest, eyes rolling back, “fuck you.”

“i will,” he said lackadaisically. his fingers elegantly made its way onto your damp clothed clit.

you widened up your legs in response and lifting up your hips to maximize the friction— you were growing too impatient and it send delight to suna rintarou.

“look at the brat who’s whimpering for my fingers?” he teased, playfully lifting his fingers only to jab it down to your clit again

“screw you and your dick suna,” you glared while trying to catch your breath from the supposed climax but he decides to pull his hands away to drive with two hands on the stirring wheel

“edging makes the dream work, brat.”

he parked his car haphazardly on his driveway. like a fucked parking and he didn’t even tried to fix it up

“you’re trying to get ticketed aren’t you?” you exhaled and looked at him with in hazy

he makes a contemplating face—one brow up, eyes boring into yours, lips pinned together then switched up into something like a snicker

“you’ll be paying for it.”

“excuse me?”

“happy valentines brat.”

you gasped in disbelief as he climbed out of his car and leaving you there alone, not even bothering to open up the door for you

he really is taking up feminism to a while new level and chivalry isn’t part of his vocabulary

you dragged yourself and closed his door with a bang.

only if you weren’t so needy and you would definitely leave suna’s ass without second doubt.

but priorities first and your pussy is throbbing at the moment and it makes you downright annoyed

glaring, you entered his apartment.

nothing usual— his psp laid there untouched with unorganized wires all around the console, an ashtray with few marlboro butts about one a nd a half inches, his sofa was not made, the pearl bracelet you gave him sat on the center table along with his other trinkets

you squinted when you felt the thin walls vibrate, he played a song with heavy bass and calm beat and soothing vocals

ah, you remembered how you mentioned jhene aiko to him one time.

you didn’t felt his looming presence from behind and his voice startled the soul out of you

“im not good at talking so go in the room,” he marches away and you weren’t able to see it through but he was completely shirtless.

you had to squint (due to his poor overhead lights) to see his trapezius bulging out whenever he flex his shoulders.

“fuck it come here, I don’t have all day,” he dragged you away and you were shocked to see the scene unfolding fast

it wasnt the ideal setting but the fact that he attempted to present you a bed of roses with candlelights standing in line on the headboard (you suppose were from his cupboard) instantly sent intense feeling bubbling in your chest cavity

he hates all of these but he pulled it off just as you liked

you turned to him, wrapping your arms on his neck

“i never thought you’d be this romance maniac?”

he raised a brow, “ive had enough of your bullshit,” he pushed your body on his bed, roses flying over your frame as he climbed over you, “let get down to the serious business.”

he started sloppily,

his hands were gropping you in all directions lazily, not that you mind much especially when a hotheaded cocky bastard is leading you on and keeps calling you a brat

his tongue teased your lower lip while his hand groped the curvature of your breasts

you let out a quiet whimper while trying to grind onto him as he was taking too much of his sweet time into tormeting you

he sighs after being content with your lips

he crawls down and lifted your skirt

oh.

“consider this as a consolation from the wrecked chocolates a while ago, atsumu was dumb for sitting on ‘em”

you couldn’t form any coherent words especially when he’s down there breathing onto your pulsing sex

he grins upon the sight of your face—mixture of frustration and needy

he burried his face onto yours, licking the same damp spot he was playing with in the car a while back

you threw your head back, burrying your face into his pillows upon the sensation you felt from his tongue

you tugged on the underware and it just made you nothing but slicker with desire

“why the rush brat?”

you replied with a shaky voice, “I thought you don’t have all day?”

“when did i start being so serious with my words?” he pulled the fabric down. “you should’ve known now that when it comes to your cunt, im always free.”

his mouth returned to your pussy but this time with raging intensity it made you moan out loud

his tongue swirled onto your clit, his nose brushing against your slick folds

he lifted one leg onto his shoulders and continued on with his business

his tongue licked circles, pushed into yours while his hands worked their way from behind, massaging your ass and thighs tenderly

he ate you out slowly with intensity it made you crazy

your vision became blurry as the growing sensation deep down your pit started to plummet

the shock from his tongue made you dizzy but nevertheless he continued on, smirking occasionally upon the sight of you gripping his sheets and squirming

“that was crazy,” you began as you recollected yourself from your high

suna pulled a gold foil from his back pockets

“yeah, and we were just getting started.”

happy late valentines yall!!

[freerebelmentality]

The high cost of living

AN:  ***TRIGGER WARNING*** MENTIONS OF DRUG USE AND OVERDOSE. **  Ok may I request a Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain and her brothers found out and are not happy it and the reader just not having it and doesn’t want help and can’t handle being lectured about her brothers so she runs away and overdoses and her brothers find her but in the end her brothers help her in recovery and it fluffy in the end And can the reader age around 16-19 is up too you i hope this is ok for u if not I can change it. Requested by @supernerdycookietrashblr ** I took out the self harm and just stuck with the rest of the request. Sorry if this got way too long but I got carried away and I just really enjoyed writing this. Ideas came and wrote those down. So I hope you all will enjoy this and enjoy reading

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Word Count: 2,762

On the road again, you thought while sitting in the back of the Impala.

Looking out the window, seeing the trees pass by at great speed is when you begin to feel sick.

“Dean, Dean. Pull over, Im going to be sick” you say rather quickly

With one quick stop, Dean pulls over to the side of the road and puts baby in park

“Geez, are you ok? You want some water? Mint? Mouth wash?” Sam asks as he rushes to your side.

“Mouth wash?” you reply while Sam runs back to the car and searches his bag for his mouth wash.

“Feeling a little hungover? Or just sick, sick?” Dean asks as he comes check on you as well

“A little hungover” you lie to Dean while Dean goes back to the car and reaches for a beer.

He decides something a little stronger than beer.

He pulls out his flask and walks back to your side.

Sam notices how incredibly sickly looking you’ve become and begins to worry that you are coming down with something.

You knew you were coming down from your latest high, well more like from you latest fix and you needed another. Fast.

Dean hands you the flask and you greatly take it from his hands and drink the entire thing. The whisky made things a little more tolerable.

“Thanks man, I needed that” you tell him and walk slowly back to the car.

Dean and Sam looked to you and noticed how you were walking. Like as if you were in pain and cold. The weather was warm and a beautiful day really.

“Are you sure youre feeling ok?” Dean asks as soon as he gets into the car

“Yes, step on the gas. I wanna go home already” you irritatingly reply back.

Dean didnt like that, so he did what he was told and stepped on the gas to head back to the bunker.

Finally arriving.

You get out of the car as fast as you could and into the bunker. You ran all the way to your room and found your stash hidden in your room.

You felt as though you werent moving fast enough but you made it to your room.

Dean and Sam looked at you oddly as you ran fast into the bunker.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asks as he takes the stuff from the car and into the bunker.

“Maybe she needs the bathroom again” Sam replies following Dean.

“Hmm’ is all Dean says and goes to his room to put his things away.

Once you got the needle ready, you sat on the toilet and poked the needle into your favourite vain. You pulled back the syringe to draw blood is when you injected the stuff. Slowly

Once the stuff reached your body is when you started to forget about everything else. Your withdrawals, depression, everything. Numbing out everything perfectly.

Or so you thought.

You came out of your room to look for your brothers to hang out with or just to get them to stay away from your room anyway.

“Are you feeling a lot better?” Dean asks while turning away from his cooking

“Yes, I feel a lot better” you reply way to happy but oh well you replied anyway

“Ok then” Sam says while he adds more notes to the folders in front of him

He has been adding the men of letters archives, well the both of them have been doing that and they thought you were doing the same but you dont remember a thing from your last hunt.

All you thought about was how to get your next fix or even next high. Weed wasnt cutting it anymore ever since getting into the opiates.

Stupid for getting into those. Oh well choices were made and it makes the feelings go away.

As the days go by which weeks go by as well. Dean and Sam begin to notice how incredibly bad you got while hunting, sick, and more sicker.

After the sickness, you would be at your normal self and be the great hunter they knew you to be. But when the sickness came, it was as if they didnt know who you were. Didnt look like you or anything.

“Let me know when she goes out, ok?” Dean asks Sam as he watches you walk to your room

“Uh, ok. Why?” Sam asks not really sure if he wants to know the answer but he is curious to see what Dean is up to.

“I want to look through her room, I want to see if Im right about something. If not then I am going to feel like a complete dick about it later” Dean explains himself as he looks towards the hall.

“Right about what?” Sam asks looking out for you as well

He hears you coming out of your room and walk the hallway and waits for you to appear.

“Hey guys, Im going to head out for a bit and I will be home in an hour or something” you tell them and head out the door.

You didnt give them any time to say anything cause you needed to head out and look for the number one thing you have been needing. You needed your next high. You needed it bad.

“Ok, go” Sam says to Dean as he books it to your room

“What exactly are we looking for?” Sam asks as he digs through your stuf

“Needles or drugs” Dean replies as he sees a box in the bottom of the sink in your bathroom

Dean hoped it wouldn’t be the things he is looking for. Other wise all of you weird behaviour he has noticed for the past couple years would be more understandable now.

He has seen this type of addiction before in fellow hunter friends, their addiction to opiates and how they passed to overdosing.

He opens the box and sees his worst nightmare

“Sam” is all Dean could say and drops the box

Sam rushes to Dean’s side and sees what has fallen to the floor.

All the used needles, cotton balls and spoons. Along with the rubber bands. He also sees the unopened rigs.

“No” Is all Sam can say

He doesnt understand why you would want to inject anything into yourself with poison.

They get out of your roomand wait for you to come back to the bunker.

Dean has a few words for you.

Sam has a few questions for you.

They couldnt believe their baby sister would turn to drugs

Dean is beginning to understand the border line alcoholism but he always thought it was just something to help you sleep. He didnt think it was something to settle the withdrawals.

The next morning, Dean and Sam are still seated in the library waiting for you to walk through the doors. None of them moved from their seats, they stayed seated like that and waited for you. Dean was to heated to even move from his seat.

His anger turned to worry when you never showed. Until now, his nerves settled and now all he wants to do is hug you and lock you away. But he needed to say a few things first before he can do that.

As you come walking down the stairs and see your brothers in the library looking at you all tired looking. You were about to say something when you see a familiar box. Your heart begins to race.

“Morning guys, sorry I didnt come home last night and sorry I didnt call or anything” you say to break the ice but knew you should have said nothing and should have went straight to your room

“Y/n? What the hell is this crap?” Dean asks opening the box and pushing it towards you.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly because your brother has found your dirty secret. Your life long dirty secret.

“You went through my room?” you ask not even going to lie about the box they found.

What was the whole point in lying? They found it, they figured it out and you werent going to lie about it.

It was as if you secretly hoped they would find it, maybe them finding it would finally get you to stop and go to treatment.

“Of course we went through your room. We wanted to know what was making you feel so crappy and during hunts” Sam says next, he finally finds his voice.

“You found my dirty secret. Now what?” you ask as anger begins to form.

“Why? How long? This needs to stop now” Dean replies sternly, he didnt want to get too angry. Otherwise he would have ruined the whole plan he had.

“Or else what?” What are you going to do if I dont stop?”  you ask while looking to both of your brothers

They both went quiet, they didnt want to give any ultimatums cause they feared you would pick the poison over them and they knew you are going to pick that over them.

They wondered what they did wrong to make you turn to something else to numb out everything.

Sure Dean hasnt been the poster boy about opening up his feelings about anything and he feels he should have done that with you. At least.

Sam should have pestered you more about opening up. How he does with Dean, he should have done the same for you. He didnt and he feels ashamed.

“You know, I’ll make things easier for you” you break the silence and walk down the hall and into your room

“What do you mean make things easier for us?” Sam asks as he follows you down the hall

“Where the hell do you think your going?” Dean asks next following behind Sam

You grabbed what you could and what you thought was clean. At least it was warm clothing anything, it was beginning to get a bit nippy out there.

“Im leaving. That way I wont be such a burden to either of you anymore” you reply while walking back down the hall and up the round stairs

“Y/n, no. Stay here and we will help you” Sam pleads with you as he follows

“Y/N!! Stop” Dean raises his voice

“You arent a burden. Stay, so we can figure out how to help you and let us help you” Sam continues as he looks to you.

You are at the top of the stairs and finally with one final thought. You turned the door knob and walked out.

Dean runs up the stairs and tries to block you from going any where but he is too late. He ran out the door and you were gone. He yells for your name, looks around and continues to yell for you.

Nothing, it was as if you disappeared into thin air and he wondered where you went or what direction you took.

“Son of a bitch” Dean says as he looks around with both of hands behind his head.

Tears fill his eyes as a lone tear streams down his face. He falls to his knees, feeling defeated he let this happen. Defeated he let anything go this far and didnt notice anything to begin with.

Sam comes running to him and looks around as well.

“Sam, shes gone. I couldnt catch up to her. I let her go” Dean tries to keep his emotions together. But he releases a sob

“We’ll find her, someone has to see her and security cameras are every where and one of those ust of caught her” Sam says as he helps Dean to his feet.

Months went by, Dean and Sam never stopped searching for you. Drove from town to town, Dean always tracked better when he was on the road. But his leads always went cold. You knew better to go off track cause you knew he would track you.

Finally Dean’s phone begins to ring. He takes out his phone so fast and answered it like his life depended on it. In a way it did.

Dean talks on the phone for a long period of time and Sam is getting anxious. He doesnt what is going on or who is calling.

Finally Dean gets off the phone.

“Well who was that? What did they say? Say anything about y/n?” Sam asks way too quickly

Dean couldnt understand a word he said, all due to the phone call he just got and that shocked him more.

“That was Y/n’s doctor. She was admitted yesterday and he told me that they saved her from an overdose. That its their third time saving her from the overdose. Why they never called the first couple times was because she didnt list any family members as emergency contacts. Sam we got to go. We got to get our baby sister” Dean finally says and begins running to his room to begin packing.

Sam couldnt believe those words came out of Dean’s mouth. More like he couldnt believe you wouldnt add him or Dean as your emergency contact to begin with. Until now.

They drove for hours and hours.

As they stand at your door, they see you laying on your hospital bed, IV in one hand while the nasal cannula is inserted.

Your attention is brought to the door and you couldnt believe your brothers are standing right in front of you.

“Hi” you break the silence as the greeting came out a little raspy and small

Your brothers came further into the room.

Dean is the first one who hugs you.

“Hi, I missed you” as a tear streams down his face

He hold yous a little longer, feeling as though he is going to wake up and realize its all a dream and have to wake up to a bunker without you in it.

“I missed you so much” he says as he holds onto you a little longer and tighter.

He feels as though you were going to dissolve away if he let you go. Again

“What the hell happened?” he asks taking a seat by your bed side

“I chased and ended up here” you simply answer your brother.

Well you felt ashamed by answering him

“Your face” is all Dean could say

He sees the bruises on your face, the dark circles around your eyes and how sunken in your face is. He is thinking as if he is looking at your skull.

“Ooh, I owe money to my dealer and he made an example out of my face. A few times. So to medicate, I chased the high so much, that I practically chased myself in here” you reply to your brother and look around the room

“The only way for us to get you out of here is you go to treatment and get help. Dean and I were talking along the way and thats our ultimatums” Sam says while Dean looks to him in annoyance

Dean wanted some time with you before he sent you to treatment.

“Ok, ok. I will get the help. I will go to treatment, I wanna come home” you tell them as you begin to cry.

Sam is happy and hugs you. Tears stream down his face as a sigh of relief escapes his mouth

“Thats what I want, for you to come home and go get help. We want to be there for you. We love you” Dean says as he hugs you.

He felt relieved he heard those words coming out of your mouth, as if all of his stress has been removed and now he can finally settle his nerves. Kind of.

For them it was an eternity. Dean felt as though he was in hell all over again but this time felt longer.

Sam felt like he was in the cage all over again in trying to look for you. Or he felt as though he didnt have a soul. Having you around was better and you are Sam’s other half just like Dean is his other half.

When all three of you are together, its as though everyone feels complete but when separated, thats when everything crumbles.

You felt like you are getting your family back, after being away from your brothers for so long. Well more like after running from your problems and creating more. You really felt like you are getting them back and earning their trust.

You and your brother hunted like a family again. Better than ever.

[itsakpopalypse]

Jung  Yunho/U-Know (TVXQ)  Astrology- How he loves

A gift to a lovely friend (think late birthday gift) @zev-parrish​, i give you, your man. 

 As all astrology is meant to be fun, i will disclaim here that i cant find a birthtime, (as with most of these charts) so keep in mind not all of it will be right. this is for fun, please don’t at me lol

So, his chart is split pretty evenly between Aquarius and Sagittarius. 

both are “active” but he does have some Capricorn and Taurus to even this out some, and with a North node in Taurus he is the type to only practice deep and meaningful relationships, whether romantic of platonic

His Aquarius is Sun, Mercury, Venus, Jupiter. 

His Sagittarius is Mars, Saturn and Uranus.

His moon and Neptune is in Capricorn., taurus (rising) and North Node

So now to decode those placements and why they matter

All the Aquarius says to me that he is forward thinking, kind of out of the box but actually a lot more intellectual than he seems at first

probably a bit out of the box thinker, kind of “So I have this CRAZY idea” and it’s JUSt crazy enough to work

Aquarians put the greater good above self, so he likely has a strong moral code that he sticks to and will speak up if people violate the rights of others,

Aquarius in Mercury tells me he is a very enthusiastic speaker, a hand talker and quite charming,

his energy radiates out and draws people in

between the sag and aquarius it’s likely he doesn’t force anyone to listen or follow, he just exists, and people are drawn in by this strong sense of self he carries. 

his spirit is likely an oasis for people

like you just know that you can be yourself because he is so nonjudgmental and thoughtful 

Aquarius Venus means he’s big on boundaries, he respects everyone, their right to their own time, and prefers things to fall into place.

in relationships, he is not the type to force time together, or demand a lot, but if time is given he will treasure that, understanding how important someone’s choice to spend their time with him would be

Mars in Sagittarius says that he is PASSIONATE and DRIVEN

if he has a goal, he will figure out how to get to that, 

with the combination of that mars and cap moon, he probably refuses to lose when it comes to competition, 

lowkey has a bit of self doubt, the Capricorn moon indicates he isn’t always sure he’s worth praise or that he can do things,

but he also wont give up, especially if he feels like other people need him to keep going. 

gains strength from those around him, 

when he gains focus on something, just stand back and watch him go, because he will succeed. 

His sagittarius Uranus suggests he will challenge authority if he thinks it impedes the forward momentum of others

a champion of the underdogs, ready to stand up for those with less strength, even if he wouldn’t do it for himself. 

The combinations of Aquarius and Sagittarius he has makes me think he is just this pure ball of passion, 

so much to do , so much to learn, such strong opinions. 

He isn’t necessarily stubborn, at least not if he respects you, but he will hold very strong morals that he sees as non negotiable.

he prefers deep friendships that make him think,

someone who challenges his thinking and keeps him sharp

he would want someone he can have deep conversations with or at the drop of a hat decide on a random adventure 

think “It’s two am and there’s a meteor shower, come outside  I have blankets and a place to watch from.�� 

he’d already be outside with hot drinks and a treat, and a huge, unfathomably charming smile.  

In a relationship, this translates to the most easygoing slide into love

you’d just be the closest friends, never realizing that you were more until one day he turns to say some horrible joke and you have this oh shit moment

oh you’re in love

and he is too, and he already KNOWS you are, 

but seeing the revelation on your face would please him beyond words. 

 kind of like he was waiting for you to figure it out. 

he’d just slide an arm around you and kiss your forehead. 

seems the type to be affectionate in the most sugary sweet ways?

almost innocently 

brushing the hair from your face or tracing the tip of your nose with his finger

giggles and secretive smiles, the type to be so INNATELY PROUD that you are his,

i dont think he would be egotistical, or think much about his own looks or that of others

he is looking for a soul connection and yearns for that deep earth shattering closeness that doesn’t even need words

the type build over time and attention

probably pays close attention to your smallest concerns and wishes, 

secretly plans to make them all happen for you

would be so loyal and unshakably single minded in a relationship

it would be impossible to turn his head once his heart made a choice

people often think Aquarians fear  commitment but that’s not true, they just don’t want to commit until the strength of a bond is undeniable.

he wants to feel so understood by another that he knows that they are on his side no matter what. 

wow that’s soooooo

probably very into traditional cute relationship things. loves to savor the sweetness of new love. 

hand holding would probably make him  feel so ?? loved??

that would turn to longer embraces 

something tells me he’s the kiss the back of the hand type

that’s just a haunch. 

just so connected and  loyal, a wholesome lover.

18+ below, we gettin 

SP I C Y 

yikes, big YIKES

alright so HERE’S THE THING

Aquarians are very altruistic and compassionate in life.....

and very passionate and adventurous in bed...

Sagittarius are LIKEWISE very  up for anything

I don’t actually see him as particularly *dominant* or submissive

He just seems like a very sensual and high passion lover

what? Is? gentle?

this man is going to play with sensation and pressures in different ways

very giving, and very proud of what he can do

remember driven, competitive and caring?

that translates to varied and sometimes risky encounters

maybe public play?

“Let’s see how fast you fall apart for me before someone comes.”

and you’ll come before anyone else does, he will be sure of it,

Oh, you’re too loud?

the type to stick his finger in your mouth while he fucks you against a wall, maintaining eye contact with a smirk and a raised brow. 

 that’s.. oof

remember how his mercury is also Aquarius? and I said that means a good communicator?

that translates here too. 

praise kink probably goes both ways,

loves the sensuality of your words whispered into his skin just as much as he likes to do the same to you

to be honest Venusian Aquarius is the least jealous and most likely to be down for polyamory or just .. including someone else in play

he doesn’t feel insecure in these situations, as i stated if he is in a relationship he craves emotional intimacy and connection, so he already knows his worth and someone else being there sexually wouldn’t faze him

Sagittarius mars means he really likes to feel as much the center of your desire as you are his,

talk pretty to him and he will make you forget every name except his

the type to leave a trail of bites and kisses across your skin, blossoms of purple and blue that he takes pride in

not in a possessive way, in an intimate way that shows how you trust each other

also down to destroy your pelvis, 

probably likes to try new positions, 

almost definitely likes you on top where he can talk you through your movements and splay your hands on his chest, one controlling hand around your throat with just enough pressure to keep you from collapsing against him

just enough to  make you grind into him with desperation,

wanting to see you fall apart for him in the most beautiful way

alternates between deep gazes into your eyes as you call his name , intimate and so filled with love that he wants to immortalize the moment

....and the most rushed, passion induced “i have to have you now” fucks

dirty raw and emotional , he likely doesn’t have flings.

even the fastest most rushed encounter is so filled with what he carries in  his heart that you never doubt his devotion. 

Aftercare is probably giving you something to clean up with while he tucks you against his body and breathes in your scent, 

content to make you happy, content to feel you close

seems like a round two after a nap kinda guy, so I hope you have stamina 

just a really intimate lover that wants to feel you inside his heart while he’s inside you. 

a two hearts beat as one, sort of lover. 

I hope you liked it dear !!!

requests are currently closed while I catch up, but you can ask me if I have  a certain Idol on the list and I will let you know!

[spotsupstuff]

mmm if youre doing others' au characters, one of the iri au vessels of your pick? if not feel free to ignore this muah

-breaks fingies- gon go with shine cuz i feel like i know them best outta everyone of yo kids

Why I like them:

when i say ive laid awake in my bed just thinkin bout their design i mean it. i fuckin LOVE their design so much. theres just so much good about it and they are always a joy to draw. the horn design is super unique and ill be honest, it surprised me plenty when i saw it for the first time. i was skeptical about it for more than one reason but after first attempt at drawin them i fell in love. the cloak is incredibly aesthetically pleasing, design of the legs and tail is a joy to behold, the color palette is Absolutely Great because it just screams “this is ave!! aves design!!! theirs!!!!! its them!!!!!!” because them sunset colors are just your trademark. i am Very impressed with the choice to make the masks yellow tinted, like,,,, id be afraid to go that way if only because of the possible connections to radiance. i also ADORE their personality, they just carry this 17 year old awkward kid who also would tots rock somebody outta the dimension with fashion choices or just One Singular Look cuz the Bitch Just Exists Like That

Why I don’t:

their personality kinda hits close to home at times which makes me go -surprised pikachu face- and, even tho i really do understand, i wish theyd confront some things more head on

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

one of the asks you answered; the one with them n whisper sparring sometimes pops into my head to live rent free for like few hours. i love the picture you did, i love that they are Like That, i adore their fighting style and how fuckin dumb they can be about it sometimes

Favorite season/movie:

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck how do i answer this... i GUESS that brokenverse could count as a season or a movie. so far? ive enjoyed their presence in bverse a lot. from start to this day, they were incredibly interesting to see reacting to things around them. the way they popped into the world was Very pleasing and i am glad that i was there to witness both as a viewer and through broken. i am very fascinated with the relationships that form between them n the other bvs and cant wait what will happen with them and what u r plannin for them in the rps if u r!!

Favorite line:

"I didn't know blankets and pillows had such structural integrity." is a really fuckin good one

"Do you want me to tear my wings?? I've never been in a place like this! I don't know how to move around it!” it was interesting to see them blow up and break, it gave a lot of perspective on their character to me and make them feel... like more? it just unlocked more of perspective about them to me. made me think and consider.

Favorite outfit:

that fuckin... croptop hoodie... i know its not an entire outfit but i have Cried over it i just fucking adore it so much. show that nice belly to the world, dont be ashamed of your scars honey, you are doing SO WELL and u fuckin rock it

OTP:

nobody 😔 im p sure that they dont have romance on mind too much if not at all

Brotp:

i like what ive seen of them n whisper so far a lot 👀 but out of actual sib relationships, i kinda like them n lost interacting together? i know that theres a tension between them right now and theres a lot of reasons that they wont like each other, most likely, in the near future, but there was just... something about the whole scene after shine brought them back to the house. and that they didnt leave when lost reached out. they held them and for some reason that was really comforting to read. i believe that if the two will ever want to get over their problems with each other once, there could be something really beautiful and cozy between them

Head Canon:

i got Two:

1. the crystal protects them from bad dreams, if those are still a thing in your au. i think you already sorta established that it has to do somethin with the grimm troupe and i believe that the troupe is something of a repellent of dreams

2. when they lost their lowest pair of wings, it hindered their flight capabilities a lot. theyve struggled for a While, but figured out how to fly with just four. even after all the troubles, they are an amazing flyer, maybe as close as dragonflies are. they are fast, but need to work on steadiness during it. they know their limits and probably enjoy the rush of wind around them (i may be completely wrong with these tho)

Unpopular opinion:

i aint got one chief, i am of the sorry

A wish:

i want to know more about them, about their opinions on the world. about the crystal they wear, about the actions they think would be right. i want to know their weaknesses and faults, their strengths and successes. shine is incredibly interesting already and i cant wait to know more

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen:

i dont want them to ever die by someones hand. i want them to be as safe as possible. i dont want them to lose the innocence of being a living being without a death count

5 words to best describe them:

popular, special, careful, fancy,,,, afraid (to a degree)

My nickname for them:

štístko (little luck)

[scourgefrontiers]

Do you have advice on how to make a webcomic? : O

OOGH uhh im sure theres better ppl to ask but i’ll try my best to help a Little...this is just my process and experience so find what works for u

1) start with a script for sure.  id suggest finishing the entire script before starting anything else so u know what ur story is and u can plan accurately

2) do THUMBNAILS !!!  these are just small quick sketches of ur pages that allow you to plan out the panels/dialogue bubble placement/characters and stuff without having to commit to a big full page!  these can be as simple as u like as long as u can understand them.  i like to thumbnail an entire chapter at a time before moving on to the final pages

3) when doing final pages thumbnails are helpful b/c u can just copy/paste them and blow them up to fit the page so u have a base sketch that u can sketch over :3 i recommend making buffer pages which are just pages to have ahead of time so u dont have to rush to draw pages before every posting day!  i like to start with ten buffer pages before i start posting either once or twice a week depending on how fast i think i can make new pages.  right now i have...over 40 buffer pages LOL.  so im way far ahead and dont need to rush at all!

theres tutorials and advice for how to panel and use dialogue bubbles well but im not confident/educated enough with the subject to help there JAKLDSF but i hope i gave a little insight i guess ??

[lizzieraindrops]

Your chance to make the sun rise thrice (Chapter 2)

a river that still runs (8803 words)

Beth Childs has come to Helsinki to meet her best friend Veera for the first time in the Herbs on the windowsill universe, an alternate timeline where the original Helsinki massacre was prevented and DYAD routed by Clone Club Alpha’s successful publicity stunt back in 2001. Veera Suominen and Niki Lintula survived and decided to live in a little apartment together as qpp’s. Numerous Leda clones worldwide are now in contact via a secure online network that Veera maintains. 

Note: This chapter is a bit heavier than the rest of the AU. Beth is still struggling with a lot of the same challenges in this universe, even if the events causing them are somewhat different because of such early canon divergence. But the whole point of this story is that things can end up okay no matter how rough it's been. She's getting the help she needs and she's gonna be alright. That said, warning for soft discussion of past abuse, the effects of trauma, depression and anxiety, and some suicidal ideation. And of course, lots of love and learning how to heal, with support from her best friend.

Fun fact: Veera's username is 3mika, and she always sets her font to the precise warm turquoise of hex color #2299aa. She thinks she's hilarious, and she's right. 

Also on AO3  |  Playlist  |  Aesthetic sideblog

Part 1: Herbs on the windowsill

Part 2: Someday colors

Part 3: Your chance to make the sun rise thrice  |  Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3

***

Beth wakes on a squashy couch that isn't hers. Morning-soft sunlight pours through the window above her, bouncing back off the walls to fill even the shady corners with a warm secondhand glow. Her limbs are soft, splayed under unfamiliar blankets and sinking into the cushions. She doesn't move yet.

The apartment. Helsinki. Beth's really here. She holds herself still, letting the truth sink into her. She half expects the usual anxious tension to clench her into a ball the instant she moves a muscle, but it isn't there. Neither is the invisible weight that so often pins her immobile. She still wakes frequently with both of them holding her body hostage, keeping her muscles unmoving but restless, even in sleep. Right now though, they're gone. She just lies there, soft beneath the window.

It's quiet but not silent. The occasional car on the little road outside chuckles as it passes. A soft rush of water echoes through pipes in the walls, running toward an early riser in another unit. These sounds fall strangely on Beth's Toronto-bred ears, isolated in the stillness of this of this little apartment on the outskirts of the city. Still, the early-morning atmosphere settles comfortably into her jet-lagged bones, murmuring a rhythm for her to sink into. The temporal upheaval of a transcontinental red-eye and a series of exhausted naps yesterday have left her a little unbalanced. And yet, here she is waking up with the day, and the ground under her feels so much more stable than she’s used to.

Beth breaks her stillness with a deep, deep breath that she can feel expanding all the way down to her feet. She stretches, too, but soon pulls the toes that get exposed back underneath the warm, scratchy blanket. The cushions of the old couch creak a little in complaint as she shifts, but her limbs remain supple. For a time, she just observes the sensations. Then, her awareness spreads beyond the couch and the window to the rest of the room.

All around her, an oddly blocky pattern covers the walls. It's one of the first things she noticed when she walked into the apartment yesterday afternoon. The pattern isn't wallpaper like it appears at first glance, but actually a multitude of small photographs. Most of them are unframed, but taped up in crisply aligned rows. In them, she sees the same face infused with a hundred different lives. Just above her, a sleeping, slack-jawed redhead with bulky headphones around her neck sprawls on the very same couch Beth's laying on now. A few rows down, a brunette and a blonde with their long hair in matching wild waves are leaning all over each other and grinning like devils. One of the few framed photos shows a girl with a hospital-short buzz cut and a delighted expression, sitting in front of what looks like a mouthwatering strawberry shortcake. Beth can see at least six others in the background behind strawberry girl. Among them are Mika with her unmistakable scars and Niki with her bright blonde hair, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Morning light glances off the glossy surfaces of the photos on the west wall. The particularly bright reflection off one of the framed photos draws Beth's eye. With a tiny jolt, Beth recognizes one of her own selfies beneath the glass. In it, she's wearing the same old turquoise blue sweatshirt that's spilling out of her suitcase next to the couch right now. Underneath it, she's wearing her track gear, so the photo is at least two years old. She'd had to quit cross-country so she could try to get the shitshow her life had become under control. She vaguely recalls sending it to Mika a long time ago. It's strange to think that her presence has been in this apartment for so long.

She's here. In Finland. Staying with Mika – Mika - and Niki. Far, far away from everything.

Sprawling on the couch she slept on with a sigh as if she hadn’t a care in the world, Beth can't believe she's really gone and done it. She's run so far away that there's an ocean between her and her problems. It’s so much better than she's dreamed, even if it's only for a little while. It’s worth it, even though she'll be going back far too soon. For the first time in years, it feels like she’s where she’s supposed to be right now.

It had all started out as foolish idea she'd floated one Saturday morning, months ago. She hadn't been serious at all. She'd woken up so relieved at not having to get up and go to work, until she remembered her weekly therapy appointment with a hopeless groan.

Putting off the genuinely daunting prospect of hauling herself out of bed, she reached out to snag her phone from on top of her dresser, checking to see if she'd heard from Mika overnight. After all, Helsinki was nine hours ahead, so Mika had already seen most of the day that was just beginning for Beth. They talked so often these days, since they'd first made contact over two years ago. Rarely a day passed without touching base. But there wasn’t anything since Beth had checked last night. She took it upon herself to send the first message of the day.

runwaterblue: god, i dont wanna get up and deal with any of thsi shit today

After her world fell apart, after finding out about Project Leda, after realizing that all her nightmares and more were real, after her father...

runwaterblue: wish i could come visit u and get away form everything for awhile

Mika replied almost immediately.

3mika: you can

It was evening in her time zone, but to be honest, Beth had no idea if she had anything resembling a regular sleep schedule. The girl was always online.

3mika: though you really should go to your appointment. you always feel better afterward

runwaterblue: howd you know i have therapy today

3mika: you always have an appointment saturday afternoons

runwaterblue: yes but how do you remember that? i cant evne remember my own appts lmao

3mika: you mentioned it months ago when you switched from sundays to saturdays

Beth shook her head with a smile. Mika was so good with details.

3mika: anyway. you’re welcome here, if you can get here

3mika:  it would be great to see you

3mika: Niki wouldn't mind. we've had a bunch of Ledas visit us here, it's always fun

3mika: except that one time Dani and Ary got into a fight over football. some French-Italian team rivalry thing. that was not fun.

Beth laughed. It was funny how Mika was so good at making her do that, even on days like these. She leaned back against her pillow and held her phone over her head without sitting up, being careful not to drop it on her own face. She'd done that before. More times than she'd admit.

runwaterblue: i was kidding. id love to visit, but idk how id get there

runwaterblue: u should see the americans go off abt their football lmao. they're nerly as bad as the hockey freaks here

3mika: pls no

3mika: no more sports. it was a year ago and I’m still exhausted

3mika: sports are banned in this apartment.

Beth snorted. Mika wanted nothing to do with sports of any kind, and with Beth's athletic record, the topic had become a point of mutual teasing between them.

In so many ways, they were such different people, DNA be damned. Mika was reticent where Beth was outgoing. (Or at least, Beth had been. She was never quite sure how to think of herself these days.) Clone drama aside, Beth had been a pretty average Canadian high schooler. She got reasonable grades, played a few sports, and kept mostly out of trouble because there would be hell to pay if she didn’t. Mika was a brilliant homeschooled autistic orphan who had been raised in near isolation by her guardian after surviving the hospital fire that marked her skin for life. Beth mostly listened to pop music, and where no one else could hear, the occasional classical symphony. Mika held fast to Finland's weird obsession with death metal and dabbled in literally everything else.

And yet, Mika understands Beth like no one else does. And it's not just because they've both been through all this Project Leda bullshit. Though Beth doesn't know what she would have done without Mika to help her through that, too.

Beth won't ever be able to forget the moment that everything changed. Recognizing a her own face from the mirror on the evening news stopped her in her tracks, as something in her gut caved in with the hollow certainty that it wasn't her. Then face after face flickered before her, a flipbook barrage of déja vu. Blonde and smiling. Scarred and pensive. Braids and piercings and a rakish grin. Beth was rooted in place as people she had never been wearing things she had never worn said things she was never supposed to know.

That utter strangeness on the screen immediately seeped into her life like an oil slick into a river, tainting every thing she thought she knew with clinging uncertainty. Her father was inexplicably even more upset about it than Beth was, yet adamant that they shouldn't look into the matter. But it was already too late to stop herself from thinking. With slow horror, the truth of what exactly his behavior must mean dawned on her. And yet, even with the desperate growing certainty about who her Leda monitor must be, it was hard to believe that he could be anything other than her plain stern father.

He was always a bit strict and overprotective - probably well more than a bit, she realizes these days. But she’d thought that's just what it was like to be a cop's daughter. He'd never done anything really extreme, nothing beyond the firm discipline any kid could expect. He was just not a man to be trifled with, that was all. So until everything she thought she knew shifted that day and threatened to topple every assumption she’d built her life on, she had never truly dared to cross him.

Outright daring him to say to her face that he wasn't her monitor was probably considered a step beyond trifling. He did not take it kindly.

Two months later, Beth and her mother were living in an apartment on the opposite side of the city. It took two months for the two of them to lay plans to leave together, for good. For two months, her every move was watched. She spent two months knowing there would be hell to pay if she didn't give the performance of a lifetime pretending everything was fine, even while sirens blared inside her day and night. Two months was more than enough to teach her things she never wanted to know about the hidden marks fear leaves on the body.

Even after she finally escaped, her life was in tatters and nothing made sense. It wasn’t just the sudden jarring discovery of Project Leda, or the crisis it had forced her to confront. It was learning that, deep down, she had known that she’d never once felt free. She’d unconsciously kept herself from knowing to avoid exactly that conflict of wills that she’d known she would lose.

Trying to come to terms with what had happened and how it changed everything, Beth was continuously losing her balance. Questioning which parts of her life had been screwed over by her father and which by being part of some ridiculous supervillain science experiment was like trying to stand on two kickboards in a pool. She couldn't find her footing, and all she could do was try and stay afloat. She had to repeat her whole junior year of high school that she lost to this shitshow, while starting over at a new school, and only barely scraped her way into senior year. Now that she knew how honestly terrible she'd been at judging who in her life she could trust, it was as hard to talk to old friends as it was to make new ones.

Therapy helped her start sorting out what she was feeling, and how the environment she’d grown up in was really not the healthiest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d learned to doubt her own perceptions. That made constructing any kind of new understanding of her situation an uphill struggle. And of course, her therapist couldn’t help her confirm anything about a human experiment that was so illegal it had been an international secret. As she continued to stumble forward, Beth even started doubting her former certainty of the identity of her Leda monitor. She questioned herself and everything she knew until she wanted to scream with frustration or weep with confusion. The floor of the counselor’s office could have been mopped with her tears. It was, quite literally, driving her mad.

So, finally, Beth had taken up the invitation on the banner of every Leda news feature to "Contact the secure, clone-run Clone Youth Group Network (CYGNet) for answers by emailing info@cygnet.org."

She wanted something concrete that would help convince her brain to stop reenacting these head games that warped her reality. It still insisted on playing through the patterns it had been taught, even in its teacher’s absence. She needed something that could brace her against the ideas that she was really just paranoid, overreacting, accusing, that this was all her fault for making a big deal out of nothing. Even with his other faults (cruelties, her mind whispered) aside, at least his involvement with Project Leda was unforgivable, and she wanted proof of it. Maybe if she had that, she could stop being mad at herself for not wanting to forgive. And if anyone had that proof, CYGNet would.

Maybe it was just because of the sheer blunt honesty about her motives, or the inescapable vulnerability of the message Beth sent, but Mika had replied to her within a day. And she'd been so gentle about it, too, enough to make Beth later question where the stereotype of autistic brashness came from. Then again, over email, Mika had all the time she needed to compose her thoughts and lay them out as softly as she wanted. She didn't have to spit them out as fast as she could to keep pace with a quick and painfully overwhelming world.

Hi Beth Childs,

I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. I still don't know how they got away with doing things like this for so long. I suppose people will always find ways to be cruel. But we've survived this long, and the whole point of CYGNet is to help us all heal. The experimental network has been dismantled, and we are assembling resources to help us. We've brought mental health professionals on to the project to develop custom programs for our needs. We can make them available to you, if you are interested.

I attached scans of some of your files that we recovered from DYAD. There are a few case reports with the signature of the person you asked about, spaced throughout your lifetime. There are also financial records with his name in the list of paid employees. He was without a doubt part of the Leda monitor program. I can provide all of the documentation that we have related to you, if you like, but I thought that would be too much all at once. I know these are hard to look at, but I hope they help let your mind rest. They are very real, and every awful thing we have experienced was also real, no matter how they tried to convince everyone that we were making it all up.

Please take your time with these, and stay in contact if you want to. You can join our mailing list, if you want to know when we have new information or new resources available. We're here for you.

And hey, if you just want to talk to someone who knows what it's like to deal with all of this, I'm here, too. You can reach my personal inbox or IM me at wiz.of.dos@cygnet.org. It'll be okay.

-Veera

Beth had started crying before she even finished reading the letter, much less opened the attachments. She cried so often these days. She only knew why half the time. But this time, it felt like the tears were extracting some of her pain as they left her, instead of just overflowing from the unending wellspring of her directionless distress. All of this was real, and someone else knew it.

Though she was grateful beyond measure for her mother’s untiring support, they were each other’s too-close, ever-present reminders of what they’d survived, trying to act like they weren’t, trying to convince each other and themselves that they were okay. Beth had needed something else, too, something until now unnamed.

This was a handhold, a backstop Beth didn't know she'd been desperate to find. It wasn't just the confirmation of what she’d concluded about her father. The ability speak plainly to someone she didn't feel the need to pretend around was an exhale of a breath held too long. At least one person in the world not only understood, but really and truly didn't want or expect her to act like any of this was normal or okay, or that she would ever be the same again.

Veera – or Mika, as she often went by online – made good on her offer of a sympathetic ear. Their correspondence started off with awkward, grammatically correct messages about the less painful details of their lives. Mika told her about the farmer’s market three blocks away where she went walking early in the morning before it got busy, and the plant stand there that her best friend and roommate Niki (also a Leda) had to ask her to stop buying so many succulents from.

At first, Beth tried to chatter like she used to, but there were no safe subjects. What had happened had touched all of her life. Normally, she’d talk about school, or sports, or her friends. But she was trying to start all over again at a new school with all the struggles that came with it. She didn’t have the time or energy for sports anymore, and talking about them hurt, now. Running used to make her heart sing. But no matter how she tried, there was no joy in the motion anymore. To top it all off, it was as hard to connect with old friends from her old life as it was to try and make new ones. She spent most interactions either doubting her own character judgement or dreading the moment people recognized her Leda face from the news.

She didn’t know how to talk about any of it to anyone. Maybe she could have if it had been just the clone thing or just the dad thing. But the two were inextricably entangled, and she still couldn’t even explain it to herself. It was all unbelievably horrifying, and any time she tried to be honest about it, people ended up disbelieving or horrified. Shocker.

Maybe, though, it wouldn’t be weird to talk about it with Mika. Mika already knew the worst. Beth didn’t have to hide that hurt from her to keep from shaking her world, or to keep her dismissal from hurting Beth. Maybe that’s what was hurting the most: the feeling that even after escaping, she still had to pretend to be okay. That compulsive stifling feeling choked her whenever it bubbled back up. On her bad days, a simple “how are you?” could reduce her to a blank face plastered over a raw tangle of emotions held motionless her own iron grip.

But Mika mentioned having bad days, too. Days came where she was too scared and nightmare-weary to do anything but make herself some tea and soak up some sunlight in the safety of home. Beth could casually say things like after those two months, i still twitch every time i hear a door open, and i wish my body would quit feeling like it doesn’t exist, my legs feel numb. It barely broke the surface of what it was like in her head, but was discomfiting enough for people that she held her tongue at school.

Sometimes, Beth got tired of constantly thinking about all this shit and tried to lighten things up. On one comically disastrous occasion of cultural exchange, she liveblogged Mika her attempt at eating the infamous Scandinavian lutefisk, along with an audio recording of the incoherent horrified noises she made after tasting it. In return, she received a recording of someone, presumably Mika, laughing harder than she’d ever heard anyone laugh before. It made Beth smile. Not many things did, back then.

Slowly, as the formality fell away from their transcontinental conversations, their heavier stories seething below the surface seeped in. Beth had been in therapy long enough now to know that she couldn't just recklessly unload on people the way she did in counseling sessions. But a counselor couldn't always provide the same kind of unspoken solidarity that someone in the same boat could.

Bit by bit, slipped into the chats that were becoming a daily occurrence, they talked about monitors, about what the experiment had really all been for, why that both was and wasn’t important, and how they'd discovered they were a part of Project Leda. Putting words to the pain hurt, a lot. But the ability to lay out long-unspoken truths in front of each other, knowing they were believed in the way that only people who have shared something can, was a healing kind of pain instead of the festering one Beth had been living with.

The two of them had more in common than they'd thought, growing up a world apart. Beth's experience raised under the subconscious wariness of her father's hovering thumb felt a lot like what Mika described growing up largely isolated with her former guardian. But sometimes, whenever they realized that something they'd both thought was normal was pretty not, they got a good laugh out of it despite the weight of their pasts. Mika seemed somewhat accustomed to her normal being considered pretty weird, so she usually took the revelations in stride better than Beth did. Beth wouldn't find out for at least a year after meeting her that it was because of her Asperger's, since it was a topic Mika seemed quite sensitive about.

Mika explained it once, in a conversation full of long pauses on her part and watching the typing icon disappear and reappear on Beth’s. The way she put it, it just meant that her brain worked a bit differently than most people's, processing sounds and sights and all the information it took in at different speeds and with different emphases. The difference could turn everyday things like the sound of a refrigerator running into a splitting headache, or something as simple as the soft texture of her favorite jacket into a kind of bliss. That alternative way of processing also extended to things like words and emotions as well. Sometimes, it took her longer than the world was willing to wait to process them into something that made sense. It often made communication tricky, trying to compensate for the gap in mutual understanding with most people. The world and the people in it could be so overwhelming sometimes, so fast and bright and full of noise and uncertainty and bewilderingly arbitrary social conventions. But the biggest challenge was other people expecting her to do everything the same way they did, ignorant of the fact there were any ways to exist other than their own, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was already putting in at least twice as much effort to communicate with them as they were with her.

And yet, even coming from such a different perspective, Mika gets it. Beth says sometimes i dream of drowning and its not a nightmare and i wake up not knowing how to feel, and Mika says I still dream of burning and wake up not knowing which fires are real, and they both say yeah. And they sit there across the world from each other knowing these things, knowing that it doesn't fix anything. And yet, it does change something. Nothing's any better, really. But somehow, the knowledge that someone else understands makes it a little easier to bear.

And that's just it. Somehow, without ever even having seen her face, Mika sees Beth clearer than anyone. All of her, all the ugly parts she hides so that they can't hurt anyone, and all the good parts that she also hides so that nobody can hurt them or take them away from her. Mika sees all of that and then just tells Beth another story about the Northern Lights she sees on the regular. Apparently, in Finnish, they’re called "fox fires." Beth hardly ever sees the aurora, living relatively far south in a bright city. But her stories about life in the metropolis by the lake intrigue Mika as much as the tales of the twisting green lights do her. And Beth can talk about something lighter again while not having to pretend that the heaviness isn’t there, too, even while she’s just once more trying and failing to explain poutine. For her, the weight never really goes away. But the effort of pretending she’s not carrying it takes more out of her than the weight itself. Mika understands that.

Maybe that’s why Beth had talked it over with Mika first, even before her mom, when she was considering taking a gap year after she hopefully managed to finish her senior year of high school. (God, it was so hard to think about English or math or whatever when just that morning she’d woken from a nightmare about being back in a not-home house that she never escaped.) Beth's mom had been so unbelievably supportive of Beth's recovery, even while she herself was adjusting to the wrenching change in both of their lives. It was both inspiring and a little intimidating. If her mom managed to run a household and raise a daughter all on her own, even while trying to heal from her own trauma, how could Beth not do her utmost, too? She was grateful to be able to talk to Mika about it, to get a reality check from someone who both understood her situation intimately and didn't make Beth feel that pressure of expectation. In the end, Beth did decide to take a year or two off before considering college, and her mom was again nothing if not supportive. Beth figured, after this entire mess, she deserved some time to herself to work on sorting her shit out, and her mom agreed.

After graduating with reasonable if not flying colors, Beth worked a series of part-time and odd jobs that didn't stress her out too much, letting herself focus on her own healing. In between her mom's support, seeing a counselor regularly, and the security of having a friend she could really trust, Beth felt like she was making progress. Slow progress, sure, but progress, nonetheless. Considering that she had seventeen years' worth of lies to unbelieve and emotional trauma to finally acknowledge, Beth figured that there was only so much she could do in the three years she'd had.

Her days were still hard. Getting sleep and waking up and eating and even just existing were still so fucking hard sometimes, and it was horrible. Some days, the thinnest sheet trapped her in bed like it was a car pinning her down. It felt so stupid for such simple things to be so hard. But then her therapist would remind her that that’s what mental illness and trauma was, that this was what the wounds in her mind and heart made her feel like. And once in awhile, sun broke through the shadows, and she had a day that reminded her what an okay day felt like – that okay days existed. That more might.

Now, she’s here, lying in a bright living room so far from home, with her dearest friend in the next room. She’s comfortable, except for the knot in her neck from sleeping oddly on the couch. The soreness pales in comparison to the usual tensions that are so strangely absent. Beth can’t remember the last time she felt this okay. She’s not steeling herself to go to work. She’s not dreading the next conversation with her mother that goes quiet as they both remember awful things they don’t mention. She’s not bracing herself for the next time her brain runs rampant worrying about whether she’ll run into the subject of her restraining order somewhere in the city and have to wonder if he'll honor it.

None of that reaches her here. There’s something about this quiet little pocket of space. It’s overrun with a proliferation of potted plants, from the sprawling lacy-leafed monster in the corner, to the fern peeping out of the kitchen, to the vine cuttings spilling out of an oddly familiar leaf-shaped glass bottle on the sill. Sunlight streaks through leaves and windowpanes and across the colorful patchwork of rugs on the floor. In the midst of it all, Beth is held by a palpable aura of gentleness. It holds her so softly that she doesn't need to hold herself in. It's like the layer of caution that she always keeps wrapped between herself and the rest of the world has simply dissolved away. In this moment suspended in morning light, she is okay.

She feels safe.

The realization undoes something in her. She feels the tears starting, and she expects the taut tension of involuntary stifling that always comes with them to return. But it doesn’t. She lies still and soft on the couch with the water creeping over her cheeks, breath occasionally catching but flowing freely. She savors it in the quiet.

The soft thunk of an ill-fitted door opening breaks into her odd reverie. Mika’s up. Beth sniffs and scrubs at her eyes halfheartedly, but she can’t hide them right now and she doesn’t want to. Mika notices immediately, and comes trotting over with quiet steps, leaning forward all concern.

"Beth," she says softly. She shifts from foot to foot like a nervous cat, watching Beth with enormous eyes. Beth has never met anyone else with such an intense stare. Or maybe it's just the fact that Beth knows beyond all doubt that she's being looked at by somebody who really sees her in her entirety. It's like she's staring right into Beth's soul. But Mika was able to do that long before they saw each others' faces. They've shared so many thousands of words over screens and seas, so many emotions that have gone otherwise unspoken, so many too-early mornings and too-late nights on the fringes of each other's dawns and dusks.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, a flash of that sick tension runs through Beth’s body. It’s been okay when Mika has asked that before, when it was just silent letters on a screen. But out loud, the question falls on her ears like every well-meaning inquiry she’s ever had to scramble to find an acceptable answer for. The strain begins to cinch tight around her again like coarse ropes across barely-healed skin, ready to compel her to replace the truth with something safer. Her arms and legs tied, she begins to freeze, railing against herself for tainting the softness, the safety of this place.

"Beth." Mika says again, softer but more urgent.

In the gap between thoughts created by hearing her name, Beth seizes the chance to redirect them to the present. She clings to the welling in the corners of her eyes, the warmth of the sun caressing her back. The leaves of trees whisper outside the third-floor window in a mild breeze. The brightness spills over the sill and across Mika’s asymmetrical, half-craggy face and lights up tufts of her short hair as she steps closer. The couch dips as Mika sits down next to her, tilting Beth toward her.

Without meeting her eyes, Mika lifts a hesitant hand that hovers in the air between them, uncertain yet reaching. Her gentle palm falls onto Beth's forearm as softly as a floating leaf. The fingers curl around Beth’s arm just below the wrist, firm but not tight. Comforting.

The softness surrounding Beth seeps back into her, saturating her. As the memory fades like a ripple into water, the tension slackens. But it leaves her shaky, with traces of a familiar ache in her neck muscles, one that goes deeper than the simple stiffness from the couch. She sucks in a few unsteady breaths while Mika gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” Beth says in a small, awkward voice.

Mika tilts her head. “Why?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to bring all – this mess, in here.” Beth rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. “It’s so... soft, and okay, and – I don’t wanna ruin it,” she says, trailing off into a mumble.

“Hey.” Mika moves her hand from Beth’s arm to her shoulder. When Beth looks at her, she’s looking right back. Mika's eyes dart down to the floor for a moment, but then return to hold Beth’s with deliberate steadiness. “It’s alright. It’s like this here because we wanted it to be safe to be messy. You’re not ruining anything.”

“... Oh.” She’s steadied by Mika’s fingers curling around her shoulder, by the tendrils of sunlight spreading across her head and back and arms. Mika’s voice is small but steady, and somehow it comes from the same throat that makes that huge pealing laugh. It’s so strange how they sound nothing alike. Until yesterday, Beth hadn’t heard her voice since the lutefisk incident. They’d mostly kept to text and pictures. It had seemed easier, the way it gave them both plenty time to think before they spoke through their different uncertainties. Beth was already planning her trip before they realized that they’d never actually called each other. By that point, it sounded like more fun to meet in person the old-fashioned way.

"I'll make you some tea." Mika abruptly stands and lets go of her. Beth is sad to lose the contact. She flits across the room toward the kitchen in her soft cotton pajama pants, complemented by yet another black graphic tee for yet another Scandinavian metal band Beth's never heard of. Or at least, she'd never heard of them before Mika, who has something to say about all of them, and now Beth knows more than she'll ever need to.

Mika moves in and out of view behind the half-wall that separates the little living room from the kitchen. The fronds of the fern on the counter make a green rustling as she brushes by them. It sends soft feathered shadows waving across the wall opposite the window. Beth hears the rush of water boiling out of sight, and soon sees steam rising from the mug that's being handed to her.

"It's hot," Mika says unnecessarily. She sits down next to her again, this time leaning into Beth with her arm. Beth’s glad for it.

"Have you ditched the bags and gone loose leaf?" Beth says, eyeing the fragments of bright green leaf free floating in her mug.

"It didn't come in a bag. It came from the window."

"The window?"

"It's basil tea. For the fear and pain. Five large fresh leaves in two hundred and fifty milliliters water. We grew it here."

Beth takes a cautious sip. It's surprisingly sweet, and the savory smell of the steam rising from it curls into her sinuses. The aching in her head and neck begin to relax. It's unfamiliar, but it feels like home should, just like everything else here.

"Thanks," Beth says. On an impulse of craving closeness, she leans her head onto Mika's shoulder with a sigh. The sensation of contact deepens as Mika leans against her, too.

Beth holds the cup close, fingers wrapping around its warmth. She takes another sip and gets a bit of leaf stuck in her teeth. The way she scrunches up her face trying to dislodge it pulls a tiny laugh out of Mika.

“You don’t have to be okay here,” Mika whispers. “You can just be. That’s what we do.”

Beth finds her eyes wet again, but she smiles while she sets her mug down and wipes them away. “Kinda already wish I could stay here,” she says with a chuckle.

“... That’s probably not impossible.”

“Really?” Beth asks wryly. “Not even twenty-four hours, and you’d already be willing to put up with me?”

“Twenty-four hours and twenty-seven months.”

Beth melts a little even while waving the idea aside. “I wasn’t serious.”

“I know, but... weren’t you looking at the school here?”

“I mean, yeah, but... really, my mom just thought I deserved a break to get away for a little while. She’d saved up a bit, and I didn’t want to make it a big deal or anything, but she really wanted me to. She knew I wanted to come see you. Checking out the school was mostly an excuse. I know it’s a great place, but... I don’t really think it’ll help with what I wanna do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Beth sighs and leans back, looking at the ceiling. Mika follows her so that they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and pulls her feet up to tuck them in cross-legged.

She flounders for a moment, trying to find where to begin. She hasn’t told anyone this yet.

“This Leda crap has been kind of awful, right? It’s screwed so many of us up. But there’s only, what, a few hundred of us? And that’s not the only reason things get messed up.” She swallows. Her eyes trace irregularities in the ceiling: a knot in an exposed wooden beam here, a sealed and repainted crack there. “Kids like me are a dime a dozen. There’s so many people out there going through hell, just because they got stuck with people who are hurting so much that they hurt other people. And then they go on and hurt more people. It’s a cycle that’s really fucking hard to break.”

Breaths that have become harsh force her to pause and let them lengthen again. A touch on her knee draws her eyes down to a hand resting on it palm up, offering. Beth takes it. Mika squeezes her fingers in reassurance.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a cop like my dad, did you know that?” Mika, eyes wide, shakes her head. “Yeah. That was always my plan. I used to think he was so brave. Wanted to be just like him.” She shudders. Mika grips her hand, steady. “Even if I could do it better than he did, the system is still full of people like him. It’s broken. I couldn’t – I can’t end up like that. I can’t keep being a part of this shit. I want to actually help people.

“I never thought about it before I met you, but the people you brought in to do therapy programs and all for CYGNet? They’re amazing. The stuff I’ve gotten from them has helped me so much. And I don’t know what I’d do without my regular therapist. These people really help people like me. Like all of us. Those are the kind of people I wanna be like.”

Beth’s voice drops and becomes small and secretive, but firm. “I’ve been looking at the social work programs at home. There’s some really good ones at the uni near where mom and I live now. And that’s the city where I grew up. I know how things work there. I know it won’t be easy, but. I could really... do stuff.”

Silence stretches. Beth looks at Mika, only to be completely thrown off by an expression she can’t make heads or tails of. “What?”

Mika’s face is blank yet soft, only barely hinting at her thoughts in the faintest crinkling of her eyes. It’s funny, how quiet her face is most of the time. Beth never would have guessed, going off her online impressions of her. Mika’s so expressive and eloquent with her written words. In person, she is much more subtle. But even after only a day spent around her, Beth is already starting to see how her movements speak volumes in a language of their own. The flickering of her hands flares to life with excitement. The casual shake of her head tosses her hair out of her eyes even when it’s not in the way, like she’s clearing the slate of her mind. And much like Beth these days, she goes very still and tense when she’s getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed, the way she did after a particularly loud whistle at the train station. It shows in her shoulders. They’re soft now though, and she just watches Beth and squeezes her hand once more.

“You’re really amazing, you know,” Mika says.

“Wh- huh?”

“Well.” She looks away and turns their hands over, but doesn’t let go. “After the awful things you’ve been through – nnnh! Don’t pretend,” she says, looking back sharply as Beth begins to protest that she didn’t have it that bad. Mika knows her so well. Beth can’t help but laugh a little. “After all that, you just want to help people. All I ever want to do is get away from them, most of the time.”

Beth quirks a brow at her with a bemused grin. “Really? Because setting up and running an organization that provides mental health resources and extremely important information to a few hundred people is a really shit way to not help people.”

“I never talk to most of them! And CYGNet only has one hundred and thirteen members, not hundreds.”

Beth rolls her eyes with an exaggerated motion. “Yeah, so, you’ve somehow convinced, what, a whole freaking third of a huge group of scared strangers to trust you?”

“A lot of that was Niki and the press team, she’s way better at talking to people th–”

“And you’ve been careful enough and clever enough to keep them and all the information you got from DYAD safe and secure? I can’t even imagine the organization and, and cyber-security and whatever the hell else you put into all this. That you still put in. And look what you’ve done. You’re helping so many people. You found something only you could do, and do it really damn well.”

Mika looks down into her lap, half her face flushed. The raised ridges and swirls of the scarred side are pink, but not as dark. Her shoulders curl in a little, but she doesn’t pull her hand away from Beth’s. If anything, she holds on a little tighter.

“You don’t have to like talking to people to help them. You don’t have to be someone you’re not,” Beth says gently, then pauses as a new thought occurs to her. “Why did you talk to me?”

Mika gives a tiny shrug, eyes still downcast. “You reached out to me. Most people are scared, or suspicious, or hard to talk to, but you were just... honest. You told me exactly what you needed, even if that meant sharing your painful secrets with a stranger. I...” She trails off, looking toward the closed door of Niki’s bedroom. She blinks slowly.

“It reminded me of something Niki said a long time ago. When we first met. We didn’t trust each other at first. But when things got bad, we needed to, and she just... We’d only known each other for a day. She told me a true story that people had called her crazy for, and trusted me to believe her. And when I told her about... my Asperger’s, about being autistic, she just told me something about herself, too, another thing that a lot of people get cruel about when they know. This was back before she came out, too. She was hardly out to herself, then, really. But she told me anyway. ‘Secret for a secret,’ she said.”

“She’s really special to you.” It’s not a question. How could it be, with the sheer softness of love rounding out every syllable and making Mika melt into the couch and into Beth’s shoulder.

“She’s... yes. She’s my family.” Mika looks out the window, and the bright light dances over her nose. “I don’t remember ever having one.”

Beth slings an arm around Mika’s shoulders and smiles as she curls closer into Beth’s side. “Looks like you’re part of a pretty big one, now,” she says, waving a hand at the dozens of photos on the walls circling them.

“I guess so.”

“No need to guess. The evidence is right there. And I’m right here.”

Mika turns those huge eyes on her again. She’s done that multiple times now, even though Beth knows she rarely looks people in the eye. Eye contact is too much, most of the time. She describes it as too intense, too distracting, too intimate. Meeting those eyes – so like Beth’s own, but filled with such a different kind of light – Beth thinks she understands a glimmer of it. If every eye she met were as overwhelmingly expressive as Mika’s, Beth probably wouldn’t meet them all either. It keeps taking her by surprise, coming across their eloquence in an otherwise quiet face. Caught by that gaze, every emotion that lives in it touches Beth. Right now, it’s soft with adoration but shaded with a gradient of doubt. The width and depth of Mika’s eyes reveal a clear view of a vulnerable, aching, healing heart that spent eleven years starving for the love it needs and still hasn’t forgotten the famine.

It might be breaking Beth’s heart. No wonder Niki is always showering her with hugs and kind words and gentle hands on rounded shoulders. Maybe one of these days, Mika will have spent long enough finally getting to soak up all that affection that she won’t look at Beth like this when she says the simple truth.

“Hey. Here I am. Really.” Beth’s voice is a little choked up. She pulls Mika into a proper hug with both arms. Mika squeaks in surprise at being squeezed so emphatically, but returns it all the same. God, but she gives the best hugs of anyone Beth’s ever met. All contact and even, firm pressure and steadiness. “It’s so damn good to see you. I can’t believe you’re...” real, Beth thinks but doesn’t say. I can’t believe I didn’t imagine you. I can’t believe you’re just as kind as your words. I can’t believe how good it feels to be around you. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

Mika doesn’t say anything. For a moment, one of her hands leaves Beth’s back to fiddle with something, then comes back to give her a little squeeze that Beth returns.

Beth’s phone buzzes a notification behind her on the little glass-top table next to the couch. The table’s wooden base is a round blob carved into the shape of a very fluffy and very ugly sheep with curly horns. Beth’s arms loosen from their embrace as she turns to look at it, bemused. No one but Mika really messages her except for her mom. But if it’s morning here, it’s about time for bed at home. She checks it, just to be sure she’s okay.

But it’s not from her mom.

Mika reaches out to gently grasp her forearm again as Beth shoots her a quizzical look and opens the message.

3mika: I'm glad you're here.

Beth's heart quails.

To think, that her darker days might have kept her from ever being in this moment. Beth might never have gotten to this point, hurt but healing and here. Here, she's seven time zones and an ocean away from the cycle of pain she grew up in, barely aware she needed to escape. She might well feel safer right here in this crossroads of time and place than she has at any other in her entire life. It's a realization that's as humbling as it is nourishing.

Already, the distance this journey has taken her has given her so much perspective. She wasn’t sure, before, whether the work she’s been considering was just a response to what she’s been through – or just a way for the cycle to keep her within its spiral. But she’s seen what Mika can do, what Beth could do one day, if she keeps on.

It won’t be easy. She’ll go back, and deep-seated memories will try to drag her back into small dark places. But being here, even for only a few hours, has already changed her. She can change, and she can grow, and she is already tapping into new strengths that her past has yet to reckon with. She is here, right now, in spite of all of it. And today is not a dark day.

“Me too, Mika. I’m glad to be here, too.” Beth’s tongue stumbles over the name, because she’s never said it out loud before, only read it on a screen.

Surprise sends Mika’s eyebrows up and her eyes wide again, like she’s never heard it before, either. Maybe she hasn’t. She tilts her head again like a question, touching her ear and looking at Beth.

Beth grins. “Mika.” A smile blooms on that curious face, lighting it up. She’s the one who pulls Beth into a hug this time, and it’s both fierce and soft. When she lets go, she leans into Beth’s side again and they stay like that, arms over shoulders and comfortably curled up together, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence like leaves drink in light. The simple sweetness and companionship of it soothes Beth’s heart, seeking its way into the aching crevices. It’s an odd feeling, both seeping inward and flowing outward, trickling all the way through her until it warms her cold toes in a way that feels both new and strangely familiar.

A long, sleepy yawn announces that Niki’s awake now, too. Soon, she comes out of her room stretching her arms over her head. Mika reaches a hand out toward her to wave in greeting, though she leaves the other arm draped over Beth’s shoulders. Niki smiles at them. That kind smile, too, adds to the warmth washing through Beth. Her feet practically itch with it, and with a growing sensation of déja vu. She fidgets her toes against the floor as Niki walks over to brush Mika’s outstretched hand like a touchstone.

“How'd you sleep? Isn’t that couch the comfiest?” she says to Beth.

“Well, I’ve got a crick in my neck, but I still slept better than I have in years.”

Niki turns her sunny smile on Beth. “Good to hear it. Weird, though, I nap there all the time and my neck’s always fine. Huh. Anyway, I think I might make waffles. You two want some breakfast?”

Mika nods, but doesn’t let go of Beth yet. Beth is lost in thought, trying to remember what that light, floating feeling in her feet reminds her of.

“Sweet.” Niki ambles toward the kitchen and bends down with pursed lips to peer at the fern perched on the counter. “Hmm. You still look a little pale. Let’s get you some more sun.” She brings the plant over to the living room and is fussing over settling it on the sheep table when it clicks for Beth. A physical memory washes over her, for once welcome. She lets it fill her, refreshing like a deep breath of cold morning air her lungs are suddenly hungry for. She flexes her calves and ankles, her legs remembering the joy and freedom of stride and strike. Her bones are finally recalling how they once carried her with ease, even while they're adjusting to the new weight of who she's become. Fully alive again for at least this moment, her soles are practically prickling with the desire to eat up ground.

“How about you, Beth? Do you like waffles?” Niki asks, fluffing the fern’s crinkly green leaves. Mika squeezes her shoulder.

Beth grins and plants steady feet on the blue rug in front of the couch. “Save a few for me? I think I might actually go for a run first.”

[badbihbunnie]

A M O R P H O U S (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Words: 2,5k

Warnings: smut

——————————

N o A n g e l

The air condition is a slow hum in the back of her ears, a bare whisper she isn‘t able to pick up. She is too occupied, her mind filled, her senses clouded. Too long, it had been, since she’s been touched like this, held in the arms of a strong man as his hips rocked her back and forth in a steady pace.

„You sure want to do this?“ his deep tone asks in silent wonder, causing her to pause slightly and think.

Think whether she really wants to do this in one of the many office bathrooms, the company she works at, offers. A part of her tells her to go with it. To enjoy the thrill of being in a public environment about to commit something sinful. Another part of her, however, tells her to screw the idea. To pull her skirt from around her hips and kiss the handsome stranger goodbye. She would never speak of it again, would never think back to what she could have had. But that part, much like the steady breathing of the air conditioning, she ignores. Pushes it back and allows her hands to reach for the buttons on his pants.

Her eyes, bright as the moon on a cloudless night, open, looking to find the ones opposite from her. „Shut up.“ she but manages to sing in need as her lips glide over the roughly shaven parts of his chin, his cheeks and the soft skin on his neck.

Her man chuckles, a low note, from deep inside his throat. „Just making sure.“ simple, and yet his words are swallowed as her swollen lips connect with his in a hungry and firm kiss. The strangers hands play with the hem of her underwear, teasing the sparse peace of fabric before pushing them aside to run a finger along her opening.

She can't hold back the hiss drawn from between her lips, her breath getting stuck behind clenched teeth. „Don't“ she barely growls, eyes closing as the muscles in her lower abdomen tighten painfully. „None of that. No teasing“

And again, she allows him to lure her in with a smile of his. Silently, he looks into her eyes, slowly closing in on her lips. Excitement bubbles within her, adrenaline pumping through her veins as her breathing picks up speed. „Don‘t worry. I got you.“ his breath is a sweet concoction leaving her begging for more; it is a scent of mints combined with the bittersweet taste of tobacco he inhaled when she stepped outside to gather her lunch before they ended up in one of the bathroom‘s cubicles. „Just look at you: pupils blown with lust. Your - “

His tongue moves out to caress her lips. „Lips: wet.“ his fingers play a silent rhythm on the strings of her sanity, a pumping beat echoing within her walls, traveling to her brain. Cirlce around her bundle of nerves, going in, going out. Twist, in again and then out. Pinch. Again, she hisses, inhaling more of that divine air that is his breath.

His eyes, so stark in contrast to her own, look deeply into hers, erasing all previous doubts she may have had. She is weak in his strong arms, useless as her legs are wrapped around his waist, her arms circling his shoulders and neck, holding herself up.

His hands move fast, pushing the contraceptive over his length and guiding himself to her core. His head is a tease against the walls to her paradise, a sweet sensation kissing her legs as she starts to quiver. All too quickly he snaps, an impulsive thrust inside leaving her breathless, gasping for air. Nails dig into his scalp, pulling on the soft tresses of his hair and inhaling the scent of his cologne at the tip of her nose. Her mind is wilding, her senses too far gone while his hips make sweet love to her.

No, she thinks. This isn't love, it couldn't be. Not under these circumstances. She barely knows the man, let alone told him her name for this to be love. She is sure of it. But she loves the way he makes her feel, the way he fills her up and makes her yearn. She loves the determination in his eyes, his brows drawing together in concentration.

„Hen- „ she barely gets out before she is kissed again, his lips connecting with hers, their tongues fighting for dominance.

The man in front of her moves to her neck, trailing harsh kisses down its length. „Shhh“ he whispers. „No talking.“ it is the feeling of warm breath against the shell of her ear, the pressure inside her slowly building, that causes her to whimper.

„Listen.“ she barely catches over the deafening sound of blood rushing to her ears and cheeks. The main door to the bathroom opens, sudden footsteps clicking against the light tiles beneath her form. Her eyes widen in panic. His speed decreases and yet his thrusts intensify. „Dont wanna get caught now, do we?“

Deeply, he pushes into her, dragging her further into the bathroom stall before he finally sits down onto the closed seat - she placed on top of him. Shortly, they lose contact, his length leaving her warmth, allowing her to catch her breath before it is taken from her again.

A groan escapes his lips and in her stupor, she presses her hands against his mouth, praying that they hadn't been caught.

„Hello?“ Her hands start to sweat, the knot in her stomach decreasing with every thrust of his hips, with every movement of hers. He grunts again, making her eyes widen.

„Hello?“ the voice questions again, this time closer, louder. Whoever it is, figured out which stall they were in. She could see their feet at the bottom of the door, shyly peaking through the opening. „Is someone there?“ her ears pick up slow whirring of metal and soft clicking before the man beneath her gives his finals thrusts, breath picking up and then slowing. A few twitches inside of her and he slumps against the toilet seat. His groans and the sudden flush of the toilet overpower her embarrassment, the sick feeling in her stomach.

Disgusted, she looks at him, the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, the blown pupils of his eyes. She opens her mouth to protest, to cry out, when he beats her to it.

„Yeah man,“ he barely guides her hips over his own, twitching once again as he reaches a sensitive spot. „Just had a heavy lunch.“

„Oh.“ the man from the opposite site of the door mentions. She, however, ignores it, the tightness in her chest growing, her anger bubbling over. „Make sure not leave a mess in there.“ In seconds his footstep grow quieter, the screeching of a door opening and closing dancing in the air. It is her cue to push against his shoulders and stand up. It is her cue to fix her dress, smooth out any wrinkles and rebutton her shirt.

„That was nice.“ the man whispers, one of his hands reaching for hers. Her head snaps in his direction, hard eyes meeting his. „We should do this agai-„

„No.“ she states, hand running along her ponytail, releasing the end to let it swing freely and settle against the length of her neck. Swiftly, she turns, unlocking the door and walking out. She leaves him slumped against the toilet seat, pants unbuckled, blissfull. „Fucking asshole.“ she whispers as she walks out the front door, ignoring his pleas to tell him her name, heels tapping against the marble floor.

——————————

A trail of curses leave her mouth, as the soles of her heels continue to click against the ground. Done with the day, ready to quit and go back home, (y/n) stands in line of a foreign bistro, hoping that she could salvage what‘s left of her miserable break with something to eat.

„I‘m sorry m‘am but one of our machines is currently broken.“ the cashier in front of her says. (Y/N) looks from her purse, having just fished out her wallet, and into the eyes of the girl. „Would you mind ordering something else? Again, I am terribly sorry!“

She would have loved to scream no, to take her belongings and walk right out of the little shop. (y/n), however, knew: attitude wouldn't get her anywhere. At least, the cashier was trying her best, offering a warm smile. With a sigh (y/n) looks at the menu, eyes scanning the list. She doesn‘t even know the place let alone any of the menus listed in front of her. What is this place again? Iraq? Palestine maybe?

Teeth grinding against one another, her tongue swipe over her lips. „Number -„ she hesitates, eyes roaming the list. „seventy four I guess?“

Her eyes roll against the back of her head. Her lunch break was slowly coming to an end. „With chicken. No onions, no peppers, no cabbage, red or white. And definitely no tomatoes. Make it spicy though and not too much of the sauce. I‘ll take a bottle of water as well, please.“ the cashier in front of her smiles, nodding her head.

„Alright.“ the girl behind the register smiles again. „That will be $11.65“ Handing over the money, she tells the girl to keep the change before moving aside to look for an available spot in the small restaurant. She could stay inside, saving herself from having to listen to New York‘s busy life style. The sun, however, was out which was a nice change for once, snd maybe that would cheer her up and lift her mood.

„You won‘t mind me sitting down, will you?“ not waiting for an answer, (y/n)‘s legs move forward. „I will be outside.“

Fishing out her sunglasses, (y/n) places them on top of her nose, shielding her eyes from the warm rays of the glowing sun. Looking around, she notices the different faces, the many laughing smiles; couples walking around, hand in hand, in love. Children begging their parents for ice cream. Her eyes then land on the man seating himself in front of her.

„You won‘t mind sharing this bench, right?“ the man, maybe a decade older than her - she isn‘t entirely sure - asks. (y/n) could feel his eyes on her from beneath his sunglasses. She knows him. How couldn't she. Everybody knows who he is and he didn't have a problem letting her know, when he sits without awaiting her answer.

The on going conversation on his phone doesn't stop, even when he asked her whether hed be able to sit with her. „I understand!“ his voice picks up, eyes slowly scanning over (y/n) before his body turned and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

„I know and I am unbelievably sorry, sweetheart but they needed me.“ he tries to reason with whoever he was speaking to. „Okay they needed Iron Man. But see it this way: Iron Man, Tony Stark, same person really. I see no difference. I‘ll make it up to you. Promise!“

The man turns back to her. „Hello?“ His brows draw together, hand lifting from his ear to look the phone‘s screen. She wants to say something, be witty and maybe even make him laugh a little. She keeps silent, minding her own business.

„Number seventy four and a bottle of water?“ a young waiter asks, holding a plate with her food in shaking hands. Nodding her head, (y/n) signals for him to place her order on the table. A quick thank you leaves her lips. „Mr. Stark.“ the young boy exclaims. „Would you like the usual?“

„Ah yes, nice to see you again.“ his hands clap together, watching carefully as (y/n) adjusts the meal on her plate. „No thank you. I‘m afraid I don't have the time, today. You know, I just came from a walk - trying to clear my head. It‘s been a long day at work.“

(Y/n) supresses the snort trying to escape her and rips off a piece from the foil her food is wrapped in. „I just wanted to sit down. Get something done - “ his back straightens, causing (y/n) to do the same, high ponytail swinging over her shoulder with a swift movement of her head. „And enjoy the view.“ From under her lashes, she notices him fiddle with his phone, twisting and turning it in his hands. She can feel him watch her as her hands guide her sunglasses from her nose and onto her head.

He smiles at the waiter. „Maybe some other time.“

„As you wish, Mr. Stark.“ the waiter‘s arms disappear behind his back, before he himself disappears back into the restaurant.

„Schawarma, huh.“ the man opposite from her notices as she‘s about to take her first bite. „It’s my usual. One of their best meals here.“

(Y/n) barely acknowledges him, a meaningless smile on her lips. „I wouldn‘t know, love. I‘ve never been here before.“ her voice is soft, calm and collected. So different to how she feels inside.

„You‘ll enjoy it.“ he assures her. „Of course it‘s not as good as American man and the atmosphere is not quite as prestigeous as office bathrooms, but - is that an accent I hear? British maybe?“

His words make (y/n)‘s head snap up at him, the first bite in her mouth long forgotten. „I‘m not judging, you know. We‘ve all been there-„

„I’m sorry.“ interrupting him as she swallows, head slightly tilting. „Who are you again?“ She desperately tries to fight her body‘s natural instinct to blush and cower in embarrassment. Instead, her lips purse, brows raised in question. Her eyes unimpressed.

„I must admit I‘m quite offended.“ he laughs an earnest laughter, mocking her accent at the same time. „I would have hoped for you to recognize the face that signs your pay checks every month, Miss (y/ln).“

(Y/n) swallows hard, her stomach churning at the thought of having been caught. Hoping he wouldn't have noticed her being caught off guard, she swallows again, dabbing her mouth clean, sipping from her water. „Been silently watching from afar, sir?“ He smiles. „In that case you could have just asked to join. Two’s a crowd but three‘s a party.“

He claps his phone against his hands; once, twice, before checking the time and getting up. „I like to have my eyes on my employees, Miss (y/l/n).“ (y/n) swallows.

„Especially the ones that pique my interest.“

[cryingbilldenbrough]

hi i want to request some ryers from you. idc what it is, i just want to read something about that beautiful ship written by you. literally. you can write about anything you want. please and thank you. (i deserve this for the number of times you’ve made me cry thanks)

ok so just remember that u asked for this

i feel like a lot of ryers stuff has the idea that richie moves to hawkins so let’s switch that

will byers moves across the country to derry, maine and the fresh start isn’t quite what he thought it would be

johnathan isn’t with them, having graduated high school and gone off to college 

joyce rents a two bedroom house and there’s no Johnathan’s Room anymore, no place for will to go and lay on the floor and turn on the boombox and let The Shins drown out the biting wind in his ears

it’s two stories, with stairs that creak under his feet and the basement isn’t like theirs was back home, solely for storm shelter. there’s shelves all along the walls for canning and storage and will spends a whole day down there exploring

anyway he rolls up to derry high school on the first day of sophomore year, his mom sitting in their idling car near the buses, and shoulders his backpack

he keeps his head up

because this is the first time he’s been able to restart and no one in derry knows, man. he’s got the chance to reinvent himself which is every teenagers dream!! 

he slides into his first period homeroom class and there’s a kid in the back who looks as apprehensive as will feels and the boy introduces himself as ben hanscom after class, offering to show will around

“ive been the new kid before” he says, warm and with a smile and will gets a big lump in his throat because he misses dustin SO BAD

ben hanscom invites him to sit with his friends at lunch and will stands through the lunchline for what feels like forever, anxiety swimming in his stomach

but the Party (not a party, will, they’re not the same try not to think of that) is so welcoming and kind? 

eddie kaspbrak is a small boy who pauses mid-rant about the disgusting boys bathroom on the third floor to offer his hand out for will to shake

beverly marsh has max’s firey hair and el’s powerful nature and she winks at will and says something about his haircut and will blushes and ducks his head because while he’s not really interested in women, beverly marsh is everyone’s weak spot/exception

stan uris is quiet and will almost glosses right over him until stan says something wry out of the corner out of his mouth, stopping the entire group in their laughing and joking and they’re deathly still until stan’s facade cracks and he grins at them, all dimples

will notices the air of tension during the pause wasn’t apprehension, more like the group was simply Waiting for stan to give in and accept that he’s told a joke

mike hanlon is quiet with an air of serious consideration, like he’s cataloging everything they do and say to save for later

he looks a little haunted, a little fucked up, and will thinks he recognizes the dead look in the boy’s eyes

mike reminds will of sheriff hopper, kind and haunted and sad

bill denbrough is will’s favorite right away. his eyes are alight and he smiles out of the side of his mouth, guarded, and he makes will feel kind of like the only person in the world when he talks to him

he compliments will’s notebook which is covered in little doodles and will has a weird moment when he’s like Wow i would do anything for bill denbrough? whom i have just met?

basically bill denbrough has +20 charisma and will saves that thought in his back pocket to revisit later

and finally

there’s richie

richie laughs while eating and sprays milk all over the table and has coke bottle glasses and a dumb goofy grin 

he ruffles will’s hair when bev compliments it, sticking his hand across the table and rubbing down just a little too hard

will slaps his hand away, so used to johnathan doing it, and richie laughs and laughs

stan explains richie to him while the other boy is turning his attention to eddie kaspbrak who swears at him, saying “whenever richie needs to shut up, we just say beep beep richie and that does the trick”

will doesn’t get the chance to try out the trick until lunch is almost over, warning bell ringing and everyone scrambling to wrap up the rest of their lunches for later or to throw away

and as will stands up, a book falls out of his backpack

it’s a Dungeons and Dragons guide, the one mike used to map out their campaign  

(”take this with you,” mike says, thrusting the book into will’s hands. they’re standing in the bare byers living room, hands stuffed in pockets and surrounded by cardboard boxes. 

“no, you need it,” will argues “you gotta finish the campaign” and man this hurts really fucking bad

“i bought a new one,” mike says quickly, making will take the book and wrap his fingers around it “besides, we all signed this one”

will opens the front cover and there’s writing all along the inside, little notes and drawings from the Party to him

will holds it to his chest and then brings mike into a hug, the last one before he leaves hawkins for probably forever)

“what’s this?” richie says, holding it out and will tries to snatch it back but richie’s fast “this is some next level nerd shit” he says 

and will knows he’s kidding but years of being called freak dont do well for self esteem and will is blinking back tears before he can stop himself 

“beep beep richie” he says in a choked voice and nobody else but them is paying attention which will is thankful for because crying in front of his new friends is NOT COOL

and as soon as he says it, richie’s fingers go lax. he gives the book back without a second more of fight and will blinks and tries to calm down and richie’s just looking at him

“it’s from my friends” will explains and richie nods, little and thoughtful. there’s a beat, a moment of peace and silence, and then richie’s throwing his arm over will’s shoulders

“welcome to the losers club,” he says, warm and understanding

and will byers has a new party, a club full of laughter and love and a power he doesn’t yet understand

for the first time in a long time, will belongs again

but this is derry and in derry the dead don’t stay dead and that includes dead pasts

will opens his locker one day and a balloon floats out

it’s red, almost transparent from how overblown it is, and it drifts at exactly his height out into the hallway

will reaches a hand out, to touch and figure out who the fuck put that in his locker and what the fuck it is

and the balloon spins

ZOMBIE BOY it says in happy white letters

and will blinks and he’s in the Upside Down

it’s not real it cant be real but the cold is biting and the wind is chilling him to the bone and derry is covered in vines but it’s different this time? theres a smell of decay in the air that hawkins didnt have, the scent of actual real death and it smells like brick and concrete and a sewer and the bodies of hundreds of dead kids

will’s hyperventilating, crying and stuck frozen and the balloon is still there and it drifts towards him and it’s getting closer and the demogorgon isnt there but there’s something else, a presence of evil he can FEEL and it sounds like dripping water and fingernails on steel and breaking bones and wheezing breath

there’s lights in the distance, three of them swirling together in a drifting dance

just when will thinks it’s real, just when he’s giving into the swirling lights and blowing wind and the shiny red balloon

the balloon pops

the sound is a gunshot, shocking him out of the trance and will blinks and he’s back

he’s in the hallway and the balloon is gone and the Upside Down is gone and richie tozier is there

he’s got his hand outstretched towards will and he’s saying something that will cant hear over the rushing wind in his ears

“are you okay?” he thinks he sees richie mouth and he forces himself to nod

later, after he’s explained it all, richie tells will he found him staring at the wall, catatonic and crying

will wants to be embarrassed but he’s only grateful for richie for bringing him back

“it was a balloon?�� richie says, voice hushed. they’re in the boys bathroom, crowded together in the furthest stall while they skip class

richie had stuck his sneakered foot on the toilet and hoisted himself up to open the window

he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and offers one to will, which he declines, before lighting up and taking a drag

“yeah” will responds

“fuck” he breathes out, smoke leaving his lungs and it smells strong enough that it erases the scent of this new Upside Down from will’s nostrils, replacing it with menthol and richie

“did you see…. a clown….” richie says and will wants to laugh but he looks serious

not just serious

richie looks downright scared

he’s shaking a little, the cherry of his smoke bobbing in the air and will knows that kind of fear, the primal urge to fight or flight and richie looks kind of tired and weary too

“no” will says and richie sighs, relieved

he doesnt want to tell richie he saw the past and the future at the same time, an alternate and adjacent universe far beyond anything either of them could comprehend

richie takes another drag off his cigarette and sets his jaw and will thinks he’s making a decision

“meet us at the clubhouse after school” he throws the cig out the open window and leaves will, the bell ringing in the distance

when will shows up in the barrens, backpack over his shoulders, they’re waiting for him

the clubhouse is hidden and will has been to it a few times and still sometimes has trouble picking it out, camoflauged with brush and leaves

he drops down into the ground and the whole Club is there 

he draws his knees up to his chest as richie tells them all of how he found will, explaining the dead look in his eyes 

(”they almost looked…. grey” he says and all the blood drains out of bill’s face in the light of a few candles)

richie hands it over to will to explain what he saw and will struggles through his explanation, trying not to let onto the fact that he’s some freak with Now Memories and a haunted fucked up past

but the Club doesn’t look… surprised? scared?

they look frightened and tired and weary and sympathetic

stan uris has his knees drawn to his chest and is running his fingers over the sides of his face, over faint scars will never noticed before

“sounds like…” eddie trails off

“i k-know what it s-s-sounds like,” bill says 

“sounds like what?” will asks and hes kind of pissed off because they all look shifty

they’re hiding something, some secret related to balloons and death and fucking clowns and will byers is so FUCKING SICK of being out of the loop

of being left out of the plans because he’s weak and people are afraid of him getting hurt

“sounds like what?” he repeats and the group collectively flinches

“look, we don’t know exactly” ben starts

“it’s hard to pinpoint exact memories,” bev finishes for him and they share a look “we can’t keep track of all of it,” 

“they c-c-come and go” bill says and eddie nods and richie looks sick and angry

“what happened here?” will asks, voice low

the group look at each other, the lucky seven sharing their cosmic energy and deciding to pull another into their chess game with death

they make a decision, an election, to tell the story, the history of their haunted town and the fog that covers it, the story of a manifestation of Evil and their ever-tiring fight against It

will feels richie’s hand slip into his, sweaty and shaking but grounding

he turns to look at richie and the boy is smiling at him, soft and guarded and will thinks he’s very lucky to have met this group, haunted pasts be damned

“derry,” mike hanlon starts, licking his lips, “is not like other towns”

send me headcanons/prompts/requests!

[slythmyth]

Expect The unexpected

Chapter 2 Expect the unexpected

Warning: Fluff, Strong language but just sometimes.

Reader x Taehyung

Picture is not mine!*

Once you’ve met someone you never really forget them

It was the 1st January 2019, 11 am to be exactly. You’ve never had such an hangover before. Your head is aching and you have a strange feeling in your stomach.„ wait what happened at the party? “ you asked yourself. It didn’t matter how much effort you put into remember what happened you just simply couldn’t remember except a beautiful boxy smile.

You stood up and tried to walk to your guests room where your bestie was sleeping. You stepped inside and watched her slowly waking up.„Did you sleep well (Y/bfs/N)?” „yeah kinda i had a strange dream, don’t ask me what about.” you sat right next to her and wondered if she could remember what happened.

„do you remember what happened yesterday i cant remember a single thing!” „well” said you bestie with eyes wide glued at the ceiling„ I danced with the hottest guy in the whole club!, we talked for kinda 10 min about his career and hobbies, we had shots, danced like wild and you-“„Me what?” you said with curious voice. „nothing I thought i could remember something but i just can remember what i was doing but not 100%.” your eyes saddened and your head looked on the floor. You thought that your bestie could help you remember that guy from the party but without any success. Your bestie looked at you and saw your disappointment. „But “ she started„ I think i can remember something, yeah i think my hook up and your mystery man know each-other, ergo they must be friends you know what that means noona?” „ That you will never learn that you cant call me noona?” you said with a sarcastic smile. „No stupid, it means if i can remember the name of my hook up we surly are going to find out the name of your mystery man!” she said with a proud smile. You first looked ar her with a disbelief in your expression but after thinking about it you start to believe that idea. it’s just logical but you know your best friend that if she wants something unconditionally, she gets it, but wait she cant even remember what she said 10 mins ago? how is she going to try remember a name, while she was drunk? „sweetie dont worry i got this” said (Y/Bfs/N) with a confident smile. 30 min after talking you walked to the bathroom, took your clothes off and started to pour water in the bathtub. You took your favorite scent vanilla and pour it in. You set in and put on some music. Moments after you relaxed, your best friend ran into the bathroom with her hands on her head grabbing her hair.„NOONA omg I remember something!” „CANT THAT WAIT PLS? FOR GODS SAKE!” you said while trying to cover yourself.„No cause I remember some names and i will forget them if i don’t tell you now!”you knew it was important so u said:„alright turn around cover your eyes and give me the towel and tell me.” „alright, so what I can remember is someone’s name was sugar i guess? and then Cookie, hope, jimmy, tea, worldwide something and something with monster. I’m 100% sure that my hook up was the monster but he told me his real name but i kinda stuck with Moon and joon something in between but i lend him my phone, i dont even know why!”You looked at her with a confused glance and said: "wait he used ur phone??? GO AND GET IT HURRY! “ „why whats the matter?” asked your now confused friend. „idiot he could’ve gave you his number or he took a picture now go and get that damn thing already !” your best friend rushed to her room and searched for her phone after finally getting it she couldn’t believe her eyes when she unlocked her phone. She found a blurry picture of herself with her hook up but she couldn’t recognize him. You run with your towel around yourself towards her.„And??? did u find something suspicious?” „well yeah this strange picture and well a unknown number on whatsapp wait a sec the initials are RM" Said (Y/bfs/N) with shocked face.„ I guess we found your hook up, write him something” you said nervous cause it was the only way to find that mysterious man from last night. So (Y/bfs/N) wrote a simply : Hey are you that guy from the new years eve party?”You both waited and waited for so long that you couldn’t wait any longer. „You now what crazy is when you have a simply 1 % chance to find maybe the love of your life with the help of a total stranger who maybe don’t even know him...” you said with all lost of hope. „wait noona he will write back i know it! HE WILL”

You put on your black ripped jeans, with your black low vans, and oversized wine red hoodie and walked to your closet where your black jeans jacked was hanging. „ I will never find him, sooner or later i’m going to forget him anyway so who cares.” „where you going?” asked your bestie while starring at her phone. „I’ll need some fresh air that’s all, be right back bye.”

You walked out of your house heading to the city. It was cold and yet the sun was shining. You needed something to eat and get yourself some coffee, so you decided to enter the Starbucks coffee shop. You ordered a english breakfast with a latte macchiato for on the way. You sat down on a settle and ate your little breakfast as soon as you finished you stood up and walked along the streets. You saw a Shop for Artists, they sell utensils for paintings you didn’t know what it was but you had a strange feeling that you needed to enter this shop, as your life would depend on it. Your heart started to race as you would know that something or someone was in there.„Strange maybe i see something i need too finish my drawing at home.” you said yourself. As you entered the shop a familiar smell of paint got into your nose, kinda feels like home. You walked up to the acrylic colors and crash into someone who was taller then you. „oh i’m sorry my bad, here let me help you!” said the stranger lending you his hand. „this voice wait it sounds familiar to me.” You thought yourself right after that you looked up to him he had a kind smile on his face and honey tanned skin with a black headband, black jeans and black long sleeved shirt.

„No it was my fault, should’ve watched my steps.” He disagreed and helped you to grab all your stuff that fell on the ground.„Thank you..-“ „V” he replied fast.„V? wait that actually can’t be your full name.” you said with a suspicious look. „yeah you right it’s not my real name but you could not pronounce it.” he replied with a smirk.„ oh yeah let me try it then.” He took a piece of paper and wrote his name down so you could pronounce it.„Kim Taehyung, what a beautiful name.” He looked at you with a very surprised face and said:„ well thank you but wow you could pronounce it perfectly, what’s your name?” „Y/N Y/L but I know that’s going to sound a bit weird but did we’ve met before?”„ actually we did at the party you remember?” „well now as you mentioned it yeah the only thing i could truly remember was that beautiful boxy smile.” As soon as you said those words you started to realize what you’ve just said and started to blush but you weren’t the only one. Taehyung touched his neck and looked on the floor while blushing like a little shy boy. You both talked for hours and drank hot chocolate in the Artist shop. You talked about so much that you didn’t realize it was almost 4 o’clock, you’ve spend almost 4 hours just talking with him. You phone buzzed multiple times so you looked at it and saw the 20 missed calls of your best friend it must be very important if she calls so much times. „Is everything okey?” Tae asked. „yeah it’s just my best friend called me multiple times and i’m worrying right know that something might happened.” he put his hand on yours and told you that you should go home and look after her. as soons as you agreed you both stood up put on your jackets and walked to the exit as Tae paid both hot chocolates. You both stared at each other like it could last forever and walked to the bus station. „It was very fun to see you again i wouldn’t mind if we can meet each-other like that again what do you think?” You couldn’t believe what you just have heard you felt a strange but familiar feeling in your stomach. „Of course we can i would love to” shortly after that he gave u a hug and before you could even react to it you noticed the bus that was waiting for you to enter. „I need to goo, thank you Taehyung for this amazing day I’ve never had so much fun in a long time!” Before he could even respond and ask your number you got pushed in by other passengers that almost missed the bus. He waved goodbye and said to himself:„No Y/N i thank you that we’ve met each other.”

—————————————————————

You just have arrived at home and as soon you opened your door (Y/Bfs/N) stood in-front of you with wide eyes. „Noona omg you finally here RM wrote me back and thats not his real name btw its Rap Monster well actually its Namjoon but anyway you never going to believe me what i’m going to say to you.”

You rushed upstairs with your bestie put on some comfy clothes and sat on your bed.

„It doesn’t matter what it is I have something better so-“ „NO NOONA YOU DONT UNDERSTAND!” you looked at her tried to calm her down. “Look Y/N remember yesterday at the bus station we saw the 7 handsome men dancing on the tv?” you nodded.„well guess Rm is that guy from that BTS video, the one with the greenish hair and he knows the name of your mystery man it is V-“ „Taehyung” you said sharply after her. „Taehyung?” you bestie said with confused look. „Yeah V is just a nickname and Guess what i met him at the artist store today! we talked and drank Chocolate, wow why didn’t I recognize him when I saw him at the party?”

„Anyway he send me that picture just 5 min ago and look its your boy V.” You took your besties phone and couldn’t believe what you saw. It’s him.„Okey Namjoon invited me to a concert of them and he said I could bring someone with me that means you could see V again! isn’t that nice?! “ „Thats great cause I don’t have his number and its better if you wouldn’t ask RM cause i think its better that way.” you said with a smirk on your face.

RM continued to write the date of the concert and all the infos. You were laying on your bed an thought about the amazing day, You knew from the beginning that you would see him again even if you weren’t 100% sure. „Maybe we really never forget someone after we’ve met once.” Afterwards you fall in a deep sleep and dreamed about V.

That was Chapter 2 Hope you liked it!

Chapter 3 Idol

[a-true-deviant-explored]

Texas two step or the making of true sex goddess

She was my younger cousins best friend, to young to be looking at when I first met her. Nine out of ten men would have notice her boobs first. They were big round soft and really didnt fit her frame yet. I noticed her eyes, and the different things they emoted. She was 16 and loved being the center of attention,her and my cousin both. The diva twins I called them. My cousin would only grow out of that slightly, Katie on the other hand would cling for positive attention while mostly generating negative.

My time is texas was difficult. After a long battle with my family and me withdrawing as to lessen the drama, an opportunity presented itself I couldn't resist and let me reconnect with both sides of my family, the ones who questioned how I went from the golden child to citizen zero. As I reconnected with them and the adults my age and older got to hear my side of what happened,I was accepted again, granted the were Leary but gave me a wide berth.

Until my cousin Fred's wedding. It was held out of the area and for much of the time, to keep appearances I lived well below what I could in a self punishment guilt. But when I heard of the full family reunion I tried unsuccessfully to bow out. My aunt, my secret keeper who knew more then even me about what happened warned me. For once let them see that they couldn't hold you down. So I went big. Even though I rode with my aunt and two family members I hadn't seen in almost a decade I knew it would be a hard weekend,lucky for me I got a distraction that allowed me to later on help someone who was mirroring in her own way.

I was the youngest of my generation of cousins and quietly asked to make sure the young ones didnt cause drama. Which being teens they did. My female cousin not only demanded her best friend Katie be invited but her boyfriend as well. It was suggested to me I let the boy stay with me. I quickly shot that down for one reason, I didnt want to know shit, already stressed not really taking time off from my job and working remotely as best as I could I didnt need the headache.

That lasted 39 minutes after I got their. My fav cousin in the world kristen was at my door warning me, the diva is pissed they wont let her and her bf be in a hotel room by themselves. I straight looked at her, btw she lived in New York and said does any think that bitch is still a virgin? Dam she has them all fooled. Kris came in as did her brother, and an easy atmosphere developed. Kris goes she is going to take it out on Katie, who is great but I think is off her meds. If anyone would know it would be her. But it was the first I heard about it. I thought she had a decent life but I was wrong. Mental abuse physical abuse. Shit parents who barely let her eat. Keep an eye and let me know

The first night we all went out for dinner and it was nice. Except for the children being children. And Katie's dress really not fitting, like way short,she is tall, and not form fitting. It was a long affair and people would drift from tables to the patio vice versa. Katie had been upset the whole time but the lighting concealed it. But I hadn't seen her in a bit and when I went looking for her found her and one of the groomsmen by the bar. I quickly walked over looked at the groomsmen and said you dont know me, but go ask my cousin what an absolute motherfucking nightmare I will make your life if you do not go back to the hotel and only come out of your room for events . He squared up and was about to say something when my father, who I was seeing for the first time in forever and realized his shit was flowing with what happened, told the douche bag let me save you the trip. People say they know where the bodies are buried, he buried them. The boy took off, a simple you got this and a nod and he walked away.

Katie. She was pissed, and drunk and stoned and couldn't walk straight and a mess. I guided her outside and she was like I just didnt want to be made to feel unwanted. I whispered look Rachel is a bitch. Hang out with us tonight and tomorrow and it will be ok. And what the fuck were u doing with that ass fuck he is like my age. Not really but closer to mine. He said he would make me have an orgasm.

I stared at her in disbelief, umm one dont rush it, trust me you will have plenty and some better then others, and not my business but really him? All these boys your age her and you pick him. On the verge of passing out she mumbled well you didnt show any interest. The New York cousins raced her back to the hotel, a good hour away. And I went to talk to my aunt. Look u need to tell Rachel her shit almost led her bff to a bad mistake. I'm going back to catch up with the kids. Bring me her pajamas she can sleep in my spare room but I have work in the morning so come collect her

Taking a cab,no uber's yet lol, I got back and the kids were at the bar. Shes ok up in your suite. Embarrassed pretty sober. Might be in the tub. I gave them a hug and told kris text me when everyone gets here and distract the young ones. Tell romeo and slut to go make out

I opened my door and called out. Katie. U ok. The bathroom door opened and she meant to stick her head out to say hi but tripped , 10 yrs later she still trips on air daily, and her towel fell below her tits. I'm not usually a fan of big tits, the areolas and nipples get distorted. But hers were perfect and rising as we stared at each other. Damn girl your built for speed, one day someone is going to be lucky. I pulled her towel up looking her in the eyes.. she babble I swear I didnt mean to flash u. I laughed well next time let me see everything and we will call it a draw. Silly me thought she would understand a joke, but her towel hit the floor, katie I'm not a moral person, reaching down tracing her hips, I dont give a rat's ass about your age, but time and place, and this isn't it, tears forming but I'll give you a tease and slide a finger in her. Eyes fluttering and slightly surprised her response was a simple oh my. My lips found hers and mouths open and I picked her leg and wrapped it around my hip. She was grinding and grasping and apologizing. I asked why she goes I cant keep my hips still so u can well. I whispered baby your supposed to move. Makes it funnier. She came pretty fast and I told to get dressed and if this is something she wanted to come see me on her 17th. She giggled u know that's like a week from now, I do but be ready I don't advertise who I'm with and and I'm very different from anyone else you will ever have

Her 17th birthday fell on a sat. She asked if I was free. I will be about eleven. Dont u have plans with family? Nope mom left money and is headed to Houston for the weekend.

Ok, listen carefully trim dont shave. There will be a present for you in my foyer. Put it on. I'll be outside. Three hours later I hear her arrive. Fuck I thought something slinky but she walked outside, really. Jewelry? Are these real. I nodded, she climbed into the jacuzzi fully clothed, for the next four months that would be the most clothing she wore in my house. She found a teacher and mentor. I found a lifelong friend. Today she called me out of the blue, bad yr keeps getting worse, hello my friend. I didnt say anything till today. I'm six months along and it's going to be a boy. And I'm naming him after you. Thank you for everything my life, my schooling and degree and a wonderful career.