#or the tons and tons of times i thought i had skin cancer because i noticed a mole i simply haven’t noticed before

[pocket-deer-boy]

I’m dealing with a little medical anxiety moment (not uncommon for me, usually it ends up being absolutely nothing but it fills me with dread anyways) and the one thing pulling me forward right now, is that if it IS somehow breast cancer? I will instruct the surgeon to give me the coolest fucking surgery scar possible and i can draw my oc’s with that. And everyone will be like “oh wow he has such a cool chest scar on only one chest that’s so sick” and they will be right. And now i want it to be breast cancer really bad but it’ll probably be something super lame

[graphedpaper]

Renter Problems 4

yandere!celebrity x fem!reader

Synopsis: Your once childhood nuisance turned celebrity, turned aggressor, is advancing further and further into his delusions, pushing past your boundaries in any way he sees fit. He won't even let you shower by yourself or get a cup of water to quench your dry throat. Just how much of your autonomy is he going to invade, and why is he doing this? Details: Verbal abuse, NSFW, manipulation, fem reader, kidnapping, non-con, masturbation, delusional thinking Warning: NSFW, Non-Con

The warm late morning sunlight glows on your face as you rustle up from your slumber. Your eyelids drudge open, and you blink a couple of times to wake yourself. You slowly sit up using your tied arms, your elbows digging into the biggest mattress you've ever seen. 

The first thought that comes into your hazy mind is the sore hunger pains coming from your empty stomach. You look down at yourself. You're still wearing your top and pants from almost 2 or 3 days ago, and you're not sure what day it is exactly.

And when you hear heavy footsteps nearing the bedroom door you immediately remember what happened yesterday and the tenseness returns, making your whole body sore. You try not to dwell on it, but you remember where you are now fully and completely.

You need to escape. 

As the tall, smooth white panel door opens inwards you slump back down into bed. You don't have the energy to stay on guard, and you're past starving. Everything feels light, especially your limbs, yet they also simultaneously feel tied down by ten ton weights.

"Hey, did you sleep well?" He asks walking towards you with a cup of hot tea. Good, you were parched. 

You manage to croak out a 'yes' and he sits beside you, placing down the beverage to help you up. He strokes your hair as he picks the mug back up with his right hand. You reach for it, bracing for the hot ceramic to touch your palms, but instead, Jacob brings it to his lips, leaving you dumbfounded at his blatant selfishness.

"Oh, you wanted it?" He asks, with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

You stare blankly at him back.

'Oh, no Jacob, it's fine, I don't want something to drink after being starved and kidnapped for days.'  You think, sarcastic and bitter. Yes, you did want the fucking tea after he threw you around, threatened to cut your finger and neck, and came in your mouth. 

"Of course my pretty girl can share with me." He adds sweetly. So sweetly in fact, it makes you question if what happened yesterday truly happened. What was going on? Were you being kidnapped? He hands you the steaming drink and with awkward T-rex arms you manage to lift the cup to your dry lips and take a few sips. The restraints on your wrist... It's awkward, it's janky, it's uncomfortable. The metal cuffs keep cutting into your skin and you can barely do anything.

"Jacob-" You start, attempting to ask him to unlock the handcuffs.

He shoots you a look. A 'don't say it and ruin the mood' look. It sends you a gut-tossing chill, muting whatever you were going to ask him to do.

" Babe, I found this great brunch place for us to try. You must be starving huh?" He quickly jumps to a different subject, before you even have a chance to ask him to take the handcuffs off of you, or let that dangerous stare of his sink in.

Brunch? Like as in a restaurant in public? Somewhere you could get help? Your scheming begins and your heartbeat rises at the chance of being saved.

"I was so worried, because you haven't eaten in a while."

Jacob can see it on your face and he can see it in your eyes. That flash of determination that he hated throughout childhood. The cancer that was infecting this pure love, it had to be cut out and blazed. He could almost hear you plotting your escape from the relationship.

"I ordered it to go, it'll be here soon." He tells He announces to you.

"Oh." You say in crestfallen hopelessness. Your stomach growls.

"I hope this can count as our new start." He adds on.

You try to hide your desperation from his observant eyes as your chance of escaping seems to start withering away. Perhaps focus on something else?

You look into his golden eyes. Today he's wearing a soft-looking grey long-sleeve and loose-fitting cargos. His silver watch on his left hand had been making a ticking sound this whole time, and you hadn't noticed in your narrow-sighted distress. He had clean clothes and a lovely shiny watch, while your hair was a mess, your clothes old.

"What can I wear? Can I take a shower?" You ask him abruptly. You didn't feel like a human anymore, you felt more like an animal. You needed to get away from him, at least temporarily. He scared you, his weird switches in behaviour, from doting to violent.

"I'll give you a bath, and your old clothes are in the other closet." He responds smiling.

Oh god, please, god if you're real don't allow him to give me a bath, please god.

"Jacob, please, just let me shower on my own." You beg. He hadn't seen you naked yet, and it was one of the last dignities you could hold on to. 

"You're too weak, now stop it." He snaps, annoyance flashing his face. 

And you do, you shut up like the helpless prey you are. And now he'll to see you stripped and all, his hands over your bare body-

'You're not a helpless prey,' you think to yourself. 'Don't ever think like that, especially not in a situation like this.' Didn't you know this well enough? For humans, morale was the most important thing in survival, it didn't matter if the heart was beating or not, first and foremost it was mind had to stay alive.

You blink back tears and slide yourself off the bed, following him to the washroom. He sees it, and perhaps he feels pity for your pathetic form, because he tells you to give him your hands. Hesitantly, you place your restrained hands in his, unsure what he'll do. You wait for him to reach into his left pocket, where he brings out a small flat key, which he uses to unlock your handcuffs.

So that's where he keeps the keys to the handcuff.

You shake out your wrists, free from the restraints and you feel- so light. You try not to look too hard at the red cuts and marks around them from the prolonged use, they give you mind-numbingly painful reminders of the terror you're facing.

"I'll put some ointment on it, okay?" He says, gently, while hovering his fingers above the injuries. 

He leads you across his wide bedroom to his bathroom. It's like another room on its own, grand with marble, and a great bathtub overlooking the view of the vast backyard pool. 

He turns the faucet of the sleek bathtub, as the water rushes down and echoes the room with the sound of falling splashes hitting porcelain. 

You stand near him, not daring to move an inch without the weight of your cuffs. He turns back to you and starts to pull your shirt off. You reluctantly lift your arms up to help him and you quickly cover yourself. You cross your arms over your bare chest and avoid Jacob's burning stare at you. To Jacob, you were overreacting. Why were you so insistent on acting innocent and shy in a relationship? What's the big deal seeing his girlfriend's tits? For fuck's sake, you'd already sucked him off, hadn't you?

You try to take yourself out of this experience while he pulls your pants down, leaving you down to your underwear. You knew this was his motive, but you can almost hear his arousal. The hot, buzzing excitement, disguised as a caring gesture revolts you. He wasn't really washing you out of concern of you being 'too weak', he just wanted to control you and see you naked.

"I can do it!" You exclaim, breaking the silent tension. His fingers linger on the waistband of your underwear. You don't dare to push his hands off of you, but you do step away from his touch.

Jacob brushes his loose hair back with his hand and sighs. 

"Babe, please, let's not fight over this, let me take care of you." He says, seemingly exasperated.

He pinches the elastic of your underwear and slowly pulls it down in not very well concealed anticipation. It's a light pink pantie with a small ribbon, you probably got it as a value set from a cheap store. If it was up to you, you wouldn't have to wear this juvenile shit anymore, you'd wear something... tinier. Lacier.

He holds his breath in excitement and when the last piece of your self-preserved dignity on you falls in a pile to your feet he takes a good look. Quick, but a good look nonetheless. That was a mistake though, because now he's harder than steel. He desperately wants to push you against the wall. Hear your heart start to beat faster as your arousal drips between your legs. 

He won't do it now, don't worry, you're too weak at the moment. He may get excited at times, but he's no rapist. Instead, he lifts you up onto the sinktop. Dipping his finger into a small pot, he gathers a dollop of clear gel. As he starts to apply the cool gel on your sore wrists, an herbal smell invades your nose. You try to observe him, see if he feels guilt that these injuries were from him. But he remains seemingly unfazed and without shame, as if these cuts appeared from nowhere.

"Shouldn't you apply it after the wash?" You ask. 

"Oh, right." He says, laughing. 

You force yourself to crack a smile. Jacob wipes the gel off his fingers.

"It's fine, we can apply it before and after, anything for you." Jacob tells you.

Jacob can't help but feel hopeful. It seemed like you were already warming up to him. Of course, right now, maybe you were just faking it, but soon, it would become habit, then it would become a part of you. Then, it would be you, truly you. You would love him, laughing by his side, whether in bed or on the red carpet. No one could deny it, could they? You wanted to drink the tea from the cup he drank from, and you let him help you change out of your clothes, you even smiled at him. Yeah, you were definitely falling for him as well, slowly, but surely. He saw you as a mother of his children, but he could also see you on all fours, being fucked into whenever he wished for. You were so special to him.

The splattering sound of the water quiets down, and the swirling steam rises from the water. 

He uses his right hand to check the temperature, and when he decides it's fine, he comes over to lift you from the waist into bridal position, carefully lowering you into the wide tub, akin to a baptism of a baby. He's gentle and caring, allowing you to adust to the hot water.

 You turn your head to the wide window, and you can see atop the long, large trees, lush green leaves shaking in the gentle breeze. You can almost imagine that warm sunlight smell, the one that saturates the world in richness and sticks on your clothes, the wind blowing your hair. That summer bliss you experienced as a young girl. You didn't deserve this, to be held captive. You deserved to be a teen girl with her friends looking forward to starting college. Jacob's turned his back, reaching into the drawers for soap, or something, and for those few seconds, his distracted self tempts you to escape like honey to an ant. You want so badly to get up and sprint out, but the fear stops you. When he comes back you avert your eyes to the clear water. Jacob smiles. Your bare skin under the slow-moving water ripples, it's distorted but there.

"You like waffles?" He asks suddenly, kneeling down behind your head as he squirts a cool liquid onto your scalp, sending tingles down your spine. He massages it into your hair as a fresh, rosemary scent wafts around you, the aromatic bubbles starting to form into suds. 

"Waffles? They're okay." You reply, uncomfortable at how comfortable you were becoming. Fuck, why was this relaxing? The hot water invaded all your senses and it soothed your tense body.  

"What do you want to eat then?" He asks, his hands working at your wet hair. 

"Anything's fine, I'm starving." You reply

And it's true, you couldn't possibly care if it's a waffle or a pancake. Hell, give the peeled skin of a potato and you just might eat it with the fervor of a child and a chocolate cake.

Jacob bristles at the word 'starving'. It's just how you said it, almost as if you're accusing him of your pain. It's not his fault, it's yours that you couldn't stay up until a few minutes to eat. It's not like he prevented you from eating, so why were you saying it like that? Why were you constantly treating him like that?

"You fell asleep before dinnertime." He states accusively, his voice going from calm to stiff.

"I know." You reply back, sensing his rigid form behind you. 

You don't have to look back to visualize his face, dark twisted eyebrows and a deep, wronged frown. It's best to agree with him in a passive, neutral manner, at least when he's swinging from one emotion to the next. He doesn't feel like a person, he feels like a bomb you must cradle to your chest, one wrong move causing it to detonate and kill you.

There falls a moment of quiet while he rinses the soap from your hair. The only sounds are the gentle splashes of water and scrubbing of soap. He takes a sweet citrus-smelling body wash scrub, washing your arms and torso. He takes his time to wash your legs, and his fingers linger in between your thighs. His fingers brush against your clit and you sit up straighter, alert. 

"You might get an infection if I don't clean it well enough, I've heard about it," He explains.

But it's a lame justification, because you both know what he's actually doing. Infection, my ass. He's at the side of the tub now, still knelt down, and his index finger makes a light circle clockwise on your bud, twice. It may have been a mistake the first time, but now it's intentional. You can't help but gasp in horror. You mentally smack yourself in the face, and pray he doesn't take the gasp as encouragement to continue.

"Jacob," You whisper, turning to his face to look at his expression. 

His eyes stare back at you, a dark greed filling his face.

"Jacob, not right now," You try to tell him again.

"You'll like it, I promise. It'll feel good." He replies, focusing on making tight circles on your clit as you fidget your legs and splash some water over the edge. Your clit swells with a new type of arousal, and you don't know if it's the heat from the water, or something more internal. Jacob enjoys the scene playing out before him, your body contorting to handle the pleasure he's giving to you, while you try to stay still for him. You're so compliant. You contain any sound that might escape, in fear of egging him on to continue further. 

"You wanted this to happen, huh? You asked for a shower? Knowing I wouldn't be able to resist your naked body?" He asks mockingly. He rubs your engorged clit faster, and you clutch the sides of the tub with knuckle-white hands. 

You want to deny his words but a moan slips past your lips as that familiar pressure builds up inside you. You want to scream at him to stop but your mind flashes back to the knife he held to your neck, the needle he used to sedate you. He finds satisfaction in your unravelling, all by him, and he can't help but palm his own arousal underneath his pants. 

"Jacob, too much!" You whimper. 

Oh god, it feels good, but if I come he'll take it as encouragement, oh god, oh no, 

"It's okay, you can come, I know I'm making you feel good, so don't shy away." He tells you sweetly, adoring that flushed look on your face, the warmth that comes from your gratification of his touch. It validates him, to see you lose control like this. All those celebrity bitches were already sluts that were used to sex, but you were simpler to please. He could never let you go, you were the only one he could do this to. He's too distracted by his fantasies of you and him, to notice your orgasm as your legs tremble and your moans become a background as he mindlessly draws more circles on your sensitive clit. How would you react to him proposing? Somewhere public, of course, where everyone could see the love you two shared. What about a sweet baby boy, who could grow up to be another successful actor, just like his dad? After that, a beautiful young girl, that looked just like you and him. She could easily become a model with those looks. 

Your pleas for him to stop over-stimulating your poor self brings him back to ground as he smiles at your exhausted face. 

"Good girl, now let's get you dressed so we can eat." 

-----

You two are sitting down on the sofa to have brunch. Jacob finds it more intimate, and casual, than sitting at the dining table. Besides, the dining table brings back bad memories, don't they? While you're devouring liège waffles with intense speed, Jacob has an egg sandwich. 

"Is it good?" Jacob asks you.

Jacob wishes you'd instigate more conversations. He wants you to thank him for the orgasm, and the food. Throw up some compliments, and smile at him like you did in the washroom. Can't you stop eating for just a minute and talk to him?

"It's good, where'd you get them?" You ask, and you instantly raise an eyebrow at your own tone after you say this. You said it a little too normal for your own liking.

Could you be getting used to this? How could you act so nonchalant in a kidnapping? Was this kidnapping?

"There's this stupid guy I know. He cooks, owns a few restaurants." He responds vaguely.

"Why stupid?" You ask him, noticing the look of distaste on his face.

"He's an heir to the throne of some country, but he put it on pause and now he causes trouble here." Jacob says. He looks agitated just talking about him. 

You're surprised. 

"Really? He turned down the chance to be king?" You prod more, eager for any chance to bring Jacob's guard down. 

"Yeah." He answers curtly.

Jacob sighs and looks back at you enjoying your waffles and he can almost feel a warm happiness filling everything broken inside him, like molten gold. You were the best girlfriend, you made him want to be better.

You can feel his eyes on you.

It's disturbing. 

"Do you have work today?" You ask, avoiding eye contact with him and staring at a painting on the wall.

"No, today's off." He answers, still looking at you, with his arm over the couch in a relaxed manner.

Well, any predator would be relaxed when faced with a puny prey. 

You realize then and there that you've lost track of the date.

"Wait, what's the date today?" You ask him. 

Jacob hesitates to tell you. He doesn't know why, why he wants to with hold this information from you, it simply feels wrong to tell you something that relates to the outside world. It's a strange feeling that he's never sensed before, he's really not sure of the reasoning he has inside for his avoidance to tell you the date. It then irritates him a bit, that you would ask something like that when you two were enjoying a meal together. You weren't eating with the whole world,  you were eating with him. So your attention should be on him.

"Saturday." He finally answers after a few seconds, lying through his playful grin.

You accept his answer, and make a note to not lose track again. You each go back to working at your individual late breakfast when another question forms rapidly in your mind and blurts out from your mouth before you can stop it.

"Where's my laptop and phone?" You ask him.

Jacob pauses eating and turns his body towards you. You can't decipher this look. But it's dangerous, it's dark, it's a warning. You look back at him, not daring to break this twisted version of a staring contest. 

"Maybe you'd like to go outside." He says, ignoring your question. 

And you immediately understand what he means. Perhaps you wouldn't have before, but you're starting to understand his nature. This is not just an aversion of your question, it's a threat, that he will keep you inside for however long he pleases if you don't act the way he wants you to act. That reply serves as a reminder to you that he's in control here. That it's either you do what he wants and gain some freedom, or remain locked up.

"Yes, that would be nice," You reply, meekly. 

"Good, we can go sometime when you're ready." 

Jacob pauses, in thought.

"But for now let's stay inside. We can watch my new movie."

[harbingerscry]

Comfort (Ghost x GN!Reader)

I normally have no drive to write about Ghost but I wrote a small drabble about a week ago that I just had to flesh out. There is more to this but I feel it would be more appropriate to post it as a separate part. I hope y'all enjoy!

Aquila is just a codename, it means Eagle in Latin. I just thought it was cute because it was the nickname my Latin teacher gave me for class in high school.

This does not contain NSFW content

There aren't many men you let see you like this. Even fewer you would actively sit with as you wade through the silent but turbulent waves of your emotions. It was always the hardest after a mission. When the adrenaline that had you standing up on Everest eventually let you nosedive into the ocean after the rocks give way underneath you. It wasn't always bad, a jog to clear your head was enough to stave off the plummet. Other times, there was nothing that could help, you just had to let yourself float along. The comforting heat and pressure of another’s back pressed to yours was enough to keep you grounded though, and the nicotine filling your lungs allowed jittering nerves to settle into a comfortable buzz beneath your skin. 

“Still breathin’ Aquila?” Ghost’s gruff voice rumbled from behind you before pulling another audible drag from his own cigarette. The question was metaphorical, he could easily feel every pull and release of air from your lungs through the muscles of your back pressed to his. However, he knew you too well. After being on and off the field with you for years he could read you like a book.

“What makes any salad a Caesar salad?” The question made you turn from your thoughts and raise an inquisitive brow. He must have felt he had your attention because he was quick to drop the punch.

“As well as I'll ever be able to Ghost.” The humor in your voice was dry like a desert but it made him scoff nonetheless. That tone told him all he needed to know. The two of you were alike in similar but different ways after all. Both scarred by trauma that ran root deep. It made you an ocean, able to bring joy and comfort with the same waters that pull others to its darkest depths. His made him a mountain. Steady, strong, forever standing through tumultuous storms. He was deadly though, quick to burry you under tons of rock or let the cliffs crumble under you. It's the reason you two pulled towards one another like a set of magnets. It was also why he found himself with you right now instead of brooding alone.

“Stabbing it twenty-three times.” 

There was a short pause as you processed the joke. 

“...That was horrible.”

“Got ya to react didn't it?” Nothing could have stopped the choked snort that left your nose. He always does this when he sees you getting too far into your thoughts. You've noticed it's his way of trying to lighten the mood or keep someone from spiralling too far. Regardless of how dark the jokes can get. A smile was quick to spread across your face for the first time since landing this morning. 

“Spose you're right about that.” You stubbed out the last bit of your cancer stick and swiveled yourself to look out at the tarmac-covered base you get to call home. There were a few soldiers doing rounds due to night watch but it was an otherwise quiet night. You would even call it peaceful but you’d hate to jinx it. Ghost took his time in turning to look out at base with you; adjusting his balaclava to cover his face like usual after giving a final exhale of gray smoke. 

“Thank you for sitting with me Simon, means a lot.” Though your words were a whisper, the gratitude lined with thinly veiled affection was clear in your voice. You couldn't see it due to the face covering but hearing it made him smile. Small moments like this are what make his heart try to flutter against the tight hold of his will. 

“You're welcome (y/n)…now go to bed.” His command was met with an amused huff as you slowly rose from the ground and stretched, various parts of your body popping in protest. You’d think your joints would be less stiff considering your stretch and run around 1600, but you weren’t getting any younger you guess. 

“Getting rid of me that quick? How cruel.” The faux pout on your lips made Ghost raise a blonde eyebrow in amusement. He could never get rid of you. He wanted you around too badly, craved your presence too much. He has never had the guts to say it out loud; despite working together for well over a year now. Why? Well fear was a big reason, he has already lost so many of the people he loves. Losing you would be another nail in his coffin.

“Need my alone time.” You nodded in spite of the longing you felt, you never have enjoyed leaving his side. However, everyone requires some form of alone time, and Ghost treasures his more than most.

“I understand, but ring if you need me, okay? I'm always here.” With that you strode to the building's door, opening it and slipping inside. As you began heading towards your room; you couldn't help but wish you had x-ray vision. You wanted to look back and see if his gaze still lingered on where you once were.

Unbeknownst to you he was doing exactly that. The man was down bad, and he knew it.

[lovecla]

OCEAN EYES | connor bedard

chapter two.

➴ warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

➴ word count: 2.8k

➴ author’s note: thank u to everyone who read the first chapter. it's insane for me. thank u thank u thank u. hope u like this one too :))

CONNOR didn’t speak to you for the rest of the night.

You knew he still was at your house but no matter how many laps you and Chloe walked, you couldn’t find him for the love of God.

And honestly, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Lying to him was just the worst and all you wanted to do was call him and apologize.

But you couldn’t do that with Chloe, could you? You already felt like the worst friend of all time because the truth was: you didn’t want them to date. You didn’t know the exact reason for that but you still felt that way.

You decided to call it a night and go back to your room, saying goodbye to Chloe— she said no when you asked her to sleep over— and going upstairs. You removed all of your makeup and clothes, putting on your favorite pajamas, trying to find some comfort in them.

Trying to sleep was useless, the downstairs noise not helping at all. So you just grabbed your TV remote and accessed your Disney+ account, pressing play on the first Marvel movie you saw.

It was going to be a long night.

—

“YOU look like you had a long night. Too much partying?”

Alex’s voice sounded too loud and too annoying for your taste, but it was probably due to the fact that you only managed to sleep two hours last night.

“I fucking swear to God, I’m gonna punch you in the face right now,” you mumbled, grabbing the cereal from the counter and pouring a large amount into your mouth.

“No, I’m serious! And you look crazy as hell with the Spider-Man hoodie and the sunglasses. Did you join a crackhead community in which you have to dress like that to be a member?”

“Alex! Fuck!” You yelled, annoyed as hell. “Go play some Hockey! Do some research on fucking cancer! I don’t know, just leave me alone.”

You knew you were being difficult for no reason. It wasn’t Alex’s fault you hadn’t slept well— or that Chloe was trying to make Connor her newest prized possession. But somehow your stupid, sleep deprived brain thought otherwise.

“Boo, you’re no fun today. Hit me up when you leave The Crackheads.” Alex smiled, leaving the kitchen after grabbing his gym bag.

Gym. Hah. He’s probably going to work out with Connor.

The thought made you want to crawl out of your skin. You actually missed Connor a lot. It was almost the end of the season and they travel a lot for the games, so you didn’t get to see him or Alex for a long time. And now that he is back, what did you do? Kind of forced him to go on a date with your friend and lied to him? Yeah. Can someone give me the award for being the worst person ever? Thank you.

You laid on the couch, thinking about your situation. Sure, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe Connor would hate Chloe or maybe Chloe would hate Connor.

But what’s there to hate? Sure, he can come off as a cold, awkward king to everyone and his smiles almost always look forced (even if they aren’t) but Connor has so much to offer.

In these two years you’ve been friends, he never let you down, not once. Whenever you had movie nights with some of Alex and Connor’s teammates, he would always sit beside you and vote for the movie you wanted the most. He’d always let you rest your head on his shoulder, and even sit on his lap if you wanted to take a nap.

He buys you gifts and takes you to the movies at every chance he has, besides buying you tons of Marvel merch and different candies from the states he visits. Sometimes he sends chaotic photos to you, looking like a mess after a game or practice.

Besides checking on you at every chance he got, whenever he was away.

He was everything you could ask for and then some more.

Truthfully, it had been a long time since you had someone who cared as much as he did. Yeah, you have Alex and your parents, but besides them? You only had Chloe. And also Madi, but you weren’t sure if she considered you as a friend like you did her.

So Connor liking you was unexpected but so welcome. Maybe that’s why you were feeling so down about this whole situation.

You don't want to lose him.

“Fuck,” you whispered, still laying on the couch like a starfish. “I need to get a fucking grip.”

A second after you finished your sentence, your phone rang in your hand.

You smiled for the first time that day. Frank was just another one of Alex’s teammates and he was funny as hell. Usually he just wanted to see you whenever he fought with his girlfriend and needed someone to comfort him.

You groaned. Men are so weird.

You got dressed anyway and exactly an hour and a half later, Frank was at your front door, waiting inside his expensive ass car.

“I’ll start charging you since I’m basically your therapist,” you said, as soon as you got inside his car. “How is Josie still dating you, that’s the million dollar question.”

He smirked. “I can name a few reasons.”

“You’re gross. Where are we going?”

“That one Irish pub everyone loves. Hopefully no one will be able to recognise us and I’ll be able to drink my ass off.”

“Not happening, big guy. I can’t carry you while sober, much less while drunk. You’re like twice my weight.” You smiled, feeling a little bit better.

“Stop fat shaming me and be quiet.”

The rest of the drive was cool, Frank talking your ears off about Josie and how in love with her he was.

It was fun to see such a young guy talking about a girl like Frank talked about Josie. He wanted to marry her and be the father of her children, completely ignoring the fact that he’s only twenty-one years old and she’s still in college.

The pub was half full when they arrived but thankfully no one recognised them— or if anyone did, they didn’t say anything.

“I’ll get myself a beer. For you, a Diet Coke, right?”

Usually, you’d just nod and say yes. But you were feeling really shitty. And even though you absolutely hated the taste of alcohol, you wanted your mind to shut the hell up about Connor and Chloe, who were probably having the time of their lives on their little date.

And yeah, what would a little bit of beer even do? It’s not like you’ll get drunk with just one beer. Nah.

“Actually, I’d like the same thing as you.”

Frank smiled. “Ooh, feeling brave today? I see you, girl. Don’t let Alex know that I gave you beer though. He’ll beat my ass.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

—

TURNS out that one beer can get you drunk.

You don’t remember how it happened. If it had been the beer you drank or the several vodka shots you took afterwards.

The only thing you knew was that Backstreet Boys were really good and you totally had to get on the table to dance.

Only if Frank hadn’t stopped you.

“Frank, come ooon,” you said, not really sure if your words were coming out the proper way. “Let’s sing everybody: I want it that way!”

“Tell me why!” Some people answered, or at least you think they did. You’ll never know.

“No more singing, dancing or drinking for you,” you heard his voice from afar, which was really weird since you were sure he was holding you. “Gosh, I didn’t know you couldn’t handle your alcohol. I need to call someone. Wait here.”

He left—probably— and you stayed there, singing Backstreet Boys with your new friends. You were having the time of your life, really, and turns out that drinking is super cool and you probably should do it more.

“I want it that way…” you mumbled, feeling sleepy.

Some time passed before Frank returned, saying something about someone sober picking someone up. You started to wonder who it could be, and came to the conclusion that it was probably Alex since Connor was busy.

Busy with your best friend who’s probably on her way to fuck him like she did with half of their school.

No. That’s just… mean. You shouldn’t think that of Chloe even if it is true. She’s your friend. Just because she and Connor were probably on each other’s throats it didn’t mean she wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“I really like him,” you whispered, or at least you think you did. Your lips felt like moving but no words reached your ears.

After snoozing for half an hour, you felt a hand on your hair, caressing it gently. It felt so, so nice. It reminded you of Connor, because he usually did the same thing to you before you fell asleep on him. And maybe this beer was Bedard induced because you were actually smelling his perfume too.

And… hearing his voice?

“Why did you give her beer? You know she doesn’t drink, asshole.”

“She asked for it! What the hell was I supposed to do?” Frank sounded funny. Like Rugby in Regular Show. Or was it Rigby? Maybe Ragby.

“I’m taking her home. How are you getting home?”

Frank answered something but you couldn’t hear it, since you were really busy trying to get your head up. Why does it weigh so much? Actually, since when does it weigh so much?

You felt two cold hands on your hips, making you shiver. They felt too familiar.

“Come on, El. Let’s go home.”

You finally managed to open your eyes and stare at the man holding you.

Connor.

"Con," you heard yourself saying, not trusting yourself to say something as complicated as Bedsy in that moment. "Hi." You whispered.

His eyes softened and he smiled a little at you. "Hi, El. Why did you drink so much?"

"Dunno," mumbling, you leaned forward, resting your face on the crook of his neck. "Wanted to forget."

"Forget, huh? We'll talk about that later." He said, starting to move your body around until you were out of the pub.

Frank forgotten somewhere else. You didn't really care.

Connor smelled too good for you to think of anything else.

—

SOMEHOW, you ended up at Connor's place. You knew it was his place because 1) he had a 98 Bedard jersey plastered on the wall and 2) he was the only one to buy an apartment instead of a house.

It was nice and cosy and you actually loved coming here, but you limited yourself to only visiting when Madi visited him too. You didn't want to seem needy or anything like that.

Even though his place was a lot nicer than Alex's.

"I'm gonna give you one of my hoodies and sweatpants so you can change. I'm not sure if you can wash yourself so you'll have to sleep without showering. I hope you don't kill me in the morning."

Something inside you wanted to talk back and tell him that he could wash you if he wanted to, but you had a feeling future you would absolutely die at that so you just nodded once, regretting it immediately because it made your world start spinning fast.

"I wish the world would stop spinning," you confessed.

Maybe drinking isn't that cool.

"It will soon. You just need to change, eat and sleep." True to his words, Bedard did give you a change of clothes-his clothes- and food; plain black coffee and plain toast, but, yeah! Food.

You were still feeling like you had done a hundred cartwheels in a row but now you were only seeing one Connor and you could talk without sounding like a three year old.

"Thanks for picking me up." You say, after eating the last bite of toast.

"It's fine. Why did you drink?"

You shrugged.

"El," he got closer, frowning. "I know you. You hate drinking."

He was right. You did. And usually, you'd be happy with your diet soda. But forgetting about Connor's date with Chloe seemed like a good reason.

Oh my god. Connor's date.

"Connor," you started, voice quiet. "What about your date with Chloe?"

"I left."

Your eyes doubled in size but you couldn't help but feel a bit... happy.

"But... what do you mean?"

"Ellie, I only went to that thing because you wanted me to."

Oh.

Oh.

"Because apparently, you had a super important date with a guy— Frank— and couldn't make it tonight." He sounded hurt. Maybe you were just too drunk.

"I didn't have a date with Frank. It was a lie," you whispered, eyes starting to feel wet. You took a deep breath. You weren't going to cry over this. "M sorry I lied to you, Con. It's just that—"

"We can talk tomorrow, El. Let's get you to bed." He got up and started pushing you towards his bedroom.

But your heart still felt heavy on your chest. And your eyes were still wet.

"No, Con, I need to tell you—” you stopped him, both of your hands on his chest, your eyes focused on his. "I didn't want to lie to you. I swear— I would never lie to you willingly because I lo—” you stopped yourself and swallowed down your words. Is it okay for you to say you love your friends? Yeah it probably was. Fuck that. "I love you, Con, and I would never hurt you on purpose. It was just that—"

"El, you're drunk and you're going to regret all of this tomorrow." He tried to stop you once more, his hands on your waist as he forced you to start walking again.

You snapped. "No, Con, please, fuck," Great. Now you're crying. "Just listen to me, please."

"Come to bed and I will."

You frowned but nodded. Despite all of your visits to his apartment, it was your first time in his bedroom. It was all Connor-like, neat, clean and tidy. Some pictures of his family and some trophies adorned the walls and shelves. You caught yourself smiling. One of the pictures was of the day their team won some championship, in which you somehow ended up in the Bedard family picture beside Madi.

He made you lay down on his extra large bed— why would he need a bed this big?— and put the duvet on top of you. It was a chill night and the warm it provided made you sigh happily.

"Are you going to sleep with me?"

Connor stared at you for what felt like a year. Those blue eyes awkwardly staring at you and you felt yourself cringe, just now realising how you worded the phrase.

You both had already slept together, but on the couch and in front of everyone. Never alone and on a bed. But you didn't want to sleep alone, not really.

"Well," he finally said, taking his shirt off and laying down right beside you. It wasn't long until you moved, so that your head was on top of his chest and his arm around you, holding you close to his body.

"Chloe likes you," you mumbled, looking at his chest going up and down, calmly. "At least she thinks she does. I don't think she really likes you. Not like I do, anyway."

He chuckled. "Like you do?"

"Yeah," whispering, you started to draw little patterns on his left peck. "She asked me to introduce you both and I told her that it wasn't a good idea, because you're you and... well. You're not much of a people person."

You heard his soft laugh.

"That I am not."

"She didn't care. She wanted it either way. I didn't know she was going to put you right on the spot like she did. I swear."

"I believe you. And it's fine."

"It's not," you sniffed and stopped moving your hand, trying to wipe your own wet face. When did you start crying anyway? Being drunk is weird. "I shouldn't have lied to you, even if it wasn't on purpose. I didn't have a date and there isn't a guy. I just wanted Chloe to be happy. And even if I don't want to admit it..." you bit your lips. "You guys would look awesome together."

You felt his body stiff underneath you. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well. She is your perfect girlfriend. She's blonde, gorgeous, rich and looks good as hell on cameras. It'd be good for your image." Your own mouth felt bitter after saying those words, but sometimes the truth felt like that.

He took a while to answer, and just when you could feel your whole body falling asleep, you heard his voice saying, softly:

"Yet she's not the one laying on my chest right now."

[harocat]

omg you have a cat named David??? can we see him pleaseee??? 🥺🥺🥺

Sure! So David is a foster fail. He came from the house of an elderly man who was a hoarder and passed away. The shelter had been in contact with him and had at least spayed and neutered his cats, but when he died, his family just threw them out on the street instead of contacting said shelter. >:\ Luckily the shelter found out quickly.

Anyway, when we took David in foster, he'd dropped a ton of weight and was frighteningly thin. Davie is a BIG cat. He has a really naturally large frame, but he was only about 5.5 lbs and it was so bad. At times his back end dragged just because he was so emaciated. Literal skin and bones. They were looking into something that may have caused this, but in the meantime, we were in charge of trying to fatten him up. I believe a temporary feeding tube would have been the next step, if this had not worked. There was a concern there could be an underlying cause like cancer, but fortunately after testing, they figured out he was healthy outside of this. The shelter believes it truly could have been mental health related.

At first he had to be supervised while eating, and he ate so slow. When we gave him his wet food, we'd have to sit there with him for about thirty minutes. The supervision was because we discovered he was an extremely social eater and would not eat unless there was someone else there (whether another cat, or one of us). He LOVES other cats. I guess it makes sense. He lived with over thirty of them, but we're confident he could only be happy in a multi cat home and that's one of the reasons he deteriorated at the shelter so rapidly. He's got a really meek, quiet, sweet-natured personality, but he finds such joy in being surrounded by kitties.

Anyway, with persistence, Davie eventually gained a ton of weight. He's fully our biggest cat now; about 14.5 lbs and he's not even what one could call fat. He also eats without help (and at a normal speed now lol). And he became such a happy boy. Sometimes you can look into a kitty's eyes and just see how grateful they are, and that's him at all times.

We foster failed him in part because knowing his delicate emotional state, we legit thought he might fall apart again if he had to move, especially to a place that wasn't a multi-cat home. He was also about nine years old (eleven now), and change is scary for any cat, let alone an older one. We truly felt like this was his home and the place he was meant to be, not just because we adored him, though obviously we do, but because he just fit in here.

[softpine]

Do you think your sims would have survived the lockdown part of covid? I know we all pretty much lost our minds. Do you think any of them would have been the type that "took advantage" of the time?

honestly i don't know when 2020 would've fit into the timeline so i'm basically fudging this whole thing lmao

oh beth & caroline would've been REALLY close to filing for divorce. with cara being a tattoo artist, she would've been completely out of work and beth would've been working from home (she's a children's therapist) but there are no extra rooms in the house to use as an office, so she would've had to either use the computer in the living room/dining room/kitchen which would be a major privacy issue, or set it up in their bedroom which is super small. they were already having relationship issues at that time, but being trapped in such close quarters..... they would be at each other's throats... and they wouldn't even be able to have crazy makeup sex (the only tried and true solution to their problems fjksjd) because asa is in the next room doing virtual school 😭 btw asa definitely started making bread from scratch and promised himself he would keep doing it after life went back to normal (he did not).

stevie would still be working. KD would have let her stay home, but stevie would be desperate to get out of the house (oh my god her parents would be insufferable) and not be lonely anymore. you know that tiktok that's like "you think you can hurt my feelings but it was my job to enforce the cracker barrel mask mandate as a 17 yo butch lesbian" literally that but "it was my job to enforce the mask mandate for rural american truck drivers as a 16 yo trans girl" 🫡

elaine and jada are lucky because their bedroom windows face each other, so they could technically see each other. elaine would've fallen down the skincare rabbit-hole and completely ruined her skin in a matter of months (me too girl...... happened to the best of us) and jada would've had time to make tons of art, but she would have extreme art block and spend most of her time just laying in bed being anxious (again. me too girl.)

i guess casper would still be in high school, and sadie was still just a toddler. danny had already been working from home for years, so it would be nothing new for him

trigger warning for serious discussion of covid below

mikaela is a pediatric nurse at a hospital, so i don't really want to go into detail about how emotionally damaging that time must've been :( she would be working nonstop and i think she wouldn't even want to go home afterwards for fear of transferring germs. she might have stayed in a hotel during the peak of things

i'm gonna be honest i think 2020 would've been the worst year of coco's life because her boyfriend had cancer and was going through chemo, so obviously she could not be anywhere near him unless she was willing to be 100% quarantined with him, which she couldn't do because she needed to work. she had people counting on her. and she had.... a lot of other stuff going on too, some of which would've been affected by a pandemic but i can't really go into detail about that

and finally i have to state the obvious -- people died, no matter how careful they or their families were, and sometimes it didn't even matter how healthy they were before covid hit. i had family members who were immunocompromised get covid and i thought they wouldn't survive but they did, while other people in my life were only in their 40s/50s and healthy but they didn't survive. so in my mind, there's no point trying to guess how my characters would fare, and also it just feels icky in general. but it felt weirder to not acknowledge this at all, so. here's this ramble.

i also want to send love to anyone who continues to be affected by covid in a world that wants you to believe it's "over", whether that be from long covid, grief, being immunocompromised yourself, etc. i see you ♥

[broken0verseer]

The hunters and the man Pt.1

TW: Implied Child Neglect, cringe?

Word count: 1,599

Fear

It’s one of the most common feelings among childern, I mean you would be scared too if everything didn’t fully make sense and adults always think their better then you, I mean how would you like it if every little concern or problem you had was just brushed off because the ADULT DECIDED IT WASN’T WORTH THEIR FUCKING TIME AND NOW YOU HAD A SCAR MARRING YOUR FACE THAT MAKES OTHER KIDS LAUGH AT YOU ALL BECAUSE THE PARENT WHO WERE SUPOOSED TO PROTECT YOU WERE TO BUSY GETTING HIGH AND ARGUING ABOUT FUCKING POLTICS!

Sorry, got a little heated there, but you get what I mean don’t you? I mean being pushed around just because you're small is awful and I hate it.. Oh! I haven’t properly introduced myself yet to you, I am Aleksandra Zabójca A polish-American kid who lives with her parents, dog, and used to live with her auntie as well, but after a big  fight with my parents, Auntie left and I can’t find her, I know she's somewhere at the local lake though. 

But that Lake is near a camp called camp blood. It's pretty unsettling, or is it called something else?

I woke up to the sound of my parents fighting again. Can’t they at least fight quietly?

“Seriously why won’t they just get a divorce, be so much easier” I muttered bitterly under my breath before reluctantly leaving the warmth and comfort of my bed before starting my daily search or my scarf which I know I left on my desk last night, but noo, it’s not there anymore 

Seriously, does the universe hate me?.. Wait.

“Crap! You gotta be kidding me” I panicked once I realized that the only way it could go missing was by miś my Husky that was apparently from Siberia, get it, cause my dog is a Siberian Husky.. I’m funny

Seriously, why is the dog breed called that? 

Probably cause it’s a husky from Siberia 

I continue to look for Miś and my scarf, looking through my entire room aimlessly before deciding I’m better than this and grabbing my large poncho with a hood, it had bear ears I love this poncho

Deciding I can be mad at my bear of a dog later I venture downstairs quietly, Mom had gone back to bed and Papa is making me breakfast, At least he cares I shook myself from the thought and continued my quiet crusade from the stairs to the kitchen to sneak some bacon without having to acknowledge the fact that the Miś has most likely ripped up my scarf, it was something Pa had made himself, and while he did care about me, he hated Mom more than he loved me..

Seriously, what is stopping them from divorcing?!

“Where do you think you’re going Aleksandra?” I heard my Pa’s voice before I could see him. How did I not see him, he’s the size of the front door!

In short I ended up getting an earful from Pa about keeping my clothes out of the dog's reach and asking before taking food. But How was I supposed to know that Miś could reach onto my desk?! Also the food was mine anyways!

But overall not a terrible morning, it could’ve been worse, Mom would have talked to me about it, and I did not want to listen to a woman who barely cared enough to get me treatment for the skin cancer on my cheek and jaw to lecture me on what to do..

She's the whole Reason Pa had to cut part of my face off.. If she wasn’t so concerned on buying her stupid vodka then maybe I wouldn’t look like this

Sorry, I’m getting distracted, but we are now at the bus stop where I wait for my one and only friend Gabirella or as I like to call her Gabi.

I am noticing a ton of the dumb college students who usually hang around here and either

A: make fun of my face

B: make fun of me and Gabi

C: do drugs and smoke

D: all of the above

I was pretty happy they weren’t here today, But I missed Gabi, she was probably sick and her Mom forgot to call my Pa and let him know she wouldn’t be at school today.

Oh bus is here

I hopped onto the bus, making my way to the back where usually all the fifth graders sit, but since I’m in fourth grade and I’m wayy more mature than them I like to think of myself as a fifth grader already. Just need to get taller. 

The bus ride goes without issue, just sitting in the back alone like usual when Gabi is sick I miss her though, at lease with her the other kids interact with me, now they just stare and look disgusted It kinda hurts

While I was getting lost in what little thoughts I have, my bus had pulled into the school driveway thingy where all the buses pull up to drop off children, Getting my bag I shuffled off the bus in a line with the other kids, making my way to Ms. Kimble was your teacher, and she was pretty nice, giving me the support I needed while being treated as a zoo animal almost. A few other kids are nice and even liked to play hunter and deer with me!

Hunter and deer is one of my favorite games, up in my top thirteen with tag and hide and seek, as well as uno and guess the item. But enough about the games I like to play I should explain how you play Hunter and deer.

So basically you need around 3 or 10 people to play, and one of the players is chosen to be the hunter based on what they ate for lunch that day, for example if one of the kids had a ham sandwich and the other kids didn’t have a lot of meat in their lunch the kid who had a ham sandwich would bet the hunter and the rest would be the deer.

I came up with the game with the help of my Auntie.. But if I’m being honest she’s more like a mom to me then an Auntie.. But that's a thought to unpack another day.

”Hey, Sandra, come see. A bear cub and its mother” Auntie said, her voice thick with the slavic accent she had but wouldn’t admit to. I crawled onto her lap to look through the binoculars.

”Bears are so cool Auntie, just like you!”  I said happily, looking up at my Auntie.. My hero, and she looked down at me with a love in her eyes that could only be described as parental love.. Which was weird because she was just my Auntie.. But she was a mom to me.. I love my Auntie 

”Hey Auntie, promise you’ll never leave me?” I asked, as I turned around to hug her, wanting more of the love I never got from my mom.. She was barely my mom.. No.. Auntie was my mom

”Of course I’ll never leave you, Child” My auntie spoke with such kindness. I believed her, I believed her when she embraced me and pet my hair, I believed her when she promised me.. Because Auntie wouldn’t break her promises.. right?

It was lunch time now, and I was jolted awake from that sweet yet sad memory by my friend Shasha. He was one of my good friends that would play Uno with me and Gabi when we had indoor recess.  

“Alek, you alright? Another nightmare?” Shasha’s kind voice broke through my thoughts, making me re-focus on what I was doing.

“No, No, just tired that’s all, Pa and Mom were fighting all night and you know how they are” the embarrassment was evident by the fact I was playing thumb wars with myself, which I like to think is pretty impressive but my friends think it’s a tad weird.

“Anyone else gonna play with us?” I inquired, opening my lunch box to look at the food my Pa packed, my stomach gurgling uncomfortably.

“The others are buying lunch” Sasha spoke, opening his own lunch box and then grinning at me.

I hummed at his answer, choosing to ignore the concerningly large grin he had on his face before a smile ghosted my face as I saw kielbasa and pierogies.. MAC AN CHEESE I couldn’t believe it, not only had my Pa packed pretty much all of my favorite snacks and he managed to perform some sort of magic to keep them all warm for lunch..

Soon the others came to the lunch table, Cheyenne, Jude, and Jack, they were all siblings, well, technically they were triplets. Their poor mother.

“Sorry we’re late, Dad forgot to pack our lunches again” Cheyenne spoke first sitting down next to me with her brothers following suit, Jack sitting next to her and Jude sitting next to Sasha. 

“It is fine friends” Sasha reassured “Who should be Hunter this time?” He followed up with a question, taking a few bites from his pasta, That pasta looks yummy

“I dunno, Alek, have you gotten a turn to be the hunter this week?” Jude asked, turning the attention to me, I didn’t mind though.

“I don’t think I have” I said, pursing my lips before deciding to ask another question. “Anyone else wanna be the Hunter?” The silence that followed told me all that I needed to know.

I was the hunter this time.

@samaraxmorgan

[tarotoftheendless]

Hey... So, yeah, my Waiting for Forever fanfic has been on hiatus... I do plan on continuing to write it, just life stuff has come up, same with just crippling depression.

I have plans for my Waiting for Forever fanfic, so it will come, just slowly, sadly... I love Willie too much to abandon him.

I also have had some other great ideas for fanfics that I both would either like to write myself or allow someone else to write with some input from me on the idea. Most of the ideas for fanfics I have are things I would love to read myself, so...

Of course all my ideas are Tom Sturridge related... Here are some of my ideas for fanfics... If you want to write it yourself, just please reach out to me and ask me what my full idea was and maybe give me a bit of credit for helping to come up with it, that's all I ask if you are gonna write before I have the chance to.

Tom Sturridge fanfic Ideas:

Nathan from 'Skin'. It's an 11 minute short film that showcases how amazing Tom is as an actor. He gives so much to this performance, I was floored.

What we were able to get from the story is that he is grieving the death of his husband. Well, I am assuming Daniel, that's the man's name that Nathan was with, was his husband considering it seemed like it was more than just boyfriends.

The AI voice never states what Company that Nathan works for, so I have been calling it The Company... Which started to sound ominous in my head. It could be a tech company, but it could also be a company with illuminati levels of influence...

My idea, vaguely, was that after the stunt that Nathan pulls to manipulate the AI into playing a recording of his husband's voice, The Company makes him agree to a Live-In Companion, much like a Companion from Firefly but less just a one and done. And in my mind Nathan is bisexual. He agrees, but chooses a female companion.

She is to stay with him for three months, helping him with whatever he needs, like whatever he needs, to help him heal from his grief of losing his husband... So he is work ready again for The Company. If he fails to become work ready in that time or if he does not sign the documentation to start the process, The Company will terminate him and take him to court over the stunt he pulled.

I have so many ideas for this, all of them very thriller sci-fi conspiracy and action, with smut of course thrown in there. Like what if The Company gave Nathan's husband the cancer he ultimately died of? Why? For what reason? Juicy shit my guys, juicy shit.

I wish I could write this myself... And maybe I will... Unless someone else likes it so much to collab with me on it?

Anyway, next idea....

Jake. Jakey. Baby Jakey. Sweetbitter.

So, I had a thought awhile ago that Jake would be great with a roller derby chick... But then I thought maybe he would be great with a professional dancer... Like all styles of dance. She has spent her life training in dance. And she moves into the apartment next door to Jake's place. No new hire at the restaurant bullshit. She is removed from it because that is what Jake needs in a relationship. Something separate from the restaurant.

I had the thought that she was hired to be the choreography coordinator at Broadway, so, she is a career driven woman, something I think Jake needs. Vision. And I think this dancer OC would help him see that he is a good enough photographer to actually pursue that as a career.

Like what if she shows her boss at Broadway his work and her boss wants to hire him for a fuck ton of money to shoot dress rehearsal and opening night, where his photos will be chosen for an article on the play in The New York Times, who is looking for a new journalist photographer. Like it could be life changing.

I had the thought that the play would be the musical Moulin Rouge...

And yeah, Jake will be Jake about it, self-doubt, the Simone of it all. But I think it could work. Giving Jake a partner that believes in him and wants him to choose something for himself and himself alone just this once.

Anyway... Another idea I have is a parody idea... Of a cross-over of The Great British Baking Show and The Sandman. Like it's a promotional episode of TGBBS for The Sandman.

The actors playing The Endless would do the Signature and Technical as themselves, the actors, but for the Show-Stopper, they are their characters.

It was a funny idea. And I don't know all the actors and characters enough to write it believably, so, someone who does, please write this. I think it would be so fucking funny.

And who would win? Is it just one episode or are they doing multiple to actually get the The Endless that is the star of The Great British Baking Show?

Anyway, those are my ideas for fanfics... And yeah, I still am gonna write my Waiting for Forever fanfic, it's just slow going...

Here's a cute Willie for now 😘

[star-kissed583]

These are just some head cannons that I thought of for the septic egos. While they may change from time to time-These are some of the main one:

Henrik:

National: German/Jewish

Height: 5 ft 10 in (179.9cm)

Gender: He/him

Sexuality: Gay 🏳️‍🌈 homoromantic

Looks:

light brown hair with few gray strikes,

pasty white skin with freckles around cheeks and nose

Icy blue and grey eyes behind round glasses

Has a tattoo sleeve for both arms

Prosthetic left leg from an accident (maybe I’ll right about it

Pretty muscular form but not too muscular. Just enough

Fun random facts:

Lost his leg when he was 10 years old

Was part of wrestling and track team

Everyone knows he’s a ✨nerd✨ but a handsome 🔥nerd🔥

He used to want to be an astronaut…but after his accident he wanted to be a doctor

More probably will be told later😌

Marvin:

Nationality: French/American

Height: 5 ft 7 in (172.31cm)

Gender: He/they/she (Gender-fluid)

Sexuality: Homoromantic Asexual

Looks:

Long wavy, dirty blond hair

Light tan skin with a small mole by his right eye

Almost violet-blue eyes

Piercing on her belly button and ears.

More lean and skinny figure

Random facts:

Basically started their own clothing line

Best friends with Jackie (known since 8 years old)

Sassy bitch that wears makeup and WILL judge your style

An amazing cook (could beat Gordon Ramsey-but not JJ)

Is a survivor of breast cancer (has small tattoo symbol on side)

More to be known later 🤭

Jackie:

Nationality: Netherlands

Height: 6ft 3in (190.5 cm)

Gender: he/him

Sexuality: pansexual panromantic

Looks:

Long enough dark brown hair to tie in man bun

Baby blue eyes

Big bright smile

But more muscles that Henrik

Has scars a some burn marks—Special scar is the chest scars

Random facts)

Did American football in high school

Definitely doesn’t have ADHD

Transgender (born Female and transitioned to male)

Always wanted to be a police officer-but Marvin says he should get a restraining order for his fashion😌

Bad habit of not caring for himself 😬

More added later-

Chase:

Nationality: probably Mexican/American

Height: 5 ft 6.5 in (169cm)

Gender: He/him

Sexuality: bisexual biromantic

Looks:

Super dark brown hair that’s curly

Light brown skin colour

Chocolate brown eyes

A well built enough figure

Birth mark on his side of the neck

Fun facts:

Played soccer and did track and got the legs of steel😎

Best friend is Henrik and both had trouble speaking English at first

Shitty ex, but got some sweet kids who are his entire world

Dad jokes-lots and lots of dad jokes

Stubborn as hell but who’s to stop him 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anti:

Nationality: Irish/Korean

Height: 5ft 7in (170.7cm)

Gender: He/they

Sexuality: BIG GAY

Looks:

Black hair

Pale ass skin

One green eye and the other is blue

Lean figure but don’t let it fool you…they’re stronggg💪🏼

Piercings and the scar on his neck

Fun facts:

Black belt in martial arts

Owns a motorcycle that he treats like his B A B Y

most definitely not the emo one

Probably works as a spy or assassin 🤷🏻‍♀️

A teddy bear if you’re close to them (JJ)

Loves porcelain, antique teacups. Probably has a shit ton in a furniture

JJ:

Nationality: British/Greek

Height: 5 ft 3in (160.02cm)

Gender: they/he

Sexuality: Demisexual and romantic

Looks:

Black hair

Bright teal/green eyes

Pale skin with freckles all over

Has some scars but don’t ask about them

Fun facts:

They’re an Angel. Don’t mess or upset the Angel or everyone is after you…especially Anti

Wears the most bright pastel colours of the group

Does dance, ballet, ice skating-no judging allowed

Super flexible because they used to be in gymnastics when they were young

Best friends with Anti and under his protection.

Depending on what I’m writing-they’re mute, selective or not, or has powers to think his thoughts to others mind, or other exceptions that may happen depending on the story🤷🏻‍♀️

Basically these may change depending on what I write or draw-but these are basically main ideas I had of these egos! They may change or more will be added😌

[hyperfixationhell25]

some One Piece Hcs of mine part 1

some of these are based on others head canons.

post-wano Luffy has white in his hair and I don't mean oh it turned a bit gray no I mean like whole streaks of pure white. this could be caused by his awakening pushing his more nika traits to the surface or because he fucking died and put his body under an crazy amount of stress. maybe a bit of both but I think it would be cool for him to have another visual que of his progress like his big x scar marked a pretty monumental moment for him and the growth he went through because of it.

1.2 I like to think that Luffy has had a bit of red in his eyes that only really shows when his emotions are high this means any emotion not just anger so yeah also its even more noticeable when the sun hits them because duh sun god shit.

1.3 jumping off the white hair bit I think it would be cute for lawlu artists to use that concept because I've seen a lot of art with Law having little patches from amber lead on him and i just think it would be visually appealing even in a platonic way for one its a reminder of the worst time in his life the other a symbol of triumph and rebirth.

2 Ace isn't the biggest fan of spicey food like he still its eat if its there but not something he actively seeks out IDK I just thought it would be funny to have the fire guy not like spicy food.

3 the real reason the WG didn't go apeshit the moment they noticed Luffy had the gomu gomu no mi which lets be real was likely very on, was because it was easier to let him have it so they could keep track of it because its implied that the dam thing kept vanishing every time they tried to get it so they chose to wait not thinking Luffy would be able to awaken it. that untill wano when they realized that he was close to awakening it so the kill order was given welp sucks to be them that just made it worse. XD

4. Nami has a fund set aside purely for sun screen girls a red head out on the open sea she's gotta be using crap ton and she and chopper have to remind everyone to were some. psa of day guys protected yourselves from UV rays doesn't matter what race you over exposer can still lead to skin cancer so be safe.

4.1 quick tip for artists regarding Nami if your going to give her freckles think about where the suns hitting the the most Ive seen some art that just slathers them on across her entire body with zero variation and its like that's not it works. its just a nick pick of mine, I've seen a lot of artist try to give redhead anime characters freckles and does this and as a red head with freckles it just feels looks really off.

5. Izo is the shipper of the whitebeards that man has eye for "esthetic" so you bet he's over in the corner looking at people 'bout ready to play matchmaker. he will also be super supportive if it doesn't pan out well cause he's like that.

[blackwoolncrown]

For the past few days, a heatwave has glowered over the Pacific Northwest, forcing temperatures in the region to a record-breaking 118ºF. Few people in the region—neither Americans nor Canadians—have air-conditioning. Stores sold out of new AC units in hours as a panicked public sought a reasonable solution to the emergency. Unfortunately, air-conditioning is part of what’s causing the unusual heatwave in the first place.

We came close to destroying all life on Earth during the Cold War, with the threat of nuclear annihilation. But we may have come even closer during the cooling war, when the rising number of Americans with air conditioners—and a refrigerant industry that fought regulation—nearly obliterated the ozone layer. We avoided that environmental catastrophe, but the fundamental problem of air conditioning has never really been resolved.

Mechanical cooling appeared in the early 1900s not for comfort but for business. In manufacturing, the regulation of temperature—“process cooling”—controlled the quality of commodities like cotton, tobacco, and chewing gum. In 1903, Alfred Wolff installed the first cooling system for people at the New York Stock Exchange because comfortable traders yielded considerably higher stock returns. Only in the ’20s did “commercial cooling” appear. On Memorial Day weekend 1925, Willis Carrier debuted the first centrifugal air-conditioning system at the Rivoli Theater in Midtown Manhattan. Previously, theaters had shut down in the summer. With air-conditioning, the Rivoli became “the talk of Broadway” and inaugurated the summer blockbuster.

-another direct tie to capitalism. Everything born out of colonio-capitalism carries its toxic mark. Article totally not under the cut for those who can’t pay for Time. It honestly paints a really clear picture of the situation. Bolding mine.-

“It’s time we become more comfortable with discomfort. Our survival may depend on it.“

Before World War II, almost no one had air-conditioning at home. Besides being financially impractical and culturally odd, it was also dangerous. Chemical refrigerants like sulfur dioxide and methyl chloride filled most fridges and coolers, and leaks could kill a child, poison a hospital floor, even blow up a basement. Everything changed with the invention of Freon in 1928. Non-toxic and non-explosive, Freon was hailed as a “miracle.” It made the modernist skyscraper—with its sealed windows and heat-absorbing materials—possible. It made living in the desert possible. The small, winter resort of Phoenix, Arizona, became a year-round attraction. Architecture could now ignore the local climate. Anywhere could be 65ºF with 55% humidity. Cheap materials made boxy, suburban tract housing affordable to most Americans, but the sealed-up, stifling design of these homes required air-conditioning to keep the heat at bay. Quickly, air-conditioning transitioned from a luxury to a necessity. By 1980, more than half of all U.S. homes were air-conditioned. And despite millions of Black Americans fleeing the violence of Jim Crow, the South saw greater in-migration than out-migration for the first time—a direct result of AC. The American car was similarly transformed. In 1955, only 10 percent of American cars had air-conditioning. Thirty years later, it came standard.

The cooling boom also altered the way we work. Now, Americans could work anywhere at any hour of the day. Early ads for air-conditioning promised not health or comfort but productivity. The workday could proceed no matter the season or the climate. Even in the home, A/C brought comfort as a means to rest up before the next work day.

The use of air-conditioning was as symbolic as it was material. It conveyed class status. Who did and didn’t have air-conditioning often fell starkly along the color line, too, especially in the South. It conquered the weather and, with it, the need to sweat or squirm or lie down in the summer swelter. In that sense, air-conditioning allowed Americans to transcend their physical bodies, that long-sought fantasy of the Puritan settlers: to be in the world but not of it. Miracle, indeed.

But it came with a price. As it turned out, Freon isn’t exactly non-toxic. Freon is a chlorofluorocarbon (CFC), which depletes the ozone layer and also acts as a global warming gas. By 1974, the industrialized world was churning out CFCs, chemicals that had never appeared on the planet in any significant quantities, at a rate of one million metric tons a year—the equivalent mass of more than 500,000 cars. That was the year atmospheric chemists Sherry Rowland and Mario Molina first hypothesized that the chlorine molecules in CFCs might be destroying ozone in the stratosphere by bonding to free oxygen atoms and disrupting the atmosphere’s delicate chemistry. By then, CFCs were used not only as refrigerants but also as spray can propellants, manufacturing degreasers, and foam-blowing agents.

The ozone layer absorbs the worst of the sun’s ultraviolet radiation. Without stratospheric ozone, life as we know it is impossible. A 1 percent decline in the ozone layer’s thickness results in thousands of new cases of skin cancer. Greater depletion would lead to crop failures, the collapse of oceanic food systems, and, eventually, the destruction of all life on Earth.

In the 1980s, geophysicist Joseph Farman confirmed the Rowland-Molina hypothesis when he detected a near-absence of ozone over Antarctica—the “Ozone Hole.” A fierce battle ensued among industry, scientists, environmentalists, and politicians, but in 1987 the U.S signed the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer, which ended Freon production.

The Montreal Protocol remains the world’s only successful international environmental treaty with legally binding emissions targets. Annual conferences to re-assess the goals of the treaty make it a living document, which is revised in light of up-to-date scientific data. For instance, the Montreal Protocol set out only to slow production of CFCs, but, by 1997, industrialized countries had stopped production entirely, far sooner than was thought possible. The world was saved through global cooperation.

The trouble is that the refrigerants replacing CFCs, hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), turned out to be terrible for the planet, too. While they have an ozone-depleting potential of zero, they are potent greenhouse gases. They absorb infrared radiation from the sun and Earth and block heat that normally escapes into outer space. Carbon dioxide and methane do this too, but HFCs trap heat at rates thousands of times higher. Although the number of refrigerant molecules in the atmosphere is far fewer than those of other greenhouse gases, their destructive force, molecule for molecule, is far greater.

In three decades, the production of HFCs grew exponentially. Today, HFCs provide the cooling power to almost any air conditioner in the home, in the office, in the supermarket, or in the car. They cool vaccines, blood for transfusions, and temperature-sensitive medications, as well as the data processors and computer servers that make up the internet—everything from the cloud to blockchains. In 2019, annual global warming emissions from HFCs were the equivalent of 175 million metric tons of carbon dioxide.

In May, the EPA signaled it will begin phasing down HFCs and replacing them with more climate-friendly alternatives. Experts agree that a swift end to HFCs could prevent as much as 0.5ºC of warming over the next century—a third of the way to the goals of the Paris Climate Agreement.

Yet regardless of the refrigerant used, cooling still requires energy. According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, air-conditioning accounts for nearly a fifth of annual U.S. residential electricity use. This is more energy for cooling overall and per capita than in any other nation. Most Americans consider the cost of energy only in terms of their electricity bills. But it’s also costing us the planet. Joe Biden’s announcement to shift toward a renewable energy infrastructure obscures the uncertainty of whether that infrastructure could meet Americans’ outrageously high energy demand—much of it for cooling that doesn’t save lives. Renewable energy infrastructure can take us only so far. The rest of the work is cultural. From Freon to HFCs, we keep replacing chemical refrigerants without taking a hard look at why we’re cooling in the first place.

Comfort cooling began not as a survival strategy but as a business venture. It still carries all those symbolic meanings, though its currency now works globally, cleaving the world into civilized cooling and barbaric heat. Despite what we assume, as a means of weathering a heat wave, individual air-conditioning is terribly ineffective. It works only for those who can afford it. But even then, their use in urban areas only makes the surrounding micro-climate hotter, sometimes by a factor of 10ºF, actively threatening the lives of those who don’t have access to cooling. (The sociologist Eric Klinenberg has brilliantly studied how, in a 1995 Chicago heat wave, about twice as many people died than in a comparable heat wave forty years earlier due to the city’s neglect of certain neighborhoods and social infrastructure.) Ironically, research suggests that exposure to constant air-conditioning can prevent our bodies from acclimatizing to hot weather, so those who subject themselves to “thermal monotony” are, in the end, making themselves more vulnerable to heat-related illness.

And, of course, air-conditioning only works when you have the electricity to power it. During heatwaves, when air-conditioning is needed most, blackouts are frequent. On Sunday, with afternoon temperatures reaching 112ºF around Portland, the power grid failed for more than 6,300 residences under control by Portland General Electrics.

The troubled history of air-conditioning suggests not that we chuck it entirely but that we focus on public cooling, on public comfort, rather than individual cooling, on individual comfort. Ensuring that the most vulnerable among the planet’s human inhabitants can keep cool through better access to public cooling centers, shade-giving trees, safe green spaces, water infrastructure to cool, and smart design will not only enrich our cities overall, it will lower the temperature for everyone. It’s far more efficient this way.

To do so, we’ll have to re-orient ourselves to the meaning of air-conditioning. And to comfort. Privatized air-conditioning survived the ozone crisis, but its power to separate—by class, by race, by nation, by ability—has survived, too. Comfort for some comes at the expense of the life on this planet.

It’s time we become more comfortable with discomfort. Our survival may depend on it.

[wack-ashimself]

I will never trust hand sanitizers or sunscreen...

sunscreen simply because I have known very few people who got any kind of skin cancer because they never used sunscreen* (think of all the natives, indigenous people, mormons, etc)...

but I've read about of tons of people who used sunscreen religiously and MIRACULOUSLY still super got skin cancer...

And hand sanitizer...cuz it not only dries out your hands, but because of what happened yesterday.

Went to a fair. Petting zoo. Of course I pet the buddies. But they were messy (and been petted by a LOT of people. Wouldn't that be a weird life: Traveling as an animal just so strangers could feed & pet you?), so I used hand sanitizer (3 times. I do not want to exaggerate to make a point. I used more than I normally do. Fairly, now that I think about it, 2-3 more times in the bathroom).

I ate my food, with my bare hands. I hugged my parents with my bare hands. Etc.

And I thought nothing of it...till I got home.

I went to the bathroom, and the first time since before I left for the fair, I washed with soap and water.

I had to wash my hands THREE TIMES to get all of that shit off. It was layered and slimy under the soap and water.

Shouldn't of it worn off, absorbed into the skin, or evaporated?

I ATE MY FOOD WITH THAT SHIT COVERING MY HANDS!

I'm just saying, historically, most science validating these things is controlled (or censored) by the rich and they have never, nor ever will, have your best intentions.

YOU DO NOT GET RICH BEING THE GOOD GUY TELLING THE TRUTH!

(trust me, my broke ass knows).

*my dad worked as a lineman for....30 years? 35? A long time. In the sun EVERY day it was sunny. As far as I know, he only used the stuff occasionally on his face. Retired, he's outside 80% of the time (my mom's own words). Shorts, short sleeved shirt, etc. He's healthy as a horse overall. Only cancer he got was ball cancer (and I think that was from working next to huge conductors and electrical circuits right next to his balls).

[starknightgirl]

MCCR Red Rabbits Skins!

I love how much the MCC Rising participants love MCC. If this is the first MCC post of mine you’ve seen, hi! Usually I make CaptainSparklez team skins for the canon MCCs (see here for the latest, the MCC17 Aqua Axolotls), though I have made other teams on very rare occasions (see MCC16 Sapphire Simmers). This is one such occasion. Feel free to share this, just tag this post so that it links back to me. Thank you! Ok, more below the cut.

I’m using my reddit username as the signature, don’t worry I’m not stealing from anyone. 

You know, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going make MCC Rising skins. I thought, surely there’s no way I’ll find a team I like so much I’ll want to make skins for them. So I was wrong. I actually found the Red Rabbits through KingOfArchers (whom I picked from the announcement as my MCCR pov). I do like all of them, though. No, I did not watch all of Yoshinom’s PK Warrior streams. But I did watch a few hours of them!

Yoshinom loved the Aqua Axolotls cute hats (and I agree, they were adorable). So I thought his team should get cute rabbits. It took a little fiddling but I think I managed to make a pretty cute rabbit design. They’re wearing crowns because I wanted KingOfArchers to still be wearing a crown. So now they all have crowns!

The awkward angle on the photo this time comes from me trying to make it more visible. I promise they are very cute on the actual skins. And then of course I had to pair them with cute hoodies. And yes, I promise my standard mascot is on the back. Bigger this time because it looks better. Oh and they all have the Technoblade cancer support ribbons. 

Alright, now for the individual breakdowns.

Starting with Yoshinom. He’s got his kerchief still, but other than that, I pretty much took apart his entire skin. Well, his boots and belt are based upon what was already there. But in red. Lots of red. The stripes aren’t really a reference to anything but they look cool. Oh and he’s got a bigger rabbit hat because it fits his skin (more on that later though).

Next up, KingOfArchers, who specified that she should not look like anime Technoblade. I hope this works as not anime Technoblade? I had to cut her hair shorter to fit the rabbit. Also the fur trim (which is now red) is a bit shorter. I’m really glad the arm cuffs look the same as her regular skin though, I really wanted to capture that part of her look.

Mejoraas’ skin is very cool, but also a pain to work with. I wanted the fragments to fit the clothing, so that meant a ton more work for me. I don’t have the location on the 3d model memorized to the 2d map, so figuring out which parts needed to be copied over to the fragments was a pain. Also. Shortening that mask while still making it read as the same mask? That was hard too. Which is why Mejoraas and Nicacolas both have shortened hats. Fun fact, though, the checkers on the sleeves is meant to evoke Mejoraas’ regular skin.

And finally, Nicacolas, who’s name I can never write correctly first try. First of all, had to keep the L’manberg flag. I don’t watch dream smp but even I know that’s a truly important part of the skin. Also, like usual, I flipped the tail down so that I could put the rabbit on the back. Also kept the scarf because that’s an integral part of the skin. Finally, the pants is designed to be a jumpsuit tied at the waist because of Nicacolas’ aviator theme. Since I removed the very cute bomber jacket and all.

Here’s all the skins in case you want them yourself. 

[horrorslashergirl]

May I request another part of Another chance to start off?

Chromeskull x Reader- Another chance to start off Part 4

Authors Note: This oneshot that turned into a story. I almost forgot about it. Also adding some Jesse Childhood Ideas because why not? 

Warnings: 18+ because of childhood abuse and disturbing themes about little Jesse

Words: 1.7k

Part 1 here 

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

It's been two months and you still haven't heard anything from your so-called 'hero' other than the fact that he was on business as his assistant, Spann, called it. That left you to take care of your baby, but still no ability to go out of his place, save for the huge lawn around the palatial villa that you now resided in.

You didn't know anything about this man, and Spann refused to give you any details because it wasn't her place to spoke of such personal details, and according to her, it was his business to tell you, leaving you with tons of question about Jesse, at last, you knew his name.

Considering how much of a serious and sophisticated security system he had, you could only guess he was an important man. You took liberties when your little buddle of joy was sleeping to explore the villa. You agreed that his favorite colors were black, white, and accents of silver chrome and he definitely had an affiliation with skulls, and he had very expensive tastes in everything down from his cars to his clothes to the smallest things.

You were currently sitting on an armchair next to the crib of your baby waiting for your daughter to wake up and feed her.

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

Jesse Cromeans had a lot of issues and as big as his 6'7 tall frame he was a handful package; a bad temper, certain sadistic urges, a sassy attitude that made tons of enemies, not like any of them dared to go against him, but little people to probably none knew the whole story behind who he truly was.

One who was very observant could possibly tell that Jesse had mommy issues, considering his victims were all female, save for the brown-nosing males that were just collateral victims.

As a little boy, he was very shy, and his muteness didn't help him either. His family was always a mystery to most who knew him, but none dared to ask him about his relatives, not like in the present he had any. He didn't know his father, and he was always curious as a little boy about who his daddy was.

His mother, from the remaining memories, was a very beautiful woman, giving birth at a young age of twenties to little Jesse. His father didn't want to take the responsibility of raising a child, especially a disabled one, so he pretty much vanished after his mother gave birth to Jesse.

She was still young and clueless about raising a child, alas she took the responsibility and tried, for three years until she was diagnosed with bone cancer. Young mother at the flower of age with such a severe form of cancer was definitely a nightmare and it only persisted until Jesse was six and she died, leaving him to what he knew was the grandfather of his own daddy.

When Jesse asked his grandfather about his dad, the old man simply said that he shouldn't worry about dead bodies like that. His grandfather was a mortician, owning a funeral home company, that left Jesse with spending most of his time there, with the corpses. At first, he was just playing in the hallways, until he got curious and walked into a room, his brown innocent eyes widening at the scene.

That really scarred his mind, his grandfather on top of a dead woman's body...

It only turned worse when his legal guardian, his grandfather getting the full rights of raising Jesse, indulged the little boy into these activities; the first body being that of his own mother.

That not scarred his mind, it destroyed his psychical health.

That was the start of creating a beast, the beast he was today.

Probably that's why he was drawn to you; you were much younger than he was. What you didn't knew was that ever since you were brought to his place you have been monitored day and night. He loved to watch you nurture your baby, take care of the little human that was made of purity and innocence.

He kind of felt jealous in a way, because he wanted the same affection.

Definitely mommy issues.

Who could really blame him? He didn't exactly have a woman type to look up at, and girls were definitely a subject that was tough for him. In his teen years, girls were looking more up to the loud, obnoxious, and confident ones.

Since he started hitting puberty, he grew in height, and grew, and grew. He was a tall and lanky kind of guy, perhaps very awkward, but very intelligent, despite not getting credit for it.

With girls it was a different story, they didn't have the patience with him and his signing. His teenage years were full of nicknames because of his height, girls making fun of him, teasing him, but not in the cute kind way. He slowly started to realize why his grandfather had certain tastes in...women.

If they are dead, they cannot hurt you. Simple.

Still, from time to time he had that starving for affection, someone to be genuinely there for him.

He remembered after he finished high school...He left his hometown and after years of college and slowly but successfully starting his own business, he changed. The lanky and awkward guy bloomed into a ferocious and manipulative mastermind; pale skin by each year filled with more ink, muscles filling his lanky figure.

Jesse changed.

At first, it felt weird to have such control, but once he got that taste, he never wanted to let it go.

Back in the present days, Jesse didn't know what to think of you; he was probably pitying you, although that was highly unlike him. He pities none but seeing you watch over your offspring like a protective mother made his heartbeat in a way he didn't know it was possible.

He took a sip of his whiskey as he looked at the computer screen; tomorrow he will get back home to you and perhaps get to an arrangement, after all, you were wearing his family name.

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

It was morning, but you were awake for three hours, now you just finished feeding your daughter and she closed her eyes; after all, it was still the period of the baby that she needed more sleep than an adult, so you tucked her in, smiling at her angelic face.

You heard the door slightly open and turned around, expecting Spann, but you were surprised to see Jesse, your eyes quickly turning into a slight glare, getting in front of the baby's crib like a shielding mother lion.

Jesse found many things attractive on a female, but this was definitely something that triggered a more primal part of his male instincts. There was just something mesmerizing about a mother that protects her baby.

He pulled out his phone to type.

'We need to talk.' the electronic voice spoke, making you furrow your brows.

Despite wanting to give him a piece of your mind, you learned from your past relationship, if you could call it that, that yelling and throwing tantrums won't solve a problem, so you nodded, taking a glance at your baby, not exactly feeling like leaving.

'Spann will look over her while we discuss.' he spoke through the phone.

You followed him downstairs to his study, opening the door for you to enter then closing it to have privacy. You sat down on one of the armchairs in front of his desk, while he took his designated place behind the huge black desk.

'I know things have been inconvenient.'

You snorted at that.

"More like very chaotic. Look...I am very mad by this whole kidnapping-owning thing, but I also knew I should be grateful to you for saving me from my now dead abusive husband, which reminds me....You killed him...and it didn't look like it was your first time." you spoke in a firm voice.

Jesse smirked at that. Smart one...That's good.

'Then I should probably let you know everything.'

He began to explain everything, down from his facade chroming business to the real deal of the organization, everything about killing, snuff films, and piggies. It was like someone was telling you a horror story, leaving you shocked and disgusted.

"Great....so basically now I am involved in a mafia kind of thing." you sarcastically said, rubbing your forehead in exasperation.

'You can take it like that.' He waved it off, shrugging.

You sighed, then looked at him.

"What will happen to me?" you asked, pursing your lips into a thin line.

'Nothing. If I wanted you dead, you would have been from that night we meet.'

"That really relaxes me." you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

'I will protect you and your daughter.'

That surprised you. Why was he so willing to help a woman he barely knew and her baby? You tried to find an answer yourself but decided to ask him and his answer was ever more so intriguing you.

'No child deserves to grow without parents.'

He looked like he knew what he meant, perhaps he went through the same ordeal, without family, but it was too early to ask him such sensitive topics since you didn't know each other that good.

"So, you basically want me as your wife?" you asked in amusement, but his look showed that he was serious.

'I'm not forcing you. It's your choice.'

You huffed then decided.

"Probably too early...Can I, at last, get to know my future husband?" you asked, sassiness dripping from your voice, but behind it, it was sincerity.

Jesse was to say it, surprised by your words, and couldn't help but give you a toothy grin. He got up from his chair and walked towards you. You got up as well and were a little nervous when he was just inches away from you, his fingers typing on his phone.

'Tonight. Dinner. Spann will babysit your daughter. You need some quality time.'

You thought a little about it and decided that everyone deserved a chance to start off.

"Yes. I would like that."

Jesse smirked in victory and leaned down to kiss you, only for your index finger to press gently against his scarred lips.

"Don't push your luck." you said with a cheeky smile, making him chuckle silently.

Yes, indeed everyone deserved another chance to start off.

[oksana-moods]

Ghost of you - Part 9

Summary: Ghost realizes that, no matter how hard she tries, she can't run away from her past. When Carol's presence do more harm than good, the only way to come clean is to take a dive. A/N: Thank you again for all the support, and to let you know that we reached the point where things start to change. Starting for the song theme. Now we’ll go with ‘Writings on the wall’ from Sam Smith. We’re halfway through, lovelies. Trigger Warnings: Violence, language (a bit too much, I believe), mentions of death… if you find others, let me know. Oh, sort of WandaVision spoiler. Angst. “I've spent a lifetime running, and I always get away”

With my hands involuntarily clutching the tag, I’m sitting at the roof watching the sun slowly but inexorably going down in the horizon. Once, I heard that this is what life feels like. We born just like the sun raises, we reach our greatest point then we start to set till night embraces us. Death, just like the sunset, is inevitable. I find myself agreeing with this metaphor.

It’s been a few months since our futile attempt to overturn Thanos’s snap. And now, each one of us went different ways to try to cope with this catastrophe.

Steve, Natasha and I were still living at the compound we had nowhere else to go so we’re pretending that we were taking care of things, that we’re moving on.

Tony and Pepper are about to get married and, honestly, I hope they find happiness. While Bruce went missing again, Thor went to New Asgard, he lost everything but still had a Realm to rule; Rhodey was working for the Government in a high position, or so I heard. Wakanda lost all the royal family but Okoye was holding on, as best as she could. Rocket and Nebula stayed a bit but returned to space with promises of visiting whenever they could.

Oddly, the logo ‘Avengers’ was scattered all over the universe. We were broken, but we would still protect whom needed protection.

And there is The Avenger, the original one. Carol barely touched the ground coming back from Garden and took-off claiming she needed to check on Skrulls. Not even three weeks later she was back, and that caught me off guard. I’ve never expected for her to return, not that quickly, at least.

She’s been trying to talk to me, but I dodged all of her attempts.

Until now.

 “Hey, Mav.” I close my eyes when her voice reaches my ears. “The view from here is amazing.”

I was sitting at the edge of the roof and Carol was leaning with her elbows at the rampart.

“Yes. It is.” I answer. “What do you want, Carol?” We both know she’s not here for the view.

“To talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I got up from my seat, I’m standing in the roof starting to make my way to the door. I flinch away when her hand touches my metal arm. I shoot an outrageous look at her.

“Please.” Her eyes are so soft against my gaze that something inside me stirs. “You’ve been avoiding me. Natasha told me that you lost most part of your memories.” Her brows are so furrowed that is clear she’s upset. Why is she? I turn away from her, I’m looking at the horizon once more. Her gaze was too overwhelming, right now.

“What do you want to know?” I shove my hands inside my pockets. Damn, why am I so nervous? “Most of my memories are gone. The last four years is all I have without gaps. Wanda…” I close my eyes, still hurts to think about her. I think it always will. “She helped me to unbury whatever she could.” I saw Carol leaning at the rampart. She was trying to get closer, but I needed distance.

“I crashed after your crash.” She nodded, of course she knew this. “Whatever happened to you with the tesseract, spattered in me too. That’s why I haven’t changed, just like you.” I could feel my hands shaking inside my pockets, I was uneasy. Something about her was pulling me to the edge.

“But, what about…” She hesitated “What about your arm?”  Why is she pretending to be concerned? She’s getting under my skin and I’m feeling cornered. So, I do what every cornered animal do. They attack.

“Will you fucking stop beating the bush? Ask me what you fucking want to ask.” Oh and so she did, she was exasperated with me acting like an idiot. What was she expecting?

“I came to earth around 2007. I went to Maria’s and she told me you were at war but never make it back. I… I saw your stone. I… I…” She ran a hand through her hair. “I thought you were dead.” Her voice was a whisper but that made something burst inside me. I grieved her, even when I knew she was alive. She chose to go away and wanna play the broken-hearted role?

“You and me both!” My voice was harsh and loud, but I wasn’t yelling yet. Yet. “What do you expect me to say, huh? That I am sorry someone lied to you? That I am sorry you were sad?” The setting sun illuminating her face, making her look gorgeous than ever, made me hate her even more. “Well, news flash for you, hon. YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE! I still see you die every time I fucking close my eyes.” I yelled. I couldn’t take this anymore. “I SAW YOU DIE OVER AND OVER AND OVER.” Her eyes were glossy, there was something shining inside them that I couldn’t decipher. And, Fuck. It hurt so bad. They hurt me so bad. She hurt me.

“I… Lara, I am so, so sorry they did this to you” She whispered again. She didn’t want to fight, but all I know is fight. And I only stop when I see blood.

“When I was taken by Hydra, they made me watch you die, they made me watch you leaving." My voice was low and hard, this time. "So no, I can’t stand this. Hydra took everything from me. They beat me and oh, they hit me hard. They cut off every single piece of me, and they put me through hell. But you Carol, you broke me first.”

I turned in my heels and left the roof. Each step my feet tried to betray me, make me to look back, but I kept going til reach the door. I knew I was far too harsh, my words probably cut her, but if she was bleeding so was I.

 -----------------

 Days went by and I didn’t see Carol since that day in the roof. Steve told me she took a room for her at the compound, she’d be staying a bit longer. Of course she is. Like I didn’t have a lot to deal with already. Since there weren’t any assignments going on, all the workout in the world couldn’t help to ease my mind. Or heart.

  I park my motorcycle at the parking lot and pick up the flowers from inside my jacket. I check it to see if they still look good. I shrug, they’re good enough.

I walked inside the Hospital and expertly made my way to my friend’s room. It pained me to know she was sick, but she was too strong to give in that easy to cancer. She was a fighter. She inspired me. If she could go on even with her decease and losing her child, so could I.

“Buying flowers became a struggle nowadays.” I said with a smile.

Her smile lit up the whole room. “Good thing you’re not going out on dates, then.” My laugh filed the room.

“Please Maria, you’re too old to be that sassy.”

“You’re just as old as I am. The difference is just that you still look good.”

“You still look good, Ma. I’d take you out on a date.” And it was true, she was around her sixties but still look beautiful. Few lines near the eyes, but only complimented her.

“Awn, you flatter me” She put a hand on her chest, faking innocence. “I don’t go out with women, hon. But I’d definitely accept the invitation, I’m craving real food, not whatever this hospital calls food.” Instantly, this blows the air out of my lungs and I’m forced to face reality. My friends are gone and soon, Maria will be gone too. Carol told me once that her biggest fear was to bury all her friends. Fuck. I understand what she meant now.

“Geez, Mav. It was only a joke. Next time, don’t bring me flowers unless you’re bringing fries too.”

I forced a smile at her.

After the whole ordeal with the ‘Accords’ I was arrested alongside Clint, Scott and Sam. Cap came and rescued us, but I went on the road since I was an outlaw too, so my visits to Maria and Monica stopped despite keeping in touch. I wouldn’t forgive myself for the time I lost.

“Carol came to visit me yesterday.” That’s the Maria I came to know, never holding back her words. “Apparently, you’ve been giving her a hard time.”

“Oh. Did she come to cry on your shoulder?” Every time Carol’s name was brought up, I felt my brain short-circuiting. I don’t know why, but I hated it.

“Naa. I was just gossiping around, I’m an old lady, after all.” She laughed lighting up the mood. “Does it feel better to yell, to be a bitch with her?”

“What?”

“C’mon, Mav. You changed a lot, but I can still see through you. You need to vent whatever is stuck in your chest; you need to put it out.” I was frowning at the floor. “That’s the only way both of you will move on.”

“I hate her, Maria. Seeing her makes me feel like my wounds are cutting open once again. I don’t see how we can move past this, how I can forgive her.”

“If that’s true,” She pointed at my chest, and I knew what she was going to say. “Why do you still wear her tag and yours together?” All of a sudden, the Tag was heavy in my chest. Tons and tons of unspoken words, feelings, and pain weighting too much.

“I… I don’t know. It kinda feels right.” God, I’m so confused. Is it possible to be friends with Carol Danvers again? Will I, one day, forget everything Hydra made me feel with those memories? I wonder if that hopeless feeling will ever go away. Because right now, all I can think of is that, at any moment, she’ll turn her back on me or she’ll die. It’s hard to look at someone expecting, waiting for the pain that usually comes with their face.

“I know it does.” And she changed her tone to her bossy one. “So, stop acting like you have a stick shoved inside your ass and talk to her. Promise me you will.”

“All right. I promise.” I answered, it was no use try to avoid this. Maria wouldn’t drop this.

“That’s better.” She had that look like she knew that I’d comply with her request.

“Doesn’t upset you? That she left and forgot about us?” I was looking out of the window, looking at the cars outside, people were, slowly, trying to find their bearings. Trying to figure out what should be normal now. They were trying. Should I try, too?

Maria’s voice made me look at her when she replied. “It used to hurt, yes. But I’m dying, Mav, I don’t have time or patience to fight anymore.”

 After Maria scolded me enough for not talking to Carol, our conversation was lighter. She complained about the overprotective nurse, she complained that tv never had good things to watch, gossiped about other patients, and when I said my goodbyes, she made me promise to sneak some food for my next visit.

However, all the way home I kept overthinking these things I’ve been building up inside me. Something about Carol made me uneasy, like I’m exposed in a field filled with enemies, with nowhere to hide. And I don’t like it on bit. There’s something about her eyes, and I hate the intensity in them when she looks at me, it’s like they can pierce your soul, see what’s underneath… And I’m way too afraid of all the terrors that she might discover. I’m not Lara anymore, I’m not who she thinks I am, no. I’m someone else.

 -----------

 “You stole my spot.” I said as I reached the roof. The woman who I was addressing to, turned her head to look at me.

She was wearing a simple jeans with a blue t-shirt and her hair was framing her flawless face, how this woman could be so beautiful even with so common clothes was beyond me.

She gave me a tide smile that never reached her eyes, they were somewhat tired.

“Oh. It wasn’t my intention; I’ll leave you to be.”  Yes please, leave me alone. I thought to me myself, but then my conversation with Maria from last week came to my mind. Fuck. I hate making promises. She was preparing to leave when I spoke.

“There’s room enough for both of us, though.” I said with a shrug, pretending that I was okay with her company, pretending that I wasn’t uncomfortable with this proximity. Her head snapped at me, she looked at me like I had grown two heads.

“Okay.” Her voice was so soft that immediately put me on edge. I felt exposed again. What was happening with me?

 We stayed there for a while with a heavy silence between us. The tension was so thick that I’m sure we couldn’t move, that’s probably why none of us left the roof yet. There was a sea of unspoken words and as much as I hated it, we couldn’t ignore this anymore. If she’s going to stay, we’ll have to dive into this. We’ll have to work together at some point, this wouldn’t be healthy during even the simplest mission.

“You know, I’ve been in a lot of places, but none of them had such a beautiful sunset.” Her voice startled me; I wasn’t expecting at all.

“Well, it does have something peaceful, doesn’t it?” She seemed to ponder what I just said.

“One may say that this might be a spell. That there are a lot of beautiful places out there, but nothing compares to home.”

“Is it?”

“What?” She looked at me, confusion written all over her face.

“Is Earth you home?” At this, she frowned.

“Look, I know what you’re implying. I… I don’t know how much you remember from… before.” She seemed nervous. “What do you recall?”

And that’s it. There’s no turning back now, I needed to dive into this sea and hopefully I’ll reach the other side alive.

I looked forward; eyes set at the setting sun. I couldn’t deal with this and look at her at the same time. My hands started to shake so I wriggle them together to stop them, somehow.

“I remember us.” I felt a pang in my chest. Shit. What is this? “I remember you were always going back and forth to Earth. I remember when you went for good, ‘we’re too good at goodbyes’, yeah?!”

She signed heavily. “While helping Talos, I realized that a lot of people needed help. I wanted to stay, but I just couldn’t ignore innocent people dying.”

“People were dying here too.” She was frustrated, she threw her arms around impatient, but I continued before she could speak. “I know, I know you wanted to bring peace to whoever you could. And Earth already had its saviors.”  

“It’s not just like that, I…” She turned to fully look at me. “After I found out about your… death,” She struggled with the word, it fell heavily from her tongue. “I felt so helpless, so stupid for wasting away the time I could’ve had with you, I…” She was staring at me, eyes locked, and I felt myself being dragged inside. “I couldn’t forgive myself for loosing you for good.” She half whispered as if afraid of this becoming true. Like I could turn into a mirage, out of blue.

She was diving in the sea of what was left unsaid too, there’s no going back. “And when you died, part of me died too. Then Earth wasn’t home without you on it anymore, that’s why I never came back after. But then I received Fury’s emergency call, only to learn about Thanos… only to find out that you were alive this whole time.” Her eyes were glowing with such intensity, that my feet were glued to the ground. I felt a hand wrapping around mine. “I wanted to come back, back then. After I went through your door, I regretted at the very same instant, Lara.” Her voice was so soft when she spoke my name, it was like her tongue was made of velvet and it took the air out of my lungs. “After all, I wanted… I wanted so damn hard to be happy… with you. But I couldn’t find my way back, it didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’d only do more damage than I already had. And I’m so, so sorry for hurting you.”

I was so entranced in her eyes while she was speaking that up until now, I hadn’t realized how close she was, or even that her hand was gripping my flesh hand. She’s so close that I could see the fading sunlight brightening her freckles. She was so, so close that my brain was at loss.

I didn’t know if the sun was illuminating her face or if it was the other way around, but such perfection made something inside me stir, I felt strange. I felt an urge to reached out and touch her face, like I needed to feel her skin under my touch just as much as I needed oxygen.   “Why are you here now, Carol?” My voice was so soft that felt foreign, almost like a whisper. “My heart is at Earth.” She whispered back, like she was afraid of breaking this spell, this trance that was keeping both of us from moving away.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Chapter 6 The Problem with Perfection spoilers!!

Hey all!! So, people asked to see the part of the chapter where Mondo was, uh... rude, so I figured I’d post it, since it’s already written. And it’s gonna be a while ‘til the companion piece (which is titled “The Problem with Mondo,” ha) is released, but there are no real spoilers in this section, and the one spoiler there is, I cut out. 

The section is below the cut! It’s about 5,000 words, starting right after Mondo leaves the store to find Taka. There will be some things that don’t make sense, since the context was written in earlier chapters of the companion piece, or ins later chapters of The Problem with Perfection (TPWP) so beware of that, ha. Also, since Mondo is far more foul mouth than Taka, there’s a TON of curses in this section, ha. I don’t curse in everyday life, like... at all. Not even when upset. So it may not be super natural, but I did my best. 

I will also say there is a warning for internalized biphobia in this segment, so beware that. And, of course, the use of the same slur in the TPWP chapter.

I hope this explains things!!!

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

Quieter than anyone would ever give him credit for, Mondo slips out of the computer store and into the chill late September air. He doesn’t even feel the cold as he looks around, trying to see if he can find Ishimaru hanging around the area, perhaps still crying or some shit. When he doesn’t see him, Mondo turns to the general store across the way, hoping the kid did what he said and went there, and that he didn’t just say ‘fuck it’ and returned to the school. Shit. He truly hopes he didn’t do that. It would make it worse if he decided to leave their class outing just because Mondo was a fucking idiot. Goddamn. 

 The general store looks exactly the same as every other general store Mondo has ever been in, and with his advanced height, he’s easily able to look over the top of the shelves, his eyes scanning for a very, very familiar frame. 

 It takes him only a few seconds before he spots him. 

 Fuck, he looks sad... he thinks to himself, gut roiling. The kid is staring blankly at the shelves, face fucking despondent as shit, and Mondo doesn’t think he’s seen anything that looked so fucking sad before. It makes him want to rush over to the kid, wrap his arms around him, and tell him it’s going to be okay, but it’s a stupid fucking desire so he firmly pushes it away. Besides. It’s not like Ishimaru would appreciate it. 

 Mondo gives himself a single moment to stare, trying his best to calm his fucked-up stomach, before walking over to the kid, silent as a mouse. He has no idea what he’s going to say, his head too fucking scrambled to even begin thinking of that shit, but it doesn’t matter. He’s mostly here so Ishimaru can get his revenge and feel better already, shit. It would prolly be better if he said something super fucking stupid, to get that fiery hatred to rise in those fucking gorgeous eyes of his. 

 He knows the second Ishimaru notices his presence behind him. The kid had actually been kind of loose before, even if sorrow and resignation clung to him like a blanket. But the instant Mondo gets close, the kid goes so fucking stiff and rigid it ain’t funny, looking like a statue again. Or glass. Fragile fucking glass...

 Knowing he has to say something, Mondo takes a deep breath and just fucking... goes for it.

 No time like the present...

 “Hey, uh, look, Ishimaru-” Mondo starts, feeling so fucking awkward, but he doesn’t have the ability to say anymore before Ishimaru abruptly cuts him off, eyes blazing as he fucking glares. Not at him, at the display, but shit, it’s still so fucking impressive. God, but if he ain’t so fucking beautiful alive when he glares... 

 “Look, Owada-kun, I am not in the mood, so if you have any decency in you whatsoever, you will kindly leave me alone!” Ishimaru hisses, eyes like lasers as they glare at the dried ramen on the shelf. If it were possible to set things on fire with a glare alone, those noodles would be toast, he thinks humorlessly. Shit… but damn, he truly fucked up, didn’t he… shit.

 Silence falls between them, then, and he sees Ishimaru move on from the ramen, looking so tense and upset Mondo aches with sympathy. And he... fuck, he really should just do as the kid said, just leave him the fuck alone and let him pick himself back up, but he... he just can’t. He still hasn’t apologized, hasn’t let Ishimaru tear him a new one, and he... he just can’t leave now. Not when Ishimaru still looks so fucking sad. 

 So, Mondo just trails after the boy like a ghost, feeling so fucking awkward, but not really knowing what to say. He can see tears shining in the boy’s eyes and it makes him feel like absolute shit. It might be better to just leave him alone, but fuck if he doesn’t fucking wanna do that. He has no idea why he cares so fucking much about this fucking kid, but... but he just does, goddamn. 

 Finally, after a few awkward minutes have passed, Mondo decides to say ‘fuck it’ again and just... goes for it. Allowing his voice to sound softer and kinder than it ever has sounded before, his face open and honest should the kid decide to look at him, he speaks, hoping that Ishimaru doesn’t think he’s making fun of him, god...

 “You really mean it when you say you’re not rich, don’t you?” 

 He doesn’t quite know why he says that, of all things, but he doesn’t regret it. Not even when Ishimaru freezes, eyes wide and watery as they look at the styrofoam cups he’s for some reason staring at. He even lets himself speak properly for once, the way his bro taught him, before he then taught him to speak improperly to piss off the authority. He knows his words can be taken in a negative way, knows that it could sound like he’s making fun of the kid, but he... he hopes that Ishimaru can tell he’s being serious, for once. And if he can’t, and he decides to get blindingly angry at Mondo, well... ain’t like he doesn’t fucking deserve it, shit. 

 When Ishimaru looks up at him, eyes blazing, mouth open to prolly tell him to ‘leave me the fuck alone’ (or, you know, without the curse since the kid is so fucking innocent he refuses to curse ever, shit), Mondo thinks that the second option is more likely to happen here. And while he kind of fucking hates it, he doesn’t blame the kid. It makes him feel uncomfortable to have his face be so open and vulnerable when faced with such anger, especially since he never lets his face look like this, god, but he fights to keep it like that. He wants Ishimaru to knows he’s being serious, for once. 

 It’s what the boy is fucking owed. 

 And then... to his complete and utter surprise... 

 Ishimaru relaxes. His shoulders lose that angry tilt to them, his face stops looking so pinched, and his eyebrows stop being so furrowed they might as well be a unibrow. He turns back to look at the cups, still looking sad and upset, but he... he doesn’t look angry. 

 S-shit...  

 Several seconds pass in awkward fucking silence, Mondo thinking the kid will just continue to ignore him until he finally is forced to awkwardly shuffle off, feeling worse than he ever has before, when...

 “No, Owada-kun. I am not. Not even close. You... you told me, last week, that I could never understand what it’s like to go to bed hungry. You couldn’t have been more wrong. I often did, my father unable to pay off our debts and feed us at the same time. I often wondered if I’d waste away from lack of nutrition, like the starvation victims I’d see in my textbooks. My... m-my mother, she... she died, because we could not afford her cancer treatment. I... I am not rich, Owada-kun. And it is highly unlikely that I ever will be. No matter what lies I may tell myself to get through the day…” 

 Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

 Holy shit!

 He... he never would have expected that from the kid. And he’s not even just talking about the words themselves, though fuck is that sad. His ma really died because they couldn’t fucking afford treatment...? Shit, he thought shit like that only happened in backwards countries, like America or something, god fucking damn. 

 But it’s not just that that has him so fucking shocked, looking at the kid as he stares at the cups, mouth pulled down in the saddest fucking grimace he’s ever fucking seen. No... it’s the fact that Ishimaru told him this, of all people. Why... why would he trust him like this? After all he’s done, all he’s said... why would Ishimaru trust him to not be a fucking douchebag, like he always is? Why would Ishimaru trust him at all, when he’s done absolutely nothing to earn that trust? G-god... s-shit... it’s almost too much for him, and part of him wants to run away. To flee this moment and never have to deal with Ishimaru’s stupid ass trust. He...

 He doesn’t deserve it...

 But...

 But Mondo still hasn’t apologized. 

 And if Ishimaru isn’t inclined to tear him a new one, and is instead giving him a chance to make things right, then... 

 Then he can’t fucking ruin this golden chance. 

 And so, he... he decides to show how sorry he is by showing Ishimaru the same trust that the boy just showed him. 

 It’s what the kid is owed. 

 Even if it does make his skin fucking crawl... 

 “Wow, that uh... that really fuckin’ sucks, man. I mean... freakin’. But I, uh... I get it, ya know? It uh... it was the same, for me. Well, not exactly the same, but... s-see, my folks they, uh... they weren’t exactly the best, heh. Da didn’t exactly hang ‘round long, and ma died not too long after. I barely even remember ‘em, ta be perfectly honest. Just a blur of angry faces and drunken words. My older brother, Daiya, he uh… he raised me. Took care a’ me. We never had much, but as long as I had him, I was good, ya know? But... but I still hated it. Bein’ so poor. Never havin’ even a fraction a’ the things the kids at my run down schools had. I remember gettin’ so angry whenever I’d see one a’ my classmates totin’ ‘round some new gizmo or whatever, not even realizin’ just what I’d give ta have something even half as nice. I... I was always so angry, back then. Still am, heh… ‘specially here, at this school... it... I dunno. S’hard. And you… ya just... I dunno. Ya remind me a’ them. The kids I knew. The ones I hated...”

 Mondo pauses here for a second, before he looks up at Ishimaru and chuckles softly. 

 “But I get now that y’ain’t like ‘em, are ya? You... ya get it. What it’s like. Ta have fricken nothing’ while wantin’ everythin’. Ya know, ya… ya remind me a’ my bro a bit, heh. My bro, he, uh… he started my gang, ya know. Built it up from scratch. From nothin’. Always had big plans, Daiya did. An’ I don’t expect ya ta understand, but it’s all I got left a’ him now. He... yeah. Maybe I don’t like the violence as much as I prolly should, but I can’t just quit. I owe it ta Daiya ta keep the gang runnin’, keep us together. Honor his memory. Or somethin’ like that… shit. Uh, I mean… shoot. But, uh… my point is, while I may be a biker, I ain’t a complete a-hole, ya know? I do got some limits. An’ I shouldn’t a’ said what I did ta ya. Yer right, it’s uh... distasteful, ta talk ‘bout things like that, ‘specially in front a’ other people. I don’t expect ya ta accept it, but I am sorry. Genuinely. It was shitty a’ me ta do that, and if ya wanna hit me or somethin’, I won’t stop ya. I prolly deserve it.” 

 Mondo stops his rambling words abruptly then, his hands twitching at his sides. He feels so fucking exposed right now, everything in him feeling so wrong and vulnerable. He hadn’t told the complete truth, either, downplaying the way his da and ma really fucked him up, but he’d been more truthful than he’s ever fucking been. He’d even done his best to mind his language, knowing Ishimaru hates it when he curses. And while normally he wouldn’t care, he just... he wanted his apology to be genuine, fuck. Ishimaru still isn’t looking at him and he feels so uncomfortable it’s not fucking funny, but he fights hard to not storm away like he always does when uncomfortable. 

 It’s so fucking hard, but his restraint is proven to be worth it when Ishimaru turns to face him, a small, wry smile on his lips, his eyes... his eyes full of life for the first time that day, holy shit... and what he says...

 “I thought you said that no one deserves to be hit, Owada-kun? Or does that not apply to yourself?” 

 Mondo cannot help how he blinks at Ishimaru with shock, mind blanking as he hears the kid fucking... fucking tease him, holy shit! He didn’t know the kid even had a sense of humor, but he’d clearly meant the words as a joke, since he’s smiling softly, fucking eyes dancing with a silent mirth. 

 As he gets over the shock at Ishimaru saying a fucking joke, he finds himself smiling. It’s small at first but grows more and more as he gets used to the idea of Ishimaru joking around with him, realizing he... he actually really fucking likes it. The kid smiling at him, for once, speaking to him almost like they’re friends or something. It... fuck, he has no idea how to describe the way it makes him feel inside, god. 

 Letting out a soft, relieved laugh, he feels so fucking glad that he didn’t mess this whole thing up. To try and let out the strange buoyancy he feels inside, he playfully shoves Ishimaru, not wanting to hurt him, but just wanting... to be playful and easy, to keep going with the unusual lightness their conversation suddenly has. He... god, it feels so weird, but also so... so nice, acting like this with Ishimaru... f-fuck... 

 “Aw, shut the hell up, ya nerd! I said no one deserves ta be beat, not hit. There’s a difference, idiot. Now come on. Hit me. I know ya wanna, ya goddamn goody-two shoes. Y’ain’t gonna get another chance like this, I promise ya that!” Mondo says, grinning like an idiot. He can’t help how he’s looking at Ishimaru, marveling at how nice the kid looks when he’s genuinely smiling. It... it’s making him feel so weird inside, and he knows his eyes are too soft, betraying everything he feels inside, but maybe it’s not so bad... not when Ishimaru is looking at him like that, g-god... like he’s not a fucking monster... like he might... might be...

 Someone amazing... 

 He watches, heart pounding strangely, as Ishimaru curls his hand into a loose fist, looking like he’s never thrown a punch before, god. And then, weak as a fucking kitten, the kid, he... he fucking taps Mondo so lightly on his chest that if he weren’t watching it, he wouldn’t have thought the kid had touched him at all. It’s so fucking endearing, Jesus fucking Christ... 

 Mondo has no idea what is going on inside him at that moment, his insides feeling so fucking weird and squirming. It... it’s almost like fucking butterflies, but he knows it ain’t, he’s not fucking gay, shit. But... but god, it feels so nice... Ishimaru smiling at him feels- feels so nice... 

 Unable to help himself, he lets out the laugh that wants to escape, loud and boisterous, like he always does when genuinely happy. F-fuck... he’s not laughed like this in ages... unrestrained like this, loud and just... happy. So fucking happy. 

 Ishimaru... Ishimaru makes him feel so goddamn happy...

 What the fuck…

 Before he can stop himself, he feels his hand dart out and grab Ishimaru’s hand— which is still hovering over around his chest— and just... shit. Holds it close to him, pressing it right over his fucking heart. He doesn’t know why he does it, he just knows that it feels... natural or something. And the feel of Ishimaru’s hand under his, the flesh warm and smooth under his rough palm, the fingers curled so wondrously under his, it makes him feel- f-feel... shit, he doesn’t even know, he doesn’t know, and he... he doesn’t know what the fuck to do, holy shit. 

 The kid is staring at him with wide eyes, his cheeks the most beautiful shade of pink he’s ever seen, and his lips are partially open, his breathing shallow and uneven. Something about the look is making his head go all stupid, his brain full of static and cotton, his chest aching but not in a bad way, and it makes him want... w-want to... 

 “Man, Ishimaru-san, you, uh... you sure are somethin’ else, ain’t ya,” he says softly, softer than he’s ever heard himself sound before. His lips are curled in a small smile, and everything in him is feeling so, so weird. He can feel himself drifting closer and closer to the kid, not knowing why he’s doing it, why he wants to do it, but fuck, he can’t make himself stop. He feels so warm inside, warmer than he’s ever felt before, and his brain isn’t working, and he... he wants... he wants...

 His eyes dart down to Ishimaru’s lips then, unbidden. They’re partially open, allowing Mondo to see a hint of a pink tongue sitting innocently passed the bitten lips, and it makes his gut lurch, heat blooming within him. H-holy shit... what the... t-the fuck...?

 What would his lips feel like against your own? he hears a voice whisper inside him, making his breath hitch, and he knows he should push it away, should shut it the fuck up, but... b-but...

 They look so fucking rough and warm, don’t they... bet they would feel so fucking nice, the kid pressing his body so firmly to you, hands in your hair... he’s always so fucking passionate, he’d prolly be a passionate kisser... maybe he’d even bite your lips to all hell, like he bites his own... and maybe then you can bite his, finally fucking feel those pale lips you’ve been dreaming about for so fucking long under your teeth, listening to the little noises that kid will prolly make, feeling so fucking much, fuck, Ishimaru is so fucking much and fuck is it so fucking hot- 

 Mondo gets cruelly jolted from the horrible fucking thoughts, holy shit when he feels Ishimaru jerk away from him, his eyes so wide and fucking horrified it’s not fucking funny. It takes him a second to realize what the fuck is going on, what had just fucking happened, but when he does, he... he...

 Holy. God. Damn. SHIT.

 Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit-!

 What the goddamn fuck had he just- just done... what the goddamn fuck had he just thought?! H-he... he isn’t... he doesn’t... h-he doesn’t want to fucking kis- fuck! No! No, no, no! Nononononononononononono!!!!! 

 He’s not- fuck! He doesn’t think of- of dudes like that, h-he doesn’t- and yeah, maybe he’s had a couple dreams of Ishimaru and his- his eyes and his- h-his li- but it means nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing! Y-you can’t fucking control what you dream about, so it means fucking nothing! Nothing nothing nothing!

 As he looks at Ishimaru, the kid looking so fucking horrified, looking at Mondo with fucking disgust, Mondo knows he- he has to fix this, has to- has to make sure that fucking little freak doesn’t think he- fuck, it had to have been him! H-he was the one who- who had been drifting closer, who had gotten so close to him, who had almost- almost fucking kissed him, it wasn’t his fucking fault! I-it wasn’t- it wasn’t-! 

 “What the fuck... w-what the hell did ya... what did ya do ta me, ya fuckin’ freak?! What are ya, some kinda goddamn fairy?! Get the hell away from me, you f*g!” 

 Mondo can hear the horrified gasp the hall monitor lets out, the boy taking a step back as anger and hatred rise in his eyes. G-good... f-fucking good. H-he hates using that word, always beats the shit out of the sons of bitches who use fucking slurs like that, but he- he had to make sure Ishimaru knew- k-knew that he- he’s not... h-he’s not-

 Ishimaru is glaring at him again, so far from the soft and open look from a moment before it stupidly makes him want to fucking cry, but he can’t do that, doesn’t do that, he just- just glares right on back and hopes that Ishimaru doesn’t see the way he’s shaking, his entire body and mind so fucking confused. Because he- he has no idea where the fuck that came from, why he- he had felt like that, why he had thought that, why he... why he wanted-

 But no. He hadn’t. Hadn’t wanted, hadn’t wanted, hadn’t wanted at all. Ishimaru must have- have done something to him, fucking drugged him or something, it’s the only fucking explanation, holy fucking shit-

 “I- I... you! I did nothing! I-it was you who... and how dare you, use such a word?! I’m not- not... that, but that gives you no right to use such language! You are lucky we are not on school grounds, or else I would give you detention for the rest of the year for using such a vile word! I- I have never been so disgusted before in my life! Y-you... you...” 

 Mondo feels a spike of absolute pain stab him then, making him want to gasp, but he can’t, can’t show weakness, oh god, so he just glares, letting all the anger and hatred he feels come to the surface as he glares daggers into Ishimaru. He masks the pain and the confusion and he just glares. 

 He listens as the kid trails off, as his eyes get shiny again, his lips (oh god, his lips) pulled down in the harshest grimace he’s ever seen, but he can’t let it sway him, oh god. After a moment of tense fucking silence, he hears the kid fucking sob, tears bright in his eyes, before he turns tail and fucking bolts. He strides away so quickly he might as well be running, and as soon as he reaches the door, Mondo sees through the window as he actually runs. He’s fast as a fucking bullet, like a fucking marathon runner, but Mondo can’t focus on that, fuck, he just can’t-

 Mondo is stuck in place, his body fucking frozen in space, no idea what to do, until he sees the owner of the store storming over to him, looking pissed. Putting on his most menacing, ‘don’t you fucking even look at me’ glare, he only has to look at the old man once to make that fucking coward’s eyes widen and make him back off. Seeing as how he’s prolly gonna head to the phone to call the cops, which would just make his fucking day so much better, he decides to just fucking bail. He- he doesn’t want to be here anymore anyway, he just- just wants to be away, god-

 He doesn’t realize he’d actually moved until he feels the chill late September air attack his face again, making him gasp harshly. Goosebumps are alive on his skin and he feels so fucking sick inside and all he wants is to get on his fucking hog and ride. Ride far from this fucking school, far from this fucking moment, far from- from what he- he had almost... almost done-

 Mondo is moving before he realizes again, mind so fucking confused it’s not fucking funny, feet taking off in the opposite direction he saw Ishimaru go. He can distantly hear people calling to him, Leon saying his name, but he ignores them. And then he starts walking faster, not quite running since his endurance for running is fucking shit, but he definitely is going fast, his long legs helping him for once. Pretty soon he’s out of the fucking mall and he doesn’t quite know the way back to the school, but he’s always had a good fucking sense of direction, so it doesn’t take him long to see streets he recognizes that allow him to make it back to the school right fucking quick. He keeps his eyes peeled, making sure that no one fucking approaches him (and that he doesn’t accidentally run into the one person he wants to see the least), which thankfully doesn’t happen, thank fuck. 

 Before long he’s in the school parking lot and as soon as he’s there he makes a beeline for his baby, hopping on without a single fucking thought, keys already in hand to turn her on. He doesn’t wait a single fucking second before peeling out of the parking lot, not caring about speed limits or traffic as he speeds towards the highway. 

 He doesn’t know where he’s going. He has no fucking idea where he wants to go, or what the fuck he’s going to do; all he knows is that he has to be away, away, away. H-he can’t stand being in that fucking school, fucking surrounded by that goddamn fucking hall monitor, slowly losing his goddamn mind, shit! He... he just can’t! 

 At least while he’s driving, he doesn’t have to think. He just drives, faster and faster, avoiding the other cars without any fucking problem. He’s going far over the speed limit, pressing 160 KPH, but he doesn’t fucking care. If the cops try to pull him over, he’ll just lead them on a chase, fuck that would feel so fucking good right about now. It’s risky doing that shit when by himself, his plates on, but he just doesn’t fucking care, god! He just doesn’t care! He wants to fucking stop feeling like this, his body and mind fucking frozen in that moment, wondering what would have happened had Ishimaru not pulled away, had he erased those last remaining centimeters, had he been able to actually fucking kiss those fucking kissable looking lips-

 Mondo drives faster. He drives faster and faster and faster, as fast as he fucking can, not caring where he’s going, just knowing he needs to be away. 

  (This part is cut out because there are ~~~~spoilers oooooo~~~~ Just know that Mondo is outside somewhere now. And he has alcohol, somehow that I can’t say because of spoilers, ha. There are some mild spoilers for the rest of TPWP in this next section, but nothing super major.)

   He takes the cap off the whiskey bottle and he downs half the bottle in one fucking gulp. It makes him feel so fucking sick but he doesn’t fucking care, he doesn’t care, he just wants to not fucking think- 

 He’s not fucking gay. He’s not, he’s not, he’s not, god, he’s not! He hadn’t wanted to- to do anything with Ishimaru, he fucking despises Ishimaru, he has never hated anyone more! Fuck, even the thought of that fucking fairy makes him want to kill someone! Ishimaru could fucking die and he wouldn’t fucking care! He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t! He fucking, goddamn WOULDN’T!

��You’re such a goddamn liar, Owada, such a goddamn fucking liar-

 He drinks. He drinks. He drinks and he drinks and he drinks, until the ache in his chest is gone, until he can’t feel anything anymore, until all he feels is fucking numb.  

 Ishimaru means nothing to him. Absolutely nothing. He doesn’t know why he’s felt so weird about him before now, but like fuck is he ever going to allow himself to show that motherfucker any hint of mercy now. It’s decided. His life’s fucking goal is to make Ishimaru as fucking miserable as possible. He will do everything he can to break that motherfucker, so that he never fucking thinks he can get that fucking close to him again, so he fucking knows how disgusting and pathetic he is. Mondo isn’t gay. He’s not gay, and he has no problem with people who are gay, but he does fucking have a problem with Ishi-fucking-maru. 

 He’s not gay. He’s not gay. He repeats the words in his mind, staring blankly at the stars, not knowing when the sun had set and night came, but not really caring. He isn’t gay, he can’t be gay. He has nothing against gay people, and if he were gay, it wouldn’t be a fucking problem, but he’s fucking not fucking gay. He likes chicks. Breasts. Pussy. When he looks at a naked chick in his porno mags, or when watching porn, he gets so fucking hard. He jerks off every night to the thought of himself fucking pounding into chicks, of chicks blowing him, of him eating chicks out. He likes chicks, he’s fucking attracted to chicks. 

 He doesn’t like dudes. He just- he doesn’t. He fucking can’t, because he already likes chicks, and Daiya always told him he could only like one. Chicks or dudes. Dudes or chicks. Whichever he chose, Daiya would support him, he was a good fucking brother, but the one thing he always told Mondo was that he had to choose only one. 

 Their old man liked both. He’d have men over, sometimes, and do things with them. While their ma was in the next room, sobbing her eyes out, Mondo staring wide-eyed at the wall, not knowing what any of it meant, he’d been so fucking young. His da apparently did shit like that before Mondo was born, too, even when things had been better for their little family, before Mondo ruined everything with his birth. Daiya always hated it, said it was fucking despicable, and he told Mondo he had to choose one. He had to be faithful, monogamous, and you can’t be faithful if you like both. Daiya never said that aloud, but Mondo could fucking read between the lines. 

 Mondo likes chicks. He’s fucking allowed to like chicks. He doesn’t like dudes. He just... he doesn’t.

 He is not his goddamn old man. 

 He doesn’t like Ishimaru. He hates Ishimaru. Him and his fucking wide, watery eyes, and his sad fucking smiles, and his lonely fucking demeanor. He’s never hated anyone more, shit. If he never saw Ishimaru again, it would be too fucking soon, because he’s a goddamn nuisance, who needs to be fucking put in his goddamn place. He needs to be brought down, needs to be reminded how worthless he is, needs to- to know that Mondo isn’t, that he hadn’t wanted, that he’s not fucking gay-

 Mondo will never admit it, not to himself, but his cheeks are wet. He prolly spilled some whiskey on his face, or maybe it started raining, but whatever, it doesn’t matter. He stares at the stars, feeling so goddamn sick, wishing that he weren’t fucking alive. That Daiya hadn’t pushed him out of the way that day, that he had just let that semi ram into him, that he’d been the one who died and not-

 His cheeks are wet, but it’s just from the rain. It always fucking rains, even though there’s not a cloud in the goddamn sky. 

 Mondo finishes the bottle, and he wants to die, but before he can die, he falls asleep. He knows he shouldn’t, it gets so fucking cold overnight, but maybe he’ll freeze to death and that will solve all his fucking problems. It’s not like anyone will care. Leon doesn’t care about him, he just wants Mondo around to make himself seem tougher. Fujisaki wouldn’t care, she was just trying to be nice to him earlier, humoring him so he wouldn’t hurt her. He doesn’t fucking know anyone else at that goddamn school, they all avoid him like the plague, so fucking scared of him, so they wouldn’t care. And... and Ishimaru...

 He’d prolly be happy. If Mondo died. If Mondo went missing and no one ever found the body. He’d prolly be so, so fucking happy. 

 Mondo sleeps and he dreams of bright red eyes, drowning him with the accusations they always contain, the hatred and disgust sharper than any knife he’s ever felt. 

 He wakes with wet cheeks. 

 Goddamn rain.