#and just throw their hands up and go ''well whatever none of the pressures of society apply here anything at all can happen''

[juney-blues]

when a cis person gets medical surgery and treatment to allign closer with their coercively assigned gender at birth, that is in fact, different, to when a transgender person does it.

yes, even if they're the same surgeries! and yes, even if the cis person is intersex!

that does not make a cisgender person meaningfully "trans" in any way what are you people talking about?

being transgender is kinda, fundamentally about being a different gender than you were assigned at birth! and the societal pressures that come with being that are always going to be different than someone who has the same gender that society assigns them!

like this line of thought implies that, being transgender is just a process of surgeries and hormones and medicalization? which, i shouldn't have to tell you that's transphobic but it kinda fuckin is !

i'm sorry but this is just a nonsensical concept and following it to any of its logical conclusions implies really weird things about transgender people and intersex people.

[itsyagurlchip]

INGRESSIVE INHALE

I. Need. 2018 Raphael. DATE HEADCANONS

(only if you want :3)

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Lovely Sights☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: none, enjoy :)!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 VOID MY DEARRRRR ❤️❤️❤️ I GOTCHU BAE 🤪 but fr, thx for requesting! (GUYS STOP SAYING "IF YOU WANT TO" GRGGRGRGGR I WOULDVE DELETED THE ASK IF I DIDNT WANT TO USYGSUYGSUHVUSGV) (this was from months ago, we are now divorced. croak you old witch/jjjj)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ohhhhh, Raph has a datemateee~

Raph is a huge guy, so that's where all the love's gonna be at today.

He loves it when you sleep on top of him when you guys cuddle, to feel that small pressure on him makes him sleep as well.

While he doesn't like holding you per say, he loves it when you hang onto him.

It makes him feel like he doesn't always have to be aware of himself holding you, and only the things around you two.

Raph feels comforted when you just hold his face, and close your eyes..

Whether it is a breathing practice, or when he needs to calm down, he always likes the feeling of your hands against his face.

Double points if you scratch his neck between those two spikes-!

Oh man, you're the best at those.

I feel like if Raph were approached with a situation where he's feeling possessive, he'd get all shy and nervous about it.

He feels as if it shouldn't be right for him to feel that way, I mean, y-you're already perfect so- why'd you wanna huffy puffy giant over your shoulder?

Nuh uh! He resists it all! Okay, maybe glare at the woman staring at you, and the dude biting his lip.

What's up with everyone and trying to snatch you up!? All the other people were wuss, and Raph got you first!

Eyes off punk!

Sometimes, when you're sitting on the couch, Raph just likes to plant his head on your lap and watch you do whatever you're doing.

The way your face scrunches up when a main character does something stupid.

Or when you giggle at a short video.

And when you subconsciously start rubbing your hand against the back of his neck.

It makes him shiver, with a deep rumble, and relax more into your warmth.

Sometimes you don't even know it, but Raph unknowingly takes your arm and just rests his teeth there.

Not even biting it, just resting his jaw between your arm.

Sometimes he adds pressure to feel the gummy-squish as he nibbles softly.

"Raph, Honey, you're doing it again." You'd say, smiling a bit as Donnie went on to explain what the mission was.

"Mhoin' wha'?" He muffled, looking down at your arm and letting go immediately.

He gets super embarrassed afterwards.

On the line of embarrassed, the MOMENT you leave the lair he's all giggly n stuff.

"Bro who gotchu smilin' like that?"

He brothers tease him so much for it, but he can't help but take it because ALL of what they're saying is TRUE.

Poor guy is lovesick, and all you did was make kandi together :)

Sometimes he likes to gush to Mikey about your most recent date, or the outfit you wore today, and the way you smiled while talking about your favorite food.

Mikey was eatin' it up. He declared Raph 'Downbad, Certified Love Chaser.'

Leo would side eye with every rant, pretending to throw up at every compliment Raph prayed your way.

Like bro, keep that to yourself thank yew very much.

If Raph ever talks to Donnie about you, he would simply be confused.

Why is Raph talking about crushes to Donnie? His heart belongs to the one and only Atomic Lass.

With all those words, he could literally program a bot. But he lets him talk, never really listens though.

I don't think i've ever covered this part of him, but how would Savage Raph feel about you?

Me personally, I see Savage Raph as a defense mechanism to protect himself when he truly thinks he's alone.

And in turn, it sort of makes him more turtle than teenager you know?

Let's look at this two ways;

If he did think you were a threat, he would probably hurt you severely. When snapping turtles find people as threats, they either hide or bite them.(I know many people don't like hearing that, but I think it's true)

If he didn't, then he would protect you as well. Maybe even huddle himself around you to create a barrier between you and the world. When snapping turtles want to show affection, they protect their mates from harm.

Do you see the vision?

Which brings me to my next point:

While Raph never wants to intentionally hurt you, ever, it still happens. Savage Raph, for example.

You guys will find yourselves in moments where you nick your hands or shoulders during cuddling, and Raph apologizes heavily.

He'll panic first, not knowing what to do because his mind's run a blank.

But after a lil pep talk with mind Raph, he gets himself together and grabs you a bandaid from his dresser, not before cleaning the scratch though.

When you guys train together, his punches can leave giant bruises on you and he feels guilty every single time.

You swear you're fine! You could take more!!

But Raph seeing you breath heavily will be like "Nope! Nuh uh, you're going to the med-room. I ain't fightin' you until you take a break!"

All Raph knows, he has a lovely sight to see everyday.

He couldn't believe it took so long to find it.

tehe I made it extra long for you<333

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[temporarywelcome]

Formula of Love - Tate Langdon

Words: .8k (short n' sweet)

Summary: Tate can't stand reader's music taste.

A/N: trying out shorter fics to see how I like it.

“Shut the hell up Mina is so the best dancer in the group,” 

Swinging her legs while lying on her stomach in her comfy bed, Y/N had her phone pressed to her ear using her shoulder as leverage. She pouted, replying to her best friend, “Bullshit, it’s Momo. Mina is a great dancer too though, which is why they share the main dancer position,” 

“You’re just biased because you’re, like, in love with her,” her friend shot back. 

Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes, “My true love is Jihyo,” 

“She will never love you,”

“Youch,” she sat up, “Imma go now, I have some homework to do,” 

After saying their goodbyes, the two hung up, Y/N standing up and walking to her shelf. Surveying her album collection, she plucked out Formula of Love by TWICE, the group that housed Mina, Momo, and Jihyo, settling down in her bed again. Popping open the CD rom of her laptop, she inserted the disk.

Hey, if you have a million albums, you might as well use the CDs.

As SCIENTIST began to play, she hummed along to the song, occasionally eyeing the side of her laptop as if the CD rom was going to pop open on its own. 

Well, she wouldn’t be surprised if it did.

Ever since she had moved into this house with her family, every time she would play music and leave her phone or laptop for a few moments, the music would either stop or completely change. 

It was… strange, to say the least. Very strange. 

After a few minutes, her stomach rumbled, so she stood up and slipped out of her room to get to the kitchen. 

And that was when Tate Langdon took his chance. 

Tate hated Y/N’s music taste. To him, her music was meaningless and straight up ass. It didn’t help that he didn’t know what they were saying most of the time, so he really didn’t know what the meaning to any of these songs were. 

It didn’t matter anyway, none of those people would ever compare to Kurt Cobain. 

A one point, Y/N had gone hours listening to her shitty music and since she was so engrossed with whatever she was looking at on her laptop, Tate took the opportunity, grabbing a Sharpie and drawing all over one of the posters on her door. 

She was furious, blaming everyone in the house, which gave him time to replace the CD she was listening to with one of her dad’s Nirvana CDs. 

Her dad was cool. 

So as Y/N busied herself with getting a snack, Tate opened the CD rom and took out the stupid TWICE CD, replacing it with a Nirvana one he had taken from her father’s collection in the basement. 

Ah, Kurt Cobain. Real shit. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”

Tate jumped, head snapping to the direction of the sound. The doorway. Y/N, holding a bowl filled with what he could assume was her brainfood for this homework session. 

“You can see me?” he asked stupidly. 

She looked at him like he really was stupid, “Of course? Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room!?”

“Your music taste is ass,” he ignored her question, lying on her bed.

“Excuse me?” she blinked, eyeing her room for some sort of protection in the chance he was an insane serial killer.

“It’s ass,” he repeated.

“How dare you?” Y/N was completely flabbergasted, “You came into my room just to insult my music taste? Get the hell out!” 

“I don’t want to, Kurt is speaking,” he replied, “I’m Tate, by the way,”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass, get out!” she hissed. She went to throw the first thing she saw at him, the Formula of Love album, but paused. She would not risk a perfectly good album on this asshole. She had a Jihyo poster in there. 

He huffed, offended, as if he had the right to be, “Well, now I definitely don’t want to leave,” 

“What the fuck?” she could feel her blood pressure rising more and more, “Get the fuck out of my house!”

Tate smirked, dimples on full display as he stood up and sauntered towards her. Taking the album from her hands, pissing her off further, he looked down at it, “You call this real music?” 

“You’re a real nice guy, y’know that?” she snatched the album back from him, “Are you the one who keeps fucking with my music?!” the more she processed it, the more ticked off and panicked she got, “How often are you in my house?!”

“Does it matter? I think your poor music taste is more important, a much bigger issue,” 

What the hell is wrong with this guy?

He grinned, strolling towards her album collection, “What is the appeal anyway? You don’t even know what they’re saying,” 

Y/N paused, before slowly joining him in front of the bookshelf. She pulled out a different album, Ready to Be, “I’ll advocate on TWICE’s behalf, you can speak in defense of your Nirvana. Then you can get the hell out of my house.

Tate’s eyes lit up, the idea of being able to talk to a pretty girl around his age about something he enjoyed bringing him joy, “I’m so going to win,”

She was speaking his language. He had a feeling they would be talking more often.

[woundedsoul12]

Yay finally made a WIP Wednesday

Going to get Neve (the Lighthouse's unofficial therapist) some love with Rook's sister

Using my M!Qunari!SD!Rook romancing Lucanis

“So, are we sure that's his sister?”

Taash asked the question that had definitely been on Neve's mind. It wasn't just that the woman was an entire head shorter than the Qunari she was currently squared off against, but she was also human. And despite the bruises and cuts along her skin after her capture, she was undeniably gorgeous to look at.

“I believe so,” shrugged Davrin as everyone watched with rapt attention. Neve maybe a little bit closer than everyone else.

The pair seemed to have forgotten their audience as they circled each other in the center of the Shadow Dragon hideout. For having just been rescued, she looked like she was ready to tear him apart.

“Nice of you to finally fucking show up,” she snarled.

“Look I came as soon as Ashur sent word. I don't know how fast you think I was supposed to get here but-”

“Whatever. Always the same excuses. Always dragging me into your shit.” She cracked her knuckles before her hands went to the daggers at her hip. Neve noticed Lucanis tense across the room. His eyes had that purple glow to them, and she knew this situation might turn real ugly real quick.

“Oh don't start with me. You knew what you were getting into when you joined the Shadow Dragons.”

“Fuck you, Rook,” she made a face as she said his name like it was a joke. “You can act like a badass because your friends are here. But I know you. I'm the one who always has to clean up behind your messes.”

Neve had never seen anyone talk Rook like this. She was fairly certain none of them had. Their usual carefree leader looked ready to throw hands. His face was twisted, and he was chest to chest with the small woman who looked just as furious.

“Well I'm sorry we couldn't all be mom's favorite-”

His words were finally too much. There was a loud crack as she hit him then. Square in the nose. He fell back clutching his face as blood flowed freely. Neve saw a flash of movement. Thankfully Davrin and Taash were able to restrain Spite before the demon could rush forward.

“Ah the new boyfriend I see,” she chuckled with a dangerous edge as she cast a look at the man being barely contained. “You always did have a thing for a pair of big brown eyes and nice ass. Good to finally meet the reason you let our city fall. Why there were enough Venatori to kidnap me in the first place. Thinking with the wrong head yet again.”

The color drained from Lucanis’ face. He didn't like what she was implying. And Rook was fighting through the pain as he tried to regain control of the situation.

“Leave Lucanis out of this, Fen,” he growled as he straightened while holding pressure to his nose.

The Detective could sympathize. She had been similar when Minrathous first fell.

Fen. Neve rolled the name around in her head. First impressions were that Rook and his sister had some serious family drama to work out. This woman was hurt, and lashing out at anyone she could.

Fen surveyed the chaos she had caused, a satisfied grin on her face as she slipped her hand in her pocket. “You may have these people fooled, Riley Mercar, but you can't fool me. You're still the same scared boy who ran off to the Inquisition when things got tough. Who abandoned me and the other Shadow Dragons. How long until you abandon them too?”

With the damage done she turned, disappearing out the door as everyone just stared after her.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Taash as they let Lucanis go.

The Crow rushed to Rook, checking him over before throwing a murderous look to the door Fen had just left through.

“That,” began Rook with a sigh. “Was Fennec. My sister. Fence for the Shadow Dragons and best spy I have ever met.” Lucanis growled at those words but the Qunari just ignored him. “And obviously we have some- things we need to work out.”

[iamthecomet]

comet... I'm thinking...

this and this, right?

what if he was in heat? what if he did have a plug in? and that was just the perfect opportunity to get something close to relief, a little hump against his bass and an additional grind of the plug???

most importantly, who put it into him?

this requires a ficlet, me thinks

Breakfast time, Hypnone! My eyes have been bugging out of my head about this one since you sent it. 1.4k of uh...whatever this is.

Full moons are torture. Rain has gotten used to this by now.  Standing on stage under the burn of the stage lights feeling like he’s coming apart at the seams. He’s dripping with sweat. Feels beads of it running down his spine. He doesn’t know how many times he’s wiped his hands off on his thighs. Fingers slipping on strings, nearly fumbling notes. But he’s well practiced at this by now. Used to it. Planning a tour is hard enough without having to account for an afflicted water ghoul. So, this, while uncomfortable, has become the norm.

His gut aches as he plucks at his strings. Mind somewhere else. Already in a cold shower. Spread out on the hotel bed, exposed to whoever feels like taking a turn. This one is worse than usual. It’s harder.

Swiss and Mountain ganged up on him before their set. Crowding up to him in the dingy dressing room. Fingers wiggling beneath the waistband of his uniform pants. Mountain kissing him breathless while Swiss fingered him, stretching him out, getting him ready. Rain had keened into Mountain’s mouth, begged for a knot that never came. Instead of relief, he got a plug. The minute it was fully seated Mountain and Swiss were gone. Backing away. Mountain pressed a kiss between his horns and told him to be good as Swiss grinned madly at him. Wiggling his slick finger as he disappeared out of the door, a promise.

Rain doesn’t remember most of the show. Going through the motions. Veins molten. Body shuddering with each step. Any intense movement grinds the plug against his prostate. Makes his vision flicker. He’s never wanted to cum so badly in his life.  When Dew slides up behind him during Year Zero he leans back against him, arching, pressing their masks together. Dew nuzzles him, tweaks a nipple. Rain can feel the shake of his laughter—and then he’s gone. And Rain feels his absence like a wound.

Rain likes this game. The way he has to fight himself. The way his packmates look at him across the stage. Ravenous. All of them.

Loves how it feels to stand in front of thousands of people and know that none of them have any idea what’s really going on. There is something about all those eyes turned to him—it makes it all so much better.

Aeon lingers around him for longer than usual. Swiss grins at him, fingers the air like a promise. Aurora and Cumulus reach out for him when he walks between their platforms. Cirrus drags her fingers over his chest at the end of her keytar solo.

They want him.

He’s given up on being subtle by the time Square Hammer starts. When Dew leans, so does he, pressing his cock against the back of his bass. Dropping one hand behind him to press against the plug, grind it a little further in. Just enough to hit a spot that makes him feel like his bones have turned to liquid. He locks eyes with Dew, catching the barest hint of Dew’s smirk through his balaclava.

A little more and he could cum from this. In front of all these people. He almost does.

But then the moment is over. Dew straightens, so does he. The pressure eases, but the burn doesn’t.

That last song feels like it goes on forever. He throws his picks in handfuls. Not aiming. Not even looking at the crowd. He hopes they gang up on him in the dressing room. Shove him up against the flimsy door. Fuck him hard enough to break it down. Any of them, all of them. At this point he isn’t picky. He expects something as they walk backstage. Attention. Someone to sidle up to him, to press open mouth kisses to his neck. To talk to him. Instead, all he gets is a rough slap on the ass from Dew as he walks by. Hard enough to jam the plug into his prostate. Enough to make his knees buckle. He stumbles, doesn’t fall. Dew looks back at him and chuckles. 

And then, nothing.

An empty dressing room. A quiet ride to the hotel. Sitting makes it worse, so he slides down as far as he can in his seat. Eyes closed. Tries to think about anything other than how agonizing the last twenty minutes have been. Tries not to think about begging Swiss to fuck him right here, right now. He can’t fucking wait any longer. And then they’re at the hotel. Nice like they’ve all been this tour. And Swiss and Mountain are flanking him urging him into the elevator, down a long hallway, into a room with one queen sized bed.

“Touch me."

They’re the first words Rain has said in hours. Eyes darting between Mountain and Swiss.

“Bet you’ll cum right away,” Swiss says, dropping onto the bed, toeing his shoes off. He lays back with an exhausted sigh.

“Y-yeah,” Rain agrees. Looking toward Mountain. “Please.”

“No fun in that,” Swiss says, face turned toward the ceiling. Rain wants to argue. Wants to remind Swiss, pointlessly, that he’ll cum as many times as Swiss wants, but Mountain crosses the room and pulls Rain into a kiss before he can get the words out. It’s sweet at first, but quickly turns filthy. Mountain licking deep into Rain’s mouth, claiming, hands on each of his cheeks holding him in place while he plunders. Rain can only whine, lean into it, open wider.

Swiss sits up on his elbows to watch. Hitches himself up on the bed enough to lean against the headboard and get a hand on himself. Palming over the zipper of his jeans as Mountain pulls Rain’s clothes off piece by piece. Fingers gentle over his overheated skin, mouth latched to his throat.

Rain doesn’t realize he’s naked until he is, rutting his cock against Mountain’s thigh. Chasing an orgasm that rushes up too quickly. He doesn’t see it coming.

But Swiss does. Pushing off the bed and coming to stand behind Rain. He locks an arm around his waist and pulls him back. Wrenching him away from Mountain and the only meaningful stimulation he’s had in hours.

“Get on the bed,” Swiss whispers in his ear, teeth grazing over the shell of it. Fingers digging into his belly.

Rain stumbles when Swiss releases him, but manages to get there. Tossing himself onto the bed, bouncing in a nest of soft pillows. He watches Swiss pull Mountain in by the collar. Can see the slide of their tongues as they kiss. Hips slotting together. Mountain whines.

Rain feels like he’s going to implode.

It's cruel, he thinks. All of this. They could have ended this by now. Knotted him. Relieved him of his static brain and heavy limbs. Of the way his blood feels like lava. He’s been hard for so long he doesn’t think he remembers how it feels not to be.

“Please,” he tries, but the word cracks and fails. He tries again. Louder. Swiss and Mountain pause. Swiss pulls back. Rain wants to taste the string of spit that still connects them.

“He’s been good,” Mountain whispers. Dragging his fingers through Swiss’ hair, holding him close. Rain leans against the headboard, cock kicking against his belly. Pre drying in his happy trail.

Swiss hums. Nips at Mountain’s lip.

“He’s so pretty when he’s desperate, though. We promised we’d wait for—”

There’s the sudden sound of a keycard in their door. Rain swears he can feel the click of the lock in his bones. His stomach flips.

Swiss looks at him—really looks at him, finally. Dark eyes narrowing, zeroing in. Rain doesn’t see who slips through the door before Mountain and Swiss are blocking his view of it. One on either side of his thigh. Swiss reaching between his legs to wiggle the plug. Mountain sweeps some of Rain’s hair behind his ear. He cups Rain’s cheek, gentle. A stark contrast to how Swiss drags the plug almost all the way out and slams it back in.

The door opens again. Rain barely hears it over the blood pounding in his ears and his own whimpering. But he knows who’s here now. His addled brain finally catching up. He can smell his pack—all of them. Eyes on him, dragging over flushed shaking skin. Hungry.

“Gonna take such good care of you tonight, Raincloud.” Mountain whispers, bending to kiss him. He tastes like Swiss.

“Gonna ruin you,” Swiss promises.  

Rain hopes they do.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

You're Special to Me | Us Too

You’re Special To Me is so? mmm I don’t have the words to describe it but. (it’s really good) (all your fics are really good but this one just hit the spot for whatever reason) …any plans for a second part with more comfort than hurt? where the others realize what they’ve been doing to Remus and make it up to him (and summon a mattress from the room and have a cat pile sleepover)? – anon

All I've got to say is: touch-starved Remus. That's it. In anything. Just poor Dukey needing a damn hug. (/nf) – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3323

The others have a nasty habit of comparing Roman and Remus. It starts to get grating after a while. Good thing Roman's always thought his brother was the best.

 

Logan comes up to him when he's in the Imagination weeding Ollie's pond. The Kraken rumbles and shifts in the water, making the reflection dance as he turns to see a figure with a large bag over its shoulder emerge from the mist. He stands up and wipes his hands on his overalls.

"Lolo? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." Logan finally steps out of the fog, holding one hand in front of his face as if to shield his glasses. "My apologies for intruding, but Roman said I might find you here."

"You found me, good job. Did you want something?"

"I was hoping we could talk."

A cool greyness far starker than the surrounding fog starts to creep into the edge of Remus's vision. "Talk? What about?"

"It's come to my attention that I've been very unfair to you. And by that I mean Roman gave me a kind reminder as to what it's like to have your work process judged, verbally or otherwise, and I'm here to make it up to you."

Remus blinks. Logan is here to what, exactly? And Roman did what? And Logan what? "What?"

Logan sets down the bag on a nearby rock and comes to stand next to Remus, who only then realizes he's wearing over-the-knee muck boots. "It was my fault for assuming that you and Roman would have similar processes because you are both Creativity. My response to realizing my error should not have made you feel as though your process is inferior or inadequate compared to Roman's."

"O-oh. Uh, I don't think you meant it, but, um, thanks?"

"Of course."

"Why're you…" He gestures to Logan's everything. "This?"

"Well, I was hoping we could have another brainstorm if you were feeling up to it��no pressure to say yes, obviously, this was not planned ahead of time—and I brought things to help."

"Help with the brainstorm?"

"Roman had mentioned you were looking to test the salinity of Oliver's pool in case you needed to introduce other creatures to his habitat," Logan explains as he opens the bag and unfolds it to reveal a series of vials and jars held in fabric sleeves, "and so I thought I would—"

"You made this for me?"

Logan pauses, looking up at Remus's disbelieving face. He huffs a laugh. "Yes, Remus, I made it for you. I was intending to leave it with you to do on your own time, but I figured as I had an apology to make—"

"You're forgiven, exonerated, whatever." Remus all but pounces on the bag. "Now shush and help me run some tests. Ollie! Get ready to throw your ball around a lot 'cause we got work to do!"

Logan chuckles and pulls out a notebook as Ollie trills in excitement, already fishing around in the kelp for his ball.

2.

"You got your gloves, right?"

Roman flexes his hand—his already gloved hand—and Remus rolls his eyes. "It's okay, I'm excited too."

"Shut up and let's get going. I want to try and have this ready for the afternoon."

"Shutting up!" Roman opens the Imagination door with a flourish and they walk out into a sunny field of lavender. The smell is nearly overpowering; if it weren't so pleasant, Remus might offer Roman something to plug his nose with, that's how strong it was. The last time his nose had been so thoroughly ensorcelled had been when— "Re? You okay?"

Remus blinks and sniffles. "Yeah. Sorry. Smell got me remembering Willow."

Roman joins him in the quiet as they walk through the field, both of them remembering the baby dragon that loved the flower fields so much when she was still a hatchling. The dragon had grown up and flown off to the Cloud Kingdom, somewhere high up in the Imagination that they could only get to on the back of Roman's dragon—so they didn't go very often anymore. The lavender rustles around their legs and does a great job of cheering them up when they finally find a spot to gather the plants.

"How much do we need?"

"Let's try and fill these baskets if we can, I think we need to have enough for both the glaze and the cake itself."

"Sure." Roman nudges him as they crouch down. "This was a really good idea, Re, I'm glad you suggested it."

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Oh, shoot—" Roman pats his pockets and stands up. "I think I forgot the stopwatch."

"You mean the one that we take into the Imagination each time so we remember what time it is in the rest of the Mindscape? That one? The really important one that we keep on the hook by the door—"

Roman cuffs him half-heartedly on the shoulder. "I'll be right back, you asshole."

"Love you too, Roro."

Roman walks back down the rows of the field as Remus gets to work. He doesn't bother with the gloves, not at first. His hands spend too often smelling of Kraken slime and other gross things, which normally he doesn't mind, but if he has the chance to smell of lavender instead, he'll take it. He falls into a soothing rhythm of plucking and pruning, the basket at his side growing slowly fuller, until a shadow falls across his lap.

"Ro, you're back, did you…?"

He trails off when he looks up and sees someone who is decidedly not Roman.

"…Pat-Pat?"

"Hey, Remus!" Patton looks around. "This place is really pretty. Did you and Roman make it?"

"Yeah." The flowers start to grey a little at the edges. "Did you see him on your way in? Is he almost back?"

"Yeah, I, um, passed him in the hall." He suddenly looks sheepish, fiddling with the sleeves of the hoodie tied around his shoulders. "He agreed to give me a few minutes to apologize to you."

"To what?"

"I'm not very nice to you," Patton says bluntly, "I know I'm not. It was—Roman was really upset with me over the whole baking thing. I didn't know—I didn't realize how it felt that I basically bossed you around for the whole time and you didn't even get to make what you wanted."

"…so you're apologizing for it?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm sorry, Remus, I was mean to you and it wasn't your fault."

"Uh, thanks." He drops another lavender leaf into his basket. "I appreciate that."

"Are you guys making something will all the lavender?"

"Yeah, we're gonna make a tea cake."

Patton claps his hands. "Ooh, that sounds really good! Can I help at all, or should I just wait?"

"I think you'd better wait, Patton, too many cooks and all that," Roman's voice comes over Patton's shoulder and Remus thanks everything he's ever made that his brother knows how to say the stuff he wants to say in the way where no one actually gets mad at him. "But we'll be sure to save you a big slice!"

Patton claps his hands and squeezes Roman in a hug before he's leaving the Imagination. Remus holds his breath until the door closes and then sags into Roman.

"I'm sorry," Roman murmurs, "I didn't realize he'd…I thought that'd be easier on you than it seems like it was."

"It's fine, it's not your fault. He's just a lot sometimes."

"Yeah, he is. But on the good side, I'm pretty sure that means you and I have free run of the kitchen all afternoon."

"Can we make him regret it slightly?"

"Oh, we can make him regret it way more than slightly—"

"Yes."

"—with how good this tea cake is."

Remus pouts and Roman laughs.

3.

"You look sad," comes Janus's voice from beside him as arms wrap around his waist, "so you're getting cuddled now."

Remus just turns his face into the crook of Janus's neck and breathes out, long and slow. Janus hums, setting his chin on top of Remus's neck and rubbing his back. They shift around a little to get elbows out of ribcages and knees out of groins before Janus starts scratching his hand through Remus's hair. Which isn't fair, and he knows it, because it always makes Remus want to tell him what's wrong, even when he doesn't want to.

Like now.

"I'm so tired," he whispers, the words leaving him with no small amount of shame, "I'm just so—I want it to stop."

"Want what to stop, sweetie?"

"This," he mumbles and bonks his head against Janus's chest, "this, this thing in my brain that won't shut the fuck up, I want it to go away and leave me alone."

"Do you want to tell me what it's saying?"

"No."

Janus pauses, then shifts up enough to press his mouth against the crown of Remus's head. "You be quiet in there, you here me? Don't make me put my angry gloves on."

The reference to a set of gloves Remus had made when they were younger, complete with snarling mouths that opened up when the palm was exposed, makes him laugh. Janus chuckles along with him, kissing his forehead and holding him a little tighter.

"You're doing so well, sweetie. Everything is a lot right now and you're dealing with it as best you can. You're going to be okay."

"I'm really tired, Janny."

"Then sleep." He shifts underneath him to lie down properly, Remus arranged atop him like some great weighted blanket. "You're nice and warm and I am excellent at cuddling. Have a nap."

"Right here?"

"Yes, on this couch, where we're both safe, where I can take care of you and steal all of that body heat you and Roman hoard to yourselves." Another kiss to his temple. "Do you want a blanket too?"

"Yeah."

A quick snap of Janus's fingers and there's a thick green comforter resting on top of them, not too heavy, not too hot, just enough weight and cover that some part of Remus actually relaxes underneath it. His eyes begin to drift closed against his will, something he knows Janus realizes by the slightly smug turn in the air.

"Shh, now," comes the soft voice, "that's it, sweetie, just go to sleep. It's alright, everything's alright, you're safe with me, I'll take care of you."

"I don't know when the last time someone hugged me who wasn't Roman was."

Janus is quiet for a minute. Then: "I hope you know I'm not letting you out of here until dinner time, and maybe not even then."

"Okay."

"And I might kidnap you to warm up my room since I've been getting cold falling asleep."

"Okay."

"And I might have to get Virgil to help me too."

"…okay."

"As long as you're aware of what's about to happen, sweetie."

"Mm."

4.

Janus does end up telling Virgil, which is how he ends up with a heavy lapful of Emo one evening when they're all lazing around before movie night. He'd sat down on the couch to finish digesting the insane about of spaghetti he'd managed to eat during dinner, and yelped when something landed on his lap, sighed, and squirmed around to get comfortable.

"Virgil?"

"Hey, Remus." Virgil grins up at him. "You don't get to be mad about me surprising you when that's literally all you do to us."

"I wasn't—okay, maybe slightly," he amends when Virgil gives him a look, "but…it's not like you do this, not to me."

"Yeah, well." Virgil shifts a bit more and one hand comes up to clumsily pat Remus's shoulder. "You and I haven't been around each other that much lately. I gotta make up for lost time and all that stuff."

"You do?"

Something flickers across Virgil's expression and he sits up, his face only a few inches from Remus's. "Yeah, Remus. We were—not as close as you and Janus were, but we were close. You used to sneak into my room to put on crazy shadow puppet shows and I used to run to you when I was scared of the thunder. And then I…left, and we haven't really been that close since."

"Because you made everyone think we didn't like each other."

He winces. "Yeah, I know. But I—hmm. I'm really trying to be better about that, Remus, I am. I really did miss you."

"You did?"

"Yeah." Virgil quickly glances around and leans closer. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Okay."

"The reason I started picking on Princey at first was because he reacted kinda like you did when I pushed Janus's buttons. He got all uppity and loud and it made me think of how you'd always pretend to be some weird knight riding to Janus's defense whenever I pissed him off."

Remus's cheeks flushed. He'd forgotten about that, when Virgil was being a pest and Janus was running out of patience, he'd jump in between them and start a play fight with Virgil to defuse the tension and get everyone laughing again. To hear—well, he'd known that Virgil got close to Roman for similar reasons—but something like this? Just because he missed Remus? And here he was thinking that Virgil was thanking his lucky black holes that he was away from Remus.

"I didn't know."

"I know you didn't," Virgil says, his voice softer now, "and I know you didn't think I cared enough to notice you were touch starved."

"Well—I—I didn't—I only—Janny said—"

"Janus said, Roman said, I thought." Virgil flops back down onto his lap, burying his face in his stomach as he wraps his arms around Remus's waist. "You get cuddles because you need them, and I give them to you 'cause I spent too many years pretending I didn't wanna."

"That was mean," but it's weak as Remus starts to sag into the warm embrace.

"I know, bud, and I'm done with being mean to you. Now we just get along unless we're play fighting, deal?"

Remus nods back, but his voice is too shot to make anything close to a reasonable response, and Virgil doesn't seem to mind.

5.

He's having another bad day when Roman sinks into his room and carts him back off to the Imagination, this time picking one of their favorite rooms in the high castle. It's all warm grey stone and warm wooden floorboards that've been sitting in the sun all day, pillows and blankets tossed about the room for making temporary mattresses. He sags into Roman's side and refuses to budge when Roman insists on getting some of the blankets and pillows.

"In a second," he laughs as Remus whines in protest, "just let me go for two seconds and you'll be happier, I promise."

Remus pouts but does wait the few seconds for Roman to throw something together. Then he just lifts his arms like he's a toddler asking to get picked up. Which he does, and he's tossed unceremoniously onto the pile of pillows. He bounces and Roman laughs at his surprised face.

"Come on, no pouting," he teases, lying down in the blankets too and pulling Remus into a cat pile, "let's just enjoy the sunset, okay?"

Imagination sunsets are the best. There are always a ton of pretty colors, always enough strategically placed clouds to keep you from being entirely blinded, and they last for just as long as you want them to. The one today they can see through the wide windows of the high tower is no exception. Rich blues and purples chase the reds and pinks around the sky, the clouds airbrushed with the most delicate versions of the colors as the sun slowly descends over the hills. There's no risk of mugginess this high up, nor any biting insects thanks to the constant breezes around the top of the tower. Remus feels his eyelids growing heavier and heavier as he sinks into Roman's embrace.

"Hey," Roman whispers and he hums something in reply, "you're the best brother ever, you know that?"

"No, you."

"No, you." Roman squeezes him around the middle and presses a gross, smacking kiss to his cheek. "And I love you."

"Don't get all sappy, Ro."

"Sunsets are sappy times, Re! Besides, you've had a really long day and that means getting cuddles while I tell you how much I love you 'cause you're a great brother."

"You mean it's the time you try to kill me with sap overload."

"Semantics."

Remus swats half-heartedly at him and his drama queen of a brother yelps like he's been struck with a whip, but he can't keep the smile off his face.

Roman loves me. He really, really loves me.

It would be a very different world if he didn't have such an amazing brother.

+1.

There are still bad days where he doesn't feel like getting out of bed or talking to someone who isn't his brother.

There are more good days. Days like this, where he gets to spend it surrounded by his family.

"Shush," Virgil mumbles, swatting Logan's leg with a pillow as he tries to go on another rant about a certain trope that Remus never caught the name of, "it's sleep time."

"You're going to fall asleep on the floor?"

"Right, good point. Princey?"

"Coming right up." Roman snaps his fingers and the familiar giant mattress appears in the middle of the living room, much to the delight of Virgil and Janus, who both sprawl onto it like overgrown kittens.

"You both need to make some room," Remus grunts as he shoves at an errant leg, "c'mon, let the rest of us on."

"Ooh, I want Remus cuddles today," Virgil mumbles, only for Janus to snatch him. "Hey!"

"Too slow."

"Children," Logan scolds, reaching out and ruffling Remus's hair with a wink, "I could've sworn we talked about consensually abducting cuddle victims."

"I'll fight you for him," Virgil declares, already reaching for a pillow, but Patton grabs it instead. "Hey!"

"No," Janus whines as Patton joins in the playful fight for Remus cuddles—when Remus himself is more bemused than anything else and Roman and Logan are just smiling, the useless wonderful bastards— "get your own Remus! This one's mine!"

"That's all of our Remus, you have to share!"

"Yeah, give us each a limb or something."

"No, I want the torso!"

"I want the head," Logan remarks casually with another wink when Remus blushes, "but I think Roman would prefer we kept his brother intact as much as possible."

"You can share," Remus gasps out eventually when he's getting battered with pillows, "I wanna cuddle all of you!"

"Well, if that's what he wants—"

"Who are we to say no?"

Janus just chuckles as the four of them quickly make themselves at home in the middle of the blanket, arms slung over Remus until he can't quite tell whose limbs are whose. But the warm pressure and familiar scents of all of them right here, safe, under the blankets are sending the everything good, sleep now signals that his brain is having a hard time ignoring.

So maybe he won't ignore them and he'll just fall asleep.

He makes eye contact with Roman before his eyes slip closed properly and the last thing he sees is Roman's soft grin.

There will be good days, there will be bad days.

But Remus never feels truly grey ever again and for that, he's happy.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[downbadperture]

Hello my good sir, to whom which I have never interacted before in my entire life. I would simply like to request from your wares, perhaps some Space core X reader headcanons, specifically maybe either android or human design space core x reader headcanons. Perhaps even maybe some Corrupted core in general(Rick, Fact and Space) X reader hcs ...... If you choose to answer this ask I will be humbly grateful and possibly in your debt.

Hello good anon, and yes I will get to these! We need more people who have your fine tastes. Goodbye good shar- I mean everyday human with gills and sharp teeth. I'm making these guys androids cuz that's funner.

Android!Corrupted Cores x GN!Reader Headcanons!

Space Core!

~ No-one knows why you went for him.

~ Very physically affectionate! Like he'll ramble incomprehensibly for hours at a time about space while cuddled in your arms and laying his head on your shoulder. Not many people actually listen to him as much as you do, so he finds a lot of comfort in being around you.

~ This includes hugs. Lots and lots of hugs. Since he's made of metal it can sometimes be painful when he runs up and hugs you from behind while pressing his face up against your back. But you bare for his sake.

~ If you actually mention something about space, showing that you actually retained what he's said to you about the wonders of space, he'll actually start overheating and steam starts spewing out of him.

~ He constantly about talks about you two going to space together. He even drew you guys in a rocket ship in space on a whiteboard with sharpie once.

~ His petnames about you are space related, always, no exceptions. He even just straight up calls you Space sometimes despite that being his name as well, he just loves you so much that space feels like the only proper petname for you. Sometimes he'll just default to calling you sun because you're the center of his solar system.

~ He giggles hysterically whenever you kiss him

~ If you fall asleep on him, he'll just hum or talk to himself while holding you until you wake up.

~ Makes up space songs for you two to sing together, mostly preexisting love songs that he just parodies to be about space. You sing so loud that it echoes around the facility

~ You're the only one who really understands what he's trying to say all the time, sometimes acting as the translator for him when Space can't help but add space related words into a none-space conversation

Rick!

~ Constantly has an arm around you or is holding your hand

~ Flirts with you CONSTANTLY. Like he'll work a pick-up line or compliment into every damn conversation you have with this guy. As long as it gets some sort of reaction out of you, he'll keep doing it.

~ Though if you give him the same energy back, he'll try to brush it off like "I know that darlin, mighty sweet coming from you though," and hopes you don't notice the steam spewing out.

~ Constantly tells you stories from his 'adventures', while you just sit back and humor him for a bit. He genuinely thinks you believe the stories about him beating up 100 ninjas with nothing but his bare fists or when he tells you the story about how he single-handedly blew up Black Mesa.

~ Protects you from danger to try and impress you even if it's just a turret on the other side of the room and facing the opposite way.

~ Speaking of which, he is constantly trying to impress you. If not stories, it's him throwing himself into meaningless danger like a Turret shooting range and you being forced to repair him.

~ If he has a hat (and of course he does), he'll put his hat on your head and say "Well ain't that cute,".

~ The ultimate hype-man. He has actually does think very highly of you and respects you in his own way. So if you're doing something, especially if it revolves around fighting, he is CHEERING for you if he was forced on the sidelines. Constantly yelling to check for pressure points, to kick whatever's ass, trash talking the opponent, telling you to hit harder because he knows you can do it.

~ Though if it's something outside of fighting and action, something he doesn't really understand the appeal of, it'll sound like he's being passive aggressive at first but it's just because he doesn't really have a filter and does genuinely think you're good at whatever you do but doesn't know how to word it. But after some time passes, he'll just word the compliment like "You're kicking ass, sweetheart!" even if it's something super chill.

~ He picks you up bridal style and carries you whenever he can

~ He asks for kisses a lot too if he thinks he did something badass. Y'know that one meme where it's like "Has never kissed anyone before vs expecting tongue". His kisses are a combination of those two things because his only real references are from action movies.

Fact!

~ Unlike Space and Rick, he is not as physically affectionate. It would take him a while to actually initiate physical contact, which is probably like the most awkward hug in the world or him just pressing his mouth to your cheek. Not even kissing, just pressing his straight lips to your cheek and dryly going "mwah". He's trying is all I'm saying

~ But most often he just pats your shoulder or head, he makes sure to be careful since human skulls are allergic to metal.

~ His form of compliments would come in the form of facts. Like he would say your eye color means you would be inherently better then other people or that humans with your face are statistically more good looking then other humans.

~ When Fact says that "Fact: The Fact Sphere is the most handsome sphere" and you confirm it in some way, he just stays silent for second and process. Suddenly you start hearing fans.

~ Whenever he would go on his Fact rambles, no matter how correct or incorrect the information is, if you ask questions about it you might actually hear a hint of enthusiasm because you were actually listening to him.

~ He tries to memorize every single aspect and trait about you. To your favorite color, favorite food, your hobbies, your habits. But then the corruption kinda jumbles the information up a bit, and kinda gets those traits skewed. Like he'll give you something that he thinks is your favorite color, but in actuality it's the color that's opposite of your favorite color. But he is convinced that he's getting all the information right.

~ You're the only person who he'll ask questions for if he's interested in the topic you're talking about. He likes gathering information from you because he deems you a reliable source of information. Because outside of himself, you're the most intelligent being he knows.

~ Despite believing he is the sphere best suited to be a romantic partner, he reviews his data base every once in a while to see if he's "meeting quota to being a good partner"

~ He tries to give you petnames but there always kinda wonked up like instead of baby he called you "Infant", and instead of sweetheart he called you "Salty Esophagus".

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 9: 24/7 DYNAMIC [FABIO QUARTARARO X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Fabio and dom!reader. If you're under 18 or uninterested in this, then scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you read here, check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different motorsport person with a different kinky thought, and that thought will be discussed more through answering asks on my blog. So if you read this and have some thoughts of your own, feel free to stop by!

Fabio absolutely thrives when he can do 24/7 dynamics with you, when he can just exist with you in a subby headspace for days at a time, focusing only on being a good boy and listening to you. He thrives on praise and love and when you give that to him, he's as happy as can be.

This is by far his favourite way to spend time between races, because it allows him to train and prep for races without getting stuck in his own head? Before you, Fabio had a bad habit of overtraining and getting lost in the pressure and trying to better his riding to the point of exhaustion during races. He just... he wanted to be good enough.

But now his training is worked into 24/7 days with you. His trainer and riding coach give him his clear schedule and diet for the period, and fabio hands it right over to you. He doesn't make his own schedule or decide when he rests or decide when he trains or what he eats. That's for you to decide. His only job is to be a good boy.

His trainer is a little confused when suddenly he's told he has to speak to you about when fabio will be training instead of with fabio himself, but then he meets fabio for the first one of those sessions and he's so so much happier? He's so settled and pleased and does so well and from there none of his trainers question you at all because it's clear that whatever you're doing is making fabio very happy.

He gets all giddy and excited for days leading up to when he knows he'll have some 24/7 days with you, because he's so excited!! The poor thing has had such a stressful season, trying so so hard to be good and failing time and time again because the Yamaha is just not good enough to allow him to succeed.

Which is why having longer 24/7 dynamic periods are so important this year in particular, because he desperately needs some section of his life where he's still good? He needs to do well, needs feel good in something.

And there is nothing that makes him feel better than when you kiss him softly and call him a good boy.

The moment he gets home, he's dropping his bags onto the floor and throwing himself in your arms. You have to catch him or else you'll both go toppling down onto the floor. And so you immediately have a very happy fabio in your arms, giggling and clinging to you and pressing kisses to your neck because he's so excited!! A whole week of no thoughts!! He's so ready!!!

You gently part from him, welcoming him home and giving him a nice kiss before instructing him to unpack all his bags. You sit on the bed and watch him while he does this, because you know he loves having your eyes on him. He's so happy, smiling to himself as he unpacks even though he usually hates unpacking because you told him to! He's listening to you! He's being a good boy!!

Once that's all done, you praise him for being so good and take him to the bathroom to shower together. Needless to say, he starts to get hard cause he's showering with his dom!! You wait until after the shower to give him some relief, giving him a soft hand job while he sits between your legs and whines directly into your ear.

The rest of the week follows the same pattern, with fabio just listening to whatever you tell him to do. He gets fucked so hard he can't remember his own name every night, and then wakes up to breakfast and goes throughout his day just following you.

By the end of the week he's like a whole new person, so much more certain of his own abilities and feeling so much better about himself because he's a good boy! He's your good boy.

[thezombieprostitute]

Frayed - Part 2

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life is almost always in danger. 

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Implied death and violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

The heat wave hit hard and it affected your work almost as much as Mace's. The free clinic received an influx of people suffering heat sickness and it was all hands on deck. Your job priorities quickly changed to focusing on the machines that helped patients with temperature regulation and hydration.

You also found yourself helping out with some of the kids of patients. They were often scared about what was going on and rarely got answers. You and one of the nurses would provide or fix up toys to help soothe them a bit. You did enjoy showing the kids how you were fixing their electronic toys. Some of them would hold your arm tight as you showed them what you were doing. It broke your heart but there were a lot of people needing help and you had to do your part.

By the end of your shift, you're exhausted physically, emotionally and mentally. You just need to get home and collapse.

Mace's day hasn't been any better than yours. The heat wave was putting a lot of pressure on the power grid and a lot of residents were feeling it. There were a number of power blinks throughout the day, throwing off everyone's air conditioners, sometimes even circuit breakers. Some of the residents, whether out of desperation, idiocy, or anger, tried fixing things themselves, only making them worse.

He hated that he had to text you that he wouldn't be able to pick you up. The work was keeping all of his employees busy. When you read the text, you're disappointed. You didn't want to walk in the heat and humidity at all. But you recognize his work as important. Thinking about all the people that visited the clinic and how Mace is doing his part to keep more people from having to go.

You decide you're going to go ahead and treat yourself to some ice cream at one of the restaurants along the way. You've worked hard and you deserve a treat, dammit. The ice cream parlor is surprisingly, but thankfully, pretty empty. Just you, a few customers and some teens working behind the counter. The ice cream and quiet atmosphere really help you to feel better. You figure Mace could use some cheering up of some kind as well so you decide to send him a joke.

“Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're CuTe.” It's a dumb joke, but hopefully it'll help him smile.

As you wait for his reply, someone sits across from you. You try not to gape at the scars on his face. He's big and tall with dark hair and one blue eye. The other is white, likely a result from whatever scarred him so horribly. You set your hand on your purse where your taser is.

“Your testimony led to a friend of mine getting killed,” he says with an accusatory tone. “Tell me who killed him and your safety is guaranteed. You're just a pawn, after all.”

“No one got killed because of my testimony,” you state. You really don't know what he's talking about. Your testimony saved lives. Mace, Scott, Teach, none of them said anything about problems or killings while you were on the stand.

He leans forward and your hand goes into your purse, gripping your taser. “I suppose they wouldn't have told you,” he sighs. “Just tell me a name, someone who kept you safe, and I'll leave you be.”

“I was protected by the police, witness protection. Standard stuff,” you partially lie. It was Scott and his team at first. They didn't need The Family's help until it was discovered there was a mole.

He turns his head to the side a little, giving you a very good look at that bad eye. “I suggest you think over your loyalties. When you're ready to tell me something, come back here.”

He gets up and leaves and you finally let yourself breathe. It's all you really can do.

You know you're being watched. If you text or call Mace, he'll run over to get you but that would put him in danger. Possibly more than just him. You decide to text Teach. A call would be overheard and you want to keep this as contained as possible.

Well, what you really wanted was to cry and run home but the logical part of your brain was being put in charge. It's part and parcel with being employed by The Family. And that's what you had chosen all those months ago after the trial.

Message Teach, wait for instructions. You can do this.

Mace practically pounded the door to the apartment. Curtis had called and told him what happened and that you were being kept safe at their place. The second there'd been a lull in work orders he dropped everything to get to you.

As soon as Teach opened the door he pushed past her and grabbed you while you were getting up off the couch. He held you tight and you finally let yourself cry knowing you and Mace were safe.

“Why didn't you call me,” he gently chastises you.

“Because you'd be spotted and they'd know you were in on everything and then you'd be in danger and I didn't want to risk that.”

He chuckles, “even when you're scared you're thinking logically. I love that about you.” The hug is interrupted by Curtis giving a small cough. Mace turns to Teach, “sorry about rushing past you.”

“It's okay,” she assures. “I very much understand. And so does Curtis.” Teach smirks at Curtis as his glare towards Mace lessens with the accepted apology.

You and Mace sit down on the couch as Teach and Curtis pull up chairs.

Curtis starts, “from the description DC's given us, we know the man who approached her is August Walker. He was a lackey for Kent but must've recently had his leash loosened.”

“Makes sense,” Mace replies. “Kent's too busy working on his reputation and lawsuits to keep hold of everyone who works for him.”

“There's still something I need to know,” you speak up. “Walker said someone was killed because of my testimony?” Curtis, Mace and Teach exchange looks. Their silence speaks volumes and you filled with rage and horror. “What the hell? Why didn't you tell me?!” You pull yourself away from Mace and start pacing the living room.

“The less you knew about it, the less culpable you were,” Teach says as gently as she can.

“No,” you argue, “the less I know, the more open I am to surprise, the less capable I am!” You turn to Mace. “You knew about this, too, didn't you?”

“Yes,” he admits quietly.

“My testimony was supposed to help people, not get them killed!”

“If it helps,” Curtis cuts in, “the man who was killed was a bad man.”

“How do you know?”

“He was an assassin from Wilford & Gilliam. He and his brother killed my brother.” Teach gently rubs his hand in an attempt to comfort him. This isn't information he shares with just anyone.

You sniffle, still angry. Still scared. Still overwhelmed. You look at Mace, “I...I can understand why you didn't tell me any of this. But I'm going to be mad at you for some time.” Mace nods in agreement. You turn to Teach and Curtis, “so what do we do now?”

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tagging everyone who had asked to be tagged in Sparks Fly. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the list.

@alicedopey; @chibijusstuff; @delicatebarness; @fluxxdog; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @rebekahdawkins; @ronearoundblindly; @texmexdarling

[wandafiction]

Touch - Just Us Chapter 42

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, PTSD and Mentions of Surgery

Word Count: 3384

Series List | Chapter 41 | Chapter 43

================================

(Wanda PoV)

I got a message from Nat telling me to come back in, which was weird because I thought she was going to come out. I look back to where Carol, Tony, Pepper and Morgan are in the waiting room. They want to wait till Y/n has spoken to Dr Raynor to see her because they don't want her to feel pressured into speaking. We also had a nice conversation about Y/n and how we all agree she puts others before herself way too much but that is something we can all work on helping her with. Not that we don't love her for looking after us, but it hurts to see that she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and is trying to deal with everything and not let people in. Thankfully she has opened up to me a bit, which Carol informed me was great progress for Y/n especially after only knowing her for a month. 

I'm proud of that fact. 

Anyway back to our schedule programme.

I knock lightly on the door, hearing Nat's voice quietly beckon me inside I almost melt at the sight of Y/n wrapped in her arms. The flashback or episode, whatever we call it, must have taken a lot out of her. I smile lovingly at the pair as Nat plays with the end of Y/n's hair her arm wrapped around Y/n's shoulder the other over her waist, while Y/n's head rests in the crook of Nat's neck. Its quite a funny sight to see because Y/n is over a foot taller than Nat, yet here she is being the little spoon for once: which makes the reality of the situation hit hard realising how small she looks with her body curled in on itself. My poor baby. 

"How was it?" I perch myself on the edge of the bed as I drag my finger up and down Y/n's calf.

"It was good. She opened up quite a bit to me, more than I thought she might." Nat turns her head to look at Y/n a small frown forming on her face as she looks back at me. "I don't like that Steph woman." 

"You and me both Nat." I join Nat in frowning as I think of her and what she has put Y/n through. "What did she tell you about her ?" 

"Just that she would hit her, she didn't say it was abuse but I sort of gathered from her none answer to my questioning. She also mentioned how it started of great with Steph but soon turned into something else." I could cry at the idea of someone hurting Y/n like that, she is so sweet and caring. To use that against her when she was in such a bad place is fucking abysmal. If I ever see her I don't know what I will do, but it most definitely won't be pleasant.

"Anything else?" Y/n shuffles in her sleep her brows furrow slightly making my worry spike.

"No nothing else." Nat turns to see what I'm looking at her face morphing to worry as Y/n starts moving about more, and Nat loosens her grip on Y/n so not to hurt her but her arms still in place just in case. 

"Y/n baby?" A small whimper leaves her mouth her brows almost touching in the middle as Nat starts to stroke around her face trying to get some reaction from her.

"Y/n, I need to wake up." Y/n's body jerks slightly mine and Nats worry growing. 

A few seconds later Y/n's body jolts from Nat's arms, both of us too slow to react as Y/n falls off the bed onto the hard cold floor but it doesn't seem to faze her. Her eyes are tightly shut as her hands scratch at the back of her shirt trying to pull it over her head. Without another moments hesitation I jump from my spot, slowly making my way over to her as to not scare her by accident. She hunches her body over as she finally grips onto her top pulling it over her head and throwing it on the floor, her hands moving up and down her back and then to her front. I hear Nat gasp and realise she has never seen Y/n's scars before, well I guess this is one way to find out about them. 

"Y/n can you hear me." I ever so slowly bend down in front of her making sure all my movements can be seen by her, even though her eyes are shut. "Baby?"

I see her nod, that's a good sign. That's better than what we were getting at Tony's office. I place my knees on the floor so I am matching her slouched height her arms still roaming her body.

"Baby can I hold you?" I hear a small whimper as her hand touches the scar by her ribs. "Y/n, I know it's hard to hear me and concentrate but I can't do anything without an answer." 

"Please." Her tears are a starting to fall to the floor and it's taking everything in me not to cry, it is not what she needs right now. "Please touch my scars I need to know nothing else is there." 

"Okay. Im going to do your back first. Is that okay?" I want to make sure she knows my every move so I don't cause a trauma related reaction. 

"Mhmm." It's all I need to place one hand at the bottom of her neck, where the scar starts before tracing the scar ever so slowly with my fingers putting pressure on it so she can feel my hand. I make it halfway down her back when her had shoots up to hold my wrist, my movements immediately stop but she simply pushes my hand into her more. As I look at my hand and the scar below it I realise it's not just one scar here but maybe two or three. I've never noticed it before because it looked more like a skin blemish or something. It's just a few inches to the right of her spine so I use my other hand to put pressure on that one and her hold on my wrist instantly relaxes. 

I look up to Nat with tears in my eyes, but when I feel Y/n's hand let go of mine I continue my journey down her spine, now noticing more and more scars as we go. I've never actually taken the time to look at them, take them in.

I mean that and she is pretty much always on top so I don't get to look at her back. Not the time Wanda! I know, sorry.

When I make it to the bottom of her spine her body relaxes a lot, her arms wrapping around herself like she is trying to protect herself from something. She leans upwards, her eyes fluttering open for a second before closing again, but not as tightly as they were. She opens her mouth to say something but all that comes out is a croak, so instead she pats the ground behind her. Instantly I get the message, but I keep my movements slow and steady. Once I am behind her I move my legs from under me so they are either side of her my ass on the cold hard flood but I don't care at this point. I look up to Nat.

"Go get Dr Raynor she is in the waiting room with the others." I ask Nat, hoping she will understand that Y/n may not fully let go until she is outside. I feel horrible to have to kick Nat out but I also feel like Y/n won't release her emotions if someone else is here. Hopefully she trusts me enough to let go in front of me, because I don't want her doing this alone. 

"OK, I will be back in a minute." Nat gives me a simple nod before slowly making her way off the bed and out of the room.

Once she has gone Y/n pushes her body back into me making me gasps at the sudden movement, not expecting her to react so quickly to a change in the environment around her. Her back is pressed hard against my front, her head on my chest as most of her body is laying on the floor. She grabs my hands pulling them around her body, pulling my right hand down to the round jagged scar just below her right ribcage. I move my hand slightly putting light pressure onto it, the movement of my hand against the sensitive scarred skin causing a few goosebumps to arise but Y/n seems to completely relax in my hold. Her hands rest against mine as she pushes her fingers in between mine, her finger tips resting in my palm while her palms are on the top of my hands. 

"I've got you dorogoy. You're safe." I rest my lips and chin against the top of her head as I speak into her hair practically.

It takes a few more minutes for her body to stop shaking with emotion, her eyes becoming dry but remain red raw while her cheeks are tear stained. It breaks my heart to see her like this, but I'm glad that I can do something to at least help ease her out of it: even if it's as simple as drawing random shapes or words of affirmation she has me. Her eyes are still shut and have been since she fell off the bed. Oh shit, yeah, she fell of the bed.

"Dorogoy you didn't hurt yourself did you? That's quite the fall you took?" Her eyes flutter open at my question, her head tilting backwards so she can look up at me and I smile at the sight of her and those extraordinary eyes. She shakes her head lightly at me as a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

"No, maybe a sore butt. However, nothing else seems to be hurt or broken which is good. I didn't end up with a black eye this time." She huffs out a laugh as I lean down to give her a kiss. 

"That's good then. Dr Raynor and Nat should be up here any second. Do you need help getting back into bed at all?" 

"I will be okay, could you just pass me my top please." Her eyebrows furrow once more, I hate that look on her face it makes me pout. "Sorry, just, did I take this off in front of Nat?"

"You did yeah. But she won't ask questions unless you want her too." I have a question of my own but don't know if now is the right time to ask so instead I ask something else. "Why did you need me to touch your scars?" 

"I had a dream, or I guess you could class it as a flashback. I was back with Sarah and my daughter, then I was in hospital hooked up to wires. It was like an outer body experience while I was in the hospital, I couldn't feel what they were doing to me but I was outside my body watching in. I saw myself on the operating table with my spine being operated on. When I woke up in a daze, I needed to make sure it wasn't real. Trick my brain back to reality."

"So the pressure of my hand on your scars, allowed you to realise that's all that is there and that you definitely weren't on the operating table." 

"Yeah." Y/n pushes herself up from the floor, me following closely behind to make sure she doesn't stumble. She climbs back on the bed tucking her feet under the covers, patting the small space next to her as she leans against the back of the bed. I beam at her and move to sit next to her, I move my legs under the covers but rest them on top of Y/n's. She puts her top back on, then lifts her arm up so I can lean against her as she wraps it around me pulling close. We relish in the moment as the room is engulfed in a comfortable silence, just our soft breathing can be heard. 

There is a small knock at the door, and through the small pane of glass I can see Nat and another woman who I can only assume is Dr Raynor. Y/n waves them in, trying to keep the room quiet for as long as she possibly can. Nat notices the silence so makes her way to one of the seats by Y/n's side of the bed giving both of us a small smile before we all turn to look at Dr Raynor. She smiles at Y/n but turns to me holding out her hand.

"Hi, you must be Miss Maximoff? I'm Dr Raynor, but I go by Christina." I happily lean forward shaking her hand in mine.

"Yes that's me, Wanda is fine please." She gives me a polite nod, turning back to Y/n.

"So Y/n I heard you had a bit of a hiccup today?" Y/n shuffles to sit up straighter dragging me with her slightly so I can remain happily leaning against her.

"I had two actually." Her voice comes across more confident than I expected it to, and I have to hide the proud smile that wants to break out on my face, because smiling right now? Probably not the best timing.

"It's good that you can admit that. Did it happen just now?" Christina keeps going even though me and Nat are still present and I'm not sure how I feel about it, shouldn't this be something between the two of them. 

"I had another flashback, fell off the bed, ripped my shirt off. Sorry about that Natasha. Uh, Nat. Then Wanda helped to ground me. Now I'm here, comfortable and calm." Y/n says it so naturally it's like it's rehearsed, maybe it is to a point. 

"What was the flashback?" I see Nat shuffle slightly in her seat, and Christina seems to notice because she changes her question. "Do you want your friends to be in the room for this session?" 

"Yes." The word rolled off her tongue effortlessly, making me smile up at her leaving a small peck on her jaw. 

"What do they know?" 

"Not enough." I lean my head back to look at her face, disappointment written all over hers.

"Why not?" 

"Didn't get around to telling them." 

"Y/n." Dr Raynor's voice is stern, and it sort of reminds me she is just that Dr Raynor. None of this Christina bullshit, she is Y/n's doctor not a friend. If she wants to be addressed by her first name, that's fine but not from me. 

"I don't know." Y/n's voice almost sounds like a child who is being scolded by her parents.

"Y/n." That's all it takes for Y/n to snap.

"I'm scared okay!" She sucks in a breath at her words as she looks between me and Nat, a pleading look in her eyes. 

"So I will ask you again, do you want your friends here for this session?" 

"Yes." Dr Raynor smiles and nods, bringing the spare chair from the corner of the room to a few feet in front of the bed. We can still see her easily but I guess we only really need to hear her anyway.

"Why?" Is the first thing Dr Raynor asks after situating herself on the chair.

"Why what?" Y/n tries to hide her irritation in her voice, but it can clearly be heard.

"Why do you want your friends in this room?" 

"Firstly, let me correct your statement. Wanda is my girlfriend, Natasha is my friend. So that means your question should be 'Why do you want your people in this room?'" I rest my hand on Y/n's thigh giving it a small squeeze, so she brings her free hand down to hold it and I can see Nat smiling at Y/n's words.

"Okay so why do you want your people in this room?"  

"Because they need to know." 

"But why can't you tell them later?" I get that Dr Raynor is a very skilled and highly recommended therapist but my God do I want to bang my head against the wall with all these questions, I would lose my patience at her and shout. But this isn't about me, so I can't. 

"Because I won't have the strength to tell the story twice so close together." Me and Nat turn to look at her, and she bows her head at the admission. 

"Ladies, you seem to have questions. Go ahead." Dr Raynor opens up the floor to us while Y/n seems to be collecting her thoughts.

"What story are you making her tell?" Nat is the first of us to speak.

"Y/n is going to recollect the day of the accident from start to finish. We have been working on training her brain on desensitisation. So when she has a reaction to something she can normally gain control back easily and ground herself. Today caused a lot of past trauma to resurface so when she tried grounding herself the copying mechanism didn't work because her brain completely shut down on her. So by making her tell the story it's like kick-starting her brain, because we will use her coping mechanisms throughout the story." Dr Raynor explains it in a way that we can understand and so we know everything that is about to happen.

"When you say past trauma, do you mean just the accident or do you mean her ?" It's the first question to pop into my mind after the explanation.

"If by her you mean Steph. Then yes, the way Y/n's brain and body react to things is due to the trauma which was not only caused by the accident but by Steph as well. Now I will not go into detail but it wasn't great for Y/n's PTSD for obvious reasons. So even though this may feel like a massive step back in progress I can assure it's not. It's the first time in a long time since we have had one of these episodes, and after being in zero contact with Steph for over 7 Months it has helped a lot. Anymore questions before we continue?" 

"Just one." Dr Raynor looks at me motioning for me to continue. "Is there anything more we can do to help make sure we don't trigger, I don't know if that's the right word. But to stop us from doing something that can trigger a trauma response? Or some way that I can help her during an episode as she called it, where I don't have to ask if I can touch her because she doesn't always hear it when I ask." 

"The word is trigger. Y/n doesn't have many but she has a few. We can discuss after she tells the story and I can give you some information on how to teach Y/n's body how not to react to yours so you don't always have to be so careful with your touch. It will also allow her subconscious to recognise your touch and should help ground her more. It can take a while, and at times be frustrating when you feel like it isn't working. But we can work on it if that is what you both want?" 

I turn to look at Y/n, wanting her to make the decision whatever she is comfortable with doing even if that means not doing it. She looks up at Dr Raynor then to Nat then to me a smile playing on her lips.

"It's what I want. I want Wanda and Natasha to be able to help me." Dr Raynor notes something down in her notepad before facing the three of us.

"Let's get started."

================================

[underforeversgrace]

the monster I hide

DannyMay 2023 Day 13: Monster

title: the monster I hide

words: 1922

Complete

Warnings: None!

AO3

Summary: It's been two weeks since the Accident and Danny is struggling to come to terms with some of the less desirable side effects of dying - and he feels like a monster for it.

~~~~~~

Of all of his abilities and the side effects of his accident two weeks ago, this was probably his least favorite. He hadn’t noticed it at first, the pressure that nearly felt suffocating against his face. When he realized it, what it was he was feeling, he hated it.

He hated what he had become, what he was. Sam and Tucker kept trying to insist it was cool, what he could do. At the least, it was nothing bad. Sam liked to talk about how unique it made him, Tucker about all the shenanigans he could get up to once (if, in Danny’s opinion) he managed to get control of his powers.

But this? This was too much. It felt wrong, it felt invasive.

It felt intoxicating, it felt like a siren he couldn’t resist the call of. Which just made it even worse - feeling like he was giving into a yearning his ghost half was calling for, leaving him simply a monster without control.

Danny was tired of feeling like a freak. Even more so, though, he was tired of feeling everyone’s feelings. He hated the hunger it stirred up in his stomach that refused to be sated no matter how much real food he ate, no matter how much ectoplasm he stole from the purifier and forced down his throat with a gag.

But it was hurting him, too. His continual denial of what his ghost demanded was making him so tired, so hungry, so irritable.

It had taken him a few days to realize what the discomfort was, especially since those first days had been painful. Every nerve in his body had felt hypersensitive. The pencil in his hands felt like fire against his flesh, everywhere it touched. His fingertips, his palm, the space between his thumb and forefinger. Wearing clothes hurt, fire ants biting into his skin with every soft brush, especially along the scars he had to hide, scars that forced him into long sleeves and a jacket despite it being August.

He would forever be grateful flight had been the first thing to come to him with ease, so at least he had been able to slightly hover over his seat, over his bed, over the ground, the pressure of putting his weight down and subject to gravity was akin to walking through hot embers the first few days.

So he thinks he can be forgiven for not noticing the hunger pains at first when literally just his existence hurt.

It had been at Tucker’s house, playing video games with him for the first time since the accident - his hands had finally stopped hurting - while Sam read behind them, that he first realized it. The pressure in the air had begun to taste good, he hadn’t even realized he’d opened his mouth and was inhaling whatever it was from around him.

“Dude, are you panting or something?” Tucker had asked.

Danny, though, had been… he imagined it was what drunk felt like. He felt a little dazed, the world felt a little slow. And he wanted more.

“Danny?” Tucker asked again, throwing a pen at Sam to get her attention. Danny hadn’t responded. His head felt… float-y. Pleasant. Peaceful.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked, moving to stand behind him, glancing at him worriedly as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

As their moods had shifted from contentment and happiness to worry and concern, Danny had shifted as well. His chest constricted painfully, pulling his attention to the so-slow-it-was-nearly-nonexistent heart beat, something he very much tried not to think about. A taste like expired milk settled on his tongue.

“Something’s wrong.” He’d said, clutching at his chest. The fear they’d felt next had made his heart race and burnt his mouth with the taste of cinnamon.

It had taken several minutes and a lot of circular emotions to figure out what was going on. Guess having a best friend who was a goth and way too into anything and everything creepy and weird was a helpful thing to have after dying and coming back as a half-dead freak. She’d realized he was eating their emotions, his ghostly side half starved after a week without sustenance. He’d quite literally gotten drunk with happiness, unable to control his hunger on an empty stomach.

Despite their reassurances that it was fine, that it didn’t hurt them and they just wanted him safe, Danny had felt gross. He was stealing people’s emotions, eating something other humans made.

He had been determined to never eat feelings again. He would not give in to his ghost side. He was human.

He. Was. Human.

And he was in control of the ghost. Not the other way around.

So he forced down the urge to let the pressure absorb into his skin, kept his mouth closed tightly whenever he was around other humans (because he was human, they were other humans!). Now a week since the discovery and two weeks since the accident, his stomach felt like an endless pit, clenching painfully as it begged for anything. Danny tried to give it food, ate so much even his dad noticed, but the hunger did not stop. Physically, he felt full. But it was like he had a second stomach now, one made of something more metaphysical than physical. But the pain, the stabbing hunger, felt no different.

Apparently, being a starving half human with some ghostly… needs… was quite difficult in a high school, though. Especially right now - during the first major test of the year - panic, worry, exasperation, cluelessness, delight, confusion. The pressure around him was so strong he couldn’t even see the paper in front of him. All he could focus on was the need to eat.

The need to be a monster.

He felt a poke to his side and looked over, seeing Tucker subtly holding out a note while Lancer’s back was turned. Danny accepted it, likewise eyeing the teacher while he read the note, in Tucker’s handwriting.

Have you eaten? Not normal food. The special kind.

Danny wanted to swear. Was it that obvious? Could everyone see the boy they called a freak was worse than they could ever imagine? Internally, he sighed as he shook his head. There was no use lying. They’d known each other since they were children, of course Tucker - and probably Sam - knew he was off.

He saw Tucker and Sam glance at each other before frowning at him, Sam quickly scribbling a note and passing it to Tucker. Tucker read it, nodded to Sam, then handed it over to Danny without adding anything to it.

Please eat, Danny. We don’t mind. It hurts us more to see you in pain than you eating does.

Danny just shook his head fiercely. He wouldn’t. He would not give into the monster inside him.

They looked at him pityingly but didn’t push. By the time the final bell rang and the teacher grabbed his test, Danny still hadn’t written anything on it, unable to focus on anything other than hunger and pain.

“Meet me after school, Mr. Fenton,” the teacher said before walking away. The taste of exasperation tried to edge its way against the edge of his mind but he forced it away, focusing on getting out of his seat, a task harder than it should be.

Seeing him struggle, Sam and Tucker propped him up and helped him out of class. He’d assumed they were going to their next class and let them pull and push him along, zoning out slightly. Danny was thoroughly surprised, then, when he heard a door being pushed open and was unceremoniously dropped onto the ground in the dark, the door immediately shut behind them.

A light being flicked on temporarily blinded Danny and he covered his eyes with his hands, groaning as his budding headache flared.

“Eat. Now.” Sam said, sitting beside him.

“No.” Danny managed, keeping his eyes covered.

“Why won’t you eat, dude? You’re not actually hurting us or taking anything from us. You’re just hurting yourself.” Tucker agreed, squatting in front of Danny.

“Humans don’t eat emotion. I am human.” Danny responded.

“We know. We know it’s hard but -“ Sam started.

“You don’t know what it’s like being a monster!” Danny snapped back, glaring at her, barely noticed the odd look on her face. Even he could feel the chill as the temperature in the room dropped, which just caused anger and irritation to further increase within him.

“You’re not a monster, Danny. It was an accident and now you need nutritional supplements. That’s it. Just because your parents think ghosts are bad doesn’t mean it's true.” Tucker said, reaching forward and placing his hand on Danny’s knee. Danny turned to him, still glaring. “What -“ Tucker continued, suddenly falling backwards away from him.

Danny immediately reached for him and grasped his arm to keep him from fully toppling over. “Tuck -!” As soon as his bare hand touched Tucker’s arm, though, Danny’s breath caught as emotion surged at the contact.

In an instant, Danny began feeling better. While Tucker’s emotions were tinged with panic, loving concern was the main thing Danny could sense. Sam, apparently seeing the way Danny paused and relaxed, grabbed his other hand. He relaxed further and Tucker tightened his grip, settling down and sitting as well.

Affection, worry, care assaulted his senses but not in an unpleasant way. The biting hunger began to abate and control over himself returned. “Wait, no,” he said, trying to pull away from them. Simultaneously, they both used their free hands to grab his arms, increasing the physical contact.

He’d be willing to bet his model rockets collection that they were specifically channeling certain emotions to him - love, joy, hope the top among them.

“Let us help, Danny.” Sam said softly at his side as he clenched his eyes closed, warring with himself over how good it finally felt to eat versus how wrong it felt to be doing something so inhuman. “We helped you end up like this, Danny. You’re not a monster and if you were then Tuck and I are just as bad for encouraging you into that portal. Worse, even, at least for me. If you’re a monster for being different, what am I for making you into one?”

Danny could feel the sincerity in her words, felt it warming his very being. And finally, he stopped resisting. He let his friends shower him in emotion, let them feed his starving soul. They grinned as he relaxed, sitting closer to him, each keeping both of their hands on him.

“I don’t like feeling like I’m not in control of it. Of my ghost.” Danny admitted. “I don’t like it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control. No one controls hunger, Danny. Just look at Tucker!” Sam said, smirking at Tuck.

“Hey!” He said, an over exaggerated look of shock on his face. “I have control! It’s just that I’m not exactly opposed to not being in control all of the time!”

The three fell into laughter and for the first time since the portal had set his very being on fire, he felt content. He was safe here, he was accepted here. Whatever had happened to him, whatever he had become, whatever other form he hadn’t slipped back into yet, he was loved. And he needed to let the ones he loved help him.

“So, did you know your eyes turn green when you’re upset?” Tucker asked after several minutes.

“They what?!”

[krikeymate]

Fictober 2023: Day 28: “I may not get another chance to say this.” - Sam isn't ready to say goodbye. Fandom: Scream Rating: T Warnings: None.

➖

The mask staring down at her looks like all the others, yet all Tara can see is a smirk, wide and grinning and euphoric.

And why wouldn’t they be? They’ve won.

They’ve actually fucking won.

You’d think she’d be used to this by now, the pain that sets her veins alight, how hot blood is as it seeps out of the stab wound and over her desperate clutching fingers.

No amount of pressure is going to stem this tide when she has only her hands at her disposal.

She wishes her sister was here, Sam would know what to do. Sam always knows what to do.

Oh Sam.

She’s going to kill her.

This is going to kill her.

Tara shifts as her body slips a little further down the wall.

Fuck.

If she falls, that’s it, she knows it. She’ll never get back up again.

Ghostface knows it too.

They laugh at the pathetic sight before them.

It’s uncomfortably loud, reminding her just how alone they are. How there’s no one to help her. No one to save her, not this time.

“Where are my manners?” they drawl, modulated voice controlled and calm.

An act. It’s only ever an act.

Some sociopath pretending to be a master of their own fate… or hers, until something goes wrong and the screaming child comes out to play.

She wishes it would, then she might have some sort of chance.

“Here,” they say, holding out a hand.

In their gloves palm sits her phone, screen flashing with notifications.

It feels too good to be true.

This is just another game, another way to toy with her.

Ghostface throws it at her feet.

There’s a crack, but the screen continues to light up with a fresh fracture down the middle.

All she can do is stare at it, tears welling in her eyes in frustration. It’s so close, but it feels a million miles away. She can’t bend down to reach it, she can only…

“Condemned prisoners get a last meal, don’t they? Well, I think we’re a little past that, so how about a phone call instead?”

Fall.

She drops to her knees, blood-slick hands uncoordinated and clumsy as they try to grip at her phone and answer the current call, Sam’s smiling face lighting up the screen.

“Sam!” she cries, falling forward, as the call clicks open.

She can barely breathe, through the pain, the dizziness, the relief.

“Tara? Tara where the hell are you?! We’re all worried sick, why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?”

It’s all she can do to sob into the speaker, Sam’s frantic voice fading to a background noise as her vision blackens for a moment.

“Sam. Sam listen. Please listen.”

She pauses, breathing heavily, as the buzzing quiets.

“I may not get another chance to say this.”

Sam tries to interject, but Tara can’t wait. She doesn’t have time to comfort Sam right now.

“I forgive you.”

Tara squeezes her eyes shut. Somehow the tears burn worse than the blood.

Sam’s been asking for forgiveness ever since she returned into her life, and Tara’s never hesitated to give it. She didn’t need to hear that there was nothing to forgive, she needed to know she was forgiven, for whatever crimes it is that lurk in her mind.

Who’s going to absolve her sister now?

The thought hurts so much worse than any stab wound.

“Tara, where are you? Please, just tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know Sam, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m–”

Tara screams as a boot slams down onto her hand, crushing the phone beneath it, glass and plastic splintering against her skin.

“Oops,” Ghostface hums, stepping back and tilting their head at her. “I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy sometimes.”

She curls into a ball, one hand plastered against her stomach wound, the other clenched against her chest, wishing he would just shut up.

Inside her a part of her screams, telling her to turn around, to look at them, to never turn your back on an enemy.

It’s an easy thing to ignore, she’s been ignoring her own mind for years.

What more can this asshole do to her? She’s dying. Slowly. Just the way they designed it.

“Don’t worry, Tara,” the voice coos, a hand petting against her head. “You won’t have to die alone, I’ll be right here with you.”

For the first time in her life, she wishes she was alone again.

Across the city, Sam stares down at her phone at the call ended screen. It takes a few seconds to process.

The moment she does, she’s spinning around.

“Did you get it?”

“I got it, let’s go,” Kirby replies.

I’m coming for you Tara, she promises. Just hold on.

[apathetic-dry-rot]

Wilting Nerium- Chapter 3: Sex, Drugs, Ect.

Lawrence Oleander x AFAB!GN!Reader

CW/TW: Mild smut, drug consumption, panic attack, wlw-coded, hallucinations, mentions of marijuana and alcohol consumption (Not by reader)

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the content in this fanfic or game in real life!

Lawrence Oleander belongs to Gatobob

NOW PLAYING: Sex, Drugs, Ect. by Beach Weather

The only bad thing about working at a nature reserve is once you’ve been left to die in the woods, you kinda get a bit anxious when in a forest. However, I knew these woods. These were my woods. I don’t have anything to fear at work.

Work is the one place where I’m truly safe.

The readjustment was a bit difficult, but I needed to get back to my job, for both the money, and the fact that if I didn’t, I was gonna go fucking crazy.

It was a relatively simple job, but I’d been doing it for years, so of course it’d be simple to me. I was in charge of checking up on all of our tagged wildlife and making sure that none had gotten killed by hunters or poachers.

It was a soothing routine, but as per usual in my life nowadays, there was something different.

One of our stags had been attacked. By something much larger than anything we had on the premises, and it’s highly unlikely that any predator from outside the reserve wandered in and went for the stag itself.

“Something got Milo?”

Milo was one of the four stags we had at the reserve, and the most docile, which makes the whole situation even more weird.

“Yeah. Uh, whatever it was was pretty big. Bigger than anything that uh, we’ve got here.”

Lola was a nice coworker, on the shorter side with short, poofy auburn curls- almost like an afro, and had wide, light brown doe eyes. Also her smile was entirely too bright and she had a short temper, but she loved the animals and never pressured me into talking or anything, so she was good in my book.

She let out a melancholy sigh, running a thin hand through her boingy curls.

He’d never go after someone like her, she’s far too intimidating for him, and-

Stop. You’re at work. This is the only safe space left.

“Down to three, then, I guess. How unfortunate.”

The frown wrinkled her face in all the wrong ways. It looked unnatural on her.

Luckily, she quickly ‘turned that frown upside down’ and grinned at me, not much different than a cheshire cat.

That smile was almost as unsettling as her frowning.

My name slid off her tongue slyly, she was planning something. She wanted something from me.

“Hey, I’m throwing a party this weekend, if you’re interested.”

I must’ve not been hiding my emotions that well on my face because she scrambled to convince me.

“It’s gonna be super small, just a few coworkers and some of my friends, no more than like, I don’t know, thirty people, maximum. If that, even, I swear. Just stop by for like, half an hour and you can leave whenever you want, I just…”

She sighed softly, her face filling with concern. I know where this is going.

“I was hoping to get you some fresh air, in a more societal setting after, y’know,” she gestured slightly at me, her eyes trailing the visible scars on my neck, face, and arms; “Everything you’ve been through.”

I exhaled deeply, rubbing my wrists.

“I’m not sure, Lola.”

I don’t know what she was thinking, I couldn’t look straight at her, like she was the sun, it was hard to look anywhere near her general direction.

“Please, just for a little while, you don’t have to stay for long, I swear to you.”

Awkward silence filled the air as I discreetly shuffled towards the door and shifted my weight back and forth on my legs. My hand held the doorknob tightly, knuckles white and twisting the cold metal.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

She beamed, I didn’t even have to look at her to know it, I could feel her overjoyed grin radiating sunlight throughout the room.

“Yes! Sounds great!”

I furrowed my brows and glared slightly at her tiny button nose, not looking her in the eye.

“No promises, though, okay?” She practically pirouetted past me, giving my shoulder a light pat as she went by.

“I’ll be looking forward to it!”

At least Lola was right about the size of the house party being small, but this place absolutely reeked.

Of weed. And other drugs.

I’d worn simple clothes: a black tanktop, light blue high waisted jeans, my old black Doc Martins, a green flannel. Enough to not look like a hobo, not too much so I’d look like an overachiever.

It wasn’t too loud inside either, just some 80’s rock playlist playing for ambience in the background, humming of chatter in different rooms as people mingled with one another.

And here I was, alone.

I knew this was a horrible idea. I should’ve just stayed home.

I sort of just stood there for a few minutes before making my way into the kitchen, where I walked through an almost heavenly cloud of marujuana smoke lingering in the air.

“Hey there, stranger!”

I nearly jumped all the way out of my skin as a hand clasped around my left shoulder and tugged me into the side of a girl a bit taller than me.

Her physique was lean and slightly muscular, with a strong jaw and sharp nose, her eyes mismatched colors of olive green and honey brown, with a light dusting of freckles adorning her cheeks, and long golden blonde hair reaching to her waist.

Aka, REALLY FUCKING PRETTY.

Oh, shit I’m staring-

“Oh, uh, hi. Sorry.”

She laughed, soft and sweet and I could feel the heat rising to my face because ohhhh myyyyy god, she’s so gorgeous and her laugh is perfect and adorable and-

Her hand landed on my shoulder giving it a small squeeze.

“My name’s Aiden.”

I cleared my throat and held my hand out in greeting.

Do people even do handshakes anymore? I mean like, it’s 2023-

She shook my hand gently, and I wanted to collapse.

Oh fuck, my name. Dumbass you’re introducing yourself, you need to tell her your fucking name.

“Uh, I’m-”

I could hear my name being called from the living room, causing me to freeze in my spot, Aiden and I both turning to the source- Lola- her strong and lightly calloused hand not leaving mine.

I repeated my name slowly, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah, that's… that's me.”

Lola looked between the two of us as she approached, gasping excitedly and gesturing at Aiden and I in a wild fashion.

“Oh my goshhhh! You guys are getting alongggg! That's so totally fucking awesome, my besties are befriending each otherrr!”

She's high as shit. Probably drunk, too. I mean, it is her house, she has every right to get crossfaded if she wants. 

Aiden let out a noise of realization, squeezing my hand and patting it lightly with her other hand, grinning wider before releasing my- probably sweaty- palm from her grip.

“So you're the coworker from the reservation that I've heard so much about? It's so good to finally put a face to a name!”

I let out a nervous laugh before nodding with a small ‘yeah.’

Lola dragged us off, parading us around the house, encouraging me to open up to a few people, and no one was sober enough to recognize me.

Which was actually a huge relief that helped me talk to them. They couldn't pity me if they didn't even know who I was.

Intoxicated people are funny.

At some point I had been offered a sort of gray-brown, shriveled up lump, causing me to turn to Lola, who was next to me on her sofa, Aiden resting her legs on my lap lazily.

“What… is this?”

Lola giggled slightly.

“It’s shrooms, y’know?”

I hummed, rolling it around on my hand while debating.

“If you don’t wanna like, eat it, you could brew it into a tea, I think.”

A shiver crawled along my spine, the scar on my neck tingling, and I shot the brunette an uneasy smile.

“I’ll just eat it the normal way, thanks.”

She laughed, lightly hitting my shoulder as I put the mass in my mouth, my face scrunching up at the odd taste, making Aiden chuckle in amusement.

I coughed after it went down, the blonde reaching onto the floor next to her, handing me her water bottle for me to take, my name falling from her mouth like a small blessing.

“Here, to wash it down.”

I took it from her, our fingers brushing slightly, making me melt inside at the smoothness of her hand against mine, finally taking a gulp from the plastic Dasani bottle.

It tasted oddly familiar.

I shook the thought away, this was neither the time nor the place to be thinking about him.

I’m at a party, not a therapy session.

I turned to Aiden, my hands absentmindedly rubbing her shins.

“How long does this shit typically take to kick in?”

She shrugged, her perfect face serene, hair falling over her shoulders.

“Dunno, usually ‘bout half an hour. Varies from person to person.”

I let out a hum and nodded, zoning out at the sound of her voice.

Closing my eyes and leaning back, I sighed and picked off the loose hairs I felt on her pants.

After a while, things felt, wobbly.

It felt laggy, like a video game.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking around at my surroundings.

Everything was in slow motion. Lola was gone.

It was just me and Aiden in the room.

Alone.

She mumbled as she sat up and tucked her legs underneath her, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“Huh…?”

She leaned towards me, I could see all the freckles dusting her cheekbones and nose.

“I said you look confused. You okay?”

My eyelids drooped, her soft breath against my ear warming up my neck and face.

“I… think so.”

She feels so soft, like velvet.

“Your hands are pretty, y’know.”

She giggled, and I felt my temperature rise a few degrees.

“Yeah, well your face is pretty.”

My eyes snapped up to meet hers, her face only inches from mine.

“All of you is pretty, actually.”

I let out a small noise, akin to a whine, as her lips hit mine slowly, my eyes closing while I leaned into her, my hand tracing her jawline.

Oh, fucking god-

Her hands gripped my hips, moving me to straddle her lap as she moaned into the kiss, my lips parting slightly, her warm tongue darting to move against mine in response.

Aiden began stroking my stomach with her thumbs, filling me with butterflies and making me shiver against her, heat flooding my body as I whimpered into her, her hands squeezing the plush of my hips, holding me down.

Her lips left mine, trailing down my cheek to my jawline and neck, my small noises louder without the muffling of our frantic kissing.

“You’re so sensitive, baby.”

I groaned at her words, my fingers moving to grip her shoulders.

“Can’t help it… been a while, and you’re too perfect.”

She chuckled against my jugular, nipping at my throat softly, causing me to groan, one of my hands coming to grip the hair at the back of her neck, a moan escaping her lips.

I grinned, pulling her hair back slightly, testing the waters, her gasp on egging me on to return the favor and attack her neck with little nips and open-mouthed kissing, her small noises of pleasure fueling the fire in my abdomen.

“Fuuck, sweetpea-”

She cut herself off with a soft moan as I hummed against her throat while sucking hard at her skin. I dragged my tongue over the forming bruise in my wake, causing her hips to buck up into mine.

I leaned back to admire the red and purple blotches on her skin, sliding my hands under the hem of her shirt, looking into her eyes, silently begging for permission to take it off, her shivers and frantic nodding of her head prompting me to ease the fabric over her shoulders and head before tossing it to the side.

“Perfect, so beautiful.”

I latched my lips onto hers once more, moving my hands to palm at her bra-covered breasts. She moaned against me, her hands finding my hips again, grinding me down against her, controlling my movements while my fingers tangled themselves into her hair and tugging. She slid her hands up the back of my shirt, scratching at my lower back with need. I pulled away from her again to shrug off my flannel and tug my shirt off, the two articles of clothing join hers on the hardwood floor before moving to kiss the skin of her chest, sucking bruises into the soft plushness of her tits, taking care to bite softer than on her neck, her hand finding my hair as she threw her head back in pleasure, her figure looking divine, my head swimming from the drugs, the only thing I could think of was how perfect she felt against me. I moved back up to her lips slowly, moving my hips against hers as she continued digging her nails into my back, a groan leaving me with a shiver. The hand in my hair slid down my neck, tracing the car there making me squirm at the feeling, my brain trying not to scream at the negative memories associated with it. I leaned back and opened my eyes, only to find that her eyes weren’t the green and golden brown from before, but now a steely shade of gray-blue, her hair lightening to a straw-colored blonde. My breath hitched as my body flung me onto my back on instinct, my body colliding with the floorboards with a very loud thump, my eyes flooding with tears that began streaming down my face.

“Oh, fuck I-”

I struggled to breath, wiping at my eyes, blinking at Aiden, who had moved to the floor, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder, my skin crawling as I flinched at the contact.

She looked like herself again. Oh god, I fucked everything up again.

“I-I’m sor-sorry, I can’t, I-”

She shushed me, brushing hair out of my face.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

I sobbed, hiding my head in my hands.

I fucked up, I ruined it, everything was going so well, fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

“I- I need to go home, I’m so sorry.”

She helped me put my shirt back on, handing my jacket, reassuring me that it was okay and that she wasn’t mad.

Liar, I ruined everything, just like always.

She had Lola call me a cab before giving me her number as I apologized profusely.

The ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, the lights blending together unnaturally, trailing behind each other.

My apartment was dead silent when I finally got home.

Good. I’d probably cry if I heard noise right now.

My body and mind cried, aching to lay down in my warm bed as I changed out of my clothes, slipping into green flannel sweats and a black t-shirt.

After finishing my nighttime routine, I flopped into my bed, cocooning myself under my blankets, sighing as the warmth and exhaustion caught up to me, dragging me under the surface of the dark slumber that awaited me.

Word Count: 2546

[mamayan]

Fat Gum (Toyomitsu Taishirō) Headcanons!

(I love some good yandere content, but I just can’t see this man ever becoming a yandere. He’d sooner never love again than force you into anything. If he really snapped and progressed as a yandere, he’d be the type to silently watch over you for the rest of your life if you didn’t reciprocate his love.)

SFW Headcanons:

• This man is a cinnamon roll in the streets and a cinnamon roll in the sheets.

• He’s the most likely to fall in love with you for your personality… and taste in food. Looks really aren’t all that important to him, but he enjoys if you compliment him! Tell him how nice it is to lay on him or snuggle, it makes his whole week.

• This man is literally the best date you could ask for, no need to worry about where you’re going or what your doing and especially what you’re going to eat. It’ll all be amazing.

• His hero work does take a lot of time away from your relationship, but he’s not one to ever neglect or ignore you. Dates can and will be done on video chat, sharing a meal and evening together even if you aren’t physically close.

• Buys you all the stuffed animals, books, video games, whatever hobby supplies you could ever want. His love languages are physical touch, gift giving, acts of service, and words of affirmation. He’s literally full of sugar I swear.

• Don’t think he’s a doormat though, he’s a classic Osaka man and has a temper (it usually only comes out when he sees or hears about something unjust or awful, but it can happen if someone cuts in line while he’s waiting for Takoyaki, or you telling him about a co-worker or customer being rude to you at work).

• Gives amazing foot rubs for such big hands, perfect pressure application.

• Traditional in dating. Likes the flowers, candies, dates, and all the mushiness of romance and love. Will likely take you on a multitude of dates before ever even kissing your cheek.

• He’s nearly 30, this man isn’t looking for a quick fling. He’s looking for his future, and if he’s dating you, it’s with serious intentions.

• If you nap on him, he’ll treat it the same way as one does when a cat sleeps on them. He’ll be careful even breathing to not wake you. Might snap a couple pictures too.

NSFW 🔥 MDNI ⛔️ :

• He’s 8’2, which means he’s not small even when he’s burned through all his fat. He’s an enormous man, and has an enormous cock, without a doubt. It’s not even the sexy big either, it’s the “Need 3-6 months of training and prep to take it” sort of vibe. He’s so cautious with sex it’s put many off in the past, but he cares more about your comfort and pleasure than his own. I love him seriously

• Once you have worked up comfortably to taking him, and he’s less afraid of harming you, it’s on. Cry all you want, Taishiro is a giver through and through, and give he will. He loves to overstimulate you, leave you begging for him to stop because it’s all too much only to throw you over the edge again. Rocking into you, keeping you absolutely stuffed, while he whispers praises in your ear. “So good, aren’t you sugar? Takin’ all of me, ngh, so well.”

• Say goodbye to normal aftercare, after this man destroys your insides (literally) you will be forced into his delicate care afterward. He’s got massage oil, pain meds, a doctor, the bubble bath and ALL the snacks.

• He loves the size difference but won’t say it out loud. You could be in the next lineup as a pro basketball player and look like a little kitten next to him. He adores it. It’s also cute holding you up by the hips and lifting you off the ground to rail into you, when he’s tired of laying down and you riding him. He’s scared to smush you, so this is a safe way to fuck you good and well. Just lift and impale

• He will snack on you like none other. Sit or lay on his face, he insists. His tongue alone could fuck you, it’s got insane girth and power.

• He doesn’t love blowjobs because he can’t see you over his belly. Maybe if he’s been forced to use his fat, he’ll happily accept if you offer. He just wants to see you struggle to take his big cock╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

• If you want him to cum quickly, go ahead and tell him how badly you want to get filled up. “Tai, please, I need your cum… wanna be full” or something pornographic like that, he’ll bust so fast-

• He’s big into lovin’ on you and making sure your calories get replenished after. Expect the BEST aftercare, whatever and anything you want. He’s internally moved by your willingness to take him, it’s an honor to him, really.

[euphoriabled-memes]

So Much (For) Starters.

All starters are lyrics taken from the album So Much (For) Stardust by the band Fall Out Boy, released March 24, 2023. Please feel free to change as you see fit. ( Seeing as I’ve made this meme the day this album came out, some lyrics may be incorrect. My apologies! )

Love From The Other Side

“You know I'm dying out here.”

“What would you trade the pain for?”

“You were the sunshine of my lifetime.”

“I'd never go, I just want to be invited.”

“Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse.”

“Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand.”

“Nowhere left for us to go but Heaven.”

“Give up what you love before it does you in…”

Heartbreak Feels So Good

“No matter what they tell you, the future's up for grabs.”

“Is there a word for bad miracle?”

“Nobody said the road was endless.”

“Could we please pretend this won't end?”

“We could cry a little? Cry a lot?”

“We could dance our tears away, emancipate ourselves.”

Hold Me Like A Grudge

“When you ask how I've been, I know you mean well.”

“I guess I'm getting older 'cause I'm less pissed.”

“Silent killers are these years coming like waves.”

“You put the ‘fun’ into dysfunction.”

“Hold me like a grudge.”

“The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up.”

“Part-time soulmate, full-time problem.”

“I guess, somehow, we made it back.”

“I am a diamond on the inside, just add the pressure!”

“I thought I knew better, I thought it would get better.”

“I figured somehow by now, I would have got it together.”

“We'll do more than just get by.”

Fake Out

“Make no plans and none can be broken.”

“Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?”

“Do I just need more therapy?”

“Love is in the air, I just gotta figure out a window to break out.”

“My mood board is just pictures of you.”

“I'm not sad anymore.”

“We did it for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change.”

Heaven, Iowa

“Kiss my cheek, baby, please.”

“Would you read my eulogy?”

“I will never ask you for anything — except to dream sweet of me.”

“I will never ask you for anything.”

“Tell me when the party ends.”

“Will you still love who I am?”

“They don't know how much they’ll miss.”

“Save your breath; half your life you've been hooked on death!”

“Be careful what you bottle up.”

“I'm saving this all for later.”

So Good Right Now

“We'll drive until the engine just gives up.”

“I know I've made mistakes, but at least they were mine to make.”

“I'll be whatever you need me to be.”

“I cut myself down to whatever you need me to be.”

The Pink Seashell

“There's no point to any of this, it's all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes.”

“I take pleasure in the detail, you know, a, a Quarter Pounder with cheese? Those are good.”

I Am My Own Muse

“I like playing dumb, letting you figure me out.”

“I was faded, in my own defense.”

“We got to throw this year away.”

“The trumpets bring the angels, but they never came.”

“I know I keep my feelings so tucked away.”

“Just another day spent hoping we don't fall apart.”

“Let's twist the knife again like we did last summer.”

Flu Game

“I guess to you now, I'm just a face in the crowd.”

“Oh, God, kindly please, would you kill me now?”

“Carved out a place in this world for two, but it's empty without you.”

“I've got all this love I've got to keep to myself.”

“All this effort to make it look effortless.”

“I can't be who you need me to be.”

“Every candle's gotta run out of wax.”

Baby Annihilation

“Time is luck, and I wish ours overlapped more.”

“The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath.”

“I'm just melted wax on a birthday cake, another year fades away.”

“If you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself.”

“What is there between us, if not a little annihilation?”

The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years)

“I'm pretty sure, as far as humans go, I am a hard pill to swallow.”

“I spent ten years in a bit of chemical haze and I miss the way that I felt nothing.”

“Passed my old street, the house I grew up in. It breaks your heart.”

“Four of the Ramones are dead.”

“And I miss the way that I felt nothing.”

“You don't know me anymore.”

What A Time To Be Alive

“That’s the way the world used to be before our dreams started bursting at the seams.”

“I don't care if it's pretty.”

“The view's so pretty from the deck of a sinking ship.”

“Everything is lit except my serotonin.”

“Please, I just need someone to hold me.”

“Oh, what a time to be alive.”

“They say that I should try meditation, but I don’t want to be with my own thoughts.”

“I just want to be your cherry on top.”

“when I said ‘leave me alone’ this isn't quite what I meant.”

So Much (For) Stardust

“I feel like something that's been stretched out, over and over again.”

“I don't have the guts to keep it together.”

“Life is just a game, maybe.”

“I'm stuck in a lonely loop.”

“I need the sound of crowds, or I can't fall asleep at night.”

“Another year of possibilities left unwrapped like gifts the day right after Christmas passed.”

“I'm pretty positive my pain isn't cool enough.”

“I think I've been going through it.”

“In another life, you were the sunshine of my lifetime.”

“I used to be a real go-getter.”

“I used to think it'd all get better.”

“We thought we had it all.”

[erdogan-nevra]

Left Behind

Date: March 16th and beyond

Locations: London, Porto

Medea was silent in the chair next to her. Or as next to her as she could be as they were in separate pods across the aisle. She doubted the woman wanted to talk but even if she did, it would have been drowned out by the constant thrum of the airplane.

Nevra had never demanded anything from the Rutherfords in the entirety of her employment. They likely would have given her whatever she asked for, within reason, but she had never taken advantage of that. Advantage of their generosity and what giving it to people meant. Most would mistake it for loyalty or comradeship. A chance to tell the people who worked for them that they cared when really it was a chance to show the rest of the world how much fucking money they had. 

Fine, let them throw it around. The eleven hour flight would be more bearable in first class. 

~

“Wait, I’m coming. Wait, wait!” The knock had been soft at first but grew the longer she took to disentangle herself from her blanket cocoon on the couch. The hallways of her little cottage was already narrow and when Sabir zigged the same time she did, Nevra found her knees slamming to the carpet. She shook her head and nudged the dog away, talking loudly before she even opened the door. 

“I didn’t think you’d come thi-”

Ayaz. Not who she’d expected to see but Nevra smiled nonetheless. Maybe he’d remembered her birthday as well and was bored enough to come wish her so in person. She crossed her arms and put on a small pout. 

“I hope my present is hiding somewhere in your coat because I don’t see one and I’ll be honest, if you didn’t get me anything, I might just cry.”

It took her three more beats to understand that he wasn’t there to wish her a happy birthday. 

What was that look on his face? 

“Ayaz?”

“Nev, let’s go inside.” 

She didn’t know why but her heart started racing as he put a hand on her back and shut the door behind them. 

~

We will be landing in Porto Velho in twenty minutes. Please have your arrival card and any items to declare ready and in hand.  

She could feel Medea’s side eye and decided to ignore it. Neither were traveling as their namesake and both had only a carry on. A few changes of clothes was all that was needed for this trip. 

The plane rolled into port with a soft bump. Nevra was on her feet in seconds. 

“Easy there.” Medea’s voice snaked through her consciousness, squeezing uncomfortably, suffocating her with its very presence. 

Ayaz had suggested the woman come with her and when Nevra had told him she didn’t need a babysitter, he shrugged. Yet her arrival at Heathrow and the sight of his ex-wife told Nevra enough. They didn’t trust her, not right now. Not with-

Nevra smiled at the customs worker. When they’d gotten off the plane and ended up here was beyond her. Everything blurred together now. “No, nothing to declare. Just here for a business trip.” Her face remained calm and inviting. Learning to play different parts had been one of the main skills she’d learned as an assassin. She’d never imagined she’d be using it in her daily life just to reassure people she wasn’t going to throw herself off a bridge. 

Medea was next to her again. The Turk could feel her resisting the urge to take her elbow and guide her to the car that was waiting outside. Both women knew what would happen if she touched Nevra. She’d practically bit her head off at Heathrow to prove it. So unlike her. Then again, none of her actions had been like her the past few days. 

What would he think of it all?

~

“Nevra, did you hear what I said?”

Dead. 

Dead. 

Dead.

The snap of fingers echoed in the air. 

The person she’d chosen to love was dead. 

The person who had chosen to love her was dead. 

He was dead. 

Fingers wrapped around her wrists, pressure building each moment she kept silent. 

She had always been the one to leave when things came down to it. Her community, her friends, her fiancé. Nevra always made the choice. It never made it any easier but she had always been in control of who entered and left her life. That way she always knew who to blame when those horrible days eventually showed their faces. 

Who could she blame for this? 

Not herself. 

The drug dealer? Absolutely.

The women and men who joined him for god knows how long until he’d been the unfortunate victim of a bad batch? Sure.

Kerem and his anger, his unfuckingreasonable anger toward their situation? If she tried hard enough. 

Not herself though. 

But Berat…

“Nevra, come back.”

No, she would never, could never blame him. She had chosen him and she wouldn’t blame that person. Even if-

So now she was the one left behind and god did it fucking suck. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. She finally noticed Ayaz and saw the look of concern at her outburst.

~

Blood splattered her face as the assassin pulled the trigger of the gun resting at the base of the man’s skull. It was messier than normal but he hadn’t come quietly and she was pissed off enough not to care. Medea on the other hand looked less than pleased. Blood also splattered the toes of her shoes. She took one look at Nevra’s blood covered face and audibly exhaled through her nose. 

“At least you used a silencer.” She could barely hear the words over the roaring in her head and the sounds of passing cars on the street at the end of the alley.

A burner phone appeared in the older woman’s hand. A quick picture and a moment before confirmation before she tossed it into a barrel, followed by a lit match. A tiny part of Nevra wanted to burn the dead man as well but that wasn’t the job. This job was finished. 

She took out her own phone and pressed the name at the top. Three rings before it picked up. Time difference, right. He wouldn’t care though, not really. 

“Another one.” 

Ayaz sighed on the other line and he kept silent for a moment, no doubt debating how long he should indulge her desire to lose herself. 

“There’s a woman in Launceston…”

~

“You’re sure? No possibility you’re wrong?” Her throat felt like she’d eaten a handful of gravel. She felt her hands begin to shake in Ayaz’s grip. A shake of his head and a slight bow but he never averted her eyes. Never severed that last tether of support she needed. 

Nevra looked toward the front door and slowly allowed the realization that Berat would never walk through it again to wash over her. How was she supposed to get through everything without him? 

They’d talked for hours and nights on end of how it had been so simple to choose each other. How, once they’d said screw it and thrown caution to the wind, life had been so much happier. Their happiness had been a choice, her choice. 

This was not her choice. 

This is what it felt like to be left behind. 

If he was going to leave her behind, then she was going to leave everyone else behind too.

“Give me a job.” 

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t said in anger or sadness or despair. It wasn’t a want but a need.

It looked like he was going to refuse her so she shook her head. No, don’t stop me.

“Give me a job.” 

~

The second plane was just as comfortable as the first had been. First class again, only this time Medea had done something unexpected. She’d bought out the entire first class. Nevra knew she was standing at the back of the area talking to the hostesses. She didn’t care what she was telling them. No one bothered her though. 

As the woman settled in the back, the Turk settled in the front. Maybe her babysitter had gone through what Nevra was going through. Maybe she expected her to use the privacy to break down and cry or throw a tantrum or let all hell loose. Nevra intended on refraining from each one of those things. 

If she was going to cry it would be on her own terms. Her grief would be her choice. Everything from here on out would be controlled by her because fuck this feeling. A better person would have taken the opportunity to understand, this was how she’d made other people in her life feel. Before, she would have been that better person. 

Now she wasn’t and didn’t care to be. 

Berat Yalaz would be the last person who would make a choice for her and the last person to leave her behind. 

The thought made her sigh.