#i can’t afford to stop tho there’s not enough time tomorrow for me to get into the right mindset; write AND edit

[autistic-katara]

ONTO PAGE 6 LETS GO

[kenmasgameboy]

May I ask for 61 and 2 were Iwaizumi cheated on the reader, and Oikawa knew but never told the reader even tho they were best friends. And she leaves them behind. Cause fuck cheaters. Angsty angst please!

bruh the way this shit made me FEEL WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU UGH im SAD. also i ended up writing SO MUCH for this omg. I loved this prompt a lot more than i thought i did. I think i put into it what i wish i said to my ex who cheated on me with my best friend. fuck!! cheaters!!

TW: arguments, long distance relationship, cheating and betrayal, swear words.

2. “When did you stop loving me?”

61. “You don’t smile anymore.”

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You had known these boys for ages. Looking at Oikawa and Iwaizumi made you feel like you were home. Iwaizumi, the man that would send you into the heavens and make you feel safe beyond any amount of doubt. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t in love with him. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t with your best friends.

But recently things are different. University made everything hard and it was like a wall had been driven between you and your happiness. The first year was the hardest, you would call Iwaizumi every night or every other night in the pain of being so far away from someone you loved so much. You’d keep things under control though, you never wanted to worry him. You thought you knew him, that if you exposed how you really felt he’d march down there in an instant. But then somewhere around a month or two into this, he stopped answering. He’d still text you in the mornings, so you didn’t give it much thought and instead turned your attention to your best friend, Oikawa.

Both of them were on the other side of the world from you. Oikawa was away in Argentina, and he still made time to talk to you. Iwaizumi was all the way in California, just doing university and not a university student and a professional volleyball team like Oikawa was. He was a completely different person than you used to know.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Oikawa looked over at you after about a 5-minute long pause of silence in your conversation. You were staring at your phone. You took in a deep sigh. Iwaizumi hadn’t texted in two days.

“Nothing, I’m sure it’s nothing.” You brushed it off, trying your hardest to hide those tears that threatened to sting you and fall down.

“You can tell me, right? Is it something at school? Have you made any friends?” Oikawa asked you. Reaching his hand out and laying his head against his bicep. 

“A few.” You shrugged.

“Y/N-chan, I don’t want to sound like Iwa, but I’m worried about you. You don’t smile anymore. Have you thought about going home for a few days?” He offered as a possible solution.

“I don’t want to go home if you guys aren’t there.” You grumbled, “But I was Hajime’s thanksgiving break is coming up next month, I was thinking about surprising him since I know he’ll have a week off with nothing to do.”

“I’m offended you aren’t coming to visit me!” Oikawa whined.

“I will when you finally give yourself a break!” You teased, “Plus, honestly he hasn’t texted me in days. I know it sounds stupid, we’ve been together for years, but I feel like I need to see him. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

“I think you should. But maybe you should tell him you’re coming before you go?” Oikawa suggested. Fiddling with his hair in between his index finger and thumb. 

“No way, that takes all the fun out! You said it yourself you hadn’t seen me smile recently. This will give me a reason to smile. Once I go there and we figure everything out, I’ll have my reasons again. Just please don’t tell him! I don’t want to get his hopes up and if I suddenly can’t afford it or something then he’d be disappointed.” You begged your friend, and he solemnly nodded before needing to leave.

You kept to your plan. You got on that long flight to California, landing alone and getting a uber to your boyfriend's apartment. You were so thankful you guys swapped sharing locations before leaving, it made this so much easier. You got to the door and fixed yourself nice and pretty before pulling out your phone and recording. You wanted to keep his face of surprise forever.

You knocked on the door, but the person who was surprised was you. A woman opened the door in a towel. Your face dropping.

“Is this Iwaizumi’s apartment?” You had one last shred of hope in you, you had one last string of hope in you. Please, anything but this.

“Oh my god! Wait you’re Y/N right? Hajime and Tooru always talk about you.” She smiled widely, offering her hand to you, “I’m Jess, I’m his girlfriend. He didn’t say you were coming by.”

“Babe, who is it?” You heard the love of your life's voice coming from the shower. You stopped recording on your phone.

You couldn’t control yourself, you pushed the woman in front of you to the side before she could answer for you. You ran into his bathroom, your tear-filled eyes meeting his through the shower curtain.

“Surprise.” You said your heart being smashed to pieces on the ground as you meet his face. His eyebrows raised, his body limp. He knew he was caught.

“Y/N.. What are you doing here? No, no wait.” You tried not listening to him, you walked away. Not wanting him to see your tears fall anymore, he didn’t deserve that side of you anymore. 

“Wait, who the fuck are you?” Jess asked you on your way out the door.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” Iwaizumi called from behind you. Following you into the street in nothing but his gym shorts.

“Stop, Hajime! I can’t even fucking look at you!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice. 

“Y/N, please I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to find out like this–” He grabbed you by the wrist but you just ripped it away from him.

“Don’t touch me! Are you fucking serious? What did you think I would say? I knew you were distant, I didn’t know if it was the timezone or what but now I understand.” It took all the strength in you to stand and face him. Your body running on the adrenaline of the betrayal and anger that coursed through you. “You fucking asshole. 4 years for it to end like this? I loved you so much. I wanted to marry you! You couldn’t have at least broken up with me like a man when you find a new girlfriend.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend– I don’t know why she told you that, babe I don’t want this to end–” Iwaizumi tried coming up with absolutely anything to say to you. The truth was he hadn’t thought about what to say at this moment. He’d replayed it in his head multiple times when he laid with other girls, at some point he convinced himself he could get away with it. That maybe he’d never have to tell you. Obviously, that dream came down in a crumbling wave of hurt and disappointment.

“Don’t you dare call me the same thing you called her. Like it even matters if you called her your girlfriend or not! It’s obviously been going on for some time. So tell me, Iwaizumi, when did you stop loving me? I need to hear it so I stop being so blind in the future.” You choked out the last bit of your words, tears fell into your mouth. You were sure you looked the ugliest you’d ever looked. It embarrassed you, but you needed to know. After this, you’d never see him again.

“I–I can’t answer that.” Iwaizumi was crying in front of you. Rubbing his eyes on the back of his wrists. “I still love you–”

“No you don’t. Iwaizumi, you feel guilty. That’s not love. I want to know how long, was she ever there when I was calling you because of how badly I missed your voice.” You refused his confession. His eyes widened, you couldn’t tell if it was the realization or the way it hurt to be rejected by you. Either way, his silence was enough to answer for you at that time.

“Did Tooru know?” You asked next to his lack of response.

“What?”

“You’re girlfriend said you and Tooru talk about me a lot. So both the closest people in my life lied to me, right? They lied to my face.” You asked him again, wanting to speed this up and get the hell out of there. He hung his head. You let out one last hiccup of pain.

“I asked him to, I told him I would tell you myself. Don’t be mad at him–” Iwaizumi begged you this time but it was too late.

“If he were a real friend of mine he should’ve told me, but he chose his side. When you stopped answering I was on the facetime with him every day. He had plenty of chances. You’re too late, Hajime. Tell Oikawa that I’m never speaking to either of you again. I’m blocking your numbers and I’m going back to Japan the next chance I can get.” You backed away, your head hanging. You didn’t know if you had any more hot tears to shed. They burned your cheeks. You hung your head down, trying to drop them onto the street instead of on your cheeks.

“Y/N... Please...” He begged weakly, his arm extending to touch your shoulder. He tried to bring you into his chest but you put your hands out to his chest. Your skin felt like it was going to fall off, he didn’t give you the comforting feeling of love and home and happiness anymore.

“No. This is the last time you’re ever seeing me.” You said it, looking into his eyes one final time. You could never do this, you felt like everything had been flushed down a clogged toilet. How would you ever move on from this?

“Where are you going?” He asked you, trailing at your heels.

“Away from you.” You spat, pulling out your phone. You were trying to look for an uber in the area.

“No, please let me take you somewhere safe, this isn’t a good neighborhood! And I know you got a C in English. Please, I’ll protect you, even if I need to follow from further away or something, I can call you someone and we can talk again tomorrow–” Iwaizumi was really trying, he pulled out his own phone and tried to look for something in his contacts list but you refused. 

“That’s coming from the person who hurt me the most. You have no place in my life anymore. Just leave me the hell alone.” You said this without looking behind you, “Goodbye, Hajime.” 

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jenna’s 5k celebration dialogue prompts!

[littlemoondarlingarts]

Unfortunately it happened

A short story about two of my ocs that I've been writing for a while, please read the trigger warnings carefully before proceeding to the story.

Genre: magical realism with hints of psychological horror.

Word count: 4293 words.

Tw: Abuse, domestic abuse, past abuse, ptsd, hallucinations, claustrophobic scenes, blood, glass shards, mild sexual scene, possible sexual assault, disrespecting the boundaries of an autistic child, abandonment issues.

If there are any more possible trigger warnings that I didn't write, please let me know.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The thick warm blood irregularly dripped onto the rotting floor as Theodore tried to wrestle out the large glass shard that was lodged deep in his skull. He knew that pulling it out would only cause him to bleed more, but he had no other choice, his body just wouldn't heal around it. It's not like he could even go to a hospital. They ask questions there. Too many questions. He hissed in pain, fingers slipping over the smooth, wet surface, making the job ten times harder than what it already was.

Fear and pain overwhelmed his senses to the point where he couldn't even hear the squeaks of the wooden planks that normally annoyed him to no end. He only noticed that someone was in the small room with him when a pair of tiny pale feet stopped right infront of him.

"Stay back baby, there's glass on the floor." He let his hand fall down, the stubborn shard finally dislodged from his forehead, "Go back to your room, I'm okay." The obvious lie slipped through his blooded lips like smooth butter, if there was something Theodore excelled exceptionally at, it was lying with confidence so great that you would believe him over your very own eyes.

"Why don't you stop him?" Fran asked meekly, shoulders tense and lips pouty, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his favourite shirt violently enough to tear the delicate embroidery his dad had spend countless hours on.

Theodore lifted his head, his tired eyes taking in the heart wrenching sight of the boy he grew to call his son. Fran's whole body was trembling, his small fingers red and bruised from unconsciously fighting with the thread, his nose was swollen, the skin around his eyes was puffy. It was clear as day that the little boy had been crying for a while now.... probably since the fight started.

"Franny," Theo started softly, "I'm alright now. It's over, okay? Just go to your room, I'll follow you in a bit. Promise."

But the little vampire didn't budge, his cold feet planted firmly on the floor, lips forming a thin line accompanied by a deep frown barely hidden by loose white curls. Theodore sighed, he wanted so badly to hold his son's hands and carry him back to his room like he did every night before, but he was scared if he'd moved even an inch more he'd tear his shirt even further, revealing more bruises and cuts, subsequently traumatizing the boy more. So he stayed put.

"Why don't you stop him?" Fran repeated.

"Baby you know I-"

"WHY DON'T YOU STOP HIM?!"

The abrupt outburst took Theodore by surprise, making him flinch back on the bed. His wide blue eyes were chaotic as they searched the smaller one's face for any ounce of sympathy. It was silly, really, to be looking for such emotions in a clearly overwhelmed and traumatized kid, but Theo couldn't help himself, couldn't help the fear that was eating away at him, one angry word at a time.

"I know you can, Teddy. You used to stand up to daddy! And he was a VAMPIRE!" Fran said with a bit of pride in his voice, "You know what? I think we should go back to living with him! Maybe Elliot is waiting for us there! And the-"

"Elliot left. He isn't waiting for us anywhere, he doesn't want us anymore." Theodore shrunk back to himself when he noticed the amount of venom in his voice, "Besides Franny, you know I'll never let him hurt you. I'll never let anyone hurt you." He tried giving the most reassuring smile he could muster with the dull ache in his bruised cheeks.

Fran was silent for a long, dreadful second before hot tears raced down his face, "You can't even protect yourself..."

That sentence was like a punch to the gut. He never thought about the consequences that their constant fighting had on his son. He thought, no, he made himself believe that as long as Fran was in no immediate physical danger, everything was okay. It almost frightened him just how much he was willing to ignore and sweep under the rug just to let himself feel like a good father.

"I don't feel safe here... I'm scared." Fran sniffled, "I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and-and find you dead!" It was getting harder for the little vampire to speak as the tears kept flowing, "Or.. or  that you would... would just leave me here like Elliot did... or.. or yo-" violent sobs wrecked his body, forbidding him from finishing his sentence.

Theodore was lost. He promised Rouge and Elliot.. fuck those two, he promised himself that he would give Fran the best life possible, and yet here he is... shaking and wailing helplessly... He needed to do something, and he needed to do it fast. But what? What could he do?

What would dad have done? Dad wouldn't let himself be in this fucking situation. But if he was ... what would he have done?? Theodore's hands were now shaking uncontrollably as he tried to think of an answer. He would've pulled me close. Held me tight in his arms and told me that he'll keep me safe no matter what. That everything will be okay. Yes. Yes... that's what he would've done.

And so he reached forward, taking the now bloodied tiny hands in his and pulling Fran into his arms, holding the sobbing boy as tight as he could.

But the truth is. What his father would've done is vastly different that what Theodore should've done. Because in that moment of pure loss and desperation, he forgot one crucial detail... Fran can't handle being touched. Especially not being hugged.

Fran yanked himself backwards with powers unnatural to him, his body was sent flying until he hit the floor with a loud thud that almost made Theodore's heart stop, but to the boy, anything was better then being held like that.

"Franny... I'm so sorry... I forgo-" Before he could finish his sentence, the vampire was on his feet and running out the room. His loud footsteps quickly fading into nothingness before the deafening slam of a door shook the old house to it's core.

Theodore let himself fall back on the bed, sending small dust particles flying all over him and irritating his allergies. He quickly placed a hand over his nose to stop himself from inhaling any of that dust, he can't afford having his brains ooze out his wounds if he sneezed.

His eyes closed before he could decide otherwise. It's okay... it will be okay.. he'd probably gone to bed now, I should do that too. Tomorrow will be different, it will be better, I'll make some scrambled eggs and bacon.. wait no, Fran is a vegetarian you idiot, he doesn't eat that shit!... fuck. I can make uh... grilled cheese sandwiches.. yeah he'll surely like that....

But deep down Theodore knew that he isn't a kid that can go to bed when he is tired or in pain anymore, he is an adult now, with a kid of his own and all the responsibilities that come with it..

The obnoxious sound of the sports channel blaring from the living room and the rhythmic pouring of rain on the window along with phantom barking of a distant dog were like a hammer smashing into Theodore's head over and over again. Every little sound was cranked up to a hundred, even his own heartbeating was agonizing.

He forced his body to sit back up, becoming face to face with the long mirror nailed to the wall which seemed to be closing in on him. Theodore instinctively pushed himself backwards until his back hit the cold wall as the room began fold in on itself until the mirror was nearly touching his feet. He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to ground himself as his claustrophobia kicked in and his breathing quickened to a painful degree.

He forced his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the walls that were now touching every inch of him. And his thoughts drifted back to the only place they could... Is it possible Franny is scared like this now? He feels unsafe.. he said that himself.. I can't just leave him alone in his room until the next sunset... that's not what dad would've done.. that's..that's what mom did... leave me alone and ignore me when I needed her most then pretend nothing happened the next day... that's what I was going to do...

The thought made his eyes shoot open only to be faced with her image in the mirror, blue eyes staring down at him with familiar disappointment. His blood boiled. He is becoming her! Repeating the cycle of neglectful abuse and torment until noone survives. In a moment of blind rage he balled his fist and swiftly moved to shatter the mirror and all the pain it was causing, but he found himself slammed to the floor, bloody knuckles causing a dent in it... it seems as tho the wall was still as far away as it always had been.

He stayed there for a moment, tears pouring down unapologetically as he tried to compose himself. He soon found enough willpower to stand up, but before he could take a step forward, sharp pain shot up straight to his head, forcing him to grab onto the nearest wall for balance.

Once the pain dulled down enough for him to be able to open his eyes, he looked down at the apparent source, only to see that his right ankle had doubled in size, blue and swollen as if there was a tennis ball underneath the skin. He rested the back of his head on the window, feeling the cold droplets of rain leaking through and falling on his cheeks.

He sighed, he would heal, he always did. But it would take time, and unlike Silas, this fucker never cared for him after beating him up. Theodore chuckled to himself, never in a million years did he think he would use Silas as a positive example for anything, goes to show just how low his life had sunk.

Nevertheless, he needs to persist, not for himself but for the little vampire that depended on him.

He thought about taking a quick shower to wash off all the blood, but something told him not to, to just check on Fran as soon as possible, and Theodore's gut feeling had never failed him before, so he always followed it, even if he knew that his son was safe in his bed, wrapped in a fluffy blanket that Theo had spent all his money on. He smiled, remembering how Franny's eyes twinkled when he first saw the bee pattern on it. Oh how he wishes he would see him this happy every second of every day.

Still smiling, he managed to take off the ripped shirt without aggravating his injuries too much. He held the black tee in his hands, staring at the bright neon pink "Angel♡" written on it in a metal font with the white signature of the singer along the neck.

He got this shirt 2 years back when he went to the live performance, Angel wasn't even the main performer back then, they were merely the opening act. Given how small they were, they didn't have a signing booth, it was actually pure luck that Theodore managed to meet them outside while they were waiting for a taxi.

And he thought that Rouge was tall! Angel was at least eight feet, to the point where he felt like a little cat after cranking his neck up so high just to be able to see their face, and what a truly terrifying face it was! Almost nightmarish with their black bug eyes and their long pointy teeth! But they were nice, maybe a bit blunt and lacking a social filter, but after being with Fran for a while, Theodore got used to unwanted comments... wait.. Fran... now THAT is what he was here to do!

He immediately put his favourite shirt down on a nearby wooden chair, promising to fix the rip the moment he can carry something as delicate as a needle without his hands shaking and dropping it, he threw on an oversized sweater that used to belong to Elliot, a pair of ghost patterned pyjama pants and made his way to the corridor.

Theodore was still grabbing onto the walls as he limbed his way to the door covered in stickers, it was slightly ajar which was strange considering that Fran had slammed it, but with how rusted the hinges are, anything is possible. He slowly pushed the door open, peering into the dark room, noticing how the moonlight softly illuminated the blanket-covered lump on the bed.

He should be happy? Maybe relieved? But instead, all he could feel is the bile rising to his throat, and he just couldn't tell why, perhaps he was just anxious about the impending talk. Yes. It must be that.

Theodore slowly stepped toward the small bed, feeling the mattress sink under his weight as he sat on it. "Hey Franny..." no answer, "It's me Teddy," again, nothing. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his aching neck, "listen I came here to apologise, and I... are you asleep??" He pulled down the blanket only to see that it was only a group of plushies in the vague shape of a kid.

Adrenaline shot through his body making him forget all about his pain and injuries as he quickly opened the closet, looked under the bed, tore the covers from the bed. Yet.... Fran is nowhere to be seen.

"FRAN!" Theodore yelled at the top of his lungs, "FRAAAANN!" He stood aimlessly in the little room filled with the missing boy's trinkets and drawings, his breath so fast he could hear it as he impatiently waited for an answer, "Baby where are you?!"

He could feel the little plushies staring at him, knowing where his baby is but not telling him, they don't want Fran to go back to being with such a horrible father. Theodore grabbed his son's favourite one, a large fluffy bee he had won for him during a passing carnival. He forcefully held it, his fingers smearing the blood all over the bright yellow as he shook it back and forth in the air.

"Where is he goddamn it! Where is he?" He screamed over and over again at the defenseless bee.

To anyone passing by, this seems like complete and utter madness, a father interrogating a stuffed animal instead of searching the whole house for his missing son? But to Theodore in the moment, it made sense. These plushies were the closest to the little vampire, they know his secrets and feelings more than Theo ever apparently did. So it must be obvious that they would be the ones knowing where his precious baby would be.

"I know you know! So just tell me!" His voice broke as a pained sob took over him, making him hold onto the door handle as his knees seemed to buckle under him. "I'll make it better... I swear.."

"He went out you crazy bitch!" The familiar gruff voice came from the living room, it was naturally loud enough to drown out everything else, even the news channel. Or perhaps that was just Theodore's mind only focusing on what matters to him, whichever case it was, he heard it loud and clear.

"What?" He whispered, soft and almost silent; like a deer caught in headlights, he couldn't move a single muscle in his body. He was painfully aware of this, too; the fact that he is just. Sitting. There. Like a useless piece of shit. His brain screamed at him to 'MOVE IT YOU FUCKER! MOVE!' But his body was almost paralyzed, unable to do anything, not even blink.

It may have taken mere seconds to get up and be in the living room, but it felt like years. Years of him being useless and worthless.

He ran down the short corridor.

He ran.

And ran.

And ran.

And with every step, the corridor seemed to stretch further and further, the end feeling more like a mirage as countless doors strung on the walls. Screams were erupting from behind them, defeaning and terrifying. A minute of thinking would've made him recognize the voice as Fran's, and this was one of the many instances where he regretted ever doing that. Theodore shut his eyes, covering his ears with his hands and just ran forward like a fish in the deep dark ocean where the sun can't reach.

"What do you mean?" His voice was erratic when he finally made it to the living room, gripping the worn down sofa that his "boyfriend" was sitting calmly on, as if a kid isn't out in the dark and rain all on his own.

"He's just breathing some air after all that shit you caused!" The man turned to look at him, "You think I didn't hear all that? Well news flash baby, I have ears."

His absolute nonchalance about the whole thing was irritating Theodore to no end, and Theodore wore his emotions on his sleeves. His eyes darkened dangerously as he almost felt himself growl, but he had to control himself as that would definitely get him another beer bottle to the head.

The man chuckled softly, putting his large hand on top of Theodore's much tinier one, "You're too worried about him, Francis is-"

"Fran." He corrected in a low, deep voice.

"Whatever, same thing. Point is, he is a little man now! If he wants to go out and calm his nerves after you wrecked them, then let him!" He smiled, trying to pull the shorter man towards him, but he didn't budge. "Listen baby, you need to give him some time to work out his emotions, stop getting in his business you little helicopter!"

The man pulled again, this time successfully getting the half dissociated Theodore around the sofa and onto his lap. When he said it like that.... it almost made sense. Fran isn't eight and he really was hurt by all that Theo had done tonight and most nights before that, he does need some time to process all that. Or maybe that was just his way of feeling less guilty, believing that this is just a natural reaction rather than face the fact that his son's terrible immune system won't handle the cold and rain.

"That's right baby," the man held Theodore close, and like a moth to flame he leaned into it, craving any sort of affection and sympathy, "calm down now," his rough hands gently petted Theo's curls which were now matted with a mixture of blood, bear and sweat, "it's all okay," He moved his hand down, moving over Theodore's back in slow and rhythmic circles. "Daddy's here," testing his luck, the man moved his hand further down and gripped Theodore's buttocks firmly.

This sent reality crushing down on the poor man, this isn't okay. Nothing about a frail and sickly eleven year old kid being alone outside in the raining night in a place surrounded with dangerous wildlife is okay. No matter how hard he wants to shake the guilt off. How hard he wants to lean into this rare moment of gentleness. He can't. Not when his son is all alone. Not in a million years.

Theodore placed his hands on his boyfriend's large chest and pushed himself off his lap, getting to his feet as quickly as he can without losing his balance and running to the door as if he is a prisoner that just found the keys.

"Well fuck you too slut! I never wanted your trashy ass anyway! Go get eaten by wolves! You and your annoying ass kid!"

But Theodore had already made it outside and started the long process of running around aimlessly and yelling Fran's name at the top of his lungs. After thoroughly running through the front yard, he took a deep freezing breath and made his way into the surrounding woods where the fading moonlight didn't reach.

He quickly lit up the lighter, the rain putting out the flame before he could do anything, so he bent down, wrapping his body around it like a deer would to her fawn, and tried lighting it up again. The small flame persisted long enough for it to turn blue and be transferred onto Theodore's palm.

He extended the demonic flame infront of his face, making his eyes twinkle with otherworldly lights, he was hoping that animals would find it's strange color intimidating rather than inviting, and that Fran would recognize it as his and find him. Clearly too much faith in a silly little flame, even if it is magical in nature.

Theodore's feet got sliced and bruised by the rocks and thorns on the ground, but nevertheless he persisted, his dark fingers gripping the ancient trunks for dear life, not caring about the skin being scratched and peeled off if them.

He opened his mouth to yell for his boy, "Fraaan.." he coughed, hoping that his voice would come back, "Fra.... fuck me." His voice was gone, almost completely after the endless screaming and yelling he did this night, both while searching for Fran and the big fuckin fight that had happened before.

With no voice to speak of, Theodore felt... weak. He couldn't yell for Fran and the hope that the boy would see the flame on his own and follow it is... statistically very low. He was defeated. He failed himself, his father, Fran... everyone that can be failed.

He made his way out of the forest, he had already searched the surrounding area on foot. He had the small tiny twinkle of hope that Fran had made his way back home alone, that he really was just breathing some air. That he is now safe and cuddled underneath the blanket. Safe. And sound.

Theodore stood infront of the closed door. Body shaking from the cold rain and pain, he stood there for a while, just letting the tears silently fall down, not daring to go inside and face the truth.

"Teddy?" A small familiar voice echoed in his head, making him smile a little. He had been first given that nickname by his mom, but now that Franny used to call him that, it no longer feels... humiliating. It feels warm and comfortable, it feels like a purpose and having someone that depends on you and trusts you.

"Teddy!" The small voice came again, this time angrier, like a tiny kitten's hiss.

Is it possible that this.. isn't in Theodore's head? That Fran was actually yelling for him?

He tore his eyes away from the door and looked around, and sure enough, he easily spotted the head of white fluffy hair struggling to get out of under his boyfriend's car.

Theodore rushed to help his son get out without being scratched or injured, he held the boy's tiny hands and pulled slowly, stopping to fluff down his shirt to make the sliding easier. Once his bottom was out, his short legs were an easy task.

"Thank gawd! I thought I was gonna be stuck under there forever! Or that that bastard was gonna drive tomorrow and I'll become tomato paste!" The little boy was flailing his arms around as he spoke, finally settling for a dramatic break as while saying "tomato paste!"

He tried keeping himself composed, he really did, slowly stroked his son's curls, but quickly enough Theodore crumbled. Exhaustion, pain and all that worry that he was barely holding, finally broke him. He hid his face behind his hands as he cried uncontrollably. His drenched shoulders shaking with each painful sob.

"Teddy?" Fran asked worriedly, his soft voice kept quiet as if Theodore was a rabbit that he didn't want to scare off. "Why are you crying?"

It might seem like a stupid question given the circumstances, and if it was anyone else, Theodore would've given them the deathglare. But he knew that Franny genuinely couldn't understand the consequences of actions, wether they were his own or others. So he simply sniffled and smiled as bright as he could, resuming to fluff up his baby's hair.

Fran's face scrunched up as if he had tasted a lemon, his soft features all grouping in the middle of his face. But he didn't mind this, not really, he just found it fun to do this face because he doesn't get to often. And Theodore knows this, they spoke about this before... before this..  him.

"I wanna sleeeeeeeeeeep." Fran whined while pouting, earning him an honest chuckle from his dad.

Theodore opened his arms as his son jumped up, landing perfectly on his waiting shoulder. Fran swung his feet, accidentally hitting his father's chest a few times, not too many times tho as he was doing his absolute best to avoid it. But that swinging was making it harder for Theo to safely stand up, but he made do and made his way back indoors carrying his son like a sack of potatoes, which is the only way Franny likes to be held.

Deep in his mind, Theodore knew that this won't be the end of this abusive relationship, he was too dependent, too afraid of being abandoned and left alone to leave. But the cracks were only becoming more and more prominent, and hell was knocking on their door.

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 13

I’m alive! Here’s day 14 of @biodad-bruce-month event (even tho it ended already)!

Chapter 13: Dating/Love

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

“Wait, I could just do that?” Chat exclaimed, looking at the akuma that crumbled under his hand.

It was another day without Ladybird, but Chat and Bee were able to handle the past two akumas with ease and with little damage. 

The first time around, the duo met with Ladybird’s kwami Tikki to help purify the akuma. But after witnessing Tikki eat the akuma before spitting it right out purified...let’s just say the duo were left a bit traumatized. 

Not wanting to see that again, Chat and Bee decided to look for alternate ways to purify an akuma. Or at least get rid of them before causing more trouble.

“Wait, how did you not know?” Bee asked.

“Never tried.” Chat said with a slight shrug. “Which reminds me, I have to tell LB something after this.” 

Queen Bee noticed how Chat frowned, his eyes becoming dull. 

“You too?” Bee asked, watching as Chat’s ring was down to its last pad. 

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘you too’?” 

“I have to leave for the States in a few weeks. Something about having to keep appearances and the sorts.” Bee huffed, watching the Parisian sky starting to darken. 

“What are the odds? I also have business in the States, although it’s more about business than appearances in my case.”

“Seeing as the two of us have to tell LB, how about we tell her the news together?” Bee suggested. 

“Sounds like a plan. Although it has to wait for some other day. Right now, I have a meeting to attend, so later!”

Queen Bee watched as Chat Noir left the training grounds in a hurry, noticing the fake smile plastered on his face. 

“You’re being dragged into it too, aren’t you?”

-

“Morning.” Marinette told Adrien and Chloé, much to the surprise of everyone else in the class. 

How did the trio become friends overnight? And wasn’t Marinette best friends with Alya?

“Marinette. The sun is out, I’m having a great hair day and all you can say is morning?” Chloé huffed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Hello Marinette! Feeling any better?” Adrien decided to ignore Chloe, Marinette nodding.

“To be honest, a bit. Still got to take my medication and rest, but staying in bed won’t do me any good.” 

Amira recalled the text message she received this morning, her father asking her how she was. 

Selina had filled him in when he called back, telling him about the situation. Amira also learned of his visit through the baker’s surveillance cameras.

While she had told him that she didn’t care what he did, it hurt to see that he came to visit her. 

Then again...what right did she have to feel sad that he didn’t try to talk to her when she’s already pushed him? 

“-to Marinette. You see Adrikins? I’m telling you, she needs to stay-“

“He could’ve at least let me have known he came over.” Chloé and Adrien found Marinette mumbling, a frown on her face. 

“He? Did someone-“ Adrien started only for Miss Bustier to walk into the class and start the class. 

Chloe watched as Marinette zoned out during their first class, watching as Alya didn’t bother to check in with her supposed ‘best’ friend.

Marinette continued to zone out throughout the entire morning and then acting if nothing was wrong once lunch came around. 

It bothered Chloe so much and she didn’t know. Why did it bother her to see Marinette act as if she wasn’t in pain when it was clear as day?

-

“Ladybird!” Chat called out, snapping Bee from her thoughts. It’s been three days since she last saw Ladybird, watching as their leader greeted them with a slight smile on her face. “Feeling better?”

Deja vu much?

“Chat. Bee. I’ve been doing well. Master Fu gave me the okay to return back to patrolling despite not wanting me being here.”

“How come?” Bee asked, looking out to the Parisian skyline. Tonight, it seemed foreign. 

“One word: Hawkmoth.” Ladybird stated, watching as her partners looked at her with narrowed eyes. “If I stay for too long out of commission, not only will we be giving him more answers about the miraculous, but he’ll know our weakness.”

“But-”

“He’s probably caught up with the most recent information regarding the damage left behind from Dark Owl. Can’t exactly hide the evidence left behind at the stadium and his office.”

Ladybird watched as Bee and Chat nervously laughed at that, remembering the large pile of rust left at the stadium and the amount of tech to clean out of Principal Damocles’ office. 

“Do you think he knows about you and-” Bee started, only to stop when LB nodded.

“He might know I’m not suited for the Ladybug, but there are also other possibilities.”

“Which are?”

“I’m like him.” Ladybird bluntly stated, getting titled heads for a reaction. “I have another life outside the mask that makes me mia.” 

“Wouldn’t that apply to all of-”

“Not exactly. The two of you are mostly active, always at the scene as soon as possible. As for me, I don’t usually appear until minutes later or until halfway. That can mean many things. One, I’m a sickly person outside the mask, therefore I take longer to arrive. Or similarly, I live a little bit outside of  Paris, thus making me tardy. Third-”

“You might be an adult,” Bee stated, watching Chat look at LB with large eyes. What did he figure out?

“Or you might be someone of a high standing who can’t afford to leave their place in society to fight him, a man who has all the time to be ready to akumatize someone at a moment’s notice.”

Guess LB wasn’t expecting that answer, judging from her taken back expression.

“Right on. To think you got it on your first try.”

“Wait, you’re rich?” Bee screeched out, looking at Chat for back up. “I mean, that would explain the burner phones, the equipment at the- you have the money to buy out an entire floor!”

“Yes Bee. I’m rich, although it’s my father who’s rich and was stupid enough to forget to take away my black card.”

“You have a black card?” LB and Chat watched as Bee continued to freak out.

“What’s a black card?” Chat decided to ask, earning concerned faces from the girls. “What?”

“How do you not know what a black card is, Chat! It’s literally the symbol of being filthy rich! Not even Daddy has one!” Bee exclaimed, promptly shutting her mouth.

“You’re rich too, Bee? Wow. To think we all come from a-”

“You’re rich too?” The girls exclaimed, the trio bursting into laughter. 

The three chatted for hours, learning more about themselves. Time went on, the three kids laughing and holding their stomachs as they told tales of their past and of the present. However, Bee picked up on the way Ladybird avoided talking about her father and urged the other two to talk. 

What was she hiding?

“Does that make us the rich kid club?” Chat asked, earning a stifled laugh from LB and a ‘seriously?’ look from Bee. “What? It seems fitting!”

“As much as I’d like to continue to stay and talk, I think we should be heading home. It’s one in the morning and I have class tomorrow.” Bee and Chat nodded in agreement, the three bidding each other farewell. 

-

“So two days, huh.” Amira hummed, watching as Selina packed her bag. While it was two in the morning, Amira thought it would be best to drop by and visit Selina. The talk with her team left her in a giddy state, Amira wondering why she even came here.

“Actually, I might be leaving tomorrow evening.”

“Why?” While Amira still wasn’t particularly fond of the woman, she felt a part of her wanted Selina to stay. Perhaps it was the fact that Selina had been by her side these past few days. 

Or the denial that continued to linger in Amira. That she enjoyed Selina’s concern over her. 

While Selina was by her side, Amira didn’t have restless nights where she would wake up from dreams she couldn’t remember. But from what Sabine had told her, Amira used to have nights where she would be waking up screaming and calling out Jason’s name like a madwoman.

But ever since Selina came over, they stopped happening. “What made you-”

“The gala was pushed forward towards this month. Towards Thanksgiving.”

“Why would-”

“Dick had made the decision to push it forward after getting a phone call in regards to the main event of this year’s gala.”

“Main event?” Amira asked, now wondering what type of event caused Dick to push up the date of the gala. What event caused her father to accept the change of date from it’s usually wintery day?

“This year, Bruce was eagerly planning the main event with such pride, making sure everything was perfect to announce the main event. But then, Jason’s...Jason’s death happened and-

“The Catherine Todd Foundation.” Amira whispered, feeling her heart stop. 

That’s right. How did she forget? How dare she forget? How dare she forget her brother’s dream?

“That’s right.” Selina closed her suitcase shut. “Bruce was planning to reveal the latest Wayne foundation-Jason’s foundation- that he had planned for months.”

“That was planned...for this year’s gala?” Amira asked, feeling her mouth dry. 

Her father didn’t utter a word about it. Nor did Dick. Did...did they not-

“Amira. Amira, look at me.” Selina coaxed, cupping Amira’s face into her hands. “Dick just found out about it when he got a call about one of the sponsors. The sponsor wanted to change the date to make sure-”

“Why didn’t he tell me about it?” Amira whispered, feeling something roll down her face, salt meeting her lips. “Why did no one-”

“Amira, kitten. Dick hasn’t called you in a while, right?” A slow nod. “He’s been busy setting up the gala in your father’s steed. Bruce...your father holed himself again in his study when he found out the sponsor had called in. He...he had forgotten about it. It slipped his mind after-”

“He could’ve called me so I could’ve helped him rework the-”

“Amira.”

“I could've helped!” 

“Amira, Dick couldn’t-“

“You wouldn’t understand Selina! You don’t know-“

“I do.” Selina said softly, holding Amira’s trembling hands. “Just like you, I loved the brat to pieces.”

“You’ve...you loved Jason?” 

“Sure, we didn’t get on the right foot, but I did go to love the boy. Little brat loved to play dirty. Remember he endangered his life once just so I would catch him and make me drop my guard.”

“Sounds just about him.” Amira softly said, Selina picking up on her relaxation. “Jason liked playing dirty, no matter who he was up against. Once he popped his arm off its socket during one of our sparring lessons, which caused me to stop fighting. When I went to check on him, he popped it back in and won the match.

Even though I knew he was alright, I started bawling and hugged him. Father and Alfred came running to see what had happened and when Jason told him what he had done, Father scolded him. ‘Sometimes, you have to play dirty. A fight in Gotham will never be fair and square, old man. You, better than anyone else, should know that.’” Amira said with a smile. “He’d always use that against Father and would win his case. Or perhaps Father let him, knowing that using those tricks would help in a fight one day.”

“And it did, although it mostly grossed out Riddler when he saw Jason do that. Should’ve seen the look at his face.” Selina said with a chuckled, reminiscing that day. 

“I would rather have Jason back than wishing to have seen that.” Amira admitted, looking at Selina with unshed tears. “Jason… Jason was the glue that held us together. He was the one who brought us together, so when...when he died...we...we-” a shuddering breath escaped Amira. “We fell apart...

Dad became so broken that he began to isolate himself from us. He would shut himself in his study for hours and from what Dick told me - days! When I was still in the manor, we wouldn’t see him at dinner nor would we hear from him unless he came back home frustrated from a work meeting.

He no longer made time for us. For Dick...nor me. He allowed himself to drown in his work, both as CEO of WE and Batman” 

“Amira.” Selina softly said, wiping away the tears that had been running down Amira’s face.

“When I finally got to talk to him again...it was to tell me I was being sent to Paris.

He didn’t even let me say goodbye to anyone, not even Jason...

He was at it again. He was isolating me again, but this time to a place where I couldn’t do anything no matter what I tried. I would have no friends to help me, nor connections to help me break out of my father’s control. The only option I was left with was to obey.”

“But Amira, you have friends now. You have people you can lean on. So why? Why can’t you-”

“It was all Jason.” Amira said. “Jason managed to convince Father to let me explore the outside, not me.

Jason was the one who made Dad understand that I shouldn't be kept inside like a trophy bird. That I should be allowed to spread my wings, to grow. How did he do it? I would never know, but I wish he had shown me how.

I only knew how to yell and scream to get what I wanted. I wasn’t like Jason who proved he was right, who fought for what he deemed just.”

“Amira, you don’t have to keep-”

“I do, Selina! I do!” Amira cried, digging her hands into her hair. “My father won’t see nor talk to me otherwise if I don’t! Father never understood the damage he’s done to me unless I show it to him. He’s...he’s!”

Selina pulled Amira into a hug, feeling the girl stiffen in her hold. Selina held the girl tight against her, letting tears run down her face that she didn’t know she was holding back. 

To hear the amount of pain she was holding in, the amount of troubles she had to deal with...and to think Bruce was the cause of the majority of it. 

“Your feelings are valid Amira, your frustrations are as well. But trust me when I say, things will get better and you’re already doing a wonderful job of moving forward.” Selina began to stroke Amira’s hair when she felt Amira tremble. “It may seem as if the situation isn’t getting any better, but it is due to your efforts of wanting to change it. 

So give yourself a break and just let it all out. I’ll make sure to protect while you do.”

That was all Amira needed to let herself cry out her heart, hugging Selina back as she wailed her soul out. 

Selina drew circles on her back as she sat there, making sure to not let Amira go.  

How did Bruce let it get this bad?

-

“You’re going to the States?” Marinette asked, looking up from her calendar in her planner. 

It’s been two days since Amira last saw Selina, already missing her. It took everything in her to not beg her to stay. To not leave her...but she knew better than that. She had to leave and Amira had to respect that.

So here she was, letting her mind try to forget Selina’s warm hug and the calmness she felt when Selina hugged her.

“Yup!” Adrien said with a smile that Marinette could look through from a mile away.

“Adrien and I were both invited to some event that our parents want us to attend, something about having to keep images and whatnot.” Chloe elaborated, noticing the last Thursday in the month circled in red. What a coincidence. “As happy as I am that my mother called me, I didn’t want it to be this way.”

“At least she gave you the choice. My father is threatening me with going or not being able to leave the house again.” Adrien bluntly stated, flinching when Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Baguette, what’s-“

“He threatened you? Your father threatened you?” Chloé and Adrien could feel the murderous intent seeping from the girl. “Let me talk with-“

“Baguette! It’s alright! I told him I’ll do it on a few conditions!” Adrien practically scrambled the details out. He watched as Marinette softened a bit. 

“Conditions?”

“For starters, he’ll let me go with Chloé. No Nathalie nor Gorilla. Second, he will not be allowed to contact me nor Chloé. If I need his help or if I want to go back, I have to be the one to call him back. Third and final one, if I manage to settle a meeting between him and one of the people he told me to make contact with, he has to agree to let me do whatever I want for the rest of the year.”

“Wow Adrikins. Since when did you start stepping up towards your dad?”

“Since I realized that my so-called freedom is still being controlled. If I fully want to be free, I have to start by loosening my father’s control over me. So far, I’ve been seeing results from my efforts. I don’t plan on backing down until I fully achieve my goal.”

Marinette watched as Adrien smiles proudly, not being able to hold back her own smile. 

“Hope you reach it Adrien. I know it’ll be worth it. So then, when’s the event?”

“It’s in three weeks, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Adrien and I will be attending Wayne Gala.”

-

Ladybird looked at Bee and Chat with the same look she had given Adrien and Chloé. 

“The both of you? The two of you are going to be mia in three weeks?” Ladybird asked in disbelief, watching as the two of them rubbed the back of their heads. First Chole and Adrien and now these two? “Do you realize-“

“It’s why we’re telling you now and not later this week or next. We know-“

“Do you really?” Ladybird growled, huffing as she turned around, the Parisian night staring right back at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have-“

“No, you’re right.” Chat said, Ladybird picking up on his sorrow. “It is stupid of us to leave you-“

“Master Fu.” Ladybird casually said, looking at Bee and Chat. “I can ask Master Fu to see what I can do.”

“Master Fu?” Bee asked, looking at Chat for clarification. 

“Oh right, you’ve never heard about him. He’s the one who chooses the wielders for the miraculouses. He’s the one who chose Ladybird and me. As for you, you were recommended to be a wielder as I vouched for Rena Rouge to be a temporary holder.”

“Wait. I was recommended to-“

“I recommended Master Fu to give you a miraculous. However, that doesn’t mean I fully know your identity. I did recommend two people to become Pollen’s holder after all.” Ladybird looked at Bee who was on the verge of tears. “Guess Master Fu chose the better of the two and I’m glad he did. You’re a great partner.” 

Bee ran and threw herself at Ladybird, the two girls tumbling to the floor as Chat just stood there smiling. 

“I promise to make up for the time we miss!”

“Don’t worry about it Bee. The two of you shouldn’t worry about a thing. Everything will turn out alright. You’ll see.”

-

No. Everything didn’t turn out alright. 

The day came where Chat and Bee bid LB a temporary goodbye and Adrien and Chloe boarded a plane towards Gotham. The minute they said goodbye, Amira grew restless, uneasy. 

It didn’t help that this uneasiness traversed towards her civilian life as well. 

As she walked into the school, it felt like if everyone was watching her every move, judging her.

It was Gotham Academy all over again...

Wally had assured it that it was going to be fine, that she was worrying over nothing. 

But Amira knew better than to ignore the emptiness she felt in her chest. 

Sure, Alya talked her ears off, but Marinette didn’t like the feeling of emptiness around her despite Alya’s clear company. 

Without Chloé and Adrien, everything just seemed...off. 

She didn’t realize their importance until chemistry class. 

She watched people get into pairs as Miss Mendeleiev finished telling her instructions for today’s lab. With the clap of her hands, everyone started to pair up...except her.

“Miss Mendeleiev. I don’t seem to have a partner. If it’s alright, can I-“

“No partner?” Miss Mendeleiev asked, realizing only then that three of her students were out. “I can’t just let you do the lab by yourself Marinette. It’s unsafe.”

“Miss Mendeleiev, I am fine being on my-“

“Now, now. You know that in my lab, no one is allowed to touch the chemicals without a partner.” Miss Mendeleiev clapped her hands to get the class’ attention. “While it seems like everyone has a partner, Marinette doesn’t. Now, who would love to have her in their group or volunteers to be Marinette’s partner?” 

Marinette’s didn’t need to turn around to know no one raised their hand. 

After all, she was always doing labs with Sabrina or Alya, although this time around, Alya had promised Alix to be her lab partner. That left Marinette to be partnerless this time around. 

“So no one is going to volunteer? That’s alright. Nino, please help Marinette with this lab. Kim, join Ivan and Mylène.”

Marinette heard as Nino approached her, turning slowly to avoid seeing everyone else pity him. 

“Look forward to working with you.” Marinette said with a slight bow, only to receive nothing in return. 

Seems like this would be a long lab. 

-

Or not. 

Marinette somehow ended up talking up a storm with Nino.

“You do parkour?” Nino asked, looking as if Marinette grew a second head. “No offense, you don’t even look like the type-“

“Parkour, gymnastics and martial arts. Of course, I haven’t touched gymnastics in a while since my mentor has been busy. Doesn’t help that he’s on the other side of the world.” Marinette said, pouring the hydrogen peroxide into the water and then into the catalase test tube. She watched as the latter created bubbles. 

“Dudette, that’s amazing!” Nino exclaimed, opening up his notebook to the back of his page. 

“Dudette?” Marinette looked at the page he opened, noticing some notes about a personal project. How did she come to that conclusion? Simple. It said ‘Directed by Nino Lahiffe.’

“Ah, I should’ve asked if-“

“It’s fine. Just taken aback by the name since it’s my first time hearing it.”

“Really? What do your friends call you then?” 

“My brother calls Mimi and my friend calls me Bugette.”

“Alya calls you Bugette?” Nino asked, writing down his observations of the catalase in boiling water. 

“As much as Alya thinks she’s my friend, she isn’t quite there. And it’s Wally who calls me Bugette. He’s a friend of mine before I transferred here.” Marinette elaborated, sliding her notebook towards him. “Haven’t spoken to him in a few days though.”

“Alright class!” Miss Mendeleiev said with a clap of her hands. “At this time, start wrapping up your workstation! Make sure to properly rinse out the tubes and place them into their appropriate-“

“Marinette. Is it alright to call you dudette? Of course, if you don’t-“

“I’m fine with it.” Marinette told him with a smile. “I don’t mind being called dudette, Nino.”

-

“-only known her for 30 minutes. How can you say that she wasn’t doing all the work so that-” Marinette heard as she approached the windows that belonged to her classroom. She stopped before they could see her through the glass.

If her ears didn’t betray her, the one speaking right now was-

“Alix, she wasn’t doing all the work. We both did the lab toget-”

“She’s friends with Chloe.” Ivan added.

“How do you expect us-”

“You didn’t try to even get to know her. Yes, I also didn’t want to interact with her before being paired up with her, but now I wish I did. I wish I had talked to her earlier on in the school year and you guys should too! She’s-”

“You shouldn’t pressure others to try and talk to me Nino.” Marinette said, strolling into the classroom. “Let them take their time to try and approach me.” Marinette handed Nino a piece of paper. “I also looked into a few things you mentioned earlier and thought I should give you this. They’re always giving out free courses and workshops, so I thought I should let you know.”

Nino looked at the paper Marinette gave him and was surprised to see a list of different companies and dates in which they held workshops for upstarting directors.

Just as he was about to ask where she had gotten the information from, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next class.

-

Amira wishes she was able to escape Anansi’s punches just as quickly as she was able to bolt out the classroom earlier that day.

Amira had been trying to call Wally, trying to get any info on her two friends who should’ve have arrived at Gotham when her phone began to yell ‘AKUMA ALERT.’

So having to leave her worries behind, Amira yelled ‘SPOTS ON’ as she headed towards Hawkmoth’s latest Victim.

Rolling away from Anansi’ punches and parrying them took a toll on Ladybird, feeling the air leave her body as she was slammed onto the ferris wheel structure.

Managing to find a safe space within an alleyway, Ladybird reached for her burner phone when she was reminded of her dilemma. 

Her two partners were away...she told them not to worry…

“Here you are!” Anansi roared, striking the alleyway where Ladybird was hiding, causing the vigilante to become airborne. As Ladybird crashed onto the pavement, the transformation was called off, Tikki opening her mouth to scold Amira for dropping her transformation when she promptly closed her mouth. 

Calling her transformation off, when she crashed onto the pavement and scrambled her way towards another alley. 

“Tikki, go to Master Fu.”

“But-” Amira looked at Tikki with stern eyes.

“Tikki, go and don’t worry about me. I don’t have super strength but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.” 

“Amira.” Tikki whimpered.

“You now what we have to do. Now go!” Taking one last look at Amira, Tikki flew off.

“Please be safe Amira. Please, don’t do anything reckless.”

-

“Come on Little Bug! Is that all you got?” Anansi smugly said, cracking her knuckles as she watched Ladybird wipe off the blood that seeped from her mouth.

Spitting out a bit of blood, Amira grinned. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, something Amira didn’t know she missed dearly.

“Did you really think that was my best? Come on Anansi, I thought it was pretty obvious what was going on here.”

“What are you talking about?” Anansi growled, noticing someone land behind Ladybird. Anansi watched as Ladybird glew red and healed her wounds. “You!”

“That’s right Anansi.” Ladybird grinned. “My backup is here. Carapace!”

“On it!” Carapace yelled, throwing his shield towards Anansi.

With a simple step to the side, Anansi was able to dodge it, only to get her foot wrapped by Ladybird, slipping backward as her back connected with the ground.

Carapace tried to land a hit, but missed when Anansi rolled to the side, but was then dragged towards Ladybird.

Swinging her foot to the side, Anansi shook Ladybird off when she noticed the makeshift ring around her.

How did they set that up? Who set it up when she was bust fending of both Ladybird and Carapace.

“Up for a round Anansi? Or are you afraid of losing against someone half your size and weight?” Ladybird challenged, the smug on her face fanning the annoyance within Anansi.

“You’re on Bug. Can’t wait to beat you and show you that a bug should never mess with a spider!”

-

“Come on Anansi! I thought you said this match will be over in one punch! Oh wait a minute! You can’t even land one!” Ladybird said in a haughty tone, causing Anansi to lunge at her, sending one final punch onto the Arc de Triomphe.

Anansi felt as the ground began to shake, only then realizing the trap Ladybird set down for her.

Grabbing something from the ground, Ladybird grabbed hold of Carapace and brought them to where Alya was being held hostage. 

“Carapace, now!”

“Shellter!” Carapace yelled, shielding them as the Arc de Triomphe crumpled to the ground, trapping Anansi underneath. 

Once the debris settled and the dust settled, Anansi’s headgear appeared by Ladybird’s feet, causing Ladybird to smile. Gleefully, Ladybird slammed her yo-yo against the thing and cracked it, the akuma emerging from it.

Capturing the akuma and purifying it, Ladybird yelled her words. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Carapace watched with wonder as all the damage Anansi caused was repaired, the Arc de Triomphe restored before his eyes. “Meet me at the Eiffel Tower,” he heard Ladybird say before she swung away.

-

Ladybird stood at the Eiffel Tower, looking at the setting sun in the distance. She had yet to receive a call from-

“Ladybird! So, what do you think about-”

“Hold on Carapace.” Ladybird cut off, Carapace now wondering what was going on. “Not all of us are here.”

“All of us? But I thought-”

“Sorry for coming late!” A voice said, causing Carapace to jump.

Soon, something on the ground began to grow, the pink glow becoming bigger by the second. Emerging from the glow was a girl that seemed to resemble a mouse themed hero.

“Carapace, I’d like you to meet the other vigilante who helped us today.” Carapace remained silent as the mouse themed vigilante shyly waved at them, tucking a loose orange auburn hair strand behind her ear.

“Hi, my name is Gris. It was a great honor to work with you, Carapace. Ladybird.”

-

Pulling their luggage behind them, Adrien and Chloé scanned the welcoming area. Their flight lasted longer than what they thought it would be and they were ecstatic when they landed a few hours ago.

Their eyes landed on a gentleman with a poster board with their names on it. 

When they approached the older man, they couldn’t help but notice the faintest smile on him. 

“I presume you’re Mr.Pennyworth?” Adrien spoke up, Alfred nodding in response. 

“I am Master Adrien. It's also a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Chloé. Welcome to Gotham.”

NEXT

[forever-lynx]

two punks in love

heheee an arthuralex fic

warnings: cursing and one nsfw joke

A/N: you can also read it on ao3 here. this is also for @deimosatellite bc u have dragged me into arthuralex hell. even tho it was not deliberate i cannot claw my way out of it now smh /nm. i also know you havent been feeling well so this is my way of tryna make you feel better 

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“What the fuck is that stench?”

“I’m cooking pasta.” “That’s pasta? Are you sure you’re not tryna poison us?”

Alex huffed, “You try cooking then, Mr. I-can’t-even-microwave-popcorn.”

Arthur grumbled, “Shut the fuck up. That was one time.”

“All you had to do was wait for three minutes. You left it on for half an hour. I’m surprised the house didn’t burn down.”

“I got distracted! Let it go, you annoying ass.”

Alex hummed, “I’ll let it go once you admit you’re a shit cook and I’m better.”

Arthur scoffed, “In your dreams, princess.”

Arthur hopped on the rusty, old couch as Alex stuck his tongue out at his partner. They had been dating two and a half years and Arthur had not changed one bit. Well, perhaps that wasn’t all true – at least he had stopped trying to kill Ash, that was an improvement – but his mouth was as filthy as ever. Alex once joked that Arthur should drink soap to help keep his mouth clean. The next day, Alex saw his partner walk into the apartment with bags of soap. At least they had an endless supply of Dove soap at their disposal. 

Two and a half years into dating and a lot had changed; Arthur had his own gang again, thankfully he was a more fair leader than he used to be. He would never admit it – least of all to himself – but Arthur looked up to Ash’s leadership. Though things were still rocky between the two, it was a whole lot better than it was years ago. Ash was often away in Izumo, Japan with Eiji. In the rare occasion he would come back to New York, Arthur would consult Ash about specific businesses. Whether it was about winning back territory or drug dealing, Ash would provide Arthur with the help he needed. Of course, more often than not the two would break into a fight, but neither tried to kill each other. That was a huge improvement. 

Ash was skeptical about Alex and Arthur’s relationship at first. He suspected Arthur had an ulterior motive at hand. However, once he got to observe the two more, he realized they made each other happy. And to everyone’s surprise, Alex was the one person Arthur actually listened to. This was a relief to everyone.

“Hey, wanna see how it tastes?” Alex called out to Arthur.

Arthur shrugged, “Yeah sure, why not.”

Arthur took a fork out of their cabinet and dove into the pot. He blew on the fork, the steam of the pasta clouding his view. He brought it up to his mouth and swallowed.

Arthur smiled, “Gotta say, it tastes better than your dick.”

Alex hit the back of Arthur’s head, “Keep up with that attitude and I’ll see if you’ll ever get any again.”

"Oh come on princess, you are way too attracted to me to resist."

Alex scoffed at that, “What in the world gave you that idea?” He playfully shoved Arthur. 

Arthur shrugged, "Just a hunch." He wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist from behind, resting his chin on his partner’s shoulder. Arthur hummed, content with being close to his partner. It was rare for Arthur to show affection. It was important because it meant Arthur felt safe enough to show his vulnerable side. Unfortunately, Arthur had grown up in circumstances where showing vulnerability was viewed as weakness. Thankfully, he had learned to open up to Alex. It had taken the two of them lots of time, but it was worth it. Alex was patient with Arthur, giving him space when needed and showing him affection when Arthur felt comfortable. Arthur did the same, of course; though he wasn’t good at showing affection, he had other methods of showing he cared. He would remember Alex’s favorite park to go to during rainy days. Arthur remembered Alex’s favorite scents and bought candles accordingly. When Alex was feeling down, Arthur would take care of the entire apartment so his partner would have less work to do. He would also take Alex to his favorite restaurant so his partner would not have to cook.

Months of trying to work out their relationship, the two lovers eventually found a rhythm that fit them. It wasn't easy, for neither of them were used to a relationship. Arthur especially struggled the most – he was not good at communication. But Alex was patient. And the two truly appreciated each other and therefore did everything they could to find their flow. It had taken a long time, but it was all worth it in the end. Even though they were able to afford an old apartment, they were happy with anything as long as they had each other. 

"C'mon, grab the plates and start the TV to see if there are any movies on," Alex said.

The two ate their pasta while watching Shrek. 

"Y'know… Shrek kinda looks like you," Alex told Arthur.

"Fuck you. You look like Donkey’s ass.”

The plates and forks eventually ended up in the sink, postponed to be washed tomorrow morning.

Arthur fell asleep on Alex’s shoulder, their hands intertwined. Arthur was hissing in his sleep, occasionally mumbling nonsense threats. Alex found it endearing.

Alex placed a soft kiss on Arthur’s forehead and closed his eyes, dreaming of a future with his partner.

[theneverendingmomming]

Today at 7:50am I lost my shit! I'm overwhelmed with my apartment that don't fit us all but I can't afford a house even tho we would be paying what I would be paying to get a bigger apartment with I don't want to get because I feel like I'm wasting my money because I can afford the house but I don't have enough "credit" to get a damn house!

So I lost my shit and I made my daughter miserable just before going to school and I hate doing that to her but I get super aggravated when all her toys are in the living room/ dining room that is a one piece nothing is where it should qi can't make noise to much because my husband needs to sleep before going to work since he works nights and I have to make all this things before I go to work myself at 2pm so everything has to be done before noon so I can at 12 get ready for work and leave the house by 130 the latest since I'm working In a different area than my normal.

So when I we were leaving to drop her off to school (me and my daughter) I told her to say bye to dad and she hug him with such a love and fear of leaving him I didn't want to be that mom anymore I hate been mad and angry and sad and frustrated for something so small that made me loose my temper and tell her how she was a baby, and she has a mess and that I put so much pressure on her she's going to end up not liking me and stop talking to me and honestly I dont blame her.

By the time we got in the car those steps going down to the car and the air I finally felt better not overwhelmed because I was not in the house anymore it sounds stupid but my mood change so drastically.

We got in the car we talk about what are we doing tomorrow instead of what we did today so hopefully we get a better system.

Today I fail as a mom but I hope tomorrow gets better thats my thought in the car. She got off and I told her have a nice day and to run as fast as she could since she had gym today. But her look said I hate you! Why do you had to take me to school!

I got home and talk to my husband (more in distress almost like a yell but it's more like I talk louder thinking it's going to make th see me thats my style when I get frustrated) so I started telling him how overwhelmed it is to live like this the place is a mess! We just got a safe and the cardboard box is still in my living room the clothes from laundry day is everywhere, the toys like we already talk about are everywhere and all the bins are empty because our daughter decided to take all her toys out.

He then tells me calm that this is the last time I talk to her in the morning (now I feel worst that I did before) I know he was angry I can see it and he gets I'm aggravated he tells me you need to figure your self out and that broke me because I been knowing that I don't know who I am since a long time even by the time I got to him I was not me anymore.

He reassures me that he loves me after me leaving the room and that I need to take it easy not to do list in my head. But you see I do list in my head since I was a kid I need it a routing other wise things would get bad I would be cranky and mad I never was allowed to not have something g to do and eventually thats the thing that keep me a live for years the routine and work because I know people depend on me to show up for work.

So it's difficult for me not to not have a list in my head at all time it's need it in order for me to keep myself out of self harm I haven't think about it since I made it a point to have a list to survive life

It's that I fall in a deep depression where I won't be able to move and I sleep for days

So yes I might not remember who I am but remember the things that keeps me a live. But that fucks with my daughter and my relationship with my husband because of my daughter.

I hate it here and I don't mean where a live it's a nice apartment small but nice I hate the fact I can't control the emotion of overwhelmed and I can't get out of the cycle of hurting my child make her hate me and don't like me to the point when she grows up she won't want me in her life and that's not what I want. I want her to be here with me be able to help her with whatever she needs at any time in her life whether is with a small problem to bailing her out if need it.

Tomorrow will do better for her today I just get to finish the list in my head and start back tomorrow when I get home from work so hopefully it's a better day.

[unsettledink]

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Home Is Where The Heart Is {Pt. 1}

Fandom: Far Cry 5 

Characters: Seed Brothers x Serah (OFC) 

Story Type: Series 

Series Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, death, violence, romance, fluff, polygamous relationship, abuse, smut, slight dub-con, religious themes, kidnapping, brain-washing, Stockholm Syndrome & Lima syndrome, some elements of the games is used (locations, story/timeline, etc).

Chapter Warnings: None!

Word count: 2.3k words

Story Summary: Serah is a young woman living in Fall’s End, Hope County and has lived there all her life. She owns her own farm and B&B, nothing very exciting ever happens in Fall’s End - except for the occasional chaos caused by Sharky Boshaw. That is until one day, three men show up with a broken down car and seeking a place to stay. Serah, being the kind and caring person she is, lets these men into her home with open arms, but she truly doesn’t know what she has invited into her life. 

A/N: each chapter will have specific chapter warnings/trigger warnings at the beginning to help those who would get triggered to know what is about to happen in each chapter. I wouldn’t want to trigger anyone tho ;w; Other than that, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter 1 and updates to this story will be slow though. I know this first chapter is short but make sure to show it some love so I know y’all like it and I can continue it!! Gif is not mine btw~

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Hope County was never really busy or loud; it was mainly quiet and peaceful. People could leave their windows and doors unlocked during the nights because no major crimes were ever committed, and the fact that Hope County only had a small amount of law enforcement because of the low crime rate. 

Hope County was the perfect place for Serah. Serah had lived in Fall's End for nearly seven years, and her life has never taken a turn for the worst while living on her farm. She owned a few cows, chickens, pigs, and horses that she tends and cares for. Her large farmhouse has also been renovated to be Fall's Ends very own 'Bed & Breakfast'; getting the occasional tourist here and there, or sometimes it's a local needing a little change in scenery. Serah's main customer is Sharky Boshaw. 

Sharky liked to cause a little trouble, otherwise, Hope County would be too quiet. Whenever Sharky was too drunk to go home, he always managed to walk to Serah's farm and keep her company while tending to him. Serah was also good friends with Kim and Nick Rye, the couple being her closest friends since she moved to Montana from New York. Serah wanted a change of scenery herself, and she always dreamed of owning her own farm and 'B&B'. 

It was a warm morning when Serah woke up in the early hours on a Saturday. She groaned a bit, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and giving her muscles a good stretch before leaving the confines of her bed. Most of her farm chores were done the day before, so only a few small chores were left remaining. Serah planned to go to The Spread Eagle to visit Mary May, another good friend of hers from when she first moved to Fall's End and worked at the bar for four years. 

As Serah was doing some dusting around the house with only having to hang out the laundry after, she was excited to get a move on and get it finished. 

"C'mon, Serah, nearly done then we can have drinks to wash the stress away." 

Serah couldn't wait to relax before Monday began; the only days she really lets loose is on the weekends with Mary May, and sometimes Sharky if he hasn't already been drinking and passed out somewhere. When the chores were done, Serah took a quick shower to freshen up and put on a cute white, lace sundress that had a deep neckline that flashed a bit of her cleavage and stopped just above her knees. 

Serah parked her car in the parking lot before pushing through the bar doors, looking around at the few patrons already there just before 1 p.m. When she approached the bar, Mary May was quick to greet her. 

"Hey, beautiful! Just finished all the chores on the farm, yeah?" 

"You have no idea..." Serah gave a dramatic sigh of relief while Mary just laughed. 

"Don't worry, sweetie! Maybe you could ask one of the boys to help you out around that big farm of yours. You probably need to hire some farmhands, otherwise, you're gonna get tired and grey from stress." Mary May was very motherly for someone who was only a few years older than Serah. 

"You know I would if I had the money, Mary. I can't afford to hire farmhands while paying my bills, groceries, and animal feed. I'd either go broke or couldn't pay them enough to keep around." Serah shrugged before getting comfortable at the bar, trying to decide what drink she'd want to order first. 

Serah ordered herself a Bourbon and Coke while conversing with Mary and a few other patrons, having the day pass slowly and having a good time. It wasn't until two in the afternoon that Serah thought about heading back to the ranch. She asked Mary if she could leave her truck in the parking lot, which Mary said yes and that she didn't need to ask, while Serah called Nick for a lift. 

Serah didn't have to wait for Nick long; he came under less than 2 mins and picked her up. 

"Hey there, Serah! You have a good time?" Nick asked while he headed towards the ranch. 

"Oh yeah, I had a few drinks to help unwind. It's been a rough few days working, but I got everything done. Maybe I'll get a few new guests or Sharky might just crash at mine whenever he's too drunk to go home." Nick and Serah both laughed at the thought. 

Nick and Serah had a sibling bond; Nick was like an older brother and Serah being younger. Serah met Nick when she turned 21 and had her first drink at the Spread Eagle, where she was introduced to Nick and Kim Rye, then five years later, she was basically another Rye in their eyes. She had a second family after losing both her parents to cancer when she was 19. Nick and Serah even got tattoos of each other's names that Nick claims 'Now you're a Rye! You're now my little sister'. The memory always brings tears of pride and joy to Serah's eyes. 

Nick parked in front of Serah's ranch before hugging her tight. 

"You know, you could always ask me to help you out if things are too much, sis." 

"I know that Nick, but I couldn't possibly ask of that from you when Kim is this far along in her pregnancy. She'll need your help more than me. She could give birth next month or so." Serah tried to reason, but Nick just scoffed. 

"Kimmie is a tough son of a bitch, every time I offer to help her, she tells me she can do it herself. Trust me, I have plenty of free time to help you out." Nick gave Serah a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before she hopped out of his car, waving him goodbye and watched him drive away. 

With a sigh, Serah walked back into her home and started to plan out what to make for dinner. She heard the soft sound of her white cat, Alpine, purring away in his perch at the window sill, the sun coating him with warmth. 

"Hey there, Alpine, did ya miss me?" Serah giggled as she walked by him, scratching behind his ear as she went. 

*2 hours later* 

Serah always had a habit of making large portions of food as if other people lived in the two-story house. She couldn't help it, Serah just created that much food so she wouldn't have to worry about making more the next day. She guessed that it was because she would have to cook for the guests when they stayed at her 'B&B' and she just can't help it. While she let the chicken and corn soup to simmer, she started to get Alpine's food ready because she knew he'd become needy soon. 

"Alright, buddy, you'll be having some delicious prawns, your favorite!" Serah sang as Alpine came rushing over and meowing loudly at the smell of the prawns. 

As Serah put the prawns into a small bowl and placed it on the floor near the kitchen island, she heard the sound of a slam and a muffled, angry voice followed by a calmer voice. Serah's curious mind got the better of her and snooped near the front window and peeked out through her translucent curtains to see what the commotion was. There was a black SUV parked on the side of the road, small amounts of smoke coming from the hood while three men stood around the front of the car. One of the men had red hair and beard with scars covering parts of his face and forearms; he was the one who was angry at the fact that their car must have broken down while the two other men stood around letting the redhead vent. One of the other men was dressed in very luxurious clothes and had many tattoos covering his arms and hands, and he also sported a beard. The other man had his hair in a bun, wore yellow-tinted glasses, and looked to be trying to calm the scarred man. 

Serah was still in a daze by watching the men that she hadn't realized that the men had noticed her house, and one of them was making their way to her front door. The sudden sound of knocking on her door startled Serah out of her daze and she quietly made her way to the front door. When she made sure her little latch lock was in place, she opened the door slightly to greet the man with the tinted glasses and man-bun. 

"Hello my child, my name is Joseph, and my brothers and I happen to be in a bit of a predicament. It seems our car has broken down and we don't know how to fix the issue, would you happen to know of anyone who knows mechanics?" The man said. 

Serah blinked for a few seconds, registering what he had said. 

"Oh!" You looked at your little wristwatch to see that the time was now 4:30 in the afternoon and that the closest mechanic store is at least 45 minutes away and closes at 5 o'clock. "Um, the closest mechanic is nearly an hour away, and they'll be closing soon, so you won't be able to see them until tomorrow." 

"That is quite alright. I also saw that this loving ranch was a 'Bed & Breakfast', would my brothers and I be able to seek refuge here for the night until one of us are ready to walk into town?" Joseph gestured to the two other men still standing by the SUV who were looking at them from afar. 

"Oh, of course! And because of your circumstances, I won't charge you; I'd feel bad if I did. Save your money for when you get your car fixed." Serah gave him a warm smile, unlatching the lock on the door and opening it wide. 

Joseph motioned for his brothers to come forth while he continued to talk to you. 

"That is very kind of you, my dear. May I ask, what is your name? It's silly of me for not asking our host's name." 

She then made way for the three men to enter her house and they huddled in the open space living room. 

"My name's Serah, and I'll be your host. I've got some chicken and corn soup that's just settling and will be ready to serve. I also have spares bedrooms upstairs if you'll follow me!" Serah led the three men to the rooms and let them choose a room for themselves while also being introduced to the two men, John and Jacob. 

Jacob was the eldest Seed brother while Joseph was the middle child, and John being the youngest. Jacob served in the army and was a hardened soldier; John used to be a lawyer while Joseph claims to be 'The Father'. He preached about the gifts of God and how God would occasionally speak to him or give him visions about 'the Collapse'. Serah was never really religious; she never cared for religion but never stopped anyone who did. She politely listened to Joseph talk about this 'Project at Eden's Gate' and how he and his brothers have come to Hope County to save as many people as he can before the collapse because that is what God has told him. 

Serah started to serve the Seed brothers the soup when John spotted Alpine walk into the dining area. 

"Oh, and who is this little guy?" John asked while petting the white feline. 

"That's Alpine; he was a stray when I found him as a kitten. He was so small and malnourished, but he stole my heart the second I saw him. He's my little fur baby." Serah picked Alpine up into her arms and cuddled him for a bit. 

The four of them ate, Joseph and Serah doing most of the talking, John contributing now and then while Jacob grunted in acknowledgment. Joseph talked more about Eden's Gate then asked where would be the best place to buy a property big enough to host sermons for him and his followers or 'children' as he called them. Serah answered as many of Joseph's questions but told them that they would have to see sheriff Whitehorse about getting a license to carry when John asked about that. 

When dinner was over, Serah grabbed all the empty bowls and was prepping to wash them when John stopped her. 

"Please, you've cooked and let us rest for the night for free, the least we could do is wash the dishes. Go and relax, dear." 

Serah gave him a sweet smile, nodded, and thanked him before heading for the living room to read a book. Jacob seemed to already have worked out the TV remote, and he and Joseph were flicking through the channels. The sat in silence with only the noise of the dishes being washed in the kitchen to fill in as background noise. The rest of the evening went by with small talk and watching whatever is on TV before the Seed brothers and Serah bid goodnight to each other at around ten. 

As Serah was about to enter her room, she was stopped by Joseph yet again. 

"I'd like to thank you again, Serah. It seems God has led us to you, and to be blessed with your kindness and hospitality. Hopefully, in weeks to come, we'll see you again. Goodnight, dear." With that, Joseph went into his room, leaving Serah in the little hallway who was touched by his words. 

As Serah did her nightly routine and hopped into bed, she had a nightmare of an explosion and the world on fire.

~

Thank you for reading this short chapter!

[ghost-in-the-hella]

19 with Victoria Chase and Chloe?

For whatever reason, I can’t seem to keep chaseprice stories short! Sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s worth it. I also immediately thought chaseprice when I saw that prompt (“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”), so thanks for being on the same page with me there :) Unbeta’d and virtually unrevised despite how long it took me to write it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Content warnings for misogynistic insults, underage drinking and drug use, and implied attempted sexual assault. Because teens in Arcadia Bay are awful to each other.

---

Chloe hasn’t seen Rachel since the first hour of the party. She stopped even getting texts from her about twenty minutes ago. She can already feel the familiar shapes of the argument they’re going to have tomorrow morning. Chloe will accuse Rachel of ditching her and ignoring her texts. Depending on how pissed she is, she might trot out the old dead horse about being abandoned by Max and flog that for a bit while Rachel fails to keep from rolling her eyes. Then Rachel will remind her about their agreement, that they’re both free agents and maybe if Chloe acted more like a free agent and less like a cuckolded wife she wouldn’t be so pissy all the time.

It’ll go back and forth for hours with Chloe whining about her abandonment issues and Rachel claiming that Chloe’s suffocating her, and at the end of it nothing will have changed. They’ll kiss and make up like they always do, but as soon as the next Vortex Club event comes around Rachel will insist on dragging Chloe and then she’ll ditch her in a crowd of people she hates and the whole cycle will start over again.

The whole thing is fucking exhausting, and Chloe’s sick of it. 

Not as sick as Victoria Chase is, though; damn. It’s a hell of a sight: the Queen Bitch of Blackwell teetering drunkenly on ill-advised high heels - possibly only still on her feet because of the bodies of people dancing around her - and looking like she’s contemplating puking in her purse. She looks awful. 

It would be more amusing if Rachel were there to make fun of her with Chloe. It would also be more amusing if it weren’t so painfully pathetic. Chloe’s way too sober to enjoy the sordid spectacle. Being the designated driver sucks ass, especially when the literal whole point of these parties is to get wasted. 

Chloe almost jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly - finally - buzzes in her pocket.

Rachel: U still at the party?

Chloe scowls at her phone.

Chloe: of fucking course i am

Chloe: where else would i be??

Chloe: im ur fucking dd

Rachel: o right! Srry I already caught a ride

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Rachel: c u 2morro tho

Rachel: 2 whales date? Not 2 early tho

Rachel: this hangover’s gona be a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch

Rachel: luv u <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

Rachel: xxx 

Rachel: ;P

Chloe buries her phone in her pocket, fuming. She can actually feel the anger rising off of her skin like steam. Obviously there’s no reason for her to continue being a designated driver if Rachel’s already fucked off with whatever Blackwell jock or cheerleader she’s decided to rail tonight. Chloe’s free to crash on the couch tonight with the rest of the drunk losers. Pass out in the bathtub maybe. There’s tons of booze in the kitchen; she should start there. Stoners are usually in the basement; they shouldn’t be hard to sniff out. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find the folks who’re always doing coke in some random bedroom or office and score a noseful. It’s not like she’s got classes in the morning. She can afford to live a little, as long as she’s not actually paying for it.

Chloe starts to push her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

“Watschh where yrr fffuckin goin…” slurs a messy but recognizable voice as a hand grips Chloe’s upper arm.

Jesus Christ, Victoria’s even more wasted than Chloe thought at first glance. Her hand on Chloe’s arm might be the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, which is the only reason why Chloe doesn’t immediately tear herself away. 

“Careful, Vicky; poverty might be contagious.” Chloe attempts to pry Victoria’s fingers from around her arm to no avail.

The idiot jock standing behind Victoria laughs at that, but Victoria just looks confused. And drunk. So very, very drunk.

“Ffffug you, Chhhloe,” Victoria slurs out.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must be shitfaced. That was practically my real name!” She carefully shoves Victoria back off of her arm as the jock moves to steady Victoria by holding onto her waist.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, leaning close to her ear. He grins at Chloe and winks like he thinks she’s in on some kind of conspiracy with him, which immediately pisses Chloe off. “I’ve got it from here,” he informs her.

Victoria groans something inarticulate and tries to push the jock away, but she ends up just stumbling back into his stupidly broad chest. She really shouldn’t get so drunk and wear such high heels at the same time; clearly, it’s a dangerous combination.

“Dude, I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Chloe says as calmly as she can. She really doesn’t want to get involved. She wants to get drunk and stoned and so blitzed out of her mind that she forgets all about being pissed at Rachel. She doesn’t want to get sucked into whatever drama Victoria’s got brewing tonight. But she also really doesn’t want to watch a drunk girl get mauled by some entitled meathead, even if said drunk girl is a royal pain in her ass. 

“Nah, she’s good. Just needs some fresh air. C’mon, Tori, let’s go for a walk.”

“Don’ ffffuggin call me Tori,” Victoria growls, tugging her arm out of his too-firm grip and nearly falling right off her ridiculous and undoubtedly overpriced heels. “Iss Victoria.”

The creep ignores her and tugs on her arm again, toppling her into his body once more. “It’s cool,” he attempts to assure Chloe. “We’re friends. I’ll get her home safe.”

“She definitely doesn’t want to go with you. Let her go.”

“Dude, be cool! She’s just being a bitch. You know what Tori’s like.” He holds Victoria’s wrists to curtail her squirming.

“Fuggoff!”

Chloe cracks her knuckles loudly enough to get the jock’s attention. “I’ve got better things to do with my left hand tonight than break it on your nose, but if you don’t unhand her in the next five seconds I’ll do it anyway.”

That gives the jock pause, but he doesn’t look like he quite believes her. “You wouldn’t.”

Chloe shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Logan why his nose slants to the right? Although he’ll probably lie. Ask his ex-girlfriend; she’ll tell you the truth.”

---

As Chloe guides a stumbling and incessantly bitching Victoria through the dark toward her truck, she silently curses every decision in her life that led her to this moment. It’s actually not that different from drunk-walking Rachel home after a party, except that when Victoria keeps touching her boob it’s probably accidental. Probably.

“Where’ss Nathan?” Victoria whines, head lolling onto Chloe’s shoulder and smearing a healthy quantity of expensive makeup into her favorite Firewalk shirt. Which is fine. Not like Chloe can’t just steal another one next time they have a 2010 tour. Time travel’s a thing, right?

“I have no idea where Prescock is. Surprised he’s not doing shots out of your cleavage.”

Victoria’s trying to text, but she keeps almost dropping her phone. “Where are theese bisches?” Victoria grumbles as her manicured fingers jab and swipe at the screen of her phone with the dexterity of a toddler with two handfuls of butter. “Sposdt to be my frens…” 

Victoria’s entire focus is on her phone when it should really be on walking. Chloe tugs her upright and tries to steer her for the umpteenth time. “Can it wait til we’re in the truck at least?”

Victoria grinds to a halt and finally tears her eyes from her phone. “M’not gedding into that… that…” Victoria flails at Chloe’s truck and nearly falls over. “Deathtrap.”

“You had to get a tetanus shot to live in the dorms, right? You’ll be fine.” Chloe grips Victoria’s elbow with one hand to keep her upright and wrangles the passenger door open with the other. “Go on, get in.”

Victoria glares at Chloe foggily. “Are you khhidnappng me, Price?”

“...That’s a joke, right?”

Victoria whacks Chloe solidly in the sternum with her phone. “B’cause I’ll haf you know, my frens will put your assss in jail like that.” Victoria tries and fails to snap her fingers, then stares at them as if she cannot comprehend why they are not obeying her.

Chloe rubs at her sore sternum in annoyance. “Yeah, well, maybe your ‘frens’ should be the ones getting your drunk ass safely back to the dorms instead of abandoning you and letting random creepers paw at you. Then maybe I could get my drunk on in peace instead of wasting my weekend cleaning your puke out of my truck.”

Chloe’s expecting some pushback. Victoria hasn’t even touched her truck, much less puked in it. What she isn’t expecting is for Victoria to shove her phone in Chloe’s face. “You texx thm.” Victoria reaches for the door handle, yanks the door open, and unsteadily clambers into Chloe’s truck.

“Ow, what the fuck! You want me to text your friends?”

“Tell’m yer kidnappin me.”

“Uh, okay, no, I’m not doing that. But I can text your friends if there’s someone you’d rather get a ride with.”

Chloe carefully shuts Victoria’s door and walks around her truck to the driver’s side, thumbing through Victoria’s message history. She tries Nathan first, even though she can see that Victoria’s last ten messages to him have gone unanswered.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Nathan: whothFUCKisthis

Victoria: a good samaritan. seriously tho your friend is halfway to passed out, can you help?

Nathan: fuckoffBITCH

Victoria: god why does victoria even like you?

She tries Courtney next.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Courtney: I don’t know, can Victoria not call my boyfriend a MAN WHORE?

“We’re 0 for 2, Victoria. What’s the name of that blonde girl you’re always hanging around with?”

“Sweetie…”

“Um, what?”

“Goddddd you’re fuckn incomph-- incump-- incompetant. Sweet. T.”

“I have no idea what you’re-- Oh.” Jesus, the girl is literally in Victoria’s phone as Sweet-T. Gaaaaaaayyyy. 

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Sweet-T: Victoria? Victoria Chase?

Sweet-T: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Sweet-T: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sweet-T: Tell that bitch good luck. 

Sweet-T: Actually wait don’t.

Sweet-T: Tell her to choke.

Sweet-T: Btw Taylor lost her phone.

“Uhh, looks like ‘Sweet-T’ lost her phone. And it’s fallen into the hands of someone who completely hates your pretentious ass; no big surprise there.”

Chloe starts texting Victoria’s contacts at random as Victoria sulks. Most people don’t even respond. The responses she does get are… not encouraging.

Zach: sup biiiiiiiiiiitttcccccccchhhhhh yeah i’ll give vicky a ride ON MY DICK

Hayden: new fone who dis

Brooke: Who is this and how did you get my number? Don’t ever text me again.

Dana: I gott a ride w Jules srry

Juliet: Already back at the dorms. Good luck I guess. 

Logan: fukk that bisch wut

“Well, Victoria, looks like none of your friends are coming to help. So you can either let me give you a ride back to campus, or you can pass out on a couch inside and hope for the best.”

“What th hell djou say to them??”

“Just that you needed a safe ride to the dorms. That’s all.”

“Bullsshhhitt. You pissed them off.”

Chloe laughs out loud at that. “I pissed them off?? You pissed them off by being a gigantic asshole!”

“M’ noddan asshole.”

“Oh, no? Well…” Chloe holds up Victoria’s phone and waves it in front of her face. “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Which is how Chloe ends up comforting a sobbing Victoria Chase in a stranger’s driveway and wishing she’d never been born.

---

Chloe: dude. Srsly. Fuck u for abandoning me at that fucking vc party.

Rachel: chloe?

Rachel: wat timesit?

Rachel: w happnd?

Chloe: its 3am

Chloe: and victoria FUCKING chase is passed out on me

Rachel: ur joking

Rachel: omg

Rachel: pls take a pic

Chloe: this isnt funny rach

Rachel: it’s fucking hilarious!

Chloe: its SAD.

Rachel: Wait so

Rachel: did you fuck her?

Chloe: WHAT????

Chloe: NO!!!!!

Rachel: Oh good bc I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to clean your soul after fucking victoria chase

Chloe: she’s drunk AF

Chloe: her friends ditched her 

Chloe: and i kinda called her an asshole

Chloe: so she cried on my shoulder until she passed out

Chloe: and now i’m trapped

Rachel: Poor baby.

Rachel: Chew your arm off?

Chloe: not funny.

Rachel: Again, totally funny.

Chloe: Srsly tho, what should i do???

Rachel: idk

Rachel: sneak out?

Chloe: we’re in my truck

Rachel: hahahahahahahaha

Rachel: of course you are

Rachel: so wake her bitch ass up!

---

Victoria Chase snores. Nothing in the world could have prepared Chloe for that knowledge. She also drools, which is unfortunate for the state of Chloe’s jacket. Not that it’s the cleanest thing in the world anyway, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.

Victoria’s normally immaculate hair is in a state of total chaotic disarray. At least half of her makeup is gone, and what remains is smeared artlessly all over her face. She smells like a brewery. Chloe’s arm has fallen asleep under the weight of her head. Chloe envies it. The sweet release of sleep would be infinitely preferable to the intense awkwardness of being conscious right now.

The moonlight paints Victoria’s face in delicate shades of pale, highlighting the refined angles of her cheekbone, her jawline, her nose. She’s snoring and drooling and messy and the most utterly awful person; it shouldn’t be possible for her to be beautiful in this moment.

And yet. And yet.

Chloe should shove her awake. She should push Victoria off her shoulder, buckle up both of their seatbelts, and deposit her safely back at the dorms (because even though Victoria’s an objectively horrible person, that doesn’t mean that Chloe is). Chloe should abandon ship, let Victoria sleep it off in the front of her truck while Chloe returns to the party and drinks until she can’t remember what Victoria looks like in the moonlight. Maybe if she drinks enough, by the time she’s sober enough to drive Victoria will have sobered up and found her own way home.

Victoria makes a sleepy sort of grumbling sound and shifts against Chloe’s shoulder, draping an arm over Chloe’s middle and snuggling close. Her hair tickles Chloe’s neck and jaw as it sticks out at peculiar angles, and Chloe wants to laugh or possibly die. There’s really nowhere else for Chloe’s arm to go, so it ends up wrapped around Victoria. Victoria lets out a sound that’s disturbingly close to a contented sigh.

“Hey... Vic?”

“Mphgmhm?”

“Um… Are you aware that you’re cuddling me like I’m your long-lost childhood teddy bear?”

“Grhmphgm.”

“Uh. ‘Kay. Long as you know.”

“Mphkm.” Victoria nuzzles into Chloe’s shoulder, squeezing her tighter. Chloe awkwardly pats her side and Victoria sighs again.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about what I said before. I mean, not about you being an asshole, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie. But about your friends. I’m… sure your friends do like you, really.”

Victoria shrugs a little, frowning delicately. “Dsnmttr. Sleeb.”

Sleep. Okay. That’s theoretically possible. Chloe’s slept in more uncomfortable positions in this very truck, after all. So she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of her seat, and she listens to the steady rhythm of Victoria’s breathing until the world begins to fade into a comforting void.

Shit’s going to be awkward in the morning. But, well. That can wait until the morning.

[khazadspoon]

Day 6. Reincarnation/Wedding

Okay so this is... self indulgent. I mean everything I write is self indulgent but whatever. Continuing the modern au thing tho may stray from that tomorrow and just write this au in snippets for my own amusement. BOP.

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

Comparing the two events is probably impolite in some way. The wedding of Wangji and Wei Wuxian had been small, family and friends only, and with just the necessary speeches so the two lovebirds could disappear as soon as they could. It had been emotional and lovely but hardly extravagant. 

The wedding for Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan however…

The venue was large and lavishly decorated. Gold and red adorned each wall, ribbons and banners hanging from every available surface. There were candles and porcelain, collections of the most exquisite dinnerware Lan Xichen had ever seen, all matching and beyond any price tag even his rather well-off family could dream of affording. Waiters and staff seemed to glide about the rooms with trays of decadent drinks and food, even graciously bowing when requests for anything not on display were made. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Nie Mingjue said from his side. “Why does it need to be this big? It took long enough for the man to propose in the first place!” He made an unimpressed sound and crossed his arms, the fabric of his shirt clinging delightfully to his muscles. Lan Xichen was happy to simply stare for a few moments and ignore the whole palaver. He was drawn from his examination of what might have been the peak of Mingjue’s nipple by the man’s amused laugh. “Something distracting you?”

Xichen flushed and laughed, leaned against Mingjue’s side and toyed with the cuff of his own white shirt. “Perhaps. Do you have something against Jin Zixuan?” He asked instead of falling into the flirtatious trap. 

His partner shrugged his wonderfully broad shoulders, nearly distracting Xichen again. “Not personally, no. His father is a bastard, though, and I hope I never get the privilege of meeting him.” 

“If he gives that bad of an impression, I certainly hope I never do either.”

The ceremony had ended at least two hours ago, and with no clocks to tell the time and his phone battery long since depleted, Xichen could only guess at the time. They wandered about, Mingjue parting from him with a brief kiss to his cheek to find Huaisang, and Xichen tried to find a quiet corner away from the damned orchestra the Jin family had hired. 

At the far end of the room was an alcove. It looked as though there had been a curtain across it at one point, though Xichen could see a table behind the half-drawn back fabric. He saw a chair and went to sit down. As soon as he crossed the line of the curtain his breath left his lungs in a rush. 

A man, older than Huaisang by a few years but still younger than Xichen, sat at the table. His dark hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, wavy bangs framing the delicate curve of his jaw. His eyes were wide and dark with lashes so long they looked almost false. Xichen couldn’t stop himself staring at the plush lips, the high cheekbones, and was shocked by the sharp flash of fear that swept across the features before being replaced with what he could only describe as a mask. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll just-” Xichen began, not wanting to leave but feeling he should. 

The man stood and bowed, his short stature only depleting as he did. “No, please stay. I should go before someone notices anyway.”

The voice caught him off guard. 

He knew that voice. 

Recent memories of midnight phone calls, hours of quiet discussion, the gentle ring of laughter in his ear and affectionate compliments filled his mind. He saw his hand reach out and hold the man’s arm to lift his gaze. 

“Meng Yao?” He nearly whispered. A flash of recognition filled those large eyes “I- It’s me, Lan Xichen.”

Meng Yao, and it was certainly him, stared at him for a long moment. “Xichen,” he breathed. The anxiety on his face relaxed, an honest smile brightening his features until Xichen nearly had to look away. “Why are you- How are you-!” A laugh bubbled from his lips and Xichen laughed with him. 

He let his hand rest on Meng Yao’s arm a little longer and urged him to sit down. “I was invited. I am, I suppose, related to the bride by marriage.”

Meng Yao nodded, his eyes not leaving Xichen’s. “I had heard something about a wedding recently, but I thought the name must have been a coincidence. I…” He paused and shivered, his eyes bright with some nameless emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here, in front of me.”

Lan Xichen took his hands and held them, felt the softness of his skin and how small they felt. He felt his hands shaking as the reality of it dawned on him. It felt as though he had been there before - someone who was hurt, set aside, and only he was willing to take notice. The thought was ridiculous but it stuck at the front of his mind. 

“How about we leave?” He asked quickly, eager to take Meng Yao away from the parade outside. “We could find somewhere to talk. To talk properly.”

Meng Yao’s face brightened. He smiled, wide and open and it was almost too much for Xichen to take. “I’d like that,” he responded with a waver in his voice. 

“Meet me outside in ten minutes. I just need to tell someone I’m leaving.”

Reluctantly, he let go of Meng Yao’s hands and went to find Mingjue. This would take a little explaining.

[omega-deku]

So I would love to progress on my art and try comics any tips? ÙwÚ

Hi! I’m so sorry about the late reply. D: I hope you don’t mind if I take this opportunity to address all the anon messages about how we can improve as artists. 

I have a tough time answering this question because there is so much I need to learn. I’m super flattered that some of you feel that my art is good enough to ask me for tips, first of all!! So thank you, guys.

It’s a struggle because I only recently started taking up art again. So I’ve forgotten a lot of the things. So I’m probably not the best person to ask about this.

I used to draw all the time as a kid, but after high school, I stopped drawing. I stopped drawing for almost a decade, pretty much. I really regret it. I feel like I could have come such a long way if I did keep going. My parents really discouraged me from pursuing art, even just as a hobby, too. Even when I left home (I’m back now tho), my ex-spouse, greatly discouraged me from doing art too. I mean, “proper” art. They told me my art wasn’t “real art” because it’s not studio art, it’s “sellout” art, like anime/cartoons/fanart. I had even worse self-esteem as I do now, and I listened to them and gave up. I convinced myself I hated drawing. 

Please don’t deny yourself things that make you feel engaged and connected. If drawing makes you feel good, if it makes you not realize how much time has passed and makes you feel like you’re accomplishing things, even little by little, please don’t stop. Even if you suffer from depression and feel like things like this are pointless, remember that just doing things in general will help you. Drawing is an awesome way to get into the flow state. To me personally, it’s almost like a meditative state and I find it helpful in dealing with chronic pain and mental health issues. 

Anyways, I’ll try to compile some advice sort of things.

ART IN GENERAL

1. Draw what you enjoy! I think the most important thing is to draw what you like. It’s okay if it’s “dumb stuff”. Draw your favorite characters or pairings from your favorite tv shows if that tickles your fancy! You’re much more likely to be spending more time drawing if you’re drawing stuff you like. And as long as you’re drawing, you’re improving. (But still, challenge yourself and get out of your comfort zone!)

Especially for those of you who are planning to pursue art as a career, it’s essential that you don’t view practicing art as a chore. 

2. Draw from life. If you really want to take your art to the next level, drawing from life is vital! I think many of us have come across artists who are just amazing, but there are things that look a little “off”. For example, the anatomy doesn’t look quite right, or the perspective is a little wonky. Things like that can be a tell that they’ve learned to draw from other people’s art rather than from life. Or just haven’t practiced the basics enough. (My art isn’t amazing or anything close to that lmao, but it definitely suffers from this. I need lots of life drawing practice.)

There is nothing wrong with learning from your favorite artists, but to really train your “artist’s eye”, you need to strip away all the stylistic choices and go back to the basics. Training that Eye is one of the most crucial things you could do as an artist. 

Just take a piece of paper, a pencil and start drawing what you see. If you can, take figure drawing classes at your local community college, or draw the animals you see at the zoo. Sit on a bench and draw the scenery in front of you. Over time, you’ll start to recognize common patterns, simplify/think of things in terms of lines and shapes.

If you can’t afford a class or have the ability to go outside easily, drawing from photographs can be the next best thing. (See the Resources below for an online figure drawing tool.) I’m not experienced enough to definitively say why this isn’t the #1 idea, but from what I hear, there are things that you’ll miss out on, such as subtle shifts in shadows, colors, and other things that will happen from small movements in pose changes, a cloud moving, or whatever else. A different “feel”, if you will.

With the digital art boom, a lot of artists are learning how to do cool digital effects and fancy things, but forgoing basic anatomy, perspective, shading, etc. Which is all fine if you’re just having fun, but isn’t the best idea if you’re really serious about improving. Practice the fundamentals!

(If you have been dreaming about CalArts at one point like I did when I was in high school, one advice I came across from everyone who went there was to draw from life. All the time. It’s not an answer I expected from people who draw funny looking characters all day. You mean all these people who draw such simplified cartoon people and animals can actually draw like masters? Perfectly rendered bowls of fruit? I didn’t realize how much work goes into animating simple characters.)

3. Put in the time. 

It’s really easy to get suckered into just watching “how to improve” videos all day and thinking about improving. Watching how other artists work is an important learning tool, but you’ll never actually make progress if you aren’t practicing. 

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to not think about it. Just do it. 

It’s like when I’m spending a whole lotta time thinking about getting physically fit than just, you know.. just doing it. “Tomorrow for sure.” 

It may seem like it’s worthless, but doing those lame 5 push-ups a day instead of the 20-minute workout you wanted to put in, is better than nothing at all. You are making progress, no matter how small it may seem.  

Make it a habit to practice every day. That way, you don’t even hesitate. It’s as automatic as brushing your teeth.

All the artists you see who have fantastic, awe-inspiring art may seem like Unreachable Gods sometimes, but those artists didn’t just pull that out of their ass one day. They put in hours and hours and hours of work. Let’s not disrespect other artists by ignoring that and chalking it up to “talent”. No one is born with an innate ability to draw. WE can get there too if we practice!

I want to get good enough to draw the things I have in my head one day!

Some resources that may be helpful:

Draw a Box - This is a site for free lessons for absolute beginners. Look under “Lessons” to learn. The creator of the site is the mod for r/ArtFundamentals. You can post your work there to get critiqued.

Check out Proko’s videos on gesture drawing, art fundamentals, etc. Daily routines of successful artists.

Use this site to practice figure drawing, gesture drawing - Set aside some time to practice drawing people and animals every day. Start trying to see things as lines, shapes, and go big. Don’t get too caught up in the details, and tiny drawings. Learning to draw fast (not draw FAST as in speed, but as in capture the gesture in a post, the “feel” of the movement) will force you to do this more, and with more experience, make your figures less stiff looking. 

And it’s okay if you’re aren’t good at it. You’ll make loads and loads of shit drawings until you can get decent. 

I’m most definitely in this stage right now, trying to train my Artist’s Eye. As in, I can’t just draw a figure from memory. I don’t really know what goes where without a reference, or how they move, etc. You can tell by how stiff my drawings look.

Lulusketches How to Improve video - She has similar advice, but her point about looking at “Art of” books something I have come across from multiple professional artists; Her advice on worrying about finding your own “style” is really good too. Do challenges like she said!

Her playlist of art tutorials & advice is great. They’re short and sweet. Her beginner digital art tutorial got me started on digital art (the one with Ginny Weasley). 

Not free ($30 a month), but these online Schoolism classes look helpful. It’s run by Bobbie Chiu. I saw some great reviews and I want to try them someday. They’re taught by artists in the animation/film industry. But you gotta have a basic grasp on digital art/photoshop for many of the classes, I think? I’m not 100% sure. They’re pre-recorded video lessons. 

You can pay more for feedback from the teachers, but you can also just use it as a self-learning guide. 

This drawing faces from any angle video was pretty helpful for me. The artist has loads of other tutorials.

COMICS

I don’t feel qualified enough to give much advice on comics. I mean, I don’t even draw the lines for the boxes, haha.. However, these comic books are basically required reading for some courses:

Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics & Making Comics.

I can’t remember which one it is that I read, I think it was Making Comics? But wow, if I remember correctly, it was FULL of really useful things about how to make effective comics. I lost the book while moving years ago, but it was FANTASTIC learning material. I loved every panel of it. 

He talks about everything from perspective, placement of characters, speech bubbles, how big panels should be, etc. 

If you can afford it, get a used one and start reading! Even if you don’t want to make comics just yet, it’s super interesting. 

[artificialqueens]

nobody knows where we might end up, chapter eight (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr) | word count: 4150

AN: Thank you so much for the recent lovely reviews and feedback on this fic! It makes me so, so happy every time, and even more motivated to keep going. I appreciate you all so much. Thank you Writ for beta-ing this and being wonderful.

(then)

“C’mon, Mami. Please tell me something cool that’s happened at work recently.”

“Patient confidentiality, baby. Not gonna happen.” Vanessa’s mom ruffles her hair, making her scowl. “Can’t be spilling stuff to just anyone.”

“But I’ll understand so much more now! We had our cardio unit in physiology and I aced it.” Vanessa swings her legs on the side of her mom’s bed, watching her pack a sweater in her bag before her night shift.

“Already told you, I can tell you all about the cardiac ICU and what it’s like being on the unit, but no patient-related things. Gotta wait till you’re working in a hospital yourself for that part.” Vanessa’s mom pulls her hair up into a bun, away from her face.

“That’s not going to be until forever.” Vanessa sighs. She wishes she could fast forward to being an intern or a resident now.

“Tell you what. Want me to talk to the cardiologist on the unit about maybe shadowing him? You can see what it’s like, then.” Vanessa’s mom straightens out her light blue scrubs. Vanessa wishes sometimes she could try them on, but it would feel a little too on the nose.

“Would that even work? I thought you have to apply through official channels and stuff.” Vanessa has already applied to some hospitals in the new year for volunteering, but none of them are going to be in cardio, which is what she really wants to see.

“Connections always help, mija. Having a nurse for a mom has got to be useful for something.” Vanessa grins at her mom’s statement. Her mom is definitely why she’s always been drawn to healthcare, seeing her in and out of scrubs for most of her life.

“Though it beats me why you won’t just apply for nursing,” Vanessa’s mom continues, “it’s practical and you’ll have to do less school and you’ll get to make money faster. And no cutting people open.”

Vanessa wrinkles her nose. They’ve had this conversation way too often for her liking. “But night shifts, like the one you’re going to right now. And cleaning up poop.”

“You’ll have night shifts as a resident too, y’know, if you try and become a doctor. They’re unavoidable.”

“All worth it if I get to cut people open eventually.” Vanessa shoots a cheeky grin at her mom when she swats her with her bag.

“What are you, Dr. Frankenstein or something? Gross.” Vanessa’s mom makes a face at her. “I’m telling you, there’s something off about all the surgeons at the hospital. They’re all a little cuckoo in the head.”

Vanessa tries not to laugh. “I bet they think the same thing about the nurses.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t dare. We could kick their asses in a second. Not that we’d ever say that to their faces. Don’t tell them.” Vanessa’s mom points a finger at her.

“When would I ever see the surgeons?”

“I’m gonna get you to shadow one of them, aren’t I? Mom of the year. Pay attention.”

“You really are, Mami.” Vanessa stands up, placing a kiss on her mom’s cheek. “Have a good shift.”

Vanessa’s mom waves her off. “And don’t you forget it. We’ll see about it being a good shift, though. Depends on which bobo day nurse I take over from today.”

Vanessa’s mom pulls on her coat, then hat and gloves, grumbling the whole while. “Damn winter weather. Remind me why we live in Brampton again?”

“Because of your job.”

“Eh.” Vanessa’s mom shrugs. “Now that you and Julio are both out of the house, maybe I should just move to Florida or something. Somewhere warm. Not a place that’s frozen over half of the year.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to visit you during the holidays!” Vanessa protests her mom’s statement, hands on her hips. It’s not like they’d be able to afford constant plane tickets either.

“Take it easy, mija, I wasn’t being serious.” Vanessa’s mom shoots her a good natured look.

Vanessa huffs. “I know.”

“Glad to know you would miss me, though. You better.” Vanessa’s mom grabs her car keys, nearly drops them in her gloved hands.

Vanessa snorts. “Don’t gloat about it too much. Now go before you’re late for work.”

“Going, going.” Vanessa’s mom pops her head back inside a second later. “Don’t forget to make the plátanos tonight. We’re going to be too swamped to do them before Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

“I won’t!” Vanessa calls it out long after her mom closes the door behind her, rolling off of the bed. She heads to the family computer in the living room, which Julio is still sitting at after playing games on it for most of the day. She rolls her eyes. Her older brother is absolutely addicted to it. All she wants to do is be able to talk to Brooke.

“Julio, move! It’s my turn now.” She stomps her foot too, not that it makes any difference because he doesn’t even look up from the game on the screen.

“Nope.” He pops his lips on the last letter. “I still gotta beat this level.”

“Ugh.” Vanessa rolls her eyes at him, leaning against the monitor. “Do you ever do anything other than play stupid games on this thing?”

“I’m in engineering, dumbass, of course I do.” Julio looks up, his grin smug, making Vanessa huff. Annoying brothers. “I’m enjoying my winter break.”

Vanessa crosses her arms. “I wanna talk to-”

“I don’t care. You have to wait.”

“I’ve been waiting all day.” Vanessa grumbles. She perks up suddenly when remembering exactly what can make him move. “If you don’t move, I’m gonna tell Mami about the time when you were in Grade 12 when you snuck out and went to Noah Fielding’s party and-”

“Do not.” Julio turns from the computer, wide-eyed, pointing a finger at her. “You know she’d still beat my ass for that.”

“Well,” Vanessa shoots him a smug smile, “guess you gotta move then, huh?”

“Fine. Jesus.” Julio grumbles under his breath as he gets up, shuffling to the kitchen. Vanessa takes his seat with a grin.

She logs onto MSN messenger, scanning through her contacts while looking for one very specific person.

“Yes!” Vanessa can’t help but let out a little whoop when she sees that Brooke is online.

Vanjievanjievanjie: Brooke!!! <3

BLDancer1: V! I miss you so much!

Vanjievanjievanjie: I miss u too :( this break has been so long

BLDancer1: Way too long. :(

Vanjievanjievanjie: what are you up to??

BLDancer1: We’re going to midnight Mass later tonight because of Christmas Eve. I gotta get ready soon, ugh.

Vanjievanjievanjie: sounds boring tbh

BLDancer1: It is! I’d much rather be asleep, honestly. Vanjievanjievanjie: nerd

BLDancer1: Like you stay up much later than me! What are you up to?

Vanjievanjievanjie: not doing much for Christmas Eve cuz my mom’s working, just me and my brother and my dog rn but tmrw we have lots of fam over

BLDancer1: That sounds more fun than our Christmas dinners. It’s just my family all sitting around the table and eating quietly like every other dinner.

Vanjievanjievanjie: ew that sounds stiff. how’s the fam tho??

She hasn’t met Brooke’s family, knows very little about them. Brooke always gets more sad and shifty whenever her family is brought up, so Vanessa tries not to do it too much. Though asking over MSN may be better than in person.

BLDancer1: The usual. They said I need to exercise more and tutted about how my grades still aren’t as high as they should be. Not much else.

Vanessa winces. Yikes. Brooke had been fretting about going home the entire week before they left for Christmas break, hanging around Vanessa’s room because she hadn’t wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Vanessa doesn’t know exactly what Brooke’s family is like to make her feel this way, but it makes her want to fight them all.

Not that that would be a good first impression on them.

Vanjievanjievanjie: sorry baby :(((( sending u a big hug from here

BLDancer1: It’s okay. They’re right, I need to be better.

Vanjievanjievanjie: you’re already perfect u angel

BLDancer1: Not as much as I should be, though. My grades weren’t good enough this semester.

Vanjievanjievanjie: u got the top marks in our class u loon

BLDancer1: My mom said they’re not high enough to get into med school, though.

Vanjievanjievanjie: what does she know?? ur already working ur ass off, you’ll do it

BLDancer1: I feel like there’s always more to do, like I’m not doing enough.

Vanjievanjievanjie: listen come here so I can yell at you about how ur already a genius, u dumbass

BLDancer1: LOL, that’s a contradicting statement.  

Vanjievanjievanjie: u know what I mean.

BLDancer1: Ugh. I do. I just hate being here and hearing them lecture me constantly about things.

Vanjievanjievanjie: :(((

Vanessa spams a lot of emojis after her message for emphasis, hoping that it makes Brooke laugh at least.

BLDancer1: What is the blueberry emoji for?

Vanjievanjievanjie: because i miss u BERRY MUCH

BLDancer1: LOL. I miss you and you remain the cutest ever. :*

Vanjievanjievanjie: 5 more days to go!!

BLDancer1: I’m counting them down. <3

Vanessa has to stop herself from smiling when she signs off after Brooke has to leave. Five more days until she gets to see her, hug her, kiss her again. Five more days until she can go back to telling Brooke how she’s already wonderful just the way that she is, no matter what her family says. She hopes that Brooke starts to believe it, too.

(now)

Nessa.

Dr. Hytes had called her Nessa again. Brooke had called her Nessa.

Vanessa hasn’t heard the nickname since junior year of undergrad. No one else has called her that since then, no ex-girlfriends or family or anything. No one since Brooke.

It’s what Brooke used to call her when she was feeling particularly affectionate, or soft, or needy. When she’d drape herself over Vanessa, seeking comfort in her touch and the way that both of their bodies would feel warmer, safer.

And now she’s gone and said it again.

Sure, maybe it had been in the heat of the moment. Banging on Vanessa’s desk, skiving off the boring assembly for something way more fun.

But that sex had been different, Vanessa knows it. She had felt it on Brooke’s lap and she still feels it now, two days later because all her fucking brain wants to replay on loop is Brooke’s voice saying Nessa.

Maybe it’s good that the OR has been overly booked with cardiac surgeries and that Dr. St. Clair is out sick, making Vanessa’s schedule overflow with work. She needs the distraction, needs concrete work to focus on because if she doesn’t have it, she’s going to fucking spiral.

Not that it helps, because even during surgeries her mind has started to wander, falling back on muscle memory for the procedures because her brain has decided that it would rather focus on that fucking voice.  

She can’t do this again. At least, that’s what the rational part of her brain is telling herself. That her breakup with Brooke had been her worst breakup for a reason, drudging up all of her insecurities and fear and crushing her heart with a weight on her chest until it had smashed into a million pieces.

She can’t survive it a second time. She can’t.

Because sex is one thing. The chance to get freaky with someone who already knows her body, knows what she likes, knows what to do. Someone who has no doubt improved over the last eleven years as well.

But the way that Brooke had held onto her that last time, whispered to her softly, pressing kisses to her temple that hadn’t just been offhand, but felt so loaded with unspoken words? It had felt so real in the moment, and still feels real now when she thinks about it. Mostly because she can’t stop thinking about it.

Nessa.

Not Dr. Mateo, not Vanessa - the latter of which Brooke had began to use before they had broken up, when they had danced around each other and said words that neither of them had been able to take back.

Nessa.

It has to mean something.

Vanessa hates how much she wants it to. How much her heart is begging to go back to the start, to how things used to be. She needs to resist it.

At least, that’s what she’s going to keep telling herself.

“Vanjie. Vanjie.”

“What?!” She nearly jumps when seeing Kameron suddenly in front of her waving a hand in front of her face, blocking her view of the computer she’s sitting at in the dictation room. “Jesus Christ, woman. You scared me.”

Kameron snickers and Vanessa can’t help but smile back as she rolls her eyes, taking her thoughts of Brooke and pushing them away, burying them down in favour of Kameron’s expectant face. She’s beginning to bond with the cardiac surgery team in and out of the OR, a fact that makes her happier than it should. They’re all on a first name basis (well, nickname for her), and they’ve begun to hang out after work. Little things that are beginning to make Toronto feel more like home again.

“You’ve been so on edge for days. What’s gotten into you?” Kameron raps her nails on the computer monitor, and Vanessa closes her open tab with a sigh. Clearly she’s not going to get much work done.

“Nothing. Just tired, is all. This week’s been a fucking mess with the long hours.” Vanessa shrugs up at her. She can already feel a tension headache brewing at her temples, though she knows it’s not just from the workload.

Sure, they’re all friends now. But does she want to spill the saga of whatever the fuck is going on with her and Brooke to a work friend? Not particularly.

“You’re telling me. It’s nine p.m. and we’re still here because of all this documentation left over that we still have to do because of all the extra OR time we’ve had to take on this week? I want to go to bed.” Kameron flops down in the chair beside her looking slightly put out.

“Where’s Asia?” Vanessa looks at the spot beside Kameron and is surprised to see it empty, because the two of them are not far from being attached at the hip when they aren’t with patients.

Kameron huffs. “On a date. Again.”

An interesting fact indeed. It’s Asia’s third date just this week, and coincidentally the third day of Kameron walking - no, stomping - around the cardiac units with an extra furrow in her brow.

Hell, Vanessa needs a distraction from her own love life - or rather, lack of one, so she may as well bother Kameron about hers.

“That seems to be making you feel some type of way, huh?” Vanessa wants to tread carefully because she knows that she’s best friends with Asia, but the way that Kameron is affected seems like-

“I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Kameron’s a bit quick in her answer, fiddling with her hands. “Asia just goes out with all of these…lame guys and never seems to enjoy it, anyway, from the way she always comes over for a glass of wine afterwards to talk about it and it’s just…annoying. That’s all.”

“Jealousy or not, it’s clearly upsetting you a little.” Oh, has Vanessa been there. Crushing on a straight girl. Not something she’d ever want to repeat.

“Hmph.” Kameron folds her arms, and the action when contrasting with her scrubs and lab coat is a little funny. “It’s not. She’s just my best friend. I don’t care.”

“You’re so convincing, I almost believed you there for a second.”

Kameron scowls. “I don’t.”

“Hey.” Vanessa takes pity, putting her hand on Kameron’s shoulder. “Care or not, you ever want to talk about it, I’m here, ‘kay? I get it.”

Kameron deflates in her seat. “Thanks. Not that I need to talk about it,” she’s quick to add, “but I appreciate it.”

Vanessa shoos her away. “I know. Now go, I gotta finish dictating this report.”

She can hear Kameron’s snort as she heads down the hallway, and can’t help but smile either as she shakes her head. Kameron’s unrequited crush, no matter how much the other doctor doesn’t want to admit it, is cute. Though not something Vanessa pities in the least - she’s glad she’s moved on from that stage in her life.

Kameron’s problems are enough to distract her to get her through the rest of her reports, her mind blissfully clear of her own issues (she can’t start thinking about Brooke again, she can’t). It isn’t until she’s home a few hours later, setting her alarm for the morning that she realizes the next day is Thursday. Her next meeting with Brooke and the team about the surgery. Where she has to see her again.

Shit.

Grabbing an extra coffee before the meeting hadn’t been the smartest idea, something that Vanessa is beginning to realize the longer and longer she has to sit in this conference room while fighting the urge to bounce her leg in her seat.

The anesthesiologist is droning on and on, his nasally voice making Vanessa cringe. She has ten minutes before he’s done his explanation to the patient, family, and the rest of the surgery team. It’s going to be her turn straight after, having to review the patient’s tachycardic issues and the precautions that the team will have to keep in mind.

Except that her brain is running way too fast and circling through her thoughts at what feels like a million miles an hour, and she’s trying to look down at her notes and pay attention to them while listening to the meeting at the same time, but all she can focus on is Brooke.

Brooke, who is sitting at the other end of the table, looking incredibly focused and calm and is participating in the discussion as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Brooke, who greeted her when she came in with a neutral smile and a handshake as if they didn’t have the most confusing sex the last time they were in each other’s presence.  

Brooke isn’t shaking in her seat the way Vanessa is, nor are her eyes darting around the rest of the room. She’s not stuttering on her words, not like Vanessa did when the patient’s wife had asked her a question and she missed half of it.

How is Brooke so unflappable?

“Dr. Mateo?”

“Huh?”

The case manager is looking at her expectantly and shit, it’s her turn to speak and she hasn’t even noticed.  

Vanessa can feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she clears her throat, trying as best as she can to not make eye contact with Brooke.

Of course, Brooke’s direction is exactly where Vanessa looks as soon as she starts her spiel. Her blonde waves are falling down her shoulders and her head is slightly tilted as she fixes her steady gaze on Vanessa, and it’s enough to make her pause for a second, stumble on her words. A real great look for a cardiothoracic attending surgeon.

Vanessa finds it difficult to look away from Brooke as she continues talking, her eyes somehow always straying and returning back to her. As if Brooke is a homing beacon that pulls her back in every time, one that Vanessa can’t seem to change her course from no matter how hard she tries to do so.

Brooke doesn’t shift her gaze away either. Vanessa can’t tell if the way that Brooke bites her lip and the storm that’s brewing behind her eyes are real or just in her imagination, as if she’s projecting what she’s feeling - what she wants to feel - onto Brooke.

Hell, Vanessa’s not even sure what she herself is feeling anymore.  

She can’t stop herself from tugging on Brooke’s arm as the meeting ends, holding her back while everyone else around them leaves. Brooke turns around and for a second Vanessa wonders if she’s made a mistake, because being so close to her and seeing confusion and pain and emotions that she doesn’t recognize on Brooke’s face are nearly enough to knock her over.

Brooke shuts the door as the last person leaves, and maybe it’s good that they’re now both on their lunch break because there’s no way Vanessa can even think about work. Not when Brooke is taking a step closer to her, then another, lips parted as if she wants to say something but she’s still holding back.

“What are we doing?” Vanessa can’t help the pleading tone in her voice, because she doesn’t know, has no idea and she’s so fucking confused.

“I…” Brooke’s voice trails off as her eyes search Vanessa’s face, breath hitched and Vanessa wants to scream, because if Brooke doesn’t know, then what are they supposed to do? She can’t take this state of limbo anymore, walking on a tightrope that feels like it’s losing stability, becoming more shaky the more that they try to balance on it.

Brooke puts her hand underneath her chin, tilts her head up and Vanessa is sure that Brooke can see the way that her chest is rising and falling, the air feeling like its escaping her lungs faster than she’s able to bring it in.

It’s almost predictable when Brooke kisses her, wipes the slate of her mind clean with the way her hands come to rest on either side of her face. Vanessa can’t help but stretch up on her tiptoes, sighing into the kiss because it feels right, it feels okay, even though her brain is screaming no, no, no.

It’s not going to solve things, but what does it matter? When Brooke pulls her hips in closer and they press together like two puzzle pieces that somehow fit as if they were never meant to be apart. The smell of Brooke’s shampoo, the softness of her hands, it’s all so familiar and part of memories that still haven’t been erased from her brain no matter how much she had tried to do so when they broke up. It’s all coming back to her now, resurfacing as if she’d never buried them out of anger in the first place.

Maybe it’s a bit destructive, especially because now it’s not just sex, or releasing tension. Not for her, not anymore.  

The realization sinks in deep into Vanessa’s chest when Brooke starts to kiss down the column of her neck, hands trailing down her sides and lips pressing against her hip bone as she gets on her knees when she pushes her shirt up and-

She can’t do it.

Not like this. Not right now.

“No.” Vanessa pushes on Brooke’s shoulders and Brooke moves back immediately, wide eyed and hair slightly mussed and an apology on her lips that begins to spill but Vanessa doesn’t hear it, not with the realization that this is all it will be. Sex.

Vanessa had thought that she could do it, she really did. Except that now her heart feels like it’s being tugged, pulled towards Brooke, someone who doesn’t want her for more than that because why would she? That isn’t their arrangement. Never was. The expectations have been to have no strings attached.

Which is something that Vanessa had thought was possible. Though she should have known better - as if her heart will ever able to release the ropes that it had tied to Brooke back when they first started university.

She pushes her way out of the conference room on shaky legs, ignoring Brooke’s voice from behind her that she can’t tell what she’s saying because her brain isn’t working, not right now. The signs down the long hallway start to blur together as she tries to look up and find the way to her office because where the fuck is it, she can’t break down in the hall, she’s an attending, what will everyone say? But then she’s there and slamming the door behind her, leaning against it because her legs can’t do something as simple as holding her up right now.

“Vanessa. Vanessa.” The voice on the other side is a little desperate (no, no, no), with the banging of a fist on a door that follows makes her squeeze her eyes shut tight. She wants to disappear, make it as if none of this happened and as if she never even came back in the first place because of course she was naive enough to think that she could be back here with no problems.

Vanessa had thought that she’d freed herself. But now, she realizes that she hasn’t. She never had.

[sixx6ixxsixx]

Face Down In The Dirt 2

Ratings: M

Ships: Poly!Crue

Characters: Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars, Vince Neil

Warnings: None

Summary:  HERE IS AN IDEA: stripper au, poly!crue, everything else is up to you!! don't feel obliged tho i'm just suggesting /// Pssst, pssst... What about Poly!Crue with lingerie kink?

The rehearsal was almost over and Nikki was out of breath just watching. He’d never been around people with this amount of energy before. Mick had left him alone with Vince and Tommy while they practised and they were... good. There was no way in hell he was ever going to be able to perform like them but damn did he wish he could. When he woke up this morning, Nikki saw this as an escape from the hell of living on the streets but, now, he was beginning to like the idea of learning this. He’d be lying if he said spending time with Tommy and Vince didn’t appeal to him as well.

Tommy jumped down from the raised area where they had been showing Nikki the basics. “We’re about to grab food, you coming? You can tell us what you do.” He beamed.

“What I... do?” Nikki stuttered.

“Yeah, Vince is in a band when he’s not here and I work in a cafe.” 

“I... I, err, I lost my job.” The idea of getting food sounded great but he couldn’t afford it. 

“So that’s why you’re here.” Vince nodded. “Not the first. Guess you’ll be off in a few weeks then.” 

Nikki went quiet, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d really enjoyed today but he couldn’t see them wanting him around for more than a few weeks. No one ever wanted to keep him around for long.

“I don’t know... It seems nice here.” Nikki whispered.

“It is! Nothing’s been the same since I met Mick.” Tommy grinned looking down.

“Are you coming to eat then?” Vince asked. Nikki knew he couldn’t afford it, he was so hungry but he couldn’t. Shaking his head, he felt his stomach ache at the thought of a full meal. “Suit yourself. We’re rehearsing again tomorrow, here at 1.”  

Nikki’s heart dropped a little, he didn’t want them to think he wasn’t grateful but... He nodded and grabbed his jacket from a chair. 

*************

Nikki was shivering in the alley he’d slept in so many times he’d almost come to think of it as his. He had no idea when he’d be good enough to perform but the thought of having light at the end of this tunnel made him smile softly as he curled into his own chest. He was shivering more tonight than usual and he knew it had something to do with the fact he eaten since yesterday, not properly in days, his shirts were beginning to hang a little and his hips were aching more whenever he leant on them. It was ok though, he was going to get through this... he had to. 

The cold was just starting to send him to sleep when he heard a loud yelling from the main road, it was close otherwise he’d have ignored it like usual. He’d barely opened his eyes when he saw the lanky frame fall in front of him. He watched as Tommy tried to gather himself and a burley bald man lunged at him. Instinctively, Nikki dived for the bald man, knocking him to the floor. As the thug tried to stand, Nikki grabbed Tommy and began to run. 

Once they’d run a few blocks, they stopped to catch their breath. “What the fuck was that?” Nikki laughed. He didn’t even know why he was laughing, shock probably.

“His wife ordered a private dance without him knowing.” Tommy didn’t sound sorry, proud if anything. “Anyway, why were you in there?” Tommy looked at him hard and the sheepish expression on Nikki’s face said it all. “You... That’s why you need the job. It’s why you didn’t come out for dinner earlier?” 

Nikki nodded, as much as he’d say he was ok, he hated this life. Hated being ashamed of the mess he’d gotten himself into. “You have no idea what I’d give to get a burger and you and Vince seem great... I just... Please don’t tell Mick, he’ll never give me a chance if he knows.”

“You really think Mick hasn’t been homeless before?” Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, we’ll get a burger now.” 

“I still can’t.”

“My treat, ya know, celebrating the new guy.” His smile was infectious but Nikki felt bad accepting his charity. Even so, he couldn’t say no. Partly because he was so hungry but mostly because Tommy was already pulling him into the nearest takeaway. 

***********

As the left with bags of food, Nikki went to sit on a bench. “Woah, you don’t wanna eat out here, do you? It’s freezing!” 

“Where else do you wanna go?” Nikki held the bag close to his chest, the warmth making him want to melt. 

“Vince got laid so it’s just me in the flat tonight, Mick’s out too- he’s with Vince.” Nikki looked at him confused, “It’s an arrangement we have. I’ll explain another time.” 

“You inviting me back to yours then?” Nikki smirked. A thought shot across his mind and his smirk fell. “Will they mind if I’m there? It won’t mess up your... arrangement?”

Tommy laughed, “You’re just eating and crashing... unless...” Nikki shook his head firmly. Tommy was hot but he was already risking outstaying his welcome. 

“You’re doing enough for me, I wouldn’t push it like that.” 

“Shame.” Tommy grinned and shoved Nikki playfully before walking him back. 

***************

The night had turned to the early morning but Tommy and Nikki were still awake, laying on the sofa in that dirty living room. Nikki couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been hungry but, as the sun began to break through the windows, he revelled in the warmth in his stomach... and on it. Tommy had curled up beside him after a cushion fight, he’d been there for almost an hour as Nikki and him spoke. Nikki explained his living situation and Tommy had told him stories of his work. Nikki wouldn’t lie, he was excited to live out such an... adventurous line of work. 

Now, they were both feeling the weight of their eyelids, their voices were quiet, replies slower and eventually Nikki drooped an arm across Tommy’s waist as he felt himself falling into unconsciousness. The last thing he felt was Tommy turn to face him, nuzzling into his chest. 

**********

It felt as if he’d blinked before Nikki heard yelling again. “Tommy, what the hell?!” Vince’s voice made him jump. Despite the noise, Vince didn’t look like he was going to be the problem. The straight face on Mick was definitely not like the one yesterday. There was fury behind this one and it scared him. 

“What?” Tommy spoke groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, that. I can explain.” 

“You better.” Mick seemed to growl.

Nikki watched as Tommy tried to come up with a lie when he felt a pang of guilt. He’d already messed up his own life, he didn’t want to take Tommy down with him. “Tell them the truth, Tommy. It’s ok, I’ll go.” Nikki reached for his jacket on the sofa arm when he felt Mick step closer.

“Why don’t you explain it.” It wasn’t a question but an order. 

Mick didn’t speak the whole time Nikki told his story and Vince made a few sympathetic noises throughout. When he finished, Nikki took a deep breath before standing up, slipping his jacket back on. “Tommy wouldn’t do anything to hurt you both, I don’t think he could. I don’t know what you’ve got going on here but it means enough to him that he wouldn’t fuck a washed up homeless dreamer.” He looked over at Tommy, “Thanks for the food.”

As he walked towards the door, he felt a hand on his wrist pulling to turn him back around. Mick was very close, Nikki could feel his breath on his face. “We were all washed up homeless dreamers, you think I’m really gonna let you walk?” Nikki’s chest was pounding, he didn’t know if it was still fear or something else, especially not when he felt Mick run his thumb across his wrist.

Nikki couldn’t hold his gaze for long and looked down. “I just... I didn’t want you to know but I didn’t wanna ruin things for Tommy either. He’s really something.” He could’ve cursed himself for the tone of his voice but he did like Tommy and the fondness shone through in his words.

“Mick, please. Don’t let him leave yet.” It was the first time Tommy had spoken in almost half an hour and he was pleading. Nikki had never had someone plead for him before and it made his eyes sting. 

“You might as well stay for breakfast, rehearsals start just after.” Vince said quietly and he felt Mick let go of his wrist. Nikki looked at the three of them, nodding. 

Tommy jumped up and pulled him into a hug that could’ve crushed him. It wasn’t until he felt Mick’s hand in his hair that he realised he’d began to cry softly into Tommy chest. Tommy only held him tighter as Mick stroked his hair. He even felt Vince pat his arm as he went to the kitchen. This was a safe place Nikki had never known before but he wanted to stay as long as they’d have him.

[sashatrr]

Breathe with me. Chapter 16a

Chapter 15 here

Liam's jet landed in private section of airport. Holding hands, they left jet and got into waiting car. 

-So where are we? - Lina asked. She asked Liam about where they were going a few times during a flight but he said that she will find out upon arrival. 

-Where do you think we are? - Liam asked with teasing smile. 

Lina shrugged. 

-How should I know? All airports are looking the same. 

-We are in Brussels. - Liam said pulling her close. 

-Belgium? - Lina asked disappointed. She thought that he will take her to Paris or Italy. Both countries fitted for romantic trip, but Belgium? She didn't know much about that country and couldn't recall anything romantic about it. 

Liam nodded with a smile, her reaction didn't surprise him. 

-Yes, but we are not staying in Brussels. We will drive to Antwerp from here. It's not far. 

-I know nothing about Belgium so I trust you with it. 

Rest of not long drive passed in comfortable conversation. Liam was telling Lina about his childhood and his brother, Leo. 

He was getting relaxed more and more around Lina now. For once he felt like a normal man doing normal things with the woman he loved, even if he wasn't ready to admit it to her. He was really excited to spend as much time as he could with her and to forget, at least for some time, about everything that would come after the end of his so called honeymoon. 

Upon arriving to the hotel, they ordered a room service, both exhausted after a long flight. Lina was nervous during all flight, expecting plane to crash any moment and Liam was doing his best to calm her down and distract from those thoughts. After dinner both quickly fell asleep in each others arms. 

Next morning they woke up early and after breakfast left the hotel. Liam was wearing sunglasses everywhere to make sure that nobody would recognize him. 

First they visited an old looking train station. It didn't really interest Lina. It was nice looking, gold and marble but Lina was never into architecture. Noticing her indifference, Liam laughed. 

-Just had to start here. No trip to Antwerp is complete without seeing this building. 

Holding hands, they left the building and headed to a stone gates. Next seven hours they spent investigating the oldest zoo in Europe. It made Lina sick to see all those animals trapped, even tho their voliers were comfortable and they seemed to be well taken care of. 

-Nope, not doing this.-Lina shook her head trying to break out of Liam's hold. - I am already exhausted, I need coffee and to sit down. 

Liam was trying to get in the long line of people wanting to watch seals show. 

They headed to the exit and to the street filled with jewellery shops and sat at the table of closest cafe. 

-Just one more destination today, baby.

Liam saw it in her behavior, he failed to impress her so far so he was counting on new promising idea that appeared in his mind. 

After finishing their coffees, Liam lead Lina to the golden entrance of jewellery store. 

-Did you know that Antwerp is a diamond capital of the world? - Liam asked walking through doors into the store. - We can visit diamond museum tomorrow if you want. 

-I don't think that I ever heard about Antwerp at all, Liam. - Lina chuckled.-To be honest, I pictured other destinations when you offered trip to Europe. 

-Paris and Venice? - He asked stopping by one of showcases. 

Lina nodded and looked at showcase that was filled with necklaces and matching earrings. 

A man hurried over to them. 

-Goedemiddag. Kan ik u helpen?-a man asked subtly observing Liam to see if he was a potential client or just a tourist who happened to walk into the store. 

-Goedemiddag. - Liam replied. - Can we speak English please? A lady here with me doesn't speak vlaams. 

Man's smile grew even wider. 

-Off course. Let me know if you are looking for anything special. Not everything is on a display. We keep the most precious masterpieces in the office.-salesman said after noticing Liam's Patek Philippe. 

Despite Liam's attempt to look like a normal tourist, some things were still giving away his true status. 

-Danku, meneer. We will let you know if we need you.-Liam dismissed him and turned his attention back to Lina who seemed to be captivated by the beauty of platinum diamond necklace and earrings and didn't hear a word from this conversation. 

-Do you like this one? - Liam asked leaning  closer to check the stones. 

Not averting her gaze from necklace, Lina slid her hand down the  glass. 

-It's beautiful-she replied admiring the purity and simple elegance of it. 

-Then we are getting it, but I would also like to check their office for more exclusive things.

-Are you going to buy it? - Lina gasped in surprise. 

-Off course, why else would we come here? I would walk to the end of the world and back right now to make you happy.-he said and placed a gentle kiss on Lina's lips. 

Lina returned a kiss wrapping hands around his neck. 

-Well, then you need to find another way to make me happy. I can't wear any jewellery. 

Liam pulled back confused. 

-What do you mean? Off course you can.

Lina laughed. 

-No, I can't. I did it back in New York because I didn't want to ruin our night, but I have an ekzema. My skin was dealing with the consequences of it for next weeks. 

-Eczema? What's that? - confused Liam asked.

-I am not sure how to explain it. It's kind of allergy, I get it every time when my skin gets in contact with any metal for longer than twenty minutes. That includes gold, silver and platinum. 

-You can't be real, Lin. Is there no cure for it? I mean how am I supposed to spoil you if you are allergic to eighty eight percent of the best gifts I can come up with? - Liam made disappointed face. 

-You'll have to be creative then. - Lina laughed teasingly.

-You are just making it up, admit it. - His face became grumpy. 

-No, I am not. I promise you. 

-We still can get it and you can look at it sometimes? - Liam came up with new idea. 

-Really? What's the use of having it if I will never put it on? Sounds like a torture.-Lina took his hand, nodded to salesman and dragged him to the street. 

She didn't lie to Liam about eczema and right now she was grateful for having it. Despite growing closer with each other over past few days, Liam's lifestyle was intimidating to her. Traveling in private jet, luxurious cars and hotels and now diamonds. None of the things on display had a price tag but Lina knew that she would probably have to save for the rest of her life just to buy one earring from that set and she wasn't comfortable with this idea.Everything seemed to much, she couldn't explain it but she felt that sooner or later Liam would think that she is being with him for all that and not for himself. 

I never asked for any of it but I know how does it look. I wish he would stop doing this. It just highlights the fact that we belong to different worlds. Maybe I should be honest about it? 

Rest of the day they spent in the hotel learning more about each other's lives. Liam told Lina about death of his mother and lack of real family in his life, about very busy father who rarely had time for him and his brother. Lina told him about death of her parents in car accident when she was only three years old and about growing up with her aunt and uncle. They didn't have kids of their own and pour all love they had on Lina. She had a happy childhood any kid could dream about, her aunt and uncle made sure to give her all attention they could and did everything possible to replace her parents. Despite being very close with them, Lina refused to live with them after college or to accept any financial help. They did enough for her including paying for her education and making sure that she has everything she needs during college years. Accepting their help after college would make her a failure. 

Next day they spent exploring rest of the city center. They spent a few hours in Rubens House. Only there Lina understood a difference between looking at reproductions and originals. 

-Look at this. - Lina pointed at the painting  that was hanging over an old fireplace that was used for kitchen needs back in the days. - It looks like 3d. How were they doing back then? And the lights!- only now she understood how touching and amazing a painting can be. No reproductions could ever show the true genius of a master, and certainly not images she could see on Internet. 

On the second floor Lina spent twenty minutes by another painting that was picturing Queen Isabella and Ferdinand during their daily walk. Everything on it was very small but every small thing was drawn very detailed.

-How did they do it?-Lina asked again. - Did they use microscopes? Did they even exist back then? Really, I would go blind just after drawing half of it. 

Liam tried to explain her the technics of old masters but her attention already was on antique locker, every small door of which was beautifully painted with scenes from nature. 

In the next room there was a very small bed, draped with canopy. 

-See this? - Liam pointed at bed. - That's how they slept back then. 

Confused Lina looked at very short bed. 

-But how did they manage to lay in it? 

-They didn't lay, they were half sitting in it. See bunch of pillows? They literally slept sitting in bed and resting on those.-he explained. 

-Carving is so pretty. - Lina almost whispered. 

-Rubens was a businessman as much as he was an artist. - Liam explained. - He was a rich man as you can see. Most of the things we see here, in his house, are an art by itself and there was a very small circle of people who could afford them. 

After seeing all expositions, hand in hand they walked in the small garden, Lina snapped a few pictures of Liam and they continued their tour of the city. 

Very narrow sidewalks were filled with tables that were standing very close to each other. Despite lack of space, lots of people were sitting in those cafes, all facing the street and looking at passing by people. They were sitting so close to each other that Lina wondered how they can have any privacy at all. That reminded her of theaters. They all were sitting there like in the theater, almost touching each other, a street was their stage and people who were passing by were their actors. 

Liam and Lina walked through this street and came to the square with a huge, gothic looking church. 

-Onze Lieve Vrouwekathedraal. - Liam pointed at it. - Cathedral of Our Lady of Antwerp. - He explained.- We should definitely go inside. Rubens and a few other famous artists created their masterpieces especially for it. 

They waited for guid of Chinese tourist group to show their tickets and Liam bought two for himself and Lina.

Inside the building seemed even bigger than from outside. Ceiling seemed to be over ten meters in height and the stained glass windows were filling a hall with a lots of light. 

-I wonder how long did it take them to build it? - Lina quietly asked looking up at the ceiling and columns that were holding it. 

-It's still unfinished. - Liam replied. - But normally it took forty years or more to build something like this if we look at Rome for example. 

They walked to a wooden stairs standing apart and leading nowhere. Lina looked closer. It was beautifully carved but a center of composition were four female figures. 

-Those are representing four races.-Liam commented. 

They walked to a huge three pieces paintings hanging on a distance from each other. Even now, centuries after it was created, it didn't lose its beauty.

Cathedral was filled with tourists but a small area behind columns was fenced and a Priest led service for a small group of parishioners. 

Lina was amazed by the beauty of altar and everything else she saw around.

They spent a hour exploring cathedral, statues and paintings until it was a closing time.

They walked through crowded street to the small square surrounded by buildings and sculpture fountain in the corner. 

-This square has a secret. - Liam slyly grinned. - Let's see if you can find it. 

Lina looked around but saw nothing special. A building Infront of her was impressive but still nothing caught her attention. 

Liam stood on the fence of statue and reached his hand out. Lina grabbed it and stood next to him. 

-You might see it better from here. - He grinned again watching her confusion. 

-Would you give me a hint for what I am looking for or are we going to spend rest of the day here? Because I see nothing.-Lina said a bit irritated. She was tired already after whole day of walking and wouldn't mind a dinner right now. She wasn't a best person to be around when she was hungry. 

 - Card suits. - Liam decided to show some mercy remembering how confused he was when he was looking for it for a first time. 

Lina looked around in all dirrctions, at all buildings but saw nothing that would look like card suits. After three minutes of ineffective search she gave up. 

-I see nothing. Can we just get a dinner already? I can survive without finding it.-she almost barked. Her stomach was demanding food and not card suits. 

Liam laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist pointing at tiles on the ground. She saw nothing at first but then one by one groups of tiles formed a heart, diamond, club and spade. 

-Wow, amazing. Now my life is complete. Can we go now? - she got off the fence. 

-Wow you are really hungry, no kidding. OK, let me think where should we have a dinner. I have a restaurant in mind but we need  to change in the hotel first. 

-Yeah, right. - Lina growled, grabbed Liam's hand and drag him to the cafe on the empty narrow street around the corner she noticed on their way to the square. She stopped by one of two cute looking tables under a tent and sat down. - I don't need a fancy restaurant, I just need to urgently fill my stomach. 

Liam shook his head in amusement trying to suppress a smile and not to provoke her. Hungry and angry Lina still was charming. 

A smiling waiter brought them two menus but Liam declined it. 

-Hello-he said-do you have stoverij met frietjes? - he asked with polite smile. 

Waiter nodded. 

-Certainly, meneer. 

-Very well, two stoverijes, Westmalle for me and Delirium for mijn vrouw.-

Waiter nodded and walked back inside. 

-What did you order? Maybe I won't like it. I could honestly go for a burger right now.-Lina snapped. 

-Don't worry, it won't take long. It's one of Belgian national dishes and a cherry beer. You should try it at least once. - He replied 

-What did you call me?-she asked. Lina couldn't repeat it even if her life would depend on that. 

Liam wrinkled his forehead trying to recall his order. 

-Mijn vrouw? - Lina nodded.- It means my woman if to translate it literally, but also has a different meanings. 

Lina pulled a phone out of her bag and opened Facebook. 

-What are you doing, baby?- Liam asked. 

-Checking the news. - Lina replied not averting her gaze from the phone. 

-That's not very polite. I am right here and we could spend this time in conversation. - Liam pointed out. 

-Nope, I need to kill some time and to keep my mind occupied until i have my food. - she said and began to read posts chucking to herself sometimes. 

It was a new experience for Liam. Normally his dates would try to intrigue him and to spend every second charming him. But it was obvious for him that Lina got used to spending her days with him, it became natural for her and to his surprise, it felt natural for him as well. 

Ten minutes later waiter brought them their order and Lina rushed to eat it. 

-Ouch-she swallowed hard a first bite not feeling the taste.-Hoooot.-she moaned waving her hands to cool burned mouth. 

Liam laughed. 

-Slow down, nobody will steal it. - He said dipping a frie into stoverij sauce and sending it to his mouth. 

Lina frowned but slowed down and found herself enjoying taste of the food. After finishing she sipped her beer. 

-That's a good one. - she said relaxing into her chair and making a few more sips of fruity beer.-Can I have another one? 

-Careful, baby. It's called Delirium for a reason. - Liam said with a teasing smile. 

-Nothing will happen from two beers, Liam. 

He ordered another round but even before waiter brought it, Lina felt lightheaded, her head was spinning a bit. She let out a silly chuckle. 

- So good. I was really hungry. 

-Ha, no kidding. I thought that you are going to murder me if I don't  feed you In time. 

Lina finished second beer, her cheeks were burning, eyes shining. She moved her chair to the other side of the  table next to Liam and laid back. Liam rested his arm on the back of her sea and captured her lips with his. 

A kiss was becoming more and more passionate. 

-I want you, now. - she said into his mouth  feeling his erection through pants with her hand. 

Liam growled and abruptly stood up. He took a fifty euro bill out of the wallet, threw it on the table and pulled Lina out of the chair. 

-Hotel, now. - Liam said in low voice dragging her down the street. 

Next chapter

@indiacater @annekebbphotography @drakesensworld @hopefulmoonobject @jared2612 @carabeth @dcbbw

[spissues]

Week 3 -

GW:56kg

day1

CW:56.7kg

Waist: 25.5in

Thigh: 22.5-23 each

Hip: 38

Breakfast: 300kcal of various food(cheese,nuts)

Dinner: 300kcal soup + 1 hotdog

Snack: 1 piece of bread with 10g peanut butter + 1 banana + 100kcal of dip + 5chips

End of day note: Nothing off the plate. I will not eat anything off a plate for tomorrow. I promise myself this.

day2

CW:??????

Breakfast: <40g water oatmeal, only had time for a lil bit

Lunch: 1 skyr =93kcal

DInner: 500 kcal of mexican pot

Snack: 70kcal vegetable soup + 100kcal mexican pot

End of day note: I really shouldn’t have eaten the last bites of the mexican pot, in truth I was full, but the temptation seemed too hard to resist. It seems every day I fight myself about the small bites. I have to stop. Skinny girls don’t snack on food when they don’t need it. Otherwise okay day, but I can definitely afford to lessen my calory intake. Tomorrow I’m working so we’ll see. I’ll try to plan out smth smart. At least after tmrw I’ll be able to weigh myself again.

day3

CW:?

Dinner: 1 tortilla wrap (150) + 10g peanut butter +1/3 banana + 1 piece of chocolate (50)

I broke up with my bf today. I had an unplanned 23-24h fast from snack yesterday to dinner today. Felt quite energized during the day. Excited for being able to weigh myself tomorrow!

day4

CW: 55.6kg

Woooohoo im so happy! I hope it’s not just water weight. Either way I have faith I can be at 55.5kg by the end of the week if I just keep going. I will be strong

Breakfast: 2/3 of a banana

Lunch: 1 skyr (92kcal)

Dinner: 4dL tomato soup

Snack: 1 slice of bread + 10g low cal butter + 1 slice of cheese + 5bites of banana + 5g peanut butter + 2 hazelnuts

End of day note: I worked out today and have been so drained of energy, but all in all i think it went alright. I regret having the extra banana and hazelnut for snack, because I didn’t put it on a plate but oh well. Tomorrow I won’t make that mistake. I’ll be working after school, so I have to find the strength to avoid any calories from cake and such. I was thinking if I do it I can reward myself with making carrot nuggets (<200kcal). Maybe that will keep me motivated. I have to stay determined... even if I gained some water + food weight tomorrow.

day5

CW: 55.5kg

Dinner: <1slice of bread with scrambled eggs (1) + 600kcal of chocolate

snack: 9 carrot nuggets (made of carrot, egg, oatmeal) (160) + 1tbsp ketchup + 100kcal chocolate + 20chips (lets say 150kcal to be sure) + 1pc of bread + 10g butter + 1 slice of cheese

binge: same foods as snack... gonna put it at 1000kcal

End of day note: I wannna dieee. I planned for this to be a high cal day but it was soo hard to eat breakfast or lunch so when i got chocolate at work i started eating and couldn’t stop........ Well I could have. I was just too weak not to. Let’s cross my fingers this somehow worked somewhat as a metabolism boost. I have to be prepared for a higher number at the scale tomorrow. Nevertheless, I will eat normally : Breakfast=lunch at work, Lunch = 1 portion of family dinner + Dinner= something i’m craving. (not chocolate, I must have eaten 1000kcal just in chocolate today, which is over my daily limit). Hopefully if I do the same sunday I will have enough energy for a hike or something and weigh less monday than I did this monday. I have to remember, the only way I will not succeed is if I stop trying.

day6

CW: 56.1kg

Expected.

Breakfast: 3 pieces of chocolate (150kcal)

Lunch: Work: 50g focaccia bread with scrambled eggs (2?) + 5 pieces of chocolate + 1/2piece of cake 

Dinner: Rice porridge + sugar (>500??) 

Snack: probz >2 pieces of bread with probz >20g butter + 3 slices of cheese? + >500kcal chocolate + more porridge + more sugar + a palm of candy + 100g of vegetables + 100g dip

I wanna diediediedie I’VE BEEN EATING ALL DAY AFTER THE MOST STRESSFUL DAY AT WORK! Wha’ts worse is that I weighed myself halway through the binge. I was at my gw for this month. 55.0kg. I weighed myself before going to bed- 57.9. I know it’s a lot of food and water in my stomach still but I’m usually constipated so I will probably end up consuming all thos calories anyway. My reflux is so bad I’ve been throwing up all afternooon and evening- . Idk what’s wrong with me why did I do this. I have to get back to my routine. That’s what’s important- I have to reach my gw again, The food stopped tasting good again. I dont feel anything. I feel everything. I’m empty but i’m  full. I’m the grossest human alive. Why did I eat all that why. I don’t wanna count the kcals. I probably even underestimated all I ate writing this down .My mouth is numb. I don’t wanna do this again. I’ve filled more than 3 bottles of purging. And that’s after surpressing so much. whats wrong with me.whats wrong with me. I wanna cry but I can’t. I can feel my thighs growing.

day7

breakfast: 2pieces of chocolate + 20 g potato flour + 1 portion rice porridge + 1tsp sugar

lunch: pieces of bread + 2 slices of cheese + tastes of dough

dinner: 1.5 potato balls + vegetable mash + 1 carrot

snacks: 1/6th apple pie (500)

extra stuff idk when i ate: 1/2 cinnamon roll, 10 almonds

I woke up early to golf today. I went for a walk with my mom in the evening. Im planning next week - and appreciating a good breakfast at that. i wanna be skinny. i wanna reach my month goal. self control.

day8

CW:56.7kg

Waist: 25.5in

Thigh: 22.5-23 each

Hip: 38

i’m the same. if i schedule ik i can reach 55kg this month!

[zoesrose]

TEXTS; ZOE & YAS

pt.2 - January 2021 - March 2021

JANUARY 2021

yasmin puckerman

How your sub legs doing?

zoe rose

It's fine.

yasmin puckerman

If I was you I'd be like iT's fINe wHAT??

but i'm not doing you like that, don't worry

zoe rose

that was funny

but i'm not calling you Miss

but i suppose this week, you are free to call me Zoe

or any other nicknames you're been wanting to use

yasmin puckerman

oh shit

I'm gonna have to think on that.

zoe rose

no rush, I have a feeling this week is just going to drag

yasmin puckerman

It's not all that bad. Bet you could have fun with it.

zoe rose

i doubt it

yasmin puckerman

You already got a nickname from me

zoe rose

What's that?

yasmin puckerman

you got other people callin you Sir?

zoe rose

No, but I'm not sure if I would call that a nickname

yasmin puckerman

petname

zoe rose

A petname insinuates complete freedom, you have to use a title with me

yasmin puckerman

switch up got you splitting hairs

zoe rose

It does have me on edge

yasmin puckerman

you're still gonna be the same you on the other side maybe know a little more what it's like to be me is all and Marley

zoe rose

Thank you.

Sir.

yasmin puckerman

good girl tight Goodnight Zoe.

zoe rose

What's bothering you?

yasmin puckerman

Just got that feeling. You know when you gotta get control, let off steam some of the healthy ways

zoe rose

I understand that feeling all too well.

If you find that you need to (leaf) (smoke) just let me know and I'll come to you.

yasmin puckerman

always take that offer

zoe rose

I'll be right over then

yasmin puckerman

dope

zoe rose

Are you busy tonight?

yasmin puckerman

Free as a bird.

zoe rose

Would you like to accompany me to the club? I need to let loose.

yasmin puckerman

Hell yeah. Let's do that.

yasmin puckerman

so the smight flub babes... creepy fetish murders or regular type masochists what you think?

zoe rose

I think it's the latter.

yasmin puckerman

Me too. They had a chill vibe. I’m guaranteed to like anyone that complements my right hook tho so I trust your judgement more, Sir.

zoe rose

You do have a nice right hook. It's too bad you didn't get to see mine.

yasmin puckerman

I jumped too soon. I know, I know Froggy and I am not sorry

But if we hit up their spot, that should facilitate that.

zoe rose

I'm going to add a

next to your name in my phone

Is it something you want to check out?

yasmin puckerman

thanks I hate it Yeah I think it is. What’s the worst that could happen right? If its shit we’ll leave.

zoe rose

I won't, don't worry.

If we're going to do this, I want to establish some rules first.

yasmin puckerman

You said rules and my stupid ass got horny tf But I agree. I think. What type of rules?

zoe rose

Rules for your safety.

1. You will stay in my sight at all times. 2. When I say stop, that means stop. 3. When/if I say it's time to go, there will be no questions asked. 4. When/if you say it's time to go, I will escort you out, no questions asked.

yasmin puckerman

Yeah I’m down. What about if you lose your shit, could we drop rank? Hold up do you ever lose your shit? I can’t see it now that I think about it.

zoe rose

I never lose my shit. I've been described as apathetic on more than one occasion.

yasmin puckerman

I could see it. Aight bet. Got you, Sir. Looks I got plans next Sat night

zoe rose

I'd like to make it a habit to dress you whenever we're together. If that's alright with you.

yasmin puckerman

Whenever we going out somewhere or whenever whenever I’m with you?

zoe rose

The latter is tempting, but we'll stick to the first one for now

yasmin puckerman

I’m cool with that. Had me looking good on that yacht

zoe rose

You did look good.

yasmin puckerman

Speaking of parties and next Friday, the Sylvesters are having a birthday thing. Open bar. You wanna be my escort?

zoe rose

Yes.

yasmin puckerman

dope.

zoe rose

Apparently someone put my phone number up in the girls bathroom somewhere on campus.

yasmin puckerman

You be hitting to good. They tryin to share tips

zoe rose

It’s irritating.

yasmin puckerman

You getting a lot of takers?

zoe rose

Just one was too many, so yes.

yasmin puckerman

did you at least have then send pics? Seems like a waste.

zoe rose

You and I both know that's not how I operate.

yasmin puckerman

True. You busy rn? I’m on my way to my brother but tryin to

quick.

zoe rose

No.

yasmin puckerman

cool. can I meet you somewhere?

zoe rose

I'm behind the cafeteria.

yasmin puckerman

omw

zoe rose

(thumbs up)

zoe rose

How's your hand?

yasmin puckerman

purple

zoe rose

It's been a few days, you should have someone look at it.

yasmin puckerman

Yeah that's probably true. Oh shit you know what, I was recently told there's wholeass free medical services on this campus.

zoe rose

I want to know the outcome when you do see someone.

It's amazing what opportunities are afforded to the rich, hm?

yasmin puckerman

Got you. Just set something up for tomorrow morning. At least little ol' me caught up in the benefits. I wonder if I can find a hook up for chiropractor visits

zoe rose

Good girl.

This certainly seems like the type of place that would have something like that. I'm sure if you get a referral from the school any place in town will take it

yasmin puckerman

damn that was new in text form. read the notif off my home screen.

zoe rose

Good or bad?

yasmin puckerman

good. better in person but that's usually cause you're literally fucking me when you say it. it's my performance skills. crushing it.

zoe rose

What are your thoughts on trying something a little more domestic?

yasmin puckerman

Like what?

zoe rose

Household chores, kneeling, things like that.

yasmin puckerman

you know, chores are actually hella unimportant to submission

zoe rose

It's not about the chores.

yasmin puckerman

We could try it out.

zoe rose

That's all I'm asking for.

yasmin puckerman

Aight, you got it.

zoe rose

Thank you.

yasmin puckerman

So I was talking to your sister idk to be encouraging about the switch thing and practicing

Now she's cooking Monday night and I think I'm washing her dishes I know I don't gotta tell you that but

zoe rose

Thank you for telling me.

FEBRUARY

yasmin puckerman

You and me tomorrow right?

zoe rose

Yes.

yasmin puckerman

dope. I’m gonna wrap my hands this time.

zoe rose

We can wrap each other's hands.

yasmin puckerman

how romantic

zoe rose

is that what the kids are considering romantic these days?

yasmin puckerman

the kids?

lol okay grandma

zoe rose

I thought it was funny

yasmin puckerman

trust me it was  

hold up, before i get called out trust me it was, Sir.

zoe rose

i'm glad i was able to make you laugh

yasmin puckerman

you know it don't take much you gonna be dressing me?

zoe rose

Yes.

And we're going to apply Vaseline on our faces, necks, and wrists.

yasmin puckerman

the ol vaseline trick, getting serious

zoe rose

It's better to be prepared.

yasmin puckerman

I can’t wait. I like seeing you like that. Badass and focused.

zoe rose

I think I might actually step into the ring tonight.

yasmin puckerman

Really?

zoe rose

I can’t let you have all the fun.

yasmin puckerman

Now I def can't wait.

zoe rose

Why’s that?

yasmin puckerman

I finally get to see if the bark matches the bite.

zoe rose

I see. I suppose you'll see tonight.

yasmin puckerman

How’s your eye?

zoe rose

Fine. The swelling is down and it’s fading.

yasmin puckerman

That’s good. Must have been my magic touch and them peas.

zoe rose

Your magic touch, huh?

yasmin puckerman

hell yeah I am the baddest chick Shorty you don't believe me, then come with me tonight and I'll show you maaagic what what

zoe rose

♫ i got the magic stick ♪♬

yasmin puckerman

You getting in the ring again this weekend?

zoe rose

Yes. Are you?

yasmin puckerman

I might just watch you go a few rounds because a, that shit was sexy af and b, hands been fucking twinging so I should probably actually give it a minute. Tired of rubbing it out in the morning with my left hand

zoe rose

Come over in the morning. Give your left hand a rest.

yasmin puckerman

don't gotta tell me twice

zoe rose

You're missing something.

yasmin puckerman

my fault Yes, Sir

zoe rose

Good girl.

A blunt and some pussy, I can't imagine a better way to wake up.

yasmin puckerman

already know tomorrow bout to be a good day.

(smile blush) (alien)

zoe rose

liked this message

yasmin puckerman

I'm not trying to come rat a g

yo your sister just asked me to fu

it's nbd but your

you hear that one girl yesterday saying how next week is the last fight club?

zoe rose

Yes. Did you ever find out why?

yasmin puckerman

sounded like whoever funds the space is done vacationing here. do you be forgetting we are legit on a whole ass island surrounded by people with bucks. people do drop a lot in the shop but I swear I forget sometimes

zoe rose

That makes sense. Trust me, I'm constantly reminded of it.

yasmin puckerman

guess I just don't pay enough attention

zoe rose

I think it's just always something that's stood out to me. Other people being able to afford what I couldn't.

yasmin puckerman

Now we're slumming it on someone's yacht every other weekend I'm gonna miss the saturday set up tho

zoe rose

What do you think you're going to miss the most?

yasmin puckerman

besides watching you kick ass? it just feels good. Letting shit out. adrenaline I guess.

zoe rose

Yes, it was the same for me.

What if we started something like that here on campus?

yasmin puckerman

like do our own? for real?

zoe rose

Yes, why not?

yasmin puckerman

hell yeah house makes bank on books

zoe rose

The real question is: how do we invite people and still keep it a secret?

yasmin puckerman

if i'm gonna be brainstorming, i gotta be high for that

zoe rose

I think you're about to ask me something, so I'll just wait for it.

yasmin puckerman

if I just knock, does that count as asking?

zoe rose

No.

yasmin puckerman

you tryin to smoke? Sir?

zoe rose

Try again.

yasmin puckerman

do you want to smoke with me, Sir?

zoe rose

That's better, thank you. The door's open.

yasmin puckerman

You have time to chill tomorrow, Sir?

zoe rose

I was actually going to ask you the same thing.

yasmin puckerman

Oh so you was thinking about me

zoe rose

You say that like it's not something I would readily admit.

yasmin puckerman

Not gonna say I don't like hearing it confirmed.

zoe rose

I don’t mind confirming it from time to time.

yasmin puckerman

Loving the family time but, i'm trying to get away for a little bit if you know what I mean

zoe rose

I've just been in my room. Come over.

yasmin puckerman

Yessir. Already grabbed 2 cans of orange.

zoe rose

liked this message

yasmin puckerman

at least this was a good week to go smight flub-less. we still chillin tho?

zoe rose

My sister is coming over tonight, but you're free to join us.

yasmin puckerman

oh damn, I can't I need your sister thinking I'm too busy r that cool I don't wanna get all in on your time together.

zoe rose

Alright. Are you free tomorrow?

yasmin puckerman

as a bird in spring

zoe rose

I'm going to assume that means yes. I'm thinking a beach day, how do you feel about that?

yasmin puckerman

sounds dope. for a person at a school surrounded by beaches I never really hit it up. Never been a beach person

zoe rose

We'll change that tomorrow then.

yasmin puckerman

cool as long as we involve food

zoe rose

I'll have Marley make us something before she leaves in the morning.

yasmin puckerman

want me to bring sum from the toy collection, Sir?

zoe rose

Yes. It's not like me but, surprise me.

yasmin puckerman

yeah, it's hello not but, bet I got us

zoe rose

See you then.

yasmin puckerman

(peace) (alien)

MARCH

zoe rose

Do you have plans on Saturday?

yasmin puckerman

nah, I save em for yo

Nope.

zoe rose

How about Friday night and Sunday?

yasmin puckerman

you making me sound lonely af rn No, none plans. I've just been working tryin to catch up a little after taking days off with my mom here. But I have Sat off and I never work Sun

zoe rose

I want to have your whole weekend.

Please.

yasmin puckerman

in a you wanna tie me up kind of way or a that date you wanted type thi?

zoe rose

In an I would like your company for a full weekend type of way. Scenes and... just hanging out.

yasmin puckerman

Ok dope, I'm in I get off work at 7 on Friday.

zoe rose

Excellent. Consider these orders. From 7pm Friday to 7am Monday morning.

yasmin puckerman

you got it, Sir.

zoe rose

loved this

yasmin puckerman

finished that flyer. Imma make copies at work today

zoe rose

I can't wait to see what you come up with.

yasmin puckerman

maybe I can get some thrown up tonight on the low after you get a look at it

zoe rose

I'll come with you.

yasmin puckerman

dope

zoe rose

These new deans are something else, hm?

yasmin puckerman

I legit had to look bc someone asked me about new rules I’m

zoe rose

I'd rather not tempt fate. Let's find a venue off campus.

yasmin puckerman

whatever you say boss

zoe rose

I'll ask my connect what he knows.

yasmin puckerman

it was only a matter of time before this school tried somethin to put it’s program students in their place. Not here for it. But also can’t catch me giving a shit about a legacy status They can go on, I’m chillin

zoe rose

I've been expecting this as well. Doesn't even phase me when they pull the status card.

yasmin puckerman

the less I think about it the less likely I am to get pissed so, best for everyone

zoe rose

I should be back with Marley soon. Would you like something to eat?

yasmin puckerman

imma be honest, the answer is yes but also I raided your snack stash already Those sweet chili Doritos are

zoe rose

Those weren't mine.

yasmin puckerman

oh shit, then I owe ya roomie a bag of chips

zoe rose

I'm bringing tacos from that place you like.

yasmin puckerman

yesss How did you know I was craving tacos? Damn that just gave me a boner

zoe rose

I had a hunch, I suppose.

zoe rose

How are you feeling today?

yasmin puckerman

Good. I’m tight. No welts or anything.

zoe rose

And your headspace?

yasmin puckerman

Fine. I’m fucking fabulous today. And yesterday. I was fine on Saturday.

zoe rose

Okay, good.

yasmin puckerman

Yeah solid

zoe rose

Are you still up?

yasmin puckerman

Yeah

zoe rose

Come over?

yasmin puckerman

I would but I did a scene and I can’t leave.

zoe rose

Alright.

yasmin puckerman

Look, I was feeling some type of way and I needed to switch it up so You good?

zoe rose

Yes, why wouldn't I be?

yasmin puckerman

Idk It’s a perfectly valid question. You asked, I can. I mean, you didn’t right now but you did

zoe rose

I asked because it's my job as the Dominant to check in on your after an intense scene.

yasmin puckerman

fuck off and Dominants don’t? Damn, wait that came out fast I’m having a whole day. I meanT. Dominant’s need aftercare too

zoe rose

My aftercare was having you spend the night with me and keeping you close.

yasmin puckerman

Ok good wtf are you making me explain me asking how you are? I feel like I’m tripping

zoe rose

You just asked like something else was wrong with me. I misunderstood.

yasmin puckerman

oh my bad I don’t know why I’m so fucking touchy right now I switched my birth control so maybe I’m hormonal

zoe rose

I would like to see you when you're next free.

yasmin puckerman

Tomorrow?

zoe rose

Tomorrow night you're staying with me. These are orders.

yasmin puckerman

good call official orders for the new rules Yessir

zoe rose

liked this

yasmin puckerman

You coming by right? I picked up on my way home from work.

you wanna taste it?

zoe rose

Say less. Yes, I'm coming over. Damn you look good.

yasmin puckerman

It's GG4 and  

And I'm wet so, please hurry?

zoe rose

Please hurry, what?

yasmin puckerman

please come get your tongue on me, Sir? I had a DAY. Got you a blunt rolled already and my legs open

zoe rose

That's better. I'll be right over.

yasmin puckerman

are you busy?

zoe rose

No.

yasmin puckerman

I need your help with something

zoe rose

Try that again.

yasmin puckerman

fuck yo for real not right n

I need your help with something please

no, damn. do I really have to do this when its an emerg

Can you help me with something, Sir?

Look I gotta slip out right now or I'm gonna be locked out. I tried to do it myself but I can't fucking get it and I'm gonna lose my shit if I have to deal with this all night. And there's only so many ppl I trust if it can't

zoe rose

Come over.

yasmin puckerman

thank god ok I'm running.

yasmin puckerman

h ey

zoe rose

Having a good night?

yasmin puckerman

I did but I could be having a bett er 1

zoe rose

And how's that?

yasmin puckerman

yeah caus imma need your assistannce i'm gonna fall in the tub

zoe rose

What are you doing?

yasmin puckerman

mmmmmm busy being busy I was think in abt you

zoe rose

Are you touching yourself, Yasmin?

yasmin puckerman

oooooh full namin me you're so cute

zoe rose

That doesn't answer my question.

yasmin puckerman

don't you wanna sho w me how no cute you are or sum?'

zoe rose

Seems like you're still missing something.

yasmin puckerman

porn.gif

can you com  over so I can ride you, please sir?

zoe rose

I'll be right over.

yasmin puckerman

goodgirr (blushsmile x2)