#my apartment is relatively clean but I really wanted to like. scrub it down and make it extra nice

[dyna-myght]

Been cleaning my apartment for the last two hours 😭. And I didn’t even get everything done 💔.

[noiselessbuck]

how to wash your dishes with autism/sensory issues

i live in an apartment and have to wash all of my own dishes by hand. this is what i have found helpful

getting started: i also have depression which often means dishes get left for a while. i have an agreement with my housemates about how long is ok for dishes to be left not done. everything about living with other people starts with communication but ultimately they are my dishes i have to do them no one else can.

starting: notice how you are doing sensory wise every day. if it's a day where i had to wear my weirdly texture rain jacket my socks got wet and the bus was loud then that means just as i come home is Not a good time to do dishes. i Will start flinching at every sound, hate everything i am touching, and feel gross for an hour afterwards if i do the dishes right now. so i'm going to wait.

when is a good time to do dishes? if today isn't a bad depression day i often say "im going to do the dish" as in: if i just ate cereal im only going to wash my bowl and spoon. it's not a lot of work, it hasn't been sitting in the sink, and the longer i can keep up doing exactly the dishes i just used the less dishes i have to do at once.

if there are dishes piled up i take note of that and find a time when say, ive been inside for a while, ive been just on my computer, or phone, or writing for a while, this means im not sensory overwhelmed.

what to do while doing the dishes:

no one said you have to only be doing the dishes. put on some music, an audiobook, call your friend, put on your favorite podcast or podfic. you distract yourself

how to leave the dishes:

the thing to me that makes or breaks how icky i feel while doing the dishes is how they are left. i personally hate touching cold wet things to i try to have as little water as possible in the sink while my dishes are sitting there. but i know that w something like peanut butter, melted cheese, oatmeal, yogurt, or dough from baking those things will cement to the dishes if you don't deal with them. you can either do a bit of cleaning right when you put them in the sink or let them soak. i try to leave enough dry edge so i can tip the water out later with a dry hand

sensory issues with dishes:

the main problem with dishes is that there are a lot of sensory things happening at once and they're all quite irregular.

sound:

music or even earplugs can help with the sounds of the sink the dishes clinking each other ect. but also running the water a little less and setting the dishes down slowly can do wonders for having less loud sounds. also if you have a garbage disposal doing that only at the very end.

texture:

dish gloves help some people with the textures but me personally i don't like the gloves because it adds another texture of the inside of the gloves and augments the texture of anything that i am touching. but someone else may love gloves for exactly the same reasons.

the other thing to note about textures is the tools you are using. i like to use a sponge for most things but for things i don't want to touch as much i use a scrub brush w a stick so i'm far away from whatever soup is still at the bottom of my pot or whatever.

temperature:

temperature is one of the more overlooked senses but with dishes its very prevalent. you never want the water too hot because you really can burn yourself but having the water at a good temperature and then letting it run over all the dishes will make it so each dish you are touching is a relatively uniform temperature instead of your tea cup being hot the dishes from this morning being cold.

soap:

you can try to find soap that has a scent that bothers you the least, you can find soap that comes in a container that makes sense to you and easiest for you. if the soap bottle is getting to be a weird texture you can wash said soap bottle to get it back to its original texture.

other sensory notes:

you can do any activity you want in less light, so long as you have enough to work safely.

you can do any activity sitting down. maybe for the sink you'll want a stool instead or a chair near by to take breaks in

if you have people who can help you, you can ask for help. you can ask for a buddy to do a task with, or someone to body double, or you can ask reasonably if someone else can do the dishes on a bad day. these are all tips for making it a not as bad of a time and for figuring out when are times it won't be really bad. but if it is going to be bad, or if say there's complicated dishes from baking or cooking, you can ask for help and it Makes Sense to ask for help.

where to put away the dishes:

if you notice that something sensory sucks about retrieving clean dishes you have the power to prevent that from happening. example: pulling a glass cup that is stacked inside another glass cup is squeaky and bad texture to me.

if drying dishes is hard for you maybe get a drying rack or lay down a dish towle and put them on there or put them away semi wet but keep the cupboards open so there won't be anything gross

really bad days:

you can keep some disposable plates and cups and silverware for bad days, there's nothing wrong with that. if you're worried about the environment get recycle-able or compostable ones. you can also see what kinds of food come with their own container or dont necessary need a second container. example: if you have your own personal container of take out or ice cream you can eat that from its container. or mixed together stuff box salads or premade stuff can be eaten from their containers

i hope this is helpful to somebody, these are all only from my personal experience, leave more tips in rbs if you have them

[mysteriouslyjellyfish]

life is about to get very busy again. in the hopes of not, yknow, falling apart, I’ve been compiling ways to keep myself somewhat sane and organized. I wanted to share some of them here in case they’re at all useful for someone, AND I would love for people to reblog and add their own methods!

- cleaning: I clean on three set days a week. each has very general instructions, like “clean kitchen.” I don’t specify “wipe counters, empty toaster crumbs...” and instead just do what needs to be done. floor’s pretty clean? great. won’t worry about it. fridge is kind of grimy? great. I’ll wipe it down. same for the other rooms. this way I don’t get overwhelmed by a list of tasks, and everything stays relatively clean.

- food planning: deciding what to cook is a lot of work, so I made a list of recipe categories to rotate through. like, “pasta dish, ‘bowl’ meal, sheet pan meal, big salad...” Thus, part of the decision-making is done but it’s more flexible than a list of recipes, which makes it possible to use the unplannable food I get from dumpstering + foodshare + foraging. I also have a list for breakfasts and go-to snacks to pick from when grocery list-making.

- cooking: ideally I make two big recipes each weekend. one is lunches for the week and the other is dinners. prepping ingredients on the weekends then cooking during the week doesn’t work for me. also, when I have money to grocery shop more freely I’ll buy myself one or two frozen/microwave meals each week as a lil non-cooking treat.

- “prioritize, multitask, lower your standards” a motto for really hectic times. (1) prioritize what absolutely needs to happen today, know which things you can put off til tomorrow. (2) not real multitasking (bad for my brain) but like, do dishes while clothes are in the wash. reply to emails while veggies are roasting. (3) it may not be the cleanest that pan’s ever been, but you won’t get peace from scrubbing it thoroughly if it means you go to bed with 5 things still on your to-do list.

- to-do lists: I have three lists on my phone. one is called To Do, and it’s stuff that needs to happen in the next, like, few weeks. another is called Today. each day I move a few things from To Do to Today and hopefully they get done. the third is stuff I’d like to do but isn’t actually essential (re-organize the closet, finish cracking black walnuts, embroider other fanny pack, research family history...). things only move from this list to Today if I have a whole bunch of free time.

- sometimes cull projects. in the busy part of the year a lot of things on the third list just won’t happen and seeing that long list stresses me out. so I delete the ones that I’m not as excited about. if anything, it makes the others more likely to happen.

- laundry happens on the same day every week. maybe the next day if I’m truly exhausted. in less crazy times I can wait til I run out of clean undies or the hamper fills up or whatever, but when I’m this busy it just has to happen once a week with no deliberating involved.

- I don’t have a dishwasher. if I don’t wash something right after using it the next line of defense is the 24 hour rule. if that fails and the counter fills up with dirty dishes but I’m exhausted, my trick is to wash the three biggest things in there and call it good. the next time I look at the pile it’ll seem much more doable.

[kirindensetsu]

The Making of Fubuki

((Reposting from Den of Angels workshop thread because I wanted my friends to be able to see~))

After years of pining after dolls I couldn't afford as a broke teenager, my first BJD was a Bobobie Sprite I purchased for my 18th birthday. Unfortunately, she didn't live up to my expectations and I never really bonded with her. Her face was cute enough, but the Bobobie body lacked the grace and posing ability I imagined for the Unseelie faerie I'd been daydreaming of for years. Sueding and wiring didn't help, blushing and tattooing highlighted her blockiness, it was a mess. I packed her away and tried not to think about my disappointment for 12 years. In the meantime I learned to build and paint resin garage kits, inherited one of my sister's dolls, bought some others, took anatomy & physiology in college, and did a couple extensive restorations and full-body modifications. I was sure I had thrown her away at some point as a failed project, but last weekend I found her tucked away in a doll bag I thought was empty. Having just finished substantial mods on a Dollshe body, and awaiting an unfinished Unoa kit for my birthday in September, I decided that I owed it to her to try again. Doll nudity below the cut, looooong post--

My Sprite was originally going to be a pooka with golden eyes and extensive woad tattoos. The golden eyes are incredible, so those are staying, but she's now going to be a blue oni to fit in with the rest of my collection. My plan is to do extensive additive epoxy work, and then to use Krylon Fusion to give everything a unified finish. The goal of the project is to reduce the... idk, STRAIGHTNESS of the old Bobobie body. I was never going to be happy with it, the lines were all far too rigid.

Head: Modified mouth for a wider, smirking smile. Magnets added to headcap (old Bobobie used an S-hook iirc; I did this part back in 2008). Forehead drilled for 3mm brass rod armature, and epoxy used to sculpt horns over rod. Bust: Substantial subtractive modifications to breasts, which involved removal and readdition of nipples. Addition of epoxy clay to back and shoulders to give a more curved body line in profile. Deepening of shoulder sockets with 18mm eye bevel, followed by sanding to make shoulders narrower. Waist: Reshaping of upper torso joint into sphere for smoother range of motion. Subtraction of resin in back and addition of epoxy in front to enhance lumbar curve. Hips: Substantial reshaping of lower waist seam to more naturally follow the pelvic girdle. It reminded me of granny panties before  Added epoxy to butt, again for lumbar curve. Thighs: Suwariko joint mod (cut the thigh and added a PVC insert to enable swivelling at the hip). Added epoxy to make her thighs look less straight. Calves: Removed 1cm of length at the ankles and rebevelled the socket. Removed resin at the ankles to bring them in, and added epoxy at the calves to make them curvier. Feet: Sculpted little claws, which were cute, and then decided the feet needed to be 5mm longer. Cut across, drilled and pinned with brass rod for structural strength, gap filled with epoxy clay. I also modded her feet to have defined arches and balls back when I first got her. Alas, spitting into the ocean. I added S-hooks, but did so by drilling the ankle and inserting brass rod to form the axle for the hook. Arms: The proportions on her upper arms BOTHERED me! they were so SHORT! and I only just figured out that's what I hated about them last week! I added 5mm to the upper arms by cutting them in the middle and using SteelStik to make a structural repair (plumber's epoxy putty has a shorter open time but far greater structural strength than artist's epoxy clay). Sanded the heck out of the wrists to give them a more delicate taper. Hands: Beyond salvage. The hands were my least-favorite part of this sculpt. I tried to bulk them up to look less spidery but it was just too difficult... I've ordered a different pair of MSD hands which will have claws added, and then when everything is painted it'll all match. Thanks for reading this far! Here's a preview of what her golden eyes look like next to Krylon Fusion in Antique Blue.

((first progress post)) I think I'm mostly done adding epoxy clay (at least where it'll show; presumably the wrist sockets will require tweaks to fit the new hands), so now it's time for finish sanding. I start with 60 grit for shaping, then switch to a 120 grit sanding sponge. To check for scratches, pinholes, and inadequately feathered edges, I apply a wash of diluted acrylic paint. Once the paint has dried, I scrub the piece with a nylon scouring pad. Paint remains in the surface irregularities.

All sanded with 220 grit. I don't think I'll be going higher than 400 because I want there to be some tooth for the paint.

Any pitting in the epoxy clay that can't be sanded out is marked with a Sharpie and will be patched with Tamiya spot putty.

I did a test spray of the Krylon Fusion on the headcap and it's fantastic! Holy cow is it *poisonous* tho, I'm used to working with volatile chemicals but this was something else. Get OUT OF THE AREA between coats and leave it outside until it stops outgassing, not just until it's ready to handle.

This test piece is four light coats sprayed 1 minute apart, allowed to cure for 4 hours, and then wetsanded to remove the spray texture. It's pretty sturdy but I will wait several more days to see how it continues to cure before experimenting with matte sealants. ((progress update 2))

Haven't done much but sand-and-fill-and-sand-and-fill, but my 14mm beveller came in today so I can start deepening her elbow and ankle sockets. Added some epoxy clay to the insides of the eyewells so 14mm eyes will fit with no gap. I need a needle file to clean up the corners of her mouth... Monster feets! Nails on the right came out better than the left, still need to feather-sand everything.

Elbows progress. The early Bobobie elbows are I guess /technically/ double-jointed because the joint is a sphere with two slots, but I thought I could do better than that. You can see epoxy clay spliced in to make the sphere into a peanut: this isn't a structurally sound repair unless you pop it apart and drill/pin/glue-epoxy it back together.

View from the back. By keeping the joint heads spherical with no elbow-shaped detailing, there's some rotation as well as flexion, which I like.

Touching her face with one of her old hands. I hope the new ones come soon!

((progress update 4))

In good news, these parts are all ready for paint! It's really hard to do prepwork with no filler primer, hope I didn't miss any spots...

In less good news, her new hands arrived and they are... very smol ;u; I forgot that the new trend for slim minis means that everyone has TINY LITTLE HANDS.

They are, however, beautifully sculpted and a good 3D reference for what needs fixing and how. Bobobie palm is very short relative to fingers: I made a transverse cut behind the knuckles and added epoxy to lengthen More curved volume across the back of the hand: Not necessarily realistic, but looks a little cuter, plus it makes the transition into the cylinder of the wrist look less stylistically jarring. More defined joint angles: Some of these I did via cut-and-thermoform repositioning, mostly I'm aiming to fake it by building up and carving away at the weird smooth curves. The fingers are just TOO SKINNY: But obviously I'm not going to squish rice-grain-sized blobs of epoxy to the fingers, right? It's too fiddly, it doesn't want to stick. What's the solution? Brace for a truly hideous WIP image--

"AAAAAAGH WHAT IS THAT DARK GRAY MESS" it's JB Weld epoxy! It's like load-bearing, slow-curing modeller's putty! Slathering putty onto an armature and then carving it away to refine the shape is how anime figure artists make hands and detailed hair.  I was thinking about it from a polymer clay technique/perspective so I missed the obvious solution. Hand in the foreground has more layers than the hand in the background, every layer gets the shape a lil closer. ((progress post 5)) Parts set up on sticks so I can handle them without touching...

... and after 4 light coats!

Closeup of the head, lil' glossy because it's still drying. For the deeper areas like the joint slots, mouth, and the crannies of the ears, I'm going to have to decant some of the paint into a jar and apply it with a sacrificial brush.

((progress post 6)) I return from Depression! I finally finished sanding-and-spraying the Krylon Fusion coats, gave her a last polish with microfine to even out the texture, and have started blushing her. I'm using a mixture of Tamiya X-series acrylics applied via airbrush for basic contouring, then I'll go back in with pastel to add warm tones and details.

Fun discovery: in an attempt to cover some accidental overspray, I tried spraying the Fusion directly into the paint cup of the airbrush and using it to "erase" back to the base color. I'm NEVER using this product straight from the can again, it goes on so smooth and gorgeous from the airbrush! No orange peel or bubbles to sand away. I'm seriously tempted to get a can of pink and try blushing with it.

((progress post 7)) Doing a faceup over a spray-painted substrate is HARD I want to CRY. I talked about sanding out the spray texture to get an untextured surface, right? Welp, didn't/couldn't sand well enough in the corners of the mouth and the folds of the eyelids, so it's crusty-looking with pastels over it and now there's nothing I can do about it that doesn't involve stripping down to resin and starting again.

((final post)) Sueded and strung!

I didn't take pictures of the sueding process because I was using Barge Cement and it is messy and time-sensitive. I used masking tape to make templates of her joints, transferred to some thin gray lamb suede I found on eBay, and glued it fuzzy side out. The suede was thicker than real pliver, more like the thickness of silicone KIPS discs, but I think it worked out without too many fit issues. The trim store had 3.5mm elastic in a beautiful slate-blue color that I thought would look nicer in the joint slots, so she's strung throughout with thicker elastic. Some more poses to show off the functional mods~ Suwariko joints let her sit crosslegged, and more mobile wrists let her put her hands into the pose.

A more ball-and-socked shaped contact surface at her waist lets her slouch at a full range of angles instead of being locked into two.

With longer upper arms, she can reach the ground in this pose! You can also see how the modded waist joint lets her cock her hips.

She could always stand with locked knees. I think she needs some wire in her legs to let the suwariko joints hold their rotation against gravity, but I'll see how the elastic tension settles in first.

A parting shot out the snowy window. We've been having a hard time picking between a few names for her, but I think this settles it. Welcome back, Fubuki~

[rookie-ramsey]

Curveball, Chapter 6

Description: Two months after the ski lodge, life throws them a big surprise.

Preview: The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

previous chapter

The baby shower began with lunch. Olivia got to go first, making sure to take at least one of everything. She took a seat next to Ethan at the table and leaned against his side as they started eating.

“How does it feel seeing a baby shower in your apartment? It looks like the baby aisle at Walmart exploded in here.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m more concerned about what the conversation over there is related to.”

She arched a brow, watching curiously as Sienna whispered with Olivia’s mother and siblings and Alan in the corner of the room. “What could our relatives be gossiping about? My sister is writing something.”

“It’s hard to tell.”

After a few minutes, Sienna stood up and grinned. “We’re going to warm up with a little guessing game. I’ll tell a childhood story about one of the parents, and you guys get to guess who it was!”

Olivia couldn’t contain an amused smirk. “I guess this means I get to hear some more delightful Little Ethan stories.”

“Apparently so.” Ethan sighed.

Sienna glanced down at the paper and giggled before reading. “This parent used to wear a white bathrobe and plastic stethoscope and played hospital with stuffed animals. Who thinks that was Olivia?”

Several hands went up. Ethan bit back a smirk as her cheeks flushed a little.

“That’s right,” her mom confirmed. “She waltzed around the house in a little white robe, used every room in the house as a hospital room for her ‘patients,’ and insisted that we had to give them privacy.”

“It sounds like I’m finally getting some blackmail material,” Ethan whispered, earning an eye roll.

“Sure you are. Nothing will ever be more embarrassing than little you making out with your teddy bear.”

Sienna moved onto the next one. “True or false! When Ethan was really little, he had a fascination with Band-Aids.”

“Why do I think that’s true?” Olivia grinned.

“Because it is,” Alan confirmed. “When he was a toddler, all it took was a box of Band-Aids to keep him amused for several minutes. Of course, he put them on everything he could get his hands on. His toys, the furniture… the interior of the car on a road trip.”

Olivia laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“It’s wasteful.” Ethan shook his head, trying not to smile. The game continued for several minutes until people were finished eating.

Curious, Olivia watched as Sienna set out several unlabeled jars of baby food. “What are those for?”

Sienna grinned. “People have to guess the flavor by smelling it or taking a tiny taste if they’re brave enough. Just a heads up, the smells and tastes may not always be accurate!”

“Who goes first?”

“You pick.” Sienna handed her a basket containing slips of paper. Olivia reached it into, digging her fingers through the papers until she picked one. She opened it slowly to increase the suspense and smirked when she read the name.

“Zaid.”

Zaid startled, his eyes widening. “What?”

Amused, Olivia revealed the paper slip with his name on it. “You get to go first.”

Ines laughed and nudged Zaid toward the table. “Do it.”

He sighed. “I should have listened to my conscience and not put my name on that paper. I should have known better.”

Baz rolled his eyes and grinned. “Okay, Eeyore. Be a fair sport and play the game.”

Giving in, Zaid picked up the first jar and took a tentative sniff. He immediately set it down. “Is that supposed to smell edible? Because it does not.” He jotted down an answer on the slip of paper and reluctantly moved to the next one.

Olivia picked the second name. “Bryce, you’re up. Don’t chicken out.”

“You think I’d really back down? Never.” He picked up the first jar and smelled it, wrinkling his nose with uncertainty.

Jackie snorted. “I’ll pay you ten bucks to taste a mouthful.”

“Deal.”

Sienna handed Bryce a clean tongue depressor from the bag of supplies. “Here you go.”

Ethan arched a brow. “Are those from the hospital?”

“We didn’t have enough plastic spoons!”

“Stealing an entire Ziploc baggie of tongue depressors from a hospital that has thousands of them? Badass.” Bryce laughed and dug out a scoop of the baby food. He put it in his mouth, immediately making a face.

“Ten dollars,” Jackie reminded him.

Bryce swallowed it and tried not to gag. “That… was gross. Zaid, I’ll do your clinic hours if you try it.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a moron? Don’t answer that.”  

After a few more games, they sat down to open the inordinate number of presents occupying their apartment. Olivia grabbed the first one and dug through the tissue paper until she found two tiny sets of pajamas designed to look like scrubs.

“These are so cute!”

Elijah grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Olivia picked a large present from her mom and nudged it toward Ethan. “Open that.”

Ethan removed the paper, exposing a box that seemed to contain some sort of sophisticated trash can. “What in god’s name is this?”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s a diaper genie! It’s basically a fancy trash can that’s supposed to contain the diaper smell inside them.”

“These exist?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Yes, and believe me, you’ll need it. If not for the diaper smell, then to stop them from getting into it when they learn to walk. When Olivia was a year old, she felt like knocking over a trash can full of diapers. Worst mess I ever had to clean up.”

“Really, Mom?” Olivia groaned. She opened the next present, which was from Sienna. She opened it and grinned as she dug out two stuffed dolphins, as well as two little onesies with dolphins on them.

“What do you think?”

“I love them!” Olivia folded the tiny outfits and put them back in the bag. She opened several more gifts, collecting plenty of clothes, diapers, and other necessities. When she opened the present from Baz, she giggled and held up the four matching sets of Christmas pajamas.

Ethan stared at them, his expression blank. “It’s October.”

Baz grinned. “So?”

“These are perfect. And I will make it my life’s goal to get Ethan to wear his.” Olivia gave Ethan a pointed look, wordlessly telling him he would not win the argument even if it wouldn’t happen for another two months.

Once most of her guests had left, Olivia curled up on the couch and rummaged through the gifts. Bryce and Sienna stayed to help her family clean up while Ethan helped her sort through their presents.

“I think this is my favorite.” She held up the picture frame from Alan, containing a copy of one of their sonograms and an empty slot they would use for a newborn picture when the twins were born.

Ethan thumbed through the customized journal from Naveen. His other hand subconsciously rested on Olivia’s stomach, and a moment later he felt the now-familiar little kick against his palm.

Olivia smiled, lightly placing her hand on top of his. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how cute you are when you do that. I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it half the time.”

“I guess it’s become an instinct.” Ethan slipped his arm around her.

“A cute instinct.” She gave his hand a squeeze. Stifling a yawn, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s already October. By December, they’ll be here. I feel like it’s gone by fast and slowly at the same.”

Nodding in agreement, Ethan pressed a kiss to her head. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Opening presents and eating is a lot of work when you have two people inside of you.”

He chuckled and drew her closer to his side. “I’m sure it is.”

Olivia draped her arm across him and snuggled into his chest. A mischievous smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I never thought I’d see Dr. Antisocial Ramsey attending a baby shower.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “You forget that I’m capable of surprises.”

XXXXXX

It didn’t take long for maternity leave to give her cabin fever.

Since twins were almost always born earlier than expected, she scheduled her C-section for the 37th week. Even that was pushing it, but she wanted to let them develop as long as possible.

Halfway through her fourth episode of House, her phone chimed with a message from Ethan. She picked up her phone and grinned when she saw a picture of two baby onesies, each with the caption “Relax, my parents are doctors.”

She grinned as she looked at the picture to see that the onesies were blue and green to match Edenbrook’s logo. She typed a response, glancing at the time and realizing she would need to get ready for her appointment soon.

As she showered and dressed, a kick in her abdomen reminded her of just how soon their lives would change.

XXXXXX

As 1:30 approached, Ethan slipped out of his office to meet Olivia for her 35-week appointment. He pocketed his phone and car keys and made his way toward the elevator.

“Ethan!”

Ethan stopped, turning at the urgency of the voice behind him. He frowned, seeing Sienna rush toward him. “What happened?”

The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

He made his way to the closed curtain in the corner and shoved it aside, finding Olivia resting on the bed with Bryce standing at her side. She held an ice pack to her bruised temple, clutching her stomach with her other hand.

Olivia looked up, her eyes wide with panic. “Ethan, it’s… it’s too soon for this to happen! I’m not supposed to have the C-section for two more weeks! My… my water broke in the cab…”

“Shh…” Unsure if he was trying to calm himself or her, Ethan took her face into his hands and met her worried eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay. I want you to take a deep breath and focus on me. Okay?”

Breathing shakily, she tried to take a deep breath. The heart monitor next to her beeped sharply, indicating her rising blood pressure. She winced when a contraction tore through her.

Ethan looked up, forcing his voice to remain steady for her sake. “Lahela, who’s on the OR floor right now?”

“Tanaka, but he’s in a heart transplant right now.”

“Scrub in.”

Bryce’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I’m her friend.”

“Bryce, please. We can’t risk waiting too long,” Olivia pleaded, her voice trembling.

Bryce took one look into his best friend’s panicked eyes and nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Taking Olivia’s hand into his own, Ethan let out a small sigh of relief. “How nervous will you be?”

“More nervous than I’d be operating on a stranger, but I can do it. I promise,” Bryce assured him. “Let’s go.”

Ethan moved to the head of the bed. He kept a firm grip on Olivia’s hand as they rushed to the available operating room. Her hand clutched his tightly, seeking the reassurance. When they reached the OR, she squeezed her eyes shut against the threat of tears.

“Hey…” Ethan’s hand cradled her cheek. “Everything will be alright. Please try to believe me.”

“I’m trying…”

He helped her turn onto her side so she could receive the injection for the spinal block. Olivia gripped his hand, wincing when the needle pierced her skin. She let out a long sigh as Ethan gently turned her onto her back again.

Sensing her need for comfort, Ethan brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Talk to me. Try not to focus on the risks right now. Tell me the likelihood of both babies being fine.”

Olivia’s face furrowed in thought as she wracked her mind. “Babies delivered at 35 weeks have a 99 percent chance of survival, presuming that they don’t have pre-existing conditions.”

Ethan nodded, relieved when she seemed to relax a little. “You’re right. Remember that.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he tried to convince himself to believe his own words. They gave the spinal block five minutes to take effect before transferring her to the operating table.

Ethan’s heart thudded against his ribs as Bryce and the surgical team he’d assembled gathered around, ready to begin. “Please tell me this isn’t your first time.”

“I’ve done one solo and assisted on three. I can do this,” Bryce assured him. He took a deep breath and firmly gripped the correct scalpel. “Ready to make the first incision.”

Ethan rested his hand on Olivia’s cheek. His thumb gently grazed her jaw. “Bryce is starting now. Focus on me and think about the fact that in just a few minutes, the babies will be here and they’ll be fine.”

Olivia leaned into his hand and drew in a long breath. With the numbing agent, she couldn’t feel the incisions. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on Ethan’s fingers raking gently through her hair.

The minutes that passed ticked by agonizingly as she tried to think about anything other than the chance of something beyond their control going wrong. Her racing heart slowed just a little, allowing some of the tension to leave her body when Bryce announced that they were in.

“Everything’s going fine. Just keep hanging in there, okay? I can see the first baby,” Bryce assured her.

“Hear that?” Ethan laced his fingers through hers. “They’ll be out soon.”

Olivia nodded, her movements slowing a little. The monitor next to her beeped as her blood pressure suddenly started to drop, first to a normal rate and then a little lower. Ethan frowned, worry etching his features.

“Her BP is dropping. She could become hypotensive.” He knew the complication was common during cesareans and that there was only a minimal chance of serious risks, but that didn’t stop his heart from racing faster.

Bryce picked up the pace a little, keeping his hands steady as he finished the incision and instructed one of the other residents to place the clamps. “We’re ready to get baby number one out!”

Moments later, a cry rang through the operating room as Bryce removed the first baby. When Bryce passed the newborn to him, Ethan reacted with an instinct he didn’t know he had and immediately cradled his son in his arms.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, swelling with affection. Olivia blined groggily before slipping into unconsciousness. His throat tightened with anxiety as he reluctantly surrendered the newborn to a nurse for an examination.

“Olivia.” He firmly patted her cheek, torn between fear and relief when she let out a subconscious groan in response. A minute later, he looked up as Bryce removed the second baby.

For a long moment, time slowed to a crawl when the baby remained quiet. Just as Ethan felt his chest clench with panic, the newborn emitted a loud cry that made him weak in the knees. He held his arms out, accepting his daughter into them. His heart stuttered in his chest as he gazed down at the fussing baby.

He held her for a few moments before letting the nurses take her. His mind swam with mixed emotions as he returned to Olivia’s side.

Ethan waited nervously as Bryce closed her up. A relieved sigh escaped him when Olivia’s blood pressure started to creep towards normal. “Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Good work.”

Once Olivia was transferred into a private room, Ethan stepped into the hallway. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and started the call. “Dad? If you’re not busy, you might want to make a trip to Boston…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Your grandchildren were just born. I thought I’d… did you already hang up?” Shaking his head, Ethan slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up as Naveen approached him, a wide grin on his face.

“I just heard some gossip that my two favorite employees just became parents.”

Ethan nodded, unable to stop a wide smile from forming on his face. Naveen pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. Ethan returned it, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. “Olivia passed out during the C-section, but she’ll be okay. She should be awake in just a couple of minutes.”

“I won’t keep you from her. I’ll come meet those babies later. You go be with your family.” Naveen released him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you.” The smile never left Ethan’s face as he quietly slipped back into the room to check on Olivia and the babies.

His family.

He liked the sound of that.

Next Chapter

Note: This was definitely my favorite chapter so far. Stay tuned for more! 

[collecting-stories]

3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur. 

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol. 

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.  

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.  

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.  

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.  

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.  

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.  

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”  

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.  

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.  

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.  

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.  

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.  

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.  

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.  

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”  

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”  

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.  

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.  

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.  

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.  

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.  

-

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.  

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.  

“I can ask for her.”  

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.  

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.  

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”  

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.  

-

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.  

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.  

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.  

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.  

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.  

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”  

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.  

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.  

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.  

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.  

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”  

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.  

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.  

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.  

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.  

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.  

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.  

At least you’d have a good story to tell.  

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.  

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.  

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.  

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.  

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”  

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.  

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.  

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.  

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, “sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.  

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.  

“Always right down to business,” you teased.  

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.  

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”  

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.  

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.  

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.  

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.  

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.  

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.  

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.  

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.  

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.  

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.  

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.  

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.  

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.  

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.  

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.  

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.  

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.  

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.  

“Are you?”  

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.  

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.  

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.  

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.  

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.  

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.  

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”  

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”  

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”  

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”  

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”  

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.  

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.  

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.  

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”  

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.  

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.  

-

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.  

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at  her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.  

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.  

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”  

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.  

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”  

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.  

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.  

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”  

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.  

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.  

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”  

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”  

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.  

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.  

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.  

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”  

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.  

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.  

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“  

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.  

-

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[pkg4mumtown]

Consign Me Not To Darkness (Ch. 2)

Summary: Being trained by the maverick Jedi meant you had a looser view of the code than most Padawans did, but how well would that serve you when no Jedi were taught how to love?

Pairing: Qui-Gon/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: M (to be safe because of Chapter 1)

Warnings: Age Gap, Angst, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: First Qui-Gon centered fic! It’s finally here and I hope you all enjoy. Thank you, Nura, for the request <3.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The bed was far too cold without Qui-Gon in it. The man was basically a personal radiator for you to wrap yourself around, making his absence all too prevalent. Then, there was the matter of the lack of communication that only made your chest hurt every time you thought about it. Still, you got up for the day, knowing your amount of rest was growing suspicious until you remembered that no one was there to wake you. Meditation probably would have done you well, considering your emotions, but you didn’t want to dwell on them at the moment.

Quite the opposite actually.

A quick snack and extended training session later, you still couldn’t feel Qui-Gon anywhere. On your walk back to your room, you saw Master Windu leaving his own, probably on his way to a meeting.

“Master Windu!” You called out to him to get his attention.

“Padawan, what can I do for you?” He asked once you caught up to him.

“Do you know where Master Jinn is? He disappeared yesterday and didn’t mention where he was going…”

“He asked for a solo mission and left early this morning. He said you had some studies to catch up on to keep you occupied,” Mace recounted. “Will that be all?”

“Y-Yes, Master Windu, thank you,” You bowed to him and back tracked back to your room.

A solo mission? Studies? What a load of bantha fodder!

When you got to your rooms, you immediately tried to comm him, but the signal was never answered. You felt emotion welling up in your throat, something you knew wasn’t a good thing. You tried to take deep breaths through your constricting throat, keeping your tears at bay and releasing your emotions into the force like a good Jedi. It was far harder than it should have been.

That night you slept in your own bed to keep the reminder of Qui-Gon’s absence away.

A tenday later, as you collapsed from another grueling training session, you felt a familiar presence just barely entering the temple. You sat up from the floor and looked around. The room was clean, cleaner than it had been in a while with not much to do but train and clean. Hopefully, he didn’t notice the dark circles under your eyes from a lack of solid sleep.

“Qui-Gon!” you greeted excitedly when he arrived, but instead of greeting you back with the same vigor, he brushed passed you.

“Padawan,” he murmured, dropping his bag near the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a mission? I was looking for you for hours…” you asked but received no answer. He kept walking like he’d never heard you, keeping his back to you. “Qui? I miss—,” you reached out with your arms to hug from behind.

“Stop,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. He took a step further from you, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what…?” You asked slowly.

“This anymore. Us,” he stressed.

You heart dropped into your stomach, your throat constricting as if someone had taken all the air from your lungs, “W—wh—hy?

“I cant keep pretending like I don’t hate myself every time I think about this gap between us, Y/N! I’m twice your age!” he leaned heavily against the small kitchen counter, not even having the decency to face you.

“B—but, we’ve talked about this! I don’t care!”

“I know, but… I do. I just—I can’t. If you’re going to break the code, break it for someone younger, someone better.”

“You’re being ridiculous! You said that our love was light! That the Force willed it!” You snarled back, your frustrations starting to manifest rapidly.

“I know what I said, Y/N! Stop fighting me on this!” He growled impatiently. “You have no idea how I felt watching you spar with that other Padawan, like my control was slipping. I’m a Master for Force’s sake. I felt like a disgusting, jealous old man!” Qui-Gon practically spat. “We’re done. I knew this was a bad idea as soon as I reciprocated your confession,” he said dismissively, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I knew you were…too young,” he stumbled over his words as if he was forcing himself to say them out loud for once.

Your chest ached at his words, the emotion continuing to choke you up. You couldn’t breathe or control your emotions. You felt something dark and suffocating simmering below the surface but tried to push it down as far as you could, but it was hard and the rage was threatening to burst from your chest. Your nails dug deep grooves into your palms as you clenched your fists, the pain barely registering through the dark clouding your mind. No doubt, by the way his shoulders tensed, he could sense the darkness through the bond, as well.

If he could affect you like this, then he was right. Neither of you could do this. You were practically choking on the dark side already. You heaved air in your chest and stormed out of the room, only letting your tears fall briefly before you remembered your surroundings in the Temple hallway. You walked aimlessly, or you at least thought you did. With each step away from him, the darkness eased back as you did your best to release the emotions.

You had no idea what was going to happen, now. He wouldn’t go to the Council and accuse you—you had as much incriminating information as he did—though it was his word against yours, but you also couldn’t continue learning under him with the darkness this close, you knew that much.

You stopped, faced with, the newly ranked, Master Fisto's door, a familiar, calming energy on the other side. He was one of the Jedi who had found you long ago, only a relatively new knight at the time, but you had regarded him as an important person ever since, akin to an older brother.

You didn’t even have to knock before his presence slid the door open before you, sensing the distress radiating off of you just on the other side of his door.

“Young one, what’s happened?” His hand came up to your shoulder, his neck bending to look you in the eyes better.

All you could do was choke on another sob and he was not so heartless as to leave you standing there. Kit brought you in for a hug to try and calm you down.

“You need to tell me what happened, your emotions are…” He trailed off, not knowing how to describe them.

“Out of control—I know,” you croaked. You took some steadying breaths, “I…Qui-Gon…I—I love him, Kit. We—”

“Stop…stop, I understand. The less I know, the better,” Kit sighed loudly.

“I don’t know what to do, I can’t go back there, I can’t continue under him. I—I felt the dark side, Kit, I was so overwhelmed…”

“But, you didn’t fall, and that’s the most important part. That is a trial in itself, even if the Council will never know,” he reassured you.

“Can…can you finish my training? I can’t even look at him…” you scrubbed your face harshly.

“I—,” Kit sighed, “We can talk to the Council tomorrow, but he will have to be there to relinquish his duty as your Master.”

You let out a shaky sigh and finally pulled yourself away from Kit, “Okay.” You wiped your face from any more remnants of tears. “Can I sleep here?”

“Be my guest,” he gestured to the spare room.

You let out a sigh of relief, moving toward the room quickly.

“On one condition,” he stopped you in your tracks. “Meditate with me.”

“I don’t want to meditate right now, Kit,” you gritted out, the irritation getting the best of you. Qui-Gon always wanted to meditate the bad away and you didn’t feel like doing anything he would have done at the moment.

“You might not want to, but you need to,” he urged more firmly.

You growled softly under your breath and spun back to face him, “Fine.”

You found a comfortable position on the floor with Kit, feeling his hands grab yours. You let him in, feeling his mind caress yours on the surface, just enough to sense the swirling darkness. His force reeled back slightly when he realized how bad it was, but pressed on, helping you release a lot of your anger. It helped, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. You couldn’t solve everything by just releasing your emotions, you couldn’t forget the words Qui-Gon had slapped you with. As you struggled to work through the emotions, one thing became clearer as the dark subsided: If you wanted to be a Jedi, you had to let Qui-Gon go.

When Kit was satisfied with the darkness being brought down to a simmer, he finally let you up. He couldn’t let you face the Council with that much darkness clouding you. One of them would surely pick up on it.

“He does morning meditation at six, so I’ll go and change then,” You sighed as you made your way to the doorway.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I don’t want to trouble you so early, I’ll survive,” you shrugged. “Thanks again, Kit,” you passed through the doorway into his spare room.

After a night of fitful sleep, you blinked your eyes open when the sun was barely coming up. Glancing at your comm, you knew Qui would barely be getting up to head to morning meditation, so you waited another half hour before getting up. He would definitely be gone by then.

“I’ll be back, Kit,” you called out to his closed door.

“Wear something clean, please!”

You heard him shout back just before the door closed behind you. You rolled your eyes at his attempt at teasing, Kit really was your rock when you were struggling; things you wouldn’t dare admit to Qui-Gon during training.

You hesitated before swiping your keycard, seriously hoping Qui-Gon wasn’t still there. Alas, there was only one way to find out. The apartment was eerily quiet as you stepped in, which was a good sign. You made a beeline for your old room, quickly yanking out your least wrinkled tunics and tabards to quickly change into.

You had just finished cinching your obi around your waist when a voice you did not want to hear broke the silence.

“Padawan?”

You froze while adjusting the obi, quickly gulping and straightening our your tabards to make sure they were flat. You offered him no answer, not sure you could actually speak without falling apart.

“Y/N.”

When you were satisfied with your appearance, you finally turned to face him as if you just noticed the tall oaf for the first time. He hadn’t even gone to morning meditation. His hair was still down and mussed from sleep, a loose tunic hastily pulled over his chest, and pants hanging loosely from his hips.

“Oh, Master Jinn, pardon me,” You tried to speak in your best Jedi-like tone, but the waver in your voice gave you away.

“About yesterday…” His eyes were downcast, he couldn’t even look at you yet he wanted you to listen.

“Not to worry, Master, I’ve got it all sorted out,” you answered dutifully, your lip wobbling slightly as your throat threatened to betray your feigned confidence. His brows strung together, his head finally coming up. Qui-Gon’s eyes were just as red and puffy as yours, but you couldn’t be sympathetic when his words had cut so deeply. “I’m meeting with the council today.”

As if you’d just told him you were about to detonate a bomb, his eyes widened comically, “Wai—”

“Not to worry, Master Jinn, the atrocities you’re imagining won’t be discussed. Though, I’m sure they will call upon you for questions, so do try to be in the area,” I plastered on a fake smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Before you could push past him he took you by the elbow, making you turn your head away from the contact lest you start bawling then and there.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his back hunched over in your direction, his eyes trying to search your face for answers but you kept your face hidden in the other direction.

“What’s best for me,” you stated and ripped your elbow from his hold. “For both of us.”

You stood in front of the Council with your head held high. Kit stood somewhere behind you, letting you take the lead on the explanation. Your eyes actively tried to avoid Master Yoda’s curious gaze, like he’d be able to read every thought in your head if you so much as glanced at his piercing, inquisitive eyes.

“What exactly are you asking here, Padawan L/N?” Master Windu questioned, his frown deepening with every passing second.

“To be reassigned to a different Master until I’m ready for the trials, Master Windu,” you stated like it was a normal occurrence that Jedi did.

“Under what reasoning?” Master Mundi spoke up.

“No confidence, Master.”

“This is preposterous, we can’t just vote out Masters like senators,” Master Mundi scoffed. “Jinn has unconventional methods that the Council doesn’t agree with, but that doesn’t mean we can just take away his Padawan for seemingly no reason,” he addressed to the rest of the Council.

“I don’t feel that I will be ready for my trials if I continue training under Master Jinn,” which wasn’t a total lie, you wouldn’t, and would be more likely to fall if you stayed with him. “The force has guided me to this conclusion, Masters, it is not something I’m taking lightly.”

“Replace Master Jinn, who will?” Master Yoda hummed.

“I spoke to Master Fisto before the meeting, Grandmaster,” you gulped, staring just past him at the windows.

“Master Fisto?” Windu questioned him.

“I will graciously accept Padawan L/N if the Council wills it,” Kit bowed.

“Talk to Master Jinn, we will,” Yoda hummed, squinting suspiciously at the situation.

“Very well, Grandmaster. I believe you’ll find that he shares the same sentiments that I do.”

Chapter 3

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 8

Details were scattered but I remember Skinner ushered me away from the crime scene. I argued that it was my investigation, he said that there was nothing more I needed to do. I stumbled towards the elevator and saw Byers exit, holding his medical satchel. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I saw him mouth the words: you look terrible. The room felt like it was spinning in slow motion, like the sensation you get when you’re falling in a dream. Delirium had set in. Too bad my one vice was alcohol otherwise I’d swallow an upper to get myself back on course; my liver could hate me later. I rode the elevator down and managed to get out to the curb. I hailed a cab since I couldn’t remember if I drove myself. By the grace of God, and an honest cabbie, I made it home alive.

The sleeping pill did a mediocre job; I felt groggy and sore, hungover minus the whiskey. I rolled over and squinted at the alarm clock. About twelve hours had passed since I left two dead bodies in the precinct interrogation rooms. Afternoon sunlight radiated through my window and I knew I had to get the day started. I found a small bit of food in my pantry to calm my angry stomach and some water straight from the tap to rehydrate. My clothes should probably be tossed in the incinerator but then I would be down one dress shirt. I stripped and stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as I could stand. It sputtered at first but soon rushed against my chest. I scrubbed my hair and switched to the soap, finally feeling clean for the first time in two days. A layer of grime swirled down the drain. I stood firmly under the spray and let it beat mercilessly against my upper back and shoulders. Hands braced the shower wall and my eyes closed heavy.

Scalding water and steam tried to purify me. I stayed under until the temperature cooled. A deep exhale and I cut the tap, hearing the ancient pipes shudder. I pushed the curtain aside and grabbed the towel from the hook, drying off then wrapping it tightly around my waist. I wiped away the thin layer of fog on the small medicine cabinet mirror above the sink. My reflection was certainly worse for wear. Bruises were now that off-shade of yellow and dark circles carved unappealing lines under my eyes. The shaving foam canister and my straight razor looked lonely on the shelf. I walked into the bedroom and pulled open the dresser drawer to retrieve a pair of boxer shorts and an undershirt. I tossed the towel onto the bed and as I dressed the phone rang from the bedside table.

“This is Mulder,” I answered, reaching for the discarded towel.

“It’s Frohike,” he cleared his throat, “I was trying to reach you earlier but there was no answer.”

“Sorry about that. These sleeping pills pack a wallop.” My voice sounded ragged, like I had swallowed gravel.

“Remind me to get the brand name,” Frohike said. I maneuvered the phone and dried my hair,

“I hope you’re calling with some good news.”

“Good is a relative term, my friend. Byers and Langley did a fine job on Mr. Lodi’s autopsy and came to the conclusion that cyanide was the poison of choice.”

“A cyanide capsule? He did himself in?”

“The poison was definitely ingested but not from a broken capsule, we didn’t find any residue. He might have had something to eat or drink that was laced with it.”

I thought for a moment.

“The water cup. There was an empty cup on the floor in the room when I walked in.”

“There’s those fine detective skills.” Frohike jabbed.

“Sharp as a tack. Although I sure as hell didn’t suspect a mole in the precinct.”

“An inside job. The plot thickens.” His intrigue was so palpable I could taste it through the phone.

“This all has to tie back to Spender somehow,” I began, “Someone higher up was steamed that we were getting too close to solving this case and took out our suspects. There are more pens in the inkwell than I thought.” I picked up the phone and walked to sit on the bed, “Could you find any prints?”

“The doorknob had a myriad including yours and Captain Skinner’s but nothing we could go on. And the only prints on the paper cup belonged to Lodi. Our culprit must have used gloves.”

“He most likely added the poison while at the water cooler. Essentially slipped him a killer mickey,” I sighed heavily, “Did you get to work on Theo?”

“Getting ready to sharpen my scalpel, though I’m sure to find much of the same as we did on contestant number one. When I’m done I’ll send him and Lodi over to Washington General.”

“Alright. I’ll finish up here then hit the precinct.” I hung up and left the phone on the bed then returned to the bathroom sink. My hand hit the faucet right as a sharp loud knock hit my front door. I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. I really wanted to ignore it but they were persistent. Instinct told me to grab my Browning from the bedside table. I checked the safety and cautiously approached the rapping at my door. To my surprise there was a petite figure in a white uniform on the other side of the peephole. I flipped the lock but kept the chain intact.

“What are you doing here?” I asked through the crack in the door.

“Something happened,” Scully said tentatively and leaned closer, “May we talk inside?” I looked down the hall and closed the door to undo the chain then gently ushered her in. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and quickly looked away as I placed my weapon on a nearby table.

“Scully, what happened?” I questioned, trying to think of what possible reason she had to come to my apartment. It felt different seeing her in her nurse’s uniform and not being a patient. The standard crisp white dress with sharp collar, matching nylons, and patent shoes were a polar opposite to the flattering outfit the last time we met. I then felt her eyes search me and I straightened up.

“Mulder, would you mind getting dressed first?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. I glanced down then nodded and went to the bedroom. Personally I never really bothered with modesty.

“You talk, I’ll listen,” I called as I found a pair of trousers. The sound of her heels soon echoed on the hardwood floor and she hovered near the doorway, careful but curious.

“A body came in last night that washed up near one of the marinas on the Washington Channel. The pathologist was short-handed and I was made conveniently available to assist on the autopsy.”

“Is that out of the ordinary?” I asked as I tucked in my shirt and zipped up.

“The body or the task I was given?” she playfully retorted.

I chuckled. This one is razor sharp.

“I only ask because I thought you worked in the emergency room.”

“My training is versatile,” she countered, inching a little more into my bedroom. “Sometimes I’m pulled in other directions if there’s a need. Also it’s a nice opportunity to learn.”

There was an underlying tone in her voice that she wanted to do more than her position allowed. I could picture her taking charge during the war; delegating to fellow nurses, keeping a cool head, spreading herself thin to help whenever and wherever she could. But fate can give with one hand and take with the other. After the men returned home, a lot of good women were forced out of those opportunities. My sister went through something similar after pulling swing shifts at a shipyard in Boston. So I suppose I’m a little biased.

“Anything strange about the stiff?” I asked, getting my train of thought back on the rails.

“From the license in his wallet we found he drove a cab. I’m surprised you didn’t get a call about it.”

“Honey, thanks to some Grade A sleeping pills I didn’t hear that phone ring until about an hour ago.”

Scully shook her head and continued,

“Well, this poor cabbie was stabbed repeatedly.”

“Could have been a robbery gone wrong,” I offered as I pulled on my socks and shoes, “Was there still cash in the wallet?” She considered the question.

“I can’t remember, I was taking notes on the condition of the body. There were about six deep stab wounds from a medium blade. Standard bloating and decomposition from blood loss and being in the water for a few hours. Certainly looked like a murder to me.”

“Do you mind if I shave?” I asked while pointing towards the bathroom. She raised an eyebrow at my strange interjection. Frankly I was trying to lighten the mood a little, keep her at ease while she recounted events.

“Go right ahead,” her head tilted slightly, “you certainly could use it.” Scully tacked that on as she coyly rubbed her upper arm.

I offered a smirk then turned on the faucet and lathered up. She was within eyeshot, watching and waiting to continue..

“Tell me what happened next.”

“The pathologist and I completed the autopsy and as I left the morgue I was confronted by someone. He asked my name but didn’t give me his. I waited for him to show me an ID or badge but he never did.”

Scully paused and I turned my head to see she had boldly entered the room and took a seat on my bed. I could tell from where I was standing her demeanor changed, her brow furrowed. My focus turned for a moment back to the mirror so as not to slice open my upper lip.

“Scully?” I prompted after a precision scrape.

“Yes...sorry. The man asked if I knew you.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked as I finished an area under my chin.

“I played dumb of course.”

“Smart girl.” I said to myself before splashing water on fresh skin.

“Apparently that was the wrong answer because he grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into the first open room.”

I stepped out of the bathroom, suddenly taking great interest in busting this assailant’s kneecaps when I found him.

“I was warned,” Scully continued, lacing her fingers together, “he said to stay away from you, Mulder. He said that if I was stupid enough to talk to you then he and his associates would come after me for what I know.”

“Describe him,” I said harshly as I moved closer, feeling the remaining drops of water prickle against my cheeks. She closed her eyes for a moment. Those baby blues blinked open and she stared through me, developing a picture of him on the wall.

“Fairly young, maybe late twenties. Brown hair I think...he was wearing a hat. Dark eyes, sharp nose, oddly perfect teeth. His smile was broad and gave the impression of being pleasant, though I could tell he was a sleaze.”

My hand went to the back of my neck to damper the bubbling rage. I couldn’t blow my stack yet. What the hell game is he playing? How much did he know? I ran my hand over my face, collecting moisture then drying my palm on my hip. I needed to get her somewhere safe until I got some more answers. Her gaze met mine and I touched her shoulder.

“Did you drive here or take a bus?”

“The bus. I came straight from the hospital, why?”

“I want to make sure you weren’t followed. We’re going to the precinct.”

“Mulder, no.”

“Scully, listen to me.” But she was already on her feet and heading out of the room.

“I don’t need protection.” She stiffened as I followed her.

“Then why did you come here? You could have easily flipped open a telephone book and given me a ring instead.”

“I was frightened,” her voice broke and she tried to hide it, “In a moment of fear you don’t make wholly rational decisions, but I knew I could trust you.

I stepped closer, moving through a cloud of uncertainty and tenderly cupped her cheek. Scully closed her eyes and softened against my touch. A pang of guilt resonated in my chest, her exhale hummed through closed lips.

“Let’s go.” I said softly.

She nodded and I collected my weapon, my grey fedora, and showed her out. Once in the hallway we walked towards the elevator.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I began before pressing the button, “You are going to take the stairs down and head out the back door, through the alley, and over to the next block. Then take a cab to the 3rd District precinct…”

“Mulder…”

“Look, I don’t care if they know where I live. I don’t want them to follow you home.”

Her lips parted as she tried to say something but I kept going,

“Once you arrive at the 3rd, ask for Melvin Frohike and wait with him until I get there. He might have his colleagues in the lab but don’t worry they’re harmless.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked with concern.

“I’m going down the elevator and straight out the front door, hoping to catch a glimpse of this guy.”

I felt her fingers brush against my hand. To my surprise she lifted her heels and quickly planted a soft kiss on my lips. I held the back of her head and returned the favor.

“Be careful,” she said as we separated.

“You too, angel.” I replied and adjusted my hat with a wink.

[keigoloveminty]

Diamond

Plot: After getting her heartbroken for 6th times, y/n is finally done and decided to not even bother finding another one, she has more options than she thinks she has

Pairing/s: Hawks x Reader, Izuku x reader, Todoroki x reader, Shinsou x reader, Dabi x reader, Shigaraki x reader, Genten x reader, Aizawa x reader 

All characters are aged up to 25+ 

Warning: Mafia Au, LOV crew is soft to reader,(No Yandere’s just jealous and angry exes :>), also this is me not continuing my other fanfics-- please I just wanna finish it without having another idea again HAHAHHAHA (I have to finish a request as well :’>)

You weren't sure what you’ve done in the past month now, you’ve just got your heartbroken-- again and for the 6th time now. You didn’t know what to do so you just laid there in bed starring at the window that showed you it was broke daylight and here you were, covered in your huge fluffy blanket with blood shot eyes from crying last night, your eyes were still watery and a bit scratchy be honest. You really want to just get up and get ready for the day but you were starring at the window for the past 3 hours now, you woke up exactly at 5am and it was now 9:20 am, you’ve heard your phone go off a lot of times and made you irritated that you turned off your phone and setting up an alarm clock to wake you up early. You’ve just moved to your new place a couple weeks ago, for a normal person it would've took them months to get settled into a new space but due to your connections with Shigaraki, you both were very close and whenever you had a break-up you’ll always end up in his apartment picking up a new place for you and your shop to relocate at. You and Shigaraki go way back to grade school along with his friend named Dabi if you remembered correctly but you both didn't see each other everyday and if you did you guess he had time off from the ‘Family business’ he would always say to you. You didnt want to push the subject any further so you just nodded and never brought the subject up, you couldn't help but try to guess what family business you thought he had so you made it a personal goal to guess what kind of job he had. 

When you told him if he has a job that sold houses-- considering he would help you find one to your liking within a few hours of looking and then making sure there was someone to buy your old house and transferred the money to your account. All the houses were within your budget since your shop was really successful and you were glad you had something to distract you and keep you busy whenever you were going through a heartbreak, all the sweet and sugary things you baked and made made you temporarily forget the sadness but it takes times for you to heal on your own but as soon as you've had you 3rd break up you kind off found a few ways to heal. You were always the one who would confess first and the first one to get heartbroken as well, sometimes you didn’t know why or what have you done to even get dumped in the first place because you always made sure not upset them in any way. If they needed space then you would give them time to breath but then after days of not talking to them to give them space they were suddenly throwing themselves to another person and dumping you the next days, so whenever you fought with your partner you were already ringing up Shigaraki to find you a new place and reserving it for you.

You’ve moved to a lot of places with your parents back when they were still with you but now that they weren't with you since they died peacefully, you kept the shop that both of your parents build up and kept the business up and going. Shigaraki was always there by your side whenever you called and if not your both would talk to each other through the phone for hours until one of you has to go, you were always happy to talk to him whenever he had to vent up something when something happens in his ‘Family Business’. Back to the topic of this ‘Family Business’, there were months of you not meeting Shigaraki since he had to fly somewhere far from Japan which mean he had a different time zone than you. Dabi was a second option to hangout with but he was always not available every time you tried to call and tell him to hangout with you but whenever he did he would come in clothed fully for top to bottom, you guess it was because he had to cover the scars from his past that you refrained from asking him too much, back then he would always have his arms wrapped in bandages to school. When you would ask him he would always brush it off as ‘I fell down a stairs’ or ‘I accidentally used my quirk too much’ and you did know when he used his quirk it would cause his whole body to heat up causing his skin to be burned, Cremation is his quirk, a blue flame-- the hottest part of any flame. He always told you how much he didn’t really have a good relationship with his father and that he would always say that he’d one day leave his house and just crash with Shigaraki, you nod at this as you applied a clean bandage over his arms carefully.

In this current day of age, half of the people who had quirks were called special people and those who don't have a quirk were called quirkless people and at covered least 60% of the population while the other half were people with quirks. As soon as people with different types of quirks arise it shock the whole nation and caused both side to drift apart which cause chaos, the other side tried to fight and fend off the side that had quirks which didn’t ended well. As truce, an organisation was built to control people who would use their quirks for power, people with quirks who didn’t had the same idea with the idea of over throwing the people who didn’t had quirks went against their own kind and protected the ones who didn’t have quirks. So naturally they were praised by people and would call them ‘Heroes’ but that still wasn't enough seemingly as the people who had stronger quirks were on the other side, they called those people of that side Mafia’s or Yakuza’s. They didn’t like the thought of the government controlling them so they went against them, the world of mafia’s was something unknown to you and it wasn't like you didnt know them but you somewhat wanted to know what their world looked like. It’s hard to even spot someone who work is basically selling guns, drugs, killing people or anything that's deemed illegal. You were curious but you never tried to even look for one so you tend to just keep away from alley ways or even night outs since you’ve been told that it was dangerous out night, you got that from Shigaraki and Dabi as well as your other friends that you’ve befriended.

You were curious but you were not stupid enough to even seek out let alone coincidentally stumble upon one and you did not want that to happen, another ring sounds through the whole room and you looked at your table side. You reached out and grabbed it looking at the name, the brightness of your phone illuminating your whole face 

Keigo Takami 

You sighed and silenced your phone, you should changed your sim card and made sure to just save the ones you needed to save, you either have to tolerate your phone ringing every now and then, get a new phone and sim card or just completely destroy this phone and just get a new one but you didn’t want the hassle of buying a new phone anyway. You pushed the blanket off your whole body and stretched your arms and got off the bed and went straight to the bathroom and freshen up, there were still a lot of unpacked boxes that littered around the apartment some open some still sealed closed. You tipped toed around the boxes scattered around and finally you got to your bathroom, you flipped the lights on and looked at yourself through the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at the state you were in, you sighed and turned on the faucet to wash your face and remove whatever dirt was on your face. After that you ran a warm shower, being generous with the shampoo for your long hair, scrubbing your scalp then rubbing the ends of your hair, next is conditioner. You washed off the conditioner then grabbed a loofa and scrubbed off all the dead skin, you washed your whole body then turning the shower off, you grabbed the towel from the counter and wrapped it around your body, blow dried your hair then stepped out of the room to find something to wear. You walked in front of your closet and just grab what ever you see first, you grabbed a medium sized polo-- your guessing it was from Dabi sleeping over for awhile and forgot to bring it back with him-- and a high waisted shorts. You weren't sure if you’ll step outside from your apartment since you weren't even finish putting the shop up, arranging your cooking appliances downstairs from your three story building-- thank Shigaraki for giving you such nice places to stay at. 

At first you were a bit skeptical of choosing this place but Shigaraki told you this one had a lot more room and floors for you to decorate and do whatever you want. The building was three stories high, on the first floor you had your bakery shop, on the second floor is where your home is with plenty of and on the third floor is the roof top. You haven’t started any decorating on the roof top you might just use it as a place just to chill and maybe just plant some flowers or maybe vegetables and fruits or maybe you’ll just put up a table and a couple of chairs for you to just chill there whenever you feel like you need to take a break. The rent for this building was reasonable enough for to rent it, due to the money your receiving from your ‘distant relatives’, you’ve never talked to them all you had was a two credit cards where they sent you more than enough money to spend on something every month. If your lucky they might send you twice the amount next month or send more money on the 3rd week of each month, that's all the connection you had with them you didn’t even know where they even live so as much as you want to thank them for being so generous in sending you money. You sat in front of your vanity and grabbed you brush and started brushing your long silky hair, after you ran your finger through your hair you picked up a hair tie and put your hair up in a high ponytail, you placed your brush down making sure pull out the hairs that were stuck in the brush and threw it straight to the trash. You looked on the table searching for any accessory that you could wear, moving both your hands to searching for anything, after looking around your eyes locked on a slick black box. You reached for it and opened it slowly, the box held a precious Diamond crystal necklace and two diamond earrings in heart form, you picked the earrings up and decided to just wear that. That was a gift from Shigaraki for your 24th birthday last year, you smiled at the memory and stood up from your seat and fixed some of your baby hairs that framed your face, you looked at the time 11:20 am. You sighed and smiled and raised both of your arms,”Okay! Its time to finish the shop!”

---

You swiped the sweat that formed on your forehead as you carried the last box of your baking ingredients to the back, the shop was just about ready to open since Dabi finished putting up all the table and chairs, the small vases on the table, the picture frames, set up the display glass that will show case your delicious sweets and lastly your cash register. Meanwhile you were working at the back placing where all the cooking utensils, bowls, mixers will be, Dabi also help you with that once he was done in the front. You placed all the last ingredients, you did one look around the place and let out a happy sigh and leaned back on the marbled table,”You certainly finished all work now did ya’ doll?”, you let out a scream and looked at the direction where the voice was. You let a breath of relief when you saw who it was,”Dabi can't you please tell me when you decide to visit me? I could've hit you with a spatula..”, you crossed your arms in front of you and pouted looking at him. Dabi rolls his eyes and zips down his black hoodie,”I thought you got used to me popping up now and then, sorry about that doll”, his nickname to you back in high school, you liked it so you didnt complain. “You need something? I could bake your favourite dessert if you want?”, You asked him as you walk to get the ingredients, he stops you by reaching your arm and grabbing it softly. You looked at him with a questioning look,”Hm? What is it, Dabi?”, you turned you whole body to face him, he looks straight into your e/c eyes with his teal eyes. His eyes narrows his eyes when he picks up those almost unnoticeable eye bags as moves closer to your face, you noticed he was starring too much at you, you turned you head away not noticing a small smirk from Dabi but quickly as it came it disappeared into a small frown,”Sorry I could've been there to comfort you its just that.. my job called me right the time I thought I had a day off”, he apologises. His hand that was on your arm slowly slides up to cup you cheeks, his thumb caresses you soft cheek, you leaned into his soft touch and closed your eyes. 

Dabi smiles and gentle pulls your head to rest into his warm embrace, your arms wrapped around his waist as you hurried you face into his chest as he pats your head. You smiled feeling warm and cozy in his arms, because of Dabi’s quirk his whole body was warm and you really liked it,”As much as I like you hugging me, wanna get out if here and just walk around the city?”, he asks you. You looked up to look at him,”Sure! I plan on checking the area out anyways before the sun come down and I have to retreat back to my bed”, you moved away from him gesturing Dabi to follow you to the front of the shop, he follows right behind you to the front door. You switch off the light in the shop and closed the door and locked it, putting the keys away you looked at Dabi who had his hoodie up and zipped up to his mouth. You smiled and jogged to his side and matching his pace,”So where do you want to go? I’m pretty new to this area and I heard from Shigraki that you guys live around this area, I’m hearing a sleepover”, You happily jumped and nudge your elbow on Dabi’s arm. Dabi gives you a side eyes look and rolls his eyes playfully,”I don't mind but my job lovesss love calling me whenever I'm relaxing and its my day ooff”, Dabi held his hands up to his chest and lets out a “enthusiastic”  ‘yay’ that made you laugh. That being said you didn’t know what Dabi’s job is either, you didn’t know Toga’s, Bubugiwara’s, Miss Magne’s, She Astuhiro-- you knew none of what their job was but you do know what Shigaraki’s job and thats basically it. You’ve asked them a lot of times but all you got was--

“My job? How silly n/n-chan, a woman never tells her secrets”, Toga replies grinning looking at you,’ehehehe.. a stripper maybe?’, you brushed off the thought and just nodded

“Eh? My job? Hmm I dint think you should know Yeah! A precious gem like you shouldn’t know! Dont want you to be tainted cause Shigaraki might have our head! Soowwyy precious diamond!”,Bubugiwara and his other half says,’He cant tell me.. and Shigaraki might have his head? what does he mean by that?’, you just gave a short nod and sipped on your f/d drink.

“Hm, my job you say. Sorry sweetheart but I cant tell you that, as much as I want to, Dia. My job is quite complicated I dont want you to get into my mess”, Miss Magne says as she pats your head and hands you a creampuff,”Wanna try my latest flavour though? I heard you love strawberries!”, she smiles. You returned the smile and took a bite from the creampuff and tasting the strawberry flavour,’So Magne won't tell me as well, what does she mean by ‘I dont want you to get into my mess’??’, you smiled back at her,”I love it!! Please teach me how to make this creampuffs!”, Miss Magne is the one that teaches you how to cook desserts and give you new ideas

“I’m not telling Y/n, even if you bother me everyday..”, Genten says sipping on his hot chocolate, you pouted and crossed your arms looking at him with a dejected expression,”Not even a hint?”, you pressed on waiting for his answer. You looks at you with his silver eyes,”...No”, you slumped down the couch he sat on till your legs hit the floor,”Ughhh... none of you guys tell me what your job iisss, is your job that scary that might scare me?”, you asked again looking at Geten again. You both starred at each other for a whole minute, Genten was the first to look away,”No comment..”, you let out another grumble crossing your arms 

“My sweet Diamond, i’am afraid I can not tell you what my job it”, you let out a loud groan,”You too Atsu-kun? What does a girl like me have to do to know what your jobs are...”, you pouted slumping your arms on top of the table. He laughs as he cooks a sip from his tea,”Shigaraki has told me you’ve asked the whole group, its a good thing he told us all”, you looked up to his face lazily and   twitched your eyes clearly annoyed,”All I know is Shigaraki’s job..”, you looked to your side hiding your annoyed expression. Atsuhiro flinched at this but you didnt saw this,”.. which is selling houses”, he breaths out not knowing he held his breath. You looked back at him with an eyebrow raised,”This tea is absolutely Devine!”, you looked at him straight face. “.. ... you always order the same tea Atsu--”  “Devine!!”

“Heyyy Dabi! I was wondering if--”, before you could finish your sentence, Dabi presses his forehead against yours,”Not telling, Doll”, he sings the word doll. You pulled yourself backwards, your face flushing red. “I haven’t even finished yet!!”, You shake on his shoulders, he shrugs and just pats your head,”You want an answer?”, you shook your head up and down trying to not to look too excited. He grabs your shoulder and moves his face close to your ear,”I strip my clothes for money--”, Your whole body froze. Face getting red each second, he pulls back to look at you, he pulls back laughs at your expression,”O-oh.. okay then..”, Dabi hunches his body forwards holding his stomach, slapping his thigh,”I’m joking Doll, also not telling”, you hit his head with an angry expression.

Those were all the responses they gave you were all the same, they would not answer you nor give you a hint but rather something that gave it away. With those evidences you could try to piece things together to find your answer, you were suddenly pulled out of thoughts when you felt Dabi tapped your shoulder. You looked up to face him,”We’re almost near a cafe, it looks packed too but I heard the sold really good crepes too, in all kinds of flavours as well”, he says pulling you to the cafe takin the open seat outside the cafe. You both sat down and wait for a waiter to give you a menu, as quickly as you both sat a waiter comes up and gives you a menu,”Hello there and well some to Sweet Parade, My names Mary and I'll be your waitress for this afternoon. I shall comeback shortly to take your order”, She places both menu’s down in front of you both, bowed and walked away. You picked up the menu and scanned each dish, moving on to the next page, then the next page, next, next-- you got to the end of the menu and placed it down then closed it. You looked back at Dabi who was struggling to even pick what he wanted to order,”You still looking?”, you asked him, he grumbles out flipping to the next page. “The letters are so small, there's too many things in the menu, can’t choose anything..”, he says as he flips to the next page. You opened your menu again and asked him,”What are you craving right now?”, you asked him. Dabi closes the menu and looks at you with a smirk,”I’m pretty sure you know what I want, we’ve been friends for so long. Right now I guess I’m craving something hot and cheesy and something fizzy to wash all that grease down--”, as soon as he says that, your eyes shined a faint red. You scanned each page reading each letter, trying to match Dabi’s preference, not staying more than 10 seconds on each page you flipped to the next page.

You then closed the menu again and told him the food that might match his preference,”They pizza in different flavours on page 5 and a couple of fizzy drinks in the last page--”, you looked at him, you original e/c eyes shined. Dabi smirks at this and rests chin on his hand,”What kind of flavours and what fizzy drinks?”, you narrowed your eyes at this and sighed. You opened your mouth sand told him all the flavour the cafe had in detail and the drinks as well, Dabi’s eyes weren't on you but rather behind the servers who looked at you with eyes wide as plates when they heard you recite the dishes when you just glanced at each page for a brief moment,”--and lastly they have sprite, coke and Diet Coke. Now are we ready to order? I’m kinda hungry”, you huffed and crossed your arms. Dabi gestures the waitress to get their orders. She quickly walks to your table taking your order,”Hello there again, are we ready to place your orders?”, Dabi waves his hands fro you to go first,”Thank you, I’ll have the strawberry crepe and strawberry milkshake please”, you told her, she juts down your order then looks at Dabi,”I’ll have your pepperoni pizza and a coke-- not diet”, you giggled at this and playfully rolled your eyes. The waitress hums and writes down her paper,”Okay, your orders will be up in 30 minutes or less”, she bows done and left with your orders. Dabi leans back and groans,”30 minutes? I’am not leaving a tip..”, you laughed and looked at the people walking around the cafe, its was 4 pm and at this time people were leaving their work to either go home or just hangout around with friends or family. “By the way.. you free tonight doll?”, you turned your head to Dabi. “Well now that the shops done I guess I'm free but I wont be opening my doors till next week cause I’ll have to wake up early for that”, you say tilting your head to the side

“Why the sudden question?”, you asked him. Dabi makes eye contact with you for a second looks at the large glass window of the cafe,”Theres a party-- a real fancy party thats going to be held in a large indoor venue and I want you to go with me. Its totally fine if you dont want to though..”, his voice got quiet till the end but you could still hear him. He looks at your expression to see if you would agree and soon enough he saw your eyes had stars, he must be seeing things,”A fancy party?! I've never been to those kinds of things-- wait is this part of your job? Is it? Is it?!”, you stood up from your seat both hands on the table and leaned forward to Dabi. Dabi clears his throat and tells you to sit down, you sat down pushing your chair forwards waiting for his reply,”Some parts of it IS my job, so you wanna go or what--”, you slammed your hands on the table,”YES!! I wanna go, I wanna go, I wanna go--”, you chanted looking at him with eyes shining. Dabi holds his hand up, you stopped and looked at him,”Okay then, You better eat fast then cause the party’s is at 7pm and the venue is pretty far”, you nod at this nearly jumping out of your seat again. You begun thinking what should you even wear at the party-- wait you have to ask him that,”Wait- how exactly were you invited to this party? Also what should I wear?”, you asked him. “First, Shigaraki was suppose to tell you this but he has shit to get done for his Family business--”

‘There's that word again-- wait Shigaraki?? Did his employer invited him to their party??’,You raised an eyebrow looking at Dabi,”Shigaraki? who's holding the party Dabi?”, you asked, Dabi rolls his eyes at this,”Its Shigaraki doll, he’s.. job gets him to places I guess..”,he says he shift his eyes to your side. “Also our orders are here now”, you looked behind you and saw a serve with your orders. “Here you go Maam, Sir. Please enjoy your order”, you thanked the server and looked at your strawberry crepe and strawberry milkshake. You looked towards Dabi’s order that almost took the whole table,”You.. going to finish that--”

“Every last bite of it”

---

You sat in front of the vanity doing your make up, Dabi went back to his apartment to get suited up for the occasion and said he’ll pick you up around 6pm. You were doing a simple make up since Dabi told you not to glam up too much,”Okay.. then some red lipstick blended outwards for a gradient effect”, you blended it out with a lip brush. Curled your lashes and put mascara on, a light blush on your cheeks, you smiled as you looked at your work through the mirror. You were wearing a the Diamond necklace and the earrings from what you've wore earlier, you wore a short dress that huge your body tight was covered in gems with a plunging v-neck and spaghetti straps tied at your neck. You didnt know what do to with your hair and since the dress was open at the back you might want to stick close to Dabi,”Well aren't you looking dolled up, you look hella sexy doll”, you wipped your face to look behind you, you sighed as it was just Dabi,”Seriously Dabi? Again? I didnt here the door open--”, you blushed as you looked at him, he wore a dark blue dress pants, black vest, white buttoned up sleeves and a red neck tie,“You look... amazing”,you looked away rubbing your arms. Dabi throws his coat on the bed and grabs your arm,”I’ll do your hair, you have a curler with you?”, he lets you sit in front of your vanity again. You pointed at the third drawer, he reaches for the third drawer and pulled out the curler and plug it in, as it was heating up he grabs the brush and brushes the tangles, he bunches up the hair for a high ponytail like what your had earlier. He tightens the hair tie and grabs the curler and curls the ends softly once he was done he grabs some of the hair behind the ponytail and used it to cover the hair tie and pins it down. 

He uses a bit of hairspray to keep the baby hairs down, he takes a step back and admires his work,”Perfect.. you have your shoes on?”, he asks you. You stood up and walked to your closet,”Yup! Its right at the bottom of the closet--”,  Dabi stops you and tells you to sit down,”Actually I have something to match that outfit, finally”, he brings out a black shoebox. You eyes widen as he opens it, its a 4 inch heel covered in gems that probably cost three times more than the money you received from your distant relatives,”I-is this a part two to the dress I’m wearing right now?”, the dress you were wearing was a gift from Dabi for your birthday last year. Dabi grins as he holds up on pair,”Yup now show me those pretty feet of yours”, you rolled your eyes. Dabi-- or rather all of them treated you like a princess or like a diamond they would say and call you that sometimes. He places the first pair on you and then the second, he places your feet down,”They are the right size right?”, he asked as he holds out a hand to which you grabbed and pulls you to stand up. You almost stumbled backwards if it wasn't for Dabi grabbing your waist to steady yourself,”T-thank you and yes they are the right size, we should probably get going right?”, you told him. Dabi--still has his arm around you reaches for his coat,”Yep and I can tell we both are going to be late, Shigaraki might not like this”, you both walked out of your apartment. As you walked out of the back door and though the alleyway to the front your flinched at what you saw, a sleek jet black sports car. You turned your head to Dabi in surprise,”We-- thats-- umm.. are we??”, he quickly pulls you towards the car,”No time doll, good thing I brought this instead, we need a miracle to get there in a few minutes, now get in”, he opens the door and you entered inside the warm seat. The drivers door opens and Dabi steps in and closes the door,”You ready Y/n?”, you nod as you fastened your seatbelt,”You better hold on tight cause I’am not slowing down.”, he turns on his car with his is keys, change his gear and steps on the pedal.

[smol-and-trashy]

Botched Rescue (BnHA vore fic) 5/5

A/N: Honestly, I only posted this because I hate leaving fics unfinished, so now I can finally say, I finished a fic! I’ll probably work on the prey!Dimi fic in the next couple of weeks, so be on the look-out for that! (and then I gotta finish my remaining WIPs... this is why i don’t do multi-chapter stuff, I lose interest way too fast ~sobs~) tw for vomit. 

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

Shit shit shit. Hawks' brain immediately went to worst-case scenario. He shoved his fingers back in his throat, gagging and dry heaving, but this time nothing came out. Brown flecked eyes shot open; this couldn't be happening. Okay, calm down, gotta go to plan B: find an emetic. He straightened up and ran to the bathroom. Rummaging through his cabinets, sharp eyes scanning various medications and bottles until he finally laid eyes on what he was looking for, bingo! 

He unscrewed the cap and didn't even bother to correctly measure the medication as he gulped down the syrup until his stomach began to toss and turn. Grabbing hold of the bowl once again, his stomach twisted, and almost automatically, he thew up. Hawks scanned the vomit-covered bowl for any signs of anything living and finally made contact with three multi-color heads of hair. Letting out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, he fishes them out of the bowl, one-by-one. They're limp and barely unconscious, but he can feel their breaths to know that they're alive. Coughing, the green-haired boy, Midoriya, Hawks reminds himself, stumbles a bit before gazing up at the blond and freezes. Never had he seen someone's life deflate from their body so quickly, and if he weren't the one causing the distress, he'd find it a touch amusing. The kids were staring wide-eyed at him as if he were some kind of monster; he didn't care. Right now, relief swept over him, they were alive, and that was the only thing that mattered right now. "Let's get you guys cleaned up." he murmurs, throat raw and scratchy as he gets up to run a clean bowl under water. The students in his free hand stay dead-still; even the loud one wasn't making a single move. Had he scarred them this much? If he was honest with himself, this wasn't the most preferable of outcomes, but he could work with it. He had to. He brings the water-filled bowl back into the bathroom and brings the kids to the lukewarm water. The water was relatively shallow, and he trusted them enough to bathe themselves without drowning. The boys stayed limp in the bowl for a solid minute, shell-shocked over what they just went through, before slowly scrubbing the gunk off their clothes and hair. They looked so stiff, only going through the motions of what was necessary before finally stopping once they deemed themselves 'clean.' Hawks felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he watched, knowing that he'd fucked up. Even though all of this was for the greater good, he had just traumatized three teenagers for the betterment of hero society. Was all of this really worth it? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Izuku stared way up at the giant, fear overwhelming him. Why would Hawks let them out? To toy with them further? His heart thumped heavily in his chest while the winged man loomed over them. To put it simply, the hero looked terrible. Strands of blond hair clung to Hawks' sweaty forehead while he had heavy bags under his triangular ducts. A hand hovered over them before trunk-sized fingers seemed to pause before wrapping themselves around Bakugou; the fiery teen squirmed in Hawks' grasp, yelling obscurities at the man holding him while being moved away from the bowl. Hawks slumped down on the wall, pushing his hair back, and gazed up at the blank ceiling. "Haah, thank god you guys are alive. Thought I miscalculated or something!" he tiredly laughed. "Put me down! You reek!" Bakugou wriggled in the man's grasp, biting and kicking at the fingers enclosed on him. The winged pro hero looked down, yet Bakugou remained undaunted by those sharp eyes, he had no idea what the hero was thinking, but if he was planning on eating them again, he's got another thing coming. Instead of raising him back into the damp maw, nimble fingers worked at the quirk suppressor bracelet on his leg, prying it open with just his thumb and index finger, until a small pop was heard, and they snapped off. "There ya go!" Bakugou stared at the man, for the first time since this ordeal, he was entirely dumbstruck. The birdbrain actually helped him? He couldn't believe it. Before he knew it, he was carefully dropped down into the bowl, and Hawks did the same to Deku and Icy-Hot, their bracelets snapping off with relative ease. Bakugou silently watched from afar, confident that the same thought was nesting in the other students' heads: What the hell? xxxxxxxxxxx There wasn't much discourse between Hawks and the students. Guilt gnawed in his gut; he knew that he did the right thing, but was that really enough? Going by the Midoriya's instinctive shudders with each inflicting touch, he had his answer. No, this is what I trained to do, what I'm supposed to do. Keep civilians and provisional heroes safe, I did my job, completed the mission—yet why do I feel so… hollow? Hawks swallowed down these feelings and moved on, scooping the students and softly pocketing them in the largest bag he could find. He had to focus on getting them back to regular size; that was his primary goal, that had been his goal from the first time he saw them in the Liberation Front's base. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he left his apartment and took off to the Commission's headquarters, taking in warm breeze rafting through messy blond tufts, trying to fly as smoothly as possible, careful not to jostle the U.A. students too much inside the bag. He made a landing in front of the main building, and after punching in his security card, he barged into the President of Public Safety Commission's office, "Got the students. Do you have the re-sizing villain?" The President narrowed her eyes, "Next time knock, Hawks," she said cooly, before sighing, "Of course, he's in the detainment room. Come with me." Hawks whistled, "Yes, ma'am!" and held the bag a bit closer; he wasn't sure what kind of man the self-proclaimed 'Size Maestro' was, but going by his villain name, his expectations were already low. He was promptly lead into an elevator and then down a long hallway, finally stopping at a room with a brick-headed man staring dully at his cuffs. There he was. The Commission President shoots Hawks a pointed look that easily told him, you're just here to interrogate him and get the kids back to normal, you got that? Hawks shot her an easygoing grin back and turned his attention back to the man; this was going to be a cinch. He opened the door and swiftly brought the students out of the satchel. The slight widening of the man's eyes in alarm was all he needed to know, but still, he persevered with the questioning. "Do you recognize these kids?" he asked, pulling up a chair, so he can be at eye-level with the man. "'Course not. Never seen them kids before in my life." Hawks quirked a brow, "Really? Well, let me just run a lil confirmation with them," he looked down at the students. "Was this the guy who shrunk you?" As expected, Midoriya and Shoto both nodded while he had to shield Bakugou with a free hand so that he wouldn't end up lunging his tiny body at the man. "Seems they recognize you, so how about we try this again," his eyes pierced into the man, pupils narrowing into slits, "do you recognize these kids?" After what felt like minutes of sitting in pure silence, the man swallowed, and finally broke. "Fine! I was the one who shrunk the brats! But only under the orders of the Liberation, they tells me that I had to, that it brought us a step closer to the Liberation of quirks," his eyes widened at this slip, and he quickly put a hand over his mouth before squinting at Hawks. "Wait, aren't ya…" Seeing the gears turn in the other man's head, the hero wasted no time; with a key in one hand, he unlocked the villain's handcuffs before pressing a sharp feather under the man's chin. "Turn them back, and then you and I will talk." Nodding, the Size Maestro prodded the students, and one-by-one, they quickly grew back to their original sizes. He looked up at Hawks, expectingly, "So you are a dirty spy that thinks he can—-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence before Hawks knocked him out with a feather blade and locked his cuffs back on. "There we go," he states, satisfied as he turns his attention back to the heroes-in-training, they were unconscious in the interrogation room, exhausted from the re-growth process, but with the aid of a few Commission employees, he brought them back into the Commission President's office. "So, what do you wanna tell their teacher and Endeavor?" The President's lips straightened in a pale line, "Must they know the truth, Hawks?" The hero shrugged, "Could just say they got captured by the League?" Her grim expression softened, pleased with his response, "Good. It would put hero society in turmoil if they were to find out about your mission and more about the Liberation Front than what has already been disclosed. For now, this ordeal will be between us." He smirked, about to retort back, but a buzzing on his headset shifted his attention, pausing for a second, he listened. Armed robbery in Kurume, some kind of electrical quirk. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, not really wanting to leave the kids until they were fully conscious so he could have more time to explain himself properly, but from the frantic squawks of his sidekick, it seemed urgent. His expression shifted, and he turned his attention back to the President. "Duty calls, tell the kids I'm really sorry about everything." She nodded, and giving one last look a the students, he closed the door. His expression darkening slightly as he left the building, he was going to have to cook up an alibi on his way back to Fukuoka for the Liberation Front. xxxxxxxx Deku shifted in his sleep, finding himself in an awful nightmare of being captured by the League and ending up getting eaten and digested by Hawks. His eyes fly open, and he finds himself in a too-bright room, with Bakugou and Todoroki still passed out. Memories flood his head, that awful dream was his reality, yet--why was he alive? He vaguely remembered Hawks releasing them, his words remained fuzzy in the green haired teen’s mind as he tried shifting through recent memories. Sighing, Deku shifts his head to the side, finally noticing the Head of Safety Commission standing over him with her hands behind her back, but that wasn't what surprised him the most, no, it was that he was back to normal again. He… he really did save us. "H-Hawks!" he turns to thank the winged pro, but he was nowhere to be found. Deku sighed; the man really was too fast for his own good.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Angel

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Johnny Seo (NCT)

Warnings: Language, some mentions of smut

Genre: Married AU; Family AU

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Y/N has a good life. She’s married to her high school sweetheart and she has two amazing kids. However, even she has days where this whole quarantine thing really starts to take its toll. 

A/N: Johnny said he’d be married with kids by now, so I made it happen fictitiously.

Angel

It was morning again, and I reluctantly opened my eyes to the familiar chime of my alarm. I released a groan, reaching over to silence my cellphone while ignoring the familiar sounds of footsteps in the hallways.

“Mommy!” My daughter’s screeching voice managed to somehow defy the barrier of my bedroom door, finding me through the drowsy haze that desperately wanted more sleep.

“Five more minutes,” I slurred, but my wish was never granted. Instead, I had my hopes dashed when my daughter and son abruptly slammed the bedroom door against its hinges, screaming at the top of their lungs as they threw themselves on top of me. The bedframe creaked from the additional weight, and my eyes shot open when my son crawled over my stomach, pressing down uncomfortably against my poor bladder. “Okay!” I grimaced, attempting to sit up straight. “I think we’ve had enough time to torture Mommy.”

My daughter was a mess of giggles, looking up at me with brown eyes that distinctly reminded me of Johnny. “Guess what?” she whispered as if protecting a secret of immense value.

“What?” I whispered in return.

“I made you a picture!” she squealed, reaching for my hand and using gravity to her advantage when she rolled off the mattress and landed in the floor. I winced at the pressure on my shoulder, complying with her demands by throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m coming.” I groaned, watching as she and her younger brother immediately took off in the direction of the living room.

It had become a tedious cycle at this point, waking up early in the morning to cook breakfast, only to spend most of the day figuring out creative ways to keep my children entertained. I sighed in exasperation, secretly cursing Johnny because he still had to work everyday at the office in spite of this enormously burdensome pandemic that forced the schools to close. Since I was an Elementary school teacher, I was also forced to stay at home everyday, which initially seemed advantageous because I wouldn’t need to inquire about a babysitter for our kids. However, the longer I spent locked inside the house all day, the more I was slowly starting to lose my mind and all sense of rationality.

My children were both young and energetic, demanding constant attention. 

They were also notorious mischief makers.

Thus, I paused at the entrance to the living room, ignoring my son and daughter as they clapped along with the characters on their TV show. Because there was nothing to celebrate in regards to the mess that was waiting for me in the form of the dreaded Crayola Massacre. Lines of blue, black, and yellow decorating my walls in long stripes. “Do you like it, Mommy?” my daughter asked, and I closed my eyes in response, exhaling around a sigh instead of the scream that fought for release.

Despite scrubbing at the walls for over three hours, there was still evidence of my daughter’s artwork in faded colors that had successfully smeared themselves together in decidedly very unattractive ways. However, the arrival of my husband signaled a reprieve from my work, and I was lucky enough to intercept Johnny’s entrance without our children noticing. He smiled at me like a knight in shining armor, shrugging off his jacket and grunting when I ran into his arms.

“Y/N, what are you-” I cut him off with a kiss, pressing my lips fiercely against his in the hopes of using Johnny to drown out the rest of this disastrous day. I was a needy mess for my husband, and I wordlessly led him into our bedroom while keeping our mouths seared together.

“Holy shit, I missed you,” I whined, and Johnny kissed me feverishly while I wrapped my arms around his neck in desperation, grinding myself against his thigh in the hopes of chasing an orgasm that I had been denied for weeks while remaining at home.

“Daddy!”

“No,” I whimpered pathetically when I felt Johnny start to pull away, clutching tightly to his shirt sleeves while he chuckled and gently reached behind him for the door.

“We’ll talk later,” he said with a wink, turning around to greet his son who jumped gleefully into his father’s arms.

Meanwhile, I was left feeling increasingly desperate, studying my husband’s ass with a groan. Why did he have to look so ridiculously good in the suits that he was required to wear to the office? It was a tragedy for my condition because I wanted nothing more than to drag Johnny onto our bed while I spread my legs wide open for him.

But the moment was tragically gone. My children had my husband’s attention, so I trudged despondently into the kitchen to prepare another half-assed attempt at a meal.

After dinner, I decided to clean up in the kitchen, hearing my husband attempt to handle our demanding children in the living room. They were playing some kind of made-up game that Johnny had likely encouraged, claiming that it was good for them to use their imaginations. Whatever it was, I could tell that it had taken quite the number on my husband when he entered the kitchen while panting, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Are you having fun?” I asked with a smirk.

Johnny glared playfully in my direction. “What are you talking about? I love it when they wrestle me to the floor.”

“They can be a handful,” I said with a shaky sigh, closing my eyes for a moment as I finished the dishes.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Johnny asked, leaning against my side as he wrapped one arm around my waist.

I decided not to hold anything back since the possibility of losing my last hold on rational sanity was dying each day. “I can’t fucking take it anymore,” I said, groaning as I pressed myself even closer to his chest. “I love them so much, but I need time to myself, and I can’t even cook lunch without someone glued to my legs!”

Johnny chuckled, but he held me close as he planted a kiss on top of my head. “Y/N, you shouldn’t let yourself get this bad.”

“I’m their mother,” I said. “I should be able to handle anything.”

“Everyone needs some time away,” Johnny said, soothing his hand across my back in a much-needed gesture of comfort. “Hey, why don’t we go out tomorrow?”

I sniffled, looking up at him through blurry eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we can call Mark or something to come watch the kids while we go out for a drive. Grab takeout and park the car on the river.”

I snorted around a laugh. “Mark is basically a kid himself.”

“He can handle them for a few hours,” Johnny said, pulling away to press a gentle kiss to my lips. “What do you say?”

I managed a nod before allowing Johnny to engulf me in his strong embrace, blocking out the rest of the world for several long, glorious minutes.

Mark Lee was, in a sense, mostly reliable when it came to babysitting. The main problem was that he still possessed a childlike mentality himself, and I would worry constantly about my kids while they were left to his care. But Mark was the only one available at this hour, and he promised me a thousand times that he would actually obey the list I gave him. Including a detailed outline of all the foods that my kids couldn’t have after 8:00 PM.

“You two have fun,” Mark said with a knowing wink, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“We’ll be back before 10:00,” I said, grabbing Johnny’s hand as the two of us left Mark standing on the front porch, walking to Johnny’s car in relative silence.

However, as soon as I was situated in the front seat, I turned to look at Johnny as he messed with the ignition. “Well?” I asked him. “What do you want to do?”

Johnny laughed, easing the car onto the road as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Remember what we used to do in college?”

“You mean, drive somewhere isolated with our cheap takeout?”

Johnny nodded. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in a long time,” I said, instantly onboard with such a seemingly innocuous suggestion, but it was the most thrilling plan I had been apart of in months.  

It made me miss our college days, when our only responsibilities included turning in essays ten minutes before their due date while trying to balance the tricky combination of a social life and attaining a useful education. Johnny and I met during his Senior year of college at a frat party, and it seemed like our future together was solidified when he took me out on his drunken version of a first date in the parking lot behind Burger King. Regardless of how ridiculous it seemed in the present, I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything else in the entire world.

“I feel you thinking hard, babe,” Johnny remarked as we pulled into the parking lot of our favorite diner. 

“It’s nothing,” I reassured him, watching as Johnny dialed the diner’s phone number to place a takeout order, and we talked for twenty minutes about how much of an asshole Johnny’s boss acted during quarantine.

It was raining when our order was finally ready, and I laughed when Johnny ran out of the car, holding one of our backseat towels over his head. It was a hilarious sight, and my smile was almost painfully wide when he returned with our bag, dripping from head to toe. “I hope the food isn’t ruined,” Johnny said, giving no further thought to his disheveled state.

Nevertheless, Johnny drove us to the abandoned parking lot at the beach downtown, overlooking the ocean at night as it reflected the full moon in all its glory. Meanwhile, I bit down into my hamburger, relishing the delicious taste, and moving my head in time to the music playing over the radio. “I heard someone tried to repaint the wall yesterday,” Johnny remarked.

“Oh, right,” I scoffed. “I was cleaning for hours.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Johnny said, handing me one of his french fries over the center console as an act of appeasement. “I feel bad. I should’ve known that the kids would drive you crazy.”

“I love them,” I pouted. “But they have too much energy.”

“Why don’t we all take a drive this weekend?” Johnny suggested. “I know we can’t do much, but the fresh air might be nice.”

I nodded eagerly while tossing the rest of my trash into our takeout bag. “The kids will love it.”

Johnny nodded, reaching for my hand which he held with a gentle touch. “You deserve something better than takeout in the car.”

I shook my head, leaning in closer to brush a kiss across his lips. “This is nice, Johnny. I can’t be that picky when the entire country is going to shit.”

“Really?” Johnny asked, reaching out to hold my head in place as he deepened the kiss. “Isn’t there something else that you want?”

My eyes widened at his implications, especially considering the frantic way he was kissing me as his hands smoothed across my thighs. “Are you serious?”

“What? You don’t think I can still do this?” Johnny asked breathlessly, kissing me with growing desperation.

“Are you seriously suggesting that we fuck in your car?”

“Why not?” he asked, pulling back with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes.

“Well, if you say it like that...” I trailed off, laughing when Johnny reached for me across the console, dragging me onto his lap with a series of clumsy movements.

“This isn’t romantic lovemaking,” Johnny said, ripping down the sleeves of my dress. “But I think we both need a quick fuck.”

I gasped at his crude language. “You haven’t talked to me like that in months!”

Johnny chuckled. “There’s been a few distractions.”

“But I really missed this,” I said, licking into his mouth while my hands grabbed fistfuls of his dark brown hair.

“I promise that I’ll make more time for us,” Johnny said, thumbing across the inviting swell of my breasts. “I love you so much.”

“Mhmm,” I hummed in agreement, reaching down for the zipper on his pants. “Will you show me how much you love me?”

Johnny smirked against my lips, reaching down to recline the seat further back, and his hands gathered the hem of my dress as he proceeded to make-up for weeks of neglected opportunities...

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 8)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2606

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week now since you arrived at the Xavier residence. 

You were successful in getting him to back off the alcohol until 5 pm. You had gotten him to eat a real meal at least once a day, which meant emerging from his room for some social interaction. Unintentionally, you two had spent quite a bit of time together. You were walking near the pond, reading when he appeared beside you. He began to ask you what you thought of the book and you two got into a long discussion over books you loved and hated. The next time was while you were cleaning the kitchen after breakfast and he was watching you. You didn’t know it at first until he spoke and you jumped slightly. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you noted, wringing out the sponge in the sink before going back to work. 

“No, I should apologize, I was the one staring. I just… I’m not used to anyone being in here, well not like this. Growing up I had a chef and a full kitchen staff. My mother never stepped foot in a kitchen in her life.”

“Ah, so I’m a strange sight then, hmm?” you asked as you worked away. 

“Just a little bit. But I like it… It’s refreshing.” 

“Really? Typically men want a woman just like their mother.”

“My mother was an exceptional woman, she had very few faults, but I think it’s essential for everyone to know how to cook, and cook well.” 

“Oh,” you noted, huffing out some air as you finished scrubbing and wiping the counter. “So, do I? Cook well, that is. You’ve had my food now for a few days. What do you think?”

“Well some of the flavors and dishes are new to my taste, but I have yet to eat anything I outright don’t like.” 

“Progress then,” you said with a grin. 

“Yes, it would seem so.” 

The next time was when you were working on something your colleague had sent in. It was on a patient of yours and they had questions about it. You asked if you could use his study privately to talk to her and do some work. He granted you the room but he lingered in the doorway. He must’ve thought you couldn’t tell because your back was turned, but you knew he was there. After your brief two hour work session, you emerged and he approached you. 

“You sound as if you really care for your patients,” he commented. 

“I do. They’re my patients. They look to me to feel better, to ease their symptoms, to make their life easier. Why wouldn’t I care for them? You cared for your students, yes?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Then I imagine it’s the same thirst to make sure they’re properly cared for.” 

“I suppose it is, yes. Sorry for eavesdropping I just--” 

You put your hand on his arm and smiled. “It’s fine, Charles. I understand.” 

He smiled and nodded. 

Of course you understood. He missed a year of you, you missed a year of him. You two were desperate to know every little thing about each other. Whether or not he was at fault for losing that year, he still wanted to know you, know about you, know how you ticked, and what made you tick. 

He still misused his serum, but thankfully, Hank had finally gotten the first batch ready to try on him. 

“Are you sure it’s ready?” 

“I’m pretty sure this is it. It might need some minor tweaking, but this should do it.” He handed you a fresh needle and serum. 

You nodded, huffing out. 

“You ready?” Hank asked. He knew this would be the biggest feat yet. Getting Charles to eat wasn’t hard, everyone had to eat. Getting him up at a reasonable hour, no problem. Even limiting his alcohol was relatively easy. 

But asking him to accept the voices which he desperately seemed to want to forget -- this would be your biggest mission. 

“I guess as I’ll ever be.” 

You took the needle and serum and found him in his study. 

“Hey, Charles, time for your meds,” you announced, trying to hide your nervousness. 

“Ah, thank you, it was starting to wear off,” he noted with a grin. He took the serum and needle from you and began to load the needle. 

Part of you honestly wanted him to take the serum and see how he reacted, but every ethical part of you was saying that was wrong. 

“Uh, before you take it, you need to know it’s a new kind.” 

He was just finishing loading the needle and pulling his sleeve up when he stopped to look at you. “I’m sorry, new? What do you mean?” 

“It’s…” you began wringing your hands, “it’s supposed to make you walk, and use your powers.” 

He immediately put the bottle and syringe down on his desk and faced you, his expression one of confusion and anger. 

“And why is this new?” 

“Because I asked Hank to make it.” 

“Why in the bloody hell would you do that?” he demanded, whipping around and pacing behind his desk. “The other serum was fine, it was perfect. It got rid of the pain--”

“And made you forget what living is like,” you countered. 

“How would you know what my life was like?” he argued, clearly angry. 

“Because like it or not, I know you. We talked for ten years, and you can bullshit me all you want that you showed me what I wanted to be seen. All I know is you went from being educated, compassionate, funny, sweet, eloquent, to an asshole who sits around all day doing nothing. I know that the man I loved was amazing and I envied him for all his hard work and dedication. You inspired me. When med school got too hard, I turned to you. Sometimes you sent me words of encouragement, other times I told myself ‘If he can do it, so can I’. I know it hurts. I know you lost friends and practically your sister. I know you’ve had a lot of shitty luck in your life, you told me so. I’m not denying that you should be angry, or hurt, or feel grief. I’m saying it shouldn’t stop you from living your life, from feeling the pain.” 

“What the fuck would you know about pain? Do you have any idea what it’s like living with this power?” 

“No. So why don’t you tell me?” you demanded, getting closer to him, less than arms length apart. 

“It’s excruciating. It’s like a thousand screaming, helpless voices in your head. Would you want that? Would anybody want that?” 

“No, but you dealt with it before, so why does it bother you now?” 

“Because it’s hard, alright?” 

“No, Charles, you handled these powers for nearly twenty years, so why now? What is so hard about controlling them now?” 

“Because I can’t handle them,” he stressed, his hands gesturing desperately towards you. “Don’t you get it? I can’t. I don’t have the ability to quiet them any more. It’s just so loud, there’s so much pain--”

You closed the gap between you two as you put your hands on the side of his face. 

“You did it once, you calmed it once, you can do it again. I’ll help you. You won’t be alone this time. Hank and I will both help you. I know it’ll be hard. I know it’s scary. I know the easy road is to just shut them out and not face the pain, to wall yourself inside this fortress and shut everything else out. But I’m giving you the option to stop the physical pain and accept who you really are. Your powers are a part of you. You shouldn’t shut them out. If you shut them out, you’ll be living a lie. You won’t be allowing yourself to be who you were born to be.” 

“I...I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, I know you can. You’ve got two Ph.Ds. You committed yourself to a phantom for ten years. You are not a quitter. I’ll be with you every step of the way…” You pursed your lips in thought. There had to be a compromise here. He didn’t want to return to normal, but you needed him to at least try. So you proposed something. “And, if you take this dose, and you just can’t withstand what happens… we’ll go back to the other serum. Is that a deal?” 

He eyed you up and down as you let go of him, peering at him with hope and pleading in your eyes. 

“One time, and then we go back to the other one if it doesn’t work?” 

“Absolutely. I’m not here to put you in agony, Charles.” 

He nodded. “Alright, darling, I’ll try… Once.” He lifted the syringe, found the vein, and then peered at you while he injected the serum. Neither of you said a word as the medicine took effect. 

After thirty seconds, his face went from a calm serene mask to an expression of anguish. 

“It’s...so...painful,” he rasped out as his hands slowly slid to his head. 

“It’s alright. It’s okay. Just focus on me, focus on my voice,” you encouraged. He began to stumble back, gripping his head as he sat in his leather swivel chair. His eyes on yours as it looked as if he were about to cry. 

“I--I--I can’t,” he cried out. “I need the other one.” 

“Charles, please? Please,” you begged, kneeling before him, your hands on his knees. “It’s alright. You did this for years. Focus on one thing. Focus on me, my face, my voice.”

His breathing started to even out as he stared at you. 

“That’s it,” you encouraged with a grin. “My voice, just think about it. Focus on the sound.” 

“You really did miss me,” he suddenly said, his brows furrowing as he stared at you. He was talking as if he was only speaking to himself. He continued to stare at you as his hands loosened their grip around his head. “You thought I was dead. You cried yourself to sleep every week… You thought you did something wrong.”  

You frowned, realizing what he was doing. This hadn’t really occurred to you, stupidly. Of course when he got his telepathic powers back, he’d be able to read your mind, why wouldn’t he? It was a bit unsettling, but he needed this. Swallowing your pride and discomfort you let him read your mind, as if you really had any other choice. 

Eventually, his face smoothed out. 

“There you go. There you are.” 

He stared at you, his breathing finally back to normal. 

“Are you okay? Is it as overwhelming as you thought it would be?” 

He shook his head and swallowed. “No, no… I think I can… I think I can stand it.”

“You sure?” you urged. “Because if you can’t, we’ll go back to the other one if--”

“I’m fine. You’re right. I can’t pretend to be something I’m not.” 

You smiled at him. “I’m glad. We’ll help you. It’ll get easier with every day.” 

“I’m sorry I, uh--”

Shaking your head you waved him off as you stood up. “No, it’s fine. Your powers, they do that. I knew that. I just… I forgot. It took me aback, for a second, that’s all. Well, I’ll let you get to the rest of your day. Remember, no alcohol until 6 pm.” 

“I don’t want any. If I’m going to kick the bad habits, I need to do it right. I can’t lean on the alcohol for a crutch while my powers are going.” 

“That’s good,” you agreed, nodding. “I’m proud of you. I’m not sure if that means anything or not.” You gave a soft smile and left him for the day. 

You worked on cleaning, worked a little bit on patient files sent to you in your bedroom, and by nightfall, you were telling Charles and Hank goodnight. 

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

By nightfall three nights later, you were in Charles’s room, telling him goodnight as you helped him tidy up. He was done dusting his books and said he was ready to hit the hay. He climbed into bed as you waited for him to get rested. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked, referring to his third day on the new serum. 

“I’m coping… getting through it,” he assured. “It’s like muscles you haven’t flexed in a long time.”

A slow nod came to you. “I’m glad you’re working them out,” you said with a slight laugh. 

“Me too.” 

“Well, goodnight, sweet dreams,” you bid before walking to his door. You opened the door, just about to step out when suddenly he said something to stop you. 

“I missed you too, you know?” he remarked, his heart and tone full of sadness.  

You turned back to him, your hand still on the handle to the door. 

He continued, not giving you a chance to talk. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me. I’d been so successful so far, I had so much to offer you. Then suddenly, I was a man with nothing. No legs, no powers, no school, no ambition, no future. I had nothing to give you. I was so afraid that if I did tell you the truth, you’d reject me. I knew in my heart you wouldn’t, you’re not like that. It didn’t stop me from thinking the worst though. And I knew if I told you about everything else, I’d have to tell you about my mutation and I really wanted to wait until we met in person.” 

“I… don’t blame you. I can understand. I just missed you, that’s all.” You walked toward the bed, sitting down on the empty side. 

He let out a sorrowful laugh. “I missed you more than words can say. Who knows, maybe if I had talked to you I wouldn’t have fallen into this depression. In fact, I’m sure if I hadn’t ignored your texts, I would’ve been fine, relatively speaking.”

“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” 

“I know you do,” he said with love in his voice as he reached his hand out, and you took it happily. “You don’t have to be here, by any means. You’re not obligated to be here. I was just a coward when it comes down to it--”

“Charles,” you started, shaking your head, objecting. 

“No, it’s true. You’ve been nothing but open and honest with me and I didn’t return the favor. I just...abandoned you. You had no one, no one who understood what you were going through. You were all alone. I, at least, had Hank.” 

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not. You deserved better. You do deserve better, and I’m so sorry for that. I can’t make up for what I took away from you, for what I took away from us.” 

You cast your eyes down, unsure what to say. 

“But we can salvage what we have, right? We can still try to make up for lost time, right?” 

“Right,” you agreed with a smile, tears brimming your eyes. 

“Good. I’d like to at least try.”

“Me too.” 

“Thank you for being here, I truly appreciate it. I know you’re here for me, not for some destiny fulfillment. I know you care for me. I know that.”

“Good, don’t ever forget it,” you chided with a grin as you squeezed his hand. 

“Never again,” he promised before pulling your hand up to kiss the back of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[serararku]

Where the Wild Things Are Pt 3

<Theme>

The pool beneath Valhaas Barrow came from a subterranean river said to stretch all the way from the Black Shroud. The source of nearly every oasis in Thanalan, it remained the sole reason why the Miqo'te and various beast tribes could even survive in the dust-swept wastes. This water was as precious as it was sacred, reserved only for those closest resembling the divine image of Azeyma. The punishment for any Tia, slave, or outsider in this holy place was death.

The walls were painted by the many hands of women who came before. Some told tales of legendary heroes, others of harrowing tragedies; but the space along the ground was reserved for the kittens, who doodled rough paintings of flowers, or the sun, or even each other. Era wanted to place her mark in this place too one day, but she wanted to make it count- she wanted it to mean something.

“Well?” Her mother asked, catching her attention. She stood with two aunts, and all three stared at the woman expectantly. “We can’t get you clean if you’re not naked.”

Era was hesitant, but begrudgingly obeyed, starting with her boots before working her way up. When she first left her family to search for Tage, she had only a few scrapes on her hands from pulling feisty rodents from their tunnels and homes; but the more skin she revealed now, the paler her mother became. Era had her shirt halfway over her head when she was swarmed by her and her aunts.

“Were you stabbed?! Beaten?!” Yuun traced a few scars on Era’s stomach with her finger. “Gunshot wounds… did the shelled men do this?”

Era was barely able to get a word out when their hands began poking and prodding at all of her past injuries; something about this made her feel more vulnerable and ashamed now more than ever. “Y-yes, the Garleans-”

“What happened to your arm?!” Her mother grabbed her by the elbow and held her forearm close to her face. “Is this a burn?! How did this happen?!”

“Mom, please!” Era yanked her arm back and slinked away from their incessant touching. “It’s a long story… all of it is…” Telling them about how ‘Had-rel’ commanded her to stick her hand into a crackling fireplace was the last thing on her mind. Or the time she was shot during her ambush against that Garlean century. Or the time she got smacked in the side of the head and lost consciousness for a minute. Or all the times she was beaten during her many training lessons.

She aptly decided to change the subject before they continued to pelt her with questions.

“Do I have to do this? I don’t… I don’t want to mate with him, mom…”

Her mother’s face was still flushed with worry, but a reassuring smile began to creep along the corners of her lips. “Leave us.” She commanded, sending the grumbling women back upstairs to give them the space they needed. Era flinched and looked away when she casually pulled off her clothes; she knew she would have to be naked, but she wasn’t expecting her mother to do the same. Her skin was like polished porcelain, with her rich brown hair ending in small curls that almost reached to her knees once she let it all down. Even after giving birth seven times, her body remained a work of art. It was hard not to stare, harder still not to be envious; Era could only hope to have half a body like her mothers in twenty years. “We used to bathe all the time naked together, dear. Why are you so nervous now? All that time in those tribeless cities has affected you.” She reached over and gently took her daughter by the hand. “Come come, into the water while it’s still warm.”

Getting washed by her mother made her feel like a kitten all over again- a recurring theme since returning to her home. The water was warmed by dropping smoldering rocks heated by the bonfire into the depths, but the pool itself was surprisingly shallow- barely reaching over her hips while sitting down. Era definitely remembered being able to float in this exact pool when she was just a little younger. Did she really grow so fast? Or has the pool been shrinking since she departed? 

Her mother started with her hair, massaging raw honey into her scalp until it ran down her chest, shoulders, and back. “You need to grow out your hair. Keeping it short is cute... but there isn’t a Nunh alive that wouldn’t kill to gaze upon your body with hair that reaches the floor.”

“Mmmn…” Was all Era could mumble in between licking at the honey dripping too close to her mouth; the little bit of boar she ate from her mother’s helping wasn’t nearly enough.

“Era…?” Her mother started, causing her ears to perk. “You have been mating in the cities?” She did her best to conceal her startled shock, but her flattening ears and her tail thrashing about in the water beside her mother gave away the truth. Era’s mind frantically raced as she tried to conjure up a convincing lie, but her sudden silence only further proved her guilt.

“W-what are you t-talking about…?”

“I know bite marks when I see them.” She gave her daughter’s shoulder a few sharp pinches. “These ones look recent… very recent. You were supposed to save your first time for your Nunh.”

“W-well, I… I figured… w-why not practice…? F-for when I’m with my Nunh, I mean…” Era didn’t dare turn to look her mother in the eyes; the heat searing her face, neck, and now shoulders, was enough to boil this water. “That makes sense… r-right…?”

“A man has patience for a maiden.” She started, with the tone of her voice darkening. “Don’t tell Vahli about your ‘practice’, I don’t know how he will react.” Her mother paused to gather her hair in her hands to expose Era’s shoulders and back. She then plucked a lump of cactuar flesh out of the water to rub against her skin; with luck, the rejuvenating flesh would help conceal her more recent love marks. “What is his name?”

“Zevi…” For some reason she decided against revealing his tribe, not that it mattered; he cut all ties with them long ago.

“A Tia from the tribeless cities.” Yuun mused, working down one of Era’s arms. “He must be quite something for you to abandon your duties to the tribe. What is he like? Is he handsome? Strong?”

Era bit her lip for a moment in silence, but the silence did only last for a moment. “Brown skin burned by the sun. Black hair like raven feathers… and looking into his eyes is like staring up at the bright blue sky. Is he handsome…? Mom, he’s gorgeous…” She blinked a few times before clearing her throat. “And um… he’s strong enough to punch a deeproot tree out of the ground with a single punch. He was with me when I stormed that castrum to avenge Tage’s dea-...” Mentioning his name again put a dull ache in her heart; she thought she was over his death, but being here… where her journey all began… and it almost felt like she was right back in her apartment, staring at his ruined corpse all over again.

“I’m so sorry, honey…” Her mother leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her. “I know you wanted him. But he is with Azeyma now… hunting in Her endless fields of eternal sunlight.”

Era leaned into her mother’s embrace and closed her eyes. “Mom… I… I don’t want to lose Zevi. But if I defy the Nunh… I’ll lose my family…” Slowly she turned to look her mother in the eyes. “What do I do…?”

She planted a wet kiss on Era’s temple before sitting upright to continue scrubbing her daughter’s skin. “When your father became the tribe’s Nunh, he had to kill my father to do it. I was… I was so angry that this overgrown brute murdered my father and expected me to have his children in return… like I should be thanking him for taking my father away from me. I planned on killing him before it was my turn to pleasure him, you know. I almost went through with it.”

“What stopped you…?”

“My mother did. Killing him wouldn’t bring my father back… and it would only put the entire tribe in terrible danger. Any Tia could walk in and claim us as their wives without having to fight for it. No… instead of that, my mother suggested a better way. I learned Rarku’s secrets, memorized what made him tick, and discovered his deepest desires. I did my duty as his wife, and eventually had him eating out of the palm of my hand. Men are simple creatures… and easy to please. I guess what I’m saying is…”

“To do my duty and stop complaining?” Era groaned. “I don’t know if that’s something I wa-ow! Ow ow ow!” Yuun gave her daughter a warm smile as she continued to pinch and twist her ear.

“Let me finish.” She firmly spoke, eventually releasing her. “You can’t have your family and your forbidden love if you don’t have his favor. Do what us wives do best, dear… turn your will into law.” She took Era by the chin and turned her head toward her. “If you’re successful, you may even be able to convince him to let you visit the tribeless cities every few years or so.”

They remained quiet for the rest of the bath. Yuun washed the honey from Era’s hair thrice over, until her locks shimmered in the flickering torchlight. She ran a bison-hair comb through the fur on her tail until it glided effortlessly from base to tip, and lastly she scrubbed Era’s face with hardened animal fat and spearmint leaves. As soon as her mother rinsed her face, she shot up to her feet in a hurry. "What-?! Where do you think you are going without your clothes?!"

"There’s only two things I can do that shouldn’t be done with clothes on." Era called back, turning to look down at her mother. “If I want Vahli to do what I want… I need to leave an impression. Goodbye, mother, and thank you for the bath.” Without another word she spun on her heel and began marching to the exit, foregoing her clothes and leaving her mother and her dignity behind.

Walking among tribekin topless or wearing little more than war paint and boots wasn’t an uncommon sight for this sect. The concept of modesty was a little more ambiguous around here, with many kittens running around butt-naked during the summer migrations. But for a fully grown woman strutting her stuff and soaked from bathing in the blessed waters was, well, just strange enough to garner attention. 

Era held her breath and stepped beyond the curtain dividing the sacred pools from the rest of Valhaas Barrow. The searing heat returned to her face and shoulders the moment she saw familiar faces down the hall, but it was too late to turn back now; she was in deep, and if her confidence wavered now, she wouldn’t be capable of seducing Vahli, and her chance of keeping both her tribe and Zevi in her life would blow up in her face. “If I refuse Vahli, and return to Ul’dah, I would never see my mother and family again. If I fail to impress Vahli, I wouldn’t be able to be with Zevi.” Era had to focus on organizing her thoughts to distract her from the gawking stares. Most of the slaves averted their gazes when she strode into view, while many of the warrior women nodding approvingly. “I need to blow his mind to keep both my tribe and my love. Gods… I hope he’s not worrying about me…” She caught a glimpse of Denoh sitting alone in the corner with his boar scraps in his grasp, but she looked away before their eyes met. Despite the audible gasps or faint whispers, Era found herself handling this situation quite well; at the very least, nobody was trying to stop her, or call her out by her name-

“Yeah-hahah! Errraaaa!” Chaje Koss hollered and shouted when she briskly marched by, holding a half-empty skin; with three empty skins littered around her staggering feet. She was as sloppy drunk as you could get on fermented goat’s milk without also getting food poisoning. “Go get you some! Hahaha- yeeeeaaaahhhh!” Soon others joined in, giving the ‘champion of Azeyma’ a round of applause. Era wanted to wither away and die, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at her aunt’s slurred encouragement. She awkwardly waved at them before reaching the bottom of the incline, and the spiraling tunnel that led to her destination.

Era stormed into his personal chambers by nearly ripping the leather curtain from the ceiling. Vahli was hunched over the stone table with Auntie Shepka, the Lady of War, at his shoulder when they both looked up at the same time to witness her and all her splendor. She stood there in silence as she caught her breath, letting her Nunh’s gaze follow the beads of water trickle down her shapely form. Era could feel his eyes on the bullet scars dotted on her stomach, the discoloration from the old burn halfway up her forearm, and the deep scratches covering her fingers. Judging by his ears flattening against his head and his thick tail twitching under the table, he clearly liked what he saw. Yet she couldn’t tell if he was speechless or not; he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox when they first met out by the bonfire. 

Fortunately Shepka was willing to break the awkward silence. “Ahem… you should tend to this…” She reached over and rolled the leather up before tucking it under her arm. “We’ll discuss our plans later when you have more time.” Vahli still didn’t speak- he simply nodded in her direction, but his gaze never left Era. In fact they kept their staring contest going as Shepka walked past her on her way to leave, and the naked woman didn’t blink until the two were alone at last.

Vahli pushed off the table and stood up straight. His pointed ears were only a fulm and a quarter away from brushing against the ceiling. “Your scars… you’ve seen many battles…?” Era caught on to the tone of his voice almost immediately; he was distracted… surprised… nervous. She could use this. It felt like that time she seduced that Lalafell in the Gold Saucer, but she knew he wasn't lonely enough for her to come on that strong. She closed her eyes, took a few deep and steady breaths, and relaxed; the rest came naturally.

“I didn’t come all this way to talk.” Era stepped back and reached behind her to make sure the curtain was fully closed. A shy smile spread across her face once she began walking along the wall, plucking each torch up and blowing them out like candles; one by one she dimmed the room, until only a single torch resting on the table beside Vahli remained.

Era emerged from the dark, her blue eyes reflecting the only light source left in this chamber. There were no chocobo down beds, and no cotton pillows or wool blankets for them to rest on; only the loose dirt floor and the hard stone table. "I will return to you…" She reached up and grabbed her Nunh by the bone necklace, and pulled him down into her awaiting kiss.

"Whatever the price… I'll pay it!"

---

Mentions: @rzevi-tia-ffxiv​

[set-phasers-to-whump]

if you thought the head trauma was bad...

Prompt: concussion

Whumpee: Eddie Diaz

Fandom: 911

hello this is sadly not so good and i am sorry :( maybe you will like it?

He doesn’t even see the blow coming. One second, he’s punching the other man in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, a rush of adrenaline overtaking him as he thinks, I’m going to win; and the next, a fist collides with his head so hard that he actually sees stars, and tastes blood, and collapses to the ground.

He lies on the concrete, dazed, ears ringing. His head feels all kinds of strange, hurting on the back as well as the front where he’d been punched, thanks to his collapse. He hears shouting from around him and a cry of victory from his opponent, and then someone is hauling him to his feet and telling him to get outta here, you’re done for the night.

Eddie is well aware that he’s done, but can’t bring himself to pull away from the support of whoever is currently holding him up. They do it for him, though, giving him a gentle push away.

He stumbles and falls to his knees, his head spinning. He gives himself a second to get reoriented as best as he can, then very slowly pushes himself up and stands, then walks shakily to his truck. 

He sinks down into the driver’s seat and gives his head a shake, intending to clear up the ringing in his ears. All that this accomplishes, though, is making his head throb and his vision swim, so he stops, and rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment, trying to think and not having much luck.

Buck, he finally decides. He should go see Buck. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s in the parking lot at Buck’s place, and he can’t really remember how he got there. His truck is fine, though, and no police sirens break through the constant noise in his ears, so he figures he’d driven responsibly enough on the way here.

Why is he here, again? Did Buck ask him to come? He can’t remember. But he’s here, and Buck will be, too, so he goes inside.

--

Buck jumps a little as someone knocks on his door. He pauses the movie he’s watching and gets up, checking the time. Who the hell is at my door at midnight? he wonders, hoping it’s nothing bad but figuring it’s nothing good.

He’s right. As soon as he opens the door, Eddie is falling inside, a nasty bruise forming on the left side of his face and blood drying on the back of his head. Buck catches him immediately, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him inside.

“Jesus, Eddie, what happened?” he asks, leading him to the couch and lowering him down. 

Eddie looks up at him in confusion, and Buck notes with worry that his pupils are slightly different sizes. Concussion, he thinks. 

“Your head, Eddie,” he reminds the other man. “What happened?”

Eddie scrunches up his face in concentration, and finally says, “I got hit.”

“Hit?” Buck asks, not liking the direction this conversation is going.

Eddie sighs, trying his best to focus on Buck’s face as he works out what to say. “Some guy punched me,” he explains.

“Eddie,” Buck says, half-stern, half-concerned. “What guy?”

“I dunno,” Eddie tells him, honestly. “Just some guy.”

I’m going to have to drag this out of him, Buck thinks. He’s not sure how angry he should be at Eddie, given the current circumstances, but he is angry, because he’s sure he knows what happened - Eddie was street fighting again, and got knocked around a little more than he’d been bargaining for.

Even if he is mad, though, he doesn’t want to let Eddie know. Not right now, when he’s gazing around Buck’s apartment like he can’t remember how he got there. “I’m not mad,” he says, and he gives Eddie a gentle smile. “You were street fighting, right?”

Eddie looks down. “Yeah,” he admits, softly.

“Okay,” Buck says, and decides that’s good enough for now. They’ll talk about this later. “Thank you for telling me.”

Buck gets up from his position on the couch and heads into the bathroom to grab his first-aid kit and some washcloths. He’s going to patch Eddie up a little, then take him to Urgent Care. Ordinarily, he’d either have called 911 already or he’d take Eddie to a regular doctor, but it’s the middle of the night and he doesn’t think waiting till morning is the best idea, but nor does he think Eddie’s concussion is especially bad. Upon noting this, he comes to the startling realization that Eddie had to have gotten here somehow, and he’s betting he didn’t walk.

He emerges back into the living room, supplies in hand, fully intending on telling Eddie off for driving while concussed, but as soon as he comes into Eddie’s field of vision, Eddie’s asking him where he went and looking at him with such obvious concern on his face that Buck can’t stand the thought of yelling at him. When he’s feeling better, he decides, and returns to his place next to Eddie on the couch.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks, tripping slightly over the words. Buck has a first-aid kit and a washcloth and Eddie doesn’t think either of those items is going to help him very much. His head just hurts, that’s all. 

“‘M fine,” he insists, reaching up a hand to bat away the cloth that Buck is trying to clean his face with.

“You’re not fine, Eddie, you’re concussed,” Buck explains, pushing his hand away and lightly wiping some of the dirt off of Eddie’s face. 

“I am?” Eddie asks, after taking a minute to process the words.

“Yeah,” Buck affirms, gently turning Eddie’s head to the side to inspect the back of his head. 

As he’d thought, it’s only a small scrape, but, as is often the case with head wounds, it had bled quite a lot. He begins the careful process of scrubbing the blood out of Eddie’s hair, as best as he can with only a damp washcloth. 

“Doesn’t feel nice,” Eddie mumbles, and Buck stops what he’s doing a moment to rub a hand on his back. 

“I know,” he says, resuming his cleaning and apologizing when Eddie winces as he hits a sore spot.

A couple of minutes pass in relative silence, with Buck finishing up with Eddie’s hair and moving on to inspecting his hands, which are scraped up and bruising across the knuckles. 

He’s about to start bandaging an especially large scrape when Eddie makes a strange sort of choked noise, and he only has time to say, “I don’t feel so-” before he’s leaning forward and throwing up, stars flashing across his field of vision for the second time that day as the pain in his head spikes.

Buck’s hand comes up on Eddie’s back as he coughs and sniffs. “It’s okay, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades. “You’re okay.”

Eddie sure doesn’t feel okay. His head feels like it might explode and his ears have started ringing again and now his throat is burning too, and so is his face, because he’s just been sick on Buck’s floor, and Buck is already probably mad at him for street fighting again, and he hadn’t wanted to, really, but everything had just felt like so much and he hadn’t known what else to do, and-

“Breathe, Eddie,” says Buck’s voice, cutting through his rising panic. “I’m here, it’s okay.” 

Slowly, Eddie’s breathing evens back out, and he leans back into the couch with his eyes closed, like that will stop Buck from seeing the tears on his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” he says, yet again, gently reaching up a hand to brush away his tears.

“It’s not,” Eddie says, very quietly. 

“Okay, maybe not,” Buck admits, carefully pulling Eddie closer to him with an arm around his shoulders. “But we’re going to take you to Urgent Care, and make sure you’re alright, and then we’ll bring you back here and you can rest, and we’ll work on being okay in the morning.”

That sounds nice, Eddie decides, leaning his head into Buck’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay in the morning,” he echoes.

thanks very much for reading this!!! i hope that you have a very nice whatever time of day you are having :)

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine being set up on a blind date with Claire Redfield.

Anon requested: “Claire Redfield x Male Reader. Reader is the brother of Jill Valentine is introduced to Claire while they are set up on a blind date by Jill and Claire brother Chris.”

.

Sorry this one took so long, enjoy reading!

~~~~~~~~

“Y/n—scale of one to ten, how likely are you to go on a date within the next week?” Jill Valentine asked as she plopped down on the couch beside her brother. The two Valentine siblings were staying in a relatively safe location for the time being, though y/n was sure something would go wrong at any second.

“Negative ten.” Y/n didn’t even look up from the knife he was sharpening. Jill rolled her eyes.

“Come on, be serious.” Y/n sighed and stopped sharpening his knife, looking over at his sister.

“Fine. Negative ten thousand.” His answer earned him a punch to the shoulder.

“Y/n!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the world is a shit show. It’s not like I can walk up to someone and ask them out because they’ll probably try to shoot me or rip my throat out.”

“Y/n...” Jill’s tone had a slight warning to it.

“Jill...” He replied in the same tone.

“Look, just cause the world sucks now doesn’t mean you can’t have normal things. Besides, it’d do you some good to try and meet someone new.” Jill gave y/n her best smile (which has little effect on swaying y/n’s choice).

“...If it means you’ll lay off the ‘forever alone’ jokes, fine. I’ll try later.” Jill beamed and got up from the couch.

“Great! Go get cleaned up, your date is probably waiting for you.” Y/n nodded and went back to his knife, then exactly what Jill said registered in his mind.

“Wait, what?” But Jill was already walking away, laughing as she did so. “Jill!”

<—>

Meanwhile on the other side of the compound, another set of siblings were having a similar conversation.

“Chris, no.” Claire didn’t even look up from the book she was reading. Something about success and the path getting there. Boring in Chris’ opinion.

“Come on Claire, it might be fun!” Claire just turned the page in her book and shook her head.

“Nuh uh. ‘Fun’ is reading a book, or playing a game, or punching an asshole in the face. Dates with strangers aren’t fun.” Chris huffed and crossed his arms.

“You’ve never even been on one!” Claire rolled her eyes and shut her book, standing and walking towards her bedroom in the shared apartment.

“Case and point. I prefer not talking to strangers and dating people I know.”

“Come on Claire! Just once while we’re here! For me?” Chris got down on his knees, hands clasped together as he tried his best to make puppy dog eyes.

“...ugh, fine! But if I have a terrible time you owe me one!” Chris jumped up and pumped his fist in the air in victory.

“Deal. Now go get ready, your date probably is headed over to meet you now.” Claire’s eyes widened in surprise at the news of her sudden date, and she chased after her brother.

“Chris!”

<—>

Y/n wasn’t quite sure what one should wear to a blind date, so he choose to go with a (semi) clean pair of blue jeans and his brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt. Nothing too fancy, but he didn’t look homeless or like he’d spent several weeks crawling through garbage.

The small restaurant (really just a makeshift dining area under a very large tent) smelled good, and there was the sound of talking and laughter from the inhabitants.

“Excuse me? Are you y/n?” Y/n looked up to find a woman in a red vest staring at him.

“Uh, yeah. Y/n Valentine. I’m guessing you’re Claire?” The woman, Claire, nodded and held out her hand.

“Claire Redfield, nice to meet you.” Y/n shook her hand, and they went inside the tent. After grabbing a bowl of food each, they found a card table that was unoccupied and sat down.

“So...how’d you end up in a place like this?” Claire shrugged and poked at the food (more like mush) in her bowl.

“My brother found it, so we decided to settle down and take a break while we could. You?” Swallowing the tasteless spoonful mush, y/n waved his hand idly in the air.

“Me and my sister were just passing through, but she wanted to stay a little longer. Been here ever since.” Claire nodded in understanding and set down her spoon. Out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw a familiar face peeking into the tent.

“It’s got it’s perks though. Food, shelter, a place to sleep. Walls aren’t that sturdy though.” Y/n chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Sometimes I swear they’re going to fall over and let the dead in. Hopefully I’m not around when that happens.”

“I’ll drink to that.” The two continued to chat as they ate, sharing stories from before the world turned on its head. The evening would have ended pleasantly enough, until—

BOOM

A deafening crash sounded from outside the tent. Y/n and Claire shot up from their seats. Everything was silent. Y/n broke the silence.

“What the fuck?” Then the screams came from outside, joined by low moans and hissing.

“They’re inside! The zombies are inside the walls!”

“Run for it!” Everyone went into a panic. Claire and y/n moved out of the way of the stampeding citizens, trying to avoid being trampled. Y/n grabbed the knife he had left strapped to his leg in case of emergencies, and Claire pulled her gun out of its holster.

“Wanna kill some zombies?” Claire flipped off the safety on her gun and headed out of the tent.

“Gladly.” The compound’s guard/militia was already closing up the breach in the wall, but a good chunk of zombies had already gotten through. Y/n hacked through them and Claire shot any that were coming too close.

Others who had weapons joined the two, and soon the zombies moved no more. Y/n was breathing heavily and Claire was tense and ready to shoot again.

“That was interesting. Nice knife skills.” Y/n nodded and gestured to Claire’s gun.

“Nice shooting.” Claire holstered the gun and looked around. There wasn’t much else she’d be able to help here with.

“I should go check on my brother, he’s probably worried.” Y/n nodded and sheathed his knife.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister was already halfway here. It was nice to meet you., I’m sorry that we were interrupted.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. I’ll see you around.” Claire turned and started to walk off, until y/n called out to her.

“Wait!” She turned back around, curiosity written on her face.

“Yes?” Y/n rubbed the back of his neck and gave Claire a sheepish look.

“If you want—do you wanna grab a drink sometime? There’s a bar here that sells halfway decent drinks.” Claire looked surprised, then a grin broke out across her face.

“Sounds like fun. It’s a date.”

<—>

“So yeah. We hit it off pretty well. Aside from the giant interruption. We were thinking of meeting up later for a drink.” Jill dipped at her drink and smiled at y/n.

“That’s nice. I guess you’ll be thanking me for setting you up?” Y/n shook his head.

“Hah! Nope.”

“Y/n!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t spy on me!”

<—>

“Look at you! Being a big girl and trying out new things!” Claire punched her brother’s shoulder and continued trying to get the zombie bits scrubbed out of her vest.

“Fuck you. It was a barely a first date and more like a fight to survive.” Chris just laughed and elbowed Claire playfully.

“But you got a second date~” Claire just rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. And I could see you hiding by the tent entrance.” Chris’ eyes widened and he started to vehemently deny being anywhere near Claire’s date.

“What? Nooo. That totally wasn’t me. I was here, doing nothing.”

“Sure you were.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gif, all credit goes to the owner.

[journeymanwithpen]

The first memory

— Happy birthday, — she sings. — What would you like to do today?

— Thank you, Love! — They kiss.

— I don't want anything special, — he says — It's a day like any other.

— It's not, — she insists. — It's your birthday. And because of that, it's special!

— I think we humans are drunk on our own sense of self-importance, — he says. — We like to mark everything, but in fact all we celebrate is ourselves. It's quite pathetic, actually. Birthday is an anniversary of someone's coming to being. It's a folly celebrating that I existed. Now, if I knew exactly how long I have on this Earth, that'd be a completely different story, then I’d celebrate how long I have left. As it is, we all burn our wick, but none of us know exactly how long the wick is. We have our little birthday celebrations to mark how much of it we burned. Let’s celebrate any other day, a good day spent with you, for example.

She watches him, smiling silently. — Tell me about yourself, — she says.

— What's to tell, you know everything, — he says.

— I want to know who you were before me.

— Ah, — he sighs — you want a story.

— Always.

She nestles on his chest and pulls his arm around her shoulders.

— I already told you all I can remember, — he says. — My recollection is fuzzy, I can't separate what really happened from what I wished to happen.

— That's alright with me. That's why we call them 'stories'.

---

What's your first real memory? Not the story about yourself told by the parents or relatives? Nor the moments frozen in old photographs from the time before memories? The first thing you were aware of as a kid?

Mine is of a summer before I started school. A clear, warm sunny day. It must have been warm because I remember wearing shorts and a short sleeved shirt. I was riding a bike, the small green one my dad brought from Italy for my birthday. Everybody else had a "pony" - a locally made bicycle with low, U-shaped frame which folded in the middle and had horn-shaped handlebar. My Italian bike was special, if for nothing else, then for not being a pony. The model was Julia, proclaimed in stylish bold letters along its metallic-green frame. Even its name sounded better, I thought. It was smaller than a pony, true, but also lighter. It had the horizontal bar from the seat to the handlebar. It also had a slightly better chain and pedals size, which made it speedier. I liked to ride it fast, although for 6-and-a-half-year-old everything faster than walk seemed fast. That day Pop, my best friend, and I rode around the building where we lived, an ugly 5-story rectangle with four entrances and a facade made of corrugated tin panels. He had his old, slightly rusty blue pony. Pop was half a head shorter than me and even though I wasn't much more than sinews and bones back then, I was the larger of the two. Naturally, that meant I was stronger and faster too. When we tired of chasing each other in the same old circle, we ventured on the parking stretching to the side of our building. It was out of sight of our parents who occasionally glanced through the windows to check on us, and therefore forbidden.

Pop lagged behind, showing off in front of the girls from our building who liked to congregate at the parents' blind spot too. I could tell he was trying to catch some girl's eyes by the way he constantly blew up a light brown fringe of hair that always hang over his forehead. I sped up and made a swift turn at the end of the parking, then pushed the pedals hard heading back. Dean rode his pony in the middle of the parking coming toward me. Dean was a boy from the building across from ours, two years older than me, a tall, skinny kid with thick-rimmed glasses. He looked down at his pedals and rode straight at me. I moved all the way to the curb to avoid him, moving fast. When he finally looked up, he jerked his bike, handlebar wobbling toward the curb right into my path. We collided in a tangle of limbs, bicycle frames and wheels. I fell on the curb. It was a pretty high one, built that way to keep the cars from parking on the grass. The rest of us - Dean and both bicycles - fell on top of me. If you ever had a naughty spill, you may remember that the first moment after it happens everything is kinda hazy. The sound is muffled and the picture is out of focus.

I was dazed from the collision. Dean quickly jumped on his feet and pulled the bikes off me. I remember pulling my legs under me to try and stand up. And I remember the pain like I never felt before, nor after. I screamed.

Dean's glasses were askew. He was panicked by my howling. I don't remember if he said anything, my brain was a fireball of pain and my lungs and throat were working independently of it, creating a wail in decibels that could cause hearing loss. I remember Dean's forearms hooking in my armpits from behind, trying to help me on my feet. But, it couldn't work,because my right thigh developed an extra joint. It was bending in a weird angle right in the middle where it shouldn't have bent.

A woman who lived in the ground floor apartment under whose windows we crashed appeared in a rush. She shooed Dean away and took me in her arms. My legs hung over her arms, the left one bent in the knee, the right in the new joint in my thigh. She carried me toward the neighborhood clinic which was only a couple hundred yards away in another building. Her every step caused agony of molten lava shoot through my thigh. Days later, Pop told me what was happening outside my fiery bubble of pain: the woman shouted at the kids to call my parents. Pop rushed to our apartment and told my mother what happened.

In the clinic the woman put me on the bed. The nurse in charge called the ambulance. With my legs laid unmoving on the bed the excruciating pain subsided slightly, giving me a respite to catch my breath and whimper down from full-out screaming to sniveling. That was until the nurse had a strike of genius and decided to tie my legs together. As soon as she pulled my broken leg to align the knees together so she can wrap a bandage around them, my world exploded with pain all anew. By the time the ambulance arrived, although I was later told it was only minutes, I was so drained and afraid of more pain, I didn't want to move. But, move I did. Or, rather, moved I was - onto a stretcher and into the ambulance car where I tearfully pleaded with the driver to watch for the potholes because each one he hit felt like a hammer slamming into my broken femur.

In the hospital I was promptly taken to X-ray, then into the surgery. My part of the drama was almost over, at least the most painful part. A man in scrubs told me they have to make me sleep. He asked in kind, soft voice, would I prefer the needle or the mask. I haven't quite grasped what he meant by "mask," so I said needle. He turned to a small tray next to the bed and took what looked to me as an enormous needle, like the ones they used on horses. I called him in trembling voice and said I'd rather have a mask, whatever that was. He smiled kindly, put a rubber cup with some kind of hose attached to it over my nose and mouth and told me to count slowly to ten. I don't remember how far I managed, but it wasn't to ten.

In the meantime a parallel drama was happening outside the surgery. Mother was pulling connections, people she knew. There was a female surgeon from her hometown who owed a favor to grandparents. Mom called her on it. They discussed the available options - the usual procedure called for a surgery to insert a metal plate that'll screw together the broken parts of my femur. That was going to leave a long, ugly scar along the side of my thigh.

— There's another thing we can try, — dr. Metzger told mother — but it's risky and you'll have to take the responsibility for the outcome.

— What's that? — mother asked.

— It's a clean break, the bone didn't fragment and there are no visible damage to the muscle tissue. We can try to set the bone under the X-ray and plaster him in a really long cast.

— Okay, — mom said — what are the risks?

— The risk is that the bone can move after we set it. The first two-three weeks he should be completely immobile in bed. And we won't know the result until then.

— But there'd be no scar? — mother asked.

— No scar, and no cutting. Just a very long cast from his chest to the toes of his right leg, — dr. Metzger said. — But, you have to decide right now, because he's already put to sleep.

— Okay, — mother said after short pause — do it. Please!

---

I woke up in the cast. As promised, it wound around my torso starting under the ribs and entubed the right leg. The only opening was for the toes. I was held in its grip for the two summer months. It came off in the early days of September, just in time for the first day of school. The first week of the school I walked on crutches. It made me special, I guess. But, that's another memory, for another story.