#this is the cleanest my place has been since i moved in

[the-ash-holio]

That feeling once you finally say fuck it and clean non-stop for 13 hours straight, after letting yourself fall into a hole for.... months.

It feels good to hate this place a little less now. I'm proud of myself.

[justawriterofstuff]

A silly little spell

(A/N: I have no regrets writing this. I only ask that minors do NOT read this. This is content made for a mature audience. I’ve been wondering how I was going to type this out but I’ll wing it as I go. Please enjoy ONLY IF YOU’RE 18 AND UP. MDNI!!!Reblogs to support my writing.)

(TW; Tentacles, penetration, oral play, breast play, female!reader, suction cups, sexual touching, degrading)

If you were to tell Jason that he was going to be turned into an octopus monster by a random god by the name of Circe, he’d tell you you’re crazy.

    But that’s exactly what happened, and now he’s been avoiding everyone and anyone to figure out how to fix himself. He tried tracking down Circe but even at night he can’t avoid civilians who panic and scream at the sight of him.

    He’s been off grid to BatFam, but it’s you that he has the hardest time being away from.

    Three weeks have passed since he last saw you, and Jason is getting restless. He misses touching you, holding you, and hearing you laugh. Now he knows how Killer Croc feels because no way does Jason want to be out in the public eye.

     Jason’s skin for one has turned into an angry pink, blemished with scales. His tentacles grow from the middle of his back and can reach any distance from him.

     And he must be in the water almost all the time.

    So where is he? In the lagoon on the outskirts of Gotham.

    It’s surprisingly one of the cleanest spots in Gotham. He swims for long periods of time, only coming up to his makeshift home to rest and eat. And even then, he can’t do that for too long, lest he dries out and itches.

     Jason thought he could make them dry off, and the tentacles would fall off him but then he was itchy and miserable, so now he must swim in the lagoon near Gotham.

      He can’t even go out and patrol.

      One night, as he’s swimming and trying to think of other places Circe disappeared off to, he hears someone approaching way too close to where he is. Ducking under the docks, he peeks when he sees the shadow of a person.

       The smog density isn’t as strong as in central Gotham, and Jason can properly see who it is.

       His heart drops down to his stomach as he sees you.

       “Fuck…” he mutters, panic making his tentacles move restlessly under the water.

         You step along the dock, goggles on your face.

         Fuckfuckfuck…

         Those are night vision goggles.

         Jason is about to dive as deep as he can when he hears you click on your comm.

        “Oracle, are you sure the report of the creature was spotted here? All I’m seeing it murky water.” You said, and for a moment, Jason is stunned to the sound of your voice.

          How long had it been since he’d seen you.

          As you nodded, and switched off from the comm, you pressed a button on your watch and a mouthpiece was formed from your helmet.

         You were going to dive down in the waters…

         “Wait!” Jason called out, getting in your line of sight. Surprise froze you, and you pushed a button on the side of your helmet.

           “Jason? This is where you’ve been the entire time?” you asked, hands on your hips as you stared down at him.

            “I…I had a good reason.” Jason replied, not wanting to step out of the waters so you could see.

            “What reason could that be? Are you hiding that tentacle creature that’s been scaring civilians?” you ask, confusion in your tone.

               No wonder you’d come out here then; you’d probably been sent out on a mission by Batman to find the creature that was wandering around Gotham.

              “No.” Jason whispered, his heart beating out of his chest.

               “Then why-“ she stops as gradually, Jason steps up from the waters, his tentacles flexing and shaking under your gaze.

                 When you take a step back, his heart breaks. But for some reason, you don’t run.

                “Who did this to you?” you ask instead, slipping the helmet off your head.

                 “Circe. She made me into this and now…I’ve been trying to track her done to undo this. She said a riddle that would break the spell, but I’m not like Bruce who would figure this out, or like Tim.” Jason replied, using his tentacles to climb up on to the docks.

                   “I thought you would have your legs, but that’s all tentacle too.” You murmur. “So, what’s the riddle?”

                    “Oh! Um, it goes like:

                    It equates to you, not me.

                  The person that can set you free.

                 Not father, not mother

               Nor sister or brother.

              The person that set can set you free

             Has said the numbers one, four, and three.” Jason finished, and for a moment, you look so confused and lost, his heart almost shatters.

              “And you remember it word for word?” you ask, and he nods, his tentacles brushing against your ankles. It feels weird, cold yet smooth.

               “Yes, and I’ve spent most of my time looking for Circe so I can strangle the answer-what are you doing?” Jason asks, as you trace one of his tentacles.

                “Not father, or mother, or sister, or brother…” you murmur, trying to piece the answer together. Again, you hold on to one of his tentacles, squeezing it a little as you think.

                 Jason’s not sure what to do. He has control of his tentacles of course, but it’s been a while since he’s seen you, and you’re wearing his favorite suit.

                 “I got it! It’s lover! Not sister nor mother, nor father or brother. It has to be someone outside of your family, which is lover!” you say so excited that your hold on his tentacle tightens.

                 Jason winces, a flush spreading down his face. He’s happy that part of the riddle was solved but apparently the tentacle you’re squeezing-

                “But what about the numbers one, four, and three?” you ask, dropping hold of him entirely. You pace, and Jason watches, trying not to touch you with his tentacles.

                 You sigh as you grab your phone from your back pocket, keying something in. Surprise colors your face, and you look up to Jason.

                “It’s not lover because of the person not being claimed as your family. It’s lover because the person should have said I love you in a romantic relationship.” You replied, and Jason blushes heavily.

                 “Why are you being shy about it now?” you ask.

                 “Because literally look at me.” He replies, and you do look at him, taking in the scaly pink skin of his, the tentacles that are crowded around him, moving and pulsing with life.

                  It’s kinda freaky but it doesn’t bother you.

                 “Jason, I’d be happy to kiss you.” You replied, making him blush even more.

To be continued [if enough reblogs are accounted for]…                 

[chaoticm0therfvcker]

Beach Day (ElderLily modern au)

Elder Faerie and White Lily are on their first date since they tied the knot and got married to each other, and it’s your classic day at the beach! Sadly, Elder Faerie isn’t as excited for this as he’s acting, for he has a secret he’s kind of ashamed of

Tags: transmasc elder faerie, body dysmorphia, elder faerie has top surgery scars, a shitload of fluff and cuteness

“I can’t wait to show you the beach! It’s so beautiful.” White Lily excitedly told Elder Faerie.

As a kid, Coconut Beach was one of her favorite places to visit, next to Dragon Hill. It was this beautiful beach, with the softest sand, the clearest water, the cleanest coast, and so, so many different sea shells and little fish, and even some bits of coral from a coral reef near the coastline. That beach, as well as the national park, sparked her love for travel, and as soon as she was old enough to be on her own, she traveled the world, discovering new cultures and figuring out who she truly was.

It’s how she met Elder Faerie, it’s how she fell into that coma, it’s how she discovered all the fear and grief and darkness that plagued the world and sparked yet another passion, one for peace and love and justice and prosperity. But above all else, it’s how she realized just how precious her friends and her lover truly are, and how despite her now fragile form, she must care for them in any and every way possible. Crazy how the butterfly effect works, huh?

That beach changed her life, and now, that beach was going to be hers and Elder Faeries first date since they married and moved in together.

“And I can’t wait to see it, my love.” Elder Faerie replied, glancing at his wife and smiling softly.

Admittedly, Elder Faerie was happy to be going to this beach. He had seen just how happy Lily was to be taking him to this place, and the way her eyes lit up while describing this place to him, and after seeing all the horrible things she had been through recently, he knew he had to do whatever possible in order to preserve that innocent joy. Even if that meant facing a fear that had been looming over his head for years now.

See, Elder Faerie is a transgender Man. He was born a girl, with his cutesie innocence and his love for both cute girl stuff like fashion and makeup along with boyish stuff like video games and fantasy weapons. However, when he hit puberty, he realized something was off about his identity, about the way his soul felt broken when he developed curves and breasts, and his suspicions were confirmed when he discovered the gender spectrum in health class; he realized that he was in fact, a man. Sure, he still liked the classic “girly stuff” like cute dresses and his long, luxurious hair that reached down to his waist, but didn’t mean that he was truly a man.

He was a man stuck in a girls body, and now with a new body build and a bunch of crazy hormones, he was aware of how trapped he was, and he hated it.

Of course, White Lily knew all of this, and it almost made her love him even more. The way he braved such a difficult time, how he discovered such an amazing thing about himself, and how he was willing to share such a personal detail with her made her heart flutter with admiration and love.

However, because of his gender identity, Elder Faerie had gotten top surgery when he was in his early twenties, and while White Lily was fully aware of this too, she had never seen the scars left behind by his procedure.

Despite how wonderful he felt no longer having breasts, he hated those damned scars. It felt like some sort of burden, a dark secret that was harder to own up to than even realizing that he was trans. It made him feel incomplete, disgusting, fake. He had tried overcoming his fear by coming up with some stupid scar story like trying to dry a kitchen knife off with his shirt, but nothing realistic enough came to mind.

He wanted so desperately to believe that White Lily would accept him no matter what kind of scars were on his body, but nothing could calm his fear.

“…sunscreen, umbrella, drinks…” White Lily was mumbling to herself. She then turned to Elder Faerie, who had a wide-eyed blank expression on his face as he tightly clutched the steering wheel. “Are you okay, honey?”

Elder Faerie snapped out of his daze and glanced at White Lily with a confused expression on his face. “Huh? Oh, of course, I’m just thinking of all the wonderful things that might be at this magical beach you love so much. I packed my bathing suit, right?”

“You’re wearing it, silly. Don’t you remember putting on your swim trunks before we left?” White Lily giggled, “Are you… sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Elder Faerie reassured her, “just tired I guess.”

Just then, they pulled into the beach’s parking lot, and after finding a place to park, they got out and unloaded their stuff. Walking onto the soft sand on the beach, the couple found a spot, laid out their towel, and got to enjoying the beach. They shared snacks and drinks, made cute little sandcastles, and talked about life together.

Then, White Lily wanted to get in the water.

“I’m going to get changed into my bathing suit,” she said, pointing her thumb at the nearby bathroom, “why don’t you take your shirt off so we can go swimming? The water is really nice.”

Elder Faerie nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Once she had walked off, Elder Faerie sat down on the towel and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his head in the space between his knees and his chest. He just felt so… ashamed. He was ashamed of his body, of the scars on his chest, of his fear, of his cowardice, hell, he was ashamed of his shame! Most of all, he was ashamed of his lack of trust in his own wife. He knew White Lily loved him for who he was, and that she would be perfectly fine with the remnants of his top surgery. However, something deep within him was withholding his ability to show her the truth. Would she really be fine with it? Even if she was, how would she react to the way he kept this from her. There were just too many variables to trust that it would go well.

“Fae…?”

Elder Faerie’s head shot up at the sound at his nickname, and he saw White Lily standing before him, looking concerned. “Fae, what’s wrong? You’ve seemed off all day.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” Elder Faerie replied, shaking his head.

“Honey…” White Lily sat in front of Elder Faerie, “I can tell that something’s wrong. I know you want to support me and share my passions and stuff, but I don’t want you do feel like I forced you to come here.”

“No, it’s not that, I wanted to come here! I just-“ his breath hitched, and he could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes, “I just-”

Before he could say anything more, White Lily leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly and nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, Fae. You don’t have to worry about anything, i promise. I won’t force you to tell me what’s wrong, but I can’t help you if you don’t communicate with me. Just tell me what you need from me and I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better.”

Though hesitant at first, Elder Faerie returned the hug, relaxing into White Lily’s grasp. “There’s… something that I need to show you.”

Elder Faerie stood up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off of his shoulders. There was his bare chest, featuring his top surgery scars.

White Lily stood as well and gazed at the scars, gently reaching out and grazing them with her fingertips. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“As you know before we met, I got top surgery.” Elder Faerie explained. “The doctors removed the breast tissue, and I didn’t have boobs anymore, and it felt amazing. But these scars, they made me feel ugly and unwanted. I know I could’ve easily trusted you to see them, but I couldn’t bring myself to show you.”

Once he had finished, White Lily immediately pulled him into a loving kiss. “You are not ugly, you are the most beautiful person in the universe, and you have been the most amazing boyfriend ever. Even before we confessed our love for each other, even when I was in that coma, you were the most incredible man that I could have ever encountered in my entire life, and a few scars aren’t going to change my view of you.”

“I’ve just felt so ashamed of them,” Elder Faerie admitted, “I was ashamed of my scars, and ashamed of my own inability to tell you. I mean, I’m supposed to be the brave one in this relationship! I’m supposed to support you, protect you, keep you safe and loved! And I’ve survived so much, and yet I’m afraid of showing you a few little scars.”

“It’s okay to be scared, my love.” Lily replied, “it’s okay to be vulnerable, and you don’t need to protect me. And how I see it, these scars tell a story. One of pain and fear and confusion and doubt, but also one of hope and love and triumph. They tell a story of a challenge you were able to overcome and the way it changed you for the better.”

Elder Faerie looked at his girlfriend lovingly, feeling himself start to tear up again. “I love you so much…”

“I love you more~” White Lily replied in a cheerful, sing-song tone of voice, “now c’mon, once you touch the water you’re going to love it.”

White Lily grabbed her lovers hand and started to pull him towards the water. Elder Faerie happily followed, quickening his pace so that he could walk next to her. Once they reached the water, White Lily dipped her toes in, Elder Faerie following suit. Then White Lily playfully kicked water at him.

“Hey!” Elder Faerie said through giggles. Putting his hands up defensively, he kicked water at White Lily as well, earning a giggle and a similar response from White Lily. Soon, the tension between them had melted away, and it was as if their sad yet intimate moment had never happened. The two were playing like kids, giggling and splashing each other, swimming out into the deeper parts of the water, and even exploring the nearby coral reef, White Lily of course having to wave hello to all the cute little fish that swam past them.

Soon, hours had passed by, and by the time they had dried themselves off and loaded their stuff back into the car, the sun was setting behind them.

“Today was amazing,” Elder Faerie gushed, “you were right, that beach is amazing.”

“I told you, that beach changed my life,” White Lily agreed, “I know it’s just sand and water, but that beach is the reason I decided to explore the world, and we both know what would’ve happened if I had never traveled.”

Elder Faerie chuckled lightly. “Well, you did travel, and we met, and we fell in love, and now we’re married, so it doesn’t matter.” He hesitated for a moment, then added “Maybe we should go there more often. Maybe even invite my little brother and his son when they visit.”

White Lily smiled softly and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“That would be amazing…”

Taglist: @janayuga @katsunemillennium @trustymikh @c00kietin @tartelongan @cedric-my-beloved

[omegaremix]

Record Store Victory Tour, 2018.

Having three shoulder operations to beat cancer has been the ultimate life victory thus far. It was the most amazing and largest outpouring of support ever. Friends, family, allies, co-workers in good-standing, and even names whom I haven’t seen or heard from in years came to congratulate me and wish me onto a speedy recovery. I don’t know if nine months is what you call “speedy”. Nine months of shoulder replacements, ten weeks of in-home nurse visits, a MRSA infection, six weeks of in-home intravenous antibiotics, and missing two label showcases were balanced out with staying up until 4AM every morning finding endless music (Negril, Robert Ashley, and Steve Khan to name a few), daily postings, heavy amounts of sleep, and Dad’s daily deliveries of free food full of steak, sushi, pizza, chicken, egg rolls, and pasta. With a nine-month blackout period of not leaving the house ever, you had to make the best of it. I knew that after this I would never ever answer to any random nobody about my shoulder. And looking back at it, I say to myself as to why I even let it go so far.

Working for a great company and playing your cards right, you could sit and collect benefits while staying at home doing almost next to nothing. I now had more money in the bank when I last left work. So I promised myself that after I fully recover, I’d treat myself like I never had before. I decided that I would go on a record-store victory tour. I would hit up each and every independent record place, go crazy, and buy up everything I can. After nine months of being bed-ridden and staying home, I needed to treat myself with retail therapy. I needed to get out there and be myself again. Of all I been through and endured, I deserved it.

I didn’t immediately do it, however. It took me a few months to earn back the $2,000 I lost in savings when the benefits ended. While that happened, I enjoyed hot August days walking from my house to the veteran’s park and back, witnessed my ex- Yenny get married, attended Hospital Productions’ 20th Anniversary showcase (a day I will never forget), had a night out in my neighborhood Dave & Busters with my co-workers, and started getting in touch with a Brooklyn witch. I made two label orders with Italians Do It Better and RRRecords which help things get started. As you see, it only got better.

February came and we got a surprise $1,000 from our company. Tax refunds and a third paycheck of the month sealed the deal and all systems go. My first stop was at Patchogue’s Record Stop, their new location since moving from their Shirley warehouse, and thumbed through whatever old-school hip-hop, 12” singles, and other small easy victories I could find. It wasn’t until places like West Sayville’s Vinyl Paradise was when spending three hours minimum searching in stores and $200.00 a visit on music was normal. I can also count West Babylon’s Looney Tunes, Mineola’s Mr. Cheapo’s, and Amityville’s High Fidelity who could’ve matched the totals I had from that store. It’s all about finding the most for less. Whether it’s Seventies’ jazz / fusion on vinyl, discount 12” singles, used CDs, dollar hardcore / punk 45’s, or other long-awaited finds, amassing history and style points is the most self-serving and exciting hunt I take part of. Other stores such as Northport’s Record Reserve, Massapequa’s Infinity Records, Riverhead’s Sunday Records, and Rosie’s Vintage (the smallest of them all) allowed for tidier spaces and friendlier prices for me to walk out with, with smaller receipts ranging from a mere $30.00 to $100.00.

Of course, with many victories come disappointments. Plainview just opened a new store called Vinyl Bay 777. It’s one of the cleanest and shiniest stores on the island, but also the most expensive. With a penchant for ambition and grading, their selections are anywhere from three to five times the price of what you’d find in others store. It was the only experience of the tour that I left feeling poor and let down. The other disappointment? Innersleeve Records all the way at the East End / Amangansett. Why? I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to go.

And almost every store have their own legacy. Record Stop’s been around since 1974 starting in Ronkonkoma, then shuffling to a warehouse in Shirley before finally settling in Patchogue. The family-owned and highly-awarded Looney Tunes had survived a summer fire and took them 90 days to rebuild. This year they’ll celebrate their 50th anniversary. Mr Cheapo’s has two locations, the only store on the island to do so. High Fidelity moved to larger and cleaner digs which solved their storage issues. Record Reserve just moved again; their fourth time in ten years of operation. Infinity Records was the only store on the ropes during the pandemic relying on crowd-funding to make up for the rent. Rosie’s Vintage isn’t owned by Rosie. In fact, Rosie doesn’t exist. It’s a rockabilly wife named Thea who owns an antique store. And you can’t get any literal than Sunday Records, which is only open on Sundays. It’s the only store I know who classified their records not on genre but radio stations and chart positions.

The entire experience was great and I looked to do it again the year after. Unfortunately, I had lots of traffic tickets, fees, and violations to pay. With a vehicle in disrepair and an expired inspection, driving out in daylight without the police spotting me was not ideal. Then I looked to do it last year, and we all know what happened. The pandemic paralyzed and killed businesses left and right. With immediate closures and stop of life, everyone stayed home for their lives.

Next time, it’s going down.

Essential money was saved all throughout the pandemic. Two stimulus checks later, a third on the way, tax refunds, a third bi-weekly check in April, and a bank transfer means I’m ready to do it all over again. In fact, it’s already started! Rough Trade announced it’s relocating from its’ Williamsburg spot. With 25% off books, merchandise, and CDs, it was an incentive to get to it. With me waiting forever to go, now was the chance. I found the perfect March Wednesday to do it and I finally made it happen. What you’ll read later on became the most expensive purchase I ever made at a record store, and also the greatest.

Most locations (except Vinyl Bay 777, replaced by any given one New York City store) are on the list for the next record-store tour. I healed mostly from last summer’s depression and I had a trouble-free winter. With a day out at Williamsburg’s Rough Trade, the spring euphoria and hope came back like it did the first time around. With money in the bank, vaccines, and everything coming back into play, it’s time to have fun again like I want to.

For those who can’t be harassed by looking up our series and reading our visits one-by-one, here’s the final results of 2018’s tour:

Record Stop:

Sugarhill Gang “The Lover In You” 12”

Grover Washington Jr. Mister Magic

Carmen McRae In Person

U.T.F.O. “Roxanne, Roxanne” 12”

Ahmad “Back In The Day” 12”

DJ Yella “4 Tha E” 12”

L.A. Style “James Brown Is Dead” 12”

Knucklehedz “Hed Rush” 12”

Flatlinerz “Live Evil” 12”

Blondie “Rapture” 7”

Chemical Brothers Come With Us

Royal Trux Thank You

Delerium ft. Sarah McLachlan & DJ Tiesto “Silence”

Prime Minister Pete Nice & Daddy Rich “Rap Prime Minister & Daddy Rich (Rat Bastard)” 12”

Vinyl Paradise:

Laura Nyro Christmas And The Beads Of Sweat

Genesis Invisible Touch

Clash, The Black Market Clash 10″

Delegation The Promise Of Love

Herbie Hancock “Rockit”

B-52’s, The Wild Planet

Blondie Parallel Lines

Spyro Gyra Catching The Sun

Brecker Bros. self-titled

Herb Alpert Rise

Heart Dreamboat Annie

Tom Scott Blow It Out

Pat Metheny American Garage

Martha Velez Escape From Babylon

Stanley Turrentine Have You Ever Seen The Rain?

Bob James & Earl Klugh One On One

Sister Sledge All-American Girls

Black Moon “Who Got The Props?” b/w “Fuck It Up”

Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock “It Takes Two”

Shannon Let The Music Play

Jellybean “Wotupski?”

Fu-Schnickens “Sum Dum Monkey” b/w “Visions (20/20)”

Tortoise & Autechre “Adverse Camber” b/w “To Day Retrieval”

Shirts, The Inner Sleeve

Freedom U.S.A. Hardcore

Coke Bust Confined

Ressurection I Am Not: The Discography

Spit It Out self-titled

Vice Flawed

Terror The Walls Will Fall

This Is Hell Bastards Still Remain 

Subterfuge Fight Back 

Bikini Kill self-titled single red 7″

Hangman A Vile Decree 

Dead Kennedys “Nazi Punks Fuck Off!” (with lyric bag and armbands)

Until Your Heart Stops We Are Not Coming Down

Corrective Measure self-titled

Soft Cell “Tainted Love”

Kraftwerk “Pocket Calculator” b/w “Dentaku” clear yellow 7”

Six Weeks label America In Decline CD

Tear It Up The December 2000 Sessions CD

Dee Cracks “Be My Valentine” red heart-shaped flexi

This Means War “Use It Up” flexi

Broadcaster b/w Aspiga (Secret Audio Club Wax Pack)

Marathon b/w Fire When Ready(Secret Audio Club Wax Pack)

Looney Tunes:

Up In Arms / Eternal Youth split 7”

Defiant Trespass / Cold Like December split 7”

Make Or Break Down For Life! 7”

Arcadius / 7654 Stories split 7”

Pissed Jeans demo 7”

Search Bloc Life, By The Code 7”

Proud Youth Nothing’s Changed 7”

UN Bodies Unremarkably Mortal 7”

Force Of Change The Bond We Share 7”

Self Defense Family “Indoor Wind Chimes” b/w “Cottaging”

Tolerate self-titled 7”

Joe South & The Believers “Walk A Mile In My Shoes” b/w “Trespass”

Bread And Water / Reason Of Insanity split 7”

Stigmata There Is No Mercy Here 7”

Degenerats, The 7”

Monster X 1993 demo 7”

Last Dead Word 7”

Let It Burn From Jersey With Love 7”

Slak Another Disaster 7”

Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These” 7”

Toni Basil “Mickey” 7”

Squeeze “853-5937″ 7”

Nena “99 Luftballons” 12”

Staple Singers City In The Sky

Unsung Heroes “What Would You Do?” 12”

White Mystery self-titled

D.S. 13 Vad Vet Vi Om Kriget?

Killing Joke Brighter Than A Thousand Suns

Marc Hurtado & Vomir 2011 / Sang+

Razed In Black Shrieks, Laments, And Anguished Cries

No Future Plan Of Attack

Die Krupps & Front Line Assembly Remix Wars

Maldoror She

Self Defense Family Heaven Is Earth cassette

Unholy Archangel The Wrath Of Kosmostistis cassette

Tod Hate Campiagn, Hymn To The Death cassette

Krieg Blue Miasma cassette

Hekseri The Atrocity (Early Demos) cassette

Crebain Under Black Wigs Of Night cassette

Riddle Of Meander End Of All Life And Creation cassette

Black Flame Torment And Glory cassette

Xasthur self-titled cassette

Krieg Songs For Resistance cassette

Striborg A Procession Of Lost Souls cassette

Tod Black Metal Manifesto cassette

Cheapo's (Commack):

Blackbyrds, The Action

Deodato 2

Jon Lucien The Best Of…

Bob James 2

Hubert LawsRomeo & Juliet

Deodato Love Island

Rolling Stones Undercover (stickered)

Bob James 3

Deodato Whirlwinds

George Benson White Rabbit

Bob James 4

Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth Mecca & The Soul Brother

Jedi Mind Tricks Legacy Of Blood

Naughty By Nature self-titled

M.I.A. Arular

P.O.S. Never Better special edition disc

Unseen, The Explode

Richard Hell & The Voidoids Blank Generation

M.I.A. Kala

All Dogs 7”

Last Shop Standing DVD

Katt Williams The Pimp Chronicles Vol. 1 DVD

Jerky Boys, The Stop Staring At Me cassette

Paula AbdulForever Your Girl cassette

Record Reserve:

Cars, The Shake It Up

Rolling Stones, The Some Girls (cut-out)

Peter Gabriel Melt

Weather Report Heavy Weather

A Clockwork Orange motion picture soundtrack

Genesis Abacab

Laura Nyro self-titled

Stranglers, The IV

Samantha Fox I Wanna Have Some Fun

Spyro Gyra self-titled

Cars, The Candy-O

Peter Gabriel Scratch

Debbie Gibson Out Of The Blue

Spent Idols “Chinese Suicide” b/w “Gacy’s Gone” 7″

Out Cider D.C. label Raise The Flag: DC Hardcore Vol. 1 7″

High Fidelity:

Prurient & Kevin Drumm  All Are Guests In The House Of The Lord

KMD  Mr. Hood

Sonic Youth   Evol

Algiers  self-titled

ESG  A South Bronx Story deluxe disc

No Age   Nouns

Greymachine Disconnected

Killing Joke   Hosannas From The Basements Of Hell

Television   Marquee Moon expanded disc

Esther Phillips  Capricorn Princess

Severed Heads  Cuisine With Piscatorial

Elastica  self-titled

Sonic Youth & Mats Gustavsson & Merzbow  SYR8

Killing Joke  Pandemonium

Eric Gale  Multiplication

Front Line Assembly  Echoes

Wavves  King Of The Beach

Strawberry Switchblade  Since Yesterday 12”

Bjork   Telegraph

Public Image Ltd.  Second Edition

Esther Phillips  Performance

Hatebreed  The Rise Of Brutality

Killing Joke  Night Time

Wilbert Longmire  Champagne

Grover Washington, Jr.  A Secret Place

Young Black Teenagers  “Tap The Bottle” 12”

Sagat  “Funk Dat” 12”

Crash Crew   “Breaking Bells (Take Me To The Mardi Gras)” 12”

Prurient   Pleasure Ground

Victory Records  Victory Style II

Esther Phillips & Joe Beck  For All We Know

Sonic Youth  Confusion Is Sex + Kill Your Idols

Swell Maps  A Trip To Marineville

Severed Heads   Rotund For Success

Whodini  Escape

Killing Joke   Revelations

Stop The Violence Movement, The  “Self-Destruction” 12”

Eric Gale  Part Of You

Professionals, The   “The Magnificent” 7”

Guyana Punch Line  self-titled 7”

Heart   self-titled cassette

Infinity Records:

Self Defense Family “Self Immolation Family” b/w “World Virgins” 7”

Peter Gabriel Security

Mantronix The Album

Eric Gale Forecast

Arsonists As The World Burns

Beat Street motion picture soundtrack

Kool & The GangLight Of Worlds

Dire Straits Making Movies

Shirts, The Street Light Shine

Belinda Carlisle Belinda

Makers, The Rock Star God

Bug, The Infected

Peter Gabriel Car

Filter Short Bus

Warzone Fight for Justice

Mood Doom

Jane’s Addiction Nothing’s Shocking

Depeche Mode Ultra

Curve Cuckoo

Rosie's Vintage:

Genesis Abacab

Nice & Wild “Diamond Girl” 12″

Shabba Ranks “Mr. Loverman” 12″

Dire Straits self-titled

Mad Skillz “Nod Factor” 12“

Boogiemonsters “Recognized Thresholds Of Negative Stress 12″

Blahzay Blahzay “Danger!” 12″

Harold Faltermeyer “Axel F” 12“

Spyro Gyra self-titled

Malcomb McLaren & The World Famous Supreme Team “Buffalo Gals” 12″

Sunday Records:

Cabaret Voltaire  The Arm Of The Lord

Nitzer Ebb As Is

Strawberry Switchblade  Who Knows What Love Is?

Steve Jones  Mercy

Patti Smith  Easter

Ramsey Lewis  Tequila Mockingbird

Doors, The  Greatest Hits

Cabaret Voltaire  Drinking Gasoline

Utah Saints “Something Good”

Image In Vogue self-titled EP

Steely Dan  Pretzel Logic

No Age  Losing Feeling

Dead Or Alive “Brand New Lover”

Cabaret Voltaire  The Drain Train

Public Image Ltd. “Home”

Gary Numan “Cars” / “Metal”

Malcomb McLaren “Soweto” b/w “Zulu’s On A Time Bomb”

J. Geils Band “Centerfold” b/w “Rage In The Cage”

Fad Gadget “One Man’s Meat” b/w “Sleep”

Tony Basil “Mickey” b/w “Hangin’ Around”

Stray Cats “(She’s) Sexy + 17” b/w “Lookin’ Better Every Beer”

Madness “Our House” b/w “Cardiac Arrest”

Todd Rundgren “Hello It’s Me” b/w “Cold Morning Light”

No Age  Eraser 7”

Suzanne Vega “Luca” b/w “Night Vision”

Siouxsie Sioux & The Banshees “Hong Kong Garden” b/w “Night Vision”

Mr. Cheapo’s (Mineola):

Mic Geronimo “Masta I.C.”

Jemini The Gifted One “Funk Soul Sensation”

Hi-Tek “Hi Teknology”

Schoolly D “Livin’ In The Jungle” b/w “Gucci Again”

Richie Cole New York Afternoon

Dott & Night School Carousel split e.p.

Joe Beck self-titled

Chick Corea Return To Forever

Hank Crawford Hank Crawford’s Back

Steve Khan Tightrope

Tappan Zee label Best Of…

Shabba Ranks “Ram Dancehall” b/w “Original Woman”

D&D All-Stars “1, 2 Pass It”

Rayvon “No Guns, No Murder”

Doug E. Fresh & Beenie Man “Hands In The Air”

Black Moon “Black Smif-N-Wesson” b/w Smif-N-Wesson “Headz Ain’t Redee”

Goats, The “Burn The Flag” b/w “Typical American”

Little Shawn “Don Perignon”

Specials, The More Specials

Lee Ritenour The Best Of…

Steve Khan Arrows

Genesis Invisible Touch

Vacancies, The Tantrum

Nobodys, The Generation XXX

Easy Action Friends Of Rock & Roll

New Bomb Turks Scared Straight

Roots, The Do You Want More?!!!??!

Eric B & Rakim Don’t Sweat The Technique

Boogie Down Productions Edutainment

X Clan Xodus

Lords Of The Underground Here Come The Lords

Buckshot LeFonque self-titled

Channel Live Station Identification

Funkdoobiest Brothas Doobie

Method Man & Mary J. Blige “I’ll Be There For You” / “You’re All I Need”

GZA / Genius Liquid Swords

Milk Never Dated

Naughty By Nature19 Naughty III

Das EFX Straight Up Sewaside

Grand Puba 2000

Naughty By Nature Poverty’s Paradise

Ol’ Dirty Bastard Return To The 36 Chambers (dirty version)

George Michael Faith

Vinyl Bay 777:

(No purchases.)

[alorhna]

Forbidden Fruit

༻✧༺

It was a normal day, or night. Maybe.

I couldn’t tell anymore, the hours began to blur together.

Atleast when I was in the tower, I could see the dawn shine in, and the stars when the sun went to bed. But in this gloomy basement, (or what I at-least think is the basement) I couldn’t tell what time it was, or how long I’d been here to begin with.

The only way I knew days were passing was when Kylar brought me that tray of food, and asked his dull questions.

‘How are you?’

‘Are you hunrgy?’

It was amusing how he seemed to hang on to every word I said, no matter how small or insignificant.

He reminded me of the baby foxes that dwelled in the moors.

Kylar must have felt so proud to take me down and keep me in this gloomy place. But his binding is poor, I could have freed myself at any moment and run for the hills if I wanted.

‘So why didn’t I…’

It’s a question that’s been eating at me for weeks.. days?.. hours. Eh.

There’s something familiar about Kylar, about this place. I just can’t put my finger on it.

The scraping of steel on stone floor caught my attention. My little green eyed fox had come to feed me. Adorable.

Kylar looked off however, more fidgety. Well, more than normal anyway.

“What’s wrong” I ask, my voice felt raspy, I hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I-I’m sorry” Kylar stutters and fidgets. Hopping From one foot to another. “I shouldn’t have done this to you- your my girlfriend.” His voice is full of grief as he quickly begins to unfasten my binds.

“I just.. I.. I don’t know what came over me.” He says, looking down onto the floor.

I shrug and stretch my tired limbs, it’s been forever since I could move. I moan softly as my aching muscules stretch and pop.

When I look at Kylar he still has that saddened expression. I sigh and give him a wry smile. “It’s in the past..alright?” I say calmly. “Just don’t do it again.”

At that he nods, quite quickly.

Kylar then proceeds to lead me out of where I assume is the basement and into another room on a higher floor. He has a few clothes laid out in front of me. Their gothic. Quite fitting for the ambience of his home, I suppose.

Once I’ve finished dressing, I twirled in my black dress. It was quite comfortable, surprisingly so. the clothes were strangely my exact size.. but then again this was Kylar, if anyone would have my measurements memorized it would most likely be him.

After we finish dressing Kylar urges me to hurry as he leads me out of that room and back into the hallway; he’s very excited and anxious. He kept mumbling about introducing me to some people close to him.

Family maybe? I wasn’t fully aware, I was slightly distracted by the grandeur of the halls. Kylars home wasn’t the cleanest by far but it was definitely spacious, the inside reminded me of some of the larger houses I had visited on Danube street when I ran errands or did odd jobs from time to time.

As we passed a corner in the hall, my sharp eyes are drawn to a large portrait; a painted one, must have been expensive by how exquisite and well-kept it looked.

It was a depiction of a tall, lanky man with green eyes, and grey beard he had pale skin with stylishly slicked hair. In a chair next to him, was a beautifully voluptuous woman, with brown skin, jet-black hair soft pink eyes. And seated on her lap was a hyper child with a bright smile who seemed to be the perfect combination of his parents traits: With his brown skin, bright green eyes and black hair, it was..Kylar.

With how young Kylar looked the painting, it must have been done years ago. Though Kylar didn’t look as if he’d grown much. Sure he was endowed in.. certain places and his features were sharper, but when it came to his height he’d barely grown more than a few feet and he was quite lean, almost unhealthy. It made me wonder at times if he ate healthy portions of food.

In honest comparison when I first met Kylar I thought he must’ve been from a different year, due to this. but no, he was in the same classes as the rest of us.

He was just small.

My eyes kept drifting back to the painting, and how Kylar changed from such a bright smiling child to the timid boy I know today. What could have happened..?

I found myself staring once again at Kylar’s mother and I scowled slightly as I tried to force my eyes away. But no matter how much I tried to keep my eyes and thoughts focused, I kept finding myself staring at the woman in the portrait.

She…-she looked just like me. Or perhaps, I looked like her.

The feeling that spread through me at that moment was unsettling.

And as Kylar finally managed to pull my attention away from the portrait I noticed something else. his brown complexion, dark-black hair…

If I hadn’t known better, I’d say we could pass off as siblings. But that couldn’t be. I was an orphan.

I had to be…

But then winters ramblings drifted into my mind.

Rambling of history and artifacts.

Of the temples background and of the tragedy that became of the previous ‘believers’ of the faith along with their disappearance.

Of a fallen aristocrat family and the sacrilegious sin they committed decades ago.

Of the broken visions in the hookah parkour; of mayor Quinn and his dealings with Bailey and the mysterious entity keeping him hostage in that strange forest.

Of ivory and the way they stalk the streets for their missing children stolen by Quinn each time the rain passes through elk street.

Of sweet, kind, Sydney, of our holy promise. And of the dark demeanor he keeps hidden lest someone tempt his wrath.

There were dozens of mysteries in this strange town. But right now, beyond all of them; there was two things I was 100% sure of.

Firstly, The numerous incidents in this town were connected. And somehow I was at their epicenter.

And secondly…

This has all happened before.

༻✧༺

WELP!

That was part two, of forbidden fruit.

These writing scenes are part of the backstory between Kylar and Alorhna and their relationship. As well as hints of the future mysteries Alorhna will begin to dive into the more she explores the town and its residents.

And if it wasn’t already obvious by the hints, and my previous posts: in my AU Kylar and Alorhna are Half-siblings.

I also have some more mature scenes planned for Alorhna and Kylar ||aka their gonna fuck- (and have kids eventually) it is what it is|| in the future despite this.

if that makes you as a reader uncomfortable your free to go at any time, my content is about DOL (and that game isn’t for everyone and if you don’t like it that’s fine!) as well as my own personal ideas and writing which I will admit are weird AF, but I’m here to post art and writing and to just have fun, so if you don’t like it your free to go.

But for those who are curious and like what I post stick around cuz I got more planned for Alorhna and the rest of the LI’s >:D

[cherubchoirs]

I just imagine when the ferryman moved in it went a little something like this

Ferryman walks in sees the terrible home improvement that Gabe and v1 had attempted at their fraud apartment.

Ferryman immediately: ah hell naw I gotta fix this shit.

Like my man is horrified and immediately gets to work.

(see this!)

OH yea gabriel and v1 are certainly not carpenters or interior designers, despite gabe having some distant past of helping build heaven in the first place - he says it doesn't transfer well to hell since it's been EONS since he did that and also. there were a lot of other angels around and a lot of magic involved and hell is HARDLY made of gold and sapphire, while v1 just keeps asking when it can "use the sledgehammer". so it's not the cleanest job, much more just patching up walls and ceilings to make it livable, which means the ferryman definitely has a lot to handle when they arrive. they enjoy the work though, happy they can do so much for their hosts and finding comfort in it besides - not just staying busy itself, but it's also nice to create a home for someone. the little drone likes following close behind them too when it's not busy patrolling, its chirps making for nice company as they methodically transform the apartment with the constant input of gabriel and v1 (at odds more often than not) but given their current situation, they're grateful for a project this demanding

[jadewritesficshere]

Falling For You

Robin Buckley x Reader

You aren't really in this. It's just Robin thinking about you.

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

The apartment was a mess. There was last night's pizza box still on the coffee table in the living room, random VHS tapes stacked haphazardly on the floor in front of the TV, and tons of empty water bottles scattered by the couch. "How did we let it get this dirty?" Robin grimaced before running to the kitchen to grab a trash bag. Steve scoffed and looked up from his magazine," Robs, this is the cleanest it's been in weeks." Robin ignored him, picking up trash and straightening things that were already straightened. "She's been here before, it isn't like she's never seen our place," Steve mumbled returning to his magazine. "This is different, what if she thinks we're messy? What if she thinks we have too much trash, or or that we are trash! What if-" Steve hums as Robin continues.

This was a weekly routine. Robin would freak out that the place was too messy (it never was because Steve keeps things cleaned, she jokes that he's the perfect housewife). Robin would then rush to clean everything, working herself up into a panic; meanwhile, Steve would sit there and try to calm her. Steve knows you wouldn't mind a little trash, I mean he has seen the floorboards of your car.

Ever since Robin and Steve moved in together, they had all the older teens over on Wednesdays. Sometimes everyone could come, other times only one person could. The offer was always open regardless. You were almost always there, the few times you hadn't been you either A) had been called into work by your "asshole" boss, or B) sick. Each week you hung out with the group, and each week Robin felt herself fall more in love.

Robin knew she had a crush from the moment you two met. Eddie introduced you to the group, you had been his neighbor at the trailer park. You had smiled brightly at her. She stumbled over her words and made a complete fool of herself, and you just laughed and went along with it. You didn't make her feel dumb, and you didn't roll your eyes and dismiss her like others had. You included her in the conversation and actually listened to her. At the end of the night you waved good bye and winked at her before climbing into Eddie's van. She had stood starstruck watching as you two argued over something, watching you lean over and hit Eddie in the arm as he laughed. Steve had to drag her inside, otherwise she would have stood there all night watching the spot you had been, even once you left.

She was utterly captivated by you. You complimented her outfits, you would grab her hand when walking in a crowd (so she wouldn't wander and get lost but hey she could pretend it was for other reasons), and you would always listen to her, even when she went off on long tangents. You claimed you weren't smart, but you were absolutely brilliant in her eyes. You were hardworking and dedicated, becoming the youngest manager at the grocery store (even if you had an "asshole boss"). You were knowledgeable about different things, you could recite the entire periodic table (which you always reminded her was because your chemistry teacher sucked and you did it to spite him) as well as the different parts of the body (this you thought was actually fascinating). Steve thought it was creepy the different true crime facts you knew, but Robin thought it was amazing (she may or may not have tried reading some true crime to impress you and have something to talk about but freaked herself out because it reminded her of when they were at the Russian base and getting tortured).

Robin knew she was a goner when one winter night, you choked on a marshmallow from your hot cocoa. Robin freaked out,"Don't die oh God please don't die I knew I should have made Steve buy the mini marshmallows this is my fault please live what do you do for choking people the arm thrust thing oh God okay-" she jumped up and wrapped her arms around your stomach in order to do the Heimlich. Before she could, you coughed and were fine. You put your hands on her arms that were around your body, looked back at her, and said," I think I may have just died cause I see an angel." As Robin turned red, she knew she was done for.

Robin shook her head of these thoughts as she continued to throw trash away. What Steve didn't know was that tonight wasn't just any night. Tonight was the night Robin was going to ask you out. She wanted everything to be perfect. She didn't have flowers or chocolates. She didn't have a way to protect you if people found out and weren't the "friendliest" (she was terrified that being with you could hurt you but she was also selfish enough to want that chance of being with you). She didn't have money. She could speak multiple languages but she couldn't find the right words to say. The only thing she had was herself, and she hoped that would be enough.

[swordbisexual]

shaxibis + the fool?

The Fool: (Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit)

Shady Grove, my little love

Shady Grove, I say

The words of the rest of the ballad don’t matter much. A chorus is always more than enough for walking, when the dust of the road starts to cake your boots and the sun’s burning the same place at the back of your neck that it has been for days on end. Sometimes, the same words over and over are a comfort of their own; a marching tune that keeps the feet moving forward, a sweet little note of longing that reminds a soul of what’s always at the end of the road when a journey’s done.

But sometimes, Shaxibis slips up, “Shady Grove” turning to “Matty Groves,” the words she learned at her mother’s knee turning and twisting her tongue before she can think of what she’s saying.

I’d rather kiss dead Matty’s lips

Than you in your finery

It’s fine, of course. It’s the same tune, and what’s a world without a little heartache?

She’s walking the road out of Reithwin Town, already blooming with the tender shoots of a sweet spring’s growth after a hundred years without. It lightened her spirit to see the children practically swarming over Halsin, just as he described at the strange little party along the strange little riverbend where, twelve months ago, she began a strange, not-so-little journey.

Peaches in the summertime, apples in the fall

If I can’t have the one I love, I won’t have none at all

(There. That’s better.)

Strange, all of it’s been, but nothing as strange as the gathering she attended not five nights past. She still smarts with the twinges of regretful longing that hung over the whole camp. Astarion was the most familiar face of them all; he’s decent for a drink, when the sun’s gone down, and always circles back to the Gate, no matter where his own road takes him. The rest were like to strangers: Lae’zel, glimmering and shifting at the astral edges; Shadowheart, a brighter and happier light than ever before, but still more fond of animals than people; Wyll, as fierce a monster-slayer as ever, though with Karlach’s absence weighing on him; and Gale, who… well.

I’d put it down on a golden plate

And give it all to you

They’re all changed, some for better, some for worse. 

Shaxibis still doesn’t know which she might be.

“I won’t come with you,” she said, when Gale made the offer to bring her back to the heavens. Of course it had been tempting; she’s wanted a new start for so long, even before she was swept up in the nautiloid, and it might have been the cleanest, easiest path.

(One step, two, on we go, walk the road ahead.)

I’m bound to go away

And just like that, she’s on the hill above Rivington, with the Gate a line of shadows in the mist-filled morning.

Here. Here is home, with streets and stones swept and scrubbed clean by her own hands in the months since the Absolute crumbled and scattered to the winds. Here, she can sing her songs, turned and twisted as you please, the road and the journey’s end all at once.

With a smile, Shaxibis tumbles forward down the sharply sloping path.

There’s no place in this whole world

That’s prettier than mine

[cyberrat]

74th Batch Of Fics: 4th Fill

Hanzo/Cole – Trucker AU – Epilogue – Will there be a Happily Ever After?

Can't believe Trucker AU is over :') it was very fun to write!

---

What did it mean when Cassidy had protected a stranger like Hanzo the same way that he had protected the man that had turned his life around so many years ago?

Hanzo looks away with a derisive click of his tongue. “He’s an idiot,” he says with bitterness in his voice.

“Sure is,” Reyes replies. He looks more satisfied now… as if he is happy with Hanzo’s reaction. “He’s already fucked it up big time. I don’t want to see him dead because of some yakuza flirt trying to get out of the gang life.”

Hanzo’s head snaps back around, heart immediately picking up in speed as he stares at Reyes. “How do you-”

He’s interrupted by the man all but crooning: “I’m not an idiot like the ingrate in my kitchen. I’m not going to do anything to you. Yet. I’m just saying that if he ends up dead in a ditch because of you – you won’t live for much longer after that, alright?”

Hanzo closes his mouth quietly. Their heads turn as Cole comes strolling back in, a beat up thermos of coffee in one hand and a few mugs in the other.

“Y’all done talkin’ bout me?” he asks in a lazy drawl.

Reyes scoffs softly but also doesn’t deny the accusation. In fact, he mildly replies: “Just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Hanzo does not say much during their stay with Gabriel Reyes. He thinks about what he has been told and just watches the dynamic between the two men. Reyes couldn’t seem more annoyed about their presence but there is just something about him that makes Hanzo feel like he is very pleased about Cole’s company.

To Hanzo’s surprise, he even bullies them into staying for the night. Cole puts up a pathetic little fight to get out of it but it’s obvious that he speculated on a proper bed for once and takes it after just a few back-and-forths.

The room itself is small but nice and clean. He has no idea how Reyes takes care of the place with that busted leg of his but as far as he can tell, the old guy has an unbreakable will and won’t be stopped by anything.

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands lightly brushing over the duvet. It occurs to him that it is the cleanest thing he’s been on since coming into the US in the first place. All he’s known are the passenger seats of trucks like Cassidy’s and dingy Motel rooms.

He listens to Cassidy in the bathroom. When he comes out, Hanzo looks up to see him with nothing but a towel around his hips. His hairy gut is hanging over it, probably keeping the thing in place.

Hanzo watches him as he moves around the room and is disturbed to find that he is turned on by the sight of him.

He frowns and looks down at his hands, curling them into fists and then relaxing once more.

Cassidy sits down next to him, his voice lowered so Reyes probably won’t hear them, wherever he’s gone off to now: “What’s goin’ on in that pretty li’l head o’ yours? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Hanzo keeps staring at his hands. The scent coming off of Cole is different than usual. He smells clean, for starters.

“I am thinking about where to go next.”

“What do ya mean? I got my route planned out already.”

“Yes. Your route. But what about mine?”

“... I ain’t followin’.”

Hanzo sighs deeply and looks up at Cole’s face. “We’re done here, aren’t we? You helped me find Genji just like I wanted you to. And I paid you plenty for your services.”

At that, Cole’s face becomes stormy. He throws out an arm, gesturing toward the door as he half-shouts: “The fuck did he say to you?!”

Hanzo narrows his eyes and turns his head away. “He just confirmed what I already knew: that you’re an idiot that has no sense for self-preservation and I’m not going to be the one that gets you killed, alright?”

There’s a few beats of silence as Cassidy ostensibly tries to wrap his few brain cells around what Hanzo just said. Then a heavy hand curls around the nape of his neck, fingers squeezing on either side just shy of painful.

“You want to leave because you’re worried about me?”

Hanzo bristles at the incredulousness in the other’s voice. He can feel a flush starting to crawl up his chest which he fights tooth and nail against.

Cole continues: “You do know I’m roughly double your age. Let me make my own damn decisions.”

Hanzo feels himself get pulled into Cassidy’s naked chest. He struggles against it but it is very half hearted.

“Fat bastard…” he mutters softly.

Cassidy does not reply immediately; he just keeps squeezing the back of Hanzo’s neck which is… surprisingly soothing.

Hanzo closes his eyes slowly and finds they are too tired to open up again so he simply listens to Cassidy’s heartbeat, calm and strong in his chest.

“Ya should stick to sellin’ your pussy for information if that’s the extend of your intelligence,” Cole mutters eventually. He starts to maneuver them around which ends in Hanzo pretty much lying on top of the old fool. Cassidy grunts softly and mutters something about Hanzo being way heavier than he looks but Hanzo elects to ignore that.

He tries to think about how disgusted he had been with the fat bastard upon meeting him and while that isn’t even that long ago, it’s not quite possible for him to get into the same mindset as he had been back then.

Cassidy is disgusting. He exploited Hanzo’s situation for sexual favors – unashamedly at that – and even let other people have at him.

…But it’s not like Hanzo didn’t enjoy it all. The degradation, the objectification… the simple life of being a cock warmer.

The fat bastard keeps muttering under his breath as he drags the blanket out from underneath them and then pulls it over Hanzo’s head, cocooning him into warm darkness.

Hanzo’s hand slowly brushes over the stiff little hairs on Cassidy’s chest and down to his belly, following the furry trail until he comes to the edge of the towel.

Slowly, he opens it up so he can curl his fingers around the warm shaft. It feels soft and spongy in his hand and weirdly comforting. Cassidy grunts above and, surprisingly enough, lets him be.

For a few minutes they just lie in silence before Cassidy says in a low tone of voice: “You’ll come with me.”

It’s worded as an order but the uncertainty in his deep voice makes it sound more like a question.

Hanzo inhales deeply and starts to relax in what feels like for the first time of his life.

“Yes,” he mutters into the darkness. “Yes, I will.”

[thegirlwondcr]

"Yeah, plus you get a ton of roommates." Which certainly had its mix of pros and cons. "But yeah, it's nice to be comfortable enough to leave my bag unpacked." No unexpected changes happening midweek, or adjusting to different routes to school. Everything was now far more constant, despite what some of those costs were. m

"Don't you have another kid?" Maybe that was a safer topic. Emma did not know that much of the other since the age gap was larger, but she did remember vaguely hearing the story of his parent's death. "He's like old though, isn't he?" Anyone above the age of eighteen was considered 'old' to her. "Does he still live with you?" Yeah, kids usually move out, but why would anyone want to move out of Wayne Manor? "Could be nice if you did things with him. That's something I probably would want if I were him." It was all assumptions but it didn't sound completely unreasonable. "You probably both shouldn't be alone right now." She did feel as if she was walking on thin ice, but he did look to give off miserable energy, whatever he currently doing to cope clearly did not seem like it was helping.

Goddamn, it was difficult to make small talk with a billionaire. She tried to remind herself to give him some grace because of what he was going through, but how was he possibly making any money as of late if any icebreaker seemed to fail? "Obviously, but it's still weird. Like having alcohol at Chuck E. Cheese." She compared it. She's been to one once with an old foster family several years ago. Looking back it was not the cleanest of places, but it still was one hell of an experience. Maybe socially she was deemed too old and cool to go to a kids arcade, but she would go back in a heartbeat if she could. "I think it's in some other room but there's a chocolate fountain and a cheese fountain." She had not seen it for herself yet but did catch sight of some of her friends carrying plates of small items of food covered in chocolate and cheese. Then again, why would a billionaire care about that? He probably has a hundred working in his house at present. "The food they have with it is weird. One of my friends had like a pickle and put cheese and chocolate on it? Oh--and one girl took one of the sandwiches and like drowned it in chocolate." Her face visibly cringed at the image, had they already run out of the normal items used for fondue?

🦇—-;; Bruce rose a brow at her response to what he said, even if it was a joke, it's not really something he's looking for right now. He certainly had no intentions of taking in another kid. Not yet at least. He did tilt his head a bit when she mentioned being moved her after being bounced around in the system a few times, doesn't surprise him, the Gotham foster system wasn't...well it wasn't great. "Hm, well, I suppose that's a bonus." He says.

What she said hadn't been anything bad, but talking about Jason just reminded him of the fact he's gone. Sixteen...and it's all his fault. Bruce took in a small breath, now wasn't the time to really fall into that spiral, even if he hasn't really left it since he'd come home from Ethiopia. He just wanted his son by his side again. Instead he'd done worse, and his other son was off in Blüdhaven, refusing to talk to him at all. Bruce can't really blame anyone but himself for that. "No, no...you didn't do anything wrong, dear...Jason's just a bit of a sore spot and afresh wound I'm still trying to heal from. Even good memories are a bit painful right now.." He really hoped that clarified why he didn't want to talk about it and that she realises she hasn't done anything wrong.

He takes a moment and he manages to mask his upset a bit better and he looked at the glass he had in his hand right now, it's just water. He looked at her when she mentions the food and he glances over at the table it was set up and and he shrugged a little, "I'm not particularly hungry...no offence to whoever put the time into making them, I...just don't feel like eating." He says easily and he shifts a little. "And there are adults here who can drink. I'm well over twenty-one." He's in his thirties and he certainly wasn't the only one, but there were more kids around. "Pretty sure the people serving it know not to give it to the kids in any case."

[lukeevangelista]

for nick night… him proposing and asking you to go to columbus with him?

1. not edited. i also don’t know why the spacing is weird af

2. pure fluff.

3. enjoy this pretty picture of this sweet boy before you read below the cut

i do - nick blankenburg

“have you talked to her yet?” nolan asked as the two walked into their house, throwing their hockey bags down for the last time.

the frozen four had just ended and the boys had just arrived back to ann arbor. nick had been in contact with multiple teams, and you knew this but he hadn’t shared which team he was going to end up with. he had an idea, but wanted to wait until everything was finalized and on paper. but nolan knew it all. nick had talked to nolan during everything, including the plans that included you.

nick wanted to marry you.

he knew that from the second date when he accidentally made laughed so hard while you were taking a sip of your drink, water spewing out of your nose.

he wanted to spend his life with you and he had already spent the last three and a half years with you after you finally agreeing to go out with the brunette.

“no, not yet. i’m waiting for the contract to be done before i say anything, because what if they decide they dont want me anymore?”

“nick, they’d be stupid not to want you.” nolan started, “and i’ll tell you now, that girl would follow you anywhere.”

“you really think so?” he asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, “i’m nervous to ask her to go with me. it’s such a far move. i don’t want to put her through too much.”

“nick. stop.” nolan laughed as they walked into the kitchen, seeing a couple others in there, “you’re overthinking it. just ask her and ask the damn girl to marry you. it’s time.” he finished.

“i do agree.” summers chimed in as he watched the shorter boy start to fidget, “you’ve literally been in love with her since freshman year.”

“before you had the balls to ask her out.” leavy laughed as summers smacked his shoulder, telling him to shut up.

“thanks guys.” nick rolled his eyes as he grabbed a bottle of water from their fridge, “i plan on talking to her later. they’ve sent the contract over; it’s just waiting for my signature.”

“so this is really happening?” garrett asked, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“this is really happening.” nick sighed, “i’m going to miss you guys so much.”

“you’re acting like you’ll never see us again.” summers replied, “youre not getting rid of any of us that easy, blanks.”

——————————

“you wanted to talk?” you asked as you entered his bedroom, it being the cleanest spot in the house.

“yeah,” he smiled as he stood up, walking over to you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “lets go for a walk.” he said, his nerves starting to take over.

“okay..” you trailed off, “why are you acting so… nervous?” you asked, watching his shove his phone in his pocket, you not knowing he had an extra item in his pocket.

“i’m not.” he shrugged as he walked out, you following him and shutting the door behind you. he was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a grin taking over his face. the two of you continued through the house and out the front door.

“it’s nice outside tonight. warmer than usual.” he spoke softly as the two of you continued down the sidewalk, him grabbing your hand, interlacing your fingers together, “you look beautiful too.” he smiled down at you.

a blush covered your cheeks as the two of you made small talk, asking how everything was going, him talking about how he was feeling about boston and everything else.

it didn’t take long for you two to reach the destination nick was trying to get to. it was a small little park that had a gazebo right in the center of the grass. it was the place he had asked you to be his girlfriend after a game. he had asked you to go, you obviously supporting him and going. they had won and he decided he wanted to spend time with you, rather than going out and partying with the boys.

“this place has so many memories.” you smiled as you two walked up the stairs, looking around at the lights they added to it. nick didn’t notice this at first, his eyes now glancing around taking in the lights, them adding perfectly to his plan.

“it does.” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, placing his lips on your temple, “it sure does. its crazy its been almost four years since we were last here.” he started, “i want to talk to you though.”

“go ahead.” you nodded at him.

“i got offered a contract.” he started.

“you what?” you squealed.

“it’s in columbus and i want you to go with me.” he grinned, “but not just as my girlfriend.” he continued as he knelt down on one knee, “but as my fiancé. y/n, i’ve been in love with you since before you finally agreed to go out with me on that date out of pity, and you stuck around. i don’t think i could live this life without you.” he trailed on, “so with that being said,” he let out a deep breath, “will you marry me?” he asked, a tear rolling down yours and his cheeks, you nodding immediately as he slid the ring on your finger. he grabbed your hand as he pulled himself up and grabbing you, wrapping his arms around you.

“will you go with me to columbus?”

“nick, there’s no one else i’d ever do this for.” you grinned, “hell yes.”

[barnesbabee]

collab || J.Y

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ 2 - ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

Summary: Two famous porn stars have a fun collab together.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x gn!reader

Words: Just enough

⚠ although there is no mention of gender, the reader wears makeup and lingerie, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don't read  ⚠

As Yunho dried his hair with a small towel, he heard the familiar ding sound from his social media. He had just finished uploading the edited version of his live stream, so it wasn't unusual for him to be contacted by a bunch of people right after, however, he didn't expect to see you.

You weren't well known in the porn scenario, as you were fairly new and the competition was vast, but your 'Around The World' series had become a huge success and a major hit for its originality.

Yunho was quite a fan of the series, so when he saw your message, his fingers were crossed.

Y/N: Hello! My name is Y/N, I'm not sure if you know my work, but I am a porn star that is currently doing a series called 'Around The World' where I... well, fuck people all around the world. My next stop is South Korea and I have seen your work before and I think our style is very similar and I would love to do a collab with you! Feel free to check out my work on my page, I hope to hear from you soon! xoxo

The tall man squealed like a high schooler getting a text from his crush, he's always wanted a collab and now he was about to get one in one of the biggest series of the moment!

Yunhxxx: Hello Y/N! I am aware of your series and I am a fan! I would love to do the collab with you! I'll send you my number so we can talk about the details more comfortably :)

Part of your anxiousness died down at his response. Most porn stars were very polite and kind in front of the camera, and in business discussion, all for that quick buck, but you'd find, with your series, that a lot of them were just assholes with a huge ego. You had a good feeling about Yunho, but you didn't want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed.

The arrangements didn't take long, as you were both excited for the collab to happen, making it very easy to communicate. Yunho was kind enough to offer his own home for you to sleep in, arguing that 'whoever fucks me gets to sleep in my house for free'.

Yunho spent the weekend preparing everything for your arrival on Monday morning: he cleaned his whole house, stocked his fridge and cabinets with all sorts of food, and sanitized every toy of his. By the time he received your 'I'm on my way!' text, his house was the cleanest it had ever been.

The man showered, put on his best cologne, and applied some dark eyeshadow under his eyes. As he stood in front of the closet in his briefs only, he wondered what he should go for. A sophisticated look? A sexy look? An outlaw-looking look? He wanted something to get you immediately attracted to him. Yunho wanted to make you feel good, not to make you act as if you felt good.

Ultimately he chose a black button-up and black suit pants. He decorated his long fingers (that he had come to learn was something many people liked about him) and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Yunho was aware of his innocent appearance. He had had his cheeks squeezed one too many times, so he caught on quickly. However, the man loved to play with his looks. He loved to make people wonder what kind of person he was, with a cute face, yet an intimidating look.

Before he knew it, his doorbell rang. Yunho took one last look in the mirror, just to make sure everything was in its place and walked towards the door. The first hello wasn't awkward at all, as you'd already had a few zoom calls to discuss what would happen in your collab, just to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

Once you stepped in with your suitcase, you couldn't help but notice how neat, modern, and well decorated his house was. The walls were white with big windows, and the furniture was a mix of grey, light blue, and white. Yunho lead you to the guest room where you'd be staying, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The bed was high and large, the duvet was grey with a bunch of fluffy white and red pillows decorating it. In front of the bed was a modern black vanity with lightbulbs around the squared mirror, and against the wall in front of the door was a black, sliding door wardrobe, with a large, orange, and red abstract painting of a couple. His house looked simple yet classy, with just the right amount of colour and decoration. You took a look at him, his dark look contrasting the house.

"You already got prepared?"

Yunho looked a little puzzled for a second, but then understood. "Oh! Oh no, you've just arrived, you must be tired! This is just... how I dress?" He said, feeling a little embarrassed.

You took a good look at his outfit.

"You always dress like that? Wow..."

Yunho's cheeks became a little red at the comment, and he stumbled over his words as he thanked you. He was used to receiving compliments when he had his clothes off, but with clothes on? Not so much... Before closing the door, Yunho told you to feel at home, and that when you were ready you could start setting everything up in the room he used to shoot.

The man had never felt that nervous, so when he finally closed the door, he immediately headed to his living room, and found the whiskey bottle he kept for emergencies. He poured a generous glass and sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you.

You were pretty much used to the routine, and since you had a stopover in a neighboring country and spent the night there, the trip hadn't been too tiring. You sat on the very convenient vanity and re-did your makeup. You liked to match your look to your type of content, so you went for a dark look: dark purple lipstick, a heavy, black smokey eye, and loads of mascara. You made sure to apply a lot, so it would run down your face and give the viewers the fucked out look they loved to see.

The lingerie matched your makeup: black lace lingerie with some bling here and there, and a garter belt to accessorize. You grabbed your robe from your suitcase and exited the room.

"Yunho?" You called, peeking your head from behind the wall.

"Hm?"

His eyes widened when he looked up. You were completely different from the person he had met.

"I am ready if you are!"

He nodded and stood up, downing the rest of his 2nd whiskey cup in one go. Yunho took you upstairs and opened the door to his 'studio'.

In the center of the room was a carpet, and a big, empty space behind it.

"I usually move the bed or the couch over there, depending on what I want to do that day. I found that it was easier to move the furniture than the whole set up." He explained, pointing at the empty space.

Against the wall, opposite of you, there was a bed, much like the one on your bedroom, and a nice, black leather couch. Beside you there was a closet, where Yunho kept all his toys, accessories, and streaming outfits. Other than that it was just the usual setup: a desk with a computer, professional lights, and a camera.

Yunho walked over to the couch and moved it with ease to the empty space.

"So we've already decided?" You asked.

The man smirked as if simply entering the room turned him into a completely different person.

"I already have everything planned out for you dear, it would be rude to have my guests work."

You blushed slightly, and sat on the couch, waiting for the green light.

You watched as he opened the closet, displaying his wide collection. He picked a bunch of stuff that he set on top of a towel on the floor.

"Alright, that's about it."

You cocked your head to the side, in confusion.

"You're not getting dressed?"

Yunho reached for the choker he had brought and softly placed it around your neck, tying it just tight enough. He hooked his finger on the big metal ring on the front and tugged on it. You followed his silent command and knelt on the ground, in front of the couch.

"I'm already dressed, for the concept we're gonna try."

You were getting curious and excited. You stayed still as he started up the live stream. Yunho turned on the lights, set up the camera, and pressed 'Start Live Video'. The screen counted down from five, until the live started.

Yunho sat on the couch behind you, and placed his large hand on your head.

The man smirked as soon as the comments started raining.

There was a mixture of fuck yeah's and happy cheers as they recognized Yunho, and became excited for what was to come. The live was obviously happening on your account, although you would always split the tips with the person you worked with.

"Hello," Yunho started, and you let him take the lead "welcome to the 24th edition of Around The World, I am today's guest, and we have such a great show for you today, don't we?"

Yunho tugged on your hair, making you wince. You looked at the camera and nodded.

The 30 dollar donation ding sounded, announcing that someone had made a request.

'Make her sit on your thigh'

You let Yunho take the lead once more, hooking his finger on your choker's hoop and pulling you up, to sit on his thigh. You hummed as you rolled your hips, causing friction between your core and his thigh. Your hand ran along his torso, feeling the fabric of his shirt.

"He has too many clothes, don't you think?" You asked the camera, in a flirty tone.

There was a rain of comments agreeing with you, and you immediately got to work, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. His dick print was already very visible in his pants, and you could now understand why he wanted to wear that look.

You removed his shirt, slowly and teasingly, as the viewers praised Yunho's toned body.

The male hooked his finger on your underwear and snapped it against your skin. Your little whimper at the sudden pain made him smirk.

Yunho ran his hands along your body, making you shiver from the cold metal of his rings.

Tips and donations rained down with many requests, and so you went back on the floor and laid your head on Yunho's thigh, your face mere inches away from his hard-on. You perked your ass up and traced the shape of his cock with your finger.

"What do you think? Should we reward them?" Yunho asked, petting your head as he stared into the camera.

As expected, everyone gave you the green light to continue, so you slowly opened his fly, to find he had no underwear on. You freed him from his pants, gripping his length in your hand. You kept eye contact with the male, and although you were a professional, you were always nervous when you had to take dicks on the bigger side.

You spat on his tip, and played with his cock for a second, before slowly inserting it in your mouth. Yunho groaned and threw his head back, taking in the warmth of your mouth. His hand was tangled in your hear, gripping it and tugging on it from time to time.

"Shit, you're doing so good..."

Yunho was very vocal, to your (and the viewer's) pleasure.

The 50$ notification ding sounded, and a message played right after.

'bby I wanna see you jump on his cock'

Yunho smirked and gripped your hair, in a firm, yet not painful way. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, cleaning the remaining saliva.

"Hmm, you know what, so do I."

You stripped from your underwear, in a sensual way for the viewers (and Yunho) to enjoy.

Yunho slapped his thigh, and you climbed onto his lap, slowly but surely sinking down on his length. You gripped onto his shoulders for stability and groaned as every inch of his cock disappeared inside of you.

His hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks in a beautiful way for the camera to see. The male helped you, as you rode him, not only by holding your hips and guiding you, but also by snapping his hips up against yours. Filthy slapping sounds along with the mixture of your moans echoed in the room, and the donations were reaching their peak.

"F-fuck baby you're s-so good, you're doing so well."

You gripped his shoulders harder, as his praises drew you closer and closer to your edge.

"They're c-close! Should we l-let them cum?"

It was impressive how professional Yunho was. How he looked so immersed in you, so tired and fucked out, with his fringe sticking to his forehead and eyes burning into your soul, yet he didn't forget to interact with the viewers.

There were many people leaning towards yes, begging to hear the way you sounded as you came, and so he worked hard until you screamed his name and tightened around his cock. He let you rest and recompose for a second, but the way you clenched around him made it impossible for him to hold it in any longer.

"Shit, get on the ground."

You gladly complied, and got on your knees for him, immediately sticking out your tongue, as you could predict what would come after.

Yunho jerked himself off to your fucked out face, and soon a string of curses came out of his mouth, as he spilled all over your face. He smirked and wiped some of his cum off of your face with his thumb.

"Say ah, pretty baby."

You smiled and opened your mouth. He inserted his finger in your mouth and you happily licked it clean.

Yunho cupped your face with his hand, and smiled.

"You behaved so well, I might have to reward you again."

His head tilted to the side, pointing to the couch, and you followed. You sat down on the couch, and Yunho knelt in front of you. His arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you forward, so your hole would be of easy access to him.

The man teased you, as his tongue danced around your hole, not quite getting where you wanted him. You rolled your hips up, earning a slap to your inner thigh.

He looked up at you, with a hint of darkness in his eyes.

"Behave."

It didn't take long for you to get what you wanted, as he started tongue fucking you, with the help of his fingers. You gripped his hair, and your back arched as your high approached once more.

You came quickly, with his tongue still inside you, and he held your trembling legs and body, to keep you stable.

He didn't move for a second, giving you time to breathe and rest. After you had recomposed yourself, he helped you up, and the two of you shared a heated kiss, Yunho's hands never leaving your ass, that he definitely had a fixation with.

You finished the stream by thanking the viewers and donors and shut everything off. Once everything was done, you sighed and plopped onto the couch.

"Do you not want to shower?" Yunho questioned, as he saw the mess in your face and body.

You chuckled.

"Yes I do, very much, but I'm so fucked out..."

Yunho very kindly scooped you up.

"Well, I wouldn't want my guest to work too hard, I'll help you out."

[bre-meister]

Pregnancy 19+Cleon

This is sort of connected to the last Cleon Pregnancy prompt I did so you can go here to read that if you would like.

Without further ado....

"Do you think I'll make a good father?" "The best."

After their late night talk - if it could even be classified as a talk - the topic of Leon and fatherhood hadn’t come up. Claire still knew, as she did that night, it would not stay that way forever. Her due date was just a few weeks away although Claire had been warned that babies tended to have minds of their own and their little one’s plan for their own arrival might not line up with theirs. 

The topic was finally realized on a calm Saturday. Leon, who had been working overtime lately so all of his work business would be in order by the time the baby arrived for him to take time off, for once had nothing to do for the day except dote on his wife and not yet born child. Claire was in a nesting mood and had decided they should spend the morning making sure all of the small onesies and burning clothes were folded neatly. And of course the mound of stuffed animals filling the corner needed to be arranged just perfectly.

Leon had been more than willing to help Claire in any way that she needed. So there he was, across the room dusting the high corners and shelves she couldn’t reach. Logically, she knew that the amount of dust that had gathered in the week since Leon had put the shelves up in the first place was probably minimal - she also knew that he knew that. She was grateful, however, to see him smiling and indulging her wishes. He had been very pensive lately. Claire suspected it was mostly due to his larger workload but she also knew his self-doubt was still brewing under the surface. 

“You know,” it was Leon who broke the peaceful silence they had been working in, “I think our little girl is going to have one of the cleanest rooms in the whole house.”

“And you know there is a fifty percent chance that our little girl might actually be a little boy?”

“I’m sticking with my gut on this one. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

Claire chuckled to herself before turning to fully face her husband.

“I think your gut can be wrong sometimes.”

Leon stopped his dusting to face her as well, signature cocky smirk in place. 

“Ok, I'll bite. Name one time my gut feeling had been wrong.”

“When your gut told you that you won’t be a good Dad,” Claire said plainly. 

Leon’s smirk fell almost immediately as he turned away from her once again fully wrapped up in his dusting.

“Yah well, I don’t exactly have that warm, paternal instinct you know?” he mumbled.

“That statement is so wrong in so many ways.”

Claire approached Leon slowly. Placing her one hand on top of his she squoze lightly until he put the duster down and looked at her once again.

“I remember the way you look after Sherry those few weeks after the raccoon. How you gave up your own freedom to keep her safe. How you still look after her to this day. How you look after me and everyone else you care about. Hell, Leon you risk your life all the time on missions protecting people you don’t know and will probably never meet. You can’t tell me someone like that wouldn’t do everything in their power to make sure our daughter is safe and loved. She's gonna be so lucky to have you as her Daddy, already is actually.”

Leon smiled slightly, moving their joined hands to rest on her bump between them.

“Do you really think I'll make a good father?”

“The best,” Claire spoke with all the sincerity and gusto she could muster.

Leon leaned down to kiss her and when they pulled apart she could tell that he was truly smiling now. Not ginning or smirking, the kind of smile he saved for her and, she suspected, their child. 

“You called her a she.”

“Yeah well, I thought maybe your paternal instincts might be right.”

“Like I said, my gut is usually right. And I have you for when it’s wrong.”

“Damn right.” Claire laughed into the next kiss they shared. Glad that Leon has finally seen how wrong his initial gut instinct was.

[whump-town]

The Traveling T-Shirt

No Pairings

No Warnings

It's just Morgan's t-shirt traveling through the BAU one person and story at a time

It starts with a coffee spill in Seattle. With Aaron, startlingly enough.

Six days in the rain and it seemed even their cleanest, driest clothing was damp with the chill from the constant downpour. Though, six days on their feet with clothing they’d already worn at least twice that week on their backs, they looked more and more “rag-tag” as the hours bore on. Even Hotch had lost his cookie-cutter charm. His white t-shirt crumpled where it was typically pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair wouldn’t stay gelled into the style he liked it in, leaving it fluffy and soft on the top of his head. He looked significantly less like SSA Aaron Hotchner and a lot more like Aaron.

Maybe he had lost SSA Hotchner somewhere along the days and victims because SSA Hotchner would never spill coffee on himself. But Aaron would and Aaron did.

Derek watched the whole thing take place, unable to take his eyes off of Hotch since the second that he walked in. Something about his tired zombie-like lurches just couldn’t break Derek’s curiosity and he had to know what would come out of Hotch’s current state. Despite the far-away look in Hotch’s gaze, the tired bags of discoloration under his eyes, Derek would not have predicted this as the outcome. Hotch is so out of it that all he can do is stare at the mess he’s created, glaring at the mess of coffee grounds across his less than pristine white dress shirt.

“Here,” Derek shakes his head, has to manually clear the fog occupying his brain. He pulls at the loose clump of napkins someone had left atop the coffee table for this exact situation, presses the mass into Hotch’s stomach. It feels akin to something else, distinctly deja-vu. Like he’s pressing into a wound, holding him together with nothing more than cheap napkins.

The physical contact brings Hotch back to the Earth and with a few blinks of his blood-shot eyes he sighs irritably and mumbles, “I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Derek would argue the one he’s currently wearing is not clean either. It’s got a few dots of red expo marker on the left elbow where Reid bumped into him, rambling quickly about his map and the geographical profile. On the cuff of his right sleeve, there’s something brown or black which could be something from a pen or an expo marker or something else he’s just stuck his hand in. God knows what else is on this shirt.

Hotch puts his hand over Derek’s, holds the napkins himself. Derek pats his shoulder, “it’s alright, man. I’ll get you a shirt.”

They could go just about anywhere and just buy him a shirt. It could be some looney graphic t-shirt from the boy’s sections of some store down the street or another white dress shirt to replace the one he’s wearing but Derek just gets one of his. It’s a light grey, the color worn down by how frequently Derek wears it. Where it fits Derek snugly, hugs his chest and back tightly, it fits Hotch oddly. Displays to them all just how right they were in the assumptions they have held about how his recent divorce is affecting him.

He’s lost weight.

Too much.

One thin grey Hanes t-shirt can’t fight off the chill and overtop it, covering his visible bones, Dave throws him a sweater. He stays buried in that sweater and shirt all day, long into the night as they go hunting out in the streets with flashlights. Rain comes down heavy and thick.

Dave gets his sweater back. Folded neatly and smelling of the distinct fabric softener Hotch uses, it makes his whole office smell nice and Dave nearly can’t bring himself to wear the thing again. Doesn’t want the scent to fade, every inch of that sweater is now stitched together with something more.

The t-shirt gets left at the bottom of a drawer, to be discovered months from now.

Emily finds it six nights after Foyet left Hotch in Saint Sebastion’s hospital held together by sugrical staples and the stubborn will to live. All of his clothing has been hunted through, his shirt drawer is nearly empty. JJ and Penelope had undertaken the job of finding Hotch clothing for the hospital -- anything that he could just slip his arms into without having to lift them above his head. The only things left in his drawers are regular t-shirts and jeans, meaning Emily doesn’t have a whole lot to pick through right now.

She hadn’t anticipated this need and as much forethought as she put into staying the night was assuming Hotch would have clothes she could steal. She hadn’t really thought she’d be here tonight but she doesn’t think she can leave him alone. Doesn’t think it would be kind of her as his friend to see him like this and still choose to leave him for the night.

She decides on a thin grey shirt that she finds, turning her nose up to his university t-shirts (as if she’d wear those) and a pair of sweat pants on his floor that she thinks are clean or at least don’t smell bad. It’s not the best but she came unprepared and she’s not going to complain, both are comfortable even if the pants are giant on her.

To her surprise, he’s still fighting off his meds. Hazy brown eyes blink open when she steps back out into the living room, following her as she comes to the couch. She’s careful, even if she does it nonchalantly, as she moves his legs a little so that she can sit down beside him. He’s stretched across the couch, too big so he’s pinched up in places, but he doesn’t want to sleep in his room. Stubborn like a child being asked to take a nap -- “but I’m not tired”.

“T’as not my shirt,” he mumbles into his blanket. He’s got the heating blanket pulled up his nose, wrapped tightly around his shoulders and hands.

Emily looks down at it and frowns. “Well, then who the hell else’s is it?” She reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table, turning it on without waiting for his answer. Clearly, she doesn’t care who’s it is, she’s not taking it off now. His grunt, muffled by the blanket, means he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care enough either to figure out who it is.

He doesn’t last much longer, falls asleep with her squishing him on the couch (though, arguably, he’s squishing her). She’ll brush off his timid embarrassment at having to need her around the next morning, for waking up in the middle of the night having to be held down. Sobbing incoherently about something, neither of them really sure what. Only calming down when she put his head in her lap, stroking his hair back until he fell back asleep. Which is how he wakes up, his head in her lap and his hand holding her’s hostage.

But she shrugs it off and says she only did it for the free shirt, “don’t worry about it.”

She keeps the shirt, uses it several more nights as they graduate from sleeping on the couch to him finally going back to his bed. To being mentally present enough again to fight her about taking meds, to walking her to the front door every night, and watching her leave.

She buries the shirt too. It feels too tight on her skin, wrong. She touches the material and remembers seeing him hysterical, writhing in pain, and unable to be comforted. Can smell the antiseptic from his skin. Can hear the doctor warning her about his heart. That shirt feels like losing her best friend but she can’t bring herself to get rid of it.

JJ uncovers it a year later (before Emily has done the unspeakable, the unimaginable, and died and come back to life). It’s a girls night gone wrong but not impossibly so.

“Just grab one of my shirts,” Emily says, still laughing.

JJ glares back at her. She’s covered in water from the sink -- Emily sprayed her with the faucet. It’s revenge, payback for the pasta sauce JJ swiped down her cheek.

“You two are devious,” Penelope insists, waving her fingers at them. She’s still chopping up mushrooms, trying to size them as best as she can so that they are spread evenly throughout the alfredo sauce. “Behave before you ruin the sauce and I have to tell Dave that I not only shared his recipe but that you two ruined it.”

JJ has to search for a shirt from Emily’s pajama drawer. She doesn’t want any of the old college shirts and certainly doesn’t want any of the dopey graphic t-shirts Emily is so partial to. She ends up on a grey shirt, worn and old and soft.

Emily knows the shirt the second the JJ comes out and it takes her a moment to hide and stifle the anxiety that its presence gives her. Hotch’s health is better, he’s got a routine down with the medication he’ll be taking for the rest of his life because of that attack, but he’s smiling again. It’s harder than it was before to win one out of him but he can do it, they happen.

“Which one-night stand is this?” JJ asks, plucking the shirt with her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

Emily shakes her head, clears her throat of the residual guilt, and smirks, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” Hotch would be mortified at the insinuation but it’s funny and what he doesn’t know (and what they don’t know) can’t hurt him. She’s sad to see the shirt go, it’s a door closed, but relieved of its burden she can breathe again. Feels Foyet leave her completely.

JJ goes unburdened.

That old shirt is a comfort. She nurses Henry through fevers in it. Uses its edge to wipe his tears from his face. It’s always at the top of her laundry basket, the first thing she puts on when she gets home from a rough case. Will isn’t sure where she got it from because he knows it’s not his. It’s not the first time JJ’s stolen someone else’s clothes (he’s picked up enough of them to know that Reid wears a size small, that dark shirts sized medium are Morgan, and that white t-shirts in a medium are Hotch’s). He thinks it’s cute, she’s been stealing his shirts for as long as he’s known her.

In October, the fall of the same year that Emily leaves for Interpol, JJ gets held up in a meeting with Hotch. Something to do the with Department of Justice and all she manages to get out over the phone is that she’s absolutely pissed and Reid can just faintly hear Hotch offering her a coffee before she thanks him and the line goes dead. Will is on night shift and he can’t come home. So Reid fills in, their impromptu babysitter for the night.

It’s fine, calm… for the most part.

Reid lasts about an hour and a half before he finds himself in need of a change of clothes. He’s got pumpkin all over him and his fun little idea to let Henry carve a baby pumpkin was obviously a bad idea. He just didn’t know that in advance. He’s watched Jack enough times to feel fully confident in his skills but the age gap between Henry and Jack is severe. There are a lot of developmental differences in children only two years apart in age, Reid was not prepared for that.

He feels weird about stealing a shirt but his own is soaked in pumpkin guts and Henry’s bathwater.

JJ doesn’t notice the shirt exchange. She just grins at the sight of Spencer and Henry curled up on the couch, Will sitting beside them eating popcorn while “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” plays softly.

Three days later Morgan sees his shirt on the back of the couch. It’s been washed and is waiting to be returned to JJ but he knows damn well that it’s his. “How the hell did you find this?” Morgan asks, lifting it up. Reid had called him over to fix a leaking pipe (Reid is supposed to call his Super who has a mechanic who can do it but he’s too anxious for that) and Morgan was less than prepared to find his missing shirt.

Reid frowns, confused, “that’s JJ’s. I borrowed it Thursday night when I babysat.”

Morgan shakes his head, no this is his shirt. He’s sure of it. It’s been gone for years. He thought the washing machine ate it. He couldn't remember where else it would have gone off to. That or he left it in some hotel but here it is. Grey and worn and soft, it’s his.

He takes it to work in his go-bag and all but rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he watches Garcia stumble and drench herself in cold, left-over tea. He stands from his desk, sighing hard, “it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.”

He’s never getting this shirt back.

[hanazou]

hello,, I’ve been feeling down lately and a loved one of mine recently has passed away...

if you are comfortable with it may I request a scenario of Atsushi and Chuuya comforting their s/o who were grieving over a death of a loved one? ;0 thank you I love your blog 💖💖

𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

Books : Chuuya | Atsushi

Genre : Comfort, romance

Category : Headcanons, short scenario

Shelves : Hardback | Paperback

Warning : Description of grief

Note : I am deeply sorry for your loss. I can’t do emergency requests but I tried to get this one out as fast as I could. I could only do short scenarios of this so I added headcanons, I hope this is alright. Once again, my condolences and please stay strong.

Chuuya has to ask you a couple of worried questions before it strikes him what you’re dealing with.

He will be on the verge of panicking when he first hears the bad news, worse if you're the one that has to tell him what happened. He instantly undergoes flashbacks from experiencing something like this himself and he fears that your coping with the grief might harm you.

If you can’t afford to talk to him like you usually do, he understands.

He stands/sits next to you, arms crossed, occasionally glancing at you to see if there’s any change in your stance, expression, anything.

He avoids staring at you directly in concern that you'd become pressured by him.

He’s ready to catch you if your legs fail you

Holds the top of your head lightly yet firmly. If you don’t show signs of protesting, he’d slowly pull you closer to his neck.

Getting physically affectionate is his prime card to comfort you, but before anything, he takes off his gloves so he won’t dirty you.

His fingers move kind of unevenly and feel rough, but that’s how you can feel his desire to support you

If you can’t stop crying or on the verge to go on a complete mental breakdown, he immediately collides his body against yours as tight and strong as he could.

If your legs give up, he drops down with you in his arms instead of keeping you standing with his ability and he’ll clutch your face close when you both land on the floor.

If you won’t hug him first, he’ll pull you to him. He forces your face down his shoulder so you’d grieve as much as your heart can empty while his hand brushes your back up and down.

“Cry as long as you need,”

Words, as I’ve once said, isn’t his speciality, but he tries regardless. He wants to make sure that you know you aren’t alone, that you have him with you.

He doesn’t talk as much but his distressed expression stays as long as he’s with you.

“You can take it out on my shoulder, you know,” He hesitates a bit, unsure if he sounds too rough.

If you can’t stop crying, he pats your shoulder, only knowing how to say “There, there” since he thinks it’s better than saying nothing at all. Chuuya thinks you need to hear him being there.

Chuuya squeezes through his tight schedule to make time for you.

He negotiates as best as he could with Mori to give him as much time off as possible.

If it’s impossible to take a week off, he goes full rampage in his job with the thought of you in his head motivating him to finish everything as soon as possible, making a mess where he goes.

If someone gets in his way, Chuuya shouts, "I've got someone more important to see, you punk!" while blasting them away.

He always brings food and drink over and makes sure you eat. He spoon-feeds you if necessary. He isn’t the cleanest but him wiping your face clean makes up for that.

"Come on, babe, you gotta eat," Chuuya says. "They won't like seeing you grieving like this, so eat, yeah? For them?"

If the emotions exhaust you to sleep, he sits against the wall and pulls you to him so you’d sleep against his body, making sure his limbs are around you so you’d never feel the loss of pressure around your body.

If it's cold, he wraps you with a blanket and occasionally touches your fingers to know whether you're staying warm or not.

Since Chuuya’s goal is to make sure you don’t feel alone or abandoned as I’ve mentioned, he does everything to solidify his presence.

He calls often if he has to be away, he sends food delivery, leaves short sticky notes, and sends voice messages.

It’s noticeable he doesn’t know what to say and even more obvious that he wants to keep reaching out to you.

Chuuya tries to strike a light and brief conversation once in a while. He’s disturbed by your uncharacteristic silence, it scares him.

“Do you want some takoyaki?” He’d ask randomly. The anxiety on his face never wavers away.

He does any activity that comes to mind when he stays at your place, but regardless of what he does, he’s never more than three feet away from you.

Always, without fail, kisses you good morning and good night on the forehead regardless he stays at your place or not.

Or if you're not opposed to it, Chuuya wants to take you to his place. He may still have to go to work, but something doesn't feel right about leaving you alone for so long in a place he's not too familiar with. At least in his space, you're constantly reminded you're not alone and that you're there because you're never abandoned.

Like a strayed ship in a storming ocean, your emotions are the waves storming your damaged vassal of conscience to the point that even looking forward to sunray from the bleak sky of endless cloud sounds mythical, making speaking a heavy chore. You’ve been exhausting yourself to sleep, soaking everything with your tears until it no longer comes out. It’s frustrating, it’s turbulent, so active in making you passive. Your tears run out but not the multiple stabs around your heart. Your voice leaves you but not the intensity or the transparency of hurt on your face.

It feels impossible, fictional, but if it were, then you aren't supposed to have your heart cauterized. It's the reminder of the bitter truth you're grappling against accepting.

If they had to go, why not bring the pain with them? Why do they have to leave you fractured, incomplete, empty, by transcending away while you stay behind, only able to watch them shrink somewhere unreachable?

Why do pieces of you have to be chipped off your already fragile soul, leaving holes in your essence? Why leave many pieces behind, why leave you alone?

“Hey,” A voice zaps your mind back to your head.

You remove your face from your wrinkled, moist, and sweaty palms, everything in front of you foggy from the swelling of your eyes. You still wear your dark clothes, unable to find the heart to change into something new, something brighter, after the sudden tragedy strikes. It was not, and still not is, in your capability to even stand up to eat.

Chuuya’s oddly timid and soft-sounding voice for this week is what makes you feel something other than rocking instability.

Slightly opening your eyes to see him, his figure before you hurts your eyes from how colourful he is. His face appears like a messy mix of vibrant paint, his orange hair, blue eyes and fair skin, and dark clothes sticking out from the stale background behind him.

A pair of silver keys, ones that unlock your door, stand out from his black-gloved hand from beneath his tightened fist. He puts it in his pocket and takes your hands, forcing you to stand and steadies your arms when your knees wobble.

"Have you eaten the lunch I had delivered here?" He pats off the dust from your shoulders and arms, his vibrant face still paining your swollen eyes.

Your eyes roll to the untouched paper bag on the table. You figure Chuuya’s eyes follow because of the stifled sigh he holds in.

"Babe, come on…"

"I can't," is what you try to say, although with your dry throat, it comes out like scorched empty words. "I'm sorry, I know you picked it with great care and thoughts so I'd eat, but I just can't, not when—" You catch a coarse breath. "Not when I'm like this, I can't yet."

"Still don't want to talk about it?" His voice squeezes. "You can't keep it in forever, you know, and you really shouldn't."

With your blurry vision, you figure that his arms extend open. A weak ‘what?’ is all you can hoarsely ask.

“Saying nothing, skipping meals and not drinking.” He says sourly. “Let out your grieve like how it should be done. That's what they'd want too."

Your tears make a reappearance at either a bad or perfect timing, depends on how you tilt your head to see it. They prickle your eyes, some rushing down your face.

“Come here,” Chuuya says, perhaps frowning from the way his voice changed.

Your eyes close slowly before opening again, your puffed eyelids troubling you from keeping your eyes opened. “I don’t think I can,” You sound like an overworked opera singer. “If I hug you, I won’t be able to let go and I might suffocate you without meaning to.”

You think Chuuya makes a sound of annoyance until a force smashes your body forward, lunging your face against him. The brief faint glow of orange earlier helps you process that he used his ability on you to bring you to him. Now his arms trap you in him, your forehead strongly weighted on his shoulder.

“Then suffocate me,” His muffled voice says from behind your head, one of his hands taking your arm to hold his body. “I’m always here.”

Your hands stretch his shirt with your tight clasp as you feel yourself getting lost in the waves. The turbulence crashes out from within you as you incoherently cry on Chuuya’s stable body, him becoming your guaranteer in the midst of the rocking forces that threaten your balance. His rigid arms support your weight as you wail out, ensuring that the waves don’t sweep you away, somewhere unreachable from him. He secures you, letting you explore the storm’s rolling waves while still grounding you safe.

“I’m here,” The soft wind in the storm grazes your ear. “I promise.”

Atsushi is one of the most sympathetic and empathetic people you could ask for when it comes to comfort you through your grief.

He’s nowhere oblivious to someone who’s hurting. He recognizes what kind of pain you’re going through and it doesn’t take him too long to identify what you’re feeling and the intensity of it although he can’t process it into words.

Atsushi is so worried sick for you that he has trouble thinking straight and his breaths get faster.

He’s really anxious about you feeling left behind or abandoned.

He makes sure that you don’t doubt that your beloved one who has to leave earlier definitely loves you.

It breaks him if you think of things such as disappointing them, unable to fulfil their wishes, etc.

Atsushi can feel your hurt as if it’s his own, and because of his heightened emotional senses, he’s quick to jump in to support you. It’s instinctive.

He’s at first hesitant to touch you, let alone comfort you with his embrace, so he starts with generic sentences like “I’m so sorry” and “You can lean on me” while offering his empty shoulder

It’s challenging for him, but Atsushi is persistent to comfort you with his words before he touches you.

He insists on speaking before holding you around him.

Atsushi validates your feelings by putting his guesses of how you’re currently feeling into words. He’s not the best with words so he’ll struggle to pick his vocabulary, but the things he says are mostly true.

“I’m sorry you have to feel like your heart is becoming stiff,”

“If you feel like everything around you is empty, I’m still here,”

When he does get to the point where he feels that physical touch can help you, Atsushi is very tender.

He starts with wiping your tears away until your cheeks are drier and offers you tissues. He’ll help you blow your nose

He removes the hair sticking to your face and wipes your face until you’re dry

He hugs you like he's the one broken; putting his face on your shoulder, arms hanging from your neck. It's because that he fears that you might get as hopeless as him. He dreads for that for that happen so he holds you with the strongest Affirmation he can give.

"I'm with you, I'll always be," He keeps repeating while he hugs you.

Touches your fingers most of the time and squeezes your hand

Atsushi fights tooth and nail to get several days off to stay with you in your place. He’ll have a whole speech prepared so he can convince Fukuzawa and Kunikida

He’ll spend the morning bargaining with Fukuzawa in his office after giving Kunikida a 15 minute TED talk about how badly he can empathize with your loss and how he’s rock certain you need his company

He asks Kyouka to help him make your food that’s easy to digest for the stomach, like soup and porridge. You can best bet that she’s going to add some tofu to it.

“Kyouka-chan helped me make this fish soup,” Atsushi presents you the bento boxes, unwrapping the cloth. “Let’s eat, okay? You have to keep your stomach filled. I’ll help you.”

If he’s unable to spend the night at your place, Atsushi makes sure to arrive at 6 am sharp every day to check on you, and the earliest he’ll leave is around 8 o’clock

He cleans your place every day diligently and does an excellent job at it. Doing the dishes, cleaning the floor, making sure the sink is clean and ensures the bathroom floor isn’t slippery. He doesn’t want an untaken care living space to worsen your emotional state.

Despite always bringing fresh food, Atsushi makes sure to cook fresh batches of rice to eat with anything he delivers so if you miraculously want to eat something, you’ll have something to consume.

If he has to leave for a while, he surrounds you with plush toys. If you don't have any, he borrows Kyouka's bunny plushies collection and arranges them around you, your pillow, the corner of your bed, and on your blanket.

Atsushi never wants you to forget that your loved one loves you. He does everything in his power to remind you everyday that although they're gone, the love they have for you will eternally stay with you and that nothing can ever change that.

He hugs you while verbally reminding you of that.

His hugs always lasts a long while if you're not uncomfortable with it. He can stay long minutes in that position.

Or he sits/lays down next to you in silence, doing absolutely nothing. He's anxious about the quietness himself so his fingers are always near yours.

Words of affirmation randomly comes out. Sometimes he talks about his personal experience to encourage you that everything will be alright, sometimes he tells you the reasons to his belief why your loved one's love for you preserves through all.

He keeps his talks motivational and faithful for the future. Sometimes he'd quote the things Dazai had said to him, filtering out the nonsense if necessary, or the things he always told himself in hope for a brighter tomorrow.

A breathing doll has been haunting your room for a week. It blinks, it moves, it can be spoonfed, but nobody at a glance would argue that it lives. It’s a doll. Calling it an undead is more generous than calling it a doll because of the existing needs. A doll sits inanimately, breathes at the bare minimum, and is devoid of wants and needs.

It’s the perfect status to illustrate how corpse-like you’ve been living like for this week. Your stone-cold face, just as cold fingers, eyes that barely shift, dried mouth and chapped lips make it a challenge to have you described as something living. To even use the word ‘live’ to describe you is contradictory and to hear the word ‘live’ suffocates your throat and clamps your once functioning heart. The indescribable pain mutes you, paralyzes you, turning you doll-like.

A broken doll, you are, once full, once living and moving until the one you love had to bid life farewell first without warning.

One tireless and loyal white-haired boy frequents you every day, bearing food and water to make sure the living doll in your room doesn’t fade into the cold. Cobwebs would have formed between your arms and your bed if he didn’t clean you off the filth you don’t bathe away, your nerves have been too dormant for you to feel filthy.

A bright white figure shifts around in front of you like a poltergeist. You pay it no mind. This isn't the first or second time you're seeing things that aren't there, or rather, someone who isn't supposed to be here. Your cluelessness to cope with the grave reality seems to have driven your brain on autopilot, it seems that this time it decides to give you a hallucination so you'd have someone to cling to.

A sudden snap startles your eyes to open wider, albeit without focus. Something black was in front of you, it had five branches and moves so... humanly. Like it's real. You trace it back to the white hallucination in front of you and it takes you a while to realise that you aren't hallucinating. The white haired boy who has been frequenting your place is here again today.

"Atsushi..." His name falls emptily through your teeth.

Atsushi’s mouth opens and his lips move in accordance. His face wrinkles to the centre. The inconsistent pressure he applies around your cold hand before holding you as tight as now tells you of how fragile he knows you are.

His mouth opens again familiarly. You shift your eyes to him without any effort to listen through the incoherent sound.

When his lips move for the third time, you figure out he has been calling your name. You blink twice and his chest deflates with a long exhale.

“You’ll pull through,” His hold around your hand boldens as he grit his teeth. “They had to depart first but they did so while loving you. You're loved, they love you. You can use that to push on, their love for you lives on and so do your memories of them.”

He observes you with high intensity as if expecting you to speak. You notice the disappointment when all your eyes do is gaze hollowly through him. You think he breathes in a sob from the sudden squeak he makes.

Your eyes lazily roll to follow your hand Atsushi lifts to put against his face. “I’m with you, I'll always will be. You’re not alone, you’re not alone, you’re not alone.” He chants. “You’re never alone, you’re never alone.”

He brings your hand down against his chest. Something beats inside to hammer you the reminder that it will never stop thrumming. The warmth reminds your nerves of something. It feels contagious, bringing you recollecting something you used to feel often.

“I promise, I promise, I promise,” Atsushi hurriedly says, “I’ll always be here for you.”

Like a mantra, his words deliver the familiar sensation his chest makes you feel to your essence. After your slowed blink, you tilt down your head and tilt back up, repeating that movement until it’s fitted to be called a nod. Atsushi heaves a breath out and pulls your hand to get between his arm and side until your upper body drops against his.

“They watch over you, I promise,” His hand holds your head as you passively breathe on his shirt. "Anytime and anywhere, they're with you, and so am I.” He says airily. "You're never alone and never will be. They're with you and I'm staying forever, you'll never see your side empty, I promise they watch over you, I promise, I promise, I promise,"

Your head tilts to the side, giving more space to breathe. His solid body exudes more of the feeling you don’t realize you crave. It reaches your throat eventually, nourishing you with words you once lost.

"Thank you," You whisper.

A living doll you temporarily are but not forever, and most certainly, a loved human you are for as long as the memory of your beloved and Atsushi keep you close to them.

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