#her other dad is inside somewhere trying not to freeze

[tinygryphon-58570]

Happy Fat Maren Friday! Remember to do the Crystalline Gala things!!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Welcome to the neighborhood

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Santa

Rated: T

Tags: No UD AU; Single Dad Steve; Single Dad Eddie; Steve is Dustin’s dad; Eddie is Max's dad; Neighbors; Christmas

Steve presses the doorbell for the third time, secretly wishing he'd put on his coat - or his outdoor shoes at least. Nobody has bothered removing the snow from the walkway leading up to the door, and it's seeping into his slippers and socks. 

“Maybe they aren't home,” Dustin says, voice slightly muffled from under his scarf. 

Steve scoffs, mentally cursing Carol for talking him into this. “I saw the car pull into the garage, they're here.” 

He's just trying to decide if he should rap his freezing knuckles against the milk glass pane or tell Carol to go fuck herself when the door swings open, revealing a girl around Dustin’s age. She's sporting a vicious scowl and a shock of violently orange hair. 

“Oh hi,” Steve says. “Are your parents home?” 

She gives them a long, pointed once over. Steve in his slippers and too-thin shirt and Dustin in his knitted Minecraft hat. 

Then, without turning, she hollers, “Dad! It's the hottie from across the street.” 

Somewhere in the house, somebody drops something. There's a barrage of swear words that makes Steve wanna cover Dustin’s ears, and then a whirlwind of black clothes and frizzy curls descends down the stairs and almost barrels into the stack of half unpacked boxes in the hallway. 

“Jesus Christ, Maxine! Sorry about that, I dunno what she's on about.” 

The girl rolls her eyes.

“You said it. Own it.” 

The man glares at her. She grins. 

“Hi,” Steve says again, bravely ignoring the heat rising under his collar. “Nice to meet you. I live-” 

“Across the street. She just said it,” Dustin provides helpfully. “Hi, I'm Dustin, this is my dad.” 

The girl gives him a lazy wave. “So, what do you do for fun around here, Dustin?” 

He shrugs. “I was about meet some friends, throw snowballs at cars. You wanna come?” 

“Ew, lame,” she says, grabbing her coat off another box. “Let's go.” 

Steve watches them disappear down the street, already deep in conversation about something or other.

“Well, then.” The other man extends his hand. It's adorned in clunky rings and covered in paint stains. “Do I get a proper introduction, or are we doing that thing where we refer to each other as Max's and Dustin’s Dad until it gets awkward, but by then we're too embarrassed to ask so we just skirt around it and say ‘hey, you’ for several years?” 

Steve is snorting a laugh before he remembers he's supposed to be mad. 

“Steve,” he says, taking the offered hand. It's pleasantly warm after the frosty air. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” 

“Steve,” the man repeats, and something about the way it rolls off his tongue makes a different kind of warmth settle in Steve’s chest. “Hi, I'm Eddie. What brings you here on this fine- oh shit, should I ask you to come inside? My kitchen is still very much a work in progress, but I got the coffee maker running yesterday, so I could fix us-” 

“It's fine,” Steve lies. He's starting to lose the feeling in his toes. “I just wanted to- … I'm here on behalf of the Home Owners’ Community.” 

Eddie tilts his head at him. “There's a Home Owners’ Community?” 

“Um, yes,” Steve says, raking a hand through snow-soaked hair. “Didn't you get our welcome pamphlet? It has this chees- … um, cheery picture on it. Happy family in their yard with their dog?” 

“Oh, that!” Eddie’s mouth goes round. “Yes, I got that. Threw it out. Looked culty to me.” 

Steve gawks at him. He smiles.

“Culty,” Steve repeats. He fucking told Carol the fucking photo was too much, but did she fucking listen to him? 

“Yup,” Eddie confirms cheerfully. “Why?” 

Steve laughs weakly. “Nothing, just- … I think that's pretty damn bold, coming from someone whose idea of a Christmas decoration is this!” 

Eddie follows his sweeping hand gesture to take in his own front lawn, like he's seeing it for the first time. The giant, inflatable Santa swaying cheerily in the snowy breeze. The grinning crowd of plastic skeletons dancing by its feet. Some have pitchforks. 

The whole spectacle is rounded off by a wooden sign, hand-painted in bright red letters. 

It reads HAIL SANTA. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You see, we didn’t get around to doing anything for Halloween this year, what with the move, and it's Max's favorite holiday, so-” 

“Yeah, great,” Steve says. “But the Homeowners’ Community has rules, and they clearly state that Christmas decorations must be-” 

Eddie pats his cheek. His hand is even warmer on Steve’s face than it was against his fingers. 

“But I'm not part of your little club, unfortunately.” His tone is all honest regret, but the quirk of his mouth and the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes tell a different story. “And I'm not gonna join, so there's nothing you can do to stop me. And if she has an issue with that, I suggest chairwoman Carol Hagan come over and say it to my face, instead of hiding behind your back. Not that I blame her. It's a nice back.” 

“But you said-” Steve sputters. “So you did read it!” 

“You should go home now,” Eddie says, not unkindly. “Don't wanna be seen getting friendly with the likes of me. Plus, you might lose a toe if you stay like that.” 

He nods down at Steve's soaked slippers - they may be unsalvageable by now - then starts to close the door in his face. 

“Wait,” Steve says. Eddie does, peering out from behind the door with large, hopeful eyes. “Does that offer for coffee still stand?” 

Eddie’s eyes light up. So do the led flames surrounding Santa's ghastly entourage. 

Carol can mind her own business, Steve decides. He'll get friendly with whoever the hell he pleases. 

More holiday drabbles

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 6

last || m.list

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.5k

chapter warnings: sex talk, smooching, swimming, dick insecurity

a/n: attempting to post this on my iPad was a mistake but I just couldn’t wait.

♪ washing machine heart by mitski

➷➷➷➷➷

You feel like you have a secret. The feeling of Marco’s lips burns on your own, so vibrant you wonder if people can see it on your face. If that’s not obvious, Marco holds your hand all the way back to the cabin that night. You part at the door with one last kiss, his palm resting warmly on the side of your neck. You don’t know if anyone sees. You don’t know if you care.

When you step inside the cabin, bodies scramble away from the window in a ruckus. Hitch dives for her bunk while Ymir and Historia flop onto the floor, as if they had already been lying there. Mikasa doesn’t move; she’s writing in a journal on the other side of the room.

Your face heats, but you try not to let it show. “Lurkers.”

Ymir and Historia explode into a fit of giggles while Hitch flings herself at you, squealing. “You did it!”

You’re quick to shush them. Even if it’s not a secret, you don’t want to embarrass Marco if the boys hear everyone screaming about him through the wall.

Hitch takes your cheeks in her hands, practically touching her nose to yours as she stares into your eyes. “Tell me everything.”

You’re somewhere between giddy and embarrassed, still trying to wrap your brain around it. “We just kissed, that’s all.”

Hitch claps her hands. “Details, details! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “Yeah.” You can’t even lie.

Historia squeals and slaps Ymir eagerly on the arm.

“Ok, ok, ok, chill. I’m excited too but oh my god,” you shush again.

“You are IN, baby!” says Hitch.

“We’ll see.”

“You WILL deflower him, or so help me god–”

“YMIR!”

But you hope she’s right. You really hope she’s right.

In an effort to keep your cool, you start digging around in your suitcase for pajamas. “So Hitch. Any updates on Erwin?”

She pouts. “No. I’m not getting anywhere with him.”

Mikasa shuts her journal. “Oh, Erwin? He’s dating Levi.”

Everyone freezes, staring at her. “...What?”

“Who the fuck is Levi?” Ymir demands.

“Levi,” Mikasa says, like it’s obvious. “The groundskeeper. The short one.”

He must be the one who found Zofia’s sunglasses. “I had no idea who he was.”

“Kenny is my dad’s cousin. Levi is his nephew,” she explains. “But yes. He’s also Erwin’s boyfriend. Don’t tell anyone about it though, Levi is super private.”

“He just appears out of nowhere sometimes. I was starting to think he was a ghost or something,” says Historia.

Hitch hops happily into her bunk. “Well. Good for them. And good to know I’m not losing my touch.”

-

Even though you really want to, you don’t kiss Marco again in the morning. You settle for a lingering brush of your hands when he brings you another cup of coffee at breakfast. There’s so much warmth in the way he looks at you, but something’s off. He’s jittery, more nervous than the night before.

Keeping your voice low, you lean over and ask, close to his ear, “You want to talk later?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, that would be good.”

You don’t want to scare him, and you’re not trying to rush, but, “Are you ok?”

Under the table, his hand skims your thigh before pulling back. “Yes. I just… Yeah. We should talk.”

“Ok. Meet me during free time?”

“For sure.”

You don’t think Marco would lie to you. Even though you do your best to take him at face value, you can’t help but worry something’s wrong. When you part for group activities, he brushes a few strands of hair from the back of your neck lightly with his fingertips, like he wants to touch you but he’s afraid. It’s reassuring, but a knot settles in your stomach as you lead your campers to music class.

In the lodge, where Nifa teaches her sessions, she carries around a box of small instruments and noisemakers: maracas, kazoos, sandpaper blocks to rub and clap together. No matter how many times you tell 20 kids to wait until they’re told to play, the temptation is too great. They can’t manage to be quiet while she gives directions.

Jean retrieves his acoustic guitar from the cabin to play along, and you tap on a mini tambourine while Nifa teaches some basic rhythms to fit the songs the kids already know. When the campers reach the limit of their ability to pay attention, Jean offers to take some song requests so everyone can have a little break.

The kids ask for a little bit of everything, from Queen to Post Malone. Zofia requests “the washing machine song” by Mitski, which she claims she heard about from her big sister. You help Jean lead a couple songs before handing the reins back over to Nifa.

To give your ears a rest, the two of you settle onto one of the couches in the corner. Jean strums absentmindedly on his guitar while you fold your legs under you and lean back against the arm of the couch. “Play Wonderwall,” you tease after a short pause.

He snorts but plucks the chord progression quietly anyway, maybe just to prove that (of course) he can. “You doin’ ok today?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“You’re wringing your hands a lot,” he shrugs. “Usually a sign that something’s bothering you. Just thought I’d ask.”

“How much do you know?”

Jean doesn’t look up from his guitar. “All of it, I think.”

If Marco told anyone what happened, you suspected it would have been Jean. “I’m fine, but it doesn’t seem like he is. Do you know if there’s anything I did–”

“He is absolutely crazy about you, first of all.” Jean doesn’t hesitate, his hands still moving over the guitar strings. “He’s nervous about being able to… please you. Since he doesn’t have much experience.”

“Please me?”

Jean lowers his voice to a mumble. “He’s scared he’s going to be bad at sex.”

“Oh my god. Did he ask you for tips?” You can’t help but tease. It’s an impulse.

Jean shushes you. “It was more like, he knows that you and I used to… so he came to me all freaked out that I was going to be mad if you two got together.”

“And you told him…?”

“That we’re just friends, obviously. And that he doesn’t need my blessing, or whatever.” Jean sighs. “I tried to tell him not to worry, but he won’t relax until he hears it from you.”

“I mean, of course I’m gonna tell him the same thing. Even if he doesn’t want to–”

Jean cuts you off again. “Oh, he wants to.”

Your heart rushes. The anticipation may actually kill you. “Thank you for talking to him. I hope it hasn’t been too awkward.”

Jean rolls his eyes, overdramatic. “How could I not be happy about two of my best friends dating each other.” It’s not a question. “Meanwhile, I’m just a perpetual third wheel.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Come on, it’s not like that.”

He mutes the guitar with his palm. “Last night, I caught Eren and Mikasa fucking in a canoe.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, muffling the strangled, dying animal sound that escapes anyway. “I knew it,” you whisper-scream. “I KNEW it!”

Jean stares at you, deadpan.

You tilt your head, pitying. “I’m sorry. I know you were really hoping–”

“It’s fine. She’s not into me. I’ll get over it. I accept that I’m having a celibate summer.”

“Maybe Pock and Reiner would let you–”

“What, watch?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“I’d rather third wheel Jaeger than witness Reiner finding himself, thanks.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Jean chokes on a laugh. “You’re right, what am I saying?”

-

The afternoon sun is sweltering, the air humid and sticky after a brief rain shower during lunch. It’s too hot to sit in the cabin, even with the fans on, but the air conditioning of the mess hall is far too public for the conversation you’re about to have. Instead, you and Marco claim a porch swing on the upper deck of the lodge, nestled in the far corner where nobody can sneak up on you.

Marco’s long legs reach the floor, and he uses them to rock the swing slowly back and forth. He reaches over for your hand, wrapping his own around it in your lap. You stroke the back of his knuckles while you talk, marveling at how comfortable it is to touch him. It’s like you’ve known him forever, even though it’s only been a couple weeks.

While you could just sit there with him for hours, you know you only have so much time. “I want to be abundantly clear,” you begin. “I really like you. I have for a while.”

Marco exhales. “Doesn’t it bother you that I’ve never dated anyone before? Or that I’ve never slept with anyone?”

“Not at all. I like every part of you, Marco.” You give his hand a squeeze, feeling a little bashful, but you know this is a conversation you need to have. “In fact, I kind of think it’s sort of hot.”

Marco laughs before he can stop himself. He turns to you, face reddening. “You’re serious?”

You nudge his side with your shoulder. “Yes. I mean, I would still like you even if that weren’t the case. But yeah. You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re hot.”

“Nobody has ever called me hot before.”

“Now that’s hard to believe. And I’ve thought about it a lot. And… things I want to do with you.”

“No way it’s as much as I’ve thought about you.” He plays with your hands, rubbing your thumb with his own.

You cuddle a little closer, your hip touching his. “But hey. I think it would be good for us to talk about it a little first.” Something occurs to you for the first time. “Was last night your first kiss?”

“No,” Marco chuckles. “There were a few girls in high school, not girlfriends, but I don’t know. Crushes, I guess. I made out with my senior prom date.” Marco glances over your head before he continues.

“She asked me to touch her boobs, so I did. But I basically stopped her when she started trying to unzip my pants. We were at an after-party, behind someone’s barn, and I was scared of getting caught.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” you agree. “Is that the farthest you’ve gone?”

Marco clears his throat. “There was this girl freshman year, Rico. We’d taken a lot of AP classes together, but then she went to a different college. She got in touch when she was in town visiting once, so we went out for dinner and then back to my dorm. We kissed a lot, and she got naked in my bed, but uh.”

You try to help. “But you didn’t go all the way?”

“Yeah.” He goes quiet, gently rocking the swing back and forth with his heels.

“Did something happen?”

He clears his throat again. “It’s embarrassing.”

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I won’t make you tell me, but if there’s something I can do to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen with us—”

“My dick scared her away.”

“You... What?”

Marco sighs. “I got hard, and she got me out of my pants, but when she saw my dick, she changed her mind.”

Your brain short circuits. What could possibly—

“Not anything like… She said it was too big. And I know how that sounds, but I felt like a freak. She just got dressed and left. I don’t blame her or anything. But yeah.”

You squeeze his hand. “That must have been really tough, I’m sorry. But you know, also, some people don’t mind that. Plenty of people like it, actually.”

“So I’ve been led to believe,” Marco chuckles awkwardly. “But the evidence to the contrary… it was hard for me to get over for a long time.”

“I get it. We all have our things. But thank you for telling me. For the record,” you click your tongue. “I am very much ok with that.”

Marco’s cheeks turn an even warmer shade of red.

“Would it make you feel better to know how many guys I’ve been with?”

“Yes,” Marco answers immediately. So he’s definitely been preoccupied.

“Four.” It doesn’t bother you to tell him. And it’s only fair, considering how open he was with you too. 

“The first was this guy, Eld, that I met at a frat party the first week of my freshman year. I was very much exploring all my newfound freedom then. We hooked up a couple times, but it just kind of fizzled out after that.”

“Then there was this guy I worked with at the library. We dated for a while, but the breakup was bad.” You can chuckle about it now, looking back, but, “I had to transfer my work-study to the admissions department to get away from him.”

“Sorry. You’re ok?” Marco asks.

“Yep, it’s fine. Haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“That’s good,” Marco agrees. “And you and Jean?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, last summer. But you know we’re just friends now, right?”

Marco sweeps his thumb back and forth across your hand. “Yeah.”

Before he can get too in his head about it, you continue. “And I’ve never told anyone this. But the fourth guy was Moblit.”

Marco’s jaw drops before he can catch it. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Don’t tell, especially not Hitch, or else everyone will know within minutes,” you laugh. “He doesn’t want people bugging him about it, and I can’t blame him. But yeah, we used to hook up in the chapel.” Secluded in the woods, the chapel is off one of the hiking trails and apparently used by some church camps here during the year. Somehow, nobody ever found out, but you want Marco to know everything.

You tell him how despite his general demeanor, you’d made quick friends with Moblit last summer, and inevitably, the two of you became closer and closer until the tension burst. You could match his sarcasm, and he started giving you rides in the staff golf cart whenever you crossed paths. Those turned into little joyrides late at night, when the campers were asleep and you weaseled out of card games or ghost stories with your friends.

The night you ended up at the chapel, you sat together for hours by torchlight just talking. Things got a little deep—he was hung up on Hange, who was either too oblivious to notice or knew everything and just wanted to make him squirm. Meanwhile, you were becoming aware that Jean was much more in love with you than you were with him. After baring your hearts to one another, it was easy to let him pull you into his lap and get some frustration out of your systems.

Moblit made it very clear: you were just friends with some very satisfying physical benefits, and you were fine with that. There was perhaps a second in time where you thought it was a shame—he was the best you’d ever had, every time—but it was also clear that the two of you weren’t truly compatible. You couldn’t date him; you liked picking on him too much.

For a few seconds, Marco is quiet. Just as you start to worry, a smirk pulls at his lips. “Ok, now that’s pretty hot. And impressively mature. But the secret is safe with me.”

“Good, it better be. Or else Mobs would kill me and you’d never find my body.”

“Understood. Speaking of, I saw Hitch heading down the trail with Zeke today. Do you think—?”

“Yes. I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” Erwin is taken, and she’s found her next mark.

Marco’s brows arch. “You don’t say?”

You give him a nudge. “Ok, Gossip Girl. I thought we were here to talk about us.”

“You’re right, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You curl your hand into his shirt, wanting to be as close to him as you practically can be. Though you feel you’ve pretty much covered everything, you still have to ask, “So if you’re feeling a little better, and you want to find some time together, I also want… that. You.”

Marco inhales so hard, he coughs. “Um. Yeah. I do. But I know we should be kind of strategic about where and when. And I’m not going to lie, I’m really nervous. I might need you to… teach me.”

Your stomach flutters. “I don’t think you understand how hot that is,” you whisper.

“I really don’t. But I guess if it’s working…” Marco lets go of your hand to rub the back of his neck.

You press a kiss to his burning cheek. “Maybe tomorrow. Just give me a little time to arrange some stuff.” You have an idea, and someone claiming to be your wingwoman who better be ready to make good on her word.

Some kids race by on the lower deck, their feet pounding the old wooden boards. Gabi chases Falco out to the tetherball court, shouting after him about how she’s going to win every match.

You clear your throat. “One more thing. You did buy the condoms, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, good,” you sigh. “I really didn’t want to go ask Bert for some.”

Marco sputters a laugh. “I think that would honestly be worse for him that it would be for you.”

You double over into Marco’s lap, both of you giggling, happy, clinging to each other, not wanting to let go.

-

There‘s a nearly full moon hanging in the sky, and the air is balmy and warm, even for after sunset. On top of that, the Galliards have been talked into sticking around for the night. Everything quickly falls into place for a night swim—the first of the season.

After the evening campfire, all the campers are sent to bed, and the rest of you rush back to your cabins to change. Towels in hand, you all tromp down to the lake to splash under the stars.

Marcel leads the way. “Listen, I know you’re not kids, but don’t go in far enough that the water is over your heads. There’s not enough light down here, and you have to be careful.”

Ymir gives a salute. “Got it, dad.”

“Could you not?”

And they’re bickering again.

As you near the shore, you just barely notice some silhouettes in the water. Two people, you think, too big to be campers, one particularly tall. Miche and Zeke are with you, which leaves—

You gasp and grab Hitch by the wrist. “Look.” She slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking.

Against his word, Erwin is in the lake up to his waist, where Levi is wrapped around him, arms thrown over his shoulders as they wade together. 

Miche whistles, and they snap apart, both darting for shore on the far side of the dock.

You smack his arm with the back of your hand. “Why are you the way that you are?” 

He blows air through his lips. “Psh. They’re fine. And trust me, they’re not good at keeping their own secret anyway. Just the other day I went out to the shed for a broom, and they were—“

“Spare me,” Zeke says before letting his palm fall to the small of Hitch’s back.

Miche gives him a glare that makes you wonder why it’s warranted.

As soon as your toes dip into the lake, you can understand what drew Levi and Erwin here for some alone time. The water seems to sparkle, the way it reflects the stars out here, the sky ironically bright in the relative darkness of the mountainside. Even with chatter and splashing all around you, it’s easy to feel alone but peaceful.

A light wind blows ripples across the water, but mostly, it’s all still. You glance behind you—Mikasa sits with Eren at the shoreline, only their legs in the water. Zeke carries Hitch on his back, her feet kicking in delight. Reiner and Porco see who can hold a handstand the longest before playing with each other’s hands while Ymir and Historia assume basically the same position Erwin and Levi had been in.

Now that you think about it, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Marco was never more than a breath away. You’ve walked out about as far as you could go with your neck still above water, while he’s only chest deep. He bends a bit at the knees, reaching for you. You paste yourself to his side, wrapping your legs around the notch in his hip where you fit perfectly. Subtly, he brushes a kiss behind your ear. Once again, if anyone is watching, you don’t really care.

Your body aches for him, but you’ll have to wait just a little longer. For tonight, though, this is enough. In fact, it’s perfect.

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last || m.list

[brookie-writes]

my own little wonderland

It all started with a dream, the dream of a reality in which my life wasn't a mess. In that world, everyone liked me, and for once in my life, it felt good to be alive.

So my only thought the whole day was to go back to this dream as fast as possible. And I did !

I was able to continue developing this utopia. I realised I could shape it the way I wanted to because it was all in my head. So I started going to this reality at night, when no one was there to watch, and then sometimes when I was bored.It was slow, but it felt good. It felt good to be cared for, to be loved by others.

Slowly, I started to enjoy my life there much more than my "real" life... m

My friends, I grew distant from them, but they assumed I needed space, so they unconsciously let me fall deeper in that world.

My mom noticed as well, but she did not know what to do, after all everyone grieves in their own way, but as time passed, she grew worried that my state wasn't getting any better, quite the opposite. She did the only thing she knew could help me, and she brought me to a therapist. I did not want to go, so I stayed in my desired reality, locking myself in there. I was in a trance. No one could wake me up, no one but myself.I would just...lose myself, I suppose, but it felt good.

In this world, I didn't hold any pain. In that world, my dad was still with us. No one was lecturing me about my bad grades because I didn't have any.

I could shape this world exactly how I wanted it to be, and I would continue to do it until the end.

This world, my own little Wonderland, became my safe place.

I stayed there while the therapist was trying to wake me up, my mom crying next to her. They couldn't find me they couldn't reach me, no one could. After a while, I came back. The both of them were watching me with their eyes wide open.

The therapist, her name was Sophia, I think, asked me if I was comfortable with her asking me questions, and I agreed. I suppose I knew it was best for me, very deep inside though, even I didn't want to admit it.

She started questioning me, trying to discover my world, and for the first time in months, I felt listened to, I felt cared for, somewhere else than in my little Wonderland.

I started opening up slowly, answering to the best of my ability, giving details, and talking about the people inside this world and the way they act. It was going all too well, until she mentioned him, my father. Her question was innocent, trying to understand what caused me to create this dimension in my head, but it made me freeze.

The memories were coming back, the cries, the pain. I remembered his face, his voice, and tears started rolling down my cheeks.

No, no, NO, I can't be thinking about this, I can't be thinking about him, not right now, I'm not ready...

I was already preparing to go back to my world when Sophia said, "What about your mother? What will she become. She's in pain as well. She's grieving too."

I looked at her, tears still staining my eyes, as I pronounced my answer. "She is happy in my Wonderland, and I'll make sure she stays happy there. I will save her, I will save us. I can build this world however I want, I will do it, for the both of us".

And with that, I left.

[asherloki]

The Dating game

Stephen strange x reader

Long request from @anadlockfan

Fluff warning perhaps!

It was a serene morning for y/n. As she sat by the window with a cup of coffee in her hand. Light breeze making her swing with it's rhythm a bit.

*Beep*

There's was a WhatsApp Messege in her phone and she picked it up to find a message from her mother , "coming to meet you darling". This made y/n freeze for a second or two. She doesn't mind her parents coming to the city but it is different now, they're coming to talk of her marriage. It's been the topic of conversation between them for a long time now. And the problem was she lied, yes when she got irritated she straight up said, "I have a Boyfriend and it's pretty serious". Now it was a big lie to cover up. The coffee cup grew cold as she paced through the floor, trying to think of a solution. Trying to call friends for advice, she took her phone again and the recent dialled number was of Stephen's. Stephen? Yes Stephen! It struck her, her friend Stephen strange could help. Stephen is her friend since she moved to bleeker street, the only thing was she actually fancies him. But for now she needs a fake boyfriend, and he's perfect. She called him hoping he agrees,

"Hello, morning y/n". He replied from the other end.

"Oh Stephen, I need help". Y/n answered.

"Oh is everything alright?"

"Yes, I'm coming okay, I need to say it face to face".

"Yeah but listen...."

She hung up on him, desparate to solve the problem. On the other hand Stephen stood staring at his phone, holding his cup of morning coffee. wong brought him back to reality from his daydream,

"You dropped coffee on you?" He asked.

"What? Ah yes, just tried to recieve the call".

"Y/n?"

"Yes".

"You always get nervous around her, you even dropped coffee on you."

"No it's for the rush".

"Rush to pick her call." Wong argued.

"It's nothing like that".

"Whatever.." he shook his head and went on.

After 15 minutes y/n arrived at Stephen's doorstep, he opened the door and welcomed her inside with a smile,

"I need to talk" y/n said , and his mind wondered around for clue, what does she need to talk?

"Anything important? You okay?" He tried to play it cool but the sweaty palm of his knew it all.

"Oh I'm fine, don't worry" she shrugged it and then stood with a serious look.

"Want water?" Stephen said raising a glass of water.

"Did you just brought it by magic?"

"Yes I did"

"Oh, sorcerer for a reason, anyway I don't want it."

"Then can I have it?" Ofcourse he needed to calm his nerves down, Stephen never admitted he's always had a crush on y/n. Always. So he started sipping that water, whereas y/n took a deep breath and finally spoke,

"Stephen, I want you to be my fiance."

Stephen choked on his water, he coughed and water spray out of his mouth, he almost choked but he was saved, physically, in his mind he was still dizzy, trying process what he heard.

"Stephen? You're okay?"

"I.." coughs "fine" takes deep breaths "wh-what did you just say?"

"I know, it's a weird request but please?"

She explained him everything, and all he got is that her parents thinks she has a serious boyfriend which she wants him to pretend to be.

"Oh" he replied.

"So? Deal? I just need this one day from you Stephen."

He stared at her pleading with puppy eyes. A day with y/n? A dream for the sorcerer.

"O-okay". He agrees.

"Really?" She asked excited "thank you so much ". And with this he hugged him. Stephen was already in a messed up state and that hug made it Messier.

Then he got infront of his mirror to get ready and so was she, ready for the big day and mean while her parents arrived.

"Hey my dear" said her mother and embraces her, "oh nice to see you after a long time".

"Yes mum you too".

"You doing well, are you eating properly?" She He asked worriedly.

"Yes I am, oh hey dad" y/n went to her father who stood behind her mother and gave him a hug,

"How are you my princess?" He asked.

"I'm good dad."

"Wait you're all dressed up are you going somewhere?" Her mother asked.

"Oh, yes..um with ... You know.. m-my..."

"Your boyfriend?" Her father asked in a little serious tone.

"Yes, him" and then her phone rang which meant he's here, "oh he's here, you guys sit and I'll be back in a few hours."

As she waved them and was about to step out her mum thought of asking, "darling? Could you ask your boyfriend come over too, after your date?"

Now why's she making it more difficult for her? Thought y/n. Perhaps it was difficult even more for Stephen to act cool, he's always nervous around y/n, and now her parents?

"I'll ask him". Y/n assured, and stepped out.

"Make sure he agrees" her mother called from outside. Where her dad was on the window watching Stephen standing infront her house and then y/n joining her.

"Spying on your daughter?" Y/n's mum asked her dad, joining him to the window.

"In a way yes, what do you think of this guy?" Enquired her father.

"Looks dishy, she always had a thing for good looking men."

"Isn't a little older? They don't look same age do they?"

"She also has a thing for older men." Replied her mother.

And finally y/n and Stephen started walking together,

"Thanks for doing this for me" she thanked him, yet she needed ask him another big favour.

"Welcome, and don't thank me for it, I am happy I could help." And he tried to keep his sweaty palms behind his.

"Let us hold hands, we need to make it look real." Saying this she took his hand and Stephen's heart gave a tug, ofcourse he knew she might get a hint he's actually nervous around her. Whereas y/n knew Stephen was older has bigger responsibilities so this one chance, she wanted to fullfill her little desire to walk hand in hand with him like a couple.

"My my Stephen, your palms are sweating." She remarked.

"Yes I'm sorry you don't have to hold if..."

"It's okay " saying so she took his palm and held it. Stephen gulped visibly, his nervousness was doubled and also lessened with her touch.

"So it's almost lunchtime" y/n said to make the awkward silence disappear.

"Oh uh" he looked at his phone and replied, "yes it is, are you hungry?"

"I am, couldn't have a proper meal today for all this sudden arrival of my parents."

"Okay, then let's go there, we can have our lunch and..." Stephen stopped not knowing what to do next.

"Then I need another favor" interrupted y/n.

"Another?" Asked Stephen in surprise.

"Yes, I'll tell you everything but lunch first please, I'm starving."

And they went inside to the Italian restaurant and ordered their lunch.

"So you were talking of another favor?" Stephen said before taking a spoon full of his meal.

"Yes, you'll have to meet my parents".

Choked, almost, again, poor Stephen.

"You okay? Why does this keeps happening to you, take it". Said y/n offering his glass of water.

He drank and swallowed his food and then took a few deep breaths before stating, "why do you keep asking weird favours?"

It sounded harsh but he didn't mean it to be,

"Well I'm sorry, I thought we were friends." Said y/n.

"Ofcourse we are but... I..." He didn't know what to say.

"I understand Stephen, but please for me, this one time." Her hand reached his, gave him a little squeeze. Stephen felt his heart on his hand. For once? He could be her fake boyfriend a hundred times, it's just he's nervous.

After finishing their lunch Stephen offered to pay for it but y/n insisted on paying for her own meal and him for his meal. Now was the time for the final round of the dating game.

The walked hand in hand to her house and he froze when he reached there,

"Come on Stephen why are you nervous?" She asked leading him inside.

"What if they don't approve of me?" His real concern came out.

"Pft, as if we're really dating, why do we care?" y/n said, which made Stephen realise the reality, again, "even though I hope they do" she continued in rather softer tone. Stephen wondered what is she implying to say,

"W-why?"

"Because you're a nice guy, a good friend, and everyone should love you... I mean like you".

*Awkward y/n*

They entered and her parents welcomed both of them, Stephen stumbled at doorstep while entering, apparently he was never this nervous, not even while fighting Thanos. He sat on the couch and answered everything her parents asked. Looking down. As if he really needed their approval.

"So Dr strange, it was nice knowing you." Said her father pating his back.

"Same here sir" he grew a little comfortable with them, and made eye contact this time.

"Oh don't call me sir".

"Okay, Mr y/l/n."

"Are you two really serious?" Asked her mother. This time they both looked at eachother, unspoken words, hidden feelings, all were clear the way they looked at eachother. Without thinking Stephen nodded, "yes, I am... We are".

Y/n still stared and her parents looked at her for an answer,

"I...yes" she uttered.

"Y/n?" He called out, "I love you" he said, finally infront of her parents. They were stunned yet happy and for y/n? Well same, her smile said it all, "I love you too Stephen." Was her reply.

[red-dye40]

iunno if you're still doing the directors cut thing but -> 💫

yes! always until the end of time because i love to talk!

here’s some commentary for ancaux chapter 9:

“You can get started on his limbs. I recommend below the joints for first-timers; it won’t be as clean but it’ll be easier, and you can take breaks between the ulna and the radius–” he points, with the tip of the machete, to the forearms, “–and the tibia and fibula–” he points, next, to the calves, “–if it gets too tough.”

i do think that, as an active homicidal maniac, nny had his own stupid names for bones, since i don’t imagine he was ever a serial killer who like studied the human form??? i think he just kinda learned as he went along and never opened a book on anatomy in his life. because the body is disgusting to him. HOWEVER i have this idea that, in this au where he gets help and treatment, he still obviously has his natural curiosity and lust for killin, and so sometimes he’ll like check out a bunch of anatomy and biology books from the library to quell his ~urges~, and maybe a more sterile and clinical approach will make him less inclined to act on anything. nerd.

Without a head, with his limbs all twisted to fit more securely in the fridge, with his bizarrely expensive but otherwise unimpressive clothes soaked in dried blood, he doesn’t look much like a person anymore. He looks kind of pathetic, definitely more than a little silly.

i spent my late teens / early 20s exclusively around art students because my sister was a fine arts major and i didn’t go to college so i had no friends otherwise :) her like closest friends were this group of extremely rich kids posing as poor kids and it was so bizarre to experience. they only dressed in ratty clothes but upon further investigation they were actually like one-of-one designer pieces that cost hundreds of dollars and crazy shit like that, and they only ate cigarettes and shitty shitty beer. i went to a party at one of their apartments once and it was inside this like seemingly derelict warehouse, but when we got in it turned out the whole place had been gut-renovated, and he lived in a lofted penthouse with roof access, and everyone there was like smoking weed and giving each other the shittiest tattoos ive ever seen, and i found out his dad paid for his rent and the nelson mandela tattoo thing i mention in later chapters? is based on a Real Thing i saw with my eyes at this party.

“Rigor mortis only lasts like a day.” He plops another finger chunk in a trashbag. “After that, they get all gooshy again.” “I didn’t know that.” “We actually got in at the perfect time!” Johnny continues gratefully. “The window between rigor mortis and true decomposition is small, if nonexistent. Both are extremely unpleasant in their own ways, obviously, but I personally detest the smell of putrefaction. And house flies are annoying.” He wipes a gory gloved hand across the front of his poncho. “So this is really ideal.”

HYPERFIXATION!!!!!! SPECIAL INTEREST IS DEATH AND DECAY!

“The little junkyard doggies love this stuff.” He shakes the contractor bag–its contents make vile, macaroni and cheese-type squishing sounds. “I toss them out my window when I drive by, and they maul each other to try and get to ‘em. It’s so cute.”

i love the little glimpses of weird things nny finds cute that we get in jthm and on the johnny c twitter. i want more of that.

“Does your trunk open with the key, or is there one of those secret buttons somewhere in the front I have to press?” “Oh, the trunk doesn’t open.” Devi freezes in the doorway. She digs her nails into the frame. Slowly, in her comedically loud poncho, she turns to look Nny in his dumb face. “...the trunk doesn’t open… at all?”“Nooooooo, I made a bunch of oobleck for the neighbor kid–I was going to teach him a valuable lesson about the dangers of quicksand and quicksand-adjacent colloids–but then I forgot about it in my trunk during a week-long heat wave and it all kind of exploded.” “And so the trunk doesn’t open.” “Nope.” Johnny finally understands the problem. “Oh damn.” “Yeah, Nny.” Devi grits her teeth. “Yeah, ‘oh damn.’”

SQUEE MENTION 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i think this is one of my fav exchanges in the whole fic. i love for nny to be a huge idiot. i love devi to want to kill him for being a huge idiot.

“If I let you drive, you’re gonna play some fuckin’ irritating classical music you downloaded from LimeWire, and you’re gonna stop at every Cum-N-Go for some cherry flavored swill, and then you’re gonna need to go pee-pees every twenty minutes, and I really really REALLY don’t have the patience for any of that right now, Jonathan.”

this is funny because johnny’s name is most certainly not jonathan. devi knows this.

“If I recall correctly, you slaughtered an entire movie theater’s worth of people when The Fifth Element didn’t meet your IMPOSSIBLY HIGH EXPECTATIONS?? YES?” “IT HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL!” “GARY OLDMAN LOOKED LIKE A PERVERTED BUSINESSMAN WHO GOT BORED HALFWAY THROUGH PUTTING ON A MARILYN MANSON COSTUME AND THAT WAS ON THE POSTER–YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHAT YOU WERE GETTING YOURSELF INTO!”

this is a little reference to jv’s diary kept during the 1997 roadkill!! tour, in which they see the fifth element and he’s simply underwhelmed. i love the idea of nny getting his hopes up so high for movies and then going completely insane when they’re just whatever. for the record i love the fifth element.

As the car lurches from the inertia of the stop, the twine around the roof of the car groans, and then snaps completely, and with a loud thump the body slides out of the tarp and onto the hood, and its pallid bare ass is pressed up against the windshield. Devi reaches for the gear shift, taps the wipers on the way, and now the ass is doing a weird sexy dance for the two of them as the blades push it back and forth. They’re still screaming. Devi finally shifts it into reverse and turns over the seat to back up–Nny can’t look away from the ass. She floors it. The body goes flying, all rubbery and floppy and veiny and sexy, and the car keeps backing up until it eventually collides with the ceramic squirrel riding a tractor.

i had the idea of nny and devi having to dump the body really early on in writing. LOVE the trope of ppl needing to get rid of a body in a funny way. i didn’t have a plan, i just liked the insurance policy thing, like of nny being really concerned about obeying traffic laws and not wanting to get any demerits (idk i don’t drive) and devi being like “what the fuck you’re literally a mass murderer” and i REALLY wanted all this to feel stupid and not like. idk a bummer in any way. i definitely took a lot of inspo from the scene in search party season 2 (SPOILERS), where they go to the store to find a suitcase for a body and a guy convinces them to buy a really gaudy zebra print one. just weird absurdity stupidity etc.

thank u for the ask sorry this took SO LONG ily PLATONIC!!!!!

[iheart-nana]

vi. coincidences? or were they?

☾⋆��𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

CHAPTER SIX ─ coincidences? or were they?

❛ you can hear it in the silence, you can hear it on the way home ❜

Choi Eunyoung's Perspective

Upon seeing the Galbi restaurant near my house, I hurried inside, Sunjae following closely behind. We were still laughing, amazed by the peculiarity of the situation and the fact that we had just run through the pouring rain like madmen. Looking up at his face, my laughter became louder seeing his contagious smile. I suddenly became wary of my left hand, which still held onto Sunjae's. I think he noticed me staring, and let go, his eyes blinking rapidly. Even though we had stopped laughing, a smile remained on our faces, like a reminder of what just happened.

"Has anyone ever told you you're crazy?" Sunjae asked, chuckling again.

"No," I said, the laughs resurfacing, "Congratulations on being the first one."

A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. As it deepened, a single dimple winked into existence on the right side of his cheek. He's so adorable, I thought to myself.

Sunjae began looking around, presumably trying to figure out where I had taken him.

"Sorry for dragging you here," I apologized, "My house is just around the corner, that's why I came here instinctively. If you want─" He cut me off, "Wait, you live next to this place?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, "Have you been here before?" He chuckled again.

"This is my dad's restaurant," he began. As he was about to continue, a voice sounded from somewhere inside the restaurant, diverting our attention.

"Sunjae! Is that you?"

"That's my dad," Sunjae told me.

 A strangled sound, something between a scoff and a disbelieving laugh escaped my lips.

Sunjae's dad came into sight, his face lighting up on seeing his son, "Oh, my dear Sunjae! You're back─ and you're completely drenched!" He observed his son, then turned to look at me, "And who might you be?" He asked with a smile.

"Hello, my name is Choi Eunyoung. I conducted the swimming team's interview today," I informed with politeness, "I met Sunjae on the bus, ran through the rain and ended up here. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, I see. It's nice to meet you too," the smile never left his face, "My, my, Sunjae, you brought such a pretty friend. The two of you sit down, I'll find some towels."

"Oh, thank you, sir," I answered shyly as he ran off. I noticed the look of embarrassment on Sunjae's face as if he wanted to dig a hole and bury his head in it. "I'm sorry─"

"Don't be," I interrupted, "Your dad is nice."

"Yeah sure," he said, the sarcasm evident in his voice.

Sunjae's dad returned and handed us the towels. "You kids look like you're freezing! Eunyoung, why don't you have some warm soup and wait here until the rain stops?"

"Thank you for the offer," I bowed, offering a smile, "I live next door, so it's okay. I can manage."

"Oh, that's great," his voice was laced with excitement, "Don't let me hold you back, but you must come back! If you're Sunjae's friend I should make something tasty for the two of you!"

My lips stretched into a smile as I said, "You're far too kind, sir. I'll be back soon," I said definitively. Turning to Sunjae I said, "I should get going, then."

"Wait a second," he said, rushing to the entrance of the restaurant, bringing back a blue umbrella with him, "Take this with you. Don't catch a cold." His worry melted my heart, which must have shown on my face as I smiled from ear to ear.

"Thanks," I said to him, warmth creeping up on my face, a new inexplicable feeling blooming in my heart, "See you around!"

He repeated the same words as we waved each other goodbye. 

On seeing my mother walking out of her nail salon, which was right below our home, I called out to her "Mom!"

"Eunyoung?!" she replied, looking at my state in disbelief, "It looks like you took a shower! Whose umbrella is that?"

"Turns out a guy from the swim team lives next door. His dad owns that Galbi restaurant," I explained, "It's fascinating, right?!"

"Go and dry up first!" she yelled, concern and love concealed behind her sternness.

"Yes, mummy!"

💿

Narrator's Perspective

"Damn, that's some day we've had, huh?" Eunyoung sighed, hearing Yumi's recap of the incident at the music club.

"But you know the weird thing is," Yumi suddenly added, "When I mentioned Eclipse in front of Inhyuk and the other fellow, the whole world went still as if time had stopped."

"Huh," Eunyoung muttered, "That's strange, now that you mention it."

"Inhyuk becomes a part of a group called Eclipse," just as Yumi tested out her theory, everything went still except her and Eunyoung. The pattering of rain outside had come to a sudden halt and the sound of their mom washing the dishes went quiet momentarily.

"This means we can't tell anyone about what happens in the future," Eunyoung concluded.

💿

A loud crashing sound from outside jerked Eunyoung awake, her face crinkling up into a frown immediately. Lifting her head, which had been resting on her folded arms, she realized she had fallen asleep on her desk the previous night while she worked on the draft of her article. Papers were scattered everywhere, crumbled ones in the bin, some lay stacked under the weight of her MP3 player and others that had flown away lay abandoned on her bedroom floor. She squinted at her alarm clock, rightly named as she jolted out of her seat and ran to the bathroom, alarmed at her tardiness. 

 Hastily, rushing to brush her teeth, she barely put on her uniform, combing her hair in a frenzy and bolting out the door the moment she was ready. She had the urge to yell at her mom for not waking her mom but decided against it as she couldn't afford to miss the last bus.

With a burst of desperate energy, she broke into a run for the bus station. Aided by her long legs, she moved swiftly, occasionally gasping for air as the school bag on her back weighed her down. Soon, she rounded a corner and allowed herself to slow down on seeing the bus station come into view, with a couple of tardy students such as herself waiting for the bus. 

Eunyoung stumbled to a halt, dashing into the tall boy clad in the Jagam High uniform standing before her. She staggered, going a couple of steps back, mumbling an apology, "I'm so─" Her voice failed her as the boy turned around, revealing Sunjae's face with raised eyebrows which rested on seeing her.

"Be careful," he told her with a smile, then teased, "You might hurt yourself if you run like that. I could hear your footsteps thumping on the pavement."

Eunyoung replied with a bright yet embarrassed chuckle. "What are you doing here anyway? Don't all athletes have to reach early?"

"We don't have training since the competition is in a few days," he explained, "Why did you run like that, though?"

"I didn't want to miss the last bus," uttered Eunyoung, "My sister left without me for god knows what reason."

"You have a sister?" observed Sunjae.

"Yeah, we're not related by blood but my mom adopted her when we were 7," Eunyoung replied, "And we've been inseparable ever since."

With a groan that vibrated through the pavement, the lumbering bus finally heaved to a stop. Getting into the queue of students, they hopped onto the bus, sitting next to each other without a second thought as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

If they were together, they might as well sit beside each other, right?

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

nayoung's notes: i love how both eunyoung and sunjae are down bad for each other. at this point i'm living vicariously through her. hope you liked the chapter!

delphi's notes: sunjae's dad is single-handedly making his son's life harder with every sentence he speaks ajakvsk i can't-

next chapter: friday! (out now) list of chapters here!

[mapsareforbraindeads]

Okay okay sooooo!!! For the OC asks

Hikari - 3, 14, 17

Nene - 1, 19, 22

Tsuyomi - 2, 4, 6

omg. hello. your wish is my command

nene

1 — what memory would (nene) rather just forget?

post-canon? the kira case. duh

however, for before the case, there was a conversation she had with hikari that basically put them on their respective paths. and the more time passes, the more she wishes she hadn’t said anything at all. you can guess what that means.

19 — how does (nene) behave when enraged?

so nene doesn’t get mad easily, but when she does, she’s dead silent. she’s the kind of person who deeply enjoys running her mouth, so enough strong emotions leave her speechless. also there’s no way in hell she knows how to manage those emotions. her parents are lawmane ffs 😭

22 —what character alignment would you consider (nene) to be?

i’d say neutral good. she’s not the best person but she tries to act in ways that benefit people in her own unorthodox ways. the only reason she’s neutral instead of chaotic is that she does still have a moral code. it’s just much looser. she doesn’t think it’s right to break rules or anything but she just likes expanding on them. like yeah don’t kill people just ruin their life in other ways.

hikari

3 — what is hikari’s fatal flaw? is (he) aware of this flaw?

oh this one’s easy. his desire to be the best. it’s literally the only thing he’s ever wanted. he wants to be enough to be praised by his family. he wants to be enough to beat nene. and once he reunites with light, he just wants to make him proud. no matter how much it hurts.

the worst part is that he thinks this is what makes him valuable. he believes that if he’s not chosen as the best, he’s not worth anyone’s time and will rot at the bottom of society. he thinks his drive is enough to put him above the rest: that he can’t fail because he’s trying so so hard. this is why he’s alive. and from the outside, it just hurts to watch.

14 — how does (hikari) want to be seen by other characters?

i said above that he wants to be the best, but there’s a lot more to that. he wants to be a perfect son, because he’s sick of being told everything he does is sufficient. he wants to be the top student, because if he doesn’t do that, no one takes him seriously.

he basically wants to be seen like how light was. but he’s not effortless at it like nene. and that fact kills him inside. he just wants to be perfect for everyone. he wants to be admired.

17 — what’s the worst thing you have put (hikari) through storywise?

i mean. spoilers. but he does almost die at multiple points. no details

tsuyomi

2 — what’s something about (tsuyomi) that people wouldn’t expect just from looking at (her)?

tsuyomi is someone taken at face value. she’s matsuda’s kid, so that’s to be expected.

as i mentioned a while back, her mom died when she was young, so she had to grow up quickly to help her dad around the house. she has this kind of mother bear instinct that people won’t expect from a silly goofy goober. she can handle herself, and if anyone touches someone or something she cares about, they better run.

4 — when scared, does (tsuyomi) fight, flee, freeze, or fawn?

something between freeze and fight. if she’s alone, she’ll freeze. because she’s terrified of what awaits after death. obviously in death note, there’s no afterlife, but she doesn’t know that. the idea of being trapped somewhere for eternity, maybe even hell, scares her.

with people, ESPECIALLY nene, she will fight. she forces them behind her while she either yells or straight up takes something on to give her loved ones time to flee. it’s not always the best idea, but she takes self defense classes (nene does too but tsuyomi would never let her get attacked). this has no bearing on the plot whatsoever what are you talking about

6 — how easily could (tsuyomi) be convinced to do something that goes against (her) moral compass?

she has less black and white perceptions than everyone else, so it wouldn’t be impossible. it’s still hard though.

she doesn’t take the threat of kira lightly (hahahaha) so she could NEVER side with him. this comes back to the fear of death. she wouldn’t let anyone die because of her. not after losing her mom. but if it was something like shoplifting then yeah she would do it

anyways ty for the ask!!!! this was so fun

[maffickingcowplants]

Philomena, Augustine, Ember, and Demarcus arrive at Willow Creek park, the snow blanketing everything in a soft, cold glow. Phil has been carrying a secret, one she hasn't quite found the right moment to tell her brother Gus, but promised she would soon. Gus, however, knows something is up. He’s cryptic when he texts Demarcus: “Something's up, come to the WC park” but it works. In no time, the four of them are sitting at a picnic table, watching their breath float in the air like wisps of fog.

Ember, ever the one to cut through tension, leans forward and asks, “So… what’s up?”

Phil takes a deep breath, her words rushing out like she’s trying to get them out before she can rethink them. "Dad and Nina Caliente had a baby and I read about it in the tabloid! Turns out we have a half-sister: Catalina." The words hang in the air, almost freezing like the snow falling gently around them.

Ember’s eyes widen in shock, her voice incredulous. “What? No way! I’ve seen the photos of Bella, and… Nina? Seriously? She’s no Bella.”

Demarcus, who’s always been on the periphery of the Goth family drama, furrows his brow. "Did Mortimer even know about this?”

Gus, head in his hands, groans, “No, I don’t think so. If Dad had known, I’m pretty sure he would've told us. I mean, she’s a toddler now.” His voice trails off, and there’s a moment of shared discomfort. This revelation is a lot for all of them to process.

“Did you bring the magazine?” Ember asks, her voice still tinged with disbelief.

Phil shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Nope, I left it on the coffee table. Someone else will have to deal with that bombshell.”

Demarcus, always quick with a sharp comment, leans back and says, “That coffee table’s seen more drama than a Sim with three lovers in the same room.”

Gus groans again, but this time there’s a hint of laughter in it. “Oh man, wait until Cassandra sees it. She’s going to blow up. She’s been running the house ever since Dad gave her his room, acting like the new ‘woman’ of the manor.”

Phil nods emphatically. “Exactly. That’s why I noped right out of there. I was not sticking around for the fireworks. I just need to get out of that house. I swear, if I hear ‘Cassandra says’ one more time…” She trails off, shaking her head.

Demarcus smirks, “We should all move to the city for university.”

Gus and Ember’s eyes light up, and in unison, they exclaim, “Yes!”

Phil, still brooding a little over the chaos at home, nods along slowly. The idea of getting away, of starting fresh somewhere else, is tempting, even if she’s distracted by thoughts of what’s going on in the Goth household. But the laughter from her friends warms her a little, especially when Demarcus cracks another joke: “At this point, Mortimer’s life seems like a soap opera. I’m just waiting for the evil twin plot twist.”

"C'mon, lets go inside the greenhouse, it's cold out here," Phil says, standing up amid the other's laughter.

Posts about Philomena: « PREVIOUS / BEGINNING / NEXT »

Posts about Augustine: « PREVIOUS / BEGINNING / NEXT »

[blueisquitetired]

ABANDONED WIP WEDNESDAY

Welcome back to abandoned WIPS! The part of the show where I show off writing that will almost certainly never come back.

Today I bring you my first ever fan fiction for this fandom, something I wrote because the hyper fixation was killing me and I needed an outlet. I pretty quickly wrote the whole thing off as a lost cause though as I was certain my horrible health wouldn't let me finish it.

How I actually ended up writing fan fiction is a tale and a half, but I'll save that for another day. So for now, I present to you:

Akari Would Like to Say a Swear (but she can't remember any)

This was a pretty straight forward dad!Ingo fic where Akari was found by the Pearl Clan instead of the galaxy team. She was also from earth. (As usual for me honestly lol)

The prologue and first chapter got written out- neither of which have Ingo in them yet. Ah well.

Length: 2,204 words

Rating: G

No warnings applicable

Prologue

She doesn’t remember falling. She remembers an impact, a freezing feeling as snow burns her skin and obscures her vision, a panic at the sensations far too cold for her bare arms. She remembers struggling, trying to dig herself out of the snowbank that she’s trapped in, but she’s upside down and her head hurts and her arms are freezing and-

She remembers muffled shouting, the tugging on her legs as they pull her out of the snow, confused faces, concerned questions, stranger’s hands helping her up onto her feet but her legs are numb and she-

She wakes up somewhere strange, in a tent of some kind, warmer but not warm enough, the fire not strong enough to fix the chill in her bones. A lady approaches, a stranger she does not recognize, murmuring soft reassurances and helping her drink something that is warm and comforting and she’s so tired and-

She is not the first to forget the fall. 

oOOo

It’s two days before she wakes fully, sitting up and looking around herself in confusion. A man sits by the fire, speaking in a language she does not know- but somehow understands. He tells her that he’s glad she’s awake and that he’ll go fetch… someone. He leaves the girl in the tent alone, giving her time to wake more and take in her surroundings. Her clothes have been changed, a pale pink tunic replacing the clothes that she fell in. Said clothes sit folded at the foot of her bed, a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a cute cartoon eevee on it.

Eevee is her favorite pokemon. She always goes out of her way to catch it in every game she plays.

The tent flap opens to a gust of cold wind as a teenager steps inside. She’s younger than the girl, maybe 15 or so? But she has the air of someone important, a determination in her eyes that commands respect. A few others follow after the teenager, standing behind her and staring the girl down. It’s an unpleasant feeling. The teenager steps forward and speaks, her language unfamiliar, but the girl understands it anyway.

“I am Iridia, the leader of the Pearl Clan. Two days ago you fell from the space time rift into a snowbank outside of our village. You have been unconscious since we dug you out and you very nearly died.” Her eyes soften at the girl’s baffled gaze. She speaks softer, as if to a child, “You are obviously quite far from home. Your clothes are foreign and are inappropriate for the icelands. While the Pearl Clan is weary of outsiders we are not cold enough to turn away a child in need. Do you recall where you came from?”

‘I’m not a child’ The girl thinks but starts to tell Iridia where she’s from anyway. Or at least tries to. The words are on the tip of her tongue, it’s a place she knows well, she lives there doesn't she? But the answer doesn't come, and it slowly dawns on her that she forgot. She forgot something as important as her home. 

Iridia lets out a quiet disappointed sigh and the two adults beside her exchange glances. She softly sits on the bed beside the panicking girl, taking her hands in her own as she looks at her with a soft, sympathetic gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember. I honestly didn’t really expect you to.” She smiles sadly, squeezing the girl’s hands a bit. “Do you at least recall your name?”

That one’s much easier, her name has been with the girl her whole life after all. 

“I’m-”

But the word won’t come out, her identity slipping away just as her home had. She actually forgot her name. Something she’d carried her whole life, a word that grounded her to this reality as proof of her existence. Your name is something that is impossible to forget, a thing that distinguishes you, separates you from the people around you. The most important, unforgettable word-

A word that she somehow forgot.

“-frick”

Chapter One

“So your name is Frick?” 

The girl balks at that, shaking her head and waving her hands in a bit of a panic.

“What- no- that- uh- frick is a word you use when you’re like, frustrated you know? Like a swear? But not?”

She wasn’t allowed to swear in her house. Her mother would have had her head if any of her younger siblings started mimicking her. Substitutes were tolerated, but only barely.

“It’s a- uh- censored version of… something? I dunno my head feels kinda funky and I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact I can’t remember my own fricking name-” Another pause, Idrida’s looks like she doesn't know wether to laugh or be concerned, “-which definitely isn’t Frick. I don’t know what it is but it’s not that”

Iridia gives her hands another soft squeeze, a small chuckle escaping her.

“Not Frick then I guess. Good to know.” She glances back at the others in the tent before furrowing her brow in concern. “Is there anything you do remember?”

oOOo

She didn’t remember much apparently, and what she could remember wasn’t much use. Her favorite color (Pink) wasn’t very helpful and her age (19) was just plain incorrect.

Iridia asked if she meant that she was nine. She didn’t and was pretty frustrated that the teenager wouldn’t believe her. That is until one of the adults rolled their eyes and pulled out a small handheld mirror. There was a child in the reflection. 

Despite that, Iridia encouraged her to keep trying, and that she could stay with the Pearl Clan as long as she needed. The adults finally spoke up then, protesting about taking in more strangers from the rift, especially a child that would be of no use. Iridia asked if they really wanted to send a child out to die, to which the answer was apparently no. She was given a person to stay with, clothes to wear, a promise of security, and most importantly, a name.

Akari 

“Of course, you can change it any time.” Iridia said, helping Akari settle into her new lodgings. “If you remember your old name or think of one you like better-”

“Akari is good. Thank you for coming up with it” Akari flashed Iridia her best smile and Iridia blushed a bit at the praise.

“I’m glad you like it. I just kinda suggested the first thing I thought of.” 

A freezing chill blew in and both girls turned to the entrance. The owner of the tent Judy, a kindly old woman and Akari’s new roommate/guardian, came in holding a small bundle under her arm. Iridia beamed as the woman handed it to her, before turning back to Akari.

“You’re actually not the first person from the rift we’ve taken in.” Iridia began unwrapping the bundle “About a year ago, a man named Ingo came to our settlement with the same problem you’re having now. His clothes were strange, his words were baffling, and his memories were somewhere he could not find them.” 

From the cloth Iridia pulled out a bound journal with a stick of graphite. She smiled as she handed them to Akari.

“He said that journaling helped keep track of the few memories he could recall, I hope it’s the same for you.”

Akari flipped through the blank pages of the journal, fiddling with the graphite stick as she did so. Looking back up at Iridia she asked, 

“Did he make it back to his home?”

Iridia shook her head. “Ingo’s still with us, and I’ll admit he hasn’t remembered much… but he’s one of our Wardens now, a very special position only a few can hold.” She smiled fondly. “He has found a place here, and I hope that you will too.”

oOOo

Akari looked down on the village from her perch at the top of the hill. It was probably her favorite spot to write, close enough to the hot springs to feel it’s heat, while also against a cliff face that blocked the south blowing wind. Of course, that didn’t stop the north blowing wind, but she’d take what she could get.

Tracing patterns in the snow with the tip of her boot, she flipped to the front of her journal to review what she had written so far. It was a depressingly short list, full of stupid things like her favorite season (spring) or her opinion on spicy food (tastes bad). Of course, some of them were a bit concerning. Like her age that was off by a decade and-

Pokemon aren’t real

That one really confused her. Akari knew pokemon. She knew what they looked like, their types and names, heck she even had one printed on the shirt she showed up in! But…they all looked wrong, like playing an older video game on a bigger tv and seeing the pixels that you’d never noticed before. There was too much texture and detail and it all felt off. Frankly, it was quite disconcerting at first.

But once she got used to it?

I really like pokemon

The creatures fascinated her. She wasn’t quite sure how she had ever lived without ever seeing one before, (She had also never seen snow before now. Maybe that was related?) but now that she had- she never wanted to go back.

Pokemon were cool. Akari spent most of her free time watching them, watching as they talked, battled, and played with each other. She observed them, taking small notes when they did something interesting and-

I like to draw

That was a fun one to find out. She had been sitting at her spot trying to recall memories as always when one of the hot spring swinub got flipped on it’s back. It squirmed around a bit before it realized it was stuck and it let out a frustrated snort. It was hilarious, and Akari wished she could take a picture. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure pictures didn’t exist and it was another one of those malfunctioning memories of hers. 

‘Maybe I could draw it’ 

Well it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Turns out, she actually kinda knew what she was doing. The picture wasn’t perfect, it was covered in charcoal smudges and the swinub righted itself before she could finish, but it was good enough. Soon her writing journal was more of a sketch pad as it was filled with images of all the local pokemon. 

She hummed softly as she flipped through the journals pages, a history of the past two months recorded in charcoal sketches and notes. A swinub shuffled out of the hot spring and over to her, sniffing her and giving her a short whine.

“I don’t have any food for you” Akari said, laughing as it bumped into her hands looking for treats. “Nothing here but me and my thoughts.”

The swinub snorted, turning away from her and down the hill to the village proper, off to beg someone who actually had food. She watched it go, trailing aimlessly among the Pearl Clan. Her eyes drifted over to the other children her age, laughing as they chased each other across the village. She watched friends chat as they did their work, watched mothers yell at their children in exasperation, watched older folks gossip over a shared meal. 

Her heart ached, most people were friendly but none wanted to be near her much. Children ran from her giggling while adults gave her side eyes. Iridia was almost a friend, but she was a busy lady who had a very important job to do. Judy was kind, but uninterested in any kind of real relationship with Akari. It had been two months of being alone with her thoughts, nothing but lost memories and the endless snow to keep her company.

She flipped back to the front of her journal, going to the bottom of the list and after a bit of thought wrote,

I wish I had a family again.

Chapter Two- A New Friend

Being a small child with no friends gave Akari a lot of time to explore. Sure she had technically had chores, but Judy really didn’t have the time or patience to teach her how to mend clothes properly. Akari would still give it her best effort, but usually after an hour or so Judy would get tired of her shoddy craftsmanship and shoo her off.

The Pearl Settlement was tucked securely in a small valley, large cliffaces shielding the village from the elements and wild pokemon.  The only real way out of the town was to the west, where a small river blocked the settlement entrance from most land-based dangers. 

And the dangers were out there. Iridia and then later Judy did their best to stress to Akari how vicious and brutal the wild pokemon were. The Alabaster Icelands was one of the most dangerous places in all of Hisui and for some reason the pearl clan decided that their home had to be there. (Apparently the Diamond Clan lived in a swamp, which was a different brand of insane)

And then this was supposed to be much later in the fic, after a few Ingo chapters at least:

Emmet remembers falling. He remembers finding his brothers pokeballs in the train tunnels, all alone with no Ingo in sight. He remembers the questions from police, the missing posters, frantic searching. He remembers overworking, 14 hour shifts every day in a desperate attempt to cope with the loss. He remembers slowly falling apart as every day ticks on and there’s no sign of his twin no matter where he searches. He remembers, and he doubts he will ever forget.

[welcometoteyvat]

characterization/headcanons masterlist?????????

baizhu: self-sacrificial yet selfish. pale, slight eyebags, crows feet, easily bruised (thin skin + anemia. L), sometimes uses a cane. surprisingly good with kids (see: ningguang) and despite everything else, has a nice, soothing voice. sometimes his smiles don't reach his serpent eyes. relentlessly pursues the greater good, no matter how many rights and wrongs get tangled together in the process, but tends carefully to each life under his care, far more than his own. patient, but doesn't suffer fools; kind, but sometimes a bit sadistic. pursues personal immortality, no matter the suffering he will face (re: xiaos warning), for the sake of the thousands of other lives that he might save. at his core, would like to save everyone, whatever it takes—and more importantly, has the confidence and (hubris?) arrogance to believe that saving everyone is possible. altruistic to a fault. does not believe in destiny.

shenhe: fierce, straightforward about things that mortal customs dictate you should be more subtle about. Childish, but only to an extent. feels like if you were empty inside but it feels like Something should be there, if only you could reach deep enough inside yourself to pull it to the light. feels deeply but sometimes vaguely, and uses interesting metaphors to describe her emotions sometimes. the thought of doing anything in halves has never crossed her mind. in that way she's as sincere and honest as her nephew. fuzzy on honorifics and titles, but understands deeply the concept of repaying kindnesses. still learning about the human world, but instinctively or by her own efforts, already understands most emotions—they are one of her few links to the mortal world. on some level, she gets people, but the detailed customs and laws that people have layered on top of raw feeling and direct action sometimes confuse her—there are too many unnecessary conventions that need to be followed to get to effectively the same end.

xiangling: mom is somewhere traveling, making a compendium of teyvat's herbs and medicines, and helping people, comes back occasionally to visit her and her dad. both her parents are bursting at the seams with love, and she is too—they have always taught her that the world is her oyster, and she knows that when they chide her to "be careful, don't get carried away, try not to break another pot", they mean well, and wholeheartedly want her to succeed. has never truly gotten burnt out, because the world is too full of potential for her to get tired of it yet. her dad has Yelled yelled at her at some point though, probably for an explosion, but she has always been earnest enough that he forgives her. 100% plays recipes by ear. semi-illiterate—can't read flowery writing/classic literature. xingqiu read an ancient epic to her and chongyun and she fell asleep, while chongyun said it was dull and "if your novel turns out like that, you should stop publishing". CANONICALLY STUDIES UNDER MADAME PING; i feel like i forget this. wholeheartedly believes food (and/or a listening ear) solves all problems, and her presence is like a cheerful welcoming fire after a long day. makes friends with all gods. may not understand everyone's feelings all the time, but tries her best, because she doesn't half-ass her friends' troubles, and gives down-to-earth advice.

chongyun: uses teachings of diligence. family uses catalysts mostly—claymore was for physical strength. translations make me die: "heart clear as ice, face like freezing frost". nothing if not sincere and honest, and fairness is very important to him. sticks to a rigid schedule of 3 meditations per day, followed by martial arts training, and/or spirit hunting/exorcising. has a mental complex about not putting in enough "work" (self defined) to achieve a certain outcome—hates taking the easy way out, even if it's already been hard enough. obedient and follows all contracts and conventions to a T, including adepti summoning. somehow likes listening to liu su's stories, but can't tell when the book we describe to him in the teapot is fictional (inconsistency? tbd). unsure of himself—still trying to form his ideal self, which is still nebulous and quite rough around the corners. dreamless sleep from yang energy. wip

hu tao: wistful about her grandfather's death—it's a natural part of living, so why was she still sad? enough years have mellowed her grief, but still has one thing she never got to say. playful and teasing, drops hints that she knows things far beyond what she's supposed to, especially when you least expect it. whimsy beyond whimsy, and sees no reason to drop childish antics when they make her happy. lanky body, prankster hands that are always cold, plays with her rings when bored. on the pale side, and her eyes are like january's vermillion plum blossoms in a courtyard full of snow. thinks out of the box, extremely creative, has very colorful metaphors, and quick witted; has roasts for days. wip

xingqiu: a copper coin hides in the corner of his smile. still roleplaying a hero, never gave up on his child self's dream. narrates his inner monologue like a romance (ie romance of the 3 kingdoms), chivalrous yet shirks his actual familial duty. wip, too many thoughts and not enough words

yanfei: SOMETHING ABOUT HER DAD IDK. mom hcs tbd. civil cases are her literal nightmare. despite this, has good knowledge of how to coerce and push people to admit to what they did, pretty adept at understanding human inconsistencies and motives. easy to talk to, and a very quick learner (manages to replicate yelan's illusion dispel within a day at most). a little bit of a weirdgirl. doesn't have a complex about her half-adeptal heritage unlike ganyu, and simply sees it as a perk. wip

to be added onto

[tolerateit]

I woke up from the craziest dream and immeriately came here to share it so forgivr me if there are any typos I literally barely have my eyes open.

So I dreamed that I was with my best friend but we had to split up cause I had a few things I needed to do. And the first thing was to see if there's a crowd at the dentist. On the way there, I ran into a couple of girls I used to know and I have no idea why but they joined me and we got to chatting. They came with me to the dentist (which was incredibly crowded, like 60 people ahead of me) so after waiting 15 minutes to see how fast the crowd would move, I texted these girls "Let's go I got what I came for" and we left. We chatted a bit more, they tried bullying me, and then they left, so I went to meet up with my best friend, who turned out to be hanging out with my sister. We went to get groceries at the supermarket and my sister went "I have huge news" and proceeded to talk about the girls I was with before which was a ridiculous coincidence. I told her I have gossip about them too, because I actually hung out with them earlier. So the three of us decided to go to a bar/restaurant and make a drinking game out of sharing the gossip.

-Up until this point the dream was pretty weird, and now it gets chaotic-

We got to the bar/restaurant and enter through a back door, which slams into a table, where my parents and their friends end up actually sitting. We all say hi, and I start looking for some old photos my dad's shared of Fb that they took of my sister and I pretending to graduate, and then of our actual graduations, so I could make some sort of meme to share with my family for some reason.

While doing that, my sister and my best friend find us a table through a waiter they know. The guy sits down with us. I finish making the meme, we decide on the rules of the drinking game and even the waiter wants to join. The rule was you flip a coin and pick a side, if it lands on the side you picked, you drink a shot. You're also supposed to share the gossip you had. If it lands on the wrong side, you don't drink nor share. As the waiter is flipping his coin, I can't help staring at this column near our table, that has a glass display box filled with a couple of cakes. I remember one of them has peach slices in it, and the column started shaking. A gigantic worm looking thing came out of the cake with the peaches, and a gigantic spider came out of the other cake in the display box. And they just kept growing until they broke out of the box, pushed the column down, suddenly they were as big as half the restaurant. And the worm attacked the spider. I am terrified of insects and started sweating and trying to figure out a way to get away, when the waiter grabs a remote from somewhere and just pauses the scene. So the spider freezes, but somehow the worm bypasses the pause and continues destroying the spider by sucking it from the inside out through its mouth-like opening thing that worms have. And it hits something inside. Millions of tiny spiders start leaving this giant frozen spider body as everyone in the restaurant starts scrambling for a way out. The gigantic insects also kept getting bigger. I went "this is getting too weird for me" and woke myself up.

NOTHING could have told me the story would culminate in a gigantic insect attack sksjjeke???

[nymphomatique]

to elaborate, simply put, dbf!miguel is very good at hiding things. you’ve figured as much since that first day you met him. he walked into the kitchen, six foot something of hulking muscle and supple tan skin, a face chiseled by the gods. flecks of grey peppering his temple, gorgeous brown eyes fixed in a smize (that made you hot under the collar), arched angular nose and plush lips. god, he was handsome. and way older than you. you’d guess early to mid forty’s, somewhere behind your dad in age, this making the instant attraction you felt even more inappropriate and downright disrespectful. you try not to blame yourself, you’re young and hormonal after all! still, you find the sense somewhere within you to act normal whenever miguel was around, even when you felt every inch of your skin yearn for him the longer you were around him. 

when he’d put a big, warm hand against your waist and murmur lowly “sorry, kid,” into your ear as he passes behind you. you tell yourself you don’t feel his thick erection brush against your backside, because that would be inappropriate and miguel doesn’t see you that way. when you’d grab him a beer from the fridge and he’d take it from you, thick legs spread on your living room sofa- that looks like it’s about to give up underneath his taut muscles, and your fingers would ghost one of the other in exchange of the bottle, you’d definitely not imagine what his thick fingers feel like inside of you, imagining how his thick and long appendages would unravel you inside out, because that would be sinful, uncouth, amoral. 

in efforts to keep your feelings towards your dads best friend and his lingering eyes at bay, you write. you write about your fantasies involving the older man, how you’d let him bring you to an enrapturing climax, how you’d let him wind you tighter and tighter until you burst under his touch, how you imagine the thick expanse of his back would look hinging your legs wide open as his tongue seeps into your wetness. it’s crude, it’s vulgar, it’s downright dirty. but you can’t help it. you can’t help how you use these to get you off in the dark of the night, parents fast asleep, the world at a quiet stand still, and you bring yourself to a mind numbing orgasm at the thought of miguel touching you, teasing you, licking at you, ravishing you. you know it’s dirty, you know it’s taboo, but you can’t stop yourself, feeling too caught up in the fantasy of an older man. 

you notice the tender touches, the subtle innuendos, pet names- kid, kiddo, baby, sweetheart- it’s hard to not delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. your age gap and circumstance making it all the more complicated. but deep down, you like how fucked up your relationship would be. a man so much older than you, seasoned, experienced, giving you pleasures boys your age could never. you’d revel at how people perceive you in public, a girl so young with a man greying, a man old enough to be her father, while only you and miguel would know that behind closed doors he pounds into you every night as you wail his name, Daddy, all breathy and lust laden, and relentless miguel would pound into you, a smirk on his lips as he delivers deep strokes that have you numb under him. “yeah? i’m your daddy now, huh?” and you nod, “daddy likes that. want daddy to cum in this tight fuckin’ pussy? hmm, baby?” and you’re slurring yesyesyespleasedaddyplease as his nasty words send guilty pleasure down your spine. 

you spare no details of your derranged and twisted thoughts in your diary, a diary that ends up in miguel possession. you freeze when you walk into your kitchen and see him at your kitchen table, reading the nasty borederline erotic you write about him. 

“you’re one of them daddy girls, huh? thought you’d be more into that master ‘n sir shit. but this?” he whistles lowly “this is just nasty, baby.”

you’re sputtering as he talking to you so casually, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, your lips struggle to form a coherent apology when he starts talking again.

“one thing to put in your spankbank is that when i’d fuck you, i’d fuck you in doggy. got a nice lil’ ass on you, kid. wanna see myself fuck it, y’know?” 

what? 

he gets up from the kitchen table, walking towards you. lips ghosting yours, he asks “how bad you want your daddy?”

you bite your lip and barely whisper “so fucking bad.”

to say your vivid fantasies fall short is an understatement, they don’t even begin to fully conceive the pleasure miguel gives you. true to his word, he fucks you from behind on your bed, his foot anchored over you and smudging your face in the sheets, your hips trapped between his thick hands. your eyes roll in the back of your head at how good he’s fucking you- feeling yourself gush each stroke at your g-spot.

miguel doesn’t spare you your feelings either, his mouth just as dirty as you pictured it, bordering on offensive. “good fucking girl for her daddy. taking this fucking cock like a champ- shit, baby.” he moans. you groan into the sheets, incoherent. “you like when i dirty you? when i step on you, treat you like the lowly little girl you are, huh?” you try your best to nod your head with his heavy foot against your face, groaning a yes! against the sheets. “mmm, i know you like this shit, that’s cause you’re all fucked up, baby, a grade a pervert. thinking about a man more than twice your age fucking a baby into you? you’re a real nasty bitch,” he coos into your ear as you sob from the sheer pleasure, and maybe the embarrassment of how his words make you feel hotter inside. he fucks into you slowly, torturously dragging himself in and out of you, from hilt to tip. you shake as he fucks you slow, feeling yourself squirt once more. you sigh into the sheets, feeling so fucking overwhelmed. a kiss to your shoulder.

“y’know what tho baby?” another kiss. “i like a nasty girl.” his foot comes from your face and you inhale sharply, feeling your full air intake once more. his hand threads through your hair, pulling your back against his chest, and he pounds into you once more, making you squeal. his other hand comes down your bodies to play with your clit and tears fall down your cheeks at the stimulation. “n-no more daddy, c-can’t- gonna cu- cum,” he licks your tears slowly, then plants his mouth against yours, your salty tears making their way to your tongue. he pulls apart from you, grabbing your cheeks to make sure you’re looking at him as he pounds into you. “i like when you cry.”

part two is here!

i find myself often enamoured with the idea of a very mean, very fucked up older dbf!miguel

[misschf-aisa]

I’m trying to sleep and I’ll tell you the sleep is fighting me. Apparently I need to spill a little bit so my brain and heart can have space to sleep and refill. As before, I choose Tumblr because the post will disappear in the way it should but I still feel like someone somewhere maybe read it.

It’s a hospital thing. This hospital thing always begins with the cramped and crowded parking garage where the all too plentiful extended cab trucks stick out into what is supposed to be a two way street and pedestrians who are dazed by whatever trauma brought them to the hospital have a tendency to walk right in the middle of the lanes. I drive a Fiat, but sometimes in this garage even I have to reverse and cut the wheel sharply before my little car is safely between the lines of the parking space.

2023 I did this dozens of times. Countless times. Mom was in the hospital again, Dad wouldn’t leave her side. A few days, she got to go home, I took him to chemo, she still had the drainage tube connected to her colon but she was okay and he wasn’t losing his hair.

I finally get parked and walk into the elevator bank that’s just inside from the parking garage. It doesn’t matter what floor I’m parked on because there are only two floors that will get you to the patient rooms in the other tower. The 6th floor is also the floor all the babies are on. It’s the place I gave birth to my first child over 30 years ago. I prefer to go all the way down to the first floor and walk the long hallway past the information desk and gift shop and security to get to the elevators I need so I tan go up to the 9th floor where Dad is right now.

The hospital floors are terrazzo, which makes me think if one of my favorite house flipping shows that takes place in Florida. They’re always so excited to keep a good terrazzo floor.

There are 6 elevators, but it always takes forever for one to get to the first floor. Almost always I’m standing waiting with a bored hospital employee on their phone, or a nervous family trying to pretend they’re not nervous. Sometimes if it’s just two of us on the elevator they’ll tell me a story, like the woman who was so grateful she’d gotten her man here in time when she realized he was having a stroke. Everybody in the hospital elevators who isn’t an employee is super friendly. Most of the employees are too.

Someone invariably gets off in the 7th floor. That’s the ICU, of course. Last June I spent an entire week practically living on the 7th floor in a freezing room. I was in the padded bench so Dad could have the hospital recliner while Mom fought the confusion of having had a stroke when she woke up from surgery and she couldn’t talk or move her right side and there was a horrible tube in her nose that she used every ounce of cleverness and willpower to try to remove for the entire week Dad and I kept watch over her.

It was important for me to get there around noon because Dad’s chemo required that he eat well. I don’t know what he did in the hours when I went home at night, but I know he ate lunch and dinner. And chemo was going well.

When I get off of the elevator on the 9th floor - Dad’s in room 946 - I lose almost a full year. I’ve been up there twice now and both times it’s the same. The 9th floor is where they treat patients with strokes. Dad didn’t have a stroke, they don’t think, but they worry there’s something weird in his brain so the stroke floor is a good place for that. Mom had a stroke, though.

Dad and I carried the bags that had accumulated while he basically lived in her ICU room. She was transferred up to the 9th floor. We were talking about rehab and next steps and then I hugged my dad, told my mom good night, and went home happy and hopeful for the first time in over a week. It would be tough, she was still unable to talk or move her right side, but we’re pretty tough too so we’d get this handled. She wasn’t in the ICU anymore, and they’d bring hospital food to my dad now that he was staying with her on a real floor. I planned to stay home the next day and let my son sit with my dad.

Of course, the next day she died from complications from the surgery she’d been there for in the first place.

So now Dad is the one in the bed. His problems are super different, they’re certainly not as acute. But I walk those halls surrounded by ghosts from a year ago. The beeps and chatter from the nurse’s station, the way the hallways smell, the sounds of random television shows as you walk past room after room. The view of Swan Lake and downtown from the window in Dad’s room. It’s different, but it’s the same.

Thanks for letting me vent, I think I might just be able to fall asleep now that I’ve given it to you, whoever you are.

[howyoutalktostrangers]

Azalea and the Ghost Mists of Mount Tzouhalem, Part 2

by Will Johnson

Aza thought she could hear music in the mist.

At first it was just a faint tinkling, like somebody dancing their fingers over the keys of a piano, but each note became more distinct the further she ventured from her Dad. The landscape was mostly bare, with humps of fractured shale jutting up amidst the scraggly trees.

She was wearing shin-high snow boots with thick grey stockings under a navy blue dress. Her snow jacket had a fur-lined hood, and she’d pulled it up over her head to combat the freezing wind. She wanted desperately to be brave, but she couldn’t help the way her heart thumped against her sternum like some tiny person inside her was banging desperately for escape.

After a few minutes she came upon a cliff face. It loomed fifteen feet above her, disappearing into the whiteness. The rocks were tangled with thick vinery and a few twisted trees hung out at diagonal angles, their skinny branches drooping heavily. She was confused for a moment, because she thought she was going downhill, and she didn’t remember there being a cliff here.

She reached out and touched the cold stone, feeling it crumble under her palm. She gazed up, trying to see the top, moisture collecting in her upraised eyes. This obstacle made her feel afraid, like she’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, like this unyielding wall was standing between her and home. With her fingers outspread she pushed frustrated against it, blinking away tears.

Then, through the lilting melody of the breeze, she heard something new: a steady trickle of water. Aza swung her head from side to side, searching for the source of sound, and took a few steps back. Down the cliff wall to her left she spotted a tiny rippling pool of water in a fluffy bowl of moss, inky black with silvery glints. She approached it curiously, dragging her fingers through the vines as her boots crunched through the loose gravel.

As she got closer a waterfall came into view, flowing steady and uninterrupted. There were long dangling pink worms undulating in its current, roots from the foliage above, and the water collected at the base of a shower-sized opening in the slimy rock. She’d never seen a waterfall on Mount Tzouhalem before, not in the hundreds of times she’d been here with her family.

Now the music was louder. Not only that, she could clearly hear that it was piano — and it seemed to be coming from the other side of the waterfall. From the edge of the pool she leaned in to listen, trying to separate the rhythmic cadence of the water from the ethereal wash of the mysterious melody. There couldn’t be someone inside, could there? Was she starting to imagine things?

“Hello?” Aza called. “Is there somebody in there?”

When there was no reply, she worked her way around the perimeter of the pond and leaned behind the sheet of water. Droplets tickled her face as she strained forward.

“Is somebody playing music in there? Hello? Can you hear me?”

Still there was no answer.

For a moment Aza considered giving up, but her Dad had sent her on this mission and she didn’t think she could leave a mystery like this behind. Taking a bold step, she maneuvered behind the falling water and felt her boot find purchase on the slick rock beyond. The waterfall hammered down on the shoulder of her coat, soaking through it instantly, and she gasped with the shock of the cold. But then her second foot found firm ground and she found herself in a cavern hardly bigger than her body. She squinted into the startling darkness, wondering if she had made a big mistake.

Would anyone think to look for her behind a waterfall?

At this point, though, she was committed. Aza swiped at her shoulder a few times, took a deep breath, and marched forward with determination. The music was bouncing off the walls now, becoming more distinct. It reminded her of the classical music her piano teacher had played for her, of Mozart and Beethoven and Bach. If somebody felt comfortable enough to play this music, then this cave surely couldn’t contain monsters, could it? Or ghosts? She thought back to her conversation with her father, how she said there were people waiting to meet her. Would she find them here, underneath the earth?

People often told Aza that she acted older than her age, but at this moment she felt frightfully aware that she was only nine years old. Most adults were double, even triple her size. If she met someone in this dark corridor, what would she do? Aza was not a violent girl, but if somebody threatened her life she was ready to fight.

“Hello? I heard your music from outside. Can you hear me? Hello?”

Her voice sounded tiny and afraid echoing off the tunnel walls, and she began to make her careful descent. She splashed through puddles, bracing her hand against the damp wall to keep her oriented. The banging in her chest was picking up in tempo, and her breath came in quick bursts.

She suddenly wished her siblings Kris and Celista could be here with her, keeping her safe. They were always diligent about protecting their baby sister, whether on the playground at school or out in the chaos of the world. She’d become accustomed to being the baby of the family.

The tunnel curved to the right, and suddenly there was light flickering on the wet moss growing in the crevices of the wall opposite her. She picked up pace, moving towards the light, and as she rounded the corner the space filled with a fiery radiance. The piano was clear now, the notes lively, and she could make out the details of a bedroom-like space. Shadows were dancing on a wall decorated with framed photographs, and from the gloom she could feel a warm ambience. Somebody lived here in this subterranean warren, and they were happy to live here. But who?

“My name is Aza,” she called. “Can you hear me?”

Then the music stopped, abruptly. The shadows began to move, and for a moment she thought about fleeing back to the waterfall. But before she could move a woman appeared in the entranceway, silhouetted black. She was slightly stooped and clearly elderly, with her hair pulled into a tidy bun and her long flowing dress reaching down to the ground.

The woman stood there silent for a long moment, only a few arm’s lengths away from Aza. There was a strange power to her presence, like there was energy emanating from her body and filling the space between them.

“And here I thought you were going to be late,” the woman said, holding up a lantern. It illuminated her kind, wrinkled face. “But of course you’re right on time. Almost to the minute.”

Aza didn’t know what to say to that.

“Come, girl. Come inside and have a seat. You must be hungry, and I’m just brewing a pot of tea. You don’t need to be afraid, Azalea. Come, come. Come inside.”

“How do you know my name?” she asked.

The woman smiled mischievously. “I knew your name before you were born.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

She laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it does. But I’m not going to eat you, and I’m certainly not going to chase you, so you may as well come in from the cold. You wouldn’t want to keep an old woman waiting, would you?”

The Literary Goon

[lyaenidae]

Winterfest trip to Komorebi

A few weeks have gone by since Miki's family went back home. And she now feels the need to give Kenta some time with his family as well. So she organises a surprise trip, packing for them before he comes home from work on the last Friday before the holidays.

"What is going on ?" Kenta asks when he gets back, still in his work jumpsuit. "I just thought I'd pack most of what we need so that you don't have to worry about anything but going for a shower and putting some comfy clothes on for the plane !" Miki answers, sitting next to him on the bed. "We're going somewhere ?" "We're spending the holidays in Komorebi, your family is expecting us tomorrow night for dinner !" He looks delighted, surprised in the best way. He goes in to kiss her but instead, she leans in to whisper on a different tone : "And we're flying in early tomorrow morning so that we can enjoy the nice rental I've gotten us all day tomorrow..."

"Now go shower, we have to sleep early tonight, we have to get to the airport for 4am." And the next morning, just before dawn, they landed in Komorebi, not too far from the house Miki had gotten us for the duration of the trip, so they went straight there.

After having a look around the house, Kenta went for a relaxing bath, the cold air making him revert to old habits, while Miki unpacked quickly. And once he was done in the bathroom, she refused to let him put his clothes back on, easily convincing him to try the bed. Of course, they had to shower again afterwards and somehow ended up getting steamy in there too !

Then it was time to put the warm clothes on and trek through the snow to get to town, to Itsuki, Isui and Sakura's home. Inside, a tiny someone was having a little tantrum, wondering when his other uncle would finally get there. And he ran outside to welcome him once he saw him through the window.

"Unkie Kenta !!" "Isui, littlest boy ! How are you ?!"

"I'm okay, I think I'm being followed, don't look behind me !" said the toddler when he got put back down. "Oh don't mind me , it's just uncle Seiji, keeping an eye on you like your mom asked."

"Hey little bro ! How are you doing ? Love the new haircut !" "What about me ?!" said Isui, jumping to get some attention. "Can't see your hair little monster, your head is covered ! Let's get inside so no one freezes !"

Once inside, of course, Kenta found Sakura first, giving her the biggest hug. "It's been too long !" both of them said while in each other's arms. "Where's dad ?" "Still upstairs, I think he had a nap after we set up all the decorations. He's getting older I guess..." Of course, Kenta says hi to everyone, admiring all the Winterfest deco they've put up this year, and once he found his dad and hugged him too, the party could properly start.