#i hope whoever reads this has a good day. maybe when i wake up I'll feel a little better.

[rachamemories]

I'm trying so hard to keep my chin up but all that is left in me is anxiety and dread. I wish it felt like things would ever get better.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Five

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, smuuuuutttttt, bucky and you dumb affffff and will continue to be dumb affff lol

A/N: I will be updating my masterlist to link it below so you dont have to search for the other parts!

As you walked in a clicked the door shut, placing your keys in the bowl, that had little flowers painted all over it your heart clenched, Bucky made it to you is some ceramics class he took so he could make you a birthday gift that was extra special, you sighed pulling out your phone to text Steve: Made it home safe.

Your phone chimed back almost instantly: Good. Was worried about you.

As you made your way down the hallway, your hand lingered on your door as you stared at Bucky's door, which was across from yours "Stop it" You mumbled to yourself, you shut your door behind you a little too fast as you typed out: Thanks for always being there Stevie.

It said Read as soon as the message sent and the bubbled popped up: Always. Get some rest, okay?

I'll try, Dont drink too much beer, someone told me its not good for your health ;) night

-- Ha ha, whoever said that sounds like a smart guy... Goodnight :)

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts you can’t quiet. You’ve been tossing and turning for what feels like hours, every second dragging painfully slowly. Your heart twists with questions and doubt, replaying all the subtle moments with Bucky—moments you were so sure meant something more. Had you read all the signs wrong? All this time, you thought there was something unspoken between you, something lingering just beneath the surface. But now, with Kate in the picture, that hope feels like it’s slipping away, leaving you feeling vulnerable and maybe a little foolish.

You’re still caught up in the whirlwind of your thoughts when you hear the front door click shut. Bucky is back. Only one pair of footsteps echoes through the quiet apartment, and you exhale softly. Kate isn’t with him.

You listen as his footsteps draw closer down the hall, your heart pounding as they slow right outside your door. You hold your breath, half-wanting to call out, half-terrified of what he might say.

After a moment, his soft voice breaks the silence. “Doll…you awake?”

You bite your lip, staying silent, your eyes squeezed shut as if that might make the whole situation disappear.

There’s a long pause, and then you hear him sigh. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His voice is barely a whisper, laced with regret. You hear him linger for a beat longer before the quiet click of his bedroom door closing.

Your heart sinks, and you lie there, sleepless and aching, until exhaustion finally wins over.

When you wake the next morning, the apartment is still and quiet. You glance across the hall, hearing no sounds from Bucky’s room. Thank God. You don’t know how you’d face him just yet, so you dress quickly, grab your things, and slip out of the apartment, practically fleeing as if it were on fire.

The early morning air is crisp, waking you up fully as you make your way to your usual spots. You grab a coffee, linger at the bookstore for a while, and then pick up a bottle of wine for girls’ night, something you’re now very much looking forward to. On a whim, you swing by your favourite bakery, grabbing a big bag of donuts, hoping it’ll be a welcome surprise.

By the time you reach Wanda and Natasha’s apartment, it’s still early, and you can almost hear Wanda’s sleepy grumble before you even knock. After a few moments, the door creaks open, and Wanda appears, rubbing her eyes, looking as if she’s just rolled out of bed.

She blinks at you, her voice drowsy. “You’re about five hours too early for girls’ night,” she mumbles with a yawn.

You laugh, lifting the bag of donuts. “I come bearing gifts!”

Her eyes light up at the sight, and she grins. “Screw girls’ night. This is now a girls’ day.” She opens the door wide, ushering you inside with a grin.

You gather around the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in hand as you tear into the donuts. It doesn’t take long for the questions to start, Wanda eyeing you carefully between bites.

“So,” Wanda begins, her voice casual but with that all-too-knowing glint in her eye. “What’s going on with you and Barnes?”

You let out a heavy sigh, and Wanda's face softened , as if sensing just how much you’ve needed this. “It’s…complicated,” you admit, glancing down at your coffee. “I thought…I thought there was something between us, you know? And after all these years.... But now, with Kate…I don’t know anymore, i dont think i ever did"

Wanda frowns, reaching out to pat your hand. “Maybe he’s just as mixed up as you are,” she offers gently. “Bucky’s not exactly known for being straightforward about his feelings.”

“Yeah, but after all this time���” you trail off, feeling the weight of all those quiet hopes and missed chances.

Wanda shakes her head, determination flaring in her eyes. “Look, you deserve someone who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to show it, and its girls day anyway, forget about those stupid boys!"

You raise your coffee cup in agreement. “To girls’ day,” you declared, grinning. “Where we eat donuts, drink wine way too early, and forget about all confusing men for a while.” You clink your coffee mugs together, laughter filling the room. And as the morning stretches into afternoon, with stories and laughter, you find yourself able to breathe a little easier.

---

Later that day, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were sprawled around Steve’s living room, beers in hand, the low murmur of a football game playing in the background. It was guys’ night, meant to be an escape, but the tension in the air was hard to ignore.

After a sip, Sam shot Bucky a look. “So…how’s she doing?” he asked, referring to you, tone casual, but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

Bucky shifted in his seat, his jaw tightening. “She was asleep when I got back from the bar last night,” he muttered. “And gone before I woke up. Hasn’t been answering any of my texts.” He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated.

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Can you blame her?”

Bucky gave a weak chuckle, but his shoulders slumped. “I know,” he sighed, glancing away. “Nat gave me an earful last night.”

Steve groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned forward. “Do you really get it, Buck? Do you know how amazing she is? She’s been there for us, for you through everything—through all the moves, the close calls, every rough patch. She’s loyal, funny, strong, and—she’s beautiful, Bucky. Inside and out.” His voice softened. “She’s always been there, right there pal.”

Realisation flickered across Sam’s face watching the way Steve talked about you piecing together how he was when he rushed out the night before to chase after you and the way he wouldn't let his phone lock till you said you made it home safe, while Bucky stared into his drink, his usual swagger deflated. He stood up to grab another beer, muttering to himself, “If I didn’t know any better, Steve, I’d say you were in love with her.”

As the words left his mouth, the room went silent, the no response was a response enough. Bucky froze, beer forgotten, as he shut the fridge door and peered at Steve. “You…you’re in love with her?”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “Man…can you blame me? After all these years? Are you telling me you’re not?”

Bucky blinked, taken aback. He shook his head slowly, in disbelief. “I mean, I knew you had a crush on her back in junior high. But come on, everyone did.”

Sam, leaning back on the couch, gave Steve a knowing look. “So, why didn’t you make a move, Rogers?”

Steve shrugged, his eyes distant. “Come on, you know why, Sam.”

Sam nodded, understanding why because well he tried but after looking, really looking he could tell your heart was tied up elsewhere, and Steve glanced at Bucky, a faint apology in his gaze. “Look, Buck, I didn’t mean to drop that on you. I’m sorry, pal, its just i dont get you man”

Bucky hesitated, the gears visibly turning in his mind. “Are…are you still in love with her?”

Steve let out a sigh, giving a small, wistful smile. “She was the first girl I ever fell in love with, Buck. Part of me probably always will be. But y’know she's my best friend and you're my best friend too…” His voice softened, a bit nostalgic, and understanding as he met Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky shifted, brows drawn, processing Steve’s words. “Does she know?”

Steve shook his head with a dry chuckle, and Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “She’s as blind as you, Buck. God, you two are just—two peas in a pod.” Sam raised his beer, a grin spreading on his face. “Here’s to that.”

Steve chuckled, raising his own beer. “I’ll toast to that.”

Bucky frowned, folding his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve leaned forward, looking Bucky dead in the eye. “Look, punk, that girl’s been head-over-heels in love with you since we were kids. Anyone with two eyes can see it. And you? You’ve been playing this back-and-forth with her for years—whether you know it or not. I know you’d never hurt her on purpose, but come on, man. You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and longing crossing his face. His gaze dropped, his voice almost a whisper. “I fell in love with her the first day I saw her, when we fought over the swings in kindergarten” He smiled softly “Ive never, never loved her”

Sam groaned, throwing his hands up. “Then what the hell’s stopping you, Buck? She’s right there, man! You know how many people search their whole lives for ‘the one’? And she’s been there all along!”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his voice barely more than a growl. “I know, Sam. Don’t you think I know?”

Steve shook his head, exasperated but with a hint of a smile. “Then what the heck are you waiting for?”

Bucky looked at both of them, the weight of years of history and feelings settling over him “Something happened in college”

---

Just as you finish setting out the wine glasses, Natasha walks in, kicking off her shoes with a groan. “Finally!” she exclaims, collapsing onto the couch. “Rough day. I need a drink and a plan for tomorrow. We’re going all out for your date.”

You laugh, topping off Natasha’s glass. “Already on it. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping for a new dress. And then Saturday, you’re kicking Bucky and the boys out of the apartment, and we’re having girls’ day to get you ready.”

Wanda grins, chiming in, “And fingers crossed, maybe you won’t come back. You’ll be over at Dean’s, if you know what I mean” she wiggled her eyebrows

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Slow down, Wanda! Not so fast!”

Wanda tilts her head with a teasing look. “Speaking of which, when was the last time you even got close to any action? You’re never with anyone, not even back in college!”

Natasha leans in, smirking. “Don’t tell me we’ve been getting all the action while you’re at home alone with a favourite vibrator or something....unless you've been hiding a double life this whole time" She winked

You sputter mid-sip, choking on your wine as the other two crack up. Laughing, you shake your head. “I mean… there was… one time.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming. “Excuse me? Who? You never told me this.”

Wanda, leans closer “Come on, spill. Who was it?”

You sigh, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. “Okay, okay….do you guys remember that party John Walker threw in our third year?”

Wanda’s eyes widen. “Oh, how could I forget? Natasha jumped from the balcony into the pool, and I nearly had a heart attack!”

Natasha laughs, looking delighted at the memory. “Best party of college. But wait… I remember after that, we couldn’t find you anywhere. We looked for ages and got really worried.” Her expression shifts, suspicion dawning in her eyes. “Wait. Whose room did you disappear to that night?”

Wanda’s jaw drops, and she leans forward, her eyes alight with excitement. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Tell me it was someone we know! Oh my god was it Tony?!”

They start tossing out names: “Steve?” “Sam? No he was already gone” “That guy in your English Lit class?” “Oh my god it had to have been that exchange student, with the long blonde hair -- he looked like a god and he was so into you!”

You finish your wine, swallowing before glancing meaningfully at Natasha, that was one of your favourite things about your relationship with her, the way you both could just almost telepathically speak to one another.

Natasha’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in shock. “No, nuh huh! No way.”

Wanda looks between the two of you, completely lost. “What? I’m missing something here!”

Natasha, still staring at you in disbelief, finally speaks, her voice low. “Bucky?”

You nod, cheeks burning as Wanda promptly spits out her wine, sputtering in shock. “You’re kidding!”

“Not at all,” you admit. “We… never talked about it again. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even remember it was me.”

Natasha’s expression softens. “You don’t have to tell us the story if you don’t want to.”

But you just give a little nod, ready to finally let it out. “It was after you jumped off the balcony into the pool, I decided I should probably check on the boys especially if that's what you were doing” You laughed shaking your head “Bucky and I… we did a couple of shots….and there was this… moment.”

Natasha and Wanda exchange glances, both of them leaning in, wide-eyed as you begin to share the story of that unexpected, unforgettable night.

The party is in full swing, laughter and music echoing throughout the dimly lit house. You stumble out of the crowded living room, laughter bubbling in your chest as you weave through the throng of bodies.

You spot Bucky on the far side of the room, his broad shoulders hunched over as he leans against the wall, a beer in hand. He's wearing that classic, easy grin that makes your heart race.

With a few drinks in you, your inhibitions are low. You move toward him, your steps unsteady but filled with purpose. "Hey, Barnes," you say, your voice a playful challenge. "Having fun?"

Bucky's smile widens, and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "Just trying to keep an eye on the chaos. You know how it gets at these things." He gestures toward the crowd where Steve has just attempted to do a keg stand, much to everyone's delight.

“You’re telling me, Nat just jumped from the balcony into the pool” You gesture with your hands to the backyard, you could tell that he was worried by the look that washed over his face “She's okay, its Nat, Wanda on the other hand almost had a heart attack”

“God, she's insane!” He laughed, finishing his drink.

“Yeah, after that i decided to come check on my boys”

“Your boys hey?” He half smiled, his eyes piercing into yours

You laugh, leaning closer to him, the warmth of his body drawing you in. "Yeah my boys” You shoved him lightly, feeling anxious all of a sudden “Want another drink?" He nods, and together, you slip into the kitchen. The room is quiet here, and the air is filled with the sweet smell of spilled cocktails and the faint scent of something baking in the oven.

You pour two shots of something strong, handing one to Bucky. "To surviving another wild night," he toasts, clinking your glass against his.

"Cheers," you giggle, and you both down the shots, the liquor burning pleasantly on the way down. You pour another round, the world around you blurring into a warm haze.

As the night wears on, you find yourselves retreating to a quieter corner, sharing stories and laughter, the tension between you thickening like the air before a storm. "You know, I always thought you were kind of a dork," you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Yeah? And what do you think now?" he asks, leaning closer, the playful spark in his eyes deepening.

"I think you're a charming, more sophisticated dork," you say softly giggling. But then all of a sudden the moment shifts, when Bucky's face stays serious even with your giggles. The laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, more charged.

Bucky's gaze drops to your lips, and you feel your heart racing. "I could say the same about you, you’re a dork too…" he murmurs, and you can't help but feel drawn to him. He reaches out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary “But I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in any room, like thats my best friend, couldn't believe it, still cant” The air crackles between you, and suddenly, the noise of the party fades away.

You find yourself leaning in, breathless, and Bucky meets you halfway. His lips are warm and slightly rough against yours, igniting a fire in your veins. You kiss him back, deepening the connection, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.

As the kiss intensifies, you feel the world spin away, leaving just the two of you in this moment. Bucky's hands slide to your waist, fingers digging into your sides, anchoring you against him.

He pulls you closer, and the heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. "Let's get out of here," he whispers against your lips, his breath hot and inviting.

You nod, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He takes your hand, leading you through the house, away from the noise and chaos. You finally reach a door at the end of the hall. Bucky opens it, and you step into his dimly lit room.

As soon as the door closes, he's on you again, kissing you fiercely, as if he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have. The bed looms behind him, a tempting promise of what's to come.

Bucky's hands roam over your body, exploring with an urgency that sends your heart racing. "Are you sure about this doll?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze grounding you.

"I am," you breathe, and that's all the reassurance he needs.

With a shared breath, he pushes you gently back toward the bed, and you sink onto the soft sheets.

He follows, his body a comforting weight above you as he kisses you again, slower this time, exploring the taste of each other like it's a secret.

The world outside fades completely as you lose yourselves in each other, fingers tangling in hair, the soft sounds of your breaths and whispered names filling the room. Bucky's hands slide beneath your shirt, his touch igniting a fire on your skin as he revels in the curves and contours of your body. You arch into him, craving more.

"You feel so good," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

The sound of his voice, thick with desire, sends waves of heat crashing over you. "Bucky," you gasp, feeling bold as you pull him down to kiss him again, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He responds with a low growl, pressing into you, the friction driving you wild. "Are we really doing this?" he asks, his voice thick, almost reverent.

"Yes," you whisper, and it's like a spell has been cast. He grins, and the world melts away as you lose yourselves in each other, bodies entwined, hearts racing, as the night unfolds in a flurry of passion and warmth.

"You have no idea doll, no idea...." He whispers before diving back in, time loses all meaning, the night stretching on until exhaustion pulls you both under, and as sleep claims you, the last thing you feel is the warmth of Bucky's body next to yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You blink against it, slowly waking up to the warmth of Bucky beside you, still fast asleep. For a moment, you let yourself soak in the sight of him, the softness of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. But then it hits—the sharp pang of reality—and your heart sinks.

Your mind races, doubts creeping in like shadows. Last night felt like a dream, one that you’d wanted for so long. But had it really meant something to him? Or was it just a hazy, alcohol-fueled blur—a careless mistake he wouldn’t think twice about in the morning? Anxiety knots in your stomach as you wonder, What if I was just… there? Convenient.

Slowly, you slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him, each movement feeling heavy, like you’re pulling away from something you’ll never get back. You dress in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you piece together last night’s clothes. You glance back at him once, letting yourself hold onto the memory for a beat longer, but the panic rises again, louder than before. He’s Bucky—your best friend—and you don’t dare risk what little you have left with him if he wakes up and regrets this.

You need to leave before he opens his eyes. Before you see anything in them that could shatter you.

With one last look, you step out, closing the door softly behind you, the quiet click echoing in the empty hallway. As you walk away, the weight of that night presses down on you, a mixture of longing and regret settling deep, leaving you wondering if he’ll ever even think of it again.

[monstrousintent]

Tbh I cannot believe I haven't followed you here on Tumblr yet, I've been reading MI for over a year now lol. 11-year-old porn fic series my beloved ❤️ this story and these characters have become near and dear to me, thank you for all your amazing work on it! I loved seeing Spy finally open his heart in the most recent installment, and am waiting for the day Scout can finally officially say he has 8 boyfriends lmao. Halfway there!

One thing I would also super love to see is more kinky stuff involving Spy, since he's expressed interest in that in the past--and especially now that he's willing to be a little more emotionally vulnerable, I could see that leading to some lovely moments with whoever he plays with. Maybe it's Engie and it leads to some inner conflict there concerning his relationship with Pyro? AUGH the possibilities glbgkesncboksbfh. This series is so much fun!

Oh man what a lovely thing to wake up to and start my day! Thank you so much for dropping me a line! :D

I'm glad you've been enjoying MI! It's definitely my passion project, and I'm always delighted when other people actually enjoy my silly self-indulgent AU, lol. You're super welcome, and thank you so much! I'm deeply flattered! <3 Spy's slow gradual coming around to his feelings has been a long time coming, and I was so excited to finally have the dam break. I love writing him, that cagey fucker, lol. At this point Scout'll claim he has eight boyfriends regardless of how accurate it is anyway because he's that guy lol, but yeah, the slow build of him collecting relationships on the team has been fun. XD

I do intend to do more kinky stuff with Spy, absolutely! Engie owes him a good consensual ass-kicking for sure. >3 (And I like the way you think owo) That fic is deffo in the pipeline to come up soon, but I have at least one other thing I wanna do that was suggested to me by the lovely @zigraves like months ago first. I've been working on that one but I might throw everything out and start again because I've gotten too bogged down in the extraneous details rather than the whole point and vibe of the story itself. I'll figure it out, though. <3

Seriously I can't thank you enough for sending me this ask and for reading my stories. I'm touched, and fighting back misty eyes, and I hope you have an amazing day, friend!

If you wanna follow my overall writing blog too (still like 99% TF2 fics) it's @typingatlightspeed, and my main blog is @markingatlightspeed which is a lot of TF2 but also just a lot of shitposting at a speed my username implies lol, so I understand it's not for everyone lol

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[liibrii]

fem!Miya!Reader & Miya family

Part of the Third Miya Series

Synopsis: Three is a weird number. It's only two units bigger than one and only a unit more than two and yet it seems to be so much more, especially when the three in question are toddlers needed to be dressed for kindergarten.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: baby Miyas, the ultimate serotonin providers 🙃 if you wanna be tagged in future chapters let me know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Mrs Miya has always trusted her gut feeling and in that moment it was telling her the bathroom was down the corridor, last door on the left, and, just as Mr Miya had told her that morning, eating leftover curry for breakfast was a dreadful idea.

Doctor repeats her words and Mrs Miya's neck becomes completely stiff. If it wouldn't she'd perhaps be able to look at her husband whose face turned ashen pale. “Triplets?“

Well, this will take buy one get one for free jokes on a whole new level.

Doctor's words are just buzzing and the soon to be Miya parents nod and smile and nod and hold on each others' hand as if there's no tomorrow. They're silent on the way out.

Mr Miya turns to his wife. “Do they even sell strollers for three kids?”

Three is a weird number. It's only two units bigger than one and only a unit more than two and yet it seems to be so much more, especially when the three in question are toddlers needed to be dressed for daycare.

You all wear the same colours because Atsumu would throw a tantrum if your jumper wasn't the same colour as his and you would throw a tantrum when yours was a different colour than Osamu's, who in turn would throw a tantrum because his jumper was now the same colour as Atsumu's.

Mrs Miya had read advices that one should always dress their twins (or, in this case, triplets) differently as it is good for their personality development; which is all well and good and a great advice, except that whoever wrote it forgot to take into account that two and a half out of her three children saw being dressed differently as their siblings as a horrific violation of their toddler rights.

Your parents tell themselves one day you'll grow out of this phase, but till then mom stitches little numbers one, two, and three on the edges of your clothes. She did start stitching your names, but with only two pairs of hands in the house and three little sprouts in constant need of attention there was never enough time to finish them.

“One,“ says Mr Miya and Atsumu raises his hands.

“Ichi!“ he proudly chimes.

“Two,“ Mr Miya grabs you before you'd crawl out of the reach of his arms.

“Ni!“ like his brother Osamu too raises his chubby fists, but only halfway.

“And three!”

“San!“ You hug your dad's neck, perhaps hoping that will get you out of having to wear socks.

And heaven forbid they ever messed up which jumper belonged to whom. It was beyond your parents' wisdom how you could tell the number stitched on the edge was not the same they said when counting your heads, but you could.

“Must be yer superpower,“ jokes Mr Miya while changing your sweater that has the wrong number on the edge. He barely pulls it off when Atsumu's chubby hands already grab it and begin pulling it over his head. He screams when his father offers to help, pouting even if he's completely lost between the left sleeve and the opening for the head.

“Alright buddy,“ muses Mr Miya and turns his attention to Osamu who already pulled his socks off so, naturally, now you've mysteriously lost one of your socks too. Mr Miya sighs. Maybe it's time to let his boss know he's going to be late.

Three is an enormous number, when the three in question are a feverish toddler in your arms and two more running around doctor's office. Perhaps it was time to ask the daycare to put you three into different groups. That will cause an outrage, oh ever since the 'One child, one pillow' incident Mrs Miya is well aware of that. But then again, better that than all of you throwing a tantrum when only one got to leave the daycare early.

“One, two, three,“ she counts your heads under her breath, then hurries over to where you just picked up a very interesting small stone that probably fell from the soles of someone's shoes, “San! I mean y/n, sweetie, that's a stone. See, it's rough and cold.“ You whine when she takes the treasure from you but still  listen closely to her words that spark Atsumu's interest too, and he trots closer to see what is happening. Thankfully feverish Osamu has fallen asleep in her arms. Really, the last thing she needs is his firm conviction the stone is just greyish candy. Mrs Miya still lets Atsumu take the stone in his hands. “No,“ she grabs his hand when he lifts it towards his mouth that is already curving into a grimace. “Hey, hey, no need to cry over it sweetie. Yer gonna wake up yer brother and he needs sleep right now.“

“Is he sick?” your tiny voice chimes in. Mrs Miya nods. “Because he ate melon seeds,“ you nod with all the wisdom of a 3 year old. “He's growin' melons in his tum-tum,“ you tell Atsumu whose wide eyes blink twice before he bursts into tears.

“One, two, three,“ Mrs Miya counts your heads while you play around the house. If you hide from her sight sooner or later screaming and crying alerts her something happened. A moment later Mr Miya returns to the living room with a very much red faced and screaming Atsumu in his arms.

“What happened?“ she asks, crouching down to console you, also crying because there's no way you'd let your brother scream his lungs out by himself.

“Ah the usual,“ he places the scissors on the counter, “wouldn't let him shred his shirt. Osamu, no!“ He quickly grabs his other son who also starts crying, shocked that his own father would take the lost sock from him before he got the chance to find out how it tastes.

Ah, just another Sunday.

The good thing about three children running around is they're never lonely. There are always games to play, fights to win, faces to colour. Most of the days all of you exhaust yours (sometimes apparently infinite) supplies of energy by the time evening falls. Mr Miya puts you to bed (one bed, because trying to make you sleep in separate cribs is apparently a disgusting violation of Toddler convention) before he collapses beside his wife.

“Asleep?“ she asks.

Mr Miya hums. “For now.“

The moment they turn the lights off slide door across the hallway open. Light steps cross the dangerous waters of the dark hallway, enter the bedroom and climb over Mr Miya to the safe haven between the parents.

“Bad dreams?“ asks Mrs Miya. In response Osamu sniffles and snuggles closer. Not a minute passes when two more pairs of legs pass through the darkness of the hallway and climb to be beside their brother. You shriek when Atsumu pushes his cold feet on your back, but dad's stern word makes you stop. A few moments later you're all asleep.  

“One, two, three,“ sleepily mumbles Mrs Miya, patting each of your heads.

“Four,“ says Mr Miya and his wife giggles.

Three is the number of band-aid packages your parents buy per month. Ever since you've grown for about a chopstick taller, well you only grew for about three thirds of a chopstick because nature thought it would be funny if you got outgrown by your brothers at the tender age of 5, it turned out the tall tree in the park could in fact be climbed, if you climbed on someone's shoulders and then pull them on the lowest branch. Sadly the branches aren't big fans of being climbed on but no amount of scratches and falls could stop you from trying.

“A champignon never stops tryin'!“ proclaims Atsumu after the failed attempt that left bark in his hair and Osamu laughing on the branch.

“What's a champignon?“ you ask.

“It's the person who's the best! It's what I'll be one day!“

Osamu snorts, firmly grabbing on the thin branch he's sitting on. “Champignon's a mushroom.“

“No it ain't!“

A mushroom, you make a little note in your memory, because no matter how much Atsumu protests you're more inclined to believe Osamu when it comes to mushrooms.

Your heads turn when you hear mom calling and waving, waiting for Osamu to climb down before running over to her.

“I win!“ announces Atsumu despite Osamu reaching her first.

“Why, because yer a champignon?“

“Are we all here?“ loudly asks Mr Miya before his boys could jump into each other's hair, “identify yerselves!“

“One!“ calls Atsumu.

“Two!“ calls Osamu, louder.

“Three!“ you call and jump, because being louder than them was never an option.

Four heads turn to Mrs Miya. “Mom,“ she raises her hand.

“Excellent!“ proclaims Mr Miya as three small voices cheer. “Then we can get goin'!“

“Where to?“ you ask.

Mr Miya picks up a stick and starts drawing lines in the sand covering the path. “It's a secret but maybe ya can guess, we'll go down this path-“

“A treasure hunt!”

“Almost. At the fountain we'll turn left, and what lies down the fountain path?“

“Pigeons?“ you try guessing.

Osamu bumps his fist on the open palm. “Ice cream stand!“

Mr Miya nods.

“Last one there's a loser!“ shouts Atsumu who starts running before even finishing the sentence. Osamu immediately follows, both ignoring your shouts to wait up.

Three is a funny number. It only works when the two and one have the third , because otherwise it's just one and two. Like a clover that got munched on by a picky rabbit that tried a leaf and then decided it doesn't fit its taste.

Volleyball sort of became the rabbit munching on the clover. One day teachers simply decided you're not allowed to play on the same team as your brothers anymore. And no amount of crying, screaming and sulking could convince the rabbit to give the leaf back.

“Maybe we can sneak ya in,“ suggests Atsumu one night, “all ya hafta do is wear our clothes. No one will know!“

So you try that and funnily enough, people do notice when one and two together make a three, and what surprises children even more is that parents also notice when they return late from school because they had to stay in detention. And as if cleaning the school hallways for a month wasn't enough, now they have to clean the house too.

It is however enough to discourage you from trying to sneak into practice again, so you stick with only coming to games and waiting for their practice to end so you can walk home together. From time to time some of their teammates stop to say hello or to complain to you about their shenanigans, but that's knowledge you hold to yourself, since you never knew when blackmail material might come in handy.

It's only when Osamu teases they get to go to a volleyball workshop and you don't that you get envious.

“It sounds stupid anyway,“ you try pretending you couldn't care less.

“It would be perfect for ya then,“ Osamu shots back and sprints away as you dive after him.

Maybe you are just a teensy bit envious, still as long as you get to play with them when they are home it's not that bad. After returning from their workshops you don't even let them take their shoes off before dragging them to the volleyball net dad set up in the garden. You stand where you always stand, by the net so you can throw balls for them to hit over.

Atsumu pushes you away. “No, this is my position now. I wanna be a setter.“

You don' mind, and throw the ball towards Atsumu who sends it back into a bit of an awkward place and you end up not even hitting it.

Osamu bursts into laughter. “Ya suck.“ He jumps to avoid the kick aimed at his knee. “We play with good players now so yer gonna hafta practice more. There was this tall player with a cool name! Right, Tsumu?“

“Tsumu?“ you repeat.

“Tsumu and Samu. It's our names but they sound way cooler now!“ proudly declares Atsumu.

Your eyes widen in admiration. “I want that too! What should I call myself?“

“Yer always copyin' us,“ complains Osamu but he gets ignored as the first name Atsumu suggests earns him a ball to the face.

“Oh I know!“ You bump your fist on your open palm. “I'll be San!“

Atsumu thinks it over with the same expression Osamu has when trying to decide which udon toppings to order. “San,... Y/n... San,... It sounds so cool! Whaddaja think Samu?“

Osamu shrugs. “San, let me show ya how to spike the ball properly.“

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash​

[coloredgirlfan-fiction01]

The warm morning sunshine was the first thing you felt as you woke from your sleep. The bright light stung your rested eyes but with a few blinks it was manageable.

Looking over at your bedside table, the digital clock read seven sixteen. You had wanted to set the alarm to wake up earlier, but Michael always complained that the sound it made was annoying and gave him headaches.

So you had to learn to wake up early so Michael could get his beauty sleep, not that he really needed it.

Said blonde was still fast asleep on his back, arms on each side of his head and soft pink lips slightly parted as he took shallow breaths. His long eyelashes fluttering ever so gently on his cheeks as he dreamed, something good you hoped.

He was dressed in the red silk pajama suit you picked out for him last night, the first three buttons of the top undone which exposed the smooth skin of his chest.

He was so beautiful, unlike most men he was soft and loved to be taken cared of. There was nothing anyone could say or do that could make you any less in love with him, and he loved you just as much.

You protected him and never judged him for the way he was like those in his past had. They were so focused on what he was and what he was destined to do, that they never stopped to ask him who he really was outside of his father's dark shadow.

As you watched him sleep a fond smile crept across your lips, you leaned over the blonde and gently kissed the top of his exposed chest.

"Michael, it's time to wake up." You whispered placing another kiss just above the previous one.

You felt him stir and let out a soft groan as you began to kiss his neck.

"Five more minutes." You chuckled at how childish his whine was.

"Come on puppy, it's time to get up." You watched as his eyes fluttered open, ocean eyes seemed to almost glow as the sunlight hit them.

"Morning.." He greeted with a smile. You reached out you brush a few strands away from his face, enjoying the smoothness of his skin and the happiness in his eyes.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I dreamt about you. We were at the bottom of a clear blue ocean. I was lying on your lap, you were humming a song and running your fingers through my hair as I fell asleep. It was beautiful, peaceful."

He always had such strange dreams. Sometimes he had nightmares that were so vivid even you got chills whenever he'd talk about them, but you always loved the ones he got that made him smile in the morning.

"Your too cute for your own good sometimes you know that?" You kissed him and got out of bed to stretch your arms above your head to rid your body of any excess tiredness.

The grey T-shirt you wore to bed lifted as you did, exposing your upper thighs and ass which Michael gawked when he sat up. He couldn't help but think how sexy you looked wearing his shirt and nothing else.

Your skin always had a sort of glow when the sun washed over you. Every curve, your hips, your breasts, your long legs, your natural hair that framed your face made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He'd never thought that after everything that went went in his life, all the blood and bad choices that he would find redemption and safety in the shape of you.

You were the first person to treat him like an actual human being with feelings and emotions instead of just the antichrist that was destined to destroy the world and remake it in his father's image. That part of him died the moment he gave himself to you.

"Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you gonna' get up and get ready pup?" Blush dusted his cheeks and he averted his eyes to stop from staring. He got out of bed and helped fixed the bedding before joining you in the shower.

After that you guided him downstairs to the kitchen and began to make a healthy breakfast for the both of you, while Michael sat at the counter and watched you.

French toast, eggs, sausages and a pot of freshly made lemongrass tea was on the menu and you took pride in the fact that you only took twenty minutes to make everything.

"So what do you want to do today pup?" You asked serving him his share. Since you didn't have to go into work on Saturdays, you always let Michael choose how you'd spend the day together. You owned your own business and it took up alot of your time, so you dedicated a day just for Michael since he hardly gets to have you for himself.

"I was thinking we could go to the park today, the weather's nice maybe we can have a picnic?"

"That sound like a g-" The loud ringing of your cellphone cut off the conversation and drew you away from the kitchen counter to retrieve your phone from upstairs.

Apparently one of your employees made an error at work and they needed your help to fix it before it caused problems for the software. You inquired about the error and thanked the heavens it wasn't something that you needed to leave home for.

"Michael I'm going to be in my office for a few minutes, finish your breakfast and watch some TV until I'm done OK?" You called out and got an 'alright' as his answer.

About an hour has passed and Michael was getting bored of watching TV. They were showing some low budget show about vampires and he was in no mood to sit through it.

What was taking you so long? You had said a few minutes and it's been an entire hour and you haven't left your home office.

He hardly gets to spend any quality quality time with you and now your work was getting in the way of his day. He wasn't happy.

Deciding he's waited enough, Michael clicked off the TV and marched up the stairs to the see what was taking you so long. He decided not to knock and just barged in ready to demand your attention but stopped himself as he saw you typing furiously on your laptop and talking sternly at whoever was on the phone.

"There is absolutely nothing you can give me as an excuse right now, this could completely crash the servers and we can loose Gigabytes of data because of this."

You always looked so fierce when you were pissed off about something. Your usually calm and collected demeanor was replaced by one of dominance and authority that always made his knees weak. Just the sound of you scolding your employee made him hard and made him want your attention even more.

He closed the door behind him and walks over to you, fully determined to get what he wanted despite knowing he wasn't allowed to disturb you during work.

"Y/n are you almost done, you promised that we'd spend time together today." He whined kneeling beside your chair. His big blue eyes looked up at you but you didn't even give his a side glance.

"Today is my day with you they get you every other day, can't you handle this later?" You shot him a serious glare that shut him up but it didn't deter him from his mission. Being ignored was one thing, but you brushing him off for your work on his day was the last straw.

You didn't question him when he crawled on the floor to get under your desk. You didn't even question when he spread your legs apart to make room for himself in the tight space.

What did get your attention was the sharp tug of your panties that made them snap when he tugged them with his finger. The pull was so strong it pulled you along with it.

He could be such a brat when he couldn't get what he wanted. You didn't mind it but your work couldn't wait.

You could tell he was getting impatient as you hardly reacted to his desperate acts for attention. The way his teeth nipped at your inner thighs and the wetness his tongue left in it's wake as he licked your folds with vigor.

You'd be lying if you weren't getting turned on by his efforts.

If there's one thing that Michael excelled at was pleasing you to the best of his abilities.

It took all of your will power not to moan into your phone as his tongue slipped into you, his hands wrapped around your hips to pull your lower half flush against his mouth.

"You do know there will be consequences for this, don't you?" You said into the phone while grabbing a fist full of Michael's hair, making sure that he knew she was talking to him too.

Absolute chills ripped through you as he moaned loudly against your sex. His hot breath against your dripping sex was euphoric and you could help but grind your hips into him to get more.

"Listen to me, today is my day off and I have business at the moment to take care of. I'll deal with you and your mistake tomorrow." You ended the call and threw the phone on the desktop.

You pulled away from Michael and yanked him by his hair to get out of the tight space.

"You can be a real brat sometimes you know that?"

"You were gone for so long, and I-"

"You know the rules about coming in here don't you?"

"I know. I- I'm sorry."

You sighed and gestured to him to get out from under the table and to lay down on the floor. You followed after him and took the position of straddling his hips.

He looked so adorable beneath you, eyes full of anticipation for whatever you were going to do to him at that moment, you almost felt sorry for him.

"How do you think you should be punished puppy?"

Usually you would spank him or put him on time out for disobeying you, but he was right. Today was his day and you broke your promise.

"How about I do something we'll both enjoy, but at the same time you get your punishment. And if you're good we'll get ready to go on that picnic right after, sound fair?" You asked, which he immediately agreed to.

You slowly began to ride on top of Michael, his semi erection perfectly positioned against your sex making the friction delicious between the two of you.

The hairs on your neck stood up as a wave of chills ran across your skin when Michael let out a desperate moan as you felt him grow harder under you. His brilliant blue eyes glazed over in desperation and pleasure that motivated you to move faster.

"Y/n, I.. I want more..~" He panted, gripping your waist and meeting your humping with vigor.

"I know you do puppy, but this is all you're gonna get."

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Twelve)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Eleven ※※※※※ Chapter Thirteen

I approach my boyfriend seeing him completely tense. The long, callused fingers from the guitar strings tightening in distress. His eyes didn't know where to look, staring into the spotlight like they were monsters from his childhood.

The thick brown coat was a few sizes too big for him, but he's still beautiful all the same. On the eyelids, a black eye shadow ending with a pink tip gave it a charm. The lip balm seemed to bring out the color of his lips, making me restless to kiss him.

“I don't know if it was a good idea.” Luke, let out all the air as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“It was a great idea! You look awesome.” I bite my lip, controlling the urge to take him into a room and do various indecent things. “Just relax and enjoy. As in a play.” I advise him, trying to calm him down."

Ever since the invitation for him to be the face of this perfume had arrived, I was bursting with pride and anticipation to see him doing his photo shoot, following something completely different from the band.

"Don't you think it's too exaggerated?" he asks, unsure of the look. I hold his face in my hands, touching our foreheads. I allow myself to drown in his blue eyes.

“You look handsome.” I say slowly, so he can record my words well. “Now, let's get this quick, because seeing you like this is making me very excited and I don't know how long I can take it.” I sigh, uneasy. Hemmo gives a nice laugh. Glad to see him more relaxed.

Watch out when the photographer yells for them to start. I give my boyfriend a little kiss, ready to pull away, but Luke holds me in his arms still.

“I love you!” he whispers, like a secret.

“I love you!” I give him a little kiss on the tip of his nose. "Anything just scream, I'll be right there." I blink at him.

I take a few steps back, not taking my eyes off his. So as not to bump into anything and make a mess of his work, I turn around, running behind the spotlights and flashbulbs.

I watched the photo shoot totally proud and delighted. Little by little Luke was loosening up and having fun. I don't wipe the smile off my lips, so every time he looks at me, he smiles more.

Nearly three hours later, my excitement was already making me irritated that photo shoot wasn't over and I feel like I lost all control when in the last costume, where Luke rips the white blouse. I hold my breath, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I'm going to make it home and calculating which is closest.

~.~.~.~.~

We left the elevator hand in hand and in hurried steps, we weren't running, but whoever passed us realized we were in a hurry. I squeeze his hand seeing the door with the number 609.

"Thank God." I comment euphoric as Luke opens the door.

He walks in and pulls me to his chest. His hand tangles in the hairs on the back of my neck, enveloping us in a desperate kiss. Urgently, I open the buttons on his shirt, feeling his other hand find my ass, squeezing hard.

I force the fabric to slide down his arms, enjoying the texture of his warm skin. The tequila flavor still inhabits our mouths, which makes the kiss better, plus the soft touch of his lips pressed against mine.

I roll my eyes as his beard scrapes my neck, along with his hot mouth, giving me goose bumps.

“The door.” I say with difficulty, noticing it ajar.

Together, we staggered back a few steps, closing it. Without much patience and with a lot of desire, we ended up staying there. Hemmings presses me against the wood, pulling me into his lap. I scratch the back of his neck when I feel his erection against me, releasing the electricity that seems to rush through my body.

It was amazing how seeing him on stage, with those tight pants and silk shirts moving me. Honestly, he can wear anything, and at the end of the day I'll be falling for him. Not to mention the eyes full of glitter. He had me in the palm of his hands like that. So beautiful. So magnificent.

Luke always knew this look messed with my hormones and destroyed my self-control, and in the end it always ended up like that, having sex, because I couldn't help myself.

Of course, the drink has a big weight in this, but I'm not going to take our blame for this story, after all, we teased each other from the moment we stepped into that dressing room.

The desperation and excitement is such that we reach our first orgasm right there, against the door. No foreplay, no undressing completely, and not caring if anyone passing in the hallway heard anything.

It was something far above lust or desire. Despair to feel our skins against each other. Taste and touch. That feeling of feeling incredible, loved, wanted, as if the only chance to stay alive was there inside of us.

I wake up in a jump. My heart pounded, causing pain. My body seemed to boil, prompting me to kick the covers off quickly. The fresh memory of the dream causes shivers. The way I felt his touch, all those sensations and reactions my body gave.

I lie down on the bed again, wanting to calm down and not think too much about the dream, or what else seemed like, memories. I don't know how to handle it, these are the first sexual memories I have with him. My God, how am I going to look at Luke now?

I pick up my phone, which poin just over an hour earlier than I planned to wake up. Since I know I won't be able to get back to sleep anymore, so I start getting ready for today's meeting.

I decide to have breakfast first and once again review my past contract to get a sense of what will be discussed. Between one paragraph and another, I browse my social networks seeing what's going on.

Without being impressed anymore, I watch a little video or two that some fans make about Hemmo and me. Slightly, I melt at the way we look and smile at each other.

I go back to my room, and head for a shower. I hope that water takes those memories from earlier today down the drain, but the steam seems to open more fields in my brain.

I close my eyes, feeling various parts of my body tingle, as if he's there, touching me, holding me. My breath heaves and my belly tightens. What the fuck is going on?

Cheating on me yet again, my brain presents me with the two of us on the floor of that hotel room. In my kitchen. In the car. In some bathroom. Some of the countless times we'd lost ourselves in each other's arms.

The many times I ran my hands over his chest, drawing a new path, as I thought in that hospital hall. The times his mouth wandered over my body, his hands took me with such force and conviction.

The phone ringtone brings me back to reality. I turn off the alarm and hurry my shower. With Noah's guidance, I change into something comfortable and a bucket hat Calum gave me to hide my pink hair.

After a few hours, I find myself analyzing a huge photo of myself at the Hastings agency reception. With Noah, I follow a huge hallway to a conference room, where Mr. Hastings and a lawyer would be waiting for us. The twin next to me has a hard face, which is weird since Noah is always so excited and smiling.

“Marnie, dear! Long time no see! How have you been? Did you receive my basket?” Mr. Hastings question me without waiting for me to walk right into the room.

“Hi! I'm great and yes, I loved the basket, it was very kind.” I squeeze his hand, not knowing quite what to do.

“Hello son!” it's not exactly a warm welcome, but I want to believe it's just because we're in a work environment, dealing with serious matters.

“Hi Dad. Can we start?” my friend guides me to a chair.

During the meeting, Mr. Hastings clarified some news of the new contract. Things like: salary increase, partnership with new brands and the whole process of publicizing the names that already worked with us.

“Closing here, you will go to the closet to take new measurements. These numbers will be sent to the brands that hired you and they will send you clothes for you to use on a daily basis. For example: if you go out with Leah for coffee, you must wear a Louis Vuitton coat, so the photos you take will publicize the coat and well, nowadays young people find everything and want everything you wear. You will get a scale of which brands to use, so it's easier for you.” Mr. Hastings explains by summarizing a contract sheet.

As for photo shoots, until my arm gets better and I can get rid of the cast, I'll be limited to rehearsals on jewelry, makeup, glasses and shoes. On my hair, if the contracting brand determines, I will have to wear a wig.

I keep mentally reading every line of that contract, wondering if I could handle it all. Well, you’ve handle it for the past two years, it shouldn't be that hard.

As determined, after the meeting, Noah walks me to the closet. A huge space where had several clothes and accessories, as in The Devil Wears Prada. My measurements are taken and I get annoyed when the guy who's putting the measuring tape around my waist grumbles that I've put on weight.

The bad thing about being a model is it, this constant imposition of a perfect body. Since the accident, I don't remember seeing anyone on Leah's foot for her to lose weight or keep her body. I always watched her nervous appetite, not caring if it would add to her number on the scale.

Okay that Leah's biotype was skinny and maybe that made things easier for her. But since I understand myself by people, I've always been short and broad hiped and never cared. And even if I erased a few years, I don't think I've changed much.

From the reflection in the mirror, Noah sinalized for me not to care what the guy says, but I think it's kind of difficult. It's not just him talking about my body, it seems like everyone on the internet has an opinion about my weight, especially some Luke fans.

Blocking in my mind, the offensive words that I always end up reading through social media. However, I keep watching my body in the mirror, wondering if it wouldn't be better to lose some weight.

Soon after having my measurements taken, Noah is called to a meeting with his father and a french businessman, leaving me alone. As I wait for the car to arrive, I consider what I can do on my last day off. Everyone is working and I don't want to disturb anyone.

Finally, I decide to go to my mom's office and have lunch with her. I go down at the door of a huge, mirrored building. At the front desk, I ask about her office, getting a badge before I go upstairs.

The frosted glass door holds a huge space, which occupies one/quarter of the eighth floor. The various prints, fabrics, furniture and color palettes create a fun atmosphere, contrasting with the white walls of the place.

"Marnie! Hey!” a woman with curly hair, tied up in a purple turban, approaches with a huge smile.

“Hi.” I reply politely, but having no idea who she is.

“Oh, sorry.” she seems to notice. “I'm Dominique, your mother's partner.” I open a bigger smile, now informed. "Have you come to see her?" she guides me in the office inside.

“Oh yes, I came to have lunch with her.” Dominique smiles broadly and sympathetically.

"She's going to love the surprise. She's just finishing up with a customer. Want something while you wait?”

“Oh no, thanks!”

Dominique walks away, making it clear that anything was just asking, that I was home. I'm amazed at how things evolved for my mom, before she just had a small room away from the center and now she had all this space and staff.

I watch several people go from one place to another, making projects, budgeting, designing furniture and spaces. My mother's laugh brings me back just in time to see her in her office doorway, rosy cheeks, awkwardly in Mr. Marshall's company.

I open a smile finding the scene adorable. I look for Dominique, hoping she hasn't shut up in her office yet, as she might know something about the two of them. I find the brunette, leaning against the reception desk smiling like me.

"Marnie?" I turn quickly, finding Mr. Marshall next to me. “How have you been?” I hug him while my mother stands wide-eyed in the door.

He hadn't changed much. The face that was once smooth now had a very charming gray beard. The hair was still dark.

“I'm great, thanks. It's great to see you.” I keep my smile, finding it all wonderful, unlike my mother.

“I'm sorry about the accident. I would have send you something, but I didn't have your address and it was a little difficult to reach your mother.” he admits sympathetically. Have I told how much I like him?

“No problems. I’m grateful for your consideration and about you have found my mother again. Isn’t, mom?” her gaze at me turns withering. I'm screwed.

“Well, I'm also very happy to have found Debra again.”

I hold the 'awn' who insists on wanting to leave, when he smiles delightedly at my mother. Man, he's so into her.

“Hm, sorry to be rude, but taking advantage of our meeting, I want to invite you to a new restaurant location opening. It will be this Wednesday.”

“Oh, I'm honored. It will be a pleasure. Right, mom?” I watch my mother want to sink into the ground and disappear, and I can't help think how funny is it. "Do you mind if I invite my friends?"

“No! Of course not! Feel free.” he opens a gentle smile. His gaze flies to my mother and there they stare at each other for a few seconds. “Well, I have to go. Debra, thank you so much for the project, it's beautiful. Marnie, it was a pleasure to see you. Until Wednesday.” he hugs me again. With my mother, I notice them without knowing how to say goodbye.

I wait for Mr. Marshall to leave the office to let out the sigh caught in my throat, which my mother doesn't like.

“Stop this!” she slaps me on my back. I walk into her room laughing at the whole past situation.

“My God, you guys are so in love. Why don't you just assume it?” I ask, sitting in the chair across from her desk.

"Because there isn’t nothing to assume. It's a professional relationship.” she replies angrily, setting the table.

“Mom?” I call her, until she looks at me. I raise an eyebrow, emphasizing that I don't believe her.

Her shoulders slump, letting go of the tension. I watch her hide her face in hands after a sigh. Her eyes catch mine and a nasal laugh breaks the silence, then I see her there, shy and unsure, a small smile, which soon opens, reflecting all over her face.

"I don’t have age for this anymore. I mean…” she takes a bunch of flowers from behind the table. “Look at this.”

"Awn." I cover my face, not taking it. “Of course you have agr for this. If my father can find someone and be happy, then of course you can too. Mom, you're young and beautiful, and there's an amazing guy who's into you. He's clearly in love and apparently he's been doing everything he can to demonstrate, you should give him and… you a chance.” I finish in a whisper, touching myself that those words were good for me too.

I replay in my mind everything Luke has been doing, trying to win me back, and I'm glad that, somehow, I giving both of us a chance, even if it's a non date. I let out a laugh at the memory of the invitation, before letting my mind drift back to this morning's memories.

“I think you're right. Maybe on Wednesday, I can talk to him.” her red cheeks make me smile more.

“It's a great idea. How about we discuss this over lunch?” I suggest, listening to my belly come alive.

“Great idea.” she picks up the phone, dialing something.

Since I had nothing to do, I stay until early afternoon with my mother, gossiping about her crush on Mr. Marshall, about my relationship with Luke, about the meeting and our Wednesday night outfit.

Dominique joins us in a few moments, having fun with my passionate and nervous mom.

Around 3pm, Ashton calls, inviting me out for coffee, just him and me, like old times.

“Why can't I go? Do you not love me anymore?” I cover my mouth, stopping the laughter from coming out, when I hear Calum yell..

“Yeah! I can't take you anymore. How am I going to talk bad about you if you're there?” Ash replies.

"You are talking here. What does it matter to talk there? At least that way you buy me coffee.” Calum rebuts. While the couple argue, I listen to the fight, paying attention to the details of the ceiling.

"Are you still arguing? What the fuck is just coffee? Who is so important for all this? The pope?” I hear Luke arrive and realize he doesn't know I'm the guest.

“It's actually Marnie and from my experiences she's very important to some of the people here.” I don't need to see Ash's face to know he's making fun of Luke.

"Can I go?" I bite my lip, holding back the laugh.

“If you let him go and I don't, I'll never look you in the face again.” Calum gives the ultimatum.

“I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm still here and would like the DTR resolved if possible.” I say out loud, hoping it works.

“Sorry, Marnie. Five seconds.” Irwin asks. I think about making a joke with the band's name, but it's better to leave it alone.

"Is she listening?" Luke speaks in amazement. “Why do you…” then everything becomes too muffled and I can't hear.

“Enough! Nobody goes but me. I want to go out with my friend and I will. Marnie was right, I shouldn't have introduced you.” I hear Ash mumble, causing me to laugh. “Give me your address, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

We ended the call and I return to questioning my friendships. Why God? Why?

Sitting at a small table on the sidewalk, Ash and I discuss which coffee to drink. It wasn't very difficult to know that he loves coffee and understands a lot about the subject, which gives me complete confidence in letting him choose which one I should try.

When the cup reaches the table, I taste the drink under his hopeful, curious gaze. I open a smile, approving of my best friend's choice. I hi-five him, celebrating.

"It was the coffee you had the first time we went out together." he comments with a cute smile.

“Awn, Ash!” I can't stand the way they always remember everything. "So, ready to officially become older tomorrow?" I crack a smile, excited about our dinner tomorrow.

“No! I found a white hair this morning.” he grumbles, eliciting a laugh from me.

“I don’t see anything.” I comment, trying to cheer him up.

"I wasn’t talking about my top hair." he comments, drinking his coffee next.

"Ashton!" I reprimand him, covering my eyes, traumatized. “I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about it.”

I hear his laugh, letting me laugh too. The problem with having intimacy is exactly that, your friends no longer filter out what to say to you.

“So why didn't you bring Cool Guy Cal?” I change the subject.

“Because I spend the whole day with them, I can't stand to look at those disgusting faces anymore.” I laugh, imagining what a mess that studio must be. "And how am I going to speak ill of him with him here?" I complete this last part with him, laughing. “Exactly.”

“And you have something bad to say?” Ash shakes his head.

“No! Cal is an amazing guy.” Boys… “But I wanted to spend time with my best friend. After the accident it was difficult to have time alone. How are you?” I shrug.

"Surviving. It's only been a month and it seems like, I don't know, six. There's still so much I'm discovering.” I look at my coffee thoughtfully as I twirl the spoon in it.

"Finding out what? Your feelings for Luke?” he mocks. I scold him softly, laughing. This is a sensitive subject. "So how was the kiss?" I spit half the hot drink back into the cup.

I look at my friend in full alert. I can't believe Luke told him. We had agreed to wait a while. Irwin kept his smile curious, waiting for my answer.

“I’m sorry…?” he raised his eyebrows and then it hit me. He played and I delivered. "Ashton!" I kick your shin.

“Ouch! You who kiss and I who get beaten?” he rubs his shin, confused.

“How did you find out?” My God, does everyone know already? "Have you told anyone?"

“No! I didn't say anything and I didn't even try it with Luke. But how do you think I wouldn't notice? I've known him for years. He comes down Sunday morning, all smiling, all silly, more than usual. Super in a good mood after a party like that. Hemmings never wakes up in a good mood.”

I take a sip of my coffee, wanting to hide my smile.

“And about you?! You're my best friend! It's easy to see what's going on. Even more after what I already followed the first time. So?” the australian asks curiously, causing me to laugh.

"It was just a kiss. I don't know, it was automatic, and I ended up giving him a little kiss, and he took advantage of the break and kissed me. And I left.” my cheeks heat up as I hold in the sassy smile.

“And what does that mean?” he drops into his chair. I shrug.

“I do not know. I like Luke's company. I really like! He makes me feel safe and so unique. He's fun and so silly.”

"That he is!" Ash comments in a whisper, making me laugh.

“And I like it all, but…” the words don't come out anymore.

“You are afraid.” he completes.

"What if he gets to know me better and he doesn't like this Marnie?" I dry swallow. Ashton grimaces thoughtfully, considering my question.

“Nah!” he shakes his head, dismissing the possibility. “Luke loves you, Marnie. And you know this.” He points a finger at me. I look down, embarrassed. “The only thing left is for you to understand and accept how you feel about him. Of course, in your time, no pressure.” he adds quickly.

My heart speeds up with the direction of the conversation. I organize in my mind all the events that happened between Luke and me. All your discreet and indiscreet advances. All his looks and smiles at me, his shy, goofy way.

On the other side, I put everything that we lived before the accident. Everything I saw and remembered. I stare at Ashton, slumped in his chair, waiting for my answer. I take a deep breath, nodding my head positively.

“I think I already know how I feel about him.”

[bobohunn]

— summary : It was tough for you to trust and open up to people, after all you've been through. When you finally let your walls down, Chanyeol left you hanging. (part 1 of 2)

— pairings : chanyeol x reader

— genre : angst, fluff

— warnings : mentions of anxiety, alcohol, bullying, & gaslighting, hints of sexual assault & harassment, description of anxiety & panic attacks.

— word count : 3.9k words (part 1)

— author's words : hi!!! I'm not really good with titles so this goes untitled for now 😅 I'll add the title when I post the 2nd part 💛 this is not proofread and edited yet pls forgive me. I'd really appreciate it if you tell me your thoughts on this! ☺️

It was a year ago today. The day when you were supposed to wake up with a smile, hearing your family’s thumping steps on the wooden floor on the way to your room. The day when your younger sister was supposed to be running towards you to attack you with kisses, your mom holding out a cake that says ‘happy birthday’, and your father following closely behind them, singing the happy birthday song with his awfully hoarse morning voice, just like the annual tradition. Rather, you woke up to the loud and thunderous knocks on your bedroom door, along with what you recognized as your father’s voice. And the second you turned the lock on the knob, the door flew and a hand met your right cheek.

You were scared, but you weren’t sure what you were scared for. Sure your dad looked scary, his face was blood red, his breathing uneven, and his hands clenched into fists, but you didn’t know what he was acting scary for. You held your cheek, trying to ease up the stinging sensation that lingered. 

“D-dad?”, you managed to stutter out. Your father shut his eyes close and sighed. 

You looked away and noticed your mom and your sister on the wooden staircase behind your dad. Your mom was holding her face in her hands, and your sister was rubbing her back. Only then did you realize that they were both crying.

“M-mom? S-stacy? W-what’s going o-on?”, you choked out, feeling the hot tears that were running down your face.

It was silent again, and you hated it. The silence was deafening and you swore you almost heard the cells in your brain die. You always hated situations like this, it made you feel so anxious and you were about to throw up.

“D-dad, M-mom what’s happening w-why are y–”

“You don’t have to call me dad anymore,” your dad cut you off, and you heard your mom cry louder.

“D-dad w-will you please at least t-tell me what’s going on?”, you said in between sobs, “please?”

Your dad let out another loud sigh, and you noticed his eyes getting misty. “Stacy, give me your phone. Your sister wants to know why, so I’ll show her why”, he said in a firm tone.

Stacy stood up from the stairs and took out the phone from her pocket. She handed it over to your dad, avoiding his gaze including yours. You were practically begging for her to look at you with your eyes while your dad was fumbling with the gadget, but she stood behind him, staring at the floor with her hair covering her face.

Your father handed to you the phone, showing a paused video on the screen. You pressed play, and turned the volume up. You were puzzled to say the least. The video had poor lighting but when the light source hit the surface of a very familiar face in the frame, you dropped the phone, leaving a small crack on the lower left part of the screen.

Your brain tried to put the pieces of information it recently gathered together, but you were about to pass out. Unconsciously shaking, you stumbled on your feet, and dropped to the floor. That was the last thing you remembered before your sight blacked out.

Your life today is a little bit different to how it was a year ago, yet it was still sort of the same. You moved to a different town, a different school, a different environment. It isn’t much worse now, but some people would still look at you and gossip as you pass by the same. Others don’t even stab you in the back, they hit you in the front now.

You moved with your family in the hopes of forgetting everything and starting anew, but unfortunately the news reached your new home too. Your parents insisted that you move places again when people in your school started talking, but you hated the feeling of being an inconvenience. So you did your best to heal and learn how to not a give a fuck to what others say, even if it burnt you out on most days.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be alright, they’re not hurting me anyway,” you said in the softest voice.

“Are you sure? We can just move out of the country, baby. It’s best that we just go, hmm?” she held your hands in one, and caressed your face in the other.

“Yeah. We should just move if you’re uncomfortable here, my love,” your dad added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Then we’d have to spend money again. I know you guys had a hard time adjusting as well, especially Stacy,” you fumbled with the fabric of your shorts, “I’m okay, really.”

But even though you’ve learnt to not give a shit and shrug off what bullshit other people— who don’t even know you, by the way— say anymore over the past months, there are still times when you have to endure how painful the words you overhear from conversations of people in your school are. And when you couldn’t, you’d have to run back to your only safe place in school, the comfort room at the back of the school library to turn into a ball and cry. On some days when you think you’re all better and don’t give a fuck anymore, you hear words you tried so hard to delete from your system, and it makes you want to throw up again.

You hate whoever did this to you. However, over the process of healing, you realized that you hate those people who try to act nice in front of you, act like they care for you, act like they support you, but actually talk rotten behind you more. And you hate people who try to control you into thinking that you are the one to blame, the most, because there are times that their words sting too much you begin to doubt yourself again after trying so hard to convince yourself that you were never at fault.

xx

It’s the first day of the semestral break, and you couldn’t be more happy and relieved to be far from society. You don’t have to do anything but lie down in your comfy bed, and binge watch your favorite shows all day. You can read books you hoarded in the past but never really touched after, as well!

“Y/N! Stacy! Come here, give these apples to our new neighbors!” your mom shouted from the kitchen.

You and your sister, Stacy peeked out of your bedrooms at the same time, and when your eyes met you both sighed. 

“I was watching Stranger Things, I was in the good part!”, you whined.

“I was reading a good fic on Tumblr as well! I was in the climax of the story!”, Stacy stomped her feet playfully and you both giggled.

“Y/N! Stacy! Did you hear me?” your Mom shouted again, which made you and Stacy instinctively run down the stairs.

xx

“Good afternoon Mister– uhmm?”, Stacy said to the man sitting on the balcony outside the house your mom sent you to for a quick mission.

“Park. Mr. Park,” the grown man smiled.

“Oh, nice to meet you Mr. Park! We’re from the house next to yours. We heard you just moved in, so my mom wanted you to have this!” Stacy beamed at him, while you stood behind her quietly.

“Oh I see! What are your names? You should come in! We had a feast for lunch, you should help us finish the food!” Mr. Park said while turning the knob of the front door.

“I’m Stacy, this is my older sister Y/n. My mom’s name is Rachel, and my dad’s is Samuel”, she said as she took off her sneakers.

“How old are you guys? I have a son who’s in the 11th grade, and a daughter who’s gonna be in her 2nd year in university.”

“I’m in 11th grade as well, Stacy is in 9th. We’re in Jungwon Highschool”, you said as you took off your jacket

“You should meet my son then! He’s transferring to Jungwon! But he’s not here now, he took the dog out on a walk in the park”, he said while grabbing plates from the kitchen.

After eating a few sweet fruits, you and your sister headed back home with two full plates of side dishes Mr. Park’s family offered. You passed by a tall unfamiliar guy carrying a black dog on the way back, and you figured maybe he was Mr. Park’s son.

xx

It’s the first day of the spring semester, the weather's been really better the past few days and you couldn’t be any happier because it means you don’t have to wear a heavy coat to school anymore.

While walking to the bus stop, you saw a familiar guy crouching down to pet a kitten.

Cute

He picked the cat up and moved it to a spot away from the pavement onto the bushes, probably for its safety. The moment he turned to your direction, you realized he was the same guy who you passed by once, on the way home from your new neighbor’s house. He was wearing the same uniform as you, and there you confirmed he really was the Parks’ son.

The bell rang and your class adviser went into the classroom. He was with the same guy you encountered earlier, announcing that your class has a new student to welcome.

“My name is Park Chanyeol. Please take care of me”, the guy said as he smiled and bowed down. He took the empty seat in front of you and settled down.

xx

“Pass your quizlets to the president after lunch. Late submissions will have deductions. Is that clear, class?” the 4th period teacher announced as she walked out the room.

The chime rang on the school speakers, and the lunch break started. All your classmates darted out the room, while you stayed in your seat, resting your head on the desk to take a nap like usual. Except, this time you aren’t left alone in the room. Chanyeol stayed, seemingly finishing the quizlet the teacher gave.

“Excuse me, can I borrow your eraser?” He asked, knocking on your desk to get your attention.

“Ah, sure. Here,” you pass him the black piece of soft rubber from your pencil case.

“Didn’t know they sell black ones. I should get myself one like this too. I actually hate when the white ones get dirty,” he rambled on while erasing whatever he had to erase and gave it back to you. You nod sheepishly as a response.

“I’m Chanyeol. What’s your name?” he pursed his lips while waiting for you to answer.

“I’m y/n. I actually live next to you,” you smile, scratching your nape.

Chanyeol was saying something but you weren’t really listening. Not when you heard some girls at the back door say, “what is she doing? Is she flirting with him?” “I seriously can’t believe her, after all that happened to her she has the guts to flirt with boys again?” “Maybe she thinks she can bait the new guy because he’s clueless” “and attractive, too”

You just smiled at him, and rested your head back down again, wearing earphones this time to block out whatever conversations you didn’t have to hear.

xx

You were sitting on the bench outside your go-to place, the comfort room at the back of the school library, watching whatever random videos youtube recommended in the home section. A video of a band doing a cover of some other band’s song came up, and you suddenly heard someone clear their throat from behind you which made you jump a little bit from your seat.

“So, are you into bands?” Chanyeol asked as he sat beside you on the bench.

If you were to be really honest, you grew scared of meeting people through the past year. You really hate it when people bring up things which they are not in the place to talk about. You’d tell them if you wanted them to know, and if you wouldn’t then they just have to accept and respect it, not be a total nosy ass. And unfortunately, everyone who tried to talk to you in this school brought up things you wished they didn’t. It made you feel like they’re only talking to you to know the tea. So you shut them out immediately, afraid to be hurt by them again if you get attached to them.

Which is why you struggled to let out a response to Chanyeol’s curiosity.

Why does he want to know about that? What will he do with that information? What if he uses it against me in the future? I should be careful with what I say, I might give out too much information.

All sorts of thoughts, running in your mind right now.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he realized you were only staring with a surprised expression at him, “is something wrong?”

“U-uhm, yeah. And, n-no. I’m s-sorry,” you looked away, keeping your phone in your pocket.

Chanyeol chuckled, “why are you getting flustered? I don’t bite!”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you purse your lips.

“You’re a shy one, aren’t you? Don’t worry! I’m good at making people open up to me” he said as he placed an arm around your shoulder, to which you flinched at.

And Chanyeol was right, he was good at making people open up to him indeed. He made you feel at ease with his jokes, but more than that, you felt safe at how he doesn’t pressure you to talk about yourself, he just waits for you to willingly share things with him. He just keeps on going on and on about what he wants to say, but he listens attentively the second you open your lips to talk.

"Oh how I love animals so much! I have a dog, his name is Toben but he doesn't listen to me. So i kinda hate him" he said enthusiastically.

"I think I've seen you once with him, the black one?" you recalled.

"Yes that's him! I used to have a cat too but he ran away from home. His name was Bach"

"I actually have a hamster. Her name is Lilie. You should meet her she's a total fluff ball" you said as you took your phone out and show him a picture of your syrian hamster.

"Oh my god she's so cute!" his eyes grew wider than it originally is.

You chuckled, "You must really like pets that much."

"Oh trust me, I even brought a rat home. My mom scolded me so much," and it's you who has wide eyes now.

You grew close to Chanyeol in a span of a few days. You would walk to school and walk home together with him almost everyday. You learned a lot of things about him, while he was also able to slowly make you open up to him. The both of you would ramble about random things while doing homework or eating dinner at each other’s house, but he never crossed the borderline and asked you about your past. You couldn’t be more grateful that you found a friend like him. It’s the bare minimum, but it’s important to you and no one really does it like that anymore, not for you at least.

“What’s the square root of 441?” He asked, biting the tip of the pen he was holding.

“21, I think? Let me check,” you said as you took out the calculator in your backpack.

“It’s okay I got it aaaand— Wow! You’re right!” He jumped out of his seat and ruffled his fluffy brown hair in amusement. You chuckled and took a sip from the tea his mom made for you.

“You’re amazing, how do you know that? Did you just mentally solve that?” He sat back down again.

“Of course not. I liked maths so much as a kid, I memorized the perfect squares at some point.” you mumbled, redirecting your focus back to the homework in front of you.

“In many years of living, I never once met someone who memorized perfect squares” Chanyeol said as he held his face in his big hands.

“Now you did”

He chuckled, “Yeah, memorable. Anyway, are you free this friday?”

You bit your lip in sudden anxiety, “I-i don’t know. N-not sure. Why?”

“Some of our classmates are going to a party, and they invited me,” he hesitated a little before he continued, “I just wondered if you wanted to come? With me?”

You feel your heart beat faster, “No, sorry. I think I’ll be helping my dad on Friday.”

“Oh it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” whispered Chanyeol, looking back down to his homework.

Friday came, and you thought it was weird to walk home alone for the first time. You got used to chatting with Chanyeol while on the way home, and now it was completely silent. When you got home, you threw yourself to your bed. You decided to get your laptop and binge watch another series on netflix.

It was around 7:30 pm when your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID and picked up hesitantly when you realized it was Chanyeol’s. “Why would he call so suddenly though?” you whispered to yourself.

“Chanyeol?” You said as you bring the phone up to your ear.

“hey Y/N! What’s up?” he chirped weirdly, probably drunk.

“Nothing much. Are you drunk?”

“I’m wasted. They tricked me, they said it was juice. They tricked me, y/n!” you cringed at how much he was slurring his words. It was obvious that alcohol was already in control of his system.

“How are you gonna get home?”

“I don’t know. Everyone is drunk here and–” he hiccuped, “they’re all nasty. I wanna go home”

You paused for a bit, checking the time on your laptop. “Turn on your location and stay there. I’ll pick you up”

Chanyeol nodded and hummed from the other line. You quickly ended the call to run to your closet to grab a jacket, and leave the house.

You didn’t know if you were dumb or stupid, but you were sure you were either. 

Why would you suggest picking him up? From a house party? Which you avoided so much with all your might?

When you reached the house that showed up on Chanyeol’s location— which took you 30 minutes to find, you had to pat yourself on your shoulders and remind yourself that you were doing it for a friend, and if you were just gonna walk away, this friend might get in trouble. You inhaled deeply before entering, a pool of evidently alcohol intoxicated bodies welcoming you.

It took you only a few seconds to spot Chanyeol, the only giant in the room. But it took you a few minutes to get to him because as he said, the crowd was pretty nasty.

“Alright time to go home now big buddy, let’s go” you tapped Chanyeol on his forearms, bracing yourself in case he’d stumble and fall.

“Goodbye my friends!” Chanyeol screamed over the booming music from the speakers. “You’re leaving already?” a familiar voice replied, and you realized it was one of your classmates, Max.

You only nodded at him after flashing a small smile. “Are you seriously going Chan? It’s too early! We haven’t been to the fun part yet!” Max said before taking a sip of whatever alcohol from his red cup.

“What fun part? I think I’m just gonna go home, Max” Chanyeol replied, seemingly sobering up a little.

“Oh you know, the fun part! When all the chics get wasted!” your mind was getting hazy at what you heard, and you nearly lost your balance. Your grip on Chanyeol’s sweater got tighter, which made him look at you.

But he didn’t answer Max, instead he turned away. You took that as a signal to go. “Yeol, the door is this way” you told him as you tug on the sleeve of his sweater.

The walk back home was messy. Chanyeol was silent but he was walking in zig zags and you had to hold him up a couple of times because he would fall asleep while walking.

“Y/n?” you hummed in response.

“Nevermind” he replied. Honestly you were nervous, what did he want to say? Is something wrong? But you only let it go.

“Y/n.”

“Yes Yeol?”

He stopped walking, “Why don’t you ever tell me anything about you?”

“What do you m-mean? I tell you about myself too,” you managed to mumble out.

“No, you don't,” he said in a tone an octave lower.

You held onto his arm again and dragged him with you, “Yeol, you’re drunk let’s go now.” He allowed you to pull him and just walked along, still in zig zags.

When you were in front of his house you took your phone out to call his sister, to help you get him in. You helped him sit down on the chair outside while waiting for her to pick up.

“Y/n, you know I’m not one to pry, right?”

You looked at him in confusion, you slowly nodded. You waited for him to continue.

“But I really have to ask this,” he said as he played with the zipper of his backpack in his hands, not looking at you.

“What is it?” you shivered.

“By any chance, were you from Hyundai Highschool?” he finally looked at you, straight in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to do or what to feel. He was sober now, and you could tell he knew what he was talking about. Many questions were popping in your mind, yet your brain felt empty.  You weren’t able to form anything to say. You only backed away from him, and then ran away.

You went straight to your room, ignoring your father’s attempt to hug you. You fell to the floor the moment you closed the door.

Why did he ask you that?

How did he find out?

Were people talking about you at the party?

Did someone gaslight you at the party, again?

Will he judge you too?

You spent the whole weekend locking yourself up in your room, overthinking about the same things over and over again. You were almost sure someone told him from the party, and he will probably think differently about you now. But you are honestly hoping that he wouldn’t. He’s a good guy, isn’t he? 

Monday came, and you were mentally preparing yourself to talk to Chanyeol while preparing your lunch box. You made sure to go out earlier than usual to wait for him so you could walk to school together, but to no avail. There was no sign of your giant friend going out of the house next to yours. You had to run to school or you would be late for the first period.

When you reached the classroom you looked around but Chanyeol wasn’t there. You caught your breath and sat down quietly on your seat. There was barely 2 minutes left before the first period, and you were worried for Chanyeol.

“Hey Y/n, where’s Chanyeol? You didn’t come together?” one of your classmates asked. You shook your head no, but suddenly the back door opened.

There he is

He took his seat in front of you but he didn’t spare you a smile, not even a glance.

The whole day went by with Chanyeol avoiding you and ignoring your attempts to talk to him. He looked at you at some point, but with sad eyes and a small smile. After that, you decided to give up and let him be.

You know—you think you do, why he was acting that way, and you don’t blame him for it. But you at least need to hear it from him, rather than assume things which could be entirely wrong. 

You didn’t expect him to pull you to the school garden at dismissal, though.

“Y/n. I know I’ve been such a horrible friend today,” he paused. He looked down, avoiding your eyes.

“but I don’t think we should be friends.”

[iplaymatchmaker]

Hi there, me again, if I read the rules correctlyyou said we could do a separate ask for a separate game. If I read incorrectlyplease just ignore this, if not if my first ask wasn't to much I'd love to ask for an ikerev matchup as well! I'm bi, female (she/her) sagittarius sun, virgo rising, libra moon, ENFT. I'm 5'2, chubby/curvy w/ great boobs, I have longer  brunette hair w/ peekaboo highlights (they've been every color, but currently pink), brown eyes, glasses/contacts, 7 piercings & 26 tattoos. I'm very empathetic (sometimes to a fault) and have sever anxiety and depression. It takes me awhile to warm up around new people and be myself. I often feel intimidated in big social settings, such as parties, and often use alcohol for some liquid courage to help me let loose and be me in those situations. I've suffered some emotional and mental abuse at the hands of a step parent which has left me with some trauma and triggers; people raising their voice at me or making quick movements toward me or in my direction usually result in me crying and secluding myself for awhile. Oh and I have daddy issues, thanks absent father. That said I also don't do great with authority, I hate being told what to do, and I hate being told no. I can put up with a lot of shit, but eventually it usually becomes a 'straw that broke the camels back' situation and I fly off the handle and then break down. I am also extremely generous and do all I can to help my friends and family when they need it. I have some self confidence issues from weight gain, and I usually feel my best when I'm dolled up with my makeup on and hair done, usually with a dress and heels. I'm a Ravenclaw thats hates to read, but I love learning & know tons of trivia; like I know so many random facts about so many things from history, to movies, to graveyards, and much more. I often correct people on things, which some perceive as me belittling them, but its never my intention I'm just trying to share my knowledge and trying to help them. I am very creative I love crafting; resin art, macrame, cross stich, those are just some of my favorite things to do art wise, I also enjoy coloring books. I love to laugh and think I'm pretty funny, I usually have a dark sense of humor, if you don't like humor we won't vibe together, and if you can't make me laugh we will not be a good relationship match. I like to go to the bar and do karaoke, it's one thing I've learned I'mvery good at. It took me about 2 years, but I've since learned to be confident with my singing and now its one of my favorite things to do. I drink, obviously, gin and tonic is my favorite. I also smoke, I love my hookah, and I've had my medical card for about a year and it's done wonders for my insomnia and cramps. For about 2 years I've been getting severe cramps and stomach pains, and after 5 er trips in a month they didn't find anything, its still a mystery but at least the bud helps the pain. l'm very into the witchy aesthetic; my style is either very Stevie Nicks, pinup, or 2009 emo/scene depending on the day. I collect animal skulls and bone, taxidermy, crystals, and plants; I also practice the craft & love to make spell jars for people. I love tarot and really enjoy doing it. I live for Halloween & enjoy all things macabre! My favorite show is That 70's Show and if I could live in a replica of the Forman's house that would be my dream. I am also very sex positive and rather adventurous in bed. I'm a brat and a voyeur, I'll get down with just about anything. My love language is giving and receiving gifts. I put alot of thought into holidays like Christmas, I plan months in advance to make sure I get everyone the perfect gift; but I also will sometimes see something that just reminds me of someone and have to get it for them. That is all I can think of right now to add about myself. I'd love 4 and/or 10 for the prompt part. And again thank you for doing these, I'm such a ho for them, and again I'm sorry its long.

I match you with

Edgar!

Thank you so much for requesting 🥰🥰! I’m sorry this took so long, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it ❤️! I Hope you don’t mind the sprinkle of angst in the second ask.😅

I was thinking Ray at first, but I ended up going with Mr smooth, since Ray is too predictable after Nap.

Edgar is known among the red army officers as the person who will make you feel safe, especially during your first encounters with them, before you find out they’re all dorks.  What he doesn’t expect is how at home he feels when the two of you are together. He never feels like he’s being judged when he’s around you and he lets himself go, despite the indoctrination by Claudius that he should always keep people at a distance to avoid being viewed as weak.

Not long after the two of you met, he decides to take you out along with Kyle for a drink, to help you get more accustomed to Cradle and its people. When you realize how much Kyle loves to drink, you follow suite, the two of you very quickly getting tipsy. Edgar laughs at the two of you for a bit, happy to see a new side of you as you allow yourself to grow more comfortable with them. Eventually he leads the two of you outside of the pub and arranges for a carriage to take you all back to headquarters, trying his hardest to tame the both of you.

He absolutely loves it when you sing to him, especially after a particularly hard day of work. He relaxes at the sound of your voice, often drifting off. It touches him more than he would like to admit when he finds you’re still there when he wakes up.

You are a light in his life and he wants to give back in kind, often dedicating his days off entirely to you. He loves giving you gifts, or surprising you with a romantic dinner to show his appreciation to you, for being there and understanding him.

While he doesn’t have the creativity to participate in most of your hobbies, he loves to watch you do it. The amount of passion you show for your art, the way your eyes light up when you’re working, is a picture perfect moment that he could look at for hours.

Prompt 4: Meet cute:

You couldn’t stop fidgeting as you stood outside the Red Army Headquarters, waiting for Kyle to fetch someone to help you. After you told him about burglars breaking into your house he insisted he get one of the officers to help you, despite you doubts. It was hard not to worry as you considered the prospect of having to turn to Jonah for help, knowing how hard he could be to communicate with, capable officer or not.  

When Kyle finally emerged, it wasn’t Jonah walking next to him, but a man you didn’t recognize.  

“Sorry for the wait. He’s not easy to find.” The man stood a few heads higher than you but his softer features and aura helped to make him quite welcoming. You begun to relax at his presence, wondering if he was as smooth as he seemed.

“Edgar Bright, at your service.” He offered you a gloved hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. His grip was soft but secure. He was smooth.

“Kyle filled me on the details but I’ll need a statement from you as well.” You tensed up, the idea of an interrogation being especially daunting considering you didn’t know much more than they did.

“No need to worry, it’s simply protocol. You can trust we will find whoever did this without any turbulence.” There was something very reassuring about him. Something that makes you think everything will be all right.

“Thank you.”

 The two of you left Kyle behind, retreating to Edar’s room to discuss the details of the investigation. After he poured two cups of tea he took the seat opposite you, as if the two of you were about to chat about the weather.

“Could you give me the details of what happened? It would be very helpful to hear it straight from the source.” You took a sip before starting with your statement, hoping to calm your nerves.

“I don’t know much more than you do. I was out for work most of the day and when I came back the place was a mess and many valuables were missing.” he seemed to have switched to work mode, completely focused on you.

“What time did you leave for work that day? And when did you return” he scribbled down on a piece of paper, his hand practically moving on its own.

“I left around 8 and came back around 6, I think.” When he put the pen down his attitude returned to relaxed gentleman status.

“I will start with asking the people who might have been present at the scene. I’ll get back to you once I’ve made some progress.” The conversation was over but you found it hard to leave. It didn’t feel right letting one man do the investigation on his own, despite it being his job. It was your house that had been rambled after all.

“I want to help as well. I know my way around the area, I can get in touch with some people.” His eyes widened, seemingly taken aback for the first time that day. He quickly composed himself, smiling again. You noticed something different about it now. Something in his expression told you he was more interested than before.

“I wouldn’t say no to a lady.” You smiled for the first time after the incident.

“Let’s get going then.”

 Prompt 10: Admission Of Feelings.

You continued working on the investigation for the next few weeks, the two of you growing closer by the day.

“There don’t seem to be any witnesses, but it’s unlikely no one was present. The break in happened in the middle of the day.” He rested his head on his chin, not touching the parfait sitting in front of him.

“Maybe they were there but didn’t notice anything. It’s not hard for a professional to pick a lock discreetly.” They two of you sat in silence for some time, both lost in your own theories of what happened that day.

He must have realized your worries, turning on his comfort face.

“We’ll find them. Don’t worry.” Usually you found his words comforting, but you couldn’t keep the frustration from your voice when you looked up at him.

“Realistically speaking, it’s probably not going to happen. They made a clean escape and left nothing behind. You don’t need to baby me, I can put two and two together.” Despite the harshness of your tone, you found him smiling, after the initial surprise wore off.

“You never cease to amaze me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never left him, his eyes turning to the window. He was up and out of the café before you could ask what he had seen.

“What the-“when you looked in the direction of the culprit, you shot up, following after him.  

A man stood outside your door, seemingly fighting with the door. When he noticed the two of you approaching him, he dropped his bags, taking off before you could reach him.

“Stop!” Edgar run after him, his speed taking you by surprise, making it hard to catch up.

The man took a sudden turn, heading towards the narrow alleys of Central Quarter, giving you an important disadvantage in the chase.

Your legs ached and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. When you thought you couldn’t keep going, you rounded a corner to find Edgar, sitting on top of the man, pinning him in place. If he was tired from the chase, it didn’t show.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if it was you who broke in a few weeks ago?” his gaze was cold and his grip was tight on the man’s shoulders.

“I- I just- I-it wasn’t me!” Edgar ignored him, turning towards you. Something flickered in his eyes, but loud footsteps coming your way didn’t let him act on whatever it was.

“The Jack? Sir, what happened? We heard the commotion and came to investigate.” A handful of Red Army soldiers stood in front of you, their eyes switching between Edgar and the man under him.  

“Take this man back to headquarters. I will interrogate him later.” Edgar pulled the man up, pinning his hands behind his back.

“Yes sir!” when the men led the thief away there was silence. Edgar’ kept his head low, not looking you in the eye as he tried to calm his breathing, the adrenaline of the chase slowly fading away. You knew you should be happy the man had been caught, but something was wrong in the atmosphere. You weren’t sure if you should speak up, or let him ride whatever it was out. He didn’t give you time to think on it, finally walking toward you. His hands were shaking when he reached out to touch your shoulders, a mixture of frustration and worry in his eyes.

“You…. Why…” you weren’t sure what to say, so you put your arms around him instead, hoping it would offer him some comfort. You stayed like that for some time, until his hands stopped shaking.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” His words were muffled by the fabric of your shirt. When he lifted his head again, something inside him seemed to snap.

“You shouldn’t have followed me. What if something happened? You could have gotten hurt.” He looked away, his eyes shut tight. You wondered what image was going through his head to cause him so much pain. You cupped his face, forcing him to face you.

“Edgar, look at me.” And he did. The sight of you seemed to calm him down.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m right here.” It took some time for the words to register, but when they did his face moved closer to you. You encouraged him, pulling him closer, your lips connected in a brief kiss. When he pulled away he took a step back, as if scared he had hurt you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You moved closer, smiling up at him.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Except maybe pulling away.” You laughed. When he realized you might feel the same way he took your hands in his.

“You’re an amazing woman.” He paused to gather his breath before meeting your gaze again.

“If the thought wouldn’t be appalling, could I see more of you, outside of work?” you couldn’t keep the laughter inside.

“Appalling? Edgar, do you think I would kiss someone I find appalling?” you pulled him back in, hoping to get your point across.

“I’ll never get enough of this.” His smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

“I’ll hold you to that. Because we’re just getting started.” The moon was bright above you as you laughed, your happiness overflowing.

[yuvon-writes-letters]

Hey guys :)

Maybe I'm going chronological for one time, so I can sort my thoughts easier.

Yeah, Goldie's much mire active than I would've thought, too. But they did all those things to keep me alive and kind of save, since we still don't know who they are exactly working against. (I mean, we don't know who Goldie exactly is either, but you get my point)

Honestly, I am pretty sure the TSB timeline is continuing, at least if my theory that Goldie just set me back in an alternate timeline is true. In this case I feel sorry for TSB, though..Extremely sorry. He still was 'my' Jake back then, even though he acted weird in the end (maybe was manipulated by entities). I mean, if what he wrote was true he went with authorities. And in the end..this could've been his downfall.

And yeah, maybe I'm not exactly safe, but I just have to go back. If I go, and if I lose my job, I have some things to sort out. And Jake luckily agreed with me that clearing up my desk isn't the worst thing I can do before leaving. We're still thinking about a location, which I could luckily deside myself. Max agreed on that. Even though he still has some doubts. (I mean, of course...His cousin opened the door with bruises all over her face.) He did promise to not ask any questions until I feel ready, though. That gives myself and Jake some time to figure that out.

And also, Jake is right! We have three Jakes and three smart people. YUVON. And of course Goldie, like you said Yu :) And some information about the previous timeline. (And that was it with being chronological)

So yeah, like I said, Max and I'll go. And I also think we can be pretty certain now that the message came from Goldie not the MWAF (which is relieving). I saw the messages and they didn't make Jake the bad guy. I honestly just don't think I can quote them yet. (They're too good, but I probably start daydreaming if I do) But they talk about Jake being an important part of my life and my heart and Max protecting me when he cannot. My dear cousin jumped to conclusions when he saw my bruised face. About Max' phone...I'll probably throw it in a river or something if he brings it with him. I told him not to, also because of Jake (he's not only worried about the MWAF apparently...He didn't exactly say it out loud, but I think it's pretty obvious) but he loves this device.

And I emphasize with you about the being kidnapped thing, you'll manage it, I know it :) And if I need to jump dimensions and box some sense into your Crow-Crew xD

No but for real, you can do that. I know it :)

Jake, find a good point in time to talk to her. But do it :)

Otherwise, I still think the 'underlying desire' theory is a possibility! But, like always in the moment, we could be wrong.

As for my stasis, I really do not wish to talk to more people who think I've been kidnapped. And I am a bit scared that could somehow lead to either them or me being in more danger again. But for now we have to wait.

I for now will pack some important things and paper & pens xD I don't want to leave y'all behind :P

Liska🐾🔥

[A screenshot is glued to the back of the letter and the quick sentence "Jake wants to talk to Jake" is written above]

Hello Jake, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am not quite sure in which way Liska will handle giving you my message, but she promised me to not read it for now.

I don't know whether she told you before or not, but as far as I am concerned she realised I am not only worried about the MWAF chasing her.

With me breaking out of this stasis I am sure that my followers aren't that far behind. And I know you can't do anything from where you are, but cross checking way to protect her doesn't seem to bad to me. Especially since we are similar but still fairly different from each other. At least it seems like that from what I have read.

For my part, I recently improved and updated Nym-OS which allows me access to Liskas whereabouts. If Yuvon should read this, she knows and agrees to it.

Still I am yet stuck on one little detail: I am trying to help Nym-OS in counterattacking. So, even though I am sure you already knoe this yourself, Nym-OS gets the ability to access location of the people attacking Liskas phone. I am almost done with that, so we are able to see a bit easier if and where people are that could be a danger.

Do you have any other ideas for ways I could help? Or even improve what I am doing momentarily. I wouldn't normally ask this since I know and trust my skills, but I think that this is fairly different from a 'normal situation'.

~ Jake

Lis,

Um. I don't know if you've seen the newest person to send in a letter, but we now have an issue.

Jessy, if you're reading this, I was sort of trying to avoid talking about this right away but I'm sort of trapped in a weird place, and Jake's here too because I'm a dumbass. I did not, so you know, let him read your letter or my reply. I figured you wouldn't want that. Sorry for dancing around the issue earlier :/ But at least you can get a good sample of the complete insanity we go through on the regular now!

Yeah... you're getting thrown into the deep end right now, aren't you. Sorry. There's no way to ease into this. You should probably either stop reading these entirely or start reading the letters from the beginning, so this will all at least make some sense. The first letter should start with the words "To whoever reads this," just so you know you get the right one.

Back to you, Lis. Yeah, I feel pretty bad for TSB Jake too. I honestly can't imagine being in his position right now.

Alright. So, you can choose the place. Great! There's way less chance of you being caught that way...

Tragedies just seem to be happening to all us Duskwood detectives, recently, don't they? Rai is chronically overworked and barely has time to sleep, I'm stuck in this hellhole and I've been forgotten by most everyone, you were shot, and poor Matt died and... well.

I never knew him, but I feel really bad for him :(

You could give Max half the truth. Tell him you have a stalker, and he's starting to get physical. Jake has been trying to help you get away from the asshole. It's not even a lie, just... not the full truth. Because. You know. The whole truth is completely fucking insane.

Writing to Jessy just put into perspective how insane everything is, I think. Gimme a sec.

Oh, fuck. My Jessy just texted me. Great timing.

Jeez that whole thing with me leaving myself out was just a joke XD If I knew you and Jake would take it so seriously, I'd never have said anything. I'll steer clear from now on.

Yeah, okay, definitely Goldie. That makes way more sense. I don't think you have to be quite so drastic as destroying the phone. Just get him to leave it at home for the trip.

Ahaha, thanks. I don't think that's necessary, though. Actually, seeing future!Jessy's perspective has caused a bit of a paradigm shift. I think I might need to reconsider what all to tell and not to tell the Crow Crew. I just sort of default to keeping things secret, now, but you've seen how well that worked for me with you and Rai, and with Jake.

Again, you probably should wait for them to contact you first, but you WILL need to talk to them when that happens. What you say to them and what you don't is up to you.

Pack a couple different pens XD We're all a bit long-winded.

That's all from me :)

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hallo, Lis.

Yuvon refuses to tell me what precisely she means about Jessica. Was she somehow contacted by an alternate version of Jessica? If so, how?

I am glad it was Goldie who contacted Max. Yuvon's suggestion for an excuse seems a good one, as there are far less things to remember that way. You simply need to oversimplify everything.

I do not, unfortunately, entirely believe that Yuvon was joking when she made that comment, based on previous comments and her ongoing guilt. I can't understand sometimes why she feels the need to lie so much. It is difficult for me to read people, much less her.

I will speak to her eventually. Early tomorrow, perhaps, if nothing else rears its head. Yuvon looks tired, and I am also admittedly not at my peak. I sincerely hope she does not wake up as early as she does every single day. It may get somewhat taxing, what with the lack of coffee here.

I think that is all from me to you, Lis. If you would kindly find a way to send the next section to my counterpart without looking at it, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you :)

—Jake and Yuvon

Jake,

It is a pleasure to meet you as well, despite the unusual circumstances.

That our pursuers may be freed from the stasis is a logical conclusion. Seeing as the last known location I had on them in my universe was approximately five hundred miles from Duskwood, they will likely be some of the first to free themselves from the stasis. I do not believe I need to warn you that time is of the essence.

It seems as if I am a small distance ahead of you in the development of countermeasures, perhaps because I have had more linear time to develop them. If you are where I think you are at in the development, you likely have or will soon hit a bug you cannot pin down that makes the pinpointing mechanism simply refuse to work at all. Presuming your and my version of NYM-0S are similar enough, the issue should lie in the public bool set in line 132 of the third part of the targeting script, the script that decides what constitutes a target; you have it defaulted to "false" where it should default to "true".

As for additional countermeasures: I was attempting to work on a rudimentary automated system of pattern detection when I was brought here. Essentially, its function would be such that it would be able to triangulate using the locator features already installed to find a rough estimate of where their headquarters might be. However, I have not found any way thus far to eliminate outliers, and as such the feature is currently next to useless. I am no longer able to work on the code, but perhaps you will have more luck than I did.

That is all I can think of for the moment on that subject. However, I have an odd theory on what may be part of the reason we vary so. If you have a moment to spare, please answer me this:

When I was very young, back when Mother was still around, she took me to a doctor for odd behaviors. This included not looking people in the eyes, but there was a list. I was given a diagnosis; if you had the same experience, you should likely know which one.

Did you have this experience? If so, please prove it by stating what the diagnosis was.

Do not worry if you do not know what I am talking about; I would rather you did not guess. Simply state that you don't know. It will confirm my theory.

Good luck with your pursuers.

—Jake

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings: nothing other than some swearing and maybe a little angst if you squint (?)

A/n: chapter 2 it's finally here!! I don't know how to feel about this since I've hit writers block quite a few times while writing this,I wanted to make it longer than the first one, which it is, but I don't know. Sorry about the moodboards they're easy and fun to do, so I'll probably do more lmao. Thanks for reading and feedback is always appreciated :) anyway enjoy!!

The first night at her father’s cabin was spent reminiscing of all the times she has been there when her family was complete. Her father was a fisherman, so he usually would wake the girls up and take them to the lake to teach them how to fish. Y/n was quite good at it, her sister Remy on the other hand was not kin of the early activities her father would take them to.  Y/n found her father’s old fishing roads at the back of the house; she’d probably end up selling them or donating them to the local shop back in town.  It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be.  It’s been five years since her father had passed and the wound was still fresh; her father had been her best friend through life.  He was a kind man with a wicked sense of humor, he was the backbone of their family, so when he passed it was harder and harder to go back home to her mother who apparently didn’t took him long to find someone else to spend the rest of her life with.  That was something Y/n wasn’t happy about; is not that she didn’t want for her mother to be happy, on the contrary, it was that her father’s death was still very much fresh on her mind and she was not ready to move on from that just yet.  That was part of the reason why she moved back to his old cabin; to make peace with his death, and try to live a happy life just like her father had wanted for her.

So far she wasn’t doing a good job at it. 

In the mess that her father had left on the basement of the house she found more and more stuff that belonged to him and it was hard for her no to cry; being surrounded by her father’s presence was something she wasn’t quite ready to do apparently.  She found his old camera inside of a box.  The box was filled with Polaroid’s of her, some with her sister and her mother and some of the house.  His father was an amateur photographer and that camera was a gift from her in his 50’s birthday.  He loved It so much that he took it everywhere with him.  He used to say that a picture could tell a better story than words could muster, which it used to annoy her given that she was a writer; writing was her life and for her father to say something like that would make her roll her eyes, but now looking at the photographs she realized he was right.  There he was smiling at the camera hugging her closer to his body, laughing because he was squeezing her so hard that her face could barely be seen, nevertheless her sister took the picture.  She sniffed looking around and drying her tears, it was going to be harder than she thought.  She grabbed the box and the camera and took them upstairs with her, promising that tomorrow she would organize everything and would set her life in motion.  After all she would do it for her father, if not for her.

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

It was seven a.m. when she heard a knock on her door and groaned, hoping that whoever was brave enough to disrupt her sleep would just go away, but of course she wasn’t that lucky. The knocking intensified until she threw the covers of her bed and shivered when the cold morning air hit her warm body.  Apparently sleeping with a short sleeved shirt and some shorts wasn’t a good idea in winter.  She opened the door without looking who it was; she was already in a bad mood, one: because who the hell comes all the way to the middle of the woods to wake someone up at the crack of dawn –overdramatic as always—and two: nobody knew she was back in town so who the hell was banging on her door so early? Her question was quickly answered when she was face to face with non-other that the annoying man from yesterday.

“What are you doing here?” she asked confused “and so early in the morning” she added bitterly trying her hardest to show her distaste of his visit.

“Good morning to you too” the guy replied sarcastically. “Like I told you yesterday, your father put me in charge of his place and since you’re here now, and since I’m sure you’re not aware of how a cabin is run, I thought I’d explain to you, so you don’t tear this place down” he said smiling at her now, showing a cute smile that made her stomach turn but not in a good way. He was cocky and she didn’t like that. Not that much at least.

“Is it necessary that you come here at 7 a.m. to do this?” she asked through gritted teeth. She couldn’t believe the audacity of this man.

“Yes, because unlike you I can’t lose my time with people who decided to come live in a cabin in the middle of the woods because her life in the big city wasn’t working for her” he said dryly, almost as if he was angry about it.  Y/n was taken aback with his response and look at him in disbelief, partly because of how quickly his playful and cocky attitude changed to a more serious and dark one, and partly because he was right about her reason for coming back to Mystic so suddenly. It was true that her life in the city was not going well and she thought some fresh air from the small town that saw her grow would be a good change, but she wasn’t going to give this stranger man the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He was so right.

“Excuse me Mr. Grinch” she said, earning a glare from the boy. “I don’t need you here. I’ve spent years in this cabin; I know exactly how to keep this place running okay? So you can go now and steal Christmas or whatever that Grinch’s like you do” she said turning around leaving the boy standing at the door.  It was her second day back in town and she was already infuriated with this man. Who the hell does he think he is to talk to her like that?

The man on the other hand was fuming; he didn’t like her attitude, and he certainly didn’t like to be compared to one of the most famous grumps in the world, especially by someone who didn’t even know him. He had his reasons to be that way, to be guarded against everyone and everything; that was at least his justification for his shitty attitude, but Y/n was not going to put up with that.

“Listen city girl, I’m not here to discuss how you should or should not do, your father gave me explicit instructions to keep this place intact, and unlike you, I plan to follow them” he said walking closer to the girl. Y/n was angry now. She didn’t even have her morning coffee and she was already arguing with a man, her morning could not be better. Before she could start spewing insults at the boy he started talking again.

“Do you know how much firewood you need to survive the winter? Because no offense but I don’t think chopping wood is one of your strong suits. Or do you know how to properly clean and dry the wood? Or do you know what kind of stain you need to use in this particular house? I’m sure you do right, since you’ve always came here?” he asked question after question making the girl fell smaller with each one. It was true that she didn’t know much about what it took to keep cabin running, but she was stubborn as hell and was not going to back down from an argument, not when her pride was on the line.

“I don’t need some lumberjack wannabe to tell me how to take care of my house, I can always talk to someone else, or hire someone to the maintenance for me” she replied smugly, enjoying the way his face contorted with each word she said. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair trying to calm himself down, it wasn’t ideal that he was stubborn as hell too.  Their personalities collided and no one was going to back down if that meant admitting they were wrong.

“Your father asked me to take care of this place, and I will do it whether you like it or not” he said looking straight into her eyes.  She would be a big fat liar if she said that his stare wasn’t doing things to her.  Her stomach twisted and her heartbeat accelerated looking at the man in front of her. He was hot and handsome as hell, his brown eyes became darker the more frustrated he got and she imagined herself in a different situation with those brown eyes staring at her with such intensity. She quickly shook her head to get rid of such sinful thoughts and cleared her throat trying to come remember what he said last.

 The brown eyed boy wasn’t too different from her. His eyes darted towards her chest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra and the cold air of the morning made her nipples hard, but she was too engrossed trying arguing with him to notice. But he did notice my god.  He removed his eyes quickly from her chest and the next thing he noticed was her long legs; he imagined himself in a different situation where her legs would be wrapped around his waist. He shook his head gently removing those thoughts from his head, hopefully she wouldn’t have noticed the way he was checking her out. She didn’t, but she did ask him a question.

“What?” he said feeling stupid for thinking about taking the woman in front of him against the nearest wall, instead of listening to her.

“I asked what your name is, or should I call you Grinch?” she asked with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“I’m Richard, but everyone just calls me Dick.”

------

The following day Y/n woke up early that day with the intention of doing some work around the house.  She wasn’t sure yet what would happen to the cabin; she thought about selling the place once she finished with the maintenance and some remodeling.  A cabin in the woods would give her some good money; but detaching herself from the house where she spent half her childhood and teenage years was hard.

She still had time though.  She was taking some time away from the city so spending time away from everyone and being on her own would do her good. Or at least that was what she said to herself.  She decided after having her second breakfast –which consisted of some coffee—that she needed some groceries if she was going to spend the winter in the woods.  The stores weren’t so far from the cabin so she grabbed her wallet, keys and wrapped herself in her warmest clothes to go out and face the winter of Connecticut.  She made it into town in twenty minutes.  It was snowing slightly when she got out of the car, she had park just in front of Mrs. Bradley old market. That place was already when she was a kid and apparently was still standing strong. Mrs. Bradley was the nicest woman she had ever met, the woman would always sneak a candy or two for her and her sister when they were shopping with her dad, her mother didn’t like that and scoffed whenever that happened but Mrs. Bradley would pay no mind and do it whenever she could.  The bell atop of the door dinged when she entered the shop, making the old woman lift her gaze and when she recognized a smile stretched across her lips.

“Y/n! Oh look at you!” the old woman beamed at her making her smile even bigger. The woman moved from her spot behind the register to hug the girl, which the later reciprocated with as much enthusiasm as the woman.

“You look so beautiful; look how much you’ve grown!”

“Thanks Mrs. Bradley you’re looking good too, didn’t age a day.”

“Lucky for you flattery would get you everywhere with me” the woman said, making the girl laugh. One thing she loved about this town was the people.  Most of the town had seen her grow from a little kid to the woman she is today. She had a special place for everyone in this town, especially Mrs. Bradley, she was like the grandmother she never had.

“Well lucky me then” she said giggling with the old woman.

“I haven’t seen you in what? Five years? ” Mrs. Bradley asked rubbing her hands along her arms in a comforting manner “I’m sorry about your father, we were all very sad to hear that he was gone, I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. You were so closed” she said smiling sadly.

“Thanks, and yeah it was…hard, that’s why it took me so long to come back here” she admitted; it was easy for her to talk to this woman, easier than with her mother for sure.

“I know sweetie, I know. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.” She was so grateful to have someone like her that she could confide in about pretty much everything.

“Yeah, and I’ll be around for a long time I think,” she confessed. The old woman hugged her once again and professed how happy she was that she had decided to stick around for a while promising that they would have a chat whenever she was free.  The girl nodded excited to finally be back somewhere where she felt comfortable enough to call it home.  She apologized to the customer that was waiting for the women to finish chatting and made her way to the back of the store to get some groceries.  She was halfway done with every item on her list when she found herself in front of the cereal aisle; she scanned the shelf looking for her favorite brand, she smiled triumphantly when she found the last box at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes trying to reach the box before someone snatched it out of her grasp. Her head snapped quickly to find the body attached to the hand that took the last box of cereal and of course it had to be no other than Dick.

“Give it back” she said, already annoyed by her presence. Dick looked down at her acknowledging her presence and chuckled when he saw her frowning like a child.

“No” he said, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. Her mouth was slightly open, her brows were furrowed and he knew she was ready to retaliate.

“I saw it first, I even grabbed it first before you literally took it out of my hands” she explained “So technically it’s mine” she said crossing her arms across her chest.

“Technically it’s in my basket, so it’s mine,” he said. He would never admit it but as much as he was annoyed by her, he still enjoyed pissing her off.

“You stole it! So give it back now” she reached a hand waiting for him to return her cereal.

“Nop” he said and turned around leaving her with her mouth open. She was trying to think of a good comeback but dick was halfway across the store by then.

“At least he does justice to his name” Y/n said grabbing a different box of cereal, sighing she continued her shopping hoping not to bump into Dick for the rest of the day.

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

Dick’s phone rang the second he sat inside his car.  He sighed when he saw the name on the screen.

“Bruce” he said coldly. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture now; he had shit to do other than to listen to what his dad had to say.

“Son, how are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer the phone” Bruce said making Dick roll his eyes and his passive-aggressiveness.

“Yeah, well I did. Can I help you with something?” he was already stressed about this whole thing. He moved from Gotham to avoid everything and everyone; but apparently Gotham did not move on from him.

“Not really I was just checking on you, since you don’t seem to call much these days” Bruce said sounding a little…sad. Dick felt a pang in his chest. Guilt.  He knew Bruce was not doing this on purpose, despite everything he loved his dad and Bruce loved him too, but being reminded every week or two how he seemed to forget about his family stung. 

“I know, and I’m sorry it’s just…it’s still hard,” Dick confessed over the phone. He heard Bruce sighing on the other line.

“I know kid, I know it’s hard. But I thought moving there was supposed to do good to you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened that’s the thing” he said not making much sense “Nothing happened. Things just stayed the same as it was back in Gotham and I honestly don’t know what I was expecting when I moved out here. I guess I’m just mad that my feelings didn’t change after all the time I spent here” he pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn’t know why was he saying all this now, he spent so much time lying to himself and his father about being okay and now the words came out of his mouth like a damn breaking after holding the water for far too long.

“Look Dick, I know you don’t like when I give you advice but listen to me son” Bruce said in a serious tone “Things won’t change unless you make them change. Moving out was just the first step, maybe it was a good one or maybe not. But things won’t be different because you don’t want them to be different.  Starting over is a big step in life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad one.  You need to start thinking less and start acting more.”

As much as Dick hated to admit it, Bruce was right.  He wondered many times if the only reason why he wasn’t moving out in life was because he was subconsciously sabotaging his own life; and the answer was yes.  He had many opportunities to forget about her and find someone new to help him heal his broken heart, but he refused to take them because he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of opening to someone only for that someone to leave him like it happened the last time. He knew it was stupid to hold onto the pain from the past, and that not everyone was going to hurt him, but the fear was there and he spent so many years being comfortable inside the wall he built around himself, that thinking of going out of them was scary.

“I know, and I try but…I can’t”

“I know son, but being scared it’s just part of the healing process. You can’t throw your life away for one misstep. It’s not worth it. She wasn’t worth it” Bruce said trying to lift the boys’ spirits.

“Thanks dad, I kind needed this long overdue conversation” he said sincerely. He missed his family.

“No problem kid, I know I haven’t been the best example when it comes to relationships, but I know a thing or two” Bruce joked. Dick smiled wide, missing the old man and his antics.

“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later dad” he said, turning the engine on.

"Okay kid, take care, and please don’t hesitate to call. We miss you, I think even Jason does”

“Tell him I miss him too, and maybe one of these days you can come visit, if that’s okay with you” dick said suddenly worried about his father’s answer.

“I’d love to Dick. Very much.” He hung up the phone and smiled genuinely in what felt like years of not doing it. He was unaware of someone else looking at him from the other side of the street.

[clumsyclifford]

i have followed your advice and listened to what well isn't exactly happy but at least upbeat music yesterday and for a bit it picked up my mood so thank you for putting that idea in my head and also for sending love ❤

i believe in you and your tea obsession too i'm sure you can still manage 73 cups

KHSKDMSLDKXJD sure love i'll just hack your webcam i mean seeing you sounds better than seeing kiernan shipka anyway

love that for you, you deserve nice days 💕 hope you managed some work over the weekend. ooh alright noted i'll refrain from asking about your cl*sses again it is very understandable to not want to talk about them. i have the same thing when someone asks me about my bachelor thesis so yeah i get it

thank you for indulging me i like planning hypothetical weddings or just generally planning things though i too really don't want an actual one. ooh i remember we talked about this a little before and you had a very pretty red dress in mind. so i guess a fitting colour scheme for everything would be red and white with maybe black accentuations. i would like to wear either sth like lisa gaskarth's wedding dress or sth resembling alex' suit (i was already in love with her dress but then i watched their wedding video and now i can't chose between both their outfits bc i love them) early fall is perfect it's the best season (with spring but less bugs so literally perfect) helen's gotta play some kind of important part bc i found your blog bc of her and also just bc she's helen. a tea station. bella Your Mind. this is why we're getting married. oh and i would like to have tulips somewhere please. i can't wait to see your 20 sth weddings truly love that for you 🙈

reasonable answer about the hand/nose kisses however have you considered the cuteness of someone peppering kisses over their significant others face and in that nose kisses being included. for example imagine let's say lashton in the morning. ashton is up bc i imagine him to be the weird kind of person that wakes up early just because and he decides to be a bother and startes just randomly kissing luke wherever he can to wake him up and then luke grumpily wakes up and demands proper kisses and to continue to be a little teasing bitch ashton refuses to kiss him on the mouth at first and instead kisses his nose. it is cute in my head. though hand kisses are unmatched actually so i don't even know why i'm arguing for the nose kisses. also i'm fairly sure i must have read this concept in some fic and am plagiarising it my sincerest apologies i did not mean to copy whoever wrote sth like this before. god my brain is weird af today i'm gonna go to sleep. good night, love you very much and hope you're well 💕 -fiancee

oh nice!!!!! i’m glad it worked for a little bit at least. what songs did you listen to i’m curious to know

dfkjgdfmj thank you tbh i’m not doing super well i have days with no tea but then i have like four cups in a day so like? i have no idea. also though, i just realized we are more than halfway through this month?? how the fuck?? is that possible??? jesus christ didnt february JUST start. what is going on

fgkgjkdfj okay cool deal, you don’t ask about my classes and i won’t ask about your thesis

!!!!!!! omg okay yes i STRONGLY support these fashion choices also dgfkhljdlmj OF COURSE helen has to be an essential part you’re so right alright well @calumcest no pressure but what role would you like in my and fiancee’s wedding, weigh in <3 as for tulips i am ABSOLUTELY down they are super pretty this is so CUTE!!!! fiancee i love this wedding so much on vibes alone i cant wait for it to not happen

mmmmmm but that’s not nose kisses then, that’s just. kisses. thats just general kisses. also that sounds like a prompt from one of those lists and also vaguely familiar but tbh maybe it’s just a General Brand of Fluff don’t worry about it ldkfjgkdfj (not to be like you’re probably thinking of one of my fics but that made me think of the disconnected one so? maybe that??)

anyway! i am well! thank you! love you <3

[indigopurple]

Basically a review of OP episode 503 ig

Currently rewatching post-war arc (in the dub so I don't have any screenshots for u guys sry) and theres a few things id like to point out.

During a conversation Dadan once had with Garp, they were talking about Roger. Garp said that even if they were facing powerful enemies, he would never run away because he wouldnt dare leaving his comrads behind; it wasnt an option for him. Obviously we see this in Ace. But ALSO, isnt this what he did with Katakuri? It was a little different cuz of the setting mostly, but he separated himself from his crew to fight off katakuri, and lied to them about being okay so they didn't worry (he was already getting his ass kicked by then, so he just made that stupid smile and told them not to worry (or smth like that, I can remember the exact line) (that smile was so gross and fake cuz he fucking sucks at lying). Also he said roger destroyed a buncha soldiers cuz they mouthed off his men. That's what Ace tried to do but instead he died. :(

"The pain he went through just made him hold on tighter to the ones he loved" -Garp, about Roger. "Despite his flaws and his bad reputation, his crew still trusted him completely." -also Garp, about Roger. These both sound a lot like Luffy AND Ace.

When Dogra got home and told everyone about Sabo's ship being shit down and him dying (which we all know didnt happen, thank fuck), (by the way the absolutely lost looks on Ace's and Luffy's faces with the sudden silence hurt like a bitch), Luffy started crying and said "WE SHOULDNT'A LET HIM GO, IT'S ALL OUR FAULT". Which fucking says something about him (thinking of episodes 913-915 when he goes fucking berserk, but before that he learns that Kaido probably killed Tama and he says "I should've escorted them..!" (*ugly cries*)). Ace also reacted pretty similarly-- "Sabo...why didn't we go back into town and bring him back here?! We're so stupid!" And he gets mad and asks where he could find the bastard that killed him (obviously not getting a good answer since it was a fucking celestial dragon ugh). That is what Luffy does, in present time. He results to anger first, not sadness. Not sure when he learned to do that but I'm 99 percent sure it was from Ace. Also the blaming himself thing? High chance thats ALSO from Ace. Who else would teach him that self hating behaviour?!

Dadan pins Ace down to stop him from going after the Celestial Dragon to calm him down, telling him he cant do anything, he's not big or strong enough to do anything and he'll be killed as soon as he tries anything, especially since it was the whole country -the whole WORLD- that killed Sabo. He can't do anything. And then they tied him to a tree outside to let him cool off. Oh yeah then he also told luffy to stop crying like a little girl or else he'll- (and he didn't finish the sentence). ...Ok maybe thats why luffy started being more angry than sad.

This is where things get a little more :( . Ace reads the letter Sabo sent them before he died. As he reads, he walks to the end of the forest, to a cliff overlooking the ocean. And starts fucking bawling (btw the voice actor who had Ace's childhood part did not do a very good job, no where near as in character and real as Coleen Clickenberg did with all of Luffy's crying scenes. She was spot on.) ...do you see where im going with that? He isolated himself before letting himself feel sad. It was all rage and then calm beforehand. Y-you see where im going with that. Dont make me say it.

"How's Luffy doing, is he any better?" "Well...he hasnt been eating much, but he still eats twice as much as we do". Oh look, That's what happened after Ace died too. There's a behavioral pattern that hasnt gone away. Not sure why it wouldve tho.

Luffy is mopeing, lying on the ground in a similar setting ace was at when he cried. Hes thinking about some of the things Sabo said, like how theyre gonna sail the seas together, and he clenches his hands into tight, shaking fists. After Ace shows up and hits him, and talking abt some other stuff I don't feel like relaying, Luffy tightens his grip on the straw hat and tells ace, whimpering, he wants to get stronger (and stronger, and stronger, and stronger and stronger and....) And he wants to be the strongest in the world. "And then, I'll protect everyone. I won't lose anyone I care about". He gets stronger mainly to protect the people he loves. And then he asks ace to promise he won't die. To which he hits Luffy again and tells him he should be more worried about himself dying first. And then the famous line that hurts like a bitch- "I'm NEVER going to DIE!" And then this hopeful music comes on (fucking damnit funimation, u gotta do this? Really??) Also he says he wont die as long as he has a wussy little brother to protect. ...FUCK. Ok, the fist clenching is a thing he does all the fucking time, usually when he gets mad. This was different because he wasnt mad, he was sad. He clenched his fist because thinking about it hurt. Which, huh, sounds a lot like his whole episode after waking up from his 2 week coma on the polar tang. To try and stop the mental pain of those horrendous memories, he resulted to physically pain. He hurt himself. So, He clenches his fists in times like these to fight off the mental pain and the urge to cause himself physical pain. Guys, our boy is bad at emotions, help him. ....ok this paragraph is longer than I anticipated so ill dumb down the rest of it ig. Next part, him asking ace to promise he wont die. The music, the body language, the over change in mood- this comforts him. He stopped hiding his face and silently sobbing after ace said this. OH YEAH! didn't he tell jinbe not to die when they parted ways in Totto Land? And then, hes missing still in Wano and we see Luffy is worried....but convinced Jinbe will show up. Again, this comforts him. Hes nervous cuz someone KOFF KOFF ACE broke that promise once. But jinbe is his crew mate so he trusts him, thank god.

"-But whoever did it, they must be opposed to freedom." The whole freedom thing? That runs through Luffy's blood and spirit.His brothers fought for it, his dad is the man who strives to give everyone freedom basically, and Luffy himself has seen enough of the OPPOSITE of freedom to be so, so much more than just against it. Hence why he of course was so eager to free the slaves in Sabaody, the kids in punk hazard, the toys in dressrosa, the country of Wano from Kaido's tyrany. The apple doesnt fall far from the tree huh.

I dont think Luffy would remember his promise with Shanks if it werent for his brothers putting feul to his dream. It was a stupid bet at first; he just wanted to beat Shanks, right then. But after meeting Sabo and Ace, he found the opposite of freedom and human rights. And then he wanted, REALLY wanted, to become the free-est man in the world; the pirate king.

Last one i promise ok? This one is less connected to whats going on in the episode at this point, but something I noticed (its so obvious everyone has seen this ok) was when luffy cries, his posture is always open. He doesn't curl in on himself like many people would do (I know I would, lol). He doesnt hug himself, protect himself. He's just, opened up to whoever is watching, literally. This has a little more to do with something I haven't talked about much in this post yet; his self-destruction issues. I said he tried to hurt himself when he felt mental pain, which is definitely similar. But he cries and doesnt try to protect or comfort himself, like he doesn't have that programmed into his mind. Reminder that he only wants to live because of his dream, and if he doesnt have his dream, he wants to die. (Whoa.). Ok, so no self preservation mechanism at all rlly. Hes basically ride or die. So, when things hurt so much that he cries, he has no hope left. He just kinda...dies inside. So this was mildly different after sabo died. Yes we saw him just standing there, sobbing. But the next day he's still crying, and instead he's laying on the ground. I saw that and the voice in the back of my head told me he wanted to be a part of that lifeless dirt beneath him. Then, Ace walked over. And his words made him feel the hope that I told you about earlier, and he sat up into a sitting position. And HUGGED HIS LEGS TO HIS CHEST. There's some self preservation! Some hope! Some will to exist, to live! Something we saw none of as he sat in front of his brothers corpse, shutting down. He sat there, open to his enemies, incapable of protecting himself. Practically anyone couldve killed him right then and there. I think he mightve liked that, at that moment. Like thank god he has that stupidly good luck cuz if he didn't I swear someone couldve thrown and axe or FUCKING ANYTHING AT THAT MOMENT and hed be dead becuase he never physically or mentally prepared himself. On purpose.

Our poor boy needs some fucking attention and therapists. (Insert my rant post about how jinbe is on the crew primarily for anger management and therapy, not just being a helmsman.) Ugh, smh ugly cries

Aaaaand thats about the end of the episode. Theres so many little tics and peesonality traits that you notive thru this episode, and I only noticed them cuz im rewatching this part of the show for like the third time. I don't react as much as the first time of course but some things are definitely sadder after knowing what's going on and what will happen later on.

Moral of the story (post)? I think luffy is almost equally as alike -if not, more similar to roger as ace is. Also, high key genuinely think Luffy met like NO ONE but Garp before he met Shanks and his crew. What the fuck was his first like 5 years of being alive like? (He wantd to be a pirate cuz Garp didnt want that. Rebellious baby asshole. And then shanks made things worse, in a good way for luffy. And then ace and sabo made that worse thing worse for a good reason. Luffy lives...for those influences. And that is fucking it. Why.

Oh thanks tumblr for moving my picture to the bottom of the post u fucking idiot

[punkscowardschampions]

Hathor & Sekhmet

Hathor: About to slap myself so you'll feel it Hathor: wherever you are ain't where you should be Sekhmet: what im sleep Sekhmet: 😴😴😴 Hathor: wake up 👊🏽 Hathor: you asked me to meet you, remember? Sekhmet: I think that's tomorrow Sekhmet: I said Wednesday, right Hathor: That's today Hathor: you blackout past Tuesday? Sekhmet: You're joking Sekhmet: well then, that means I've got a deadline I gotta meet and not a whole lot of time for brunch dates Hathor: you're joking Hathor: I cancelled on a fine boy for you Sekhmet: it's so early you got time to hit it back Sekhmet: I know I didn't tell you I'd meet you at the crack of dawn Hathor: you didn't and you're late af still Sekhmet: chill sis, I'll make it up to you Hathor: yeah Hathor: anyone else'd be offended you don't ever want to have a sober conversation Hathor: but I'll see you in the club Sekhmet: girl, chill 😂 Sekhmet: how fine was he that you're all kinds of vexed with me Sekhmet: don't even care how I'm gonna make it up to you, oh my days 🥴🍆🧠 for real Hathor: he's got prospects, I'm not saying any more than that if you're not coming out 👅 Hathor: I'll care how you're gonna make it up when you next show up for real Sekhmet: ugh! living up to your name 🐮 Sekhmet: bitch I'm busy 😏 the juggle is real Hathor: you know I don't say that shit lightly except once in a blue moon, however fine a lad be looking Hathor: but if you don't wanna hear it Sekhmet: is he 🧑🏾🧑🏿 Hathor: 🥛 Hathor: nobody is more surprised than me Sekhmet: 👏🙌 yay Sekhmet: I told you, white boys are the best Sekhmet: they treat us like 👸 Hathor: It's his Irish accent tricking me Hathor: I gotta take a trip back and cure myself Sekhmet: awh, you're homesick, precious Sekhmet: now it makes sense why you wanna tie me down Hathor: can barely understand him he's from so far north, more likely that Sekhmet: throwback 📟 📠 📺 📻 Hathor: get the psych dept to pull their shrink shit on me about it Sekhmet: You wanna be just like Vee, sorted Sekhmet: take my PhD now 💁 Hathor: be more disrespectful! first you stand me up and then put that out there Sekhmet: 🤭 you've got a ways to go, even if you're rolling mad extra today Hathor: I didn't ask 👼🏽💘 to 🎯 me up in the 🍑 Hathor: got my own things I'm busy with Sekhmet: love is magic 💖 Sekhmet: don't be complaining in my inbox when I'm tragically single Hathor: I've been serving and swerving him for long enough I thought I'd succeeded, there's the complaint Sekhmet: 🙄 you can't ❌ feelings bitch Hathor: white boys are a different animal, I ❌ the fear of Sekhmet: 😍😍😍 Hathor: I'm not here to be treated like a 👸🏽 if that's one step away from being called 'exotic' Hathor: there's nothing sexy about a power imbalance Sekhmet: most girls would disagree, babe Sekhmet: why do you wanna be run of the mill every day when we been #blessed with this 🔥 Sekhmet: all black guys wanna chat about is my light-skin privilege and their black man struggles, I can't 🥱 Hathor: fetishization like that ain't foreplay I'm interested in Hathor: 👑 me for other reasons than my melanin Sekhmet: insecurities SNAPPED, I'm sure he likes you for more than your skin, you crazy Hathor: he likes me for how I pour measures rn Sekhmet: racial Sekhmet: that's why everyone likes you 💃💃💃 Hathor: on account of being a poor student not Northern Irish, don't be biting the hand that feeds your blackouts Sekhmet: my white boys always pay Hathor: #blessed innit Sekhmet: 👸😇 tings Hathor: which white boy you with ignoring your deadline then? Sekhmet: whoever it is they've gone to work Sekhmet: but they left a 💳 with their cute note so I know I'm in a good postcode still 🙏 Hathor: so come meet me and spare mine, that's the right thing to do Sekhmet: just 'cos it's good doesn't mean I'm not lost still, damn Sekhmet: hold on and let me get dressed and get my bearings Hathor: if your phone ain't drained I can use it to get your bearings while you serve a look Sekhmet: who doesn't have a charger in their hoe 👜 PLEASE Hathor: you didn't know what day it was, can't blame me for 👶🏽ing Sekhmet: where would I be without you 😘 Sekhmet: mum hasn't phoned me in ages actually, it's so rude Sekhmet: I missed the last few but still Hathor: I hit her with your highlights, creatively Hathor: like how I won't mention a white boy making me feel like a baby 🐮 that can't walk Sekhmet: 😶😶 Sekhmet: dad would 😥 Hathor: and she'll 🙌🏽 harder than you've done Sekhmet: facts are facts Sekhmet: look at her dad, Vee's... Hathor: cliches are tired and stereotypes are damaging Sekhmet: @ your white boy with the 👋 then booboo Sekhmet: I think dad's in town working today, you wanna come for dinner with us? 🥂 Hathor: he's not mine to command in or out 👅 Hathor: yeah 🍾 will help Sekhmet: I'll teach you Hathor: those twin stereotypes are damaging too, like Sekhmet: oh hush, I only tried to 💋 you ONE time and we were like babies and that boy was the first great love of my life Sekhmet: anyway, you're like hot but not my types type these days, you know Hathor: that boy was trash Hathor: you levelled up fast though Sekhmet: awh, don't be rude, I have fond memories Hathor: I have loads of him trying to ask me out at the same time Sekhmet: oh yeah Sekhmet: I forgot that happened Sekhmet: his hair was gorgeous though Hathor: it was Sekhmet: good times Sekhmet: my new guy, not this one, the actual one, looks like old school Leo, I SWEAR Hathor: Yeah? Sekhmet: like Leo and a bit of River and Ryan Philippe in Cruel Intentions Sekhmet: 🥰🥰🥰 Hathor: love of your life material Sekhmet: definitely Sekhmet: he's a trader in the city and his apartment is 😱😱😱 Hathor: what's the age range this time? Sekhmet: he's only 26, it's mad how successful he is already Hathor: he sounds like the full 🎟 Hathor: any catch? Sekhmet: only technically Hathor: technically he's a 🤖? Sekhmet: ha, he totally has the stamina of one Sekhmet: he can keep up with me, almost 😉 Hathor: 👌🏽 he's perfect Hathor: fucking hell Sekhmet: no need to be jealous when you're 🥰 yourself Sekhmet: what does he look like? Hathor: Tall enough Hathor: more like a 🥊 than a 👼🏻 Sekhmet: you really do wanna do great grandpa Sekhmet: jk, he sounds so you Hathor: he does work for the main brewery that supplies us, maybe I do Hathor: Jesus Christ Sekhmet: 😂😬 processing that Sekhmet: not really though, every boy I've ever dated has been like dad, it's unavoidable tbh 💁 Hathor: in our postcode nobody's trying very hard to be anything else Hathor: 💰💳💎🍾 Sekhmet: why would they? Hathor: they wouldn't and they aren't, it'd be terrifying for any of those boys to step out Sekhmet: 🙄 you aren't going to throw yourself down a ladder when you're at the top, babe Hathor: wouldn't kill them to give other people a hand up though, they just act like it Sekhmet: 🥱 when's your deadline? Hathor: my work's done Sekhmet: then button it, loser Sekhmet: you wanna eat out on this nice rich boy's 💳 Hathor: ETA of 15 on getting to you Hathor: you best 🚿 Sekhmet: way ahead of you 🛀 Sekhmet: door's unlocked, our breakfast will hopefully be on the table when you get here Sekhmet: love ubereats Hathor: 🙌🏽 Sekhmet: you can bring it through, the view in this bathroom is immense Sekhmet: thought getting the driver to bring it to the tub was unlikely Hathor: he probably would but it's unlikely I'd recover from walking in on it Sekhmet: 😘 Sekhmet: do fuck with an asian boy Hathor: you don't know he will be Hathor: might not even be a lad Hathor: but if it is, guarantee they'll send the most unexpected one Sekhmet: it usually is, your stereotypes be damned Hathor: what are you gonna bet? Sekhmet: the Belgian 🧇s Hathor: you're on Sekhmet: sometimes you shock me with how green you are, Hath Hathor: back to putting disrespect on me, what a nice truce while it lasted, like Sekhmet: I mean, you know I can see the driver on my app, babe Sekhmet: no points for guessing where Hassan is from Sekhmet: you can have the 🧇s anyway Hathor: you know I can read your thoughts, the playing field is level Hathor: and anyway I like green, that's my boy's eye colour Sekhmet: been gazing into them longingly across the bar have we🤭 Hathor: maybe Sekhmet: so cute Sekhmet: hope this one doesn't have a fiancee Sekhmet: or a maid who thinks we've broken in Hathor: if he does he better break that eye contact with me Sekhmet: I meant Mr Black Card, don't worry Sekhmet: he's a student, yeah? he won't be Hathor: he's only got a year on us, I don't predict an engagement Sekhmet: yeah, doubt it Hathor: outside of our family people aren't usually that extra Sekhmet: some of the asian internationals are but they usually cheat if their intended ain't here yet so Hathor: Yeah Sekhmet: what even does an engagement mean anyway Sekhmet: not much, right Hathor: a flash 💍 Hathor: what's my course teaching me if I don't know the statistics on how often a wedding follows? Hathor: shows how outdated it is Sekhmet: he gives me that anyway Hathor: I'd take a phone number and be happy with it for now Hathor: but it's probably the party and that whole flex too, right? Sekhmet: the dress Sekhmet: but it's irrelevant if it doesn't happen, like you said Hathor: 🎁🎁 even if it doesn't if people bring them for the engagement as well, but you're not going short of any Sekhmet: right Sekhmet: 😥 if you need a wedding for attention Hathor: Jay's birth mum QUAKING Sekhmet: omg I bet that's EXACTLY what his fiancee is like Hathor: does he ever speak about her? Sekhmet: obviously not Sekhmet: but she must never come up from wherever they're from because I'm like ALWAYS over so Hathor: maybe she doesn't know about this place Hathor: old school Sekhmet: Who knows Sekhmet: can't be my problem Hathor: Yours is the day you've missed, like Hathor: what's the assignment? Sekhmet: design some sportswear line Sekhmet: got to get the sketches in by 5, but all I ordered for me was a shit ton of coffee, it'll be fine Hathor: more productive if I stay or go? Sekhmet: you've already missed your date, you may as well stay Hathor: okay Hathor: am the sportier one Sekhmet: how are you 😂 Hathor: ⚽⛹🏽🚴🏽🥊 Hathor: why dad loves me more than you Sekhmet: now I know you're talking nonsense 😏 Hathor: True, he loves Vee and she never gets off her chaise Sekhmet: and she doesn't even love him back Hathor: poor dad Sekhmet: yeah Hathor: what time's dinner with him? Sekhmet: I'll ask him when he wants to go Hathor: about to come up, so whatever you were planning for Hassan, this is me Sekhmet: regrettably noted

[cocomaxley]

In Sickness In Health

This is a part of a TRR A/U called Cordonians Gone Wild, a collaborative effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @leelee10898 and yours truly. Catch up HERE.

Summary: Genevieve and Liam are home sick while Anitah and Rashad have fun in NYC. This was a prompt request from @speedyoperarascalparty: For Genevieve and whoever you want You have cold, you’re not dying.

Rating: Mature, bad language and awful decisions. And this turned out much longer than I intended.

Tag List: @fullbeaumonty @brightpinkpeppercorn @alj4890 @zaffrenotes @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ooo-barff-ooo @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves @perfectprofessorherokid @stopforamoment @editboutique @wannabemc2 @enmchoices @lauradowning29 @lodberg @smalltalk88 @gibbles82 @heatherfilliez @drakesensworld @nikkis1983 @sweetest-marbear @classylady1234 @daniv2278 @jlouise88 @jared2612 @liamxs-world @notoriouscs @blubutterflyy @captain-kingliamsqueen @lynne1993 @the-soot-sprite

Before the alarm clock went off, Genevieve woke up coughing. Rashad stirred next to her and turned. Looking at her concerned, he asked, “Are you alright, Gen?” She nodded her head still coughing. He got out of bed and brought back a glass of water. She took a sip and smiled at her husband, “Thank you, honey. I guess I caught that cold that’s going around. I feel fine other than this cough.” Rashad sighed, “Sweetheart, I really think you should go to the doctor. You’ve been tired the past week and this cough doesn’t sound good. What if you have bronchitis?”

“Baby, I’m fine...besides, I have too much work to do to be sick. Don’t worry,” she smiled at him trying to convince him that she was in fact alright. Just then, Rashad’s cell phone rang, “What’s up Liam? It’s early.” He heard a pitiful whimper on the other end of the phone, “Rashad, I'm dying!" Genevieve then started hacking again. She left the room so she wouldn’t interrupt the phone call. He heard Anitah laughing in the background before the phone was removed from Liam’s hand. “Hello, Rashad. The King is not on his deathbed, I promise. Is Gen alright? She sounds awful!”

Rashad replied, "He kinda sounds like he's dying, Anitah...Gen says she's fine and refuses to go the doctor. She said it's just a cold." Anitah tried to control her laughter as Liam continued to groan in the background like a wounded animal. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Liam just has the man flu. Sounds like they need to switch places.” Rashad let out a heavy sigh,"Well they're both stubborn. So good luck trying to convince them. What does this mean for our trip to New York for the Climate Action Summit? Will your dying husband be able to make it?"

“No, he will not be going. Hope you don’t mind the Queen taking his place...”

"These trips are always fun when you're there. Hopefully no international disasters this time..."

“That was ONE time Rashad....but I won’t make any promises,” Anitah laughed. Rashad chuckled, "We're set to leave at 4:30. Maybe Gen should stay at the palace with Liam while we're gone. I don't want her to be by herself. My father is also traveling, and she’s not going to call the staff if she needs something. Plus, Liam probably shouldn’t be alone right now." Anitah agreed, “That will be more than fine. I will let staff know she’ll be staying.”

The two hung up the phone, and Rashad started packing a bag for his wife. He knew she would protest, so he was preparing himself mentally. He recited what he was going to say so that she would agree to go to the palace while he was out of town. He heard her phone chirp with a message, and he glanced at the screen. A smile formed on his lips after he read it.

She came back into the room freshly showered. “What are you doing, Rashad?” She motioned towards the packed bag. He took a deep breath already forgetting his prepared speech, “Before you say no, hear me out...Liam is sick, so Anitah is going to New York with me instead. Since you're sick, I thought you and Liam could keep each other company.”

She rolled her eyes, “So you're asking me to babysit Liam? I told you I feel fine. And I have to go to work, honey. I'll just check on him before and after work. Have Drake watch him during the day.” She grumbled under her breath, “He's such a baby.”

Rashad cleared his throat, trying not to laugh, “Sweetie, Pam already texted and said to stay home. Check your phone.” Sure enough, when she looked at her phone, there was a text from Pam that read, ‘Keep your sick ass at home. I don't want your cooties.’

“You guys are ridiculous!” She said loudly which caused her to have another coughing fit. He raised his brow at her. “Fine!” she stomped off to her closet to get dressed.

Meanwhile at the palace, Anitah was packing her suitcase for the trip. “Anitah!” Liam yelled. “Love, can you just stay home and take care of me? Rashad can go to the summit by himself…” Anitah tried to keep her face serious, “My King, one of us has to represent Cordonia along with Rashad, so they know we take climate issues seriously. Gen is coming to stay with you.” Liam looked relieved, “Gen’s staying with me? Ok, I feel better now. She can take care of me. And she cooks really good food.” Anitah giggled, “She's sick too, and Pam banned her from the clinic until she feels better. So you guys can take care of each other. She is in denial of being sick so she probably will cook for you. Now, can I get you anything before I leave? Orange juice? Soup? Your balls maybe?”

“Ha ha ha...you're so funny,” Liam replied. “I'd like some orange juice though.” Anitah brought Liam a glass of juice and kissed his forehead. Then she resumed packing her bag. “Good luck, Gen,” she murmured while she packed.

That afternoon, Genevieve and Rashad entered the royal quarters. Liam was laying on the couch covered with a blanket. He looked at his two friends, “Hey, guys. Sorry I didn't answer the door, my entire body hurts.” Rashad covered his mouth to hide the smile on his face, “I hope you feel better, Li. Gen will take care you of while we’re gone.”

“Thanks, Rashad. Make sure to keep an eye on my Queen. I don't want to have to clean up another international...achoo!” Liam pulled the covers up to his chin and whimpered. Rashad chuckled, “She will be fine. If not, I'll just pretend I don't know her.”

He looked at his wife who was working on her laptop at the dining room table. “Sweetheart, you need to rest. I know you're ‘fine’ but that can wait.” She turned to him and smiled, “I won't be on long. Just have to respond to some emails. Then I have to take care of...that.” She pointed to Liam who had fallen asleep on the couch with his mouth open.

Anitah tiptoed towards the door, “Alright let’s go before he wakes up and starts whining again! Gen, I know you're not sick, but I'm still not hugging you.” She giggled and waved to her friend as Brad grabbed her bag and they both left. Rashad turned to his wife, “I'll be back in a couple of days. Please try to go to the doctor while I'm gone. I'm sure Bastien wouldn't mind taking you.” She rolled her eyes at him, “Well if I'm so sick, I'm sure I won't get a goodbye kiss from my husband…” He pulled her up so she was standing in front of him. Rashad leaned down and kissed her sweetly, “I'll always kiss you, sick or not. I love you, Gen.”

“Have a good trip, honey. I love you too.”

After Rashad left, Liam woke up from his nap. “Gen…I don't feel good. I think I have a fever.” Genevieve walked up to him and put her hand against his forehead. “Liam, you don't feel warm. Have you taken your temperature?” He shook his head no. She walked into the bathroom to get the thermometer. She stuck it in his mouth and went into the kitchen, pulling out a large pot. She perused through the items in the royal couple’s fridge and pantry, grabbing the ingredients she needed to make dinner. When she heard the thermometer beep, she went back to the living room.

Genevieve removed the thermometer from Liam’s mouth, “As I suspected…” Liam looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “I told you! I'm sick.” She started laughing showing him the 98.6 temperature on the screen. This made her start coughing. “Don't make me laugh, Liam! This cough hurts. I’m going to make you some chicken noodle soup. If that doesn't make you feel better...seriously...nothing will, because you're fine.”

The royal jet landed in New York. Anitah and Rashad checked into The Surrey. “Let's meet for dinner in a half hour, Rashad. Then I think we should go for drinks at Kismet.” Rashad looked at her, “A nightclub, seriously?”

“Why not? It's the hottest club in the city. The first night I met Liam I was going to take him there, but I took him to the beach instead.” The two went their separate ways to get ready for dinner. Rashad pulled out his phone and called his wife. “Hi, sweetie. How is everything?”

“He's finally sleeping! Every little sound wakes him up, and he starts whimpering. I'm going to smother him with his pillow. Too bad Bas keeps checking on us.” Rashad chuckled, “We just checked in. We're going to have dinner and go to a club, I guess.” This made his wife start giggling and coughing. “You're going to a club? Poor Brad. He's going to earn his paycheck tonight. I love you, Rashad. Have fun.”

“I love you too. I'll see you in a couple of days,” he hung up the phone.

He met Anitah in the hotel lobby. “Gen said they're fine...but Liam might die before we get back.” After dinner, the two friends entered the nightclub. Music thumped, multicolored lights flashed all over, and the dance floor was packed with people. The pair walked straight to the bar and ordered shots. After a few drinks they started to feel the liquid courage course through their veins.

A tall, handsome man walked up next to Anitah and licked his lips as he looked her up and down. “What are ya drinking, gorgeous?” Anitah giggled while Rashad rolled his eyes and got between her and the man. “She's drinking what I'm buying. Move along.” The man held his hands up and backed away from the bar. A short while later a blonde woman sat next to Rashad. “What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?” Anitah pulled Rashad to side and stood real close to her, “You ever been to Brooklyn? If you haven't, you're about to see it if you don't walk away right now.” The woman’s eyes went wide, “I...I'm sorry, i didn't know he was here with his wife…” she quickly walked away. The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Anitah yelled over the music, “Let's get out of here! I'll take you on a tour of New York! But wait…” she pointed to Brad who was eyeing her suspiciously. “We have to ditch him.” At this point Rashad was half in the bag and agreed with the Queen. She beckoned her guard over to her, “Bradley, go get the car! We're leaving!” Once Brad left, Anitah grabbed Rashad’s hand and sprinted towards the door laughing, “Hurry, Cinnamon Roll! We have to get out of here!” The two drunken friends ran down the New York street as an unsuspecting Brad pulled up with the SUV.

A short while later, they arrived at Time Square. “You gotta see the naked cowboy!” Rashad looked at her confused, “Why...why would I want to see a naked cowboy?” She ignored him and continued to yank on his arm leading him towards the street performer. Rashad stared at him wide eyed, “wow...he's in his tighty whities...in the middle of Time Square...playing a guitar. This is the greatest thing I've ever seen!” He grinned at Anitah who was giggling uncontrollably.

Rashad continued to watch him perform, “He's like Fabio in a cowboy hat…” he reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, pulling out a few bills, “You know what? I like you, take it all!” He dropped his entire wallet into the cowboy’s guitar case. “Rashad! Let's go get pie! I know just the place!” Anitah began to pull him down the street towards the subway.

Meanwhile at the palace, Liam’s phone rang. Genevieve jumped up to get it so it wouldn't wake him. She saw Brad’s number flashing on the screen and she stifled a laugh. She walked into a bedroom and answered the phone, “Brad! Why are you calling Liam instead of Bas?”

“Your…Your Grace, I...I...lost the queen in New York…” he sounded frantic. She could hear the New York traffic in the background. “I knew this would happen!” She started laughing hard, again breaking out into a coughing fit. “Let me find Bastien. I'll have him call you. DO NOT call Liam again. I will kill you, do you understand?” She walked out of the royal quarters and found Bastien. “Bas, Anitah and Rashad ditched Brad and he's panicking. Can you please help him before he drives himself into the Atlantic?” She saw a smirk form on Bastien’s lips, “I'm on it, Your Grace.”

Anitah and Rashad arrived at the New York subway. A drunk Rashad looked around at the dingy concrete and tile. They boarded a train and noticed different types of people that Rashad had never encountered before. They took their seats on the train and looked around at their fellow travelers. Anitah nudged Rashad’s arm and nodded towards a couple that were locked in a heated kiss. The woman was straddling the man. Rashad’s eyes went wide, “Are they...no...they can’t be…” Anitah burst out laughing, “I’m pretty sure they are, Rashad.”

“That’s kinky, even for Liam,” Rashad replied. They turned their attention to a drunk man that was having an animated conversation with one of the poles. Clearly he was having a disagreement with it and wasn’t going to be proven otherwise. Then they heard a Spanish speaking couple having a heated discussion in front of them. They had Rashad’s full attention. “Can you understand them?” Anitah asked. He nodded his head, “Yes, the man said he knows that she’s been sleeping with his best friend, Juan.” Anitah gasped, “No!”

“Now the man is questioning if the baby is his and wants a paternity test.” The woman stood up and slapped the man across the face. “Damn!” Anitah yelled. “That looked like it hurt.” Rashad continued, “She just told him that she slept with Juan because she knew that he was sleeping with him too.” Both of their mouths formed into perfect ‘o’ shapes. “Juan’s a slut…” Anitah whispered. The subway train came to a stop. “This is us, let’s go get pie!”

They walked into a mom and pop diner in the heart of Harlem. All eyes turned to the overdressed pair. Anitah didn’t notice and pulled Rashad up to the diner counter and ordered two pieces of apple pie. “Now, this is a real apple pie, Rashad!” Anitah took a big bite of her piece. Rashad looked at it unconvinced. He cut a small piece with his fork and took a bite. “This is delicious, Anitah! Who knew American apple pie was better than Cordonian apple pie…do not tell Liam I said that. I will deny it.” He quickly ate his piece and ordered another. When the waitress gave him the second helping, she dropped off their check. Rashad reached into his pocket and his heart dropped when he couldn’t find his wallet. He reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and the wallet wasn’t there either. “Anitah, I lost my wallet!” Anitah giggled, “No you didn’t. You gave it to the naked cowboy.”

“Are you telling me that you two don’t have any money?” the woman asked sternly from behind the counter. Anitah patted Rashad’s hand, “I’ll handle this…” She turned to the woman, “Excuse me, I’m the Queen of Gordon and I would like you to bill this pie to my room.” She started walking towards the door. “Oh no you don’t, Queenie! I’m calling the cops.”

Back in Cordonia, Bastien was on the phone with his friend at the NYPD. “Yes, the Queen and Duke were last seen entering the subway...Ah, I see...I will notify her guard. Thank you for your help. Please just hold them in the back of the squad car until he arrives.” Bastien chuckled as he dialed Brad’s number. “I will text you the address to the diner. They ate and didn’t pay for their food. Make sure to bring some non-disclosure agreements with you. The police are holding them so they can’t get away from you again, Brad.”

Liam woke up from his long nap whining and whimpering. “Gen, I need water and I think I really have a fever now…” Genevieve got him a glass of water and touched his forehead. He was slightly warm. “I’ll take your temperature again, but it’s probably elevated because you’ve been under that thick blanket for hours.” She walked into the kitchen to check on the soup that was simmering on the stove. The noodles were floating which meant the soup was done. She ladled soup into two bowls, thinking she may as well enjoy some of it.

She heard the thermometer beep and gave Liam the bowl. She took the thermometer from his mouth and checked the screen. “Liam! Your temperature is 104.9! We have to get you to the hospital.” She dialed Bastien’s number and told him to get the car ready. Genevieve helped Liam off of the couch and out of the royal chambers. Bastien met them in the hall and helped support the sick King. Enroute to the emergency room, Genevieve called Rashad. His phone went to voicemail so she left him a message, “Honey, I hope you’re out of the squad car now…” she coughed and laughed. “When you get this, let Anitah know I’m taking Liam to the ER. His temperature is really high, but I’m sure everything will be fine. I’ll call or text once I talk to the doctor.”

With Bastien’s help, the pair of friends were checked in and shown to a private room. Shortly after a nurse came in and checked his vitals. “Blood pressure looks ok, oxygen levels are normal. Your majesty, what’s bothering you? Are you breathing ok?” Liam whimpered, “My body aches and I have a fever.” The nurse took Liam’s temperature and raised her brow, “Your majesty, your temperature looks normal...How high was it before you came here?” Genevieve looked at the nurse, “Are you sure? Because when I took it at the palace it was almost 105...unless...Liam, did you put the thermometer up to the lamp?” She turned to her friend, glaring at him.

Liam’s cheeks flushed, “Maybe...I don’t feel well and no one was taking me seriously. I just want to see the doctor!” The nurse clicked her tongue, “The doctor will be with you shortly, King Liam…” Genevieve got up and smacked Liam in the arm, “What is the matter with you? There are people with real emergencies, and we got you in here ahead of them.” Liam gave her a pitiful look, “Don’t be mad, Gen. Had I known the soup was ready, I would have waited to do that. Genevieve couldn’t help but giggle, “You’re stupid, you know that right?” Liam smiled in return, “And you’re the meanest care taker ever.”

The doctor came into the room and addressed the King, “What seems to be the problem, your majesty?” He checked Liam’s eyes, ears and throat while he listened to Liam drone on about all of his ailments. Genevieve started coughing while he was listening to Liam’s heart and lungs through the stethoscope, and he looked in her direction. The doctor smiled at him, “Based on everything in your chart, it looks like you just have a virus. It should clear up in a couple of days. Plenty of fluids and rest and you should be back to normal in no time.” He turned to Genevieve, “Now, you, your grace...I’d like to listen to your lungs. That cough doesn’t sound good.”

She waved him off, “I’m fine. I’m not even checked in, Doc. We’re here to tell his majesty that he is a big fat baby.” She grinned at Liam. The doctor walked towards where she was sitting, “I’m afraid that I can’t let you leave without checking you. You sound like you might have something serious.” She rolled her eyes, “Fine..go ahead.” He listened to her lungs for a long period of time, asking her to take a deep breath every so often. The doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears and put them back around his neck. “I think you have pneumonia. I’m going to order a chest x-ray to confirm it.” Genevieve grumbled under her breath, “I am sure I don’t have pneumonia, but do what you must.” She pulled out her phone and started playing candy crush. After the x-ray, the doctor came back in, “Well it looks like you have pneumonia. I’d like to check you in and have some IV antibiotics administered.” Genevieve looked at him skeptically, but agreed to stay at the hospital.

Back in New York, Anitah and Rashad met bright and early for the first day of the summit. Both were hungover and looked like they had walked to Harlem and back. Rashad told Anitah about Genevieve’s message and said that he was waiting for an update. They took their seats in the front row of the conference center when Brad approached Anitah. “Your majesty, Bastien called and said that Genevieve’s been checked into the hospital.” Rashad’s head snapped towards him, “Is she alright? She didn’t mention that in her message earlier.” Brad motioned for them to follow him. He explained what had happened and that the jet was ready to leave the airfield once they arrived. Once they were in the air, Anitah turned to Rashad, “Ok, I’ll take care of Gen and you can take care of Liam. I mean she’s one of my best friends and he’s one of yours…”

“She’s my wife, Anitah. I will be taking care of her. I just hope she’s ok and that she’s actually listening to the medical staff.” After they arrived at the hospital, Anitah pulled Rashad to the side in the hallway, “Listen, rock paper scissors. Best two out of three. Whoever wins gets to stay with Gen. The loser deals with Liam.” Rashad rolled his eyes, “No, she’s my wife…”

“Please Rashad, I’m begging you. Please!” He let out a sigh, “Fine. one, two, three…” They pounded their fists into their palms. Anitah held out rock and Rashad held out paper. “Dammit! Again!” Anitah yelled out. “One, two, three…” Anitah held out rock again and Rashad, again, held out paper. “I’m taking care of my wife.” He started walking away before she could argue. “No you don’t, Cinnamon Roll! I’m getting to her room first and you can go to Liam’s room!” She ran after him and grabbed the back of his shirt, ripping it. She kicked him in the shin and ran down the hallway. “What the fu...Anitah!” He ran after her as the staff yelled at the two of them.

They made it to Genevieve’s hospital room and burst through the door. Liam’s head snapped up as he watched Anitah fall to the floor, and Rashad trip over her, both of them sweaty and out of breath. “My love, you came for me!” Liam smiled at his wife. “Li...Liam...I thought this was Gen’s room? Is she ok?” Anitah asked, trying to mask the shock on her face at seeing her ‘sick’ husband wearing a hospital gown and laying in a hospital bed. The curtain next to Liam got pulled to the side. “I’m right here. What is all that noise?” Genevieve asked annoyed. She had an IV in her arm and machines beeping and buzzing around her.

Rashad rushed to her side, “Sweetheart, are you ok?” Genevieve smiled at him, “I’m fine. I should be able to go home tomorrow. You didn’t need to come home early.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I got worried. I’d rather be here with you.” The door opened and the doctor walked in, “Ah, Duke Rashad. It’s nice to see you. Your wife will need to stay tonight and then she will be discharged in the morning. We just want to make sure that she’s hydrated and that the antibiotics are working.” Liam groaned from his hospital bed and the doctor looked at him surprised, “Your majesty, we discharged you hours ago from the emergency room. Go home.” Anitah let out a loud snort and started laughing.

[squid--inc--writes]

Inktober 2019 day 2: mindless. Art + story.

Update: Masterlist

Warning for gore, tell me if there's anything else to tag. Also, message me, or reblog this and and say tag me, if you want to be able to read my Inktober stories, and see my art.

The day they came, the strange folk, was the day everything changed. Of course, cliche as that is, and, frankly, obvious in that anything new will make change happen. But that doesn't matter.

It started with a family of five, all seemed normal enough, a nuclear family model, really. They made friends, had parties, all that suburban crap. 

However, they always seemed off. Maybe it was the way how, when asked a question, or presented with a decision, it was always a blink, then an answer. Never more, never less. I brought it up to other people, my parents, my friends, anyone. No one seemed to think anything of it. Which is fair, I guess. It's inconsequential, right?

However, one day, that family of five turned into a family of four. I asked what happened to their baby. I know my friend Cami would babysit for them when they were away, and she'd gush about how they were. They said they only had their two sweet babies here, and gestured to their kids playing in the pool with some other kids.

I knew Cami was upset the first time she came back home, wondering what could have possibly happened. But after a party two days later, she didn't even seem to remember the third kid. Like it never happened.

About four days after, I could tell something was wrong. See, a few of the neighbours started acting like them. They'd wait a blink to answer, always cheerful, but never unique. People stopped mowing their lawn, too. Stopped caring.

Only three families left not falling into the trap. The klines two houses down, the Smiths across the street, and us. 

I couldn't parse what we had in common. The Smiths and my family were having plumbing issues, so we couldn't use water. I thought, maybe that's it. But the Klines always have perfect plumbing, so that couldn't be it.

It wasn't until we started seeing the state of the street that my family believed me. Among grass, and litter, there were clumps of hair on the ground. Hair and… other debris. And the smell, God the smell. Something smelled rotten, and fermented. I could barely go outside anymore. When I did, I'd have to cover my face with a cloth doused in my mother's perfume.

Luckily, we didn't go outside much anymore. No one threw parties anymore. In fact, I don't think most people came outside anymore.

When our pipes finally got fixed, that was when I knew we fucked up. I got up in the middle of the night, woken up by loud noises. I followed them down to the basement, hiding at the top of the stairs, behind the door. I opened the door just a little, and looked through. There was mom, holding my unconscious sister. Dad was holding a tool I didn't recognize. It became quickly apparent what it was, as it sliced through her skin, expertly flaying it from the muscle below. It peeled away, like an orange. Hair falling out in clumps. She didn't even wake up. I don't know if that's good or bad. I hope she wasn't awake at least.

Dad set down the… the thing. And he walked to the sink next to the laundry machine. That's when the stench hit me. Once he turned on the tap, something disgusting, the same as outside, only ten times more concentrated came out. The water looked fine, though. He took a long swig of water, then turned, and handed to my mother.

 She stood, and said, "I'll go get Joanna."

With that, I didn't bother shutting the door. I just slunk away, as fast as possible, far away from the stairs. I know she hesitated, noticing the door was slightly open. They had to know. So I got out the back door, didn't bother closing it, and ran. Didn't go around front, I risked walking through the backyard behind us. Brandy Jefferson lived there. Or she used to. 

I snuck through, trying not to trip anything, when I wound up kicking something sticky, and soft. It blew up around my foot, I slid, slamming my back on the ground, and lay there in silent pain.

I looked at the mess, now staining me. Dark, viscous, and mushy below me. I thanked whoever I could when I looked, and saw that it was a very old pumpkin. Very, very old. And, hilariously, smelled better than the air around me.

I crawled my way up to my feet, and once again thanked whatever entity saw it fit to make my escape a little easier. The grass, which grew unnaturally tall, over my head, and the fence between our yards, his my escape, from my mother, who was now calling out for me.

I moved as silently as possible, making my way around the yard, and coming it to the side of the street. My decision to stay in the grass was probably the only thing that kept me from getting grabbed.

Walking before me, I saw the street filled to bursting with disgusting, pale, almost translucent skinned beings. They all also had thick dark lines around their eyes, almost like veins, but like a new system was trying to work its way through the body, rather than accept the old routes. The smell was more pungent here, than before.

I have to cover my mouth and nose, and I feel my eyes watering.

Making my way past the parade of sickness, I weave my way through yards until I wind up across from the Klines. I glance down to where the Smiths should be, and notice that their lawn has been overgrown, despite it being nice and neat only a few days earlier. I peak around and see, despite having been immaculate not ten minutes ago, my home is overgrown as well. The only clean yard is the Klines. However, in order to make it there, I'd have to get across the street, then their yard, and pray that they would let me in. And that they were fine too. All without being seen. 

I can still hear my name being called, but it's getting further, and further away. Hopefully. So, I brace myself, take in as much air as I can without gagging, and I bolt across the street.

Someone had to have seen me in the house, because the door opens, and I sprinted in, not stopping, and slam in the wall a short distance from the entrance. The door slams shut behind me, and I feel a large, sharp object pointed at me. Mrs. Kline is staring down at me, eyeing me.

She says, "You alright?"

I stare at her, eyes wide, before I start just sobbing. I'm not really sure if it was from terror, exhaustion, or what, but I just sob.

I distantly hear a lock, and Mrs. Kline yells "Bill, get some blankets and the first aid kit."

Sitting up, I look and see the Kline kids. I never actually learned their names, cause they were homeschooled and only went outside on rare occasions. I feel bad about never saying hi.

Once they look me over, I learn their names. Bill Kline, the father, Angela Kline, the mother, and their, turns out three kids, are Betty and Beatrice, identical twins, and Carlisle, the eldest daughter.

I wind up moving in with them, discovering that they have an underground farm, essentially. It's a good thing the HOA isn't around anymore. The amount of readjusted pipes, or purification system thrown in. Even their own electric supply. It seems almost too good to be true.

Which is why I, stupidly, stopped trusting them. Which is why I, in the dead of night, left the house, and, with no key, did not lock it.

Which is why I was the death of the Klines. They could have been evil, they could have been good, but I never gave them a chance to prove it. Although, they already did so much for me.

So, on that night, I checked the street, closed the door, and snuck into another yard, having stolen a good amount of water and food. I thought I would be in the clear, but I should have known better.

I tried to leave the neighborhood, but it seemed to go on. Endless. What I finally realized was that, while it wasn't endless, it was being made to be. 

Buildings torn down to be made into houses. It got to a point where, although there were plenty of similarities, it was eerily different. Just enough, in just the right ways, that it was concerning.

I finally gave up on reaching the end. I knew I wouldn't be able to get past whoever was building it. How could I? Instead, I climbed a roof, in the dead of night, after days of walking, and tried to see anything.

At the center of the strange design being built with the houses, I saw it. The water processing plant. I could feel a bad idea rising.

Making my way there, sleeping in the grass during the day, and walking, walking, walking during the night. I still saw them, but none of them veered off course.

They would flood the streets after sunrise, and be gone before the afternoon. They would then return before sunset, and stay in their homes. the lawns weren't as safe as I'd like, but they'd have to do.

However, as time progressed, and I ran out of food, I could have sworn the sky was changing. While the time of day would be easily clear to see, there was a rolling smog that began to fill the sky. It made everything darker, easier to hide, but harder to breathe.

When I finally got to the center, that smell that I had gotten so used to, increased tenfold; so thick that I could bite a chunk out of the air, if I wanted to puke.

Fueled by the thought that, perhaps, there will be a section where maybe I can get clean water. Maybe I didn't ruin my chance.

That thought changed however, when I saw the hanging bodies of the Klines. Not flayed like everyone else, no.

Solid, bloody. I couldn't tell how they were hung there, but I could see stretched skin behind each of them. Not wanting to look any longer, I shifted my gaze. There, in the center of the pool, was a small bundle of sludge, pulsating, and whining.

I stepped forward, pulled by an unseen force, and crouch by the side of the water. Well, it looked like it once was.once close enough, it screamed out, the sound of a baby having a temper tantrum, but louder. Always more than what it should be, I couldn't stand it.

Covering my ears, and clenching my eyes shut, I didn't feel the push, but I certainly felt the fall. Then I didn't feel anything. I didn't think anything. My mind uploaded somewhere else, as a freak experiment, and my body…

My body left mindless.