#I should have just taken that Wall Leak and moved on about the day *sniff* the FUCK is that smell

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Alright let's try to review the old man's news feed.

Riots....but not in the south

Self explanatory

A union Biden but they only do inside construction

What the fuck does that even mean?

[feysandandnyx]

The way Feyre feels about his abusive family will never be overlooked by the people who love, respect and understand this character.

When you feel lonely and isolated by your own family, we're not talking about a normal relationship

“How did you learn to bind wounds like this? I can still use the hand, even with the wrappings.”“Trial and error. I had to be able to pull a bowstring the next day.” He was quiet as we turned down another sun-drenched marble hallway, and I dared to look at him. I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. “Has anyone ever taken care of you?” he asked quietly. “No.” I’d long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it. “Did you learn to hunt in a similar manner—trial and error?”“I spied on hunters when I could get away with it, and then practiced until I hit something. When I missed, we didn’t eat. So learning how to aim was the first thing I figured out.”

I stalked to the nearest rosebush and ripped off a rose, my fingers tearing on the thorns. I ignored the pain, the warmth of the blood that trickled down. I could never paint it accurately—never render it the way those artists had in the gallery pieces. I would never be able to paint Elain’s little garden outside the cottage the way I remembered it, even if my family didn’t remember me. He didn’t reprimand me for taking one of his parents’ roses—parents who were as absent as my own, but who had probably loved each other and loved him better than mine cared for me. A family that would have offered to go in his place if someone had come to steal him away. My fingers stung and ached, but I still held on to the rose as I said, “I don’t know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn’t—shouldn’t feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.” The rose hung limply from my fingers. “All those years, what I did for them … And they didn’t try to stop you from taking me.” There it was, the giant pain that cracked me in two if I thought about it too long. “I don’t know why I expected them to—why I believed that the puca’s illusion was real that night. I don’t know why I bother still thinking about it. Or still caring.” He was silent long enough that I added, “Compared to you—to your borders and magic being weakened—I suppose my self-pity is absurd.”“If it grieves you,” he said, the words caressing my bones, “then I don’t think it’s absurd at all.”

He could find work if he wasn’t so ashamed, Nesta always said when I hissed about it. She hated him for the injury, too—for not fighting back when that creditor and his thugs had burst into the cottage and smashed his knee again and again. Nesta and Elain had fled into the bedroom, barricading the door. I had stayed, begging and weeping through every scream of my father, every crunch of bone. I’d soiled myself—and then vomited right on the stones before the hearth. Only then did the men leave. We never saw them again.

Tamlin must have realized it, too, for he loosed a long, controlled breath before moving to the next painting. Tall shadows of men, bright red dripping off their fists, off their wooden clubs, hovering and filling the edges of the painting as they towered over the curled figure on the floor, the blood leaking from him, the leg at a wrong angle. Tamlin swore. “You were there when they wrecked your father’s leg.”“Someone had to beg them to stop.”

Whenever she felt low in self-esteem, it was Nesta's condemning voice that Feyre heard, even to judge herself. This is not normal behavior.

“Feyre,” he repeated, and closed his eyes. My sisters had gone quiet, and I looked up in time to see Nesta crinkle her nose with a sniff. She picked at my cloak. “You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?” I didn’t let the sting and ache show. I’d been too young to learn more than the basics of manners and reading and writing when our family had fallen into misfortune, and she’d never let me forget it. She stepped back to run a finger over the braided coils of her gold-brown hair. “Take those disgusting clothes off.” I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark back at her. Older than me by three years, she somehow looked younger than I did, her golden cheeks always flushed with a delicate, vibrant.

It was too dim to admire any of the paintings lining the walls, and I didn’t dare risk a candle. These past three days, there had been servants in the halls when I’d worked up the nerve to look at the art—and the part of me that spoke with Nesta’s voice had laughed at the idea of an ignorant human trying to admire faerie art. Some other time, then, I’d told myself. I would find another day¸ a quiet hour when no one was around, to look at them. I had plenty of hours now—a whole lifetime in front of me. Perhaps … perhaps I’d figure out what I wished to do with it.

I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold—all spoken from Nesta’s mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice.

What do Know? Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” She stormed off, Elain darting after her, cooing her sympathy. They slammed the door to the bedroom hard enough to rattle the dishes. I’d heard the words before—and knew she only repeated them because I’d flinched that first time she spat them. They still burned anyway.

Most High Lords are trained from birth in manners and laws and court warfare. When the title fell to me, it was a … rough transition. Many of my father’s courtiers defected to other courts rather than have a warrior-beast snarling at them.” A half-wild beast, Nesta had once called me. It was an effort to not take his hand, to not reach out to him and tell him that I understood. But I just said, “Then they’re idiots. You’ve kept these lands protected from the blight, when it seems that others haven’t fared so well. "They’re idiots,” I said again.

- A Court of Thorns and Roses - Sarah J. Maas.

Feyre suffered psychological abuse by her family for years. Sarah can try to justify Nesta and Elain all she wants, but the way Feyre felt about it won't change.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 7 - Finale

Summary:

It all comes down to this. Will Frank be able to make things right?

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference, angst

Tag requests: @direwolfspostsrandomshit

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 Warnings: strong language, age difference, and references to depression like symptoms and past childhood trauma

Another hour passes. Another beer down.

The television drones on in the background while he stares right through it. Why is he even watching this? He hates TV.

He should be training today, maybe the gym or the firing range, but… He just doesn’t feel like it.

His stomach growls. He looks at the clock. He should get something to eat, but… He doesn’t feel like that either.

At last the cramping moves him to action, and sluggishly he gets up and wanders to the kitchen. He grabs his go-to as of late, a bag of chocolate chips for baking. His diet’s been such shit lately, and he knows it’s not helping. He hates that. And he loves it. Because right now he’ll do anything just to get even a flicker of feeling.

Good. Bad. He doesn’t care.

He just wants to feel.

It’s been a couple weeks since he last saw you, out back behind the CIA gym, and he’s been numb ever since. Mason’s been trying to bring him out of it all this time.

‘You did the right thing’, he says. ‘She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she’s doing’, and then, ‘If anything, you did her a favor. She doesn’t really want to get caught up like that with an old guy, right?’, he laughs.

He eats another handful of chocolate and looks down at himself. ‘She doesn’t want to...’ Is he really that repulsive? He runs a hand over his belly. It’s been feeling more rounded than usual.

Fuck.

For a moment, that same old burning, consuming flare of fury he’s so used to getting rises up. He grips the plastic bag so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

His discipline has been getting looser and his belt has been getting tighter, the polar fucking opposite of how things should be. His nostrils flare and lips draw back to reveal tightly clenched teeth, like a dog readying for an attack. Every muscle in his body tenses as he bores holes into nothing in particular. He starts to cock his arm back.

Throwing something will help him feel better.

Right?

He aims for the wall and winds up for an all star pitch, and then…

and then…

He can’t even muster the motivation for that.

As quickly as it came, the anger leaves, and as he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his entire body relaxes once more. What the fuck is wrong with him anyway?

What, mommy and daddy didn’t love him enough, so now he throws little tantrums whenever the fuck he feels like it? He mocks himself, feeling almost ashamed suddenly of all his outbursts, but when he thinks about it…

Yeah.

Maybe that...

He sighs, suddenly feeling extremely defeated and very alone. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised you left him. Everyone else who ever loved him did.

Woods drops the bag of chocolate from his limply hanging arm and watches the pieces scatter and roll all over the floor.

Whatever. He’ll eat something else.

This is how it’s been for weeks and this how it’ll be for the foreseeable future. He lazes around, completely numb to the outside world, grazing his pantry and doing anything to distract himself from his thoughts. If only any of it worked. Then at night he’ll lay awake well past midnight, until either regular exhaustion or exertion from shedding tears sends him to sleep.

But it wasn’t always like this.

After the first few days since he chased you off, he tried to make up for it.

He called.

He tried to see you at work.

He even sent you some fucking flowers and a letter.

Not a word back.

Well, aside from the ‘Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you fucking dare come back’ he got when he came to your office. After that one…

He hasn’t cried that hard over a woman in… Well… Ever.

And that’s what really gets to him, isn’t it? Just a woman. You’re just a fucking woman. There’s billions of others out there… And yet, he can’t manage to land even one, can he?

This message plays back in his mind over, and over, and over again.

Even now, as a slow stream of tears leak from his eyes to his pillowcase. He looks over just a few inches away to the empty half of his bed. Frank sniffs and swipes at his nose before gently plopping his hand on the pillow beside his. The fabric is icy cold against his skin.

You know, Alex told him once that he’ll lay in his wife's spot on the bed to warm up the sheets for her at night.

She hates the cold, and Alaskan nights are no joke. Would you like that? He wonders. He heard once that women are always fucking cold. He’d warm up your sheets for you, you know. Or maybe, you’d like a blanket? He’d get you one. A nice one! Fresh and new, not any of the tattered shit he keeps in his linen closet.

Or, maybe, you’d like it more if he just… Held you? He could keep you warm all by himself if you wanted him to. Would you even like him to?

Would that make you happy?

Would he make you happy?

A fresh round of tears breaks over him.

He closes his eyes and curls in on himself as he lets the sobs take over him. Damn it, he promised himself he wouldn’t do this again… He thinks about you far too much. All the time, really. And where does it get him? Somewhere about like he is now, he supposes.

He stews in his own wretchedness like this for quite some time, and it’s not until a few days later that anything changes.

Mason pounds on the door of the dingy little house, “Frank?”, he calls, “Frank, open up you bastard, I know you’re in there!”

Truthfully, he’s only in town on some work related business, but… He can’t just stand by and let his friend suffer like this.

So, he waits and waits, and pounds and pounds until he's sure the door is about to come off the hinges. Mason cups his hands to the crack of the door, shouting into it as loud as he dare, “I’m not leaving until you come out here asshole!”

At last, a quiet voice comes from the other side, “What do you want?”

For a moment, Mason is rather dumbfounded. Never before has he ever heard his friend sound so soulless. So… broken. He shakes his head, and pulls himself out of it, “Frank will you open up? I’m here to check on you man!”

Woods sighs, “Don’t waste your time”, the voice trails off as though he’s walking away.

“Hey!”, Mason pounds on the door again, “Son of a bitch, get back here!”

The door swings open abruptly, and Mason nearly falls over as the door’s taken out from him. He stumbles a moment, then catches himself as he stands up straight.

Mason locks eyes with his old friend, and Woods says nothing. Alex takes in the sight of him. His stubble is out of control, the bags under his eyes are dark and purple, and the undershirt he’s wearing could’ve used a wash about a week ago.

“Jesus…You look like shit”

“Thanks”, Woods replies flatly, “Now go away”

He makes to close the door, but Mason stops him, “Wait wait wait… Ok, I’m sorry, I just… Wow, um… Can I come in at least? Let’s talk about this”, Alex motions to Woods in his entirety.

“Do I have a choice?”

Mason pushes the door all the way open, letting himself in and taking his friend by the shoulders as he leads him further into the house, “No, we’re having a fucking intervention”

He leads him to the living room and clears a pile of clothes and trash off the cushions so they can sit down. Alex commands his friend to take a seat, then follows suit. Once they’re both settled, Mason grows serious but maintains a cautious, sympathetic veneer.

Mason rubs his hands together and gives it to him straight, “Look, I know you feel like you fucked up. I know you’re feeling lonely and it’s got you in the dumps. But… Come on man, look what’s been going on with you!”, He gestures to the living space around them.

Dirty laundry and neglected trash sit in little piles all around in a room that smells of old must with a faint, queasy scent of booze. “This is no way to live, buddy!”

Frank says nothing. Instead, he sits and listens without even attempting to make eye contact, like a child receiving a tiresome lecture.

Alex grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper in check. “So… What I’m trying to say is…. Maybe you need to get out of here, you know? Go to a game, take a vacation, something!”, he scoots a bit closer, taking on a more personal tone with his old friend, “I don’t want to see you destroy yourself like this Frank…”

Woods recoils at that, snapping to life as though he’d just now entered the conversation, “I’m not! I just… I need some time to get over this, alright!”

Mason casts an exaggeratedly doubtful look at the other man. Frank jumps to defend himself once more, but Alex cuts him off, “Ok ok! How about this, let’s you and me go out for a little bit huh? Have some beers, some guy time! I just want you to get out of this place for a little while, is that so bad?”

Frank grumbles a bit, but somewhere in there is an agreement. Mason cheers, "That's the spirit!", and drags his friend upstairs to clean up. He pushes him off to shave and shower before going downstairs to help himself to the kitchen.

It takes far longer than he anticipated, but Alex doesn’t go up to pressure the old Sargent even once. At last, the staircase creaks softly as Woods descends. He looks like a new man. Clean clothes, shaped up beard, and a gentle wafting of clean, musky shampoo emanating from him.

Woods walks up without much fanfare for himself, but Alex offers him a smile and a firm pat on the back, “There, now isn’t that better? You look great!”

Frank grunts and perhaps even mutters a thank you, but Mason is too busy trying to keep the momentum up. Once more, he drags his friend along and out to the car. The sun is starting to set and options for places to go are beginning to dwindle. Woods wonders where they’re going, and yet as the streets race by, he finds himself caring less and less.

By the time the car comes to a stop, he’s nearly fallen asleep.

Mason turns off the engine and shakes him awake, “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re just getting started!”

Woods snaps awake, but has to shield his eyes immediately. It seems impossibly bright out considering how late it is. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes. Once they're fully adjusted, he finds that what he sees does nearly nothing to alleviate his confusion.

Before him stands the front of a pulsating night club. Blue and purple neon blaze in the dusky twilight. He can only imagine how they must look in the dead of night. A pounding beat comes from somewhere within, no doubt the drum track to some popular, modern song. Small clusters of younger people and a handful of adults hang around the doors pregaming for what they must be anticipating to be a long, wild night.

The pair get out of the car, but Woods is bewildered all the while. When Alex finally comes around to him, he can’t keep silent any longer, “What the fuck did you bring me here for?”

Mason seems almost taken aback, “For some fun? Come on, I know this isn’t really your scene but maybe that’s exactly what you need! Something new and fun, right?”, he doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes his friend along as they head towards the entrance.

The air seems thick and hazy around him, a fact only highlighted by the glowing miasma created by the neon interior. If Alex wasn’t pulling him along, he’s sure he’d get lost.

Alex takes him over to a table buried back in the corner. They take a seat and despite being right across from each other, Mason nearly has to shout to be heard over all the noise, “Want a drink?”

Woods thinks about it for a moment, still taking in the environment as he does so. He’s trying to find the bar, and when he does he figures it’s impossible to miss. A huge back wall of glass bottles, all lit up by a halo of purple neon and cool fluorescent lights stands bright as a beacon behind a solid bar top and array of stools and customers.

“Sure, I can get my own”

“Great! Hey, grab my usual would ya? I’m gonna take a leak real quick”, he points over his shoulder and excuses himself as he makes for the restrooms.

This… is not at all what he wanted.

Suddenly, Woods feels trapped and alone again, no better than he was back in his own home. Except now he’s surrounded by the heat, noise, and stench of over a hundred other people.

The lights feel heavy and blinding, the pulsating pop music, deafening. He trudges up to the bar slowly yet surely, but with every step he comes closer to committing to his plan of escaping back to Alex’s car.

He never should’ve went along with this… he was just fine at home, damn it.

Lost in his thoughts and half blinded by the smoke and lights, he runs smack into another person. With a dampened thud, they hit the ground hard. Wood swears under his breath and figures he can at least offer a hand. He bends down to help up the fallen individual, only to see…

You.

Suddenly, it’s as if all the haze and fog has cleared from his eyes. He can see you clear as day down here, and the noise and smells of the crowd all fade away. A soft blue glow highlights your features, and an electric magenta bounces off your hair. The sparkling, sequined little dress you wear glitters in the halo of light descending around you, and a thousand flecks of light reflect back onto his worn, tired face.

Woods' hand hangs in mid air, half way through it’s journey to assist you. He whispers your name, quietly and fondly, as though he never thought he’d see you again.

For the first time in what must have been days, a smile breaks free from his stern glower.

But all you see is the asshole who teased you along for weeks, only to give you the highest embarrassment by sending you off like a misbehaving child after you were at your most vulnerable with him.

You were ready to give him your very body, and he only felt up what he wanted and sent you off.

With a sneer, you slap his hand away and hop up on your own. You don’t even bother to spare him a word. Instead, you stare daggers into him and walk off.

For a moment. For a second time… He watches you go.

He should let you walk away.

After what he did, you deserve at least the privacy. And that’s aside from the fact that you’re clearly pissed.

But he can’t. Not again.

“Hey, wait!”, he dashes after you, shoving his way through the crowd. A little too roughly, he grabs your upper arm and spins you around. You yank yourself free from his grip and glare right through him. Even through all the rage…

You look so beautiful in this light.

“I… I- uh. Hey”

“Hey?”, your blood is boiling. Is that all he has to say for himself?

The venom in your voice makes him recoil, shrinking back into himself. But still… “I uh, I just… H-how are you… I didn’t think you’d be in a place like this, heh…”

Out of pure manners, you respond, “Fine. What are you doing here?”, you cross your arms, defensive, but genuinely curious.

Woods looks over his shoulder then all round, searching for any sign of Mason. Nothing. He snaps his attention back to you, trying to come up with any reason at all to explain himself. Frank stutters for an answer, but you end your indulgent lapse before he can say anything coherent and turn to walk away.

“Wait! I… I-I miss you...”

You whip around, seething with anger. Then, very seriously, you ask, “Are you following me?”

“What? No! Fuck no! I just… I miss you, that’s all!”

You scoff, “Well maybe you should’ve fucking thought of that first”

“...You’re right”

That stops you dead. This is nothing like the Woods you know… You can’t recall a single time he’s had the humility, let alone the balls, to admit that he’s wrong.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…”, he sighs, and even in the darkness of the club you can see a glimpse of just how much pain he’s in, “Look… I shouldn’t have done that, back there behind the gym. You trusted me and I fucked it up. I know. It’s just… I was scared”

A biting edge creeps back into your voice. You don’t buy that. “Scared? Of what, getting caught?”

“What? No! I was scared… that I was taking advantage of you, alright?”

You blink, and suddenly all the rage leaves you, as though the hot air was deflated right out of you. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well I mean… You know… Y-you’re just a kid, and I’m… not. I just- It didn’t feel right. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to ask if you really wanted all that, I just… went for it”

You take a little step closer, your hard gaze softening just a touch, “Well… It’s not like I was saying no”, you chuckle

“Yeah, but that’s not the fucking same, you know?”

You look away, “Yeah…”

“So… Anyway… I’m sorry, alright?”

At last, you turn back and smile at him, “Alright. I forgive you, and… thanks. For saying that”

Woods nods and accepts your thanks. The two of you share a little smile and a short pause of uncertain silence until he breaks the silence, “So… What now?”

You look him up and down. He’s wearing jeans and a tightly fitting flannel, a stark contrast to all the trendy, flashy fashion of the rest of the clubbers, and yet it’s so… him. You trace a finger down his limp, tattooed arm, stopping at his fingers to intertwine them with yours.

“How about a dance?”, you tug his hand gently, then nod towards the dance floor.

A feeling like euphoria washes over him, and time seems slow as he floats along while you tug him through the crowd. Somewhere in the beautiful, prismatic show of lights, he hears himself agree. You lead him to a cramped, but vacant spot on the glowing dance floor and turn an ear to the music, “Hey, I love this song…”

Woods perks up to listen, just in time to catch the start of More Than A Woman, muffled slightly by all the noise and bustle of the crowd.

It’s like it’s playing from within a dream.

You rest your hands on his chest, letting them slide down so that the heels of your palms sit where the curve of his stomach begins to swell out. Frank has his hands on your waist, swaying in time with you slowly to the music. He clears his throat and looks away from your sparkling, gorgeous eyes, a nervous blush creeping up his neck.

He knows you’ve been over this before, but… “Yeah, uh… so, you know, I’ve been thinking I should lose some weight... You know, while you’ve been… gone”, he moves your hands up from his belly to clasp behind his neck.

You quirk up your brow, a confused smile on your lips, “Why?”

“Uh, I don’t know… I think it makes me look old, I guess”

You laugh and come a little closer, your bodies nearly touching, “Well, if it means anything... I don’t think so”, You inch up and kiss his cheek, bringing one hand down to rest on his softened pect. He huffs a nervous laugh and masks the flattered embarrassment with a timid smile as he covers your hand with his, holding it there just a little while more.

He's never forgotten how amazing your touch alone feels.

He clears his throat and re-establishes eye contact. A whole kaleidoscope of color plays inside your eyes. He could get lost in them for the rest of his life. “You uh… wow. You- you look beautiful tonight...”, he steals a quick glance as your little, sparkly dress and the neon rainbow refracting off the thousands of tiny sequins, “Nearly gave this old man a heart attack when I first saw you”, he laughs.

“Oh?”, you smirk and lead him into a turn, “ In that case, you should see me take it off”

His heart pounds underneath your palm, but his face looks frozen with surprise. He doesn’t hear women say that kind of stuff to him often…

“D-do you… Do you mean that?”

“Well, I mean… Maybe after this, I’d love t-”

“No, not that. I mean… Me. D-do you really feel that way about me?”

You stop dancing for a moment.

His words cut deeply with the quiver of hope they carry, as though it had never crossed his mind that someone would want to be with him.

“Of course I do. But… I want you more then just for that you know”, you chuckle.

His cheeks go pink, “Oh. Damn, so you like that kind of st-?”

You place a single finger to his lips, shushing him. “I meant… I love you”

Your words echo back to him in slow motion, as though reality and time itself are breaking all around him to unveil a haven of euphoria. His heart is beating in his ears, and yet it sounds slow and calm, just like the wild crowd and the blaring music all around him.

Everything grows quieter and softer until it all fades away, leaving behind just you and him.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he heard those words, only to come up empty handed. It’s been so long… He can’t even remember.

Frank looks back at you, a little neon angel clinging to his beat up old shirt. Gorgeous. That’s all he can think of when he sees you. He almost feels like he shouldn't even have the privilege to do so. You bat long lashes up at him and a slow smile draws across your soft, glossy lips.

More than a woman…

Slowly, you come up to meet your lips to his. You’ve kissed before, but this… It feels like the first kiss of his entire life.

He presses back gently, sucking softly as he draws you close. You smell like dark cherry and amber, some combination of perfume and lip gloss. The faint smell of whisky and musk radiating off of him mingles with the divine scent of you.

He can taste it all on his tongue, even as he slides it over to flick across yours.

More than a woman to me…

At long last you part, breathing softly as your eyes drift up to meet one another's. And when he looks down into those deep, glittering pools, he wonders how he never saw all the love and warmth they hold for him. The love they always had.

“I love you too…”, he whispers, tears stinging at his eyes and voice, before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

And now? The love they always will.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-OT7

 2020 has been shit. Covid, Quarantine, tours cancelled, dreams stopped, life at a standstill. And when the boys are nominated-finally-for a Grammy, there’s nothing more you want to do than celebrate with them all, yet, you’re separated by walls and the sense of responsibility to keep them safe. And you feel as if your heart is finally breaking. However, they’re determined to see you-one way or another. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Poly!BTS, boyfriend au, Kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, kim namjoon, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, Fluff, Angst

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: Life Goes On

“Please, please, please.” You find yourself muttering over and over beneath your breath, like a mantra that you can’t seem to stop. 

“Nominations for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance are as follows-” 

The voice of the woman on the TV seems to be ringing in your ears, sounding as if it’s coming through a tinny phone speaker, and you swallow hard, screwing your eyes shut, as you sit at the break room table, fingers clenched into white knuckles in your lap, half eaten lunch long forgotten. 

“They’re gonna get it, (Y/N).” Tara, one of the fellow nurses, reaches across the table and squeezes your hand in her own, offering you a gentle smile, as you try to give her a weak grin back in return. 

And then, the TV sounds through the silence once more. 

“Justin Bieber, Lady GaGa, Taylor Swift-” 

You can feel your mouth drying with each name listed, and just as your heart is squeezing in your chest, and your throat is feeling as if it will close and cut off our breathing completely-

“And BTS.” 

Your mouth falls open, as cheers erupt around the break room, and Tara is shrieking beside you and clamping down on your hand, as others who you know from work are standing up to congratulate you with pats on the back and high fives. 

You feel numb. But in a good way. 

“They did it.” You say breathlessly, voice hitching on a sudden emotional laugh, as you stand up from the table and hurriedly wipe at the tears that are pooling in the corner of your eyes. “I have to make a phone call.” You say to Tara, who waves you off with a knowing look, and an expression that says she’ll take care of the floor till you get back. 

Barging into the women’s bathroom, you utter a hasty apology to a patron who is almost hit by the door, and ignoring her blatant glare, lock yourself into the end stall, fingers shaking as you struggle to click on Namjoon’s contact information. 

He’ll be the one who is most likely to have his phone on him at this hour. 

You tap your foot on the tile, impatiently listening to the ringing in your ear, as you wait for him to pick up, glancing down at the watch you wear on your wrist. 

It’s 3 AM, but surely, they haven’t gone to bed right after the announcement. 

Not after this. 

“Hello??” Namjoon’s voice sounds in your ear, breathless and excited and loud, and you instantly feel your heart squeeze at the sound. 

“Hi!” You manage to push a smile onto your face, and clutch the phone tighter to your ear, as you adjust our seat on the cold lid of the toilet. Your fingers claw desperately at the speaker next to your ear, as if you can will yourself through the phone and beside them. “You did it! You guys did it, Joonie!” 

“Hold on! I’m putting you on speaker.” There is the rustle of hasty fingers pressing buttons, and then Namjoon’s voice, slightly distant now, comes back in your ear. “Can you hear us, jagi?” 

“Yes!” You laugh, and choke slightly on the tears that are suddenly making an overwhelming lump in your throat. “Who’s there? Tell me please?” 

“Me, noona!” Jungkook’s voice is loud in your ear, and you hold the speaker away a bit, a grin lighting up your features at how incredibly alive he sounds in this moment. You can practically envision him jumping up and down while he talks hurriedly over the noise of the other boys. “Did you watch? Did you see? We got the nomination!” 

“I know, Kook!” You laugh, and the sound is watery, which you hope doesn’t translate through the phone, as you reach up to wipe across your nose with the back of your hand, the tears leaking over and streaming down your cheeks now in warm drips. “I saw. I’m so proud of you, baby boy.” 

“I’m here too, baby girl.” Jimin’s warm, soft tones fill your ear now, softer than his brother’s, but no less excited, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip, as a wave of missing him comes over you unexpectedly. “I can’t believe that we did it.” 

“I can.” You respond firmly, the waver leaving your tone for just a moment, as your fingers clench around the phone. “I can one hundred percent believe it, Jiminie.” 

“Taehyung didn’t even react to the nomination.” Namjoon sounds over the phone once more, laughter in his voice, and then you hear the solid sound of someone pushing him aside, as he laughs loudly, the phone sounds becoming fuzzy for a moment. 

Then Taehyung’s voice, loud and clear and defensive, echoes in your ear. “Yah! I was caught off guard, that’s all! I was in shock!” 

“Understandable.” You laugh once more, and the quiver is back, as the lump in your throat grows, as you hear them laughing and teasing one another, without you. Again. “I’m so proud of you guys. I love you. And-” You take in a deep, shaky breath, before you reach up to wipe away a sudden flood of tears with the palm of your free hand. “I wish I could be there to celebrate with you.” 

“Shit, don’t cry, jagi.” Namjoon is back, and you hear shushing in the background, before his voice is loud and clear once more. “We didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“No, no!” You wave your hand in the solitude of the empty bathroom stall, and pull your knees up to your chest, as you fight for breath through the sudden tears clogging your chest and throat. You manage to laugh, though it comes through as more of a half strangled sob. “You didn’t. I’m sorry. I just miss you guys. That’s all.” 

“We miss you too, sweetheart.” Taehyung’s voice is low and serious, and you can imagine the worry in his dark eyes. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening, signalling that you’re no longer alone, has you rising to your feet, brushing at the tears that continue to fall. 

“Okay. I have to go.” You sniff loudly once more, and reach for a wad of toilet paper to wipe your face. “I’ll call you all once I’m off shift. But remember-” You put your lips close to the speaker, and close your eyes, imagining their faces. “I’m so so proud of you. And I love you guys.” 

********

“Did you get to talk to Yoongi?” Your roommate looks up from stirring the ramen she is making for dinner, and offers you a curious look, as you sit at the kitchen table, eyes still puffy from the nap you had just taken after getting off your shift. 

“Yeah.” You yawn, stifling the action with a hand, and your throat and mouth feel raw from all the crying you’ve been doing, and from being exhausted. “He and Hobi and Jin called me on the drive home. They had all fallen asleep.” 

“Ah.” Your roommate grins at you, waving the large slotted spoon in your direction. “That’s cute.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “Did Yoongi cry?” 

“Yes.” You laugh, and the sound is slightly melancholy. “I think we all cried together for the first like ten minutes of the phone call.” 

Turning off the stove, she hands you a bowl of steaming ramen, sitting across the table from you, before she says softly, “You really miss them, huh?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh heavily, stirring the food around, not feeling much like eating, as your heart once again aches in your chest for the millionth time that day. “I hate being apart from them. I wanna celebrate with them, and see them after I get off work, and be in the same bed again. I don’t sleep well when I’m alone.” You laugh, and glance at her sheepishly. “I sound pathetic, don’t I?” 

“You are pathetic.” Your roommate grins. “But I bet they miss you just as much.” 

Your phone, buzzing loudly on the table, distracts you from the conversation, and flipping it over to see the lit up screen, a thin smile spreads across your lips, as you glance over at her and say, “Speak of the devil.” 

Pushing aside the bowl of still steaming ramen, you pick up the call, and before he can say anything, you greet him excitedly, “Is this Grammy Nominated Min Yoongi I’m speaking to?” 

There is a slightly amused chuckle from the other end of the phone, but when he speaks, his voice is hoarse and quiet, as if he’s just woken up from a deep sleep, “Hey, baby.” 

You are suddenly worried, and fiddling with the chopsticks in front of you, your roommate shooting you a questioning look, you angle your body away from her and ask carefully, “Yoongs, you sound tired. Are you okay? Did you just finish therapy? Make sure you’re drinking plenty of water and resting.” 

“Shit, baby. I’m fine.” Yoongi interjects, and his voice holds a tone of exasperated bemusement at your worrying. “I didn’t call to talk about me. I have a surprise for you.” 

You try to think of what he could be referring to. Yoongi was in Daegu. Had he sent you something? Something to be delivered? You felt excitement and curiosity, and a hint of confusion, start to gather in your stomach. 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, standing from the table, already headed toward the front door of the apartment. You hadn’t heard anyone knock, but maybe you had missed it? 

“You should go out on your balcony.” Yoongi’s voice fades for a moment, as if the phone has moved from his mouth, and then he’s back again, and his voice sounds slightly less exhausted than before. 

“Why?” You stop in your tracks, and spinning on your heel, head back through the kitchen, as your roommate watches you curiously, toward the living room and the sliding doors that lead out to the balcony. “Seriously, Min Yoongi, if this is some sort of joke-” 

Yoongi laughs, and you can practically picture his bright gummy smile flashing. “Trust me, baby. I’d never do that to you.” 

Letting out a grunt as you push open the one side of the sliding door that always stick, you step out onto the balcony, instantly shivering in the chilly Seoul air, and holding the phone between your shoulder and chin, so you can wrap your arms around your body for warmth, you ask suspiciously, “Okay, I’m outside. Now what?” 

“Now look down.” 

Wait, why did his voice sound so close? So lifelike? As if it weren’t being transmitted from hundreds of miles away through the tinny speakers of two cellphones? What the hell-

You almost drop the phone out of your hand in shock when you step to the balcony railing and see the surprise Yoongi has been referencing-in the form of seven very tangible, and very real, grinning faces, staring up at you from the grass of the apartment courtyard. 

“What-” You gasp out, letting your phone slip into your pocket, because your hands are shaking so much right now, you’re afraid you’ll drop it anyway. “What are you all doing here?” 

Taehyung grins boxily up at you, hands hidden deep into the pockets of his long overcoat, his breath fogging the air, dark hair covered by a beanie. “We wanted to celebrate with you.” 

Your eyes rove over them, and you put a hand up to your mouth as you catch sight of Yoongi, arm in a sling, gums on pink display. He gives you a little wave with his free hand. “Surprise?” 

“You’re here too!” You lean onto the railing for support, leaning farther to take in the vision of them, drinking in their smiles and their faces and their mere presence. “You’re all here! I don’t understand.” 

“We can’t be with you yet,” Jimin jumps in, cocking his head, blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at you affectionately. “But we can see you, at least from a distance. And we wanted to let you know, in person, that we miss you, baby girl.” 

“I miss you too.” You breathe out, warm tears starting to well in the corner of your eyes once more. “But-” You gasp, and wave your arm at them, gesturing to them one by one. “You guys did it! You got a grammy!” 

Namjoon chuckles, and he shifts from one foot to the other in the cold, making you realize that you have barged outside without a jacket and shoes, and you’re slowly starting to feel numb. “Not yet we didn’t, jagi. But with a little luck we will.” He winks at you. 

“Yah.” Jin throws his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders and shouts up to you, his loud voice naturally carrying to the balcony. “Don’t ruin the moment with logic, Namjoon!” 

“I was sleeping and missed it!” Hobi announces, rolling his eyes, before he motions to you and then to his face. “But when I got up, I cried! I couldn’t believe it!” 

You feel warmer just having his sunshine smile shine up to you, and looking down at the seven boys, you don’t even feel the cold anymore. You’re just glad they’re here. 

“Noona, were you excited?” Jungkook chimes in, his dark eyes barely visible beneath long bangs and a pulled down beanie, hands stuffed into the pockets of his puffy winter coat. He dances from foot to foot, as if he can’t stay still. “Did you watch it at work?” 

“Yes!” You laugh, hands gripping the icy railing, as you grin down at Jungkook. “I was on break, and when the news broke, everyone cheered for you guys!” 

“Like this?” Taehyung asks with another grin, before he starts whooping loudly and pumping his fist in the air, each yell echoing off the empty courtyard. 

You laugh, you can’t help it, as they all join their brother, shouting and calling in triumphant, making fools of themselves just to see you smile-Yoongi even joins in. 

“What is all the ruckus out here?” Your roommate appears at your elbow, her tone stern, but a teasing smile on her lips, as she leans over the railing beside you and stares down at the boys. “Will you guys shut up?” 

“Haven’t you heard?!” Taehyung crows out, shooting her a wink. “We’re grammy nominated artists!” 

“I heard, I heard.” She grins now, and slinging an arm around your shoulders, calls down to the boys, “I haven’t stopped hearing about it. (Y/N) never stops talking about you guys, you know.” 

“We know.” Jimin looks smug, and you feel a blush come across your cheeks, as you elbow your roommate in the side. “We never stop talking about her either.” 

“Gross.” Your roommate makes a face and leaves your side, headed back into the warmth of the apartment. 

You sit there for another moment, basking in the joy of simply being able to see them in person after so long, and then leaning once more out over the railing, as far as you can go, hands cold and body numb, you shout out over the courtyard as loudly as possible, for all to hear, “My boyfriends are Grammy nominated, bitches! Did you hear that? GRAMMY NOMINATED!” 

Yoongi and Namjoon look suitably embarrassed, as the rest of the boys once again start crowing out their achievements, and you can’t help the grin that goes across your face as you watch them-your boys. 

2020 had been shit. 

But they made it all worth it. 

And it was only onward and upward from here. 

Together. 

[yamithediaperdork]

Billy's Birthday Bash part 1 (DC)

Billy yawned and sat up in bed, reaching over and turning off his alarm clock which was blabbering away about how the justice league had saved the day last night, again. from alien attackers, Again.

"Like I don't know that." Billy muttered, swinging his blanket off and twisting in his bed so his bare feet could hit the floor. "I was only there."

Billy Batson after all was the secret identity of the world's mightiest mortal Shazam, gifted with gifts from seven gods and one of the league's heavy hitters.

Just thinking about that brought a smile to the 13 year old hero's face and he turned to pose in in the mirror in his bedroom, and then his face fell as he saw his reflection.

while once he said his magic word he was a 6'9 muscled beefcake, the image looking back him with it's scrawny arms and chest which were covered with a faded flash themed PJ top while around his hips was a semi bulky and again flash themed overnight diaper, that was drooping from being used many times (Thankfully only wettings though, something he confirmed with a quick pat to his padded rear and a sniff of the air) despite Billy having only made it to bed at around 3 am.

He hadn't of been worried about getting in trouble for being out so late though.

the once orphan had been happily adopted and taken in by one Barry Allen and got alone great with his new dad and tried to be pleasant around Miss west, Barry's girlfriend who came over often enough to have her own key.

It wasn't that she was unpleasant or anything, it was just with Billy's 'problems' acting up bad enough that he needed his diapers basically 24/7, she insisted on diaper checks, even in front of her nephew Wally who'd come over sometimes with her and was like the coolest guy ever!

The reason why he hadn't of been worried about Barry finding out though was because Barry was also a member of the Justice league, ironically the Flash who's symbol had been on the front of the bulky diaper at one point.

"You'd think he'd be mad these things even exist since till Bat's set up that account for us there was no way to collect royalties." Billy grumbled to himself.

But when asked Barry admitted if he could help kids like Billy who had potty issues feel big and brave like superhero's, He was fine with the diapers being made and mostly didn't touch his share of the royalties.

though as Billy's legal guardian Shazam couldn't touch his share either without permission and was irked that Barry would use some of Billy's money to stock up on his diapers.

"I'm teaching you to be reasponable. if you have to pay for the diapers you'll be less likely to rip them up like that first pack Iris got you." Barry had reminded Billy, with a smirk on his face but a slight stern tone.

"I said sorry..besides they had stupid ponies and stuff on them." Billy had whined back.

still he fell in line and even if he had wanted to just blast the diapers with his lighting some times and suck up the wasted cost, with his new day's symbol on it he just couldn't do it.

Since he was only wet Billy was allowed to change himself, there had been the great carpet incident a few days after he'd moved in trying to change a dirty diaper on his own and Barry had made him pinky swear to ask for help with those.

since Billy was on the family plan and had his own cell phone he could just discretely call Barry when he was smelly, though thankfully his daytime accidents were few and fair in between.

Snapping the tapes off Billy had a minor moment sulkiness again since his budding pubic hair had been shaved clean because of his diapers, though he had to admit Barry had been right, he was getting a LOT less rashes.

balling the soggy diaper up and holding it out with one hand, Billy took a deep breath and pinched his nose with the other one as he stepped on the foot petal for his diaper pail and dropped it in, not wishing to smell memories of diaper past.

with that done he walked around enjoying the lack of a waddle in his step for the precious few moments he would and tugged opened his version of a underwear drawer, stocked full of daytime and overnight flash brand diapers.

"Gee, what's a boy to wear, flash themed disposable undies or flash themed disposable undies?" He asked, tapping a finger on his chin and smirking a little."the struggle is real for 13 year old pants wetter."

"heh, Oh really?" Came a voice from the doorway and Billy yelped and tugged to tug his shirt down, even though he knew Barry had seen everything.

"B-Barry knock!" He huffed, and blushed, hands over over his crotch now.

"I did, someone was off in his own little world.. in fact so off he forgot what today is." Barry said and smirked, pointing over to a Shazam themed calendar on the wall, with the dates date circled in red."Your not 13 anymore silly. Happy birthday~"

Billy, who normally was ignored on his birthday either by choice or lost in the shuffle while in foster care really had forgotten and now grinned big time.

"That's right! I get a real party, with cake, and ice cream an-" Billy was saying and was cut off as Barry zipped over, a little bit slower in his blue jeans and denim shirt but not by much and was ruffling Billy's hair.

"And you get a birthday spanking." Barry teased, but winked to let Billy know he was joking.

"Try it and I'll saw you know what." Billy giggled and blew a raspberry.

"Hmmm flash vs. Shazam in a spanking fight. we could sell out areas. But At last, your butt's just too cute to mare." Barry chuckled and gave the boys chubby cheeks a soft pat before zipping back to the door frame.

the pat while gentle, was unexpected and Billy yelped and a little trickle of pee came out, something Barry missed but the now hard wood floor of Billy's room could handle it.

"Finish getting dressed buddy and I'll get this cleaned up in-"

"Don't say it!" Billy groaned rolled his eyes.

"A flash!" Barry said, zipping off as Billy snatched a pair of daytime diapers out.

'He's so corny sometimes.' Billy thought.

Dressed in a red t-shirt and a baggy pair of black shorts that did a good job of hiding the bulk of his padding (there there was a tell tale crinkle for those listening for it) he made his way to the dinning room and grinned ear to ear as the table was loaded with chocolate pancakes, blue berry waffles, fried eggs, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and a pitcher of chocolate milk and a pitcher of orange juice.

with how fast Barry's metabolism was he was always making big meals and was part of the reason Billy had put on some much needed wait, but even so, this was above and beyond.

with drool trailing down his chin he grabbed a plate and looked over the feast, almost at a lost of where to begin.

"heh, Did daddy do good or did daddy do good?" Barry asked, zipping into the room.

"This. Is. Awesome!" Billy squealed. "Was this all you or did Iris help too?" Billy asked.

"She's out of town on a assignment for a news papers, she's sorry she's gonna miss the party." Barry said, looking sorry.

"Well it's ok." Billy said, starting to load up his plate, a impish grin coming across his face. "we can just have anther party with more cake when she gets back. It'll be hard having all that sugar and getting double presents, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make." he said, topping off his plate and plopping his butt onto his special chair.

with his bulky diapers and the fact he leaked sometimes, Barry had gotten him a dinner chair with sides coming up to the middle of his tummy so Billy wouldn't lose balance and fall off, and it had a plastic cover for a easier clean up instead of the stained oak that the rest of the chairs had.

Naturally Billy had been least then pleased at the fact he had a toddler chair but after falling off of the other chairs three times he'd finally bit the bullet.

"Oh, your willing to have two party's huh? truly, your a saint among men. We'll see what happens." Barry said, coming over and getting his own plate while taking a second to mentally gush at just how adorable Billy looked, his legs kicking under the table as he scooped food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a month. "Heh, wow, and I thought I was fast..slow down before you choke buddy."

Billy as normal, took that warning as a challenge and sped up.

After 4 helpings Billy just sat back in his chair, burping softly and groaning as he put a hand to his belly, not even offering a fight as Barry came over with a cloth to wipe his face and hands.

"Did somebody maybe eat more then he should of?" Barry asked sweetly, as he helped the groaning boy out of the chair, and after a second picked him up, setting him on his hip and patting his back.

Billy's reply was a loud blench and Barry winced, glad he'd had the foresight to get Billy's head over his shoulder.

"well put. any follow ups?" Barry chuckled, and kept patting, this wasn't Billy's first semi food coma and he doubted it would be the little thunder champions last.

Billy went to open his mouth to say something then a loud booming fart blasted out of his bottom and for a split second Barry wondered if his arm would of been burnt if not for the padding.

"I-I didn't..I.." Billy whimpered and buried his head into Barry's shoulder and Barry could feel the heat from the boys face.

"Hey..hey..it's ok. fart's happen. besides you've gone uh-oh in my lap so this is hardly worse." Barry said, tilting his head and giving the poor blushing little guy a smooch on the head.

"N-Not helping!" Billy whined.

"Ok ok, I'll drop it.. here let's get you sat down and watching some carto-" Barry started to say but anther thunder poot from the champion of lighting cut him off.

"gawd! that stinks!" Billy whined.

"...Or Maybe you wanna go and sit on the potty." Barry said trying to be nice, but the boy wasn't wrong.

"I know when I have to go poop Barry!" Billy huffed and two more loud farts came out and the boy switched from huffy to shocked. "..and that would be right now. Potty daddy!"

Any other daddy wouldn't of stood a chance in the world, But Barry Allen didn't call him the fastest man alive for nothing, but even then it was a close call as he barley got Billy's shorts and diaper down and got him on the toilet before the boy started to unleash hell.

Knowing how Billy valued some privacy, Barry left almost as quick as he'd gotten him in there, though not before bringing a few room freshers into the bathroom and opening a window.

'don't want him to pass out form his own stink.. man..I wonder if there's anther god powering.. skunkculues, champion of stink.' Barry mused as he waited outside the bathroom door just in case he was needed.

Billy groaned as he hunched over and pounded a fist on the sink's counter, wondering if maybe he had a natural power over lava because that's what this felt like as he made use of the potty.

His own stink was assaulting his nose though thankfully daddy had set it up so it would be as bad, though he still ended up having to flush a couple of times just to help with the smell.

Sweating, Panting and feeling drained, he barley had it in him to wipe himself when it was all said and done, and swore he'd never cram that much food into his tummy again all at once.

(of course since he swore that once every three or so days the oath may of fallen on deaf ear.)

which his cheeks wiped, Billy went to stand up on shaky legs and plopped back down, then noticed the shart stains in the back of the diaper and signed.

"Dadddd..IUh...I need help." he called out. huffing and slumping, elbows on his knees and waiting.

when the door opened up and his cousin/cool bro via adoption opened the door Billy yelped and in vain tried to cover up the diaper around his ankles.

4 minutes earlier...

Wally who had retired from the superhero game while going to collage and trying to be a CSI like Barry, had surprised Barry by showing up for the party.

"Wally! good to see you!" Barry had said, shaking the younger mans hand, but then, ever the good daddy/uncle had narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you suppose to be in class right now?"

"The professor for the only class I had today had a family emergency, so the class was called off, and I was gonna try and make it anyways." Wally said, keeping his voice down and Barry picked up on it and kept his down as well.

"Ah, a birthday surprise for Billy." Barry said and smirked. "you know he thinks the world of you right?"

"I might of picked up on that. hence why I pretend not to notice his little problem." Wally chuckled and ran a hand though his orange hair. "you'd think he would of linked how Aunt Iris doesn't do bum checks when I'm around with it buttt.."

"Heh, Well he see's what he wants to see. He's on the potty right now though so maybe if you hi-" Barry started to say when his com beeped.

it wasn't his JL com, but the one he'd given the Meta human crimes department for central and Keystone city, being the hero of the twin cities.

dashing over he answered it, and frowned, then dashed back to Wally but even as he did he was in costume.

"I hate to do this, but Weather wizard and Captain cold are causing heck in Keystone. could you stay with Billy? he might need a little help." Barry said and gestured his head to the bathroom.

"Of course. Listen, if you need any back up.. I might not have my costume, but after Billy gets out.."

"Hey, I'll handle it. I'll be back.."

"in a flash. I know I know." Wally groaned, having the same opinion as Billy about the phase.

Barry just smirked like it was the worlds greatest dad joke and took off.

"W-Wally!? Get out! I-" Billy was whining and had actual tears welling up in his eyes, making Wally just wanna hug him.

"Billy, Billy listen to me, Barry had to go and fight the rouges, I came here for your party..and I've know about your diapers since Barry adopted you." Wally said, cutting right to the chase.

"..No you haven't! I was super careful and someone as cool and awesome as you wouldn't wanna hang out with a diaper wetting baby!" Billy whined, in denial even as Wally sighed and shook his head.

"Really Billy? I'm training to be a CSI, so I'm learning to notice little things, I move at super speed, not as fast as Barry but still, and you crinkle lots." Wally listed off on his hand, raising fingers, then giving Billy a hurt look. "Also, you think SO little of me I wouldn't wanna hang out with a awesome and cool little guy like you just because you have accidents?"

"But..I.." Billy whimpered and sniffled, and went to wipe at his tears with his arm but Wally was there, with a wad of tissue.

"Hey, it's ok Billy. Truth be told, I wet the bed for 3 years after getting my powers. But My Parents weren't as nice and Uncle Barry and aunt Iris. they were the ones who looked after me like they're looking after you now. so no more tears alright? let's get you dressed and then we can play some video games." Wally said, and ruffled the boys hair.

Billy gave him a smile and then hugged Wally's waist, and the 19 year old almost melted and patting his head.

Tossing the dirty diaper, Wally got Billy in a clean over night diaper, and added powder, though Billy whined a little he was pacified by Wally saying he thought those looked cooler.

Going off of that logic Billy when offered a pair of baggy pants to go over the thicker diaper went all shy.

"uh. well..I mean.. if you wanna see this diaper because it's cuter.. and we're not going out anywhere.." Billy said, squirming and shifting all around.

"..I do think it's cuter, and Barry said he'd call if he needed us. Uh.. " wally trailed off and then blushed himself, and put a hand behind his head. "I have ONE question that's been bugging me."

"heh, what is it?" Billy said, holding up his arms for the older boy to pick him up.

"when you change.. do you have to take the diapers off first or..how does that work?!" Wally asked, picking him up and gushing as Billy cuddled in.

"heh, Nah, the big guy isn't padded, and as to how that works.." Billy paused and let wally hold his weight as he spread his hands, wiggling his fingers.

"Maggggggic~"

Wally snorted and smirked.

"your such a dork sometimes you know that?" he asked playfully, carrying Billy at normal speed down the stairs.

"Pffft please, I've seen you marking out over dad's cases when going over them with him, and not his stuff as flash, but as Barry Allen,CSI."Billy teased back.

Wally huffed and blushed himself and then smirked.

"You're lucky your cute or I'd super speed your butt to central park right now."

"heh, you wouldn't do that, A) because I'd say the word and leave, B) because Dad would kick you butt and C).." Billy said and tapped Wally's chest as he listed off his points. "You'd made me cry and hate yourself for it~"

"..Dang, guilty as charged."

Getting into the living room, Wally sat Billy on the couch and then went to look though the selection of games they had for two player.

"Super monkey fury 5 good for you?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Um..whatever YOU think is a cool game!" Billy said, and gave a big grin.

he might of been 14 but in his diaper and t-shirt, and all eager to please his 'big bro' figure, he looked like a toddler.

"Heh, it's YOUR special day Billy, whatever YOU wanna play we'll play it." wally chuckled.

"W-Wellll.. Dad doesn't let me play Duty calls a lot because it's so violent.." Billy said, poking two fingers together.

"..I think Barry will understand." Wally smirked and put the game in, coming over with controllers for both of them.

As Wally sat down he was surprised as Billy moved from his spot next to him to sitting in his lap.

"heh,What are y-"

"it's MY Special day right?" Billy asked, flashing his imp smirk. "So I can sit anywhere I want.. rightttt?"

"heh. of course."

Barry hated how long it took him to deal with the rouges, they had gotten reinforcements from mirror master so it took longer then he would of liked to finish up, plus then he had to deal with the police over and handle the press, all part of keeping up the hero image and while any other day it wouldn't of irk'ed him, knowing he was missing out on Billy's big day, he was short tempered

he had almost snapped at Detective Morro, a long time friend on the force in both identities but caught himself.

"you ok Flash?" his friend asked.

"I..I'm missing out on my kid's birthday party for this." Barry admitted.

"heh, didn't know you HAD a kid. go on, get." the heavy set cigar chomping hard ass said. "We'll try to manage without you for the rest of the day...Oh, tell yer kid happy birthday."

"heh, Will do!" Barry said and after a trademark flash salute, was off and running.

Getting back to the house Barry found Billy in Wally lap and whining a little, sucking his thumb and a kiddy cartoon was on the TV, much younger then Billy usually liked to watch.

"Hey guys, I'm back, whats going on?" Barry asked.

"Oh well see, I was a jerk and tried to make Billy play a game I like an-" Wally started to speak up but a whimpering Billy cut him off.

"Noo! it was me! I made Wally play duty call's with me and it was way more awful then I thought and I know I've done worse as you know who but but..I dunno and I started to cry and and-" Billy whined and whimpered.

"..Billy when your Shazam you have the wisdom of Solomon that let's you work out why you have to do the things you do. not so much as yourself. that's why I didn't want you playing that, you're not in trouble, either of you but I think we're gonna keep it to cartoons or silly games for the day." Barry said, coming over and as Wally hugged the whining Billy in his lap, Barry did too and Billy sniffled and smiled.

"Kay"

with Billy calmed down, they sat down for a few episodes of different baby shows, with billy giggling and clapping alone even if Wally and Barry were bored out of their skulls. trying to break it up they pulled out a few board games but after having to watch Billy do his 'i won you lost' diaper booty shake 4 times in a row (which admittedly was pretty cute with his diaper butt on display) they switched from candy land to clue, where Wally won 2 out of the 4 games.

Barry technically could of won the other two but played bad on purpose for the last game where billy was getting all huffy.

After that they played pay day and once again were subjected to Billy's singing about how awesome he was and how much they sucked, while wiggling his padded rear in their faces but compared to the sulky silence that losing brought, Barry and wally put up with it.

Or at least they tried to till in the middle of shaking his butt in both their faces Billy froze and then let out a muffled poot.

"Really Billy?" Barry asked, waving his left hand at super speed to blow the smell away.

"I-I didn't mean to.d-do that! I'm Sorry!" Billy squeaked and turned around, blushing and starting to tear up. "P-Please don't ha-"

Before Billy could finish his thought, Wally and Barry were on either side of Billy, hugging him.

"Hey, hey, It's alright, Fart's happen." Wally was saying, rubbing and patting Billy's back.

"And I'm 90 percent sure you wouldn't fart on me after winning a game. Now if you lost.." Barry said and winked, patting billy's bum.

"D-Daddy!"

"Hmmm, Feels like it was just a fart, do you wanna sit on the potty just to be sure buddy?" Barry asked.

"Daddy, I know when I have to po-" Billy started and let out a long fart, one eye half closing and a leg coming up. the fart went from a normal sounding if massive one to wet and muddy, then Billy's leg came down and he was popping a squat.

Of course either Wally or Barry could of gotten him to the bathroom, but honestly, they had both agreed wordlessly to just let him fill his diapers.

"D-Daddy I'm Pooping!" Billy whined, as if Wally or Billy couldn't of told, and they just hugged him tighter and went double time with the bum and back pats as he whimpered and put his face in either shoulder, bearing down and finishing up even as whimpers of 'stinky' came out of his mouth.

As the diaper drooped in the back and Billy finished up, he sniffled a few times then pulled back.

"D-Daddy..Wally..Diapie change?" He asked in a voice that made him sound like a toddler.

"Of course buddy. I'll have you clean i-" Barry started to say but Wally moved his hand over and closed Barry's lips.

"I'll change him it means I don't have to hear that pun again." Wally said and winked to Billy even as Barry's eyes went wide from shock then a little glare.

Billy meanwhile was giggling like crazy and hands coming up his mouth to try and hide it.

Barry got Wally's fingers off his lips and smirked.

"oh, you think that's funny little man?" Barry asked, looking to wally and giving a evil smirk.

"I mean.. Kinda.. sowwy.." Billy said.

"Oh come on Barry, it WAS funny." Wally said and smirked.

"..Not as funny as this is gonna be." Barry said and Wally saw what was going to happen but could never beat Barry's speed, so was too slow to stop what happened next.

His hand moving at a blur, Barry smushed and squished the mess in the diaper around, making sure the boom boom went EVERY where as Billy's mouth formed a O and Wally groaned.

Zipping up to his feet Barry smirked.

"Have fun cleaning that up.. Oh and you can't use speed speed for cleaning up a poopie diaper, it'll hurt billy's bum." Barry said and went off to go and start working on lunch.

"wait what?!"Wally yelped.

"I..Poopie all over..I.." Billy was mumbling, looking out of it, and swaying back and forth on his feet, too out of it for Wally to ask if that was really a thing.

"DICK MOVE BARRY!" Wally yelled, then cradled Billy, the smell was even worst now and Wally gulped, wondering if he was strong enough to do this.

Billy mewed softly and wrapped his arms around Wally's neck and nuzzled his head into Wally's chest.

"I Sowwy. I stinky." Billy mewed, eyes semi glazed over.

Looking at how much Billy needed him, Wally found the will power needed and dashed billy off to the bathroom, though he did a slight detour to get a clothespin for his nose.

'maybe it won't be as bad as I think.' Wally thought, getting Billy on his back on a towel in the bathroom, sliding the little guys thumb into his mouth and gushing at how cute he looked.

opening the diaper, Wally realized it wasn't as bad as he thought.

it was worse, much much much.

Wally wasn't a stranger to changing diapers, as big of a family as he had and baby sitting jobs but this was the record for longest and grossest he'd ever handled.

going though a whole freshly opened box of wipes, he got it done, going at normal speed and taking time to comfort billy and talk softly to him.

it took the better part of 15 minutes, and then just to be safe Wally gave Billy a quick bath, semi worried as Billy had apparently slipped into a baby mode of sorts and was playing with some rubber duckies while Wally washed him, at one point offering one of the duckies he had been chewing on to wally.

"Uh..No thanks. you keep chewing." Wally said with a sweat drop.

Billy just giggled and nodded, noming on his ducky and letting wally wash him, only fussing when his hair was being washed, though thankfully Barry had gotten no more tears shampoo.

with Billy washed up all nice and clean, Wally got him dried off with a big fluffy towel and was walking him back toward his room to get him dressed when Barry cut him off, holding one of the presents under one arm.

"Thought I heard the tub running.Lunch is ready downstairs, I'll get the birthday boy dressed. go get something to eat." Barry said.

"Heh, Sure, now that I've handed all the smelly stuff you wanna tag in." Wally teased, and Billy giggled.

"What can I say, Perks of being a daddy and honorary uncle." Barry said.

Wally just shook his head and headed down the step while Billy toddled along side Barry, wrapped up in the towel and then just laid back his bed, willing to let Barry do all the work.

"heh, your being pretty cute kiddo. maybe you should poop your pants more often." Barry teased, tickling billy's tummy and getting a fit of giggles out of him.

Deciding with how little Billy was acting and the bigger accidents he was have, Barry got billy into a daytime diaper but cut slit in the front of back of it first, while Billy watched with a confused look and a finger on his bottom lip.

"Ummm daddy, what cha doing? I'm leak all over now." Billy pointed out.

"Well, if that was your only diapie you would, but daddy figures since we're not going out and you're having lots of accident's.." Barry said and pulled out the bulky bed time diaper.

"Sheesh, I'll be waddling like a toddler with both of these on!" Billy said and stuck out his tongue.

"I know! I don't know why i didn't think of this sooner!" Barry gushed and got a raspberry from billy.

with the bulky diaper taped up over the thinner one, Barry helped billy stand up and gushed and coo'ed at how Billy's legs were forced apart.

"Sheesh, One more and I think I'd be stuck crawling!" Billy said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't temp me." Barry said then handed Billy the present. "Here, open this up, it's from Iris and I thought it might be useful right now."

Warning bell's were going off in Billy's head as he took the present and he had to suppress a groan, it was a flash themed diaper shirt.

"Well what do you think? Iris noticed that your diaper sag a lot when you got pants-less and this will help! Heck, might even get you a few of theses if it works out. but for now,you can be the fastest pamper butt alive!" Barry asked.

"..I think I'll save it special occasions." Billy tried and Barry just laughed.

"Silly boy, this is your birthday, that IS special, here, I'll help you get it on." Barry said taking the diaper shirt from Billy and dashing around the boy. in seconds he was snugly fit in the diaper shirt.

Despite how humiliating it was to need the shirt for his saggy diapers, Billy had to admit it felt right, even if his bulky diapers semi showed.

"Soooo?" Barry asked.

"..I could get used to it. " he said and started to head for the door, realizing just HOW bad his waddling was now as Barry squealed behind him. "..I'll calling it in. carry me."

Billy sighed then giggled, holding his arms out.

"Well if I HAVE to." Barry laughed, coming over and picking up Billy and heading for the dinner table.

So far the day had been fun and cute, and it was only gonna get better.

[mochikeiji]

Your Jersey and Your Smell

↠ Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Akaashi Keiji

↠ Warning: TimeSkip AU! Fluff, Smut! Praising! Size kink! Creampie!

↬ Word Count: 2,938

Summary: Being able to join the Black Jackals was one of Bokuto's dream. He was now a starting and star player of the team. Due to his broad body and excellent physique, his team t-shirt was extra large. Larger than Atsumu's or Kiyoomi's. With Bokuto out on for his regular practice, Akaashi, who was left in their shared apartment decided to explore a little through his stuff.

⇢ Day 4: Sharing Clothes! @bokuakaweek2020

✎﹏

With skillful and quick slender fingers, Akaashi types away yet another project he was given from his editorial company. You're probably thinking why he keeps over working himself when it's the polar opposite. His company has had their eye on him ever since he has dimmed himself and his skills worthy of the charts. Being able to be part of something big meant punctuality— a work of perfectionists. Some of his colleagues and seniors ask for his advice and help during work hours. Big projects such as this one were usually left with him and other professionals.

There are days he tends not to move from his spot and type on continuously. That's where Bokuto, who dims himself as his knight and shining armor, interjects. One time Bokuto had came home late and spots his lover hunched back over his working table with bags growing underneath them. That earned him a stern scolding, no kidding. When Bokuto is concerned, especially if it's someone dear to him, all jokes are aside. That's how Akaashi promised him he won't be doing it again and will be taking breaks every now and then. And being a loving and doting partner he is, he would feel an amount of guilt if he were to break any promises he's made with him, even if it is secretive to the other.

He sighs, taking his glasses off with care and wipes off the excess mist that had filled the lenses, "Bokuto should be home at any hour now." stuck in deep thought as he places his glasses back into his face, pushing them gently by the bridge to avoid slipping. He leans back from hie soft, black chair, stretching his limbs slowly to avoid the sudden rush of pain like last time, "I've already made dinner," thinking through the things he's done a while back beforr he got started with his work again.

"The rooms are already clean from both kitchen and hallway.." dating Bokuto had perks, he was successful, even said that he didn't need Akaashi to work and that he was going to pay the rent of this huge apartment they both settled in. Akaashi scholded him after that, but it was quite sweet of him when he said, "I just want you to rest, Kaashi. After all, you've given me so much back in highschool." he couldn't helo but smile at the fond memory again.

Wanting to stretch his legs to avoid it from sleeping, he stands up from his chair, lightly tapping his feet on the ground. Looking around their shared room, Akaashi spots their closet. Missing Bokuto was a lot harder to him, despite them seeing each other at the end of the day and living together, he was his other half. And he was so love struck with the male. Gingerly walking up to the closet, he grabs both handles with a grip and swung it open together. Immediately greeted by the soothing scent only Bokuto could possess circulating around his clothing. It was a heavy musk of masculine scent, he chuckles lightly at the idea of Bokuto practically bathing himself and his clothing in a bottle of his cologne. He wasn't complaining though.

Examining each article of clothing he owned, he couldn't help but notice each size was getting bigger and bigger as he moves aside his clothing. He was going to take note that they could donate the ones that were smaller for him. Stumbling on one of his clothes, his eyes stared at the black 12 printed jersey. His current jersey. If Akaashi had a dirty secret, it would be wanting to wear Bokuto's jersey's since high school. And now he was free to do so since they have been dating for years now. Biting his lips in hesitance, he looks behind him, checking anxiously if the door from their bedroom would suddenly open. He knew if he was caught he would never hear the end of this from Bokuto.

"No, maybe I shouldn't. He might have an upcoming game where he'll need this." shifting his gaze away from the door and back to his jersey, "But he did mentioned he was taking an entire week off starting tomorrow.." blushing with his lips shaking from his chattering teeth, he gently grabs the hanger of his jersey and closes the closet behind him. Smoothing down the fabric, he watches the large clothing flow from the soft breeze emitting from their air condition. Placing it on top of their bed, Akaashi slowly strips himself from his own sweater, tossing it straight into the laundry basket and stares back at the jersey, topless.

Still debating on whether or not he should have his fill around his own needs, his eyes look up to their wall clock,

8:00 pm.

Bokuto would usually come home late. He could spend his free time just drowning in his clothing in bed! Removing the hanger with care to avoid ripping or damaging the fabric, he does it in a quick motion before placing the hanger at the night stand beside their bed. Holding the jersey up in front of his vision, with a shaky breath, he puts it on himself with excitement bubbling up in his chest, Bokuto's scent engulfing him deeper as his nostrils get drunk from the musk.

Popping his head out of the clothes hole, Akaashi was shocked at the huge size difference he and Bokuo have judging by the shirt. He scans himself by the mirror, to him he looked like a small child. His jersey had reached his knees! Back in highschool he could've sworn that his old Fukurodani jersey would only reach his mid thigh level. Just what has he been doing to grow that big?

Plopping himself back in bed, his body jumping a bit from the impact before coming back to a steady position, Akaashi lets out an exhale of bliss, feeling the cold yet soothing clothing hug his body freely. He could imagine his lover being here near him right now. Clutching the side of the shirt near his chest area, he brings it up to his nose and takes a whiff of the scent, his mouth curling upwards and his feet rubbing themselves on the sheets to tame his inner giddiness.

"Bokuto really has a strong scent." Akaashi thoughts, his free hand moving down to his abdomen to caress it, trying to tame the butterflies that were tickling his insides. But in doing so, he couldn't help but feel a little bothered. Just as his body was feeling cold and light, it was now turning warmer by the minute passes. His breathing becoming heavy, taking another sniff while biting his lower lips. The musky scent hitting his insight about everything, clouding his eyes with arousal and down to his now twitching lower region.

"How long has it been since we've last done it?" whimpering out, he moves the hand from his stomach down in a slow motion way, rubbing his skin the way he remembers how Bokuto would do before touching him down there. But it was far from his intoxicating touch. He sighs when he palms his half erected member. Feeling annoyed by the amount of clothing, he jolts his hips up a bit, pulling his shorts along with his boxers down before settling it on the floor without any care anymore. His member sprangs up, angry and twitching. Akaashi gulped, completely stuck in his own arousal, he doesn't bother to check the time and buries his nose on Bokuto's clothes, tracing a finger against the side of his cock veins. He sucks in a breath from the small stimulation, his sensitivity rising and gathering on his cock, making it leak of precum and want.

Having enough of his own ministrations, Akaashi finally grabs his twitching length, twisting and tightening his fist the way Bokuto has done before when he was being fucked into the oblivion. He moans from the memory, picturing it was him who was beating his cock as his nose takes another big whiff on his jersey. "Why I think of this before?" moaning, he could've done this as a way to release his pent up frustration rather than over working himself. But Akaashi was a timid man. Now that his own needs have taken over, he doesn't mind being dirty like he is now.

Shifting his head on the side, his lower lips bruising from biting back to hold in his moans. Releasing them in between his teeth, he started panting heavily when he thumbs the slit of his cock, spreading the pre cum all over as some kind of lube around his fist, his movements quickening as his imaginations got more steamy, "Bokuto." uttering out breathlessly, his heart beat racing inside. Closing his eyes that were almost rolling at the back of his head, he focuses on the softness and strong scented jersey, each second his small whimpers turning into loud whines. Bokuto's name started to fall into a small chant on his lips, "So close." releasing his grip from the shirt, he moves it on the sheets, anchoring himself from the growing heated knot inside of his belly ready to burst, his mouth falling open, eyes getting teary from the lack of simulation and sensitivity. Akaashi was coming close,

"Need help over there, baby boy?"

His orgasm was ceased, but his pants were continuous. Opening his eyes slowly, he can see Bokuto with his arms crossed on his chest with a small smirk plastered on his face, and his golden eyes darkened with hunger with his gym shorts bulging out a tent underneath them. Normally Akaashi would be embarrassed, but his neediness was strong and the sight of Bokuto fresh from practice and still wearing his unbearably tight clothing wasn't helping. His thighs noticeably shake, wanting to have them wrap around the bigger males torso as his puckering hole takes in his ridiculous length. He wanted to be fucked stupid after weeks— or even a month of neglecting.

"B-bokuto," Akaashi reaches out for him, eyes watering from both missing him and his painful length, "Please." immediately after those pleads left his mouth, Bokuto had stripped all of his clothing by the door. Nearing Akaashi, he throws his sweaty shirt away and positions himself in between the smaller males legs. Akaashi's mouth waters feeling the head of his cock poke his hole, making his toes curl in anticipation. Meanwhile Bokuto was eating in the sight of Akaashi in a flustered mess, wearing his undeniably large jersey.

"Is that my jersey you're wearing, Kaashi?" his voice going deep as he leans down on his neck, licking a small stripe of skin before biting down to mark it. Akaashi whimpers, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, "I-I'm sorry, Bokuto. I just, unf—" he was cut off by his own moan when Bokuto bit the side of the skin between his neck and shoulder, "I missed you."

He hears Bokuto growl in affection, but also knowing that that turnes him on and fueled his own ego. He leans back, licking his dried lips and stares at Akaashi, "I don't mind you wearing my stuff if it means you're gonna look so delectable, Kaashi." he places both of his hands underneath the shirt and on to his sides, squeezing them, which adds up to Akaashi's sensitivity and moans wantonly.

"I wanna try fucking you with it."

He gasps when the tip of Bokuto's cock intrudes his entrance. He didn't even have time to prep him because he too was getting impatient. His mouth falls open, small line of drool falling from the side of his lips as Bokuto eases himself inside slowly, but deeply. It may have hurt him if it was his first time, but now he looked like an omega in desperate need of an alpha. Bottoming out, he was left to adjust from his length. Akaashi possesses a small, fragile body compared to Bokuto's buff figure. Not only has he grown big,

He has definitely grown monstrous down there.

Bokuto pants above him, trying so hard not to let his own desires of thrusting in and out roughly inside the whimpering male from the vice grip his walls were around his cock. It had been too long judging by how unbearably tight Akaashi was. While waiting for permission from the younger one, Bokuto licked his lips at the sight of the end of his shirt getting a wet patch to wear Akaashi's cock was left untouched. To distract himself from going feral, he moves the shirt upward, exposing Akaashi's abdomen and leaking cock. Grabbing it, he slowly brings his hand up on the tip and down on his balls.

"Ah— Bokuto." chocking on a moan with his cock being surrounded by his callused palm, his head shakes side to side from his lower parts getting ripped and jacked off at the same time. Bokuto, being the teasing bastard he was thumbs his cock head with small circles, knowing how it drives Akaashi crazy it makes him cry out, "AH!— PLEASE MOVE!" he grins with a grunt, slowly pulling out from his jutting hips before slamming back inside, causing the air from Akaashi to puff out of his chest.

"Mm, fuck Kaashi, you're really tightening up," Bokuto grunts, the room filling up with the soumd of their bed creaking, Akaashi getting wrecked and his moans, "Its almost as if you miss my cock. Don't you?" he whispers next to his ear, earning a whine from Akaashi. Dirty talking something that gets him off, "You look pretty and cute wearing my jersey while— shit— taking my cock." he praises, capturing his lips for a heated kiss as the temptation of his tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth got into him.

Akaashi's legs snakes there way on his back, his heels digging on Bokuto to lock him in position, arms hugging his sweating torso close, craving for skinship, "Bokuto, ah ha, please. Make me cum. Cum inside me." pulling away from his lips and pleading. Eyes closing, focusing on the euphoria being brought to him, his mouth taking a mind of its own, "Please, please cum inside me. I miss you, I need you, Bokuto please." he cries against his neck, the tip of his cock barely scraping his prostrate close.

"You always have a way of turning me on, Keiji." moaning at the sound of his first name rolling from his lips, his eyes went wide when he felt his limp cock being grabbed on again. Looking down in fear, he was too sensitive,

"And you know what happens when you keep begging me for something I won't stop."

Giving him a deep thrust, his tip finally reaching deep into his sweet spot, Akaashi could only let his tongue out with his eyes rolling back. His cock being fisted fast by Bokuto, who held a sloppy yet animalistic pace from his hips.

"Fuck." Bokuto closes his eyes, biting down on Akaashi's sweaty and marked up neck, "You feel so good around me, Keiji." how Akaashi loves it when ge gets praises from his loving ace, "You look so cute right now. Want to keep fucking you like this." he hears him chuckle deeply from the sight of Akaashi unable to speak coherently from all his senses being blocked by his sinful minitrations.

"Did you really miss me that much?" Bokuto eggs him, his cock pistoning on his prostrate, hand cupping his balls. He was getting close, "Tell me you missed me, baby. I missed you a lot, you know?" from the way Bokuto was becoming chatty, that was a sign that he too was getting close to his high.

"Tell me you miss me, I'll give you all my cum, Keiji. Go on," growling, he places his thumb against his tip, locking his eyes with his teary ones, "I love you."

And that was the last straw for Akaashi.

"FUCK! PLEASE! BOKUTO, AH— I MISS YOU SO MUCH! PLEASE HAH—" scratching his back with his trimmed nails, Akaashi's voice becoming high, "CUM INSIDE— CUMMING! CUMMING!!—"

With a shout as he buries his head against his neck, Akaashi can feel the jersey get soaked from the chest area. His cum spurting on him and Bokuto as he empties himself inside Akaashi's womb with a grunt.

Both panted from exhaustion, basking in the moment of bliss and silence with each other's presence. Bokuto cups Akaashi's tear stianed cheek and strokes it lovingly, staring at his gun metal eyes with pupils fully blown from the intimate moment they both shared. Akaashi sighs, finally calmed his breathing and smiles softly at him, his eyes twinkling in sheer happiness and bliss, "Welcome home." he greets, wrapping his arms back again at Bokuto's neck.

Bokuto returns the smile and leans in for a short, chaste kiss, "Does this mean you'll be wearing my shirt more often? I don't mind if it's you." he teases the black haired male. Akaashi smacks the back of his head lightly from embarrassment, "Not unless you wear mine too.."

There was a moment of silence after his line.

"But your clothes are so tiny."

Akaashi pouts and turns his head away, earning an earful whine from Bokuto, "I was just kidding, Keiji! Your clothes might just rip, y'know?" peppering apologetic kisses on his cheeks, nuzzling his nose on his side.

"But you know, since I'm off tomorrow."

That made his head turn back to his gaze, meeting yet again another pair of hungry eyes.

"Why don't you train with me wearing my jersey now, hm?"

[livayl]

when allergies (sneak) attack

- Or how Azariah met Sofia -  Summary: Azariah never had allergies before. Which is why she does not pay that much attention to the nagging itch and growing congestion she experiences after jogging outside. At least not until it keeps lingering and getting worse. Right next to that sweet baker´s food fair stall of all things.   This time no spelled out sneezes. But they and all the urgently growing tickles and congestion are thoroughly described. ;)  CW: I´ve mentioned mess/spray/wet sneezing and sniffling several times but it is not super descriptive. Also mention of food since it´s a food/bakers fair the two are at. Some cussing because Azariah tends to do that. Even inwardly.  Fic starts under the cut

Azariahs gaze wandered over the aisles and the various goods stacked up not sky but at least top shelf high. All peeking through the various food stalls where one looked more promising than the next. She normally wasn´t one who´d dive into shopping trips and crowded places for fun. But there certainly were exceptions: Like pushing her way through overcrowded streets to be rewarded with the newest fine clothing at any kind of fancy men's tailor. And the extra sweet topping of politely voiced confusion some of these suffered from when they noticed that, yes indeed, she was the customer. And wanted to try on this, that, and oh! Please give me the black Tom Ford one with the grey silk tie, too. Thank you. Instead of just searching a practical gift for her not existing boyfriend, fiancé or husband. Not that she would say no to some new cuff buttons herself. One could never have enough of them: Silver, gold, black, with engravings, all those different shapes... Azariah wasn´t one for wearing jewelry but surely did not mind gently adorning a suit to make it rise to the occasion even more. The other one was visiting various kinds of foods markets and the attached shops. Or going all in with this big ass fair packed to the brims with various baked goods, the sweetest treats and mouthwatering, savory deliciousness. Plus the perfect ingredients to create all that herself once back at home. The air was filled with various kinds of alluring smells. One more tempting than the other but never mingling to a point of being uncomfortable. At least that´s how it should have been. Azariahs nose was way too congested to tell. That damned thing had been a mess ever since she´d left the house for a run this morning. It had worsened more and more until running properly had become an actual challenge. And even a steamy shower had not properly managed to clear her sinuses. Instead only provoked a fit of harsh, draining sneezes that had forced her to brace both hands against the wall. They had left her breathless and dizzy without a bit of satisfaction. Or soothed need. Instead only intensified the pressuring congestion that did not vanish with the help of nose blowing either. It was weird and infuriating. To a point were she was so hopelessly stuffed up that her lips had to stay softly parted to breathe.

The irritation wasn´t stopping at that though. There was that constant buzzing itch that teased and tickled insistently enough to make Azariahs eyes water. And oh my fucking god those itched, too. Sometimes that constant, unwanted stimulation would rise and prompt her sharp, lightly downturned nose to twitch in response. Then tuck on her lips. Contort them into a snarl before her mouth opened for a series of urgent, gasping hitches. She´d cuss under her shaking breath and turn aside from anyone around her. Arm raised up hastily enough to show the fluent movement of muscles under her midnight blue button down shirt. She´d hover above the crook for a bit. Face helplessly scrunched up, long nostrils flaring back even further. Body tensed and chest moving with fruitless, teasing build ups that would crest in a frustrating and embarrassedly voiced false start. Right followed by another inaudible curse as she´d dab at her eyes. Or wince at a few very congested sniffles that made her whole sinuses burn. All that only to be forced to give a repeat performance a few minutes later. So much for enjoying her rare free day by eating piles of tasty food. Or gathering some inspiration for new dessert creations. Her nose seemed to have other plans apparently. And those were distracting enough to demand Azariahs full attention. Begrudgingly but undeniably so.

She was just about to head towards a bathroom to, well, do something against that. Get some relief and pause from that nagging, vexing tickle with whatever solutions some privacy could offer. But it seemed like her nose had other plans with these intentions as well. The lingering irritation sparked to live with irresistible force and pushed her past the point of no return. Azariahs breath first caught in her chest as if surprised by the sudden ferocious urge that tickle had caused. Then her eyes fluttered and face contorted with a deep, gasping inhale that so clearly spoke of need it was audible. She shuddered forward, stumbled amidst two steps, and fiercely sneezed into the crook of her right arm. The sound was loud and made the throat scraping quality clearly audible even when forcefully muffled. It left her hazy and a palpable damp spot on her shirt. Which would have made her curse again if not for apparently needing to repeat that as well. Right away, it seemed. Azariahs eyes had barely opened again when they fluttered shut anew in a flurry of black lashes dappled in irritated tears. She shook her head. Desperately, as if too ward off what could not be contained anyways. Then hid her face behind the still raised arm again as the second sneeze hit. Full bodied, demanding and unable to be restrained in any kind of way. Still, it wasn´t enough to soothe the burning tickle, that itch so hard to satisfy. Just fuelled another one. Azariah subconsciously braced herself against a nearby stall, almost crumpled against it. Her left arm came up to aid the cover the other one seemed lacking. Right in time for a deep inhale that titled her head back. Exposed widely flaring nostrils just above her forearm. A gasp before another forceful sneeze was muffled against the soft fabric. It made Azariah wince with the sound that was sharp and throaty yet underlined with spraying wetness. She shuddered at the short-lived aches the sneeze had left in it´s wake. Among a shit load of loosened congestion she tried to sniff back with a miserably gurgling, crackling sound. At least that wrenching triple seemed to have taken the sting out of the irritation. For now. Azariah blinked a bit dazedly in search for anything that could stem the flood threatening to leak out. Her fiercely blushed nose was securely tucked into her sleeve. Scrunched up with wet sniffles that were desperate enough to raise her shoulders. She was so occupied with her fruitless hunt for anything to mop up the mess that a sudden, very close voice startled her. "Bless you. Do you need a tissue?" It asked and was soft spoken but not timid. Just very gentle. "Well, it´s not tissues but napkins... Lots of those at least." The woman added and there was a hint of friendly amusement underlining the words.  Azariahs cheeks flushed in the same tone of her nose when she turned around to face the shop keeper. So that was the thing keeping her upright. The counter of  a small shop that sold cookies. Lots of them. "Jeez. I´m very sorry. That probably wasn´t the best thing to do around here." Azariah said with an apologetic smile that was still hid by her sleeve yet honest enough to make her grey eyes crinkle around the corners. Her voice sounded about as rough as she felt right now. "I swear I´m not sick. It´s just all that...Whatever that is..." She used her free hand to gesture to her face and teary eyes before taking the napkins and turning around. How could whatever that fucking was still tickle after all that? Her nose felt ready to fall off. "Allergies?" The woman asked in that same mellow tone that seemed also a little sympathetic now. A melodious accent curled around the vowels. It was very nice to listen to. Azariah shook her head, back still facing the shopkeeper. She had never suffered from allergies before. Why should that start today out of all times? Azariah thought and started to blow her nose as unobtrusively as possible. It ended to be an excruciating long, messy affair that used up the pile of napkins she´d been given. Well, completely destroyed those. Great, very appealing. "Excuse me." Azariah mumbled. Then turned around again and dumped the crumpled mess into a nearby bin. Still her nose had decided to keep leaking which made her sniff thickly again. She scowled at herself.   "... Aaand excuse me again. I should probably go off to be gross somewhere else." Azariah said with a sheepish laugh that was a little hoarse around the edges. Thus perfectly matching that scratchy feeling lingering in her throat. And irritating tingle that seemed to have settled in her nasal cavities for today. "Please take these with you then. And get well soon." The woman smiled. And damn, it was a gorgeous little gesture: Curving those plush lips upward. Then dimpling her softly shaped cheeks before sparking even more life into her big, brown eyes. Friendly, warm and crowned by long lashes. Colored in a tone of rich chocolate like the mass of long hair barely to be tamed by that thick braid. It looked so silky as it disappeared behind nicely rounded shoulders. Ah fuck, Azariah felt herself blush again. Even more so when she finally noticed the folded up napkins held out to her. Sure, just keep thinking about beautiful eyes and pretty smiles when your nose is dripping all over the place. That´s the way to go. "Yeah! Right. See you-huh no... I meant: Thank you!" Azariahs wince morphed into another sheepish, yet thankful smile. Then she turned on her heels to tactically retreat to the bathroom. Or well, maybe fleeing there. Just a little. She was sure to hear a friendly, good natured giggle trail after her. And somehow could not help but feel like she wanted to listen to it again. Even if it meant making a dorky mess out of herself.  

Maybe Azariah could recover from that embarrassment and come back to buy some of those cookies. To make up for the life-long supply of napkins she had just used. Besides, they had looked very tasty after all. Who could say no to them. They were awesome. And as an apology in case her sudden fit  had scared away some customers. That was just polite, right? She knew how to be polite after all. Mostly.   Maybe, after she´d manage to get her nose back under control and herself presentable again. For the...Cookies...That had been very nice... Looked very nice. Huh. Azariah groaned at her reflection in the mirror that looked about as flustered as she felt.

[junkyardlynx]

You like scary stories? Good. I’ve got one. Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, or whatever. Who fucking knows. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t just one shared fever dream between seven stupid kids. Except the part where the dream was real. Has to be real now that I think about it. Anyway. I’m rambling. About all I can do, right now. Haha. How sad. 

The year was 1998.

Good year.

Goldeneye came out in 1997, so it was really the year 0001 AG to me and my friends. We fucking loved Goldeneye.

I was seventeen and I lived alone in a small town in northwest Indiana. It’s farm country’s farm country. I’d been orphaned and bounced around since I was ten, but being nearly eighteen and relatively well-behaved was reason enough for the state to turn me loose with my inheritance. Quitters. You could stand at one edge of the town and spit to the other end. We had one bar, an elementary school, a post office, a vet, and a corner store. It sucked, but it was cheap and somewhat near the only living family I still had. I lived just above the post office and vet, which was probably the only really neat part of town, so I guess I had something going for me. Add a shitty 1988 Ford Probe bought at cost from a frustrated dealership into the mix and I was up street.  

My uncle Mike lived alone too, a forty minute drive away out by the county line road. He had a pretty nice farm house to himself after my aunt Sherry filed for divorce due to her own extramarital affair. I guess when you’re surrounded by woods on all sides and the only things to keep you company are a host of chickens, a couple turkeys, a goat, a dog, and a...fucking peacock, you kinda get antsy for some excitement. I suppose a two story barn and a grain silo aren’t exciting enough. Anyway. They hadn’t taken me in after my parents died because they had their own problems and I understood. Couldn’t force a kid on someone who wasn’t going to take proper care of it.

Mike was headed into the city for the weekend to shack up with this girl he was into. He did this from time to time, too awkward to ask her to move in with him and too shy to accept her offer, so they just had their trysts. Wasn’t really my business. He called me after I got home on Friday from classes and immediately launched into his request.

“Hey killer, I’m going to see Mary this weekend. Can ya hold down the fort for me? Just feed the animals once a day and don’t let Garfield eat anything dumb.”

“Uh, sure.” 

Garfield was the goat’s name.

I watched him eat the license plate off “Uncle” Van’s...van, once. His name was Van, he was a friend of Mike’s aaaaaand he owned a van. I guess life works like that sometimes, predictable and all. Anyway, Garfield would eat literally fucking anything near his big dumb idiot mouth, like most goats. 

“And uh, I think there’s a bunch of beer in the fridge that’s gonna go bad. Could you do me a favor and get rid of it, bud?”

I could hear the wink through the receiver. I grinned as I pinned the receiver between my shoulder and ear, rummaging around through the cupboards to find my little book of phone numbers.

“Oh yeah, sure thing. Wouldn’t want to have bad beer hanging around in the fridge.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. It better all be gone when I get back. Love ya, kid.”

“Love you too, man. Have a good weekend.”

With an audible click, the other line hung up and I was already dialing people’s numbers. Robert was first, as he was my best and most radically tight brother-man. 

“What’s up, Dingus Kong?” 

Ever since he was twelve, he had the voice of a full-time, carton-a-day smoker. I was honestly a little jealous.

“There’s a beer leak at my uncle’s and we have to plug it up. Call Louis and Alex and make their dumb asses come out. You know the address?”

“Hell yeah, dude. Can I invite Jay?”

“What do I look like, a cop? Of course you can. Saves me the trouble.”

“Cool, later dickless.”

“Peace.”

It wasn’t long until I’d roped Robert, Louis and Jay into things, along with Alex, Laura and June. Alex and Louis had been dating forever and were pretty much attached at the hip, while I had a thing for June. A very quiet, subdued thing, because I operated under the assumption that no one was ever interested and that any thought to the contrary was pointless and asking for trouble. 

We met up at my uncle’s house around 9. They’d pitched in and brought a shit ton of snacks but no one brought any actual food, so our diet that night was going to consist of...Natty Light, snack cakes and chips, pretty much. High school kids eat worse on a daily basis, so no one really cared. I remember being shocked at just how packed the fridge was with shitty Natty Light. Good thing I had good friends.

It was a pretty relaxed atmosphere - Louis and Alex were touchy in the corner of the living room, already a couple beers deep. Robert, Laura and Jay were playing Goldeneye on the Nintendo 64 in the den. They had a penalty game where you had to drink when you died and if you were that fucking prick that picked Oddjob, you both had to take a drink at the start of the round and two when you died. It was fair, believe me. Fuck people who pick Oddjob. 

That pretty much just left June and I. We relaxed in the kitchen, shooting the shit and laughing at each other’s bad jokes. Sometimes we’d look out over the kitchen counter and down into the den / living room - the farm house’s design was always kind of odd to me, but I liked it. The whole house was a one story with a basement. You could come in through the glass sliding door and be right in the living room / den area, then turn right and go up four or five stairs to reach the bedrooms and the turnoff into the kitchen / office area where the front door was. The kitchen had a very open structure, with the sink looking down on the den, and you kinda felt like a commander if sat there and just watched everyone. So I did.

“Hey, Charles?” 

“What’s up?” 

I turned back towards June, taking another sip from that honestly kinda shitty beer in my hand. Ah, the taste of youth - cheap alcohol obtained through immoral or subversive means, like a really cool uncle.

“We should go out to the barn.”

“Why the hell and fuck not?” 

I put on some bravado, but honestly, my uncle’s farm creeped me out. I’d stayed here for the summer once and I swore I could hear things swaying in time with the tall grass as the sun started to die. An animal would go missing every now and then, but my uncle always shrugged it off as coyotes. Never really felt like coyotes, but who was I to disagree when he was the one that lived here all the time?

“Hey, everyone! We’re going outside, time to get up in the hayloft and be stupid.”

I heard a chorus of replies and the click-whrrr of a tube television being powered off, followed by a rowdy collection of feet stomping up carpeted steps. Everyone poured into the kitchen, grabbing things like twinkies and cold hot dogs and new beers. It wasn’t long before we took the party outside, flicking the floodlights on the house on for comfort as much as visibility. We ambled as a drunken mass, slowly making our way towards the faded red barn. 

I have no idea why the barn was so fucking huge, given that less then ten animals lived there. The space was equipped for a sizable amount of large livestock like cows and horses, but all that it held was a collection of idiot birds with too much love and not enough sense. A ladder leading up to the hayloft poked through a square, and we began our inebriated ascent. 

It wasn’t long before we settled into a circle, talking about nothing in particular on the warm wooden floor of the loft. June had taken a seat next to me, so of course, I overthought absolutely everything before determining there was no way she was into me because why would she be? She was way too cool and cute. It was obvious. 

Somehow, we got onto the topic of scary stories. Spooky scary skeleton time. I made up some dumb thing about a cannibal cult in the woods, but it wasn’t very thought out, so everyone gave me shit. Robert just thrust his beer into the air and yelled “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, IT’S ALIENS”, which got a laugh out of all of us. It finally came around to June, who began to tell us about La Llarona, a crying ghost lady in Mexican folklore. 

It was actually pretty spooky until you realized June was like, four foot fucking eight with the voice of an adorable church mouse, and then you were unable to take it seriously. 

We swapped a few more before silence descended on us, slow and natural. The workman’s lamps that I’d lit with a long trigger lighter burned, casting shadows along the walls and illuminating our faces. I smiled as I realized June’s head had come to rest on my right shoulder, feeling not unlike someone blessed by the attention of a regal crow.

“Dude. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry, Illberto.” 

I waved him off with my left hand before looking around. Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my hands on it. Honestly speaking, it was kinda like someone had some bodacious body odor going on and tried to cover it up with some sort of perfume. I took as...well, as discreet a sniff as possible, trying to see if it was one of us. 

I don’t think it was, because the more I smelled it, the more I realized it smelled less like body odor and more like that strange stench of death. Sickly sweet, putrefaction rendering the body of something no longer alive into components for bacteria to consume. I kinda wrote it off as dead mice somewhere since I was an idiot at 17. (I still am an idiot, but I was a bigger idiot. Harder head. More impressively stupid. Anyway.) The smell was bothering me though, so I gently pushed June’s head off my shoulder and stood up.

“Since Mr. Crunch and Munch wants some food, I’m gonna run back to the house and grab some chow and booze. Anyone want anything in particular?”

No one really had an idea of what they wanted, so the group just started chanting “FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE” at me. I laughed and nodded, giving a sort of half-wave to June who just smiled at me the whole time as I went to climb down the ladder.

Too bad the ladder was gone.

I groaned in annoyance, turning around to address everyone.

“Very cool, who fucked with the ladder?”

“What are you talking about, brother-man?”

Louis piped up, head resting on top of Alex’s. I gestured dramatically at the square hole in the floor, then pantomimed the act of climbing the ladder.

“There was a ladder here. It’s gone now.”

“It probably fell, Charlie.” 

There went Laura, being the voice of reason. I shrugged in assent. Stop making sense, god damn it.

“I’ll just pull a Spidey-boy and jump down. It’s like, ten feet.” 

Something in my head kept telling me that people can die from slipping and falling on ice, but I ignored it. I just had to brace myself, land on my feet and not hit my brain cage. Really simple. 

I walked back over to the hole in the hayloft, sitting down and scooching to the edge. That fucking smell punched me right in the nose once again, pungent and sweet. I almost stop then, but I don’t really wanna look like a goon in front of June. Uh, June and everyone else, that is.

So I stuck my foot down into the oddly deep darkness of the barn below. 

Something wet and hot smacked against it, nearly wrapping around my exposed ankle.

I yelped perhaps the most pathetic sound known to man and physically extricated myself from the hole by leaping up and jumping back. Everyone laughed of course.

“What’s up, penis pump?”

Fuck off, Robert.

“Either the turkeys have really long and slimy necks now, or something down there just grabbed my fucking ankle.”

“Very funny, Charles.” Alex fixed me with a stare, assuming I was taking the piss out of everybody. Holy fuck, I wished I was.

“I’m serious, you assholes.” I’d thrust my right leg out, showing everyone my ankle and foot. A reddish brown goop clung to it, thick and viscous. The smell was emanating from it, and everyone seemed to have taken notice to it. Unless they started retching for a different reason, like my ankle being particularly abhorrent.

“Brother-man, dude, what the fuck is that?”

You’re asking me, Louie Louie?

“Yeah, that’s a negative Ghost Rider, I have no idea. I’m gonna chill up here for a bit, if someone else feels like Rambo, they can go down.” 

I took off my button up and used it to wipe the goo off of my ankle, but the smell seemed to have set in. I noticed a burning sensation on my skin that increased in intensity as I wiped, but it soon faded to a dull throbbing, becoming the least of my worries. In that time, Louis got up to check out the hole.

 He returned to where Alex was, face pale and stiff. 

That’s when we heard it.

“veerrrryfufufufu-”

The sound stopped, then started again. Almost like someone starting a sputtering car engine.

“Verrrrry cocococococo-cokkkkkkkkkhhssssh. Wshooo fufufufufuf. Wshoooo fufufufuckt wishlatter?” 

You ever have someone come up to you and say “hey, we need to talk” and you feel your stomach drop out of your body and onto the floor? 

Yeah, that. That’s the feeling I felt, but way worse. After all, someone wanted to know who fucked with the ladder. Someone who couldn’t string together two words if they wanted to, and they desperately wanted to.

We’d all crammed ourselves into the back of the hayloft, the seven of us together. Oppressive darkness clung to the places not illuminated by the lamps, and the long lighter lay a good ten feet away from us. No one moved to get it. We heard it again and again, some twisted mockery of a voice continually asking who fucked with the ladder. Then it asked again, in my voice.

“Very cool. Who fucked with the ladder?”

Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I shook my head wordlessly as it asked again, perfectly, matching my rhythm and cadence and tone. 

“Hey, if this is a joke because you thought the Goosebumps books were high literature, we’re gonna string you up by your earlobes dude.”

“Fuck off. It’s not. You think I got bored and recorded me fucking around before you all got here? With the tape recorder I don’t fucking own?”

I was hostile.

We were all on edge.

“I don’t know, were you man?”

“Don’t start with me, Robert.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re a lazy piece of shit. I know you wouldn’t do this.”

“I swear to god.”

The tension was almost lifted until we heard that wet smacking again, like someone slapping a steak on pavement. It was hilarious until you realized it was probably either something dead being slammed around, or some part of the mysterious thing’s anatomy. The smacking persisted as it mercifully ceased it’s questioning, realizing it’s bait wasn’t working. Slowly, the wet squelching of flesh against concrete grew quiet and far away and the stench that pervaded the air began to thin.

I appraised everyone and jerked my head back at the hole in the hayloft.

“Okay. Okay. We’re gonna drop down and run to the house.”

“Is there any better option you have that isn’t ‘jump down and say hi to the crazy stinky murder rapist’ below us?”

“Not really, Alex. Sorry.”

“Alex and I can stay up here,” Louis offered, but she looked at him with her mouth agape.

“Are you dumb, Louis? I’m not staying in that barn alone with this thing. No, really, are you an idiot?”

I looked at Louis with a kind of knowing glance, knowing he was just trying to help out and allay her fears. Couldn’t really blame her, though.

“He’s just looking out for what you want to do. Anyway, we should all go. I’ll go down first and keep a look out while everyone comes down. C’mon.”

I honestly don’t know where I found the balls of steel I was now equipped with, but I was thankful. I think it was just this overwhelming sense of “we have to go now or something bad is going to happen.” Without giving anyone a chance to reply, I broke away from our little heard and took a running start at the hole, leaping down it before my rational mind could catch up.

I let my legs hit and then tucked myself into a roll to rob the fall of it’s momentum, coming up unscathed. I glanced around, greeted by deadly...nothing. Just silence. It wasn’t until I looked at the ground that I noticed it was covered in a thick layer of that reddish-brown goop, and it stunk horribly. I started to gag but I had the sense to bite it down. No point in putting more disgusting fluids on the floor.

“Jump down! C’mon!”

I shouted up and June practically leapt into my arms, so I caught her and set her down, giving her a tender smile. She was all of four foot eight and ninety pounds, so it wasn’t really a feat of athleticism. Of course, Robert came next, and my knees buckled as his six foot frame met mine with that peculiar rapport we had. 

“No smile for me?”

“I swear, dude.”

I swore a lot, apparently.

The rest followed in suit until eight of us stood in the barn, devoid of animals as it was.  I hoped they’d just run off or sought shelter, but another part of me said that wasn’t the case. I exhaled roughly and looked at our group before nodding.

“Okay, we gotta run. I don’t know when that thing’s coming back, but I can already smell that weird stink getting stronger. I think we’ll be safe in the house since we can look the doors and call the cops.”

“Wait, cops? Dude, we’re doing a little thing called underage drinking.”

Thank you for stating the obvious, Louis.

“Oh, yeah! Way better to get murdered and eaten. You’re right.”

“Point taken.” 

We all murmured our assent before taking one last look around. The lamps burned, slowly dimming as their fuel began to run out. I think we left the lighter up there. Not that it mattered, I guess. I reached out and took June’s petite hand, tugging her gently towards the house.

“Let’s go.”

We began to do an awkward sort of power walk, too scared to run and draw it’s attention but not intent on going any slower than we had to. Our group of seven began to cut across the field, towards the shining lights of the farmhouse. 

A horrific wet SMACK from behind us broke that fragile discipline that kept us calm. A plaintive sort of gurgling howl, like a tiger braying it’s dying cry inside of a charnel pit spurred us on, and I roughly pulled on June’s hand. Her fingers slipped from mine for a moment, but her strong and lengthy fingers found mine, slick with what I assumed was sweat. I didn’t bother looking back as the warm porch lights flooded my vision. I let go of the hand I was holding and turned around to regard our group of eight, making sure everyone was there.

Wait.

Eight?

June, Robert, Louis, Alex, Laura, Jay, and myself. Seven. I glanced at my hand, realizing it was slick with that peculiar fluid. I kept the gorge rising in my throat down, somehow.

Swallowing both vomit and my fear, I began to inspect everyone before herding them inside, one by one. There wasn’t a face I didn’t recognize, but there was an extra person here. I got June, Alex, Robert, Laura and Louis into the house before I realized it. 

There were two Jays.

“Hey Jake, come inside.”

Jay kinda gave me a weird look, wondering if I was actually an idiot. The right Jay, anyway. The other one just slowly started to walk forward.

“Hey, I said Jake come inside man. Practice your manners dude.”

My stare was insistent on the real Jay’s, begging him to come in and not make a scene. He shrugged and stepped inside, and only a moment later I was behind him, slamming the sliding glass door so hard I thought I’d shatter. 

The Jay that wasn’t Jay pressed it’s face to the glass and that fetid liquid began to pour from it’s nose as it’s now-malformed hand began to tap lightly on the glass. What looked like clothes began to slough off in thick puddles of what looked to be flesh, pooling on the patio.

“Come inside. Hey. Manners. Come inside. Hey. Come inside.” 

Robert had noticed what was going on and yelled in what I’m sure he’d want me to report was a very manly and commanding shout. Basically, he screamed like a little bitch. Everyone else noticed and booked it up the sort little landing to the second tier of the house, not willing to look at what was happening anymore.

I couldn’t look away. It gently tapped at the glass,  as a second figure approached from the darkness, eventually pressing it’s face to the glass.

My face.

I watched my own face melt away into nothing, forming a featureless expanse of skin with two unseeing and empty eye sockets. The me that wasn’t me tapped politely on the glass like a door-to-door salesman, asking to be let in.

That sure wasn’t fucking happening. In a haze, I waddled backwards, reaching for the phone that sat on the coffee table by the sofa in this 70′s decor mess of a living room.

It wasn’t there. The cord lay neatly on the table, but the entire phone was gone. It looked deliberate, which means that...well, it meant that my uncle took it with him.

Something clicked in my mind, but I buried it as I pedaled backwards slowly, approaching the display cabinet that held my grandmother’s prized compound bow. I heard from my uncle that she’d been an avid hunter into her 90′s and only passed due to the ravages of...well, a car wreck. I was never more thankful to have a badass relative I’d never met than when I pulled that compound bow out of the display cabinet and nocked an arrow.

Never mind the fact that the last time I went bow hunting was when I was like, twelve.

I stared down the two creatures, still begging to be let in in my voice. My hands trembled even as I began to draw back the heavy string. God damn, grandma, how strong were you? What the hell. 

I strafed up the steps, muscles in my arms screaming for release, but I told myself that they couldn’t come in unless they were invited. It was just a glass door, and these things weren’t dumb, apparently. I don’t know what they were. I’d met strange things in the woods around the house, but never anything like this. Obviously. The surreality of it all made it seem absurd to even question what they were. 

It wasn’t until I reached the kitchen with everyone else that I could slowly release the tension and lower the bow, though I kept the arrow nocked and ready. I gave everyone in the kitchen a wary nod as they huddled together, staying deathly quiet. Looking over the kitchen counter and down into the den, I could see one still tapping on the glass. The other was gone.

A soft knock at the door by the office let us know where the other had wandered off to. It repeated a broken string of words in my voice, asking to be let in, saying it was very cool. It’d be humorous if it wasn’t fucking terrifying. 

Wordlessly, I huddled everyone back into the hallway and lead them to my uncle’s room, unlocking it with the key I had. It was the furthest bedroom away from everything else and had a clear line of sight to the hallway, so if they somehow broke their self-imposed rules, I could at least take a steady shot. The door creaked open and the bedroom lay before us as I flipped on the light.

My uncle’s room was surprisingly sparse and barren. No personal effects remained and you could tell where the furniture had been moved in a hurry, like someone was looking for something. It gave the feeling of someone that wasn’t coming back, and the discontent in my heart grew. 

“Yeah, think he’s been moving stuff over to his girlfriend’s place.” 

I said to no one in particular, placating questions before they could come out. A barren mattress lay on a box spring in the corner.

“Let’s stay in here tonight. It’s not gonna be comfortable, but a couple of people can take the bed and the rest of us can take the floor. I’ll keep watch.”

“Charles...”

Robert sounded concerned for once. I laughed. I glanced back and his face soured before he smiled.

“Nevermind, you’re still a penis pump.”

Everyone, still slightly drunk and nervous, began to occupy their own space in the empty room. I sat against the open doorframe, bow laying on my lap, trained down the hallway. Minutes slipped into hours, and everyone began to pass into a light sleep.

Everyone except me.

The sight of the flesh sloughing off their mutable frames was burned into my mind. Not much sleep to be found after that.

Throughout the night, I heard taps all around the house, like a diligent inspector checking for termites in wood. If I strained my sleepless ears, I could hear my own voice rattling through the walls. The deathly sweet stench of the barn had returned, permeating my brain and setting up residence there. 

Once or twice, I thought I heard tapping and murmuring at the single window in my uncle’s bedroom, but surely that wasn’t possible. It was a good eight feet of the ground, as the room sat on the second “tier” of the house. I dozed for a moment and the tapping seemed to grow more and more furious, so I shook myself awake. I began to dig the bowstring into my finger, rubbing it up and down, fraying my own skin until it bled. 

I felt like I was going to go insane. 

A few long hours later and the sun began to rise, banishing the tapping noise with it and the scent after that. I rose, looking around at the sleeping faces of my friends, relieved. I looked around the empty room once more and went to close my eyes before I realized there was reddish goop smeared on the window of my uncle’s bedroom. 

I’d been watched, all night.

All of us had. 

How many had there been?

Enough to replace us?

Did it matter?

Adrenaline flooding my exhausted body, I crept around the house and checked every window, every door. They were all smeared with handprints, fingerprints, imprints of faces traced in that corpse-goo. My stomach roiled heavily, the beer and junk food of the night before threatening to come up.

We were supposed to be a sacrifice, weren’t we?

The copious amounts of beer. The lack of a phone. My uncle’s personal effects all gone from his room. I suppose the rest, even grandma’s bow, was replaceable to him. Including me.

I woke everyone up and told them we should leave. No one fought it, considering we’d survived the night by listening to me. It was a sort of hollow and empty accolade, but I’d take it. 

As Robert and June piled in my Ford Probe outside, I snuck a peek at the barn. Dark red stains and the remnants of feathers, fur and flesh stained the outside of it’s semi-dilapidated structure, as if the animals had been killed by being thrown at the walls in anger. I swallowed dryly, realizing what those wet thuds and smacks had been. 

We spent the rest of the weekend together, all seven of us. One night at Robert’s, the rest of the day at June’s. I tried several times to contact my uncle, but his girlfriend’s landline was disconnected and his emergency cell phone wasn’t picking up. 

Abandoned twice by the family that wouldn’t even take me in, I guess. 

I never found out what those things were. My uncle’s house was marked as abandoned and reclaimed by the bank, eventually being sold at auction for dirt cheap. I didn’t care. I’d stayed away from the forested areas and anywhere approaching natural, and even took to a vegetarian diet for a few months. 

Eventually the memory faded, and years later I had almost forgotten about it. Life went on, and I remained in that cozy little apartment above the vet’s office and the post office. 

Until tonight. 

When I smelled something sticky-sweet, like what the insides of a pitcher plant must be.

Where something tapped at the door to my apartment, begging to be let in. 

Where my own voice begged me to be let in.

[ijustreallylovezebras]

Breathe

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The reader grew up with the Avengers, she doesn’t know how to talk to them about some things (this can kinda link in with Family, but it has no direct correlation really)

Requested: No

Warnings: Panic attacks

“Peter?” I mumble, pushing the door open to the boy’s room. The lights are all off and in the dimness I can just make out Peters figure sprawled across the bed, half of his body not under the covers as a result of the warm summer night.

It was a routine at this stage. Since moving into the tower for week days (he still stayed with May on the weekends) I found myself coming into Peter’s room often. He didn’t mind, though. Sometimes he would get nightmares about missions he had been sent on that hadn’t gone entirely his way and would be appreciative of the company.

One of us made sure to wipe FRIDAY every morning of the footage of me sneaking into his room, both of us dreading the day that one of the Avengers would discover our relationship that we had been keeping so well hidden.

I took a few steps forward into his room, the feeling of uncertainty creeping up on me as it always did, even though I knew he didn’t mind me being there. Even though I had been doing it for months now.

“Peter?” I ask again, a little louder. Peter murmurs something incoherent but shifts over to the side nearest the wall, allowing me space to clamber in next to him. 

Even in his half-asleep state he wraps me in his arms, bringing me closer to press a kiss on my forehead.

“Love you,” sleep slurs his words but they make me smile nonetheless as I snuggle closer into his body, seeking comfort I found so difficult to find now in the warmth of my boyfriends body.

“Love you too,” I murmur, nuzzling my head into his next to press a kiss there before curling up, content that I would actually get some sleep.

“You need to tell them,” Peter says the next morning over breakfast. The kitchen was empty, some of the team still asleep, those who were awake having already eaten and gotten to work. Peter was awake and dressed for school, I was sat on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal, still in my pyjamas.

“About what? Us or...?”

“Both,” Peter says, coming over to the counter and placing his bowl in the sink, going to wash it up but I put a hand on his wrist.

“I can do it,” I tell him, smiling a little. Peter chuckles, moving so he’s stood between my legs, his arms on either side of me on the counter, caging me in. I put my breakfast to the side and wrapped my arms around him, nestling my face contentedly into his neck. “I don’t want to tell them,” I murmur and Peter’s hands slide up my body so that one is in my hair and the other is holding my lower back.

“I know it’s hard, but you need to, Y/N, they can help you,” 

“You help me,” I point out and Peter sighs, moving back to kiss me.

“But I can’t be with you all the time, especially since they don’t know about us,” 

“We could tell them about us,” I point out, kissing him once more.

“I’m too young to die, Y/N,” Peter says seriously and I giggle, placing my head back on his shoulder, loving the feeling of being close to him.

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you,” I tell him, yawning a little and Peter hums in agreement.

“I’ll see you this evening,” he says, pulling away but I hold onto his hand, hopping off the counter to pull him nearer to me again for a kiss.

“I love you,” 

“I love you too,”

Peter leaves, picking up his backpack from the seat he had left it on, grinning at me over his shoulder as he leaves for school. Half of me, as it always did in the mornings when Peter left, wished that I was going to Midtown too.

“FRIDAY, can you please delete the footage of Peter and I in the kitchen?” I ask.

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N,”

“What you got today then, Y/N/N?” Clint asks, coming into the kitchen a few minutes later, bag slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to return home to his family.

“Pot of coffee on the counter,” I tell him, returning my gaze to the history text book that lay open in front of me.

“Korean war?” Clint asks after pouring himself a mug of coffee and sitting next to me, pulling the open text book over so it sat in front of him and he could read the information as well. 

“You heading home, Uncle Clint?” I ask, jotting down another note before looking at him.

“Yeah,” he confirms, giving me a smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle up. “They miss having you around, Y/N, you should come visit some time,”

“I will, I just got a lotta work,”

“There’s a lot of work to do on the farm, too, kid. That’s more important than this bullshit,” Clint tells me, closing my book and I groan loudly.

“Uncle Clint!” My uncle just gives me a mischievous smile as Steve, Bucky and Sam come into the room, dripping with sweat from their morning runs.

“I won,” Bucky informs me, going over to pour a glass of water from the tap as Steve comes over to kiss the top of my head in greeting, as he did every morning.

“Morning Uncle Steve,” I say, scrunching up my nose. “You guys stink,” 

“It’s called exercise, Y/N, you should try it some time,” Sam sasses and I stick my tongue out at him.

Half a week later, Monday rolls around. I hadn’t been sleeping well as a result of Peter’s absence from the compound as he visited May, causing me to be distracted during my study periods, especially when I was trying to learn physics, a subject that I found boring regardless.

“Uncle Bruce!” I call out, walking into the science lab where Bruce was working. He lifted up his safety glasses as I came over, a smile on his face.

“Hello, Y/N,” 

“Can you help me?” I ask, waving around the physics textbook. Bruce halts my actions by taking the book from my hands at the page I had marked.

“Come on, kid,” Bruce says, leading me over to his desk and drawing up the chair from Tony’s for me to sit in as he began to talk the theorem over.

“And these are the science labs. Dr Banner will be here somewhere, probably hard at work,” Bruce and I are taken out of our study session by Tony’s voice. A mass of footsteps follow behind him and Bruce and I share a look of confusion. I can tell that there’s a little bit of horror mixed in with mine, though, as Tony rounds the corner, followed by a group of teenagers.

There’s little comfort I can find even in finding Peter’s face in the crowd of students, along with his two friends that I had met before - Ned and Michelle. My knuckles tighten involuntarily around my pen and I find myself rooted to the spot, feeling as though I was facing my worst nightmare.

“Who’s that?”

“Who’s she?”

“Is she an Avenger?” 

The whispers amongst Peter’s peers are nowhere near as quiet as they seem to imagine they are as they spot me. Tony sees me shortly after the whispers start and he gives me a grin.

“That’s Y/N,” Tony answers simply, as though that is the only introduction the teenagers need. I wish that were the case. I don’t want to know them. I don’t need to know them.

I can feel my breathing starting to get shallow as every eventuality of this meeting plays out in my head. I can’t breathe. My chest rises and falls as though I’ve just run a marathon as I attempt to gasp for air. 

“Kid, you alright?” Even Bruce’s rough voice that normally calms me down cannot stop the rapid movement of my chest. I feel like I’m drowning.

“I - uh -” I finally gain some control over my limbs as I stumble up, out of my chair. 

I gesture wildly over my shoulder, knocking into pretty much everything in my path as I hopelessly attempt to leave the lab through the back exit, not wanting to have to navigate my way through the mass of students who are gawping at me, still trying to figure out who I am.

If someone follows my exit from the lab I don’t hear them, too caught up in finding a safe spot to breathe in. I find a corner in the back hallway that I know won’t be on the tour as it’s just the short-cut from the rooms to the labs. I collapse into it, wrapping myself up as small as possible in my arms, my head buried between my knees as I just try to breathe.

“Hey, Y/N/N, you’re alright,” the voice is gentle, coaxing, but I can’t place it over the roaring mess of my thoughts. I can barely hear it. I cower further into myself, just wanting to hide. “It’s okay, Y/N, just focus on me, on my voice. It’s going to be alright, you’re going to be okay. Just focus on my voice and try to breathe with me,” a choked sob left my lips. I was trying. “I know it’s hard, but you can do it,” the voice mimics breathing and I try to focus on it, breathing as best I can with them, feeling the air rushing back into my lungs, my brain becoming less foggy by the second.

Hesitantly I lift my head, surprised to see Tony in front of me, more concern written across his face in that moment than I had ever seen before.

I allow my head to fall back against the wall behind me, closing my eyes and sobbing. I can hear Tony slowly shift towards me, moving so that he’s no longer squatted in front of me but sat next to me. His arm wraps around me and he lets me cry into his chest for a while.

“Your suit,” I mumble but Tony shakes his head, squeezing me tighter.

“I can change before I go back out there,” I sniff and allow myself to let a few more tears leak out of my eyes.

Tony was never the one who I would go to when I had an issue, particularly an emotional one. Tony was like the fun parent who I didn’t talk about serious things with but I knew loved me regardless, and vice versa. I tended to go to Steve or Bruce, even Bucky when I had an actual problem. But I hadn’t this time. I didn’t want to burden them, I felt weak like this, living with all of these incredible superheroes and struggling with fighting my own brain.

Perhaps if Thor was here then I would have told him, but he was away, trying to rebuild Asgard from its ruins. I only told Peter because I started having nightmares that woke me up screaming at night and I sought the comfort that could only be provided by cuddling him late into the night.

“Come on, kid,” Tony says, his voice soft, trying to keep me calm as he gently lifted me to my feet. “You going to be okay?” He asks me, hands on my shoulders, bending down slightly to look me in the eye. I sniff and lift a hand to wipe at my nose with my sleeve, well aware that the habit was disgusting but knowing that I looked far worse with snot on my face.

“Yeah,” my voice cracks even as I say it and Tony is quick to wrap me in a hug again.

“Go and shower, change into some pyjamas or something,” he says. “Relax, okay?” I nod, wiping away my tears and turning to walk down the back corridor, up the staircase to the rooms. “I love you kid,” Tony calls after me. That was another thing. I knew Tony loved me, he didn’t feel the need to say it often.

Steam billows out of the shower after me into my room after I change. My eye lids feel heavy and I want to just fall asleep. Peter is waiting for me, though, sat on my bed, concern written all over. He forces a smile though, opening his arms and leaning back on the bed. I collapse into him, curling up into a ball, allowing myself to be completely encased in his arms, his sweater, him.

“Are you okay?” He whispers gently and I nod. “I’m sorry I didn’t come for you,”

“It’s okay,” I mumble, trying my hardest to curl up even closer to him.

“I love you, more than anything,” Peter says, turning on his side so he can wrap his other arm around me too, pulling me as close as we can get to one another.

“I love you too,” I respond, for one not worrying all that much about one of the others finding us. I knew that one of them would come in and check up on me, Tony and Bruce would tell them about what had happened in the lab. I didn’t care though. Peter helped me to breathe easier.

“You could have told us, though, I hope you know that,” the Avengers are gathered around me and I sit on the sofa in the middle of the lounge. Peter sits next to me, holding my hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to give me reassurance.

“About both things,” Steve speaks up, raising his eyebrow at Peter who blushes and looks away but doesn’t release my hand even for a second.

“No more sneaking into each others rooms,” Bruce says and I shake my head quickly, feeling the panic growing in me at the rule.

“No, please Bruce! I can’t... I can’t sleep on my own,” I say and my words come out too quickly to be seen as natural.

“It’s not appropriate,” Bruce starts but Bucky’s frowning, looking at me confused.

“What was that?” He asks, coming forwards slightly.

“I get nightmares,” I confess and I hate the way that my voice shakes a little. “Peter... I don’t get them with him. We don’t do anything inappropriate, I promise, we just sleep,” I direct the last comment towards Bruce whose brow is furrowed as he takes in the information. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

The comment causes ruckus to break out from every hero as they all insist I have nothing to be sorry for. 

“Don’t you ever apologise for something that you can’t help,” Natasha tells me, a deep frown on her face as she stands with her arms crossed looking at Peter and I.

Wanda takes a seat next to me on the sofa and pulls me into a side-hug, ensuring that my hand can still remain securely wrapped with Peters.

“We’ll love you no matter what,” she says to me.

I smile and lean my head on her shoulder.

“How long has it been going on for?” Steve asks.

“What? This,” I gesture between Peter and I, “or... that?” 

“Either. Both,” 

“I’ve been dating Peter for about five months” I notice Peter’s smile widen at my words and I blush, still keeping my head rested on Wanda’s shoulder. “But... they’ve been happening for three,” I say.

“Three months... Since-” I nod, cutting off Sam’s unasked question.

“Are the nightmares about that?” Steve asks gently, coming forwards and crouching in front of me. I sniff and nod, retrieving my hand from Peter’s at long last to wipe the tears away before they can fall.

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sighs, coming over to crouch next to Steve, a gentle smile on his face, “I’m okay, you know that?” 

Three months ago, I had been out in town with Bucky late at night. We had been jumped and Bucky had been injured badly and the men left him bleeding out on the street. I was battered and bruised but nothing too bad but I never got over the image of Bucky lying there on the pavement, blood pouring out of him.

I nod hesitantly and Bucky is quick to hug me tightly.

“I’m okay, see? I’m not going anywhere, kid,”

As Bucky attempts to comfort me, I hear Steve talking to Peter in a quiet, hushed voice.

“Thanks for looking after her,” 

“I love her, Mr Rogers,” 

“We’ll get you help, Y/N, if that’s what you want, okay? But we don’t want you to feel forced to do anything, alright?” Tony speaks and the rest of the team are quick to agree with his words as Bucky lets me go and I sink into Peter’s side, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the love and support the team are insisting upon giving me at this present time.

“If you want to wait for Thor to return before you take any action, we can do that too,” Steve adds, knowing that I had always been especially close to the God.

“Maybe... I just don’t want to think about it right now,” I admit, letting out a little laugh and Peter kisses the top of my head.

“We have cheesecake in the fridge,” Sam points out. “We could get that and some other snacks out and watch a film?” He offers. The team look at me and I nod, grinning at the suggestion.

“Not Star Wars, though,” Wanda is quick to add and everyone looks at Peter who pulls a face.

“Told you you’d be fine,” Peter whispers to me as the team bustles about getting ready for our impromptu movie night.

“Only fine because you’re here,” I insist, curling into a ball, burrowing further beneath Peter’s arm and into his side.

“I love you,” he says, leaning down to catch my lips with his.

“Okay, I know I said I liked the kid, but you guys don’t need to do that in front of us,” Tony whines and everyone laughs.

‘Series’ Masterlist

I love writing for Peter so much! Please send in your requests!

MARVEL TAGS

@vineisdeadiwishiwas

[teuvoterafinen]

Not the Same - Part 1

Author’s Note: Alright, guys. I’ve never written hockey stuff before, but I’ve been wanting to for a while. This is going to be a multi-part, probably slow burn piece and I’m still not sure who I want the love interest to be, but Auston is definitely going to be the best friend. It’s also completely self indulgent, so tolerate me. Inspired by my crushed dreams of William playing Center next season and the possibility of Elias Lindholm getting traded in the near future.

If you want me to write anything, just shoot me an ask!

Word Count: 2212

Warnings: I curse like a sailor, drinking, references to lady balls???

April was never meant to be this cold, you thought, fumbling for your keys outside of your basement apartment. It was the only thing you could afford, having moved up to Toronto on just more than a whim. Four months ago, you were a college student in Raleigh, North Carolina and now it was 3am and you had just gotten back from your second bartending job, completely exhausted from your nearly sixteen-hour day. The key stuck in the lock and your fingers were quickly going numb, but the door eventually swung open. 

It was a decent space for what you were paying for it, just a kitchen, bathroom and an open living area. Most of your books were still in boxes against the wall and a wooden futon was serving as a bed and a couch, much to the dismay of your back. It had been hours, apart from the car ride, since you had sat down, so within seconds, both of your Dr. Martens were off and you’d laid yourself out, face down against the blanket. You probably would have fallen asleep in your work clothes if it weren’t for the abrupt chorus of a Swedish rap song screaming from your phone. You groaned as you flopped over to silence it, contemplating whether answering was a good idea, knowing exactly who it was.

On the forth ring, you decided that he would probably end up calling back if you didn’t answer.

“What the fuck, Lindy? It’s nearly four in the morning.” You garbled out the teasingly angry statement at your favorite Swede, who you’d become close friends with while you lived in Raleigh. Elias Lindholm had kept in touch with you after you’d moved to Toronto when very few of your other friends had reached out. It was less lonely now, but sometimes you still needed the familiar voice.

“Y/N, I need your help. I told a friend of mine that I had a friend, who lives in Toronto that needs a new place and I was drunk and I didn’t ask you first, but he’s looking for a roomie, so what do you think?”

“Woah, slow down. How?”

“Alcohol and golf? And Instagram?”

“Okay, yeah, makes sense,” you shrugged, knowing that that was pretty much all he’d been doing for the past week. It was really a shame that the Canes didn’t get to the playoffs this year, but you were jealous of how much free time your friend had. What you wouldn’t give to be playing golf and going to concerts. Work was always first now that you had to support yourself.

“Just hear me out, the house is apparently really nice and you wouldn’t have to deal with him or his other roommates too often. They just want someone else to be at the house so they can get a dog.” He really did know how to get you to listen. Having a backyard for a potential dog was always at the top of your list of domestic goals. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that you would be able to afford that without roommates.

“Alright, I’ll check it out. Who is it anyway?” you questioned. Suddenly you were skeptical of who he was about to set you up with. You got along well with most of the Canes, but they were generally pretty mellow. As much as you loved being social, wild parties weren’t exactly your scene and some of Elias’s friends were more than a little wild.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you heard him shout in Swedish, presumably to one of his teammates. He was speaking too fast for you to even think about keeping up, so you drifted back onto your pillow, letting him finish. “Tell the boys I say hi,” you mentioned after a brief pause. “And tell Victor he still owes me a hundred dollars. I could use the money about now.” They were on speaker at this point and you could tell it was Rask in the background. He’d had the nerve to bet you couldn’t make one save against him. You obviously weren’t going to let that slide and you managed a perfect glove save on the first shot.

“Rasky says he’ll pay your first month’s rent if you can put up with Willy for that long,” Lindy laughed, but his statement had caused you to jolt up.

“No, there is no fucking way. I’m not living with William Nylander.” There was a bit of motion on the other end, and some muffled cursing. You had met him a couple times. Last time he spilled his beer on you while incredibly drunk at a party, looked down at your then see through shirt and said “Boobs!” before turning and walking away. You laughed about it later with the guys, but Willy was not someone that you desired to spend an extended amount of time with.

“Y/N, hey,” Rask slurred, having taken the phone from the other man. “I told him you wouldn’t do it. I knew you didn’t have the balls.” You sighed, attempting to keep your cool, you tried hard not to give him the rise that he expected out of you.

“I think you have the lady balls!” Shouted an incredibly intoxicated Jeff Skinner and the rest of the group erupted into hysterical giggles. After a good minute, they seemed to calm down and Elias managed to get the phone back.

“I’m sorry, I already gave him your number,” Elias admitted. You were more than a little pissed, but it wasn’t like he was actually going to call. “I also gave him your address and told him that you didn’t work tomorrow, so he should stop by. He seemed really excited to meet you again.” There was definitely a hint of remorse in his voice, but the fact that your only day to sleep in might have been hijacked…You couldn’t help but be angry.

“It’s my one day off,” you practically whined, “I don’t want to have to deal with goldilocks. Does he even remember last time? Or did you just tell him that we met before?”

“I might have had to remind him.”

“I sent him that video of you in a bikini catching a beer and shotgunning it out of your goalie glove,” Victor added.

“I can’t fucking believe you two.”

An unfamiliar ring tone broke you from what seemed like a brief nap and you rejected the call immediately. Nothing was going to get you out of bed before at least midafternoon; the only obvious reaction was to roll over and go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later the phone rang again. Looking at your phone, this time you were conscious enough to check the time: 2 o’clock in the afternoon. You groaned and answered the probable telemarketer, the events of last night far from your mind.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” A man questioned, shaking you from sleep.

“Yeah, who is this,” your voice cracked.

“It’s William, Elias Lindholm’s friend. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Your early morning conversation was slowly coming back to you and as reluctant as you were to talk to the Leaf this soon after waking up, you found it very difficult to be rude most of the time.

Clearing your voice quickly away from your phone, you responded with fake alertness, “No, I was actually just about to make lunch. What’s up?”

“Really? That’s perfect. We were just in the neighborhood and were wondering if we could stop by.” You scrambled to your feet at the realization that you might soon be having company, rushing to grab a change of clothes and a ball cap from the dresser. There was a pair of black ripped jeans on the dresser that you always thought looked good on you. Check. Finding a clean shirt was more of a challenge. 

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” you mumbled trying to pull the fly on your pants while holding the phone to your ear. There you were, pulling on skinny jeans while on the phone, trying to make it sound like you weren’t hopping around on one leg in attempt to get the waistband over your too big ass. It crossed your mind briefly how the wealthy athlete just happening to be in your neighborhood of all places was a bit of a stretch. “I’m not super prepared for company. . . Are you guys close by?” There were a couple long seconds of silence on the other end of the line before he responded again.

“Well, we’re actually already at your place. We’ve kind of been driving around the block waiting for you to pick up.” Of course. The Toronto Maple Leafs were on your doorstep and you couldn’t find a shirt. You quickly grabbed an old band tee from the top of your laundry basket that you didn’t think you wore to work, shamefully did a sniff test and pulled it over your head.

The fact that the blonde’s statement didn’t actually come as a surprise was a testament to the amount of time you had spent around professional hockey players. None of them seemed to know the concept of making plans, they all just assumed they could show up to your apartment, eat your leftovers and watch shitty shows on your Netflix account. You would always forgive them when they asked if you’d make dinner, like a bunch of huge, rowdy kids coming in from a game of road hockey. Laughing lightly, you pulled your well-worn Blue Jays hat on over your mess of bed head and went to the kitchen to start on the lunch that you had lied about.

“Sorry…You can park on the side of the road right in front of the apartment. I’m down the stairs.”

“Awesome! We’ll be down in a minute,” he chimed before hanging up. He honestly didn’t seem so bad, now that you’d spoken to him while you were both sober. Maybe living with him would have more pluses than minuses. And Victor would pay the bill for the first month. You wouldn’t have to deal with your ceiling leaking during storms and the constant smell of old cigarette smoke that had soaked in to the cheap carpeting. You might even be able to start saving for a car. Not that you didn’t love your ‘98 Camry to bits, but she was coming up on a much-deserved retirement.

The clamor of muffled voices could be heard all the way in your kitchen through the thin front door and suddenly you were a bit nervous. You were already walking over when they knocked, unlocking the deadbolt and the main lock before pausing for a second. Nylander was one thing, but it hadn’t crossed your mind who else might be on the other side of the door. I look like a slob. I should have washed my face again, there’s probably make up under my eyes. Do I even understand the concept of looking cute anymore??? Biting the bullet, you swung the door wide to reveal Willy, Kasperi Kapanen, and, the nail in your coffin, Auston Matthews. You thanked your lucky stars that they hadn’t shown up to your door in suits, your neighbors were bound to talk about three of Toronto’s golden boys showing up on your doorstep, let alone wearing designer brands.

“Hey, Willy,” you smiled, forcing yourself to push back the sudden panic that had taken you by surprise. The three made their way through the doorway and you awkwardly reached out your hand to introduce yourself to the two that you had yet to meet. Kapanen accepted it graciously, Matthews was standing further back, closing the door behind them. “I’m Y/N…” It wasn’t exactly easy to say how you knew William, so you just avoided that part. “I’m sorry about the mess, I wasn’t really expecting to do anything today.” The blond had already gone over to sit on your futon/bed and was about to put his feet up on the coffee table when you cast a look in his direction that had a clear message attached.

“I’m Kappy,” the Finnish man introduced himself, laughing at your silent reprimand of his friend.

“Auston.” The American nodded from a distance and didn’t reach out to shake your hand. He instead took the time to look at you like everything about you confused him. The rumors of his ‘too cool’ attitude were all too true it seemed. Tall and handsome in his ripped skinny jeans that did nothing to hide his impressive physique. He leaned against the door like he owned the place, like his shitty band shirt was somehow cooler than your shitty band shirt. He oozed competitiveness and you felt yourself drowning in it. You didn’t know what game you were playing, but you couldn’t let him win. The room was tense as you sweated through your internal monologue, interrupted only by a sly smirk slipping onto Auston’s face as he reached up to pull the Jays hat off his head.

“So did you guys call each other to plan your outfits? I would say I feel left out, but I don’t think I could twin that perfectly if I tried.”

[codynaomiswireart]

Varian’s Creation

A quick drabble about the moment when Varian turned Rudiger into his feral form for the first time.  Pretty angsty (and some physical pain on the part of Rudiger), but hopefully an enjoyable read.  Man though, these two need a turnaround in their story soon!  D’x

“Ok,” Varian sighed, pushing his goggles back atop his head, swiping the back of a gloved hand across his sweaty forehead.  “I think this should do it.” 

With delicate precision, Varian sucked up some of the glowing liquid from the glass alchemy flask into a syringe, then carefully injected it into the awaiting compound bead he had on hand.  Making sure the translucent casing left no leaks, Varian picked up the bead carefully between his thumb and forefinger, studying it carefully under the light of a dwindling kerosene lamp.

“If this works,” Varian said to Rudiger, who sat nearby, his tail curled around him nervously, “this should give us the perfect distraction for our little visit to her majesty.”

Rudiger shivered, tail curling tighter at Varian’s ominous tone, and his eyes pleading as they met his master’s.  This wasn’t like him.  Varian was impulsive to be sure, often took risks, and could even be a bit cheeky if the mood took him.  But this was different.  It wasn’t the same.  Nothing had been the same since that terrible day.  It seemed that nearly every day Varian worked in a frenzy; tinkering, welding, building and compounding this, that, and the other thing, but not with the usual joyful attentiveness Rudiger once knew.  There was no joy in this new intensity that Varian had taken on.  A sort of twisted glee at times, perhaps, but not joy.

Rudiger wished so badly that he could speak, to be able to share his thoughts and feelings with the boy and steer him away from disaster.  What good was he if all he was able to do was be there? 

Well now, apparently, according to Varian, that was all about to change.  But to what end, the little raccoon wondered?

“Alright Rudiger,” Varian carried on, holding out the compound bead towards him, “Eat up little guy!”

Rudiger looked between the bead, to Varian’s face, and then back to the bead again, giving it a small sniff before backing away a pace and shaking his head. 

“C’mon Rudiger, please?” Varian asked, Rudiger’s ears pinning back at Varian’s near whining tone.  That wasn’t like him either.  “Just one little swallow, that’s all it is!  It’ll only take a few seconds.  It’ll be fine, trust me!”

A quivering coo escaped Rudiger’s throat as he turned his attention again to what Varian was offering him.  Rudiger didn’t know all of the ingredients that had gone into making it, but he certainly noticed the concentrated bimberry juice that had gone into it.  If such a small little berry could cause hyperactivity in Rudiger’s rodent cousins, what would a concentrated compound of it do to him?  He figured it must enhance his physical prowess somehow, but Rudiger didn’t very much fancy the idea of running hyperactive all over the place. 

The little raccoon shook his head a second time.

“Oh, what, now you decide not to help me!?” Varian snapped, getting right into Rudiger’s face, his free palm slamming down on the table as the little creature cowered in response.  “I thought you were on my side Rudiger!  Everyone else had turned their backs on me, but I never thought you would too!  Ooooh no, but no!  Seems I can’t trust anyone around here!  I’m this close to getting the solution to free my dad, and my own best friend stands in my way!”  Varian began pacing, his arms flailing about in wild gesturing as Rudiger watched him wide-eyed, hardly recognizing his old master as he ranted on.

“And what, you don’t trust me!?  I’ve calculated the margin of error down to the nearest thousandth, thank you very much.  But, no.  That’s fine.  You just want to stay in your own little happy woodland creature existence while my father remains encased in amber, and the only plan I have that will guarantee my enemies’ cooperation is left hanging because you wouldn’t just do this one small thing for me.  Just this one thing!  That’s all I ask!  You and everyone else just can’t stop to think for one second about how I might be-!”

Rudiger had heard enough.

With ears pinned back flat against his skull, Rudiger dashed forward, scurrying up Varian’s form in a flash, forepaws reaching for his hand that still held the bead with the serum, Varian stopping mid-sentence in surprise as he felt Rudiger climb up him.  Once he felt his paws close around the little sphere, Rudiger leapt back down his eyes boring back into Varian’s own.

“You want my help!?” Rudiger’s eyes and brief chitterings attempted to convey as Varian stared back.  “Fine!  Let’s just see what this stuff does, shall we?  Let’s see just what this plan of yours looks like!”

Before he could stop himself again, Rudiger shoved the bead into his mouth, swallowing hard as he felt it go down his esophagus.  For several minutes, both boy and raccoon waited with baited breath for something to happen.  Rudiger kept his eyes locked on Varian’s face, while Varian’s eyes scanned Rudiger’s form, looking for the slightest sign of change.

“It…it didn’t-” Varian began to say, but he never got to complete that sentence, as at that moment Rudiger doubled over, writhing and twitching on the floor in apparent agony, his terrified screeches ringing in Varian’s ears and sending invisible darts through his heart.

“RUDIGER!” Varian shouted, sounding the closest to his old self that Rudiger had heard in days as he crashed onto his knees beside the little creature, hands hovering over him, unsure of what to do.  “I- I’M SORRY!  DON’T WORRY, I’LL- I’LL STOP THIS, I’LL FIGURE OUT-!”

It was too late.

To Varian’s horror, Rudiger’s body began to expand like a shaggy balloon, his shoulders and head rapidly increasing in proportion to the rest of his body, and tawny muscles showing beneath the welts that began to form on his forelimbs.  Rudiger’s claws began to jut out of his paws like razor sharp knives, and left gashes in the stone floor beneath them as he continued to flail about.  Varian tried to quickly rise to his feet and step back, only to find his quivering legs give out from beneath him, falling back flat down on his bum as Rudiger threw his head back, a great howl of dismay escaping him as his jaws lengthened, and his teeth grew out from his mouth like the fangs of a saber-toothed cat.

“What have I done!?” was all that Varian could think as he now beheld the great beast before him.  After a few more twitches and convulsions, the creature that had once been Rudiger lay down panting, Varian feeling the vibrations of its breath through the floor beneath them and in the air around them.  Varian hardly noticed his own rapid pace of breath as he shifted back another few inches, his heart pounding hard and his eyes bulging. 

“What have I done!!?”

After another moment, the beast lay almost perfectly still.

“R-Rudi-” Varian attempted to say, his voice raw and meek as began to lean forward, extending a quivering hand towards the gigantic, hairy form.

Upon hearing his master’s voice, Rudiger’s eyes snapped open, their blank white brilliance pinning Varian under their gaze as they fixed on him.  For a whole several seconds, Varian could neither move nor force any noise to come from his throat as he looked back into those eyes, a low rumble of a growl accompanying their stare as the creature began to rise.

“AAAAH!” Varian finally let out a yelp of terror as the monster towered over him, and began approaching him with slow, heavy footfalls.  Varian shuffled his way backwards, cringing hard and hissing through his teeth as his head made contact with the stone wall of his lab.  When he opened his eyes again, he found he had come face to face with the monster’s glittering white fangs, saliva dripping off of them, and its hot breath tickling his face and tussling his hair.

Varian screwed his eyes tightly shut, hoping, praying that this was all somehow just a bad dream, and he would wake up from it at any moment.  Varian panted hard, face turned away as he could feel the behemoth come even closer.

“I hope this doesn’t hurt for long!” Varian plead as he let out a sob, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and his beating heart crying out in agony over what he had done, and what was to be done to him.

Though presently, instead of feeling long teeth and claws tearing into him, Varian felt something warm, wet, and a little bit rough swipe gently across his cheek.  With a gasp, Varian carefully opened his eyes, his frightened face now meeting the eyes of the great beast.

Its very sad, and sorrowful eyes.

“R-Rudiger?” Varian asked in a shaky voice, the great beast whimpering in reply as it buried its head in Varian’s chest, careful not to crush the boy between himself and the stone wall, Rudiger’s nose feeling every beat of Varian’s rapid heart as he held himself close.

Varian’s first feeling was one of immense relief.  It was Rudiger!  And he was still here!  He still remembered! 

But as Varian threw his arms around his most loyal companion, he also felt a harsh jerk of sick shame.

“What have I done!?”

Varian swallowed hard, refusing to let his thoughts wander too far down that road as he clutched desperately at Rudiger’s fur, and Rudiger nudged him gently in return.  There was no good letting himself feel regret.  He had come too far.  There was no going back now.

No going back…

Varian let out a few forced, gleeful huffs as he buried his face in Rudiger’s fur.  “Heh heh!  N-not gonna lie, you kind of scared me there…” he said, trying to keep the previous, confident, sassy tone that he had adopted over the last several days...but the horror of what he had done was still far to raw in his mind, and before he could stop himself, Varian began to shake with pitiful weeping.

“I’m sorry-…” he managed to choke out before crying took his voice completely, and Rudiger let out a low, cooing drone from his throat, conveying reassurance as he settled down by his master.

“I’m here,” he seemed to say.  “And I won’t leave you.  I promise.”

For the first time in a long while, Varian gladly embraced that one kept promise still left to him.

[dw-writes]

Factual Mythology - The Third Tale

HEY GUYS IM MAKING SURE THAT THIS GETS POSTED ouo;;;

Um. Are you guys enjoying this? I know D.Gray-Man isn’t that big of a fandom anymore but it’s one that is near and dear to my heart so. Yeah :D

1/2

Lenalee’s voice faded amongst the towering boxes around her, Lavi, and Allen as she explained the previous segment of the story to Lavi. He had claimed he was lost and practically begged her to explain everything to him. It was hard to resist the face of a child.

Now, the three of them were sprawled across the floor, heads together, staring at the expanse of faux stars high above their heads. Lavi pointed out the inaccuracy of the display. Allen made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. There was a rustle near the entrance of the labs that drew the trio’s attention. Reever poked his head around the corner, staring in dismay at the amount of boxes left to move. He then looked down at the Exorcists on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice rough and deep with exhaustion.

Lavi kicked his legs up and rocked into a sitting position. “Tellin’ stories. Sit and take a load off, Reever!”

Lenalee waved her hands at the scientist as he padded to one of the few chairs left in the whole lab. “Allen’s telling us a story about his time with General Cross.”

“Oh? And which one is that?” Reever asked. He was very obviously amused.

“When we found a mermaid,” Allen explained. From the sounds of it, he was getting tired of repeating himself. He frowned, however, when a pained look – not a shocked one – crossed Reever’s face. The man looked down at the shattered remains of the statue on the floor.

“That story, huh?”

“Do you know it already?” Allen asked. He rolled onto his stomach.

Reever turned the chair and sank into it backwards. “Not the whole thing. Just that,” he trailed off and shook his head. “Just the ending. It was almost the whole time you were with him, wasn’t it? Four years or so?”

Allen hummed in the affirmative, nodding his head. “Um, they were still with him in India but…” The sentence hung unfinished in the air. Reever released a slow sigh. Lavi and Lenalee looked between the two. They were lost. Reever grinned.

“Well, I haven’t heard the fun bits,” Reever declared. He edged the chair closer to the trio. Once he reached them, he rested his arms and head on the back rest. “So, if you’re tellin’ the story, don’t let me interrupt.” Lavi fell back with a small puff of air.

Allen rolled back onto his back and stared at a glittering blue gem in the ceiling. “We were in that village for a week. Every sunset, we’d look out and see the schooner still anchored in the water. At dawn, we would look, and still, it was there. It started to eat away at Master’s patience. It had long devoured yours.

You shakily paced on bare feet across the damp wooden planks of the shack, the skirts of a peasant’s dress swishing around your ankles. It was awkward on your body, as awkward as the worn pants and cotton shirt you had worn the day before, but after a lifetime of never wearing anything, you would never find comfort in the clothing of humans. You had said so yourself the first morning in a shirt. I watched you pace. Your body trembled from the new movement.

“Mr. Marian.” Your voice broke the silence so suddenly, I jumped. You turned to Master with a frustrated look, the ragged ends of your hair swishing around your shoulders. Two days before, you had finally caved and asked me to cut it for you. The brittle strands gave easily to a dull knife.

Master looked up at you at the sound of his name. He tapped the end of his last cigarette, sending ashes scattering to the floor.

“You got us here,” you said. You crossed the shack in two steps and crumbled to your knees in front of his boots. The motion looked painful. “How do we get out?” you asked.

“So, you’re speaking to me like an equal now?” he asked, very bored and very tired. His complaints of sleeping on the floor had not gone unnoticed by you or myself. You refrained from rebutting, proving his point and bringing about a sardonic smirk. Master tilted his head back against the wall behind him. “If I remember right, it’s a new moon tonight,” he said around a yawn.

I perked up at the thought. “Complete darkness,” I said.

Master looked over. The deep bags under his eyes only added to the menace of his stare. “Exactly.” I froze. He was too tired for an insult. He truly was at the end of his rope.

You reached forward and took the last cigarette from his fingers. He watched you lift it to your nose, give it a sniff, and drive it into the floor next to you. The emotion drained from Master’s face. It was as if his soul completely left his body. You reached forward to pat his exposed cheek and bring color to it. He snatched your wrist from the air and gave you a hard stare. It would have been a familiar scene, if not for the menace: a beautifully dressed patron on their knees between Master’s legs as they stared in silence. He audibly ground his teeth.

“Villages like these are never far from larger cities,” he stated. He watched your stare grow wide. “More people.”

“Further inland,” I added. “Far away from the fishermen.”

“So how do we do it?” you asked. Your voice shook: you were beyond excited, though you would never admit it.

Master’s lips tilted up in a smirk. He placed a swift kiss against your open palm and stood. You brought your hand down on his boot in frustration at the action. “We wait until the sun sets completely,” he said. He patted the pockets of his coat and ground his teeth again. No more cigarettes. “And then we run,” he finished.”

Reever was laughing into his elbow, eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners. “They hated his guts!” he wheezed out. Allen shot the scientist a withering look, which only made the man laugh harder. “Oh man, they absolutely despised him!”

“Why is that funny?” Lenalee asked. Allen made a variety of rude sounds as he scrambled to sit up.

“If you say anything, Reever, you’ll ruin the story completely!” he shouted. Reever’s laughs disappeared into silent, breathless cackles. Lavi’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. His mind scrambled to piece things together. His thoughts were scattered when Reever’s laughs regained sound and filled the lab.

Allen groaned and buried his cheek against his arm. “Should I just continue the story?” Lenalee pushed herself across the floor until she was looking up at Allen, nodding vigorously. Lavi collapsed into a frustrated pile next to her. They all struggled to ignore Reever.

“We reached the next town in the early morning. We had chosen to leave behind most of the clothing we had scavenged from the village, save for a shirt, a set of pants, and the dress you were already wearing. They were wrapped haphazardly in a makeshift bag made of a sheet I had found with the clothes. You were heavily limping, but not complaining. Master looked you over as we broke out of a quiet street and into the already bustling main avenue.

“We can find an inn,” he said softly. You looked up when he spoke, smothering a yawn behind your hand. “Get you cleaned up. Decide what we do from there.”

“We can’t take them back to the village!” I shouted. Master glared at me. My voice had been too loud. I ducked my head and tightened my grip on the luggage I carried. “The fishermen might still be waiting in that harbor, if they didn’t see us leave,” I finished quietly. A merchant eyed you as we passed his stall.

“My dear, a moment, please!” he called after you. “You look like you could use another dress. Mayhap, your husband would oblige?” You stopped as he spoke to you, at a loss for words, but didn’t correct what he said. He mistook you for a human woman by your dress. It was smarter not to say otherwise.

Master had also stopped at the word ‘husband’. A coy smile turned up his lips. One would mistake it for kindness when, in reality, it was smug. He slipped a hand low across your back as he stepped next to you. His gloved fingers were already twirling a gold button between them: one of his own, stolen from a jacket in his suitcase that was already almost bare of them. He held it up for the merchant to see before he tossed it towards the man. Master then patted your back and leaned towards your ear. “Pick a few things you won’t mind wearing. They’re not extravagant, but they’ll hold up to travel,” he murmured.

You stepped up to the stand when Master applied pressure to your back. The merchant happily chatted with you, showing you a variety of dresses in heavy fabrics and dark colors. You opted for a blue one, a green one, and a pair of dark brown pants that were buried between linen shirts. You grabbed one of those as well. The merchant backed up into his shop and disappeared within the shadows of the doorway. Cross took the time to step between you and the stand. You didn’t miss his free fingers snatch another shirt and pant from the pile before he ushered you and me away. He shoved those and the clothes you had grabbed towards me to prevent anyone from being suspicious. We continued walking.

It didn’t take us long to find an Inn. Actually, the town was full of them. It had to be, given the size; it had taken us until nightfall to reach the inner parts of the town when we had reached its outskirts in the early morning. Master jumped up the steps and swept inside with the quiet command for you and me to stay outside. You played with the strands of your hair. Your fingers seemed longer than a normal human’s hands, with a slight sheen where the sides of your fingers touched each other. I stared at them. You noticed and smiled and held them out to me. I set everything down next to my feet and took them.

There were ridges where the sheens were, thin ones that traveled the valley of your fingers and traveled from side to side. The only places that didn’t have ridges were the tips of your fingers. “What are these?” I asked. You wiggled your fingers, the pads touching my nose. I scrunched my face.

“Fins,” you answered, “I suppose a better word for it would be webbing.” I stared at your hands as you splayed your fingers. I poked the space between them hesitantly. There was nothing there. “They are there when I’m wet,” you commented.

I wasn’t able to say anything more. Master stepped out, waving a key in the air. He motioned around the building. You helped me gather the suitcases and followed after him. It was quiet as we herded into the room. There were two beds, a small table, and a door leading to a bathroom. I had half a mind to ask how much this room would cost but kept quiet. Master heaved a sigh. “You should wash up,” he said to you. He looked down at your bare feet; they were dry and cracked. I couldn’t imagine how much they hurt when we were still in the village. I couldn’t beginning to imagine how much they hurt now. You pushed open the door and stared at the tub inside in awe.

Master turned to me and held the key out. “The two of you stay here,” he said quietly. He glanced back at your back in the bathroom. You had already shed the dress, opting for the comfort of nudity than the rules of being proper. His stare lingered longer than necessary. I grabbed the key. He yanked me close and knelt down. “Do not leave this room,” he whispered.

“Where are you going?” I asked. He stood to his full height and shed his outer coat. Beneath was another coat, this one thinner and black, with the dusty sleeves of the shirt underneath exposed. A rosary hung from his neck. I pressed my lips together to keep from making a comment.

“To find out where we are,” he answered. He tossed his hat on the table as well. “And get a drink,” he added. The annoyances of the past few weeks had caught up with him. He left the room quickly and shut the door too harshly. You looked back into the room.

“Allen?” you called. I looked over, a blush heating my cheeks. If you were going to choose nudity behind closed doors than I had to get used to it. I set everything down next to one bed. “How does this work?” You crouched next to the tub and stared over the lip into the bowl.

“Suppose you don’t have these in the ocean, huh?” I asked. I placed the stopper and turned on the tap. You jumped at the sudden rush of water.

“No,” you answered. “There’s many things I’ve seen that we don’t have.”

I watched you take in the sight of the water. “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

You looked up. In the safety and warmth of the room, you were finally able to relax. The circles under your bloodshot eyes deepened as you teared up. Your shoulders slumped. You gripped the side of the tub as it filled. “Will I ever be able to go home?” you asked.

I slid a hand into the water to test the temperature. I didn’t know how to answer because I didn’t know; there were too many things that had happened, not to mention the whole reason I was traveling with Master in the first place. He insisted that we couldn’t stay in one place too long. We’d been on the coast far longer than necessary. Instead, I looked up and smiled. “Can you tell me about home?”

You met my gaze. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You nodded.”

“That was Denmark, right?” Allen glanced up at Reever. The scientist was staring blankly ahead at the towers of boxes with an unlit cigarette between his lips. “I remember that letter,” he said, “From Cross. It was postmarked Denmark, to Komui. He was complaining about finding a mermaid. Komui had me read it to make sure it was really Cross and to see if he’d lost it or something.” Reever chuckled at the memory.

“I didn’t know he sent a letter,” Allen said.

Lavi rolled over onto his stomach. “I’ve seen it.”

“How the hell have you seen it?” Reever grunted.

Lavi smirked and shrugged, an indicator that he wasn’t going to say. “But it matches up with all those papers he wrote while he was a scientist here. It was legit.”

Allen frowned. “I didn’t know he’d sent a letter,” he repeated. Lenalee rubbed his back.

[ciarblog-blog]

Staying safe during your independence day celebration

According to Property Casualty 360 every year U.S. fire departments respond to nearly 10,000 home fires involving grills, hibachis or barbecues, according to the National Fire Protection Association. That’s a staggering number — not least because I didn’t know that hibachis still existed. On a serious note, these statistics should not be taken lightly as these fires result in an average of 10 civilian deaths each year, 160 reported injuries, and more than $13 million in direct property damage.

Of the nearly 10,000 fires each year, 4,100 are structure fires and 5,500 are outside property / unclassified damage. Almost all of the $13 million in losses each year are from the structure fires. That’s an average of $31,000 and change per structure damaged — these aren’t little fires.

1. Clean the grill

So how can you avoid becoming one of these grim statistics? As with most risk management, it’s easier than you think. The same NFPA report previously mentioned tells us that 22% of the structure fires were the result of a grill that hadn’t been cleaned. If you are anything like me, taking time to clean the grill before each use seems like a messy and unpleasant chore that seems to yield minimal benefit — after all, the chicken will taste the same whether I tidy up or not, right? But, that 22% number is eye-catching.

Cleaning the grill before lighting it up isn’t about making the chicken (or steaks, ribs or burgers) taste better; it’s about protecting myself, my family and my home. If I have a grill fire that burns my house and injures my family, no one will care how the chicken tasted. Get yourself some disposable gloves, a good wire bristle brush and a scraper and spend 10 minutes cleaning up from last time before lighting up again. Your local fire department would much rather be grilling hot dogs on its own barbeque than rushing to your house to put the fire out.

2. Stay away from flammable material

A startling 17% of grill-based home fires start because the grill was set up too close to flammable material. That’s 1 in 6 fires. Give your grill lots of space, keep it away from walls, low overhangs (11% of these fires start when an outside wall catches fire, the other 6% involve some type of structural element wood framing), fences, dry grass, or anything else that is combustible. Grilling is all about harnessing a small friendly fire and getting it to work for you. Don’t give it a chance to become a hostile fire.

3. Watch the fire

While we’re on the subject — don’t turn your back on a fire. Fire isn’t inherently evil, but it is a powerful, destructive force when left to its own devices. One in 6 backyard grilling fires stem from inattention. Pour a glass of iced tea and pull up a lawn chair — and keep an eye on that fire for the duration. Having a water hose close at hand (connected to a hose bib well away from the grill so that turning the water on doesn’t require you to brave the inferno) is just good risk management also!

4. Know the difference between gas and charcoal grills

This isn’t the time or the place to start the debate about the superiority of one type of grill over another, but we do need to acknowledge that there are differences between gas grills and charcoal grills. For one thing, gas grills have a tank full of additional fuel hooked up to them, while charcoal bags are usually stored a little bit farther away.

The NFPA reports that from 2011–2015, 82% of home fires caused by outdoor grilling involved gas grills. Twelve percent of gas grill fires reported in that interval were the result of a leak or break in the gas line, regulator or tank of gas grills. —Every bit as important as cleaning your grill regularly is proactive maintenance! Inspect your gas lines and valve frequently. The sniff test is handy — commercially available propane gas is infused with a compound called mercaptan, an organosulfur compound found naturally in the blood and brain of humans, which makes the otherwise odorless propane gas smell of rotten eggs. If you smell anything unpleasant near your propane tank, think twice about lighting that match.

A spray bottle of soapy water can help to spot tiny leaks — douse the suspect area with several sprays of soapy water and look for bubbles forming after the spray settles. The soap increases the surface tension of the water, making the bubbles formed by escaping propane gas persist for a few seconds and sometimes even “stack” on each other so that they are easy to spot.

5. Keep children away from the grill

One last area of risk management that I cannot stress enough: Keep small children well away from the grill! The NFPA reports that children under five account for 1,600 or 35% of contact-type burns reported every year. These burns result from accidentally touching (bumping into, falling on or grabbing) the hot grill or hot coals. Please keep your children at a safe distance, and dispose of spent charcoal only after it is thoroughly cold (charcoal can smolder for days under a layer of seemingly cold ashes). In 2015 the Charlotte Observer reported that three house fires in Charlotte, N.C. were the result of smoldering charcoal being dumped into trash cans. Three homes in a single grilling season, in a town of less than a million people — that’s far too many.

Risk management recap

As we head into what looks like another fabulous summer grilling season, please take a few minutes to engage in some basic grilling risk management:

Clean your grill regularly.

Move your grill well away from combustible materials and surfaces before igniting.

Stay close to your grill while it is burning.

If you have a gas grill, inspect the components regularly.

Keep small children out of harm’s way.

With just a little attention to detail, we can all enjoy a summer full of delicious grilled food and keep our homes and families safe at the same time.

We here at Capital Insurance Agency of Raleigh, LLC hope you have a safe holiday.  Free auto insurance and commercial insurance quotes available for you.

Thank you, Michael D. Brown, vice president and property department manager at Golden Bear Insurance Company. He can be reached at michaelbrown93442@gmail.com.  for your great article.

The opinions expressed here are the writer’s own.