#if anything i'll try to make it tonight and make a queue for the week including it
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"Alright, leave it to big sister!"
#a rare friday posting because i haven't been online in two weeks - today i offer my favorite aikatsu friends character 🤗#aikatsu#aikatsu friends#hinata ema#mygifs#idk if i'll be online tomorrow either tho so unfortunately cure lovely will still have to wait sorry for those waiting for her set 😢#if anything i'll try to make it tonight and make a queue for the week including it
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bathroom ~ heeseung x reader
ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 희승 ] ☆ an argument sparked between you and your lover before a party. in anger, you told him you weren't going to be going anymore. an hour into the party, you show up looking unbelievable, making Heeseung go absolutely insane.
word count; 4k
dom Heeseung x sub reader. established relationship, jealousy, public sex, mentions of alcohol and weed, degrading, gagging, praise, oral, smacking. not proof read.
"what the fuck Heeseung?" you angrily curse at your boyfriend, feeling rage boil through your veins. he rolls his eyes at you, watching your figure pace across the room as he sits down on the couch, listening to your rambles.
"I asked you to help me clean the apartment while I was gone doing errands. you didn't even get up off your game once." you glare at him. this passed week, school was stressing you the fuck out. exam after exam was piling up on your plate on top of an essay you were supposed to be writing. it also didn't help that you had to go grocery shopping sometime during the week and help your best friend plan a get together for her birthday party. everything was stressing you out and all you wanted was a little help from your boyfriend. you had asked him to clean the small apartment the two of you shared before you went out for the day at 11 am. you had arrived back to the house with groceries and birthday gifts at 5 pm, expecting the house to be at least a little picked up.
"I was gone for six hours, Heeseung, and you couldnt even put the dishes away?" you scoff at him, seeing guilt and anger arise in his body language as he shifts on the couch, eyeballing you from across the room.
"y/n, im sorry, okay? I was doing homework and other shit that it completely spaced my mind, I'll clean it tomorrow" he says to you, making your jaw clench as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest with a sigh.
"I wanted it done today so that we wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow, especially since were supposed to be going to Jay's party tonight." you take his silence as a queue to continue, staring into his eyes.
"im piled up to my neck with bullshit, all I wanted was your help and I can't even get that from you." you roll your eyes at him, beginning to walk into the kitchen. his eyes follow you, instantly standing up and following your figure.
"what are you doing? we're leaving soon?" he asks as you begin to put the dishes away, not even turning to face him.
"i'm not going to the stupid fucking party Heeseung, i'm cleaning the apartment since somebody can't" you snap at your boyfriend, turning around to put away a couple pots, completely ignoring his tall figure as he stands in the middle of the kitchen looking at you.
"so you're just gonna stay home and mope around because I didn't clean?" you turn around, glaring daggers at him at his words, your growing anger turning into rage.
"its not even that messy, y/n. I dont understand why you're so mad, lets just go-"
"if you can't understand why i'm upset, then you really need to check yourself, Heeseung. if its 'not that messy' then why didn't you clean it when I asked you to?"
"oh my god can you please stop nagging at me, I already told you its because I was doing homework so I just spaced it" you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you blow up at him.
"you can leave. i'll see you when you get home." is all you say before walking out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, leaving the conversation before one of you says something you might regret. Heeseung stares at the bedroom door, but decides to slip his shoes on. he knows that when the two of you get into arguments, that you often need space to cool down and to get distance away from each other so that you dont say anything you really don't mean.
Heeseung slips through the front door, locking it behind him as he heads to jays house, promising himself that he would stay sober.
you hear the front door close and you start to look around the room, your eyes landing on the clock by your bedside table. it read 5:45 pm, the party starts in fifteen minutes and you wonder to yourself how long Heeseung would be gone for.
you sigh out into nothingness, having an internal war with yourself before looking into the closet, your eyes landing on a deep purple dress. its short and made out of lace and satin. suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and before you can think; you grab the dress and walk into the bathroom.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"Heeseung, where is y/n?" sunghoon asks him, looking around the buzzing living room in search of your familiar figure. Heeseung takes another glance at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes, looking to see if you've texted him. sunghoon takes a seat next him, a red cup in his hands.
"she wasn't feeling good so she stayed home" Heeseung answers shortly, guilt starting to eat away at him from the argument that took place earlier.
"shit, that sucks, I hope she feels better" sunghoon says, taking a sip of his drink.
you walk into the house, music vibrating the floor as sweaty bodies stick to each other, the smell of alcohol and weed clouds your senses as you walk further into the house, making you way into the kitchen. you see one of your best girl friends, walking up to her. her eyes catch yours as she squeals, running up to you and attacking you in a hug. she smells like alcohol, and her sluggish actions give away the fact that she's drunk.
"hey beautiful, I didn't think that you were here" she says, slurring her words.
"I saw Heeseung earlier but you weren't with him so I just thought you weren't gonna show up" she rambles and you giggle. the mention of your boyfriends name makes you smile a little despite the argument you had before. you look around the kitchen and notice all the different varieties of alcohol organized on the counter. you walk over and look at all the different kinds.
you grab a red cup, walking back over to the alcohol and grabbing raspberry vodka and pouring it in your cup along. your best friend looks at you, questioning looks seep out of her eyes. she knows you hardly ever drink, so something must have happened. you smile at her reassuringly before throwing your head back, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible as your face scrunches up.
she walks over to you, pouring herself another shot as she giggles.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
your best friend and you are walking around as she checks out a few guys, talking to a few people she knows with you attached to her hip. she's a social butterfly, her wings flapping and her entanas buzzing whenever she's in a social setting such as this one. she's formed a small circle around herself, talking everybody's ear off.
you're standing next to her in silence, feeling someones eyes burning into you. you lift your eyes away from her talking mouth, finding one of heeseungs friends; Jake you think, staring at you. as a friendly gesture; you smile at him.
Jake returns your smile and makes his way up to you, deciding to perch himself next to you as he begins speaking.
"where's you boyfriend" he asks, you bite your lower lip, the feeling of anger and giddiness spreading through your body at the mention of him.
"don't know, don't care." is what you settle on, looking up at Jake as the group that your best friend formed begins to fade away, your back sinking into the wall as your conversation with Jake begins to flow.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"dude, Heeseung, I saw y/n just now" sunghoon says, sitting back on the couch next to him. heeseungs eyes snap onto sunghoon, not believing his words.
"what? that's impossible" Heeseung denies, checking his phone to see if you texted him: nothing. his jaw clicks as his eyes scan the area, not finding your figure anywhere.
"she was talking with Jake somewhere near the kitchen. her face was really red and Jake was standing super close to her" sunghoon warns, unknowingly fueling the fire in the pit of heeseungs stomach. Heeseung stands up off the couch, disappearing into the messy pile of bodies in search of one in particular.
"What?" you say to Jake, squinting your eyes, not quite hearing him over the loudness of the music blaring through the speakers.
"I said let's go outside" Jake leans down to your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek as he speaks. you turn your head to the side with a nod, walking in the direction of the sliding glass doors that lead outside by the pool.
Heeseung catches a glimpse of your hair and figure, but looses you just as quick as you came. his eyes dart around, looking for that familiar scent of the perfume you wear and your hair color. no matter how hard he tries, he just can't find you.
"I mean he is hardheaded sometimes, but I'll stick behind him no matter what" Jake tells you, taking another sip of whatever he has in his cup. you nod your head, finishing your drink as your nose scrunches up. the two of you are talking about Heeseung, and how hardheaded he can be sometimes, but you love him regardless. you wanted to show up to the party and surprise him, but a part of you is also hard headed, so you're not going out of your way to find him, when the timing is right, you'll find each other.
You catch Jake staring at you, his eyes slightly red. you look back, questioning him.
"what?" you ask, as he leans on the wall next to you, eyeballing you up and down. you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
"with all due respect for Heeseung, you are absolutely gorgeous, y/n" you knew Jake well enough that he wouldn't make any moves on you while in a relationship with his best friend, his brother, but that still didn't stop him from speaking the truth.
"Heeseung is one lucky man" speak of the devil, the man himself grips your wrist, flipping you around and clenching his jaw.
"h-hee!" you say in surprise. his grip on your wrist is tight and it has you looking down at your hand.
"I am one lucky man. lets go y/n" your boyfriend says to you, dragging you back in the hot house. your eyes don't leave the back of his head as he pulls you through the sea of bodies. your eyes catch glimpse of the front door, but before you are able to reach it, Heeseung pulls you down a hallway.
"what the hell Heeseung!" you say, but he doesn't respond or turn around. he opens a door and throws you inside. its a white bathroom with a big sink, a huge mirror complimenting the wall above it. Heeseung comes inside the room and locks the door behind him, spinning around to face you. your cheeks heat up at the expression on his face. his lips are tugged between his teeth as his eyes rack down your figure.
Heeseung's mind is going a million miles a minute. the god awful tiny dress you're wearing is driving him up the wall. it barely covers an inch of your body and it infuriates him that Jake saw just about every part of you that belonged to him.
"you shouldn't have came, y/n." he says under his breath as he stalks towards you, his hands coming down to unclip his belt. you shudder at the sound, arousal already pooling in your panties.
"why is that?" you question, already knowing the answer.
"come on sweetheart, you can't be that stupid, hm?" he throws his belt on the floor behind you. jealousy pricks at the tip of his tongue, your eyes looking directly into his.
"you didn't tell me you were showing up, but when I find out you do, you're standing two fucking inches away from my best friend as he basically confesses he wants to fuck you" his hand caresses your cheek as you look up at him through your eyelashes. his fingers move to entangle in your hair, feeling your silky locks as you shake your head.
"hee.. that's not-" his hands pull your hair back, your head arching as he pulls you into his body. he looks down at you, venom laced in his tone as he speaks.
"you think Jake can fuck you as good as be, huh? did he get your pussy wet as much as I do?" his other hand comes up and below your purple dress, moaning as heeseungs fingers come in contact with the flimsy fabric of your panties. he chuckles as he lowers his head so his breath fans your lips, his brushing over yours as he continues
"you're fucking filthy." he forces you down onto your knees, and the way your thighs clamp together tells him everything he needs to know. his hands pull down his pants, the tent in his boxers prominent and aching.
you look up, your mouth watering and your eyes begging. your hands find the waistband of his boxers and you breath out heavily, your head feeling light as Heeseung grips your chin inbetween his fingers.
"suck it." his command is cold and you obey; pulling down his boxers as his cock springs free, half hard and already fucking huge. you gulp, no matter how many times you suck his cock, you're never prepared for how badly your throat stings afterwards. you spit into your palm before taking his tip into your hand, your fingers playing with his slit before pumping him slightly. you feel him begin to grow in your palm as you kitten lick his tip, your hand coming down to massage his balls.
you hear your boyfriend his above you, you take this opportunity and take his head into your mouth, your warm tongue swirling around his tip as you hallow your cheeks, beginning to suck him off. your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, his fingers entangling in your hair as he groans, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.
you begin bobbing your head up and down his length faster, saliva spilling down your cheeks as you whine around his size, looking up at him through watery eyes as your feel your knees begin to sting.
he looks down into your glossy eyes, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"taking me so well, wanna take my cum, sweet angel?" you nod your head moaning out a choked yes please as he chuckles at your desperation. the hand on the back of your head pushes you down his shaft, forcing you to deep throat him. his swollen tip hits the back of your throat as he begins to thrust his hips in your face, but not too fast. you breathe in through your nose, trying your best to keep your cheeks sucked in and hallow as he begins to fuck your face. your hands come up to grip his thighs, keeping yourself stable.
his cock twitches in your mouth and you swallow around him, throwing Heeseung off the edge as his hips still in your face, his cock pressing up against the back of your throat as he shoots warm, sticky white ropes of cum down your throat. your eyes close as more tears fall freely down your pink cheeks.
Heeseung looks down at you as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. you swallow all his salty seed, a couple pearly drops fall down your chin and out of the corners of your mouth. your fucked out expression has him grabbing under your arms and forcing you to your feet. you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you onto the counter of the sink, your hands entangle in his hair as he pushes his body into your core.
"h-hee.. please. need- need you please" your begs are just above a whisper, his hands trailing up your thighs to the hem of your underwear. his face comes down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin as your heat grinds down on his still-hard dick, whimpering at the small amount of friction he's gifting you.
"you want it baby, yeah?" he teases, one of his hands coming to feel your damp panties. he hisses at your arousal, your folds unbelievably wet as he traces a finger up and down your clothed slit. Heeseung grabs your underwear, pulling it back and then releasing it as it smacks against your pussy. you jump in his hold, more whines spilling from your lips as he chuckles into your skin.
his fingers pull your panties to the side, his thumb pressing up against your clit as you moan at the feeling, finally getting the friction you so desperately craved. his fingers massage through your wet folds, collecting your slick before one of his long fingers prods at your fluttering hole, begging for your boyfriend to touch you.
"please" you plea, your face coming to bury itself in heeseungs next, your breath fanning your skin. his finger slides in with ease, stretching you slightly as your warm walls squeeze his digit. you shudder at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth as your fingers dig into your lovers back. Heeseung kisses your temple before beginning to pump you, his long finger curling in and out of your sopping cunt in a squelching noise.
one of your hands moves to grip is hair as the other stays wrapped around his back. heeseungs free hand moves from your thigh, trailing upwards to the small of your back, caressing and rubbing you through your thin dress, holding you as close to his body as possible. your moans pick up volume as he adds a second finger, curling upwards and slightly grazing your sweet spot. your legs jolt and you inhale sharply. your mind feels fuzzy as Heeseung splits you apart on his fingers, his thumb rubbing slow, concentrated circles on your clit to help ease you up.
"h-hee.. hmm a-ah" you moan his name, your body beginning to shake. he brings his head down to your ear, his breath fanning you as he speaks
"tell me all about it beautiful" you whine in response, your fingers tugging at his locks harshly now, your orgasm approaching quickly. your hold around him tightens as your legs begin to shake. Heeseung looks at himself through the mirror, his eyes finding the back of your figure and he can't help but admire you, even without seeing your face. you turn your head, Heeseung mimicking your actions as you slam into each other, your lips meeting his in a sloppy, wet kiss.
heeseungs fingers curl inside you again, massaging your g-spot and you buck your hips forward, moans loud and needy as your orgasm snaps, cumming all over heeseungs fingers. you grind your hips into his hand, riding out your high. heeseungs mouth moves against yours hungrily, biting your bottom lip before he parts. you go to whine in protest but stop yourself when he quickly forces your panties down and below your ankles.
before you can say anything, he balls up your underwear and shoves them in your mouth. he hikes your dress up and over your hips, your dripping pussy on full desplay as he takes his cock in his hand and bullies his way inside your walls. your eyes widen as he does so, a choked moan attempting to escape your mouth. he can't wait anymore, remembering the way Jake was looking at you in your tiny little dress, your breasts on full display. his anger begins to rise again, his hips beginning to move against yours at a quick pace
"gonna fuck this pussy until you know who you belong to, understood?" he slaps your puffy cunt, earning a muffled squeal from you as your arms wrap around him again, holding his body close to yours. you curl into your boyfriend, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it kisses your g-spot repeatedly, tiny babbles and whines leaving your lips.
his fingers work at your clit as his hips snap against yours, your legs shaking in his hold as goosebumps trail from your thigh, up to your hip where Heeseung ghosts his fingertips, holding you in place.
your muffled cries eg him on further, an idea striking in his mind. he pulls out of you, dragging you off the sink and spinning you around, forcing you to bend over the counter.
"spread you legs for me, pretty" you happily listen, your soiled panties still gagging you. he pushes himself into your wet, swollen pussy, your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he begins to thrust into you from behind, hitting all your right places at a much deeper angle. your ass jiggles each time his hips meet your behind, your back arched in a perfect slope.
Heeseung slaps your ass, roughly, causing a squeal to erupt from the back of your throat, your walls clenching his dick as if you're trying to milk him.
"oh fuck-" your boyfriend says in a raspy tone. the way your ass bounces with each of his thrusts mixed with the way your muffled whimpers and moans sound, it starts driving Heeseung up the wall as he smacks the plush of your ass again. your head dips down, falling onto your forearms that rest on the counter.
Heeseung grips your hair, forcing your body up into an arch as your eyes fly open, looking at the scene unfolding in the mirror. Heeseung moves his face to your neck, sucking sweet purple marks into your skin that match the color of your dress.
"look at you baby, taking my cock so well, such a good girl hmm?" he slaps your ass again, your eyes closing slightly as you hiss. your look at yourself through half lidded, fucked out eyes. your legs are apart and your dress his hiked up, heeseungs dick splitting you open as he fucks you from behind, deep, purple hickeys litter your soft skin and one of your breasts fell out of your dress.
"pussy's mine... all. fucking. mine." he thrusts inbetween each word, your juices gushing out of your spazzaming hole and down your thighs onto the counter.
"he-hee please !" your panties fall out of your mouth, your loud moans echoing off the chambers of the bathroom and fill heeseungs ears.
"such a messy girl.. you think you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart? wanna take all of it like the fucking slut you are?" his hand detangles from your hair to grip your throat, giving it a light squeeze as a threat... or a promise? either one has your knees buckling below you.
"y-yes please, wan' u're cum please" you chant, the pit of your abdomen feeling unbelievably tight as you feel your orgasm about to wash over you.
"cum all over me sweetheart, make a fucking mess all over me, I've got you" he coaxes you to your orgasm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you arch your back into him, a loud squeal drips of your tongue as you cum all over him. heeseungs thrusts halt, his hips stilling against your ass as he buries his face in your neck, shooting white ropes of cum deep inside you.
it takes a minute for the both of you to calm down, your boyfriend pulling his cock out of you. your guys's mixed cum drips down your leg, running down your thighs. Heeseung laughs before grabbing some toilet paper, turning you around and hoisting you onto the counter to clean you off.
you wrap your arms around his frame, hugging him as you kiss every inch of his face
"I love you, hee" you say as he pulls away from you, throwing the cum-stained toilet paper in the trash. he looks at you, placing his veiny hands on your thighs, rubbing soft shapes into your skin.
"I love you, beautiful" he responds, cupping your face in his palm before leaning in to place a warm kiss on your lips. he helps you hop off the counter, unlocking the door.
"hey wait, my panties!" you laugh at him as he stuffs them in his pocket, smirking down at you. he opens the door and gestures for you to exit first. you huff at him and walk out, praying nobody sees anything. you gasp as Heeseung lands a smack to your ass as you walk in front of him out of the room.
"hee!" you smile as you look behind you and at your boyfriend.
"I love youuu"
#⊹ ⋆꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹#girlblog ♡#♡#heeseung#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#lee heesung x reader#heeseung x yn#heeseung x reader smut#lee heeseung#lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader smut#enhypen smut#enhypen heeseung
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Update
Not feeling so hot and I'm not going to do anything impulsive at 8PM on a Friday evening but
here is a link to a sfs folder with ALL of my content that's currently only hosted on patreon.
I want to add individual sfs links to the tumblr posts but that's a lot and I'm now regretting never adding alt dl links this whole time... and sorry I don't think the downloads in the sfs folder are in order... it also might be some other things, like fixed meshes or stuff. tbh I just added everything I've made after April 3rd 2023 since that was the last time I uploaded anything to sfs.
I guess while I'm here... I was going to wait until after I finish up the last of my active requests (probably by Monday, I'm almost done) but I desperately need a break from CC. I sent a group message on the 17th to my $4 and $6 patrons encouraging them to cancel, but I know not everybody knows patreon even has dms so maybe you'll see this post and I'll reach out again in the coming days so nobody is wasting their money. I am so immensely burnt out and I need to not create for a while. This is completely my own fault, nobody made me work on CC for 8-10 hours 5 days a week for the last several months and I fully knew it wasn't sustainable ages ago but I kept doing it because it made me feel good, until it didn't. Quite honestly, even before I sent the group message the instant wave of relief I felt just having made the decision to take a break... that caught me off guard but just confirmed I need this. I do feel really awful about it because I feel like I'm letting people down but at the same time I don't want to hate creating which was already happening. That being said, I don't know how long the lull in CC is going to be, and if you're only following me strictly for CC I apologize. As said I am still finishing up one request I still had, I'm about 75% done with that as of this post. But that's gonna be it for a while.
There is a part of me that wants to stop using patreon completely and unpublish my creator page (which is what I'm not going to impulsively do tonight without properly thinking it through...since there are positives like how easy it is to download files and whatnot) but I'd again encourage not only those who joined the $4 and $6 tiers but also the $2 tier to cancel so that you aren't wasting your money. If I did do this I would definitely do the individual sfs links on everything first. I'd not just leave you guys unable to download my stuff.
So, what does that mean for this blog? I'll spare ye, impatient readers, who have already read a lot because I ramble⬇️
Well, as of posting this I still have THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR Strangetown posts in my queue. And I'm not tired of playing that.
I'm looking forward to having an opportunity to do all of the things I've been neglecting. I'm finally going to go through the subfolder within my downloads of everything I'm downloaded the last few months and decide if I wanna keep it in my game or not. And finish default replacing everything. And all my other various little projects I haven't been doing.
Also, I want to start playing Veronaville 😮I've already started downloading lots from kattaty to replace the in-game ones, and I found a cool replacement for the neighborhood map. I am leaning towards making a new sub-blog for this so that you don't have to try and follow Strangetown/LFT posts and Veronaville/ALT posts at the same time. I've only ever played the Veronaville sims for like one day as part of a super failed megahood years ago so I'd like to get to know them.
So basically, I guess I'm a gameplay blog for now? Until I want to create anything again anyways, but I don't know when that will be.
I don't know how to end this post... I'm sorry for the disappointment, but thank you so much for enjoying my stuff 💛💛
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last twilight e2 thoughts feelings etc
As always, I'm just some dude on the internet. I could be way off base with some of this but I just think it's fun to think about. Night asking Mhok to make him a cup of coffee was very interesting. Mhok is not there as a general staff, cook, etc. He's there to help Day and only Day and Night is fully capable of making himself a cup of coffee. Curious if this is a hint at Night helping himself to things intended for Day, coveting things Day has, etc. It definitely didn't feel like a throw away action.
I appreciate Porjai very, very gently reprimanding Mhok for being nosy in cleaning up Day's room. It was a bit of a misstep for Mhok and he needed to know that. It's important to let us disabled people ask for help when we need it and not assume we always need help. While the state of Day's room was very likely a concern for safety reasons and general health he should have been asked at the very least if it should or could be cleaned. It's not unlike grabbing the handles of someone's wheelchair and pushing them when they didn't ask to - You don't know what Day has a system for, you don't know what paths he's memorized, or even what obstacles he may have set up for himself intentionally to guide himself to different parts of the room. While it seems difficult for Day to ask for help it is something he's going to have to get accustomed to and he will with time, jumping in and making changes without his consent robs him of more of his already so very scarce agency he's been allowed.
Aon telling Day he needs to be patient and learn to talk to sighted people is huge. I made a post last week about my favorite thing being Day's anger and this is absolutely true, however, it can be so very easy to wallow in your grief and anger if you let yourself. It's important for Day to be angry, it's important for him to be impatient, but it's also important for him to push past those things and grow. Day needs to reevaluate his interpersonal interactions, he needs to relearn how to socialize especially without social queues from body language (something we often process subconsciously and take for granted.) All Day has now to go off of is voice inflection and his own critical thinking skills. He's going to have to be patient with people, he's going to have to adjust, and he's going to have to give Mhok a genuine chance. It's easy to isolate yourself when you're disabled, far too easy, and it's so much harder and scarier to try.
In the same vein as my first comment, the fumbled eye drops scene is so important, I loved it so much. It's Day realizing his limitations, coming to terms with them, and accepting that he needs help - he can't do everything on his own and that's okay, there are people there to help him if he just asks. And Mhok just does it. He doesn't make him feel silly or stupid or feeble, he just looks for the eye drops and hands them over. It's not A Thing, it's not anything more than just helping someone. It's easy, and it should be.
The Boob Grab sure is something. I did not know Jimmy was built like that. I'll talk more about this later.
"Living alone in a small fish tank is lonely, right?"
Oh fuck me UP. Living alone in this tiny bedroom is lonely, isn't it Day?
"Goldfish have a short memory. It can't be lonely."
Perhaps the goldfish's memory is so short because no one has ever taken the time to stick around. No one was worth remembering. And maybe the goldfish wishes he remembered some things less.
The fish is dying, suffocating in it's own filth and loneliness, suffocating from a lack of consideration and care. But suddenly the goldfish goes outside, it breathes fresh air, smells the blooming jasmine, and suddenly it doesn't feel like it's suffocating anymore. Things are a little clearer - not literally but it no longer feels like it's swimming through a miasma. (The goldfish is Day, btw.)
FUCK. ME. UP. I'm eating all of this like the delicious anniversary dinner I had tonight.
So lunch. I noticed this at the beginning of the episode but it's really driven home here. Zero accommodations have been made for Day in the span of a fucking year. There's been no safety measures made, no pathways made more accessible, and even more frustrating they've reorganized the fucking kitchen. It's like they sealed Day in a tomb and are just waiting for him to die so they can move on with business as usual. I would ask 'how is Day supposed to do anything for himself' but it's very clear no one thought of that. They all thought of him as this shambling shell of a man that couldn't possibly do basic tasks like find the soy sauce for himself, they didn't consider him even as an afterthought when rearranging everything. It shows Day's fall from grace within his own family in such a brutal way and it makes me so angry with his family.
The scene with Night and his friends is a lot. Day's anxiety is so palpable and the comments made make me wonder if Day's condition has been kept under wraps as some sort of shameful secret. I would be interested to see if there was an NDA in Mhok's contract.
And then we get Mhok's anxiety and raw fear. Mhok's worst nightmares came to fruition and he knows what hopelessness, frustration, and despair can do to a person. He knows it only takes the smallest thing to push someone into the unthinkable and he can't allow that to happen again. He failed to see it last time, failed to answer a call for help. He won't ever miss that call again.
Here's where we're going to come back to the boob grab and here's where I could be WAY FUCKING OFF BASE. I know we all love it, Jimmy boobie stress ball teehee, but there's also a moment of shock on Day's face when it happens. He's alarmed and taken aback and rightfully so because what the fuck this man is half naked in his room??? Then we come to this point where Mhok has just burst into his room while Day is naked and vulnerable and he knows Mhok has seen him. His reaction might seem harsh or impulsive but here's the tragic thing - A painful, horrible amount of caretakers in the world take advantage of their charges monetarily, sexually, or otherwise. (It's something I've personally seen happen to friends and family.)It's not the rule, but it happens enough to be notable.
It would not be difficult for Day to be taken advantage of and this is only his.. third? fourth? day with Mhok who is still very much a stranger to him. Mhok was completely justified in his reaction (and realistically should have a key for Day's room for emergencies only because God forbid Day fall in the bath or something) but Day's reaction is every bit justified as well. But I don't blame Day for his reaction because he very likely was afraid and his emotions were already so heightened from the mess with his brother, and I applaud Mhok for just leaving and leaving it at that. They both needed to calm down and Mhok leaves. He respects Day's decision, his agency, etc. He walks away from a job that could change his life.
Once again The Little Prince narrates the lives of these two perfectly. No notes, perfect, beautiful, muah.
The fucking slippers. Finally, someone has taken the time to understand. It was a simple solution to a large part of Day's frustration and pain. It has given him some of his agency back, taken away some of his fear. These stupid ugly goldfish slippers have given him so much and perhaps Mhok understands far more than Day gave him credit for because finally someone is listening to him, listening without him having to beg.
And Day going to see Mhok? That's huge. He could've asked Porjai to bring Mhok or ask him to come by but no; like The Prince he approaches the untamed fox.
And Mhok's desperation to understand. Fucking hell. He's gone above and beyond just being a caretaker and the way he says 'the way people look at us.' Because it's an us now, he wants to stand right by Day's side and shoulder this journey with him, to hold his hand and tell Day 'I'm here with you, you aren't alone.' I'm gonna chew my fucking upholstery.
This is only solidified with the addition of Big Mhok. Little Day isn't alone anymore and Big Mhok might be scary and intimidating but not for Little Day, never for Little Day. And then Day uses some of his precious ten fleeting seconds to see Mhok, to put a face to this insane, caring, brusque, ridiculous man that would live his days blindfolded just to understand someone else's perspective. Because Mhok is worth seeing.
Anyway they make me fucking insane, your honor. I don't know if I'll do this for every episode (if people like it enough, sure) but this one in particular had me feeling a lot of things.
#last twilight#last twilight the series#ltts meta#reposting bc i misspelled some names and wanted to add some comments and tweak some wording#oat meta
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Project Amaranth (4)
[Bucky Barnes x Reader]
Word Count: 2268
Summary: Bucky and Sam move you to a new safe house.
Warnings: None
A/N: AH sorry, my loves. I had class tonight and didn't notice that the post didn't go through when it was supposed to. Nice to know that my queue still only works half the time. Reliably unreliable. Anyway! Happy Halloween!
Catch up here!
"How does he already look mad?" Sam sighed as the car cleared the last bend in the long, heavily forested road to Steve's house.
He was waiting on the porch, leaning on the rail with crossed arms and a displeased expression as he watched them approach up the gravel drive.
"His face got stuck that way when he was eight years old. Try not to take it personally," Bucky said mildly, smirking at the snort it elicited from Sam.
"Alright, I'll go talk to him. Let him know what's going on before we spring his new roommate on him"
"He's not going to say no," Bucky said, glancing at you where you sat in the backseat, hands tightly clenched in your lap.
"I know, but we still need to give him a chance to."
Sam put the car in park, pausing for a moment to meet your eyes in the rearview mirror.
"One way or another, we'll figure this out. We've never been good at giving up on people. You okay with me telling Steve everything you've shared with us so far?"
The corner of your mouth tugged down, but you nodded.
"Okay. I assume you two need to talk too. Bucky, I'll text you when we're ready for you. But take all the time you need."
With one last nod that seemed more for his own benefit than for yours or Bucky's, Sam climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. You watched in silence as he approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder and drawing him into a brief hug before gesturing him inside. Steve glanced towards the car curiously, but made no show of protest, disappearing into the house and closing the door behind them.
"You didn't warn him," you said quietly. "About me. He doesn't know I'm here or what you're going to ask him to do."
Though your words had a ring of accusation, your voice was flat, emotionless. He knew it well. It never meant anything good.
With a bracing breath, Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, moving quickly to join you in the backseat before you could jump to any dangerous conclusions. You looked a little startled by his sudden closeness, but you tried to hide it, scooting a couple inches away from him while masking it as a change in position. Your shoulder pressed firmly against the door, but you didn't reach for the handle, watching him closely.
"We didn't tell him because we didn't want to risk anyone else finding out. Sam called to tell him we were visiting, and that was enough to let him know something was going on without tipping off anyone who might have been listening."
You pursed your lips, turning your head slightly to scan the surrounding trees while keeping Bucky in your peripheral.
"I thought you said he was your best friend. Do best friends not visit each other?"
Bucky smiled a little.
"I visit. I just never ask."
Your eyes returned to his as you gave a speculative hum.
"And Sam Wilson?"
"Sets up visits at least a week in advance."
"He sounds like a better friend."
"He might be. But Steve's known me too long to give up on me now. He's always happy to see us anyway."
The small smile you'd been sporting slipped a little.
"Not this time."
"He's just worried. He'll get over it. I just want to make sure you're still okay with this plan before we go inside."
"Well, I don't have a better one, so..." You sighed. "Nothing can be worse than where I was before."
"Come on now. The couch wasn't that bad."
Bucky smiled when his comment shocked a laugh out of you. Fleeting and confused, but a laugh nonetheless.
"That's - That's not what I - "
"I know," Bucky said with a shrug. "But it made you smile for a second."
You stared at him, something strange passing through your eyes. He thought you may have been about to speak, but the chirping of his phone had you receding again behind a stoic mask.
Sam, telling him they were ready.
“You alright?”
You nodded.
“I trust Steve with my life,” he reminded you quietly. “He’ll always try to do the right thing. He won’t hurt you.”
“What if I hurt him?”
“Do you want to?”
“No, of course not,” you said quietly, frowning down at your hands.
“Then you won’t,” Bucky said with a shrug.
“That simple?” you scoffed, but Bucky stayed steady, nodding slowly.
“This time? Yeah, I think it is.”
You broke eye contact again to tug restlessly at the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt.
“Ready?”
“I guess.”
Bucky slipped out of the backseat, holding the door open for you as you followed. Neither of you spoke as you approached the front door, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots softening to a nearly silent step on the porch. He couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or instinct.
Sam and Steve were sitting on the couch when the two of you walked in, but Steve stood slowly as you came into view. You held position one step behind Bucky and half a step to the right.
“Hi,” Steve said with a gentle smile, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets to curb the habit of a polite handshake. “I’m Steve.”
You gave an uneasy nod, face tense and blank like you were unsure how to act or what to say in this situation.
“I know we’ve just met, but I’m really glad you’re here.”
Your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting to the side in question as your eyes darted to Bucky and back to Steve again. Steve wasn’t smiling anymore, eyes solemn and projecting that 110% sincerity that only he could pull off.
“Whatever happened before and whatever Hydra did to you, I hope you know that you didn’t deserve this.”
You blinked hard, faltering a shuffled step backwards. Bucky stepped in smoothly before the overwhelm could shift to panic.
“Does this mean she can stay here with you?” he asked.
“Of course. As long as she needs.”
Bucky glanced over to you, and though you still looked slightly dazed you nodded your acceptance.
“Okay. Her stuff is in the car. Give me a hand with it.”
The sharp clap he landed to Steve’s shoulder left no room for argument, and you lingered uncomfortably in the hall as Steve followed Bucky outside.
“You’re going to need to ease up a little, pal,” Bucky said softly as they trailed down the porch steps.
The sun had already set, but full dark had not yet descended. Between the gaps in the trees, the clouds were clinging to the last of their fiery glow.
“I just wanted her to know where I stand,” Steve said, holding out his hands obligingly as Bucky reached into the backseat for your borrowed duffle bag and the two heavy backpacks from the bunker.
“I get that, but you can’t treat her the same way you treated me when you found me again. Even when I could barely remember you, I still loved you. Like muscle memory. It made things easier. But if you try to talk to her about her feelings, she might punch you.”
“Give me a little credit,” Steve said, accepting the duffle and choosing not to comment when Bucky kept a tight hold on both backpacks. “I wasn’t going to start with that.”
“I mean it. Go easy.”
Something shifted in Steve’s eyes at the severe expression Bucky leveled him with.
“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll give her space. I’m not trying to scare her off, Buck.”
“I know you wouldn’t mean to. But your heart's too big for your own good, and that can be… a lot. For people who aren’t used to it.”
Steve nodded slowly, a smile starting to creep up the corner of his mouth.
“What did Sam call it again?”
“Aggressive compassion.”
“Yep that’s the one,” Steve said with a snort. “I’ll try to tone it down for now. No promises.”
When they reentered the cabin, Sam had managed to convince you to sit on the couch with him. You still looked uncomfortable, but you seemed to be making a concentrated effort to push through it.
Bucky surrendered custody of the backpacks to you immediately, and as you started to tuck them between your feet and the couch, Steve spoke up.
“Let me show you where you’ll be staying. So you have somewhere safe to keep those.”
You looked up at him, fingers tensing slightly around the straps before you nodded.
“Okay.”
The guest bedroom Steve led you too was the same room Bucky always stayed in when he visited. He’d probably spent more time here than he had in his own apartment bedroom. It was small but clean, the queen bed in the center was crisply made and covered with a plush green duvet. There was only room for one bedside table, equipped with a small lamp, a candle, and an unopened box of tissues. There were two extra phone chargers in the drawer.
Steve set your duffle bag down on the foot of the bed.
“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable. There’s a fan and an electric blanket in the closet if you get too warm or too cold…” he trailed off, looking around the room for inspiration before shrugging. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. The bathroom is across the hall, and it’s just for you. I use a different one.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly.
“You’re welcome. We’ll give you some space to unpack. Look around.”
You nodded absently, already opening the closet and shoving the two backpacks into the back corner. Steve didn’t comment, leading Bucky back out to the living room in pensive silence.
“Everything good?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Steve said. “How long does she need to stay for? What’s the plan?”
Sam looked pointedly at Bucky who rolled his eyes.
“We’re working on it.”
“Working on it…” Steve repeated, his face carefully neutral.
“I’ve been focusing on getting her somewhere safe,” Bucky said, crossing his arms defensively. “I haven’t had time to think much farther than that.”
“Okay…” Steve said quietly, but the slight strain lurking behind the calm facade made Sam snort.
“I think you’re breaking his brain.”
“He’s done plenty without a plan before,” Bucky argued.
Steve hummed noncommittally.
“Having no plan is better than having a bad plan.”
Sam obligingly switched sides, hearing the frustration in Bucky’s voice. This was intensely personal for him. He was terrified of fucking it up.
“Give us a couple weeks. We’ll come by again and figure things out,” Sam said, standing from the couch.
“Okay,” Steve agreed, accepting the handshake-turned-hug Sam offered.
“We should probably go. Let you guys get settled,” Sam said, turning towards Bucky. “You ready?”
Bucky glanced back towards the door of the guest room.
“I’ll meet you at the car. I wanna…” He gestured vaguely at the hallway, and Sam shot him a significant look.
“This was your idea, you know.”
“I know. I’m not - I just want to check on her before we leave.”
“You told me you’d be cool about this.”
“And I am. But I wanna see where her head’s at.”
Sam sighed.
“Alright. Five minutes.”
“Or what? You’re gonna leave me here?” Bucky asked skeptically.
“No. But I am gonna talk to you about boundaries and countertransference all the way back home.”
“Fine. Five minutes,” Bucky said with a grimace, waving Sam towards the front door.
Steve shot Bucky a curious look that he pretended not to notice before following Sam.
You were sitting on the bed when Bucky entered the room, looking around the small space with the frown of a lost child. You glanced up at the sound of his boots on the old hardwood, but your expression did not change.
“Are you going to be okay here?” he asked, resisting the urge to close the door behind him. Sam and Steve would be outside by now. “You feel comfortable?”
You tilted your head curiously, gave a little shrug.
“I’m fine. Better than the alternatives.”
“So you’ll stay?” he asked carefully. “You’re not going to run?”
“For now, I will stay,” you confirmed.
Bucky studied you for a moment, the way you always studied him. You sat still, patiently allowing his gaze to linger without comment. You looked sincere, as far as he could tell. Nervous but not quite restless. He had no way of knowing how long your resolve would last, but for the moment it seemed that you at least wanted to stay.
“Could you tell me if that changes? Please?”
Your eyes narrowed slightly. Not anger. Focus.
“You’re worried,” you said softly, and Bucky took a deep breath.
“Yes.”
“Tell me why?”
He bit his lip absently. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he wasn’t sure how much of the truth to share. How much would make you feel safe. How much would make you run.
“I want to help you, but I’m not sure I’m doing it right,” he said finally.
You sat with that for a moment, never taking your eyes off him.
“I’m not in chains,” you said. “I’m free to walk away when I want to. That’s what you told me.”
“Yeah.”
“If you weren’t helping me the right way, I would leave.”
“That’s… true.”
“It is,” you said insistently, standing to move a little closer to him.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “So… good, for now?”
“Good. For now.”
---------------------
I've been missing this one - what about you? How are ya feeling? What are we thinking?
Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink @rebekahdawkins @xxbuckysbxx
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Alright fam. A 45 minute nap and three cups of iced coffee later, and I am here for the night. I haven't been able to write much this week due to long work days with early mornings, but tomorrow is the weekend so. Here's my plan of action (not that any of you care, but): - Beach threads, first and foremost. Beach week ends tomorrow, but I will still be continuing those threads. If you drop them on your own accord, that's totally fine, but I will always respond to everything sent me. Those will all be posted tonight. - Anything in my inbox that is NOT a starter. I have a few of the bingo cards to respond to, etc, so those will be coming out tonight. - Whatever other threads I get to, will be put in the QUEUE. I panic using it because I have this fear that if I don't respond right away, no one will want to write with me. But I've noticed a lot of other people feeling the same way. It's just easier for me right now when I have *squints* 49 inbox things and 123 drafts. The sad thing is that it isn't even for lack of working hard - I try to write a minimum of two hours a night. But y'all are fucking fast, so putting it in the queue will break things up for me so I can hopefully get that number down.
I love you all. Thanks so much for being rock stars and understanding. <3 I am strapping in for a long night, so feel free to send me random IC asks about any of my threads, relationships, Angel in general, etc.
OH and to make life even harder on myself - I suddenly gained like 15 new followers this week? Hello random citizens! I'd love to interact, so go ahead and comment if you want a random starter (I'll put my spotify on shuffle and write a starter based on that song since that seems to be the easiest way for me). I'll just add them to my ever growing pile.
Mwah mwah mwah.
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Was on the phone with my dad tonight, and he had asked me why I had spent almost half of my 'cafe money*' in my favorite second hand bookstore. (context: they still get my monthly debit card report in the mail. I've given them permission to open it. It’s technically their money I'm using, as I have no other income in that account, so they might as well know how it’s being used. 🤷♀️)
Anyways- this is basically how the convo went:
Papa Hopster: so- what did you buy at (my favorite bookstore)? I see quite a few purchases there. I'm curious. me: funny story... Papa Hopster: should I be concerned? me: no no, I just think some person who liked to read early 19th century history books just kicked the bucket. (my favorite bookstore) just exploded with books on the topic. they have so many that the books are stacked on the floor next to their sections. I've gone into both locations almost every day for the past 2 weeks. its to the point that the seller now knows me by name...
I then hear a really long sigh from the other end of the phone. he's probably pinching the bridge of his nose...
Mama Hopster (in the background): At least shes not doing drugs! or clubbing! or worse! Papa Hopster: have you thought about how you're going to fit those into your dorm when you eventually move to one? Me: Its not hard to fit them all into my little bookcase, which will fit into my dorm room. I just pack them in like it’s Tetris, which you know I score high on consistently. and when mom eventually finishes digitizing those old albums,** I'll have more room!
Queue another sigh.
my parents have definitely given up on trying to get me to do some normal young adult things. but as my mom says, I'm not doing anything stupid nor am I becoming a hermit lol.
*I get a small allowance from my parents each month. it isn't very much, but enough to go out and explore. I had been specifically told that it was to make sure i actually go outside and explore. (and not become a hermit or some kind of hikikomori. Ouch, but true T-T.) **My mother inherited a bunch of old family photo albums. we both decided they were safer in my room where there is a consistent temperature and no mice, unlike the other place it could've gone to be stored.
#this is just one of those interactions i wanted to share#my parents probably dont get after me for getting more books because they are bookworms themselves#historical#kind of#personal#books
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Thess vs A Return to Normalcy
Updates from the workplace, and the news is ... for once, not terrible.
See, turns out that Scruffman came in on Sunday, along with the other part-timer (who has been petitioning for more hours and I think she's going to get them at this rate), and really registered the massive dent I made in the backlog. Because seriously, that whole week we went from just under 300 to just under 150 and that was about 95% me. So we're finally back down to the low-mid double digits in terms of the size of the typing queue, and I have a feeling Scruffman had a general sense of, "Ooh. [Thess] did a lot. [Thess] should not have been doing that much, I know that."
Scruffman does not have the best communication skills, mind - especially not over email. He sent an email going, "Give me a bell ASAP" and actually included his number, which I have had stored on my phone for literally years, so I thought there was going to be something urgent and horrible. Because, you may recall, he was going to touch base with me today about potentially having to drag my poor fibro-riddled carcass over to fucking Hampstead owing to lack of bums in seats. I was concerned that this was going to be a call where Issues were brought up.
However, no, this was his way of saying, "I has a concern and want to make sure you're okay after the hours you put in last week". I didn't pull punches, either. He asked how I was doing, which is how he starts all telephone conversations, really, and I just told him, "I seriously overdid it last week". I could hear the gears turning as he was going, "Oh. Yeah. Oh, right" before moving on to the whole thing about the various unexpected absences.
So ... turns out that Violet, Goblin, and Temp are all out at the moment, though Goblin and Temp are apparently coming back on Friday. He's got Other Part-Timer coming in tomorrow, so it's really only Thursday where there might be a requirement for me to come in. But apparently that's only if Scruffman himself takes ill or something else goes entirely to hell. It was pretty clear that he was trying desperately hard not to make me go into the office, particularly after the couple of weeks I've already put in. He also recognised that I do more typing when I'm at home than I do at the office, and then surprised me further by going, "I don't necessarily mean overtime or anything!" like he very much doesn't want me to have to do any more of that either.
So the overall gist is, "Things are back to normal, we will try to manage things without forcing you on to public transport, thank you for all the help and we promise we're not going to make you do too much more of that!" I'm not sure what happens with my overtime - whether it's Time Off In Lieu or actual money, but I think I'll find that out when Head Honcho comes back from his own holidays ... or rather, when I come back from mine because he's away until next week and I'm off next week.
I very much need to be off next week. I haven't fully recovered yet. But at the very least my house is full of nice foods to have that don't require too much in the way of cookery. I did up a pork roast last night so I have leftovers from that. There's a roast chicken that's good in the fridge until Friday, which gives me time to do things with the leftover pork roast and with the duck legs and pork chops I got on sale with this month's grocery shop. But tonight, since I am exhausted (whoever was typing with me today also left me with the longer bullshit - thankfully there were no ten-minute atrocities but if I see one more placenta report this week I'm going to lose my damn mind), it will be leftover roast pork with mashed potato and an asparagus/tenderstem broccoli medley, with an appetiser of gluten-free mozzarella sticks (which, yes, still have the lactose issue but I have Lactaid so I can still have my breaded hot cheese) and possibly a salad. I did actually eat today! Okay, not lunch, but two pieces of gingerbread as breakfast went really well with my morning coffee.
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Right a Wrong
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: You, Sam and Bucky get to work repairing Sam’s family boat. Turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. But with help from you and Sam, Bucky figures some stuff out.
Word Count: 3,745
Warnings: a bit of a make-out session but not enough to be classed as smut, tfatws spoilers! 1x05
a/n: This is a direct result of watching episode 5 too many times. Spoilers below!
|| Part Two ||
Small waves lapped gently against the dock and the afternoon sun warmed your back as you worked on the old boat.
You were standing side by side with Bucky, crowbar in hand as you attempted to pry off the old metal cleats from the boats side, whilst he expertly pulled rusted pipes apart and threw them into a pile. As if on queue, one of the pipes on the opposite side of the ship burst, hissing and spurting out white clouds of steam. You marvelled at how quickly Bucky reacted, quickly crossing the deck and sealing the leak with an abrupt upward turn of the pipe with his metal arm.
"Where did you learn so much about fixing boats?" You teased, motioning to the now fixed pipe with your crowbar. Bucky dusted off his hands.
"I used to work on the docks in Brooklyn before the war." He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow and taking a seat on a crate next to you. "I picked up a few things."
He furthered his point by leaning over and pulling at the cleat you'd been grappling with. It came away from where it was attached to the boat's side with ease in Buckys iron grip. He smirked as he tossed the scrap aside and you rolled your eyes.
"Show off."
Bucky chuckled, sitting back as Sam stepped onto the boat. He was carrying a crate in one hand and shook his head when he noticed Bucky's smirk and your dismissive smile.
"Alright, you two." He placed the crate down and pulled out two green bottles, throwing one to Bucky and handing you the other. "Beer break."
Sam took a seat across from you both and you sighed as you opened your beer, raising it up to Bucky.
His annoyance was discredited by the fond smile that broke through his expression as he begrudgingly clinked his bottle with yours. You reached over and did the same with Sam as the three of you relaxed under the heat of the Louisiana sun.
"It's starting to look good," you noted as you glanced around the boat and Sam smiled.
"Yeah, it's coming together." He took a swig of his beer. "You know, Sarah and I were talking." He started and both you and Bucky glanced up at him. "And we could use the help. Don't suppose you two would consider staying around a while? Just till we get a lead on Karli."
The offer caused a noticeable smile to pull at your lips whilst Bucky shifted beside you at Sam's words. His agitation grew and he stood.
"I've got my plane to catch tomorrow, a hotel room for the night," he said, raising his bottle to his lips to hide his doubt. He really didn't have that much of a plan beyond that.
"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged.
"Well, I don't want to make it weird for your family."
"Just stay here," Sam said and you couldn't help but nod subconsciously. The truth was you really didn't really want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's and spending the day fixing up an old run-down family boat that made everything seem so normal. It gave you a sense of home, a sense of normality that you hadn't had in a long time. For a while, it even made you forget about the flag smashers, Walker, all of it. It was a much-needed break.
"The people in this town are the most welcoming in the world. They don't care if you wear small t-shirts or if you've got six toes or if your mom is your aunt-"
You laughed and Bucky barely hid a chuckle behind a huff of breath and a bright smile.
"Okay, I get it. The people are nice."
You placed your bottle aside and turned to Sam.
"You're sure Sarah doesn't mind?" you asked and Sam's smile only widened.
"She's the one that offered."
Grinning, you sat back and nodded. "Then I don't see why not."
"See?" Sam pointed to you and then Bucky. "Just stay, man."
Bucky shuffled his feet for a moment before finally answering with a begrudging, "Okay. Alright." He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the boat.
"He'll come around. He probably just wants his space." You said, picking up your beer. Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own drink.
"I hope you're right."
You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in a while. Your hands and back hurt slightly from the tiring work on the boat, but it was a dull ache compared to the constant throbbing that came after a mission. Your cheeks were warm, surely as a result of the hours spent out in the sun the day before.
Both you and Bucky stayed the night. Sarah had offered you the spare room and after a solid fifteen minutes of bickering, you finally conceded to Bucky and agreed to sleep in the guest bed. He took the couch.
The sun was just beginning to rise up over the water when you and Bucky both headed back out to the boat. Sam joined you not long after. You worked until mid-afternoon, reluctantly taking short breaks. You fell into a quick rhythm as you worked around the boat. Surprisingly, the three of you seemed to make a pretty decent team off of the battlefield.
"Hey, can you pass me a 12-300?" Sam asked from under the boat's control panel. Bucky reached into the toolbox and placed the wrench in Sam's outstretched hand. A few seconds later Sam was rolling out from under the controls and glaring disapprovingly at Bucky.
"What?"
"I asked for a 12-300," Sam stated plainly. "This is a 10-250."
"No, it's not." Bucky bit back.
"Yes, it is."
"No, it's not!"
"Hey, geniuses." You cut their bickering short as both men turned to look at you. You held up the grease-slick wrench that had been misplaced and tossed it to Sam. "You left it below deck when you were working on the engine."
Sam muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he got back to work. Silence settled over the three of you for a few minutes until Sam decided it was getting awkward.
"So, are you still planning on leaving tonight?" He asked from under the station and Bucky nodded, before realising Sam couldn't see him.
"Yeah," he said loud enough for Sam to hear. "I'll be out of your way soon."
You could hear Sam's sigh from beneath you as he clambered back to his feet and stood between you and the super-soldier leaning against the wall of the cabin.
"Well, there's no hurry."
Sam didn't say anything else as he cleaned the oil and grease from his hands with a cloth and stepped off the boat. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back behind him.
"Go," you ordered plainly and he looked up at you.
"What?"
"Go," you said again, nodding your head towards where Sam was walking away. "You both need to talk. Bucky, whatever you're not saying, it's getting to you. So go talk to him."
Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He glared at nothing in particular but his gaze softened when it found you and he muttered a quiet, 'fine.' You stepped aside as he made his way past you and stepped up onto the dock, heading after Sam.
"And don't be a smart ass!" You called after him. He didn't reply, but you could only hope that Sam and Bucky's conversation would be somewhat constructive.
"Nice shot!" You retrieved the football from the back of the goal as Cass, Sam's eldest nephew, celebrated his score.
Once Sam and Bucky had left the boat, you had headed back to the house, helping Sarah with any errands or chores, doing anything you could to help out. Sam and Bucky had been gone a little over an hour and you didn't know if that meant their talk was going very well or very not. You'd been sitting rather uselessly on the couch, waiting in anticipation, when Sam's nephews had invited you to play a game of football. And how could you refuse?
You tossed the ball back to the boys who eagerly pounced at it. You were stood in the small goal, allowing both boys to take as many shots as they wanted. AJ stepped forward and kicked the ball, groaning when it flew off to the left, a few meters away from where you were standing and missed the net entirely. He glanced down at the ground, disheartened.
“Hey, it's alright, AJ.” You smiled as you ran to grab the ball and passed it back to him. “Come on, try again.”
With encouragement from his brother, he took the shot and this time the ball planted itself in the top corner of the goal. Both boys cheered as they celebrated and you smiled. You dusted yourself off, your knees and hands covered in dust from the football game as you turned to head back inside the house. Both boys protested as you left but you promised them you'd be back. The more time you spent with AJ, Cass, Sam and Sarah, the more you didn't want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's that made you feel content. It was homely and offered a sense of normality that the last few weeks had caused you to miss.
You entered the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Sarah had told you over and over again to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, glass in hand and just basked in the feeling of not having to worry about donning a suit and risking your life at a moments notice. It was something you could get used to.
“That was adorable.”
Your head snapped up at the sound of a voice and you found Bucky joining you in the kitchen. He was smirking fondly.
“You and the boys.”
You chuckled softly and shrugged. “They're sweet kids.”
Bucky nodded, pulling a glass of his own from the shelf and filling it with water from the tap. It furthered the sense of domesticity that you were really starting to love. He took a seat at the table across from you.
“So,” you started as you placed your own glass aside. “How did it go? You and Sam.”
Bucky chuckled and you couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine, but something about the grin that lingered on his lips had you banking on the latter.
‘‘Not bad,” he admitted eventually with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked. He said if I'm going to fix anything, if I'm going to get what's left of him out of my mind.” Bucky subconsciously ran his hand across his temple. “I'm going to have to put in the work. Help the people I wronged instead of just saying sorry.”
You nodded, silently making a note to thank Sam later on. He always had a way with words, he could always get through to people. That's why he was given the shield.
“He's got a point.”
Bucky scoffed and hung his head at your words. “I should have known you'd be on his side.” There was no hostility in his words. He just sounded amused, and maybe a little tired.
“I don't think this comes down to whose side I'm on, Bucky. We both want what's best for you.” You answered honestly and Bucky glimpsed up at you. He anxiously toyed with his hands as you spoke, looking vulnerable, and slightly lost despite how hard he tried to hide it. You knew Sam had already spoken to him, but it couldn't hurt for you to say something as well.
“Look Bucky, telling yourself that you're okay and that everything that happened doesn't matter anymore because you've made 'amends' isn't going to help.”
He sighed, shuffling his feet against the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I know,” he admitted quietly.
“And I know you're probably tired of hearing this but, you're not him anymore, Bucky. You're not the winter soldier. Everything you did whilst you were him wasn't your choice. Just because you remember it doesn't mean that it was your fault. It's not your responsibility to fix it.”
Bucky sighed but didn't interrupt. He was listening. This wasn't like the therapist that he was forced to sit in front of and lie to every other week. This was someone he trusted, someone whose words he valued. Someone he honestly believed could help. He sighed but nodded to show that he was still listening.
“I think Sam’s right,” you said. “It might not be your responsibility to fix everything that went wrong but trying could help. It could give you that closure that you keep chasing after. You need to let go, Bucky. You need to forgive yourself. Maybe you just need the people who are hurting to forgive you first. Then you can learn how to do the same.”
Bucky's expression was unreadable. So many emotions flashed across his eyes you found it difficult to pinpoint just one.
“How do I start?” he asked quietly. It just seemed impossible. There were so many people he'd hurt, so many people he'd wronged. He'd left children as orphans, wives as widows and parents childless. How could he possibly start trying to fix or make all those people feel in any way better?
You smiled softly at his question. “Small. One at a time,” you said simply. “Then just keep putting one in front of the other.”
Bucky considered your words, glancing down at his hands as he thought. Before long, a small smirk pulled at his lips.
“I can't decide who'd make a better therapist. You or Sam,” he joked and you laughed, shaking your head dismissively.
“Well, Sam did council veterans so I think he takes that title.”
“I'd say it's pretty tied,” Bucky said, walking across the kitchen and standing next to you as he washed his glass, drying it off and placing it back on the shelf. The room fell into a comfortable silence.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He said after a moment, his tone sincere and his expression genuine as he looked at you. You nodded, gently placing your hand against his shoulder.
“Don't mention it. You know I'm always here if you need to talk.”
The sound of a football colliding with the wall dangerously close to the window followed by two voice's loudly shouting, 'sorry!' in unison drew a quaint laugh from you both.
“Duty calls.” You grinned, patting Bucky on the back as you passed him. “Team Wilson is missing its goalkeeper.”
Bucky chuckled, watching you go. You crossed the kitchen but his voice stopped you just as your hand reached the doors handle.
“Y/N?”
You turned back around to face him and couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more apprehensive than he had before.
“Yeah?”
He exhaled slowly, willing himself to tell you what was on his mind.
“I was just thinking things over and you know, I’m leaving today,” he hesitated slightly before glancing up at you. “And I guess I was wondering if you’d come with me?”
Your hand slipped from where it was still holding the brass handle of the door. You tilted your head as your mind fully processed his question. The shock must have been evident in your expression as Bucky rushed to continue.
“I know you're planning on staying here and I get why.” He pulled a tattered red book from his pocket which you immediately recognized as Steve’s. He began absentmindedly turning the pages, running his fingers over the paper. “I want to try and start fixing things, making things right. But truth is I have no idea where to start. I thought that maybe you could help me with that?”
“I thought you wanted your space," you admitted after a moment.
“No.” He shook his head. “That's the last thing I want.”
You thought it over, resting your back against the door. Bucky trusted you, evidently a lot more than you thought he did. Not only was he comfortable enough telling you how he felt and admitting he didn't know what to do next. But he also wanted you with him. It was clear he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm you by admitting just how badly he wanted you to go with him. But the way he eagerly watched you as he waited patiently for your answer was a dead give away.
You wanted to help Bucky, you wanted to be there for him. If that meant helping him right his wrongs and staying with him during that trying time, at least until Sam got a lead on Karli and the Flag Smashers, then you were more than happy to comply.
“You're sure about this?” you asked and Bucky pushed off the counter and crossed the room, stopping just in front of you.
“Absolutely.” His voice dropped down to a hushed whisper. “Come with me.” His hand gently caught your wrist, his fingers running up your arm. His face was inches from yours now, your breaths mingling. “Please?”
His lips pressed to yours before you could answer and you immediately kissed back. Your hand fell against his shoulder, the other laying gently against the nape of his neck. He groaned quietly against you, his arms finding your waist as he gently guided you backwards till your back met the wall. He pressed into you, his hands roaming up your body and you moaned as he deepened the kiss.
“Yes.” You answered when he pulled away slightly and he smiled against you, relieved. Neither of you said anything else as Bucky sighed and pulled you closer, his thigh slipping between your legs as he pinned you to the wall.
God, he'd wanted to do this for so long. Wanted to kiss you, to feel you against him. He wanted you. Your hand slipped into his hair and you pulled him closer, smirking against him. You'd wanted this just as bad. And you both only had your own stubbornness to blame for taking so damn long. It didn't matter now though. Not as he gently bit down on your lower lip and you slipped your hand under his shirt and felt up his chest. It all felt so natural, so right.
“Ten minutes.”
Both your eyes flew open at the all too familiar voice, Bucky pulling away from you so quickly he only barely avoided falling over a nearby chair.
“I left you two alone to talk for ten minutes,” Sam repeated from where he was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. You tried to subtly smoothen out your clothes whilst Bucky ran his hand through his tangled hair.
“We were,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “We were talking. We...talked.”
Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced, and smirked. He reclined against the counter, showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. A painfully awkward silence settled over the kitchen as Sam continued to shift his knowing stare from you to Bucky.
The humiliation of the entire situation seemed to get to Bucky first as he clasped his hands together after less than a minute.
“You know, what? I'm leaving in a few hours and I've got to pack so I better just go-” Bucky rambled as he shot you a subtle apologetic look before turning to Sam, who was nodding along in faux agreement to his pathetic attempt of an excuse.
Bucky quickly crossed the kitchen, Sam harshly patting him on the back as he passed him and left the room. Leaving just you and Sam alone. You turned to your friend and found that he was still grinning at you with that same mischievous look in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. In an attempt to act as though Sam hadn't just walked in on you and Bucky making out, you tried making normal conversation.
“Sam, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I know I said I was going to stay for a while but I guess there's been a change of plan. I-”
“I know.” He cut you off and his smile only widened when you looked at him in utter confusion. “You honestly think he would have asked you to go with him if I didn't tell him to get his shit together first?”
Your confusion slowly melted away and was replaced with a look of disbelief. You laughed despite yourself. You should have known Sam had something to do with it. ‘‘How long have you been playing cupid?” you asked jokingly and Sam chuckled.
“He needs you, Y/N. More than he wants to admit,” Sam said, tone now more serious than before. “Things will be fine here, I'll call you as soon as Torres finds us something to work with. But right now, he needs your help before that hole he's stuck in gets too deep for him to climb out of.”
You sighed as the weight of Sam's words set in. He was right, Bucky really did need you. That wasn't a responsibility you could afford to take lightly. Not that you planned to.
“Thanks, Sam,” you said genuinely and Sam smirked as he crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He could tell you needed it.
“Anytime.” He pulled away and offered you a warning glare. “But I swear, if you two making out the minute I turn my back becomes a regular thing I'm going to kick both your asses.”
“Got it,” you nodded, barely stifling a laugh.
Sam's scowl melted into a smile and he motioned towards the stairs. “Go on, get your things together. You've got a plane to catch in a few hours.”
You smiled and headed upstairs after Bucky. Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and a satisfied smile. Getting you two together had taken more work than he'd thought. But he knew it would be worth it, you both needed each other. Whether you were willing to admit it or not. And Sam was confident that if there was anyone that could help Bucky and offer him that sense of home and peace that he was so desperately craving, it was you.
tag list: @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove @doozywoozy @kealohilani-tepise
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes#tfatws spoilers#tfaws#tfatws x reader#platonic!sam x reader#sebastian stan x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fic#marvel x reader#1k
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I Trust You.
Marko (The Lost Boys) x Chiraptophobic!reader
Warnings: very vague mention of abuse, but they do not apply to the reader necessarily.
Context: The reader suffers from chiraptophobia (the fear of physical human contact/touch) and has somehow found themself in a friendship with Marko, who has somehow managed to understand how to not constantly need to touch his friend to show affection, until they take a ride on the Ferris wheel.
A/N: This was interesting to write, so j hope it's turned out alright. I guess I took a little inspiration from Death Stranding's Sam, but I thought it would be fun to do which it was. I hope it's enjoyable!😊💛
Masterlist
It took Marko weeks to finally figure out why I always shied away from his advances, why I'd stared uncomfortably at his offered hand until he withdrew it when he'd tried to shake mine in greeting, why I always wore gloves even in the suffocatingly hot summer air (despite him doing the same), and why I wouldn't go near people I don't know personally, often doing my hardest to steer clear of others in general. Rather than ask, he tried to work it out for himself, observing my behaviour and mannerisms for hours on end, though he still couldn't get what was up with my actions. He'd had to ask for some help from the others, though only David and Dwayne could offer any plausible reasons as to why: maybe I'd been abused in my past and was now averse to unfamiliar human contact, or maybe I was a germophobe. When the young vampire had asked me about both, I'd quickly denied them, thinking that it is unlikely he'd understand the real reason for my odd behaviour. It was only when he saw another person try to shake my hand that he finally noticed the emotion passing through my eyes at the prospect, at which point it all clicked into place. I was afraid of the contact.
Explaining to him what chiraptophobia is was surprisingly easy, though he was a little disappointed by this fact, being a very touch-driven person when around others, even when not in a relationship, though he did manage to take it in his stride, taking time to inform the boys of this as well, in case one of them accidentally made me uncomfortable. He'd nearly ripped Paul's head off when the taller vampire tried to wrap his arm around my shoulders, only letting up when I told him it was alright, that there was no harm done, despite how uneasy I felt afterwards. Since then, Marko has become almost like a bodyguard for me, making sure no one ever comes into my personal space, all while keeping his distance, too, respecting my limits.
We became fast friends, so much so that he eventually told me his secret, revealing his true self to me on one of the nights we chose to hang out together, alone, on the beach, a night I'd never forget. Naturally, I'd been shaken by this revelation, but soon grew used to the idea, knowing that my friend would never hurt me, not intentionally. After a few months, I finally felt comfortable enough to let him touch my gloved hand, though it still made me feel a little uneasy, the sensation of another person's fingers on mine unfamiliar and disturbing to me, but it made the vampire unbelievably happy, a bright smile plastering itself across his face for the rest of the night. He tells me he had to fight off the urge to hug me, for which I'm very grateful - touching a covered hand is very different to being enveloped in an embrace. Since then, he's taken any chance he can get to hold or touch my hand, always beaming like a beacon when he does so, my discomfort in the contact fading a little over time, though I'd soon found that it was only with the curly haired blonde that my body reacted like this, having asked Dwayne to try at some point, to see if it improved overall. Having come up negative in this test, I gave contact one last try with David, who never seems to take off his gloves, only to find that his touch made me uneasy as much as Dwayne's had, despite the two layers of cloth between our respective fingertips. The memory still sets me on edge, though I am well aware it has nothing to do with either David or Dwayne, rather my own mentality.
A shiver goes up my spine as I feel a hand slip into mine, though I quickly recognise the young vampire stepping in beside me, my stance relaxing again when my body realises whose touch it is, though my arm still remains a little tense, out of habit. Reassuringly, Marko swipes a thumb over the back of my glove, glad that I haven't rejected the contact yet, meaning I'm doing better than normal.
"Hey Stranger." He greets, grinning widely at me.
"Hey Blondie." I reply, smiling back at him in return, before casting a quick glance around for the others, "What'd you do with the other three?"
"They're around. Not sure where." The young vampire shrugs, dismissing the question quickly, "How was your day?"
"Not too bad. I didn't get much work done though, I was too preoccupied."
"Preoccupied? With what?" Marko inquires, raising an eyebrow at me in confusion, though his lips are still quirked up into an amused curve.
"That's for me to know, and for you to figure out." I chuckle, tapping the side of my nose secretively.
"Challenge accepted." He smirks, eyes lighting up at the prospect.
I smile at him as we walk, knowing he'll figure it out eventually, the answer being a little closer to home than he thinks.
"Anyway, how'd you sleep?" I question him, eyeing the Ferris wheel off to the side of the Boardwalk.
"Better than usual, actually."
"Oh yeah? How come?"
"Paul didn't snore so much for once, and David wasn't muttering in his sleep either, so it was pretty quiet, altogether." He explains, smiling when I laugh at the mention of David.
"Wait, David talks in his sleep?"
"Yeah, but you can't tell anyone! And especially don't tell him that I told you, or I'll have my ass kicked to the moon and back." Marko grins, biting his thumb as if nervous, though I'm aware that this is one of his signature mannerisms.
"That's a lot of ass-kicking. Probably quite impressive to watch. " I muse, noticing his arm lift slightly, as if to give me a playful slap on the arm, as he normally would've done with someone else, only to briefly squeeze my hand instead, shaking his head in mock exasperation. I grin at him, before turning my gaze back towards the Ferris wheel, admiring the glittering lights in the black night sky, wondering what the view is like up there.
"Wanna take a ride?" Marko interrupts my thoughts, eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Huh?" I blurt out, not having heard his question, quickly snapping my eyes back to his.
"Do you wanna go on the wheel with me?" He repeats, gesturing with a nod of the head to the great circular structure a little way away.
"I would love to, but I don't have any money on me tonight. I forgot my change." I say, somewhat remorsefully, using my free hand to pat my pockets to check for any loose coins, though I'm well aware I have none, having spent it all on food earlier in the evening.
"Who said anything about you paying? Come on, it'll be fun!" The blonde vampire promises, pulling me into the crowd, which parts around us thanks to his reputation (and choice of company), meaning no one comes into touching distance. At one point, my arm brushes past some surfer's bare bicep, which sends uncomfortable shivers and goosebumps through my body, the bitter, irrational fear that comes with it soon biting at the back of my mind, my pulse picking up slightly in response, my muscles turning rigid under my clothes. Marko notices this, briefly stopping to make sure I'm ok, before turning to memorize the surfer's face, most likely intending to take it up with him later, before we continue on, swiftly reaching the shortening queue for the Ferris wheel. Beside me, Marko fidgets and shifts in place, clearly eager to get on the rotating structure, his thumb between his teeth as usual, doe eyes focused on the ticket booth.
"Calm down, Blondie. The wheel isn't going anywhere." I laugh, watching the people around us as they amble to and fro, inching out of the way as a group of made-up girls push past, wincing as I brush against Marko, only to feel surprised when I don't feel the usual discomfort rising up in me from the contact, setting a train of thought into motion. I barely notice as the queue diminishes, only really returning to the present when we reach the booth, at which point Marko buys two tickets and leads me into one of the seats. An attendant comes over to help us secure ourselves, but Marko quickly stares him down, doing the job himself with efficiency.
Not too long after, we've reached a decent way off from the ground, our feet swinging gently in the air as we watch the Boardwalk from above, grinning and joking with each other as we take it in turns pointing out random individuals, making comments about them until the other laughs. At one point, the young vampire manages to spot David, Dwayne and Paul, making some sort of remark about how the leader's hair "looks like a pineapple from the top", before comparing the latter's to a mop. I do my best to hold back my laughter, but it only results in me nearly choking as he starts pointing out more and more likenesses between his friends and everyday objects, tears threatening to spill as I struggle to contain myself. It is only in this moment, that I realise one thing, but it takes me a couple more minutes to act on the thought that has sprung to mind.
Slowly, I pull off my left glove, teasing each finger out of their designated space with a deliberate hesitation, wriggling them a bit once I've exposed them to the air, enjoying the sensation of the light breeze around my heated digits. Marko makes a point of ignoring this, turning his gaze up to the star-strewn sky instead, only to snap his eyes back to mine when he feels a single finger touch the skin of his hand. Gingerly, I trace it over his knuckle, expecting to feel a rush of discomfort, my movements careful and calculated, knowing this is the first time in years that I've had deliberate contact with another person's skin. From my fingertip, it feels as if an electric shock has travelled through me, butterflies suddenly appearing in my stomach. Biting my lip when nothing bad happens, I continue this movement with the rest of my fingers, cautiously slipping my hand into his, enjoying the feeling of his icy cold palm against my warmed one, my eyes finding his shocked ones as our fingers intertwine. In them, I find a tonne of questioning, though he makes no move to actually ask, instead remaining quiet, carefully tightening his grip around my hand as he tries his best to feel as much of my soft skin as he can, the calluses from the handlebars of his bike rubbing slightly.
"What does this mean?" He eventually queries, elated that he can finally hold my hand without a glove being in the way.
"It means that I trust you. I've had no reaction to your contact, and I think it's because I enjoy being with you, and also because you've increased my confidence levels a lot since we first met. I've been trying to figure out why I'm ok with you touching me and no one else all day, which is why I was too preoccupied to work, but I finally worked it out." I inform him, telling him part of the truth - in reality, my trust goes a lot further than wanting a platonic friendship.
Marko is quiet for a moment, as if not quite understanding what I've told him.
"You trust me?" His voice is laced with disbelief, eyes fixing on mine again.
"I do."
Eyes widening again, he smiles, his other hand coming up, as if to try and wrap me in a hug, but the awkward positioning of the barrier, as well as the reminder of my usual discomfort, stop him in his tracks, his hand tightening around mine instead .
"I'm really glad you feel that way, (Y/n). Not many people do." He chuckles, referring to the naturally predatory air he gives off, being a vampire and all, still surprised that I let him touch me.
"I feel safe around you because I know you're my friend, but not many people can have the same claim." I point out, watching the view a little, enjoying the sight of the many glittering lights sprawled out before me, admiring the tiny orange specks of fires on the beach, as well as the rapidly moving headlights of a train passing through the outskirts of Santa Carla, most likely heading out towards the Bridge.
"Fair point." Marko agrees, still staring at our joined hands, which he continues to do until we reach the bottom of the wheel again, at which point he has to let go in order to remove the barrier from our laps. As soon as we're back on the Boardwalk, however, I slip my hand back into his, a small feeling of warmth welling up in me as I see the bright smile splitting his face, clearly happy that I've willingly made contact with him again.
A whistle behind us draws our attention, the sound belonging to a grinning Paul, who approaches us, along with David and Dwayne, who are both smiling at the sight of us, the latter more so than the former, though both seem glad to see their friend happy. As they come closer, I make eye contact with Dwayne, who lifts an eyebrow in questioning, a smirk making its way onto his face when I silently give him a nod, knowing he understands what it means.
I've fallen hard for the blonde vampire who's helped me get over my fear.
#the lost boys#joel schumacher#vampire#david(thelostboys)#paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#marko(the lost boys)#santa carla#star(the lost boys)#alex winter
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Sobering Truth
Chapter 10 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)
Catch up here: Series Masterlist
Chapter Synopsis: After the fallout of Rafael and Heather, what could this mean to Bryce and the recovering doctor?
Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)
Words: 2.1k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance
Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / hints of past violent experience and sex
Author's Notes: Almost is Never Enough by Ariana Grande and Nathan Skyes was the perfect song for this chapter, the lyrics are very fitting. Also, watch out for a cameo from a PM character 😊
Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.
Bryce found himself hunched alone in a bar stool downtown Boston. He swirled the brown liquid in his glass, brows furrowed in remembering the scene in the hospital room.
His face contorted with the pain piercing through his chest, the possibility of losing Heather once again sinking like a sword. He racked his mind for an option, but it seems all is lost in that battle.
He thought back to their last outing together, and he was so certain that something was there. So why did she choose to stay with someone else instead of being with him?
His lips formed a thin line, his hand rubbing over his face in frustration. The emotions within turbulent and unnerving. Was he just too much of a fool when he thought he had a shot with her?
This is exactly why Bryce Lahela didn't want to commit. It was far more easier for him to seek momentary connections rather than build permanent ones. He didn't want to relive the rejections-filled past from his adolescence, at the time of his parents' criminal convictions.
Yet here he was again, suffering the same consequences of wanting something permanent in his life. Something that could bring him happiness. Something better than him being alone in the middle of a crowd of drunken patrons.
He should've stayed in his own lane of hook-ups and one night stands instead of chasing for this relationship.
So the first thing he did when he realized that that door is closing, was to go back to his old stomping grounds.
But why can't he will himself to look around?
As if on queue, an olive-skinned woman slid herself beside him, her sudden presence invading his thoughts. With a half-smirk and green catty eyes, the coils of dark hair loosely wrapping her head. The mere sight of her was mesmerizing.
"I know you," she said, almost in a purr.
Bryce looked back at her, and a long-forgotten heat warmed him up. And it wasn't because of the alcohol in his system.
"I guess my reputation is my charm," he replied, leaning forward. He loosened his tie whilst sipping from his glass.
"Oh I know all about your reputation," her voice made him shiver, her fingers ever slowly trailing a path towards his arm. "You're the one with magic hands," she whispered, her brows dancing as she spoke.
This commanding woman was pushing his buttons in all the right places, her sparkly black cocktail dress that clung on her body tightly wasn't making him feel suddenly parched.
Her hand continued to venture up his arm, and eventually the side of his neck. As it followed the line of his jaw, Bryce couldn't help but lean closer.
Nothing was stopping him at the moment.
Miles away from being sober, his lips blew a short burst of air into the woman's bare neck, after which he got the chance to breathe in a whiff of her perfume.
The jasmine scent was all too familiar. It conjured the image of the woman who Bryce fled away from tonight.
Heather.
Snapping out of the trance, he took a step back. Gone was the sexual tension that floated in the air mere seconds ago. Bryce only shook his head to the woman and paid his tab, before almost sprinting out into the cold rain that continued to flood the concrete pavement.
He let the drops of water wash all over him until he was soaked. With it, the inevitable tears began to fall, which he didn't hold back. He also didn't mind how it easily reduced the numbing effect of the bottle of Jack Daniels that he just consumed.
Like a thief in the night, the woman of his dreams snatched what was left of Bryce's vulnerable heart. He knew, deep down, that it would take a long time before he can get it back.
***
"Breaking news. Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson pleads guilty as co-conspirators of the kidnapping of Senator Ed Farrugia and Edenbrook doctor Heather Song."
"This is following an intensive investigation by the joint special task force created as the public clamored to protect Massachusetts famed senator.
"We are joined today by one of the victims, Senator Ed Farrugia, after he gave his testimony today at the Boston courthouse."
The video flicked from a female news anchor to the steps of the city's courthouse, where the politician was joined by Chief DA Tanaka. Heather's hazel eyes however wasn't on the prominent people in the screen, but instead drawn to the tall figure standing beside the older man, his intimidating stature made more pronounced by the sharp gray suit that contoured just enough to please.
Bryce.
Saying his name, even in her mind, made her involuntarily shudder with regret, aware that between them was an undeniable attraction that she just couldn't shake off. Ever since her kidnapping, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what could've been. Was it just too late for them? Will it only remain a connection that can never be explored? Will it ever be something more? She knew, deep down, if she could change the world overnight, she wanted to try. If there was anything she could learn from her almost dying, it was the sobering truth that life was too short to be restrained by inaction.
But she hadn't been able to speak to him for a while now. He didn't answer his phone nor returned any of her texts or messages. She hoped to get the chance when she was scheduled for her recorded testimony. To her dismay, another ADA visited her and took her witness account.
She thought he was just busy with the case, but she sensed that he was avoiding her altogether. Her free time provided her so many hours to rack her brain for the reason why. To this day, that question was left unanswered.
Danny raised his gaze to Heather, as he felt her pulse beat faster than normal. He turned to the TV monitor in the hospital room, stifling a chuckle as he found the reason behind her palpitations.
"Let's try to do this again," Danny said, making Heather's attention swivel to him.
"Why? Something wrong?" she asked, obviously confused.
This time, Danny snickered, grabbing the remote from her and switched the channel. The gesture was enough to make her fluster as it dawned on her what the nurse was insinuating.
"I can't put your last BPM on your chart, Heather. We dont want Dr. Ramsey to not sign off on your discharge papers today. Two weeks of him pestering us is enough torture to last a lifetime," he scoffed jokingly, referencing how the senior attending relentlessly chased the hospital staff to put her case on priority.
She curtly nodded, her mentor's crass actions embarrassing her further.
"Thanks, Danny." she sheepishly smiled, hoping the two words were enough to express her appreciation of how the hospital helped her get back on her feet during the roughest period of her life yet.
Danny returned her gesture, before getting back to taking her pulse. Satisfied, he recorded it to the clipboard in his hand, as her friends thundered into the room.
Sienna, Elijah, Jackie and Aurora all stepped inside, each carrying an assortment of food items. They moved their Sunday brunch to that day in celebration of Heather's discharge. The welcome noise warmed her heart, their usual banter flowing like music to her ears.
The thundering of her deep-seated emotions momentarily toned down, as she enjoyed the company of the small family she found in Edenbrook.
Outside, the weather was warm with no clouds threatening to dampen the surroundings.
It was going to be a good day.
***
As the last of the questions were addressed and the cameras were turned away, Bryce sighed in relief.
With the news crews dispersed, Chief Tanaka left to head back to the DA's office, leaving him as second chair to wrap up all the remaining paperwork. He strutted into the courthouse, the ADA facade well in effect.
It was an understatement to say that the past few weeks were hectic.
Interviewing Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson was like being pulled into opposite poles. Their personalities were so polarizingly different that Bryce suspected that there was a more to the case than what appears.
So he advised the special task force to dig into that angle. The FBI's investigation is still ongoing, and he is betting against it finishing soon.
Today was a day of accomplishments, and Bryce's mood was better than it was ever since that night. Or so he thought.
As his mind shifted back into the present, he caught the unwelcome sight of Agent Rafael Aveiro conversing with someone in the hallways. He managed to hear a glimpse of the conversation as they got into earshot.
"You're background would be invaluable to us, Agent Rafael," the strange man in the tweed-colored jacket said.
"This is such a timely offer that I couldn't refuse. I'll let you know as soon as I wrap up my last case." Bryce heard Raf say.
"Of course. But please don't keep us in the Interpol on our toes, Agent."
"Of course, Agent Nazario."
Taken aback, he stopped, trying to understand what had just transpired. Why was Rafael taking a job with the interpol?
Once Bryce saw that the special investigator was alone, he approached him, words blazing.
"Interpol? Seriously, Raf, this soon?"
Raf turned to face him, surprised at Bryce's sudden interjection.
"I don't see the need to explain myself to you, ADA Lahela." He politely said as he begun to walk away.
"But you just got back together! Why leave for an overseas job this soon when she needs you the most?" Bryce's voice rose, echoing into the nearly full hallway. He honestly didn't mind, weeks worth of bottled up frustration threatening to surface.
A more puzzled expression filled Rafael's face, the line of interrogation making him turn around and stare back at the prosecutor.
Rafael recognized the look on Bryce's face. It was a mirror of his own haunted reflection. Of a lost love, never to return. The confusion gave way to understanding.
It made him soften his stance, and place a brotherly hand on the lawyer's shoulder.
"Look, I don't know why you think that, but Heather and I..." he paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to bury the painful memory of their goodbye into the back of his mind. "We broke up. The same night that she was admitted to Edenbrook after her kidnapping, we talked and agreed to go our separate ways."
Bryce couldn't believe what he was hearing, his knees weakening with the revelation. Amber eyes widened in shock and feeling like an idiot at the same time.
He smiled despite himself, the nightmares of his imaginary rejection transformed into a wonderful dream. The door that he thought was closed is now unlocking, and he was determined to blow it wide open.
With a hasty thank you and goodbye to Raf, he turned the soles of his leather shoes and raced to the door of the courthouse.
Bryce didn't dare waste another minute to look back.
Tags: @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations
#open heart#rafael aveiro#bryce lahela#open heart fanfiction#open heart fic#rafael aveiro x mc#bryce lahela x mc#choices fic writers creations#choices fanfiction#open heart 2#choices#pixelberry#fics of the week
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Sands of Time: Part Three
Blossomed Feelings
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem!OC
Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, mutual pining, all the fluff
A/N: as always, reblogs are super appreciated!
Like every other day when they came in, she was on her break. Today, she was perched in a window in the children's area with her legs drawn up loosely. There was a book in her hand, presumably the same one from a couple of days ago. Hidden safely beneath the tent of her knees was a steaming mug.
Jade's ears perked, her attention momentarily divided when she heard Bokuto, obnoxious as ever, greet her coworkers across the building. She was sure he included an exaggerated wave as well. Her advanced hearing, one of the few bonuses of being Fae, even allowed her to hear Daichi silence Bokuto with a low warning.
"There's a big enough table over there that's free." He was telling the group. She knew exactly which table he was referring to as she'd made sure it was clear before she went on break twenty minutes ago.
With a sigh, she closed her book and stood gingerly so as not to disturb her drink. The study group was her queue that her break was over soon. Still, finishing the chapter sounded real nice.
Nonetheless Jade found herself smiling as she glided through the aisles that were as familiar to her now as her own apartment. Her thoughts were with the oddball company of heroes and heroines from her book. Even preoccupied she nodded politely at the group of boys taking their places at the table.
"Fancy seeing you here again."
"Good afternoon to you too, Kuroo," she replied without stopping. "You all know where to find me if you need help with anything."
Yaku snickered and jabbed his elbow into Kuroo's ribs. "She didn't even bother to look at you."
"Her break's about over," Akaashi defended. "Iwaizumi messaged me a few moments ago, he and Oikawa won't be joining us tonight."
"Good, they can keep that stomach bug away from us then," Daichi grumbled.
"Please, they're probably having their own fun." Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"I wouldn't put it past them," Akaashi murmured. He turned to Bokuto and gave him a warning glare. "Make sure you actually work on your Maths today. You nearly failed your last test."
For well over an hour Kuroo was able to focus on his studying despite his loudmouth of a friend sitting across from him. Bokuto came along more for the social aspect than anything else. Not that any of them really cared the way Akaashi did, study group was the only chance they had during the week to get together anyway.
With a small groan Kuroo stood. He needed a break to stretch his legs. He wandered the shelves aimlessly, stopping on occasion to read a synopsis or two before continuing on. He really didn't have much free time at the moment, what with midterms starting to ramp up. Still, Kuroo made a mental note of books to read once the workload began to die down.
"-depends on what you're interested in, honestly." He overheard Jade saying. "Let's start off with something simple to help narrow it down. Are you looking for a stand alone story or a series?"
Kuroo, for reasons unknown even to himself, hid two aisles over and listened in on the exchange. Since starting at the nearby university last year he'd learned quickly that Jade was good at her job. Great even. Any time he'd needed help with research or simply pointed in the right direction, she'd been prompt with answers. Sometimes she even went above the call to suggest further material that always seemed to have more information than he'd ever need.
Still it amazed him that in a matter of a few questions Jade was excitedly showing the younger guest a section that would entertain her. "I'm a little older than the intended audience but this series here in incredible. But if you're interested in something a little more magickal - and I don't mean witches and wizards - then I suggest this series just here."
With a faint smile Kuroo turned from the duo to head back to his studying. "Fuck," he hissed when he ran into and nearly knocked over Yaku. "Creepy little shit. What are you doing?"
Yaku glared up at his taller friend with a wicked grin. "If I'm creepy what do you call what you were just doing?" He countered. A quick peek around Kuroo gave Yaku the answer he needed. "Admiring the view?"
Kuroo looked over his shoulder and saw the girl from before already devouring the suggested book. Jade was nowhere to be seen. "She's a bit young for me, don't you think?"
Yaku rolled his eyes. Sometimes he really wondered if Kuroo was, in fact, a total moron. Kuroo's infatuation with the Human girl had become more and more evident over the last year. There were some not so obvious clues, like how he just happened to run into her when he was wandering around, or how he had started zoning out in classes. Then there was the blindingly obvious: watching her like creep from the other aisle while she helped other guests, for example. "Come back to the table," he finally sighed. "I need help with the Biology assignment."
"My time to shine," Kuroo smirked.
"Don't go getting an ego."
"I would never."
Both girls were seemingly non the wiser to what had transpired only two aisles away.
Daichi, Akaashi and Yaku continued to study dutifully while Bokuto successfully managed to distract Kuroo. Jade had only one other guest after the younger girl had left with two new books in hand.
Even with that one person closing time seemed to come a little too soon for Jade. They always did on days the study group came in. She enjoyed listening to their friendly banter and teasing, they were good company and often pulled her into their conversations on slower nights.
Tonight was no different than any other night the group came in. It was closing time and they were still there, sitting at the same table they'd procured from the moment they walked in hours before. However, studying had been thrown out the window some time ago she recalled as she made her way over. Currently they were chatting, all but Bokuto and Yaku, who had fallen asleep.
Propping a hand on the back of Akaashi's chair she sighed, forcing disappointment into her words. "Time for me to lock up guys."
"Is it that time already?" Daichi glanced at his phone before sighing himself and rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry to be a bother again, Jade."
"I tell you every time: you aren't a bother, Daichi," Jade shrugged. "Libraries have always been around for a reason. Apparently a good location for a power nap is one of them." She roused Yaku gently, giving him a warm smile when he blinked up at her. "Closing time sleepy head."
"We'll get out of your hair as soon as we wake Bokuto," Akaashi assured her.
"Take your time, I've got some cleaning to finish up anyway."
Jade turned away but not before catching the mischievous grin on Kuroo's face. Just as she expected, the indistinguishable thud of a dropped stack of books met her ears. "Wake up!"
"Bro!" Bokuto whined. Jade's nose wrinkled at the shout. No matter how much she heard it she would never get used to that term.
"Time to go, Bokuto," Kuroo said without a hint of apology in his voice.
Kuroo waited by the checkout counter for Jade to come out of the back office. Over the past year it had become a sort of habit for him to wait for her while she clocked out and locked the building up for the night. In more than one hundred attempts she had yet to agree to, at the very least, allowing him to walk her to the bus stop. Maybe tonight would be different? There was only one way to know for sure.
"Ready to go, Kuroo?"
"Only if you are!" He replied. A triumphant smile adorned his face when a soft chuckle met his ears. Kuroo clasped his hands, fingers knit together tightly before asking, "Would you like some company on your way home tonight?"
It came as no surprise to Kuroo that she didn't reply right away. She emerged from the back office with the satisfied smile that came from finally being off the clock. "Thank you, but I'll be okay on my own tonight."
Kuroo cocked his head to the side for a moment before nodding. "One of these days you'll say yes."
"You're so sure of yourself, Kuroo." She snickered and ducked her head to hunt for her keys in her bag. "I appreciate the offer as always."
They left the building in comfortable silence. Jade tugged at the building doors, testing the locks before heaving a content sigh. "I saw you looking at some books early," she mentioned casually when they reached the sidewalk. "I can put them on hold for you. If you want, that is."
"Not with midterms in a couple weeks." Kuroo shook his head but smiled down at Jade. "That's very kind of you though."
Jade smirked. "I try my best."
Kuroo fought the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders. He didn't know it, but she caught the twitch in his fingers. "Get home safe, okay Jade?"
"Don't worry, you'll see me all safe and in one piece on Friday, Kuroo." Jade's smile, highlighted by nearby street lights, brought an unwelcomed heat crawling up his neck.
"Right, well, good night, Jade." He retreated into the shadows quickly before she could see the blush spreading up across his cheeks.
"May sleep find you easily tonight, Kuroo." Jade dipped her head slightly before she herself hurried off in the direction of her bus stop.
Kuroo stared after her until she was out of sight before he sighed and began his journey home. When he stepped into his dorm room he wasn't surprised to see Kenma poking feverishly at the buttons of his video game. They had intrigued him from the moment he'd laid eyes on them.
Kenma's elf ears were poking through his hair, the only sign that he was no longer holding his Humanoid form. Kuroo received a murmured greeting from his long time friend as he removed his shoes.
"You missed out," he told Kenma.
"Unlikely."
Kuroo chuckled at that as he made his way into their shared room to change. As he did, he shifted with a sigh of satisfaction. It was only in their shared dorm room or when they were home visiting their folks that he and Kenma could safely shift back to their Fae forms.
"The Solstice Festival is coming up," Kuroo reminded his friend.
"Oh." Came the reply. Kenma's attention was barely pulled from his video game. Kuroo said no more on the subject, knowing full well that when the time came Kenma would leave the Human entertainment behind and return home for the Festival.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jade's heart was racing and not only because she was running. Had it been a trick of the light or had he been blushing just before she left? She supposed either were possible, even with the street lights the lighting wasn't favorable, and she was nearly a foot shorter than him so the angle was weird too. She tried not to dwell on it too much.
She didn't want to get too close to him this time around. She brushed off his advances, his attempts at getting closer, as best as she could but her job didn't allow for blatant ignoring of guests, so it was difficult. But she didn't want her heart broken. Not again.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she stood beneath the light of the bus stop. She dried them before they could fall; before they could be seen. In all her years on Earth, why was it a Human that had to come along and capture her heart?
When the bus arrived it only had a handful of occupants. Given the time of night this was to be expected and allowed Jade her pick of the crop as far as where to sit for her journey home. She hugged her knees tight to her chest when she sat, her temple leaning against the cool glass of the window at her side. Normally she would read, but she knew if she opened her book the pages would remain unturned, for try as she might, her mind raced with memories of the past. Of the wild laugh that sent the butterflies in her stomach soaring. That almost there smile that had found her time and time again over the centuries.
As much as she wanted to, Jade suppressed the desire to shift back into her Fae form as soon as her door was locked behind her. Showers were much easier without the wings getting in the way. So it wasn't until she stepped from her bathroom half an hour later that she released the invisible thread of thought that kept her Humanoid form in place.
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I think I got it
I wanted to post the graphic novel more often, and I also wanted to do a sort of recap, as well as make it easier to skip pages. So basically, I wanted to make a lot of changes to my graphic novel blog.
I think what I'm going to start doing is, posting the frame of the week Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and on Fridays, also start posting a recap frame. I think I'll post the recaps two weeks in a row. Or........I dunno, does a recap make any sense? Like, when I'm a hundred frames in and I'm posting like, frames 60, 61, and 62? Or, idk if the recaps get bigger? We go up to nine frames?
What if, instead of sweating a recap, I just start adding a table of contents in the post? I was thinking, since following a link in the app opens a new page, so you either have to backspace out of all the pages you open, or entirely close the app, if you can take fewer clicks to get back to your spot? Or maybe each new frame only has a link to the nearest fifth integer. Hmmmmm........... The other option is to just leave every ten pages linked in the "home page"?
The other option is, here on Tumblr, you're supposed to be able to click through the frames. I can always link to a website or more traditional blog if a person wants a proper table of contents to click through. That way I can have a page or a tab--although for now, a pinned post works pretty well. And then here on Tumblr, I could cycle in older frames. I guess I don't really have enough material yet to hook anyone, let alone be worrying about someone having to dig for where they left off.
I really ought to just sit down and get the outline and the scraps of writing organized............but to submit it to an agent, they usually want about twenty pages of art....... for me, that's about sixty frames. I think even if I really buckled down to where, while I'm not working, I'm coloring a frame a day--well, first, I don't think I can work from home on this. While we're having issues with smoking neighbor/s, I'm struggling with a set of health issues that I thought were already settled.
It's insane.
I'm using my inhaler no less than once a day--I get this tickle sometimes or a...... like, convulsion?? In my trachea? Whatever it feels like, I have to lunge after my inhaler. I have a really awful headache no less than once a week, but up to three times a week. And lately, it's getting to the point where I'll get out of bed after seven or eight hours of sleep and I'm so tired, I can't keep my head up or focus on anything. Sometimes, I think, oh, if I have some allergy medicine, something to drink, and a little bit of food, I'll feel better. I'll keep myself up for an hour, sometimes two--honestly, enough time to try to be awake till my partner starts work, but most of these times, I have to go back to sleep. I do usually sleep for an hour to hour and a half or so. Sometimes it helps, and I feel great and get on with my day. Sometimes, it doesn't help and I have to do my best to get on with my day anyway.
Lately, I've been working on the graphic novel between errands and escaping the poison apartment. I'm going to put the cats in the bathroom tonight, probably with a blanket in the tub, and open all the windows to the best of my abilities. I'll see if that helps air out the apartment 🙄
I'm trying to get ahead a bit on my penciling work, as well as correct the color palettes on these filled frames and shade them so they're ready to queue. I'm trying to catch up and keep up, plus absolutely stuff my queue. I would still love to get my queue to a point where I'd feel comfortable releasing two new frames each week. I'd really love to get to 150 frames by the end of the year. I'd probably have to put aside pretty much all of my side projects. I also wouldn't have time to write my outline if I wanted to get an agent.
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Rio & Buster
Rio: Didn't say you had a girlfriend Rio: but you can tell her she's hitting me up with the back off too late and under fucked up misunderstanding, like 😂 Buster: Didn't say it 'cause I don't Buster: If some girl wishes that's her problem Buster: And yours now like 😂 Rio: It ain't funny, blowing up my phone making me look suspect, like Rio: anyway, Nance gave me the lowdown already so I know she's a cunt so I don't have to hold back Buster: Who's laughing? Buster: Send her my way if she's that desperate Buster: The lads are boring like Rio: Seriously? Rio: No I will Rio: if you're gonna do your own like that you can sort it yourself, not her pimp Rio: not* Buster: Whatever Rio: It so isn't but that's on you Rio: Are you lot out tonight then? Buster: Course Buster: You think I'm waiting at home for you, babe? Rio: Har dee har Rio: sounds like you had a cosy night in in mind tbf Rio: where you going then, wanna meet up? Buster: Not got the light or kettle on like Buster: Sick of the lad already? Rio: Yeah, what you had in mind Rio: Nah, but 2 ain't a party Rio: and I'm going home tomorrow so Buster: Wanna see if he can hang Buster: Fair Buster: I'll bring the party to you then, babe Rio: Pretty much Rio: You're feeling chipper today Buster: I'll insult you when I get there if you really want Rio: Not my kink Rio: would get us back to the status quo though Buster: Just buzzing 'cause you're off home and outta my way like Buster: Can't blame me Rio: I bet Buster: Not looking forward to kicking it in your own ends any more or what? Buster: I know you'll miss me but come on Rio: Nah but it ain't gonna be all fun and games when I get back is it Rio: Shit to sort Rio: but gotta be done Rio: and you wish Rio: I got reason to come back and annoy you some more now Buster: You're not gonna get grounded Buster: Don't worry about it Buster: And I know, kid Buster: Always making it obvious, Cavante Rio: Don't be daft Rio: I've gotta look out for Nance Rio: avoid another ex Rio: all that drama Rio: You're OBVIOUSLY deranged, McKenna Buster: You're used to all that shit many times over Buster: You got this, ma Rio: Shut up! 😂 Rio: Doesn't mean I don't get tired of it Buster: It ain't my fault you've had more exes than I've had fam dinners Buster: Not even starting on family bullshit of yours Buster: Well I'll sort you a decent line when I get there, put a pep back in your step, yeah? Rio: Yeah it is Rio: No show, you are Rio: and bet you've had more, just 'cos you ain't claiming 'em Rio: Go for it Buster: Fuck off I'm being nice here Buster: Trying to give you a proper going away and you're trying to fight me Rio: 🤷 Rio: Soz Rio: Only way I know how, clearly, all those exes, like Buster: What's wrong, babe? I know you ain't gonna miss me that bad so what is it? Rio: You shouldn't fuck Chloe Rio: Idk, you shouldn't have put that in my head Buster: I haven't Buster: She's not my type. I know what you reckon but I do have some standards Rio: Alright, good Rio: Too many lines already, I'm paranoid Rio: she's bad news Buster: Come get some fresh air with me then Buster: Plenty of people say that about me, like. Not that I'm trying to make a connection to her. Fuck that Rio: Might help Rio: Thought you were with your boys though Rio: Yeah but, at least you're upfront about what you are, good or bad Rio: 🐍 Buster: They'll be fine if I don't hold their hands through every song, babe Buster: She's really got to you, yeah? Rio: I'm just being dramatic, too many strangers here Rio: but she did a number on Nancy, that I know for facts, stand by the bad vibes even if I could relax on it rn Buster: Where are you, specifics. I'm come and get you if you ain't coming out Buster: Find those cunts later Rio: Idk, ages away from yours Rio: we're meant to be but the pre-party still going strong Rio: I'll meet you somewhere? Buster: Keep your phone on, I'll be that stalker and work out where you are Buster: Meet you near Rio: Not just a pretty face, ladies and gents Rio: It's alright, just pick a club, no need to ruin the night Buster: At least you're finally admitting how hot I am Rio: 🙄 Really needing the ego boost, yeah? Sure 👌😂 Buster: Find you in The Grand, yeah? Rio: Got it Buster: Half an hour max Rio: Cool, I'm nearer than you so I'll see you in there Rio: *He'd obviously been offended she wanted to leave the party and get a headstart on him on the town, but it was way too soon to show it (thank fuck) and still save face, so she got out without much pouting and whining. Only needed to take one bus, turns out she was about five minutes down the road from Clapham, tops; good to know. Maybe that was why she was feeling so out of it? Not knowing where she was, and who with? Been in that scenario before though and she'd not got this rattled so- blatant bullshit. Rio didn't plan on admitting it to him, but it had way more to do with Buster McKenna than was healthy. Head fuck. This is why they avoided each other, and had for a while now. It weren't no good trying to just be nice to each other, always went too far. And arguing and being cunts didn't exactly cool the energy between 'em either. No, ignoring each other's existence was key. And yet here she was, going out to party with him. Well fucking done, girl. She rolled her eyes at herself, jogging up and down on the spot impatiently, near enough to the front of the club's queue now she needed to remember to look her hottest so they'd let her in faster. And result. She was in, no coat to put up, so she was away. Barstool, 'round of vodka shots, sorted. Toes tapping, faster than the beat of this shit tune. It was pretty early still, the club only now filling up. Shouldn't have an issue finding her. Not that it was a good idea but finish what they'd started now, like.* Buster: *The lads had been chilling at his since the afternoon doing fuck all of much but getting on his nerves, and when Barnaby suggested getting the drinks in and making something of the night he wasn't even the most relieved of the lot of them, like, so face saved there. Nice one, lad. It was the first decent favor any of them had done him in Christ knows how long, not that he was letting it show. Not a fucking amateur at that either, cheers. There was a girl he'd swiped that was why he was keen to be off. No other reason that they'd had to be privy to. James had been chatting about his cousin since he got with her and Buster wasn't trying to add to that conversation. They didn't know what they were fucking saying anyway. Silly pricks. Let them wonder and speculate over his antics tonight with the Tinder blonde, or any other, they loved it. He had his own mind full of bullshit that he personally didn't love. Worry was a new emotion regarding Rio, one that he didn't feel confident over dealing with, and a lack of confidence was even newer territory than giving a shit about Cavante's emotions. Or so he told himself before he racked up the lines to turn all that off for a while. Worked out proper well for him that had, here he was off and running to cheer her up or what the fuck ever. What was his fucking goal meant to be? Soft cunt. Gonna send her goodnight texts later or what, like? Stupid. Get real all he was gonna do was buy her some watered down drinks for as long as she let him. Big fucking deal and no great help. Still, as soon as he was in he took the stool next to her and did exactly that, ordering more of what she already had.* Rio: *And just like that, he was there by her side. As if this was all standard and they did it all the time. This week maybe but neither of them should get too fucking cosy with the idea, like. She took her share of the drinks without protest, even though she had nothing but empties to offer by the time he arrived. * Next round, like. *She shrugged, spinning the nearest shot glass aimlessly, avoiding eye contact She then spun herself to face the dance floor, like she was surveying the talent from her perch on high. This was fucking ridiculous. He'd be saying as much if she didn't act fast. Jumping up, the tunes still not there but she'd have to make do. As she weaved her way through the crowds, she took a second to break the rules and make eye contact, looking back at him and motioning with a question of 'are you coming?' hanging in the air.* Buster: *He wasn't listening to her 'cause that's how focused he had to be on not staring at her. She looked so fucking good. He'd said as much the other day, believing it when he did, but this was different. He felt it bones deep and more crucially, didn't know how not to show he was being affected. Fuck's sake. No more coke for him until he got his shit together like. Sort your head out, you twat. He shook it, playing as if he was shrugging off her offer to pay 'cause it was better she reckoned he was trying to buy her off again than- What? For the second time tonight he was already asking himself what the fuck he was trying to achieve. Shit. At least before he could chat any more nonsense to himself, or her, Rio was up and away. Not far enough given how easy dancing made it to be close, like, but a reprieve he could count in seconds. Breaths to take. Buster should've known in the next minute she'd steal it all off him with a look. Course. It was an old game. And he'd never once played by the rules, had he? It was too late to start now. He wasn't no choir boy and she was leaving in the morning she'd said. Fuck it. Not a fucking amateur, remember? He'd call her bluff and cheer her up before this shit tune was done. It was just dancing, who the hell was he if he couldn't handle that, yeah? Rio: *Again, screaming internally, asking what the fuck she thought she was doing and why the hell she was doint it; All the while making no effort to slow down, never mind stop. So glad he couldn't read her as well as he claimed, the fucking laugh he'd have about how much she was silently protesting (much too much for it to be anything but mortifying; and very bloody telling). Still, she knew the feeling of eyes lingering on her body well enough by now to know that's what was happening, what he was doing, despite himself. Despite herself, and what a good, sensible girl should do, she smirked, smug satisfaction at taking the lead in both senses. Fuck it, she could say it was the coke making her act up. If he was feeling brave enough in his own good behaviour to question it after. Not likely. So why not? She wanted this right now, so she was going for it. Whatever 'it' was. Stop thinking. Let your body takeover completely. With that in mind, or out of it, she began to move, getting closer to him than was necessary, routine full of 'almost' contact, designed to tease.* Buster: *The song was still shit but he wasn't listening to it either now. Couldn't hear anything but the sound of two heartbeats, his thumping enough to be shaming if he gave a fuck about anything other than getting closer than she already was to him, and hers once he was, echoing such a similar beat. There was smugness in having her rhythm there alongside the intrusion of his, literally hammering away at her pretense of utter control too. Loud and clear for him, drowning out everything that had been said before. Bullshit. Necessary but still ridiculous to look back on from where they were now. Nice try, Cavante, 'cause guess what, I know you are, babe. He wore a smirk to match hers, letting his 'routine' in turn spell out that the teasing shit had gone on long enough, while the hand which had settled on her waist as he moved pulled her body into his. He'd snorted his fair share of lines if he needed something to blame it on other than just being fucking over it and wanting to play a new game and it was unlikely she was gonna challenge him at this point. Hardly blameless herself, yeah? Whatever.* Rio: *She looks down at where his hand has ended up, eyes traveling back up to meet his, slowly, appreciating his body as she did so, letting him know she knew it was anything but a happy accident, but that she wasn't going to say anything either way. Hardly could now, could she? A silent deal being made on the floor tonight. 'This stays between us.' It didn't mean anything, like. Just sexual attraction, however fucked. She wouldn't hold it against his character if he didn't against hers. What happened in the club, like. Such a fucking cliche, Christ; but she felt like being one just this once if it felt this good. She had her back towards him now, winding up and down, hips clashing, making her ache. Before Rio could stop herself (a reoccurring theme of her time with him, it seemed), she had placed her hands over his, still on her waist, and was moving them down, to where she wanted them right now. Fuck. He was definitely going to pull away now, probably have some choice words for how sick and creepy and wrong she was and she didn't have a leg to stand on, no case to fight. Before he could, thinking fast (hopefully faster than he could), she pulls gently on his neck, so she can reach his ear to shout into it, shit tunes always being played too loud.* You promised me a line. Buster: *He shouldn't be this turned on by a few dance moves and unwavering eye contact but he is and there was no way she couldn't know, bodies pressed against each other as tightly as they were. Fucking hell. Yeah, he could lie to himself that it was the fault of the rich, white girls he usually approached not knowing how to dance without doing shit imitations of their current favorite pop icon or being too eager to check him out (sizing him up the same as he did them) to hold his gaze, but that's all it'd be, more bullshit when he'd already said no more. It was too fucking obvious what this was about and what he wanted. And every movement of hers was as telling. None more so than when she stopped herself, 'cause it was forced in a way that none of their other actions had been, thought out instead of fluid. Of course, immediately after came a brief moment when he reckoned she was gonna nibble on his earlobe or something. No going back then, like, but he should've realised the headfuck was gonna come from a more familiar (as far as Rio Cavante was concerned) direction. Christ. When was the last time another girl had left him wanting more, this much and this soon? Buster couldn't remember. Couldn't think. State of him. At least her pulling away to speak let him breathe. He smirked again, faking regaining more composure than he had around her as standard, never mind on a night like this. Nodding his head in the direction of the toilets briefly, he leaned in to reply. * Come on, let's get you sorted. Rio: *She took him by the hand, pulling him through the crowd with an impatience they could both pretend was about coke. Yeah, right. Neither of 'em was fooled or in the mood for fooling now. Her mind had been fully made up for her when his reaction of outrage, disgust, and horror hadn't come; but the opposite had, the hardness she felt tight against her mirroring the ache she felt, less obvious outwardly but, was it though? He knew. She knew he knew so time to do something about it, boy! Now or never, like. Door swinging behind 'em, pulling him into the first free cubicle, reaching behind his frame to lock up, purposely trailing her hand against his exposed forearm, outstretched fingers softly trailing along the veins there, taut between ample muscle and goosebumped skin. Fucking hell. It wasn't her fault he was so god damn attractive. Regret it in the morning. She'd be long gone by then. Breaking eye contact away from where it had fallen below the belt (oops), she grinned, green meeting blue, breathing as laboured as heart.* Go on then... Buster: *The last thing he should have done was followed her into a space where every time his body shifted (however fucking subtly. Or not) it brushed somehow against hers, bringing them back to teasing each other, 'cause unless he pushed her fully against the cubicle wall there was no way to create the blatant friction they both craved, and he wasn't about to do that. Not yet. If she wanted coke, she was gonna have it. Simple as. Just as well that act was though, distracted as he'd become, like. If Buster let himself look back on any of tonight (not wise but nevertheless still likely) he'd pat himself on the back for once again not being a fucking amateur, fine chopping the lines on his coffee table before he came out so all that was left was to unwrap that shit, lay hers out and roll up a note. He'd been on autopilot getting the drugs from his pocket, breathing ragged as hers, the feeling of her stare (and where it was purposefully aimed) leaving him incapable of coherent thought about anything else. Fuck. He wanted her so bad. His own eyes fixed on the locked door, checking and rechecking, focused solely on trying to do that until the memory of her touching his arm resurfaced and then all he could think of was the idea that formed. He smirked for...what a third time? ... Christ knows, before laying her coke out on another, higher patch of exposed skin, eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking Rio how badly she wanted her share now.* Rio: *And there it was. Another silent challenge, a dare. No need for fucking words creating any unwanted space between them, made her wonder why they'd ever bothered when this was so, SO much better. No comparison. Of course, the answer was they bothered so they didn't end up here but she wasn't listening to sense tonight, fuck off. Right now, she WANTED to be here, nowhere else she'd rather, frankly. Fret over it later, like. Or not. It felt TOO damn right to call it wrong. So she wouldn't. And he wouldn't. And no one else need ever know. She wants to hesitate, knows she should. Eyebrows raising to make some display of being all 'really?', like she's so scandalized or not into it, only doing it 'cos she couldn't refuse a dare, could she? But Rio Cavante didn't even flinch, crashing into him full force, pushing him against the door, arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself, steady them both. This close, the heat of him unbearably sexy, his body was so toned and fucking perfect, Christ! She felt dizzy with it, sweat was slicking the white powder to his naked skin, collar bone a natural shelf to hold it. The temptation to lick it off him like salt for a tequila shot was almost too much but she didn't want to be accused of wasting the coke, so she pressed her nose into him, snorting it with ease, shuddering more from the sensation of being this close than anything else, tipping her head back in pleasure, hoping he didn't hear the small moan than found its way out.* Fuck! *Snapping her head back, rubbing her nose with a sniff, damn. Okay. She obviously had to one-up him. What else was a girl to do, yeah? She moved away, to the bag still laid out on the top of the loo, grabbing it 'fore he had a chance to stop her or do anything else to drive her crazy. Shit, she had to take back some control, like! She smirked back at him, the solution to her problem of how to best Buster McKenna becoming obvious as she looked down. Racking it up on her ample cleavage, as if to say, triple dog dare you, McKenna* Buster: *There was half a second as his shoulder blades hit the door, rattling the hinges with the force of their bodies colliding again, closer than they'd been yet somehow but still, at the same time - impossibly- not enough, that he wanted to tell her 'fuck the coke' or something like it. Swore he could almost feel the words tumbling out, begging practically for her to just fucking kiss him instead. But he didn't. Or make a move to himself either. As soon as he heard her moan he knew why, even though they'd waited years and his entire body was insisting that he couldn't any more, refusing in the form of his own shudders as he stood there, knees weak from barely any contact. Fuck's sake. There was so much promise in that sound that Buster grinned, holding her gaze with baited breath until she gave his eyes no choice but to travel with her, settling exactly where she planned for them to. * Oh fuck. *If she said anything about him stealing the words out of her mouth later (not that they could chat about any of this casually) he'd deny it, not realising an echo had escaped from him as he launched himself towards her, lifting her slightly so she rose to meet his bowed head easily. Finally Rio's back landed hard (thankfully against wood same as his had rather than cold, dirty porcelain) with force enough that she'd feel it tomorrow. He wanted that more than anything, even as his line disappeared, snorted all too soon. Fuck her trying to pretend she didn't remember, if her mind pulled that shit her body would call her a liar. He'd made sure of that, like. There was always more he could do though, and he didn't hesitate to put his mouth on the skin she'd already offered him, kisses desperately hard and bruising as his hands trailed lightly down her body, skimming each curve more brazenly than he'd ever looked her up and down before. Christ that seemed like a lifetime ago, her beckoning him onto the dance floor. Not that it mattered. Too much had happened to go back now and there was well more than he needed to happen still.* Rio: *Her cries, a mixture of pleasure and pain as she was unceremoniously slammed into the wall, caught in her throat. Like she couldn't express how much she wanted this, NEEDED this. And she couldn't. No moaning or dirty talk was going to cut it but she could but try. Knowing he knew regardless, and that he felt it too, only amped it up further.* You want me so bad, huh?* Stating the obvious for her own satisfaction, no question mark needed. Muffled curses at him; warning him if he dared stop, to do more, worse, faster, harder, NOW; acting as their version of pillow talk. Pulling his hair, novelty of being above him in the literal. Rio found purchase, sitting atop the toilet, kicking the seat down so he could kneel as she spread her legs for him, pushing his head down, showing him where she needed him.* Please, Buster, please... *She didn't care that this was a club bathroom, that people could definitely hear them, that they'd be hearing a lot more soon if she had anything to do with it. That he was her fucking cousin. Fuck. She just did not care about anything but having him touch her, fuck her. But before he could, there was a monstrous bang on the door that rattled the hinges harder than they had only a few minutes previous.* Shit! Legs clamping shut, jumping down from the seat, pocketing the drugs in her bra without hesitation, she clambered over him, pushing him back, so he was sat down.* I got this, yeah? Worry about yourself. Catch you later... *Rio murmured, squeezing his hand in the hope he'd fucking listen to her, not trusting a coked out McKenna to deal with what was clearly a bouncer and not just a punter desperate for a piss, like. She squeezed out of the smallest possible gap in the door, shutting it behind her, so Buster wasn't spotted.* Buster: *Fuck me. *Holy shit, every word out of her mouth was fucking him up but it was the begging that REALLY sent him over and made him use a phrase that was ridiculously literal. He couldn't help it, knowing that she wanted him bad enough to say that shit out loud what he hadn't when the coke first came out, made more than his knees go weak. He was about to insist that she told him what she wanted again, just to hear it, biting his lip to prevent a moan from coming out before the sentence did when something makes everything stop. It turned his wants back to fantasy, yet again becoming a scenario that wouldn't happen. 'Cause he isn't stupid. As much as many other parts of him were desperate to ignore the pounding on the door, his head, coked out as it is, still knows that they can't. The hired muscle out there wouldn't let them. Shit. It was somehow the unrealest part of this, fucked up as that sounded even to no other ears but his own, that this was how the night was going to end, not how he'd finally let himself want it to. They'd both given in, fully, and there was no pretending at this point (whatever he might convince himself of later, dismissing the night as a weird headfuck etc etc) the drugs were why he wanted her so badly. And worse, all they were now were the reason why he couldn't have her. Fuck's sake. Buster hadn't felt a surge of anger overwhelm him this utterly -suddenly too- since his sister left. Wherever he looked was flooded red, and for Rio's frantic movement, the only thing he managed to do was bite his tongue and clench his fists. Until she'd gone and then he stood up, immediately pacing (an agitated cokehead cliche) the cubicle transformed into a cage he didn't dare leave in this state. Just as well 'cause the next second had him striking out, kicking out hard at the space where their bodies had been, with as much power as he felt had been robbed from him. The wood protested one last time, drowning every sound in his head out with the crash, thank fuck. The cubicle didn't fall to pieces, of fucking course, 'cause it was another thing he needed to happen and he sank back onto the toilet seat, taking shallow breaths.*
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