#and then say stuff like 'no more cars only bikes and walking!'

[thedisablednaturalist]

Disabled people deserve to have a place in your utopia

Yes even if they can't work. Even if they require a ton of care. Even if they don't fit your *aesthetic* ideal. Even if they are disfigured, immobile, struggle socially, or are prone to overstimulation. Even if they hallucinate. Even if they seem gross, ugly, loud, or take up space. Even if they are rude (aka don't take any shit)

There will always be disabled people. Make sure your idea of utopia has a space for us or it will never come true.

[pullhisteeth]

classified | eddie munson x reader

summary at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer. (nsfw) [13k]

contains smut (18+ minors dni!) – p in v sex, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, virgin!reader, fem!reader, hurt/comfort. eddie's a sweetheart, fluff, first time turned something more (?).

author's notes this one's a long one! the idea made me laugh and then it took on a life of its own. I want to say this is meant to be somewhat lighthearted and is not a suggestion that anyone should be having sex if they haven't already – your body's yours, baby, do whatever you want! no one should ever make you feel rushed into anything!!! anyway Eddie is an angel and I want one. bye!

-

Eddie's not sure why he's reading the newspaper. Boredom, perhaps; he's been waiting for Wayne to get home from his shift for over an hour. He's thought about calling the plant, but the walk from the couch to the phone seems to be the perfect amount of time to convince himself that he's probably on his way home already.

It's the Hawkins Post. It gets delivered by a snot-nose boy on a bike every week, thrown far too hard at their tin front door. Wayne reads it some weeks, others it gets used to wrap his lunch. Apparently this one he'd read it, flicked through the pages half-heartedly before leaving it open on a centrefold about the local elections. Trust Wayne to get bored of small-town politics, Eddie thinks.

So he picks up where Wayne left off, slowly pulling the pages apart, skimming stories about the endemic of teen pregnancy, or columns about the rejuvenation plans for downtown Hawkins. 

Finally, he reaches the only bit of the newspaper that Eddie has ever found interesting: the classifieds (and, on the back of the classifieds, the call-girl ads).

He skims them, eyes brushing past ads for cleaners, dog walkers, nannies. Finds the ones hidden at the bottom – the letters written in code, ads for attractive female friends and women seeking younger men. He's never actually interested in them, but they provide a glimpse into the underbelly of Hawkins, a small town that is, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. But nowhere is ever truly normal, and Eddie likes to seize the opportunity to pry into the scandalous goings-on of his boring hometown.

He's reading one about swingers when the one beside it catches his eye. It's plain – whoever paid for it kept their costs to a minimum. All it says is:

WOMAN, 23, SEEKING FIRST TIME.

He stares at the bold ink, the statement in all caps that, despite being maybe the lowest cost ad in the whole paper – it's in a box about three inches tall in the very corner of the page – jumps out at him anyway. Underneath the title, it reads: young woman looking for judgement-free first time. Min. age 22, max. age 28. Must have experience. At the very bottom, in almost imperceptible print, is a phone number.

Eddie hadn't realised how close his face was to the page until he hears the familiar sound of Wayne's car pull up outside. He throws the paper down onto his lap and sighs before scrambling around to at least try to look casual, and not like all the blood has rushed to his face. In the few seconds he has between the sound of Wayne's car door closing and him coming up the stairs, Eddie tears the page out, folding it quickly and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans as he stands.

The door opens just as he gets to his feet, and Wayne comes trudging in with his steel lunch pail and heavy boots.

"Hey, Wayne," Eddie says, breathless, trying his best to sound level. Wayne eyes him as he closes the door, before turning to dump his stuff on the table.

"C'mon, kid, you promised me a burger."

-

The piece of newspaper stays in Eddie's pocket for three more days.

Wayne had been late getting home – something came up, but Eddie wasn't listening too hard, brain on that stupid ad instead – so their weekly trip to Benny's had run until the early hours of Friday morning.

And then Friday was work and Hellfire, which Eddie still leads despite having graduated two years ago, and this time the kids kept him going for hours. By the time he got home he hadn't even thought about the page before crashing into bed.

And then Saturday is family day, as Nancy puts it. Eddie had woken up late, rolled out of bed into the freshest clothes he could find, and into his van to act as bus driver for the morning. His little gaggle of unruly teenagers crammed into the back of it one by one, laughing and teasing and shouting. Steve's home became louder and still, Eddie relished in that feeling of peace he gets once a week with all these misfits he calls friends.

By Sunday morning, the newspaper had been long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans that he'd left in a pile on his bedroom floor. He's laid on his back on his bed, head dangling off the edge, puffing mindlessly on a spliff he'd rolled for himself two days ago that had also been forgotten. The room's a little fuzzy round the edges, just the way he likes it, the sunlight creeping warm paws up his arms. It smells funny in here, he thinks, so he turns over, pushes himself off the bed, and reaches up to open his window. On his way back to his bed, he trips on something, landing with a huff as his ribs hit the corner of the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, reaching down to pull the culprit off the floor. It's just an old pair of jeans, so he throws them into the corner, out of the way, and resumes his position, splayed out across the bed.

From this angle, with his head hanging upside down, he spots something by the pile of denim he'd just discarded.

His brain's ticking over slowly under the haze of being stoned, but after a second he realises what it is, and clambers all too quickly off the bed and across the room.

Maybe it's that haze, coating his brain with thick fog; maybe it's the fact that, in the year since he graduated, he's had to settle for quick fucks behind the Hideout after a gig; or maybe, just maybe, it's dangerous curiosity.

Whatever it is, something motivates him to move through his room, down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. There's something hijacking his limbs, and it reaches up to the phone on the wall. With eyes on the page in his hand he spins the dial, listening to the tone as it rings, rings, rings.

The longer he stands there, the more convinced he becomes in his intoxicated miasma that this is some kind of prank; he's going to be met with a stupid kid on the other end, laughing at him for bothering to call at all. 

When he finally decides that this is just that, a practical joke, the line clicks. There's a low buzz on the other end, so low he thinks maybe the line just went dead, but then a voice.

"Hello?"

He's taken aback by the sound of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the sleep coating it. Despite his stupor, he can't help but apologise.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Who is this?" You're sharper now, coming to, and he kicks himself for fucking this up already.

"Oh, shit, uh, sorry. I called about… I got this number, uh, in the paper."

"Fuck," he hears you whisper. He's not sure if he was supposed to hear it. He feels bad.

"Sorry, I'll go, this was-"

"Look, I put that age range in the ad for a reason. I'm sick of gettin' calls from middle aged men, I-"

"I'm twenty-three."

You're silent on the other end for a moment, but he can hear your breath hitch.

"Well, shit," you finally say. "Y'don't sound it."

He laughs an awkward, stilted laugh, unsure what to say.

"Sorry, I've had so many guys – men, old men – callin' me up, tryin' to flirt with me down the phone, I just… The ad was a mistake, clearly."

He likes the way you talk. You've got a pretty voice.

"Uh, thanks," you say.

Shit.

"Fuck, sorry, did I say that out loud?" Moron.

You laugh, the sound fizzing down the telephone line, and it eases some of his insecurity.

"I'm sorry," he says, starting fresh. "I'll leave you be, have a good-"

"Wait," you bite, and he can hear you shuffling around. "Wait just a sec, I- fuck, where the fuck is it? I… Sorry, can you just wait for a second?"

"Sure, sure," he murmurs, trailing off when he realises you've set the phone down. He listens to the faint sounds of you rummaging around and swearing under your breath. He must look like an idiot, stood in his kitchen, smiling at his phone, waiting for a stranger he found in the paper.

He hears you coming back, footsteps getting louder, before you pick the phone back up.

"Y'still there?"

"Yeah," he laughs. You speak to him like he's an old friend and it keeps catching him off guard.

"Okay," you say. "Here's the thing. I put that stupid ad in the paper because I was sad, and my life has been a misery since then, because literally every guy who's called me has been, like, at least forty, which some people are into I guess but I'm not, and- Sorry."

You're rambling, stumbling over your words even though he can tell you're trying to be professional or something. He stays quiet and hopes you'll keep going.

After a beat, you say, "I guess, 'cause you called, you'd be up for it?"

"Uh, well," he stammers. "That's kinda why I called. Care to explain what it is you want, exactly?"

He's not sure where the sudden confidence has come from; maybe the weed's wearing off.

"Okay, yeah," you breathe. "So, uh, my plan, I guess, was that I'd… You'd take, uh, my virginity."

You almost whisper the last part, like it's some kind of slur, and Eddie can't help but laugh on the other end.

You start to sound exasperated, frustrated, so he tries to claw you back.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just so… frank."

"Well, bein' all coy about it hasn't really worked out for me so far."

Can't argue with that logic.

"Okay," he says, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling inside him. You're a stranger, he's a stranger, and this whole thing is kind of weird. Shit, he thinks. Am I a perv?

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well," you start, sounding like you've got this part planned out. "First I need to know you're not gonna murder me or something, so I'll give you an address near my house but not at my house, and we can meet there whenever… and, uh, what year were you born?"

"What?"

"Just… So I feel a bit more sure you're actually twenty-three."

"Hah, okay. 1965."

"Okay, sweet. You got a pen?"

"Shit, yeah, one sec."

His eyes dart around the room. With the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he moves as far as the cord will let him, to a drawer by the front door. At the back there's an old pencil and some scraps of junk mail.

"Got it!" he declares, too enthusiastic but it makes you giggle so he laughs too.

"Okay," you start, and you tell him an address he vaguely recognises, closer to the nicer side of town, halfway between here and where Steve's house is.

"It's a park, kind of. It's pretty public anyways, so if you were, y'know, planning to kill me or whatever, don't bother."

"I'll take that off the to-do list," he tells you through a smirk.

"Very funny," you say, your sentence half-formed like you can't find the words to finish it. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Eddie. Munson."

"Okay, Eddie Munson," you say before telling him yours and deciding that you'll meet him later that day. You tell him it's easier that way, that you can't bear to have to wait all week, sitting on the nerves that might make you change your mind.

That's exactly what Eddie does all afternoon. You'd decided on six that evening, when it's still light but late enough that you both have time to back out, and so he sits, stoned out of his mind on both weed and the phone call, feeling something he's rarely felt before.

It's like cola in his gut, bubbling and frothing every time he tries to move. Is this what people feel when they say they have butterflies? Because it doesn't really feel like that; it feels instead like the madness inside him is floating upwards, fizzing around his heart, prodding and poking at it at uneven rhythms. His mind is reeling, too; he hadn't really thought this through at all. What if, even after that call, you're still planning on playing some kind of trick on him? What if this is an elaborate scheme to publicly humiliate him? Maybe you get a kick out of that kind of thing.

There's another thing, creeping around at the back of his mind, lurking. It's that horrid hopefulness, the what if that feels so far from likely that if he lends too much time to thinking about it, he feels stupid.

What if you're great?

He shakes himself out, standing up off his bed. He'd been lying there for the past two hours, sobering up, dwelling on every detail of the call, lingering in particular on your voice and your laugh and the way you say sweet so often.

He doesn't know who you are. He didn't recognise your name when you told him, even though you're his age. He didn't recognise your voice either, but he likes it, and he wasn't lying when he (accidentally) told you it's pretty.

He looks at the clock beside his bed. The red numbers flicker as they change to 16:52.

One hour.

-

He's early.

It's ten to six, and he's early.

The sun's low but not gone yet, and the park you sent him to is actually kind of nice. He's in his van, waiting until it's a socially acceptable time to get out and wait for you. What is the socially acceptable time to get out and wait for the girl you've got an agreement like this with?

Before he can decide, he sees someone. They're in jeans and a jacket, red Chucks and hair lifting up in the breeze.

Without thinking about it too hard, he opens the door and hops out, slamming it a little too hard. The person looks over, catches his mop of hair over the top of the van, and stops walking.

"Eddie?"

He hears you call his name over the sound of his boots crunching on the ground as he rounds the front of the van. He looks over to find you, the person he saw walking over, looking at him with your hand at your brow, blocking the sun.

You're pretty – really pretty. He still doesn't recognise you, but he has decided that's surely for the best.

You don't recognise him, either, but he's hot. He's not what you expected; truthfully, you really had expected someone older, lying about their age to get in your pants, someone you'd have to turn down in this very public space, going back to your apartment alone and unsatisfied. This is not what you had in mind at all, but you're not mad about it.

As he comes towards you, you watch the way he walks, chest-first like he's exactly where he should be. His hair's long and a bit wild but it matches his style – ringer tee, messy black jeans, obnoxious denim jacket. He's got his hands in his pockets but when he lifts one out to wave at you awkwardly, you see the rings and know you're a goner.

You wave back, laughing lightly as he nears you. He's taller than you so you really have to squint to see him against the setting sun.

"Hey," he says softly. His voice is even nicer in person; he does sound older than he is, and he has an air of maturity about him, like he's too sure in himself to be 23, but there's also a boyishness somewhere underneath that endears you.

"Hi," you reply. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looks around himself, head whipping back and forth.

"No, doll," he says, looking at you with a blank face. "I'm Keith."

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks and the way your face drops, but then he laughs and reaches out to hold your shoulder.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke." He squeezes. "Yeah, I'm Eddie."

You choose to ignore the overly familiar touch and the way it sends your knees all funny, and instead you laugh, a little awkwardly, and hold out a hand.

"Nice to meet ya," you say, firm.

He looks down at your hand as he drops his own from your shoulder. His eyes move between it and your face, but he shakes it anyway.

"Well?" he asks, and you watch as he smirks, staring you down, his hand still in yours.

"What?"

"Do I look like a serial killer? Scared I'm gonna murder you?"

With those final words he pulls on your hand, bringing you closer to himself. His confidence is only making that funny feeling in your knees worse, but what you don't know is that he's bluffing; before you stands a terrified boy struck dumb by a pretty girl.

"Hm," you hum, dialling up the dramatics to ponder his appearance. You take the chance to scan your eyes up and down his body, taking in the scuffs on his shoes and the pretty silver chain around his neck. From here you can smell weed and cigarette smoke, pretty aftershave and something deeper. "I don't think so."

"Damn," he quips, finally releasing your hand to run his own through his wild mass of hair. "I was really tryin' to look scary."

"You didn't do a very good job," you tell him, laughing softly, and he looks at you with a smile.

"Oh well," he says. "Maybe next time."

Ignoring the way that makes you feel, you take his hand again. It's your turn to pull him, dragging him behind you. The move startles him and he drags his feet for a moment before catching up, refusing to let go of your hand when you try. He swings them between your bodies theatrically as you walk him across the park, through a line of tall oak trees and onto the street on the other side.

"So," he says, drawing out the word. "We goin' to your parents' or somethin'?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head slightly with your eyes on the ground. You drop his hand and stuff yours back in your pocket. "I have an apartment, up by Main Street. This's just a shortcut."

"Oh."

You don't say much more after that. The walk is short; you were right, this is a shortcut to Main Street, one even he didn’t know about. It takes you past Steve's house, and Eddie prays he doesn't happen to be looking out the window at this precise moment.

You live above the pharmacy. You scramble with the lock for a moment, so he stands behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around; it's quiet, the usual lull of a Sunday evening, the sun lower than before. He looks at the back of your hair and the way the light catches in it, hears the low curses under your breath as you struggle with the door. And then it's open, and you're inside in the dark, and he has to bring himself back down to Earth.

Your apartment is small. Behind the door there's a narrow staircase, and at the top another door. It brings him into your living space, which is cramped but clearly well-loved. You offer him a drink and step into the kitchen when he says yes.

He lets his eyes pass over the room. The ceiling is low, reminiscent of his own home, though the walls are more solid than the trailer. They're painted a muted, pale blue, a colour he's sure you didn't choose because you've covered as much of them as you can in things: paintings, framed photographs, postcards. The furniture is more to your taste, he assumes. It's all soft, rich greens and pinks.

You bring him a beer as he sits on the couch, sinks into the cushions, toes off his boots.

"Thanks," he says as you pass him the bottle and take a swig of your own. You take your own shoes off and leave them by the door, hanging your jacket on a hook there too.

"So," you begin, padding back over to him and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "I don't know how this works."

"Well," he says, turning to you with one arm up on the back cushions, "I can talk you through it, but I need t'know where you're at."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, how far have you gone before? How far do you want to go today?"

"Uh-" You shuffle, squirming into the couch, clearly looking for the right words. "I've never… This is as far as I've ever got."

He breathes a gasp though he's trying to hide it, trying to stick to the agreement of judgement-free. "You've never been kissed?"

You just shake your head and the way your face creases, brows turned down, makes him ache.

"Okay."

"And I want to go all the way," you say quickly, all in one breath, finding your words. "Not too far, no extra shit, like, kinky shit, but the standard."

"O-kay," he says again, smiling this time. "So you know it's not as easy as… As in and out, right?"

"Yes," you spit. He flinches. "Sorry, it's just… It's hard not to feel a bit, like, insecure about all of this. Makes me a bit defensive, I guess."

"It's okay," he soothes, and his tone really does make you feel better. "No judgement here. I'm not new to sex, but I'm just as new to this whole… situation as you are."

"Okay," you sigh.

"Why don't we just chat for a bit? I'm not in a rush if you're not."

"Yeah," you agree. Eddie is easy, you're finding; no dancing around the point, but you feel you're being handled gently. Exactly what you want.

"So did you grow up here?"

Okay, so maybe the 'chatting' suggestion was a bit of a façade for the fact that Eddie has found himself fascinated by you, even in the short time he's known you. Sure, it's only been ten minutes if you're not counting the phone call, but there's something about you that piques his interest. And, if he's honest, he's not sure why he wouldn't recognise someone his own age in Hawkins.

"No, no," you say, leaning over to put your beer on the table. You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand. "I'm from Illinois."

"Why are you here then?" He takes your que and puts his own beer down too, deciding that being intoxicated probably isn't the best idea.

"I dunno," you say, sighing again. Your shoulders go lax as you let yourself sink backwards and look up at the ceiling. "I wanted to go somewhere new, but not somewhere big. And the middle school here was hiring a tech assistant, so I applied."

"And you got the job?"

"Uh-huh. I start in September, figured I'd just move here early, try to find my feet."

"How's that going?"

"Alright, mister questions." You laugh as you say this and sit up, looking at him again with a smile. "It's going okay so far. People are friendlier here, but I haven't exactly found my people yet."

He hums, nodding, and you say, "My turn."

He looks up at you. "Do your worst."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Kind of. Somewhere near here, til I was eleven."

"Why'd you move here?"

"Hah." He goes all rigid and awkward at your question, shrugging his jacket off with his eyes on the ground. You take note of the ink you can see crawling up to his neck under the collar of his shirt. There's something else there, too; something pale and stretched, like a scar.

"It's complicated." That's the answer he settles on, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But I moved in with my uncle when I was in middle school. Been here since then."

"Is that why you're still here? Your uncle?"

"Kind of, but that's also complicated."

"Wow, okay, is everything complicated with you?"

"It doesn't have to be," he says. It throws you for a loop, the way his voice has dropped, fried and kind of… sexy?

You find him looking at you, and suddenly he feels really close. You feel this urge to climb out of yourself, away from this situation that isn't for you; it's never for you. No one has ever wanted to get this close.

"You okay?" he asks, his friendly tone back.

You're grateful he seems to be able to read you so quickly.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to, y'know, stop this at any point, just let me know, okay?"

"We haven't even-"

"Will you?" he presses.

"Yes," you promise him. He looks back at you like he's waiting, yearning for something and you don't quite know what.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why are you so far away right now?"

He's gone soft, leaning forward toward you, his arm still up on the back of the couch. Your eyes flicker to his fingers and the rings on them, the way they're sparkling slightly in the dipping sun coming through the window.

It fills your mouth with glue. The combination of his proximity and the question leaves you breathless.

"I just…" he continues. "You're hiding from me over there."

He's got a sticky smirk on his face, like he knows the answer and knows you don't want to tell him. He shuffles forward ever so slightly, letting you breach into his space if you want to.

You do, you really, really do – he's a kind stranger, doing a kind thing for you, even if it is a bit odd. You want nothing more than to relinquish yourself to him, and yet you can't.

There's a momentary staring contest between the two of you. The couch feels miles long and yet he's closing in. You feel suffocated.

"I'm gonna come to you," he says after a minute. "Is that okay?"

All you can do is nod at him. It's like your body's on fire, affronted at the idea of being touched by him and yet harbouring some primal urge, deep under the surface, to let him do it anyway.

He pushes his jacket onto the floor with his elbow as he moves himself down the couch toward you. Your eyes follow his arms and the way they stretch, and then the way one of them lifts. He plants his hand firmly on your knee and it burns through the denim of your jeans. You can't tear your eyes from it, staring blankly at his fingers, the way the tendons flex when he squeezes.

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" he tells you. He's watching you, how you're watching his hand, how your hair still lights up in the sun. You're sweet, and pretty, and most of all he longs to know more.

"I'm gonna talk you through it," he continues, "kinda like a teacher, if that's what you want."

When you don't reply, he calls your name softly, and says, "Is that what you want?"

You look up at him and nod again.

"I need to hear it, sweets."

You tell him yes, that is what I want, trying desperately to keep your voice as level as possible, not letting on that it kills you every time he uses a petname like that.

His fingers dance up your thigh and back down to your knee, a repeating pattern that sends you dizzier the closer he gets to you.

"Eddie?"

His hand stills and he looks at you.

"Yeah?"

When he responds, you feel his breath on your face. He's close enough, now; you can really look at him, at the crow's feet by his eyes, the freckles across his cheek, the bend in the bridge of his nose that looks like maybe he broke it once. His eyes are really pretty, browned sugar and syrup, flitting around as he tries to read you.

"I've never been this close to anyone before."

He's watching your eyes as they move over his face, admiring the slight sense of awe in them.

"That's okay."

There's a sudden absence on your leg where his hand leaves it and it aches, like the bone is realigning. You swallow a whine and close your eyes when his hand finds your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he whispers. "That okay?"

You nod again and he lets the pads of his fingers smooth backwards into your hair where they take root, his thumb beside your eye. You feel him pull you in and his breath on your nose and then the strange sensation of his lips.

It's new but not unwelcome. He's soft with it, light as anything and quicker even, gone before you really know it's happened. Some kind of sudden urge takes over, though, because you don't like how quick it was, so you chase him. You plant your lips back on his, firmer than he had, your nose nudging his as you get the angle right. This one's longer and it startles him; you have to pull back when he starts laughing.

"Alright, alright, slow down," he says as you sit back, deflated. "You liked that, huh?"

You nod, giddy, desperate to feel it again.

"Can I show you somethin'?" His hand is on your neck now, burning its fires once more, and you can barely concentrate on him.

"Yeah," you breathe, a sigh of relief as he comes closer again. But as you close your eyes, expecting his mouth on yours, you can't help the whine that escapes when he misses, landing beside it. You feel him chuckle, a puff of air out of his nose, before he dots more kisses along your jaw. It feels nice, gentle and slow, like he's scared to break you if he goes too fast or comes on too strong.

The whine, lingering in your throat, moulds into something like a sigh – or even a moan – when he makes it onto the column of your throat. You swear you feel his teeth graze the skin there, lips following them over your pulse. His kisses turn hotter, heavier, and you can't help the way you keen into him. Without thinking about it, you paw at his shoulders and let your back arch as you breathe thick pants into the air of your living room.

When he pulls back again, you whine his name, gripping tighter where you've pulled his shirt into your fists. He laughs at you, head tipped back, as he smooths his hands up and down your arms; the gentle touch makes you relax and your hands unfurl.

"Good, huh?" His words are viscous, thick with want, but he daren't go too fast.

"Mm-hmm," you agree, nodding, breathing quick. Now that he's stopped, you have time to consider that, actually, you might be a bit overwhelmed; without thinking about it you sit back, returning to your comfortable distance by the arm of the couch, watching as his face falls.

"Sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I just-"

"Yeah, take a second."

"Mm-hmm, just need a minute."

You watch him stiffen, awkward in the wake of the moment, and take the chance to admire him a bit more until you sense his eyes are back on you, and suddenly you feel very small.

"You alright?"

You nod, looking back at him, finding his face all soft and concerned, turned down so it makes you twinge.

"You're being so nice to me," you say. It comes out more as a breath, a string of words tied together with insecurity, all in the same exhale. You're not even sure you said it at all, but his face twists into something like shock.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. "I dunno, I… You're just being very… kind. Are you always like this?"

He seems taken aback by the question. His hands are in his lap where his left fingers toy with the rings on his right. He looks away from you to stare instead at the beer on the table and the drop of condensation running a race down the neck of the bottle.

"You've really never done this before, huh?" he asks you, and now it's your turn to be taken aback.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're getting at," you say with perhaps a bit too much venom.

"No," he responds, stern. "I'm just… Finding it hard to believe. I'm sure it's true," he says quickly when you open your mouth to fire something quick at him again, "like, I know you're not lying, but it's so surprising."

"How so?"

He sighs this time. He twists in his seat to face you, bringing one leg up under himself, the other dangling off the edge of your couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you right now, if that's okay."

"Okay."

"'Cause I feel like that's the best way to do this whole… thing, right? Nothin' in it for you, really, if we're not honest, or whatever…"

For the first time since you met him in the park, he's showing his nerves. It gets him all wound up, stumbling through sentences like the words are quicker than he can keep up with. It's endearing, really; nicer in some ways than confidence.

"When I saw that ad it obviously caught my eye, I mean, I called, but I just didn't know what to expect, obviously, and you're… Well, you're… normal? So far, anyway." He huffs the last three words out in a laugh, but you don't return it.

"What does that mean?"

"I just think I expected someone who puts an ad like that in the paper to be weirder, or something."

Your gut twists. Red flares of anger lick up your insides, popping and wheezing in your throat.

"What the fuck, dude?" 

You stand, backing away, feeling that familiar creeping isolation; distance, walls up, get away. His face has dropped to something wider, fear in his big stupid brown eyes and mouth agape.

"I didn't-"

"I'm not weird for being a virgin. And just because you think I'm 'normal' doesn't mean this-" you gesture between the two of you with both hands, "-should be surprising."

"No, shit, sorry," he pants, desperation oozing, "fuck."

"I think you should go," you finally say. Your arms are across your middle, hands gripping your forearms. You don't dare look at him, even when he says nothing.

You flinch when you feel him come nearer. He steps over the threadbare rug on your floor and over to the corner where you've parked yourself.

He calls your name and you despise the way you soften at the sound of it.

"I'm gonna touch you, 's'that okay?"

You scoff, turning away from him.

"Stop fucking patronising me, Eddie."

"I'm not patronising you. You wanted me to talk you through it."

"Yeah, that. Not this."

"This is part of that."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well this isn't getting me very turned on," you spit, turning back to look at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and the rising fire of anger flares when you find that cocky smirk on his face.

"Will you come sit down with me? Please?"

His hands are hovering awkwardly between the two of you, forbidden to come any closer but refusing to give up completely. You offer him an olive branch, dropping your own arms and taking his hand in yours.

He walks you back to the couch and sits beside you, turning your hand over in his on his lap. You both watch it, the way his thumb grazes your palm, tracing the lines up and over.

"Sex isn't just sex, you know," he says frankly. "Even when it's like this."

"I know," you whisper, eyes transfixed.

"It's about all the emotional shit too, and I'm gettin' the feeling there's a lot of that to get through."

"Mm-hmm." It irks you, the way he seems to know you without really knowing you. "You sound very wise."

He laughs at that, and you find yourself grateful for the reprieve, for the way the tension seems to lift just a little.

"I'm just being honest," he admits through a laugh. And then he turns to look at you, dipping his head to meet your gaze because you won't look up. His gaze on you is oppressive, unfamiliar, but you don't dislike it.

"You're really pretty, you know."

You just look at him.

"Hm?" he tries, dipping even lower to catch your eye properly. "It's true."

"A boy's never called me pretty before," you admit, words too quick for you to call them back. This is dire, this hole you're digging; after all this time, being honest is still so difficult, though it seems to come so easily to him.

"That's a crime" he says. And then he does that thing, the one you've read about in books, daydreamed about, thought about late into the night. He brings his hand to your face and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a light pressure but enough to move you to look up at him, sat upright, with your mouth dropped open in shock.

It's just as electric as you'd imagined; more so, even. Two points of contact. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm sorry I said something stupid," he tells you. "It was dumb."

You giggle as his fingers shift across your skin. Soon enough he's holding you in his hand again and you feel yourself leaning into it, again.

"Thank you for apologising," you say. "I think I can forgive it for now."

"Good," he says. And then, more coy, the act dropped for a moment, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, but…"

Just like before, the words stall in your throat.

"You can tell me what you want, you know. It's why I'm here." Christ, his voice is like honey when he's this close to your face.

You pull a long breath in through your nose and close your eyes.

"I have this… fantasy," you begin, and you hear (and feel) him chuckle.

"Go on."

"I guess it's not really a fantasy, just something I've always wanted to try…"

"That's the definition of a fantasy."

"Hey," you scold, opening your eyes and swatting him on the arm softly. "You wanna hear it or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, laughing again. "Continue."

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Is that it?" he asks, laugh lingering, threatening to fire up the heat in your cheeks.

"Yes," you say pointedly. "I wanna try it."

"Go for it, baby."

He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the nickname; in fact, he smiles, grins almost. He moves his hands down, leaving your face for now so he can hold your waist as you move onto your knees and lift one over him.

It's funny, you think, how hard all of this feels; really, this is a very normal thing for two 23-year-olds to be doing, and yet something within you makes it feel mechanical, intentional. Perhaps you just need practise.

"Okay," he says as you settle, your hips halfway down his thighs. "You gonna get any closer, or am I gonna have to lean over an' break my back?"

"Am I okay to get closer?" you ask, not taking much notice of how your fingers are dancing around his chest, toying lightly with the chain around his neck. Maybe it does come naturally after all.

"'Course you are, here-"

His big hands pull you in by the waist so that you're seated on him, hips to hips. Your faces are closer now, too, so you can admire those lovely crows feet again and the bend of his nose.

"Gonna kiss me, Munson?"

"O-kay," he says, smirking again. "I like the attitude."

"Oh, for fu-"

He shuts you up with a kiss, takes your breath away like they all say in the magazines; this kiss brings the fire up to the hilt, pulls on the smoke and the kindling and sets everything ablaze. His lips move against yours like molten gold, hot and rich and bright, quick but tender all the same. You feel the heat of his stuttering breaths on your cheek and lean inwards, arching your back slightly, until you feel him moan.

It's a sensation you could get used to, for sure. It's fizzy vibrations on your lips, makes them tingle, all electric. And then, before you can really know it's happening, you feel his tongue on yours.

You're not even sure when you opened your mouth for him. But it's there, the new feeling. It feels wetter, less familiar, but it pulls an involuntary moan out of you and you arch your back even more without thinking.

You get into it, into the rhythm, and let your mind wander to the friction between your hips and the pressure of his fingers under your ribs. They're skirting the hem of your top, his ring finger dipping beneath it onto the skin of your waist. And then you think about it too much, take notice of it too acutely, and you're pulling back and panting, looking down at where his hands are.

"All good?" he asks in a voice that's new to you; it's lazy, his words fuzzy, like he's just woken up. You look up at him and his eyes are hooded, lids low, and he's wearing a dopey half-smile.

"Yeah, just… Feeling lots of things," you say; it's all you can think of to explain this.

"That's kinda the point," he reminds you, and then he's doing that thing he showed you earlier, kissing slowly across your jaw and down onto your neck. It feels just as nice the second time; nicer, even, because you're letting him do it and you're letting yourself enjoy it.

His fingers venture upwards, more of them sliding under your top, until he pulls back and says the fateful words you knew would come soon: "Can I take this off?"

His lips are still on your throat, so he doesn't see the way you wince. When you don't reply he comes back up to look at you. You turn away.

"Hey," he coos, one hand leaving its treacherous territory to hold your head again. "What's up?"

You huff. "No one's ever seen me… naked before."

He smiles, which vexes you. "I'm here 'cause I wanna, baby."

The fucking nicknames.

"I know, I just… Can you just-"

You hold his hand in yours and move it away from your skin, hold it in both of yours to keep it away from you. He breathes an apology but you continue.

"This whole thing, me never doing this before or whatever, I think it's probably got a lot to do with me not really liking this-" you look down at yourself as you speak, "-very much."

You see him take this in, how it melts his features and widens his eyes.

"Okay," he finally says. "We can take this slow, yeah? You wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Eddie, I'm wearing a bra."

"So let's start there. Top off first, and you can see how you feel."

"Okay."

You let go of his hand and he takes your shirt in both. You close your eyes as you feel him lift the fabric, bunch it around your breasts, your que to lift your arms. You do it for him and he pulls up, tugs it messily over your head and throws it somewhere across the room.

"Shit," he hisses.

"What?" you say in a panic, worried something somewhere has gone horribly wrong.

"Look at you," he croons. "So pretty."

The insecurity evaporates, coming off you like a heavy mist, as he dips his head to kiss your collar bones and across the swell of flesh beneath. He takes his time, sometimes pulling the skin between his teeth but never for long enough to leave a mark. At some point he nudges you back and reaches over his head to pull his own shirt off; before he commits, he looks at you. You nod.

This is the most flesh-on-flesh you've ever felt before. It's nice; you're both warm, and he hasn't once mentioned the eighteen thousand different flaws you know are on your upper body.

His is covered in ink – pretty, often in swirling patterns and on his arm there are bats. But between them, there's confirmation of your earlier suspicions: he's got scars everywhere.

You trace them with gentle fingers.

"Don't ask," he says, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay."

You lean back in to kiss him. You’re a lot less confident than he is at initiating, but soon enough you get the hang of it, and he lets you. He doesn't take the reins; instead, he gives himself to you, lets you find your feet by yourself.

You attempt to copy him, kissing his jaw and then his neck, and you enjoy the way he sighs and relaxes under your lips.

As you move further down, teeth grazing his collarbone, he says, "you wanna move? Couch isn't exactly ideal."

You finish your work with a peck to the bump of his shoulder and say, "Sure."

There's some awkward shuffling, and standing in your bra and jeans is somehow more vulnerable than sitting on him, but nevertheless you take his hand and lead him through the door to your bedroom.

He doesn't have as much time to take this room in as the last one, because he wants you on the bed more than he cares to admit. When you flick on the bedside lamp, finally acknowledging how dark it's become now the sun's started going down, all he really notices is how warm the room is.

"Here," he says, manoeuvring you as he pleases. "Lay back, yeah?"

You do as he says, sitting facing him and pushing yourself back so you can lay down with your knees up. 

And then it happens: one of the many cataclysmic revelations of the evening.

"Good girl."

Again, you gasp, looking up at the ceiling.

"Good?" he asks.

"Really good," you tell him. You haven't really noticed that your hands have laid themselves across your chest, but he can't stop staring.

"That's it, see? Love when you tell me what you like."

One of his hands joins one of yours where it's fidgeting with your bra, and the other smooths down one of your legs, urging you to straighten them. You do, and again he says those fateful words: "Good girl. Gonna take these off, yeah?"

"Wait," you snap, sitting up and letting his hand fall so you can lean back with your weight on yours. "Can we do it together?"

"'Course."

"And can I… Can I undo yours?"

"Shit, sure you can."

You sit up and he takes your hands in his bigger ones, moulding them so you're tracing your fingers down the plain of his chest and stomach. You follow the dips and creases, the taught skin of his scars, and finally reach his belt.

He's mumbling nonsense at you, too caught up in everything to keep up the teacher façade, pinching your fingers between his so you can pull the leather through the buckle and get to his zipper.

When you unzip and brush something hard, he drops his hands and tips his head back in a sigh. It's an unfamiliar feeling under your tentative hands but it's not unknown.

"Wow," you breathe, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"Shit, gotta get these off-" He pulls back from your wanting grasp to shuffle out of his jeans, leaving his boxers in place for now. One step at a time.

"Your turn," he declares, smiling, jeans and socks gone. He reaches over to you again to return the favour, undoing buttons and the zip and his wide hand on your hip urges you to lift off the bed so he can pull the denim down your legs.

There's no turning back now; you can never again wonder what will happen the first time someone sees you (nearly) naked.

You've thought about this before, turned an infinity of possibilities over in your mind, but this was never one of them. Not one of them included a pretty boy, standing before you, just as exposed as you are, pawing at flesh and telling you you're beautiful.

His lips ghost over you, beginning at your shoulder and creeping lower. When he reaches the middle of your chest he looks up at you, the angle a little awkward. You nod.

"What're you doing?" you ask him, moving backwards again as he crowds you.

"I'm gonna take this off," he says, tugging lightly at the band of your bra, bringing himself level with you so he's breathing the words into your ear. "And then I'm gonna eat you out."

He may as well be a fire-breathing dragon. His words claw at your scalp like flames and fill your lungs with heat, pulling a sigh from within. You lean back, lying flat on the sheets, and let him have his way with you.

But he doesn't move, first admiring the way you respond and then waiting, lingering above you, too far away.

"What?" you hiccup, looking at him, confused.

"Need you to tell me this is what you want," he tells you.

"This is what I want," you repeat back to him. And then, taking the plunge, you add, "I want you to eat me out, Eddie."

You relish in his response, the way you can almost see him shiver, bare shoulders twitching and chest deflating with a shuddery exhale.

"Christ, yes, okay."

His fingers inch around your back so you arch it, letting him toy with the clasp of your bra. He gets it undone quicker than you expected, and you can't bring yourself to focus on where it goes once it's off because he's got his mouth back on your skin and now he's biting marks in places that would make your past self blush.

You feel his teeth on the swell of your boobs, first the left and then the right, and the rough pads of his fingers over your nipples.

"Shit," you hiss, and then, "no, shit, don't stop," when he halts for a second.

"Feel good?" he asks, muffled with his teeth grazing the stretch of skin across your ribs.

"Yes, yeah."

Gripping the sheets, you arch again, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the goosebumps they leave.

His fingers leave them, too, especially when they dance over your sides, that bit that makes you feel hollow if you drift over it the right way.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, lifting his head to look up at you from where he's sunk to his knees. You're staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied to meet his eye, and the sight makes him huff a laugh.

"Yes," you respond too quickly.

As you feel his fingers curl around the elastic, he says, "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a hand, alright? Tell me if it feels okay or if you want me to move. Or if you want me to stop, obviously."

"Yes, yeah, fuck, please Eddie-"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, pulling the material down over your knees and feet. At this rate, your bedroom floor must look like an explosion at the laundromat; dirty laundry everywhere, clothes all over the floor.

You're not sure why you're thinking about the logistics of tidying right now, though it doesn't last long, because the cool air on your core is a shock that jolts every limb.

Although he's wedged between them, you seem to have an instinctual reaction to the sensation of being exposed, your legs trying to close around him. His firm hands pull them apart, his fingers grasping the fat of your thighs, and then his lips.

They're on the softness between your legs first of all, nipping and pulling the skin between his teeth as he moves upwards. And then you feel them, the strange, wet contact. There's a feeling, something you think must be his tongue, licking upwards, before it makes contact with your clit.

The pressure is a thunderbolt to the centre, a shock that sends you arching off the bed with a gasp. Your grasp on the sheets tightens for a moment until you feel the roughness of his hair instead; without thinking, you've moved both hands to claw and pet at the crown of his head, earning a muffled moan when you tug ever so lightly.

He calls your name, pulling back, his words heard through cotton wool ears. "You're sure you haven't done this before?"

"Fuck, yes, Eddie I'm sure," you pant in response, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on you again. He obliges your unspoken craving, licking upwards again before settling comfortably at your clit. His firm hands dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs until one of them doesn’t, and before you can think too hard about it, you feel it just beneath his mouth.

The new feeling of his rough fingers on your cunt sends your eyes rolling back; you can't help but squirm and it's driving him wild, the way you're listening to him, the way you can't help but move, the way you're tugging at him without realising.

The gnawing tightness in your core nosedives when he slips, warm breaths replacing his mouth and fingers. You whine like a petulant child, making a noise you didn't know you could.

"I'm gonna use my fingers," he tells you, the distance between him and your cunt not enough to save you from the maddening huffs of breath as he talks. "Have you ever had anything inside before?"

It's funny, how nervous he sounds despite the fact he's knelt the way he is between your knees. His mouth was just all over you, and yet he's still a boy, turned stuttering by sex talk.

"No," you pant, "no, never."

"Okay, it might hurt, alright? You just gotta tell me to stop and I will."

"Okay," you agree.

He settles back into position, his weight rested on his elbows and his face and hand inching closer. You feel it, the stiffness of a finger, but the feeling is unusual and a little uncomfortable.

"You gotta relax," he tells you. "You overthinkin' it?"

"No," you bite defensively.

"It's okay."

You huff and lie back, dropping your shoulders.

"Do you ever…"

Another sigh.

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

There's a momentary flush of embarrassment, a conditioned response to being asked about this kind of thing, but you're here, in this position, naked, so you may as well be honest.

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you think about? When you do?"

"I, uh…"

"It's okay," he says quickly, "don't tell me. Just- just think about it now, right? Somethin' that turns you on."

Something that turns you on? What's turning you on right now is the handsome guy between your legs. His pretty inked skin, the stretch across his shoulders and the ripples in his back. His wide, firm hands, those obnoxious rings, the way he keeps telling you you're a good girl.

It swims in your mind, the vision of him cooing sweet praises, the fizzling memory of those words in his voice.

"That's it, you got it," you hear him tut, as though he can see inside your mind, read your thoughts. It pulls apart the tension in your core and across your shoulders, and then it's back, that feeling, the warmth and the fire, and you sink deeper into the pool of euphoria.

With one finger already half-way inside, he adds a second, his eyes trained on your face in case it's too much. But it's not; of course it's not. He knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's made a girl this happy in his whole life.

You feel it soon enough: there's a fizzing current that licks up from your cunt and into your gut where it lights your nervous system on fire. It runs laps around your body, pinpricks in your fingertips and behind your ears. You grasp at the sheets again, pulling, pulling, pulling, reaching for whatever you can to keep your body from floating away, because it really feels like that's about to happen; either that or you're going to implode, pulling the room and everything else with you like a black hole, hungry for more.

You barely notice the pants, your whiny moans and the repeated prayers of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, before you're coming apart. He's still going, riding you through it, basking in the sound of his name as it crawls from your mouth. So far he's kept his composure, ignored the searing pain under his boxers, but he doesn't think he'll hold out much longer.

"That's it," he coos, slowing down, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. You're panting, your breath hot and skin even hotter, and you can barely hear him when he speaks. The words carry, though, somehow; his praises of you did so good, and you're driving me wild, and, worst of all with the way it slaps you silly when it comes, I need to be inside you.

You sit up at that, holding yourself up on wobbling elbows to look at him. He's still knelt between your knees, hands resting on them, looking back at you with eyes turned dark and glistening skin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it takes you a minute to understand that he's waiting for your answer.

"Right," you breathe. "Yeah, okay." You scramble to sit up and twist yourself so you're lying the right way but he laughs and it makes you go cold.

"Chill out, take a minute, yeah?"

His hand hasn't left you; it's on your ankle now, rubbing those same circles over the bone.

All you can say is, "That was insane."

He laughs again, a softer noise this time, and says, "It was, huh?"

"Yeah." You flop back, head in the pillows and eyes on the ceiling above you, your own fingers tracing up and down your stomach.

He watches you from the floor. You're all flushed, glowing something rosy and sprinkled with dewy sweat. And then he watches your fingers, their absentminded journey up from your belly to the dip between your boobs, and back down. You repeat it over and over, and though it's an innocent, repetitive stroke, it's not helping the pressure between his legs.

"I'm gonna take these off," he tells you, giving your ankle a comforting squeeze and tugging his waistband with his free hand. "That okay?"

It dawns on you, as you look at him, that not only are you lying naked in front of a stranger, but that you are about to see that stranger's dick. A stranger who responded to your stupid ad in the paper, who's agreed to this for some stupid reason, and who is stupid handsome and stupid nice.

"Uh, yeah, okay."

He says your name again and it sounds so pretty when he does, and then he says, "We can stop if you want, you know. You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to."

"No, I want to," you say. "I just… This is a lot."

"Yeah," he says with a smile, that one that drips with charm and tugs at your gut. "But you're all good. Done so well so far."

Your body keens at the praise, your back lifting off the bed and it's then that you notice the feeling of want biting ugly marks into the pit of your stomach. You look at him, and he looks back at you, and all you can feel is a gnawing emptiness, a need to be full.

"Let's do this," you declare, sitting back up on your elbows and watching him with needy eyes. He sees it, the darkness that has settled in your irises, the itchy fidgeting of your hands on your sheets.

"Yes, ma'am."

Slowly, he stands and tugs his underwear down his legs and onto the floor. It all feels very real, now that he's stood before you like this.

He laughs at your wide eyes, trained on the straining erection he just let loose. You've never seen a dick in person before, and to be truthful you're not sure you've ever really seen one in a photograph or a video – the adult section at the rental store isn't exactly somewhere you often find yourself – so you have nothing to compare this to, but objectively it looks quite big.

"Will it fit?" you say before you can stop yourself. It comes out a squeak and makes him laugh yet again.

"Yes," he tells you, "it'll fit. But thanks for the ego boost."

He's on his knees on the bed beside you now, moving towards you until he can use his hands to move your legs apart. He settles himself between them and sits back on his heels, leaving one hand on your left leg and using the other to take one of yours. He intertwines your fingers, squeezes, and pulls you to sit up.

"Here," he says, bringing your hand to sit flat on his ribs. He's controlling his voice as best he can, hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as he feels right now. He can't help but stare at you, at how you're looking at him. 

"I'm gonna show you how to touch me, okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. His hand moves yours down until it reaches patchy hair and then he curls your hand around his dick, his own hand still holding yours.

It's a new feeling, sure, but you're mostly enjoying the short hisses of breath he's letting out. When you move upwards without his help he almost moans, and you decide you'd like to do whatever it takes to make him do it again, and louder.

"Shit, okay, wait. Here-" He brings your hand away and lays it flat, palm up. "Spit."

You look up at him and find his wide brown eyes looking down at you, waiting.

So you spit into your palm, and he brings it back to himself, and moving is easier now.

"Fuck, okay… Yeah, just like that, that's it, shit-"

He drops his hand from yours and leaves you to find your own way, so you copy his pattern of up and down, slowly, twisting your hand as you go.

"Here, move your thumb over the- Fuck-"

You do as he says, perhaps too eager to please, and watch in awe as the muscles in his abdomen tense and he leans forward, resting his weight on one hand planted right beside your hip.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he says, taking your wrist and pulling you away, ignoring the way you whine.

When he says, "We can worry about me another time," you try to ignore the brief fluttering it elicits deep within your chest somewhere. Dwelling on things said in the heat of this moment isn't fair, you decide; he surely doesn't mean it.

With warm, now familiar hands, he helps you lay back down.

"You got condoms?"

"Oh." You don't, and the truth you're about to tell him is mortifying. "No. They all expired a few months ago."

"That's fine," is all he says, and the fluttery feeling returns when he doesn't ask any follow up questions. No judgement, as promised. "Just wait here."

His hand leaves you at the last possible moment. As he moves off the bed it runs smooth down your leg and over your foot, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You watch him hop awkwardly across the room and into your living room, the sight a refreshing injection of humour, helping you relax into the mattress again. He comes back with his jacket in one hand, which he drops on the floor after rummaging in the inside pocket and pulling out a red foil square. 

He pulls it open with fingers that you realise are shaking slightly, and you wonder if he's really nervous, and if so, if he's as nervous as you are.

It takes a few seconds but soon enough he's rolled it on, breath stuttering and dry, and then he climbs back to you and his hands return to your body almost as quickly as they left.

He's hovering over you now, his long hair tickling the sides of your face and the tops of your shoulders, all the places the sun hits on hot days. You're too caught up in watching his every move, too keen to really realise what you're saying before you ask: "Will you kiss me again?"

He smiles and dips down wordlessly, letting his lips slip against yours. It brings back the fluttering and the fizzy feeling, the craving for him. As your tongues move as one, you feel his hand by your thigh, and when he pulls back he says, "You ready?"

You nod, and then, remembering what he said earlier, cement it in words: "I'm ready."

"Alright, I'm gonna go slow, okay? It's gonna stretch more than earlier, but you just keep me clued in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a new sensation at your core, of wetness and something rigid. He's moving against your folds, finding no purchase in the remnants of earlier on, but then he nudges your clit and you jolt upwards and that's when he finds what he was searching for.

He nudges in quickly at first, enough to make you whine a pained sound. He matches it with a low grumble, a vibration right by your ear.

"You okay?" he's quick to ask, head rising to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah, just- slow, please."

"I've got you."

He doesn't move for a beat, eyes trained on the scrunch of your nose. He kisses it and feels you relax, so he keeps kissing, quick flashes over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. Each one brings new relief and as your back hits the bed again, he eases himself in a little more.

The stretch is definitely different; more. There's a burn, but it doesn't completely hide the wave of pleasure you get in the fullness.

"Gonna go a bit more," he tells you, and he does just that, going half an inch further, still watching for any sign of discomfort.

When you bring your knees up by his hips, he knows you're past the worst of it. He chants praise, telling you that you're doing so well, taking me so well as he keeps going, all the way until he's seated inside you, up to the hilt. You breathe in a gasp, filling your lungs, realising you'd been holding your breath for too long. And as you open your eyes, you find him staring down at you with concern and something else.

"You good?" he whispers with his face so close you feel the words as they settle on your cheek.

"Yeah."

"Good girl."

He punctuates this with a kiss, and then another, over the hill of your jaw and onto your throat. Your hands claw up his back, pulling him in until you're sure that if he were any closer, you'd fuse into one.

"Okay," he finally says, lips against the peak of your shoulder. "I'm gonna move. I'll go slow at first."

"Okay."

The feeling of him pulling out is new and nice, but it's nothing compared to the opposite. The combination of the two, the repetitive motion he picks up, is something you want to chase forever.

As he moves, he quickens, trying his best to keep his eyes open and attentive; it's difficult, though, when you feel this good.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' tight, shit-"

"Eddie, this feels amazing, uh-"

Your stomach twists into a coil again, quicker this time, and tightens as he picks up the pace. Above you he's all guttural moans and pretty groans, his lips grazing your cheek each time he moves, and soon his thrusts become too much. You're panting his name and he's panting yours, and along with the sound of skin on skin, that's all you can hear until he speaks gravel-churned words into your ear.

"Shit, 'm so close, fuck- Gotta get you there, baby, huh? C'mon, need you to come for me."

His words are joined by sloppy fingers between your bodies. They fumble in the dark, prodding your belly before finding slippery purchase on your clit. Sparks light up your body and all you can do in response is let it arch into him with a yelp of his name.

"You close?" he asks.

"Yes, yeah, shit, yes," you splutter back. It's like a chase, and you're catching up, quickly, quickly, quickly.

All of a sudden there's a white-hot flash that burns every inch of your insides. You tense, your body yawning open for him, wide and wanting; he doesn't relent, thrusts harder than ever, chases you in return as he feels you tighten around him. You release, the coil snapping, and he brings the pace down to see you through to the end.

There's cotton wool in your ears again but you make out his praises: "That's it, that's it, atta girl… C'mon, I've got you, you did so well."

When your breathing turns regular and your eyes ease open, you feel a warm knuckle on your cheek. He's still going slow, rutting in and out of you with ease now, and when you finally look at him he asks, "Gonna keep goin', that okay?"

You nod, throat closed for the time being so you make it as certain a nod as you can muster. His thrusts become quicker again, and the more he speeds up the sloppier he becomes. You feel sensitive, too warm but also too desperate to see, hear, feel him come undone inside you. It's not long until your wish is granted; soon his groans turn to whimpers and whines, and he calls your name as he shudders to a violent halt. It's intoxicating, experiencing this from underneath him; if this is what everyone's been talking about all these years, you understand why.

The room sways and whistles as he rests his weight on you. His breath, right beside your ear, is like a hot, damp rag, pulling at your sticky skin and the thrum of rushing blood. You hear him groan and then the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. The bed bounces gently as he huffs and flops down beside you, and, god, you wish so badly that you could keep those flutters under control because his clammy hand finds yours between your bodies and it's nice to feel the affection he's so devoted to giving you.

Sighing, he says, "Shit."

You laugh, scrunching your face.

"Yeah," you agree, "shit."

He squeezes your hand.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Really liked it."

"Okay for your first time?"

"Yeah." You turn onto your side to face him, looking up at his face. There are a few curls stuck to his pretty pink face, and you admire the bob of his throat as he swallows and the squeeze of his hand in yours.

"You're really pretty," you tell him. You're not sure if this is the post-O haze the magazines talk about, or if it's some kind of clarity, or if it's just that you have this boy in the palm of your hand and you suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go. Instead you want to plant anchors, heavy lines that will keep him right where he is.

He turns his head to look at you and you see him flush even more.

"So are you," he whispers, with another squeeze and a kiss to your forehead.

There are a few minutes of quiet after that. The light outside is gone for good, so he's glowing a low golden in the light of your bedside lamp. He kisses you again with a fondness that surely shouldn't come with this exchange, which you had rationalised as just that: a transaction, a mutual agreement to get something done.

You see him open his mouth, as if to speak, but close it again, so you reach a tentative hand up and brush some hair from his eyes and trace your knuckle down his temple, urging him.

"My friends," he begins, hesitant, "they're having a party, next weekend. Steve, he only lives round the corner, we passed his house on the way here... You wouldn't wanna come, would you?"

"With you?" you whisper into the fizzy darkness.

"Yeah." He smiles, eyes fluttering shut under your sweeping fingers. "With me."

"Is it a date?"

"It can be, if you want. Or we can just, y'know, go as friends, or whatever."

"No one's ever asked me on a date before."

He smiles, and it's soft and curled with an affectionate pity; one that says I'm sorry, that's not fair, it's nothing to do with you.

"Well, wanna come?"

"I'd love to."

He pulls your hand up and brings it to his mouth, where he kisses your knuckles. Goosebumps raise across your thighs and arms, and you realise you're cold.

He seems to sense your discomfort because you feel him shift beside you. He pulls you up with him and helps you climb off the bed on wobbly legs.

"I should pee," you tell him, heeding the warnings of girlfriends past.

"You should," he says, a little deflated.

You don't move, though. To move would be to acknowledge the end – the end of the transaction, of the favour. It's not something you want.

"I, uh," you begin, stumbling, "Don't- Do you want-"

"I can go now, if you want-"

"No, no, it's okay, I mean, you can go if you want, that's fine, I just-"

Your eyes are darting all over the carpet, skimming discarded clothes, so you don't notice him reach up until he's touching your face, holding it in his palm.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

He smiles at you, sticky with fondness and you can't help but smile back.

"I'm gonna shower," you tell him, leaning further into his grasp.

"I'll be here."

-

"Munson! You made it!"

In the middle of the busy room, there's a tall guy, broad and burly, like all the jocks you went to high school with. He's startlingly pretty, with golden hair and honeyed skin, a wide, bright smile plastered across his face.

He steps on unsure feet over to Eddie, who is stood partially in front of you; you're cowering behind him, willing the courage to lift you and push you into the arms of strangers. For now, holding his hand will do just fine.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie greets, meeting him in one of those boyish embraces. You look around, taking in the faces; it's not the level of the high-school parties you used to go to, and definitely not the circus of the frat ones you've sometimes found yourself at, but it's busy enough. Where the guy – Harrington – came from, in the living room, there's a circle of people who are all smiling in your direction.

"Who's this?" The guy is looking at you over Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie tells Steve your name, and then turns to you. "This is Steve."

"Hi," you say to him, smiling, trying your best to hide the cruel nerves.

"Nice t'meet you!" he beams back. It's infectious; your smile turns firm and genuine in return. "Here, come meet the gang."

"C'mon," Eddie whispers to you with a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls you through the entryway, into the large living room, following Steve. He drops your hand to give and return hugs, saying hello to each person. You stand and watch, unsure of what to do, until one of the girls – the first one Eddie greeted – appears by your side.

"Hey," she says, perhaps a little too close.

"Hi."

"I'm Robin." She sticks her hand out and you shake it clumsily.

Eddie's back, with his hand in yours again, on your other side. He calls her Rob and tells her your name, and then does the same for each person – Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, El – too many for you to remember tonight, but you have a feeling you'll see them again.

"Hi, guys," you return with a wave.

Everything settles after that. You take a seat next to Eddie on the couch, legs up and over his own, making conversation with Robin who you like a lot. Nancy comes over and introduces herself again and you find you like her, too.

And then Steve appears, having disappeared twenty minutes before. He's a little drunker, and he hands you and Eddie a can each. You take it gratefully and open it, taking a swig.

"So," he begins, sitting on the opposite side of the circle to yourself and Eddie. "You from Hawkins?"

"No," you tell him, and repeat the story you told Eddie.

"Sweet! So how'd you meet?"

You turn your head to look at Eddie and find him having done the same thing. His eyes are wide, just as wide as you're sure yours are.

"Uh," you begin, drawing out the sound to buy yourself time. 

"I did her a favour," he says, to your surprise, turning back to look at Steve with a sickly smile. "Just somethin' she'd put in the paper."

"That's so cute," Nancy says from behind you, her words chased by Robin adding a sarcastic, "Adorable."

The conversation moves on after that, and you turn around to Eddie again. He's looking back at you, his face pink and a smile tugging at his mouth. Before you can stop yourselves you're laughing, bursting into happy noises, bent double giggling.

He gives you another kiss, on the cheek this time, and quickly you settle back into conversations. The night is long and for the first time in a long time, it isn't lonely.

-

Hello! This is SO long - it really did take on a life of its own. I considered splitting it but couldn't find somewhere to do it, so I hope you enjoy this absolute beast nonetheless. I love you!

[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing [Part 4]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.6k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Silence… the hum of the RV engine you now sat in filling the air with something other than thought. Daryl was now on what used to be Merle’s motorcycle. You ditched his truck in an effort to save gas. Somehow that is what you were upset about. Not the fact you almost died in an exploding building or that the reason there was room in the RV for you was Jaquan choice of staying in that building. No, it was that dumb rusty truck that had you upset. The truck you had first seen Daryl working on. The truck you took to your first date and shared your first kiss. The start to your romantic relationship happening in those very seats. What a dumb thing to be upset about. You sigh finally turning to see what others in the RV were doing.

Andrea sat across from Shane. She was pouting, not getting her way of trying to kill herself. Dale had saved her yet she seemed like a child denied of a toy at the store. Your sadness about the truck flipped like a coin to detain and a little anger toward her. Mood swings were something you had while on your period. Always quick to realize why you had seemingly flip to one emotion and then the next a little to easily. Just took that first sign of blood to feel a sense of understanding to those emotions. But being pregnant was something else. You elected to practically sow your mouth shut because you were sure to pop with emotions at anyone or thing.

Your eyes moved back to the dirty RV window. Except now everyone had there attention out the windows to. Cars lining and blocking the highway. Some displeased grumbles rolling out of Dale’s mouth, Glenn and T-dog also looking displeased. Daryl rolled up to Dale’s driver side, “M’ gonna go ahead to look for a path, just go an follow me.” It wasn’t even a little while after that the constant hum of the engine spluttered and died. Now that got Dale to slump down in his seat cursing as he hobbled out of the RV opening the hood. While still seated inside the RV you saw a smoke cloud puff out floating up past the wind shield. Didn’t look too good, meaning it would take more time to fix. You took the lead of leaving your seat. If you were going to wait might as well stretch out your legs.

The sun hit you warming your skin. You heard Dale, “Yup dead in the water, don’t know how many times I have to say it…” You knew the thing could only take so much more tape. Rick appearing past one of the many cars, “Problem Dale?” You elected to ignore the conversation when Daryl rolled back in between cars. Walking straight to him he had a smirk and leaned back seeing you approach. You stood to his side putting an arm around his waist. His arm falling over your shoulder, “Piece of shit died again huh?” You sighed, “Thing is more tape than machine at this point.” Daryl chuckled electing to hop off the bike, also coming to the conclusion it would take a while to fix. You and him making your way back to the now gathered group.

“We will resupply up here.” Rick pointed to Dale and Glenn, “You both try and get this thing moving again.” He turned to T-dog and Daryl, “Maybe you both can start siphoning for gas. The rest of you try looking through the cars for anything useful.” It seemed like a good plan to you but before you could turn to start looking for things Lori spoke up, “This place is a graveyard.” Carol also chipping in, “This doesn’t feel to right to take from the dead.” Call you crazy or a bad person but you were looking forward to siphoning through all this stuff. Rick looked thoughtful but continued firmly, “We have to, remember to still have your guards up.” That left you to go about your business. Andrea seeming to head in the direction you were. She walked a little behind you and accidentally kicked something that was at her feet. The thing slid perfectly into your view. A baby bottle…

You and Andrea stop in your tracks. You both look around taking notice of other small toys splattered around and a baby carrier. A baby carrier that’s dirty with blood. You both look up catching the other’s eyes. Yours blank and her’s with a dreaded look. You left her there to contemplate as you went to go search a car. It was farther away than the one Andrea originally went for. Not wanting her to even try to talk about anything. You didn’t want to get in your own head. The car you went through was a small mini van. Looked like a quirky teens first car. Opening the trunk there was a duffle bag and suitcase. A empty tote bag fluttered to the ground. Going through clothes you found what looked to be a band shirt that was an extra large. Something someone would wear to bed maybe. It would make for a good maternal shirt down the road at least. You found new socks and a pair of heavy duty work boots, steal toed and all.

You decide after a while to look through the glove box. While moving around to go to the passenger door you tripped slightly on the bag you dropped. This caused you to turn and kick it off. Lo and behold in the corner of your eye you saw movement, walkers… There were so many of them. Far enough to have not seen you but to close to move any where. You slide down to the ground shimming under the low mini van. You didn’t want to lay on your stomach so you went on your back using your legs to scoot back. You felt jammed in but you needed under farther. Using the bottom of the car to push yourself with your legs. Your foot caught in a gap under the car. You couldn’t pull it out without making a lot of noise. The pressure of your foot was beginning to hurt. But the sound of a hundred feet stilled you. The smell of rotten flesh in the hot sun making you want to hurl.

A few walkers bumped into the car shaking it ever so slightly. It was enough movement however to twist your stuck foot. Now jamming it even farther into where it was. Hot metal touched your skin but you remain quiet. It seemed that there were still a few stragglers left so you wouldn’t have to bare this uncomfortable position for much longer. A few minutes of silence pass, that gave you the permission to start to free yourself. Now it would seem even more unwilling to let go of you. You tried to slip out of your busted running shoe but you didn’t have much of a distance to pull back with you laying down. A sharp object would dig into your ankle if you pulled. Then you started to hear a worried Daryl desperately calling your name. Well this was a little embarrassing…

Daryl POV

While he was on his motorcycle he couldn’t help but think of you saying I love you. Then seeing you happily approaching him when he rolled up on his bike further drove this feeling in his stomach. It was heavy, weighing on him but he couldn’t lie if he wasn’t enjoying it. You were already something new for him but, this was new. He was a fool for you. So when something threatened that it felt 10x worse. A horde from a direction they themselves just came from. He had no clue where you were and if it wasn’t for T-Dog needing his immediate help he might have gotten himself killed looking for you. He needed to remember that you could handle things, you’ve proven that much to him. But after the horde cleared he practically dragged a bleeding T-dog with him in search of you. “Y/N!?” While the yell wasn’t at the top of his lungs like he so wish to do it was still loud.

T-dog leaned against a car as Daryl looked over and under cars. But then T-Dog yelped making Daryl whip around in search of danger. A hand grabbed for T-dog, but your voice sounded from it as well, “A little help?” You sounded strained causing him to dropped down to his knees and lean down to look at you, “Are you hurt?” While you looked uncomfortable you still smiled at him, “Just stuck, think my foot is in between the suspension.” He sighed looking down farther to see where you were snagged, but when he looked back to your face it was pale in shock. Moving his eyes to your line of sight he saw a growing pool of blood on the ground. It came from a slumped T-dog, “He’s not bite, just cut himself on-“ a scream ripped through the air making the hair stand on his neck. Everything still for a second. Because that scream sounds like a little girl. Your voice cut through that stillness, “Go! Take T-dog with you, I’ll be fine down here a little longer!” Daryl didn’t like the idea of leaving you when you’re so vulnerable, but T-dog wasn’t looking to well and something had happen with the others. So he did as he was told. Though he didn’t like it. “Alright’ don’t go anywhere.”

While he lifted T-dog along his shoulders he heard you from under the car, “Yeah, ha ha…” He quickly shuffled back to the group with T-dog being tugged along by him. Faster he got whatever done sooner he could return to you. Dale took notice of them approaching first. However he could only focus on how Lori seemed to be holding Carol back. Dale had gotten closer why he stared off to the alarming situation, “Did he get bite.” Daryl set him down, “He got snagged by a piece of metal.” Carols cry’s made his skin crawl in an unpleasant way. Shane stood pacing near the forest. T-dog was the one to mumble out slightly slurred, “We heard a scream what happen?” Glenn spoke up while Dale tended to him as best he could, “Sophia got chased off by two walkers. Rick ran after her. Just hope they come back.” A sinking feeling of dread boar down inside Daryl. One thought drilled into his mind, ‘This world is not for a child.’ That didn’t feel to good to think. Dale after bandaging T-Dog looked around before worriedly questioning, “Where is Y/N?”

He was about to explained and take back off toward you when shuffling from the forest made everyone perk up. It was just a panting Rick, confused that Sophia wasn’t there. Panic quickly followed, Sophia was missing. Who better to look for her then a tracker, that’s why when people turned to him to find her he paused. You still needed his help and so did a little girl. The burning feeling in him told him to help you first but he knew that he himself didn’t have to be the one to help you, but Sophia did. You had said just at the beginning of the quarry that,

”Where there is people, there’s power.”

He didn’t trust anyone to keep you safe like him but this was exactly what you had been talking about. So before he got pulled along with Rick, Shane, and Glenn. He stopped Glenn, “My girl is stuck under a car, T-Dog can show you which. I can’t do this if I know she still needs help.” It was obvious by Glenn’s face he was surprised he was given such a task by the Dixon. Glenn gave him a determined look, “Ya man I got it.” Now he could only hope you were ok by the time he got back, hopefully with the little girl.

Your POV

When you had said you could stay down here a little longer you didn’t think 15 minutes would pass. Through all that time you still tried to wiggled your way out. All the twisting and pulling making your ankle feel raw. If you could only get your shoe off this would be so much easier, but you were literally pinned under a car. “Y/n?! Is it this one?” Glenn’s calls made you sigh with relief you saw two pairs of feet, “Glenn! Over here!” You saw the lower half of T-Dog slump against a car, least he wasn’t leaving pools of blood. Glenn’s face quickly appeared blocking your view. Your expression was probably very apparent to your discomfort and overall displeasure with the situation. Your voice came out in a slight pant due to being hot,

“What happened? Where is Daryl?”

Glenn looked down to see where your foot was before speaking, “Sophia got chased by a few walkers, Rick had killed them but now we can’t find her. Daryl is the only tracker we have so…” Ball of emotion stuck in your throat, Sophia had already had it bad and now she was in danger. It’s good Daryl went to go after her. Glenn now focused on your stuck leg not wanting to stare at the sad expression you wore. He slide under closer to your foot finally getting to see what your foot was stuck on. Glenn’s disgruntled mumbling told you nothing good, “Shit… Looks like car owner ran something over making a gaged edged hole.” You felt Glenn slide a hand around your ankle causing you to hiss in pain. Glenn winched but spoke with apology, “I can cover the sharp edge but you’re just going to have to pull back as hard as you can.” You sighed, “Try pulling the heal of my shoe off first.” Feeling his finger wiggle its way down your heal to slightly pop it out, then he moved your pant leg but paused and gasped.

“Your ankle is turning blue and purple.”

You needed out fast… while you did feel like you could feel it pulsating the thing that worried you was the throbbing was slowly replaced by a cool tingling. You brace your fist into the asphalt, “Then I need out now, I’m ready.” Glenn started to count down while blocking some of the sharper edges. When your foot original went through it pushed that metal back with. Now you had to pull against it, that is what had you stuck. You felt the pull on your skin before it ripped, that caused you to scream as you still pulled back as hard as you could. When your foot popped out of your shoe the release finally freed you. Glenn helped pulling you out from under the car. The first thing you noticed when the light hit you was the blood. Some scraps on your hands while pulling back on the road and blood running down your ankle into your sock. Glenn pulled your pants leg up as it too was ripped now. “Holy shit!” T-dog exclaimed while catching sight to the contrasting colors of red and the deep blue color of your skin.

You were lightheaded while now sitting up right. Your previous screaming had got the attention of the others, Dale followed by Andrea came hearing your pained screams. Your face felt flushed and you felt like you were sweating buckets, you started to slump slightly but Dale now was in front of you. You were dazed but Dale wrapped something around your leg snapping you back into some kind of alertness. Your eyes felt heavy but you still didn’t protest when Dale and Glenn held you from under your shoulders. Andrea helping a paling T-dog walk after you.

A headache started to form but the longer you were upright the more you got used to it. Maybe you were just a little too warm and the slight blood loss wasn’t helping. When you were sat in the shade next to the RV the breeze hit you immediately making you feel better. You heard voices asking questions but water was put in front of you which you gladly took. You felt slightly swarmed by people but Dale now had your pant leg rolled up and foot bandaged. Everyone moved closer to where Carol was by some metal guard rail as a figure came out of the woods behind it. It was Shane coming back alone, “Daryl and Rick are on her trail. She seemed to get spooked and took a wrong turn.” Carol just nervous shook and continued to stand starring out into the woods that you assumed Sophia ran off into. Shane now commanded people to get back to what they were doing previously, pushing out commands in a way that after hearing Rick’s way of leading made Shane seem less in some way. Not really bad but not good by any means. Oh boy and when he say you sitting on the ground next to the RV with an equally busted T-dog you wouldn’t like what followed from his mouth.

“Daryl just left you out there injured? Tsk, not surprised…”

He mumbled the last bit but you caught it. The fury you had to have a lock on seemed to chip a little, “Watch your mouth.” You sent a glare up at him as he gave you a surprised look not expecting any bark back. Even when it looked like you wanted to you never had. You’ve never really had a problem per se with Shane but he was starting to pull a feeling from your the reeked danger. Shane just tsked before bossing everyone around again. You glanced over to T-dog who was starring at you with his eyebrows raised which got you to chuckle. You leaned back closing your eyes. The air was nice but you now felt the ache back in your foot. Dale spooked you while you drifted off with your eyes closed. He helped move you into the RV, you pass a new stain on the floor but you lay down in the back choosing to ignore it. You were relaxing laying down, exhausted and now in pain. With you being pregnant you had only little experience with your ankles swelling, hence why you used to dip your feet into the quarry. Now this was just adding to it, Daryl isn’t going to like it that’s for sure.

Commotion happened outside, they had come back and by the sounds of it without Sophia. Carols cries and screams attributing to that, then you over heard the flutters of your name. Heavy steps came to the RV door before it creaked open with force. You could only hear heavy breathing as they moved to the back where you were lying down. Daryl’s frantic eyes landed on you searching your body for something. His hand moved to your face as the other rested on your stomach. He had came in so fast it took you a second to notice the blood on him.

Now here you are both worried about each other, “Are you ok!?” It was Daryl to get the first words out shortly after you, “Your covered in blood! Are you hurt?” You moved gripping on to his shirt now leaning into a sitting position. His arms pulling you into him, “is’ not mine.” He moved is words quickly while asking again, “Your both ok right?” You blinked up at him, taking in his words before stuttering out another concern, “I’ll be fine. Is… is Sophia?” You pointed down to the blood that ran down onto his pants as well. He sighed confirming you were not in such a bad shape as the others lead him to believe, ‘You should go look for yourself.’ With faces that said say your goodbyes. “It’s from a walker. Gettin to dark, don’t want to ruin her trail.” His eyes moved down to your foot, covered in bandages. “Picking up the search at dawn.” His eyes flicked back to yours questioning your injury. The look in his eyes reeked of guilt.

“It’s swollen, maybe sprained. The blood is from scraping in on metal, nothing deep I promise.” You saw him gulp and the way he was beating himself up inside. You knew he struggled with feeling like he was doing right by you. So you tapped him to look at you, “Hey, it would have been the same outcome if it was you dragging me out from that car.” He inhaled nodding while looking to you sheepishly, “Your in a shit ton of pain aren’t you?” You wrinkled your nose at him with a ‘no shit’ smile. You lean back laying down again, “Couldn’t even take the kind of medicine I would need while pregnant…” He sat close to your legs looking down to you his thumb went to his mouth and he chewed on it.

You turn you head looking at him knowing it was his nervous thinking habit, “Daryl…” His hand moved from his mouth, “Can I do anythin’ for ya?” He needed to feel helpful so you thought for a second before giving him an awkward smile, “Yes actually, something that I think I’d only let you do.” Now that was something that peaked his interest. He quirked an eyebrow at you expectantly so now you took a step in your relationship you’ve had yet to cross, “I’m gonna need your help going to the bathroom.” You had yet to really get into that part of the relationship, the weird stage you would say. Closest you’ve come is when on the rare nights where Merle was out of the house and you stayed over an he would watch you frantically get ready in the morning to open the store. He would sit back and just watch, simpler times he supposed.

He didn’t even say anything before dragging his arms under you and lifting you into his arms. Her wish is his command. He knew the RV bathroom hadn’t worked for a while so someone would’ve have to hold you while went about your business. Ya definitely a him only thing. The others only glanced seeing him carry you off somewhere. You’re not gonna lie this was embarrassing. He set you down on your good foot helping you balance. You watched his eyes glance around the wooded area he took you. You giggled causing him to look back to you. You smiled, “This is weird…” He ended up having to hold both your hands as you crocheted down. Daryl just scoffed completely nonchalant, “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

5 minutes later Daryl was seen carrying you back just before it became truly night. In the RV Carol now was laying in the spot you once were. She faced the wall in an attempt to hide her cries. Daryl looked uncomfortable but you put a finger to your lips before trying to wave him back. You would sleep that night in a car you cleared out. With a window crack to let in some fresh air in. But throughout the night Carols cries was to much for the Dixon next to you. You would sometimes wake at the sound only to see Daryl still awake next to you. But you couldn’t help the exhaustion that pulled on you. You felt him move next to you leaving you to groggily open your eyes to look if something had happened. In the morning it took you a moment to put together it actually happened and Daryl left to go look for Sophia. He had whispered, “Can’t take it, M’ go lookin’.” Which you guess you mumbled a tired, “Be careful.” and knocked back out. The next time you woke up he was next to you again seeming to not even had left your side.

In the early morn the search party was formed. You, T-dog, and Dale being the only to remain at the highway. Before Daryl left he personally cleaned your wounded ankle. Seeing for himself gave him peace knowing the swelling was the problem and not the cuts. You told him you would stay off your feet and you did. Sitting in the shade next to T while Dale stayed on watch. You hasn’t really talked to them personally only knowing things from them that others have asked and you just heard. So here you were talking trying to pass the time waiting for the others to come back.

“So you don’t mind me asking if he was a one night stand?”

You had told them you really didn’t mind any question. You chuckled replying to T-dog, “Oh trust me this-” You point to the small bump of your stomach, “Did not happen over night.” You raised an eyebrow suggestively at the implication. That got Dale laughing with T-dog making a face like he didn’t like the image going on in his mind. You shift back leaning your head on your hand in thought, “Honestly the reason I even met Daryl and started dating him was because I was running away from getting in a relationship in the first place.” They both look at you to continue seeming interested in you and the Dixon. “My parents thought I was throwing away my life by not being pregnant and married by 20. Very religious…. So I left not wanting to conform to there ideas.” You slip a hand to your stomach, “Guess they got what they wanted in the end. At least I got to pick the man.” You smiled fondly at the thought… ya you got the man you wanted.

Other then T-Dogs high fever and possibly infected arm, there wasn’t much to do so you took a nap in a quest to quell the deep rooted exhaustion in you. You woke up hearing unhappy voices. They were back and your guess no Sophia. You hopped you way to the RV door opening it gaining everyone’s eyes. You noticed that it wasn’t only Sophia to not be with them. Daryl looked stressed and when he saw you balancing on a leg in the door he moved to help you. You worriedly asked, “What’s going on, where is everyone else?” By your count Lori, Shane, Rick, and Carl were gone.

Daryl had his hands around your waist keeping you balance. The look he had was a mix of pissed but also upset. His teeth unclenched before he spoke giving a strain to his voice, “No sign of Sophia, worse Carl has apparently been shot.” You gasp slightly wobbling leading him to pull you to regain balance. A ball of pressure was felt in your throat but you choked it down to speak, “Where are they?” Daryl could hear your attempt at holding in your emotions, something he knows you have been struggling to do. He sighed running a hand down your arm, “Some lady on a horse took Lori after saying Carl was shot. They have a doctor treating him at there farm.” Your grip on him tightened, ‘another kid…’ no you couldn’t finish that thought a second further. Daryl’s face however looked like he had more to say, more to say that he was not happy about. He bite the edge of his lip before speaking.

"Glenn is taking T-dog to that farm for the doctor, I said you were going with him."

His face reeked of guilt, and the unpleasant feeling left in your stomach probably didn't translate well to your face. He at the sight of your obvious dislike to the idea tried to sputter out why, “Just don’t need anythin’ happen to you… and them.” You sighed, you weren’t planning on arguing about it with him, “I know you’re right I should go. Just don’t like us splitting up, makes me nauseous at the thought.” You eyes behind to form a slight sheen, before Daryl could say anything you beat him to it, “Said I was going to follow your lead didn’t I?” Daryl’s shoulders unclench from tension, he slide his arm under your legs and picking you up by your thighs. The sudden action making you panic and grab around his shoulders. “What are you-“ he walked inside the RV mindful of your head not wanting to slam it on the doorframe.

Before you knew it you were sat down with him at your side, he moved his handed on top of yours. His shy approach reminding you of your first date. “It’s ok you know. To scream, to cry, get mad. You’re gonna burst.” Your lip trembled, so it had been clear to him your battle with yourself. You sigh leaning on his shoulder, “I know… I just can’t seem to do it in front of everyone in fear we will be cast out. We were already outsiders once.” That comment surprised him, not expecting your reasoning. His arm circled around your shoulder, “I’ll take you out hunting when your better. Scream and cry all you want then.” You chuckle, in all honesty most of the time you go frustrated or overwhelmed with sudden emotion Daryl unknowingly helped ease everything. Silence fell comfortably between you both simply enjoying your remaining time together before you part.

Now you find yourself in the back seat of a truck. Glenn in the driver seat and T-dog in the passenger. You watch him pull up to a gate next to a mail box ‘Greener’ written in faded paint. After getting through and closing the gate, the road lead to a farm house. The porch now filling with people at the sound of your guys car. You were left in the back seat while Glenn rushed a declining T-dog, pill bottle bag that you learned was from Merle in hand. Surprising he had useful drugs with him, and not so surprising that he had drugs with him. It was a long time before you decided to get out the car yourself Glenn be damned. You hopped until reaching the porch leg throbbing at the use, it was tired of being the only one keeping you standing. You sat on the stairs to the porch. It sounded like something had happened inside but the commotion was just now subsiding.

You looked on to see open space filled with animals and not a walker in sight. You sat there in thought until a loud, “Oh shit!” broke your peace, Glenn stumbled out of the front door only to stop seeing you sat on the steps. He moved closer to you offering a hand to get up, "I'm so sorry, everything was moving so fast and I forgot you couldn't walk." He sighed with a twinge of remorse, "T-dogs all patched up so lets get you looked at." You sat up with the aid of Glenn and got into the house. Glenn was moving to sit you on a chair but you were lost in thought at the sight of a lamp on. It felt weird seeing a light on now. An older women appeared from a hall, "Hello dear, My name is Patricia." She approached gently, looking down to your legs noticing you were missing a shoe and for good reason. You foot was swollen and a ring of black formed around your ankle with purple spreading from it. She gasped before you could even introduce yourself. She turned looked back to the hall and called out, "Maggie! I need you to get some ice!" She knelt down raising your foot to rest on another chair.

A younger women came quickly around the corner. "Could only find a frozen bag of- who is this?" You looked like a deer in headlights then you hissed and flinched as fingers moved around your foot. A scab that had started to tried and form now knocked off your skin causing blood to slowly drip down. Patricia turned to the girl you could only assume to be Maggie, "Another of there group." Glenn was stood sheepishly off to the side, "I kinda forgot her in the car." The sterile smell of alcohol reached your nose before you felt the sting to your injure. You lean back with a hiss, before Patricia could mumble out an apology you spoke through the pain, "How ah- How's Carl? Is he ok?" A second of silence followed for Glenn decide to speak, "Alive, semi-stable. Shane and one of theirs is out looking for the stuff to fix him. Hershel is the doctor and is with Carl right now, he- he had a stroke few minutes ago."

A bandage had been wrapped around your leg while you listened. You let everything sink in only looking back up when a rag follow by a cold weight being laid over it. Looking down a zip lock bag filled with peas adding a relief in the constant burn that was your ankle. You sigh leaning back into a slump the diner room chair backing pressing into your back. A door opened somewhere in the house, then you see Rick. Lori at his side almost as if she was the sole reason he could stand. He was pale but also sweating making his hair stick to him. He wobbled to a couch with Lori, not before you catch a sight of the bandage wrapped around his inner arm. It was strikingly clear now why he wasn't with Shane. He was Carl's blood source. The depth this man is going for his son is admirable if not heartbreaking. Close to having blood lose it seems.

Why is it so hard to keep these kids safe, and what were you and Daryl going to have to do to keep yours alive.

Part 5

Feedback welcome and requests open!

Got diagnosed with depression and put on anti-depressants. So hope my story writing will become more frequent. Sorry for stalling on uploads. They also took 5 out of 7 vials of blood…. They stopped because I passed out at 5.

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[astr0n0va1]

𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟏

Hey guys this is the official part 1 of the 6 part series 𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, enjoy and feel free to reblog, and share your thoughts. - N0va 2,156 words Songs: Algo Magico By Rauw Alejandro, Mi Santa by Rauw Alejandro

*SOMEWHERE IN THE STREETS OF MIAMI

After Y/n sent Armando the location of the home he strapped his duffel bag to the backseat of his bike and got ready to start his motorcycle when he noticed a car parked not far from him.

He looked back, brushed it off, placed his helmet on, started his motorcycle, and started driving. It wasn't until he had passed 2 blocks and noticed that the car was following him. He sped up trying to lose the car, but the driver kept up. Armando saw a nearby alley and went down it to stop the car from following him.

In the alleyway, he stopped for a second and tried to call Mike, but it went to voicemail. Then he received a text from an unknown number.

"Hola Señor Aretas, nos vemos pronto. - tu flor favorita"

He blocked the number and brushed it off trying to ignore some old memories flooding into his head. There was no way it was her, there was technically no possible way of it. He took a deep breath, placed his helmet on, and made his way to his destination.

>>> Now in Downtown Miami at the getaway house*

You, Dorn, and Kelly were the first to arrive out of everyone, which you were expecting as you knew Rafe would show up later with the booze, and Armando would probably be the last one there.

As you all settled in you decided to give Dorn and Kelly the master bedroom as they were the only couple on the trip. You took the second biggest bedroom at the end of the hallway, this left the bedroom across and next to you available to Armando and Rafe.

As you set your suitcase down Dorn and Kelly came into your room.

"I'm starving." Dorn comments.

"So.." You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not like your attitude, Missy," Dorn responds.

"Dorn leave her alone, she hasn't gotten any in a while," Kelly said, trying to whisper the last part.

"I heard that," you said as you threw a pillow at the both of them.

"Y/n you need to put yourself more out there that's all we are trying to say," Kelly said in a sympathetic tone.

"I don't blame her have you seen the dickheads that approach Y/n, so if you ask me take your time and don't just fuck dickheads just because you're sexually frustrated and alone," Dorn advised you.

"Thanks Dorn, I will keep in mind the fact that I am sexually frustrated and alone." You said before getting up from the bed and making your way to the kitchen.

Kelly hit Dorn's head, "Asshole." She said

"What'd I do?" he said.

"LET'S GO LOVEBIRDS, DINNER ISN'T GOING TO MAKE ITSELF," you yelled from the kitchen.

As they made their way down, the door opened and Rafe made his way in with bottles of booze and a hookah.

"Why'd you bring a hookah?" You asked Rafe.

"Because we are getting lit this weekend and because of our jobs we are not allowed to get high, so we have to smoke something." He said before placing all the stuff down on the counter.

"So what should we make for dinner?" You asked.

"I don't know what we have in the fridge," Kelly said while she opened the fridge.

"Ok we have enough ingredients to make burgers which I say we save for tomorrow, or pasta for tonight," she said while taking a closer look inside.

"Ok, pasta it is." She said while pulling out some of the ingredients.

You and Kelly both started preparing things while Rafe and Dorn started setting up something on the TV and the speaker. About 20 minutes had passed and there was a knock at the door. Rafe went to answer and found Armando at the door.

"Hey man, glad you made it.” He said while letting Armando in the house.

Armando made his way into the house examining it as he walked. He made his way to the living room where he greeted Dorn who took him to the kitchen where you and Kelly were.

“Hi, Armando.” You said and went back to what you were doing.”

“Hey Y/n thanks for the invite.  ” He said, placing his duffel bag down on the chair. He then saw Kelly a few inches away from you and just sent her a nod, to which responded with a small nod. 

“Yeah, no problem.” You said before turning back to the stove.

“If you want, tell  Rafe to take you to the rooms and by the time you’re back dinner will be served. After the dinner, Y/n can show you the house so you can get familiar with it.” Kelly said before grabbing the plates.

“Oh ok, thanks Kelly,” Armando said before making their way to Rafe so they could go upstairs. 

You and Kelly served the food and put the plates on the table, and by the time you both sat down, everyone was at the table. Dinner was good. You all talked, made jokes, and laughed.  After you all finished you picked up the plates from the table and then went to start the sink to start washing everything, since the kitchen was now a mess. 

“Y/n I’m sorry I’m tired and so full, do you mind cleaning up by yourself,” Kelly asked you.

“It’s fine, I understand, you guys can go to bed, I got it.” You said.

She blew you a kiss and walked off with Dorn who was waiting for her at the stairs. 

“Goodnight Y/n,” said Rafe as he also went upstairs.

“Night Rafe,” you responded.

As you finished loading cups and utensils into the dishwasher you felt someone next to you.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asked.

“No, I got it.” You said.

He still grabbed a rag and started cleaning surfaces and the stove. You were surprised you didn’t think he would be like this.

“I’m kind of surprised I wasn’t expecting you to be…” He cut you off.

“Surprised of what, that I cleaned, or that I showed up?” He said with a small intrigued smile.

“Well, both 'cause I didn’t know this side of you. I don't know, it just seems more calm” You replied.

“I mean yeah everyone thinks I only know how to kill and fight,” he says.

“Fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way.” You said.

“It’s okay I understand, it’s not like I have shown the rest of my personality. So trust me, it’s ok.” He responds trying to make you feel better.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it that way, it's just that when I'm nervous I tend to just speak and not think.” You explained as you loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and closed it.

“Do I make you nervous?” Armando asked as he placed the rag on a rack so it could dry.

“Yes but not for the reasons you might think.” You said.

You dried your hand and took him on a tour of the house, you showed him the pool/backyard area, the laundry room, and the small house gym it had inside. And then start to make your way to the garage.

“And this is the garage, the last place we needed to cover the whole house.” You said while guiding him in. 

“It’s a nice place, I parked my bike out front. Is it okay if I bring it in here?” He asked while still examining the garage.

“Yeah of course,” you said before opening the garage door for the last spot.

He made his way out and in about 2 minutes he came back on his motorcycle. Something about him on the motorcycle made you feel hot, he noticed you staring. 

“You want to take a ride?” he asked.

“Is it safe this late at night?” you respond, even though you knew you wanted to get with no doubt.

“Yeah we will be fine, let's go.” He said while offering you his helmet.

“But what will you wear?” You asked as you took the helmet in your hands.

“I’ll be fine,  I'm experienced and your safety is more important anyway,” he said while starting the bike. You felt your face get hot when he said that your safety is more important. So you took the helmet put it on and hopped on behind him.

“Is it okay if I put my arms around you, I’m not sure what to hold on to?” You asked. When the words left your mouth you realized what you had just said. 

“Yeah, whatever you want.” He said. 

You put your arms around his waist causing your body to come into very close proximity with his. To the point where your whole body was pressed to his back and your arms were looped around his waist.

“You ready?” He asked.

You responded with a nod and he started to back up out of the garage, and into the street. Before you knew it you guys were riding around the streets of Miami, and all of it felt good. The wind, the adrenaline, and the feeling of Armando’s body close to you. He smelled amazing; it was like a woody and Ambery scent that just made you want to stay on top of him for the whole night.

Before you realized it you were both making your way back into the garage. The bike came to a stop, and you unclasped your arms from around his waist and took off the helmet. 

“Thank you, that was fun,” you said before getting completely off the bike.

“Yeah anytime Princess,” he said before placing his helmet on the bike and shutting the garage door. You gave him a small nod and walked back into the house. On your way to your room, you remembered the feeling of being on the bike with him, his scent, and how he called you Princess. This caused you to smile like a little kid in a candy store. 

When you made it into your room you decided to take a shower. But when you started taking your shirt off you felt his scent on your shirt, and instead of throwing it in your laundry bag, you threw it to your bed. 

You took a nice hot shower washed your hair too, did your skincare, and put your hair in a towel waiting for it to dry. You put on pajamas and lay on your bed for about 30 minutes waiting for your hair to finish drying. But then until you got thirsty and decided to go get a water bottle.

You opened your door and took a peek down the hallway and noticed that the downstairs light was on. You remembered turning it off, so it had no reason to be on. You quietly made your way downstairs to the kitchen where you found Armando looking through the fridge. Before you said anything you took a moment to admire his toned arms and abs that trailed down to his lower stomach area.

You snapped out of it and finally decided to say something. 

“Hey did you need something?” you asked pretending you were just now walking into the kitchen. 

“Yeah I was looking for cold water but there aren’t any in here.” He replied. As soon as he said that his eyes examined your body and what you were wearing. 

“I think I have a water case in my trunk. Do you mind bringing it in?” you asked.

“Yeah I can.” you then led him to the garage and grabbed your keys from the key holder to unlock your car. You could feel him staring at you, but you weren't sure if he was staring for the right reasons. But then you were wearing pajama shorts that sat on the tip of your ass, and your cropped spaghetti strap wasn’t helping but that was what you packed.

After he brings the water in and places it on the counter, you lock your car, grab a water bottle, and start walking upstairs which he follows behind you. Now you both stood in front of your room doors.

“Thank you for bringing the water in.” you spit out trying not to get distracted by his figure.

“Yeah no problem,” he said before you could turn the knob for your door. 

“OK. Goodnight Armando.” You shortly replied. And before you closed your door you heard it.

“Goodnight princess,” he said before fully closing his door.

You closed your door and your face began to feel hot again, you were blushing. At that moment you realized you did have a crush on Armando. You laid on your bed replaying the moments from tonight and little by little fell asleep. 

Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you were going to need all the energy you had.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cardi-bre91 @believeinthefireflies95 

______________________________________________________________

Hi guys hope you guys liked it, share your thoughts and the next part might take me more time because it is longer but will be posted in the 2-3 days. <3

[xsleepinggoodx]

I saw you did an ideal type of girl for Mikey. Can I have the same requests for Baji and Shinichiro, please? 🥺🫶

Dark-haired guys got me on a chokehold it is not funny anymore 🥲

YES TY SM FOR REQUESTING

That’s so real, literally any Tokyo revengers character solos every anime boy there is like I’m not even joking😭( the whole Sano family got me kicking my feet like even the grandfather. I saw a fanart on when was young and I was dang😍)

But here you go love!

—————————————————————————

SHNICHIRO SANO

- everyone and their mother knows that poor Shinichiro was rejected 20 times. But they say the one finds you when you stop looking for them, and that’s what happened to Shinichiro when he found you. He gave up at that point, firmly believing that no one would love him and he’d die single. That is until a certain, girly walked in his bike shop, asking for a decent, good bike that’s fast. His heart beat up at the sight of you, you just looked so alluring and attractive. He was in a love daze as you were talking, explaining what bike you wanted.

- I think Shinichiro needs someone who is sweet and kind, and able to understand easily. As we see in the manga, he loses his patience and can be harsh when he’s in anger. He needs someone who is compassionate and willing to take any heat from him.

- of course he will try his hardest not to lash out on you when he’s angry. He’d be so sweet to you and lash out on someone else. But even that’s no good to you, like Mikey, he needs a moral compass. Someone who will teach him right from wrong.

- it’s very hard to grow up without a father figure and having to take the lead of raising 2 kids along with another raging teen, Shinichiro is an overwhelmingly stressed and needs your tender love to soothe him, you alone soothes him. The very thought of you staying by his side is comforting him in ways you don’t even know.

- He has the big brother personality engraved in him so he’s very protective of you. Headcanons include him always having his hand on you lower back, or him holding your hand, walks behind you all the time, shielding his arm around your shoulder. When you’re sitting down on a bench, he has his arm around the bench behind you with his legs crossed talking to you so close. (When men do this I always get butterflies😛)

- As in looks, he doesn’t really care what you look like either, though I imagine him as someone who prefers a girl with long hair like Kuroo does😭 he thinks long hair girls look like princesses. If you had bangs too, he’d be all over you. Kissing you as much as you let him.

-he has been through so much, just make sure to stay by his side and you’ll be his number one. He’s planning to marry you when he has everything figured out <3

—————————————————————————

BAJI KEISUKE

- Baji was voted number 1 in best lover of Tr♥️ you already know 😍😍

- Baji is fierce, hot headed and outspoken. He appears to have a strong, intimidating demeanor but under all of that, he’s respectful and loving. He treats you so well and so nicely it keeps you up at night smiling.

- he needs someone who’s a almost the opposite of him. He was always smitten by the nice, soft girls when he grew up so he needs someone who is loving and loyal. Who stays by his side even when you don’t understand his reasonings. Someone who would do crazy stuff with him like burn abandoned cars. Someone who isn’t a kill joy with these things.

- he’d adore you if you found simple things like going to a gas station late at night more just riding his bike together with you at night exciting. His eyes would be glued to your face the whole night. Noting what excites you and what makes you happy so he could do it more often. He loves seeing you happy and enjoying every moment.

- Shares everything with you. He might’ve been an only child, but his mom taught him good things that make him a gentleman. He would share his food, earphone, anything you ask.

- he needs someone who is selfless. Someone who puts others feeling before theirs.

- for looks, he doesn’t care, as long as you’re healthy, he’s satisfied💕

—————————————————————————

Ty again so much for requesting <3

Please request more of these! I find them fun!

[alpaca-clouds]

How to make a "world" more accessible

Let's talk a bit about accessible worldbuilding. I am thinking here first about Solarpunk worlds, but also about other scifi and fantasy worlds, that often do not think about this at all. Again, there is this nasty tendency to just assume that there are no disabilities in those worlds - and it leaves disabled people often feeling left out.

One of the most basic accessibility features one would expect to see in a world would be some sorts of ramps. And don't get me started with "oh, in my world wheelchairs fly!", which is something that actually not all folks reliant on wheelchairs want - as the actual hand-moved wheelchair often gives them a certain control.

It should also be noted that ramps help not only wheelchair users, but also people with baby strollers, and folks who might use other mobility aids like rollators. Heck, in my life ramps have also helped me, when I was travelling with a large trunk. Really, ramps make life easier for a lot of folks! Heck, if we think about a solarpunk world, where hopefully a lot of folks would get around by bike, ramps would help as well.

Of course, in some cases (if feasible in the technology level) there might also be a need for some sort of elevator. Again, not only wheelchair users will make use of that.

Another thing that should help, would be a wider usage of stuff like orientation systems for blind people. Currently those things are fairly spotty. Like some places have them, other places don't. And even where they are implemented, a lot of folks do not know what they are and will walk over it and park their cars on it. Stuff like that, which will once again make stuff more dangerous and inaccessible for blind people.

Then there should more accessibility accomondations for people who are deaf or hard of hearing. Those could mean to install visual signals for warning systems, which often currently are mainly auditory. It could also mean a wider usage of stuff like subtitles if possible in the world. And it also could mean that in the world people are more encouraged to learn sign language.

But those are the obvious disabilities. The stuff folks think off first when they hear "disability".

But there are other disabilities. Personally, for example, I do have some issues with my bowels. So what would be important to me is easy access to toilets whereever I move around. Which also is to say: Yes, dear public transport. Not having a single accessible toilet in your fucking train is an accessibility issue and ableistic.

Or the one accessibility aspect that has slowly been taken away recently due to hostile architecture: Benches and other places in public to sit down on. Because a lot of folks just cannot stand/walk for a long while. This is true for old people, and recently increasingly too for folks disabled through COVID.

There is also the need for shaded areas. As there are several disabilities that do not deal well with direct sunlight. Be it people who react allergic against sunlight, be it people whose eyes cannot deal with too much light, or be it people who might just struggle with their circulation when in the direct sun for too long.

And then there is allergic people. Which is also a big chunk - and in some cases can be quite debilitating. And I might remind people: In a fantasy or scifi world there might be people allergic to some of the worldbuilding stuff. Like in the Witcher Triss is allergic against magic, and in the nice sapphic webcomic Always Human one of the two main characters is allergic against bio-implants. Hence, ideally in an accessible fantasy/scifi world it would be easy to access what kinda stuff is in a potion and what not, to allow folks to be safe.

Lastly, of course, there are neurodivergent folks and... about that I am going to talk tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way: If you are disabled and have ideas of how the world could be more accessible for you... Please feel free to add!

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

The reader is a Marines daughter she runs to work every day. Tony asks why she doesn't drive as she should be able to afford a car now. Embarrassed she tells them she has her permit but her father never had time to teach her to drive (a lie). He tells her tobuy a bike to her horror she Embarrasses herself more by letting it slip she doesn't know how to ride one that her father only taught her life saving things not stuff for "fun". Everyone just kind of moves on as she hides her embarrassment well from everyone but Gibbs who sees right through it. Later she asumes everyone left she mumbles to the picture of her father "hey dad do you think a bike or driving lessons are useless now"

You Ain't Alone

Word Count: 1k+

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this up! Hopefully this is okay! I went at a more father/daughter aspect between Gibbs and the reader! I loved this suggestion though!

Your alarm blares loudly, and you jolt awake before letting a heavy breath out. You reach over, silencing the loud alarm as you know you have to get up and get ready. As much as you craved to sleep in, you couldn’t because you had to get to work on time. You got home later last night due to the case you guys got. Gibbs seemed more irritated and was insistent on getting justice for these female petty officers who have fallen victim. 

You get up and quickly get dressed in black yoga pants and a cropped long sleeve white shirt that is almost like spandex. You put your hair up into a ponytail before stuffing your outfit for the rest of the day into the backpack you bring to and from work. 

You lock up your house before you begin your normal run to work. It was pretty therapeutic although you do wish you could just drive to work in the mornings. It meant you could leave your house later for work which would be nice. 

You reach the familiar Navy building and slow down until you're walking. You get in the building and curse quietly after realizing that you had gotten here about ten minutes later than normal. Gibbs holds the elevator for you, your entire team must have gotten here at the same time.

“Y/N, why don’t you just drive to work instead of run? Surely you have the money to afford a car now.” Tony asks and your cheeks flush red.

“I-erm, well I-I only have my permit. My dad never had time to teach me to drive.” You stutter out, your face growing even more hot in embarrassment. 

“Why doesn’t your dad have time to teach you to drive?” He asks, confused.

“Oh…my dad…he wa–he is a Marine. My entire life…he’s been mostly overseas. It’s been me and my aunt and even she wasn’t there a lot because she was a doctor.” You explain quietly.

You were mortified and you just wanted this elevator ride to end, but it seemed like it wasn’t ever going to end. 

“So, buy a bike.” Tony says.

“I don’t know how to ride a bike.” You say before you squeeze your eyes shut and sigh.

You heard the familiar headslap as Tony whines, asking Gibbs why he got smacked and you were the first off the elevator, rushing to the restrooms where you go to a stall and start to change. You let a puff of air out and shake your head as you pull the black dress pants up before buttoning the white blouse. You pull on your boots and tie them before walking out of the stall with your bag. You fix your ponytail before spritzing yourself in perfume. 

“God, you just had to embarrass yourself.” You grumble, grabbing your face and shaking your head. 

You were eager to start working, thankfully they all had disregarded the elevator which was nice. The day passed slowly and you were sitting at your desk even after everyone had gone home. The entire day the elevator conversation seemed to haunt you. 

You look at a picture of your father and you frown. He wasn’t around much in your life and when he was, you were to refer to him as “sir” and he would give you life saving lessons, never anything fun in life. You begged and begged for him to teach you to drive, but he said no. He thought that was a fun thing, not something you’d need later in life. 

Gibbs stood on the second level, watching you. He could tell that you were embarrassed all day. You tried to hide it from the rest of the team, but he could see right through you. He quietly makes his way behind the bullpen and you sigh. 

“Hey dad, do you think bike or driving lessons are useless now?” You mumble as you grab the picture of him. 

He frowns, watching you. He casually rounds into the bullpen, hearing your startled gasp. He goes to his desk and works on some files before abruptly looking up. 

“Y/L/N?” He asks. 

“Yes?” You ask softly. 

“How tired are you?” He asks. 

“Not tired at all actually.” You say confused. 

“Didn’t you say you have a permit?” He asks. 

“Erm, yes.” You murmur, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Alright, come on. I’m going to teach you to drive.” He says, grabbing his coat.

Your lips part in surprise and he sends you a grin, walking towards the elevator. You eagerly get up, following him to the elevator as excitement fills you.

You couldn’t believe it…you were officially a licensed driver. You had yourself a car and here you were, sitting in it in the NAVY yard parking lot. This was real. 

You knew you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gibbs. He has taught you several things in the past few weeks like, driving, riding a bike, fishing, how to cook the best steaks, and how to build a boat. This man has been more of a father to you than your own. The bond you have with Gibbs has tripled these past few weeks. On top of that, you always feel a little emotional thinking back on these past few weeks. He didn’t have to help you, yet he did. 

“I saw your new ride.” Tony says as you step in the elevator and you blush.

“I’m officially a licensed driver.” You say excitedly.

“That’s good!” He says with a grin. 

You walk off the elevator together, heading towards the bullpen and Gibbs looks up at you.

“How’d the driver’s test go?” He asks.

“I passed…got my license and I might’ve finally got myself a car with what I saved up. Look!” You exclaim excitedly, showing him your license and he grins.

“Good job, Y/N/N.” He praises and you smile softly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Gibbs. Thank you so much.” You say.

“Y/N/N, you ain’t alone. We are a family. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for something. My door is always open.” He says, softly smiling at you.

“Literally.” Tony laughs and both of you roll your eyes before you hear a headslap.

You turn back and see Ziva laughing as Tony glares at her. You look back at Gibbs, not before seeing Tim hunched over laughing as Tony tried to make a defense against Ziva. Gibbs had a big grin on his face and you smile, this was your family.

[xetswan]

Youngest Shadow- Sick Days

One | two | three | four | five | six |

Since it’s getting warmer students around me are wearing shorter clothing even though it’s barely sixty degrees.

And collectively we all sit outside for lunch today, but of course it’s the one day I got sick. Plus on our big game day and due to my fever that keeps growing I’m going to have to leave school early and miss out on maybe being in the newspaper.

“He’s not here.” Jessica says, startling me as everything makes me jumpy from how shitty I feel. “Whenever the weather is nice the Cullens disappear.”

“They just ditch?” Bella asks, not understanding.

“No, Dr, and Mrs Cullen yank em out for hiking and camping and stuff. I tried the idea out on my parents, no even close.” Jessica sighs. Bella takes it all in and I cough earning a look from Jessica who was sitting on the ground. I just put my head down.

“I’m going to the prom with Eric! I just asked him, I took control!” Angela jumps on the table in between Bella and I, hugging my sister as I lift my head back up to smile. “That’s amazing,” my voice is hoarse and I cough as it strains my throat.

“Oh, [Name] are you okay?”

“She’s running a fever and her throat is bothering her.” Bella explains for me that and I’m internally grateful for it. “I’m sorry.” Angela says, rubbing my back then talking to Bella again.

She ends up keeping a hand on my back which feels nice. I repeatedly keep shivering from occasional breezes.

“Are you sure you have to go out of town?” Angela asks Bella, “it’s a family thing, [Name] is staying though.” I put my thumbs up to confirm that.

“Oh my god, we need to hit the stores in Port Angeles before the dresses get cleaned out.” Jessica gasps,

“Port Angeles?” Bella asks, “can I go with you guys?”

My face scrunches even though they can’t see it, Bella? Dress shopping? If only I wasn’t sick I would love to see this.

“Thank god, we need your opinion.” Angela says.

I end up leaving right after lunch, sneaking past school staff to get to my motorcycle I luckily got back from Jacob yesterday. I tried calling my dad but it just rang through, I’m guessing something is going on to where he can’t answer.

I take my helmet out of Bella’s truck bed and roughly tug it on my head. I lazily try to put my leg over the bike, almost falling so I hold on to the truck. Giving myself a minute as I feel dizzy. A horn honks, scaring me to the point where I hear my heart beat thump in my chest.

“[Name]! What are you doing?”

Alice? Wasn’t she supposed to be hiking or some shit? I go to talk but my tongue feels too big for my mouth. I take a deep breath. “I don’t feel good, I’m trying to get home.” I try to say as loud as I can, even then doesn’t feel loud enough.

“Want me to take you home?” She goes to reach over and I shake my head. “I gotta get my bike home somehow.” I take a few steps closer to her car. “I’ll have Jasper bring it over.” She smiles, I tilt my head, squinting as I looked at her.

Get into her car? Or drive home myself?

“Where do I put my keys?” I jingle them too close to my face. “Hide them on Bella’s truck tire, closest to the bike.” She instructs me and I drag my feet back over to my bike, doing as told. I then take my helmet off, putting it on the bike for Jasper.

I climb into her car as if it were a hill. Accidentally slamming the door behind me. “Sorry, thank you.”

My body faces her, I watch as she drives, wearing sunglasses. She glances at me and sadly smiles. “You should’ve stayed home.”

“I know.” I mumble,

After moments pass it felt like milliseconds and we’re already at my house. “Alright, we should get you inside and you need to lay down.” She unbuckles herself, going around the car and opening my door as I am pretty slow with my movements. “My body is aching.” I try to laugh at myself but I just end up in a coughing fit.

She puts a hand on my waist and she walks me to the door, making me feel more fragile than I actually am. “There’s a um house key under the uh mat.” I tell her and she bends down to grab it.

Opening the door I trip inside. We go over to the living room and i plop down, accidentally bringing her with me. I feel how cold she really is and I shiver from the touch. She giggles and stands back up.

“Let me call Jasper and I’ll find you something small to eat and medicine.” She boops my nose, leaving me to be alone as she heads towards the kitchen.

It didn’t take long for her to come back with crackers and a few pills laid next to me on the arm of the couch. “Jasper should be here soon. Do you want to watch something?” Alice sits next to me and I shrug. “I’ll get you sick. You should go enjoy time with your family.” I take a cracker from its wrapping and bite it. She smiles, shaking her head. “It’s quite alright, it’s nothing I haven’t done already. I’ll stay until your dad or sister gets back.” She informs me and if I wasn’t so sick I would be bombarding with questions.

I hear an engine rev outside and I jump unnoticeably from the noise. Alice stands up and I look down at lol the crumbs I have on my shirt.

The front door opens and I see Jasper putting my helmet and keys down. “Here you should take the medicine.” Alice tells me.

“How do I know you’re not drugging me?” I rebuttals and she scoffs with a smirk laid upon her lips. “What would I gain from that?” She teases, handing me a water bottle. “I don’t know, you could rob me.” I hum, looking at her through half lidded eyes.

“Sweetheart, I could’ve already did that by now.”

I shrug, stretching my arms and sitting up. “What’s the medicine?” I simply ask. “Ibuprofen. That’s it. I couldn’t find cold medicine or anything.” She tells me, I nod, expecting that from Charlie.

“Why are you guys helping me?” I look between the both of them.

“We want to help a friend.” Alice grins, i squint my eyes at her response.

“Seriously, we will leave if that’s what you wish.” Jasper finally speaks up. My eyes follow to him. “What if that is what I wish?” I say in a snarky tone.

“Then we will listen. We don’t want to over stay our welcome.” He winks and I’m caught off guard.

“I just want to sleep. I have too many questions that I don’t feel like will be answered.” I go to stand up and they try to help but I smack their hands away. “I got it. I barely know you two I don’t get this.” I aggressively motion between the three of us.

“What do you mean, [Name]?” Alice asks, both of them wear a worried expression. “Why can’t you guys go to the Quiluete beach? Or or.. why when it’s sunny your parents just decide to take you out of school?” My throat starts hurting worse from before, the strain from me yelling doesn’t help. I almost go into another coughing fit but luckily the feeling goes away but I am definitely feeling a shortness of breath.

“[Name], you should take a nap and when you wake up, if you feel better we will answer everything you want to know.” Alice assures me.

I huff, wanting to scream from how confused I feel.

“I want you both to… to leave!” I get extremely dizzy just like before, my knees giving out, Jasper immediately helps me. Grabbing onto my arms as I hold onto his. “You need to go to sleep.” He whispers, “your skin, it’s so cold.” I tell him, he presses his lips together, glancing at Alice.

He sets me back down on the couch and I lay down. “I don’t want to wake up to you guys here.” I mutter, loud enough for them to hear though.

My eyes open to darkness, and blankets over me. I feel around and I’m in my bed. I hear whispers next to me, weight on my bed beside me. It feels like my fever has also just disappeared.

“You’re up.” A voice says softly. I jerk up in response. “Why are you two still here!?” I sternly question them, getting up to my knees on the bed, backing away from both of them.

“You’re still upset?” Alice frowns and I tilt my head. “Duh, I’m still upset! I told you both two leave, you said if I told you to leave you would. Um so seems like the problem can easily be solved.” I remind them.

“We did leave, we came back when we realized nobody would make sure you were going to be okay for a while, darling.” Jasper tells me and I sit there for a moment. I shake my head. “Don’t give me a lame ass excuse. Just explain everything I want to know then leave.” I straight up tell them, tired of this game I feel like I’m in.

“I feel like you know everything already.” Alice points out. I take a deep breath.

“Why won’t you just say it?”

“To protect you.” Jasper steps closer and this time I don’t flinch away. “Maybe I don’t need nor want your protection.” I cross my arms.

“Why me? None of this makes sense.” I tiredly laugh, I feel like I’m going insane.

“You’re our person, [Name]. You’re like a metal and we’re your personal magnets. A missing piece you never knew you needed. You’re just stubborn.” Jasper sits down on the bed, pulling Alice with him. Both take my hands and for some reason they aren’t cold anymore…

And then I really wake up from what felt like a nightmare. “[Name]! You home!?” Bella calls and I look around, confused about what I just experienced. Pinching myself underneath my blanket. It’s real. And with this being real. They really did bring me to my bedroom.

“What’s going on?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. “Dad wanted me to check in on you. I don’t know if you heard.” She comes up to my bed, sitting down next to me. “What happened?”

“One of his buddy’s, Waylon passed away. Attacked by an animal.” She tells me and my eyes widen. Not expecting that of all things.

She hands me a pepper spray. “Dad also wanted me to give you that.”

I furrow my eyebrows in response and she chuckles dryly. “He gave me one too, twins.” She shows me hers and I smile.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s okay as anyone could be in his position.” She shrugs and I nod, that makes sense. “Did you happen to pass by Alice or Jasper at all… today?”

Her body tensed from the question.

“Not.. Alice or Jasper. Why?” She adjusts herself better to face me.

“They took me home earlier, gave me medicine.” I explain and Bella shoots me a weird look.

“They were here?” I nod

“How was dress shopping?” I change the subject not wanting to think about the dream I had.

“Eh, I bumped into Edward.” And I smirk.

“Stop it.” She rolls her eyes.

Then it was silence between us. And as she goes to stand up I grab her wrist. “Wait, i um have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel something.. off about the Cullens?” I bite the inside of my mouth, waiting for her answer.

“You feel it too?” She whispers,

“You heard about the Quiluete story?” I question.

“Jacob told me the other day.” She nods.

“Okay, I’m not the only one then.” I sigh, taking her hand. “I had a weird dream. I just I need to find out what all of this means.” I exclaim.

“That’s how I feel. I bought a um book. From the library down in Port Angeles.” She reaches down and I didn’t even know but she placed a book bag down there before getting on my bed.

She comes back up with a heavy old looking book.

“Sleepover?”

“I’m still sick, Bells.”

“I don’t care, scoot.” I do as told and we lean against the wall, I grab my laptop bed we use that light as a resource to look through the book.

Pages of masked creatures, menacing looking.

We then turn to the another page, this time it was a white mask with black eyes and a row of sharp teeth. “The cold one.” It read.

I quickly sign in to my laptop, searching that up, immediately getting beer pop ups on my screen. I irritatedly close them. “Look.” Bella points on the screen, it was a link to “The Cold One: Apotamkin.” I click on it.

Pictures begin to load of a seductive Apotamkin with his ice blue skin, devouring victims in tapestries, engravings. The creatures that are horrific portrayed to be beautiful.

Demons attacking villages; perfectly sculpted predators luring innocent women.

“All of this is gruesome murder and sexual innuendos.” I whisper.

Words at the bottom say:

Speed, strength, cold skinned, immortal… blood drinker…

I close my eyes for a brief second. Thinking about how Edward moved fast when Bella was in the accident, how he stopped a whole van. I never really questioned it before but now… I don’t know. How Alice knew where my house was… I never told her. How they all look young and are cold to the touch.

Another picture shows and it’s a man biting a white neck.

“It’s not possible.” Bella shared a look a with me, both of us struggling to make sense of it all.

Chapter five!!!

Also I’m going to start doing short Imagines! So if you want to request anything feel free!

[loveronlineee]

Not All Bad Part 2 (Spider x Reader)

Masterlist

Spencer “Spider” White x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: naming sexual terms (y’know the map stuff)

Synopsis: The students of Hartley High discover a sex map in the old stairwell which causes public outrage and puts all kinds of relationships on the line. Y/N is surprised to find herself on the map connected to a certain blondie

Not proofread sorry hehe

Wanna request something? Look here!

Y/N walked into school the following Monday, not particularly excited to hang with her so called friends. Sasha and Missy hadn’t called or texted her over the weekend about ditching her at the party. Missy texted her about her class schedule for the new school year and Sasha hadn’t said anything at all.

Not surprising, just disappointing.

She decided to walk to school, not really wanting to be in a car with them right now. Dusty, Ant and Spider were in their usual morning spot near the bikes. Ant spotted her and sped over, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

“Y/N!” The girl stopped and blinked.

“Yeah Ant?”

“Can I see your timetable for this year?” Y/N rolled her eyes. Ant and her had always had at least one class together every year since year 7. And Ant had been copying Y/N’s homework in those classes since then.

She held out her hand.

“Show me yours.” Ant excitedly pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of his timetable. Y/N scanned then handed it back.

“Maths, English and Biology.”

“Yes!” Ant punched the air. Y/N smirked.

“Not so fast Anthony. I’m gonna start charging you this year.” Ant’s arms went limp.

“Whaaat? Y/N come on-“

“Nope. You gotta pay up or you gotta do it yourself.” He sighed.

“Okay fine.” Dusty and Spider walked over.

“You still letting Ant copy your homework?” Dusty asked, amused.

“Yes but with a little twist this year.” Y/N sung. Ant looked defeated.

“I’m gonna have to get a job now.” Spider laughed.

“Aww Y/N you chargin’ him now?” Y/N grinned. She was wondering when he was going to say something.

“Well I’ve got my eye on a new pair of shoes, so one of us better start working.” He laughed harder.

Spider seemed to be back to his usual self but with something a little different. Something only Y/N would notice.

It felt like he was noticing her more. Y/N wasn’t sure if that would make sense to anyone else but it made sense to her. The way he looked at her was different. Like he was hanging off of every word she said, awaiting the next.

It didn’t feel like he had changed because she had shown him a little affection. It felt more like he might’ve liked her before, and that little kiss on the cheek gave him the confidence that she might like him back.

Dusty put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder before quickly dropping it. Spider’s smile faltered at the action.

“We gotta go but we’ll see ya later.” Dusty started walking away, the other two following after him.

“Thanks Y/N! See ya!” Ant added.

“You better have my money Ant!” Y/N called back making Spider chuckle one last time. He looked back to see Y/N still smiling at him, wiping away the doubt Dusty’s action gave him.

“Hey girl!” Missy sung as her Sasha and Amerie skipped over. Y/N’s face dropped when she saw them.

“Hey.” She replied in an unenthusiastic tone. The girls frowned.

“What’s up?” Missy asked in confusion. Y/N frowned.

“You two ditched me at the party.” Missy blinked in surprise.

“You guys ditched Y/N?” Amerie questioned.

“What?” Missy turned to Sasha. “I thought you said she didn’t wanna come with us?” The pink haired girl stuttered, her lie caught in her throat.

“O-Oh well I didn’t actually ask her, I just assumed she wouldn’t wanna go.” Y/N sighed.

“It would’ve been nice to know that you guys left at least.” Missy stepped a little closer to her.

“I’m really sorry about that Y/N, I had no idea. It won’t happen again.” Y/N nodded and smiled but the apology was from the wrong person.

“Oi! There's a fully-gacked sеx map in the old stairwell. It's called the Incest Map!” A girl in the quad shouted. The trio looked at each other and ran with the rest of the students.

It was true.

There it was. A map of students, some with decorated names when they had a lot of connections, others small connecting to one person. A helpful guide was on the right for the meaning of each line spanning from blowie to butt fucked.

“You scissored Greta Bathgate?” Missy loudly questioned Sasha. “Before or after we broke up?”

“I don't remember.”

“You don't remember?”

“I'm pretty sure we were on a break, but...” Missy began walking away. Sasha called out to her. “Wait, Missy.”

“Nah, I need space, man.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Good one Sasha.” She looked back at the map, going through names.

Darren gave Ant a wristy, Jessica wanks in public, Sasha’s been with nearly every girl in her year…

Spider.

Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little curious of Spider’s history. She read the names connecting to his.

Fucked Suzie and Quinni, gave Eleanor a dirty thumb, Saskia gave him a suckback. And according to the little note on the side, he made sure she couldn’t walk for three days. An extra little note added that that was probably fake.

Y/N remembered Spider going around last year bragging about it. Yeah definitely fake.

One last name connected to his.

Y/N.

“Oh shit.” Y/N breathed out. She hadn’t even noticed her own name yet. Sasha pulled a disgusted face.

“Oh gross Y/N you let Spider fuck you?”

“No that’s not true!” Y/N objected. She read the other connections to her name.

Hooked up with Ca$h. Not a complete lie. They made out at a party for like 10 seconds.

Fucked Dusty. Complete lie.

Y/N could tell almost all of these were rumours. But she also knew that everyone loved rumours. She looked over to Spider and Dusty. They were still reading the map.

She watched Spider’s face drop. He blinked slowly, processing. Then he looked around for Y/N and spotted her.

She gave him a look that said Are you gonna say anything? He just looked back at her blankly, like a deer in the headlights.

“Quinni, lazy kebab.” Quinni frowned.

“That's not true. What's a lazy kebab? Spider, what's a lazy kebab?”

Spider’s head turned back to the map. Y/N continued to stare at him in frustration getting nothing in return.

An announcement came over the intercom.

“All students to the gym for assembly. All students to the gym for assembly.” Everyone groaned and headed over, taking some last minute pictures of the map.

Y/N could see Spider ahead of her in the crowd.

Is he really not gonna say anything?

She looked to her right at Amerie who looked very concerned. Y/N couldn’t remember what it said about Amerie on the map but judging by her face it was really bad.

“Hey Ams you okay?” Y/N asked.

“You seen Harper today?” Amerie asked, panicked. Y/N thought then shook her head.

“No. She text you?” Amerie shook hers.

“Huh. Weird.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

‘realize’ for the word ask thingy!! -galaxy

I see this and I raise you:

Doll!Reader helping Ken realize that horses exist in Barbieland

..........

"You weren't kidding..we really did have horses here all along.."

"Glad you finally realized that, Ken." With a small chuckle, you turned back to your horse, taking the pink plastic brush to her mane as you gently combed through the fluff.

"There you go, girlie...how do you keep getting these knots, hm?" You cooed, to which she snorted in reply, seeming content.

All the while, Ken couldn't stop staring at you both in awe, still trying to process what he was seeing before his very eyes.

A horse in Barbieland.

If only he knew they existed here, too, before he decided to take over everything and reinvented patriarchy.

The one time you decided to come into town....was when this seemingly perfect paradise was rapidly transformed into "Kendom", where the Kens took over the dreamhouses and attempted to rewrite the entire constitution.

They attempted to brainwash you as they did other Barbies into servitude, but since you weren't a Barbie yourself...it didn't really work.

Yet Ken, aka Beach Ken who went to the Real World with Stereotypical Barbie and returned as a completely different person, tried convincing you to stick around, showing off all the horse-themed stuff he had.

Despite you being a doll literally centered around equine care, he kept talking over you, spouting nothing but inaccurate horse facts and firmly believing he knew more than you.

As far as he was aware..horses only existed in the Real World, where men rode them and owned them and were the ultimate symbols of manhood.

When he made a jab at your job and refused to believe it's your actual profession, you snapped and nearly ripped his horseshoe chain necklace off of him, embarrassing him in front of all the other Kens, before you called out to your horse.

His jaw dropped as he saw her appear out of nowhere, and you mounted her and glared at him, mockingly asking if he still believed they're only from the Real World. Then you galloped all the way back home, refusing to hear his response.

You haven't returned since, and he struggled to maintain his image as a manly and "cool" leader after that revelation was dropped on him like an anvil.

After all was said and done, and Barbieland was restored to its former glory, Ken decided to go look for you. After realizing that patriarchy didn't make him happy, he wanted to make amends (and see your horses, but mostly make amends) and admit that scorning your job was shitty.

He kept rehearsing what he was going to say during the long walk to your home....but ended up faltering at your doorstep, becoming an anxious wreck until you let him in.

You weren't inclined to, at first, although seeing as he no longer wore that stupid mink coat and instead had a tie-dye hoodie that said "I Am Kenough", you figured he finally had some sense knocked into him.

Plus, the fact that he walked all this way was surprising..until you remembered Kens didn't drive cars or use bikes.

Even so, it's obvious that he genuinely wanted to make things right.

So both of you talked for a while, with him concluding that he felt stressed and unsure of what to do with his life now that Barbie's out of the picture.

He felt like he didn't belong anywhere near her dreamhouse, and he wasn't ready to go back to the Real World anytime soon. He just felt...stuck.

You didn't have too many words to comfort him with, given you've never been there and you've never dealt with the complex human emotions he just started experiencing himself.

But you did know how to cheer him up.

So you took him outside to one of the fenced arenas at your ranch, whistling for your horse, and she came trotting over.

Ken was awestruck, watching you tend to the gentle creature as you finished brushing her mane. He stepped closer to the fence, unsure of what to do or what to say...or even if he was allowed to be this close.

However you could see the look in his eyes, and the hesitancy in his body language, and ultimately relented.

You couldn't stay mad at him for eternity.

"You can pet her if you wanna."

He blinked in surprise, before looking at your horse again and cautiously reaching out to her face. For a moment she stared at him, and the abrupt snort made him flinch away.

"I-I...don't think she likes me.." He frowned.

"It's okay, Ken. She only acts like that 'cuz you're reaching for her mouth and don't have any food. Here. Let me help."

You took his hand, ignoring the way he stared at you with a growing blush on his face while you guided him. But eventually his focus shifted back to the horse as he felt soft fur beneath his fingertips, eyes widening as he looked to see his hand resting just above her nose.

Her ears flicked to the side, though besides that..she didn't react in any hostile way.

He was in childlike amazement, gently petting her and brushing his fingers through her mane. And you stepped back, allowing the two to bond, before noticing the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah...this is just awesome. She's nothing like the ones on those stupid TVs we had."

"Nope. They can't compare to her." You chuckled, leaning against one of the posts with a warm smile. "She's the real deal."

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#24: Family Fun Days (S9E03 & S4E15)

Grimes Family 2.0 has my heart eternally. 🥹 They are the best family to ever grace an apocalypse. And what’s so sweet is during their Family Fun Day in s9 and s4, it truly didn’t even feel like an apocalypse - that’s how much love and joy Rick and Michonne were admirably able to place in their and their kids’ lives. And while the fallen world turned Rick and Michonne into walker-slaying warriors, who they really are to their core are parents. (ours and their kids 😋) So the final Family Fun Day and the first unofficial Family Fun Day are a tie on this list for allowing Richonne to show why they're the greatest parents around...

Starting with the s9 Family Fun Day, one of my favorite parts is when Rick, Michonne, and Judith are walking hand in hand in ASZ. It’s so idyllic and so the type of rewarding happy life these three deserve.

I think back to s5 when Rick and Michonne were outside the gates of ASZ with Carl and baby Judith in the backseat of their car. I love that the leap of faith they took together in coming to this place has now turned into a stable home where they can fully enjoy being family.

I feel like words can’t fully even capture how much I love all this. Their smiles. Michonne cheering Rick on by saying, "come on, daddy." Judith skipping. Rick's countdown. And the way they lift her up and cheer Judith on. Somehow, I never noticed it until this rewatch, but after they lift Judith up, Rick and Michonne say “wow” at the exact same time. Always in sync those two. 🥰

And Rick and Michonne getting to just be parents is the best and so meaningful. After the devastating loss of children, the way Rick and Michonne have risen from those depths of despair and given Judith a beautiful cheerful life is so commendable. And, truly, it speaks to the strength of Rick and Michonne's impact on each other's lives that they can be this healed and happy now.

I’m choked up from just this initial moment and it only gets cuter with each of their activities. It’s clear that this is Judith’s favorite way to spend the day, but make no mistake, this is Rick and Michonne’s favorite way to spend the day too. And I love that Family Fun Days are something they seem to do often and look forward to. (also it's sweet that, throughout the series, we got several indicators that little Judith is a mama's girl 😊)

It was such a joy to see this side of Rick and Michonne, especially knowing we’d only have 2 more eps before Rick’s departure. I love that we got to see Rick just have so much fun as the best girl dad. He deserved to have so many more days like this with his baby girl. 🥲

Also, what I would give to have seen a family fun day that included Rick, Michonne, RJ, Judith, and Carl all together. 😭

The good thing is Rick and Michonne are going to do everything in their power to get home to Judith and RJ, and I have hope TWD's best parents will be able to have plenty more days like this to enjoy with their children whenever the four reunite.

(Side note: Since we're talking Grimes family in this post, can I just say I never understand the complaints about our sweet prince RJ being a regular kid doing regular kid stuff - like ??? To me, it's actually the biggest flex that Rick and Michonne's baby is living a normal life. A whole dang apocalypse hit the earth, and your kid is able to just read comics and ride bikes because, even in the most dangerous possible world, you managed to create some normal (as normal as it can be in that world) stability for your children - What a win. And rather than find him "boring" as a kid under age 10 just living life, I find it heartwarming that RJ Grimes got to be so normal. The mostly peaceful and regular way RJ is living is the very thing Michonne and Rick wanted and fought for. It's the very thing RJ's big brother Carl fought for too. How wonderful that they got what they wanted 🥰👌🏽)

And then the montage includes my absolute favorite visual with the three of them on a picnic blanket all relaxed, with a brief glimpse of Rick handing Michonne a pink flower as Judith seems to notice the way her dad loves her mom. Even in just a .5-second clip of Rick wanting to give Michonne that flower we see yet another example of how Rick so naturally shows love to his wife. 🥰

I love that in s9 especially, Rick was like if y’all don’t know nothing else about me, you’re going to know that I’m head over heels in love with Michonne. And he’s just so good at courting her even in their married era, and I adore how he’s always thinking of how to gift her.

Y’all, everything in this moment (& the deleted picnic scene where Rick expresses wanting more years like this with his wife and kids) gives me so much happiness and peace. Again, it’s so idyllic and tranquil and pretty. I wanted them to live in this moment forever.

The picnic shot is just beauty and I will always cherish it. It makes me think about Carl’s vision in s8, of their family playing hooky. I know Carl would be so proud to see the three of them essentially doing exactly that on this beautiful family fun day. Like this whole montage is truly what Carl wanted most for the three of them. 🥹

To this day, when I see Scott running over while the three are reading, I’m like damn it. 😫 Richonne deserved to have a day to be all about their family and nothing else and Rick and Michonne look like they really do agree with me in the way they both communicate with a wordless look lol.

They don’t want this family time to end, but they know the world is ready to start screaming again. I do like how Rick sees Scott coming but keeps reading tho. Like ‘maybe if we keep reading he’ll just jog past us.’ 😂 

Seeing Rick kiss Judith before joining Michonne and Scott is so sweet and so sad because it’s his final interaction with his daughter before he’s taken away for years. 😭

Rick and Michonne again wordlessly communicate upon learning about that murdered savior, and you can tell they’re both disappointed. And I'm disappointed that Family Fun Day was cut short too, but I also was like, I should've known...

But I adore that this scene, which ends up being Rick and Michonne's last time side by side in the present, does not end on disappointment.

Rick is quiet and looking at Michonne, and then he looks away frustrated and stressed, especially because this new development could jeopardize the unity and safety he and Michonne so badly want to build for their people.

It’s so clear how Michonne feels for him, knowing how much they both wanted to have this day to just be. And then the shot focuses on their hands with Rick’s fist clenched to further illustrate his frustration. 

But Michonne always knows how to offer Rick the exact right uplifting encouragement and so I love that she then takes his hand. The choreo of it is so good with her slowly sliding her hand into his. It’s symbolic for Michonne to be the one who could most help Rick release his fist, thus release the frustration, and hold onto what matters most.

And, of course, Rick is receptive and holds her hand. He can always receive the positivity Michonne instills in him. And so I love that Rick tightly holds her hand and allows that to be the note they can end on together. 

Richonne handholds are always a thing of beauty so I love that their final moment like this ends on that emphasized visual. Even when things fall apart, they’re still in it together. They’re still held together by their love.

Y’all, how do even their hands tell a compelling story? I mean they always have. From exchanging bullets in Clear, to passing mints and holding hands in their canon ep, and this significant final present moment between them. It really does highlight the strength, love, and unity of Richonne's relationship. 

It’s also sweet how Rick and Michonne's official romance began with a handhold, and their final moment ends with one too. And while their journey is about to devastatingly take them on separate paths for years, I really feel like this handhold right here actually never breaks.

In many ways, during their years apart, Rick and Michonne still embarked through life as though their true love was still with them, still holding their hand and supporting them because their love is neverending - as noted in both Rick and Michonne's sentiments during the TWD series finale.

(Side note: There’s this interesting contrast I think about - because with losing Lori, part of what made it so painful on Rick is knowing they never got official closure after they grew distant and their marriage fell apart. But then with “losing” Michonne after he was taken, part of what likely makes it so painful for Rick is that their marriage was in such a great spot. Rick and Michonne were so beyond close, happy together, and hopeful for their future just before Rick was taken away. And that’s a unique pain to just be abruptly plucked from the woman you were so longing to spend the rest of your life with. Where the Lori loss featured an element of mourning a clear closed door, the Michonne “loss” is an element of mourning all the doors he hoped he'd open with her. And I’m really curious to see how Rick has been dealing with that type of pain while away in TOWL)

This whole sequence of events in 9.03 is the definition of precious. And the song in the background pairs so nicely with this heavenly time. I love Grimes Family 2.0, and this was like a beautiful love letter to them.

It was a lovely reward for Rick and Michonne after all they've been through in this series. And I just appreciate how much joy was depicted in every moment Rick got with his girls in season 9. (their opening moment in the s9 premiere also gets an honorable mention cuz I absolutely adore it)

So I called this Family Fun Days plural because before Rick and Michonne so adorably had their day as mommy and daddy with Judith, they had another version of a family fun day out in the woods with Carl. And this moment, along with the s9 montage, are my all-time favorite Grimes Family 2.0 scenes.

This one in season 4 is so meaningful because during their s9 family fun day in ASZ they were enjoying merriment in the safety of their community - but here the golden trio of Rick, Michonne, and Carl are traveling while unsure of where they’ll get their next meal or where they’ll lay their head for the night…and yet they smile. 🥹 The levity found in this moment is so important and heartwarming to see. 

I love that Michonne was so effortlessly able to be a best friend to Carl and helped him have fun even in an apocalypse. I adore the opening of the scene as Rick talks about resources running low and turns around to see Michonne and Carl adorably preoccupied with their train track competition.

Rick turning around to see Michonne and Carl reminded me of the s9 premiere when the first thing we see of Rick is him opening the doors to watch Michonne and Judith.

I know Michonne’s bond with Carl and Judith means the absolute world to Rick. And I can only imagine how moved Rick would (and will) be to see her bond with their adorable son RJ too. 😭

(Again, I'll never get over the fact that Michonne really carried Rick's child. How extremely beautiful. 🥹And soon Rick is going to finally know all about the son he made with the love of his life. Won't He Do It! 🥳)

I always appreciate that Rick walks over to Michonne and Carl, letting them have the moment a little longer, and the way Michonne playfully tries to win their competition. Carl sharing the Big Cat because "we always share" is also just so sweet.

And, of course, you know I love the way that man Rick is grinning while watching and appreciating this wholesome family moment. 🥰The way he keeps sneaking glances at Michonne as he smiles - I forever stand by the fact that Rick has fallen in love with Michonne by this point.💯

Even despite their circumstances, the three seemed so happy in this moment cuz they’re together the way it was meant to be. And I love that Michonne and Rick both valued giving Carl a good childhood against all odds.

In Carl’s devastating final episode "Honor" he tells Michonne "Don't carry this - not this part," and I always like to think that this moment on the tracks is one of the parts of their journey Carl hopes Michonne holds onto instead. Cuz it was such a beautiful happy moment that cemented the three as a family.

And, clearly, she and Rick did choose to carry the good parts with Carl and even pass it on to Judith as they and their daughter so presently enjoyed a day of fun and games seasons later, where for a few hours they didn't have to be community leaders or fierce fighters. Instead, Rick and Michonne just got to be what they so cherished being - mom and dad. Grimes family forever. 🤍

[writersundersiege]

The New Girl in Town: Part 2

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

if you would like to to keep reading:

The New Girl in Town - Masterlist

Warnings: Drug use implied, talks of stalking,

Summary: It’s been a week since Rafe has seen you and he’s craving just a moment with literally anyone in your family. What will happen when all in the same moment he’s granted the opportunity of your phone number and some time spent with your mom and a mysterious friend from home? Can he change the towns talk to those who are close to you before they decide who he is? Or will Rafe need to fight harder to really become a better citizen in the community for you to take notice?

It’s been a week since Rafe watched you disappear in the car with Jason, your loud music and your lively spirit trailing behind you. Every day, Rafe has been bugging Topper to come back over, and every day, it’s another excuse of “My mom wants me to mow the yard” or “Sarah asked me to help with the fundraiser happening at the county club” an endless amount of excuses.

Honestly, it’s gotten to the point where Rafe asks Sarah himself if she’s asking for Top's help, which is his last resort since conversations with her are always aggravating when she says that she indeed was pestering Topper with plans for the beginning of summer family fundraisers for families in need of new summer clothes and essentials. During this whole conversation, Rafe is getting more annoyed, trying to think about when he’ll be able to make the sly move of asking your dad and brother to golf or really anything to get to know you more before he makes the actual moves on you.

Here is the thing about Rafe: he has a reputation on this island for being a problem child, a loose cannon-rich boy who doesn’t care about anyone but Rafe and his best interest, but somehow, the second he sees you, it’s like a switch clicked. He knew you were the only other thing he may ever care about like this.

You seem so bright despite the horrible thing he’s heard you recently endured; he doesn’t want to see anyone else break that light from you. Another thing about Rafe is that he doesn’t like things he admires ruined, and he admires a lot about you.

At the end of the grueling conversation with Sarah, she asks, “Will you come to help us then?” he gets frustrated, shaking his head and walking to the front door to go to Barry’s for a bit and see if maybe getting something will clear his mind “No Sarah I don’t want to help with some stupid Pouge’s getting summer clothes if they want them they should work harder to get it themselves just like we have and I’m not playing along with your dumb im a philanthropist act” slamming the door behind himself hopping on his bike and peeling off.

Unfortunately, Rafe's undoing was that you were the one who suggested the clothes drive for this year's country club summer service act. At this very moment, Sarah was finalizing plans for that night to be able to distribute clothes to people along the cut with younger kids and some of the teens who are struggling to get new stuff with how prices are.

Sarah shakes her head, reflecting on the infuriating conversation with Rafe, trying to understand why her brother must always be so aggressive with everything. She notices her phone buzzing on her vanity, runs over, and picks it up, not even looking, saying, “Helloooo!” She hears your slight laugh through the phone

“Hey Cameron, I was just calling to tell you everything is ready to go here at the Country Club. Mom and I just finished organizing boxes based on size, and it was a great turnout. Thank you so much for those men, small and medium. Mom was panicking. We wouldn’t have enough of Jason and Dad’s nice shirts to spare.” Sarah agrees, saying, “It was no problem at all. Rafe never cleans his clothes bins from the garage, so he had many things to give things he probably won’t even remember he owns them.” You laugh over the other end of the line. Which unintentionally makes Sarah smile. “Jaz and Rafe sound like two peas in a pod. Maybe we should get them together sometime, although the combination may be a recipe for disaster.” this makes Sarah laugh, and she shakes her head, saying, “Surely it would. The loose cannon and goofball sound like a mess and kinda like that one film you showed me and topper of the two guys making a mess of things.”

Sarah hears you laugh so physically loud through the phone she’s laughing with you; it seems so contagious. “Abbott and Costello,” you say through giggles. “They were my Pop Pops favorite comedians. I have to show you, Laurel and Hardy. That is more so Rafe and Jason, two bafoons who are completely oblivious.” Sarah laughs, humming in agreement with you, not knowing what you are talking about but knowing there is always something new and exciting you're teaching her that she’s never heard of.

All of a sudden, she hears you clearing your throat “You still there, Cameron?” she sits up, realizing she is completely zoned out thinking about the times she’s spent with you and your family, and everything about you guys seems new and exciting, she says, “Yeah, sorry just getting ready to head your way” You hum something small and then turn to something behind the other end of the phone “Alright see you here soon Sarah and Oh—don’t worry about bringing any more volunteers my friend from home made a surprise stop to help me settle before he’s off to Costa Rica for a month so he picked up the spot” Sarah smiled and told you she sees you soon and hung up.

As Sarah prepares to spend her entire evening with you, enjoying your welcoming presence. Rafe sits across from Barry at a small pit fire beside his camper, doing a few lines complaining about everything going on, like Ward paying no mind to him, Sarah playing goodie two shoes to the whole island, Topper following her around like a dog, and most of all he can’t seem to find you or your family anywhere.

For the past week, Rafe has been going places like the market, even the one closer to the cut, to bump into either of your parents; he went to the library twice, hoping he’d maybe see your brother since he remembers he’s in college. Lastly, every day at sun up and sun down, since the day after you left for the ocean, he’s gone to the beach to check for you in the waves. On multiple occasions, he could swear he saw you riding a wave, laughing like you always are (H/T) sticking to your neck and face as some fly behind and around you in the wind and (E/C) squinting as you look forward and balance. In the next second, he blinks, and you're gone like a ghost haunting him, but he never knows if it’s truly there.

Barry sits and listens to Rafe talk about you and the previous time you met and how he’s trying to see you again when he finally cuts him off. “You’re telling me you’ve been on a lowkey stalk fest for days but haven’t even talked to the girl.” Rafe stands looking at him over the fire. As he starts talking, he paces back and forth. “I’ve spoken to her, you fucking idiot, just not enough. I want to make a good impression with her family in hopes-“ Barry chuckles at this part. That’s when Rafe's eyes snap to him, looking enraged enough to jump over the fire at him.

“Chill, Country Club. I find it amusing that you don’t want to smash and pass along with this one; that’s you’re usual motto there, pretty boy. so what makes this girl so different?” Barry is leaning forward, studying the boy across from him. Rafe shakes his head, sitting down and looking at his feet, saying, “You haven’t seen her.”

Suddenly, Rafe's phone rings; an unknown number calling. And he was just about to decline but thinks better of it just in case, by the grace of some god looking over him, it’s you. When he raises the phone to his ear, he hears the slightest sniffle. With his lower tambur, he says, “Hello, who’s this?” he hears what he assumes is a girl's voice clear her throat and then a shuffling of a phone and a man’s voice he knows but can’t place behind the other line “here honey let me do it sweetheart—“ and then the tone as clear as day comes to him as the man speaks.

“Yes, Hello Rafe. Is this Rafe Cameron?” Your dad Charlie was calling him, but why, how, and whose number were you calling him from? He immediately stands at the recognition. “ Yes, sir, this is he. What’s going on? Is (F/N) okay?” he asks in quick succession. Charlie chuckles and says, “Woah, slow down there, son; everybody’s fine (F/N) is not feeling well and needs to lay down, but she was leading the fundraiser, and she knew the only person she could call who’d be kind enough to show up is you” Rafe looks up at the sky cursing every constellation for him not fully listening to Sarah just this once to know it was you who was doing this the whole time, while saying “ I would miss it for the world, sir tell her she can count on me always” Charlie smiles behind the call knowing the implications Rafes makes “ I knew you would my boy I knew you would talk soon” and with that, your Dad hung up.

Rafe was scrambling to grab his bag and helmet, pulling some cash from his pocket and throwing it at Barry. “Thanks, I’ve got to go. Don’t ask.” catching the cash and pulling it from its money clip, Barry laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Country Club, I never did.”

Rafe paid no attention to this comment, though he was too busy strapping his helmet starting, and peeling off to the Country Club in the Upper side of Figure 8 to play a giving hero in hopes you’ll recognize his oh-so-generous and noble acts of community

Or maybe you won’t forget the chatter you hear around town about Rafe and his unfair and unrequited actions towards many before you, but he’s looking forward with hope for the first outcome to blossom into something bigger.

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except the family. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

[amethystsoda]

lol was wondering how long it would take as a plus size person who likes cooking for someone to make a comment like this 🙄🙄

New research

Now look, I don’t owe this anon any medical history. But I feel like I gotta defend myself I guess, so buckle in…

My weight gain started with puberty and hormones. I was literally a twig as a child. My mom says they couldn’t find pants that fit me.

I was always plus size as a teen. But I rode my bike a lot as exercise. I didn’t have control over food because my mom decided what and when I was allowed to eat (and I was homeschooled). I didn’t often get snacks. The only time we usually cooked was me and my dad at night.

I have a vivid memory of my mom pulling my shirt up in the back and grabbing at my back fat telling me I was getting stretch marks.

During this time, I also developed Hidradenitis Suppurativa flares in my armpits, thighs, under boobs etc. Not as a result of being fat, but because of hormones and effed up genetics.

During flares, it hurts even to move and brush up against them. Putting band aids on sometimes makes it worse because I’m allergic to the sticky material and my skin breaks out worse.

In college I lost a ton of weight because I had to walk everywhere. Buuuut, senior year I had a lot of emotional trauma happen and moving back in with parents after college made it worse.

After college, I had major allergy outbreaks and stress related symptoms. I also got into a car crash (not my fault) that severely messed up my muscles and mobility for a while. I would often get nauseated and couldn’t eat at times because of internal injuries healing.

Also my family made me do Keto/Low Carb for a while around 2018, but then I was just starving myself, unhappy, and plateaued. I was straight up a low carb influencer for a while, but stopped when it wasn’t sustainable.

Even while low carb/a smaller weight, I still had to deal with hidradenitis flares. Because, again, hormone related, not weight based.

So now, after a long battle with myself, I try to eat balanced meals (yes, even with carbs and sweet things in the morning), get exercise (my job has me lifting heavy stuff a lot and I try to do DDR or go on walks), and try to combat allergies and mast cell activation (which has been my current biggest battle and I’m learning more about histamines).

I have no intention of being on my 600 pound life, but just because I enjoy food doesn’t mean I deserve to be yelled at.

If my genetics decided that I was a twig and I made honey toast, you wouldn’t even say anything.

So I’m going to continue fighting for respect for plus size people, making meals that I enjoy and that nourish me or treat me, and fight for my own healing and health journey.

You don’t get to tell me that I can’t love myself and you certainly don’t get to decide what I eat.

Go take your hatred elsewhere because it’s not going to work here.

[heister-shmeister]

houston was the main person who convinced sokol and jacket not to beef with each other. he pointed out things they both liked and started conversations with both of them involved in order to hopefully end the rivalry they started. houston likes talking to jacket about cars and analog technology. sokol shrugs off most of the car stuff. most he knows is how to steal a catalytic converter, and hes more interested in other forms of machinery. jacket and houston attend car shows every once in a while at which houston has to hold jacket back from attacking some random blue haired dude with a bike. most joy sokol derives from the car shows are standing by random americans fancy vintage cars and acting like an eccentric salesman, saying blatantly incorrect facts about whatever vehicle hes standing. houston fact checks him every time, pointing out what the car actually is and getting defensive about it while jacket is doubled over on the asphalt trying not to laugh. houston and jacket also bond over video games, something sokol didnt understand fully until they dragged him along to an arcade. it just wasnt something sokol grew up with but he had a fun time playing air hockey. when jacket plays air hockey, hes less focused on blocking peoples shots as he is on hitting the plastic puck as hard as he can physically muster, leading to events where he is losing but its fine because he shot the puck across the room. houstons reaction time is just a bit too slow for air hockey, and sokols knowledge of how to hit REAL goals makes him good at shooting the puck at the perfect angle to score. jacket likes spending any money he has on the claw machine. nobody knows why. houston says theyre rigged and that the only time hes ever 'won' anything from it was when he lockpicked a machine to steal his quarters back. while sokol watches jacket meticulously line the claw up with a jigglypuff plush he points out the structural integrity of the claw. how it wraps around the object fine but lacks the grip strength and is constantly dangling like it isnt possible to just secure it better. houston tries to explain that the point of the machine isnt to be fair, in fact its the opposite. sokols favorite arcade games are ones where you literally just gamble. houston and jacket walk off to get food leaving sokol by the one fishing worm spinny wheel of tickets. they come back to discover sokol has broken one machine from the sheer force of him pushing the lever down and scooted over to one directly next to it, still gambling his money away with a somewhat decent pile of tickets at his feet. houston pickpockets random tiny trinkets from the arcade's prize corner. most of the stuff is the equivalent of 5 hours of playing time, so he forgoes those five hours and grabs junk just because he can. just because it tempts him. he cant NOT steal something thats so perfectly ripe for the taking, even if he has no use for it at all.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 13/? Word count: 1456 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 11. Home

"Nothing beats the Monaco Grand Prix," Charles said while collecting his stuff. His family and friends were sitting in the living room. "It means I can sleep in my own bed, and leave the house as late as possible... The dream."

Arthur, his little brother, smirked. "Yeah, but it's also known as: the cursed home race."

"Arthur," multiple people groaned.

"I wish he was lying," Charles chuckled. "But hopefully, we can break the curse. Everything is looking fantastic, we have been working really hard and we might have a chance."

It was silent in the living room; everyone admired his comment.

"What?" Charles looked around, not liking the silence.

"You sound so optimistic," his mother said. "So I assume everything is going well at Ferrari now?"

Since the beginning of this season, since the moment Matilde got introduced as team principal, Charles had doubts about Matilde. She was young, barely had any experience and seemed like she had no idea what she was doing or how she had to lead a team. But over the weeks, Matilde adapted quickly and showed that she had potential. Charles had shared his opinion on her, so his family and friends knew about his vision.

"Yes, everything is going fine now," he replied. "After Miami, she openly talked about the incident with the entire team, and she listened to everyone who had to say something. I think she's the first team principal I ever had who is really part of the team, instead of the leader of the team." Charles showed a smile when he realised how much the team had grown over the weeks. "She even hired an external coach and things have changed, suddenly everyone is communicating with each other."

Charles' family and friends listened as he spoke about the changes happening within Ferrari under Matilde's leadership. His family and friends began to see her in a new light. She was clearly actively working to create a more collaborative and open environment within the team.

"An external coach?" Pascale asked. "What does it do?"

Arthur couldn't help, but laugh. He imitated his mother, it lightened the mood. "'What does it do?'"

Charles shared a smile as a reaction to Arthur. "He is some sort of a psychologist, he helps to get new insights within the team, like our weaknesses and strengths, observes how things are going, improves the weaknesses by giving advice," Charles explained.

Lorenzo nodded impressively. "I'm a fan. This should have happened way sooner." He, too, was beginning to see the positive impact of Matilde's leadership. He was hopeful that these improvements would lead to better results on the track.

"Maybe the curse will finally be broken this year," Joris, Charles' best friend, chimed in after hearing the optimism Charles had. And he also saw how things turned around under Matilde's watch.

Charles chuckled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "That's the plan. With how things are going, I honestly think we have a chance of winning races, maybe even the championship."

The group made their way to the track. It was only a ten-minute walk, but due to the fans, the family and friends decided to take the car. Charles, Joris and Andrea decided to take the bike. Charles loved this race, and he wanted to take the opportunity to interact with his fans. As they rode through the streets of Monte Carlo, the excitement in the air was present.

The streets were lined with enthusiastic people, all hoping to catch a glimpse of their favourite driver. Charles smiled as he waved to the fans. He stepped off his bike to sign autographs and took some photos with fans. The support of the Monegasque crowd meant the world to him, and he cherished these moments.

Charles, Joris and Andrea arrived at the paddock. They were welcomed by the press. The family and friends of Charles were already waiting on the inside of the gates. They met up with Charles and they made their way to the Ferrari hospitality. It was the first time his family was about to meet Matilde. Approaching the hospitality area, they spotted Matilde seated outside, eating one of the two tangerines and reviewing documents. She looked up, her gaze meeting Charles' and his entourage. A warm smile came on her face.

"This is Matilde," Charles said to his family.

Matilde set aside the papers, and she gave them her full attention. "Hey," she said, standing up. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said and shook everyone's hand. She knew Joris and Andrea already, but only by name.

Charles' family and friends, particularly his mother Pascale, expressed their delight at finally meeting Matilde in person. "We've heard a lot about you," Pascale mentioned with a warm smile.

A conversation began between the team principal and Charles' family. In the meantime, Carlos had arrived at the hospitality as well. He noticed how Matilde was chatting with Charles' family, so he decided to greet her by only padding her on the shoulder when he passed her. Matilde looked at him and gave him a nod. Then Arthur mentioned he had to go, he had to go to his team to prepare for qualifying. His family and friends wished him good luck, just like Matilde. It became clear to Charles' family that she was not just the team principal, but also just a human and an approachable team member.

"Is this your first time in Monte Carlo?" Lorenzo, Charles' older brother, curiously asked.

Matilde nodded. "It is, actually."

Charles raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Really? I had no idea."

She nodded again. "I had a 50% travel contract at Red Bull. I've been to almost every circuit at least once, but I have never been to Monte Carlo, so this is an exciting one."

"Wow," he perplexedly mumbled. "If I had known, I would have given you a tour... only if you wanted to, of course."

Matilde blushed a little bit, and Charles' cheeks also turned a bit reddish.

"We still can do it!" Arthur excitedly shared. "After this weekend, when there's time."

"Sounds like a plan," Pascale agreed. "Just let Charles know, and we will plan something."

She showed a promising smile and looked at her watch. "If you will excuse me, I have to attend a briefing. Please, make yourself comfortable here and have fun this weekend," she mentioned, collecting her documents, the tangerine and the peel of one of the eaten tangerines. She walked away, leaving everyone behind.

"What a lovely woman," Pascale mentioned. "She's doing her best, and it shows. You should cherish this within the team." She padded Charles' shoulder and kissed his cheek. "Perhaps invite her for lunch on Monday and then go out for a tour. It's tradition. And that way I can meet her properly. I want to know who your boss is."

"I will let you know about it."

"Let me know on time so I can do some groceries."

Charles looked at the Ferrari's hospitality, following Matilde with his eyes. She was talking to her assistant, smiling and listening carefully. 

A frown captured Arthur's face; tradition? His eyes met Lorenzo's, who shared the same look. 

Only Lorenzo dared to say something about it. "Tradition?" 

"Yes, from now on," Pascale grinned and winked, looking at Charles for his reaction. However, Charles wasn't listening. And perhaps it was better for now. 

* * *

The free practice sessions on Friday turned out to be a perfect day for Ferrari. The iconic streets of Monte Carlo presented a unique challenge for the drivers, with narrow twists and turns, demanding precision and finesse.

Charles, with his deep familiarity with the circuit, set the pace during the first practice session. His laps were nothing short of masterful, as he expertly manoeuvred his Ferrari through the narrow streets. He delicately pushed the boundaries, skirting with the barriers but never crossing the line into mistakes. His lap times remained consistently impressive, putting him at the top of the leaderboard.

But Charles wasn't the only notable driver that day. Carlos also demonstrated his skill and adaptability. Just like Charles, he pushed and delivered consistent lap times. His feedback to the team was invaluable, helping them fine-tune the car's setup to suit the tight layout.

Inside the garage, the engineers and mechanics worked hard, making adjustments based on the drivers' input. The people back at the factory in Maranello, followed every movement and worked along with the people on the track. Matilde watched with a sense of satisfaction as both the drivers performed flawlessly.

The faultless performance didn't go unnoticed by the other teams, the media or the fans. The team had clearly done their homework, providing Charles and Carlos a car that responded impeccably to their commands.

Nothing could go wrong... right? 

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry

[corporatefrog]

꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: team craig reacting to yn being in the hospital✧.*

✧.* tags: superhero au, college au ✧.* Characters: tolkien blacl, craig tucker, tweek tweek, clyde donavan, jimmy valmer a/n: I got around to sharing team craig! i'm so happy everyone liked the previous one and I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

masterlist

Craig

He’d act very apathetic about the whole situation when you told him

“I’m going to be in the hospital for the next week, I got into an accident during a villain attack and hit my head pretty bad.”

“Oh wow. That’s a bummer.”

“Yeah, can you grab my homework for me?”

“Eh… I’ve got some things going on tomorrow.”

He doesn’t want to see you hurt 

So he just avoids going

As long as he doesn’t physically SEE you, you can’t really be hurt, right?

Clyde drags him to the hospital to visit you 

After that he’s visiting everyday until you’re discharged 

Then sits with you to pass the time since you can’t look at screens until you’re healed

Definitely shows you his astronomy books

(lowkey very happy to have someone who listens to his interests instead of dealing with south park’s bullshit of the day but he’ll never say it)

Tweek 

Let’s be honest we ALL know what he’d do

And it’s not sit down, have a cup of tea and wait to for you to be discharged

He’s running into the automatic door before he can open

Probably ends up in the hospital WITH you by the time he makes it to your room

“WHAT HAPPENED”

“I literally texted you”

“I tried to read it but my hand wouldn’t stop shaking so I decided to get here as fast as possible but then my bike hit a curb so I had to run all the way over.”

“Jesus fuck dude, you need this bed more than me.”

“NO DONT GET UP YOUR BLOOD WILL GO EVERYWHERE”

“Im literally being discharged rn”

You being hurt means that HE can get hurt

Starts showing up to EVERYTHING covered in bubble wrap

He looks like that kid from home alone except with bubble wrap 

Craig blames you

“Bro my car was literally crushed by the fucking coon how is that my fault”

“You didn’t coon-proof your car and now Tweek’s going to be freaking out for the next month”

Tolkien

Probably the only one with a NORMAL reaction

You send him a text that you were in the hospital and he says he’ll be over once he’s out of class

Real normal stuff

Normal until he gets to the hospital

You can’t tell it’s him through the balloons and flowers and stuffed animals

“Why does the bear have a card that says ‘We’ll beat Cancer together’?”

“I didn’t know what was wrong so I grabbed one of everything.”

You were knocked out when a piece of debris hit your head during a villain attack

You need to go back to work to make money for rent?

Nah he covered your rent for the month. And utilities. And filled your fridge.

What’s the point of being rich if you can’t help your friends when they’re hurt? 

He’d do it for anyone!

(anyone meaning you and butters. Maybe kyle if he’s in a good mood. Only redeemable souls in the whole town)

Clyde

Acting like you’re DYING the moment you tell him

You could literally have a sprained ankle and he’s sobbing like you’ve got a day to live

“I know i wasn’t always the best friend in the world but I care about you so much!”

“That’s great clyde, can we talk about this tomorrow though?”

“You’re so strong. Acting like everything’s okay.”

Watching the area around you like a HAWK for the next month incase there are any dangers

What if you get hurt again??

Wants you to stay home for a month after you get out of the hospital 

Stands in front of your door, holding the doorknob so you can’t open it inward

But the door opens outward

So you send him falling onto his ass and start walking to class with a sobbing clyde crawling across the floor behind you

He means well though

Jimmy

Finally, the perfect audience to try his new hospital set with

He doesn’t really like hospitals since his comedy isn’t usually appreciated 

He’ll call you everyday though! And tell you everything that’s happening with your friends

It’s like having your own personal sitcom that calls you everyday

“And then craig threw his ice cream at cartman’s face and made him the true mint chocolate chip.”

“PFFFT! God i love your commentary”

“What can i say, you’re a great audience!”

“Can you just call me everyday and recap the day?”

“Wow, my mom always told me i’d be famous but this is getting a little wild”

Even if he’s worried, he’s not going to say anything.

He wants to boost your mood since he knows hospitals have rancid vibes

He’s the first one to visit you once you’re back at home and he’s got PAGES of recaps to share with you