#anyways for this it's like. more of (nightmares and the like)

[wegog]

This post is so funny!

But jokes aside... sometimes I'm afraid of a person I would become with my meds. I know it seems irrationality, but what if I am not able to be myself? The way I perceive the information, the way I learn... It can be painful, but I know what kind of things my brain is able to produce.

It always reminds me of a french playwright Arthur Adamov, whose plays were truly unique during a tough period of his life (my favorite is Le Professeur Taranne, that was written in two or three days and reflects nightmares of its author).

But they were all written during his struggle with mental problems and a distributive lifestyle. Art was one of the most important factors that contributed to his recovery. However, he wrote Paolo Paoli. And it was...different, not like what he had written before, as if it was already another author. Of course, it was not only that Adamov was cured, Ping-Pong and Le Professeur Taranne were not so popular or easy for interpretation. Paolo Paoli is a more straightforward work. This work seems to say that its author is now ready to talk to his viewer about serious problems in the way the viewer is accustomed to! Anyway, good for him, not for the Theatre of the Absurd.

[astralis-ortus]

spoiled

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— it really is in the little things he does.

w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.

well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.

well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…

with some minor adjustments.

"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"

you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.

it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.

"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."

"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"

the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.

"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."

it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.

chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.

"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."

"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,

"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[scribblesofagoonerr]

the pests are back in town | chaos fc

summary: someone at arsenal made a rookie error and paired the aussie pest and british menace together for media day and it's the usual chaos like always. pairings: chaos fc reader!monkey x kyra cooney cross x arsenal wfc chaos fc masterlist

“It’s a joke right? Tell me it’s a mistake?” You overhear Steph question as you walk nearer to them and you’re curious to know exactly what they’re talking about.

Kim sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t think so.”

“Alright, I’m here now the party can begin,” You joke, hobbling through with your foot still in a boot and grinning mischievously when you spot Lia chatting with Kim and Steph, “Hi, Wallaby! Did you miss me?” You ask, slinging your arm around the Swiss woman’s shoulder with a slight difficulty of her being taller than you.

“Hi little one,” Lia turns to give you a side hug, “How did the hospital appointment go?” She asks, concerned.

“Doc’ is dumb,” You murmur in a low voice, your mood changing instantly at the mention of the appointment you had this morning that didn’t go your way like you thought it would.

You were kind of disheartened by your latest hospital appointment, you didn’t get the good news that you were expecting after all and you were still going to be sidelined for a while yet, since your ankle fracture still hadn’t healed properly yet.

That definitely wasn’t made worse by the fall you had when you and Kyra tried and failed to do a TikTok trend, but that’s a story for a different day.

“Here’s the menace,” Steph jokes, ruffing your hair, “I see you still got the boot on, eh?”

“Unfortunately, I hate it,” You huff while definitely feeling grumpy and deflated about the news, “Stupid doc reckons it’s still not healed properly yet– I just wanna play and I have no chance of it anytime soon, it’s not fair!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried that TikTok trend then,” Kim remarks knowingly as she gives you a pointed look you’ve been on the receiving end of too many times.

“What TikTok trend? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about there, Kimmy,” You play dumb and shrug your shoulders.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kim states while she purses her lips.

Shaking your head, you pull a silly facial expression, “Nope, literally have no idea–  What’re you guys lookin’ so… Irked about anyways?” You wonder, noting the weary looks the three of them share, “What’s going on?”

“It’s gotta be a mistake,” Steph murmurs, staring at the paper with a blank expression on her face, “Right?”

Before you can get a straight answer, Lia jumps into the conversation again, “It’s gotta be.”

“What?” You repeat the question, staring at them while still none the wiser.

“Nope it’s not,” Beth appears, peering over Kim’s shoulder and confirming what you’re already itching to know.

“Oh god,” Steph mutters, shaking her head in disagreement.

You blink, still utterly confused about the topic of conversation they were on about, “What… What is it?” You exchange looks between all 4 of the older girls, but none of them are giving you anything to work with, “What’re you all on about?”

“You and Kyra,” Lia finally decides to be the one to tell you the good news, “You pair are together for media day.” She tells you, biting her bottom lip and clearly bracing for impact.

“Seriously?” Your eyes light up in pure glee, “Yes! Winner!” You're practically vibrating with excitement, and if it wasn’t for your dumb ankle fracture then you would definitely be jumping up and down in joy.

You and Kyra? A dangerous duo on any given day, but today– on media day– things were about to get even more chaotic.

Steph groans dramatically, “We’re all doomed.”

“Who made the mistake?” Beth furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head, “These two together are a nightmare– The last media day proved it alone!”

“Hey! We’re not that bad,” You insist, huffing in offense.

“Yes. You are,” Steph deadpans, “You and Kyra are the worst when you’re together. Need I remind you of Melbourne?”

“Oh, but that was such a fun time!” You exclaim, grinning mischievously, “I don’t know about you, but I personally had a blast out there.”

“I think Kim is still reliving that nightmare,” Lia chips in amusedly as you sneak a glance at your captain who you swear shudders at the memory, “This isn’t a good idea.”

You pout, crossing your arms together, “Oh, come on. You guys seriously don’t think that much about us, do you?”

Beth doesn’t even think to hesitate, “No.”

“Absolutely not,” Steph shakes her head, reinforcing it.

You open your mouth to argue, but then Katie strolls over  with Caitlin while smirking, “Oh you guys just discovered the pests are together for media day?” She questions.

“This is a nightmare,” Beth shakes her head dramatically.

“Well that’s just rude,” You huff in response just as you spot your best friend and instantly perk up, “Ky! Guess what, we’re together for media duties!”

“What, seriously? Yes!” Kyra exclaims, letting out a cheer and definitely buzzing about the news.

“This is bad, so very bad,” Lia mutters to herself, shaking her head in disagreement.

You roll your eyes, exasperated, “Nah, nah, this is a great day!” You insist, “It’s gonna be wonderful. It’s like Christmas morning!”

Steph snorts, clearly amused, “If this is how excited you get for Christmas, you’ve got serious issues.”

You shrug casually, zero shame on your face, “Yeah, I know. I come with a lot of trauma,” You pause for a split second, “Dead dad, mum that abandoned me, blah blah blah,” You wave a hand like it’s not a big deal, “Need I go on?”

“Leah!?” Kattie furrows her brow in concern, “There’s something with your kid,” She glances around to look for the blonde, “I think she’s broken!” She jokes, dramatically.

“Oh no, she’s not broken,” Leah laughs in amusement, slinging her arm around your shoulder, “She’s just… Well, she’s Monkey.” She explains, shrugging her shoulders.

“See? I’m just– Hey, that was still an insult, Malfoy!” You grumble in protest.

“Monkey, we’ve already been over this,” Leah groans in annoyance, “Will you stop callin’ me that?”

“Nope,” You can’t help but smirk, “As long as you still continue to get wound up over it, definitely not.”

“Give me strength,” Leah mutters, rubbing her temples, “What’re you so happy about?” She wonders, noticing the cheshire grin on your face.

“Me and Ky are paired together for media,” You fill her in with a grin plastered on your face.

Leah can’t help but snort and shake her head, “That’s a joke, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Steph exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “Someone must’ve made  a mistake, right?”

“No, no, no,” Leah shakes her head promptly, “You two are… You’re trouble together, look what happened in America!”

“I think you’re overreacting slightly there Le,” You insist, rolling your eyes.

“Am I? Cos’ I think the fractured ankle really speaks for itself,” Leah deadpans.

“Urgh,” You groan dramatically, tilting your head back at the painful memory, “It’s bad enough I have this stupid cast, you don’t need to mention it as well.”

“Wait, does Kimmy still have your skateboard held hostage?” Kyra wonders, curiously as she wraps her free around your shoulder.

“Yeah she does,” The pout currently plastered on your face really just spoke for itself, “Le’s being the captain of the fun police and not allowing me to have any fun.” You mutter.

Leah clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “And risk breaking your neck as well? Yeah, not a single chance am I taking that risk– It stays at Kim’s out of the way since we can’t exactly send it back now.”

“But what fun is it if it just stays in the cupboard?” You don’t relent from this conversation as you huff dramatically, “How about…”

“How about we don’t revisit this conversation and forget about the skateboard instead, yeah?” The blonde cuts in with a knowing look.

“Monkey? Kyra?” One of the media team waves over to you both to get your attention, “We need you both.”

“We’re needed already?” Kyra furrows her eyebrows and shrugs her shoulders, “Lets’ go!”

Your eyes light up in glee, “Fantastic, be right there,” Before looking back at the huddle of older girls, “It’s showtime!”

“Don’t be a brat and get in any trouble–” Leah begins to say.

“I’m sorry all I heard then was blah blah blah,” You interject with a mischievous smile on her face, “Come on Ky, let’s go and find out what we’ve gotta do!” With that, you quite literally pull Kyra in the direction of where you need to go.

Katie chuckles lowly at the blondes’ facial expression, “You’ve got your hands full with that one, ain’t you, Le?”

“Don’t even go there,” Leah huffs and shakes her head in response, “That girl sometimes, honestly she’s so bloody cheeky, but I do love her dearly.”

“Hi, I’m Kyra!” Your Australian counterpart jumps in first to speak, introducing herself.

“And I’m Monkey– “ You start but get cut off with the cameraman giving you a knowing look, “What? Seriously, I have to answer my actual name? Oh for *bleep* sake!”

“Monkey!” You hear Leah scold from the other side of the room, which you’re honestly shocked how she managed to hear that so far away.

“Sorry, sorry, anyways…” You quietly mumble your name begrudgingly in front of the camera that’s rolling, “I can’t believe you guys just made me say that aloud. I hate you all.”

The cameraman chuckles from the other side, “Continue.”

You huff and dramatically fold your arms, “Alright, well yeah, we’re gonna play ‘How Well Do You Know Each Other?” You pause for a brief second, “This should be interesting.”

“Puts our ‘best friend’ knowledge to the test,” Kyra adds in, grinning teasingly.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes in response as you look at the cameraman, “How do we do this then?”

“One of you will read the cards aloud and answer, while the other sits further back with headphones listening to music,” The cameraman explains, motioning to the large bulky headphones on the table in front.

“Better be good music,” You remark in a cheeky tone of voice.

“Do you wanna go first?” Kyra asks, glancing at you.

“Yeah, sure why not… How hard could it be?” You smirk as you grab the cards in front of you, “Pft, easy, bring it on!”

With that, the camera stops filming for a second before it begins again with Kyra sitting on a chair a few feet away from you while you’re sitting on the chair in front.

“You good?” You question, Kyra responds with a thumbs up when she can’t hear anything and you giggle, “I could say so much right now…” You say, as Kyra continues to look cluelessly at you.

The cameraman chuckles, “Let’s get to the questions.”

You pick up the first card, “Where is Kyra from?” You read the question aloud and ponder thinking for a few seconds, “Australia, well Queensland to be more specific– Yeah I’m sure it is there!”

You switch out the card and scan your eyes over it,  “When is Kyra’s birthday?” You continue to read the next question aloud, “Easy, 15th February, 2002– You know you guys should really make these more easier for me,” You joke, grinning teasingly as you look directly at the camera.

Tossing the card aside, you flip to the third and final one, “When did Kyra make her debut for Arsenal?” You read the final one aloud, “Oo, this ones’ even better! It was last October, the first game of the season, which we unfortunately lost, but I was there,” You pause after giving your answer with full confidence, “I’m surprised I remember, cos’ I was sick, but yeah… her first debut was then!”

The cameraman chuckles, “That’s three for Kyra done,” He declares, turning the camera off and gesturing Kyra back to sit beside you, “Right, now we’ll film it so it’s Kyra reacting to your answers before switching roles. Sound good, girls?”

You wave dismissively, “Yup, no worries!”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Kyra adds, planting herself down in the empty seat, as she camera starts rolling again, “How’d you do?”

“The questions were so easy,” You joke, cockily, “Kinda wish I had more of a challenge.”

“You seem overconfident right now,” Kyra smirks, taking a glance at the questions, “Alright, first question, where am I from?”

“Queensland, and now I think… Why am I doubting myself?” You frown, taking a minute to wonder if you have got it right.

Kyra laughs, “That is where I’m from!”

“Phew, first one correct,” You wipe your forehead dramatically.

“Next one– When’s my birthday?” Kyra repeats the question aloud you’ve just answered, “You should definitely know this one, if not then… Well, I don’t think we can be friends.” She jokes.

You pretend to think about it for a second, “Yeah I’m positive I know this one cos’ we celebrated it,” You give pause for the dramatic effect, “15th February, 2002. The day after Valentine's Day. Bleugh– Shit, I’m gonna be kicking myself if it’s wrong now.”

“Monkey,” The cameraman interjects from behind, shaking his head.

You feign innocence and give him a sheepish smile, “Sorry.”

Kyra snickers at the fact you have no filter sometimes, “Nice, yeah, that’s right!” She exclaims, “You’re doing so well… You know me so well!” She retorts, playfully.

“Well I’d hope so since I’m your best friend,” You respond with an eye roll.

“Final question,” Kyra speaks up as she gazes at the last question, “Tough one– When did I make my Arsenal debut?”

“First game of the season against Liverpool,” You answer way too confidently and immediately pray it’s correct, “Right? I hope so, I was on me deathbed for that game!”

“Nailed it,” Kyra confirms, grinning.

“Yay, go me!” You fist pump the air as you do a little wiggle in celebration and the camera’s stop filming, “So, now we swap?” You clarify with the cameraman.

“Yep, that’s right,” The cameraman chimes in.

Nodding in agreement, the camera cuts while you switch positions so you’re the one stuck with the headphones, and at least the music isn’t too bad.

You can’t hear a single word that’s being said, but you’re just content to listen to the music, singing the song in your head as you do a little shimmy in your seat.

It’s times like this where you wish you could lip-read, it’s not the easiest thing to do though and your attention span wouldn’t last that long sometimes before giving up.

You can’t help but let your thoughts wander away at this current time, “Maybe I can buy more lego soon? I need to add to my collection– You can never have too much lego!”

At last, you're given the gesture of a thumbs up before removing the headphones and get up to sit on a closer chair with the slight difficulty of the boot currently on your foot.

“Was that easy for you?” You joke with your best friend.

“Piece of cake mate,” Kyra grins in response.

You pick up the cards and read over the first one, “First question, what is my favourite drink?” You read aloud, smirking as you know she definitely does know this answer.

“Energy drinks, duh? You love them!” Kyra answers with a knowing smile.

You beam a wide smile and nod, “I do, even if I’m not technically allowed them anymore— Mean Malfoy!” You joke, looking directly at the camera and scowling.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Kyra jokes with a wink.

“Exactly,” You retort with a playful grin, “Alright, next question then– You should definitely know this, and if you don’t then, well, we need to rethink our friendship.” You tell her, jokingly.

“Our friendship’s on the line over this?” Kyra clutches her hand over her heart and faux’s her shock, “Well then I guess I’d better get it right. You adore both Shrek and anything Marvel related of course, and if it’s anything else then I’m not having it.”

“Ding, ding, ding, correct!” You grin, “I have watched them way too many times to count, but who cares?”

“I knew it!” Kyra exclaims, “Phew, our friendship still remains intact.” She jokes with you.

“For now, just as long as you answer the final question correctly,” You continue to wind her up, leaning in dramatically, “When did I join Arsenal?”

Kyra bites her bottom lip in hesitation, “See, this one was hard to remember, so I guessed and went with age 9, so I know you’ve been at the academy before signing the senior team...”

You shook her head in disagreement, “Want a clue?” You joke, amusedly, “Leah’s known me ever since I joined, and that was…” You pretend to count on your fingers, “11 years ago.”

“Oh!” Kyra’s eyes light up in realisation, “So, you were 8 then? I was so close!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “You’ve known her for 11 years? That’s wild! How’s she put up with you for that long?”

“Yeah, I know it’s– Hey, that’s cruel!” The realisation hits finally and you gasp, “Speak for yourself, you’re the Aussie pest.”

“Yeah, and you’re the British Menace,” Kyra jokes, grinning at you.

“Right that does it, this friendship is… it’s under discussion,” You shake your head dramatically, continuing to play up for the camera in front of you, “Two out of three, I suppose it’s not that bad,”

“I’ll take it!” Kyra shrugs her shoulders, “The last one really threw me off!”

You grin and wrap your free arm around her, “Awh, don’t worry. We’re still besties!” You exclaim, before attempting to wrestle her down to the floor as the older girls in the background catch wind of your antics, just as the camera stops rolling.

“Lessi is definitely the clumsy one in the team - she falls over all the time. I know that says a lot, considering I'm currently in a boot,” You say with a gleam in your eyes as a memory lights up, “Oh, oh! We have to tell them about, you know, what happened at training the other day!” You grin mischievously, already knowing the chaos you’re about to stir.

Kyra looks at you, clueless, “What happened at training?”

You snort, shaking your head in disbelief, “You don’t remember?”

“No, should I?” Kyra questions, further confused.

“Of course, yeah! About Malfoy,” You retort, a cheeky grin plastered on your face.

“Monkey, don’t you dare,” Leah warns, shooting her a look.

“I dare,” You smirk in satisfaction as you see the daunting look on Leah’s face, “You see…”

Her eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in her jaw. Right as you're about to spill the story, Leah storms over and claps her hand over your mouth, cutting off your words so all that comes out are muffled noises, “Monkey, don’t push it,” The blonde warns in a firm tone of voice.

You roll your eyes dramatically, wiping at your mouth for emphasis, “I was just gonna get the fun bit as well, ” You shrug with an exaggerated innocence, using the advantage of your crutches  to try and keep her at bay so you can continue to yap like you wanted to do, “Anyways before I was so rudely interrupted about what I wanted to say… Oh yeah, Leah completely fell over the other day and it was hilarious to watch!”

“You’re such a menace sometimes,” Leah mutters in disbelief while shooting you a playful scowl.

“Yeah, but you still love me regardless,” You flash her an innocent smile, waving your crutch around in the air, “Come on, it’s okay to admit it that you do.” You add.

Leah arches her eyebrow in response, “It’s questionable sometimes when you come out with things like you do.”

However due to your own clumsiness you end up falling over in the process which causes Leah to instantly drop her annoyed act and immediately becomes concerned instead. 

“Oh my God,” Leah’s eyes widen as she watches you fall to the floor and rushes to help you back onto your feet, “Are you okay?” She questions.

“Ow, shit, that bloody hurt,” You grumble your profound language and completely forget that there’s still a camera rolling so that’s something the media team will have to work on editing out again, “Clearly I’m not stable on my feet, like I thought I was.” You continue to grumble, accepting Leah’s hand to help you up off the floor as you hiss in slight pain.

Leah tuts and shakes her head, her previous annoyance completely forgotten about now, “You really do need to be more careful,” She chides in a gentle tone of voice, “Or you’re going to make things worse for yourself my girl.”

“Yeah,  yeah I know, you don’t need to remind me,” You huff in response and use your crutches to balance your support to save you falling on the floor again, “I’m already stuck on these crutches for what feels like the foreseeable.”

“Exactly, that’s more of a reason to be careful little miss clumsy,” Leah retorts, once she’s made sure you’re okay before she takes the chance to rip into you a bit for your usual clumsiness.

Rolling your eyes in response, “Speak for yourself when you’re the one that fell over at training the other day.” You chip in again as she flash her a cheeky smile.

“Menace,” Leah murmurs now rolling her own eyes.

It’s only now that you realise the whole interaction has been filmed, “Wait… Was the camera still filming, like all of that?” You question.

“Yep,” A member of the media team responds in agreement.

“Urgh,” You let out an exasperated groan and shove your head in your hands, “Great, everyones’ gonna see my clumsiness. Fuck sakes.”

“Monkey,” Leah chides, shooting you a stern look, “Language.”

“English,” You reply while trying to feign your innocence, “Right, shit yeah, no swearing in front of the cameras. Noted…”

“Monkey, you did it again,” Kyra snickers in amusement.

Smiling in realisation, you look at the media time guiltily, “Whoops. I did it again, didn’t I? My bad.” You apologise to them, scratching the back of your head awkwardly, “I guess you guys’ are gonna have a fair bit to edit, eh? Well at least we keep things lively around here!”

© scribblesofagoonerr

[botchedsundoll]

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; christmas hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none! pure fluff

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; ho ho ho merry christmas idc if its nov its christmas time… do ppl drink on christmas? we do so idek? icl this is all like stuff i made up bcos i don’t celebrate christmas like this but wtv we roll #wesołychświąt

C. OLIVEIRA

do not let this man near the kitchen. everything that can go wrong goes WRONG

ask him to take something out the oven, he drops it. ask him to stir something in the bowl he stirs too vigorously and it goes flying all over the counters

he’s a pain. he’s distracting. constantly getting infront of you with the mistletoe, thinking he’s slick by trying to sneak in kisses. constantly sneaking bites of food whenever he thinks you’re not looking (you are, and you smack his hands away with a spoon)

one thing he’s actually good at and enjoys is cookie decorating. he’ll make little gingerbread men of you two and make them so damn detailed. makes one for jill too, though with less care and her face ends up a bit… strange

he’s THAT person which is always ringing everyone, friends and family, wishing them a merry christmas and sends them stupid gifs slavic babcias love so much (if u dont know what i mean then☹️)

LOVES the whole aspect of the christmas tree yet hates putting it together, it pisses him off to no end and half way through ends up calling you over to help him… definitely picks you up so that you can put the star on top

if he gets an ugly christmas sweater you best believe he’s wearing it for the full day, no shame

L. KENNEDY

depends which leon we’re talking about

younger leon puts in more effort, older leon genuinely can’t be fucked to do much

walks around with a trash bag when everyone’s opening presents so there’s no mess on the floor

your guys’ house is literally the christmas function. every year. mostly due to you inviting everyone round and deciding to host it, much to leon’s annoyance but he doesn’t mind THAT much since he loves you!!

definitely the best gift giver. for some damn reason he just knows what everyone wants, genuinely no explanation for it. he just does

he’s such a sweetheart, constantly asking you if you need help with anything in the kitchen or whether you need him to pop to the store for anything

he 100% sang carols when he was younger. just imagine 7 year old leon, hair gelled back, button up shirt, stood infront of the tv singing carols (lets pretend he didn’t have all that trauma okay)… get him to sing again, he might cave once he’s drunk enough with chris

on the topic of chris, something ALWAYS happens when the pair have had a few and aren’t sober any longer. something always gets broken for some reason

one year, they randomly got up and started dancing. leon went flying into the christmas tree and took it down with him.

i hc him as having a rather large sweet tooth, so he’s always down for some cookie decorating! it’s rather sloppy and they end up looking questionable most of the time, but he ends up eating half of them before he’s even fully finished decorating so that’s not much of a problem anyways

C. REDFIELD

santa. need i say more?

nag him constantly to wear a santa outfit or atleast a santa hat. he will cave eventually

DEFINITELY gets a wallet for christmas every damn year without fail, yet doesn’t even use the damn wallets

him in the kitchen helping you out is definitely… something. he doesn’t know how to measure - what the fuck is a cup?

you asked him to help you out and stuff the turkey. he walked out the kitchen.

gets claire shitty gifts on purpose but then gives her her ACTUAL gift. they’re siblings after all, he can’t help it, old habits die hard

hates decorating the outside of the house. it’s his nightmare. all the stupid lights, just no

goes CRAZY on your gift. it’s like a little reward for all the effort you go through every year, and it’s always something you wanted badly and doesn’t fail to put a smile on your face

he’s not necessarily a fan of sweet things, but hot chocolate? that’s a completely different story entirely, you end up having to send him to buy milk since he drank the whole damn carton and there’s none left by the time you get around to actually preparing for dinner

like leon, sits there with a trash bag. he gives such dad vibes i can’t stop imagining it

him and leon ultimate christmas duo after a few drinks. all of a sudden chris is in the biggest christmas spirit ever and can’t get last christmas out his head

best thing is? he’s not even too big on christmas. he actually celebrates it just because of you, what a sweetheart

[guhamun]

THREE YEARS FELT LIKE an extremely long time. It wasn’t. Not really. It was just that so much could happen going forward. This peace felt like it was tenuous at best, though for those who were used to a constant onslaught of danger, even a short reprieve was still a reprieve all the same. It was hard for his thoughts to focus right now, Calcharo so…unused to being this close to someone else. It made him uneasy, but he wasn’t quite sure what that meant. For him, uneasy normally meant uncomfortable, suspicious, uncertain. However, he didn’t feel really any of those three emotions right now. Rather, he just felt���perplexed in a way that made it difficult to make sense of anything. Glancing away, he peered ahead again, listening to the other’s words as they spoke, rather than lingering in the chaos of his mind. ❝As you should. The Director went to see an old friend, and so that means you didn’t have to continue working. An evening without your nose pressed to documents would have served you better. Besides, it wasn’t as if you fell behind on anything.❞ Clearly not considering he had made time for the springs.

     That said ample.

     ❝Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with being ‘talkative’. One of the draws you must have with the Midnight Rangers is that you do voice your more honest thoughts. It makes them feel trusted, which in turn, makes them trust you.❞ This was the same for him as well, although he didn’t feel the need to say as much. He talked more than he ever did to a single person in an entire evening. At the thank you, he hummed softly in acknowledgement, though said nothing further. As soon as they returned to the inn, relief was quietly felt at the warmth that encompassed him the moment they stepped inside. The cold had made him tired, but this sudden heat made him want to curl up under a blanket and sleep the rest of the evening away. Released from Jiyan’s hold just as promised, he turned his gaze back to him, taking in the fact that the general seemed much more tired as well. To be expected considering how busy his entire day had been. His brows furrowed as Jiyan spoke, what was said not surprising since having nightmares was an unfortunate normality for anyone exposed to traumatic events. It was just everything else said after that that took him a bit aback.

     He had nightmare like that…?

     It wouldn’t be the first time he had seen someone react violently to be awaken from such before. But the fact that Jiyan was telling him this, meant that his nightmares were far more frequent and aggressive than he assumed. Did he dream of the battlefield? Of the death? The blood? Did his Rangers call out to him to save them from their fate? Or was there something else that plagued him when the sun fell? Calcharo didn’t ask. ❝…As you wish.❞

“They do. A part of me can’t help but wonder how much will change in the next three years." Jinzhou is doing much better now, and its citizens no longer live in fear, they lead fulfilling lives and thrive. And, while the Lament may try to strike again in the future, he's determined to not let it succeed. He wants to believe that things are different this time around, that the pieces in the board aren't the same anymore and, therefore, the result will be different. It may be his more hopeful side speaking, but he really wants to believe they're breaking out of the endless cycle they've been trapped in since the first Lament struck Solaris-3.

"..." Not even 5 minutes have passed since he promised to be more mindful of his words, and he already was having trouble keeping his less professional thoughts to himself. Golden eyes closed as he gently rubbed his face on the borrowed shoulder, briefly pondering what to say and trusting the mercenary to lead the way. “I'll admit that that had been my original plan, but Director Taoqi finished our meeting on time, and Mayor Xinyi insisted that I should enjoy my time in Hongzhen as well.” He could have taken a few documents to their hotel room and continue working on his own from then, but he didn't want to do that. Spending time with Calcharo made him momentarily 'forget' about work, he just wanted to enjoy the time spent together and learn more about them, get to know them, understand them. And, strange as it was, these things made him feel more like himself and like a complete stranger wearing his own skin at the same time. Did that make any sense? He didn't know, and he didn't ask. It did feel good, but... “I shouldn't be. I'm far more talkative like that and end up voicing my honest thoughts. But, it was fun. Thank you for indulging me tonight, Calcharo. It meant a lot to me.”

Eventually, they made it to the inn, and Jiyan sighed in relief once they entered the reception and were greeted by its warm and cozy atmosphere. And, as promised, he returned the 'borrowed' shoulder. The boat trip, all the information he received on Hongzhen, the hours-long meeting with the Mayor, the time he spent with Calcharo, and soaking in the sagaci springs were all finally getting to him. He had been worried about how the change in location would affect his already fragile sleep hygiene, but it looked like he had been worrying about nothing. With that said... it would be very irresponsible on his part if he at least didn't give the other man a warning. "If it looks like I'm having a nightmare, please do not get close nor try to shake me awake. My instinctual response will be a violent one and, even if it's something I have no control over, I do not wish to ever bring you any harm or attempt to bring you any harm." He didn't doubt that Calcharo's reflects would be faster than him, but just the thought of ever raising a hand against them made him sick.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I had to come running over here after you talked about Sebek.

I actually disliked/ didn’t care for him that much but Nightmare Before Christmas event and his vignettes definitely improves my image of him! I love how mature he is regarding Skully in the near end of the event, and I love everything about his vignettes lol which??? Never happened before??? Sebek encouraging Sally using Romeo and Juliet story (can’t believe that’s canon in twst too afsfgshs), Sebek talking about his parents’ love story, etc. It’s all so wonderful and surprising (to me).

The story card especially makes me appreciate Sebek’s character much much more.

[Referencing this analysis!]

TWSTIES, STOP SLEEPING ON SEBEK... WAKE UP AND SMELL THE OZONE... He's just a loud and excitable puppy that wants your attention and praise 🥺 (<- and this is coming from a dog disliker)

Seriously 😭 Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas and his Nightmare Suit vignettes were such good showings of his character and his maturity! I love how the upperclassmen both praise him and chide him, I love how he demonstrates his loyalty to Malleus isn't blind devotion (something he's often accused of, even in-universe) but rather noting his flaws and choosing to accept those and love him anyway, I love how he stands up to Skully, I love how he reads stories and thinks deeply about the author's intent behind the writing, I love that he related it back to his own family's experiences... But most of all, I love how SEBEK ZIGVOLT of all students (and not Rook, who feels like the more "obvious" matchmaker character) is l playing Cupid for Sally. AND I LOVE THAT SALLY NOTICES HOW KIND SEBEK IS WHEN EVERYONE ELSE SHITS ON HIM AND CALLS HIM LOUD AND ANNOYING 🥺

asklfblaiyfaigepga; I'm feeling so much love for Sebek right now, WAHHHHH OTL He's so cute... but also so dumb... Babygirl... It's like that scene in How the Grinch Stole Christmas where the Grinch's heart grows three sizes... (I’m the Grinch 💕)

Anyway!! I'm glad that more people are seeing his appeal! (And I hope that the analysis helps, even if only a little.) SEBEK TRUTHERS RISE UP ✊

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 15 - Heal My Wounds

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 5.6k words. It's the all hurt no comfort chapter.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, VERY HEAVY HURT/ little bit of comfort, miscarriage, medical inaccuracies (omega's body is all kinds of fucked up, more about that later on™), ectopic pregnancy, lot’s of pain, mentions of death, nightmares, panic attacks, angst, depression, mental health.

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Enjoy!

You’re running. You don’t know where you’re going as you sprint into the woods, and you don’t care. You don’t care how long you need to run for, you just want to get away, away from your pack. 

They said they would save her. They failed.

You’re running as fast as you can, ignoring the pain burning through your body. You will have ripped stitches for sure, but you don’t care. The rain is cold on your hot skin. There’s a deep pain in your body, throbbing with each pound of your feet on the ground. 

You don’t care. You deserve the pain.

You’re deep in the forest now. You can hear people calling for you. It’s dark and you managed to give them the slip. You trip over some roots putting out your arms to stop you from slambing painfully on the forest floor. Your neck throbs. You use your hands pushing your chest up off the ground. 

Pain radiates through your body. You stand up using a tree to support you. There are voices getting closer, and you can see lights shining. They must have flashlights. You don’t want to see them. You take a step forward. Pain shoots through your body, you push on anyway. 

You can’t keep going for much longer. It feels like someone is stabbing you in the abdomen. You press your hand on it to quell the pain, but it’s not helping. Reaching up, you feel the bandage on your neck is almost ripped off, and now it's catching your hair. You rip it off, your fingers getting coated in blood. You’ve definitely torn stitches.

You keep moving until you’re gasping for air, your lungs burning. The pain is too much, and you collapse against a tree, gripping it for support. You can’t hear their voices any more. Maybe you’ve run far enough. You cry out as you force your body to move. You think you can see a road through the trees. Maybe you’ll be able to find someone to give you a ride somewhere, anywhere away from here.

Each step is painful, and the rain is heavier. The closer you get to the opening you see that it’s definitely a road. You can see the shiny flat concrete. You climb up the embankment on your hands and knees. It takes all your energy, and when you make it up you lean against the guard rail. You take a second to look up. You can’t see stars, there are too many rain clouds. You sit there shivering as your panting becomes shallow breaths again. 

She’s dead. Dr. Piper is dead. 

You don’t have time to mourn. The stabbing pain comes back with a vengeance causing you to cry out, gripping your stomach. It feels like someone is stabbing you over and over again. It can’t be good. You don’t have time to worry about it though. You need to get away. Maybe if you follow the road you might find your way to a building or a person. 

You remember the drive with Kate but you don’t know which direction to start in. You’re all turned around. The road bends ahead of you, and you decide that’s the best way to go as long as you’re not going backwards. You straighten up your body and go to take a step forward.

There’s pain, so much pain. 

You close your eyes, gritting your teeth. You deserve this. John should have done the swap, then Dr. Piper would have been alive. You deserve this pain. You bend forward, your hand gripping the cold metal of the guardrail. 

“Over here!” you hear Kyle's voice shouting. Fuck, you have to move now. You don’t want to see them, you don’t want to be near them. You press forward trying to use the guardrail to support you. It’s going to end soon and then you will have to let go. You let out a pained groan as you force your body to stand up.  

You give yourself a second to breathe. Something's very wrong. This pain is not normal. It’s worse than anything you have ever experienced before. You take a few shaky steps, and you turn to see lights flashing through the trees. Someone calls your name. You have to move. 

You cry through the pain willing your body to go forward with everything you have. Where’s the rush of adrenaline when you need it? It’s too much though. Your body is shaking, radiating with pain and before you know it you sink to your knees. 

You kneel there in the wet mud, “move!” You grit between your teeth, you have to get away. They let Dr. Piper die. You don’t want to see them. You can’t though, your body feeling like a lead weight. You’re drenched and shivering. 

Maybe this is it. Maybe you deserve this. Karma or something. You hear noises behind you, and you can see lights shining as you sit back on your knees. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kyle says as he kneels down next to you. You turn using the last of your energy to fight him. He’s pulling his jacket off trying to throw it over you while you push him back. He’s stronger than you and you’re in pain. You scoot backwards trying to kick him.

You don’t want to see anyone. A surge of adrenaline hits you and you jump up on your feet.

“Go away!” you snap. Your head is starting to swim. You walk backwards looking at them. You can hear a car, and then next thing you know the truck you took with Kate is here. 

“Take it easy,” Kyle says, trying again to grab you. Another pain radiates through you and you cry out, falling back to your knees. You hear more voices and boots in the mud as you double over in pain again. 

“What’s wrong?” That's Johnny’s voice. He kneels down too, his hands pressing on your shoulders. More lights, and you see John jog over. You don't have the energy to fight them, you relent looking between the lights up at Kyle.

“Kyle,” you sob, reaching for him. He grabs your hand, and you fall into his chest. 

“Yeah, you’re okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hurts,” you sob, gripping your stomach. You don’t get time to register his reaction before another pain shoots through you. More voices, more lights. You grit your teeth moaning out as you’re lifted up off the ground. Your body is shaking as you’re carried into the back of a truck and laid out on a bench. 

“That’s a lot of blood,” someone says. You feel movement, the truck is moving. Your head is swimming. 

“Where does it hurt lass?” Johnny asks as you start to lose your grip on consciousness. Someone presses a bandage to your neck. There are other hands running over your body, pulling your shirt up, pressing on your legs and arms. Everything hurts.

You move your hands down your stomach to your lower body. You don’t have the energy to talk. You press your hand on your abdomen, and it makes you yelp in pain. Someone's hand is on your head brushing your hair. You can smell beta in the air. 

You're rolled over onto your side. Warm hands running down your back. Something feels wrong. Something deep inside you. Maybe you're dying of a broken heart. You’ve read about that in stories, when people lose someone they love. 

It doesn't matter anyway. You don't deserve to be here. Dr. Piper is dead. John should have done the swap. Then she would still be alive.

“Shite,” there’s a fist banging on metal that makes you jump. 

“Price, she needs a hospital!” Johnny calls. You close your eyes, you're in too much pain. 

“Don’t close your eyes, c’mon stay awake.” Kyle shakes your shoulders. You open your eyes again as you're rolled onto your back. Kyle looks down at you. You smile at him, your eyes feeling heavy again. He shakes you again calling your name. Your eyes snap open for a second, but you can't stay awake though. You close your eyes one last time and drift into unconsciousness.

…

When you wake, there’s beeping. There are bright lights above you, and there’s something on your face. It’s cold. You reach up to pull it off, even that hurts. In your whole body there's a deep throbbing pain. The beeping makes your head pound. 

There is so much pain, in your muscles, in your chest. You take a breath and it makes you wince.

Something is wrong, something's very wrong. You’ve never felt like this before. 

“Leave it on, love. You need it.” It’s Johnny. His hand comes up to yours pushing the mask back over your nose. Cold air blows on your face. You look around the room. Everything is just a blur of colours and shapes. The voices are echoing, as Johnny’s warm hand rubs your arm. You look down, you're in a bed. You can smell the disinfectant, and there’s a tube coming off your hand. You’re in the hospital.

You see Kyle standing in the doorway of the room looking out into the hall. You feel the dull throbbing get stronger.

“Where are we?” you ask, your throat raw. It’s barely words. 

“Canada, we’re at a hospital.” You’re getting sleepy again. Canada is above the US right? You can’t remember. You let out a sigh closing your eyes. 

“Just rest, we’ll be out of here soon,” he says.

…

When you open your eyes again, Simon is by your side. There is still a dull throbbing pain, and your body feels heavy. Your neck hurts as you turn it, gritting your teeth, and a groan leaves your throat. Simon seems to hear you straight away, opening his eyes and leaning forward in the chair.

You don’t know what to say. 

"How are you feeling?” he asks. You don't say anything. He lets out a long sigh.

“Is she really dead?” you ask. Maybe it was just a dream and you made it all up. You know Simon will be straight with you. He looks at you right in your eyes. He looks sad. You don’t think you have ever seen him sad. He just nods. Tears come and you turn away. 

It’s not a dream, it's a horrible reality. You’ve been here before, but this time it's different.

Your alpha did this. He promised he would save her. He lied. The one person who is supposed to protect you and be there for you through everything. He let her die.

“I can get John,” he says. You hear him shuffle in the chair. 

“No,” you sob. “I don’t want to see him.” 

He promised you he would save her. Now she’s dead. You squeeze your eyes closed. 

You can’t believe she’s dead. 

…

The next time you wake you hear quiet mumbles. You look up seeing John talking to what looks like a doctor. You turn your head. Johnny’s holding your hand. 

“Hey, how ya feeling, lass?” he asks with a smile on his face. You don’t know how you feel. Numb? Pain, you know you’re in pain, you feel it. Your stomach hurts but you bring your hand up to your neck. There’s no bandage anymore. The wound is healed. You can feel the small raised scar. 

You take your hand from Johnny pulling the blanket down. You’re in another hospital gown, you don’t care, you pull it to the side. There’s a scar just above your hip. You sit up, looking at John who’s stopped his conversation to look over at you. 

Johnny’s hand is on your back, the doctor—nurse—you don’t care is looking at you with sympathy in her eyes. The pain is dulled. They’ve been giving you pain killers. Your wounds are healing. You look at Johnny. You can smell him trying to comfort you. Your lip quivers. You know what’s happened. They don’t need to explain it.

“I'm sorry,” Johnny says, standing up and wrapping his arms around you. You let him pull you into his arms as you sob. 

You failed. Your only job is to have babies and you can’t even do that. Your body throbs. You feel sick but Johnny doesn’t let you go, holding you tight and shushing you through the sobs. You hear the room door close and you break from his arms.

John is standing at the end of the bed. You don’t want to see him, you don’t want him to even be in the same room as you. Johnny seems to sense the tension in the air as he looks between you both. He picks your hand up again. 

“I’m so sorry—” You put your hand up stopping him. You don’t want to hear his apologies. He lets out a sigh hanging his head. You force yourself to look up at him, you force yourself to hold back the tears. You look at him until you can’t hold back anymore, and you hang your head. 

He let you down. He let Dr. Piper die. Now you’ve let him down. Maybe it’s what you deserve. Karma or something. 

You lay back in the bed looking at the ceiling. Tears run down your face. You’re so sick of crying. Johnny squeezes your hand. You turn your head looking over at him. He looks at you with those wide blue eyes. You hear the room door open and close again. Johnny’s hand comes up to stroke your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear.

You close your eyes again. You try to imagine the house on the hill, the pies, the warm summer evening, the lake. You can’t, your mind goes blank. There’s no safe space anymore. No place you can go in your mind anymore. 

It’s just empty. 

There is no light, only darkness. There’s nothing. It’s like being back in the bunker. 

There’s no time anymore. You don’t move, you can barely think. What do you think about? The fact that you had a miscarriage or the fact that Dr. Piper is dead. 

There’s pain, dull throbbing, the methodical thump of your broken heart. The pain down your spine you get from each turn of your head. The deep ache in your abdomen.

You don't remember much from the hospital. You do remember never being alone. You would wake up to someone always by your side. The bewildered doctor tried to explain what happened on the day you were discharged. 

Ectopic pregnancy. You had never heard about it before. The working theory is that your forced heat caused the embryo to implant near your cervix. You didn't understand much but you listened as she did her best to comfort you. 

She was blonde too, like Dr. Piper, soft spoken with cool hands. She kept telling you it wasn't your fault. You didn't believe her. Who else’s fault would it be? You failed as an omega, and now you have to endure the pain.

At least with the pain it's something physical, reminding you that you’re still alive. Not like the dreams, nightmares, the blood, so much blood. You didn’t think it was possible to lose that much blood. Dr. Piper covered in blood, you covered in blood. You can smell it. When you wake up thick with sweat you could swear for a few seconds it’s real and you’re dripping in blood.

You don’t remember the miscarriage, you only remember the pain. When you think of the blood you remember the images of Dr. Piper, tied up and beaten bloody. 

You remember John let her die.

You don’t know where you are exactly. In a safehouse in Canada is what John said when you all arrived there. Kate is not here. She stayed in the US. You hope she’s okay. Johnny told you she has a wife, and she wanted to stay for her. If she had run with you, she’d be a fugitive. 

You haven’t left the bed you’ve been in since you got here. You sneak out to use the bathroom when everyone is fast asleep. You feel numb. Numb to everything. The only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the burn in your chest. Your wounds healed almost immediately after the miscarriage. You still ache though, your body heavy, throbbing in pain. 

Johnny or Kyle will be in soon. They’ll try to get you to take pain medication. You’ll refuse; you want to feel the pain. You deserve to feel the pain. They’ll try to get you to eat or at least drink. You try. You take in as much as you can stomach. 

Johnny likes to talk about what’s going on outside and how everyone is. Kyle keeps quiet. He just gives encouragement to keep you eating. You prefer Kyle. At night, sometimes Simon is with you. You don’t sleep, you can’t sleep. It’s like you’re there watching her die over and over again. 

You wake screaming covered in sweat. He’s there gripping your shoulders almost trying to shake you awake. The betas rush into the room soon after. You hate their scent. It reminds you of Dr. Piper. You would rather smell beta than alpha though. 

Alpha makes you think of John and you hate John right now. 

You see him sometimes, his head poking through the door, especially after you’ve woken screaming. You can smell him. His scent lingers through the apartment. It lingers on you and it always will since he claimed you. He tried to talk to you when you were more aware. Every word he said made you sob. 

Dr. Piper said pack threads are fragile things. It’s your job as an omega to keep them together. It’s almost like you can see them laid out in front of you. It’s like strings coming from you and out to each person. They’re intertwined too, connected to each other. It always comes back to you though. You keep the strings tight, keep the pack together. 

Johnny opens the door to your room. He used to knock, but they’ve stopped caring as much. They leave the door cracked open, never fully letting it close. Maybe they care too much. He’s always smiling, he never seems upset about anything. It makes you jealous. You prop yourself up on your arm as he comes over placing the tray on the bedside table and turning on the light. 

“How are you feeling today?” he asks. You don’t say anything, sitting up against the pillows. You feel tired. From the small amount of energy you don’t spend on crying, you use it to force food down your throat. He hands you a bottle of water picking up the bottle of pills. He rolls the bottle round in his hand like he does every time. 

“You don’t have to be in pain,” he says. You can hear the sadness in his voice. You open the bottle of water.

“I’m fine,” you say before taking a drink. He smiles and puts the bottle back down on the tray. You wish they would stop asking, at least they’ve stopped hovering or asking how you are every 30 seconds. Johnny sits on the bed, and you move your legs for him. 

“Simon and Kyle are going to the store tomorrow. Anything you fancy?” He brings the bowl of what looks like pasta on his knee. Guess you’re staying here for longer than you thought. Last you heard from Johnny you were still laying low until John could get a flight to the UK. 

You shake your head. You don’t want to leave. It’s going to make you feel further away from Dr. Piper than you already feel. You still feel close to Johnny and Kyle. The threads are strong with them, they’re good betas. They’re good people. 

Johnny spoons some pasta up bringing it to your mouth. You can do it yourself but you think Johnny likes playing caretaker. That makes him a good beta. Besides, you’re not going to complain, it's nice to have their company sometimes. The pasta tastes good. If there is one thing you have come to look forward to, it’s the food. 

Kyle’s been cooking. You can sometimes smell the food before someone brings it to you and it’s never disappointing. Today is no different, pasta and meatballs, ‘spag bol’ as Johnny calls it. You listen to him as he talks about what’s been going on. It’s Wednesday. The weather is nice. He offers to open the curtains and window, but you shake your head. 

Simon’s going a bit stir crazy which is why they’re going shopping tomorrow. By your fourth or fifth spoon of food you’re feeling full. You hold your hand up to stop Johnny but he bullies you into a few more spoonfuls. You lay back in the bed. Eating always makes you tired. Johnny sighs, giving up. 

At least you’re eating something, and something is better than nothing. You lay back down as you watch Johnny leave the room. The door is almost fully closed, it’s just a crack left. You reach over, turning the light off. Now the only light is coming in, through the crack in the door. 

The next time you see anyone will be if Simon inevitably wakes you from your night terrors. He’s got into the habit of sleeping in the recliner conveniently placed in your room. He doesn’t seem to mind. He seems to sleep quite comfortably anywhere. 

He does such a good job at hiding his scent.  He never smells of alpha, he never smells of anything. There are times where you crave John’s comfort, where you crave his touch. Then you remember why you’re mad at him and it makes you upset. 

Your dreams are almost always the same. You’re running through the bunker looking for Dr. Piper. The only thing that changes is what happens when you find her. Sometimes she’s already dead, sometimes you have to break into a room slowly filling with water. Sometimes you get there and John is already in the room standing over her body as he does nothing to try and stop her from bleeding out. 

The Professor is always there too. He creeps in the background, always just out of view, as if he’s stalking you. You can always hear him though, his voice echoing in the barren bunker. Then he grabs you, pulling you back from Dr. Piper so you’re always just out of her reach. You never save her. She always dies either in the room she’s been held in or at the bottom of the steps to the exit. 

So close but she never sees sunlight again. 

It’s always your fault. You can never save her.

You hear your own scream as you shoot up in bed. There are hands on you, gripping your shoulders tight. It’s always Simon, he’s holding your body as you try to calm down. It’s not long before Johnny and Kyle are running into the room. Johnny gets to you first and Simon steps back as he comes over, wrapping his arms around you. You hold him tight as he tells you everything is going to be okay and it’s all just dreams.

It’s not though because she really did die, and she really was tortured. Just like you had been, you knew what she was feeling. You hate the fact she died suffering. You hate the fact that you didn’t get to say goodbye. You hate John for making that choice. 

Johnny stays with you for the rest of the night, holding you in his arms. You never really get back to sleep. You watch the sun come up through the closed curtains. Maybe you want to go outside, although from what you’ve heard you’re in a city and not the countryside. You close your eyes letting Johnny squeeze you in his arms. 

Beta will always remind you of Dr. Piper but for now you breathe Johnny’s scent in letting it lull you back to sleep.

When you wake the bed is empty. You sit up swinging your legs out. You’re hungry, and you’re craving tea. The wooden floors are cold on your feet. You walk out of the room slowly. The apartment is an open floor plan and from your room you walk straight into the kitchen. Simon and Kyle are sitting at the table. Their eyes lock onto you as soon as your door is open. 

You look around, but you can’t see John or Johnny anywhere. You swallow the lump in your throat away. Maybe you’re not ready yet. Maybe you can’t talk to them yet. They sit up straight watching you as you take a step out the room. You wrap your arms around your chest. It’s cold; there’s a chill in the air. 

“You okay?” Kyle asks. You take a step over to the table. 

“Can I have a cup of tea?” you ask. Your voice is quiet, and you feel a lump rise in your throat. You swallow it away as you watch Kyle get up off his chair. He walks round the table to you, his hand resting on your back. 

“Want me to bring it into your room or…?” 

“Here,” you say, reaching out and pulling the chair in front of you out. He smiles as you sit down and he goes into the kitchen. You look over at Simon. He’s not wearing his mask. You realised a few days ago but you were too upset to pay attention. 

He’s handsome just like the rest of them. Not what you were expecting but you’re not sure what you were expecting. He has fluffy blonde hair, and you can see stubble coming through on his face. They’re all looking a bit rough. It feels like that’s your fault. You’re not sure what's going to happen. Maybe you’ll be staying here for longer than you think. 

“Why do you wear a mask?” you ask Simon, looking over at him. You don’t know if he’s going to answer you honestly—you don’t expect him to. You keep eye contact watching his face. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked. Maybe he’ll get mad at you.

“I like to keep anonymity in the field,” he says. You smile at him as Kyle puts a mug in front of you. You breathe in the steam letting the mug warm your hands. Kyle sits down next to you. 

“Where are John and Johnny?” you ask no one in particular. 

“Securing a plane for us, they’ll be back later,” Kyle says. You nod. Kyle’s hand comes up to rub your back. You like feeling the betas near you. Maybe you’re healing. Maybe this is what healing feels like. You can’t help it though, your mind goes back to Dr. Piper and tears well up in your eyes. 

You know they can smell your sadness in the air as you bring the mug of tea up to your lips. You don’t care that it’s still scalding hot, taking a sip and letting it burn your tongue. 

“Are we going to the UK?” you ask, putting the tea down.

“Yeah, Scotland,” Kyle says. 

“You’ll like it there. Lots of greenery, and a loch by the house,” Simon says. You look past him out the open window in the living room. You can see buildings across what you assume is the road. You look back at Simon and nod, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears away. You keep sipping the tea sitting in silence as Kyle and Simon pick their conversation back up.

You’re not really listening to them as you enjoy feeling Kyle’s hand rubbing your back and letting the cup of tea warm your body. Before you know it the door to the apartment opens. You’re holding your breath as you see Johnny and John walk in. 

Johnny smiles when he sees you coming over to the table. 

“Hey lass, finally got you out of bed.” You look down at your mug and you can see your reflection in the tea. You don’t want to be out here any more. You want to crawl back into bed and sleep. You let out a sniffle before looking back up at Johnny. 

He still has a smile on his face. You see John moving behind him. You don’t want to see him; you can’t see him. The scent of his alpha fills the air. You let go of your mug, Kyle's hand dropping from your back as you push yourself back from the table, getting up. 

You walk back into the bedroom. The bed is the only place you want to be. At least when you’re in the room, there’s a barrier between you and John. Your hand rubs the back of your neck. You feel the indents of his teeth. You can’t avoid him forever. He’s your alpha. 

You don’t want to see him right now though. You can’t even look at him without imagining Dr. Piper. He should have saved her. She deserved to be saved. 

You get into bed pulling the duvet over your head. You’re crying again, you can’t help it. The throbbing comes back deep in your chest. She should be alive. He should have saved her.

It’s after Kyle has been bullying more food into you. Someone else steps into the threshold of your door. The door opens slowly, and you can smell alpha in the air. You know it’s John before he even walks into the room. You don’t move; your body freezes up. You’re reacting like he’s a threat. 

He’s not a threat, he's your alpha. You have his mark. 

He walks into the room, the door squeaking behind him. He walks over to the recliner Simon sleeps in. Your eyes move up to watch him as he sits down, slow, keeping his distance. It’s the first time you’ve really seen him since coming here.

You swallow the nerves away trying to keep the crying at bay. You don’t want him to see you cry. All you’ve done is cry. You’re sick of crying. 

He just sits there like he’s trying to think of what to say or do. He shifts in the chair reaching into his pocket. You watch as he pulls out Piper's silk scarf. Your lip quivers as you see it. 

“I should have saved her,” he says eventually. You watch him run the scarf over his palm. He reaches over, putting the scarf on the bedside table. It’s bundled up. You can see all the colours merging together. You want to reach out and grab it. 

You look back at John as he leans forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees. You don’t have anything to say to him. 

“I know you don’t want me to say sorry. I know you hate me right now. I should have done better. I should have been a better alpha. A better person. You deserve better. I should have acted differently,” he sighs, hanging his head for a second before looking back up at you. “All I want is for you to be safe. You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to. But I'm going to be here, we all are. We’re going to take care of you.” You look right into his eyes taking all his words in. 

Of course they're going to be there for you. They’re your pack. John is your alpha. You can’t avoid him forever but you can be mad at him. You’re going to be mad at him for a long time. He let her die. He sits there as tears leak over your eyes. You blink them away each time. 

You wish you weren't mad at him. You wish things could go back to normal, or at least this new normal with your pack and Dr. Piper, outside of the bunker without the Professor. It felt like your chance to start new, your chance to have a new life. 

A life without Dr. Piper doesn’t seem possible right now. You want him to leave and leave you alone. You need to mourn, and you don’t need him trying to apologise or tell you everything is going to get better. All you hear is empty promises. 

“Go away. Please,” you say, holding the tears back. He hangs his head waiting a few seconds longer, but he doesn’t say anything, he just sits there. You watch him. He’s controlling his scent but you can still smell it heavy in the air. The ground after rain and smoke. Eventually he gets up and moves to leave. 

“John,” you choke on the sob. He stops at the door turning back to see you. “If you could choose again. Would you still let her die?” 

“She loved you, she knew what she was doing. She did it all for you, to protect you,” he says. He sighs, gripping the door. It’s not the answer you want. You look over at the scarf. 

“I should have saved her,” he says. You wipe the tears away and look back over at the door. He’s gone. 

You reach out, picking up the scarf and pulling it up to your nose. You close your eyes breathing in her lingering scent. 

The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening. You close your eyes. You let her scent go straight to your head. 

The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening. And Dr. Piper stood in the window of the house, looking over at you smiling. She’s safe, and you're happy. A sob rises inside you. You let it come out but it comes out with a smile. You hug the scarf closer to your chest. 

You need to mourn. You can’t do that with the person who killed her. 

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

[katiekatdragon27]

Sup gang, I have more doodles to shaaaaare~~

So, I recently got Glisten, and he is so fun to play as. So fun to play as in fact that I constantly play distractor on accident! It's so fun (lying)!! Both images are based on a run my friend and I had together with a few randoms in a public server. It was the farthest I've ever gotten and a blast.

You ain't never seen a distractor like meee✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️

On the topic of running, here are some doodles of Shrimpo and Pebble getting into conflict. Peb protects his owner, and if that means attacking the only dude who could pummel him in hand-to-hand combat, so be it lol.

Luckily Shrimpo doesn't like getting bit, so Dandy and Pebble get to live another day.

Below are a toooooon of shinyshrimp doodles (and a slightly suggestive joke so tread with caution lol):

Mmmmm gay men.

Glisten: "I couldn't imagine you getting any redder but you surprise me~" Shrimpo: "AAAAAAAAAA-"

What's gayer? Being gay? Or what these two have going on?

Domestic slice-of-life stuff. I think Shimpo has insomnia but tends to find comfort and sleep in human contact. Toodles has nightmares on occasion and appreciates snuggling when they occur. Glisten isn't the cuddly type, but when the people in his life need comfort, he's willing to put up with the cuddles lol. Also Glisten sleeps with an ungodly number of pillows.

Also, a funny idea I had about how short Shrimpo is compared to Glisten. That's how Glisten sees him lol.

And also..

I caved.

Here.

Shinyshrimp child upon ye🫳🫳🫳🫳

Dandy: "How the F*CK did this happen?!"

Her name is Shimmer, and she's based on an Asian Glass Shrimp (for hopefully obvious reasons). She's a sweet girl who is really really nosy lol. Just imagine Gwen from the movie Migration lol.

Also, no toons have ever created a toon themselves (it's only done if the humans working there made one by using the ichor machines), so Dandy is kinda flabbergasted about the whole thing. Ima leave it up to interpretation how they did it (cuz I have my personal hc that I'll share if people show interest lol) but it's not sexual lol.

Anyways pookies, have a good one!!

[gingeralecranberry]

PROLOGUE

𝟐-𝟎 ; 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 " 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 "

YOU KNOW, THAT'S DAMN RIGHT

☺︎ cw:

mentions of death, snakes, mentions of snakes, yaga 🙂‍↕️

Masamichi Yaga. Grade 1 sorcerer, fledgling teacher.

He hadn't been on a mission in a long time, too busy settling into his new job. Of course, he should've been grateful his superiors gave him a grace period at all. The shortage of sorcerers didn't affect the demand for their services. Whether he was in front of a chalkboard or a horrifying amalgam of nightmares, humans would feel their negative emotions. Those emotions would fester. Curses would keep being born and the godforsaken cycle would go on. He knew he'd be returning to the frontlines sooner rather than later.

Still, reclining against the beige leather seats of the Black Sedan, his mind kept recounting the details of the assignment like a mantra. Reports suggested the presence of a grade 1 curse, large, menacing, but most importantly, dangerous.

They'd only really caught a glimpse of the slippery beast from afar. Estimated to be approximately 30 feet in length and an ugly brown, it resembled a three-headed cobra with cracked, spotty scales and slimy skin. Worse yet, the underside of the cobra's hood was dotted with all-consuming, beady, black eyes that looked like mini blackholes boring through cursed flesh. The entity had been reported and registered a few days prior. At the time, there weren't any qualified sorcerers available to exorcize it.

At least, there hadn't been until now.

Brushing his thumb curiously across the unkempty stubble on his chin, he watched the scenery of Okinawa roll past the window. Unfurling like a pop-up storybook, the rural countryside this close to the shore was gorgeous. Clear, sun-bleached skies sparsely brushed with the dreamiest clouds. Greenery lay tranquil across the soil like a warm blanket, occasionally swaying in the wing. Solemnly, he noted even the happiest places on earth weren't completely free from curses.

"Yaga? Are you listening?"

"Sorry."

With his thoughts interrupted, he turned his attention back to the car he was in. It was extremely clean, polished leather gleaming and the freshly vacuumed floors soft underneath the sole of his shoe. Still, it reminded him too much of a showroom; empty, only temporarily idyllic.

The supervisor, a young brunette with sunburnt skin and a decently stocky build, only shrugged at him in response. "Eh, I get it. I'm used to sorcerers ignoring me most of the time anyways."

Yage shook his head, recollecting his focus on the back of the driver's leather jacket. "No, I'm sure it was important. I'm listening now."

Manato Inoue, his supervisor, seemed to brighten up, "Just some basic mission details, you didn't miss much." His left-hand haphazardly slapped his turn signal, "The curse was actually born a few miles away from where it is right now. Weird right?" The older man in the car grunted in response. "Well, even weirder, when it managed to get out into a more populated area, it didn't attack anyone. Eventually, after a day or so of observation, it became a low priority case."

"..."

Unbothered by his passenger's silence, he continued, "Then, out of the blue, it just kinda... I don't know, snapped?"

"...snapped?"

"Yeah, it's a tragedy really, from what I heard, the running theory is that the curse has some kind of trigger," once again the quiet 'click!' of the turn signal locking back into place toyed with the silence in the air. "It struck in a residential area, small family lived there. It's confirmed the father is dead, he was found on the front lawn and his wife was a few feet away on the porch. The youngest is presumed dead, too. So far, we only have hope for the oldest son."

Yaga nodded thoughtfully, "He was at school, right?"

Inoue hummed, eyes trained on the path in front of him. The asphalt road was starting to thin, smooth material replaced with the rough grain of gravel on his wheels. The further they drove, the narrower the path became. "He hasn't been seen at home today, we're hoping he went to a friend's house to study or something."

"Poor kid, Okinawa schools were going to close for summer soon."

"Correct," the car jumped as one of the front wheels rolled over a particularly large bump, "That's why we're hoping he left to study, he's probably got a lot of tests lined up and ready."

"Thank you, Inoue," Yaga mumbled, "The heads-up is much appreciated."

The older man caught a glimpse of the driver's cheeky grin and lax disposition in the rearview mirror, "Hey, don't thank me, you're the one that's about to risk your life."

"Still," Yaga insisted, "I'll be a lot more prepared this way. You could be saving my neck."

"Hey now," the supervisor countered, "don't get sentimental on me!" His lips parted to reveal a much more flustered smile. He cleared his throat, "The house is just around the corner, it's about time you put your game face on, get in the zone or what have you. If you die, I won't have anyone to talk to anymore."

The car turned off the gravel path, worn dirt tracks the only sign anybody had gone the same way beforehand. The men were faced with a seemingly endless menagerie of flora, thick and woven together like a barrier.

"That's... weird. I don't remember any details like that from the report."

Still, realizing the car had little to no chance of threading the needle and making it through the shrubbery, Inoue slowed to a stop a few meters away from the web of plants.

Upon closer inspection, the twist and tangle of the branches was anything but natural. They molded into one another, fusing trees and continuing to grow into one giant misshapen lump. The leaves didn't add much to the barricade, maybe decoration. Largely, the construct consisted of uncanny angles and ugly interlocking.

Already, Yaga could feel something bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Something was horribly wrong.

Inoue, on the other hand, exited the car without hesitation, heading for the trunk of his trusty Sedan.

With a healthy dose of trepidation, Yaga began to follow suit. Prying himself from the comfort and safety of the vehicle, it felt like he'd gotten a brick thrown straight at his sternum. Almost immediately, he could feel his lungs squeeze, shriveling up as he struggled to intake air. His heart jumped into his throat, bobbing up and down his neck. The air was musky, ripe with cursed energy. Despite his own rather large reserves of cursed energy, the sheer density of the concentration sent his thoughts spiraling away with the abysmal fog.

"-aga, Yaga!"

He jumped, finally coming around after his supervisor's large, calloused hand landed squarely on his shoulder.

"Geez, you're really out of it today," Elbowing him in the side, Manato tacked on a sarcastic remark to try and lighten the mood, "You need to get out of your office more, you look like you're losing it."

With the muck clouding his senses beginning to retreat to the edges of his vision, he assessed the situation at hand. Quickly, he noted the horde of cursed corpses bundled up in his chauffer's arms. His eyes landed on one in particular. Cathy, a round mint green stuffed animal. The top of her head was peculiarly bald, framed with a blue fuzz. Yaga flicked his fingers, watching as his creations began to stir.

Inoue hummed, letting the various strange looking dolls crawl out of his arms, "Well, are you ready?"

Yaga glanced back at the opening, hoping to snatch a glance at the house hidden within. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Like a switch had flipped, the other man wiped the carefree smile off his face and retired his normally laidback attitude. Closing his eyes, two fingers raised adjacent to his heart, he began to lower the veil.

"Emerge from darkness blacker still, purify that which is impure."

LOVE FOR YOU BY LOVELI LORI & OSU! VIRGIN GANG

☺︎taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten

masterlist ☓

[signanothername]

With one of the recent asks you answered being nm growing to care after going through a lot of MTT, do you think before he actually DOES start caring, or is still in denial at least, he keeps some of the old one's rooms? Maybe one he was fond of, even if he won't admit it, that he...it's not regret he feels, but he's not happy with the death of them. Or maybe a Killer's cats given to Ccino, because NM doesn't think he could care for them, but who else could right now?

(The ask Anon is referring to)

See, I was generally talking about the trope much more than Nightmare himself as a character (and certainly was not talking about my interpretation of him in that ask)

That being said, when it comes to Nightmare as a character (talking about NM in general and not specifically my own interpretation of him here) I at least believe he doesn’t have the capacity to care to that extent

Not to the extent of actually mourning them or keeping memorials of them at least, they’re expendable to him, and if he actually started caring, I think he won’t care in the way people seem to think where he genuinely sees them as irreplaceable, but rather “hey, there’s a million of you, and no matter the differences, it’s still you regardless”

So when it comes to their rooms, they just get passed down to whoever Nightmare forcefully takes away with him to replace the one before, whatever love Nightmare might hold for the trio will be close to the edge of possession, I don’t think Nightmare would hold genuine pure love for the trio, not in a way that makes sense to other people anyway (and he certainly wouldn’t show it in a traditional typical way either)

Even if we talk about Nightmare after he genuinely started caring, his way of showing care wouldn’t be the typical “taking care of your needs” type, but rather, “I will be a lot less of an asshole moving forward, and provide you with what I can”

As for things like Killer’s cats, I think Killer’s smart enough to already have them within someone’s care and it’s definitely never gonna be Nightmare (even after Nightmare’s supposed change of heart)

[ninyard]

your thoughts on riko and kevin always make me realize like a bullet to the chest how long kevin was in the nest before jean showed up let alone before he got out like what a nightmare no wonder he's Like That

No but like… do you think that Riko was jealous of Kevin and his relationship with his mom for the longest time? He never knew his mom, he never had a mom, but he had to watch her kiss Kevin’s head and call him love and tell him she was proud of him?

I wonder if Riko made fun of him for mourning because he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be sad to lose a mother figure. Maybe he felt glad that she was dead, because now Kevin knew what it felt like to not have a mom. He understood Riko, now, and he had to know that he didn’t need her. Riko did just fine without one, so what was the big deal?

Was there any part of Riko that wanted to comfort Kevin, stood in a room with Tetsuji, cold and clinical and unloving as he told him that his mother had died that morning? Or did he smile in the corner of the room, like he’d been waiting for this moment, to have Kevin to himself without the distraction of love and family getting in the way? What if Kevin knew not to cry in front of Tetsuji, and left the room with a trembling lip until he was alone with Riko in their bedroom where he broke down, too young to understand, too young to know such a huge feeling of loss.

I think Riko would’ve used his vulnerability during that time in his life to assert his control over him, to plant the seed that Kevin needed him. Do you think Kevin believed him when he told him he shouldn’t cry over her? Did Kevin believe him when he told him that his mom didn’t love him, when he told him that she was just a distraction? Was it the excuse Kevin needed to put everything into his sport? (Is it why he can’t see death as more important than exy, because all that time he should’ve spent mourning his mom was spent ignoring her death instead, because this was always going to take priority over a mom that went and left him anyway?)

[mayasaurusss]

TRANSFEM VIRGIN JACKIE TAYLOR X READER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Transfem virgin Jackie Taylor blurbs

Contains: transfem Jackie, smut, 1700 k words blurb.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have delayed this for so long anon😥. I promise that next time I'll do it quicker and also more explicit🙇‍♀️ It's not as explicit as my other recent Lucy nsfw blurb, but I hope you guys will enjoy it still! P.s i know that's Rhiannon in the photo, just pretend it's Jackie alright?

Jackie who survived the wilderness, who has come out of it scarred and traumatized. She has seen death and famine, and her personality and mental health become severely affected. She is introverted, shy and her outgoing personality has been frozen under pain and nightmares.

But she pulls through, and manages to go to college like she had wanted. She thinks that she can make a new life for herself, but as it turns out, college life isn't what she is supposed to be: making friends is hard, exams are tough and her professors are just shitty people. After all she has been through, she doesn't think that she'll be able to have any friendship ever again, not like the one she had with Shauna, anyway.

She doesn't have any roommates until you show up. One day you just barge in her room, suitcase in hand and say "I'm your new roommate!". Truth to be told, as much as she wishes for a friend, Jackie would rather have some peace and quiet. That's what she says to herself anyway, until your company starts to grow on her. She didn't really understand how lonely she was. You guys start to spend your nights together, playing card games, chit chatting, watching movies on Netflix and so on. But slowly, something happens to Jackie's heart. Nothing major, of course, but she feels...weird. Why does her heart throb when she sees you? And what about the butterflies in her stomach? Why is she jealous when other guys and girls flirt with you? And why is she so damned angry at you for not realizing their intentions?

Maybe she is just envious or jealous, but the thought of other people trying to get in your pants makes her angry. For a while, she thinks she's being unreasonable: you are her first friend after the incident; of course she'd want to gatekeep your relationship. And after all, she seems only to attract people who will hurt her and who she will hurt. She distances herself from you, thinking that maybe "I'll be a bad influence, I should just leave them alone". But then one day, she makes a connection.

You have been gone to class for half of the day, leaving her alone inside your dorm room. She needs a little bit of space, and she has been stressed for a while.

She watches as two women grind against each other's bodies on her phone, their skin sweaty and their kisses passionate. One of them pulls out a strap and ties it to her hips, sinking it inside the other's. Jackie sits underneath her covers, stroking herself, curling her fingertips downward at the base, when a thought flashes inside her mind. "Wish we could do that..." and her brain immediatley swaps the bottom's face with yours, interchanging you between the dominating and the dominated. Her heart races, thoughts of you two on her bed, together, grinding against each other... and then kissing tenderly after all is done, giggling and falling asleep together. The feeling inside Jackie's heart is warm, so good that it makes her ache. And as she comes down from her high, she puts two and two together: she has already felt this way once, long ago in the cold of the wilderness, and recalls the pain of how she felt when she had-. Jackie stops and understands, an almost guttural "Fuck!" comes out of her throat.

And as if the situation is not bad enough, you come in a few minutes after her little panic attack. She's still naked underneath the covers, goosebumps travel along her skin when she sees you coming in. She makes an effort in justifying why she was naked underneath, "I just sleep this way when I'm hot, you know?" you make no remark on how it's november and her covers aren't warm enough to sleep under unless she wears something, but oh well.

Jackie who feels embarrassed to masturbate from then on. No matter how hard she tries, you're inside her mind, constantly. She tries to muffle her moans on her covers, stroking up and down her length with you sleeping soundly on your bed. You'd be horrified, she thinks, at the images she has of you in her mind: above her bouncing and with your hands at her throat, beneath her on all fours, cuddled in her arms while she moves from behind...

Jackie who has a hard time going to her lessons because no matter what she does, you just seem to not get out of her head. She needs you to have her in your arms, kissing her. Who has to go out of class early to take care of her little problem.

Jackie, who feels bad about masturbating with you in her mind, who feels dirty and unlovable as she does so, but she can't help it, her body can't help it. And all the while, a little voice tells her that "You're not good enough" and "They won't love you, How could they love you of all people? She didn't love you, he didn't love you; why should they? ".

Jackie who steals glances of you, imagining your hands on her chest, your lips on hers. Who yearns to kiss you so bad it hurts. Who has to go to the bathroom at least once per night whenever you two are spending time together. You don't know what she is doing, but shrug off your concerns.

Jackie who finally gets caught by you. You stand outside the doom room, listening to the sounds coming from the other side. Moans, groans, wet movements and little slips of your name here and there make it obvious to you what Jackie is doing. You slip inside the room, as slowly and quietly as possible, watching how Jackie is bucking up in her hand, hips chasing upwards the feeling. You smile, deciding to approach her with a simple "Hey" but your voice gives Jackie a small heart attack and she shouts, covering her body as best as she can, leaving her chest out in the open and her legs uncovered.

"How...how long have you been there?" she asks, blood freezing with shame and mind racing, trying to understand if you've heard her say your name. "Long enough to understand what's going on" you sit on the bed, too close for her liking, giving her a knowing smirk that she already knows the meaning of. "You were thinking about me, weren't you?" her body stops, missing heartbeats and air. She can feel tears prickling at her skin, but you quickly say to her "I-No Jackie, I liked it". From then on, you tell her how you wished to do the first step, but how you were always so scared that she might've not liked you, how you yearned for her lips on yours. The moment you two are done talking about your feelings, you all but leap into each other's arms.

Jackie who can't help but get hard almost instantly. She can feel blood traveling through her veins, pooling at her crotch, warming her skin and flesh. Who will have to clench her hand around her cock to ground herself, to avoid cumming just from kissing you. She will feel so good from just kissing you that a drop of cum falls from her slit, signaling just how full she is, ready to let all of her pleasure out.

Jackie who feels so incredibly good when you ignore her cock and press two fingers beneath her balls, mimicking fingering her. She's already so hard as it is, and your actions only serve to egg her on more.

Jackie whose hands are shaky as she undresses you, full of eagerness and craving every part of you. Who, as soon as your chest is naked, will plant wet open mouth kisses on any inch of your skin, feeling your muscles harden against her ministrations.

Jackie who will climb on you, cock pressed between your and her stomachs, grinding back and forth. Who will get off like that, grinding on your stomach. Who will spend her time under your crotch, head pressed in between your hips and the mattress. Who will feel euphoric and decide to not touch herself in any way.

Jackie who's cock throbs in need, tip and balls red as she desperately tries to hold it in, wanting only your hands on her.

Jackie who confesses, as you are about to push her length in, that she is a virgin. She sweats and apologizes, already ready for you to leave her hanging, but then lets out a loud gasp when she's finally stilled inside of you.

Jackie who trembles as you ride her into oblivion, hands shaky gripping with force at your sides, short of breath and eyes rolling backwards. She has never felt this way with anyone else, not Jeff nor Shauna, just with you. It's euphoric, it's amazing, and she doesn't wish you to stop anytime soon.

Jackie who has very low stamina but a super high libido. She'll release the precum already five minutes after you start to bounce on her, staining white the condom she wore, panting like she just crossed the line in a marathon run. You haven't even cummed yet, and as you're about to hop off of her, she grabs your hips again and mumbles incoherently, grinding you back against her as she starts to harden again.

Jackie who at one point, decides to move you and fuck you from above, fingers gripping the sheet near your head. She moves erratically, gasping and panting and moaning, her hips pushing into you at a speed you didn't even know she was capable of. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato, lips coming to settle on yours as she moves back and forth, back and forth.

Jackie who, when she cums, sees stars behind her eyelids and feels like she's about to faint.

Jackie who falls asleep almost immediatley between your arms, snoozing off with the knowledge that she has finally found someone to rely on.

[vodika-vibes]

Hard Times

Summary: You’ve been hiding your problems from Jesse, he has so many things to worry about already and you don’t want to add to his problems. Only, he’s coming home and you’re not sure you can hide this from him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1266

Warnings: Nightmares, Reader is having prophetic dreams about order 66

A/N: Do I have over 80 requests sitting in my inbox? Yes, yes I do. Did I want to write this instead? Yes, yes I did. Anyway, happy reading!

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You’re glad Jesse is home.

Sure, he has a few more scars than he did when he left. And sure, his armor is a little more dinged up, a little more worn in some places, but he’s here and he’s alive and you’re so happy about it that you cried when you saw him.

His first day back is always a little strained. 

It takes time for him to decompress from being on the ship, but a good meal and a hot shower do wonders. Plus, he can pull you in for a hug or a kiss, and every time he does you can feel the tension draining from his body.

And when he lays next to you in bed, his arms secure around you and his face pressed into your hair, he falls asleep in a matter of moments. 

You wonder if it makes you a horrible person that you resent him for that, a little.

You haven’t had a good night's sleep in weeks. Your nights are haunted by blood and screams and a cold that lingers even when you jolt awake from your nightmares. And, even after you wake up, your hands tremble for hours after the fact, and some nights you even have to throw up, the dreams are so bad.

So that’s where you find yourself. Safely wrapped in Jesse’s arms, eyes burning from how tired you are, and exhausted down to your bones. But too afraid of your dreams to actually fall asleep.

Honestly, you're surprised that he didn’t clock your exhaustion when he showed up this morning. Everyone else in your life has.

He’ll notice in the morning, you know. Jesse is stupidly observant when he’s not recovering from a long deployment. 

Jesse sighs in his sleep, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you closer. Almost as if you’re a beloved teddy bear. You turn your head to watch him sleep for a moment. 

He looks peaceful. Untroubled. As if the stress of his life doesn’t exist now that he’s here, in your bed. 

You have to fight the urge to brush your fingers across his cheek. Even a light touch will be enough to wake him up, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

How could you be afraid of anything with Jesse right here?

And slowly, without your permission, your eyes flutter closed as sleep claims you.

Cold. It’s so cold.

Lights dim, and then go out completely, drowning you in a sea of frigid darkness. Only a few dim lights remain, but they’re so far away. Too far away.

The more the lights go out, the colder it gets.

Is this how it ends? Is this how everything ends—

“Cyare! Wake up”

Your eyes snap out, and it takes you a moment to realize that you’re still safely in bed. Jesse’s hands are on your shoulders, and he looks worried, though the expression fades as your gaze meets his.

“Jess—” You’re trembling from the cold, it feels as if someone shoved ice into your bloodstream.

“You were having a nightmare,” He grabs a fleece from the end of the bed and drapes it over you, it won’t help. You know from experience, “Your temperature just dropped, are you okay?”

His hand presses against your cheek, and he frowns before he leans to the side table and grabs his comm, “I’m calling Kix. You’re like ice.”

“I’m okay,” Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, “I’ll be alright when the sun rises.”

Jesse stares at you, unimpressed, “Yeah. No. I’m calling Kix.”

You sigh, and your gaze flickers to the chrono next to the bed. Four hours. You’ve only slept for four hours. Jesse moves out from under the covers, and you watch as he slips into the fresher, still listening to his brother. 

He returns with a thermometer and passes it to you.

You already know what it’s going to say, but you stick the small device under your tongue anyway. Your temperature is going to be edging towards hypothermic, but not so low that you’re actually in danger.

At least, that was what Spoogle told you when you started having these nightmares.

It beeps and you hand it back to Jesse, who dutifully reports the number to his brother. Whatever Kix says clearly bothers Jesse, based on the way his eyes narrow at you, and then he hangs up the comm.

“Jesse?”

“Kix says to get you into a warm shower. Not hot, but warm.”

“Jesse, I’m fine.”

He takes your hands, pulls you out of the bed, and tugs you towards the fresher, “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Kix is on his way right now.”

“It was just a nightmare, Jesse. Really, I’ve been dealing with this for a month now.” 

His hands pause from where they’re tugging your sleep shirt off, and he pins you in place with a disappointed look, “Your temperature has been dropping like this every night for a month? And you didn’t see a doctor?”

“I…well…Spoogle said—”

He sighs and turns to start the water, “Babe, I love you but you’re such a dingbat sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“Your lips are blue.” He counters flatly, and then he turns and lifts you into the shower. The warm water burns against your icy skin, and you flinch out of the way.

Jesse’s frown deepens, and he turns the temperature down a little, “How’s that?”

Hesitantly you hold your arm under the water, and when the water doesn’t burn like fire, you step under the spray of water fully. “It’s better,” You admit, as the shivering starts to slowly subside.

“Good.” He scans you for a moment, “So, these nightmares. What are they about?” Jesse asks as he props open the fresher door so he’ll be able to hear the doorbell when Kix arrives.

You shrug and fold your legs to sit on the floor of the shower. You’re too tired to stand, “I don’t remember the details. Just the cold, and the blood. And the dark.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh, “You’re fighting a war, Jesse. I didn’t want to distract you.”

He sighs as well and crouches next to the tub, his hand coming out to press against your now-soaked hair, “I’d like it if you told me these things, cyare. We’re supposed to be partners.”

“Sorry.”

“I forgive you.” His hand moves to cup your cheek.

“...I should get out of the shower before Kix gets here.”

“No.”

“...but I’m naked?”

Jesse huffs out a laugh, “It’s Kix, and he’s coming here in his capacity as a medic. I don’t think he’ll care that you’re naked.”

“Oh.”

Something softens on his face, “If it bothers you, though, then we can get you dressed before he gets here.”

You pause and then nod slowly, “I’d prefer that.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” His hand is still so gentle against you, that you sigh and lean into his touch.

“Love you, Jesse.”

“I know, cyare. I love you too.” He runs his thumb across your lips, “The fact that you’re sick is probably why you’re having these nightmares. Kix will help.”

“...yeah.”

You know, somehow, that the dreams are warnings. But how are you supposed to say that? You’re no Jedi. You are just some lady from the lower levels who works as a translator. 

Maybe he’s right, though. Maybe your dreams aren’t a warning of something to come. But, if they get much worse, maybe you’ll ask Jesse to bring you to the temple.

Just in case.

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[hheaven-sentt]

blood and bone III

summary: vulnerability leads to injury. sometimes, injuries can heal with minimal scarring | leon kennedy x gn!reader

word count: 4.8k

warnings: mentions of violence and gore, alcohol consumption, language, two idiots in love, angst for a bit, mentions of regrets and a bit of self loathing, reveal about reader (i have been planting the seeds of it omg i'm so excited)

notes: part 3 as promised omg i feel unstoppable | ao3

one | two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like there’s a hole in your chest. You go through the motions, not paying attention to much else. It feels good to throw yourself into your work. There’s nothing else keeping you steady anymore. The sting of rejection hangs heavy on your skin, it’s all you can think about. Does Leon know? Does he know that you want to know him as intimately as you know guts and sinew? Does he know how bad it hurts to know that he won’t let you?

“You’re being dramatic,” Rebecca says. You look at her through your lashes over the files you’re examining. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,”

You sigh. No, perhaps it wasn’t. “I don’t know,”

Rebecca frowns, contorting her soft features into some kind of sympathy, and leaves you to your sorrow.

Your apartment is so empty when you return to it. It’s always been this way, but it somehow feels worse now. Before your trip to New York, you’d had something to hope for. You felt a bit brighter. Now, you feel as empty as the living room of your place. It’s too cold here.

You collect your forgotten glass from last night. There’s a bit of liquor still loose in the bottom. You wash it out in the sink and place the glass on the counter. You feel like crying.

Everything is too much. The case that is no longer yours lives in your brain, Leon’s rejection weighs down your bones, and you feel more alone than you have in months.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until the salty taste runs over your lips. Tears claw at your throat, feeling like barbed wire scratching at your insides. You try to blink them away, but it just makes their assault worse. With a sigh, you sink to the floor. You feel pathetic, crying on your kitchen linoleum. There's nothing worse than crying alone in a place not meant for tears. You breathe in deeply, feeling empty with each intake. You put your head in your hands.

It’s then that your phone rings. With a groan, you stand, snagging the phone from where it rests on the counter. You flip it open with one hand.

“Hello?” you ask, sniffing aggressively in order to maintain some sort of composure.

“You okay?” Rebecca’s voice, soft and delicate, drifts into your ear from the speaker.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Place is real dusty, made the mistake of kicking it all up,”

With a small laugh, Rebecca continues. “I just wanted to remind you of the gala tomorrow night. The whole team is going, which includes you, so wear something nice,”

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll sit this one out. Those places make me anxious anyway,”

“No way,” Rebecca says. “You have to come. You’re, like, the guest of honor,”

You frown deeply, scrunching your features together in what looks like a wince. A gala is the last thing you need right now. It really sounds like your worst nightmare.

“He’ll be there,” Rebecca says. You frown more.

“Is that supposed to convince me to come?” you ask, picking at a piece of the counter that’s peeling up.

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Probably a month ago,” you say, pursing your lips. “Haven’t seen him since we got back from New York,”

“Yikes,” Rebecca says. You roll your eyes. She doesn’t know the half of it. “Just wear something nice, okay? I expect to see you decked out in all your best jewels,”

“Right, because I’m known for those,” you joke.

She bids you goodbye, and you stare at the shadows on your floor cast by your body in the light of the rangehood. You don’t even know what you would say to Leon. An apology doesn’t seem quite right, neither does pretending nothing ever happened. If anything, you’re sort of hoping he ignores you completely. That would be much easier than pretending to enjoy small talk.

With a groan, you take yourself to bed. This is something you can think about in the morning.

The sunlight does not shed any new perspective on the situation. You’re hopelessly staring at your closest, running through your options of what to wear.

“This is childish,” you mumble to no one in particular, and thread through your clothes to find a simple button down and pleated pants. They will have to do.

You dress quickly. You’re stuffing your shirt into your pants when a button pops off. It lands with a clang against your mirror. You groan, a long, drawn out sound that releases some of your tension. Why can’t anything go right for you on days like this? You reach down to pick up the fallen button, choosing to discard it on your nightstand. Maybe you could figure out how to sew it back on. It can’t be much different than sewing up a wound, right?

The taxi ride to the banquet hall is silent, save for the staticky noise of the radio. The cabbie doesn’t speak, and you prefer it that way. There’s not much for you to say anyway, at least in terms of small talk. You’re not exactly keen on sharing your pathetic situation either. So you remain silent until you pull up to the building. Checking your pockets for your necessities, you push out of the cab. It’s starting to drizzle, so you hurry inside.

You find Rebecca quickly, wearing a beautiful tan dress that hugs her figure well. You suddenly feel frumpy. The cuffs of your sleeves are fraying, your shoes are a size too small, and your pants barely brush the tops of your feet. Maybe you should’ve just stayed home.

“You made it!” Rebecca cheers, shoving a glass of champagne into your hand. “I wasn’t entirely sure you would,”

You force a smile, and say, “Me neither,”

She grins at you, threading her arm through yours. She drags you amongst the other guests, greeting the ones she knows and introducing herself to the ones she doesn’t. You admire her ability to fit into any space. There’s no evidence to suggest that she has ever seen horror, no clues that point to sorrow running in her veins. You cannot say the same for yourself. You’re fidgety, uncomfortable, and try your best not to speak to others. Your eyes shift across the ballroom, looking at the hundreds of heads that are crammed into the space. It makes you frown.

“Doing okay?” Rebecca asks. You nod. “We can find somewhere to sit?”

“You keep mingling,” you say, pulling your arm free from her. “Come find me when it gets boring,”

She flashes you a smile that has lingering worry, and lets you drift into the crowd. This is the last place you want to be, and she knows it. You find an empty table near a big window. The curtains are drawn back, and you can see the rain beginning to pelt down onto the courtyard outside. You’re not sure how long you watch the rain fall, casually sipping your champagne. The screech of a chair being pulled out beside you draws you back to reality.

Leon looks handsome, albeit uncomfortable, in his pressed suit. He fidgets with the cuffs of his jacket as he sits, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You swallow hard.

“You looked lonely,” he says, adjusting in his chair. “Figured you could use some company,”

“I appreciate the kindness,” you say, setting your glass onto the table. He finally levels his gaze on you, and a chill snakes down your spine. “I’m alright, though,”

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get away from the crowd,” he says, half smiling. 

You’re not sure what to say, so you don’t say anything. You turn your gaze back to the throng of people casually conversing like nothing bad has ever happened. The thought makes you frown. Of all the horrors and devastation you’ve seen, this has got to be the worst. People mingling and drinking like others aren’t dying a few states away.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Leon’s voice pulls you back to him. It’s a bit gruff and worn, like he’s been talking all night. Maybe he has. “Seeing people dance and laugh and be so care free?”

You nod. “They have no idea what’s out there,”

“No, they don’t,” he says, trailing his eyes over your crossed legs. “Maybe it’s better that way,”

“Maybe,” you muse, reaching for your glass again. It was half full before Leon sat down; it’s now almost completely empty. Your mouth feels dry.

“How’ve you been?” Leon asks, leaning forward, forearms on his knees. You watch him carefully, like he’s hiding something.

“Fine,” you say. You’re not sure why the words come out so clipped. You can’t find it in yourself to be sorry, though. He wants arm’s length? That’s what you’ll give him. “You?”

He frowns. “I’m alright. Just haven’t heard from you,”

“Didn’t know you wanted to,” you say. The lines around his mouth deepen, and you want to kiss them away.

“Are we back to this, then?” he asks. You feel his gaze on every inch of your skin. You feel suddenly exposed, raw. You frown.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” you ask, swallowing. “Easier that way,”

You’re not sure why you throw the words back in his face, but you don’t exactly regret it. He watches you like he’s studying you.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, voice low and delicate, like he’s treading uncharted waters. You suppose that’s exactly what he’s doing.

You frown. “You said it. Not me,”

“But is that what you want?”

You don’t know. You want him to give you more than surface level. You want him to be open with you. You want him to laugh at your jokes, and sit on your couch, and help you cook dinner. You want him to know you.

“I don’t know, Leon,” you say. Something sparks in his eyes, an emotion you can’t quite place.

He’s silent for a while before asking, “What’s your sister’s name?”

You gape at him. “Angela,”

“Did you like having a sibling growing up?” he asks, scooting his chair a few inches closer.

You smile a bit. “Sometimes. Other times, I wanted her to disappear. Y’know, sibling quarrel and all that,”

“I don’t, actually,” he says. You furrow your brow. “I didn’t have any siblings,”

“Oh,” you say, because there’s not much else you can say. “You’re welcome to have mine, if you like,”

He laughs then, bright and wide. “I think I’m alright. I’ve learned to like being alone,”

“What did you do?” you ask. “Before everything, I mean,”

He contemplates your question for a moment, like he’s deciding if he wants to share pieces of himself with you. “I was a cop,”

“Noble,” you say, smiling. “That tracks,”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” you say, sighing. “Was training to be an EMT, but…things got in the way, and now I’m here,”

“So you’ve always been interested in medicine?” he asks. You nod. “Did you ever want to be a doctor?”

“No,” you say. “Wanted to be in the thick of it. Saving lives, and all that,”

He grins. “Bet you regret that a bit now,”

You shrug. “Sometimes. I like my job,”

“Even when it’s hard?”

“Even when it’s hard,”

He’s silent then. You watch him watch you. Something shifts in the tension between you, and you relax into your chair a bit more. There’s no one else in the room, no music playing, nothing. Just you and Leon, trying your hands at getting to know someone. You’re not sure you know how to be vulnerable like this anymore, not after everything. Visions of blood caked under your fingernails and memories of the screams of the damned make knowing another person challenging.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask. He grins at you like a child.

“Green,” he says. You nod. “Yours?”

“I like a good burgundy,” you say. He rolls his eyes playfully. “Or maroon,”

“Are those not the same thing?”

You laugh. “Not even close. Burgundy is more brown, maroon is more of a reddish purple,”

“Right, my bad,” he says, smiling.

The hole in your chest begins to close. This feels like an olive branch. You want to pull him into your orbit, feel him on every inch of your skin. You want him to consume you. You’re almost positive that he would.

“Come dance with me,” he says. You almost drop your jaw at the suggestion.

“Who are you and what have you done with Leon?” you tease, wringing your hands together. You want to take him up on the offer, more than you think you know, but it doesn’t seem like something he would do. You’re almost worried that this is some cruel ploy.

He laughs. “We can do something normal for once. No harm in it,”

You nod, standing to follow him into the crowd of other couples. His hand is steadfast on your waist, the other gently clasping one of your own. You feel stiff as he leads.

“Loosen up,” he says, leaning further into you. Your throat feels like it closes up.

“I’m loose,” you lie. He grins at you, perfectly soft lips pulling around his stupidly white teeth. God, you want to kiss him.

You decide then that you don’t want easy. You don’t want to keep him at an arm’s length, and you’ll do anything to convince him he doesn’t want it either. You want him, wholly and vulnerable, completely. You want him to look out for you. You want to do mundane, domestic things with him. You want to cut his hair because the barber never gets it right. You want to walk into the kitchen and see him doing the dishes, not because you asked but because he wanted to clean up your conjoined space. You want to fold laundry with him.

You’ve never wanted this way, or this much. Before, you’d been so content to let him be cold and detached, to throw yourself into your work and live alone. Now, you’re not happy with that. And you think he knows that too.

“You look nice tonight,” he says, voice low and gentle. It washes over you in a wave, settling your bones and warming your blood.

“Careful,” you tease, smiling. “I might think you’ve gone soft on me,”

“I think you knew that already,” he says. “This is the part where you tell me that I look nice too,”

He does look nice. You knew that already. His suit is almost all black, save for the cuff links that shine against the lights of the ballroom. He looks more than nice. He looks perfect, collected.

“Well, now you’ve gone too far,” you say, grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt. He rolls his eyes. “You do look nice, though,”

When the music fades out, he doesn’t let go. You don’t want him to anyway. You want to stay here, like this, forever. You want him to keep holding you until you’re both no more than dust. He drums a rhythm on your side with his fingers, and a shiver runs through you.

“Take a walk with me,” he says, almost bumping his nose with yours when he leans in to look at you. He’s a hair’s width away, and if you leaned in a touch, you’d be kissing him. You wonder what would happen if you did.

“Okay,” you say.

He leads you out of the crowd by your hand, which you can feel the beads of sweat beginning to form upon. You catch Rebecca’s eye as you move through the crowd. She gives you a wide smile and a subtle thumbs up, which you scowl at. It’s raining hard when you exit the ballroom. You can barely see the cars on the street ahead of you through the thick sheet of water coming down.

“Still want to take that walk?” you ask, looking up at Leon. He’s still holding your hand. He grins at you.

“Afraid you’ll melt?” he returns. You laugh. He gives your hand a squeeze. “Just for a bit,”

You’re soaked to the bone two minutes after you step into the shower. Your clothes stick to every inch of your skin and a cold wind blows, threatening to freeze the very marrow within your body. You won’t let it, not when Leon is looking at you the way he is, cheeks tinged pink from laughter and smiling so wide that you can see your reflection in his teeth.

He never once lets go of your hand as he leads you down the sidewalk. You’re silent, but it’s not uncomfortable. A car whizzes by, nearly splashing you, but Leon pulls you into him and covers your body with his. You catch a whiff of whatever fancy cologne he’s wearing, and you almost feel drunk on it. Maybe it’s the champagne you’d been sipping, but you’re not sure. He keeps you within reach, just in case another car attempts to sour your evening, he says.

“Why do you never call me by my name?” he asks suddenly, looking at you through stringy and soaked hair.

You shrug. “Everyone calls you by your name,” you say. “That’s also not entirely true. I only call you ‘Kennedy’ sometimes,”

“Only when you’re mad at me,” he says, grinning. “Which is often,”

“Well,” you say, returning the wattage of his smile. “There’s your answer,”

You stare at him for a moment, taking in the sheer beauty of his person. Before, you’d thought he was all hard edges and crisp lines. That he would cut you if you got too close. Now, though, in this moment and this lighting, he is the softest thing you’ve ever seen. Round cheekbones, soft lips, gentle features that are perfectly symmetrical. He has a few freckles dotted across his cheeks, smile lines that make his eyes crinkle. A hairline scar that extends across his right cheek. Without thinking, you reach out, smoothing your fingertips over it. It’s not that deep, barely snagging on the ridges of your fingerprints. You hear a breath hitch in his throat at the movement.

“Sorry,” you say, retracting your hand. “I didn’t mean to do that,”

“It’s okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes scan your face, lashes fluttering against the assault of the rain. He returns the gentle gesture by pushing a few wet strands of hair out of your eyes. His touch is ghostly, barely there.

“I never thanked you,” you say. He furrows his brows. “For staying with me that night. It…it really helped me,”

“You needed me,” he says. “Did you know that you snore?”

You bark a laugh that you can’t stop from bubbling over the surface. “I do not,”

He grins. “You totally do. It’s almost scary. I didn’t know a person could make that kind of noise,”

“You’re so mean,” you say, frowning. “You really know how to flatter someone,”

He rolls his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go. I need out of these clothes,”

He leads you down a few winding streets, making turns that seem random. It dawns on you then that he’s bringing you back to his apartment. Your heart leaps into your throat, clogging up your breath and your functioning. Your brain is swimming. You’re going to see how he lives, what his life looks like outside of work. He’s letting you.

He only drops your hand to get the door open. The lock jams, which you can’t help but laugh at, and then he’s finally letting you into his space.

His apartment is almost bare, similar to yours. White walls wrap the space, a few items dotted around on tables. He doesn’t own a television, you note. There’s a wall of shelves, though, filled pretty decently with books. You didn’t take him for a reader, but you suppose it makes sense. You toe your shoes off near the door, soaked clothes dripping onto the hardwood floor beneath you.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say, looking up at him. He shrugs.

“Better rain water than something else,” he says. You smile.

You follow him to his room, watching the way he begins to loosen in the space. Regardless of the lack of personality, this place is his home. It’s where he feels most comfortable, most him. And he let you into it. He digs through a tattered dresser that has likely seen many homes, turning only to haphazardly chuck an old shirt at you. You barely catch it, letting out a huff of air at the impact. He follows it with a pair of shorts.

“You’re welcome to shower,” he says, tugging off his sopping suit jacket. He begins working on the buttons of his shirt next, and you almost let your jaw drop.

“I think I’m done with water for a few hours,” you say, cheeks growing warm. He’s halfway to his navel when you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You guess on which door it is and push into it, closing it behind you. You catch your breath.

You feel giddy. You can’t help the childish smile that creeps onto your lips.You change quickly, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You look frumpy, but very comfortable. You wonder what you’ll do next. Maybe he’ll just call you a cab and send you home. You pray to whoever is listening that that isn’t the case. With a heavy exhale, you leave the bathroom.

“Just leave your clothes in there,” Leon hollers from his bedroom. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow,”

You nod, following his voice. He’s clad in a sweatshirt that is a bit too big on him and a pair of sweatpants. He looks so human. You take a moment to look around the room. Where he didn’t have a television in his living room, he does have one in here. You think that’s odd. There’s a VHS player balanced precariously on top of a few books, wires running across the floor to connect to the television on a table. You wonder if this is where he spends most of his time. He leans over the VHS player, popping a tape into its mouth. Then, he settles into his bed.

You’re standing in the doorway, wearing his clothes, watching him get comfortable in his bed. You feel like some weird stalker or voyeur. It makes the tips of your ears burn.

“You can come sit, y’know,” Leon says, grinning at you. Something shifts in his gaze; he must see the turmoil on your face. “Or I can call you a cab,”

You shake your head, moving to join him. He leaves plenty of space between you–always the gentleman. You don’t recognize the movie playing on the screen, but you watch it anyway, focus so trained on it to prevent you from staring at Leon. The film drones on even though you’re not really paying attention. Leon shifts beside you, arm brushing against yours. You almost stop breathing. You feel silly for feeling this way; childish, weak, vulnerable. You wish you could be more nonchalant, more like your peers. But you don’t know how to be like that anymore. You only know quick action and timidness. You only know how to hide vulnerability for the sake of keeping people from asking if you know what you’re doing. You only know how to be closed off in the hopes that people won’t ask you how you are.

Because you know the answer. You know that if someone asks, you might unload on them. You might tell them how much you miss your family, how hard it is to dig through bodies and pull out their most valuable pieces. You might tell them how much you miss home, how much you regret taking a job in Raccoon City, how much you wish you’d stayed in school, how much you wish you could hold your nieces. 

As you think about it, you begin to cry. You’re not even sure why. It’s after a particularly unbecoming sniffle that Leon shifts his focus to you. You feel very embarrassed, trying in earnest to not let him see you cry.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping at your eyes with your wrinkled palms. “Sometimes I get lost in my brain, and it makes me cry,”

He shifts a bit closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. His fingers move in circular motions, and you can’t deny how much calmer it makes you feel.

“Talk to me,” he says, almost whispering. You look him in the eye then, and you see the sincerity in his gaze. “I want to listen,”

You sniffle again. “I thought it was easier to be mean to me,”

“I don’t want easy,” he says. You gnaw on your lower lip. “I’m sorry I said that,”

“I don’t want easy, either,” you say. He grins at you then, full and wide, and bright enough to blind you. You wonder if this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You wonder if he’s finally going to kiss you and get it over with.

“Can I be honest?” he asks. His voice is so soft, so calming, you wonder how you never noticed it before. You nod. “I thought, for a while at least, that if I was just rude enough to you, you would stop following me on missions. I thought that if you couldn’t stand to be around me, you wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t follow me into the jaws of death. Obviously, that didn’t work. That day that you stitched me up? It all hit me. I just…don’t know how to be the man you deserve yet,”

You smile, face warm and light, insides gooey and sticky. “I saw you as a challenge. I would continue to work with you out of spite,”

He rolls his eyes. “I know that now,”

“My turn for honesty,” you say, voice shaking a bit. “I was…in Raccoon City. When everything happened, I mean. I saw it first hand. It’s the reason I am where I am. I was training to be an EMT there, had some friends I’d been staying with. That’s why I get so…weird when I have to do my job. It’s why everything is so hard,”

He nods as he listens. “That must have been hard,” he says. You nod.

“It was devastating,” you say, breathless. “If I was shy before–which I was, mind you–I was a recluse after. It’s why I don’t go out, why I don’t like groups of people, why I have such a hard time being vulnerable,”

“I know what that’s like,” he says. You feel like your heart cracks open, beckoning him inside.

“You make me want to learn how,” you say, trying your hardest not to look away from him. “You make me want to learn how to be vulnerable, how to be open. I’ve told you things even Rebecca doesn’t know about me. I just…struggle with it sometimes,”

He’s silent as he watches you, and you worry that you’ve said the wrong thing. Maybe he just wants to be friends, have an extra shoulder around for when things get to be too much. Maybe you’ve read every situation, every interaction completely wrong. You don’t really know what you’re doing, after all. Maybe your naivety clouded your judgment.

It’s then that he does kiss you. It’s soft and pliant, warming you to your very core. Your hands shift to hold him better, fingers curling around the collar of his sweatshirt to pull him impossibly closer. You melt into him, letting him set little fires across every inch of skin he consumes. You want him to devour you whole. One of his hands finds the back of your head, tilting you ever so slightly to give him better access to you. You give it up without a second thought, a small gasp escaping you as your tongue meets his. In this moment, nothing else exists. The movie playing on the television is drowned out by your bliss, the deafening roar of blood in your ears settles to a beautiful hum. It feels like the crest of a wave splashing back down into the ocean, like a symphony crescendoing. You could die here, wrapped in his warmth and his kisses, and be happy.

When he pulls away, breathless and kiss swollen and reddened, you want to sink back into him. You find it cruel that he would pull away from you, leave you cold where you were so warm before.

“Keep being vulnerable with me,” he says, breath uneven and stuttering. “Please don’t ever stop,”

If he keeps looking at you like this and kissing you, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. You’re more than willing to be whatever he needs, reading to be molded like clay into his desires. You want it. You want him. Your heart flutters at the thought that he wants you too.

[nabinabipumpum]

CAN I BE THE FIRST? - 07 ᴹⁱⁿʲⁱ ˣ ᶠ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Pairing - Kim Minji X f!Reader

Genre - Fluff, angst🤏, written + smau

Warning - mention of mom and daddy issues, self-acceptance problems, mention of homophobic parents, Y/n doesn't know how to deal with feelings, a little swearing.

Synopsis - Y/n always tried to manage on her own, especially with the family she had, but after becoming a trainee she realized that not everyone hated her. After the debut she still tries to deal with her feelings, but everything becomes even more confusing after having to approach NewJeans for better coexistence in the company.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Minji smiled when she heard you whisper the same phrase that was said in the cartoon you were watching, it was no secret that you loved children's cartoons and she finds that adorable about you. The girl watched you, looking at every detail on your face, you were focused on the cartoon that you'd certainly watched dozens of times but you seemed to love it anyway, you looked ethereal in her eyes, with your hair falling lightly on your face, eyes shining and a slight space between your lips, probably due to the way you were concentrating. When the episode ended she quickly looked away from your face as soon as she noticed you turning to look at her.

“We should eat something.” You spoke quietly and she looked at you.

“What do you want to eat?”

"French fries." you look at each other for a few seconds, you smile slightly “Please?” She laughs and sits on the bed, you do the same.

“Shouldn’t we order something healthier?”

“I've been eating healthy all week, Unnie…” she felt her heart race as she saw his feline eyes shine at her.

“Okay, you win.” you smiled and took out your phone and opened the app to order the food as quickly as possible.

You smiled as you ate and looked at Minji, only to notice that she was already looking at you, your heart sped up and you felt that feeling again, your body heated up from the look, your ear felt like it was burning and you quickly dodged it, heading back the look at the fries in front of you.

It had been a while since you noticed this different way you felt around Minji, it wasn't the same feeling as being around your members, Yunjin or Danielle, much less being close to Haerin. Minji hit differently, you didn't know why, you obviously thought she was beautiful, all your friends are beautiful and you know that, so why was it different with Minji? You didn't want to admit that you felt something beyond friendship, you couldn't.

Your parents consumed your head, their voice runs through your mind whenever you even think about Minji, you didn't want to be persecuted even more by your family, you were afraid of what your parents might do when they knew you weren't straight and that gave you nightmares for years.

The best option for you is to deny it, deny it until it becomes true, until the moment you find a nice guy and fall in love, this was just a phase for you just like you always saw people in internet videos saying it was just a phase , it would pass and you just had to deal with this strange feeling for a while, until it went away.

“Is everything okay, Y/nnie?” you looked at her as your face heated up and you just nodded “You look sad.”

"Sleep." She agreed and looked back at the screen, which was now showing a Marvel movie, but you weren't paying attention anymore.

You guys finished the movie and cleaned the room before your members arrived, you were so close to Minji that your shoulders were almost touching, you looked at her for a moment, she was texting her members while you two were on the couch, you felt an unexpected urge to get closer. Your eyes locked on the girl, unable to move even when she looked back at you, that same contact that made your heart flutter, her round eyes locked on your entire face, she was admiring you again. Your lips parted slightly as your head unconsciously tilted to the side as your eyes dropped to the older girl's lips. No. You were grateful when her cell phone beeped with a new message.

“It's getting a little late, I should go.” you nodded and stood up, unable to look at her face again, she felt the same way too, you walked her to the door and opened it.

“Good night, Minji-unnie.” she smiled and finally looked at you, but you just looked at the floor.

“Good night, Y/nnie” you smiled at the affectionate way the phrase was said, nothing can explain how Minji felt when she saw your smile.

“I’ll see you in a few days?” You nodded and looked at her, again.

Your eyes locked onto each other, both your hearts racing, she wanted to kiss you, you couldn't kiss her, in fact you can, but your mind doesn't agree with your body. You noticed when Minji looked at your lips you discreetly bit her lower lip, you only noticed because you were already focused on her lips before. You lowered your head, denying yourself that you just wanted to drag the girl inside and stay in her arms until dawn, but you're terrible at this, you can't deceive your heart.

“Thank you, for killing the cockroach…” she smiled and sighed.

“It was nothing, that’s what friends are for.” you agreed, she hated saying that you two were friends “Bye Y/n.”

“Bye Unnie.” she smiled before walking away so you could close the door.

The next day you wake up after dreaming about Minji.

“What the fuck.”

Taglist 🏷️ (open): @gtfoiydlyj @cloudinwjns @yncoreee @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @ourlovesarang @saysirhc @yuyuy90 @he------len

[aspynnwoofs]

Um. hi. your fanart of Marcy waking up from a nightmare is probably my favorite piece of Amphibia fanart ever. curious what was going through your head when you made it. also what are your headcannons/thoughts about The Core, Marcy, what she experienced while under its control, and its lasting effects on her?

holy shit dude, thanks? i don’t know what i did to deserve all this nice stuff you’re saying, but thanks. also the tags on the reblog were not aggressive or mean or anything, they actually made me super happy to see! i’m really glad you like it.

coming back after writing all the stuff, there’s a lot so i’m putting a ‘keep reading’ thing. seriously there’s so much

what was going through my head… hm. it’s like, i imagine Marcy having lots of nightmares about things that happened to her, or things that could have happened, stuff like that. i’ve read a lot of fanfic so now i really like the idea of her clutching her shirt when remembering being impaled. or even just for comfort, to know that her weakest point is covered in moments of terror. also she’s crying. sobbing. the only times she recovers quickly after bad nightmares is when she’s with the others.

i really like the idea of the Core not only sticking her in a box in her mind, but also showing her things. like to keep her from trying to get out. can’t resist if your mind is shattered and devoid of hope! anyway i mean like using the illusions to show her various things, situations, people. more peaceful ones where she’s with her girls, only to realize they aren’t there. terrifying ones where they make her live through her worst memories, her betrayal (of her and by her), her death, her torture and possession. twisted situations where Anne and Sasha proclaim that they can’t be seen with her, they can’t trust her, even hate her for what she’s done. sometimes the Core sticks her in unending darkness so they don’t have to think of anything, or if they’re focused on something else and need her out of the way (this is where the thing about being unable to sleep or feel safe in complete darkness is from). sometimes they’ll make a fake scene where it seems as though she is being shown what her body is doing, she can see through her eyes, and then she hurts people. kills people. sometimes it will be real, but she doesn’t know that, and she will still hurt people. when whoever in the Core in charge of her is feeling particularly cruel, they’ll do a simulation of her being saved. rescued. freed. forgiven. she’s finally with her girls. but. she isn’t. she’s still here. of course they didn’t save her, why would they? she’s a horrible person, and she did so much unforgivable stuff? why would they ever want to save someone like her? (shit this is long, yeesh. well i’m having fun soo-) sometimes Anne and Sasha kill her as she’s possessed, because she needs out of the way, and her life doesn’t matter anyway. sometimes they free her and then take their fury at her out on her by hurting her.

recovery from that is incredibly hard. when she’s rescued, she doesn’t believe it. firmly denies it, hides from them, tries to keep them from hurting her, curls into a ball and refuses to acknowledge them. because they aren’t real, they aren’t. hasn’t she been through this enough? it takes the others a while to convince her she’s in reality, and that yes, they do really forgive her. she’s actually completely free.

later in life she has trouble discerning reality from her nightmares. she has insane trust issues. she can’t walk, not by herself. she’s terrified of fire, because fire is what impaled her, killed her, and fire is the color of the eyes that haunt her. a small zap of static electricity is enough to send her into a flashback of her possession, of the chair, of fire and lightning and code flowing into her, burning burning burning. once someone tried to calm her by grabbing her wrists, which only sent her further. the cuffs. they chained her down. she can’t move she can’t move! the color orange makes her nervous, if there’s too much of it she half convinced they’ve taken over somehow and tinted her vision the color of her nightmares. (looking at this you’d really think i’d be able to write something. i should write something) sudden complete darkness, such as someone turning off a light without warning, has her half believing whatever just happened wasn’t real, that the Core got bored and stuck her in the darkness. sound and small lights can help her come back to reality. sound because the Core wouldn’t let sound into their void, that would defeat the point! and small lights because if it all comes back quickly it just means the simulation has been turned back on. better to show her something small but concrete. Anne and Sasha have gotten really good at realizing when she needs a reality check, and then knowing her to ground her. (btw she doesn’t move away because i need her to have a support system. she might actually go crazy if she’s separated from her friends) ( whAT THE FUCk-?? this is so long! i need to wrap up! holy shiiiit) Marcy likes to hold their hands to help her remember where she is. physical touch is very grounding. the Core could never get it right so it’s even more so. after some nightmares she flinches from touch, so other things are needed, but once she’s returned from the hell in her mind she needs touch. sometimes weighted blankets help to ground her when she feels as though she might almost float away, sometimes they chain her down and trap her beneath the weight of all her mistakes.

there’s probably more, but if i kept going i’ll just have written a whole ass fic in an ask answer. hope you liked it! if not idk what i can give you (you’ll like it, because it’s great)

i don’t think i’ve ever written things out like things before, i should do that more. it helped to have specific questions, so thanks man i guess? heh.