#I need to make my grandma her curtains

[tj-crochets]

Crafting update: -I have abruptly realized I probably should have already started holiday crafting but am ignoring that for now lol - three rows completely sewn together out of fourteen for the new rainbow triangle quilt! One row sewn into a row but it needs one more round of ironing before I sew it to the quilt top. Ten rows to go - I have three coworker's babies (or grandbabies) to make blankets for! I think I'll just go for simple flannel blankets instead of quilts so I can get them all done quickly, but baby blankets!!! :D - I need to mail stuff and if I promised to mail you something recently I swear I still will. I have a pile of packages to mail forming, the local post office just has very restricted hours and the asthma flareup has made leaving the house into a high-spoons activity. So, this weekend? Or early next week at the earliest - oh no oh no holiday crafting

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[willowser-but-nsfw]

i feel like bakugou only does fwb because mina tries to explain to his wound up ass that sometimes adults just have consensual sex for the fun of it.

like maybe it starts as an accident, or unplanned; somehow, she managed to get two mixed drinks in him — which is two drinks too many — and you're all at denki's birthday party and he's having a little more fun than he's willing to ever admit, and you're there, some friend of jirou's, and before he knows it, his face is flushed and he's staring at you a little too obviously from across the room.

you're pretty, that's all. and even though he's got this big dumb scar on his face and hands and chest and shoulders and — you're looking at him, too. making a face at him when something funny happens, eyes wide, lips curled into some amused smile; mouthing things to him, like he's wasted when denki falls and brings the curtains down with him. you're interacting but not, and did he really expect mina not to notice ???

"you should go talk to her!"

bakugou's reaction is a little slow, but just as intense; eyebrows furrowed, teeth grit, nostrils flared, as if she just suggested he kill his own grandma or something. "stay the hell outta my business."

unphased, she grabs one of his shoulders, fingernails diggiing in when he tries to shake her off. "c'mon, she's cute! and you two have been making googly eyes at each other all night!"

and — okay, he doesn't say anything to that, even though he definitely has not been making fucking googly eyes at you. it just takes him by surprise a little, that's all, that she thinks you've been making googly eyes at him. whatever that means. but the alcohol has set in enough that he's a little too transparent, a little too quick to bare his insecurities.

unthinking, he swivels his head back to stare at you, how you're smiling and chatting with some girl you came with, sticking your tongue out at him when you notice him looking, before he's swiveling to face back at mina again.

"the fuck am i supposed to say? i don't ever—" chat up strangers, he means, because — he never knows what the fuck to say. and it seems like a waste of time, usually, because he's got to reveal himself little by little and hope the other person doesn't run off crying because he hurt their feelings or something.

he's busy. hell, mina knows that better than anyone because her schedule isn't any looser than his, so it's not like he's really got time to date right now, and even if he did, he wouldn't have the time to devote to it that he probably should. it's why he's avoided it this long, and he makes a habit of steering clear of this subject with everyone, especially her, because she's always saying things like—

"you seriously need to get laid, blasty! maybe some of the pressure will release from your big head!"

and then he's attracting too much attention by trying to blast her to smithereens; something about alcohol makes him fourteen again, too quick to whip out the die!'s and sparking palms.

it also throws off his balance a little, because he doesn't really want to turn her to dust and so he's not fighting as hard and she's almost got him in a headlock when you walk up, laughing at how much they resemble clumsy, overgrown children.

as soon as mina sees you, she's up on her feet and saying, "he's totally clean, practically a virgin!" before he can actually, really, truly end her young life. and you laugh some more when his face goes beet red and he means to insist that that's not true — it is — but you sit too close beside him on the couch and it's like he's taken a large sip of one of mina's too-strong drinks all over again.

"you know," you start, crossing one leg over another so that it's brushing against his knee. "you're a lot funnier than i thought you'd be."

and bakugou has zero game sober, so he says, "...well...you dunno shit about me, so..."

"no, i guess i don't," you snort, leaning a little further into him, grin widening when his cheeks darken at your proximity. "but i'd like to learn."

no. he's not gonna tell anyone that you fucked in sparkplug's guestroom. zero. nobody. taking it to the grave, because he's really not that kind of guy. and there's already this out of control rumor about him in the media that he's some sado-masochist hard dom and he's not really trying to fuel that fire.

okay, he doesn't tell anyone except mina, because she's the one that got him into the whole thing in the first place.

"it's really not a big deal, kats." she says it to him over breakfast in her overdecorated, over-pink kitchen, smirking at him from across the bar counter where he's chugging some green drink she concocted. "people hook up with strangers all the time."

"well, i fuckin' don't." he grumbles, frowning at the heart pattern on her dinner plates. the too-large glasses she's given him to block out the sun aren't helping. more for show than anything, he thinks.

"not like i want to know all the raunchy details but," —she and bakugou share a grimace at the thought— "didn't you have at least a little bit of fun?"

okay, he did.

you're — carefree, in the sense that nothing was too serious, too awkward. this isn't something bakugou does on the regular so it maybe might have been a while, but — you were fine with that. didn't mind at all, seemed to be just as content sitting naked on top of him, tracing the ugly lines over his chest and across his shoulders and at his hip and —

he also learned his refractory period is about 12 minutes. and that yours is about 45 seconds.

yeah, he can admit that he had a decent time with you, but the problem isn't that he hooked up with some stranger.

the problem is that he kinda liked watching you through hazy eyes as you walked your fingers up his chest, fiddling with his ear and pushing his hair up off his forehead. that he kinda liked pulling your legs up around his hips because you fit together a little better than he expected. that he didn't know you would feel so good or sound so sweet underneath him.

the problem is that sex makes him vulnerable and that's the real reason he avoids it so much. the problem is that he doesn't really want to hook up with strangers.

the problem is that now he just wants you.

[drchenquill]

Character profile tag!

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet , @sableglass , @finickyfelix and @paeliae-occasionally ! I'm sorry it took me so long, I just couldn't decide who to take for this game. I'll just go with my baby boy Leon.

Name: Leon Martens

Nickname: "Waschlappen" by his late grandma. (It's German and it means sissy, wimp and so on.) It's an insult, but she used it as nickname, often refering to him like that while talking to other people, making it sound like a cute "family inside joke".

Kind of being: Human

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Appearance: fluffy honey-blonde hair with dark drown eyes. Very pale, almost sickly looking skin. He mostly wears cardigans to feel comfortable. His calloused hands look frail like everything on him to be honest. He is rather thin and weak looking. He is a frail man.

Occupation: Art teacher

Family members: None (all deceased. It wasn't a big family)

Pets: None

Best friends: he would say none, but Kiki has taken that spot very fast.

Describe his/her room: So, a bit of context. He moved into a shabby apartment but mid story was forced to move again into a not-as-shabby apartment. I'll describe his old room because his current room isn't his, it's Kilians.

Quoting him: "My bedroom has a large window that looks out onto the street. Normally I would draw the curtains, which didn't happen this time. That's why I can see the first shy rays of sunlight creeping into the day. The apartment I'm currently renting consists of five rooms. The bedroom with a double bed that takes up far too much space, thanks in part to the wardrobe that will collapse on me with just a small earthquake and free me, a bathroom that barely has room for a bathtub, a living room furnished with a beige couch that I doubt was the original color, a small TV that I'm afraid to turn on and, last but not least, the small kitchen where I recently tried to make a coffee with shaky hands and the flame of the stove almost burned my face."

Way of speaking: Polite, tries to never raise his voice.

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): He avoids eye contact and often walks with his head down. When he's stressed, his right hand tends to cramp, so you may see him subtly massaging it. He also tends to have twitching hands when he feels the need to draw something to calm down. He is developing a hunchback by always walking with a hunched posture to subconsciously make himself smaller.

Items in his/her back pocket/ purse: A small pocketsized sketchbook with a tiny pencil (he draws to calm himself down.) And his phone and wallet.

Hobbies: Drawing.

Favorite sports: None.

Abilities/Talents/Powers: Drawing

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): He tries not to interact with other people, but when he does, he tends to not hold eye contact for too long. He is rather submissive, not wanting to anger anyone.

Fears: Being looked at, making mistakes, angering other people, people thinking he is insane.

Fault: He is very paranoid and does not trust at all. He always thinks the worst and often doesn't give the other person a chance to explain. He can be very petty.

Good points: He is very gentle with children. He loves children because he feels safe around them.

What he/she wants more than anything else: To be left alone and to get rid of the crushing guilt he feels after surviving the car accident that killed his parents.

~~~

Tagging with no pressure @theink-stainedfolk , @inseasofgreen , @katenewmanwrites , @kaeru483 , @happypup-kitcat24 and open tag~

[cologona]

If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

[hildegardladyofbones]

It is so fucking baffling how little care people have when talking about the ussr, even when they're the same people that are super respectful about imperialism, genocide, etc. Not saying they shouldn't be, I'm just wondering where it all goes when the soviet union comes up. Like sure, we're white people, the world isn't systemically against us, not arguing against that, but that doesn't erase the 51 years of dictatorship that we had to live under.

People that barely even know what was happening behind the iron curtain make jokes about stalin, lenin and brežnev. Whenever someone said the word "us" the replies were always "*communism intesifies*", though luckily thay trend seemed to die out. It was disrespectful nevertheless. And if you're from an ex soviet country and say that you don't mind them, good for you, idc. Your opinion doesn't invalidate mine. This not a joking matter. I'm not calling you a bad person if you like those jokes, but the discussion about what was going on is seemingly non existent and we need to have it! People need to at least be aware when they talk about these topics!

I may not have lived through it, but my mom, and her mom did. My grandma has serious hoarding problems now because of the trauma of not having anything. People were afraid to help each other because if you help the wrong person you'll get labeled a traitor. You couldn't escape because you would ruin the life for people that you left behind, because if a family member was against the system then you couldn't get permits for buying cars, let alone moving. There were fucking book burnings. People got sent to siberia for looking at someone wrong. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

What it was was not communism, it was a dictatorship. So don't call me an anti communist. Instead of doing that, pick up the beauty of history by viivi luik. The English translation is free on the Internet archive. If you can get on your hands on it, read the seventh spring of piece and pay attention because that book you have to read in between the lines.

Tl;Dr respect my (and other people's countries') country's trauma and learn what the school didn't teach you because there's no way that this disrespect would exist if people knew.

[joeyquinndrabz]

Inked- Joseph Quinn x Reader

TW: none im trying to give you guys a break from the angst I have in my drafts 😭

Being a tattoo artist was a dream you’d had since you were a kid. Your friends would laugh and tell you to ‘get real’ but you knew it’s what you wanted to do and so you did. Your grandfather was a tattoo artist in London and became highly respected by the whole city, everyone wanted a tattoo from your grandfather and so did you. When you were 18, he gave you your first tattoo after years of pestering. His talent was impeccable and his art was your inspiration. You soon began an apprenticeship at his shop and , it must be in the genes, because you’re very good at it too. Of course you were aware of the privilege you had due to your grandads high status, but it didn’t mean you didn’t have to work hard. It took years of practice to get to the level you’re at now, but being 28 and working alongside your 68 year old grandad was the gift that kept on giving. His guidance was still so important to you and your relationship was unbreakable. He wasn’t your stereotypical elder male tattoo artist, his style was still the same as it had been in the 70s. Checkered button ups, flares, docs and a very impressive moustache. He was ridiculously cool, your grandma was the same. A stylish woman with a blue rinse on her grey hair and she was always sporting a pair of new glasses. She worked on the front desk, greeting each client with a smile and being the first point of contact to ease that anxiety many of them had. It was a family run business and a great one at that.

It’d been a busy day, it was a Saturday and you’d tattooed a lot of people and a lot of different things. You were getting ready to pack up when your Grandfather could be heard chuckling out in the corridor. There were two different male voices that followed and curiosity killed the cat, you wanted to find out more.

“Ahh this is my wonderful granddaughter I’ve been talking about. She’ll enjoy this one lads.” He chuckled at the two mystery men as he pulled you in for a side hug. “Enjoy what?” You questioned, smiling at the two strangers. “It’s slightly embarrassing but we got very drunk and stick and picked out initials onto each others feet but they’re not looking the best.” One of them told you, you noticed the curtains he was sporting and the slight permanent smirk that was stuck on his face. “Yeah not our brightest idea.” The other man laughed, you noticed something different with this one. He was looking directly at you, admiring your tattoos with each passing of his eyes. It was cute. He was cute.

“Let’s get you lads sorted, I’ll do yours Wesley and Y/N can do Joe’s. I won’t make you do them both kiddo you’ve been here since 6.” Your grandad aimed the last bit at you, you smiled and nodded before taking Joe into your part of the studio.

“I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t know you’d been here that long. I’m more than happy to get it fixed another day.” The man who you now knew as Joe was rambling and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly it’s fine, if you were coming in for a back piece then I would’ve said otherwise but I’m sure we can fix this in no time.” You smiled at him as you handed him the consent forms. “Do people genuinely come in last minute for things like that?” He asked whilst signing all the needed paperwork. “You’d be surprised, we don’t actually do walk ins but my grandads had a rule that if he likes your ‘vibe’ then he’ll allow it in some cases.” This caught Joes attention, looking up at you from the clipboard to give you a massive smile that you could only assume was because he’d realised he met your grandads criteria. “He’s a cool man.” Joe continued to smile as he handed you the papers back. “He’s my favourite discussion point, the man’s a walking, talking 70s masterpiece.” You laughed and soon heard him joining in with you. “I’d kill to have him as my grandad, you’re very lucky.” Joe was admiring the art on the walls, walking closer to his favourites then standing back with a tilted head to take it all in. “I’m forever grateful for him, he’s the reason I do what I do.” You smiled to yourself, getting ready to fix the drunken scribble on his foot. “Looks like you’re pretty bloody good at it too, love.” He turned to face you, admiration on his face. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You shyly smiled back before asking him all the boring questions required.

Joe was now sat on the tattoo bed, showing you the tattoo in all its glory. “I mean.” You tried to find the words but struggled with a chuckle.

“Yeah I know I think Wes was shaking a little bit.” Joe grimaced before laughing with you. “It’s an easy fix don’t worry, are you okay for me to start?” You asked, in a weird way hoping he’d say no so you had more time to talk to him and hear more about his life. But he was ready, he told you he was more than ready and watched you as you got to work.

“You ok?” Looking up from the W and to Joe, you’d expected him to flinch or say something about the pain but he didn’t. Instead his face was plastered with a picture perfect smile. “Peachy keen darlin’.”

You were aware of the blush spreading on your face so got back to fixing the W and soon you had finished, wiping it down and wrapping it up.

“There we are, all finished.” You beamed and watched as Joe admired it in the mirror. “It’s perfect, thank you so much.” He mirrored your expression, happy there was now some symmetry to his drunken decision. “You’re more than welcome, grandad will sort out the payment and everything when Wesley’s finished.” You explained as you began cleaning up your station.

Soon the pair were at the front desk, paying for their tattoos and laughing with your grandad. You were still cleaning up so hadn’t realised they’d left due to your fixation on making the studio ready for you tomorrow morning.

“Knock,knock.” Your grandad announced his presence and walked in with a massive grin on his face. “What’s got you smiling so wide?” You laughed at his animated demeanour as he slowly approached you with his hands behind his back. He sat on the bench and smirked, before pulling his hands from his back to reveal a piece of paper and five £20 notes. “You got a big tip and a new admirer.” He laughed before handing you the money and the note. “But it was a tiny tattoo?” You were in shock, complete and utter shock.

“Read the note.” Your grandad pressed, leaning forward in anticipation. “Grandad!” You exclaimed,laughing at his eagerness. “Oh Cmon kiddo I’m dying over here.” He laughed back.

You opened the note and scanned the page with your eyes, a smile growing after each letter.

I’m sorry if this is totally inappropriate and i completely understand if you rip this up but just wanted to say I really enjoyed getting tattooed by you today and I’d love to get to know you more. Here’s my number, again I’m sorry if this isn’t appropriate I just think you’re pretty incredible and I’d love to get to know you more.

The tip is because you’re a brilliant artist and I hope you treat yourself with it and get something to help ease the stress of today.

All the best,

Joe

XXX

You grabbed your phone and copied the number into your phone immediately, passing your grandad the note before going outside to ring Joe.

“Hello?” He answered, anxiety evident in his voice.

“I’m leaving here in 10 minutes, fancy sharing a couple glasses of wine with that tip?” You had no idea where this confidence had emerged from but nether the less you were extremely thankful for it.

“Darlin’ that’d be a dream.”

[milgramfessing]

I've sent two negative confessions and one positive one, I need to balance that out lmao Uh, this is very obvious from my profile picture, but I love Kotoko. She is one of my favorite fictional characters ever. I'm like, kind of surprised a character like her even exists, a character that is so unbelievably fucked up in terms of their morality and beliefs but is not only treated humanely by the narrative, but has people actively sympathizing with her and wishing she would become better. Like that's something that can exist?? Besides that, I love her shamelessly corny-ass 2010s edgy-ass design and all of her funny little outfits, I love how Aimi voice acts her (especially in Yonah, she was crazy for that shit), I love how she is presented in general in terms of how she's drawn because she either looks badass or a wet cat on the street and I love it I love how when you pull back all the curtains, Kotoko Yuzuriha is just a regular ass girl who felt dissatisfied with the state of the world and wanted to fix it, but ended up getting sucked into fascist-adjacent ideologies in the process. I love how relatable she is in her desire to fix a broken world because it makes her actions in the story so much more compelling and leaves you questioning if you too are capable of Doing That (spoiler alert: you are). A question that echoes through every character in Milgram, but especially Kotoko I love her relationships with the other characters, my favorite to think about being her relationship with Fuuta. I could write a whole other confession on how I view their relationship but it would require four different trigger warnings and I'm not quite sure the rules of this place so for now I'll just say I fucking love how they both clearly know that they're the same person in a different font but neither will ever fully admit it. I also love her dynamic with Es and how she projects her dream of a world where wrongdoers are served justice onto them and forces her values onto them, how she clearly loves them, but also has no problem targeting them where it hurts and manipulating them if it means getting what she wants. That also applies to her relationships with the rest of the prisoners by the way, she straight-up admits that she is fond of the other prisoners, yet she will still abuse them in pursuit of her goals, which is fucking TASTY I eat that shit up so bad I love how Kotoko's family-life mimics the standard nuclear family structure, with a breadwinner father, a housewife mother, and two kids, because it not only hints to Kotoko's generally traditional beliefs, but by her grandma also being included in her family structure, which (though depends on the culture) isn't typical for nuclear families, it goes to show how these dynamics can still be present even if the mold is not filled exactly. Also as a younger sibling, I like that Kotoko is canonically the youngest in her family, I think its cute I love her role in the narrative as a parallel to the prison itself and the ideologies it as a facility is built upon, and how all of it contributes into how Milgram critiques punitive justice and its unhelpful-ness when it comes to actually serving justice to criminals which I fucking looove, and I especially love how in that aspect, just like Es is the stand-in protagonist, you could call Kotoko the stand-in antagonist. She represents all of the ideals of the prison, it's black-and-white mentality, it's bigotry (ableism), the dichotomy of a good person versus a bad person, and how all of it is the main obstacle standing in the way of the prisoners achieving actual redemption, understanding, and clarity, or as we call it: The Therapy Option. I love how I have met so many people who think exactly like her, showing that Yamanaka was absolutely successful in his goal of making the characters feel like real people with 2-dimensional physical appearances. And that's just what I can think of off the top of my head !! In general, I just love her. Look at her, she is so silly

literally the silliest woman ever !! look at her !! No matter how her character climaxes in trial 3, whether she gets worse (please let her get worse its entertaining) or she gets better, I will love her all the same Thank you, Yamanaka, for making this incredibly silly woman lmao I am so sorry for when you get this in your inbox

there are no rules about confessions; I'll post anything. && no worries I love reading longer confessions !!

[suchalonelysunflower]

You're on Your Own Kid (a.i)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Fem! Reader

Summary: Based on YOYOK by Taylor Swift. You and Ashton are two best friends who drift apart even if one of you tries to hold on to the relationship.

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of fatphobia, alcohol, drugs, cheating, eating disorders. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language im sorry)

Word count: 5.6 k

Author's note: This is very me coded cause I needed to sort out feelings regarding two different broken hearts melted into one and several other things so, enjoy my pain, literally. Remember that we love REBLOGS over here and COMMENTS and TAGS and all of that so please, leave your love and SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS. Hope you like it and happy reading 🦋✨🌻

My Masterlist // Taglist on bio!!

Summer went away Still, the yearning stays

8 years old.

There was something so beautiful about the first day of summer break. Maybe it was the fact that the alarm clock didn’t go off and that the sun-soaked curtains were the ones that woke you up, softly letting the warm sunlight hit your face as a reminder that the best twelve weeks of the year were going to start.

Or maybe it was the smile that was immediately drawn upon your face as you heard your best friend call from downstairs:

“Oi, Y/N! What are you waiting for, you bugger?!”

Your barefoot feet touched the floor of your room as you ran to your window, watching with bright eyes and an excited smile as your next-door neighbor and best friend, Ashton, was already waiting for you, all dressed up in his bathers.

“C’mon! We don’t have all day!” He yelled again. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”

You closed your window and headed to the bathroom where you carefully prepared your bathing suit the night before when Anne-Marie came to ask your mother if you and Ash could have a playdate today. More specifically, Ashton was really excited to play with the sprinkler they just got to water the plants, and since neither of them got a swimming pool, he thought it’d be the best idea to combat the Australian heat that way.

Once your teeth were brushed, your hair combed, and your bathing suit on, you were ready to take on summer with your best friend. You ran downstairs to the kitchen, putting on your flip-flops and grabbing your strawberry shortcake backpack before grabbing a cookie from the counter.

“Bye mum!” You called, before heading toward the backyard door.

“Not so fast, young lady!” Your mother’s voice could be heard from the other side of the kitchen.

You sighed as you turned around. Looking defeatedly at the ground as you made your way to her. She stood tall with a crooked brow upon her face, pursing her lips as if she asked you a question even though she never did.

“What’d you got there, sweetie?” She asked, pointing her head toward you but to nothing in particular.

“Uh…”

“Didn’t we talk already about making healthier choices from now on?” She sighed, grabbing the cookie from your hand and giving you an orange instead. “Last year we let it go because of everything that was going on, but you need to start thinking about taking care of yourself, okay?” You nodded.

It wasn’t difficult to understand what she meant. You ate your vegetables and fruits, except bananas and the weird food grandma made that had seeds in it. But it was summer, and she made those cookies yesterday so, who was going to eat them, then?

“Good.” She smiled, cupping your face and placing a small kiss on your forehead “You’ll look so pretty when you grow up, I promise. Now, go play! But be back before sunset!”

“Alright!”

Your smile came back to your face as you walked and peeled the orange, crossing the backyard and opening the fence’s gate that connected your house to Ash’s. There, he was sitting on the ground looking attentively at the gate.

“Finally!” He groaned “I don’t know if you know what 5 minutes are but those were not it”

You chuckled “Sorry! Orange slice?”

“Thanks,” He smiled, getting a whole one in his mouth as he spoke, or tried to, at least “Nough checkth thith outh!”

He walked to the side of the house where he connected the sprinkler to the hose. And suddenly it was like a cascade of rain was falling over you. You squeaked in delight and giggled as you got completely soaked in under a second, watching in awe as the water rose to incredible heights for an eight-year-old and drew shapes in the sky before it fell down over you.

Ashton came running, jumping over the sprinkler and laughing as it moved around, creating new shapes that would soon cover the whole yard in water. You joined him immediately, allowing the water to soak away the heat of the first of many memorable summer days that year.

You played all day and all afternoon. Anne-Marie brought you sandwiches for lunch and stayed with you for a while, even playing with you as she held a small, baby Lauren in her arms, letting her enjoy the water as well. You and Ash would create the most bizarre adventures, imagining you were pirates having a final battle at a waterfall (his idea), pretending you were water fairies (your idea), and trying to see who could outrun the water (both your ideas, neither of you could win).

By the end of the day, you were both exhausted laying on the grass, giggling.

“I don’t want summer to be over!” He said, exaggeratingly throwing his arms to the sky to let them drop to the ground.

“Today’s the first day,”

“But that means one day less!”

“True…” You sighed “Maybe one day we can live on a permanent vacation. Where we don’t have to go to school or work”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Ashton asked, turning toward you.

“Like a real job or my dream job?”

“Aren’t those the same?”

“My mom doesn’t think so. At least she says my dream job is not a real job here so it won’t work”

“Your dream job, then”

“I want to be a singer,” You said, smiling.

Ashton looked confused “But that’s a real job!”

“My mom says it’s not” You shrugged “And I haven’t thought about my real job yet. So what about you?”

“I want to be in a band,” Ashton said with a confident nod “And I’m going to make it my real job”

“Can I be in your band?” You asked.

“Sure! You’re my best friend, of course, you can be in it! Now we only need someone who can play the guitar”

That day you went to bed with a smile on your face.

* I hear it in your voice You're smoking with your boys I touch my phone as if it's your face

17 years old

You halt at the door, take off one of your headphones, and turning back.

“What?”

Your mother, already huffing her way out to meet you halfway, rolled her eyes.

“I said, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes, mom” You answered, tiredly “I’m going to school, you know? The one I’m going to be late to if I don’t catch the bus?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” She tilted her head, “It looks like that’s one of my shirts and-”

“It’s my shirt, mom. We bought it last week” She seemed to have something else to say but you just didn’t have the energy to hear it “I’m gonna be late, bye”

You put back your headphones again, letting Paramore silence the outside world as you walked in the opposite direction to the bus stop. No, you were not going to skip, but the words your mother didn’t say were clinging to the back of your heads like nails, so what if the normal fifteen-minute ride turned into a forty-minute walk? You had time, and plus, the windy morning could really help dry the tears that were already gathering in your eyes.

Crying is not something you did and you were not about to start now. You just got to toughen up, take her words with a grain of salt and keep going. It's not like you’re not making an effort. Is just that for her it is hard to see it since there’s no progress to be shown as fast as she would like.

You’re not in bad shape at all; you’re not a bad kid; your grades are good. It’s just that perfection has a standard in her eyes that you just haven't met yet.

Brick by Brick played for the third time in a loop before you got to school with a few minutes to spare. You smiled at a few of your classmates that you saw in the hallway and went to your locker, opening it to get the things you needed for your first class.

“Hey, you!” A familiar voice said next to you.

You smiled softly as you mindlessly handed Ashton your bag.

“Hey, Ash. Just one moment, please?”

He shrugged as he leaned against the lockers, watching as you put an oversized sweater over your clothes.

“We’re in Australia in April”

“I’m cold”

“Well, it is the year of the end of the world…” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed your bag from him and started to walk together to your first class “Icebergs will melt, the desert will freeze, kangaroos will take over the world-”

“Oh, I would be long dead before a kangaroo tried to fight me” You laughed.

“I’ll defend you!”

“So that our mothers could bury us next to one another? How charming”

The bell rang just in time for the two of you to take your seats. Biology would be the only class you’d share that day and you won’t be seeing each other again until lunchtime rolled around. By that time you were used to losing yourself in thought, especially on days like these where somehow nothing seemed to fit. Or was it because you felt misplaced? You would watch your classmates, smile at them, and make idle talk. You would take notes for your classes and answer the questions the teachers make. But there wasn’t a future here, nothing that seemed to last or that would make you want to stay.

Weekdays were routine that you would soon forget come the weekend. And now the desolated two-day break felt more like the same futile attempt to make something meaningful without succeeding at it. Looking at the window from your room made no sense anymore knowing that Ashton was most likely somewhere else entirely.

At the end of last year, some boy from another school messaged him on facebook asking him to play a gig with them. Since then, Ashton has joined their little band called 5 seconds of summer. A playful name for a band of high schoolers.

You’ve met them a few times and have watched them play whenever they had a gig near town. They were good and were rapidly growing a loyal fanbase with their youtube videos. But their ambition was bigger than just a hobby, and you could see it not just in the way Ashton talked about them, but in the gleam in their eyes every time they hung out or when they played. They were something else and they were ready for more.

However, that didn’t take away the fact that you missed your best friend.

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Huh?” You woke up from your thoughts in the middle of the cafeteria.

Ashton was sitting next to you, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you going to finish your lunch?” He said, pointing to your barely touched tray.

“Uh, no. You can have it”

“You’ve barely eaten”

“I’m not hungry” You shook your head, already sliding the tray to him “And you didn’t bring anything again”

He sighed “I forgot… No, I think I put my lunch in Harry’s lunch box again”

“Lucky him, then” You smiled “You’re still driving me home after school and to Mulligan’s later tonight, right?”

Ashton stopped chewing, closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly. Your smile fell.

“Ash-”

“I’m sorry!”

“Ash, you promised-”

“I know! I know, I’m a dickhead!” He said with regret the moment he saw how sad you looked. “But I promised Calum that I would sneak him out of soccer practice to go rehearse at Michael’s for our gig on Saturday and I completely forgot! I’m so, so sorry Y/N”

A sharp pain went through your heart as you took a deep breath before nodding. You looked down to avoid looking him in the eye, knowing that those puppy, hazel eyes would make you weak in an instant. Your thumbs twiddled with each other under the table, trying to take some of the tension away and distract you from the moment. It was no big deal. It was okay.

“It’s okay”

Ashton was not fooled by the whisper in your voice. “Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Ash. Really” You said more firmly this time, looking at him but not directly at his eyes “I can walk myself home, I need the sunlight anyway. And we can do Mulligan’s another day if you’d-”

“No,” Ash shook his head, “I said I’d be there and I will. I can cut the rehearsal short and I’ll meet you guys there! I will not miss it, alright? After all, you can’t wait for the midnight of your birthday another day, silly”

You smiled as you rolled your eyes, letting his arms wrap around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him, wondering if he can feel just how fast is beating.

* (9:25 PM) me: Ash, I’m already at the bar. I was late lol. So it’s okay if you wanted to stay longer with the boys

(9:55 PM) me: are you on ur way? I ordered us some beers ;) I finally got to use my ID

(10:30 PM) me: I drank ur beer

(11:30 PM) me: you’re not coming, are you?

*

There were two rings before he picked up the call.

“Ash, where are you?” You said into the night air and into the phone. Your classmates were inside the bar, waiting for you to sing happy birthday. But there were still five minutes to go and the person that said would be there was nowhere to be found.

“I- I am Ash,” He said before he exploded in giggles, followed by a fading chorus of familiar laughs at the other side of the line.

Then it hit you. He was still at Michael’s. He never left.

“Ashton, are you- are you high?”

Another explosive set of laughter hit you as an answer. You ended the call. The picture you took at the beginning of the year, with Ashton carrying you on his back as you both wink and make peace signs at the camera, mocks you as you try your hardest to be stoic for yourself.

You looked up to the moon and took a deep breath before coming back to the bar, an already perfect fake smile plastered all over your face as your classmates sang happy birthday at the top of their lungs, half of them already drunk. You didn’t know smiling could hurt that much till then.

By the end of the night, you tried your hardest to ignore the random comments that you happened to hear.

“Where’s Ash?” Someone would ask

“I heard he simply didn’t want to come,” Someone else answered. You didn’t know if to believe them.

The next day you woke up with a thousand messages of apologies and a notebook wrapped in wooden paper.

“For all the songs you’re gonna write”

Anyway

* I wait patiently He's gonna notice me It's okay, we're the best of friends

21 years old

To put it simply, L. A was a fucking nightmare.

Nowhere in the world have you seen such hypocrites smiling at each other like they were best friends all their lives. People were getting high in the backyard by the pool; couples cheating on each other in the same house; every up and coming having their realities shatter in front of their eyes as they realize what their dream industry actually is. And all of that is happening inside your own house in Beverly hills. Yes, you left the outbacks of Australia behind to chase the dreams you fought bravely to make come true. And without anyone’s help, you made it.

You went to college to please your mom, but finding your joy after Ashton had left soon after graduating high school was not easy. However, in order to pay some of your debts, you started working at the same bar you and your classmates used to hang out at. Cleaning tables and serving drinks was not as exciting as it sounded, but what really made it worth it was the open mic nights where anyone could come and present a bit of stand-up comedy or original songs to the public. That’s where you found your escape. Quite literally.

Soon, you were discovered, signed, and shipped off to Los Angeles where success has been modest but impressive for someone with such a short career. But dreams are not easy to maintain.

To have a dream in the city of dreamers is to be a fish in an ocean. Not rare and not exceptional either. It was intimidating and scary, all the more doing it all by yourself in a country where no one seemed to be your friend. People here knew of you, but they didn’t know you at all. Not really.

Maybe you don’t know yourself either.

“Y/N!”

Once again, a voice pulled you from your own thoughts and into your party again. From afar you noticed Calum’s wide smile as he headed toward you, pushing through the sea of people.

The only ones you know here in L.A are the ones that got away years before you did and were creating havoc among the younger fans. 5 Seconds of Summer was an absolute hit, and they were barely staying at the same place for more than four weeks straight, but you were thankful anytime they did. They were your friends or at least acquaintances except for Ash. They reminded you of home, and one person, in particular, reminded you that there was more than that to hang on to.

“Cal!” You called, hugging him as soon as he came close “I’m so glad you could make it. I have no idea who any of these people are! Where are the others?”

Calum shrugged “Michael got dragged by someone already. Luke… is complicated”

“And Ash?”

You didn’t want to sound hopeful. You didn’t want to give anything away with the tone of your voice or the way your eyes begged you to look around for him, see if he just got lost among the crowd.

“He said he’d come” Calum said, pretending not to know how you feel “You know how he is. Sometimes he says one thing…”

“To change it at the last minute.” You sighed “I hate that about him”

“It’s Ashton”

“I asked him to come and help me with the recording of some drums at the studio last week, did he tell you?” He shook his head “He said that what I was doing “wasn’t really his thing” so maybe I should just call someone else”

“He said that to you?” Calum said in disbelief.

You nodded “He’s been a real asshole lately. And I did get someone else in the end, but…”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s the principle”

But it was not just that. The Ashton you met at school was not the same Ashton you found as an adult. And yes, people are bound to change and you have changed a lot as well, but looking back it makes you question whether this person made changes to keep themselves in your life or to make themselves a memory of what once was a good old time. And you were scared Ashton could become the latter.

For many years, Ashton was the only one by your side, or at least that’s what you knew of. When he left for London all those years ago, you were happy that he could chase all those dreams he once shared with you in your backyard as little kids. But once you caught on with life and fate decided that it was time to meet again, it was like there were already so many people beside him that you felt out of frame. You were his friend first. But maybe he forgot.

“Ooop, he just texted” Calum chimed in, sipping on his drink “He’s right outside, I told him we’re hiding in the kitchen”

You chuckled as your fingers drummed nervously on top of the counter, trying your hardest not to look at the door. Not yet, don’t let him see you waiting for him. Just one moment more-

“What the fuck?”

Calum’s whisper made your eyebrows turn into a frown as you followed his gaze. Oh, how you wish you didn’t.

Entering your kitchen filled with people was Ashton, a smile so shy and welcoming at the same time, hand in hand with one of the most gorgeous girls you’ve ever seen in your life. Your smile flattered for one second.

“I guess he’s not with Jess anymore…” Muttered Calum. Jess? Who was Jess? And who was this girl if Calum didn’t know?

Your heart grew heavy as the air around you thickened, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. From afar, Ashton noticed you - or he noticed Calum, you didn’t know - and raised his hand to say hi and kept walking into another room with his new girl following him.

That’s it? Not even a proper hello? This is your house, your party… A sunken feeling enveloped you as you excused yourself to the bathroom, ignoring the pointed look Calum gave you as he let you go without asking questions.

The music was muffled inside the tiled walls. You locked the doors and went to the sink, leaning over it with your hands on either side of the counter. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you counted to ten over and over again, repeating to yourself that you were okay. You were okay, or you would be. You had to be.

As you raised your head, the mirror showed the reflection of a girl whose eyes beat red from tears she refused to shed. You could not be that girl tonight.

So you smiled at your reflection, practicing what muscle memory taught you good girls do when things don’t go their way. You smiled and fixed your hair, and smiled again. It didn’t matter that the image that kept playing inside your head was his hands tangled in hers. It didn’t matter that he didn’t even say hello. This was not about him nor your broken heart. You had to keep going so you had to smile. It’s not the first time it happened, you should be used to it by now.

One last deep breath and you opened the door, going back to the party. But as you made your way back into the kitchen, you bumped into someone going in the opposite direction.

“Woah! Hey, Y/N!” He said, smiling as he hugged you like he used to do.

For a moment you let yourself forget where you were and be hugged by him, letting the smell of his cologne be tattooed somewhere in your brain.

“Hi, Ash”

“How- hey, are you crying?”

“What?” You blinked a couple of times “Oh, no! One eyelash fell into my eye and I had to get it out, you know how that makes me-”

“Yeah, you get weirded out by eyes” He cringed.

An awkward silence set between the two of you, not knowing what to say now that is just the two of them. But you… Oh, you could say so much, you just didn’t know where to start. You wanted to ask about the tour, how it went and what was his favorite place to visit. You were dying to mention their new songs and how they made you feel. You wanted to ask about his family, how is Anne-Marie? Is Harry doing well in school? Has Lauren started high school yet and how does she like it? Do they still live in the same house you grew up with? Do they know the memories you shared? Do they even remember you?

Does Ash?

But standing in front of him you felt as if you had no right to ask those questions anymore. Ashton was not looking at you anymore, but at his phone, even when you were right there. Does he not have any curiosity toward you as much as you have about him? Does he not care?

You used to be best friends. You still were, right?

Yet, those questions were never asked as you just turned and kept walking. And when you looked back you noticed that Ashton hadn’t moved, hadn't noticed you were gone.

And if while you were looking you noticed some freshly made hickeys on the back of his neck, then you decided to ignore that as well.

(3:07 PM) me: saw two kids in a backyard playing mermaids with a sprinkler today. we never had that idea before (6:20 PM) ash 😜: i would've never consented to mermaids, mind you (6:30 PM) me: are you sure? (6:32 PM) ash 😜: nah, i would end up with a tail in the end (6:40 PM) me: do you miss it?

* From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I waited ages to see you there I search the party of better bodies Just to learn that you never cared

25 years old

“Why am I not surprised?” Ashton laughed.

You didn’t notice his presence until he was standing in between you and the firepit in the backyard. He was wearing a shirt and a trenchcoat, lightly mocking your shivering figure as you sat outside on the last night of 2019.

“I don’t like parties” You answered.

“You never did,” Ashton said, sitting next to you “But that doesn’t give you the right to catch hypothermia”

“We live in L.A”

“Still,”

“I’m practicing”

“For what?” Ashton chuckled.

“Scotland,” You said, turning to look at him.

“Scotland? You’re gonna visit someone there, or?” He smiled, nervously.

“I’m moving there”

Ashton laughed loudly, “Bullshit!”

But you didn’t laugh along with him. Instead, you looked at him as the penny dropped and then moved your gaze to the fire again, finding comfort in the chaos. The only constant thing in your life.

Ashton blinked at you, elbowing you “You’re bullshiting me, Y/N”

You didn’t move, instead, you answered him in a monotone voice “Why would I?”

“What the fuck are you going to do in Scotland?!”

“The same, I guess?” You shrugged “I bought a house with a studio, my label has a branch there, I don’t do much touring so-”

“Were you going to tell me?!”

At this, you turn to him, almost as if to ask if he was serious.

“It’s not funny, Ash”

“The fuck is not! Of course not!” He shouted, getting up from his seat. The frown on his face deepened “You’re fucking moving away and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh. Like, actually, wholeheartedly laugh. Tears were at the corners of your eyes by the end of the laughing fit, even more so when you saw Ashton’s confused face standing in front of you.

Once you composed yourself, you shook your head.

“You can’t be serious right now”

“Y/N-”

“Honestly, Ashton. This- this is not funny, at all” You said, smile still on your face but your eyes getting redder as the tears gathered “You can’t- You can’t just come around every two years or so with a conversation and then yell at me and say that we’re friends as if you know what that means. No. Not with me, I- I won’t let it happen anymore”

You shook your head as a chuckle escaped your lips. “Ashton, tell me, right now. What’s the name of my cat?” He parted his lips but no words came out “What’s the name of my latest single?” Again, no answer “What’s the career I studied in uni before I came to the states?” By now, Ashton was looking down in shame “Ash, when is my birthday?”

That last answer broke your heart completely. You were hoping, wishing that at least that one he would get right. But his silence only confirmed what your heart knew. You closed your eyes as the tears finally slid down your cheeks, tired of being kept hidden all those years.

“Y/N-”

“No,” You raised your hand to stop him from saying anything else, “If it’s an apology I don’t want to hear it because it’s a little too late for that. Ashton, you have no idea what is like to have no one in your corner, and I pray that you never get to experience that. But all my life- all my life I’ve been waiting to be someone’s priority and when I finally put myself first, you come and try to berate me for it. I hate L.A. I had since the moment I came here. You had Calum, Luke and Michael, and countless other people to make you feel welcomed! but me? I had no one!”

All the feelings that were silenced over the years came crashing through. Unfiltered and uncensored. Like the fire in front of you, ready to spread out.

“And I tried to fit in. When I invited you and the guys and all of your friends, I wanted to make you feel that maybe I can still be part of this life as well! But they aren’t my friends, they’re yours. And you made no effort to even include me in your life as if I was someone that you tolerated from the past that’s long dead and gone. You have my memories, Ash. You have the same scars that I do, the same laughs, and the same tears from when we were kids till we were out of high school. We shared the same dreams and even though I knew you would make them more easily I prayed to god to take me where you would go because I knew that my place was with you, it didn’t matter where or how. I just wanted to be with my best friend, even if with time my best friend didn’t want to be my best friend anymore”

“Y/N,” His voice was small, fragile “That’s not true”

“Don’t lie!” You yelled through the tears “You’re being mean, Ash! You left me behind. You left me! And I’m still here, I was always here and you couldn’t see me, or you didn’t want to see me. You didn’t care! Could you look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t know everything that was going on when we were kids?”

Ashton tried to keep his gaze up with yours but couldn’t, quickly looking away with guilt. You pressed your lips in a thin line as you nodded.

“I loved you, so so much. And I hate you for making me feel so unloved, so small and unimportant. I don’t think I can shake this now, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for making me hate myself this much when I did nothing to you”

You knew your words hurt him, but there was nothing you could say to take them back. You didn’t want to take them back.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and started walking back to the party, ready to ask an uber to drive you home.

Ashton didn’t follow, you knew he wouldn’t. And for the first time in years, you were glad he didn’t.

* (05:25 AM) Ashton Irwin: can we talk, please?

This number has been blocked from your contacts

* ‘Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned Everything you lose is a step you take So make the friendship bracelets Take the moment and taste it You've got no reason to be afraid

28 years old

“You’re on your own kid, you always have been” You sang the last part of the acoustic set of your last album as the crowd went wild. You smiled at the small room, just a small acoustic session to start off the new era of songs about growth and finding yourself again after years of learning how to heal.

“There are many things in life that leave scars, things that we automatically assume about ourselves like muscle memory,” You said into the mic “For years we look for who to blame, and most of the time we carry that blame within ourselves and make ourselves believe that we are not worthy of beautiful things in the world. But I learned that even though these wounds and scars are mine, they don't own me as a person, they do not define me nor who I will become later in life. None of us are less deserving of love or the beautiful things in life just because we’ve struggled. And I-”

The words are stuck inside your throat for a moment, just a moment as your eyes make contact with the person standing in the corner of the room.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his smile is timid and a bit scared. But his eyes, although mature, kept that hazel glow that you’ve recognized anywhere. Even when years have passed.

“I will make my best to remind you how beautiful you all are” * * Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @wastelandcth @bubblegum183 @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @in-a-world-of-fandoms @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @hfkait @savagejane1 @youneedtocalumdown @pvnkcloud @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore@alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththatt @cncoangelsss @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @lendeluxe

[moon-heart22]

Captured

Warning: Minors do Not interact, brutal death, killing, smut

It's strange how life can change so quickly without you even realising it.

I wanted to spend my holiday alone. I have never liked being around people, so it was only logical that I chose my grandparents' house in the middle of the forest. It was old, but it had everything I needed.

On the way there, my friend called me and asked me if I really wanted to be alone in the forest. To be honest, that might be scary for some people, but I told her I was fine and would call her if anything happened. She did not seem pleased and hung up after a while of talking.

I reached my grandparents' house and opened the front door. The door cracked as I opened it and a familiar smell hit my nose. I have missed being here so much, it feels like my grandparents are still here looking after me. It's been a year since they died mysteriously and no one knows what happened. Their bodies have never been found and there is no sign that they are really dead.

I close the door behind me and shake my head. Everything is still where it was on my last visit last year, before they disappeared. My grandmother's old books are gathering dust and I have to smile. She collected so many random books like a book dragon. Grandma read a lot, but never really because she was so anxious to get more books.

One book catches my eye. "Deities and Creatures"

I pick it up and run my fingers over the cover, which is strangely not as dusty as the other books on the shelf. I get goose bumps, but I shake off the feeling. I put the book back and concentrate on making myself comfortable.

Soon it's 9 pm and I am sitting on the couch watching TV. I used to watch TV with my grandmother, while my grandfather always complained that we should spend more time outside instead of in front of the TV. I often find myself wishing I had spent more time with them, but I can not help it now.

I get hungry and get up when I suddenly hear a loud bang from outside. A strange feeling creeps over me, but I ignore it. It must have been an animal or something else. I am in the house, I am safe. At least that's what I tell myself over and over again.

I am now standing in the kitchen eating a sandwich. I have already forgotten about the loud bang and am just concentrating on the food. A bad habit I had was eating, eating when I am feeling bad, scared, stressed…

My gaze goes to the kitchen window and I have the feeling that I am being watched. Once again I shake my head and try to shake off this strange feeling and take a deep breath. It's just nothing. Everything is fine, I am safe. I whisper to myself again and again. I decide to close the curtains on the kitchen window. My heart almost stops when I see white eyes light up, which disappear again as I get closer to the window.

I immediately draw the curtains and place my hands on my chest. My heart races and I try to think of something else, hoping it will distract me. It does not and I run to all the windows and doors to make sure they are closed. Luckily for me, they are and I take another deep breath.

Then I hear a knock and someone shouts. I feel my heart stop and the blood in my veins run cold. "Help me! Help me!" the voice screams and I hold my breath. I run back into the kitchen and grab my butcher's knife. I slowly approach the front door and my lips part, but I can not muster the strength to speak.

"Please…" the voice sounded like a man and I walk closer to the door. My heart is racing and I finally manage to speak. "Who are you? What happened to you?" my voice shakes as I speak and I hear the man inhale sharply. He seems to be injured because he is groaning in pain. "I got hurt, please help me," he sounds desperate, almost pleading.

I stand in front of the door and lean my ear against it. I do not really know what I am trying to achieve, but I listen. "I have a knife, so if you try anything or lie, you are dead," I warn him and he grunts in response. I unlock the door and open it. He rushes in and is wounded in the chest. I pull him into the house and lock the door again.

"Thanks, I thought you wouldn't open the door," he whispers and looks me in the eye. His eyes are brown and he looks dirty, as if he hasn't washed for a long time. "If you try anything stupid, I'll hurt you," I threaten and he chuckles. There are deep cuts on his arm and on his chest too. I help him to sit down on the couch, my knife still in my hand.

"You know, I'm kind of scared of you. When you hold the knife like that, I think you want to stab me," he chuckles and leans back as he closes his eyes. I still have the knife with me and go to the first aid kit. I start to clean his wounds and bandage them. "How did this happen?" I ask him and sit down on the chair opposite the couch.

He lets out a sigh and touches his arm. He licks his lips and opens his eyes again to look at me. They glow white for a brief second and then immediately turn brown again. It happens so quickly that I don't think much of it.

"I was attacked by a creature, a shame I…" he pauses before he finishes the sentence and shakes his head. He yawns and rubs his eyes. "If you don't mind, I want to sleep now," is all he says before closing his eyes and falling asleep on my couch.

I shake my head anoyed and walk to my bedroom and lock the door. I call my friend and tell her everything that happend today. "You're crazy no way i am letting you alone! I come and get you," she says and stops the call before i can say anything.

I try to sleep, but I can't because I hear a loud crash from the kitchen. I immediately sit up in my bed and look for the butcher's knife. Crap. When I went into my bedroom, I must have forgotten to take it with me. I reach for my phone, unlock my bedroom door and walk into the kitchen.

I hear growling and as I leave, the floor cracks and the growling stops immediately. I freeze and listen, my heart races in my chest and I hold my breath. When I finally pluck up the courage to go into the kitchen, I see the strange man standing there. He's smiling at me, his mouth is full of sauce and he's holding a sausage in his hand.

"What the hell! You scared the shit out of me, you ass!" I shout angrily and try to snatch the sausage out of his hand. He backs away and barks at me. His teeth seem strangely sharp and I pause in my movements. "I was hungry … and don't call me an ass. Call me Adrian," he growls strangely and I look at him angrily.

I want to throw him out of the house, but when I look at him, I feel sorry for him. He looks like he's in pain and seems out of his mind. "Listen Adrian, this is weird, don't get me wrong, but you're scaring me. Could you please sit on the table. I don't mind if you finish eating. But please ask me before you take any food out of the fridge," I say, holding my nose.

I am tired and when Adrian sits down and chews on the sausage like a wild animal, I am disgusted. He seems to have no manners at all and I feel not safe in his presence. I look at the fridge and the next shock runs through me. He really has rummaged through the whole fridge. There's a lot of food on the floor and I sigh. I go into the kitchen and start to tidy everything up.

When I am done, I take a wet cloth and walk towards Adrian. He's still busy eating and startles me. It's as if I am not even here. As I approach him, he finally seems to notice me and looks up. His eyes meet mine and a scream catches in my throat. His eyes are white, his teeth are razor-sharp and instead of fingers he now has claws.

Just at that moment, I hear a loud knock on my door. "Hello, open the door! I swear to God, I will break the door if you do not open it!" my friend shouts. Adrian growls and warns me not to open the door. But I am scared and the first thing I do is run. I run to the door, open it and jump into my friend's arms.

"We have to go!" I shout, grab her hand and run to her car. My friend follows me without complaining and she starts screaming when she sees what's running after us. I do not dare turn around, but the screams and the animalistic noises the creature makes are enough for me. We reach my friend's car and lock ourselves inside.

I feel like crying, and my friend starts crying as she tries to start the car. "We are going to die!" she screams and her car starts. I look outside and try to see where the creature is, but I can not see anything. As she drives off, we hear a loud crash and the car stops. "What was that?" she asks me, startled, and I look at her.

My friend holds my hand and I try to calm her down. "It's going to be okay," I whisper, holding back my tears. I am so scared that I can feel my heart racing in my ears. I look over her shoulder out the window and then I see it. Horns and white eyes staring straight at me. The creature's face is a skull and its claws are touching the window. I scream and my friend turns around and screams too.

The creature rips the door open and my friend and I start kicking the monster. It growls and screams angrily, grabs my friend by the foot and drags her out of the car. "No! Please!" she screams and grabs my hand, whereupon we are both pulled out. I cry and my friend starts screaming because the monster is biting her foot. "No! Let her go!" I scream and lunge at the monster. It growls and pushes me to the ground.

"If you do this again, you will be dead next," the creature growls in a strangely familiar voice. Holy shit. Of course it's Adrian. Why do I have to be so stupid and let monsters into my house. I will think about it later, if I get out of here alive. I kick Adrian, or at least I think I do, I am not sure, and he growls again.

"Die you sick fuck!" I hear my friend scream and she hits him in the face with a stone. His skull makes a cracking sound and he gets off of me, only to attack my friend and bite into her throat. I see her trying to free herself and she crys. Then he rips of her head. "No! You bastard", i scream and run towards him punching his back.

He growls again and pushes me down on the ground. Blood drips down on my face from his skull and he opens his mouth. A bloodied tongue darting out and licking of the blood from my face. I already feel dead. I wish he would kill me and end this fucking horror show but he doesn't. He smiles down at me when he cleaned my face.

"Get up. Go back into the house", he demands and gets of off me. I crawl away and see him starting to eat my friend. "No!", i scream and want to throw up. He turns around and looks angry at me. "I wouldn't say it again", he warns me. I cry and somehow make it back to the house. I feel so sick and throw up on the porch.

I cry and all i want to do now is to die. How could this happen. I think about Adrian or whatever he is eating my friend right now and i nearly vomit again. Something inside me starts to burn and i guess it's anger. I get up my legs shaking and i lock the door behind me. I am going to killl this fucking creature. I search for the butcher knife and while i do i hear loud knocking comming from the front door.

"Open up little mouse," Adrian growls. He sounds angry. Well i am also angry. I don't answer and the knocks turn into banging. "Open the fucking door! Don't make me more angry mouse," he warns me. I find my butcher knife and get to the door. "No, please don't be angry. I...will open the door," i whisper and hold my butcher knife up. I only have one change and i don't give a shit anymore.

Adrian sounds happy and probably thinks he has wone. When i open the door, he is normal human looking but covered in blood. I scream and stab him with the knife. He screams and pushes me into the house. "That was a mistake little one," he growls and changes. Horns and a skull are now there instead of his face and instead of his fingers claws.

He pulls the knife out of his chest and throws it to the ground. I try to get up but he is faster and pushes me down. "I wanted to do this differntly but it seems like i have to teach you how to behave," he chuckles and there is a dangerous under tone in his voice. His claws travel down my curves and i automaticly clench my thighs together.

"What the fuck do you want from me," i whimper and look up into his white eyes. His horns are brown and when i look closer at him he also has white fur. Around his neck are necklaces made out of wood. His claws dig into my thighs and he presses my thighs appart and puts my legs around his waist. "I want to eat you," Adrian whispers huskily and licks over my face. I look away and start to cry wich makes him laugh.

His snout nudges against my cheek and he licks over my cheek again. "Don't worry. Not in that way," he chuckles and licks over my cheek again. He rips my pants appart and i start to kick with my feet. "No! No you're not going to touch me!," i start to scream and whimper. He holds my feet down and snarls. He bites down on my shoulder as a warning and i stop to kick around. Only then he lets go and licks over my shoulder.

"I hate you Adrian! I hope you die!," i spit into his face and he only chuckles. His claws brush over my thighs and he rips of the rest of my clothes leaving me complitly naked infront of him. "I am so glad you're grandparents were ready to promise you to me. It's not like they had a choice though," he chuckles and his one hand holds my face while his other holds my hips. He licks down my chest over my nippels and over my lower belly. Dangerously close to my crotch.

My mind races and i whimper. I try to clench my thighs together and i want to bite his hand. I hate him so much and my grandparents would never do this. They loved me right? It makes him chuckle and he starts to part my folds. "Little mouse, you have to calm down. It will hurt if i can't prepare you like i should," he whispers huskily and his long tongue licks over my core.

I hate this feeling and it only seems to incite him even more. I hold my mouth closed to not make any sounds but my body betrays me. I feel my legs twitch and my core getting wet. I feel dead inside and want this to be over. Adrian growls happily while abusing my pussy with his tongue. My hatred for him only grows and i am not even sure if i am really here. I start to think like this is a nightmare.

He gently bites down on my clit and i whimper. "Did that hurt little mouse?," he ask sarcastically and his tongue pushes into me. I scream and start to fight back again. I feel my climax aproaching and my head is spinning. My hands grab his horns and he groans. My legs shake uncontrollaby and i reach my climax. He licks me clean and moves up to face me again. "Didn't that feel good my little mouse," he asks me and i feel his bulge pressing against me.

I feel so weak, so tired. When i don't respond to him he nudges me with his snout. "Did i make you cum so hard that you're tired now? Well i guess i let you sleep for now," he whispers and pulls me up and presses me against him. Adrian carries me to my bedroom and lays me down on the bed. He licks over the bite mark on my shoulder and smiles. The last thing that i see before i fall asleep are his brown eyes that look into mine and the last thing that i feel is him strocking my cheek.

I hope you enjoyed the story. I don't know if I can do a second part and please forgive me for my spelling mistakes. English is not my first language

[tj-crochets]

So, some backstory. I have been trying to get the measurements to make this curtain (and the second, yet to be made curtain) for my grandma for three months. I finally got the window measurements when my mom went to visit her for her birthday, and my mom said to add a few inches to the window measurements to make sure the curtains fully cover the windows. I sent my grandma this picture, and she called me to tell me I “hadn’t accounted for billowing” and that curtains need to be much wider than windows so they can billow??? I talked her into accepting this curtain as-is so she can try it and see how much wider she wants the final curtain, and then I can use the ratio of the first curtain to the replacement to figure out the dimensions of the curtain for the second window

The curtain for my grandma’s door is almost done!! All I have to do is sew closed the opening for turning, wash it, and get it in the mail to my grandma

[crypticjackal13]

do you know about the Ben 10 alien called Anodite Ben and Gwens Grandma is an Anodite and I was wondering if you could do a Wukong x Anodite fem reader One shot were Wukong meets the reader after she crashes on earth injured and helps her out and develops feelings for her

I had to do a bit of research about ben10 for this but I think I've got it? If nothing else, we have a lovely alien reader x Wukong :)

"In Which My UFO Crashes and Insurance Won't Cover it" (688 wc)

Wukong x Fem!Anodite!Reader

Romantic Oneshot

Pronouns: she her

CW: uhh none I believe?

With the world in a state of relative peace, it was perfectly reasonable in the Monkey King’s mind to take a night to stay in and relax. He treated himself to the activity of building a small fire and making s’mores. Some other monkeys had gathered around just to chill with him as the sun set and the brilliance of the stars and moon could be seen by all.

That is, until a large saucer looking thing crashed into the forest nearby on the island. Wukong told the monkeys to go wait in the water curtain cave so he could go investigate.

Smoke was almost everywhere, however he could see a figure frantically trying to wave it all away and put out any fires. Wukong stepped on a twig by accident, causing the figure to look up. Now he could see—she wasn’t human. Her hair was in one large ponytail that seemed to be glowing. The rest of her was a more purple color. But she didn’t have any real discernible features.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” She called out. She was holding a screwdriver in a threatening way, but he was far from intimidated.Slowly he stepped out from his hiding spot behind a tree.

“Hey, uh, what are you doing on my mountain?” Wukong asked. She pointed at what he assumed to be the engine of her ship.

“I crashed. I don’t mean any harm or anything, I just need to fix this and I’ll be out of here.”

“No offense but I don’t think the engine is the only thing that needs fixing.”

They both looked at the ship. Dents and scratches galore, with many of the small lights either flickering or out and the windows broken in. She sighed.

“Ugh. Just what I needed.” She got back to work and ignored him. He stayed where he was, just observing.

“So…where are you from?”

“If you must know, I’m from the planet Anodyne.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. Wukong saw this as a perfect pun opportunity.

“I’ll tell you what, no matter what planet you’re from, you’re out of this world.”

She paused.

“…Was that a flirt?”

He hesitated. Was that a positive tone or the kind of tone that meant that he was about to be slapped into next week?

“It could be?..”

“You know what, I’ll take it.” She shook her head with a laugh. “My name is y/n. What’s yours?”

“I’ve got a lot of titles and names…think you wanna hear all of them?”

She seemed to smile. “We have nothing but time.”

He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “My name is Sun Wukong, the Handsome Monkey King and the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!”

“That’s certainly a mouthful. Are the Handsome Monkey King and Great Sage parts silent?”

“Well, the handsome part is kind of a given.” He waggled his eyebrows. Y/n laughed again, and as she moved away from the engine, it roared to life. The lights shone and smoke stopped coming out of it. Fully functional…except in appearance.

“Oh, good! It’s working again!” He cheered for her. She wiped her brow—did she have one??—and the tools she had in front of her dematerialized. He had barely noticed they were made of pure energy.

“I should get going, then. Get this repaired so I can travel in style again.” Y/n said.

“You’re leaving?” His expression dropped. “Will you come back?”

“I can come back and visit,” she took one of his hands and he blushed. “If you’ll have me, Handsome Monkey King.”

“Yeah! N-No pressure or anything!” He acted like it was no big deal, but he wished he could enjoy how soft her hands were on his own for forever.

“I’ll make an effort to stop by. I promise.”

She used her magic to get the ship itself out of the dirt and into its standing position, and then she climbed inside. He waved at her as the UFO took off and disappeared into the inky sky.

For an extraterrestrial encounter, he thought, it wasn’t like the stories that people told.

[jungle-angel]

24. “Man, this tea could knock out a bad illness in one go”

With early morning Nat trace my forever bi awakening!

(rings the little diner bell with the order) ONE NUMBER 24 COMING UP!!!! (lol).

Bozeman, MT

Spring, 2023

You had been up for a while, rifling through the fridge for the breakfast ingredients while "Shamballa" by Three Dog Night played from your little bluetooth speaker on the counter, the soft yellow glow of the morning becoming more so as it threaded together with the yellow gingham of the curtains in the kitchen window. You looked over to the small table in the dining room, the table that had photos of Nat's grandparents, her grandpa in his dress blues and her grandma in her nurse's uniform. The incense and flowers would most likely need to be replaced later, but it could wait until after breakfast.

The meow of the old tabby cat you two had taken in, suddenly caught your attention, shooing her away before she had a chance to steal whatever food you'd be making that morning. Out of the fridge came the eggs, the fresh pepper slab bacon and thick grainy barley bread, all packed with seeds and grain and as black as could be. It wasn't long at all before the kitchen was full of the tantalizing smells of eggs, bacon, toast and some of your fresh, homemade tea, nor was it long before you heard tired groans and heavy feet coming down the stairs.

"Mornin sleepyhead," you chimed as you cracked another egg and threw it in the cast iron pan on the stove. "Bacon or steak with the eggs this morning?"

"Pepper slab bacon, heavy on the pepper," Natasha answered, her nose plugged up beyond all human reasoning. One very unladylike snort told you it was that time of the year again.

"Here," you told her. "Drink this, it'll make you feel better."

You handed Natasha her favorite mug full of a delicious looking brown liquid which she promptly drank even though it was still steaming. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed as a bite of heat ran across her tongue, lips and into the back of her throat. "Baby what did you put in this?"

"Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, star anise, juice from a few blood oranges and some of those black dragon chilis that have been growing with my special fertilizer," you chuckled.

"Good grief," Natasha coughed, fanning herself from the heat of the chilis. Her eyes started watering uncontrollably and her nose had begun to run like a sieve. "Man this tea could knock a bad illness out in one go."

A few coughs from her and a small laugh from you signaled that the food was ready. Once she had her plate in front of her, Nat dug right in, still shuddering a little from the spicy tea. "I think I'm gonna end up blowing through a whole gallon of milk again," she joked.

"Oh no you don't," you warned her. "Until this clears, no cheese, no yogurt and definitely no milk."

Natasha groaned in exasperation. In your house it had become common to blow through a gallon of milk in less than a week, leaving the rest of the Daggers to go and get it from the farmers' markets or the store which was almost an hour away.

You kissed her cheek playfully. "I'm only doing this because I love you," you chuckled. "Now drink your tea and eat your food, Bagman apparently needs help with a calf that's gonna come at any hour."

"Yes dear," Nat half laughed, returning the kiss.

[callialire]

5 Stages of Grief

These words were mostly inspired by my little sister complaining how I never stop talking about the stages of grief. So, without further ado…

The 5 Stages of Grief

Stage 1. Casseroles and Door Dash Gift Cards

The way to the heart is through the stomach… or something like that. So, it makes sense that a full stomach heals a broken heart. So you buy paper plates and plastic forks and you eat yourself sick of fast food in foil containers that’s your neighbor bought you. And you’re grateful because there are no dishes and you’re still just alive enough to need to eat. But, at the end, your stomach is full but your heart is laid out next to you, still in too many pieces to count. Your stomach is full and you’re still feeling empty. And now you owe your neighbor a thank you card. Oh, and he’s still dead. Right?

Stage 2. Your Little Sister Wants to Fist Fight You in a Parking Lot

You can’t say anything funny and you can’t say anything sad. You can’t be helpful, you can’t be bitter. Because somebody gave the 15 year old a knife and she aims to draw blood. Because you want to plaster everybody in Band-Aids and ACE bandages and you’ve got boxes of tissues and if you slow down for a minute or a second or a breath and a blink, you’ll start crying and you’ll never stop. But she, previously all linen and light, now of steel and stone, she wants to yell. She wants to beat the earth to dust and she is mad and she doesn’t know why and she can’t stop even if she tried— which she totally isn’t trying. So you don’t say anything funny or sad, you stand there vibrating at low frequency while she throws her rocks and stomps her feet because her chest aches just like yours.

Stage 3. You Learn How to Fold a Fitted Sheet

Your mom cries and she wants the towels in the hall closet. But, the hall closet has light bulbs and old curtains and an air mattress with a leak. The towels don’t fit because they haven’t had a place there in 9 years. So, you pull it all out. And you throw away the clutter. You work pillow cases into perfect little squares, you find a bag of saltines. And you learn how to fold fitted sheets. It takes 45 minutes and you think this might be what actually breaks your spirit until you’re looking down at the neat rectangle in your hands and never before has a bed sheet made your heart squeeze like that.

Stage 4. Queue the Crisis of Faith

You and God— it’s never been the best. It’s not that he doesn’t try, you always think, you’re just a young woman of show and not just tell. You think he’s still up there but, it’s safe to say the two of you don’t talk very often. Maybe you should. He always did. But, you do then. For two weeks, you beg and you plead and you scream into the front windshield of your car. You call in a favor from you grandma (another reason you’re not on great terms because what the fuck was that). You talk to him in line at the grocery store, while you lay in bed with your daughter. You tell him that you need this one, you need this win. You promise not to need anything ever again. You read the Bible. He dies anyways, still singing holy praise. What the fuck is that about?

Stage 5. It Ends the Same Anyways

You know he’s dead. You go to sleep and he is dead. He’s still dead when you wake up. You play the last two weeks over and over again. He dies again and again. It is inevitable, it’s already spoken into the air. Air he doesn’t breathe because he is dead. You look for smiles he’ll never throw your way again. You listen for sounds you’ll never hear again. You wait with fingers knotted in fear you’ll never feel again, because he is at peace. He rests and you breathe, in and out with lungs that feel broken. He is woven into the wood grain and the popcorn ceilings and the chipped paint now. It ends this way every night, it starts this way every morning. He is dead, maybe one day, that will stop being a surprise. Not today, though. Not tonight. But, soon. He would never let you hurt forever.

[zenoiredottore]

Hoyofam at home – brainrot headcannons

ZZZ

a baby

is currently being potty trained

Likes to help with the more pleasant chores

Starting to grow silver/gray hair like wise

Hogs the big screen tv and forces everyone to watch starlight knight with them.

T O Y  G U N S

NOT an ipad kid,, more of a tv kid since they like watching movies sm

The coolest kid's room you will ever see. there are a lot of toys and plushies

Diaper only type kid at home

L O U D

Has a robot nanny that’s just kinda there cuz SR thought it’d be cool

an entire crew dedicated to clean up after him

Spends a lot of time with their siblings, often getting to play with new products

Makes a huge mess when eating

Has its own art studio, fridge-worthy pieces of art  

DO NOT let into your room if you have action figures/plushies.

Very fascinated by computer stuff.

When they grow up they’re going to be the designated tech guy of the fam.

Themis:

Prettiest room

The largest closet and bathroom

Has both a work desk and a vanity.

Has those curtain thingys on her bed [princess bed]

Very colorful but it’s mostly pink and white

Has a couple of shrubs

Make up and skincare galore

Likes baking and the kitchen always smells good

Softest bed ever

Has a seating area by her window, like sofia the first’s

Likes to go shopping with Hi3

Reuses luxury packaging like reusable plastic bags.

Often uses said packaging as trash bags

Sleeps like aurora [perfect hair, perfume, back flat on the bed]

Likes to put food and cleaning products into their own cute containers [she’s just that girl]

Hi3:

Room’s a bit messy

Wears glasses at home [like the thick framed red ones]

Grandma fit [Bestidas with the fuzzy slippers]

Eats ALLAT

The gym is her sanctuary  

Can lift the most weights out of everyone

Zero percent brain cells when at home

She works out in her bestidas lolol

“Don’t talk to me before I have my coffee:p” Ahhss…

I like to think that she’s supposed to be retired but she keeps getting called to the office

Spends her days relaxing [cuz god knows kiana needs rest and so does hi3]

Has motivational quotes framed and hung in the hallways, themis always takes them down.

Second biggest closet

Spends a lot of time at her workshop designing mech suits as she pleases without the company filling down her creativity

Takes zzz to go visit the others at work

Long list of things she wants to do during retirement

Def doing a lot of “childish” activities [like lazer tag, bouncy castle, go karts, ball pits] because she felt like she lost a huge chunk of her childhood working. And when she got a bit of free time to have more fun she had to take care of genshin and themis.

Hangs out at the pool almost every day.

At home spa

Has this soap opera that she watches at 3 pm every day and ZZZ joins her.

HSR:

GAMER room

Has all the games you can think of [arcade, pc, playstation, mobile, you get it]

Mixes gamer food together…

Regularly makes battery acid

Doritos every where

His bed is levitated and under his bed is like a treasure trove of game stuff [merch,tapes,disks]

Doesn’t let housekeeping in, scared that something might break or get deleted.

Room STANK and STICKY

his closet includes multiple copies of the same thing, aside from meme shirts that he occasionally buys online somewhere.

Spends a lot of the money he earns on online games

Wears graphic themed video game underwear

Has a claw machine in his room that he can’t get prizes off of.

Games all night and complains about how he’s too tired to go to work

His shower is DRY

I like to think that even if he doesn’t shower often, he’ll still brush his teeth

Naps immediately when he gets home and repeats the entire thing, learning absolutely nothing.

Actually enjoys his job but there’s only so much energy drinks in the world for him

Likes designing new characters and kits

Absolutely loves his fanbase

Genshin:

Often gets to work earlier than everyone else

But if he feels like going with his siblings he’ll impatiently wait for them and yell n stuff

Doesn’t drink coffee believe it or not [only monsters can go to work at 5 am without having any caffeine and I think this fits him very much

Sometimes goes out for dinner alone when he’s planning on working extra time at the office

The best cook out of all the siblings. [things that genshin just does the best]

Doesn’t cook often but if someone asks him to make something he’ll get it right on his first try 80% of the time

Has a pet horse

Almost never at home

Business trips abroad often

Seeing him in regular casual clothes is like seeing a unicorn.

Probably has a skin condition where if he’s touching cheap fabric he’ll have skin rashes

Handles and prepares live sea creatures for dinner way too casually.

Once killed a live chicken that was running around the house by throwing a skewer through its head

Doesn’t like cleaning and will have the help pick up after him… he’s just snobby like that

No social life outside of work and business related matters

ZERO friends

Ig PJR is kind of a friend but they’re more so rivals

Every day is bring ZZZ to work day.

Sends ZZZ back home whenever they start getting sleepy

Works at the hoyoverse building, same with Themis and SR and whenever he finishes early he’d go hangout with them a bit

Doesn’t work out but does a lot of outdoor activities

Wishes he has more of an outdoorsy job

Regular movie nights and family vacations together

Always spend time with each other on weekends, all of them. Hi3 says that there will be zero working on weekends. But even when he’s not working he’s still wearing suits. [Genshin breaks this rule a lot]

Closet filled with suits!!!

Owns way too many watches that he never uses to tell the time

Fancy tie clip collection

The shoes are DAPPER

His perfume collection makes me jealous

God I hate this jerk sm

Never uses his phone to look at social media [he never listens to his fan’s opinions…]

[hoodievixen]

With My Own Eyes - Part 6 - Full Moon (Dream of the Endless x OC)

Based off of this

Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.

Words Count: ~ 1.5 K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling, !Comic Spoilers!

A/N: It took me so long to write like the last thousand words. But I got it done. Happy Holidays!

Tag List:   @intothesoul @  poemfreak306  ​

Master List

Dream was concerned. Lily had yet to come greet him that morning. Lately, even if she had plans or if he was busy, she'd come to wish him a good day shortly after getting up. But it was late afternoon and Sibyl was no where to be seen. She had also turned in early the night before. Dream saught her out, wanting to assure she was safe.

Lily had yet to leave bed, however she was not asleep. She layed there stiffly, eyes squeezes shut, face scrunched into a scowl. "Are you unwell?" he softly ask. Clearly it was so, but he learned Sibyl was a bit unpredictable, so it's best to clarify.

"It's nothing new," she said softly, as if talking any louder would cause more pain. "Could you do me a favor and get rid of the light. I have a splitting headache."

It took Dream only a moment to close the blind, and for the ceiling to become something that didn't mimic the sky. What light there was was just the sunshine slipping through the gaps of the curtains.

Morpheus approached Sibyl, crouching down next to the bed to see her face. Her eyes had opened and was staring at him, though it didn't appear she was focusing her gaze on anything. "Is there anything else you wish for me to do?" he asked brushing stray hairs out of her face.

It appeared Sibyl was going to shale her head, but knew it better not to just moments before. "No," she answered simply. Lily hadn't moved a muscle since Dream arrived. She stayed in her stiff curled up position.

But her hands, tucked close to her chest were moving. Her fingers were slowly curling in only to slowly curl out. It a a methodical movement, matching her breath. This was something she was practiced in.

"May I ask what is ailing you?" Dream wondered. Healing was not one of his capabilities, but he was able to provide assistance in any way he could.

Her eyes slid closed once again. "Magic has a price, and this is mine to pay," she explained.

Dream thought back to the conversation he had last evening with Matthew. He had asked her to show him some magic. Other denizens of the Dreaming saw as well, and wanted to see more. Lily had spent most of the afternoon preforming magic. It was his people who cause her current condition, he would help how he could. "And what price might that be?" He needed to know what was wrong to be able to help.

"Pain," Sibyl said in a groan. "Pain and tightness in my joints and muscles, making it hard to move. It's never been this bad before."

If Dream had breath it would have been caught. He knew for human magic had a cost, but never knew how big a cost it would be. The witches get their magic from their connection to the nature around them. The nature of the dreaming was very different to the nature of the waking world. Surely preforming magic here would take a larger toll on the one preforming it. Had Dream realized this earlier he would have forbid her from doing Witchcraft. From letting herself get in such a state.

Morpheus slipped his hand into Sibyl's holding her fingers open. "Is the price always this steep?" he asked softly.

"It's the price I chose," the witch confessed, "My grandma lost her hearing and my aunt could no longer walk. I didn't care how hard anything got, as long as I didn't loose anything."

She was a stubborn human. "You chose to continue to pay a price you could have payed once?" Dream pointed out, almost scolded.

Lily let out a soft and painful laugh. "Hey, everyone going for subscription plans these days. I was just ahead of the trend." She curled her fingers into his, grasping at his hand.

Morpheus was amazed by the fragile hand curled around his own. "What can I do to help?" He kept his voice soft.

"I got it," Lily assured him, "I just have to stretch, it's just hard to start."

He let out a sigh in disappointment. "There is no harm in asking me for help," Dream reminded her, "There is nothing I shall ever hold over you."

Dream moved slowly and with gentle intentions. His one hand stayed curled with her's. His other slipped under her elbow, slightly prompting it up. "Stop me if it hurts," he told her, while slowly starting to bend her arm as her elbow.

Lily scrunched up her face and pressed her lips together. Though she showed no other signs of pain.

Dream held her arm at ninety degrees for a moment before slowly moving it back down. With the blanket now shifted off her arms he could see that she wore short sleeves, something she had yet to do around him. Dream saw all the tattoos that covered her arms, from quotes to little doodles she might come to regret. But what caught his attention the most was is own name, Dream of The Endless, Lily's soulmark.

Dream had almost forgotten the fact on that was what brought them together. He had come to enjoy and crave Lily's company. It felt like he had her around cause he wanted her there, not for the fact they were fated partners.

But it was still love. Something he has never had any luck in. Dream didn't want to loose Lily, and would do anything to assure he wouldn't.

Sibyl's finger grew tighter around his fingers. It was not a tight grip due to the weakness in her fingers, but it was stronger than before. Dream was reminded of what he was doing.

"I don't remember the last time I had someone do this," she confessed. "The last time someone helped. I always needed to deal with it on my own."

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

Just cause Sibyl could move did not mean she wanted to. She made herself shuffle about the room, stretching as she went. After enough movement she retrieved her jacket from where she ladt discarded it. She then flopped down onto the couch prepared not to move from that spot for a while. She started digging into her deep pockets. Why have a purse when you have pockets?

In the left pocket was her keys, spare headphones, a broken phone charger, an empty pack of gum, a receipt from grocery shopping from five months ago, as well as a pile of loose change.

"What are you looking for?" Morpheus asked upon seeing the pile of object taken from her jacket. He sat down a cup of tea I front of Sibyl.

"I keep a bottle of pain meds in here somewhere," she told him. Her right pocket held a half off coupon for canvases that expired the week before, a thin wallet for her cards and a few pound notes, a pack of tissues, a single pad, and a mini note book that was both torn and water stained rendering it practically useless.

Morpheus sat down on the other end of the couch. "I could have brought them to you," he pointed out.

Sibyl shook her head going to the pockets in the lining of her jacket. "I have a rule that I need to get the meds myself otherwise I'll take them and not move and get stuck in a visiohs cycle of doing nothing," she explained, pulling at the last few items. First was a small amulet to ward of curses, an amithyst, a few pressed flowers, the knife she had drawn at Morpheus at their first meeting, and, finally, a small white bottle with a fading label.

Sibyl was quick to take a pill, washing it down with the warm cup of tea.. She leaned back into the couch, letting the beverage's heat soak into her hands.

"How is your hand?" Morpheus asked. Lily noticed his attention was stuck in her knife. The same knife she used to cut herself to make the circle for the teleportation magic.

Lily looked down at the cup of tea surrounded by her hand. "Oh, it's fine," she shrugged, "I tend to heal pretty quickly for stuff like that.*

"If I may ask," he started, reaching for the lengthy dagger. "Why do carry around such a thing?" Morpheus pulled the blade from its leather cover.

Sibyl let out a soft groan. "Well it was a gift from a friend. It was her way of showing she cares. I'd tend to get myself into precarious situations, and she was familiar with my hesitence to preform magic, so she wanted me to have any other way out. One side is silver and the other side is iron, so it can hurt pretty much anything."

Dream returned the knife to where it once was. He had hoped it was just for a precaution, for worries and not because of things that had already happens. It wasn't so. It was nessicary for her. She needed another way to protect herself. Lily was human, who die so easily, where her magic causes her pain. He should always be there to protect her.