#and also i realized how incredibly sensitive i am to noise this year but like specific people noise

[youjustwaitsunshine]

someone is doing burnouts on the street outside

[copperbadge]

sam, as someone who professionally stalks rich people for fun and profit and therefore have long term observational data on them as a class, how likely is it that the mess that is twitter is musk trying to get out of the loans that are pulling tesla down via bankruptcy, and relatedly, considering that he's obviously doing all the value tanking on his own either through incompetence or malice, how likely is it that it'd end up a bankruptcy fraud case?

The problem is that by the time people get to where Elon Musk is now, most nonprofits have "disqualified" them. It's not that we won't take meetings with them or take their money, but we won't go out of our way to solicit it unless we are willing to take that PR hit. So I haven't researched many people who are malignant supervillains in quite the public way Elon Musk is. War criminals, yes; incredibly unethical finance guys, tons; active public fuckups like Elon Musk? Not as much. So I'm actually less well-educated in this kind of situation than one might think.

I have researched numerous finance guys who were convicted of financial misconduct. They fight it every step up to a point, they do everything possible to seem conventional and innocent...and they take their medicine quietly when it becomes obvious they're going to have to, so that they don't create a three-ring circus and endanger future investments by making too much noise. They get banned for three or five or eight years, and then they either get a shell to do their work for them or they take a three year vacation and then come back and quietly start up again.

As opposed to Elon Musk, who’s just like “I’m not afraid of the FTC. Come at me bro” and then shrieks like a child when they do.  

It's actually really difficult to tell what Musk is doing deliberately and what is just overwhelming incompetence. Like, how the fuck do you get where Twitter is this morning without doing it deliberately? But there’s no overestimating human stupidity, its well is bottomless. 

I don't subscribe to the Four Dimensional Chess theory that this was planned from the beginning. Musk tried too hard to squirm out of the deal, and he's much, much too sensitive about the way people have seen his actions, for me to think this is part of some master plan. He's also kind of a dumbass. But I'm not sure he's the extreme dumbass he's coming across as, either. It’s hard to know. The second he was forced to buy Twitter, I suspect either he realized, or someone close to him casually said, "You know, you can buy an asset, load it with debt, and dump it, especially if society values it highly enough to want it back from you." So what he's doing now might be deliberate even if it didn’t start out that way. 

On the other hand, I have my doubts, because every time he fucks Twitter up he does seem to be demanding someone else fix it. Tanking the value of an asset deliberately generally goes smoother than this to be honest. And I don't credit him as being canny enough to seem this random in order to fool the authorities that he's not committing fraud. So I lean, slightly, towards “Oh he’s just a real dumbass who’s not used to things not going his way.” but I can’t say with confidence that this is the case. 

I am also not following this as closely and breathlessly as some, so what I know of the situation is generally osmoted from daily headline reading and whatever crosses my dash on tumblr. I'm not buried in the specifics, so this is coming from a very distant view of what's happening. If he does declare bankruptcy for Twitter, I think there will be a fraud case regardless, because it's such a huge asset and he took it down so fast -- and he himself was so mired in debt -- that there has to be. You can’t just accept it. But I don't think he'll get convicted, if push comes to shove. I think probably there is a large bailout somewhere in his future, because that's just how life seems to roll these days.

I suppose we'll see. Sorry, this is a very ambiguous answer, but I'm working on like 3/4 of the knowledge I'd have if I was asked to do this for work, and I'd do more research but I'm real tired of seeing his incredibly punchable face.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

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

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are��talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Are You?

A/N: All I have to say is I'm really proud of this fic, so much freaking fun to write. I am hopelessly devoted to Kirishima. Please let me know what you think! For the tags, I just tagged those that interacted with the post I made about starting this series, if you wanted added or removed just let me know!

Summary: A movie night gets a little out of hand, next thing you know you're losing your virginity to Kirishima.

Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima x FemReader (you) both aged up 18+

Warnings: First time, virginity loss, virgin reader, experienced Kirishima, LOTS of consent, oral (female receiving) size kink, daddy kink, rough sex, spanking, choking, belly buldge, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, degredation, dumbification if you squint, very mushy aftercare in the shower, I think that's all of them lmao.

Word Count: 9,304

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The movie you had started is long forgotten, the sounds fading into white noise as your eyelids drift shut. Your body feels like lead, and your brain is quickly turning off. You feel like you could melt into the bed and stay there for several days. You snuggle into Kirishima a little more, barely processing the contented hum he lets out when you do.

"You fallin' asleep sweetheart?" He mumbles against the top of your head, finishing his sentence with a gentle kiss.

"Nah, just resting my eyes." You lie, very aware of how quickly sleep is overtaking your exhausted body.

"Want me to drive you home?" He asks, one hand coming up so he can run his fingers through your hair.

You just shake your head weakly, not ready to remove yourself from his warmth. You really just want to stay, but you two haven't really crossed that line yet. You've been dating for a few months now, but you move painfully slow. You blame it on your lack of experience over all. Being a virgin in your first relationship has definitely come with a lot of caution and slow progress.

Kirishima has been absolutely incredible though, always letting you set the pace, always asking questions, and offering reassurance when needed. You've both definitely had some close calls though, with how much time you spend together and how irresistible he is, it's been hard to keep your hands off of him. You've had your fair share of handsy makeout sessions, but that's about it.

Today does feel a little different though, like there's been some kind of shift. Maybe it's the right time to take that next step, Kirishima has definitely proven himself to be worthy of your trust. You're confident that he would stop when needed, go as slow as you asked him to, and be there for you after.

As your mind races you wrap your arms around the wall of muscle beside you, cherishing the security his large body gives you. You sigh and shift your head so your chin is resting on his chest, allowing you to glance up at him. As always, you're floored by his beauty. His scarlet eyes meet yours as his lips twitch up into a fond smirk. He's definitely the rugged kind of handsome, small white scars litter his face from his few years of hero work.

The most noticeable scar is the one on his upper lip, about two inches in length as it travels up away from his pretty mouth. Your hand absentmindedly reaches up so you can run your thumb over it while you cup his face. He melts into your touch, turning to place a kiss on your palm. Your entire body lights up when he does, he's always giving you sweet little kisses, and you love it more than life itself.

"Whatcha lookin' at my busted face for?" He teases.

You smile coyly as you slide your leg around his hip, slowly bringing yourself up so you can straddle him. You slide your other hand up to hold his face as well, leaning down to press a kiss into his forehead.

"It's a beautiful face." You whisper as you sit back up so you can look down at him again.

God, the sight of him. Wild crimson hair falling across the pillow, stunning porcelain skin offering a marvelous contrast. Your hands slide down his neck, to his collar bones, then down his clothed torso. You mentally curse the black t-shirt that's currently hiding his skin from you, even though he looks incredible in it.

"What are you thinking about hon?" He asks quietly.

Your eyes flash up to his and he gives you a knowing look.

Does he feel it too? You've had plenty of long talks about it, he's always been open about how much he wants to make sure it's a safe experience. He offers you nothing but stability and assurance. The nerve wracking part is that he's so experienced. You're not jealous that he's been with people before you, just worried that you won't live up to them. Kiri has always been very open about his past relationships, just like you have with yours. It's just a matter of finding the confidence to take the next step.

"Oh, you're thinking too much." He says quietly, grabbing your hands to pull them apart.

You hadn't even realized you'd begun to pick at your thumb, but of course he's paying attention.

"Can I stay?" You blurt out, sounding a little too panicked.

"You can always stay." He says as he wraps his arms around your waist, then brings his mouth to press innocent kisses into your neck.

"Baby?" You say, hands carding through his hair.

He only hums, lips still working against your sensitive skin.

"Can we try?" You ask quietly.

Your eyes lock, tension builds, and hands tighten as you both silently understand your heavy implications.

"Are you sure?" He asks with all the sincerity he has.

"I love you, Kiri, I trust you." You breathe out, letting your head fall to rest your forehead against his own.

"If you need me to stop at any point you tell me, understand?" He says with a tone you can't quite decipher. It could be called firm, but that's not exactly right… convicted, he sounds convicted.

"Of course, Red." His body responds to his hero name in the most beautiful way. Muscles tense as he takes a deep breath in, steady arms pull your body towards his. Very suddenly, but some also not soon enough, your lips are on his. Brilliant, rose colored warmth spreads through your veins as he kisses the breath out of your lungs.

"Can I lay you on your back?" He asks against your lips.

"Please." You sigh.

In one swift movement, he scoops you into his arms and spins you around so he can lay you gently on the mattress. One hand stays on your waist, while the other comes up to hold your face.

"I love you, you know that right?" He asks, when you look into his eyes your heart aches when you see all the begging in them.

"Kiri, I've never been more sure of anything." You assure him.

He gives you his thousand watt smile and you can't help but return it. This man is something else. He's the kind that lights up a room, that gives when he's empty, and loves relentlessly. Most of all, he's completely, inexplicably yours.

Your head spins when he dips his head down to kiss your collar bones.

"I'm gonna get you real worked up, ok?" He says then presses one long kiss into your shoulder.

Excitement blasts through your veins. What a beautiful promise he's just made, and you can't wait for him to live up to his word.

"I need you to tell me what feels good." He whispers against your skin as his hands come up so push your tank top up your torso.

"Ok." You reply, cursing yourself for how basic the response is. He's probably used to people who can dirty talk like no tomorrow, and all you can manage are weak one word responses.

"You're thinkin' too much honey." He says with a deep chuckle, his hands halt once he has the fabric bunched at your ribs.

"Talk to me." He says.

"I'm just nervous. Insecurities and all that, worried I won't live up to other people. You know, stupid virgin thoughts." You stumble through the sentence, barely articulating the nerves buzzing around in your abdomen.

"Listen to me." Kiri says with his firm, guiding tone.

"It's just you now. Not them, never will be them again." He brings one of your hands up so he can kiss your knuckles.

"You're my girl, that's all that's on my mind."

The reassurance is short and sweet, but Kiri is always like that with his words. He says it like it is, but there's always immeasurable heart behind what he says, so it's enough to still your nerves.

"Can I make you feel good now?" He asks, face slightly mischievous.

"I think you know the answer." You can't help but giggle when his fingers meet your ribs again to finish taking off your tank top.

Soon he's got you panting and grasping at the sheets. Your clothes are long gone, and he is definitely staying true to his promise to get you worked up. Rough hands are on your waist, while his hot, wet mouth trails across the tops of your breasts. The more time he spends kissing your body, the easier it is to let the nerves die out. Every ounce of uncertainty vanishes the second his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples.

"Oh, baby." You sigh, back arching slightly.

"Like that?" He asks, breaking only briefly. Soon his mouth is back on you, tongue drawing lazy circles around your sensitive buds.

"Yeah…" You find yourself wishing you could respond better again, but your mind is mush.

"How bout this?" He asks as he slides his other hand up to pinch your other nipple.

You rub your thighs together to try and alleviate some of the pressure building in your core. You have to be embarrassingly soaked at this point. After just a few seconds of nipple play, you're already throbbing and it's maddening.

"Kiri." You groan, the friction of his fingers contrasting wonderfully with the smooth movements of his tongue.

You want to feel him everywhere, you want to be overwhelmed by him. The way his tongue is working, you can only imagine him using it somewhere else.

"K-kiri?" You say with a shuddering breath.

"Yeah angel?" He answers, his hand still playing with you a little.

"Lower, please?" Your voice is so shy and timid, and you feel the hot blush spread across your cheeks.

"You're so fuckin' cute." He mumbles before planting an open mouthed kiss between your breasts.

With the same slow, teasing pace, he kisses down your stomach. He stops right under your belly button and glances up at you through his lashes. He's fucking stunning from this angle, but you've found that he really doesn't have a bad angle.

"I'm gonna try something, ok? Tell me how it makes you feel." He says calmly.

"Aye Aye Captain." You say, earning a sweet little chuckle from Kiri.

Any motivation you have to joke is thrown out the window when he nips your sensitive skin. The brief pain sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and your walls clench immediately.

"How was that?" He asks, hands running along your hips as he settles between your spread legs.

"More please." Is all you can squeak out.

Kirishima just smiles and kisses where he's just nipped.

"In a little bit baby."

You become suddenly aware of how exposed you are and you're plagued with thoughts of insecurity. As if he can read your mind, Kiri places a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Can I please taste you, your pussy is so fuckin pretty." He sighs against your skin.

Oh yeah, you have to be absolutely dripping. His words have you clenching around nothing, you're so worked up you're worried you might finish as soon as he makes contact with your core.

"Fuck- please Kiri- use your mouth on me." You moan, shocked by your own boldness.

"Oh good girl, keep talkin' to me." He sighs.

Without any further warning his mouth is just all over you. No gentle kisses around your clit like you expected, not teasing fingers on your lips. Just as sudden, blinding pleasure rocketing through your walls as his skilled tongue laps at your sensitive, swollen clit.

"Kiri! Shit!" You cry as your hands find a place in his hair, desperate to hold onto something that can keep you grounded.

"Baby, I'm too sensitive, I'm not gonna- oh fuuuuck." You try to warn him, but the words never stood a chance at leaving your mouth. In the middle of your sentence, he presses one thick finger into your slick hole, and that spells the end for you. With how big Kiri is, his finger might as well be the size of an average man's dick, and it feels incredible. You can't hold it in, and you don't fucking want to. Between the constant, white hot pleasure he's giving your clit, and the sudden intrusion of his finger, your inexperienced body never stood a chance.

"Fuck that was gorgeous." He huffs against your cunt.

Your walls flutter their way through your orgasm, warmth oozing into all of your appendages as Kirishima slows his tongue down enough for you to ride out all of the aftershocks.

You gather enough strength to look down at him, and your blissed out brain wants to shred the shirt he's wearing. Your hands reach down desperately to grab the collar of his shirt in an attempt to pull it off.

"Where'd my shy girl go?" He teases before helping you get rid of his bothersome clothes.

"She left when you made her cum in under a minute." You share a soft laugh with each other, but anything light-hearted disappears when you look down at his briefs and see the outline of his dick.

Kirishima isn't a small man, standing up he's roughly seven feet. You're a relatively average sized woman, but you still feel like a dwarf next to him. Judging by the outline in his underwear, he's definitely proportionate, and the terrifying realization that he's probably not even all the way hard yet makes your stomach drop.

"You want that?" He asks coyly, red eyebrows shooting up as he grins down at you.

"It- it's gonna hurt, isn't it?" You stutter, hands balling up the bedding underneath you.

"It's gonna sting just a little bit, but I told you I'll get you worked up, and it'll only last a second princess." He kisses your nose for reassurance, putting your bubbling chest at ease for a moment.

"Can I- um- can I touch you? Please?" Again, you want to kick yourself for sounding so bashful, but Kiri seems to be incredibly fond of it.

"Of course you can, wherever you want to." He whispers, he leans down to brace on his elbows, his breathtaking body closing the remaining distance between you two. With him looming above you like this, you feel absolutely tiny, like if he put his weight on you it might crush you. Something tells you tomorrow is probably going to consist of a lot of bed rest.

You cautiously slide your hands over his carved abs, adoring the way his muscles tense under your feathery touches. Your eyes stay locked on his and your heart blooms with exhilaration. Your hands travel down his body until your fingertips brush the waistband of his briefs. Kiri takes in a sharp breath when you dip your fingers under the material. You steal a glance down, and you can't help but let your jaw drop.

He's gotta be the size of your forearm, at least. Shit, how the hell are you gonna fucking take that? You remind yourself that Kiri promised it would only hurt for a second, that he would take care of you. You trust him, completely.

He helps you slide his briefs off, and when he's finally free it makes you see stars. His full length falls against your stomach, and he feels so damn heavy. His base is resting against your mound, and his head meets your belly button. His skin is nothing short of beautiful, soft pink tip with a pale shaft littered with veins.

"Holy shit." You pant, your hand looks pathetic when you go to wrap it around his swollen tip.

"It might sting more than a little." You whisper.

"I'll make it feel good, I promise." He says with all the confidence in the world.

He's so unbelievably hard and your hand can't reach all the way around him. There's about an inch and a half between your middle finger and thumb where they should meet. You never thought you'd be so intimidated by a simple body part, but then again, this is Red Riot you're dealing with.

Before you can stroke him, Kiri is grabbing your wrist as he shifts to lean on his side next to you.

"Next time angel, tonight's about you." He says before kissing the skin behind your ear.

His hand lets go of your wrist so he can skate his fingertips down your stomach. As soon as he brushes your clit your body jumps, still so sensitive from the sudden orgasm he's just given you. You take in deep breaths as your legs shift anxiously while he dips his fingers down so he can run them up your soaked lips.

"You're so wet for me." He sighs against your neck.

"Kiri- please- make me feel good again." You whimper, desperate for his touch.

"Gonna stretch you out a little bit, ok? Gotta get you ready to take me." He mumbles as he presses his middle finger into your quivering hole again.

There's no way you can respond, all ability to speak is stolen from you when he starts to pump his massive finger in and out of you.

There's no stretch with just one finger, it's no bigger than the toy you usually use on yourself, the stretch comes when he adds his index finger to the mix. It doesn't sting, but there's definitely some pressure. You screw your eyes shut and reach for his forewarn as he picks up speed, needing something to hold onto as the pleasure builds in your lower stomach again.

Then, the spectacular feeling of his thumb pressing against your clit makes you cry out. You're shocked by the broken moan that rips out of your throat, and the way your hips roll against his hand while he starts rubbing urgent circles against your sweet spot.

"That's it baby, tell me about it." He pants against your shoulder, it almost sounds like he's cheering you on, voice filled with something joyful that makes your heart race impossibly faster.

"Kiri- that feels so fucking good- shit."

Your cunt starts to pulse around him like it did a few minutes ago, your body is already right on the edge again by his capable fingers.

"D- da- Kiri." You moan, you almost fucking slip. You want nothing more than to call him 'daddy', that's what he is to you right now. You don't know how he'll respond to it, so you swallow the name and cry out against his broad chest.

He seems to have caught you though, both his thumb and his fingers pick up their speed slightly.

"Say it, please baby, say it- fuck." He begs against your head, offering you the room to call him whatever you want to.

Your hand claws at his arm, the other reaches up to hold onto his sweaty neck.

"Daddy, please make me cum again, your fingers feel so good." Your voice increases in pitch the more you beg, he sets a delicious rhythm then, reacting immediately to your pleas.

"You wanna be a good girl for me?" He asks as he shifts so his free hand can cradle your face.

You nod weakly as your abs starts to seize up and your core starts to clamp down on his pistoning fingers.

"Look at me." He huffs, your eyes flutter open to meet his.

Kirishima has a habit of knocking the wind out of you with his beauty, but he damn near kills you this time. He's positively enchanting with the blush on his cheeks, brows furrowed as he focuses on bringing you to your second orgasm.

"Cum for me one more time angel, then I'm gonna fill you up, gonna fuck your pretty little cunt." His voice is dripping with desire, and his vulgar words are all it takes to send you right into another trembling orgasm. Your body twitches and jerks as your core squeezes his fingers. He stops thrusting them into you and focuses all his energy on rubbing your clit with his thumb, making everything so much more intense.

You moan and shake against him as he whispers things like "good girl, just like that" against your ear while you come back down.

All you want is more, so much more. There's no such thing as nerves now. You have tunnel vision for Kiri and the pleasure he's giving you. Even after two orgasms, all you want is more, more, more.

"Daddy please- fuck my little cunt- fill me up like you promised." You grab at him wherever you can, you almost second guess your dirty talk, but Kiri eats that shit up.

"You sound so pretty begging for me princess. You want me to fuck you, huh? Want Daddy to make you cry?" Everything about his demeanor has a sense of urgency to it. Not like he's rushing, but like he's handling something vitally important.

You just nod and whimper, it's all you're capable of after being rocked by two incredible orgasms. He's moving so he can settle between your legs again, and his weighty length hits your stomach again.

"Listen to me sweetheart." He says, voice shaking slightly at the end.

"I'm gonna let you put it in ok? I want you to tell me when to move and when to stop, we can even stop here if you need to." He moves his hands to hold your face, thumbs brushing your cheek bones affectionately.

"I don't want you to stop, I want more Kiri, please." You say, completely confident in your decision to keep going.

"Then it's all you babygirl." He smiles down at you, all warmth and adoration.

You swallow thickly and reach down to grab his pink head, nearly drooling when you see the ridiculous amount of precum leaking out of his tip.

You tentatively spread it around with your thumb, the appendage barely stretches across the width of his massive cock. Kiri's breath speeds up above you as you move your hand around his head so you can push him down between your legs. Now, with a clear view of him, he's definitely the size of your forearm. Nerves are replaced by excitement, knowing that once he's inside you and your body adjusts to him, it'll feel absolutely amazing.

Kirishima shifts above you so he can brace on his hands as he placed them on either side of your face. All his intricate muscles shift under his pale skin, he's so broad and handsome, it makes your head spin.

With very little skill, you run his tip along you dripping lips, and both of you jolt as the erotic contact.

"That feels good baby, nice and slow." His words egg you on, a fuzzy feeling buzzes around in your chest when you hear him praise you, it's something else you just want more of.

His head teases over your silky hole as you slide him further down, his fingers definitely got you worked up, but it's still gonna be one hell of a tight fit.

"Can you- um- could you move your hips forward a little?" You ask with a shaking voice, your body is sparking with the anticipation of having him fill you, and you know he won't be able to slide in unless he helps by pushing.

"Want me to help you put it in?" He asks, his voice sounds so light and breathy.

"Please?" You blink up at him.

"Just keep talkin' to me, yeah?" He pants out.

"Ye- Oh fuck Daddy!" What's meant to be a quiet answer, turns into an erotic cry. Your body shivers as the name slips from your lips and your hands fly to his sides. He didn't give you a single second to respond before pressing himself into you, and it definitely hurts more than a little. The sting of the stretch is almost enough to make you tap out, but then you feel his thumb dragging against your clit again. It gives you just enough pleasurable relief to catch your breath.

"Sorry angel, had to get that part over with." He says before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Red, baby, please-" You choke on a moan when his thumb speeds up and he presses even more of his length into you.

"Please what?" He teases.

He can't even be a third of the way in, and you feel like you're completely stuffed. Your walls are being stretched to what feels like their absolute limit. Now you know why he gave you two orgasms beforehand, you need to be absolutely drenched in order to take him. Even then, it's almost impossible.

You glance down to see how much more you have to take. Fucking hell, it looks like it's just his head that's in.

"Tell me what you need, gorgeous." He applies slightly more pressure to your clit, but slows the pace down.

"More." You mewl, despite the pressure on your poor, tense insides.

"I'll tell you if it's too much, just keep going, please Daddy." Your hands paw at his back, desperate for him to move.

"Fuck baby- you're gonna be such a mess by the time I'm done with you."

You don't have any time at all to catch your breath or answer him. The sting is almost blazing as he pushes his hips towards yours. The dizzying sensation of his veiny cock dragging against your slick walls is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You whimper and sniffle beneath him while every muscle in your body tenses.

Then, you remember to breathe. You pull in a long, cooling breath, and on the release let your muscles relax. You look up at Kiri to see him looking down to where your bodies meet, mesmerized by the way he's splitting you open. He looks so wrapped up in his love for you, which only allows you to let go of more tension.

He keeps pressing into you, little by little pain is replaced by a warm ache, that warm ache then replaced by traces of something pleasurable. The hand pressing lazy circles into your clit slides up to grab your wrist. His bright eyes flash up to your as he brings your hand down to the bundle of nerves.

"Rub it for me, baby." He whispers before kissing your temple, his deep, rumbling voice makes your thighs squeeze his hips.

"O- ok." You fumble your words slightly.

"Is that how you answer Daddy?" He trails his open mouth down to the skin just above your collarbone, then teases the delicate skin with his pointed teeth.

Holy shit.

"Yes- yes sir?" You say, head spinning as you try to focus even a little bit. Your hand haplessly moves against your clit, wanting to listen but your motor skills are rendered useless by Kiri's dominance.

"Mhm, good girl." He praises before sinking his teeth into the spot he's been teasing.

Your entire body jumps, reacting exactly how he wants you to. All twitches and moans as he guides you through this.

"You're so fucking tight." He sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes in just a little more.

"Well yeah, you're the size of a house and I'm a virgin." You say with a weak laugh.

If you and Kiri can do anything, it's laugh.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows, and he can't help but giggle in that beautiful chirpy way he always does. You take his hands in your face and bring him down for a messy, laugh filled kiss. Blinding love fills your chest, hearing him laugh, feeling him breathe, being this close. It's all giving you such unparalleled joy.

He breaks the kiss to press his forehead into yours, then he really starts moving. What started as another round of giggles turns into a moan as he stretches you more and more. Your hands grab onto his neck as your eyes screw shut and your head is thrown back into the pillows. The pressure is positively mind numbing in the best way. All you can feel, smell, and taste is Kirishima as he rocks your world.

“Fucking hell, Kiri.” You gasp before rolling your hips up against him, finally feeling somewhat stretched out enough to work with him.

“Oh now you’re gettin’ it, keep movin’ with me sweetheart.” He nods his head while he talks, urgent and reassuring.

He continues his glacial pace, finally bottoming out with the help of your needy hips rising to meet his. God, you feel so fucking full. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, in your ribs, in your throat even. He’s not leaving a single inch of you untouched, and you’re absolutely hooked. You gather yourself enough to open your eyes again so you can look down at where you two meet, almost nervous to find that he really isn’t all the way in even though you feel like you’re going to break at any second.

“Holy. Shit.” As soon as you glance down, your eyes meet the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed. There’s a large bulge in your stomach, that is very obviously caused by one thing. Kiri smirks above you as he runs a hand up your side so he can gather your breast in his hand and tease your nipple with his thumb.

“Ain’t that somethin’?” He muses, sliding his hand back down to grab your wrist so he can move your hand over the stretched out part of your stomach.

“Feels good doesn’t it baby? I’m right there, that’s all me.” He presses your hand into the bulge, and the feeling of his head under your skin, combined with the pressure on your cervix and against your walls, nearly sends you into another orgasm. Your walls flutter around him as your bottom lip quivers.

That’s when you see the tension in his body, you hear the strain in his voice. He’s holding back, he’s going easy on you.

Your walls are relaxing, growing used to the obscene stretch. You take a deep breath and focus on releasing any other muscles that might make it harder for him to do what he needs to. As you settle, you bat your eyelashes at him. You offer another small roll of your hips before egging him on with your needy words.

“Daddy, please, you’re not gonna break me, fuck me like you want to.”

He gives you a very serious, almost stern look. It doesn’t help ease your need for him in the slightest, it only makes you want to push more.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise, please just fuck me."

His whole body shivers when you run your nails across his shoulders.

"Baby you gotta, if you don't tell me I'm gonna keep rockin', I don't want to hurt you."

You nod and swallow thickly, your body is absolutely buzzing with the anticipation.

"Words sweet thing, use your words. You'll tell me if it hurts, yeah?" He brings his hips back, and the drag of his cock along your walls is exquisite. He only moves maybe an inch, but the tease sends you reeling.

"Yes Daddy, I'll tell you." Your promise is said so sweetly, the way you trust him so completely sends him over the edge.

Just like that, your entire world shatters. He pulls back slowly, just to send his hips flying forward with one brutal thrust. It doesn't hurt, but there's so much fucking pressure once he's all the way pressed in. Your head is sent back into the pillows, thrashing wildly as you cry out and cling to his tense back. He doesn't stay there long though, only pausing briefly to savor the feeling of being fully wrapped in your hot, wet cunt.

"Open those legs for me princess." Kiri pants above you as he pulls back again.

You realize how much you've tensed up after his words pull you back down to earth. Your thighs had clamped around his hips like a vice. Slowly, you breathe in, then drop your legs open when you breathe out.

Then he sticks to his promise, and he starts rockin'. He sets a beautiful pace, it's not rushed or hard, not slow or teasing, it's just fucking perfect. He plunges into you over and over, deep and persistent. He hits every sweet spot you have, from your sensitive opening to your aching cervix. You mewl and twitch under him, your whole body being jolted every time he bottoms out.

"You're doin' so good baby, bein' such a good girl for Daddy." His voice breaks as he picks up speed, splitting you open completely.

It's turning your brain to total mush, all you can manage is a half ass "uh-huh" while your body moves like a ragdoll. You feel so full, and it feels so fucking good. It's all so foreign, so much, so overwhelming. Now that you're feeling it though, the feeling of being well and truly fucked, all you want is more.

The pressure just keeps building at your core, brilliant and warm. Sending electric shocks down the nerves in your legs, up your stomach, even through your fingertips. He's everywhere inside you, filling your mind and soul, you're drunk on Kirishima and more than willing to become addicted.

You blink open and grapple at his damp sides, as soon as you see your body being pounded into the bed, you feel your walls begin to tighten. Can you even call it that? You're so stretched out by him it's hard to tell if you're even capable of tightening around him.

Kiri sure seems to notice though, letting out short, pretty moans from the back of his throat each time he sinks in. Then you both see it, your eyes lock on it, both under a perverted trance. Each time he thrusts all the way in, your stomach buldges out a little, his incredible size displacing your insides as he fucks into you.

"God that's- fuck baby- you see that?" He stutters out, placing his massive hand on your waist so he can lay his thumb over your stomach and feel his cock head poking out from inside of you.

All you can do is gawk up at him and let your body be jostled by him as he continues to break in your body.

"How's it feel angel?" He asks, voice gentle and coaxing.

"So. Good. Daddy- fuck." You stutter out, the words come out choppy, cut off as you jolt from his pace.

"You feel so perfect, so fucking perfect." He mutters before diving down to press his open mouth to your neck.

He attempts to kiss you there, but all he can manage is a sloppy, inconsistent tongue against your skin. With his mouth open, you can hear all his sweet moans unabashed, and it's fucking beautiful.

A particularly broken sounding moan reaches your ears as Kiri grabs the meat of your thighs with his strong hands, angling your legs upwards a little more. His hands slide up to secure themselves under your knees, pressing them upwards he successfully folds you in half.

The tops of your thighs press into your sides as he braces himself up a little more, using your crumbled body as leverage. The second he sinks in from this new position, your thighs tremble and your cunt spasms. You cry out as your hands fly to his abs, almost pushing him back, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Overwhelmed, but so enraptured. Tears prick your eyes as you watch every muscle of his ripple as he works hard to fuck you this relentlessly.

"Talk to me sweetheart, how's it feel?" He asks, voice strained and unsteady.

"Feels- so- fuckin- good- Daddy." You all but sob, blinking the tears from your eyes as your jaw drops.

"You're such a good little girl, you look so pretty on your back."

His words hit a nerve you didn't know you had. The filthy praise, the sounds of his hot skin slapping yours with each thrust, the crushing grip he has on you, it's all awakening something deep in your chest. More, you need more.

"M-more- fuck- please give me more- I'm so close." Is all you can manage as the tears start to fall, wetting your rosey cheeks.

"Shit- give it to me baby, let go, I'll fuck you through it, just let go." He eggs you on. One of his arms shifts to hook your knee over his elbow as he sets the other beside your head to brace himself.

As soon as he releases that one leg, bending the other up even more as his thumb gets to work drawing figure eights on your clit, it's fucking over. You shiver and sob and claw. The most spectacular sensation you've ever felt takes over your entire body.

It captures every inch of your skin, wrapping it in velvety ecstasy. Your nerves shatter like glass, sending shards of pleasure flying in every direction. You can feel it up your spin, in the backs of your legs, and deep down in your chest.

Your body goes limp as your walls pulse around him, and he sure does fuck you through it. Your head flops back as you take it all, cherishing every sharp hit to your abused cervix.

"Gimme one more princess, I'm almost there." He moans, pulling your brain out of its stew.

You blink up at him, finally realizing how hard you're crying. As soon as you make eye contact, your heart nearly flies out of your ribcage. He's so fucking beautiful. Brows drawn together in a look of pure determination, skin dewy and flushed, bright ruby eyes looking at you like you hung the stars.

"I love you- fuck Kiri- I love you, I love you, I love you." You babble, hands sliding up tangle in the hair at the back of his head.

His eyes flutter at the sensation, nearly rolling back into his head. Kirishima is a slut for gentle touches like that, a trait that makes your heart go all gooey.

"I love you so much more angel." He sighs, eyes full of fondness and what you can only describe as home.

He's still fucking going. Pounding into you just as before, and your cunt is somehow taking it so well. You feel made for him, nobody else.

"Poor baby." He says as he brings a hand up to your cheek to wipe some tears.

The slight mocking tone sets a fire in your belly, another feeling to add to the endless list of things you're learning about yourself tonight.

"Did Daddy fuck you too good? Can't help but fuckin' cry about it?" His voice is back to straining, shoulders drawing up again, like he's trying to hold back.

Oh hell no.

"Y- yes Daddy, fucked me so good, you ruined this little pussy." You shock yourself with the vulgarity of your words, almost embarrassed by it. It's short lived though, given the way Kiri huffs out a gorgeous, "oh fuck", as he buckels down on his thrust even more.

The sparks start to fire again as your nerves wind back up, not even fully recovered from your last orgasm.

The hand on your cheek twitches down, but halts once his thumb presses into your jaw. It all clicks when he looks into your eyes, a silent plea in them.

You don't waste a single second, nodding frantically as you seize his wrist. You bring his hand down so he can rest his palm against your throat.

"Please, I want it." You beg with a pathetic voice, sniffling at the end as more tears fall when you feel your walls start to contract again.

He looks almost relieved, eyebrows relaxing on his scrunched face as his shoulders drop. He tentatively presses his large thumb into your pulse before speaking with a harsh, authoritative voice. His hips slow only slightly, more rolling than thrusting now, but still just as deep, still just as jolting.

"If it's too much, at any point, you tap me three times, let me see you do it."

You offer three pats against the forearm of the hand on your throat, gazing up at him with pleading eyes, desperate for approval. Obviously, you've never done anything like this. Nothing even close, but with Kiri looking at you like you're made of porcelain, you'd trust him enough to try anything.

"Good fuckin' girl." His voice drops, a powerful, deep rumble as his hips start to work up speed again.

The hand teasing your throat starts to tighten, but not how you expect. There's little to no pressure on your actual throat, most of it is on the sides. His grip cuts off the blood flow enough to give you a wonderful, delirious feeling in your head. Your whole body reacts to the exhilarating sensation. You can't help but let out a strangled moan once Kiri reaches his previous pace once again.

He fucks into you so intently, chasing his own release now. Your muscles start to seize again, walls twitching as you moan out nonsense praises below him.

"Little baby likes bein' choked, huh?" He taunts, releasing his grip just enough for your head to fill up with clarity again.

Then it clicks, he's allowing you to respond, he wants you to.

"I do, I fuckin' love it." You assure him, your voice doesn't even sound like you anymore. All whiney and wanton, full of lust and desperation. That greedy feeling scratches at your insides again. It fills your chest with white hot need for something rougher, nastier, more shameful.

"Be mean to me, Daddy, make me your bitch."

It all happens so incredibly fast. Suddenly, Kiri fucking growls down at you as he rips himself from your overworked hole. The absence of his massive length makes you cry out, you want to argue but your words are stolen from you by his next move. His hands are on your waist in the blink of an eye. He flips you onto your stomach, the speed of the rotation makes you instantly dizzy.

He straddles the backs of your thighs. Rough, selfish hands slide up the backs of your thighs. He gathers the fat of your ass in his palms and squeezes, letting out a low chuckle when you jump at the harsh feeling.

"So, you wanna be my bitch?" He asks, the tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine. He sounds almost… sadistic?

You don't get a chance to answer before his palm cracks across your ass cheek.

You yelp and whip your head around to give him a pouting look as you wipe more of your tears. The sight of him makes your dripping pussy clench around nothing.

He's sat back on your thighs, almost lazily. He isn't truly sitting on you, though, he would absolutely crush you. He's just braced over you, one hand stroking his glistening cock as the other kneads as your plush ass.

You just nod as your hands stretch out in front of you, grasping at the pillows, the sheets, the headboard, anything you can get a hold of.

His eyes are wild, strands of scarlet hair stick to his forehead with sweat. His stunning, chiseled muscles all flex as he pumps himself. Seeing him like this, it hits that rebellious nerve. There's no such thing as first time nerves now, your Kirishima's bitch, and that's all you want to be.

"Please, give it to me Big Daddy." You bat your eyelashes and bring your thumb to your mouth so you can bite down on it.

His hand freezes, body rigid with what must be shock. The hand on your ass slides up your back at a torturous pace. Buzzing anticipation settles in your gut as he leans down so he can spread his finger through the hair at the back of your head. Gathering a handful, he tightens his grip so he can crank your head back.

The bite at your scalp distracts you just long enough for him to press his broad tip against your quivering hole again.

"You think you're cute, don't you?" He says, low and dangerous.

   You just blink at him, brain firing wildly to try and process every new addiction you're developing. Slowly, cautiously, you shake your head.

   "Oh but baby…" He leans down even more so he can press his lips under your ear. 

  "You are. You think you can say something like that and get away with it. It's adorable."   As he talks, he presses his length into you. You would think that after being fucked for so long that your hole would have been more prepared for him. You're so fucking wrong. The stretch is just like it was when he first put it in, but this time you're so ready for it, you welcome it.

  "When you talk like that, you're gonna get your shit rocked." He mumbles against your ear.

   You feel his hands at your hips, then you feel him hoist you up so your ass is in the air and your face is in the pillows. Then, all you feel is a shockwave of pleasure as he rams into you from behind. Within seconds, he has you squirming and screaming as he decimates your cunt over and over again.

   The hand buried in your hair pulls your head to the side so you can moan out into the air instead of into the pillows.

   "What are you?" He asks, the hand that isn't in your hair snakes around your waist so he can bring your torso up and press your back against his chest.

   The action has you reeling, because your knees lift off the bed in order for you to be high enough to be fucked in this position. That's not a problem for Kiri though, he easily holds you up with the arm around your waist. Your legs dangle as he falls forward, other hand leaving hair so he can brace on the headboard.

   "Daddy asked you a question." He pants against your ear. Hips still snapping into you impossibly fast.

   "I'm your bitch- fucking hell- I'm your little bitch." You cry out, tears falling as one arm flies to hold the back of his neck as the other grabs at the arm around your waist.

   His fingers bite your side as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He moans as he soothes the mark with his hot tongue. 

  "That's right, you like it don't you? You like bein' a little cry baby for this fucking cock. Don't you baby?" His words are dripping with the most sinful tone, even without any attention to your clit, your cunt starts to dance around him once again. Just his voice, his voice and his nasty praises are enough to start another fucking orgasm.

   "Oh I fuckin felt that- You really do want me to be mean, huh?"

   "Please- oh fuck- please, Daddy, please!" You sob.

  "'Please, Daddy, please.'" He says with a mocking tone, "I told you to use your words, brat." That does it, "brat", something clicks within you. It fills you with a sticky, sweet feeling. It's something more intriguing than anything else you've felt. Whatever the feeling  is, you're absolutely starving for more of it.

   "Use me, please, use my little hole, let me feel you cum." You finally conjure a reply, digging it up from your newly found well of obscene phrases.

   "Shit, princess, I'm gonna- fuck-"

   Your filthy words seem to be enough to send him into a frenzy. Again his hands are on your waist, pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your back before he plunges back into you after your back hits the mattress.

   He's so rough and fast now, all desperate, harsh hands as he fucks and fucks and fucks.

   "Look at me, fucking look at me." He grabs your jaw, eyes full of feral desire.

   "I'm gonna fill you up, you're gonna take all of it aren't you? 'Cause you're a good little slut." He commands before letting his other hand fly to your clit as you nod and stutter out promises that you'll do as he says.

   As soon as his fingers start rubbing, your body seizes. Your eyes stay on his, nails scratching down his back as you cry and shake and writhe.

   "That's it- fuck yeah- that pussy's gonna make me cum- you're gonna make me fuckin' cum- SHIT!" His voice breaks at the end, a crackling shout as his hips falter and he sinks all the way into your silky walls.

   Your eyes stay locked on each other's, he drops his forehead onto yours. The hand grasping your jaw moves to cup your face, his other hand coming up to mirror it so he can cradle your head.

   This orgasm is much softer than the others, all fuzzy and warm as it oozes through your limbs. Kiri rolls his hips into you as his cock spits hot cum deep inside of you. You both shutter and moan, hands loosening you finally feel him fill you up. Something you should have probably expected, is just how much he cums. He pulses again and again and again as your walls massage him. He fills you so much that he leaks out around himself, inevitably ruining the sheets beneath you both.

   The feeling is foreign, briefly uncomfortable, but it quickly becomes a comfort. As your bodies calm, his hips still with one final gush into you. His thumbs rub your cheeks, wiping the remaining tears.

   "You ok?" He asks with a scratchy, tender voice.

   "Perfect, baby, that was perfect." You sigh as you pull him down for a kiss.

   It's slow and feather soft, your lips work so reverently against each other, thankful for everything you've both shared.

   He inches his hips back so he can pull his softening length out of you. Both of you shiver once he's all the way out, then you feel the mess he made inside you spill onto the bed.

   "I should probably go get cleaned up…" You say as your cheeks heat, not at all prepared for what happens after something so intense.

   He just looks at you like you're growing a second head.

   "Princess, I'm gonna take care of that." He assures you.

   Before you can argue, he's got you scooped up into his arms. He carries you off to the bathroom, completely abandoning the wreck you've left on your bed. You wrap your legs around his waist the best you can and bury your face into his neck. You feel strangely dependent and needy. You suppose that must be normal after something like that.

   Once you're in the bathroom, he steps into the shower. He secures you with one arm around your waist so he can flip the water on with the other.

   You try to ease yourself down from him, but the second you move your legs you're made aware of the powerful ache in your center. Standing might not be an option right now, or tomorrow.

  "I gotcha, baby, don't worry." He says before kissing your temple.

   You don't answer, just hold onto him nuzzle into his strong chest.

   The shower is filled with gentle kisses and an abundance of sugary words. He tells you how well you did, thanks you for trusting him, kisses the parts that hurt. He makes you feel so explicitly loved, so abundantly cherished. It feels your heart with syrupy fondness. It's all so blurry, but all so distinct. Every soothing touch as he washes you lures you further and further into a state of complete relaxation. He puts lotion all over you afterwards, making sure he's careful with the tender spots. Soon you're wrapped in a plush towel, perched on the counter as he combs your damp hair.

   You let out a long sigh at the cathartic feeling, then lean forward to kiss collar bone. You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. You snake your arms around his waist and pull his huge frame between your legs. He sets the comb down before bringing his hands up to hold the sides of your head.

   "You're my sweet girl, you know that right?" He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

   You nod and give him a soft "mhm" as you press your lips into the opposite collar bone.

   "Words please?" He asks, gentle and guiding.

   Your brain is still so incredibly foggy, you're having a horrible time trying to scrounge up any coherent phrases.

   One of his hands slides down the side of your face until it settles under your jaw, with the pad of his thumb against your chin and his index finger under your jaw, he tilts your head up so you have to meet his eyes.

   "What are you?" His eyebrows raise slightly, eyes full of adoration.

   "I'm your sweet girl." You somehow manage the admission with a hoarse voice.

   "Perfect, don't ever forget that." He kisses the top of your head then, breathing in as he pulls you against him even more.

   You love Kirishima, and he loves you. You both feel it in your bones. He has all of you now, and you feel like you have all of him. Regardless of past sexual experience, you've both given each other something new to cherish and learn about.

    "Let's get you to bed." He says before attempting to scoop you up again.

   "Uh- Kiri?" You say, pressing your hands to his chest to stop him.

  "Hm?"

   "I'm kinda hungry…" You admit, suddenly aware of the gnawing in your belly.

   He looks down at you for a brief second, an amazed look dances in his eyes before he throws his head back to let out a rich laugh.

   "Burgers, and then bed?" He asks fondly, head tilting down to kiss your forehead.

   "Oh fuck yeah." You say excitedly, the promise of a big nasty burger makes you giddy.

   It's not long before you're sat next to Kiri at a booth in your favorite burger joint. One heavy arm draped over your shoulders, the other holding a massive cheeseburger. You sit comfortably dressed in one of his hoodies, it falls all the way to your knees, drowning your body in fabric that smells like him.

   He takes one, huge, messy bite out of his burger. Lettuce and condiments flops onto his plate as you carefully bite your own.

  "You're an animal." You giggle up at him.

   He considers your statement as he chews, then leans down next to your ear once he's swallowed.

   "You like it." He whispers.

   Your spine goes rigid and blush heats your cheeks. Of course nobody heard, only a few others out at this hour, but you can't help but glance around the diner to make sure.

   You slap his arm and pout up at him.

  "That's not fair." You protest, but you can't help the smile that spreads when you see him beaming at you with all his pointy teeth on display.

   The rest of the night is spent full of laughter and teasing over milkshakes. You eventually wind up back home, tangled in bed together. After a change of bedding of course. You press yourself into Kirishima as much as you possibly can, though you'd both be content to melt into each other if it were possible. As you drift off, you thank your lucky stars for the man holding you, for the safety he provides, for such a dazzling first time. You're glad you waited, you'd do it again, you'd do it forever if it meant you could share it with Kirishima.     

[make-me-imagine]

Hi!! Congratulations on your follower milestone, you're amazing and you deserve every single one of them! Can I please request ships for M*A*S*H and The Magnificent Seven 2016 (no gender preference)?

I am a female (she/her pronouns), an INFP, a Ravenpuff, and a panromantic asexual woman. I'm incredibly loyal to my friends and family, and I try to be kind to every one I meet, at least unless they prove they don't deserve it. I'm also generally pretty friendly and talkative, but I'm also amazingly socially awkward and there are times when I just prefer to stay in my room and not talk to anybody. My love language is definitely touch, and I will give a hug to basically anyone who asks for one. I'm also autistic with a photographic memory, which most people assume means I'm super smart, but really most of the stuff I remember is just random lines from a book I read three years ago (😂).

I really love reading and writing, and just books in general (my ultimate career goal is to be a librarian), as well as baking, watching movies, and listening to music (mainly country or musical theatre songs). Because of my autism, I can't stand loud noises or mushy textures, and I hate know-it-alls or bigots of any kind. I also hate being touched without warning, as I'm sensitive to touch and it tends to overwhelm me.

I don't really actively seek out too much in a partner. All I really want is someone kind, reasonably intelligent, respectful, and someone who can hold a good conversation. And if they're willing and able to put up with my constant need for affection and rambling about my random special interests? That's just a bonus (😅).

Alright, that's all for that! Hope this was enough for you, and I look forward to my ships!! Congrats again, and I hope you're doing well!! 🖤🖤🖤

For Others: Ships are now CLOSED

Thank you! <3

I hope you like them :)

MASH:

I ship you with BJ!

BJ is super, caring, loving and considerate and I think the two of you would form an amazing bond.

Runner Up: Radar O'Reilly

Headcanons:

You and BJ started out as friends and were always around each other. He understood you like no one else and made you laugh. No one was surprised when the two of you actually started dating, in fact there were bets as to how long it would take.

In this world, I don't imagine you being at the MASH unit, you are back home working as a librarian.

You and BJ send letters back and forth as often as you can. You send him gifts and food, and he sends you trinkets back. His letters are always long, and you keep every one of them safe.

When the war was over, BJ showed up your doorstep with flowers and a new mustache. Whether of not you liked the mustache didn't matter, all you cared about was that he was home safe.

You spent the next three days with each other, holding each other, telling stories, laughing, crying, and reminding each other how much you missed each other, etc.

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

Mag7:

I ship you with Billy!

Billy is a great guy, and super loving in various ways. He can tell how you are feeling at pretty much all times, and seems to always know what you want and how to make you happy.

Runner Up: Red Harvest

'Moment of Realization'

Billy knew he cared for you, he knew he appreciated you, he knew all of this. But he did not realize he loved you, until the moment he thought he lost you.

As the dust settled, and the fires were extinguished. Billy's eyes cast over the torn up town. The remnants of the men they had fought fled, it was over.

But Billy didn't care. He just needed to find you, to see if you were okay. Every face Billy's eyes landed on wasn't yours. The more time passed and he did not see you, the faster his heart beat.

His chest grew tight as anxiety coursed through him. As his eys met Goodies he spoke in a low tone, Goodie could tell he was scared.

"Where is Y/n?"

Goodie frowned as he shook his head and shrugged. He didn't know, no one knew.

Billy paced down the street of the town, his eyes falling on every person and body he saw. Panic began to set it.

"Billy!" A voice called out from nearby.

Billy's neck snapped towards the direction of the noise. Seeing you stepping out of the bank, disheveled, but alive, Billy felt a heavy weight lift off his chest.

He had never felt so relieved than to see you were okay. And he never felt so much love for someone, as when he set his eyes on you again.

As you approached you, you reached out your arms, and he gratefully pulled you into a hug. He gripped you tight and let out a shuttered sigh.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered out.

He had never felt so afraid as when he feared he lost you, before he ever had the chance to love you.

You let out a soft sigh "No, I'm alright. And so are you. It's okay., it's over."

Billy buried his face in your neck as he continued to embrace you. Yes, it was over. But it was also the beginning of something else entirely.

[interact-if]

Umm hi 👉👈 I realized that most of the asks you guys get are about games and rec lists. You guys deserve so much recognition for the work you put in this blog, so I wanted to ask if I can do a little get-to-know-the-mods thing? If that's okay!

1. Besides writing, what are your hobbies?

2. Do you have a niche interest right now?

3. Any fave songs/artists/bands?

4. Any fave movies/tv shows?

5. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you survive in your wip's world?

You can totally ignore this if you guys want, no pressure. Anyway, much love to all the interact-if mods! You guys are incredible! ❤

We saw this ask and we went 👀 👀 👀 so we’re happy to answer! Thank you so much for the fun ask!

 We also rated our survivability in all of our collective games, since Mars isn't an author! Fun stuff! Spoilers, though: it’s really not looking so great for me (Dani) but that’s fine!!!  😌

1. I’m a photographer as well as a graphic artist (but not like. A painter/drawer kind of artist!) and, on a general level, a maker and a tinkerer!

2. Fountain pens! I only write with ink, and only with fountain pens, and I use bottled inks/converters!

3. I’m pretty eclectic with music, but my top genres are alt rock, indie, indie pop, etc, as well as top 40s and some rap.

4. I feel like this is the hardest one for me to answer? Favorite movies/shows? Avatar: the Last Airbender has been a favorite show of mine since I was a little kid, but I have a harder time thinking of shows I would call a favorite in recent years. There are shows I’ve liked, and a lot of shows I’ve watched. But I’m picky! And demanding! It takes a lot to earn a place in Dani’s Trophy Case of Favorites. 😌 I would say I quite liked A Quite Place (movie), and I liked Us (movie). When it comes to TV shows, I have a hard time being pleased with them if they don’t end well. As a result, I have a penchant for a good limited series/miniseries (because they’re stories that have an end in mind and the plot reflects that, dagnabbit).

5. Heh. Okay.

In The Goodfellows? I think I stand I chance. I can exercise my sparkling wit and lovable personality to the best effect. I’m gonna give myself an 8/10 survivability rating. Even if I don’t have the right skills, I can go crying to the person who does and they’ll save me. Maybe.

In Creatures’ Cradle? I’m super $**!%d. 😌 1/10 survivability rating. And that 1 is me being nice to myself. The day the apocalypse breaks out I would probably be patient 0. I am self-aware. I would not do well in an apocalypse. Zombies care not for aforementioned sparkling wit and lovable personality, and I have all the muscle of a boiled spaghetti noodle. So it’s a no go.

Greater Than Gods (Cruz): Well. I’m going to be optimistic. And say that I have the wisdom not to do things I shouldn’t do and not to rock boats I shouldn’t rock. I’m going to give myself a 7/10 based on insider information, but also based on reckless optimism!

Vardir (Cruz): Cruz says this is a lighthearted game, so 10/10 LOL.

When it Hungers (Roast): I’m giving myself a nice, mediocre 5/10. I think I could put my mind to work here; I joke that I’m the village idiot, but I’m actually pretty smart! Unfortunately, I’m also curious, and maybe a little bad with authorities who won’t answer my questions. So I knocked off a lot of points due to the fact that I’d probably poke the metaphorical bear. So it’s a real coin flip as to whether I’d really make it or not.

Orthall Bay (Nines): Considering the genre is “horror” and the game intro includes the words “monster” and “maim,” I’m giving myself a whooping, enthusiastic 3/10. Yes, folks, I am that confident in myself! Once again, I can’t charm the socks off a monster (or can I?), so one of my greatest weapons is snatched from beneath my feet. Alas!

1. Beloved I’m a college student in the middle of a pandemic... i can hardly even write LOL i do draw at times which u can see in my personal blog (nothing too good really) and i used to do karate before things went to shit <3

2. Nothing niche I believe? All I do is leave Netflix as bg noise every day n play popular videgames (genshin)

3. Porter Robinson <3 I love Bea Miller a lot as well but lately I’ve been feeling Porter a lot

4. The Good Place <3

5. My WIPs:

Greater than Gods: Highly situational, the world GtG is set in is as broad as the real world LOL so I don’t have an universal answer. But keeping it vague, and knowing my own personality, I feel like 5/10. depends on my luck.

Vardir: 10/10 no one dies in Vikgade, unless you’re a hunter but I wouldn’t be a hunter <3

Others’ WIPs

I'm gonna give myself a solid 5/10 in all other WIPs because y'all aren't writing lighthearted stories either. I feel like as long as I avoid the role of the MC I will be mostly fine. I hope. But as Dani said I'm also prone to fight the wrong person and dig my own grave so 😌

1. Well, writing is a very, very, very, distant hobby since Words Hard, but I like to crochet and sculpt a little! Anything to do with fiddling with my hands and I’m good to go. And like, debatable but graphic design is my passion [insert clown emoji here since Tumblr said No]

2. Oh yeah a bunch! DnD yelling at people, thinking of arson, crocheting, rock climbing and simply vibing. I got into podcasts a few years ago and I’m always looking for more recs, so if you have some, hmu 😤

3. Pls,,,,my music taste is,,,so weird do not let me expose myself with lack of consistency but uhh. Current songs that are stuck in my head include; Cult of Dionysus , Achilles Come Down and The Last Shanty  

4. If you’ve ever spoken to me before, I probably yelled about Pacific Rim to you or at you. Plus I love all The Mummy films and really enjoyed Castlevania (s3 excluded, we do not perceive that) as well! 

5. Ah, mod survival simulator pt. 3

Alright, let’s go!  I don’t have a WIP because again, words hard, but like, considering how feral I am when not tryna seem professional hm... 

The Goodfellows: I wanna say a solid 7/10 because I’d hardcore vibe with the Traveler and probably instigate so much nonsense. I can also bribe with blueberry cake so maybe. 

Creature’s Cradle: maybe a 4/10 and only because of pure spite keeping me alive long enough to smack someone. I’ve prepared for hypothetical  zombie apolcapyses and I won’t hesitate to bap, but will be bapped back because I’m weak as hell. 

Greater Than Gods: a toss up between 2/10 and 7/10! I can vibe and be chill but I also have terrible impulse control so... 

Vardir: hm....I think pretty good survival rates all around? If you ask me to fight then like, okay sure, your knees are mine. So maybe a 8/10? 

When it Hungers: .......8/10 just because I’d refuse to die if I can be a cool creature. Living for the aesthetic can and will drag me outta hell. But I’m also clumsy as hell so I’d probably crash as a porcelain or hold a rooster and perish (aka, real rating is a good 3/10) 

Orthall Bay: 2/10, nope. Nope I’d be taken out in a heartbeat. Monsters can go pspsps and I’d head straight into the dark creepy forest like a fool if someone comes @ me. Half the time I’ll just assume it’s sfx makeup and vibe until it’s too late. 

god, never put me in a universe where I cannot squawk like a bird and throw pebbles from a window. Oof

Anon, you're so sweet! I give you a forehead smoomch <333 As for your questions...

1. If I'm not writing, I'm usually watching video essays on Youtube. My go-to channels as of right now is Disrupt and Aperture! I just really like their videos. Aside from that, I recently got into podcasts. Currently going through Hello From The Hallowoods and Shelter and Warning, which are made by queer creators!

2. Oh oof, there's quite a bit so I'm just gonna put down one thing. For some reason, I really got into collecting tiny astronaut things? I recently bought this astronaut desk light, and I've got a package coming in for the miniatures I ordered. No purpose for them other than I think they're neat <3

3. I'm a bit private with my music taste (even tho I have Spotify connected on Discord lmao), but there's 5 songs that I'm currently obsessed with. I keep replaying them over and over again. Just squeezing all the serotonin I could get outta them.

4. I can't really say I have a fave TV show or movie because I can't really just pick one, but my current fave is 9-1-1 and Resident Alien. 9-1-1 because I just really love the found-family dynamics and how the show tackles sensitive topics, and Resident Alien because it's lighthearted comedy. My all-time fave movie is Flipped! I have the book too and I like rereading from time to time <3

5. You're in for a doozy, anon, because we're rating each other's games <333

The Goodfellows: 7/10

Listen. Shenanigans with the Traveler. I would get up to so many of them and that is what'll get me possibly bodied, not the actual environment itself <3

Greater than Gods: 7/10

I like to think I have enough common sense to uhhh not recklessly flip stones that should not be flipped <3 I'm a cautious and skeptic person irl so I think I'll hold up well? Then again, it's a vast environment change and while I can adapt pretty quick, I wouldn't like the lack of control in the unknown.

Vardir: 10/10

Going off what Cruz said, Vardir is lighthearted and focused on personal growth so I think I'll be okay! Self-growth here I come, babey!

Creatures' Cradle: 8/10

Maybe I'm overestimating myself, but I think I'll be able to survive in a supernatural post-apocalyptic world! Ah, but it depends on the motivation though. I like the idea of rebuilding communities and eventually societies, but the survival turmoil would be a constant battle I'd have to overcome. If we're talking survival itself though, I think I'll do well.

When it Hungers: 8/10

That's probably my wishful thinking but I think I'll be fine. Maybe. Possibly. Don't like the idea of being regulated by an organization so if I was a non-human creature that could pose a problem but I can roll with it <3

Orthall Bay: 6/10

Assuming I'm not playing as MC, my chances of survival uhhh changes quite drastically. Not enough to guarantee an untimely demise, but certainly enough that it would constantly keep me on my toes. I think that's the safest answer I can get without spoiling anything lmao

Thank you so much for asking! It's super sweet of you <3

1. Too many :'D I knit, I sew, I do carpentry (well, learning), I bake, I'm hammering away at HTML and CSS, my job kind of encourages learning new things and I take that to picking up new hobbies!

2. My time is kind of consumed with school work and work work and WIP work so not a lot of time to pursue niche interests right now. I've been watching a lot of horror game playthroughs, true crime youtubers, and an adorable show on Netflix called the Repair Shop <3

3. My taste in music is "what am I vibing with atm?" I've been listening to a lot of 80's music atm (don't @ me), but also Lo Fang and Kaleo, and whatever spotify recommends me on my discover weekly which is usually complete chaos.

4. I love the Mummy even though it hasn't aged 100% well (I'm a librarian, of course it's one of my gotos LOL), Legally Blonde, Leverage, Jumanji (the original), I'm....very bad at having recent tastes... and very bad at remembering my favorites when asked.

5.

The Goodfellows: I'm a creature of comfort, 5/10 if I can just luxuriate in town and not actually interact with the story sfjkdbsdkf

Creature’s Cradle: I'd like to think I have a 50/50 shot XD 5/10, I want to think I'd be decent at a zombie apocalypse but ultimately would suffer an early fate.

Greater Than Gods: 10/10 if I'm just vibing, less so if I'm involved in the actual story XD

Vardir: I'd still suffer without technology but I can also knit for a living in this world so I'm down 8/10

When it Hungers: I feel like I could vibe here, there's tech if dated, hot showers, telephones are around by now... might still get bored. 7/10 though it'd be cool to be another creature....I should make a 'what creature of snv are you' quiz!

Orthall Bay: 7/10 idk I feel like after the first monster of the week I'd just skip town XDDDD I'm the worst protagonist, I see danger I just leave.

[mah-gah-lee]

They had been lovers - (alex mercer x sibling! reader) + (luke patterson x reader)

words count: 2052

request: no

summary:  Y/N find a huge secret about his brother and need some time alone. But Alex seems to want talking about all of this.

warnings: sadness (?)

a/n : I tried to make this fic gender neutral, I’m not sure I've succeed but I really tried.

If you want to be tagged in my next fic, let me know! Don’t forget to tell me if you've liked it!  

tagged: @standingtalllove​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​  @asdfghjkl-fanfics  @lukeys-giggle​

The night was beautiful, the clear and dark sky made it possible to see the thousands of small dots twinkling. The stars were multiplying in the sky like the hundreds of thoughts going through your head. You were serene, calm and the immensity of the night did not scare you. You wouldn't trade your seat for anything in the world. Even though your head was full, you had the strange feeling of being emptied. Being alone on this roof didn’t scare you, on the contrary, it washed away all the anxieties that had been created in the hollow of your chest these last hours. After finding out about this secret, you couldn't blame your brother. Or rather, you couldn't be mad at him for that reason. But you were hurt. A twenty-five years silence had been broken, an intimate information Alex had kept deeply for himself, for them. A secret that destroyed the dusts of hope that had formed in your soul since you were fourteen. The theories about twins have never been truer than now: they shared everything, down to the person they had feelings for.

 This will teach you to dig through your old stuff. But could the boys really blame you? The loft was a mess, it was flooded with all your stuff. Rose seemed to have kept everything: some of the boys' clothes - most of which belonged to Luke since he had mostly lived in the garage when he had run away - their instruments, the many songbooks, the demos, the band's banner, but also, countless memories like many Polaroids.

Among the photos that you had browsed to get drunk of the times when the four of you were still alive, you have discovered some more intimate than others. It all started with a photo of Alex asleep on the sofa: "First night", another where you could see two hands intertwined, you recognized Luke's rings. Alex also wore rings, but it was the tricolor bracelet that made you realize it was him with Luke. Another cliché was becoming even more obvious: Luke licking Alex's cheek as your brother grimaced in mock disgust. In the white space of the Polaroid it was written in black felt-tip pen with a messy handwriting: "playing with the handsome boyfriend"

 But it was the last picture that broke your heart. Luke seemed to be the most romantic of the couple, which surprised you a bit as your brother was quite sentimental. The last shot showed the guitarist, supposedly lying on the sofa bed. Around his neck, Alex's blonde head could clearly be seen. He was tight against him, hiding, perfectly asleep. Both were shirtless, which made you uncomfortable looking at the photo. Once again, a note was written on the white space of the polaroid: "a year of love".

 One year. A full year, twelve months of a secret relationship and maybe even more. How long have they loved each other? How long had it lasted? Because you couldn't really deny this information anymore, the photo made it obvious: they had been lovers.

 A distinct pop sound was heard. The sound of a few footsteps on the roof tiles caught your attention, but you didn't move. The movements approached you, a fuzzy pink shape giving you a clue to the disruptor of your thoughts. Soon, the intruder comes to lie down next to you, leaving you overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne. You don't need all these little details to recognize your neighbor on the right. There was only one person who allowed himself to enter into such a private moment: your brother.

 You felt blue and you let the darkness of the night engulf you. The secret that you had discovered explained many things like: this complicity that Alex shared with him and only him, the small touches, the looks that you had sometimes intercepted between the two musicians. You knew now: They had been lovers.

 Silence reigned for several minutes without it being awkward, neither of you or Alex knowing how to start this conversation. Come to think of it, was there really a need to discuss it? It was the drummer who finally broke the silence.

 “y/n…i’m sorry”

 You let out a sigh before smiling weakly into the night. It was typical of your brother: apologizing when there was no need. Alex was a sensitive person and even under his armor of sarcasm he was incredibly gentle.

 “why are you apologizing about, ‘lex?”

“I didn’t know. I’m your brother, your twin, and I didn’t know.”

“I am the one who hides his emotions the best.”

"Why didn't you tell me?"

 Slowly you turned your head to look deeply at your brother. You could see the worry in his eyes but also the regret. This question, you could very well have asked him in return because between you two, it was him who had hidden a huge secret. But you couldn't blame him, it was his right. You didn't have any and that's why you kept your feelings quiet.

 "Because you would have tried to control your feelings to make me happy."

 Alex couldn't lie about it. It didn't matter what he had been through with the guitarist and lead singer of their band. If he had known his sibling had feelings for Luke, he would have suppressed his in a second. Despite your lying positions, you could see him look down, seeming to consider your words. He knew you were right, that he would have done anything for you even if it meant sacrificing his feelings for his best friend.

 "Alex, you have the right to be happy."

 But it was not enough. Your brother was moving his thoughts like you had done a few minutes before. This situation seemed to upset him, like any situation involving change.

 "’Lex ..."

 The blond drummer turned his face to you, lost. You knew you would have to find the right words, in addition to repeating the ones you had already said just a few seconds ago. You sighed to give yourself a little courage, helping him to find a calm that had escaped very slightly.

 "I don't blame you. We don't control how we feel. I'm not mad at you. You deserve to be happy, Alex."

 A faint smile played on the corners of Alex's lips as a few tears beaded from his eyes. Slowly, you stretched out your hand to erase them with the back of your index finger. It was your turn to be the protective sibling. Sometimes Alex needed to be reminded that he was important and that thinking about himself wouldn't hurt him.

  You've always had a crush on Luke. You realized your feelings for your brother's best friend when you were fourteen. You had never declared yourself, however, considering that the friendship that existed between your brother and the guitarist was too precious. Friendship ... If only you had known that there had always been more than that between them. Because the reality was there: They had been lovers

 But despite your feelings, you had always been close to Luke, as you were to Reggie. They were first and foremost Alex's best friends, but step by step they had become yours.

 “Does he know? Does he know that…I love him ?” you asked

“I think he's starting to understand.”

 Since your arrival in 2020, things had changed between you and Luke. The first time the guitarist had been to see his parents, Alex, Reggie and you had followed him in secret. But when the boys left, finding it best to leave Luke alone, you stayed. You stayed until he saw you and got angry. You stayed until he exploded again, in your arms as you ran your hands through his messy hair, kissing the top of his head tenderly to give him the much-needed comfort. Because deep down you knew. You knew Luke just needed to be loved again, he needed to be “touched” after seeing his parents again.

 After that moment everything started to change. It was like Luke needed your presence all the time, to feel against him. He was eager to hug you, rub his nose on your neck, or just kiss your cheek. You had the impression to feel his gaze sliding over you more than usual, you melted when he gave you a warm smile. But all of this, all of these signs that you thought you saw might have just been your imagination.

 Silence came over you again and once again it wasn't embarrassing. You liked the silence, you liked looking at the stars without any noise around you. Only your breaths disturbed this soothing silence. As you gazed at the sky, you couldn't help but countless thoughts cross your mind. You had so many questions for Alex. How did it happen? When did it happen? How long had it lasted? Were they still together today? You seemed to know that last answer already, having noticed the looks Luke had been giving Julie over the past few weeks, especially at the concert they played Finally Free. But the only question that crossed your lips was this one:

 “Do you still love him?”

 You looked back at your brother, only to see him smirk, almost nostalgic.

 “Part of me always will. He’s my first love.”

 It seemed like a logical answer and it broke your heart once again, although on a certain side hearing this from your brother seemed to hit you less and less hard. Reality hit you with less pain. You were starting to get used to this idea. They had been the most important person to each other for a year: they had been lovers.

 “You know…it’s over…between me and him”

 Unconsciously, your brother had answered one of the questions you had been asking yourself since the moment you discovered this secret. In a way, you were sad to hear that your brother was no longer with Luke. That their relationship was over and your curiosity took precedence, once again.

 “why?”

“because we work better by being best friend. Because I know he’s falling for someone great.”

 You regretted your question now. Luke had evolved, just like Alex was currently doing with Willie, although that's what led you to Caleb and those really painful electric shocks. But it was obvious, Luke was also starting to recover from this love affair and you noticed how not special you were another one was. All those looks, those moments where your skin had touched, everything was in your head, everything was only the rantings of a teenager in love.

 “Yeah, Julie is great”. you said with a little disappointment in your voice

 Alex chuckled. You had both risen to a sitting position. Your arms circled your knees as you rested your chin on them. You turned your head towards your brother, raising an eyebrow. And despite the darkness of the night, he could see your questioning expression thanks to the reflection of the moon on your face.

 “It’s not Julie I was thinking about”

“Reggie?”

 Alex laughed again before sighing gently. You couldn't be so oblivious or you just tried to ignore the possibility, shielding yourself from possible teenage grief.

 “You.”

"Me?"

“Yes, y/n. You. Luke is falling for you. ”

“But… Alex… he’s.. And, you ..”

“I'm okay with that. You deserve to be happy and I know you’ll be good to each other.”

 In perfect timing, the distinctive sound of a pop was heard behind you. Alex looked up and his shy smile confirmed the doubt that had settled in you as to the identity of this new arrival. Your brother gave you a protective look and then gave you a slight wink.

 "I think you need to talk to each other."

 The blond drummer stood up cautiously and when you turned your head to see him go, you noticed the hand he placed on Luke's shoulder. And the last thing you heard before your brother disappeared into a ghostly cloud was, "I trust you. Take care of her/him like you took care of me, Luke."

 They had been lovers and now, strange as it may sound, you had Alex's blessing ... leaving you the possibility for Luke as for you, of being, in turn: lovers.

[insufferablelust]

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (v)

Hi lovely people! it’s me again with the fifth installment of TAAHM, hopefully y’all enjoy this, as always thank you for your support, and excuse the grammatical errors. As i said before, this story is dark themed, so it can get triggering to some people, please read the warning, and read at your own risk.

WARNINGS : BEWARE DARK FIC. SMUT, Angst to the max, Mental Illness (PTSD, with severe anxiety and depression), Some Fluff, hints/mention of Suicide (doesn’t happen), Psychological abuse (in flashbacks), over sensitivity (both sexual and non sexual), hints of Masochism, Anxiety attack, Soft raw tender moments, aaand thats it.

———————

A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. —Pearl S. Buck.

———🍃———

Little did they know, that night is going to be the beginning of a roller coaster ride.

———//———

It was already late when she opened her eyes the next day, her soft sigh occupied the quiet room as she scanned for the one person she craved the most, biting her lips at the cold left side of the bed sheet. However, he’s kind enough to leave the only thing she could reminisce about last night in a form of a long letter note he left on her night table, written with purple ink,

“Good Morning Y/N,

I hope you’re feeling well, although knowing how anxious you can get, i know your mind would wander off and we don’t want that. If you can remember what i said, then good but if you can’t, i said that i left because it’s more convenient for the both of us, not because i don’t want to be with you. Believe me, watching you sleep right now really put an image inside my memory that i’ll never forget, you’re so beautiful.

I hope you don’t mind, but i put on Debussy on your vinyl right now. I want you to know that we’ll still talk about it, preferably today, maybe we can go have dinner unless we have a case. There are things i never got the chance to say, and i think its time i finally tell you, later.

As for your past, we’ll also talk about that too. But i want you to not worry— yes i’m disappointed still, but i know why you did what you did. We’ll figure out a way.

Lastly, please take care.

Spencer R.”

By the time she had finished reading, her internal being is overflowing with emotions, dangerous ones that she won’t be able to control and she knows this. Her eyes teared up at the sight of ‘Classical Lover Etiquettes’ cued up on her record player. Her legs were incredibly sore, as much as her thighs and arms. There was just so much that’s happening, so much to feel, and she needed to escape.

Her feet dragged her to the balcony, inhaling the scent of life, breathe in heavily as she hoped— cross her fingers hoping to die that the amount of oxygen would be able to drown her from all the confusion, even more so the horrors that started to flows back in. Spencer opened a large deep wound that she had buried a long time ago, and then he showed her the way to paradise. He confuses her as much as she probably confuses him.

She wanted to apologize for being complicated, wanted to get on her knees again and show him how much she needs a savior right now; someone to love, and cherish to get her mind off of the horrible things in the past. She wants him to know that he can help her, by guiding her like he did the night before, by owning her like he said the night before, by loving her like he promised. She needs to be devoted to him, she would do anything for him.

She knows how damaged she is on the inside, she put up a persona every day so people could believe that she’s alive. But the only time she ever felt alive was with Spencer. The only time she ever wished she’s not complicated is when she’s with Spencer, His name consumed her like the opiates she used to take. He owned her soul already and she’s not letting that go. Even if the world stands in her way. She deserves this, this pure thing for once.

So she cried, hard. Hard enough for her neighbors to hear, to check up on her, but she wasn’t listening, she stayed crouched down in her balcony, her vision was blurry and she can’t think of anything— only Spencer.

“Spencer..” was the only thing she remembered saying before she witnessed darkness and drowsiness penetrate her eyes as well as her other senses— sending her to sleep.

———————————

Y/N didn’t even flinched when her father’s screams once again filled her ears, telling her how she doesn’t belong, she isn’t supposed to be here, isn’t supposed to exists. She could smell the strong scent of alcohol from his mouth, clouding her senses, but she refused to give in and cry, in fact she doesn’t feel a thing. Moreover, she’s just bored, her father never got violent with her, never laid a hand on her, neither does her step mother— well not when he’s around anyways.

By the age of 9, Y/N already knew what kind of man her father was, the kind that doesn’t want to admit reality, he’s a violent genius who works in the dark, with barriers covering all sides of his life. He never hurt Y/N physically, like he always claimed. But 12 years of psychological torture will fuck you up, she thought. She lived in isolation, and darkness where the only things she knew.. were alcohol, math, abuse, impending death, and screams.

She doesn’t have anyone related that’s nice to her, enough to shield her from all the abuse. The only person that could bring her peace is Mr. Bones, one of her father’s men. He always looked out for her, he gave her hope ever since she was old enough to know that being told you were never meant to be alive was not okay.

“I apologize, papa. It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

Her eyes stayed on the ground as she feels the warmth of his palm so close to her cheek, she yelled in her mind— her mind telling her to scream at the old bastard to “Hit me!”

“Hit me!”

“Make it hurt!”

“HIT ME!”

——

Y/N felt a jolt, her eyes searching for signs of where she might be but she can’t seem to open her eyes, the smell— is clean like iodine, the next thing she felt was the rough yet strangely comfortable sheets that grazes against her skin, And then she heard the talk, someone’s talking.. She recognized the voice well, so well like its imprinted deep in her soul, She tried to open her eyes.. yet she keeps on missing.

“S-she— i found her pale.. she was so pale and cold.. “ Spencer! her mind screamed, that’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” She tried to yell, but still nothing,

“Spencer please!” Nothing.

“What did her neighbor said?” Hotch!

“Hotch please i’m awake!”

“She was screaming, and they found her clutching her shirt tightly, she was crying and she.. she said my name over and over again, before blacking out.. thats why they called me first after calling 911” Is that true? she has been taking her meds, hasn’t she?

“Did anyone said that she was about to jump or anything like that?”

“No! No! Spencer i’m not suicidal!”

“N-no i don’t know.. Hotch i was with her last night, i should’ve—“

“Please don’t cry! please i’m sorry i love you i won’t do it again!”

“Hey no, she looked like she was having a panic attack. Has she ever mentioned anything about being depressed? or experiencing anxiety attacks maybe?”

“no... no... don’t tell him Spencer, you promised.”

“Stop the silence, Spencer you promised you won’t tell anyone.”

“N-no.. not that i know off.. she wanted company so i stayed with her, we watched movie.”

“Spencer...” She tried again, believing that it won’t work, he won’t hear her, maybe she’s not even here anymore— just floating away from her body. But when she saw his head turned towards her, she sighed contently, letting go of all the burden for a second just to hear him mutter her name in silence and peace.

“Y/N... you’re awake wait let me—“ before he could exit the door, Hotch pulled him back a little, telling him that “It’s okay, let me get the doctor.” Leaving Spencer and her alone.

Her heart rate accelerated as he sat down on the chair next to her, eyes filled with worry and fear— Y/N couldn’t take it, couldn’t bare to see how broken he looks, because she was selfish and complicated, because she was damaged.

“I-i wasn’t... trying to.. jump” Her voice came out laced with fragility, all raw and quiet. She’s trying to tell Spencer that she’s alright, as long as he’s here she’ll be alright. “Don’t.. please don’t blame yourself, it was an anxiety attack, a bad one.”

“Have you been taking your meds?” There it is, the question she has been hoping she wouldn’t have to answer. She looked down at his trembling hands, reaching to grab it but unable to do so because she realized now that she was restrained to the bed.

“Why am i being restrained?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No Spencer i haven’t! now why am i restrained? i’m not a danger to anyone.” Y/N half yelled with a cracked voice, closing her eyes tightly at the tears that’s threatening to spill out of her eyes.

“Miss Bones, i see that you’re awake now.” Her eyes never leaving the sight of her cuffed wrist, ‘did they honestly thought you were planning on killing yourself?’

“I’m not suicidal, i’m an FBI agent for god’s sake.” The tone of her newfound voice surprised everyone including Spencer.

“Then why were you unconscious on the balcony of your apartment?”

“Because i haven’t been taking my pills! look, i haven’t for years now and i was fine. It was just rush of emotions, and i got overwhelmed okay? doesn’t mean i was going to jump. Believe me thats the last thing i would’ve wanted.” The last bit was a whisper, indicating the raw pain behind it. It was the truth, moments before you passed out you were thinking of Spencer, of how he’s your savior.

“Okay, Agent. We believe you, now why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll have you prescribed for something stronger, meanwhile i’m going to take the cuffs off” The doctor replied gently, except you know he’s not a doctor well he is but he’s a psychiatrist. Great, now everyone think she’s crazy.

——————

After the incident, you rarely talked to anyone on your team not because they don’t want to but because you won’t let them. You’ve caused enough pain, so the last thing you want to see is the pity on their eyes and face, it was nice seeing how they care though— sometimes in the mornings you can hear Garcia and JJ dropping new baskets full of goodies and treats for you to try. Sliding a note underneath your door before leaving.

Hotch insisted you to take a month break, which you would’ve tried to argued but you knew you didn’t stand a single chance. You could’ve lose your job, he could’ve fired you for lying about your psychological problems and endangering yourself but he didn’t, though he wanted you to take the break, and do another psych eval, so you agreed.

The bad thing about not going to work, except the obvious fact that you miss your work family and you missed out on catching men women alike your father and his killer— is not seeing Spencer often enough. It made you anxious just thinking how he’s doing constantly, Prentiss has said in a text that ‘he seems okay, just a little off’ in which you ended the conversation quickly, not wanting to let invasive questions spring up to life.

You’ve tried to contact him multiple times, yet he never answered the calls, there was one time where he had responded your text; it was the one after you told him that you haven’t eaten and taken your meds because thats what you do now, pretending like he actually listens you, that day you heard a knock, before finding out that there was a box of pizza; the tuna, with creamy mushroom kind, your favorite. Spencer is the only one who knew about it, so it was him. You cried that night knowing that he was close... yet you didn’t see him.

After that, nothing. Nothing at all, until it was your 17th day isolated in your apartment trying to get better. A therapist from FBI was supposed to come today, checking up on you, Hotch’s order. So when you heard a knock, you opened the door without looking.

“Y/N...”

“Hi you must be the— Spencer?” You eyes went wide as you recognized the person standing at your door, you swear your knees buckled finally seeing him again after so long. His hair seemed longer, his eyes has bags under them, he doesn’t look fine.

“Spencer, you look—“

“Can i come in?” His voice startled you, it was deep, deeper than you remembered it last.

“Yes, yes please come in..” You watched him enter your house, eyes scanning through every bit of everything, probably profiling your condition. So you let out a chuckle as you close the door, “I’m fine Spencer, unless you didn’t notice, i’m doing therapy 3 times a week plus routine visits from every therapist in town it seemed like. So i’m good” the tone of your voice reflects sarcasm and you know it, but how can you help it when he wont even look at you.

“Thats good..” He mumbled, sitting down on the couch where you two talked the last time about your past, you remembered that night’s event so clearly you could’ve sworn you have an eidetic memory. “You haven’t been sleeping have you?”

“no.” you sat down next to him, deciding that you shouldn’t touch him even if you wanted to.

“Why?”

“Because i worry about you.”

“Spencer, i told you i’m—“

“No! no you can’t say that you’re fine, again. do you know what you did me? after the night we had, you basically suffered an anxiety so bad you collapsed on your balcony, while whispering my name. You don’t get to say that you’re fine, i deserve more Y/N.”

You didn’t flinched even once when you heard his voice raised, if anything you just close your eyes and not let the volume of his voice get inside your head, “Everyone who yells is the same like your father, wake the fuck up” is what your mind been telling you but you refused to listen to it, Spencer is good, he’s a good man. So you controlled your breathing for a second before opening your eyes to see Spencer’s face begging for answers.

“You’re right, you deserve answers and you’ll get your answers but can you please listen to me and don’t interrupt? Spencer, i need the space if you want me to tell you, the space to make you understand.” Your palm move on top of his to see his reaction, you expected him to swat your hands away or at least flinched but strangely he let out a pleasant sigh, like he was relieved, like every weight has been lifted off of him.

“Okay, i’m sorry for—“

You cut him off before he could say what he’s sorry for, you don’t need it— his reactions are normal, too normal that it makes you fall in love with him over and over again. “Shh, don’t. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to respond, just.. wait here, i’ll tell you everything okay..?”

With a nod you get from him, you stand up to make two chamomile teas, bringing it to where Spencer is sitting on the couch, then after you put on Gymnopédie on your record player, you sit down next to him. To your surprise, he leaned and laid his head on top of your thighs, curling up on the couch— which sent a smile to your face, you haven’t smiled for so long and of course Spencer Reid is the one who put your first smile since.. you don’t even remember when.

————

“It’s one of my favorite, I love the serenity of it.” You whispered, as your fingers ran through his soft hair. Relaxing your back against the couch and enjoying the tune of one of your favorite classical of all time. Spencer smiled at that, you swore the smile could lit your insides like nothing else.

“I’m a beethoven guy, but i guess Satie is alright..” He laughs, his laugh sounded like heaven, his smile and laugh makes you dizzy. This is the Spencer that makes your heart pound ten times faster, and the one that makes you lost for words each time, the one that you’ll love... too fast Y/N, too fast.

“Of course you are, it’s not hard to see..”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Spencer looked up at you, he looked so pure like this, like he was made to justify every wrong things that has been done, like he’s an angel that protects the earth from filth. He’s pure and tender, it takes all of your willpower to not lean down and kiss him.

“Oh yes, explanation.” You laughed awkwardly, eyes refusing to meet his. “Look at me, please” You shake your head at his demand, your eyes still trailing to where the record player is going.

“Look at me, Y/N.” You did, you looked. Under any other circumstances, the authoritative tone would instantly leave you dripping wet ready to submit to him. But this time, you only whimpered and nods.

“Good girl, now tell me” He cupped your cheeks, the gentle gesture sent you to oblivion.

“I don’t know where to start..”

“I heard the beginning is a great start.” His lips tugged into a wide smile, you heart warmed at the sight before you sigh, your fingers still curling and uncurling itself on his hair.

“I opened up to you that night, it’s something strange for me, i told you something that i swore i would never tell anyone, but i told you because.. because you were right, you are right Spencer. And i guess after that we took it to a whole new different level, i want to be able to do all the things with you and cross all boundaries but it’s something new to me, so that morning when i... woke up alone, it was scary, i felt so small and sad in such a big space. I was overwhelmed, by the thought of letting another person in, i don’t wanna take it slow but then again the transition won’t be easy for me.” Spencer opened his mouth as he was about to say something, but you simply leaned in shakily and press a quick peck on his lips as a sign that you’re not done yet, to your surprise he pulled you down one more time and let the kiss linger this time before letting you pull back, whispering a small “go on.”

“I lived in isolation most of my life, the only taste of real life emotions i ever got was the moment right after my graduation. The man who saved me, he teached me social skills, and the basics of.. of having this gift of rawness emotions. But i’ve been so closed off, i realized its just not possible for me to fall in love or feel such a strong emotion towards another, the only strong emotion i’ve ever known before this was.. hatred towards my father and his killer.

I had PTSD when i was 13, consistent with severe anxiety and depression, at one point Mr.Bones insisted that i...i started talking to myself, admitted me to a psychiatrist where i got my.. antipsychotics for um the voices. But i came out well, and he promised me that if i was able to make it, he would change my identity, stripped me out of my old misery, give me a new one, my father was a very very important man where he worked, so does his men including Mr.Bones. Thats why before i was 21, there’s no record of Y/N Bones existed because.. i didn’t, i never existed.”

Y/N ended it with a smile, looking down at Spencer whose eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, her trembling fingers wiping the traces of tears. “Hey no no, please don’t cry, please it’s hurt to see you cry..” She whimpered.

“Spencer please say something..” Her eyes pleaded with her, as he sat up, before inching closer to her and before she even processed the warmth of his body, his lips pressed themselves against hers in a gentle loving way. His thumb stroking her soft supple cheek, as his lips took its time to explore every inch of hers, imprinting how it feels so he can remember it all the time. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he guided her to his lap, pulling back a little.

They stared at each other for such a long time, before Spencer move his hand downward— tugging on her shirt. “Do you want to?” His voice rise your goosebumps to wake, all the adrenaline rushing through your core as you nod eagerly. “Please”

——————

“Tchaikovsky.”

“what?”

“This is tchaikovsky.” Spencer looked up at her, seeing how needy but beautiful she is, her skin glistening under the dim lights, her lashes are wet, her eyes glassy, and her lips bitten raw. He smiled admiring her before continuing his exploration down her labia, stroking it gently— almost like he’s teasing her.

“yes Spencer this is, Oh god!” you stopped mid-sentence as you felt the warmth of his tongue exploring from her slit up to her clit, flicking the sensitive button gently— Holy mother! doesn’t he know how sensitive she is?

“I’m pretty sure Tchaikovsky isn’t god, Princess.” the doctor giggles as his fingers tracing her tummy gently, caressing every mark every curve every indent every scar so so gently to show her how much he appreciates her, appreciate her beauty— all of it.

“Shut up!” She whined and shuddered as she feels him burying his face against her sensitive pussy, tongue swiping side to side at her slit as his nose bumps against her clit sending intense pleasure throughout her body making her jolt and convulse as she tug on his hair.

“Are you sure that’s wise, princess? i’m the one in charge of your orgasm here” Her legs quivered, his tongue push inside her and explore every inch of her inside— moaning at the taste and catching every drop.

“Sorry! so sorry Spencer, just don’t stop!” Oh how sweet is that, her voice cracked at the end, meaning he’s doing a good job. And the boy wonder does seek for praises sometimes.

“Never planning on it, love.” He mumbled against her pussy before inserting two fingers in, and moving them in a brutal pace whilst her tongue and lips sucking on her clit.

“Oh! Spencer, you’re so good at this” Her eyes shut tightly, as her fingers gripping his hair— she’s practically grinding against his face which he moaned at the sight and taste of her, oh so heavenly.

“C’mon Princess, come for me then i will give you what you’ve been waiting for” oh the way she clenched around her fingers so tightly, made him groaned and shut his eyes tight as he works her over the orgasm

“Spencer! oh! thank you!” Every inch of her skin was burning and her brain was mush. So much pleasure, that she could die happily now. Her body shivers still, when he comes up to leave tiny kisses on her face. “Good girl.” Spencer then align himself at her entrance, sliding the tip up and down her pussy.

“Ready, princess?”

“Yes.. yes please?” With a smile on his face, Spencer bent Y/N’s knees before pushing the tip of his cock inside of her slowly, indulging in the velvety warm walls that welcomed his cock. The feeling is like home. Her mouth agape, as her eyes roll at the back of her head, and her fingers intertwined with his.

He stilled inside her for awhile as he let out grunts of how “so warm and tight, pet” she is. He then leaned down to press a gentle loving kiss on her lips before thrusting his cock in and out of her slowly, keeping the pace light as they both relinquish all the frustrations out, and indulging in each other’s warmth. It’s perfect.

“so— full, Spencer..” Her desperate whimpers was the one that egged him to move faster, thrusting his hips so every-time he thrusted in, the sounds were slapping of skins and their moans. But when one particular deep thrust, her cunt involuntary clenched around his cock and she screamed “Thats it! thats it fuck!”

Spencer grinned, before letting go of her hand to grip her waist, pulling her closer to him then continue to fuck her with a torturous brutal pace, hitting the spot over and over again. “I’m not going to last if you keep- fucking clenching that tight cunt Y/N” He warned, eyes glinting with a dangerous look like how he was that night. Feral.

Strings of plea left her mouth as she arched her back, he was so deep— filling her to the brim and making her feel good.

“Please cum inside me!”

“I will baby, i will. But first you gotta cum alright? can you do that? i know you can, c’mon” His breathing labored as he move even faster, her headboard banged against the wall, and her body bounced. With one final deep thrust, they reached their peak, and shuddered at the feeling. Spencer pulls out before grabbing a wet cloth from the beside table and carefully wiped her sensitive areas, causing goosebumps that were dying down to rise again.

“Swan lake” Was the first thing she muttered as her legs still quivering, Spencer looked up at her confusedly as he set throw the cloth to the dirty hamper and laid down beside her once more, cuddling her to his side.

“What?” he asked, his fingers running through her hair.

“Tchaikovsky’s, Swan lake was playing.” They both laughed at her answer, shaking their heads. It wasn’t until Y/N’s eyes flickered to his hazy ones, that they muttered it together,

“I love you—“

“I love you—“

———————

TBC!

As always, TAGLIST is open, blurb requests are also open any genre of course, send them in along with suggestions and/or constructive criticisms! thank you. Just message me or send me an ask :) thank you for supporting. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD, the TAGS DOESNT WORK TUMBLR IS MEAN TO ME AGAIN❤️

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

[just-char]

5. Can I request Percy's POV for the opening scene in Chapter 2 of Homeward, where Ramsey has dinner with Percy and Molly? Or would doing so spoil the dramatic effect of later on? The scene is so well-written I feel the other POV isn't needed to understand what's going on, but it would be fun to read nonetheless. :)

Good evening. A fantastic request! I am a very slow writer, but here is the scene in full in Percy's POV. You will notice it is nearly twice as long due to the wordy and rambling nature of Percy's existence (and hence, one of the reasons Homeward is from Ramsey's point of view) and also that it is very much unedited. It was fun to explore the conversation Percy has on the phone with her mother (during which I believe you will cringe several times at both of their lack of tact and general ineptness. ) It is sort of not canon as the phone call lasts a little bit longer than it does in the actual story, but I love Liz and Arthur too much to not have fun with them when I can. Story: Homeward Word Count: 4,045

Ramsey, Percy had noticed, was over for dinner more often recently. She did not mind this. Quite the opposite. She often struggled with portion sizes when cooking now that she had to cook for more than one person (somehow, simply doubling the amount she used to make never worked out like it mathematically should have) and there was always enough to feed him. He also made for good company for Molly, who Percy suspected, despite how quiet she could be around others, loved having him over for the noise and excitement he brought to the usually quiet apartment. It was important for her to have good adult role models, and the imperfect Ramsey who was trying to make up for his difficult past was, in her opinion, a much better fit than the rambunctious Giovanni, whose moral code was vague at best and dangerous at worst. Also, admittedly, she simply liked him around, which was probably reason enough. So, no, she most certainly didn’t mind that he came over more often and would stay for dinner. It was something friends did, she was sure. Well, she was almost sure.

Today, he especially had a good reason to come over. Molly’s bedroom had been irking her lately. Percy was perfectly capable of painting walls– in fact, she was excellent at painting walls– but she was not an artist, and it was a strict difference. Although she could quite easily and quite neatly paint a green coat, or even perhaps some sort of dual coloured coat, given the proper masking tape, she could not paint bears. Molly’s old bedroom, she had noticed the only time she’d been in it, had bears on the wall. Teddy bears, specifically. And given that Molly was nearing adolescence, Percy wanted to take full advantage of the age where she would still enjoy such frivolous things and recreate them. Ramsey was also very idle, she found. When he was not working, he was drawing or sleeping from what she could gather (the latter much more so than the former) and it seemed to be putting a ‘dampener’ on his mood. Paying him to paint Molly’s bedroom (with her assistance, of course) seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Not that she would ever hurt a bird, of course. Well, not unless it was a dangerous individual that had to be taken care of. Perhaps she wouldn’t think about it anymore.

The spaghetti was a little salty. She hoped neither of them minded. It sort of reminded her of buttered noodles, which she mostly knew as a childhood treat (emphasis on treat, they were certainly not good for her) and as such she didn’t dislike the taste, but still. “Thanks again for painting my room, Mr Murdoch.” As Percy scrutinized her plate, Molly had taken to thanking Ramsey for his work. She was a very polite young girl. Very admirable. It was incredible how well-raised she was, all things considered, but Percy thought that simply spoke to how wonderful Molly was, and was not reflective of anything her father did for her.

Ramsey waved her gratitude off humbly. “Eh, it wasn’t nothing. S’nice to get out of the old apartment anyway.”

Percy chose to ignore his double negative. It was confusing, but he did it a lot and she’d managed to get used to it. She did not understand why he found it difficult to accept thanks, however. She quickly patted her mouth with her napkin (dinner etiquette was very important) so she could show her shared appreciation. “Whether it was nothing or not, we appreciate your effort.” Of course, she knew it probably was nothing to him. After all, he was an artist of very high caliber. But that didn’t change the fact he had put time and energy into doing it.

Instead of accepting her thanks, once more Ramsey chose to deflect, pointing his fork at her. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you couldn’t do it yourself.” Before Percy could debate this, however, Ramsey decided to go for two blows. He leaned in towards Molly, “Percy can’t draw for snacks,” and Molly found this funny enough. Percy watched them with interest, and then they turned and watched her with interest. Ah. Right. She was supposed to respond to that with something equally clever yet jocund, as was expected. “It’s true, I am no artist. However, I am also not a con-artist.” She didn’t quite understand what was so funny about two people mocking each other repeatedly, but Molly seemed to find it humorous and it was all very lighthearted so she decidedly went along with it (though she found her own wit was much better suited for one-line statements than battles of insults.)

Molly gasped and covered her mouth. Presumably, this was jokingly. Percy doubted what she said was all that bad. “She’s got you there, Mr Murdoch. Are you just gonna take that?”

Ramsey seemed pleased with himself. “Oh, was that supposed to be a burn?” He took a moment to think, “Heh, well, I may be a criminal, but at least I’m not a nerd.” Molly made noises with her mouth that Percy couldn’t quite decipher as she frowned. She never quite understood the word as an insult, after all, “There is nothing laughable about being well-educated.”

Ramsey apparently took her defensive statement as his victory. “Oh, I see,” he said casually, “So you can give it, but ya can’t take it, huh?”

“I can take you back to prison, Ramsey,” Percy blurted out. Oh. She had not even thought about it before saying it. Ramsey seemed equally surprised, coughing on the spaghetti in his mouth as Molly laughed. Admittedly, it felt good to be in on the joke. She smiled at him to clarify no ill will and he looked bashfully back down at his plate. She took it that this meant she had won, for once. Excellent.

Suddenly, Ramsey recovered from his defeat and looked up. “You excited to go to Marchpoint for Christmas, Molly?”

Molly beamed. “Sure! Marchpoint is really pretty, and Percy’s parents are really nice.” It was reassuring to know that Molly truly did enjoy visiting them– her parents had… overwhelming and very different reactions to the prospect of her adopting a child, and for a little bit Percy was very worried that they would make Molly uncomfortable, or perhaps regardless Molly simply wouldn’t like them. Alas, it worked out the complete opposite. Percy hesitated to use the word ‘obsessed’, but her parents were most certainly passionate in their approach to Molly in a way she wasn’t expecting. Well, her father she should have expected, but her mother? It really did go to show how the people you love can always surprise you.

Ramsey, meanwhile, seemed content to speculate about her hometown’s nature. “Heh, sounds like one a those little fancy holiday towns.” Admittedly, he was not entirely wrong. He had good sense about those kinds of things, Percy supposed. “Marchpoint,” he repeated, scratching his goatee. Very idly, Percy wondered what it felt like.

“It’s pretty fancy! Percy’s parents live in one of those big country homes with a porch and huge backyard, and all the little town shops look like they’re from the sixties. It’s so much quieter than the city.” She could not grow a beard herself, but she remembered how her father’s felt whenever he shaved it. Textured, bristly. Ramsey’s face fell. “What’d I do? I got something on me?” He looked down at his shirt to check. Hm. Apparently, she had been staring. And also not listening, as she couldn’t seem to remember what it was they had been talking about. She decidedly corrected both of those ‘faux pas’s.

“My apologies. I was…” She did not want him to feel self-conscious, “... lost in thought. What were we speaking about?”

Ramsey smiled at her cheekily. “Talkin’ about your fancy pants hometown, Sparky.”

“Ah, yes.” How could she have forgotten? “Marchpoint certainly has its charms. However, I prefer to be in the city where I am needed.” She frowned, thinking about just how useless she’d be somewhere so quiet. “Indeed, such a sleepy town has no need for my unforgiving sense of justice.”

Molly lifted some spaghetti in her fork. “It’s nice for the holidays though!”

“Justice doesn’t take holidays,” Percy reminded her seriously.

“Alright, Judge Judy, let’s not bring work to the table,” Ramsey scolded her. Percy wasn’t quite sure who Judge Judy was, but she had to admit he was right. She went back to eating her spaghetti.

Molly looked at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays, Mr Murdoch?”

Ramsey, from what Percy could tell, was not expecting to be asked this question. Percy realized she wasn’t sure what he was doing herself. “Me? Uh, nothin’, kid.” Had she never asked him? Ah. Shoot. She hadn’t. She’d try to remember to do that next year. “My family’s too far away and small to bother visiting every year. I like to keep it to myself.” Percy couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t do the same if Marchpoint was further away, but it surprised her that Ramsey, given his sensitive nature, would feel similarly.

“How practical!”

Molly did not seem as pleased with this as she was. “That’s sad, Mr Murdoch. Don’t you want to be around people during the holidays?”

Hm. Molly offered an interesting point. Ramsey was prone to bouts of loneliness. She watched him carefully as he attempted to shrug off the question. “Nah, I’m good. Not too into heavily commercialised stuff. Just another day off to me.” Percy was always the best with conversations but she was certainly familiar with interrogations and she liked to think she knew a lie when she saw one. Such a lackadaisy approach to such an important time seemed so unlike him.

“While I usually like to respect the wishes of others, I would not like to think of you spending this time alone, Ramsey. The holidays are a chance to reconnect and spend time with the people you love and care about. They are not, as you say, just ‘another day off.’”

Ramsey frowned at her, but Molly spoke first. “You should come with us to Marchpoint! I’m sure no one would mind.” Hm. Huh. Percy blinked. And then she blinked again, because for some reason the first blink hadn’t cleared her mind. She could feel her eyebrows furrowing as her brain went over the statement. Ramsey. At her family home. Staying with them. For the holidays. In Marchpoint. With her parents. She couldn’t even picture it. Molly’s quiet voice broke her out of her stupor. “Uhm, would that be okay, Percy?”

Percy gave blinking one last try to see if it would work. She’d have to give an answer– that was how questions worked. One person asks a question and the other answers, unless the question is rhetorical or sarcastic, something that was clarified by tone indicators. Molly’s question was neither, so she had to answer it. Would it be okay? Well, she’d have to ask her mother. Yes. That was the answer. She’d have to ask. “I’d have to call Mother,” she said, and then quickly to reassure them both, “But I don’t see why not.” Smile. Yes. That was a good idea– smiling made people more comfortable. She was nailing this.

Ramsey seemed upset. She was not nailing this. “Look, I don’t wanna be burdenin’ a buncha strangers all out of pity–” Well, that was simply ridiculous. “Ramsey,” she interrupted him, “would you like to come?” She waited expectantly.

He stared back at her. “I guess. I mean, if the food’s free.” A jest, she assumed, based on the wink. “But I don’t wanna come if I’m just gonna be in the way is all.” Hm. Well, she wouldn’t force him if he believed he would be out of place.

“I understand, Mr Murdoch,” Molly reassured him quietly, “I just thought it’d be nice to have another person I’m really comfortable around going to meet so many new people… But if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” She smiled at him. Hm. Percy hadn’t even thought about that. Molly was quite shy, and while her family wasn’t large by any means, they were quite loud, even for Percy sometimes.

Ramsey put both of his hands up as though he was showing he had no weapons. “Alright, alright! I’ll come if I’m able, just stop lookin’ at me with those big ole puppy dog eyes. Geez, I can’t stand it.” Oh, that was good. Ack, but it was so soon– she’d call her mother now, just in case. Her mother wasn’t fond of late changes to plans. Percy pulled her phone out of her pocket. If only they’d come up with this last week.

“Excuse me,” she said as she stood up, not wishing to neglect her table manners. The phone stopped ringing and her mother’s voice replaced the sound.

“Hello?”

“Hello, mother.” Percy looked over to the door to the hall. Perhaps this was a conversation best had in private.

“Hello, Percival.” Her mother paused. “Lovely evening.”

As Percy made her way to the hall she glanced out the window. The sky was clear. “Why, yes, it is a lovely evening.” There was a small pause as Percy closed the door behind her and walked to her bedroom. She didn’t particularly like phone calls. Well, she didn’t hate them, but she most certainly found them more difficult than a simple face-to-face conversation or a quick text.

“Why are you calling during dinner?” her mother asked gruffy.

Oh, had she been waiting for her to speak? See, if they had been face-to-face, that would have been more obvious. “Ah, yes. About Molly and I staying over–”

“What, you’re not coming anymore?”

Percy glanced at the phone in surprise. “What?”

“Is that Percy? Is she not coming?” she heard her father say in the background. Oh, dear.

“Arthur, I’m on the phone,” her mother snapped at him.

Her father did not seem to notice. “If it’s Percy, tell her I said hello, and that I’d be very disappointed if she and Molly weren’t coming up!” “Yeah, yeah.” There was a sigh. “He says hello. And that you better be coming up. ”

Percy nodded as though they could see her. “We’re still coming.” “They’re still coming, Arthur,” It sounded as though her mother had covered the mic, and then like she had taken her hand off of it again. “Okay, so then, what are you calling for?”

Percy idly placed her hand on the cool frame of her bed. “It’s just, well, I have this friend–” “You do?” She sounded surprised. Had Percy never mentioned Ramsey to her before?

“Yes.” No, she hadn’t, she realised. Odd.

“Alright, well, what about this friend?”

“He–”

“He doesn’t need money, does he?”

“What? Uhm, no, mother. He doesn’t need…” Percy paused, “Well, I don’t believe he needs money. I suppose he could.” It was certainly possible. Ramsey had obviously gotten in with bad crowds before and old habits did not die easy. It was entirely in the realm of plausibility that he had gone out and gotten into money trouble– or, alternatively, an old mistake had come back to haunt him despite his current good nature.

“Well, did he ask you for money?”

“Hm?” She’d almost forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh, no. No, he didn’t.”

“Good. None of your business then.” Ah, her mother was correct. It was rude of her to speculate like that.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“... Percival.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you calling me.”

“Oh, right.” She almost forgot what she’d called about. Her mother had that effect on people. “Yes. Well, this friend–” “Oh! Ask her if it’s Ramsey.” Ah. Her father again.

Her mother sounded mostly confused, and a little irritated. “Who?”

“Ramsey! Her friend, is it Ramsey?” Percy found herself rubbing the frame. Smooth, glossy wood. It felt nice.

“For god’s sake– Percival, your father wants to know if it’s... Ramsey.”

“Ah, tell him yes, it is.” “It is.” The mic muffled again. “Oh! Is he alright?” “Arthur, getting this conversation to end is like trying to get blood out of a rock and you’re making it harder–” “Alright, alright! Don’t raise your voice, Liz.” Her mother audibly groaned. “Did you at least tell her I said hello?” “I already told her! Just be quiet and eat your roast beef, you big lug.” A pause. “Are you still there Percival?” “Yes.”

“Alright. Tell you what, because my dinner is getting cold and this phone call is driving me to the edge. You have three sentences to tell me what’s wrong or I’m hanging up. Go.”

“Oh, er. Well–” “That was one. You have two now.”

Shoot. Percy took a moment to think about the clearest and most direct two sentences possible. “My friend Ramsey has nowhere to go for the holidays,” she said slowly, “Could he stay with us?”

“Oh, is that it?” Percy wasn’t the best judge of tone but her mother almost sounded disappointed. There was another pause, slightly longer than any of the ones before, as though she was taking this information in. “Hm,” she said finally, “He from the streets?” Percy thought of Ramsey’s little apartment. “No.” “He dangerous? Violent? Crazy?” “No.” Ramsey wasn’t any of those things even when he was a criminal. She’d begin to make her way back to the kitchen, given that the conversation was nearing it’s close.

“Drat. Well, whatever. Sure, sure. He can come.”

Percy opened the door to the hall and closed it behind her. “Thank you,” she said quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, well. I’m not a fiend, Percival. Besides, house won’t be full anyway. You know your uncle isn’t coming up this year, don’t you?” She walked into the kitchen, where Ramsey and Molly still sat at the table.

“Yes. I know.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Son finally decides to come home and then it’s all about staying local after coming up the twenty-five years– s’not like we don’t have room for his brat either. That uncle of yours is a strange man.”

“Indeed.”

“Anyway. Get lost so I can eat.” There was a slight pause. “Love ya.” Percy smiled pleasantly. “Goodbye.”

The phone clicked. Her mother had hung up. She glanced up to her company (she hadn’t realized it, but apparently she had been staring at the floor the whole time) and they stared back at her eagerly.

Molly leaned forward. “What’d she say?” Their plates were empty– they must’ve finished eating.

Percy hummed, trying to replay the conversation. “Well, first she said ‘Hello.’ Then, ‘It’s a lovely evening.’ Then, ‘Why are you calling during dinner?’ Then–”

“I think she meant, what’s the verdict, chief?” Ramsey said quickly. He looked very pink. “Er, am I coming or going?”

Ah, there he went again with his nonsensical word choice. Percy rubbed her chin. “Both options you’ve given me suggest you are allowed. Which do I pick if you’re not?”

Molly groaned. “Percy...”

“My apologies.” Perhaps she was poking too much fun. “You may come, Ramsey.” He seemed appropriately relieved.

“Yes!” Molly exclaimed, and then, in a fit of excitement that was completely unexpected, jumped up to embrace her. Percy could not hide her surprise as her small arms squeezed her. Still, she smiled, wrapping one arm around her ward and using the other to give her a small pat on the head. “Thanks Percy.” The sound rippled through her shirt. It felt very nice.

“Of course.” Hm. What time was it? Molly always did her homework at eight. Percy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do you have homework to do?”

“Ack!” Molly suddenly let go and raced to her room. Percy watched her go. She was a very kind child. It was lovely how much she cared for Ramsey. It only just occurred to her that perhaps Molly was not entirely selfish in her want for him to be there. Percy just felt privileged to know her, sometimes. It felt silly, given Molly’s age, but it was true.

Speaking of Ramsey, he stood up from the table and Percy looked over to him. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Perc’,” he said softly, “You really didn’t have to.”

Percy smiled at him. He was very sweet for a reformed criminal. She could appreciate that this was probably very difficult for him. Ah, she should reassure him of his use. “I think your presence will be good for her. It can be quite overwhelming meeting new people, especially for children.”

He simply shrugged. “Eh, maybe.” He glanced towards the door to the hall and back at her. “I guess I’d better get going.”

It was always a shame to see him go, but he had his own business to get to. Expecting him to stay forever would be selfish and immature, and Percy was neither of these things when she could fight it. “Of course. Thank you for joining us, Ramsey. It’s always a pleasure.” She started collecting the plates from dinner. She’d wash them now. She didn’t like leaving dishes in the sink.

Ramsey did not leave. Instead, he took the plates from her hands and grinned at her. “Heh, yeah, well, that’s me. I’m pretty great company,” he said as he brought them to the sink. He smirked then, putting a finger to his cheek. “And I’m pretty too.”

While he did that, she made her way to the drawer to get her rubber gloves. Her aunt always said washing dishes without them made your hands dry, though, if Percy were being honest, she never really thought about why she wore them. Habit.

“Very,” she said to entertain him. “Thank you very much for your assistance.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Percy blinked and looked over at him. He wiggled his eyebrows (provocatively?) Hm.

She looked away, clearing her throat and pulling on her gloves. “How is the apartment treating you, Ramsey?” She turned the tap to run the warm water. As Ramsey spoke, she grabbed the washing up liquid.

He was leaning against the counter. “Fine. Kinda small.” He shrugged at her. “I like the TV. Free cable.”

Percy smiled, procuring a sponge from a dish beside the sink. “I’m glad it’s to your liking. Perhaps if you keep working hard, you will be able to move somewhere bigger.” She started cleaning the dishes. Pasta luckily did not stain, and it did not take long to clean three plates. When she got to the last one, she glanced over at him again. He was… still not leaving. How did she approach that? On one hand, she didn’t want him to feel like he had to leave, because he did not. On the other, she couldn’t simply say nothing, either. After all, he’d said he was leaving. Perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something? She rinsed the plate off and stuck it in the drying rack with the others. Ramsey glanced at her and she cleared her throat. “Well,” she started, “There is no point prolonging the inevitable.”

He pushed off the counter. “Yeah. Thanks again for dinner, and, uh,” he coughed, “Bringing me along for the holidays.” Percy smiled at him.

“Goodbye, Ramsey. Until tomorrow.” She turned back to the sink and began taking off her gloves, but he didn’t leave. Should she say something? Maybe he truly wasn’t alright. “Are you not leaving?” Ah, now that she said it, perhaps that was a little blunt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just, uh..." he looked at her desperately but she did not know what to say. "Right, uh, seeya.” He gave her a little wave and she returned it, but as he left Percy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for her lacking approach. She should’ve asked if he was okay, maybe even if he wanted to stay a little longer, talk about something. She knew he didn’t particularly like being alone– perhaps going home was hard for him? Ah. Friendship was difficult and unfamiliar territory. She knew he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve been, but she didn’t want to freak him out by pushing him too hard.

Well. One thing at a time.

[emiken-070907]

Since I realized it's going to take me some time to get to the point of my fic to actually introduce my OC's, I'm just going to do that here now!

I'm also going to name some canon characters (e.g. Che'nya) and will explain their positions in the fic and how I think their personalities are.

Wondorsmore is the dorm founded on the curiosity of the Young Explorer. They are housed in a deformed, very colourful house with a gigantic garden and maze. Gem colour is blue.

Alicynthia Fantasmore (Alice): A light headed 2nd year student and the dorm leader of the dorm. She's a very kindhearted girl who loves tea time, baked sweets and croquet. Mostly everyone calls her Ali-chan, since her actual name is rather hard to pronounce for others. Nobody knows how she got the title 'dorm leader', because she daydreams a lot and gets distracted very easily. She has terrible orientation and will even get lost on an open field. Her mother handles all trading between the Rose Kingdom and the other lands, for which she respects her very deeply and hopes that she'll be able to handle such responsibilities one day.

Che'nya/Alchemi Alchemivichi Pinka (Cheshire Cat): The vice leader and one of Ali-chan's personal 'caretakers' and advisor. She's very aware of her responsibilities but necklaces them most of the time by napping or pranking other students, and loves to speak in riddles and confuse others. She has an immense fear of dogs, since one nearly bit her hand of when she was a child.

Marriposa Fafelyna (Caterpillar): Jokingly gets called the 'Second Vice of Wondorsmore'. Also Ali-chan's caretaker #2, but she's more of an motherly figure than Che'nya, who's more of an aunt. The 3rd year is kind of strict, but means it well, and has a lot of patience for others. She's hungry 24/7 and very tall. She also pupates up when she is faalls asleep. Smokes, but is not allowed to in any closed room or building, that's why she's mostly in the garden. Che'nya's roommate.

Arley Blanca (White Rabbit): A curious 1st year with a terrible sense of time. That's why she has a lot of clocks. Her father even runs a clock shop and got tought on how to build and repair clocks and watches. Her whole site of her shared room is full with clocks. Naturally, when ever it's a full hour, it's get very loud, which doesn't bother her, since she's used to it, even though she has very sensitive ears. She is allowed to do that, because she is alone in the four-person room.

Sunizwe is the dorm founded on the leadership of the Lion King. The members live in a big wood house, which has many plants and veins growing along it's sides, in the Savanna jungle. It has no roof unless it's raining and wild animals can't get near the dorm. Gem colour is topaz yellow.

Rainona Adolpha (Little Red Riding Hood): A 3nd year girl from the Land of Pyroxene as dorm leader in the middle of the Savanna, surrounded by beastmen. She's way mor robust than she looks. Never seen without her red hood/cape.

Zywie Najyba (Rafiki): Vice leader and 'doctor' of the dorm/school. Comes from a family of doctors or medical related stuff, they also work for the Royal Family. So, of course, she knows a lot about medicine and how things are within the family. Also has exsperience as a shaman. The 3rd year is concidered the 'wises' in the dorm

Eventyhav is the dorm founded by the dedication of the Little Mermaid. The dorm members live in an old shipwreck underwater. Gem colour is aqua blue.

Rielle af Atlantica (Arielle): A 2nd year dormleader and the youngest princess of the 7 princesses of the coral sea. Always full of question and likes sticking her noise into things that aren't her business. She's super impressed by human culture. But she often misunderstands the use or meaning of things. For example, for some time she used a fork as a hairbrush. Her voice is incredible lovely and beautiful.

Fabienne Guppy (Flounder): The vice of the dorm and best friend of Rielle. She's very shy, sweet and easily flustered. She's afraid of many things, sharks being the Nr. 1. Rielle always tries (and being successful every time) to convince her to go with her on her 'adventures'. Rielle also mainly calls her 'Fabie'. She is very good with the oboe (and saxophone, to some degree) and often plays for the dorm members.

Amyrlas is the dorm founded on the intelligence of the Prince of Sands. They are housed in a tiger head shaped, gold and marble cave near an oases. The gem colour is turquis.

Jaseema Dha-Hab (Jasmine): Dormleader and the older twin of the Dha-Hab twins. She's one of Kalima's cousins, the stricter and more hot-tempered one. The 2nd year student cares deeply for her sister, but doesn't show it well. Like Kalima, both are very rich, and, surprisingly, the only children in the family. She's very aware of their advantages, and that her parents most likely payed for her and her sister's positions. So she decided to use the money she has to help others. She donates very often and always helps her dorm mates. Which makes her very busy and not being able to spend time with her sister. Back at home, she's stuck with her overprotective parents who forbid her and her sister to go outside without a guard. So she's very happy and grateful for the freedom RSA provides her.

Aliye Dha-Hab (Aladdin): The vice dorm leader and younger twin. She's very carefree, like Kalima, eventhough she knows what could happen to her. Because of that, she leaves her sister in constant worry. And she's very aware of that. The reason she doesn't stop that or doesn't stop causing trouble is that, this, in her eyes, is the only way to get her sisters attention. Even back at home she causes trouble. She often goes outside without permission. When she's outside she disguises herself with poor clothes so she'll blend in easier. She often takes things like food or similar with her to give it to the poor, or sells it so she can give the money to others. Sometimes she even steals things to give them. This is her own way of donating, besides giving money; Being there for them. She has a small hideout in an abandoned building. She even has a small monkey, named Hamai, as a pet/companion.

Ebenholz is the dorm founded on the kindness of the Fairest of Them All. The mebers live in little cottages in the woods near a smal mine. Gem colour is red.

Neige LeBlanche: Dorm leader and the beauty of the school. She's very busy due to her being a model and actress, but always manages to spend time with her dwarf friends. Is like a second mother to them, but can be a bit overbearing sometimes.

The Dwarves: 7 dwarves who are constantly at Neige's side. Often get mistaken as kids and/or siblings. Both claims are false. Come from a dwarf clan that's known for their handywork and multiple mines. All are very good at mining and sorting out gems from real and fake. Surprisingly strong, can lift 5 times the weight they have. Dominic is the 'oldest sister', being the most mature. Hop and Gran often get into friendly arguments. Shelpy mostly sleeps, but loves some drama at school and knows everything about it. Sneek has to deal with a lot of allergies and holds a strong dislike towards spring. She and Hop (aswell as Domi) are often 'mental support' for the ever so shy Timmy. Toby is the air-head and 'youngest sister'. Since a young age, she had trouble remebering things and also had trouble with correct speech.

Theoroas is the dorm founded on the strength of the Godly Hero. They are housed in an ancient Greek themed building with an arena attached to it. Gem colour is copper.

Ziana Thora (Zeus): The 3rd year dormleader of the dorm. She's very stoic and serious, always wearing an angry expression. Very respected and feared, even known as 'The Queen of Royal Sword Academy'. He obtained the title 'dorm leader' as a fist year, right in the first week by challenging the former leader and winning by a land slide. He also has a younger sister (Hercules), but doesn't want to acknowlage her as that. So their relationship is rather complicated. She's also the daughter of the head of the company 'Olympus'.

Pacifica Aquarius (Poseidon): Cousin of Ziana (and Idia) and vice dorm leader. A very bubbly and lightheaded girl. She often drives her cousin insane because she can be very annoying and intrusive. Often just called 'Percy' or 'Paz'. She's very found of the merfolk. Like Idia (and Ziana, technically), Pacifica is a noble aswell; A noble of the Coral Sea. Besides making Ziana often mad, she's also the one who keeps his temper in check.

Verrepantou is the dorm founded on the hope of the Hardworking Princesse. It's only a small dorm, but the members are housed in a simple house, which turns into an impressive palace at night. Gem colour is purple.

Aimée Trein (Cinderella): The sweet and kind dorm leader. She didn't see the need to declare a vice, since it's a small dorm. She also has not the best sence of time, especilly when it's near 12, regardless of am or pm. Overworks herself very often does chores for others out of pure kindness. Also has a big thing for shoes and has multiple wardrobes just for that. Step-daughter to Mozus Trein and has two older step-sisters. Lost her father at a young age.

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Spa Trip Daichi x reader

Words: 1.4k 

Warnings: A little steamy makeout at the end 

A/n: Guys I started this wayyy too late today and wanted to finish it but didn’t go back and proof read it so I am sorry but I really really like it though and I will try and fix things tomorrow but no promises 

You and Daichi didn’t get a ton of alone time together, you were both the type to work work work and then take little time for play so the two of you decided to go on a mini-vacation together to hopefully just spend some time relaxing. What you didn’t realize was the hotel/spa you chose for the weekend was also for kids. When you entered the spa and realized this your heart dropped, you wanted a big kid weekend with your man, you didn’t want to be surrounded by little kids running around and peeing in the pool. Daichi instantly understood your worry and instead of worrying himself he grabbed your hand and told you that everything was going to work out, the two fo you were going to have fun if you liked it or not. When you got to your room the first thing Daichi did was open the bottle of champagne that was sitting on the edge of your bead and poured each of you a glass. 

“Y/f/n y/l/n, I love you with my whole heart and I can’t wait to spend this wonderful weekend with you,” he toasts before taking a sip, smiling at you the whole time. You went to a wonderful couples massage that pulled every kink out of your neck and back before getting some much-needed shut-eye. The next morning you were awoken with little kisses on your forehead as Daichi squeezed you close to his chest. He was barely awake and his kisses were soft and frequently hitting different spots on your face because his eyes were still shut in hopes of falling back asleep. When you both finally got out of bed you had completely missed breakfast so you decided to have something light for a quick lunch before you went to a couples relaxation and yoga private event. The event was absolutely wonderful, you two were horrible at the yoga part but every time Daichi messed up he took you down with him in a fit of laughter. You then went back to the room and just relaxed with each other watching whatever dumb soap opera was on the TV while he rested his head in your lap. Neither of you paid any attention to what was on tv, it was just background noise as you paid attention to the other person. Daichi kept smiling at you and telling you how pretty you are and how lucky he is to have you and when he wasn’t he was grabbing your hand and kissing it or he was turning and kissing your thighs as you took time to relax. 

You quickly got bored of just sitting around because the two of you wanted to do things on your little vacation or you would feel like you wasted the weekend doing things you probably could have done at home. You decided that the pool would be an amazing idea, more like you looked out the window and saw that there was practically no one where you wanted to go so you practically threw Daichi off the couch so you could go swim. You threw on a cute bikini as you headed down the elevator and out to the elaborate set of pools enclosed inside of the hotel. You get giddy as you practically run to find the only set of open chairs along the side of the pool. You lay your towels down across the chairs as Daichi slowly makes his way over to you, clearly less impressed than you are. He helps you rub on sunscreen before you return the favor and the two of you go to get in the pool. Lucky for you the pool has an adults-only section that you head straight for. The adults-only really was just a hot tub and a lazy river that was gated off from the other pools. Immediately the two of you went for the hot tub, excited to sit back and relax, especially because you would be the only two in the hot tub. 

You climbed into the hot dub and sat right next to Daichi, your hands trailing to rest on his thighs as you leaned your head back and enjoyed the hot water bubbling against your skin. You were the most relaxed you’ve been in months, you kept trying to make time to relax but something had always come up and now this was the perfect way to get away and it was even better that you had Diachi at your side. 

“Incominggggggg,” you hear a little voice shout as the water splashes before you can even register the little voice. You shoot your eyes open and see his head pop up above the water as he lets out a little scream, you have no idea what was happening. Daichi shoots up from beside you and picks the little kid, who was at most four years old up and carries him out of the pool. You quickly follow behind, concerned about what has just happened. 

“Hey little buddy, are you okay? That water was pretty hot,” Daichi asks as he sets the little boy down, as he squats next to him, not letting go of his hand. 

The little boy is too shocked to answer but instead, he nods at Daichi and gives him a little smile. “Okay, buddy, what’s your name?” Daichi asks. 

“Jaden,” he answers nervously. 

“Okay Jaden, where are your parents,” Daichi asks in a calm voice, “you’re not in trouble buddy, I just want them to know where you are,” he smiles as the little boy lets out a sigh of relief. Jaden smiles and points to a woman cradling a newborn baby and identifies her as his mom. Daichi smiles and picks him up as he brings Jaden back to her. You trail behind but miss what Daichi said to his mother, but you know it went well by the happy hug she gave both Jaden and Daichi. Daichi comes back over to you with a cheeky smile on his face as he climbs back into the hot tub and pats the spot next to him. You have no idea how he just did that but he just looked so incredibly sexy. The way his wet hair stuck to his face and his muscles tensed as he patted the spot net to him made him look like a sort of god. That mixed with the fact that he was just the best man on the planet made him damn near irresistible, instead of sitting on the seat next to him, you sat straight on his lap and locked your hands in his hair as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. You wasted no time slipping your tongue past his lips as you deepened the kiss. Daichi took a second to process what had just happened but happily placed his hands on your butt and pushed your tongue out of his mouth and slipped his tongue in yours taking full control of the kiss. You felt him slowly getting hard against you causing you to let out a little gasp. Daichi smirked and pulled away from the kiss, “like what you see?” he smiled at you before kissing down your neck. You let out a little moan before his tongue was back in your mouth and his teeth were pulling at your lower lip. You couldn’t help but grind against his hardened member as you pulled at his hair. Daichi brought one hand up to the cup your breast as his other hand had completely grabbed your ass and was kneading it in his large hands. You Help him twitch beneath you as you ground down on his length again causing him to let out a little moan as he bit a mark onto your neck, licking and sucking the now sensitive spot to be dark enough you can’t hide it for the rest of the weekend and probably not for work on Monday. You pull his lips back into another kiss before he wraps his arms under your legs and slowly lifts the two of you up so that he is holding you up, never once breaking the kiss. He walks you both out of the hot tub and to your towels where he just pulls them over his shoulder and carries you back to the room.

[xenteaart]

Diplomacy Failure

Summary: The Master and you have an established friendship, a bromance - you’re basically partners in crime. One day the Master comes up with this grand robbery scheme but it takes him months to plan the whole thing out properly, and by the end of it - he’s getting way too impatient and reckless. That’s where you step in.

Warnings: none, pure fluff again

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Reader

Note: This was supposed to be a short thing so I decided not to create a whole ass backstory around it. The main reason why I wanted to write this was because I usually see MC being mostly submissive in fics (not that there’s anything wrong with it whatsoever) and I craved some diversity so here it goesss. 

Huge thanks and lots of love to my incredible beta @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ i love you to bits <3

The last few months have been hard to say the least. After years of knowing the Master you’d grown accustomed to his severe mood swings, but this was something else. 

Most of the time you never really bothered to get to know all the details of his typically complex and intricate schemes. You simply trusted him with those and did what he asked you to do, not taking any liberty to make your own decisions because he did know better. He was the one spending restless days and nights planning everything out after all, so you never really questioned anything. Until today. 

He was getting impatient and it wasn’t a good thing at all. 

The Master had an impressive set of skills, the ability to wait and execute slow-burn plans exceptionally well being one of them. However this time, he got way too invested in what he was doing, his near obsession leading you to believe it had something to do with the Doctor in the long run.

As for now, he needed to get his hands on something “very valuable and very important” and he was planning to steal it, of course. It was no common robbery though, the ship you were now finding yourselves on was huge. No, massive, so simply threatening a few creatures with his TCE and acquiring the object wasn’t a viable option. The ship’s obscenely advanced security systems were not working in your favor either.

The two of you were pretending to be a regular married couple, mere visitors to the event and so painfully ordinary in your nature as to not draw any attention. Keeping a low profile was essential.

The Master called from somewhere below the console where corridors led to the wardrobe room, and since you weren’t occupied with anything even remotely important you joined him right away. You were happy to merely see him and talk to him considering he now preferred the company of a thousand papers with all sorts of layouts, schemes, his own scribbles and something else in Gallifreyan that you had no way of understanding. 

“What’s that?” you asked, a little taken aback by his excessively fancy suit. 

“Your dress is right there, try it on and see if it fits,” he said casually as he looked in the mirror, ignoring your question and waving his hand at the sophisticated purple dress that was laid out on a nearby sofa. 

Ah. Matching outfits. He could never resist the drama of it.

You looked at the dress, the decoration on it exquisite and lavish. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you tried not to laugh too loudly.

“If that’s for tomorrow, we’re not wearing that.” you uttered, not even trying to hide your amused grin at this point.

“What? Why?”

“Because we need to be wearing this,” you pointed at a horrendous blue suit and a dress of the matching color, the shade and design of both so ugly and simplistic that the clothing wouldn’t look good on either of you. 

A displeased frown flitted across the Master’s features.

“Come on, we need to look pitiful. Men of wealth love playing charity and chatting with lower class people, helping them out with whatever. It makes them feel better about themselves, boosts their ego.” you elaborated, your words heavily accompanied by expressive hand waving and vocal shifts.

He blinked a couple of times and looked at himself in the mirror again, trying to make peace with the idea of this fashion crime you were both about to commit.

The first step of his plan was relatively easy - he was doing the networking and you were doing the smiling as the two of you were slowly getting closer and closer to higher rank guests that were usually a little too drunk and clueless to not accidentally give away the information you needed most, that being - where the security control room was located. Getting a sample of some rich and wasted guest’s DNA was also part of the job since they all had unlimited access to all parts of this ship. As of now, you were getting a feeling you were never even going to make it to that point. 

The Master wasn’t very good at tolerating stupidity, especially when nobody knew and feared who he was. To all of these arrogant and self-absorbed upper class assholes, he was literally a peasant. Little did they know. 

You could see his hand playing with the TCE in his pocket as he was seriously considering whether to take it out and end this shitshow here and now. That would probably feel really good for a couple of minutes but then both of you would be captured and very likely executed on the spot because no matter how intimidating and dangerous the Master was - the quantity of creatures on the ship would be an undeniable advantage on their side. Plus, he’d spent so much time on plan A, there wasn’t any room for plan B, you figured.

Granted, dying wasn’t something the Master was ever afraid of. But you were human with no spare lives, so his impatience would mean very bad news for you.

“Don’t you want to take a break from this?” you asked timidly, standing in the doorway and not daring to let yourself into the Master’s working space just yet since knocking on the door did nothing to catch his attention. 

He was rapidly glancing all over the papers, his mind being evidently busy with something of more significance than your presence. 

“I can get you some coffee if you like? Or... anything at all, really,” you made another attempt at starting a conversation but it was met with silence once again, except this time you noticed hints of irritation in the way he was making notes and moving things around his table, mercilessly digging his pen into his notebook and purposely making a lot more noise while searching for something buried under these piles of paper.

“Yeah, no worries then.” you sighed as you saw yourself out of the room. 

You were getting fed up with this.

As you were standing next to him and contemplating your options, you felt the air around you change a little. It was an insignificant shift but you were particularly sensitive to emotional fields people and other creatures tended to create, and right now the atmosphere did not feel friendly.

You looked at the Master and then back at the greenish humanoid looking creature he was talking to. The conflict was clearly starting to develop, filling the space around you with tension and unease. 

You were so close to the control room, you couldn’t let that happen. There were only a few more floors you had to pass in order to get to the royalty hall where your main mission would be taking place. 

“For Christ’s sake.” you thought to yourself, recognizing the familiar burning anger in the Master’s eyes as he was slowly losing his already weak grasp on his temper and reaching for his pocket, his actions now fuelled with proper intention of making the man pay for his disrespect and bad manners.

The problem with the Master was - no matter how brilliant and clever his ideas were, his emotions and temper would always get in the way. You had to learn it the hard way by nearly getting killed a couple of times because of it in the past. But pissing off a few soldiers and running away was one thing, and acting hostile on a space station sized ship with no quick way out was a completely different story. 

“I am so sorry, sir, my husband suffers from this terrible condition,” you spoke as you looked at the Master intensely, doing your best to wordlessly communicate with him and beg him to stay silent, “where he gets unreasonably aggressive when he’s upset.”

The man’s expression was now plagued with confusion but it was a good sign, you thought. He was paying attention.

“He’s just frustrated we can’t yet afford to lead a life like yours, sir. Isn’t that right, darling?” you patted the Master on the back, your voice now so sugary sweet it made you want to vomit, but you were committed to your little act and nothing could stop you.

“Please forgive our jealousy, we simply wish to be more like you but it pains us to realize we’re a long way away from that,” saying this made your skin itch, and you were pretty sure the Master’s eye was twitching a little. You looked at him briefly and noted he was indeed… puzzled. 

Your flattery seemed to work wonders on the man’s self esteem, though, his facial expression momentarily switching to pity and its default arrogance mixed with pride. 

You tried not to make eye contact with the Master as you were escorting him away, your hand wrapped around his elbow. Your heart was beating a little too fast for your liking, and your main concern for now was peacefully leaving the floor and avoiding any more fuss on the way because, honestly, you were getting angry yourself.

---

“What the hell was that?” was the first thing he asked you as soon as you both entered the TARDIS safely, the two of you still slightly out of breath from your usual cardio on your way back; the desired object sitting securely in the Master’s pocket.

“I was actually going to ask you this exact same question, how convenient.” you snapped, kicking off your heels and making your way to the console barefoot, the cold metal floor having a soothing effect on your aching feet.

The Master gave you a grim look as he took off his ridiculous and evidently uncomfortable jacket, and swiftly marched towards you. His intimidating aura rarely had any impact on you and you didn’t even flinch at his intrusion of your personal space. You knew all too well he would never hurt you deliberately. 

“I did not allow you to intervene.” 

“You should have seen your face, darling,” you said mockingly, maintaining intense eye contact as if it was a competition on who looks away first. 

“You should have heard your voice, such sweetness and flattery I was worried you were gonna kiss his ring at the end of your speech or something,” he spat out his words with grimaced disgust. 

The two of you stared at each other in complete silence for about half a minute, and your facade dropped first. You burst into laughter, giggling obnoxiously at the memory of the Master’s pure and sincere confusion. You’d never seen him so baffled and mad, the funniest thing of it all being the fact that he had to comply and play along. It made you a little proud of yourself.

The corner of the Master’s lips twitched, his stubbornness and denial still fighting his urge to crack up, but a couple of moments later he finally joined you. Any trace of annoyance was long gone, and a wide smile took over his person as he laughed out loud with you. 

“Idiot.” he commented, still chuckling and grinning while also unbuttoning his lousy shirt. You both wanted to get out of those trashy clothes as soon as possible. 

You suddenly went quiet. With no further talking you simply stepped forwards and hugged the Master tightly, burying your nose in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you.”

He hugged you back, resting one of his hands on your head and ruffling your hair, so very aware of how much you hated it. 

“Missed you too, fool.”

[monochrome-in-madness]

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My Top 10 Favourite Horrors

Within this top 10 list, some will include the prequels, sequels and any other follow ups as 1 ranking number. Some may be considered thriller, sci-fi, suspence etc, however, I do regard these as horrors myself.

I have take many aspects into account, such as videography, actor quality, SFX makeup quality, soundtrack, directors, CGI etc.

Note : this is my personal opinion. You do not have to agree with it, though if you haven't seen these, I highly reccomend them.

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1. The Conjuring

(1 & 2)

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The Conjuring 1 :

The Perron family moves into a farmhouse where they experience paranormal phenomena. They consult demonologists, Ed and Lorraine Warren, to help them get rid of the evil entity haunting them.

The Conjuring Trailer :

The Conjuring 2 :

Peggy, a single mother of four children, seeks the help of occult investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren when she and her children witness strange, paranormal events in their house

The Conjuring 2 Trailer :

My Opinion :

The Conjuring was the start of an incredible series of horrors that beat any other horror to the ground. It is absolutely fantastic and I basically worship these films. James Wan is my favourite director and he never ceases to amaze me.

Paranormal horror is my favourite and as someone who actually believes in the paranormal and who has had paranormal experiences, I can confirm that The Conjuring is much more realistic than any other paranormal films, which just makes it extra spooky.

The actors, camera angles, music, sfx makeup and storyline is just - chefs kiss -. I've been waiting for the 3rd one for so long, but they keep extending the release date. (R. I. P)

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2. Annabelle

(all of them)

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Annabelle :

John and Mia Form are attacked by a Satan worshipping couple, who uses their doll as a conduit to make their life miserable. This unleashes a string of paranormal events in the Forms' residence.

Annabelle Trailer :

Annabelle Creation :

Samuel and Elle embed their daughter's spirit into a doll, only to realise it is a demon. Years later, they open their home to a nun and six orphan girls, one of whom finds the doll.

Annabelle Creation Trailer :

Annabelle Comes Home :

Judy and her babysitter are left alone in her house after her parents leave to investigate a case. However, an unexpected guest sets Annabelle free, unleashing demonic activity in the house.

Annabelle Comes Home Trailer :

My Opinion :

Another great film series that was birthed form The Conjuring. Definitely less realistic, with many more jumpscares and spooky characters, which is appreciated in the horror world. Many people find dolls far more creepy than ghosts, myself included, so that's another perfect aspect that adds to the suspense.

I prefer Annabelle 3 over the others, mainly because I found that one to be more scary overall, even though Daniela is an idiot and she makes me so frustrated 😂

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3. Saw

(all of them)

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For the totally unindoctrinated, the Saw movie franchise revolves around the Jigsaw Killer (a.k.a. John Kramer), who tortures victims he believes are complacent or guilty, in order to make them appreciate their time on Earth.

All Saw Trailers :

Obviously I'm not going to list every Saw movie, because there are 7 (Jigsaw aka number 8, does NOT count. It is a disgrace).

My Opinion :

A classic for horror and gore lovers of all kinds. Of course I need to list this as number 3. I simply adore these movies. I even have the DVD set, so I am definitely a long term fan haha.

The obstacles and creativity regarding Saw as a whole needed a lot of thought put into it, plus it has a happy little side note of "make sure you don't cause harm to others in life and don't take anything for granted" which some may have not even noticed while being overwhelmed by the amount of fake blood.

Yes, a lot of characters are annoying, but that just makes us enjoy seeing them tortured even more (shh it's not real). Some of the blood doesn't look very realistic, the sfx can lack attention, BUT... It's still great and I can overlook these few flaws to appreciate the movies to the max.

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4. Blair Witch

(2016)

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A young man and his friends venture into the Black Hills Forest in Maryland to uncover the mystery surrounding his missing sister. Many believe her disappearance 17 years earlier is connected to the legend of the Blair Witch.

At first the group is hopeful, especially when two locals act as guides through the dark and winding woods. As the night wears on, a visit from a menacing presence soon makes them realize that the legend is all too real, and more sinister than they could have ever imagined.

Blair Witch Trailer :

My Opinion :

I love the camerawork. Not because it's perfect, because it's the opposite. It's a documentary style and this makes it feel more realistic, as if you are within the film yourself. I enjoy how they skip to the action at just the right time after a mild buildup.

The visuals are great as well and there were definitely some parts where I was disgusted and claustrophobic, which is good to experience while enjoying these types of films.

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5. Under The Skin

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Disguising itself as a human female, an extraterrestrial drives around Scotland attempting to lure unsuspecting men into her van. Once there, she seduces and sends them into another dimension where they are nothing more than meat.

Under The Skin Trailer :

My Opinion :

I would classify this as horror, but many won't. Either way, this is an amazingly artistic film with beautiful imagery and silent awe. It definitely makes you feel the suspense in a calming manner and it has some really dark moments. Without reading the description, one might be confused as to what is going on, but how art is supposed to be interpretated is by the imagination of individuals.

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6. Veronica

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During a solar eclipse, young Verónica and her friends want to summon the spirit of Verónica's father using an Ouija board. However, during the session she loses consciousness and soon it becomes clear that evil demons have arrived.

Veronica Trailer :

My Opinion :

A Spanish masterpiece, to put it simply. It's hard to find proper horrors like this in English. I really enjoyed this one and I watched it subbed not dubbed, because I feel like voiceovers tend to ruin the art of the original film. The buildup is perfect and unlike many horrors, it barely shows you the face of the "monster". That leaves it to the imagination, which in general makes it far more scary.

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7. Underwater

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Disaster strikes more than six miles below the ocean surface when water crashes through the walls of a drilling station. Led by their captain, the survivors realize that their only hope is to walk across the sea floor to reach the main part of the facility. But they soon find themselves in a fight for their lives when they come under attack from mysterious and deadly creatures that no one has ever seen.

Underwater Trailer :

My Opinion :

This movie was released quite recently and I didn't know what to expect. I was definitely blown away by how good it was. Being trapped underwater gives most people a sense of anxiety. Add being trapped underwater and being hunted by creepy sea monsters and you've got yourself a good horror. Kristen Stewarts general anxious personality definitely suits this film well.

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8. Split

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Kevin, who is suffering from dissociative identity disorder and has 23 alter egos, kidnaps three teenagers. They must figure out his friendly personas before he unleashes his 24th personality.

Split Trailer :

https://youtu.be/84TouqfIsiI

My Opinion :

An incredible film with phenomenal acting on the part of James McAvoy. You can get lost within his character and almost feel as if you are the character itself. Suspense is built up slowly and the climax of the film is released rapidly. People I know who do not enjoy horror, love this film themselves, which is saying something. It's definitely one of the best modern films that draws you in from the start. 

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9. A Quiet Place

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A family struggles for survival in a world where most humans have been killed by blind but noise-sensitive creatures. They are forced to communicate in sign language to keep the creatures at bay.

A Quiet Place Trailer :

https://youtu.be/WR7cc5t7tv8

My Opinion :

As you can tell by now, I love anything alien related. This film has some of the most amazing looking aliens I've seen, I was honestly in awe by how great they looked. Another silent film, but in a different sense to the previous one. Instead of being the hunter, this family is being hunted and this adds more to the fear factor.

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10. Unfriended - Dark Web

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When a teen finds a laptop with a cache of hidden files, he and his friend discover that the previous owner has access to the dark web and is watching over them.

Unfriended - Dark Web Trailer :

https://youtu.be/XenTM_C9fxM

My Opinion :

A modern take on horror. Involving the actual dangers of the dark web and the use of technology and turning it into a horror was a magnificent idea. It definitely had me at the edge of my seat.

Due to another film type that is not often explored (thus being that most of the movie is equal to what it would be like to look at your computer and video chat), it makes it different and therefore more compelling than the usual videography styles.

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Thank you for reading, if you've made it this far! Feel free to share your top 10 in the comment section, I am definitely interested in your opinions and finding new movies to watch myself. Any questions are also welcome.

Until next time, take care and stay spooky!

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[cantpickonefandoms]

Gwen, It’s Cold Outside

It was a quiet, peaceful, afternoon on a Saturday in December. It was a chilly, windy, grey day, the perfect sort of day to stay inside watching movies for the entirety of the day. That was exactly what two teenagers had decided to spend their day doing, the boy and girl were currently seated on a couch with a bowl of popcorn being shared between them, and a Christmas movie playing on the TV in front of them. The boy, who had jet-black messy hair, and bright emerald-green eyes, spoke up. "I still say this is a Halloween only movie." His gothic companion rolled her eyes at his comment. "That's because you're closed-minded, Trent." "I am not!" Trent protested. "I've just always watched Nightmare Before Christmas around Halloween, never around Christmas." The Goth smirked at him. "Well, you can enjoy watching Nightmare Before Christmas once a year, while I get to watch it twice a year." Trent snorted. "Please, you and I both know you watch this movie way more than twice a year, Gwen." Gwen didn't look at all ashamed at the comment, in fact, her smirk widened. "Well, of course I do. It's the best Disney movie." "Mmm, yeah, no. Aladdin is way better." "That is complete and utter bullshit!"

Trent just grinned and shook his head, he turned his head, deciding to turn his attention back to the movie rather than continuing to bicker with Gwen. He smiled as he watched Jack sing his way through Christmas Town, even though Trent certainly didn't love the movie as much as Gwen did, he still did really like the movie. In particular, Trent loved the music, but he did also love the animation and the story, plus he found he had a lot of sympathy for Sally, having feelings towards someone who didn't reciprocate those feelings? Trent could relate. With that thought in mind, Trent's eyes flicked back to the Goth sitting next to him. Trent had known Gwen for nearly three years now, since they met in grade nine, he was one of the few people who succeeded in getting close to the Goth, and Trent was forever grateful that Gwen had allowed him to get past her walls. Trent couldn't pinpoint when his feelings towards Gwen had gone from being friendly to being a crush, just that at some point Trent had become very aware of how much he blushed around Gwen, and how often he stared at her when Gwen wasn't looking. As if on cue, Gwen suddenly turned her head to Trent, and Trent immediately snapped his head forward, praying that Gwen wouldn't comment on his staring, he could feel the heat rising on his cheeks, how did he almost always end up in this situation around Gwen? Thankfully, Gwen didn't say anything, and Trent kept his eyes focused on Nightmare Before Christmas for the rest of the movie, he had no intention of ruining his friendship with Gwen by creeping her out with his staring.

The final scene of Jack and Sally kissing faded out and the credits appeared on the screen. Trent sat up and grabbed the remote off the table and pressed stop. Gwen sat up as well and stretched her arms. "Well, that was fun." Gwen said as she stood up, picked her phone up, and looked at it. "7:00, I'd better get going." Trent stood up too. "Alright, I'll walk you to the door." Trent offered. Gwen nodded, and the two made their way towards Trent's front entrance. As they were walking Trent took a look out the living room window, and his eyes widened at what he saw. "Oh crap." Gwen overheard Trent and came back to him. "What?" Trent pointed a finger towards the window. "That." Gwen turned her head towards the window and her eyes widened as well. "Oh, come on! I have to drive home in that?" Gwen complained. While Gwen and Trent had been watching their movies, it had started to snow a lot, and as they were looking out the window, there was already a good twenty centimeters of snow on the ground! "Freaking Canada." Gwen grumbled under her breath. "Well, I'd better get going before the snow gets any worse." Gwen said, as she made her way towards Trent's front door.

"Er, hold on Gwen." Trent said, as he looked back out the window. It didn't look like the snow would be stopping any time soon, and Trent could barely see beyond the thick snowflakes coming down outside. Trent turned to look at Gwen. "Are you sure you should drive in these conditions?" Trent asked her carefully, he knew had to be very careful about how he worded this to Gwen, one wrong word and he knew Gwen would be getting very defensive about how she could take care of herself. Trent watched as Gwen's eyebrows furrowed. "Not that I think you're an incompetent driver or anything. It's just that it looks pretty bad out there, maybe it would be better if you stayed here, it might stop snowing sometime later tonight." Trent said quickly. "Or it could keep snowing until tomorrow. This is my best chance to get home tonight, Trent. I appreciate your concern but-" Gwen suddenly got interrupted by a buzzing sound, Gwen took her phone out of her skirt pocket and looked at the screen. "Oh, it's my mom." Gwen said as she slid her finger across the screen and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?... Hi mom... Mmm hmm... Yes, we did notice the snow... What?... Oh... Ok, well I guess I'll see you later, maybe... Love you too, bye." Gwen tapped the button on her phone and put it back in her pocket. "What happened?" Trent asked. "Looks like you're getting your wish Trent. I can't leave, the city closed the roads." Trent's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh! Do they know for how long?" Gwen shrugged. "Nope, it's for an undetermined amount of time." "Well then I guess it's the two of us for the next little while, since my parents won't be back from their business trip until tomorrow." Gwen nodded. "Ok." "So, how does some dinner sound?"

The pair sat talking and eating, they were enjoying themselves as they waited out the snowstorm. Trent took his and Gwen's plates and brought them to the dishwasher, then he turned to Gwen. "So, what do you want to-" Trent suddenly stopped talking as all the lights in the kitchen suddenly all blinked on, then off, then on again. Gwen looked at the lights cautiously. "Ok... That was weird." Gwen said. "Yeah..." Trent said, as he too eyes the lights carefully. "Hopefully that was it, and the lights won't shut off-" The lights shut off again, and this time they didn't turn back on. "Well, that's not good." Trent muttered. "Yeah, no shit." A moment later Trent could make out the light coming from the flashlight on Gwen's phone, Trent followed Gwen's example and did the same with his phone. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say the snowstorm caused this blackout." Gwen said. "That's the most likely scenario." Trent agreed. "And seeing as I don't think the snow is going to be stopping any time soon, I'm also guessing we're not going to be getting the electricity back for a while." Gwen added. "Probably." Trent said. "And I think it's safe to say that I'm probably going to be crashing here tonight." Trent nodded. "Which means you and I need to figure some things out. Like how we're going to stay warm." Trent's eyes widened. "Oh crap, you're right, no electricity means no heat." "Don't panic, Trent. All things considered, this situation could be way worse, we already ate so we don't need to worry about food, I think the only main concern right now is staying warm." "I'm not panicking." Trent said honestly. "I guess I just suddenly became aware of what sort of situation we're in right now." "Well, come on, lets focus on getting a few things prepared, shall we?"

After doing a search for flashlights, candles, and matches ("In case our phones die." Gwen had said.), Trent grabbed some of the thickest blankets he could find, and gave some to Gwen so she could get set up in the guest bedroom, while Trent brought his own blankets to his room. By the time they were both situated in their rooms it was already 10:00 and no electricity meant they couldn't watch movies, no electricity also meant no Wi-Fi, so Trent's laptop wasn't an option either, and neither of them really wanted to use their phones because their phones were their main light source and the only way they could currently communicate with their family ("This is really making me realize exactly how much we rely on electricity." Trent commented). With all that in mind Gwen and Trent agreed there wasn't much left to do other than try and get some sleep. After bidding Gwen goodnight, Trent headed to his room, changed into his pajamas, and got into bed. Trent laid awake, he wasn't afraid of the dark, but there was something Trent found eerie about the darkness in his room, maybe it was because it was pitch black in his room, usually he could see the light from the streetlight coming through his bedroom window, but tonight there was nothing but darkness. At least he wasn't cold, Trent had always been fairly resistant towards being cold, the cold didn't bother him all that much.

Trent continued to toss and turn, for some reason he just couldn't sleep. This went on for some time, until Trent suddenly heard a tapping noise. Trent sat up, looking towards his bedroom door, and this time he heard it for sure: A soft tapping on his bedroom. Was Gwen still awake? "Gwen?" "Can I come in?" Gwen was speaking very softly, and Trent wasn't quite sure why, they were the only ones in the house after all. "Sure." A moment later Gwen came into his room with a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "Couldn't sleep?" Gwen shook her head, she made her way over to Trent and sat at the end of Trent's bed. Trent observed Gwen's silhouette, there was some odd going on with her, Gwen wasn't looking at him, she was looking at her feet. "What's wrong, Gwen?" Trent asked. "I'm cold." Gwen said. Trent blinked on confusion for a moment, he couldn't understand how Gwen could be possibly be cold, with the mountain of blankets he had given her, but then Trent remembered something: Gwen was incredibly sensitive to the cold, she often said that she wished that she had Trent's ability to resist the cold. "Ok, do you want more blankets?" Gwen shook her head; she still wasn't looking at Trent. "I was thinking of another way we could both stay warm, actually." Gwen said quietly. "Ok..." Why was Gwen acting so strange? "I thinking... Maybe we could use... Body heat?" Trent blinked a few times, he was attempting to process what exactly Gwen was suggesting, then it finally clicked on why Gwen was acting so odd, Gwen was shy. Trent knew Gwen very well, and she was a lot of things: Sarcastic, tough, and blunt were words that came to mind, but shy? That was a new one, but Trent understood why, a boy and a girl who were friends sharing a bed was definitely a little awkward, thought Trent thought it might be little more awkward for him than it would be for Gwen, considering his feelings for her were more than friendly.

"Er, well- I mean-" Trent stuttered, he could feel his face heating up, he was suddenly very glad his room was pitch black. "Only if- If you're comfortable with it." "Would I be suggesting it if I wasn't comfortable with it?" "Well- I guess not, but-" "Trent, look at me." Trent looked up, and he was surprised to find Gwen looking back at him, he could just make out the twin glints coming from Gwen's eyes. "We've been friends for a while now, haven't we?" Trent blinked. "Yeah." Where was Gwen going with this? "And we're pretty close, right?" "Yes." "Then I think it would take a lot more than sharing a bed so we don't freeze to make things awkward between us, don't you?" Trent paused; Gwen's logic was pretty sound. Trent just hoped he would survive sleeping next to his crush. "Yeah, you're right." Trent could sense Gwen's trademark sly smirk spreading across her face. "I usually am." Trent chuckled at that, and with that, Trent screwed up his courage, shifted to the left side of his bed, and lifted his covers so Gwen could get in. A moment later Trent was lying face to face with Gwen, being this close to Gwen's face, Trent could make out her facial features in the dark, her snow-white skin, her charcoal-coloured eyes that Trent could spend forever staring at, her pointy nose, and her lips. God who knows how many times Trent had imagined kissing her, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers, he had often wondered what her lips would feel like pressed against his, he highly doubted it would ever happen though, he was positive Gwen only thought of him as a friend and- What was he doing? Trent suddenly came out of his fantasy and suddenly became very aware of what he was doing, he, in real time, had actually been leaning into Gwen's face. Trent quickly laid his head back on the pillow, and then looked at Gwen, she was still awake.

Crapcrapcrapcrap CRAP Trent felt like his face was going to burst into flames. "...Trent?" This was it; Gwen was going to demand to know what the hell he was doing, there was not getting out of this. "Are you ok?" Oh, apparently not. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Trent said quickly. "Ok..." It didn't sound like Gwen believed him, Trent didn't blame her, he knew he didn't sound very convincing. Trent yawned. "I think we should go to sleep now." Trent said. "I guess so..." "Ok, goodnight." Trent said quickly, then he threw his arm around Gwen and shut his eyes, then he became aware the he had out his arm around Gwen's waist. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Trent quickly lifted his arm off of Gwen, he could feel his face heating up even more. "Sorry." Trent said. "It's ok, I didn't mind." Had Trent heard that correctly? "You could do it again, if you want to." Trent could not believe what he was hearing, as if his face wasn't on fire as it was, what was Gwen trying to do? Make him combust? "O-Ok." Trent put his arm back around Gwen, and slowly pulled her towards him until Gwen's body was pressed against his. Trent silently marveled at how Gwen's body fit perfectly against his, like a puzzle piece. "You're pretty tense, Trent." Gwen commented quietly. "Oh, sorry." "You can relax, Trent, it's just me." But she wasn't 'just Gwen' not to him, she meant so much to him, and ruining things between them terrified him. Not that he was going to tell Gwen that, so Trent shifted a bit and allowed himself to relax, allowing himself to enjoy this moment of having Gwen right next to him. With that, Trent, and Gwen, fell asleep.

The next morning Trent awoke to sunlight filling his room, he took in his surroundings and recalled what had happened last night, and how Gwen had ended up in his bed. A part of him really didn't want to move, there was no way an opportunity to have Gwen this close to him was ever going to happen again, he really wanted to enjoy this, but at the same time Trent knew he should get up and find out if the electricity was back on. With that, Trent carefully shifted himself so he wouldn't disturb Gwen, and crept out of his room and headed downstairs. Trent made his way over to the light switch and pressed it, and to Trent's delight, the overhead light in his living room turned on. Once Trent had his confirmation that the electricity was back on, Trent decided to look outside, he went over to his living room window and looked out onto the street and immediately groaned. There was tons of snow, about forty centimeters of it, and Trent was not looking forward to shoveling it. Then Trent heard the sound of footsteps, and Trent turned around to find Gwen coming up to him. "Good morning." Trent said. "Morning, electricity back on?" Trent nodded. "Good, I'm glad, and how's it looking outside?" Gwen looked out the window and she groaned as well. "Can't wait to drive home in that." Gwen said sarcastically. "Come on, I'll make us some breakfast." Trent said, and the pair headed towards the kitchen.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, neither Trent nor Gwen were particularly talkative that morning. Trent wondered if it was because of him, sure the silence between them didn't feel awkward, but Trent couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow caused this. Once they had finished eating, Trent put their dishes in the dishwasher, and walked Gwen to the door. As Gwen was putting on her Winter clothes she suddenly spoke up. "You know, despite the situation being a little strange, I think I'd do this again." Trent raised an eyebrow at Gwen. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, I'm honestly glad I wasn't snowed in with my mom and my brother, we probably would've only gotten an hour into it before me and Gavin would've tried to kill each other." Trent chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. I could think of worse people to be snowed in with for a night." "That's the spirit." Gwen said. "Oh, by the way, thanks for last night." "Oh, no problem." "I know it was a little awkward, but I don't think it was that bad overall, do you?" "No, you're right, it wasn't that bad." Trent said honestly. Despite me acting like an idiot. "Yeah, maybe we should do it again sometime." Gwen had a teasing grin on her face at this point, so Trent figured she was probably joking. "Y-yeah, maybe we should." Trent said, trying desperately to go along with Gwen's joke. "Yeah, maybe you'll actually kiss me next time." Trent's face went bright red, and his jaw dropped, whatever he had been expecting Gwen to say, it certainly hadn't been that. Gwen definitely wasn't joking; she had a dead serious look on her face. "H-how- How did you-" "Oh come on Trent, even in the dark it was kind of obvious what you were trying to do. Do you think I'm an idiot?" "No!" Trent cried. "I-I just... Hoped you hadn't noticed?" That sounded lame even to Trent, because of course Gwen had noticed. Trent looked down at his shoes, he couldn't look at Gwen now. She knew, the cat was out of the bag, this was the part where Gwen told him that she didn't feel the same way, then she going to leave, and that would be it. Friendship over.

"Trent?" Here it comes. Trent couldn't look up. "Can you look at me?" Trent didn't want to, he really didn't, but he also couldn't say no to Gwen. Trent looked up and into Gwen's eyes. There was no pity, her expression was neutral, and unreadable. "Did you honestly think I never noticed the way you blush and stutter around me? Or how you stare at me when I think I'm not looking?" Trent felt his face reddening even more. "Well- Yes? No! I- I don't know! You never commented on it." Trent pointed out. As Trent said it, a question came to him, why hadn't Gwen ever mentioned anything before? To spare his feelings? To avoid making things even more awkward? "What didn't you tell me that you knew, Gwen?" Trent asked her. Trent watched as Gwen chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "I was afraid I reading your feelings incorrectly. If I had been wrong about how you felt then..." Gwen swallowed. "Then you wouldn't feel the same way I felt about you." Trent's jaw dropped to for the second time. Had he heard that correctly? "Are- Are you being serious?" Trent asked. "Dead serious, Trent, I would never lie to you about something like this." Gwen said very seriously. Giddy happiness surged through Trent, Gwen had feelings for him. This was, without a doubt, the happiest moment in Trent's life. A grin spread across Trent's face, and when he looked at Gwen, he saw that she had a matching grin. He walked straight up to Gwen, Trent stopped when his face was about a centimeter from Gwen's, then he put Gwen's face between his hands, pulled her face towards his, and pressed his lips against hers. It was better than Trent had ever imagined. The kiss was short and sweet, but still perfect, Trent was the one who pulled back. "Gwen, will you be my girlfriend?" Trent asked her. Gwen's smile widened. "I thought you'd never ask." Trent laughed, then he pulled Gwen back in for another kiss.

End

[aelaer]

The Blood in My Veins (a serial)

Okay, so I will sometimes let prompts that interest me just sit for a bit and see if they remain in my head or not and yeah, Prompt #608 from @ironstrangeprompts (which I can't tag for some reason) wouldn't go away and I blame absolutely everyone who told me to do it for distracting me from the long multi-chapters I'm desperately trying to write this year. But in return you get Part One of a tumblr serial with absolutely no idea as to where it's going and no update schedule in mind. :P But it's supposed to get to the reveal in the prompt eventually. Promise. Speculation highly encouraged as that helps plot bunnies very much.

Prompt: Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.

This is unbetaed; apologies for any errors.

Part 1 - How We Began

Stephen's thoughts were sluggish and his memory spotty as he began to wake up. Worse, he had a headache that was boring into his temples and made the idea of opening his eyes, never mind moving, sound like an absolutely terrible one.

Sound began to filter through the fog. Eventually he was able to distinguish some words within it.

"...waking up…"

"...pulse is still slow…"

"...considering what he was given…"

He recognized none of the voices. Through sheer stubbornness alone, Stephen ignored his pounding head and forced his heavy eyelids open, only to immediately close them again against the sharp brightness of the fluorescent lighting above him. He could not help but groan.

"Right, the lights," someone—female—said, and he felt a cloth placed over his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do anything about the lights, but you'll adjust to them soon enough. I have some water for you when you're ready, too."

Some part of Stephen's brain registered that she had an English accent. The rest of the functioning part of his mind focused on speaking. "Who…" And that was all he could manage at the moment.

"My name's Doctor Summer Weston," she answered.

A doctor? Was he injured? He wet his lips and tried for more than one word. "My... injuries?" What had he been doing to get injured? How bad was it? How much morphine was running through his system?

He felt Doctor Weston's fingers on his radial pulse. (Why was she doing that? Where was the EKG?) "No injuries; your current headache and sensitivity to light are an after effect of the drug in your system. I think you're at the tail end of your symptoms, though."

That… made no sense in a number of ways. Stephen forced his eyes open once more, and the cloth over his eyes made the endeavor manageable this time. "What happened?"

He heard her exhale softly. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Stephen had to pause to think about it, which was both incredibly unusual and rather annoying. He frowned to himself as he concentrated. Was he at the hospital? No, he was off. He was… "Grocery shopping. I was at the store. I think I paid." Yes, he remembered paying. He had decided to walk the three blocks to and from the store and was heading back to his apartment. Beyond that point, his memory became fuzzy.

Doctor Weston didn't say anything about his answer and instead just said, "You need water. Do you think you can handle the light? If not, we can keep the towel on and I can help you up."

He didn't respond, but moved his arm up and pulled the cloth away from his eyes, squinting at the ugly rectangle panels above him. The other doctor helped him up into a sitting position and gave him a bottle of water, but Stephen was too busy staring at his surroundings. While he was on a medical bed, in front of him was a large room that could only be described as a biochemical lab. It had state-of-the-art equipment, much of it looking brand new, and working there was another man and two women all in lab coats. Against nearby walls away from the machinery were several other medical beds.

"Drink," Doctor Weston encouraged, and his parched throat more than anything had Stephen doing so.

"Where am I?" he asked, squinting at Doctor Summer Weston. She appeared somewhere between thirty and forty and currently wore her long brown hair in a messy bun. She was pale and looked tired, with dark bags under her grey eyes and thin lips bent downturned. She wasn't wearing any makeup, either, which was a look he knew on his female patients before surgery but usually not on female doctors (and a couple of non-women doctors, too).

"I don't know," she answered. "None of us do." 

Stephen's confusion (and alarm, though he wouldn't admit that yet) grew. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She gave him a rueful smile. "There's really no easy way to break this: you've been kidnapped, just like the rest of us."

He stared at her in disbelief, half-wondering if he heard her right. His head was still pounding with his heartbeat and that made his hearing less clear, after all. "What?" was what he managed.

"Yeah." The lackluster smile returned. "So, are you an orthopedic surgeon or a neurosurgeon?"

"Neurosurgeon," he automatically answered, then stared at her. "How did you know?"

"The X-rays," was Doctor Weston's inexplicable answer. "I'll show you in a bit," she said as Stephen went to retort. "We should get introductions out of the way. Drink more water."

Stephen frowned at her, but his head was still complaining and for that reason alone he drank instead of demanding further answers that moment. At least the light was becoming more bearable.

In the meantime, Doctor Weston called to the others, "He's fully awake now. Take a break for introductions and water."

One of the women, who was in her mid-forties, he guessed, with thick straight black hair pulled back, and a rich coppery brown skin that appeared in tight and worried lines across her face, shifted in discomfort. She adjusted her narrow-rimmed glasses then looked over to the wall, and Stephen followed her gaze to see a camera in the corner. "How long have we been working?" she asked; she also had an English accent.

"About five hours," Doctor Weston said after looking at her watch. "You should be okay for a few minutes."

"I think so. I have to wait for the centrifuge to finish, anyway," said the third woman, and the tallest of the three women (though maybe it was her natural curly hair giving her extra height). Her white lab coat contrasted sharply against her rich umber skin under the bright fluorescent lights, and just like the others, she looked stressed and tired. She appeared somewhere about his age and was definitely American, with the slightest hint of a southern twang in her voice.

The final one in the room, a balding man with salt-and-pepper hair and perhaps in his mid-forties or early fifties, stepped forward from his work station first. His complexion was a flushed pink and he wore thick lenses, but they did nothing to hide his bright green irises. "How are you feeling?" He spoke with a heavy German accent.

Stephen grimaced. "I've been better," he answered as he was surrounded by the four of them.

"We know what it feels like," the African-American woman replied. "I'm Doctor Jada Ferguson. Hematologist, University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center, Houston."

"Doctor Meera Mahajan," said the other unnamed woman. "Pathologist with a specialty in cytopathology, from St Bartholomew's Hospital in London."

"I'm from London, too," Doctor Weston added. "Though from St Thomas' Hospital. Cardiothoracic surgeon."

"And I'm Doctor Steffen Baar," said the man. "I work as a pharmaceutical chemist for Bayer in Wuppertal, in western Germany."

Stephen wrapped his mind around this new information as they introduced themselves and started trying to connect the pieces of this (terrifying) puzzle together. After they finished speaking, he cleared his throat and said, "Doctor Stephen Strange. Neurosurgeon, Metro-General, New York."

Doctor Ferguson made an affirmative noise. "I read your latest publication not that long ago. It was fascinating."

"I've read yours as well," Stephen said, then looked at the others. "I've read publication papers from all of you within the last three years." And there was a reason he remembered their names; they were all brilliant studies and clearly experts in their specialties. Why the fucking hell were they all here?

His face must have reflected his thoughts, because Doctor Mahajan said, "Whoever brought us here wants us to work." She glanced over her shoulder, then added, "Which is apparent." She then opened her mouth, paused, then shut it.

Stephen frowned. "Work on what, exactly?"

Doctor Weston also looked over towards the camera, then said, "Our job is to keep an unknown patient alive. And you've been drafted."

Tagging @walkin-in-the-cosmos (though it’s not tagging right) and @queenofalotofdifferentworlds as requested in the original prompt post.

Full disclosure: In terms of writing I concentrate more on plot and worldbuilding and not really the development of romance. Whenever this serial ends, it'll likely end on an ambiguous, open ending to interpret the relationship's route to the reader's pleasure (what we once labeled "gen or pre-slash" stories, not sure if that's used anymore). It'll definitely not explore anything remotely sexual beyond your usual PG-13 innuendo (if that). So if that's not what you're looking for in this prompt fill you can ignore the rest of the series :)

But if the serial does interest you and you want to be tagged in the next post, I'm starting the clean slate with this first one. Just leave a comment expressing interest in being notified/tagged for the serial, though I'm afraid I have no planned update schedule.

[sophocused]

mindset update | first week into 2021

recently I've been bullet journaling again, but mostly spread of the self-help tips I've compiled from different podcasts and media.

seven beliefs of an emotionally healthy person from savvy psychologist on Spotify helped a lot to write down

especially, "I can do things I don't feel like doing," which taught me about a skill I can practice called mood-independent behaviour. it's a practice where you do the thing even if you don't feel like it, and observe yourself as your mood catches up. Your mood picks up because you start getting into the rhythm and thinking "oh hey I'm doing it! and I'm liking it, because I like feeling like I'm getting things done, therefore I will keep doing it now, and follow through."

It also helped to know that even if the mood doesn't pick up everytime, at least the thing that needed to be done got done.

This has been me for my room, I used the konmari/marie kondo method before the year ended as usual, for my dresser (makeup, lotions, perfumes, jewellry, skincare, etc), my closet (as someone who hates folding laundry oh my goodness have I shifted things for myself and my mood lately by finally getting that done), my desk (notebooks, stationery, washi tape which I gave a lot up to my sister), and finally under my bed.

I have had a CLEAN room for a whole week, the cleanest it has been in almost a year.

There is finally not a basket waiting in the corner to be folded that I would pick my work clothes out of as the weekdays go by.

There is less junk under my bed of old sentimental who-knows in shoe boxes.

The bookshelf has all my new books so I can finally reach for them instead of them kinda just being there.

The dresser has so much clear space now 😭 just the 5 daily things I use for skin care and makeup are out and closest to me.

My desk has my huion kamvas 16 pro tablet, a laptop stand/2019 dell XPS 15, and all the wires sorted and held together, complete with usb dock.

My desk shelves only have what I need in reach daily, the pilot juice pens, some brush pens, Crayola markers, sketchbooks and bujos.

I can finally just see my carpet floor and not be bumping into it, or seeing some clothing item I shed like a snake.

Overall, while I was mindful not the let the new year stress get to me (like the feeling down on myself for not accomplishing much in 2020) and also to not just set unrealistic new year's resolutions, I have still taken the opportunity to begin new habits with the sole goal of wanting to make my mind a softer place to exist in.

A practice as simple as pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth actively to make sure I don't zone out and subconsciously clench my teeth or jaw has helped me ease my daily anxiety and stresses too.

I'm focused on living and existing purposefully, actively being more present, no more spacing out, but being aware of what I am doing and taking note of the positive things about it.

For example, I could hate riding the bus as it gives me anxiety being in an enclosed space in the pandemic, I dissipate it by saying "I'm calmed that everyone is wearing a mask and the bus never gets too full, and also I have my music to keep me from getting a headache from the bus noise."

Another time from the past week since going back to work, "The students I supervise can be terrible listeners and I feel most of my day is spent saying the same things over and over, and I'm wasting energy and getting cranky." Once again, my after thought is, "yeah they make me cranky but talking to them and making jokes helps lighten the mood and builds their rapport with me, and thus they can listen to my instruction better. Their laughter makes me happy because it makes me feel that I'm doing something right. I like being called by my last name, it makes me feel like my future career as a teacher is closer than I think."

Just today, I had to go to the extended term in-person lab, and it was my first time being in a lab since February 2020. I was anxious and nervous, and I had to bus for 1.5 hours to get to campus. The TA was being incredibly snarky and condescending when we were just starting, and at first I kept thinking of my criqitue in his poor job as a TA to be talking to us like we were idiots. I took a mental step back, realized that I have never done anything personally to offend him, so he was just having a day. With that, I could release myself from the burden of taking his crankiness to heart. I said thank you with every instruction even if he was being rude about it, and just laughed when he tried to be mean. Within the first 20 min of that three hour lab, he became much nicer towards me, and made personal small talk about work and how we dealt with the pandemic, and he helped me do three things at once. He was still being ruthless but I think he recognized that I was not going to let it ruin my day and I'm still going to perform this lab to the best of my ability and have fun.

I started off this week with a lot of dread, but I find myself actively trying to make things happen for myself, doing things with the thought of "I need to be able to name at least one thing that made me smile today and that will be enough". And I find myself being able to lift my mood up with less resistance.

My sleep cycle is next up, I have woken up at 11:30am, then 10:30am, then today 9:30am, I am almost to my back of my mind goal, to just start waking up early again, to have ample time for a routine before my winter term of uni whisks me away. When I am whisked away I want to be sturdy, I want to ride the wave. I don't want to feel like I'm fighting the current or spiraling down the rapids. I want to make myself sane and that's about it. That's the crucks of it all.

(I am aware what is happening in the US, and as someone extremely sensitive to others' misfortune with the susceptibility to fall into a rage about how the world feels like it'll keep taking steps back into our demise, I am being careful not to consume too much of the news, as I need to keep the momentum first of keeping myself in the right mindset)