#let me go be productive and do something like lay in bed playing Animal Crossing Pocket Camp for 2 hours til I pass out

[coqxettee]

Coquette night routine:

My current Spring night routine: 🌸🍵🌙

Once I get in from being out for the day/doing work I usually get changed into some comfy clothes, and light a candle for a relaxing evening ahead. The sky is still so light outside, (I can’t wait for summer) so I have a lovely evening ahead of me ♡

I tidy my room and make sure everything is clean and put away. I usually open my bedroom window too, to air it (if I haven’t done so already in the day) and to get some of the Spring fresh air before I settle down for the evening. I spray my room with a floral room spritz too ♡

I usually read or journal on my bed until I’m called for dinner. I love reading fairytales in late spring and anything light-hearted/romantic ♡

For dinner I have been having light meals. We’re coming up to summer and the weather has been rather warm recently so something light is perfect. Either soup or salad, and usually before or after dinner I have some cold fruit too ♡

Once I’ve eaten I will watch a comfort film. The Harry Potter series has been added to my countries Netflix recently so I have been watching them every evening. Sometimes I have a light, sweet snack whilst watching too. But I never eat more than 3 hours before bed usually ♡

I make some hot lemon tea and go back into my room to watch a comfort episode of something. I love the Beatrix Potter/Peter rabbit episodes you can watch online for free. They are so comforting, beautiful and radiate such coquette, cottagecore vibes. Perfect for this time of year ♡

Usually I play a wind-down video game. Either Animal crossing or Minecraft. I associate both of these games with Spring because they are light-hearted and allow me to be creative of an evening ♡

Once I’ve let my food digest for a couple of hours or so, I get my yoga mat out and begin stretching for the evening. I try and do Pilates/yoga or a K-pop dance routine everyday and a stretching routine. (Apart from setting my alarm) I also don’t go on my phone from this point onwards, so there are no screens/blue lights before bed ♡

Shower time. I usually shower quite late before bed and every morning too. I just like the way it makes me feel more fresh but obviously not everyone likes doing this so don’t feel you have to! I use my marshmallow shower gel, coconut body cream or my cherry-blossom body cream too. I love washing the day off ♡

Then I take off my days makeup and do my skincare whilst usually watching Vogue beauty secrets. It’s such a comforting thing to watch when your taking off/putting on your makeup. I also spray myself with a lavender body mist to help me sleep, and of course I brush my teeth ♡

I then get changed into a nightgown or some cotton/airy pyjamas. I don’t like to wear anything too constricting in Spring, which is why I love vintage nightwear. Or I wear my Brandy Melville, heart lace pyjamas ♡

I brush my hair through thoroughly whilst listening to classical music, and tie it up either with a ribbon or hair tie so it doesn’t mess up when I sleep ♡

I pick out my outfit for the next day the night before and lay it out on my vanity so I know what I’m wearing the following morning ♡

I turn my electric blanket on if it is a little chilly that night and say goodnight to my parents. I switch my fairy lights on and get into bed ♡

I either listen to relaxing “Lana Del Rey” songs or nursery rhymes ♡

I usually journal about my day to reflect on everything that has happened and I write my to-do list for the following day ♡

I read every night for half an hour or more. Usually it’s a fairytale so my head is filled with magic before I sleep ♡

Before I sleep I play rain music or rainforest sounds, or I choose a subliminal to listen to overnight from my library, and I spray my pillow with “Lavender pillow mist” or I use a sleep oil to help me get to sleep ♡

If I haven’t done it already, I set my alarm for 7AM, to ensure I have a productive morning the next morning. I make sure to get at least 8-10 hours of sleep. I love waking up early and listening to the bird song, especially now since the Sunrise is at 4am ♡

I count sheep & swans and like to imagine fantasy lands in my head before I sleep, and hope to be transported there in my dreams, before I finally drift off to the land of Z z z ♡

[aharris00britney]

ASKS 16

haha remember in July when I said I was gonna answer stuff every month... yeah me neither 🙈🙈 anyways lots of stuff under the cut

Anonymous said: You should get along with other Simblrs and start a new cc group now that PTS is disbanded, your hairs and clothes are always amazing! :D

Firstly thank you! Most of the clothing in AxA is 99% ayoshi with me going in after and cleaning/adding some stuff. So I give him props for the clothes :P As far as a ‘new PTS’ style group idk, there are a lot of amazing creators on simblr but I think the reason PTS was such a special thing is because the bond they all had. I feel that when working on collabs with some of my really close friends (such as the one coming out this month with @dogsill​ and @ayoshi​) because we have known each other for over 2 years now. A group of friends built only for collabing purposes would be more of a hassle than an enjoyment imo. <3

Anonymous said: HELLLOOOO! just curious bc why not but what is your favorite creation that you have made??

It varies every month to be honest lmao. If you asked me to pick a favorite hair from each month? Easy, always the last release of the month. But favorite hair ever? Awwww shucks 🤠 lmao I would say my Madison Hair is one of my favorite hair releases, I am planning to revamp it soon to work with my Mia ombre accessories and tidy the mesh up some. 

Anonymous said: hello, when will this collection be free for public download please? /post/186706149526/patreon-08-19

That came out in August luv, go to my downloads page and click AxA 2019

Anonymous said: Hi! Idk if you do wcif!!!! But if you do, wcif the freckles on the girl with the short hair on the BOP AHOOB collab?? If you know! Thank you much in advance!!!!!

Hey! You’ll need to send Bowl-Of-Plumbobs a message for that WCIF, that was his Sim otherwise I would link you. Sorry hun

@lumalinrose-sims​ said: Not a question, but you are like so cool I can't even--

thank you lmao I appreciate it, your profile pic it pretty cool :P

@ang3lba3 said: sarah is so pretty!!! is there a way to download how she looks in its entirety, or no? (sorry if this is a silly question im pretty new to the sims) 

not silly don’t worry :P the Sarah hair is for download on the post, the sim can be downloaded here but she is a bit outdated as I have changed her somewhat since then. 

Anonymous said: Hihi just stopping by to tell you how much I love your hairs!!

thank you so much! I appreciate the love<3

Anonymous said: hi! i just wanted to say that i love your cc so much i and always look forward to your posts! you make the cutest cc ever and honestly you're probably my favorite cc maker. you also seem like such a chill and genuine person we truly stan.

fgvhbjn thank you lmao I am literally TOO CHILL irl lmao I let people run over me so much but it’s whatever. Thank you again for the super sweet message. Have a great day if you’re reading this :)

Anonymous said: Heeeey we have the same name

Austin club :P great name til you’re trying to sign something and it looks awful (at least for me I can’t do my signature for shit)

Anonymous said: the collab with bop is so boring and dull it’s drier than a cracker it’s a no from me

well not everything is going to be someones cup of tea lmao I’m sure there is someone that enjoys it which counters you’re negative view <3

Anonymous said: Hi I love your cc! I have almost all of it in my game and I love your tropical punch palette so much I was wondering if you would ever consider releasing the palette.

If I ever make an ombre accessory tutorial video I will release a set of actions for the palette. If you wanna use the palette feel free to grab the hex codes from S4S.

Anonymous said: How did you become a ea game changer? Was it through Tumblr or youtube?

About a year ago SimGuruKate was the community manager and had applications for Tumblr Game Changers, I applied and got accepted. Follow SimGuruFrost on Twitter to stay up to date on when new applications are open.

Anonymous said: Are you going to upload the hair you made on your livestream? I literally love your work and am a Patreon subscriber!!!

Hey! The hair will be in my October voting (I think) and if it wins, release will be November. If it doesn’t win I will put it in November voting and so forth til it wins. Also thank you for watching the stream and supporting me on Patreon 

Anonymous said: hello!! i just wanted to see if knew is there’s anyway i can save my cc and save files somehow where i can download them again if my computer breaks so i don’t have to download it all again.?

zip your Sims 4 folder and upload it to Google Drive/SimsFileShare/OneDrive. Then when you install Sims 4 again you just replace the folder made in Electronic Arts in your Documents.

Anonymous said: what face do you make when your in love with a bee?

this is an old anon so I doubt they’re gonna check for this, and I can’t find the joke on Google so.... anybody know it?

Anonymous said: i love these collab sets they are honestly gifts from above

mhmm gifts from above for every collab except those in October... those are from below  👹 😳

Anonymous said: the pack is sooooo cute i love everything omg!!!! The male stuff is so adorable i can’t wait to download   

Anonymous said: you guys are the only ones i go to for packs i would love to see build buy items in the future we don’t get a lot mm stuff like that

Anonymous said:i just want to say thank you for putting in so much time and hard work and dedication to creating cc for us. i hope there's never a moment when you feel unappreciated, and i want you to know we all love you!

@primadonnaliferiseandfall​ said: all hail you and ayoshi for the cc pack its so pretty omg!!!!

Anonymous said: omg the kings have delivered!!

Anonymous said: since we got axa 2019 and 2018 will there be an axa 2020? 👀

Anonymous said: Great job on the pack! Everyone's items look gorgeous! Thank you for making this, you talented human being.

Anonymous said: ilysm! that’s all 💓💫

Anonymous said: just wanted to let you know that your content is absolutely amazing and i love it all :) sending love from the uk👍

Anonymous said: would you and ayoshi consider sharing the psds for some of the stuff in your collab? please?

thank you guys so much! Me and Ayoshi were super super happy with the AxA 2019 release and we are so happy with how many people have liked it. AxA 2020 will be a thing, yes. Also I have been working on PSDs that are super easy to navigate. I will get those up soon hopefully.

@graphicpickles​ said: Hey um, I dont know if you were aware of this but your discord link is broken ^^"

hey! this is super late sorry, discord link should be working now. If not: https://discord.gg/CtQR9tb

Anonymous said: Why would you include a cc hair in a preview for a cas review

because I liked the hair and wanted to use it 😗

@goddesssimmerina​ said: I just stopped by to tell you how much I LOVE your content. *_* I just went through and downloaded soooo much! xD I actually just switched to using MM hair and i'm so glad I did because I'm finding so many of you amazing creators and I thank you all sm! :*

awe thank you!! I appreciate it. Welcome to MM hair world :P

@moonbrightsims said: whats ur origin id?

AHarris00Britney

Anonymous said: how are your photos/screenshots so high quality? seriously, do you use a mod for it or idk editing? or maybe your settings?

Ultra Settings, and I use SRWE for HQ pics. 

Anonymous said: if you don’t answer this ask you’re straight

It has been answered. I am no longer straight. Was a hard two months not answering this 😔😔😔

Anonymous said: Hi, would you mind teaching us how you make the LoDs of your hairs? I opened one of them in S4S and found out your LoDs are great looking. I use decimate tool in blender and they look really bad.

I edge split everything before I decimate in Blender, I also delete the hairline and extrude the mesh inside the head before decimating as well. Really confusing to explain in words sorry. Might make a tutorial.

Anonymous said: omg ur cc finds blog has apink namjoo as icon and header. i'm.. sCREAMING. austin knows royalty

yes ma’am now where is the comeback

- it was at this point I realized I have caught up with my last asks post and have answered 4 things over again from Asks 15. Well... I guess that’s it folks

see yall in asks 17 in 2 months.... maybe the end of October idk

[miekasa]

I’m in love with the idea of twitch streamer bf eren

OKAY ME TOO!! Easily top 3 best Eren concepts imo it’s just so good and so... him, he falls on the gamer himbo boyfriend side of the scale for sure

Let’s start with his setup: purple and/or green with a dark wood tabletop. He keeps the lights green during the day or when his computer is idle, and mixes in the purple when it’s dark out because he likes the Ambiance. 

Only one monitor and do not let him buy another one no matter how much he claims he needs it. He does not. He has a TV in his room tho, but it’s not mounted above or near his desk; it’s on the opposite wall that faces his bed. Laying down and watching Netflix takes priority.  

He’s a sucker for themed keyboards/keycaps. If he finds a set themed around his favorite show or a character he likes, he’ll buy it. No self control.

The majority of his keyboards have that super clacky almost officey sounding click to them, and he’s obsessed with it. Sometimes he fucks around on Google Docs typing nonsense just to hear the keyboard make noise.

Puts in special keycaps on the ones with your initials on whichever keyboard he’s using at the moment <3 gamer boyfriend things <33

Always swears he wants to do some kind of special event or thank you for subscriber/follower milestones, but he never catches his own milestones 😭😭 by the time he realizes he has 100k subs, he’s already on 103k or something 

Then he calls you, his friends, and his subscribers fake for not pointing it out to him like sir it’s right there on your screen please. All you had to do was LOOK

If he’s in the middle of a game and he really has a to pee, or he’s gotta go do something, he’ll yell for you, and you come in, obviously slightly worried, but then Eren is just hurriedly giving you instructions, “Here, press left or right to move, spacebar to fire, avoid these, kill those. That ugly look thing to the left is Jean, and over there is his character. You’re teammates, I’ll be right back,” before he puts his headphones on your head and runs off. Now you’re left to fend for yourself, good luck.

He can be gone anywhere from 30 seconds to 30 minutes 😭😭 if he’s gone for a short amount of time, he comes back with just as much chaotic energy to take back his headphones and shoo you away as he did to throw it all on you pls.

Other times, he’ll go and make a whole ass meal and come back sauntering in with a half eaten grilled cheese in hand, “Oh shit are you still playing, babe—hey you’re doing really well, look at you go!”

When you’re not there, he mentions you a lot, because he’s always thinking about you no matter how small it is; even just the design of a character would prompt him to a make a comment, “I don’t think my girlfriend has ever played this, but I know she’d main this character.” 

Does he invite you to play a game he knows you’ve never played or are bad at with him on his stream, knowing full well he’s an ace at it and will crush you publicly? Absolutely. Without a doubt. 

There’s always a very shameless, not at all subtle shoutout to his Instagram in the middle of all his streams please, he’ll be playing a game and randomly it’s like, “Fire pic on Instagam by the way, go like that.” 

His comments are pretty respectful whenever you’re there or he mentions you; there’s a few cheeky randoms who like to make donations whenever you’re on the screen or say some inappropriate stuff, but Eren’s learned to just ignore it. It doesn’t make him happy, and he might tell people to chill if it’s excessive, but he won’t call out anything explicitly and make you uncomfortable while you’re there. 

Sometimes Connie will make a comment about how you’re hot, and that’s definitely something Eren will call out and bring attention to, more so to mock Connie than anything. 

At one point, his subscribers keep asking for more content with you (especially if you’re not there often/it’s been a while since people have seen a peek of you), to which Eren will pout because, “Hey, this is my Twitch-- now, look, you’ve gotten your Eren’s hot girlfriend privileges revoked for the week.”

Terrible at doing unboxing videos whenever he gets sent product because he just rips things open 😭😭 he’s too eager to do ASMR or gentle/detailed unboxing, he just wants to test out the new parts as soon as possible. 

Abuses his spinny gamer chair. Spins himself dizzy on it (yes, while he’s streaming and waiting for lobbies/things to load), spins you dizzy on it when you’re just trying to be comfy, spins the both of you dizzy when he’s trapped you on his lap. 

He’d be one of those lucky people who gets a cool single name user/ID. Like he gets just @eren or @jaeger/yeager, because his name is pretty unique, but I can totally see him going the typical fun gamer tag route. 

His content is anything from him streaming Overwatch and COD to terraforming his Animal Crossing island, he does not discriminate. One day you could get Eren calling Jean a fucking dumbass for not healing him, and the next day he’s doing his best impressions of Timmy and Tommy.

Do not put it past him to build you a whole ass PC setup if you express the slightest interest in one, even if it’s not solely for gaming/you wanna use it for work/school. He’ll do it. He’ll make his hyperfixating work for him. 

Plus then he’d get to give you one of his old keyboards and give you special keycaps with his initials and go on about how he’s officially got a gamer gf even if all you can do is press the spacebar <33 

[alaskasmonsters]

bnha boys comforting you when you’re on your period

— bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, kaminari denki, kirishima ejirou, shinsou hitoshi

a.n: i don’t usually do hcs with more than three people, but this is a special occasion. the special occasion is me being in pain and in dire need of comfort. i hope this is accurate enough, my brain just spout these out while on pain medication....these are gender neutral, too, btw.

bakugou katsuki

very much overwhelmed with what he is supposed to do when he sees you don’t feel well

i mean he’s shit at being gentle and comforting???? and he doesn’t know what the problem is?

bakugou is very direct so he just asks you

“what the fuck is wrong with you, idiot?”

did i mention he’s not good at being gentle?

he didn’t know periods could hurt but it makes sense to him because there is blood, so obviously it must hurt

also he doesn’t date weaklings so if you’re down it means this must be hell basically

wants to bring you to recovery girl because how else is he supposed to help? that old hag must have some kind of medicine for this shit

he’ll respect whatever it is you want though

you want him to stay with you? fine with him. you want him to leave? he’ll understand. 

will cook you food though! he can’t just let you starve because you don’t know how to take care of yourself

he’s better with showing how much he cares through actions than words 

gives the best belly rubs hands down

he’ll heat up his hands for you and it makes you feel so much better

basically the best heating pad TM

(he’ll totally brag about it if you tell him that)

probably insults your period more than just once while you’re in pain

like this shitty thing hurts you???

how dare it hurt his favorite person fuck it

he’s gonna be the number one hero so of course he’ll take care of you and make sure you feel better soon

he’s also the number one boyfriend, don’t even try to deny that

todoroki shouto

he’s very concerned about your well being

please tell him what’s wrong with you he needs to know how to help you so you feel better soon

when you tell him he’s kinda shellshocked about the whole thing

you bleed? several times a year? and that’s normal? it also hurts? yeah it must hurt! you’re bleeding!

asks you what he can do for you because he wants to help you feel better

no matter what you ask him to do, he’ll do it immediately

you need essentials? consider it done

shouto wouldn’t even blink, he’ll buy you pads or tampons no cap

just imagine him standing in the isle for women’s products and choose what kind of pad or tampon to get you

he’d be all concentrated and frowny

and serious, he’d be very serious about doing a good job

straight up asks a few bystanders for their personal opinion of what they believe to be the best kind

there are just so many and why do some of them have wings? what does that even mean????

you want warm clothes? he’ll just pull his hoodie over his head and give it to you

that’s not enough? he’ll pull of his shirt as well

you wants blankets and pillows? he’ll bring them immeditaley

you wants cuddles? he will happily warm you up with his quirk

belly rubs? yes! he’ll use his left hand so he can help you with warmth

just anything really! he wants you to feel better

if you don’t know what he could do to help you he’ll just ask the 1-A girls

will just go up to one of them and ask what helps them during period pain

they’re kinda spooked but think it’s really sweet when he explains

he now has a whole list of things of what he could try and he’s gonna go though every single one of them until you’re better

midoriya izuku

extremly worried when he sees how bad you’re feeling

he’ll just try to bring you to recovery girl because are you sick? are you hurt? do you have a fever? what’s wrong????

tell him the problem he’ll be all shy and blushy

also embarrassed because he has no idea about any of that

first thing he does is do research because that’s what he’s best at

by the end he knows more about periods than you do

it’s kinda scary

probably asks a lot of questions to make sure the pain you experience is normal and there is nothing wrong with you

he’s just very concerned okay, he doesn’t want anything to be wrong with you

tells you how strong you are because period pain compared to the pain of a heart attack???? what???

and you go through that several times a year???? he truly has the most amazing significant other in the world

showers you in compliments because you deserve them all

you’re so amazing!!

collects tips from different articles and makes a list

he’ll try every single one of them and he will not stop until you feel better

he wants to be a hero and as a hero he has to be able to help you, too!

kaminari denki

most worried out of all of them

he is a little overdramatic so he just immediately assume you’re dying

will be all over you basically until you tell him what’s up

he will be so glad to find out you’re actually not dying

very confused about the concept of periods but he sure doesn’t like them

they hurt you and he loves you so they’re bad news

also who even needs them? they sound useless

will immediately offer cuddles to you because they help him feel better, too, so he hopes they help you, as well

he asks you where it hurts so he can kiss it better as well

he wants to make you laugh so he just fools around a lot

he’ll crack jokes, tell funny stories…whatever it takes to cheer you up

he’ll make sure you stay in bed all day and are all comfortable and cozy

you do not get to do anything that could exhaust you!

“no, y/n! you’re sick and that means you gotta stay in bed!“

you try to tell him you’re not sick but denki doesn’t believe it

you spend your time watching all your favorite movies and playing video games

if you don’t like to play yourself just watch denki build his village in animal crossing

denki gets all the snacks he can find in a short amount of time and brings them to you

he does not want to leave you alone for too long, otherwise he’d go to a store to get all your favorites as well

will rub your belly whenever you look uncomfortable

he’ll kiss your face a lot and make ridiculous sounds to make you laugh

he’s just very affectionate also

asks if you’re feeling better every few minutes

don’t tell him if you’re feeling worse because it will frustrate him he doesn’t know how to help you

homeboi also texts mina a lot to get tips about how he can help you

kirishima eijirou

not at all stressed over the idea of periods and period pain

a manly guy like him knows that things like that are super natural 

and a manly guy like him also knows how manly it is to take care of his significant other when they’re in pain so that’s what’s he gonna do

will baby and pepper you with love if you want him to

do not ask him to leave you alone though

his heart will break into pieces if you do

he’ll just look at you like he’s about to cry

he wants to help so badly but even if he can’t help he wants to be there for you and with you

just let him hold you or sit next to you and he’ll be happy

also tell him if you need anything

he’ll jump up and rush to get it immediately

he wants to be the best boyfriend possible

he’ll bring you food and water even if you don’t feel like eating or drinking, because he’s gotta make sure you’re fed and hydrated

will run you a hot bath as well, because you deserve to relax a little

if you don’t want a bath he’ll just tuck you into bed and play your favorite music

makes sure you are not stressing over anything so you can get better

shinsou hitoshi

shinsou is just very chill about the whole situation

“you’re in pain? that sucks. let’s take care of you.“

happily naps with you if you want to do that

he barely sleeps anyway, so that’s something that would help the both of you!

although he won’t be able to sleep himself…

he is just happy to hold you and look at your cute face while you’re asleep

if you don’t want to nap that’s fine to

he asks you what you need and because whatever it is, you know best after all

he’ll just help you to the best of his ability

he knows it won’t just magically go away but if he can do anything to make it more endurable…lay it on him!

will put on your favorite music or movie or show and just be there

if you’re watching a movie he’ll distract you with his top tier commentary

if you’re listening to music he’ll hum the melody to help calm you down 

if you’re watching a show he’d make dry jokes about everything that’s going on in there

taglist: @crystal-lilac​

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: heey, so here is Part III, hope you all enjoy it! i'm thinking of starting a new story soon, once this is ended, probably focusing more on world building and Karl and reader relationship hehe

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord

Part III – The Hunt

Getting to know the factory turned out to be a fantastic experience. You had never seem so many different paraphernalia in your live, the closer you had ever got to that was when you were a child poking around your dad’s storeroom, but there were only some tools, agriculture products and inherited ornaments from your cabin family – these last ones were your absolute favourite.

Heisenberg’s factory, on the other hand, was full of interesting things, some of them you had no idea what were used for. You even found a suspicious “torture” room, but couldn’t dig into it, once he was nearby. Still, you found his journals narrating his experiments, his audio reports and some guide books on mechanics that had you intrigued for a long time while reading them. He was a madman, you were convinced, but at the same time, that secluded part of you was growing a little each day you explored his life.

Lord Heisenberg was nicer and quieter than you would imagine. He basically lived in his various offices across the factory, mostly he would be trying new mechanisms on bodies and seeing how they reacted with the Cadou, the strange parasite the villagers mentioned only on rare and veiled conversations. As far as it wasn’t you, or your family, lying cold on one of the stretchers, you didn’t care. As a matter of fact, you felt tempted to try some things with the gears yourself as you deepen your studies in his books.

At your first days there, you got worried you would have to share the bed with him, which would be much more proximity than you had ever had with another person. The man had already seen your half naked and that was enough. However, he didn’t sleep there with you and you wondered why, once he so enthusiastically mocked you about it when you arrived. Actually, you started doubting he ever slept at all.

You were still a bit scared, though, never knowing if he would play a prank on you, so you were very careful to avoid him for a while - that didn’t endure –, believing you should give him space to get used to your presence after the mood he got into after your reception.

He was disturbed, indeed. His work was getting closer to a crucial point that involved Mother Miranda. He musted be discreet, but it was proving to be a real trial with Soldats activating and running around as lost beasts. Also, having you around actually gave him a new problem.

Lord Heisenberg would walk around the factory looking for material, testing the Soldats and cursing a lot, some of these swearwords you didn’t even know, but started liking how he used them, almost cartoonish. It was never directed to you, of course. He acted like you weren’t there most of the time, in others, when he was more chilled, with less work to do, he asked “how is the mess at the wing, buttercup?” laughing at you blushing at his indiscreet platonic flirts.

You had to find your way around the factory. That place was a labyrinth and a map would come handy, so you drew it on some clean papers you found lying around, loving not to get lost anymore. You hadn’t been face-to-face to one of his creations yet, just saw them on the production lines on the overview of the factory and on some specific rooms. You also avoided it due to fear.

He told you where the wing to be cleaned was and you found it after an hour. It was so incredibly packed with mechanical parts that you could barely come inside to take a look. Huffing, you thought that he could solve that without moving a muscle. It made you mad, but also made you wonder what you were doing there. You cleaned it anyway, as it was your duty and used that waste to build some minor projects.

At the end of your expedient, your hands were orange because of the rusty irons you were moving all day long and you had little cuts here and there, but nothing really bad. As it was going, it wouldn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and could even decorate it for him, making it feel more like home to you too.

You were liking it there. Of course, it was dusty, grey, sometimes rusty and hot all the time, but it was also very different from everything. Once you said goodbye to the cabins, then to the Village and maybe being away from Miranda’s dominance made you feel lighter.

You found some red fabric lying around somewhere, appearing to be forgotten, made some nature sketches on blank papers and put yellow lights on the bedroom and on Karl’s soon-to-be new working room. It looked cosy. You hoped he would appreciate it when he met the reformed wing, until then, you would keep quiet not to bother him.

Though, shortly after you finished decorating the bedroom, an event destroyed your plans of avoiding Heisenberg. On your daily route to what you would now call your wing, you crossed the kitchen and found an overcoat-less Karl trying to prepare a sandwich. He had any chef’s nightmare happening in that place. There were blunt knives flying around, a metal cup chasing the kettle spilling hot coffee all over the floor as he tried to open a bottle of whiskey and, finally, hot coffee hit Heisenberg’s chest and he screamed and cursed like a sore animal.

“FUCK!” He thundered, his word echoing in the corridor where you stood.

You couldn’t ignore that scene even if you tried. You were getting tired of not talking to him, you lived together now and all your few friends were slowly becoming distant memories. You would be happy to hear his voice, something else than gears rumble, even if it was cursing your predecessors.

As a powerful person, he would try to use his powers to do simple things and do a real mess instead. You felt compelled to give him some support, maybe it was a part of your mother’s care for others that lived in you too. You entered the kitchen headstrong, holding a laugh at his misery looks. Now he was stroking his shirt with a cloth and only noticed you when you were getting around the island.

You didn’t know, however, he never “never noticed” you. He felt your presence at the corridor before you saw him and he felt ashamed of you seeing him failing at a stupid task, and so forth his reaction was to be boorish.

“What?” He asked in a rude tone.

“Just let me help.” You offered, placing your hand in the air between you two. It wasn’t really an offer, you were just being polite, you would help him one way or another, you would have your small talk, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. “Please.” You asked, making the sweeter voice you could.

He huffed and threw the wet cloth on the sink. You took another cloth from one of the drawers – you were getting used to the utensils’ places –, wet it a little with water and looked at him, your head slightly tilted to the right.

“What is it, kitten?” Heisenberg questioned, roughly playful then.

“It is your shirt.” You pointed.

“Yes, it is dirty. Weren’t you trying to help?” He started to lose patience.

“Yeah, I am. It is just… You will have to take it off.” You let it out unpretentiously, although in your mind you were revengeful.

“Oh.” He understood and immediately took it off with so much easiness you wondered how many times he did that when you were so uncertain of it at your first day.

You had never seem him shirtless. To be quite sincere, you hadn’t seen many shirtless men in your life. The Village was a very cold town, once it was deep into a forest in the mountains, so even in the summer there wasn’t a hot weather, so people tended to keep their clothes on. Because of this, when he took it off you instantly blushed at his scarred chest.

He has what you would call a dad body. It isn’t really sinewy, although still very strong with thick arms and defined muscles. He has some belly, which means he isn’t a skinny person, but he isn’t fat also. And maybe you took too long looking at him like that and feeling weird feelings you would think about later that night.

“You’re almost drooling there, buttercup.” He teased you and when you quickly, but gently, started cleaning his chest with the cloth, so you wouldn’t have to answer, he gave up a deliciously loud laugh.

You laughed with him, making him laugh even harder. You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked it, this casual connection between you two. The laugh died a gradual death and you started moving you hand on his chest, feeling its warmth below the cloth. You could almost swear his breathing was getting faster and you saw he was biting his lips, maybe because you were taking too long. You didn’t want to finish, but you both know there wasn’t much coffee on him anyway.

You put the cloth with the other one in the sink and as you watered them, you saw him going to get his shirt that had been laying on the island.

“No, no, no.” You said, taking it from his hands kind brusquely, making him confused. “I need to wash these.”

“I see.” He said, raising his hands to show he wouldn’t try again, as a peace offer that made you grin.

“I can finish your sandwich for you, it will only take a minute.” You added, embarrassed to be so bossy with him.

“I will be at my office.” He told you and left without looking back.

You thought he got mad at you because of the shirt situation. It made you sad, you started having a nice approach. To compensate you made him a really good sandwich with the meat and vegetables you found in the refrigerator. Searching for food there you considered asking him to go see the Duke and buy supplies, maybe even hunt, because you didn’t have enough provisions. Anyway, you also prepared the coffee, poured a glass of cowboy whisky – sipped one, two or three times yourself – and cleaned what was there to be cleaned. It took more than one minute, but less than teen.

You were heading to his office when you heard a muffled noise. It sounded guttural and made you shiver. Electricity running through your body, making you feel hopelessly exposed, only that countered by the alcohol it felt good. You stepped carefully as you got closer to the door. You considered not knocking, but the noise made you knock.

“Just…” He gasped. “Leave it at the door, please.” Heisenberg was painting, but he asking “please” was what made up your mind, that politeness wasn’t usual, so you did what he requested.

You wanted to be around him on that day, but chose to respect his privacy. You didn’t imagine that his mind was blowing with you, he desperately wanted to continue the kitchen talk, but couldn’t give himself the chance once he was so close to perfecting the Soldats.

To ease your thoughts, as you were no longer requested at the factory, you tested your stealth skills and slipped to the forest behind it, caring your bow and arrows determinedly.

You were familiar with that area as you have hunted all around the Village, thus, you knew where to go to find good preys. It was by the lake were the deer stopped to drink water. It was far from the factory entrance, but again, you knew exactly what you were doing. When approaching the lake, you climbed a tree and waited.

It didn’t take long until a lonely deer appeared, unsuspicious. It leaned its head so it could reach the water level and started drinking it. You positioned one arrow, held your breath and did the physics magic. The arrow nailed its left eye. It didn’t scream, it was over very quickly.

You climbed the tree down, came closer to the body and tied it with the rope you brough from the factory. Your way back wasn’t effortless, you were slower due to the extra weight and the lycans sensed its blood, their sounds were all around you. They wouldn’t hurt your, though, somehow, they knew you were with Heisenberg.

It was past four in the afternoon when you reached the factory, panting with the effort of bringing the deer. Heisenberg was poking around for something in his front yard. He noticed you just as you appeared in his peripherical vision. He walked towards you, with an intrigued expression that transformed into an impressed one when he saw the deer.

“Some gifts you have there, kitten, ain’t gonna lie.” He commented, squatting to take a good look at the animal. “How did you do that?” It was clear he didn’t mean to offend, quite the opposite, he was genuinely curious.

“A girl has her secrets.” You answered, when you finally stop panting, shrugging when internally you are fulfilled someone knew about you hunting and didn’t seem mad at you.

He wasn’t even angry you left the factory without his permission, which made you happier. He stood below you with the animal for a few seconds more, than got up on his feed, laid his hands on your shoulders, well, on your skin hunting jacket, and said “You are really something, kitten.”

You fell for his words. You never wanted to feel that dependant on someone’s appreciation for you, but with him it was lighter. Karl took the weight of the world off your shoulders by bringing you there and kind off supporting you even though you had only spent little more than a month together.

“Thank you, my lord.” You spoke.

“Stop it. Call me Karl.” He said roughly, but good hearted. “Now, do you know how to clean this deer?” Heisenberg asked.

Usually, Duke would do it for you, although you knew the theory, you hadn’t much practice.

“I was hoping you could help me with it, Karl.” You suggested, toasting him a malicious smile.

“For fuck’s sake.” But he cursed laughing.

He cleaned this table at the garage and disposed the deer there. You helped him doing the messy job, learning with him what you only saw the Duke doing. It wasn’t pretty, but you were comforted by his presence and obstinacy. He probably did it often as it showed, but didn’t bother to take it slower so he could teach you.

Heisenberg enjoyed that night more than you could imagine. He didn’t care for the Soldats, they could wait, it was nice being around you for a change, not running away from your hair, your smile, your presence. For the first time in his life, he actually had someone who wanted to be around him.

Later your prepared venison, demi-glace, potatoes, a fresh arugula salad and both of your enjoyed dinner at the kitchen island with bottles of dark beer. He was funny, he was tripping over words a little, due to the alcohol, but his stories, oh man… He was a real brat. You told him about the cabins and the hunting. He listened carefully, never judging you and laughed at your silly manners, at your etiquette and, over all, loved your cook.

He slept in the bed with you, tired, amused and drunk, he sunk in his dreams. You stayed up a bit longer, resisting your lazy eyes temptations just to appreciate his scent, it would smell like burned wood.

[saeran-imagines]

If you are not busy can i request a saeran xreader where we live together and we have a cat witch disturb our moment together? I Know its strange i wont even set anon ill let everyone see how much my mind can go wild. (if you are confortable it can be spicy)

Thanks!!

Thanks for the request!! No requests are weird in Apple’s Lair™, this was a fun request to write >u< I sprinkled in some mild spice but there isn’t anything that’d warrant a warning!

🏵 🏵 🏵

    “And for those reasons... I’m out”

    “Darn…” Saeran mutters from his seat on the couch next to you. “That seemed like a cool product.” The businessmen on the TV say their goodbyes to the dejected entrepreneur, who then makes the walk of shame through the double doors.

    “I know, right?” you say. “What do they mean ‘only good for parties?’ If I had a machine that could cut my vegetables into cute little animal shapes I’d use it every day,” you pout.

    “I bet I could get Saeyoung to make us something like that. It seems up his alley.” You giggle at the thought of him sitting at a workbench all day making glorified cookie cutters.

    “Maybe that’d convince him to actually eat vegetables.” Saeran chuckles. You snuggle into his side and close your eyes, comfortable in the quiet moment. He’s so warm and soft, you could sit like this forever. It’s a little too quiet, though. You open your eyes to a ‘Keep Watching?’ prompt. Have you really been at the TV for that long? You feel around for the remote next to you, not wanting to move away from your comfortable boyfriend pillow.

“More Shark Tank?” you ask. 

“Hmm… I think I’m done for the night.” He squeezes you a little tighter and lays his head on your shoulder. You rest your head on top of his. He really does make a comfortable pillow, you fit in each other's arms so perfectly. 

“Do you wanna head to bed then?” 

“Hmm… no, I think I’m pretty comfortable here. Goodnight my love,” he teases, burying his head further in your shoulder and closing his eyes. You chuckle.

“Nooo we’ll be more comfortable in our bed, get up.” You wiggle him a little bit and feel him laugh against you. 

“I can’t, I’m fast asleep,” he says, eyes still closed to prove his point. “You’ll have to do more than that to wake me up.” Oh, he wants to play this game? You can play this game. You move your hand under his jaw and gently lift his face up to face you. His mouth twitches as he tries not to smile. You get a glimpse of blue as one eye opens slightly to peek at you, but he closes it again before you can call him out. You lean in close to him until your lips are almost touching. 

“Saeran,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.” His eyebrows furrow as he tries to keep his eyes shut, hanging onto his attempt at feigning sleep. He can’t keep the smile off his face anymore, though, and his breaths against your lips are faster than normal.

“I can’t, I’m sleeping.” You lean in a little closer, letting your lips brush up against his.

“You’re asleep?” You keep your voice low and soft. “Is this how prince charming felt before waking his princess from her long slumber?” You giggle at the anticipation in his face before pulling away to rest your head against the couch again. “Well, too bad that’s just a fairy tale.” That causes his eyes to snap open, the laugh he’s been holding in finally coming out.

“No wait I’m awake, I’m awake! You’re so unfair.” He pouts, looking up at you with puffed up cheeks. You laugh and wrap your arm around him, pulling him in for a real kiss this time. He deepens the kiss, only pulling away once you’re both out of breath. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he sings, pulling you in for another kiss.

MYAAAAA

The sound startles you both out of the kiss. You turn to look at the source: your favorite little monster sitting by the door to the kitchen. Her round yellow eyes pierce into your soul, reminding you that it’s 10 minutes past feeding time. You turn back to your lover. It’s only been 10 minutes, and you’re busy right now. 

“Ugh, just ignore her...” Saeran chuckles at your complaint, but doesn’t protest when you pull him in for another long kiss. His hands slide up your shirt a bit as he pulls you closer, slowly running up and down your sides as you continue to kiss. 

MYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The sound doesn’t startle you this time, but it does kill the mood a bit. You pull away and rest your forehead on his chest. You let out a small groan that makes him chuckle.

“Do you think we should feed-” he starts, but you attack him with a surprise neck kiss before he can finish. 

“Just a little more?” His face heats up with embarrassment at how eager you are, but he isn’t about to tell you no. His breaths turn shaky as you kiss his neck again. Your lips move further up his neck, across his jaw, to the corner of his mou-

CRASH

The loud noise snaps you both out of your little moment and you spring up to assess the damage. You make eye contact with the culprit who is proudly sitting on a side table, paw still raised. Your eyes are drawn to the floor next, where a fern is lying sideways in a mess of water, dirt and ceramic shards. You sheepishly turn to Saeran, who’s looking at you with his arms crossed and a disappointed frown that holds no weight. 

“See? This is what happens to naughty people who ignore their responsibilities.” You laugh and poke his chest.

“You liked it.” His frown breaks and he chuckles.

“Yeah,” he says with a cheeky grin. “I’ll repot the plant if you feed the hungry monster?”

“Deal.” You give him a thumbs up. You split up to be responsible adults and take care of the aftermath of your cat’s outburst. As you’re dishing out cat food you find yourself humming with excitement for being done with these surprise chores. You can’t wait to settle down for the night with Saeran, free from any more distractions~

[nomtterwhere]

silent treatment || marco peña x reader

request: @mansaaay requested “Jealous or mad marco which leads to silent treatment?”

summary: a friendly game on a rainy day gone bad

warnings: not much, gets a little spicy towards the end, but no smut

word count: 2203

you and marco are in his room, you sitting in the chair at his desk and him sitting up on his bed. you had planned on going to the river today to have a picnic, but when you woke up that morning it was downpouring. it was supposed to rain for a while, so the two of you had just been hanging out at marco’s house, trying to figure out ways to keep yourselves occupied until it stopped.

“time!” you call out as the timer on your phone went off.

you open your eyes and look at your picture, laughing out loud.

“marco, i am genuinely so sorry about this.” you manage through your laughter.

“oh god, not again.”

one of the games you had come up with was like pictionary, except harder. each of you picked a card with an object on it and you had to draw a picture of that object with your eyes closed in thirty seconds. then you showed it to each other and if the other person could guess what it was, they got a point.

the game had proven to be harder than you had originally thought, considering you have been playing for almost an hour and the score was only 3 to 5. (a lot of that time was spent guessing and then fighting over who got the point) you were winning, of course.

you hold yours up and marco’s eyes widen. “um...” he tilts his head, as if that’ll help. “a sailboat?”

you shake your head, turning the paper and looking at it yourself. “are you kidding me? that looks nothing like a sailboat.”

“it doesn’t look like much of anything!” he exclaims. “hang on, bring it here.”

you get up and walk over to his bed, sitting cross legged in front of him and hold out the picture to him.

he takes it from you, holding it closer and starts laughing. “y/n, what the actual hell.”

you feign offense even though you knew it was terrible. “i did my best! come on, you have two more guesses, make good use of them.”

“okay,” he squints. “is it a plane?”

you give him a look. “are you even trying?”

“i am! it’s not my fault you suck at drawing!” he ducks as you swing a pillow at his head and gives you a smile.

“okay, okay.” he lays the paper down in front of him and studies it, his hands folded underneath his chin.

you roll your eyes, knowing he was only doing so to mock you.

“a car!” he says, looking up at you.

you shake your head, holding up your card. “it’s a tractor!” you take your picture from him, holding it up. “see, these are the wheels and see how the front is bigger than the back? i really don’t see how you got sailboat from this.”

“why is that even an option?” marco complains. “car, tractor, is there really a difference? they both have wheels.”

you softly pat his cheek. “don’t be a sore loser. now come on, let’s see yours.”

he groans. “mine is too easy.” but he hands it over nonetheless.

you smile, looking at the obvious depiction on the piece of paper. “a dog!”

“absolutely unfair. how come you get to guess all the easy ones and i get ones like tractor and velociraptor?”

you laugh at him. “because the universe knows what it wants. and what it wants is for me to win.”

“or because you’re cheating.” he says, raising an eyebrow.

you let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your heart. “how dare you accuse me of such a crime? i would never.”

“you know, now that i think about it. you were the one to pick the cards for each round.” marco speculates, collecting the sheets of paper spread out on his bed.

he walks over to the trash bin in his room, dumping the papers inside.

“i hope you’re going to put those in the recycling bin later.” you say as he comes back over to you.

“yes, of course. i just don’t feel like going downstairs right now.” he wraps his arms around your waist and wiggles his way into your embrace.

you lean back on the bed, adjusting so his body was on top of yours, your arms around his shoulders.

he buried his head in your stomach, placing soft kisses on the exposed skin from where your shirt had ridden up.

you ran your fingers along his bare back, tracing a random pattern as you went. every once in a while, you would lightly scratch his skin, then gently rub it with your thumb and listen as he sighed against your stomach.

“you wanna play another round?” you say after a while.

“are you gonna cheat this time?” marco’s response came muffled.

you run a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. “you can pick out the cards for us if it’ll make you feel better.”

he picks his head up with a grin. “then let’s do it.” he reaches up and you lean down, giving him a quick kiss.

he whines when you pull away and tightens his arms around your center.

“i’m gonna need a longer kiss than that if you want to get up.” he closes his eyes again.

you laugh, but cup his cheeks and bring him in for a longer kiss. he hums against your lips, clearly pleased as he slips his tongue in. your mouths moved together in a familiar rhythm, slowly, as if trying to memorize each other. and you get that feeling you always do when you kiss him, a constant reminder of how much you love him. that is, until:

“still a cheater.” he mumbles against your lips.

“oh, shut up.” you push at his shoulders until he releases you, falling into his back beside you as he laughs.

you get up and grab the box with the object cards on them, bringing it over to marco.

“alright, let’s do this.” you toss it onto the bed.

“this is how someone who doesn’t cheat do it, for future reference.” he says, making a big show of putting a hand over his eyes and reaching into the box with his other arm.

he pulls out two cards and hands one to you with a grin.

“this is the last one. whoever wins this round wins the whole game.”

you watch as he sits up, glancing at his own card. “you’re just saying that because you’re losing.”

he looks up at you with a shrug. “whatever my reasons are, the terms still stand.”

you go back to his desk, grabbing a pen and two sheets of paper, handing marco one of the sheets. you decide to stay on the floor, not wanting to walk back to his desk.

“can you set the timer?” you situate yourself on the ground, laying in your stomach.

“yup.” marco’s voice came from above you.

you take this opportunity to finally glance at your card and grin when you see ‘giraffe.’ no matter how great you did, there was no way that was going to be the word that would pop into his head.

“okay, i’m ready!”

“alright...go!” he says and you close your eyes and start drawing.

and contrary to what others may think, you really did try. you thought you got the outline of the giraffe down and maybe messed up a little on the spots. but when the thirty seconds were up and you looked at your drawing, you couldn’t even tell if it was an animal.

you laugh aloud and marco groans, knowing what that sound means.

“you are definitely doing this on purpose, no one is this bad at drawing.” he says when he sees your finished product.

“hey! i tried really hard!” you defend your terrible drawing.

but he was right, it did look like you were cheating considering how awful the majority of your drawings came out.

marco shakes his head and looks up at you. “i have no idea, just tell me.”

you smile up at him from the floor. “you don’t even want to guess?”

guessing by the look he gave you, you were going to go with no.

“it’s a giraffe!”

he stares at you and then looks at your drawing, then back at you. “you’re kidding.”

“alright well let’s see yours then, picasso.” you hold out your hand for his drawing.

you study it for a moment, whatever it is, it’s big. he has one big circle as an outline and you could tell he tried to draw details inside of it but you couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be.

but you saw some squiggles drawn on the sides and assumed it was meant to be water so:

“a whale?” you guess and marco grins.

“nope.”

he looked so smug even though you still had two guesses left. and you were determined wipe that look of of his face.

you turn your attention a back to the picture, looking at the shape once again. it had to be something under water, unless those lines he drew were just to throw you off. you look at the circles drawn and realize they’re meant to be windows.

“is it a submarine?” you look up with a smile.

marco’s jaw drops and he grabs the paper from your hand.

“how on earth did you guess that? in what world does anyone ever guess submarine?”

you take the paper back from him. “uh, when the drawing looks like a submarine.” you hold up the drawing. “i win!”

“you cheated.” marco laid back down on his bed, folding an arm over his eyes.

“i did not. you even picked the cards, there was no way i could have known yours.” he didn’t respond. “marco?” still no response.

you stand up from the floor, gathering the papers you used and tossing them out. you look over at marco who is still laying on his bed, completely silent.

“so now you’re not talking to me?” nothing.

“you are such a child, you know that?” he only shifts of his bed.

“this is how children act. they don’t get their way and they throw a little fit just like this.” you gesture towards him.

he lifts his arm to glance at you for a moment and the places it back on his face, ignoring you once again.

you knew he could hold out for a while when he got like this, but you were already bored and wanted to be bored together. and you couldn’t do that if he was ignoring you. so you decided to speed up the process.

“marco.” you test the waters and he still doesn’t respond. “mar-co.” you sing song, walking towards the bed.

you sit next to him, leaning forward to try and peek underneath his arm. “marco, my love.”

he didn’t move but you saw the smile forming on his face and knew you were breaking him. so you take it a step further.

you get on top of him, straddling his waist and placing your hands on his bare chest. you trail your fingers down his chest, purposefully tracing his abs painstakingly slow.

marco lets out a groan, his hands move to grip your thighs, holding on to you tightly.

he opens his eyes and grins at you, shaking his head. “you play dirty.”

you drop a kiss on his chest. “according to you, it’s the only way i know how to play.”

he shakes his head and moves so he’s sitting up against his headboard, holding you in his lap. he leans forward, ducking his head into the crook of your neck.

“that’s because you were cheating. there is no reasonable excuse for how you messed up so much.” he says, as he trails his lips up and down your neck.

“i was blindfolded!” you say, then gasp as he nips at your skin.

one hand goes to the back his neck as he continues to tease your skin, a tingling feeling spreading through your body.

“yeah, so was i. and yet you managed to guess 7 of mine.” he murmurs and then looks at you, smiles, and kisses your lips.

he pulls you closer by the backs of your thighs, then moves his hands to your lower back, fingers creeping underneath your shirt.

you sigh as you feel his hand flatten against your bare back, then curl around to grab your waist. he squeezes lightly and you laugh into his mouth, your next kiss swallowing the sound.

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” he mumbles in between kisses.

you grin, pulling back for a moment. you rub your hands across his broad shoulders, watching as his eyes shut in relaxation.

“i’m sorry, baby. what can i do to make it up to you?”

his eyes open, and you can see them sparkle with mischief. he flips the two fo you over so he’s hovering above you and brings his lips right by your ear.

“oh, i have a few ideas.” he whispers before capturing your lips in another kiss.

alright, so maybe the silent treatment wasn’t such a bad thing...

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @shherlxck @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 02 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Confessions:

You're up when Bruce comes, a tray in his hand, resting your back against the headboard, playing with your hair.

“Aren't you scared?” You ask him as he locks the door and puts the keys in his pocket.

“Scared of what? You?”

“Of the information I have now. Do you have any idea how many people would pay me to know who's the man behind the bat's mask?” As you speak, Bruce puts the tray on the nightstand. A sandwich and orange juice. You can't remember the last time you ate something so... Normal.

“What? Don't you like orange juice?”

“No, I...” The memories fill your head, like a flood. Tied up to the bed, people hovering over you. But you push it all back. You're a criminal, as dangerous as the Joker or Harley, your beloved sister. You're used to such treatments, and you don't care. “Won't you put all of it in a blender, then feed it to me through a straw? Put it on my nose and push it all the way down to my stomach.” You can't help but laugh at Bruce's face. Disgust, perplexity. “Oh, chill. That's nothing I can't deal with.”

“Haven't you noticed it yet? That I won't hurt you? Or treat you like an animal?”

“Well, you are keeping me here. Against my will. A golden prison is still a prison.” You're trying not to let the food get your attention, but you're starving. And the fact that it's real food makes it even harder.

“I'm only keeping you here because I know that if I set you free, you'll go back to your old life. And will probably end up in Belle Reve again.” Bruce gestures at the tray. “Eat, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.” Taking the tray, you place it on your lap, leaving the glass on the nightstand. Controlling yourself, you take a small bite, trying not to let it show how good it tastes. It feels weird to chew again, almost unnatural.

“I have to say a few things, so pay attention.” Bruce starts, eyes on you. “I'm aware they had you... Sedated... in Belle Reve. And from now on you won't be taking anything else then what I judge necessary. So you'll feel the reactions of the detoxification.”

“I will need painkillers. Heavy stuff.” You tell him in between bites.

“Are you hurt?”

Laying half of the sandwich down, you put the tray away, getting on your knees. “Wanna see how's the skin of a Belle Reve's intern?” Smiling, you lift your shirt, showing him your belly, stomach and ribs. You look down too, eyes observing the pattern of purple bruises, all over your skin. When you look at Bruce again, you don't understand the his expression. It looks like he cares, but there is no reason for him to do so. He's a hero, and you're the villain, his only job is to put you down. He's not supposed to care. “Don't look so surprised, Bruce. I'm used to it. I'm constantly high, so the pain is distant, numbed. Without what they give me... It will hurt.”

“Finish your sandwich.” He simply says, looking away and pacing around.

You decide to obey him just because it does taste good. The juice too. When you're done, you lay the tray back on the nightstand. “So... What now?”

He seems troubled, nervous. “Come and sit here.” He gestures at the armchair. Rolling your eyes, you do as he says. He's seated before you, and you feel like you're in a therapy session.

“May the interrogation begin,” you mutter, crossing your legs and arms.

“I want you to be honest. I just want to understand you.”

“What do you think you can get from that?” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean forward. You try to read him, to understand why is he doing this. Then you remember that he wants to prove a point. “Oh, I just remembered. I'm your project. Your lab rat.” What else could you be in the house of one of the heroes?

“Wouldn't you like to be able to have a normal life? A job you like, your own place, coming and going as you please?”

“I had all that before being thrown into hell on Earth.” As you speak, you feel your head spinning. Is it the detox working on already? You feel a fog in the back of your mind, and you feel your muscles relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. This is not detoxification, this is something else. “What did you gave me?”

“Just something to make you tell me the truth.”

Laughing, you bite your lip. “You're amazing, I have to say.” Your mind is slower, you feel it. You wonder if your body is slower too, or if you could try to escape again. But Bruce is on high alert, you can see it. His eyes never leave you, watching your every move.

“How was your life? Childhood.”

“I know you read my files, Bruce Wayne. Ask something you don't know.” You hate feeling numb. Hugging your knees, you close your eyes shut, trying to shake away the feeling.

“I want to hear it from you.” His voice is distant, like an echo. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? To be awake, fully in control of yourself, your words and feelings... “I'm just trying to help you, and to do that, I need you to be honest. And since I didn't know if you'd cooperate, I had to give you-”

“You're only giving me what you judge necessary, right?” You hiss, face hidden on your knees. “Ask away, Batman. My life is an open book to you and to anyone who thinks to be better than me just because they have the upper hand.”

“Both my parents were killed in front of me when I was a kid.” Bruce bursts out, and it makes you look at him immediately. “I saw their dead bodies, the blood... That night is still a vivid memory, it never leaves me.”

You don't know what he expects you to say. You don't have good memories with your parents to say that you know how he feels. “Bad mother. Dead father, never met him. Harley left home early so I was left alone to deal with a drug addict mother. High School was nice, but that was when I started going out with Harley. Late night parties, dangerous people. I started to learn things, to enjoy those things... Then I knew I wanted that life. It was easy money, easy fun, and people respected me because I was under Harley's protection and she was under the Joker's protection.” It comes out, it doesn't matter if you want it or not. “The story of my life.”

“In the first two years of High School, your grades were high. In senior year, they started to drop. Was that because of your sister?”

“Yeah. I just wanted it to be over, and when I managed to graduate, I left home to be with Harley. But soon enough I built my own place, my own empire, and I didn't need her anymore.” This thing he gave you really works because you're not saying the words you want to.

“Why did you enjoy doing what your sister did?”

“It was so fun... So... Dangerous. The adrenaline is addicting and I never really... I never really...” You bite your tongue, holding it back. You tell yourself to be strong, to get a grip of reality, that you can beat whatever is affecting your mind.

“You never really what?”

You're breathing fast, wondering how long until this damn drug is out of your system.

“You never really what?" Bruce repeat, his voice soft and low.

“I never really had anything else. Anyone else.” It comes out, fast and heavy. “My father died when I was a baby, my mother was a damn drug dealer who made the mistake of tasting her product and I had to keep the few friends I had away from my messed up life and the only way to do that was to push them the hell away.” You feel dizzy, covering your head with both hands. “The more time I spent with Harley and her crew, the more I learned, the more fearless I became and the more they respect me. They feared me.” Why can't you stop talking? Your body isn't trying to get rid of the drug, but it's still absorbing it, making it run through your veins to fulfill its purpose. “I didn't need their kindness, their love, their affection because I could have their fear. I had them do as I said when I said it because they were scared of me. That's the only thing I know!” You're yelling, leaning forward to face Bruce. “I can't be rehabilitated because I don't even know what it's supposed to be like. People don't care about me and I don't care about them. People don't love me, and I don't love them. People aren't kind to me so I won't ever be kind to them. They only do something for me because I have a gun pointed at their faces or because they know I can snap my fingers and have them hurt. This is who I am! This is the mess, the chaos that I am and you're an idiot if you think you can fix me!”

You don't care anymore. You just need to get the hell out of this place. The key is in his pocket, so you attack him. You aim a punch to his face knowing he'll grab your wrist, and when he does, you use the opening to his stomach to kick him hard. You're thrown away, colliding to the side of the bed, but you don't stop to pay attention to the sharp pain on your side. Bruce is standing up now, but his size doesn't scare you. You've fought men like him before. You're used to have a gun, but being unarmed won't make you step down.

Using all your strength, you push his chest hard, succeeding to place a punch in his jaw. He doesn't move much, but it's enough to give you the opportunity to kick his crotch. But Bruce sees what's coming, kicking your leg away and from under you, what sends you hard to the ground. You lay on your arm, and a sharp pain spreads through your left shoulder. Your body isn't working as it usually does. It's slower, it's hurting... The damn drugs they gave you are wearing off. You need to get out of here before they're out of your system.

When Bruce steps closer, you move up to grab his arm, pulling him down as you kick both his legs with all the strength you still have. He collapses the floor beside you, and you take the chance to punch his face again.

“That's enough.” He yells, grabbing both your wrists with one hand, and a groan escapes your lips when he squeezes them to push them away from his face. You're moving to kick his ribs with your knee, but you're lifted up suddenly. You feel pure agony as you violently try to set free. Bruce uses his free hand to grab your legs and throw you on the bed. You're ready to set in motion again, but you're caught off guard by a wave of pain.

You start counting mentally. This is the second day here. It means three days ago you were in your cell, and you remember them injecting the medication. They still wanted you to sleep. But you also remember the slight discomfort that you started feeling a week ago. As if your body was more awaken then usual. It's not like they don't want you to be in pain, they just want you to keep functional, so you can endure more pain without being motionless in a bed for days.

“How long... How long did you have them reduce my drugs?” You ask him, catching your breath.

“Nine days.” He simply answers, fixing his clothes.

“I need something for the pain.” You touch your left shoulder with the right hand, closing your eyes shut. “Shit.”

“Let me see it.” Bruce comes closer, and you open your eyes to see if he'll try anything. He bends over, pulling the arm away from your body. You wince, biting back a groan. “A subluxation.” He pushes your shoulder back, and you hear a crack before a new wave of pain spreads through your arm.

“What the hell?” You exclaim, pushing him away with the other arm.

“It was just a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint. But it's back on its place now, you will be fine.”

“I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me,” you mumble, breathing fast, still holding your shoulder.

“Are you kidding me? Am I supposed to be let you beat me? Because I know what you're capable of.”

“Are you scared of me? You. Six feet tall, a mountain of muscles. What? Can't you take a beating from me?” He can. “I can take a beating from you, hero. I've been taking beatings for a year now, on a regular basis.” You have to push the memories away before they flood your mind. The numbness from the medication makes it worse since you're awake to feel the hit, but the body isn't. You know it hurts, that it'll hurt later, but you keep being hurt. Over and over again, non stop. “I asked them to stop once, during my first week there. Do you know why they were beating me that day?” You stand on your knees, holding your left arm close to your body. Your stomach burns and you feel tears in your eyes, but you hold them back. Tears won't get you anywhere, anger will.

“Because you attacked someone." Bruce seems so sure of it, that it makes you laugh.

“I demanded a coat. A damn coat because it was cold!” You're yelling, fighting back the tears, laughing instead. “I asked them to stop, big mistake. It only made it worse. From that day on I decided to just take it. To endure it because that's what I deserve.” Lifting your shirt to show him the bruises, you feel one single tear rolling down. “See this? I survived through every single one of these.” Why are you crying? You don't cry. Clenching your fist, you bring it against your ribs hard, and the pain that follows is greater than you expected. You gasp, falling forward.

“Stop it." Bruce takes both your wrists, pushing you to lie down “If you do this again, I'll chain you up.”

“Don't worry about me,” you mutter, smiling. “I can take this.”

“I don't care if you can take this, I don't want you hurting yourself.”

“I don't need to hurt myself, everyone else does it for me.” Your voice is weak, and you look away from him. Bruce let's go of your wrists but doesn't move. He's seated on the bed, right beside you.

“I know it's hard for you to understand it, but as long as you're here, nobody will hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

With a hand on your forehead, you avoid his stare. “If it was the other way around... If I kidnapped and kept you in a room, locked... You'd be scared too. You would know I was going to hurt you.”

“It's true. But I didn't kidnap you.” You feel when he stands up, watching as he pulls the armchairs back to their places. “I choose you because I want to help you. If this works, I might get you a pardon. You would be free.”

“I admire your hope, Bruce Wayne, but you just don't understand. I don't know how to deal with people anymore. The only relationship I know is the ones where I give an order and it is obeyed. Anything other than that doesn't exist. Not for me. I'm a criminal, I meant to be hated.” You're not proud of this, not now. There's a part of you, deep down inside, that wish it could change. If only you could go back in time and change things... But now it's too late. You are who you are, the person you built yourself to be. “Give up. Throw me back into Belle Reve before I get used to nice baths and comfortable beds.”

“I'll see you tonight.” He says before leaving the room, and you sigh to hear the door locking.

You're used to the loneliness. Turning off the lights and closing the curtains, you lay in the darkness. You follow the logic of Belle Reve. Since there's nothing to do, there's no reason to keep the lights on. Darkness is where you belong, they say, then live in it. And so you do.

You have a good notion of the time passing, so you count the minutes, one by one. There's no way to know where you'll be tomorrow, if Bruce will accept the fact that this is stupid and send you back. But maybe it's for the best.

No, you have to focus. An opportunity. This is an opportunity to escape, and you need to take it. You can't let anything else get your attention, or distract you. You have to use this chance to go back home. To the only dirty, cold place you can call that.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 22

As Nelly washed her face and braided her hair that night, she could scarcely believe that the weekend was almost over. It had been a happy blur of fishing, bridge lessons, walks in the woods, songs under the stars, and tonight a campfire and a ukulele concert after a dinner of wheat cakes and maple syrup. And of course, not a trivial amount of that time had been passed in bed with Buster. As she’d spent those blissful hours with him, time zipped by without her noticing. 

Buster was humming to himself from the other room and Nelly wondered if the weekend had gone the way he’d expected. She wondered, not the first time, what had he expected. From the way he was behaving, he seemed cheerful and serene, but she wasn’t sure. Men were mysterious. Tomorrow he would go back to his wife and she would return to being a cog in the United Artists machine.

Before leaving the washroom, she brushed her teeth. She was half-tempted to shed her chemise and knickers ahead of bed; they always ended up torn off in the middle of the night anyway.

In the other room, Buster was sitting up in bed with the blankets pulled over his lap and her little red book in his hands, paging through Mistress Nell Gwyn. She felt a flush of embarrassment and regretted not bringing a more serious book along.

“Are you reading it ‘cause the main girl’s called Nelly?” he said, looking up at her.

Her face warmed as she checked the lock to the front door and turned off the floor lamp near the kitchen. “No, I like Marjorie Bowen and I hadn’t read this one yet. The name’s just a coincidence.” And it was, truly. “What do you read?” she said to switch the subject. They’d gotten around to discussing their favorite music (they both liked Bix Beiderbecke, Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five, and Paul Whiteman), but not their favorite books. 

Buster looked slightly abashed as she switched off the table lamp by the sofa. “Does Popular Mechanics count?”

“Well, not as far as novels go,” she said, crossing the room and lifting the corner of the sheets on her side of the bed to slide in next to Buster. 

“I read a dime novel once and awhile. Mostly don’t have the time,” said Buster. “But your book—she’s sweet on old King Charlie?”

Nelly took the book from him, amused. “King Charles II,” she corrected. 

“Why d’ya like it?” said Buster. He burrowed deeper into the covers and snuggled against her shoulder like a boy wanting a bedtime story. 

“I like novels based on real things. I get a history lesson and the people from back then feel more real.”

“Did you see my picture The General?” asked Buster.

“Of course,” said Nelly. Her memory of the film wasn’t very strong, but she knew that she had enjoyed it quite a lot and remembered gasping with the rest of the audience at his daring stunts on the train. She seemed to recall that she found him good-looking with his long hair and sober looks, but apparently not so good-looking that she’d felt compelled to write him a mash note or glue his picture into her scrapbook like she had with John Barrymore.

“Now that picture, you see, was based on real facts. And the train was really called the General!” Buster launched into the story of the Great Locomotive Chase of 1862, and Nelly listened with contentment to his animated retelling. He talked all about the production of the picture, having to find narrow-gauge railroad tracks, learning how to operate a steam engine, hiring the National Guard to play soldiers, and playing baseball near the Willamette Valley. “I thought it was my finest picture but the critics all blasted it. Said it was a flop. I haven’t been able to make sense of it. Guess they thought I should leave the serious acting to types like your fellow, John Barrymore.”

“He’s not my fellow, Buster,” Nelly chided. She ran her fingers idly through his dark hair.

“What happened to being his leading lady?” he said, kissing her bare upper arm.  

“Oh, don’t tease me for being romantic when I didn’t know him. I didn’t know what he was really like. Didn’t I tell you? When I was in Tempest, he came right into the ladies room and pissed in the sink right in front of me. And if that wasn’t enough, he picked his nose right in front of me too! He was so drunk he couldn’t tell left from right. I had to help him back to Mr. Taylor.”

Buster laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Gosh, I wish I was. He kept us there all night he was so drunk. They had to build a sort of carousel for Camilla Horn and him to finish their ballroom dance.” Thinking of Tempest, Nelly was reminded of something that had been on her mind since her hours with Buster had begun to draw to a close. “I want to say something serious to you now though.”

Buster, to his credit, didn’t try to make a joke. “What’s that?”

“In the book”—for a second, Nelly lifted the red volume that lay between them—“Nell Gwyn is just an orange seller at the playhouse. One night, King Charles invites her to a tavern with his friends Rochester and Buckingham. He remembers seeing her before and likes her. While they’re eating and drinking, he asks what she means to do with her life and she says that she wants to be an actress. Then she dances for him and he leaves her a pair of silver shoes as a gift because she pays for his food and drink. You think that he’s going to see to it that she becomes an actress, but he doesn’t. He has his own matters to worry about and goes on with his life, but she becomes a successful actress on her own—I’m only halfway through of course—and anyhow that’s how he notices her again. He goes to a play and she’s starring.”

“Oh yeah?” said Buster, obviously not understanding. 

“Well, what I’m saying is I appreciate you putting in a word for me with Mr. Taylor, but if you want to continue seeing me …”

Here she paused. It was a brave thing to say aloud because she didn’t know, not for certain, if Buster did want to see her after he dropped her back off at her apartment tomorrow. It wasn’t just false modesty. For all she knew, he had getaways with girls all the time, a new one for every weekend. His waywardness with women had, after all, been one of the first things she’d heard about him back in River Junction: all a girl had to do to seduce him was walk into his dressing room. 

“I don’t want any more favors and I won’t ask for any. I don’t want to play angles anymore. In fact, I prefer to try it on my own in the future, getting parts that is, just to see if I can, if I’m good enough to make it without help. Like Nell Gwyn was.” She let out a deep breath, afraid of his reaction.

“I think that’s fine,” he said, putting a hand on her jaw and turning her head to his so he could kiss her lips. His expression registered no displeasure. “Only I never talked to Sam Taylor. You did that one on your own. Honest.”

Nelly could hardly believe it.“Really?” she said, scanning his eyes to see if he was being truthful. 

“ ‘Course not. Had nothing to do with me,” he said.

“Oh. Well…” said Nelly, feeling silly.

“I’ll make a note. No angles, no favors. I’ll let you go it alone like your Nell Gwyn.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Tell me what happens next in your book, though.”

Feeling that a weight had been lifted, Nelly went on. “Well, the King sees Nell at a play and as soon as he notices her silver shoes, he remembers who she is.”

“Then what?” said Buster, caressing her hand. 

“I don’t know. Then she becomes his mistress,” Nelly said. She felt embarrassed to admit that she read such books.

“Did he have a queen?”

“Oh yes, Queen Catherine, the one who got the British to start drinking tea, but she doesn’t get much mention in the book. Mrs. Bowen’s more concerned with his mistresses. He had about a dozen. There’s the Countess of Castlemaine and Moll Davis, who’s another actress. Nelly was just one, but she was the most loyal.” She looked down to where Buster was holding her hand in his and rubbing it with a thumb, and wondered what he was thinking about her foolish taste in novels. 

“Will you be my mistress?”

Nelly turned her face to him, stunned. For a moment, she thought it was just one of his many jokes. One look at the beseeching expression on his face told her it wasn’t. Such waves of happiness and consternation struck her then that it was several seconds before she could answer. “Yes,” she said. There could hardly be another answer. And yet even as she consented, she thought of the Countess of Castlemaine, Moll Davis, and the Duchess of Portsmouth.  

“You got this look on your face,” said Buster.

“Do I?” she said, feeling flustered. 

“Yeah. A look that’s telling me you got something on your mind you ain’t telling me.”

Now that they were being so honest, she couldn’t deny him the real answer, even though it was preposterous to ask for faithfulness from a man who was already someone else’s husband.

“Well, are there others?” she said, searching his eyes. 

“Other what?” said Buster, cocking his head a little. “Mistresses? No.” He squeezed her hand. “Now I ain’t going to lie, I’ve had steadies before, not what you’d call mistresses exactly, but cross my heart I haven’t been with a girl in months. Are you asking if I’ll be true to you?”

Nelly looked away. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, but reminded herself she was trying to be honest. “I suppose I am and it’s the silliest thing to ask. I know you’re married. I’m not asking you to… Well, I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. Maybe I’m a little jealous, not about your wife, but about other girls because I—I like you already.” She looked back at him, fearing his reaction, but he was only regarding her in the same interested way he had when she’d relayed the plot of her book. “Please don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way, I know it seems like I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth,” she said hurriedly. “And I don’t expect you to keep me either like King Charles keeps Nelly, with satin and pearls and houses. Oh, I’m sorry for making this such a muddle. All I should have said was yes. I just want to be pals like we’ve been this weekend. I know it’s not right to ask.”

“ ‘Course we’ll stay pals,” said Buster. “And I promise no satin and pearls. I can still buy you dinner, can’t I?” 

Nelly laughed, her spirits feeling lighter. “Of course you can. I just don’t want to be a kept woman, okay? You can still do all the normal stuff a fellow would.”

Buster’s hand found its way down the front of her chemise and she pulled in a sharp breath as he rolled his finger lightly around the perimeter of her nipple. “Like this?”

She nodded, her eyes closing as his thumb joined the finger and pinched with gentle pressure. Her mind went back to the sight of him between her legs in the forest, his dark messy hair that he’d stopped slicking down with Brilliantine during the course of the weekend, and she groaned at the memory. She rolled onto her side, Buster’s hand still busy at her breast, and slid her hand beneath the brim of his pajama trousers.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” she said, grasping the warm, silky length of him. 

Buster shifted onto his side. “Yeah, you’ve been teaching me something about efficiency.” He gave a wince of pleasure as she began to move her hand up and down. He withdrew his hand from her chemise and put it in her knickers, and she felt as warm as she had in the sun on Saturday as his fingers began their clever work.

They exchanged pleasures like that for a couple minutes before Buster began tugging her chemise over her head. She unbuttoned his pajama shirt as he played with her breasts. It would be a terribly long time before she was ever bored by the way he tensed his stomach when she touched him, making all the muscles stand out like they were sculpted in marble. She pressed her breasts against her chest as she pulled his pajama shirt the rest of the way off of him, and Buster began wrestling her knickers down. When they were all the way undressed, both still lying on their sides, Nelly put her leg over him.

“Let’s try it without,” she whispered, as Buster kissed her neck and ear. It was a crazy thing to ask, but she was beyond thinking straight. 

“What, without a thin?” he said with surprise. 

“I think it’d be okay. If you pull out before--” She blushed. “I want to see how it feels without it.”

Buster kissed her forehead once, twice, three times in obvious gratitude. “Alright.” 

Nelly shifted herself lower and guided him into her with a hand. For a few moments, Buster was perfectly still. Nelly breathed deeply, feeling him without a barrier for the first time and jubilant with the sensation, as well as the weight of his proposal. A mistress. 

He made love to her more slowly than he had on previous occasions, pausing for long stretches to kiss her, then grasping her backside to push himself deeper. Eventually, the slow pace sent her into such a frenzy that she took control of the rhythm. He caught on and went faster. When every muscle on him stood out again as if sculpted, she knew he was close. 

“Don’t forget to pull out,” she said, seeking his eyes. 

“I won’t,” he said breathlessly. He gave such a fierce, pleasurable thrust that she keened, and that caused him to withdraw suddenly and rock himself against her stomach until he came with a shuddering groan. 

She stroked his cheekbone when he was finished. His eyes had closed and his breathing was deep and satisfied. Buster Keaton’s mistress. She was so filled with the thought that she felt barely any guilt when she thought of his wife. It was, after all, easy to justify. He was not intimate with her; she had realized that when he mentioned that he slept alone. She had never forgotten his statement the night of his party either, that the marriage was headed for divorce. But there she cut off her thoughts. She was getting far too ahead of herself. It was enough that they had gotten on like a house on fire and that Buster was holding her in his arms now, smelling like sweat and cigarettes and himself. 

“Buster,” she said. She could tell he was starting to fall asleep.

“Mmmph,” said Buster. 

“We should set an alarm for tomorrow. My tram leaves at 6:45 and I’ve got to be at work around 7:30. We should get up at four so we have time to pack and so I can get ready.”

Buster rolled onto his back and cupped the crown of his head in his hands. “Don’t worry about the tram, I’ll drop you off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to get you into any trouble. If anyone sees us, they’ll talk,” she said. 

Buster opened one eye and lifted his eyebrow. “Let ‘em talk,” he said.

“Okay,” said Nelly, not quite knowing what to make of this attitude. 

Nell Gwyn had been no secret to King Charles II’s subjects, but somehow Nelly thought that Buster Keaton’s public would be less tolerant if he got into the habit of parading around a mistress. Nonetheless, she didn’t argue with him. As she cleaned his seed off of her in the washroom, she didn’t have a thought except for how happy she was when she was around him.

Note: Just a PSA that this is fiction and not an endorsement of the pull-out method (although Planned Parenthood notes that it is 96% effective if used correctly 100% of the time). Obviously it doesn't prevent STDs. You should always use protection with a new partner. ;)

[trillian-anders]

amor de mi vida - 1949

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3362

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

Sunset Park was ever growing with Hispanic population, in the years since you and your Mother came to New York the population had grown and people, while still not allowing certain people to mix, there was a little less of a stigma of someone brown walking down the street. Surprisingly enough the property you’d found was right across the street from the bodega where Bucky had first dragged you in trying to buy bread and the man refused you. It straddled the line of the Hispanic and white population in Brooklyn. 

It was the perfect spot. 

The upstairs level would be for sewing and crafting, the downstairs would house the shop and sales. Bucky and George painted the upstairs and downstairs, fit new light fixtures, and fixed the shoddy wiring that hadn’t been worked on, you were convinced, since electric light had been invented. 

“What do you think?” He asked, coveralls splattered with paint and sweat on his brow. You grin up at him, 

“I love it.” 

The women you’d been selling dresses to over the past few years now had somewhere to shop and you could sell more products standardly while offering tailoring services. A big, ‘EVERYONE WELCOME’ sign in the front window. Which means you had to hire more people. You stuck to hiring women, the women who wanted to work in your community.  

You figured things were going pretty well, until the first time you were vandalized. Broken glass and a clear message of not being welcome a month into opening. You couldn’t help but figure it might have something to do with the man across the street who seemed to remember your faces. 

He stood there now, arms crossed. Lips pressed so tight they almost disappeared from his face. You huff, trying not try cry as the girls help you sweep up the glass. You called Bucky, knowing he was home with the kids, from the back office. 

“The front window is shattered.” You couldn’t help but cry when you heard his voice. 

“Okay,” He sighed, you could hear Grant fussing in the background, “Let me call my Pa and I’ll see what we can do.” The police didn’t care, but George was the one who originally talked to the inspectors and bank having already started his own business before. 

He had someone out in an hour to fix the window and to install new, easier to pull down, grate for them. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, he’d finally got the kids to sleep. The excitement of Mama coming home and a quick dinner had been followed by a carefully orchestrated bath and bedtime routine. Now it was just the two of you, and the bottle of wine you’d opened. 

“We are very lucky,” You start, “In New York they haven’t banned us being together, they segregate, sure, but we have a good amount of people who believe in integration. We don’t have a lot of problems with prejudice so sometimes I forget.” His hand met the back of your neck, massaging. “It’s just a little bit of a wake-up call.” 

He shrugs, “I thought that now Jackie Robinson was playing for the Dodgers that people would be a little more accepting.” You glare at him and he laughs. “If we are being honest here...” Bucky sighs, taking a sip from his glass, “I worry about our kids.” He leans further into the couch, “I worry all the time about the day we have to send Jaime to school, I worry about them playing outside. I worry about things happening to you and the kids when I’m not here.” 

People respected Bucky Barnes. He was a war hero, right hand man to Captain America himself. You lost count of the amount of times you’d take the kids for a walk and be stopped. Women wanting his autograph and men wanting to thank him for his service to the country. There was a level of protection there. It was possible that it was keeping you and your children safe. Not out of the realm of thought. Especially when you were actually with him out. 

Without him was tight smiles and folks crossing the street to avoid you, like you were some kind of threat to them. 

You lay your legs on his lap, wordlessly asking him to rub your aching feet. You’d worked the floor all day, first cleaning up glass and then helping with customers and you did four fittings in the afternoon. He drains his glass and begins to rub your stocking clad feet. 

“How was the shop today besides the window?” Thumbs digging into the sole of your foot you moan, letting your head roll back against the armrest of the couch. 

“Good, we sold ten dresses.” He switched to a different foot, “I think Amara and Rosalyn are a little more than friends.” He pauses, looking at you. 

“Like?” You nod. 

“Huh.” He shrugs, “That makes a lot more sense.” The two women, your first employees, told you they moved in together to save money and were tired of living in the boarding house. With their savings they bought a cute little property not far from the store. They also adopted a few animals. 

“What did you think?” He shakes his head, 

“I just thought they were strange.” They always seemed so fidgety, like they were doing something suspicious when you weren’t in the room, but it would make sense of having the fear of getting caught. An interracial marriage some could be okay with, but a same-sex marriage? That was a whole different story. 

His fingers danced their way up your skirt, to your hose, removing the stay ups slowly, keeping eye contact, while massaging your foot with his other hand his fingers slipped under the hose and rolled the first one down your leg. Then the other. 

“I missed you today.” He whispered, kissing your ankle. “We all missed you today.” He tapped your leg, tugging gently on your thigh to get you to sit up, straddling his lap. His erection was already straining against his trousers. You ground yourself against him, meeting his lips. His hands held your hips, moving you against him enough to tease. “It’s so sexy,” He whispers, going for the button on his slacks, you lift up, shimmying your panties off and tossing them to the side. “You're going off to work,” A breathy kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as you press kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. “You’re so talented dahlin.” He groaned as you sunk down onto him, rocking your hips with his hands. “So fucking talented.” 

“Te quiero mucho.” Kisses wet and sloppy as you muffle your moans against his lips. His hand held the back of your neck, body slipping down to hover his hips off the couch, bringing your body close to his in order to thrust upward into you. Mouth pressed tightly to keep quiet while you came, fingers dipping between your thighs to strum your clit, riding out the pleasure while Bucky’s hips stuttered with release. 

“I love you too sweetheart.” Erection staying stiff inside you. He breathes and lets you collapse on top of him before sighing, “We forgot to use a rubber.” 

And just like that, pregnant again. 

You pretended to be hateful. “This is all your fault.” But Bucky just laughed. “You planned this.” Grant crawled over his shoulder, going to tumble down his back, letting Bucky catch him before he falls, laughing and doing it again. Dia and Jaime were playing with the new dollhouse she’d received for her birthday. A present that ‘Santa’ brought her, but was really bought from Macy’s and you didn’t even want to ask Winnie how much it cost. 

This pregnancy was a little rougher than the last three. You felt sick constantly and the ginger mints only did so much, aside from the fact that you started showing almost immediately. Your feet were swollen from working at the store and a rushed doctor visit was needed after you’d started spotting. 

“Bed rest.” Was what the doctor said, you’d huffed indignantly. The last three pregnancies you’d lived normally up until the day they were born and the doctor had the nerve to tell you that it was because you were older now. You weren’t even thirty yet. 

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried to calm you down after you cursed the Doctor, “He’s an asshole, but if he’s recommending bed rest, you should probably rest.” So the keys to the shop were handed over to Amara and Rosalyn. 

“I hate this.” You grumbled, the kids were a mess today, and you felt very stressed. You couldn’t do anything right for Jaime, Dia seemed to want nothing to do with you, and Grant was throwing a tantrum over a soft breeze. “When are you coming home?” You could hear him pause on the other end, 

“About an hour left and I should be on my way.” The longest hour of your life. 

The sickness, the bleeding, the swollen feet. You’d been blessed with twins by the way your belly was measuring. “You did this.” And Bucky laughed. 

You sat in Peggy’s kitchen, snacking on a cheese plate she layed out for the two of you, grumbling about it. 

“He doesn’t know what it’s like.” Peggy, radiant as ever, nods in understanding, “In the seven years of our marriage I’ve been pregnant for four of them. The other three he was gone.” Every year you’d been together resulting in pregnancy. Jaime and Dia within months of each other. Grant a little while after that, and then a break in between him and now. “I love my kids,” You defend, “But you’ll understand when you have them.” You sigh, rubbing your belly, “It’s difficult.”

“I’m not sure Steve and I are ready quite yet.” She laughs, “Our work is dangerous,” She wasn’t joking. You knew their apprehensions, you felt them every time Bucky walked out the door. You weren’t sure if he was coming home or not, every time. “But I’m living vicariously through you in the meantime.” The playpen was set up in the living room, the three kids in view of you, playing quite loudly to the noise of the radio. The boys were out back, fixing loose shingles on the roof. 

“You can take one if you want,” You joke, arching your back trying to relieve some of the pain. Bucky stepped inside behind Steve, grabbing a drink from the fridge he lays a sweaty kiss on your cheek before going over to the chorus of Papa from their sitting room. Dia was the one who wanted his attention the most, her little feet climbing up on the gate and reaching her arms out to him while Grant and Jaime quickly lost interest as the noise from the radio changed. Bucky picked her up and brought her over to where you were sitting, handing her a piece of cheese to nibble on. 

“You trying to sell our kids?” He asked.

“I’m trying to give them away for free.” Another kiss to your head and a hand on your belly. 

“Baby.” Dia said. Pointing to your stomach. 

“That’s right mija,” You smiled, “You want to feel the baby?” She nods, chewing on a finger. Bucky sits her on your lap, your sweet girl’s hair was finally growing, the soft brown curls done back with a bow, she put her hands on your tummy.

“Big belly.” She whispers, tapping on your stomach. 

“There’s two babies in there mija.” She scrunches her nose, tapping on your belly again before reaching beside you for some more cheese. Bucky takes down the gate for the playpen, the other kids coming around to snack on cheese. Jaime whining to come up into your lap as well, Grant behind him. Peggy picks up Grant, settling him in her lap. Bucky taking Dia for you to let Jaime snuggle up into your lap. His body curled around your tummy, thumb in his mouth. 

“Who would have ever thought.” Steve mused, “I thought you were crazy for chasing her the way you did.” Bucky chasing you, ten years ago now. So young and naive. 

“I thank God every day that I did.” He grins at you and you could almost see the way he looked when he was seventeen, when he ran into you on the street and dragged you into a shop you knew you wouldn’t be allowed in. 

You smile back, “Me too.” When Bucky leans in for a kiss Jaime groans and pushes him away, pulling you to him and making you give him a kiss on his forehead instead. 

“Mama.” He whines, “I’m hungry.” You give Bucky a look.

“Alright mijo, let's get you something to eat.” 

Something was wrong next door. The only reason you knew that was because the house was quiet today. Bucky had taken the kids to his parent’s house so you could nap, so you heard the shouting clear as day. You slipped out of bed, and walked to the bedroom window, the window facing the side of Martha Green’s house. The shouting was loud, almost frightening. Your hand fumbled with the bedside phone, dialing quickly. 

“James,” You rest a hand on your belly, still looking out at the house, but their blinds were shut, “Something is happening next door, I think he’s hurting her.” There was a blood curdling scream you were sure he could hear, 

“Call Steve,” He said, “I’m on my way.” 

Steve didn’t answer, you placed the phone in the cradle and heard another scream. Waddling down the stairs, you knew it would take Bucky thirty minutes to get home. Another call to Steve, another unanswered call. 

You could hear glass break. And you called the police. But how far out were they? You could hear her screaming and crying. There was a gun by the front door that felt heavy in your hands, shaking and nerves you walked outside, to her house and up the stairs. You knocked on the front door, hard. 

There was a pause in noise, the gun heavy in your hand, hidden in the pocket of your house dress. The front door ripped open. You’d seen Martha’s husband a number of times and you believed Bucky when he said he didn’t think that he treated her very well. There was a wild look in his eyes and behind the small crack he opened you could see the shattered remains of what must have been their china cabinet. 

You swallow nervously, but quickly ask, “Is Martha here? I uh… I came to return this.” In a quick moment of clarity you’d grabbed the glass dish you’d left by the front door that you’d asked Bucky to take back to Winnie, you thanked God he was forgetful in that moment. His jaw was tight and he looked down at the casserole dish in your hand. 

His grip was rough on the dish, yanking it from your hand, “I’ll be sure to give it to her.” You see movement in the background, Martha. The two children hiccuping in tears as she ushered them in the closet under the stairs. You could see the bruises blooming on her face. “Is there anything else you need?” 

“I would just like to talk to her.” You found some firmness. 

“I’m sure she would not like to talk to you.” And you knew why. A spit at your feet. Your jaw clenched, your ears listened for sirens but you couldn’t hear any. It felt like it had been twenty minutes but you knew it had only been maybe five. 

“Martha!” You called behind him. His hand quickly shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the house. 

“You nosy fucking bitch.” Your back met the hallway wall, fingers fumbling for your gun. You quickly pulled it and aimed it at his chest. He looked startled and backed away. 

“Martha.” You could see her out of the corner of your eyes, “Grab the kids and go to my house.” She was frozen in the doorway, the anger from her husband clear on his face. “Go!”

You were shaking, which was a mistake, he rushed you. You fired the gun but it missed, the bullet embedding itself in the wall above his shoulder. He quickly grabbed your arm and brought a fist down on your face. You fired the gun again, clipping him on his arm. Screaming as you fell, hands coming to protect your belly as you fell. The gun spun out from your grip. 

Martha’s husband, the big hulking man he is, stepped over you and grabbed the gun, pointing it in your face. You gasp, coming back onto your knees, eyes springing with tears. 

“You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits, pulling the hammer back. You’ve made a mistake. Your heart in your throat you grab your belly. 

“You’re a fucking coward.” It springs from your throat before you can help it. His upper lip curling, his finger tenses on the trigger. But before he could pull it you see a flash of metal, Bucky’s hand going to grab his wrist with the gun and in one instant, disarms him and the gun, flinging the piece of metal to the side he wraps his arm around Martha’s husband’s neck, bringing him to the ground. 

When he arrived home he found a bruised and beaten Martha sitting in his den, her two sobbing kids beside her. When she told him where you were, his heart dropped. He felt like he was going to be sick. He snuck through the back door and came into the hallway through their den. Stopping the man about to take his wife away from him. 

“What were you thinking?” He would yell later. Crying. Both of you. “I told you to call Steve.”

“I did.” You were blubbery, “He didn’t answer.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning back to you and sighing heavily.

“Come here baby,” A tight hug to his chest, “I’m sorry. You were so brave, I’m sorry.” Hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried. “Please, never do that again.” You’d talked to the police, Bucky backing your story and telling them what he’d done. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

The next day Martha showed up on your doorstep, an apology pie in hand. “I just wanted to say thank you,” She was looking at her shoes. You stepped aside, inviting her in. Settled down at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee she continues, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me yesterday.” A rough swallow, “He almost killed you.” Her blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. “I’m sorry I was so jealous of seeing how your husband treated you.” Her lips swollen with bitten worry, “And I used race as an excuse to treat you poorly and for that I apologize.” Her hands shaking, you reach over to comfort her. 

“I forgive you,” a mutual cry between new friends. “Listen,” You scribble down your number on the pad by the phone. “If you need help you can always call, James’ work…”

“I know what he does.” She thumbs the paper. “He’s a good man.” You smile softly, 

“Yeah, he is.” You muse at the thought,

Ten long years have led to this. Five children and an ever passionate love between the two of you that, at first, you thought was a simple infatuation that would pass with time. But he loved you, he married you. He helped you create five beautiful children and you couldn’t help but love him endlessly for that. 

He’s shown you how intensely he loves. Every single day. And doesn’t relent, even when things had gotten a little hard. You admire him for that, and know that he was true in every sense of the word. 

His love was all consuming and with every kiss he lay on your lips the relationship between you grew more solid. 

He truly was the love of your life. 

And you were his. 

.

.

.

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[horrorkingdom]

The Satellite Images

A friend of mine showed me how to use Google Maps. I'm sure you've seen it. It lets you use satellite images to look at locations all over the world. A few years ago, I was in a car accident. Since then, I really don't leave the house that often. It's difficult, and the idea of a seeing a car drive by me makes me feel lightheaded. I was fascinated by the fact that I could see all over the world, almost like being there. I could virtually walk down the streets, and it almost felt like I was really there.

I became instantly hooked. It gave me a real eye on the world. I could go to almost any major city, and I did. I'd seen streets in China, Japan, Germany, and England... so many places. I'd even gone to tourist attractions like the Great Barrier Reef and Dracula's castle.

My favorite was to go to random places in major cities and see how many people and animals I could find. The faces of the people were always blurred to protect their privacy, but it was still enjoyable to see them out there, enjoying their life, walking like it was no big deal.

"She must have good taste," I laughed.

I zoomed in closer and noticed the grey bag she carried on a grey and purple shoulder strap. She was walking in a relaxed manner, one hand trailing the wall beside her. I bet if I could have seen her face, I would see that she was smiling. I began to feel a little sad. I let my hands fall onto the arms of my wheelchair and looked at her for a minute more. I wished that I could be there, walking so carefree with her. That wouldn't happen though, until I died. I was stuck in this chair. I sighed and zoomed out of Tokyo. Enough of this for tonight. I turned off the computer and went to bed.

—

I got up early and decided to look around Paris. Paris was always fun. I liked the look of the city, with all of the old, beautiful buildings and so many people to watch. I randomly zoomed to an area and saw a street, lined with old brick buildings, a few small shops, and an old tan brick church. Ahead was an intersection, and dozens of people walked by. A balding businessman walked quickly past, looking back at an old woman, hair covered with a scarf, carrying a large purse. A curvy woman in black pants that were too tight stared into a store window, and two women led a group of small children around a corner.

I spun the view around a few more times, and then saw something peculiar. Sitting on the bench at the bus stop, were two people. One of them was a young woman with her feet stuck in front of her in a relaxed manner. She was wearing a pair of red sneakers, like my own. I was startled for a moment; as I noticed the black pants, white t-shirt, and black hooded jacket. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely behind her head. A grey bag sat on the bench beside her, the shoulder strap hooked over her shoulder.

"This is crazy," I thought. "It can't possibly be the same woman. This is a different country, different continent even. How could it be her?"

This was stupid. It wasn't as if these were live photographs. They were taken ahead of time and then stored. It's not like she was in two places at once. She could just be a traveler. Besides, without seeing her face, it was impossible to tell it was the same person. Brown hair was probably the most common hair color in the world. Those red sneakers were something I purchased online. I'm sure a million other people did too. I shook my head and went to fix some lunch.

When I got back online, I decided to look at Berlin. I picked a random street, as usual. It looked pretty empty. There were brick buildings lining the streets, looking more like factories than anything else. There were also empty lots, full of long grass and piled gravel. There wasn't much to see at all, really. There was a line of motorbikes and a car with two German flags sticking up from it. After more searching, I found one kid. He looked like he was dressed for school, a jacket thrown over his bag. He was intently looking at some kind of mobile device. I was disappointed. I started to leave, but then I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I turned the view, and there they were. Those damned red sneakers.

She was standing on a street corner, next to some kind of signpost. She had a hand on the post, looking down the street, as if waiting to cross the street. I stared, in shock. How could she be there too? Even if she was traveling, there's no way I would find her every time. Even finding her in Paris would have been one heck of a coincidence, but this? This was crazy. Was this some kind of joke? Had Google decided to play a prank on its users that used their product so much? It would have been a great joke...

I did a quick search, looking for a note about a woman that shows up like Waldo. There was nothing. I looked through articles on strange things you can see on Google Maps, but none of them mentioned the woman that travels the world with you. This was crazy. Had my self-imposed isolation driven me mad? Had I become so lonely that I created a hallucination for myself?

Leaving the Berlin image on my screen, I sent a text message to a friend, asking him to look at the locations. I asked him if he saw the same woman. Then I waited, hands sweating, heart thumping in my chest. I jumped when my phone beeped with a return text message, ten minutes later.

The text read, "I see the lady you're talking about in Berlin. I didn't see her in Paris or Tokyo. Is this some kind of game, or what? Are you okay?"

I didn't respond, instead returning to the locations in Tokyo and Paris. There she was. She was there, but it was different. She no longer sat on the bus-stop bench, in Paris. She was standing in front of it, looking for something in her bag. In Tokyo, she was blocks away, squatting down to pet that calico cat. I shivered. Who was she? What was happening?

I switched the map to Brussels. It was another city street. It was lined with old looking buildings, with shops on the ground level, and what I guessed was apartments above. I quickly scanned the streets. They were empty, other than a stocky woman in a bright blue sweater. I did a second sweep. She wasn't there. I sighed in relief. I couldn't believe I was getting so worked up about this.

It was nothing but a coinci-- I stopped, my eyes frozen on the screen. There was a building at the point of a fork in the road, white with a black-ironwork-framed balcony jutting from the second floor. I hadn't seen her, as I had been looking at the sidewalks. There she stood, standing on the balcony, her head tilted in the direction of the camera, almost like she was coyly looking toward me. My breath caught in my throat.

I switched to Sydney. She was leaning against the wall, inside the doorway of a bright blue Carricks Pharmacy building. London showed her getting ready to step onto a red double-decker bus, her head turned to look over her shoulder. She was everywhere I looked. She stood on a brick sidewalk on a bridge in Venice, she walked across a yellow barred crosswalk in Zurich; and in Hong Kong, and she stood between a Wing Lung Bank and a McDonald's adjusting the strap on her bag. In each picture, she came closer and closer to looking directly at me with her blurred out face.

My heart felt like a terrified bird, slamming around inside my chest. I couldn't catch my breath. I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't call the police. Should I send screenshots to Google?

I clenched my fists tightly and closed my eyes. Who was she? Was she following me? Was I following her? I wish I could see the expression on her face, know what she saw when she looked back at me. I wanted to get out of the chair and run. Why is it that the only thing that made me feel free again, was the thing that made me feel even more trapped? I had to know.

I typed in the name of my town and zoomed into a random street. It was a couple of miles from my house; the gates to the city park were shown in the clarity of daylight, despite it being night here. There she was. There... There she was. She was only a few miles from my house, standing under the ironwork arch that stated the name of the park. She looked directly at the camera, directly at me. I felt like I might throw up. She was near me, and she was watching me. She was coming for me. What did she want?

I typed in the name of the apartment complex where I live. I could see the outside of the building. The parking lot was full of cars, and there were a few blurred out children on the playground. I searched everywhere for her. She wasn't in the parking lot or on the sidewalks, not hiding between the buildings or standing in the playground. I even scanned each of the cars, behind the bushes, and each of the blurred windows. She wasn't there. I curled tightly around myself and lay my head down on the desk.

This place was safe. I didn't leave the apartment anyway. I would never use Google Maps again. I would never see her again. She could stay at the park for all I cared. I smiled to myself and was surprised to find a tear slipping down my face.

"I'm safe," I said to myself in a whisper. It felt good to hear it out loud. "I'm safe."

As I said it, there was a knock at the door. A chill ran down my spine. I had a camera hooked to my computer that showed who was at the front door, which made it easier for me, with my mobility issues. I slowly reached for the control to show myself who was outside, but my hand trembled furiously. As I touched the control, I realized my mistake. The last of Google's images that I'd seen had only shown the outside of the building. Just the outside.

I looked at the screen and saw a woman in a white t-shirt, black pants, black hooded jacket; and carrying a grey bag with a purple and grey striped shoulder strap. Of course, there were those red sneakers. She looked directly at the camera, her face still a complete blur. As I tried to stifle a scream, she raised a hand and knocked loudly on my front door.

[ms-rampage]

Eden's Gate: Left Behind Chapter 1 - Welcome to Hope County

A new series!!!. Take place 2 years before the events of Kidnapped.

I created "Hope County University" for this series, and a few other locations that aren't in the game. Because its all headcanon shit.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.9k

John Seed slightly out of character. (That's what happens when you encounter a Winchester 😂😂)

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

Hope County, Montana, February 2018

*Arizona by Hey Monday plays on the radio*

A black 1970 Monte Carlo with a small trailer attached to it drives down the road with an Arizona license plate on it "ARIZONA E34R90D". 

19 year old Kate Winchester, who just moved out of her aunt and uncle's house drove 7 hours from Jackson, Wyoming to Hope County, Montana. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel to song. 

Starting her new life, leaving the hunter life behind her, she applied and got accepted at Hope County University. 

Hoping to get her Master of Science degree in Psychology, and then move on to get her Doctorate Degree. 

Luckily her aunt and uncle were able to cover her tuition for the whole year. She even told them that she was willing to pay her own rent, and which surprisingly is only $750 a month. Hell her rent is cheaper here, than Arizona and Wyoming put together, but of course they're willing to pay for it, even though she refused, so she saves some money there.

She’s been attending college since she was 15 years old. She lied about her age to get a head start, with the help of her aunt Laura, and her grandmother Eliza. She attended community college in Wyoming before wanting to get transferred out of state.

She was able to rent out a small 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom house with a decent size backyard that is owned by the University, which is why the rent is pretty cheap usually it costs a lot more, and she also got a job at the University's café & diner with starting pay at $14.50. To her that seems very unrealistic but she’ll take it, she ain’t complaining. 

She drives down the road with her dog Haley in the passenger seat with her head out the window trying to bite the wind as they drive down the road.

"Smell that fresh Montana air Hale" she says with a smile, Haley pulls her head back in and lets out a bark, her eyes widened and has that look like she's smiling. 

You know that look dogs do with their tongues hanging out making them look like they're smiling. 

Driving down the road, off on the side, a huge billboard sign with a photo of some man with the caption. 

“We Love You and We Will Take You”

"That's very welcoming" she jokes.

Kate turns onto a small side road that leads to her new home. 

She drives slowly, while looking at the GPS on her phone. 

After a few minutes she finds the house.

"Here it is" she says, pulling into the driveway. 

Shutting off the car, and getting out. 

"Come on Hale" she says, padding her thigh. 

She takes the house keys out of her pocket, and opens the door. 

It's a decent size house for someone who's living on their own, the house is slightly furnished. Her uncle Brent sent some of their old furniture to her new house.

A coffee table, a few chairs, few lamps, a night stand, and a full size bed with the frame, head, footboard, mattress and box spring.

The backyard is bigger than she thought. She opens the door, and lets Haley out to the back. 

"Go sniff around" she tells her.

The 2 1/2 year old German Shepherd sniffs the corners of the fence, looking for a spot to do her business. 

Kate goes back inside, leaving the backdoor open for Haley.

She checks out the rest of the house, the 2 bedrooms, the bathroom and washroom, luckily a washer and dryer comes with the place. So at least she wouldn't want to buy it.

She goes back to the living room, and sees that Haley came back inside. 

She goes to close the backdoor, locking it, she heads out to the front and unpacks her trailer. Boxes, boxes and boxes of her stuff, clothes, books, her WiFi router, personal hygiene products, small furniture, stuff for school, some groceries she has in her mini fridge, some of Haley's stuff, her toys and food. 

She finishes unpacking around 3:30pm, her room is all set up, her bed is fixed, all her clothes are put away in the closet and dresser, she has photos of her friends, family and posters of bands she likes hanging up on the walls. 

She set up her 60inch TV, the box and WiFi router in the living room, she put up curtains on all the windows, and put some plants out on the front porch. 

She has all of her hunter stuff in the 2nd bedroom, her angel blades, demon blades, holy water, bags of salt, her books, her dad’s journal. Bullets filled with rock salt, and all of her other hunting supplies.

She has everything set up, and all she needed now was a kitchen table, a couch and maybe some appliances like a microwave, toaster and a coffee maker. 

She sighs in relief, lays back on her bed, Haley jumps on, laying next to her. 

"You wanna go into town?!?" she asks the dog, she looks at her while tilting her head to the right. 

"You wanna go for a walk?!?" she asks again, she tilts her head to the left while still looking at her. She lets out a loud bark which catches Kate off guard, and jumps off the bed.

Running back and forth down the hall, jumping at her on the bed in excitement. 

She gets up from the bed. 

"Okay let me find your leash" she says, while going into the living room. 

She goes through some of her boxes. 

After a few minutes, she finds her leash and puts it on her collar. Debating whether or not to take her in the car, or walk into town. 

"It's only a 10-20 minute walk from here to town" she says out loud. 

After a couple of minutes, she decides to drive, just in case some stores don't allow animals in, she can leave Haley in the car with all the windows down of course, or maybe leave her outside.

They drive into town, and she parks her car next to a gas station store. 

"Come one Hale" she says. 

She jumps out of the car, Kate locks it up and they walk past the small shops. 

A grocery store, a pharmaceutical store, a gun shop, an autoshop, and  lastly a bar called "The Spread Eagle". 

She looks around, and sees an appliance store, she really does need those appliances. 

She walks closer, and sees a sign on the door saying "Sorry, no animals allowed inside". 

"Of course" she says to herself. 

She ties Haley's leash to a parking meter under a tree 

"I'll be right back" she says to her, petting her head. 

She goes inside the store and looks around. Right off the bat she finds a toaster with 4 slots, and it costs $30 in which to her is a steal. 

She finds a coffee maker and a microwave all that costs a decent amount, less than she thought it would be. 

She pays for her stuff, and goes back outside to untie Haley, they walk back to the car, and put the appliances in the backseat covering them with a blanket. 

They continue to walk around the small town of Falls End located in the Holland Valley region. They cross the street to go onto the opposite side. Up ahead Kate sees a small group of people walking into a church on the other side of the street. Thinking nothing of it.

While on the other side of the street at Falls End Church, John Seed is standing outside of it holding the Book of Joseph, preaching.

"Sin must be exposed so it may be absolved. We must wash away our past" while some of his men escort some locals into the church. 

"You will know the power of Yes, you will confess your sins" he continues.

As he looks around he sees Kate with Haley walking on the opposite side of the street. 

He stares at her as she walks by, a smirk appears on his face. Perhaps he is engrossed by her?. He gets a weird feeling in his stomach but he ignores it. 

He continues to watch her as she walks further down the street away from the church. 

He shakes his head, snapping out of that trance, and continues to preach to the sinners.

Kate walks down the street towards a different market. Once again they don't allow animals in the store. 

So she ties Haley to a small iron fence in the shade "I'll be back'" she tells her again. 

She shops for about 25 minutes, she doesn't like to keep her dog outside that long especially out in public, she grabs bread, eggs, orange juice, fruit, cereal, milk, breakfast sausages, bacon, dog treats, grounded coffee and butter. 

Typical stuff you would buy at a grocery store. 

She pays for her stuff, goes outside, unties Haley putting the leash around her wrist. 

"Here you can hold your treats" she says, as she gives Haley her bag of Beggin Strips. 

She carries it in her mouth making the bags less heavy for Kate, and they head back to the car. They cross the street, now walking on the church side. John steps out of it, and sees Kate walking towards the church. 

He gets a better look at her, she's really cute. Actually she’s more than cute, she’s beautiful. Black hair past her shoulders, brown eyes, looks like she could be 19-22 years old?. Could she be a college student?. He's about to say something to her, but it gets ruined when one of his men calls out for him. 

"John!!" they call out. 

Turning his head to look back at him. 

He quickly looks back at Kate who is too far for him to call out to her. 

He rolls his eyes in annoyance, and goes back inside the church to see what they want. 

Kate walks back to her car, and puts her groceries in the back seat. 

Haley jumps into the front seat, and they drive off. 

They get stopped at a red light in front of the church, John looks out the window, and sees a black 70 Monte Carlo with a German Shepard sticking its head out the window. 

He quickly recognizes the dog, and sees Kate in the driver seat. 

Quickly, he goes outside before the light turns green. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he yells out "Nice car!!". 

Kate can't see who yelled it because Haley is blocking her view from the passenger side, and is barking at some of the peggies outside the church. 

So she yells back, "Thank you!!" followed with a honk of the horn. She in a way acknowledged John even if she didn't really see him. 

She continued to drive down the road heading back home. 

After a 10 minute drive, she makes it home, and puts all her groceries away, hooks up the appliances and sits back on one of her chairs for the rest of the day watching TV with Haley chilling at her feet. 

“What a day Hale” she says, resting her feet on the table.

*3 in half hours later*

That night John is baptizing, cleansing some sinners, making them a step closer to being a part of Eden’s Gate. He’s doing his usual thing, making sure they are cleansed, and washed away from their sins. 

He can’t seem to get Kate off his mind, he finds this very strange because these are some new feelings, that he has never felt before. 

After he finishes the baptism, Joseph notices something is off about his younger brother. 

He approaches him once he’s finished.

“John?!” he says, approaching him. “What is troubling you brother?”.

John doesn’t know what to say, he stumbles with his words “Nothing, Joseph”.

He places his hand on John's shoulder, their foreheads touching. 

“It’s about a girl, isn’t it?” he asks, sounding like he already knew what this was all about.

John looks down, and lets out a soft sigh.

“Go to her. She can be your other half, when we cross Eden’s Gate” he tells him, before walking away. 

John looks up at his older brother as he walks away, leaving him to contemplate with what he should do next. 

[lemonietrinket]

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader

Share With Taeyong

Genre: Fluff, adventure, mystery, interactive choose-your-own-story Warning(s): References to alcohol use but nothing severe/dangerous Word Count: 2355 Ambience: here

[START]

~~~

“Can I share with you, Yongie?”

The man in question immediately sat up, cheeks aglow with tipsy rouge and a beaming smile. “Of course you can!” 

His arms flew open, childishly beckoning you over and leaving Doyoung to sigh. He didn’t say a word however, and simply shook his head, stepping further over so you could pass and he could get his bed back.  You barely had a chance to offer him a glance of an apology as Taeyong’s face turned from sunshine to a cloudy pout. 

“Y/N...!” he called with a whine.

Ah, yes, you had forgotten how needy a mildly drunk Taeyong could be.

“I’m coming, Yongie, hang on.” There was no way you could wipe the smile off your lips as you stepped awkwardly across the suitcases and to his side.

As soon as you were close enough, no matter what you had intended to do before joining him, he stretched up so he could pull you down. Slowly tumbling into his lap with a yelp, Taeyong merely hummed happily as he pulled you against his chest. His hands slipped round your waist and settled neatly across your stomach, whilst he nuzzled his nose into the back of your neck. Surprised at such the display of affection you weren’t sure what to do, especially with you turned away from him. You continued to giggle while your heart drummed against your lungs. However, when he began to rub small circles into your belly, eventually you let yourself sink into his embrace. He felt so light you were nervous to at first, but you reminded yourself that he was tougher than he looked. Besides, he was the one squeezing you tighter to the point it was getting difficult to breathe.

And so you let yourself lay back, hands joining his and stroking them as you rested your head on his shoulder, leaving him to settle his chin on yours. At your new angle you could finally see him, his shining doe eyes darkened with a sated tiredness as he blinked at you, no smile to be found.

It took you several moments to realise that was because he was exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes at you. And truth be told there was no way you could choke down the laugh that followed. You’d been about to enquire if he’d gotten something in his eyes when he shifted away, pouting at you properly with a flush of pink rising to his nose and cheeks. “What! What did I do?! Did I do something wrong—you hate me don’t you—”

Oh yeah, you’d forgotten that side of the liquor’s effects too.

“No, no Yong!” you interjected before he could ramble any further, sheepishness fluttering through your chest leading you to turn in his loosened grip, your hands reaching for his where they had retreated, “I don’t hate you, I promise I don’t hate you!” Fingers linking carefully with his, he didn’t resist though the smile didn’t return to his beautiful features even as you created a cradle for them. Beginning to worry, you looked across the tent. “Isn’t that right Doyoung?”

It was only then that your gaze glanced to the other side of the tent. You felt bad for how quickly you’d forgotten about the third person there with you, despite being well aware of the effect that Taeyong has on people—and especially you.

Though this was dashed as Doyoung replied, not sparing a single look to either of you and continuing to get into his sleeping bag, “I’m not getting involved.”

“But—!”

“Taeyong is your responsibility now, sucks to be you,” he iterated, a lilt of snark in his voice. “Rip.”

You had half a mind to go to town on him right there and then; tease him for how weird the word felt coming out of his mouth, and as to where he got it from. He was spared only because he was correct, to an extent. Taeyong was still quite upset, and if left in this state without attention for too long, he would only worsen—something you’d learned from unfortunate personal experience.

Turning back to him you found him staring at you, a concerned pout still on his face and glimmering specks in his eyes. “Ignore him Yongie, he’s playing mean.” Reaching up, you stroked the hair out of his eyes where it had fallen, before thumbing his cheeks gently. They were so soft you could’ve melted. “Why don’t we get into bed now? I think Doyoung wants to sleep and we could both do with some.”

After a moment’s thought, he mumbled, “Fine...” However, he did not seem to become any less restless. In fact as his hands left yours, he only seemed to sadden more. 

“It’s ok Yongie,” you began slowly, in the softest voice you could manage, “tomorrow you won’t even remember this.” Your assurance was met with a grumble that you couldn’t quite make out. “Yong?”

“I don’t forget you.”

As he spoke he peered back over his shoulder, and despite the storm and the dim lights he looked nothing less than a masterpiece, the inspiration of a statue briefly catching him and his neutral expression. You were left in utter silence at his cryptic words, and more so at how the corners of his lips briefly upturned before he turned back round and he began to shift himself across the bed to get himself comfortable.

Hanging back, watching him with a dozy smile on your lips, your thoughts ran wild despite what you showed to the rest of the world. Though the relief washing through you offered a temporarily ease, the nerves and confusion broke through its barrier in the end. Could you keep your cool? The man you had a crush on was going to be right next to you for a whole night. Did he feel the same or was this the drink talking? You didn’t think he was quite drunk but then again you hadn’t been there with him for that long. Then again... what did he mean by that? And would he be happy with this the next morning?

You knew you had to be very careful, for his sake.

“If you want me to sleep away from you or on the floor then that’s—”

Taeyong, now with his legs under his blankets, whipped his head up. “No! No you sleep here, next to me. So you’re nice and warm.”

“Are you sure?”

His nose scrunched briefly before he nodded with such a certainty. “I won’t let you sleep on the floor! Now come on.”

Feeling you could do little but follow his instructions, you stepped over to his side while he slipped further beneath the covers, until only his head could be seen. When it was time for you to join him, he lifted the blankets’ edges to help you under.  And no sooner were you lying on your back, blinking at the ceiling than rather confronting the man beside you, Taeyong had rolled closer and rested his head on your shoulder, fitting at your side with a hand clutching at your shirt, as if you were the only provider of safety. 

Your heart leapt and you prayed he couldn’t feel it. You felt over the moon, there was no denying it, but your thoughts continued to race. 

And then the light went out. 

Doyoung murmured an already half-asleep ‘goodnight’ that you echoed without a second thought, while Taeyong merely yawned. It was a cute little yawn, the same one you’d seen while he played animal crossing late in the evening, and it had a special way to awake the butterflies in your stomach. 

Taking the deepest breath you could manage, you folded your arm around him, just in case he took that as a sign you weren’t happy, in his tired and slightly emotional state. It earnt him pressing even closer to you, his nose nuzzling further into your neck. 

But all that followed was quiet, and once again you laid awake, listening to the drops of rain scattering across the canopy of the tent.  Taeyong’s words echoed through your head, their mantra forcing a frown on your face even while you closed your eyes, in an attempt to shut them out. It didn’t work however—you needed an answer

It was such a strange way to phrase something. It implied that he didn’t remember others, or at least to in the same way. Even though it was probably the product of his tiredness mixing with the remnants of alcohol, you couldn’t help but tease at the edges of the hope it brought you. You were special, different from the others, to him, and that meant that you have a chance. 

“Y/N...!” The whisper was low. 

“Yeah?” you answered, without a hint of grogginess.

“You’re still awake...” He sounded happy that you were.

“What’s up?”

There was a pause. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep again, so I’m glad I’m not alone.”

Wait, you thought, how long has it been since—

“I’m sorry that you have to take care of me.”

You felt him lift his head upwards, his breath coming to tickle your neck and you wondered what he was looking at. Of course you knew it had to be you, but you wished the dark would just subside for a moment, just to let you see for yourself. 

“I will remember it tomorrow though, I promise!”

“You will?” you uttered, hardly believing it. As soon as liquor entered his system it was as if it triggered a reset within him the next morning. He’d get up and return to being so normal that it was almost unsettling, clearing up any mess he found as he trundled into the kitchen, not a single memory of the night before flickering across his mind.  You remembered the first and only time that you’d been up before him to see it—though ‘up’ was perhaps the wrong term, since you had in fact not slept that night to have not been. Either way, you’d become a molten mess as soon as you spotted him enter the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. His presence had been so small as he slipped through the door, holding it steady so it wouldn’t close with a slam. And then he’d turned, arms crossed to retain some warmth and puffed his cheeks into the fridge. It was impossible to picture this man as the same guy that owned the stage in front of thousands. 

You would have continued your little dream, sighing  like you always did when he stood and smiled sweetly to you slouched at the island counter, when it hit you square in the gut that the real Taeyong had been talking the entire time.

“—like you. So I wasn’t wrong, because that all played a part. And now here I am, with you, finally admitting it. Wow, future-me is going to hate me.”

You cursed to yourself. 

“Really?” you said, swallowing thickly and praying that it was a suitable reaction to whatever he’d been rambling on about.

“Yes! Really!” he reiterated, voice rising from a whisper to a murmur in excitement. It was at that moment that his head lifted and he shifted his weight so he could prop himself up on one arm. His other hand trailed to yours and began to play with your fingers, lifting one to stroke his thumb across the skin there, before scooping up another. His head hovered above your own, his silhouette just standing out in the dark of the night. “Y/N, kiss me.”

You choked, “W-what?”  

The tip of his nose brushed yours as he repeated with a coy grin, “Kiss. Me. Pretty please.”

Heart pumping at a rate abnormal even for you in the vicinity of the biggest crush you’ve ever had, your thoughts flurried while you tried to string together enough words to make a response, Is he serious? Oh god what if I do badly? Will he regret it? What did he said before? Of course, of all the things you had to miss it had to be that, didn’t it?

At last, with your hand in his, your fingers threading through the hair at his nape tentatively, you answered. 

“No.”

There was silence, even the rain had hushed into fine whispers.

“You don’t like me back?” Taeyong asked, voice back down to a whisper, barely audible despite the calm of the storm.

“No, Yong, I do, I really do,” you urged, before sighing once again, cupping his cheek with your palm and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, “it’s just... you’re drunk. I don’t want you to regret anything, to regret kissing me for the first time... because this would be our first kiss, and alcohol always makes you let things slip.”

Taeyong’s shadow didn’t move, nor did he speak. The dread that seized your stomach crept up to your lungs and throat, leaving you without air for what felt like an eternity. Until, at last, he responded.

“See?” he said, leaning into your touch, “Always taking care of me.”

A smile rose beneath your palm before he fell away and settled back down on your chest. His embrace was stronger this time, his arm wrapped around you fully, his hand holding yours. Despite your negative answer, he didn’t seem discouraged, and if his grip was anything to go by, he felt secure. 

Still, you felt bad. His set-up had a cinematic feel to it, and waiting only meant more time lost. But you reminded yourself that you had all the time in the world, there was no limit for neither you nor him.

So as his breath evened at your neck, his foot slipping across to interlink your legs, you spoke up, “Kiss me tomorrow morning?” The day following the storm was always beautiful, wasn’t it?

He laughed softly, hair tickling your ear. “Yeah, that sounds like a much better idea.”

Breathing your final sigh of relief for the night, your turned your head so your chin could rest against his crown. “Goodnight, Yongie.”

“Goodnight, Angel.”

.

.

.

Replay?

~~~

an: i feel like im in a real writing funk rn. nothing feels like its any good. or genuine. or cute or anything. is it just me or is that actually true... idk anymore

also i actually wrote out what yong was saying that yn didnt pay attention to (so when i sliced it, it would sound more realistic) and i think its really cute and funny so i dont want it to be left unknown but also its so small so idk what to do with it

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Masterlist

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. But I am sleepy. I am laying in bed and listening to James play his monster game with his friends. It's been a nice night. 

And today was bad at all. I slept alright enough last night. My back hurt a lot so it was hard to like get myself going. But I got washed and dressed. I loce my overalls and i felt real cute. My hair was dirty but whatever. I felt nice.

James was in a weird mood. He had a job interview today and was feeling nervous I think. I'm proud of him for plugging away so hard to try to have a new job for the new year. I love him. 

I headed to work and it was an alright day. It moved much faster then yesterday. I did a lot of sewing. I worked on store stuff. I talked to some customers. It was very productive. 

And for the most part the kids were chill. I had to talk sternly a lot to one girl. Which had my throat hurting by the end of the day. But the oldest girl was my hype man whenever i asked someone to knock something off and that was funny. 

We did do some painting though and that was a mess. I had to cancel painting for the day after the third time i had to scrub paint off the floor. But most of them got it after that and helped me clean up. 

I wish we could have gone outside but James let me know it was very cold still so we didn't miss out on much. The kids would just play in the gym when they had some time. And I would just sew. 

The day ended pretty fast all things considered. James had sent me pictures of his dad and him getting a Christmas tree. It was very cute. And I was happy to go home. 

I got back here and printed some labels and put things down for pick up. I worked on some photos of all the things i finished today. And then made a cheese plate. Played a little animal crossing. It was pretty cold in here but i had my little heater and that helped. 

James made us fancy potatoes for dinner. And we are together in the living room. And then i was back to sewing. 

I broke two sewing needles on the fluffy pink fabric. Frustrating. All the ones i worked on tonight need a lot of hand sewing. At least it will give me something to do tomorrow. 

I went and sat with James to chat with his friends for a few minutes. Showed them my plushies. They seemed excited about all the frogs. 

And i was back to work stuffing the bears and giving them faces. I have 6 ready to finish now. And I hung two of the house shelves. Very pleased with how they look.

Once i was done that i went and took a bath. Washed my hair. Thought my thoughts. Listened to a scary story. My skin is very spotty right now which is very frustrating. But I'm trying not to let it bother me. 

Now I'm la omg here. And my toes are cold. And I'm ready to sleep. Tomorrow I hope will be a good day. For you all as well! Goodnight everyone! Be safe! 

[nyrator]

random life updatess, some blehs, some animal crossings

today was not a good day again (bought turnips in AC, rip that 110 price, then ate breakfast, and then laid back down until 7PM), then dealt with drama stuffs and me being in general not-a-good person when I got up, and ultimately couldn’t even bring myself to eat dinner (which I’m now regretting since there aren’t any snacks or anything in the apartment either, just completely drained at the moment)

wondering where to go to vent things since I feel too self conscious of social media and don’t want to bother people I know, but bottling it up inside has been very painful to me lately and I don’t handle it well

but enough of that

in terms of life itself

still living the quarantined life, still car-less but getting rides from friends to go shopping which is nice. tomorrow will be a strange schedule (shopping/taking mother to doctor/meeting another friend/dealing with my mother giving me two different times to go to the doctor, one of which interferes with meeting said friend, and I swear they told her not to come because of the virus, but we will see)

also ants are in the apartment which is bleh but I’ve learned to deal with it until I can buy ant traps or something (I wish they’d turn the central air on already, May is hot)

not sure what the future holds in terms of my financial life honestly- my work will be opening up as soon as the governor lets them, but only with the owners running it- It sounds like I won’t be brought back until the fall, if they even stay open that long

ubi sounds really nice right now and I hope one day it passes (politics is still something I pay too much attention to but will keep refraining from bringing up again)

in other news

working on this game jammm

mentioned how I wasn’t looking forward to it, but perhaps that’s too harsh- I always enjoy the jam. But man, at the same time, not looking forward to the work part at alll- but it has to be done. Red Square was extremely painful to work on, but at least the current collab I’m working on will be less taxing on me design-wise (I hope). But there is something massive planned, at least, because with Kresna, there always is. He’s really incredible, and I’m excited to see the finished product.

I still have projects I should work on, but just can’t- Came so close to making a complete reference of console tan designs that I have so far last night, but ended up crashing right down and can’t focus on working at all at the moment.

was debating working on one of my rpg maker games alongside the current project, but I have a feeling that’ll be impossible (or at least, not ideal)

rotten nyan still needs to update, and I still feel too self conscious about it, I think- part of me wants to make a hidden account to do all the twisted things I’d like, and all the disgusting things I don’t think anyone wants to see, but it’s tough and I still don’t think I want to be personally associated with that kind of content. I don’t know. Even then, my mind still isn’t able to visualize what I want to create- Any time I lay down and try to think, it’s either pain from anxiety, or disgusting thoughts I don’t want to share. I don’t know what to make- it feels like I have the power to create anything I want in a sense, but nothing to want to make. Maybe I’m “the Ny that Stole the Sun”.

so much free time, but nothing to show for it, it’s really disappointing to me, but I just can’t focus on things I want to anymore

but anyway, enough about that

Got a nice little pick me-up in ACNH when deciding to play it a little bit ago, a good present from Lala, good friend. Now I can be the purple magical Ny I always wanted to be~ But really, thanks Lala, it means a lot

Also decided to try turning the face icons into sprites to use as custom design signs, I think it’s already been done but I like doing things by hand, got Merry’s done at least.

Been organizing the town, but it is definitely a work in progress- I got my house, the buildings, and four villager houses planned out, but no idea what to do with the other six villagers, or what attraction-y things to add like playgrounds and stuff (it’ll take a while until I have enough furniture to be able to piece things together). Also need to figure out how to properly decorate the Able shop and things like river layouts and stuff.

house interior is still an absolute mess and still waiting to find a site to make it easier to search for certain furniture (I use villagerdb mostly but hard to find things in specific colors still), just need the basement and I thiiiink my house will be fully upgraded?

also wish it was easier to get villagers I’d like (here’s a random thing I made of villagers I like, though doesn’t include the new villagers to this game like jock sheep or lazy goat friends), circled ones I’m most likely going to settle with but mann, it’s hard (why does normal have so many good choices... I randomly got Gayle early on and Merengue from an island visit and they’re both unexpected but good friends)

I was hoping it’d be like in ACNL where you could be like “oh hey you can have nine villagers and a tenth will only move in when you will it to”, that way I could just use my 50,000+ nook miles to get tickets and hunt for villagers, but looks like I’d only have a day or so after someone moves out

there’s amiibo of course but they’re getting expensive (I could get my own NFC things I guess but it feels like cheating), but I feel Stella’s the next one I want to move in and I don’t have her card, rippp

also still adjusting to the personalities in this game, still sad cranky became “old man complains about being old”, but at least it’s not as bad as it was in Pocket Camp I think. Also Lazy’s are now “I am baby who speaks to the bugs, they are my friends, they whisper to me” and honestly it’s weird enough that I like it but hard to picture anyone but Prince acting like that (I’m not a fan of frogs or his facial hair so hmm)

also man lots of use of “Le” in this game, I forgot that was still a thing people did. Peppy and Smug are still great for me to talk to though so I’m happy.

but yeah, I should go to bed I guess, it’s past 4AM

[colitisandme]

Yesterday was a bad day. With IBD, some days are bad days, some really bad days and yesterday was the equivalent of your shoes getting stolen whilst having a nap on a train having to leave the station to find it’s raining, stepping on poo, then have a driver throw a rancid burrito at you out of a car window whilst pigeons watch nearby. Now you are being chased by pigeons who think you resemble a wet, walking, snack. So you run bare foot and screaming through a group of people, Knocking them over like bowling pins. You run and run, still screaming, trying in vain to get back to your house, only to find you’ve dropped your keys somewhere between stepping in poo, losing your shoes and getting attacked by wild hungry birds. And so wet, bitten and smelly, you sit on your doorstep, looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, until a nice neighbour invites you in to their house. Once inside, he makes you stand on kitchen roll in his hallway, and shoes the rest of the family away from you into the lounge, until the locksmith comes out and lets your shivery, embarrassed, bedraggled self into your own house, eyeing you up with a mixture of suspicion and horror as you squelch up the stairs. Yep yesterday was like that.

It started out okay. I hadn’t slept for the 3rd night in a row and so was starting to resemble something from ‘the night of the living dead.’ I fed our bunnies, who looked slightly alarmed when this swamp like creature appeared at their hutch door, and to show their disgust at my bedraggled, bloodshot eyed appearance, scuttled off into their bedroom area and did not re-appear until I filled up their food bowls. In the process of doing this and leaning down to give them some affection, I proceeded to fall over and nearly break my leg on one of their toys, which in turn, caused me to yell out loudly, scrabbling to keep myself upright. After I tried to gain my balance, they proceeded to thump at me in chorus for disturbing their peaceful breakfast time, ignore my cries of pain and rebuff my attempts to pacify them with pieces of dried fruit. I then hobbled back inside, groaning and cursing my need to make sure our bunnies were stimulated by making our shed into the equivalent of the ‘Toys R’Us bunny sanctuary’ proclaiming war and future destruction of all cardboard tunnels, fed our doggy guest then tried to start my day.

My body was being a D**k! A true arsehole. Firstly it spent the first hour convincing me I needed to go to the loo, (hadn’t been for 3 days) and so I spent that hour running backwards and forwards to my bathroom like I was on a travelator, sweating, swearing, grunting, in pain and nauseous before finally forcing myself to go. My poor bum was in tatters and my hands became red and sore because I had clenched my fists so hard, there were nail marks imbedded into my palm. The dog didn’t understand my pain, as I limped over to the freezer and put ice on my paws and just wanted strokes and belly rubs so I nursed my paws and stroked the dog, thankful she too didn’t love cardboard tunnels. As well as now dealing with leg injury and ice paws, I had been, for the past few days living with a bite on my arm, due to some demon insect deciding it would fuck up my week by taking a chunk out of my arm. This might not sound like much, but my immune system is shot and I am also really helpfully, allergic to the one bug that chewed on me, so it’s a big deal.

It picked on me when I was trying to be a good fur baby mum, and clean out my bunnies shed. He flew up out of the hay and sank his little insecty fangs into my poor unsuspecting flesh. Although bumpy and itchy, I put some cream on it, wrapped ice around my arm and hoped for the best. Well my arm ballooned. My whole left forearm resembled a cross between Popeye and the Michelin man. After rubbing my arm, then cursing myself for scratching myself into a stupor and declaring war on all things insecty and bitey, ( I never harm any animal including spiders, snails, bees wasps etc but I draw the line at fly’s and horseflys because they find me perfectly delicious) I instructed my husband to get me some hydrocortisone cream and I found some Anti itch cream nestled in my bag to slather all over it. But it was too late. I once watched a documentary which stated, that a bear will travel hundreds of miles to visit his favourite ‘scratching tree’ and I now understand the extroadinary travel time and distance he would go to, just to happily scratch himself for a few hours. I was so bloody itchy I was rubbing myself on anything to relieve that itch. Anything. And if anyone would have seen me, I would have looked demented with my tongue on one side, trying to rub my arm up and down the wooden beams in my house with a look on my face that resembled madness and sheer euphoria. Of course this was a mistake, and soon all the antihistamine coursed through my body and hundreds of hives had popped up, so I knew I just had to grit my teeth and wait it out. 3 days later, hair on end, sleepless, eyes wide, hungry and my bum in tatters I had lost a lot of my reserves.

You would think that my body, at this point, would take pity on me. Give me a cuddle, send me up to bed with a warm drink of peppermint and liquorice tea (god I miss hot chocolate) and shush me to sleep with the southing sounds of whale music, but no. It was mean and refused to comfort me or lull me to sleep using soft tones or the sounds of the sea. It really wanted to scream obscenities at me and serenade me with symphonies that sounded like the music was being played by an irate toddler who would use a combination of drums, violin and cymbals to piss me and my ears off. And so right at the moment I sat itchy, cold pawed, bruised and tattered, sore, hair on end, achey, with my eyes on stalks... I got my period. (Sorry to all the guys reading this)

The pain smacked into me like a freight train. An absolute punch to the gut and then reversed and slammed into my back to make doubly sure it really hurt me in my tender spots. Already in quite a lot of pain, It absolutely took my breath away. IBD makes me feel like my whole body is full of stones. I personally feel like I am never empty, and stones take up a lot of bloody room in an already swollen, angry, raw space that doesn’t appreciate more visitors. Yesterday the IBD was rampant. Now this. “NO COCKING WAY, “THERES NO MORE ROOM” I yelled out. “I AM FULL” My body didn’t listen and ignored my screams and my protestations, and continued to fill the already cramped, raw, ragged and heavy space with what felt like shards of glass. So with itchy skin, clusters of hives all down my arm, sore hands, sore bum, sore stomach, bags under my eyes and now dealing with agonising pain searing throughout the lower half of my body, I lost it. I cried. I didn’t want to cry, because the sobs made my body hurt. But right at that moment I lost it. I hated my body. I didn’t understand why it was hurting me so much. I staggered to the kitchen, made myself a water bottle, got some water, and lay down. I knew I couldn’t get through this with meditation, I knew I couldn’t solve this with mindfulness and I couldn’t take painkillers. I just had to ride it out. It got to afternoon and I was in so much agony I couldn’t have a wash, cook or get myself upstairs and so I ate a banana to keep me going until the pain subsided.

It didn’t subside. It didn’t let up at all. Not for one millisecond. Every time I moved it felt like my whole body was being squeezed by a boa-constrictor, every time I breathed, I would cramp. Every time I took a small bite of banana or a sip of water, my whole body reacted with venomous anger. There was nothing I could do. Nothing except to wait, and stroke the Dog’s ears who laid next to me and looked at me with concerned and loving eyes.

My wonderful, caring husband came home and saw my sad blotchy face. He listened to me as I cursed IBD, my body, being a woman, nasty insects and the perils of bunny toys, wiped my tears, gave me a huge cuddle and helped me to have a shower. It hurt. Getting out of the shower hurt. Getting dried made me yell out in pain, putting fresh PJs on caused me pain. He then tucked me up, got me 3 water bottles, and put on Masterchef Australia whilst he sorted out dinner, bunnies and general household ness. (My Husband is awesome.)

The pain went on and on, like Dante’s seventh circle of hell. It was during this time I (mistakenly) put a post up on FB about what a shit day I was having. So because I have been out of work, I have spoke to a couple of at home type businesses for possible income ideas, and I couldn’t believe it but during my extreme pain episode, one messaged me privately, and started up a conversation trying to sell me their product. Now, I am hugely respectful of anyone trying to make a living online, from home or in any capacity, and had already had a few conversations with this particular lady explaining that I couldn’t afford her ‘start up package’ nor her products, and so when she messaged me again I was surprised.

Through the haze of my groin splitting pain, I again explained I couldn’t afford her high costs, and I thought that would stop the conversation but no, she pushed it. She was trying to use the fact I was in pain, discomfort and misery at that moment to get a ruddy sale. I was appalled. What the hell did she expect me to do or say? “Sure, I would love to gab away with you like gal pals while I cross my eyes, grind my teeth and chew my fist in pain due to an angry gremlin gnawing away on my intestines and womb! I would definitely love to hear about all the exact uses of wuffle dust, and how it will cure all my aches and pains as I try not to swear, vomit or hurl myself into the bathroom. No sodding problem. Let me just get my cocking credit card”... I couldn’t believe she used that moment to try and make me a customer. I got really angry. I couldn’t believe she would do that, in that way, at that time. I honestly truly was stunned that someone would try and take advantage of me like that and so, once I could focus through the pain, I told her so. I explained politely that what she did was wrong, how shitty it made me feel, and although I had huge respect for her and her product, I no longer wanted to have any contact with her. I then proceeded to erase her from my social media. I do not want to associate with anyone who would use someone’s vulnerability to get a sale. It’s disgusting.

It was way past midnight when most of the world was quiet and I had uttered every swear word I could think of, that my body finally relented to sleep. And as I staggered, exhausted upstairs, feeling used by my body, manipulated by people and generally hacked off at the world, I reached out to a few others who were also having a shit day. As we all experienced our own pain, we lifted each other up, laughed, chatted through tears and cursed our irrate and unco-operative bodies. Just before finally drifting off to sleep we all wholeheartedly agreed that sometimes, on days like this, there really aren’t enough swear words in the world to make the minute, the hour, the moment or day better, but yelling out or whispering through gritted teeth, the most creative and bizarre ones we could think of to ourselves, definitely helps.