#v. |cracked porcelain holds no water

[saturatedboy]

Greetings! it is me again

im here for another request for m'lady donna

Could you do Mafia Donna x Mafia Reader

Enemies to lovers please ( ╹ v ╹ )

Donna Beneviento x GN!Mafia!Reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: Mentions of death, gore and violence

Requests: Open

Smoke drifted into the crisp cold air as the clouds overhead began to turn into a darker grey, carrying the weight of all their pent-up water. The breeze had turned against the sky, picking up speed as time went on. “Seems to be a stormy night tonight boss,” A croaked voice spoke out, putting out their lit cigar as they scraped it alongside the cobbled wall that they were leaning on.

With an audible sniff and eyes turning upwards, a smile was drawn upon your lips. “Seems so. However, don’t let the simple trickle of water make you forget your place. We are doing this tonight, rain or no rain. I can’t have any more fuckups you hear me?” The other cowered down a little, turning their head to face the other way down towards the open entrance of the alleyway that both of you were hiding in.

“Yes boss,”

“Good, now get the horse and cart ready, we have an order to deliver.” soft noises of the worker footsteps travelled down the alleyway, echoing with each step. Once out and turned, you shook your head and pulled fingers through your hair. The slight texture of grease made you sigh, disappointed at the fact your hair wasn’t as soft as it had been in previous days. “I need a shower,” you moaned, glancing up as you felt the first drop of water touches your skin and slide down. The feeling of its coldness made you groan, pulling your hands away from your hair onto your shoulders where the hood to your poncho over your head keeping you dry from any further water droplets. Once you made sure it was secured, you began to set trail off down the same way your partner had travelled, down the alleyway and made a sharp right as you entered back onto the streets of the village. Although it was bustling with life, you found not many people had travelled down the small areas of darkened light between houses. So instead, you and your team began to meet up there to discuss matters upon next delivers.

Keeping your head low, you walked down the dirt pathways, only to look up when the noises of soft neighing could be heard. A horse stood tall; its brown of its body being sploshed with bits of dirt along with the odd leaf in its mane. Smiling at the beautiful creature, you ran your fingers through its mane, starting with the top of its head and working your way down, picking the fallen leaves out and throwing them onto the ground. Beng caught up in pleasing the horse, a sudden tap of your shoulder made you turn and huff. “What.” You spoke, the word coming out as a demand rather than a question. Another partner of yours looked at you, rubbing the back of their head sheepishly as they cracked a long-side smile.

“Time to get going, everything is ready.” Nodding, you looked back at the horse one more time and placed a soft kiss upon its mussel, cooing as you stared into its black eyes.

“Aren’t you just magnificent.” You whispered, giving one last stroke through its mane before you walked away, letting your hand wonder over the side of its rather plump body. The horse whimpered under your touch, missing the feeling of your warmth soothing its headache from staying up all day since the crack of sunlight.

You stopped just behind the horse, grabbing hold of your partners hand as they pulled you up upon a wooden cart that had the edges as benches and the middle being filled with bags. Waiting for the rest of your team to climb on, you fiddled with your dirt and cracked nails letting your mind wander. Everything had changed after the disappearance of Mother Miranda. People had no one to worship so instead a vote for mayor had been decided as the village needed someone to keep everyone in shape. Although the Lords and Ladies still existed, no one had really known much of them as it sometimes felt like they too had disappeared. ‘Fools’ you spoke within your mind, leaning back against the wooden rest as you relaxed your body slightly, opening your legs taking up much space since a small of your group would be coming with you for this delivery.

Soon once everyone was settled, the cart began to move with the horse towing it. As the journey had begun, you checked in on everyone in your team making sure that they were okay and that any sort of fuck up they make, you would handle it appropriately- not like they really made ay fuckups; a generous pay drop would be the worst thing you could do to them. Back to your thinking, you smirked as a sudden image crossed your mind.

The fair and sweet Lady Beneviento.

Oh, was she a kicker to your reputation amongst the vast of villages. Although not many knew this, but their ‘oh so wonderful’ Lords and Ladies hadn’t actually disappeared. They just worked in more secretive jobs, like you. Now, being a contraband giver was more of an illegal crime now that the mayor had placed down laws but what's the fun in following when breaking them gave you such more of an experience to be truly alive. Now, knowing the whole area, you had knowledge of where the Lords and Ladies were hiding away and doing their own nasty deeds.

When you first got into business by delivering the ‘secret bags’ as the Duke would sell them to their buyers, you had stumbled across The Lord Heisenberg being someone you were delivering to. It didn’t come to any shocker that you and him got along almost instantly. The dynamics of your relationship with the fourth Lord was nothing more than a buddy to see very now and again- it was your listening skills that got him to like you on a mutual level.

In the past 3 years, you had stumbled across what the other lord and Ladies were doing. Lord Moreau would ask for you to deliver DVD’s that he could watch, Lady Dimitrescu would ask you to deliver your services to her to help out with her three daughters and lastly, Lady Beneviento. She has never asked you for such things. She was quite secretive in the past, keeping to herself. You did expect so much her to keep that up- but you never expected to find her doing such activities like yourself.

It was a dark night that you saw her for the first time. You both had crossed paths that faithful night. You were doing a private mission of walking to Lady Dimitrescu’s castle for a ‘play date’ with her three daughters. Upon arriving, you had bumped into the Lady Beneveinto and knocked her onto the floor. The doll cradled in her arms came to life and attacked you by the legs, with small bruises, you huffed and picked up the doll, holding her out at arm reach so her long limbs of wood couldn’t hit you. The Lady on the floor stared up at you as the impact had revelled something one might describe to be ‘horrifying’ to the human eye. She had quickly began engaged with red as she stood back up and swept her veil back over her face, walking over to you and giving you a straight punch in the face just as you were trying to apologise for your mistake. The impact had you falling onto the ground, and the doll was released being brought back to its owner the doll maker. “How dare you,” She spat out, letting the doll in her arms glide above her shoulders.

You got up again and muttered a ‘sorry’ before trying to proceed past her, already knowing you were going to be a little late to the ‘play date’. However ,it seemed the doll maker had other ideas, seeing as you did reveal something she was so self-conscious about she had the doll at her shoulder swipe down at you, using a thin string to wrap your arms behind your back. The quick movements of the doll flying about had you unbalanced as you tried to keep up with the doll’s movement moving around your head. Misplacing your step, you fell back onto your knees and received a harsh blow to your face by a black shoe. With your head tilted to one side, blood running down your nose with the taste of metal between your lips, you could feel a sweep of warmth burst in your chest as your senses began to argue whenever you should try fight the Lady or scream for help. You didn’t know what to do so you kneeled in silence, waiting the next move. “I see you again I’ll make you more broken than porcelain doll that has fell of the highest shelf” Lady Beneviento had spoken, walking out with her doll back in her arms. It wasn’t till the daughters had gone searching for you that they found yourself in a bloodied state, holding back their hunger and instead getting you cleaned up. You kept the meeting between yourself and the doll maker a secret, saying that you were simply ambushed by a maid that worked at the Castle not really thinking about their lives since anyone who worker for the Lady Dimitrescu would be dead anyway.

The cart had come to a sudden stop, awaking you from your memories. Biting your lip, you could feel one of your canines scrape along- the tooth being chipped after being kicked in the face. A frown came to your face, another day doing business was not the most amusing thing you could be doing but none the less you had to get it done. A day’s worth of money was more you could ask for, being the secretive organisation that brought the outside technology and knowledge into the homes of those willing to pay large amounts for such items. Scanning the cart, watching as your team for this mission take some of the bags from the middle, you readjusted your hood on your head and jumped out after. Turning around to face the empty cart, you leaned in and collect the last of bags that were carrying such items that you didn’t know since the Duke gave no information what-so-ever, just to deliver the goods and collect the money.

“Let’s go.” You called out, walking in front of your team as you felt the water of the rain come more intensely down, matching your sudden mood. Rain was the worst of the weather; it wasn’t like you had anything to shield yourself from its droplets since your last umbrella was back at the base. Water fell off your frame, your poncho soaking it up and letting it cling to your clothes underneath. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings. It appeared you were in a wood, maybe forest? You weren’t sure, you hadn’t exactly explored such parts since you were a child. “Charles, recite what Duke said,” You called out behind you, waiting for the other to respond.

“he said we should head Nother-West to deliver these bags. A mansion that he had spoken of should be there and we are to give the bags to the house owner.” Nodding to the words, you kept along a path that was littered with the dried leaves and dust from the dirt below. It was as though the bright colour from the grass had been taken away, leaving nothing more than distress and dust of those had become one with the ground. As you walked with your team trailing behind, the hairs on your arm shad spiked up, peaking interest at the sudden change in atmosphere. It felt as though you were being watched, maybe by the owls, maybe by the squirrel's that gazed down at your forms from the high trees- all that you knew was that you had eyes watching you and your every move. You felt mildly disturbed.

Deep breaths had calmed your nerves slightly, a silent voice in your head telling you that you were safe yet the nagging guy feeling had you on your toes, leaving our shoulders to be tensed. The quietness had been broken by one of your team mates, them speaking up in a high pitch voice. “What was that?!” Turning heads stared at him as he looked to the side, his eyes focusing on the trees that were staggered about.

“What was what.” You asked, arching a brow as you stopped walking. The man that had spoken up stayed quiet, staring at one spot until he shook his head getting rid of his thoughts.

“Nothing, let's keep moving. I thought I saw the doll moving.”

“Great he is going insane,” A woman had joked, making others around you laugh at her comment.

“Keep talking and each word you all say is a deduction of your payment. Let's go, we can’t be late.” That had shut them all up, this time you all were walking a faster pace to find the mansion, still sticking on the path hoping it led you there.

Each minute that had passed, you felt the feeling of your disgust growing. You were fine with the one doll that was laid against a tree a moment ago, the thought of a child that came through crosse our mind and they may had left it but every minute that passed and the deeper you followed the trail, the more dolls that were hanging, left and stuck to trees, branched and the floor had grown in popularity. Mentally you were no prepared for such toys, ever since the doll maker had attacked you, you had grown disgusted of the creation finding it to be a taint onto your pride to let such a dainty, yet somewhat nerve-ticking woman to beat the crap out of you. How she made the blood that circled your body become thick with hatred. “I can see the house up ahead!”

Your team and yourself had heaved the bags onto the front porch of the mansion, being wary to not knock over any plant pots that were settled amongst the rocking chairs that were soft rocking in the wind. Pulling down your drenched hood, you rolled up your sleeves of your grey dress-shirt and knocked against the door waiting for the house owner to answer. “This place is giving me the creeps,”

“You can say that again, I mean look at that doll in the window.”

“Oh gosh, it’s so large.”

“That’s one creepy ass-looking doll.”

Rolling your eyes at your employee's comments, you knocked again getting slightly impatience waiting for the owner to answer. It was hammering down with rain; the wind was picking up and not to mention you have yet to head back to base and sort through all the money this week to give out. You were a busy person; you had no time to be waiting around for-

The door had creaked open slightly, letting the small amount of light from the inside pour into line on the dark porch. “We have brought your package.” You spoke, stepping into the small amount of light in between the double doors hoping to see who the buyer was. The door creaked more open and you stepped back, taken back at the sudden appearance who you were facing.

Lady Beneveinto had stood, her veil over her face and swarmed by her feet were many small dolls, dressed and suited in different colours. You could feel your nose twitch, the sudden reminder of what she had done to you last time. You bit back a hateful comment and breathed out heavily. “Your order...ma’am.” You stepped aside so she could stare behind her veil at the bags your employees were carrying. She slowly nodded and she took a step outside to stand next to you. In a low voice she had spoken.

“Please, leave them inside by this door and you may get going.” She turned to look at you. “I’ll give your...boss their money.” Oh, you could clearly here the smile playing at her lips, the way her voice had deepened slightly when saying the last part brought your jumble of nerves to appear more. Hearing your team agreeing, you watched as each of them entered her house and left unharmed by the dolls that sat waiting patiently by the door. You did however find it humorous how each one of them had carefully stepped over them, as though they would come to life and attack them if they dared to accidently touched them. Once all bags were safely inside, they nodded at you and began to leave the porch, disappearing the further they walked as a lonesome fog had taken up the atmosphere. Soon, it was just you, Lady Beneviento and the creepy dolls. “Why so tense,” She spoke up suddenly, scaring you half-to death. Placing a hand over your fast beating heart, you looked away and pulled your hood over your head.

“Because its cold,” You weren’t going to back down to her, yeh she has creepy dolls but you have pride and dignity to not be stricken down by such a sly woman. Her laugh had caught your ears, it was eerily soft and gentle, as though she was the one nervous in this situation.

“Hm, sure. Do come in then whilst I fetch your money- if your cold you’ll warm right up.” She backed away into her home, looking back waiting for you to make your move. Looking back at the fog becoming thicker, you quickly gathered the much-needed courage to walk into her home and close the door behind you. You couldn’t lie, you almost moaned at the heat you felt surrounding your body. Seeming to approve, Lady Beneveinto began to walk away and out of your sight, leaving you with the hundreds of dolls surrounding you. Leaning against the wall by the doors, you looked down at your nails and picked at them finding comfort when doing so...

“Boo,” A voice had whispered into your ear, making you jump and grab the hunter knife that was hidden in your boots. Pointing the knife at the offender who floated above you, you scowled at the so-called-being. “Oh, I see your nose isn't bleeding. How sad, red is a pretty colour on you.”

“What do you want,” Sneering your words at the doll, it in response laughed at your facial features.

“Ya know you squint when your mad, that’s pretty cute but that isn't why I’m here. Lady Beneveinto was hurt deeply when you scared her- and I don’t like those who harm my mistress in any way.” The doll had stepped onto the wooden ground Infront of your feet. It slowly touched your left knee and watched in amusement as you tucked them under your body, being sat on your knees holding the knife out at it. “Sadly though, you work for the Duke and we can’t harm the only person being a life saviour brining the goods to us.” She smiled as you lowered your knife, a little relive that you won’t be dead within this place that you now wanted to badly leave.

Taking another step, the doll was now close to your position, looking up to see you staring down at it. “You work for a mafia, right?” It asked, it’s eyes never leaving yours.

“Maybe, though I see it much more as a bunch of individual enjoying breaking the law.” You responded, not even noticing the feeling of small hands gripping your knees gently as they lean up further to your face.

“Enjoy breaking the law hm? Too bad we can’t break your nose again-” the doll spoke, fully climbing onto your thighs ignoring your protest against it. “Your kind of fun,” it said, smiling up at you. “I’m Angie, and you are play mate?” You grimaced at the word. Playmate. It sounded weird.

“(Y/n), pleasure.” The doll giggled, jumping up and down slightly and clapping her hands.

“I have a name to a face, how fun. Playmates don’t normally get to speak their names, but you're weirdly different.” an awkward laugh erupted from your throat, you were silently hoping that the Lady would come back and save you from the doll of hers. “She hates you.” Angie said, humming slightly at your reaction. You pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded.

“I hate her to, she didn’t have to attack me and neither did you,” Angie stared at you, her smile disappearing of her face.

“You revealed her insecurity, how could you take her safety and pull it away from her.” Her posture on your lap held little aggression, yet her voice held anger. You were taken back from her change in mood, what had you done exactly?

“I don’t understand, what has she to feel insecure about?” Your question lingered between the both of you, the other dolls that you didn’t even bother to register had stood off to the side in a line watching you, hushed voices of their own talking amongst each other.

Angie turned her head slightly to look at the, you followed her gaze and a small gasp came from you. You hated dolls even more- BECAUSE THEY FUCKING MOVED AND THEY WERE MORE OF THEM! “Jeese calm down, they aren’t going to hurt you...unless you want them to-”

“No, I’m good thanks.”

“Okay goodie! Now let's talk more! You revealed her face! Everyone knows Lady Benevento hides her face for a reason. And you went ahead, pushed her and made her veil show her face to you. Of course, she hates you! I do too! Well- sort of. You’re fun!”

You sweated at Angie’s word, giving a half-smile. “Yeah, you said that earlier that I was fun. Now c’mon. She has nothing to hide, she’s pretty why would she need to hide her face? -wait I didn’t mean to say pretty she’s average, ya know? Like all females, average and cute- not cute just-”

“Shut up, please. You’re becoming less fun and more annoying.” You nodded and stayed quiet, going back to biting your bottom lip. Any further conversation between you both had been left alone. You just wanted to get your pay and go back home, to everyone in the village and to never come here again. You’ll have to talk to Duke about this.

“Apologies for waiting, I was caught up in looking at one of my finest creations all dolled up for me. And had to make sure the others had done their jobs.” Her clicking of her shoes had you pushing Angie of your thighs and as swift as a fox grabbing prey you stood up, your hood falling down and splatting against your shoulder remining you of how wet you felt around yourself.

You stared at her, looking down at her hand to see she was carrying a money bag that looked rather filled. She walked further towards you, her expression unseen to your eyes as she held the bag out for you to reach. With itching fingers, you grabbed the bag and nodded a ‘thanks.’ “We do hope to have you over again, maybe this time we can play with you.” She tilted her head, hands clasping in front of her. You gulped and didn’t reply too shocked or scared to even use your words.

“I’m going to head back now,” You whispered, turning around to face the double doors and grabbing hold of the handle. When pulling the handle, a familiar hand caught your laying over it.

“It’s quiet the storm tonight, Stay over hm? I’m sure you can stay the night.” Her voice was right beside your ear. You felt intimidated by her as her grip on your hand had soon stung as the iron handle under your grip had pushed itself up into your flesh, marking it with red.

Not answering her, she let go of you and walked away again, letting her shoes echo against the wooden floor. “Take those wet clothes of you, you’ve already started to make a pond in my house and I don’t appreciate it from the likes of a low-life like yourself. At least my dolls do high quality services and not try to strip someone of their safety.” Body freezing up, you dropped your hand to your side. You still didn’t understand why she was so mad at that- she's a Lady for Mother Miranda’s sake. She has no need to feel self-conscious about herself, in fact you didn’t even think of any questions about when you saw her face. She was somewhat...pretty you guess.

“Oi daydreamer, c’mon. I’ll show where you shall be sleeping- that is if you can even manage to sleep hehe!”

‘stupid fucking doll’ the thought of even sleeping in this house surrounded you with dread, a frown placed upon your face however it was soon wiped away when you felt Angie’s hand wrap around your own. She led you up the stairs that were on the right, pulling up and chanting that you should ‘hurry up’ like there was something chasing after you both. Once making to even the top, after slipping one time on the stairs, she unshed you to continue forward and into a room that was plain. A simple single bed with a wardrobe and rocking chair in the corner. You looked back to see Angie gone and a sigh of relief was released between your clenched jaw from holding back your tongue when it touched you. Finding yourself wandering to the bed, you stripped your poncho off and let it sit on the windowsill, opening the window a little to let cold air rush in, and after you laid back on the bed. Getting yourself comfortable you laid down against the pillows and closed your eyes, letting your hands lay upon your stomach interwind with each other. “Quicker I get to sleep, quicker morning will come,”

The feeling of something petit touching your cheek had you groaning. “What is it mum?” You mumbled out, forcing an eye lid open. Soon the tiredness within your eyes had been slapped out of exitance as you scrambled awake. Letting your body scrunch up as you laid fully back up against the head board of the bed. Sat on the other side of your bed, near the bottom, were a range of different size dolls. All of them were giggling, making you once again grabbing the hunter knife in your shoe and pointing it all at them. “Stay back!” Your throat felt slightly sore, only have woken up. The dolls all looked at each other as though they were whispering to each other, soon they had scrambled off the bed and out of the door, running past the Lady. “I see you’re all dry now,” She spoke, walking into the room with a silver tray in her hands.

You quickly let your fingers glide over yourself, finding new clothing on yourself. This time a baby blue dress-shirt accompanied with white pants. You glared up at the Lady as she placed the silver tray on the end of the bed. “You changed me whilst I slept?”

“Why yes, it took all my power to not turn you into a doll when doing so.” Her remark sent shivers down your spine, your body reacting by feeling your skin just to make sure you weren’t actually wood. Your shoulders slumped when you felt your skin, finding the meat still on and attached. “I suggest you eat up; my dolls don’t like guests that stay too long and I’m very busy today.” She left the room in long stride, having the decency to close the door behind her. Wiping a hand down your face, you leaned towards the end of the bed and grabbed the tray, gabbing it and pulling it towards your body. Upon the tray sat a plate of toast and a cup filled with water. Hearing your stomach rumble suddenly, you dug into the food which soon settled the unknown hunger. Once done, you swung your legs out of bed and placed your shoes on that were settled under the bed. Once they were slipped on, you took your partially dry poncho of the window sill and placed it over and arm- like a butler would do with a towel or a waiter.

Walking out the room, you jumped slightly back as the smaller dolls once again were running bout, each carrying different doll limbs with themselves. Waiting for them all to go past, you stepped fully out the room just to have Angie swing by quickly. “Hey there! Morning, now c’mon you can be helping hands!” She exclaimed, grabbing your hand like she did the previous night and dragging you along with her.

“B-But Lady Beneveinto said I had to le-”

“Thats because she doesn’t want you to get mixed up but oh well- now c’mon slow poke!” You could already tell Angie was trying to sit trouble between yourself and the Lady, you were so close to going back home as well. Following you complied, going through hallways and down the elevator shaft with the many dolls.

‘I hate dolls’

“Why are they here Angie,”

“They can help”

“Why would I want them to help us, we are doing fine.”

“But it’s nice to have a more interactive company”

“Angie”

“They can be of use.”

You were sat on a stool, overlooking a deceased child body that was paced on a medical table. At first glance, you had almost thrown up your breakfast into your mouth however you weren’t going to give the Lady satisfaction of getting under your skin with her wicked ways a ‘mortal can’t handle’. The body was cut open, limbs cut and replaced with wooden and iron ones. It wasn’t until you saw the sun and moon crest that had been burned into a wooden leg attached to the body that some things made sense.

‘so, she is the one that sends the so-called gifts and toys into the village.’ you thought as you placed a hand over the creates and stroked it, feeling the indents under your skin.

“Okay fine, if you want to stay then stay. Don’t touch anything you hear me?” The Lady spoke, pulling back her veil and rolling her sleeves to her black dress. You nodded and stayed in your place, staring at the body again.

‘They aren’t giving me any sort of reaction...no words spoken even.’ The Lady stared at you, feeling a little more comfortable with the situation. A small smile even broke out on her lips, eyes drooping a little as she felt a warmth claim her normally cold body. “If you could grab the screws over there on the able behind you, that would be helpful.” You turned to face her, nodding and got up out of your seat to do as told. Angie waited until you had sat down again, nodding at the teamwork you both had unknowingly fell into. Soon she left the room, leaving you both alone to work on the ‘gift’ for the children down in the village.

“So, I’m guessing these creepy things are given to the children?” You spoke up, watching as Lady Beneveinto as she weaved stitched upon the open cuts on the body.

“Yes,” she spoke out softly, tying a knot at the end of her thread and cutting it. “It’s so I can keep an eye on everyone. The dolls, I can look through their eyes and watch the world play. Mother Miranda had ordered me to do so before she left to wherever she had to go.” You listened, muscles relaxing as you watched her work.

“I’m sorry for taking your safety away, I honestly didn’t realise what I had done to do so but I believe an apology from me is the right thing.” She stopped her hands, looking up at you with a soft smile.

“My veil hides my deformed face; it hides the scar on my right side. I’ve been told by...villages when they accidently saw it that it scares them.” Her words had wiggled their way into your heart, you felt so much sympathy for her as she had been outcasted by such people. “But you didn’t scream...It was a new feeling.”

“I suppose we are all feeling new feelings. I didn’t even question your scarring, it’s a part of you. It shouldn’t make you different.”

“For someone who does illegal crimes, your oddly nice.” You chuckled at her, sending a smile of your own her way whilst a soft heat took over your ears.

“Many people are within the business; we just are hidden from the society we are forced to grow up in.” Your words hung into the air; the conversation cut off as Angie came flying in screaming as a fox chased after her.

“Angie!” Lady Beneveinto had shouted, grabbing her and bringing her close to her chest as the fox clawed at her leg. Getting your hunters knife at, you jumped at Lady Beneveinto and made a clean cut through the fox, blood splatting onto the floor. The heavy breathing of Angie was only heard now, Lady Beneviento to shocked to even say a word whilst you stood above the now dead fox, hand dripping in blood a little. ”Like I said...your oddly nice.”

A total of a week had passed after that day, Angie was house bound for at least another week after she had brought in the fox chasing her. Within that time, you and Donna (as you found out), had settled differences and began acquaintance with one another. Whenever you didn’t have an order to give out from the Duke, you would visit her to join her and Angie for a tea party or to just help around the mansion. Her company was far more peaceful than you would expect, she had slowly started to greet you without her veil over her face and instead a warm smile is what you would see when she answered her doors.

Weeks had turned to months, and months had turned to years. You were still a successful business runner for contraband, still not caught by Mother Miranda as she had returned from wherever she had gone off to. Life was running smoothly, you felt safe when at Donna’s house, the dolls somewhat warming up to your presence and not giving you so much of a creepy vibe.

On this particular day, you were sat on the front porch in the rocking chairs with Donna, a China cup in both your hands. “How has the selling been Donna?” You asked, sipping upon the herb tea feeling your body settle in comfort. Donna shifted in her chair, looking over at you on her left side.

“I’ve heard so much gossip lately so you better be careful out there. They are starting to get suspicious of your recent buyers, the blacksmith in particular. Apparently, he left a ‘television’ out in his workshop and the sewers wife with her child by her side was suspicious. Luckily, he lied and spoke that it was a random object he created.”

You chuckled and leaned over, resting your hand on her knee. “You worrying about me? Isn’t that sweet.” you teased, only fake pouting when she slapped your hand playfully.

“Oh yes, I worry about you a lot. So much I’m scared one day I may not kiss you being alive.”

Time stopped, her words replaying in your mind. “You...want to kiss me?”

“Well yes, isn’t it obvious I have taken a liking towards you?” Her forwardness had you blushing deeply, your whole face, neck and ears covered by the red. You opened and closed your mouth like a cod fish, making her sigh and lean over this time to meet your face in the middle. Using her free hand, she cupped your cheek and forcefully pulled you into a soft kiss. Her lips moved in sync with your, yours reacting to the feeling of both love and affection almost immediately. The moment was blissful, you enjoying the feeling of her being closer than ever to you.

Until you dropped your China cup upon being to focus on the kiss- making a perfect memory for your first ever kiss with your future wife.

[albctrxss-blog]

@poeticpecker || starter call 

          “That hat makes you look better -- more approachable.” 

          Meant entirely as a compliment, though River holds her breath still. Jayne wasn’t ever the easiest person to get along with, but she held no fear regarding him. She could take him any day, even with her eyes closed ( a fact she enjoyed reminding him of constantly ). His mind was one she avoided at all costs, but the occasional thing slipped through her barely-able-to-call-defenses, and usually resulted in disgust or occasional contempt. But still, he was a member of the crew, and she would try her hardest to al least be civil on a good day, the bad days she had no control and could maybe shoot him, who knew? 

[werezmastarbucks]

crete

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2194

warnings: drowning

music: prove me wrong by tyler joseph, ¿ by bmth and halsey

Another time Kai died out of his own stupidity.

It was incredible, really, how he, such a brilliant mind, resourceful and sharp, terrifyingly shrewd and quick-thinking sometimes put zero consideration into things he was doing. If there was some kind of underlying point in the things he sometimes did, it escaped you. Sometimes it seemed he has been bashed on the head on the day he was born. That was what made him so fun to be isolated with. Kai Parker was so unpredictable.

Like when he ran you both off the cliff, which he then explained as a romantic bonding experience.

After all, what makes people the closest?

You were shaking with rage. You couldn’t even speak, after you resurrected, on the beach, among the crooked debris of your car, smelling something still burning, with a headache.

Killing somebody together. But there’s no one here to kill, so...

So we died together, holding hands, and it was amazing, for once.

He had a dreamy expression on his face. You recalled the horrible moment the car hit the ground; you almost fell out of your seat by that time, and in a split second, you finally understood why Kai always had a seatbelt on. The pain, the sound of your own spine cracking. The hammer-like sensation of the weight of the ground pounding your head, breaking your skull. You were lucky the car simply dived in, and you both fell heads first, dying almost instantly.

It all made sense to him, and you were afraid that you’d spend enough time with him to start seeing his way, too.

But the next time he died on his own, because, like all geniuses, he was incredibly dumb in the most unexpected places.

This place was called Koureménos, and Kai knew how to pronounce it, and you didn’t. You have been to Greece before, but obviously this time was different. For once, it was the past.

Another obvious thing that you don’t take into consideration before you face it: the mountains don’t care whether it’s past or future. They live millions of years, and barely ever change. Even vampires like Klaus Mikaelson may seem children compared to mountains. It was impossible to tell what year it was, standing on the top of the hill, looking into the sea. The sea barely changes, too. It’s just cyan blue and deep, and you especially adored the two seas in Greece; Aegean more so than the Mediterranean, because it had more temper. It changed colors. It listened to you. It had furious, playful waves. It beat people on rocks, threw them around like toys. It was like... Kai.

“So, how does one love?” he asked.

You were sitting at the rock, the hard stone biting into your bare knees. You turned to him with a swing. Kai didn’t care for the sun. He didn’t care for the wind. Was he so jaded with life that the particles of his skin themselves stopped feeling the change in the temperatures? He always wore jeans and a shirt (he changed those every day, but they always were the same), and a hoodie with a zip. He was like a living Sim, you realized. A customized video game character.

“What?”

He looked like the words came out of is mouth in spite of him. God knows what he was thinking, and what was so special about you sitting on the rock, crouching, your back to him, and groaning, trying to get your sandal out of in between two sharp rocks, that he suddenly wanted to know about love.

Kai asked a lot of questions about things he never talked about before. He didn’t have anyone he trusted enough to ask, how one does love, and what it means, and how death feels to others, and what they dream about. You were realizing those questions had nested, piling up and up on his mind, for years, and he didn’t see anybody suit to hear them. Most probably, nobody wanted to hear them. He was asking questions about things a child should understand. Like why people cry. That one time he asked you, do you still get spooked? about your nightmare opened him up a little to you. You realized he lived in a completely different world. Unfortunately, it made it even harder to be mad at him.

Now he wanted to know how one loves. Even the way he has phrased it, it made you see he has no idea.

He was sorry he asked. You never ever pushed him away at the moments like that.

“Come here”.

He walked quietly, like a cat. Always. It was extremely unnerving. Even when he didn’t need to sneak, he still did. You did not know what his steps sounded like.

Kai stood next to you, unwilling to get on your level to hold some control.

“You told me you have loved someone, right before you killed me in Italy”, you said, scornfully.

“Yeah, I know the feeling, but I don’t know what you’re supposed to do”.

You stood up. You didn’t like it when he hovered over you like an executioner.

“For one, you don’t kill them”.

He looked you right in the eye without any expression.

“Easy to say, harder to do. I get this need to kill whenever I get close to someone”.

“I feel like you talk from experience”.

He looked at the water.

“Uh-huh. I killed my first girlfriend. I’m still wondering what I did wrong”.

You fought the urge to say ‘killing her, probably, was it’.

Instead, you asked, with a creeping feeling that you’re turning into him a little, while he’s taking on your features,

“How?”

“Drowned her in the pool. I banged her head on the tiles first”.

“Why?”

Kai thought for a bit.

“So that she wouldn’t wiggle”.

You sighed.

“Or to make her suffer less?” he asked, with hope, trying to cheat. You shook your head with a smile.

You felt inclined to hug him. Kai actually gave you a super useful advice. It’s only you and him. Although you wanted it very bad, you didn’t have to fight your affection for him. There was no point fighting it.

You wrapped your arms around him, and he lifted his elbows a little. You barely hugged in the daylight before that.

“The first rule of loving someone is not to hurt them. Everything else is improvisational and welcome, I guess”.

“Have you ever thought about hugging, too?” he mumbled, returning it. His hand lay on your shoulder, palm cupping it, and you felt like belonging. He smelt not worse than sea. He was slowly sponging the smell of May.

“How silly it is. You just catch someone passing and restrict them for two seconds, it’s so weird when you think about it. Stop, and press your body against mine, buddy. I’ll also slap you on the back or hold your head”.

You chuckled.

“It’s all a part of the old desire to be one with somebody, I think”.

Your face was muffled slightly by his chest, and you didn’t mind talking into his shirt.

“That’s why some people cannibalise each other”.

“People cannibalise each other because they’re sick, Y/N”.

You unclasped your arms, and you were quite satisfied at the nonchalant look in his eyes.

“Does it feel good?”

The wind was gently swaying you to and fro, and you stepped away from him, to see him better, at the same time trying to put your hair behind your ears. The silent shore howled in midday.

“What?” his face gave a funny expression, “canniba-”

He didn’t finish, - or, you didn’t hear. The wind pulled you and sucked you in because you stood above the natural rock vortex, going down into a V-shaped  notch in the cliff. The wind said, whooo? as it took you in. Your damn sandals did not help either, your ankle bending on an uneven ledge. You fell back first, and didn’t even yell, just ouched in surprise, like a kitten. This prison world somehow taught you both not to scream when falling, or when in pain.

The fall wasn’t scary, and wasn’t long. You plushed into the water your ass first, and dived out the next second, puffing in irritation. You were baffled, sure, but you could swim.

And then Kai went into the water like a dead brick, and started chaotically moving in all directions, coming in and out of water. As you tried to float, you moved away to give him space, but he kept wiggling like he didn’t have arms to sway. His head came up, and then went down under the water.

“Kai?”

You realized he doesn’t know how to stay on water. You realized he was drowning.

You tried grabbing him, but the mighty Aegean sea said, no, and the waters, restless in the narrow notch, threw you both back and forth. In these waves, even one person would find it hard to float: you’d have to swim. You were perfectly ready to do so, but Kai didn’t seem to even know what to do. Did he get sucked into the tunnel, too? Or did he jump?

“I can’t swim!” he announced, and his arms grabbed your neck like anybody would do. You went under the water with his weight and yours, and panicked. It was all just a very messy, air grabbing, water swallowing experience, having Kai drown right in your arms. He nearly drowned you, too, and in the end, after several attempts to pull him by his hair or the hoodie, after being thrown against the rock, and splitting your temple, and swallowing about a gallon of water, you could barely stay on water yourself.

I can’t do it, you thought, he’s going to die.

It’s so easy, to let someone die. You watched Kai fight the water like a butterfly with wet wings. You held on a rock, trying to breathe, to rush back to him. You hoped that maybe when he blacks out and stops jerking so much, you can pull him out. You asked yourself, your mind racing with panic, if you would try to pull him out if it was for real. If you knew he’d die for good. And decided it didn’t matter. If you were set on fixing that boy, even a little, just for yourself, to show him how to love, you couldn’t let him drown in here, either.

But you were so exhausted that as soon as you let go of the rock that the sea was washing your blood off you went under the water yourself. You tried rolling onto your back to keep yourself above the water, cursing the damn sea with all the words you knew. You reached out to Parker hanging vertically in the water, ethereal and white in the greenish clean water, bubbles around his porcelain face, and you blacked out.

You both woke up on the shore, dry and far away from the water, and you reckoned you died, too.

How mundane it was now, even though you’ve only died for the second time.

You just woke up, not a single drop of water in your nose. No coughing, no dramatic sea water spitting. Your hair was dry, and you were a bit hot, lying in the sun and all, and Kai was sitting next to you, blinking slowly at the brink of the sea.

You were torn between wanting to stroke him on the shoulder and call him an idiot. Maybe you could caress him gently while calling him an idiot.

He turned and looked at you like he studied you as his subject. His eyes were rich grey and just a bit narrowed.

“You come round longer than I do. Second time already. Do you see anything?”

You checked your electronic watch to see if it’s working.

“Why did you jump, you...”

You hummed instead of finishing.

“I thought you couldn’t swim”.

“Wait, wait a second”, you stood on your knees in the soft heat of the yellow sand, “I thought you said you couldn’t swim”.

“Yeah, no, I can’t”.

“So, why did you jump?” you yelled. Kai’s face expressed confusion.

“I assumed you’d drown. I didn’t want you to die alone”.

“God damn it”, you heard yourself. Something in you moved. You heard your own voice, spiked with worry. You were worried about him. He sat there in the sand, looking like he was cut out of a magazine, from the page that had an article about how bad the video games are for your kid; he sat there, looking like a puppy that knew it was about to be punished. You thought that maybe you yelled at him too much, forgetting how well Kai plays victim all the time. He could weave you like sails.

“God damn it, don’t do it again! You knew you’d die!”

He chuckled, with a portion of pity.

“Y/N, you know it’s not for real”.

“Yeah, but still. It still sucks, dying. Haven’t you had enough?”

He sighed.

That is how you love, by the way, you wanted to add. But something stopped you.

You also decided not to tell him you only drowned because you were trying to save his ass. Let him learn this lesson in selflessness he gave himself.

[gwynposting]

All Along the Watchtower (Ch. 3)

This story takes place after the “All Along the Watchtower” ending of Cyberpunk 2077, so spoilers ahead.

NSFW chapter ahead~

AO3 Link | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

Panam was never one for being able to hide her emotions, and the attempted smile betrayed by the rest of her cringing features gave testament to it. Cassidy, on the other hand, looked upon V with amusement. 

“Yeah, uh,” V started with an awkward cough, “guess the rockerboy part of Johnny didn’t overwrite my brain yet.” She stared down at Cassidy’s borrowed guitar with a tinge of blush on her cheeks before handing it back to him. 

“Well anytime you want to start learnin’, give me a holler,” Cassidy said with amusement as he set the guitar in his lap and plucked away at an idling tune. 

V smiled in appreciation and turned to Panam, “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow anyhow?”

Panam leaned forward, the fire in her eyes sparking. “We’re meeting up with a contact of ours that’s worked with us and other Aldecado families in the past - Bryce Bane. We’ve used Bryce as our point of contact for operations in the Tucson area in the past - we figure it’s a good idea to help get general intel as well as see how we can help solve your problem.”

V nodded along, “And we can trust this Bryce?” 

Panam scoffed, “Could you trust Rogue?” 

V grimaced in recognition. “Only after convincing her a 50 year old terrorist from her glory days was trapped inside my head.”

“So unless you got another cyberpsycho inside your noggin’, I wouldn’t get too friendly with them.” Panam could see the disappointment creep along V’s face - she was rather decent at hiding it, but the subtle quiver of the lip always gave her away. “But,” she resumed, “with all the gear we’ve gotten from the Arasaka raid, it’d be hard to say no to a fresh load of biz coming their way.” 

“Right…” V hesitated. “Okay. So - who, when, and where?”

Cassidy let out a chortle, “Mitch wasn’t kiddin’ about you city slickers.”

V smirked, giving her forehead a few taps, “I blame the ticking time bomb in my head.” 

Panam broke in, “We’re due to meet them around noon, on the western side of the city outskirts. Now, I don’t have reason to suspect they’ll pull anything, but it never hurts to come prepared. V, you’ll be accompanying me to the meet while Cassidy, Mitch, and Carol provide overwatch.”

“All eggs in one basket, hmm?” Carol interjected, sizing up the roster for this mission.

“More like this is our first meet with this city and I need to make sure we get off on the right foot. And that means no itchy or jumpy triggers. I know I can count on the vets for that.” Panam looked around the table to mixed reactions. “With that being said,” she continued, “I want to perform some reconnaissance of the area so we can set up 3 separate areas of vision around the meeting place. That means we’ll be setting out early tomorrow - around sunrise - to set up. 

“Mitch, V?” she gestured towards each respectively, “You two are going to drive out today and use the drone to do some recon. Note the terrain in the area and try to find overlooks that give a good view of the entire meeting sight as well as any paths to the area.”

V and Mitch made eye contact and nodded in agreement. “We’ll set out right away then,” Mitch said.

Panam smiled and nodded in affirmation, “Excellent. We’ll reconvene later tonight when you two return and go over the finer details.”

“Preem. Anything else?” V asked.

Panam shook her head, “Nope, that’s it. Just lemme know when you two get to the site.”

“Yes, mom,” V smirked, and Mitch failed to suppress his own smile. Panam shot her a deadpan look of annoyance. 

Mitch and V broke off and made their way over to the mechanics station. The Aldecados had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse of some sort - its floor had been picked clean so there hadn’t been much cleanup required at all. But now, it housed the mighty Basilisk, along with the plethora of other vehicle repair necessities.

Mitch pointed to one of the corners, “Drone case is over there. I’ll grab a couple battery cases just in case.”

“What for?” V asked.

“Well, never know if we might need to use the active camo when we get there. And if we do, I’d rather we be able to get a full scan of the area. Not cut corners, y’know?”

“Good thinking,” V said with a huff as she lifted the hefty clamshell in her arms.

Mitch made his way back over, battery packs slung around his shoulder, and together they set off to their ride. 

“How well do you know this Bryce?” V asked.

“As well as you know any fixer in Night City, really.” Mitch responded with a gruff. He was set to leave it at that, but looked over to V’s expectant face. “We didn’t have a particularly contentious past, it’s just been quite a while, and well... we’re runnin’ blind right now. A lot can change in 3 years.” 

V felt the gnawing of doubt creep back into her mind, despite her best efforts to keep it suppressed. The last thing she needed right now was to fall into despair before they even tried their first option. But even the existence of those lingering thoughts sent worry through her, every setback felt so severe and her mental health so weak, like fractured porcelain held in place by glue. A vace drifting through the air in slow motion, desperate for someone to catch her before she reaches the harsh and unyielding floor below.

Mitch seemed to be able to read the apprehension of V’s face, “But hey, we worked with some great techies back in Tucson. If they don’t know what to do, then they sure know someone who will.” 

A shaky smile formed on her face, but hopeful words did little to soothe her anxiety. But she didn’t have much time to ruminate over her thoughts as they pulled up to Mitch’s ride. They took turns loading their equipment onto the bed before climbing inside the cabin.

“Alright then, let’s get this started,” Mitch stated with finality. 

** 

V slung the canteen over her shoulder and let it rattle to the floor with a clank. She whinged at the sharp sound but was far too tired to react. It felt as if her entire body had a layer of dirt, like a second layer of skin. Yet all in all, it had been a very uneventful day, and she liked it that way. Though, she couldn’t say the same thing for tomorrow, whatever that would hold. V had been used to working with fixers in the past, but this time it was different. She wasn’t some solo anymore, money and fame the only thing on the mind. She was part of a family once more, her clan. When things went wrong, everybody had to suffer the consequences for it, whether physical or emotional. She had everyone else to think about. She had - 

Judy. V smiled as she saw the soft hue of blue light bleed through the cracks of the garage door. She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, pausing as she flexed and stretched her stiff limbs. In a similar fashion she shuffled off the boots from her feet.

V made her way over to the garage to poke her head in, but stayed silent as she saw Judy sitting in her desk chair, BD wreath wrapped around her head. But something caught V’s eye - many things, really. Judy’s hands clenched the armrests of her editing chair, her thighs pressed together as her legs writhed small motions back and forth. Her chest rose up and down with deep breaths, and the skin visible from the cut of her shirt was painted a deep blush.

V was about to raise an eyebrow in concern, but was interrupted by a soft mew that escaped Judy’s lips, followed by a much lower moan. V chuckled in response, Couldn’t wait for me it seems, she thought to herself. Deciding it wasn’t the best for her to interrupt Judy’s alone time while filthy, V made her way to the bathroom to wash away what she imagined were kilograms of sand and dirt from her body.

Of the few comforts she had gotten used to in Night City, hot water would have been one of the highest. The Bakkers had raised her through the traditional nomad lifestyle, but clearly she had softened up in a few ways. Shivers shot down her back as the cold water began rushing over her body, washing away the caked dirt and leaving goosebumps behind. 

V was meticulous when it came to cleaning, especially with her cybernetic implants. She gave extra care to clean the creases and ports of her mantis blades. She had never had a problem with them so far, and she planned to keep it that way. It had been a recurring fear of hers that some mechanism would fail her when she needed them most - whether they failed to open properly, or extended on their own without command. In those moments she could almost hear Panam rage at her tombstone for being stupid enough to let something like routine maintenance lead to her downfall.

Just as she finished rinsing the suds from her hair, she heard the bathroom door open and close. She turned her head to see Judy rolling her panties down her legs, bra already discarded on the floor. Without a word, Judy climbed inside and pressed V against the shower wall, capturing her lips with her own. Her hands betrayed her neediness as they traveled along V’s skin and down to her ass, roughly taking hold of each cheek. V yelped in surprise at the onslaught, but quickly gave in. V’s hands, momentarily idle, found new life as they began to roam up along Judy’s curves, coming to rest upon her cheeks. 

Judy paused and broke away, leaving both of them panting for breath. They looked into each others’ eyes, lidded and wanting. “Didn’t hear you come home,” Judy breathed.

“Didn’t want to interrupt your fun,” V smirked, “plus, I felt gross.” 

Judy’s hands began shifting, creeping around V’s front, “Probably woulda jumped your bones anyways.” 

V’s response was cut short by her own sharp exhale as Judy ran a hand along her hardening shaft. Judy bit her own lip in smug satisfaction as she felt V’s desire manifest within her grasp, before leaning back in, breathing warmth on chilled skin, and taking V’s lip between her teeth. The two came together once more as their lips interlocked, broken apart only through momentary calls for air or teasing bites. Judy’s hand began tender strokes, back and forth, along V’s length. Judy couldn’t help the butterflies that poured through her as she felt V’s hips begin to thrust ever so slightly - signs of a woman too pent up for her own good.

But Judy also felt that need, and it was quickly tended to. V’s curious hands traveled downwards until they reached Judy’s waiting sex. Her fingers teased along Judy’s entrance, lightly brushing over her clitoris. Judy flexed under her touch, her thirst finally given life. But V, not one to tease at the moment, deftly inserted two fingers and began to give slow, languid thrusts. A flare of pride rushed through V as Judy began to push into her grasp, grinding her clit against the palm of V’s hand. 

Each needy thrust and flex spurred the other on, as they fed off each other's need and want, pressing into each other, grasping, thrusting, their pace increasing with every shaky breath. Their kiss became sloppy and unfocused, disrupted through their descent into pleasure. The drone of the shower head and the cool of the pouring water faded into the back of their minds - all that mattered was their touch. 

Judy hovered over V’s lips, to whisper, “V-” as if but a gasp. V closed the distance once more and captured Judy’s lips as she came undone beneath her. Shivers radiated through Judy’s body as V’s fingers coaxed her through her orgasm. V’s free hand brought Judy closer, pressing her against V’s body for support as she came. Judy broke their kiss and slumped her head into the crook of V’s neck, her moans becoming muffled. 

But her comedown didn’t slow Judy’s pace - if anything, it increased her fervor. As she regained her footing, Judy changed tactics. Instead, she focused along V’s erogenous zones, kissing and leaving love marks along V’s jaw and neck to below her ear, stroking to the tune of the heady thrusts that met her hand. 

V was holding on, prolonging her suffering, until she heard Judy plead, “Please V -” and she came undone. With each stroke V shivered, her hips spasmed unpredictably and unpracticed, almost fucking the hand wrapped around her throbbing length. Each release brought haughty gasps that sent fire through Judy. 

With one final languid squeeze, V nigh collapsed on top of Judy. “Woah there,” Judy helped lean V back against the shower wall.

V returned the smile, albeit weary, before leaning in to give Judy one last kiss, “Couldn’t stop thinking about this all day.”

“My my, what a pervert~” Judy floated.

V snorted, “Says the one sending me nudes mid-op,”

“Details V, details,” Judy reached for the soap once more. “Think we need to get cleaned back up, hmm?” 

“And then we go straight to bed,” V concluded.

“Right. Bed.” 

[mo-nighean-rouge]

Gone - Epilogue

Jamie Fraser prepares to send Claire and Faith through the stones. A last-minute interference changes everything.

A/N: This is it, folks. Again, thanks to @ianmuyrray for betaing, and to all of you who have read along, or might just be starting now.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | AO3

November 20, 1748 | Paris, France

“Seas, a bhailach,” Jamie whispered to the beast as he brushed its shining coat. He’d taken quickly to the horses in Mary Hawkins Randall’s stables, but the black sorrel pony had stolen his heart for its similarity in appearance and character to his own Donas.

The horse was still riled after his afternoon jaunt with Faith. The lass had more confidence than experience on horseback, and had led the horse into mischief with a puddle, even under her father’s close supervision.

Jamie had sent Murtagh upstairs to deliver a squirming and filthy Faith to Claire. In fact, it had been quite a while since, and he hoped the man was not dallying his time flirting with Suzette, who had recently come into the Randall estate’s employ.

Dubh, aptly named by Faith, huffed impatiently as Jamie recalled Grey’s promise to release Donas, Brimstone, Thistle, and Blanc within ten miles of Lallybroch.

A week after their arrival in Paris, Jenny had written of Ian’s surprise to open the front door one morn and find all four beasts grazing in the kailyard.

It warmed Jamie’s heart to imagine the sight, and made him long for home all the more.

He hadn’t long to wait, as their parole was nearly complete and they would soon see the shores of Scotland once again. Much as he was willing to sacrifice the sight to see to his family’s safety, he was looking forward to leaving the confines of the city.

Jamie figured it couldn’t come at a better time. While Mistress Randall had welcomed their company in the lonesome and overwhelming time she had found herself, she had recently made a good match. According to Claire’s account, Robert Isaacs made Mary very happy, and the engaged couple were looking forward to staffing their well-established estate.

So long as the bairn arrived safely within the next few weeks, the Fraser family would stay whole and make it back to their homeland. Jamie couldn’t wait to re-introduce his children to Lallybroch, and most of all, watch the years touch Claire…

Jamie’s thoughts were interrupted by the swift re-entry of Murtagh, balancing Faith on his shoulders. While the lass wore a fresh dress, her face had only been wiped quickly, still smudged with streaks of dirt.

Murtagh grinned. “Ye’re needed upstairs, a charaid. The bairn seems to be comin’ quick, and Claire’s asking fer ye.” He bounced Faith once, and she broke into giggles.

Jamie dropped the brush and let it clatter to the stable floor. He wasn’t sure he could keep his jaw from doing the same. “Ah dhia, she’s laboring now?”

“Aye lad, get tae it. Ye don’ want to miss the birth of your son.”

Jamie nodded, clapping his godfather on the shoulder. He felt his eyes mist over as he studied the man that has served his family since before he was born.

“Ye have the bairns? The others?” he asked, stammering, his mind rushing to catch up.

“O’ course, just fetch us when ye’re ready.”

“Thank you, a ghostidh… for everything.”

“Och,” Murtagh exclaimed. “Dinna get soft on me now. Go see yer lady.”

Jamie raced out of the barn, heart hammering. That she be safe, she and the bairn...

“Da!” Fergus called in the corridor, the lad balancing a stack of clean rags from the kitchen. Jamie stopped short to gasp for breath.

The lad had called him such by a slip of the tongue during their first weeks back in Paris – so used to hearing Faith use the precious word – then had immediately blushed scarlet.

Jamie had simply clasped his shoulder and returned with a simple “Aye, mon fils?” as he had called the boy for more than a year.

Fergus had cautiously tested the word ‘Mama’ out on Claire not long after, bringing her to tears as her heart soared.

“You heard about Mama?” Fergus exclaimed, rocking back on his heels in his excitement.

“Aye,” Jamie cracked a smile. “Gi’ those here, I’ll take them on my way. I’d like ye to bide in the barn with Murtagh.”

The lad’s face fell. “But if Mama needs me –”

“Dinna fash about yer mam. Faith needs ye.”

Fergus brightened. “You can count on me, Da.”

Jamie concentrated on the soft weave of the old towels in his hands as he mounted the stairs two at a time, eager to reach his wife. In his hurry, he tripped over the blonde porcelain doll that had been cast aside and forgotten earlier. He shuddered. Annalise had once gifted the toy to his daughter, and its resemblance to the woman herself was that bit frightening.

He burst through their bedroom door, nearly plowing over Mary, who was setting water to boil as if she were lady’s maid to Claire, rather than the other way around.

“Apologies, Mistress,” he murmured, grasping her elbows to keep her upright.

“Jamie!” she exclaimed, squeezing his arm. “You’re just in time.”

He was careful as he squeezed back, unsure of the strength of his grip, especially as his eyes landed on Claire with her face red and scrunched in pain, breathing rhythmically at the gentle direction of Mother Hildegard. Her eyes popped open to meet his, relief swelling in their whisky depths.

Jamie crossed the room in four steps, his hand finding Claire’s naturally as he knelt to kiss the old woman’s wrinkled cheek. “Good afternoon to ye, Mother.” Mary had housed the nun in one of her many guestrooms for the past week, well aware that Claire’s time was quickly approaching.

He brought Claire’s warm, sweaty hand to his lips as he kneeled behind her stool, content for her to use him in any way she wished. He’d missed the birth of their first child, and had since sworn she’d never go through the experience alone again.

Just then, Claire braced her back against Jamie as she wailed in pain. Her short fingernails scored Jamie’s palms as the contraction crested and she breathed out deeply.

“That’s a braw lass, a ghraidh,” Jamie whispered, placing a kiss on her shoulder and caressing the swell of her belly.

Several sharp contractions later, Mother Hildegard continued softly coaching at Claire’s knee. “Keep breathing, my child. I can almost see the head.”

“Jamie,” Claire croaked, short of breath. “If anything happens…” she whispered, just as the powerful force overtook her body once again and she screamed.

“I willna hear that talk, Claire,” he answered sternly, massaging her lower back.

“Push, Claire.” Mother Hildegard’s voice rose above the noise of the room.

Jamie felt Claire inhale deeply once more, then gather her strength from him for the task ahead.

 ________________________________________

 Claire smiled through her tears, admiring the little one cradled in her arms. Mary had bathed the baby as Claire delivered the afterbirth, then passed their blessing swiftly to Jamie, who had admired the sight with flooded eyes until tiny lips had begun rooting around for sustenance.

Their newest child had latched on with impressive speed and skill, inspiring jokes about Jamie’s own appetite.

The man himself eased carefully to Claire’s side, placing a steady arm around her and pressing his face into her neck, just watching her sustain the new life.

Little brown eyes popped open as the meal ended, searching for something familiar in their new surroundings.

“Hello, baby boy,” she cooed. While the lad’s red fuzz stood out starkly from the moment he appeared, she was thrilled to find something of herself in him.

Jamie reached over her shoulder to brush the boy’s diminutive cheek with his broad thumb. “He’s a braw lad, Sassenach.” He kissed her hair. “Thank ye for our son.”

Claire grasped the hand he had left on her shoulder, swaying gently with the baby. “He’s just as much a gift from you to me. We’re so lucky to have him, all of them.”

A gentle knock sounded from the door, followed by Mary peering around the corner, her own wee Denys at her heels. “Ready for some introductions?” she asked softly.

Claire sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Please, bring them in.”

“Mama!” Faith scrambled in, dragging Murtagh behind her. She approached the bedside slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the bundle in Claire’s lap.

Jamie stood to give her a boost upward, settling their daughter between them easily. “What do ye think, a chuisle?”

“So bonny!” Faith whispered, reaching to grasp Claire’s free hand. “Ye did it all by yerself, Mama?”

Jamie chuckled. “She did, lass. Wasn’t that canny of your mam?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Da cheered me on.” She squeezed Faith’s hand. “I’m glad you like him, Lovey.”

Murtagh slapped Jamie’s shoulder before leaning over to pat Claire’s. “A wee lad, then?”

“Mmmph,” Jamie replied, grinning widely. 

Fergus appeared in the open doorway. “Look who is up from her nap!” Holding tight to his hand was a toddler with red hair already trailing halfway down her back, rubbing her eye with her free hand.

She perked up at the sight of her parents, dashing to the bedside and slamming into Murtagh’s knees. He scooped her up swiftly, depositing her on the mattress knees first. She scrambled closer to Claire’s knee, looming over little brother.

“It’s the bairn?!” she squealed, bouncing in place.

“Gentle, Bree.” Faith scolded. “He’s still wee, see?”

“Sae wee,” Brianna whispered reverently.

Jamie chuckled. “You were this size once too, a nighean ruaidh.”

“And you were even smaller,” Claire added, tickling Faith’s chin.

The girls exchanged dubious looks.

“Nah.”

“Canna be!”

Fergus stopped next to Claire. “How do you feel, Mama?”

Claire’s heart warmed for the son of her heart. He’d offered to wait on her hand and foot these last few weeks, to the point that she’d laughed and told him to take a rest for himself.

Claire leaned her head against him as his arms folded carefully around her neck. “Just fine, my love. Would you like to hold him?”

Fergus nodded, his eyes wide.

Claire eased the baby into his arms, reminding him to be gentle of his head and neck. She welcomed Bree into her arms not a moment later, smoothing hair out of her blue eyes.

Murtagh cleared his throat, ineffectively covering his emotions. “So who do we have here?

Claire met Jamie’s twinkling eye, nodding her approval.

“This is Robert Franklin Murtagh William Fraser.” He swallowed deeply. “Our second son.”

Murtagh’s bushy eyebrow had creased at the second of the boy’s names, but he stood visibly straighter at the third. “’Tis a fine name.”

“That’s so many,” Bree stage-whispered, to the amusement of everyone else.

Faith rolled her eyes dramatically. “No more than you, Brianna Ellen Claire Jan-dit Fraser,” she taunted.

“Alright,” Claire sighed. “The lot of you all have as many names as the others. It’s certainly not a competition.”

Jamie chuckled. “That’s enough o’ that. Stop bouncing. We should let your mam get some rest.”

The children each kissed their mother’s cheek, then let their father herd them out the door as he cradled wee Rob to his chest.

Claire watched them file out the door one by one, each stopping for one more glimpse of her and the baby. She waved at them fondly, blowing kisses. Before Jamie could follow them into the corridor, she caught his hand.

“Stay?” she asked him.

“Aye.” A smile tickled his lips. “I willna go far.”

Claire patted the empty space next to her. “Here.”

He turned, then folded her into his side carefully.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, watching their son sleep until her own eyes drifted shut, a promise of their life together, and their family’s to come.

April 17, 1967 | Oxford, England

Professor Roger MacKenzie Wakefield shuffled through the ever-growing piles of paper crowding his office desk. Amid his lesson plans, papers still to grade, and disorganized files, he’d be surprised if he set off for home in time for supper.

Even still, his curiosity overwhelmed him as he broke the seal on an envelope of research left for him by his colleague. Ever since he was a boy, fascinated by the solemn disappearance of Claire Randall, he had pieced together clues about her whereabouts with the help of his beloved uncle. Her husband’s death last year had only energized his search. Perhaps if he could find answers at long last, it would bring meaning to the most discouraging period of Frank’s life.

More and more, the evidence had begun to point toward something not of this world, much as Mrs. Graham had insisted over the years. He retrieved the file that he had been accumulating for decades, thumbing through what he already knew. The marriage certificate for one James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp, the Deed of Sassine willing the Lallybroch Estate to a James Murray, and a curious pamphlet of medical advice attributed to a C.E.B.R. Fraser.

Roger dumped the new stack of documents on top of the current chaos. The top sheet caught his eye, heart skipping a beat as he read the photocopied print dated from the 1770s, with only the last digit smudged:

"It is with grief that the news is received of the deaths by fire of JAMES MACKENZIE FRASER and his wife, MISTRESS CLAIRE BEAUCHAMP FRASER, in a conflagaration that destroyed several crofts on the estate of Broch Tuarach. Their five children: FERGUS CLAUDEL, FAITH GLENNA, BRIANNA ELLEN, ROBERT FRANKLIN, AND JULIA ELIZABETH, also perished and now lay at rest with them."

Roger shook his head and blinked. Once. Twice. All the hope and warm imaginings he held for the kind woman that he was almost sure he remembered, all for them to be dashed with one headline bearing tragedy.

If there was something, anything, he could do for her and her family, he would in a heartbeat.

He stilled, skin tingling. Christ, but who was to say there wasn’t…

FIN

*Note: The obit is adapted from a screenshot of the news clipping from Outlander Season 4, all credit due.

[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter V

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Characters: Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA 18+

Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.  

Chapter Warning: Angst, talk of violence, drug use

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other.  Boys will be boys…

Chapter V

I can't figure out why I'm so edgy today.  For all intents and purposes, I should be pretty fucking happy.  I had a great time last night.  I slept well, took a good shit this morning, and had a delicious breakfast with Ivar.  Instead of pancakes, today, he made French toast.  I was thoroughly impressed.  

I even worked on a few things in the basement while I waited for Thora’s morning classes to be done.  I meant it last night when I told her I wanted to spend the day with her today. I just wish that I was in a better mood now.  ‘Cause right now, everything is annoying the fuck out of me.  

Sometimes, I can’t stand how childish Thora is.  I mean, she’s a grown-ass woman, so why does her room look like a five-year-old’s?  Everything in here is a hideous shade of pink.  Stupid fucking unicorns, teddy bears, and little porcelain things decorate her shelves and her bed is always perfectly made up with a fluffy pink and white comforter. It’s just all so…innocent. 

I shouldn’t be all that surprised – her room reminds me of her.  Sweet…girly…fucking perfect, just like her. It’s fucking sickening. Sometimes everything I love about her, the fact that she’s so different from the people I like to party with is the one thing about her that drives me fucking insane.  

I need to get out of this room and get some air before I break every fucking thing in here. 

I walk out of her dorm and outside into the chilly afternoon.  The autumn breeze is cool on my face and helps me focus on something other than my uneasiness.  It’s so crisp out here, today.  Believe it or not, this is my favorite time of year to party.  I don’t know what it is about the fall, but people seem to be out more than they are in the spring or the summer.  Maybe it’s the wonderful colors of the season or the smell of the decaying leaves?  Whatever it is, people seem to come out in droves and I’m fucking here for it.  There are so many more adventurous people that are willing to party this time of year, it gets my blood racing.

Jesus, am I still thinking about partying?  Normally, the day after Ivar and I go out, I just concentrate on being with my girl.  Being with her helps me put my life back in perspective. She’s my reminder of what my other life is going to be like when I get this hunger under control.  She helps dull the cravings for a few more days before the gnawing starts again and I need to feed it.  I know I’ve been wanting to party more often than I usually do, but it’s never been the next day.  Being around her is supposed to help me forget about it.  

But, right now it’s not working.  

I need to get myself together because when I’m with Thora, she depends on me to take care of her.  I do for her what Ivar does for me.  Besides giving me something else to concentrate on other than finding the next one, when I’m with her, I just want to comfort her. Especially, since she cries a lot. She's like a little girl that's not in control of her emotions. Whether she's happy, sad, or scared, the tears are the same. I know it sounds weird, but I like when she cries. I think it’s because I can usually make it all better. At least, I'm so busy trying, that partying doesn't cross my mind…not a lot anyway. 

Today, though, I can’t comfort a damn soul.  Not with my heart about to jump out of my chest.  This fucking anxiety is overwhelming. I had fun last night so I shouldn't even want to again this soon.

I should be able to ignore this. It's not like I can't function without it. It's more irritating than anything, like a constant nagging. I like I can hear it calling me from far away, but it's getting louder by the minute. I bet it was because I had to rush last night. I was so busy trying to finish before that guy died and shitted on me that I finished too quickly.  That’s got to be the reason.  That is exactly why I  hate rushing.

If we go out tonight I'm gonna do it slowly; take my time and do it right. I'm going to do everything I want and I won't give myself a time limit. That's the only way to make my palms stop sweating and get my heart to stop beating like I’m running a goddamn marathon. Yeah, going slow will make it better. It has to because I hate this feeling.

I reach my forefinger and thumb into the small change pocket of my jeans and retrieve the two pills there.  Without hesitation, I pop the two Klonopin in my mouth before taking a healthy sip from my water bottle.  I wish I had something stronger. That reminds me that Ivar and I need to visit that guy he knows across town to reup on party favors.  What kind of hosts would we be if we didn’t keep libations to put our guests in the mood?  We’ve really been slacking, lately.  I know for at least the past week, I haven’t been all that impressed with our selection.  I’ve just been reaching in the bottom of the bowl and using whatever I pick up.  I haven’t been properly stoned in at least 5 days.  This shit is amateur hour. But, it’s better than nothing to take the edge off. 

My hand shakes as I bring that guy’s lighter to the end of my cigarette, but it stops as soon as the taste of menthol enters my mouth. My lungs open up, clouding with thick smoke and a sudden calm washes over me. My eyes close on their own as the head rush takes over. It's not as good as I’ll feel when these pills kick in, but it'll do for right now.

Thora’s arms come around my waist and I roll my head over to look at her. She looks like she's worried about me. I have been a little quiet today, and there's no good explanation I can give her. She just thinks I'm not feeling well.

I'm not.

"You okay?" Her lips poke out in a pout as she rests her chin on my arm. She can't see the bruise on my shoulder under my long sleeve shirt, but it hurts. I think it happened carrying the blonde from the front seat to the warehouse. It was hard to maneuver him from the way he was sitting in the car to draping him over my shoulder. I must have bumped up against the car door or something because now I have a huge bruise.

Trying not to flinch, my arm comes around her shoulder and I pull her closer to me. "Fine." For the most part that's true. I do feel better holding her, I just don’t know long this reprieve will last.

"Let's go for a walk." She grabs my hand and I follow behind her. 

My lips start to turn up into a smirk and Thora turns to me and smiles. I feel a little twinge of guilt because she thinks my look is about her.  Honestly, I’m thinking about the fact that her campus is crawling with people that I could party with. If Ivar were here right now, we'd have a fucking field day. There are so many bored people around just looking to have fun. We could have our pick of them and show them the best time. There no telling some of the shit we could get to if we just let our imaginations run wild.

As the leaves crunch under my feet, I watch the way Thora kicks them with each step she takes. She's so graceful and childlike; she's going to make the perfect mother for my children. This hobby is just that, a hobby. I don’t understand how Ivar can doubt my decision.  Watching the impish way Thora moves, the concerned way she stares, the careful way she worries about me, I know that when this over it'll work out with us. She's exactly the transition I need from this phase of life to my next one.

She loves me and I think I love her. At least that's what I tell myself all the time. I love that I'm going to marry her and that she's going to raise my children. I love that she's so innocent and that she knows that I won't hurt her. I love the way she needs me. That means I love her, right? It doesn't matter really. I will love the life that I'm supposed to have with her.

Her hand grips mine tighter as we approach the people standing in the middle of the quad. Something is off. They're all huddled around one guy, hanging on his every word, whispering to each other, shrugging, and offering sympathy every now and again. Thora's arms wrap around mine and her head leans on my shoulder like she's feeling their pain. "His boyfriend didn't come home last night," she says quietly to me.

I look from her worried blue eyes to the blue-green eyes of the dark-haired man standing there. His red-rimmed eyes are swollen from crying and yet look sunken in on his pale face.  The look of terror in his eyes is reminiscent of the way Thora looks when she talks about Ivar. He's petrified and for some reason, my stomach starts to drop because of it.

The toe of my Doc Marten creates a small hole in the ground as I twist my foot to extinguish the cigarette. I can't stop staring as Thora moves to stand in front of the tall, brunette. She must know him.  Looking at her face, I can tell she’s feeling his pain.  It's enough to make me want to hurt him so he can stop hurting her. 

"Kalf, still no word?"

Fresh tears spring to Kalf’s eyes when he shakes his head. "We fought last night.” He uses his entire hand to wipe the tears running down his face, “A few people said they saw him dancing at Danger, but then he just disappeared.”  His voice starts to crack with each word as his fear starts to get the better of him, “We fight all the time, but he always comes home. He hasn't called or anything. Erlendur always calls."

"Maybe he just needs time to get his head together." My voice comes out soft and unsure. I don't even know why I spoke. 

When Thora's teary eyes turn in my turn in my direction, my throat starts to close.

Erlendur. This Erlendur is the guy from last night, he has to be. He was the one at Danger. He was the one that talked about his boyfriend with Ivar as we walked to the car. 

Shit! His name was Erlendur. He wasn't just the blonde tramp that we met at a club, but a kid; a college student with a boyfriend and friends, including my girl. He had a real-life like he was a real person. Why the fuck did he have to be real? He was just supposed to be a good time, not a person with a life outside of that moment.

By the time I open my eyes and steady myself on my feet, Thora's arms are around me again. I can't stand to be around her right now. Those innocent blue eyes are tearing into me at a level like I've never known before. Thora is hurting and it's because of me. She's worried about her friend because of something I did. I'm supposed to be the one to protect her and I've done just the opposite. 

Kalf's concerned eyes for Erlendur are exactly how Thora's eyes cloud over with concern for me. "Hvitserk? Are you alright?"

My head shakes as I try to keep myself from throwing up. "I don't feel so hot. I'm gonna take off." I offer her a smile to keep her calm, but she doesn't seem to be convinced by it. Her forehead is warm on my lips and her body is soft in my arms, but this is all I can give her right now. The guilt is like molten lava creeping up my neck. I know my cheeks are turning red and the pounded in my head lets me know right away that this isn't going to end well. "I'll call you later." 

Turning to Kalf, I stuff my hands in my pockets and refuse to meet his eyes. "I hope your friend turns up soon."

I barely manage to get around the building before I bend at the waist and try to catch my breath. I hate to hyperventilate. My hands rest on the top of my thighs as I try to control my breathing. I'm almost gulping in the air but it isn't helping. The only thing it's doing is making my throat burn and my lungs feel like they're going to explode. 

"Fucking, Erlendur. Motherfucker." Muffled curses pour from my lips, while I stumble my way to the car door. The wheezing in my chest doesn't stop, but it slows when I focus my attention on the fact that that fucker had a fucking name. 

I don't give a fuck about him or what we did to him. It does bother me though that the people he left behind are worried. They have no idea how we partied with him. They don't know that my face was the last one he saw before he stopped breathing altogether. Would Thora cry if she knew that Ivar beat him and skinned parts of his body? Would she be devastated if she knew that his skull was probably cracked when I slammed his head on the table repeatedly? Would it break her heart to know that we set him on fire and stood around to watch his body burn?

I can't hurt Thora. She needs me and I did this to her. I can't handle knowing that.

I don't know how I make it home, but when I look up, I'm already barefoot and climbing the stairs. 

I feel sick, shaky... confused. I don't know what to do. The only thing I can do is open Ivar's door and close it quietly behind me. He's taking a nap, but he must have heard me come in because his head rises from his pillow right before he pulls back his covers. 

My movements are slow, but I manage to make it to his bed and tuck myself in close to him. "Erlendur. His fucking name was Erlendur." My voice cracks while I try to catch my breath. "He was real, Ivar. He had a name and a life and friends, and…"

"Shhhh, baby.  It's alright." His voice is a gentle whisper and his safe arms wrap protectively around me. He lovingly rubs my back while rocking me softly, "I'm here, Serk."

Nodding my head against his chest, I feel the tears slip from my eyes. "Make it better." This is where I need to be. “Hold me tight.”  I just need to be in his arms and let him protect me as only he can. "Promise me you won’t let me go."

His warm lips kiss the tears falling from the corner of my eye before he presses them to my forehead, “Never,” I feel him whisper against my skin.  

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[fleetwoodmoth]

Family

Chapter 7

With all those death omens in the new Night City Wire I’m fighting back my sadness by writing more of this au, enjoy! 

            Vesper let the smoke curl for her lips in a thick spiraling cloud which drifted up and dispersed like bubbles rising to the surface of water across the ceiling. Jackie’s cheek was pressed against her stomach, his body resting between her legs, hands pressed against her hips. She reached down and ran her nails against his scalp, eliciting a rumbling sigh from his chest. After a moment Jackie turned his head and pressed a kiss against her stomach, the action soft and lingering, like he was worshiping her. While tender, something nagged at Vesper. Last night he had called her out of the blue while she was with a client, not something he had ever done before making the reason he called even more suspicious. He had sounded strained, almost nervous, his voice trying to stay soft despite the way it dropped unintentionally, like he had something stuck in his throat. She had expected some kind of explanation when she met him at his place that night, but it had already been nearly 24 hours since and he still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room.

       “Baby,” Vesper said quietly.

       “Hmm?”

       “What’s on your mind?” She asked.

       There was a long pause, too long to be nothing, before Jackie finally spoke “Am I that obvious?”

       Vesper let out a small sigh of relief that he didn’t try to deny it.

       “There are times where you’re being yourself, and times where you seem lost in your own head, I’m worried about you,” she said softly.

       “I don’t mean to worry you jaina, I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

       Vesper hummed an acknowledgement, offering him the blunt which he accepted, taking a drag before exhaling “It involves you.”

       She perked up at that, her heartbeat leaping slightly, anxiety running through her veins as she tried to go through every little thing she may have done to upset him. He must have felt her freeze up, because he quickly added “your safety. I should have told you sooner.”

       Somehow that was better than what she had made up on the spot. Maybe her last relationship was a little more than just heartbreaking.

       “This guy I borrowed money from a while back, well I repaid him a few weeks ago, now he’s come back now saying I owe more.”

       Vesper relaxed back into the pillows before nodding, a new fear creeping into her stomach.

       “When I called you, it was cause he told me to, implied something was wrong. I think your client was his friend, like insurance so that I wouldn’t beat him to death just for threatening you.”

       Vesper swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry and sticky, she tried to blame the smoke as she reached for the bottle by her bed.

       “He was a bit of a dick,” she said, voice scratchy as she took a sip of water.

       He only went by Dee, and he had under tipped the bar staff, got aggressively territorial the more he drank, and finished after about three minutes before throwing her out. She had had worse, but he was by no means on her list of favorites.

       “He didn’t hurt you did he?” Jackie asked, kissing her stomach again before pushing himself up on his elbows so he could look up at her properly.

       “No, he was a jackass, but if what you say is true, he probably was under orders not to,” she said cupping his face with her hands.

       Jackie took a hit off of the blunt before kissing his way up to her face.

       “Good,” Jackie kissed at her neck and jaw, and she gave him time to process what he wanted to tell her.

       “I need you to lay low, just for a little while, until Friday.”

       She made him pull back to look at her again.

       “I don’t want to be a passive player in this, if this man is threatening us then I want to help,” she said.

       Jackie blinked a few times, looking slightly dazed at her reply.

       “But it’s my fuck up, you shouldn’t have to get involved.”

       “But I am, and even if I wasn’t, I’d still want to help you, because I—“ she stopped herself, her throat tightening in sudden panic “—because I don’t want you having to deal with this alone.”

       They sat in their shared quiet, Jackie dropping his gaze, contemplating her answer. She didn’t like the idea of being used as some kind of bargaining chip, especially to hurt someone she cared about, and she hoped Jackie would understand.

       “Also I… think I have some people who can help,” she said, Jackie sitting up with interest.

       “Oh?”

       “I told you, the Moxes take care of each other, I’m a Mox, you’re with me so you’re part of the family,” she said.

       “You think they’d want to help me though?”

       “Well, since your friend threatened me, then it involves them, which means yes, they will.”

       She pursed her lips and Jackie pulled himself up, kissing her deeper than she had anticipated, causing her to let out a small surprised giggle.

       “I’m not about to reject something like that, but just know that if this gets too hot I want you to be safe,” he said after a minute, pulling away just slightly, eyes tracing her face, voice soft.

       “I promise to stay safe, if you promise to do the same.”

       He kissed her again, and Vesper draped her arms around his neck, she could feel the tension leave him, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. She couldn’t help but smile, he trusted her, and she felt for the first time that maybe she could be happy with someone.

         “He’s with me,” Vesper said as she and Jackie blew into Roxie’s bar together.

       Vesper had spent most of her nights here early on as a joygirl, it was like a communal safe house for the Mox and their associates, and while most of Vesper’s clients sought her out outside of the Mox, she still felt like she was coming home when she saw the pink neon signs.

       “Volt honey who is this lovely piece of arm candy?”

       Vesper turned from where she and Jackie had settled at the bar to the over modded Mox behind her.

       “Hey Rath,” she said with a smile.

       Rath stood at about 5’6” and was nearly completely covered in modded material. His skin was a canvas of blue ‘tattoos’ that had been etched into the porcelain like material that he had instead of skin, and his hair was a bright blue, cropped short against his scalp. She had met Rath when he was still mostly organic, they used to smoke and talk shit out front before both of their demand had risen to a point where they could only message each other throughout the day.

       “This is Jackie,” Vesper said, turning to introduce him officially.

       “Oh this is the Jackie Welles? Color me honored,” he said holding out a hand which Jackie took to shake.

       “We’ve heard so much about you,” Rath said, resting his free hand on top of Jackie’s.

       Vesper blushed, turning back to her drink, not making eye contact with either of the men beside her. She didn’t think she had talked that much about Jackie, it had only been around a month since they had started seeing each other, even less since they had started letting themselves become romantically involved.

       “C’mon Rath, don’t crowd the man,” she said.

       “Ey it’s fine, it’s nice to meet Vesper’s friends,” Jackie said, his voice relaxed.

       Vesper blushed further, not because she was embarrassed of him, but because he seemed legitimately interested in her life. Every day was like a new surprise with him but it was more like a blooming flower instead of a stinking onion, it was a gift and for the first time she stopped to wonder what she had done to be so lucky. But that moment passed as she remembered why they were there in the first place, a big sharp thorn in the rose bush.

       “V darling you have to tell me where you found such a catch,” Rath said over his shoulder to her, having situated himself between her and Jackie’s bar stools.

       “Maybe some other time, I’m—we’re here on Mox business.”

       Rath seemed to perk up even further, the prospect of violence always got him excited, more so even than a hot piece of ass.

       “Oh?”

       “We need some firepower and possibly back up, Jackie has a Valentino breathing down his neck.”

       Rath looked between the two of them before cracking a wide smile.

       “How exciting!”

       “Keep it in your pants Rath, we’re trying not to spill too much blood.”

       “Less exciting, but we can do that, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

       Rath pushed himself away from the bar, taking both Jackie and Vesper’s hands and tugging them along, indicating that they follow. Across the neon blue dance floor and past the braindancers slumped on nearby booths was a door to the back rooms, and an old world velvet and glass lounge where several Mox members waved and greeted Vesper who took her time to acknowledge them all. She wondered if the Valentinos were like this, she only had a few customers from them, Jackie being the most recent and the way he spoke about family made her assume is was at least somewhat similar.

       “Now what are you looking for? Firepower to scare this Valentino off? A good old fashioned mugging? Dirt on him and his?” Rath rattled off the options like it was the bar menu.

       Vesper settled across from Rath who had perched himself on one of the free couches, looking to Jackie who took a seat beside her.

       “I need him to know he can’t fuck with my family,” Jackie said after a minute, the comment catching Vesper off guard. She had been so insistent on Jackie being part of the Mox family because he was with her, but she never thought about how she was a part of his world now too. She slyly slipped her hand into his palm, returning her gaze to Rath as she felt him squeeze.

       “Oh alright, intimidation, you got guns?”

       Jackie let out a laugh that made Vesper’s heart flutter. She composed herself before giving Rath a nod.

       “I got fire power, that’s not the problem, he made it clear he can get at my girl, and I want him to know that’s a bad idea, you get me?”

       Maybe it was the Valentino in him or maybe it was just Jackie being Jackie, but he was clearly on the same wavelength as Rath.

       “He threatened Vesper? Our Vesper? Ha!” Rath let out a sharp laugh “does he know he stuck his dick in the hornets’ nest by doing so?” Rath clicked his lighter as he brought a cigarette to his lips to light it.

       “No, he thinks he can get to me anywhere,” Vesper added.

       “Then we just show him the same deal, you got a name for this guy?”

       “He goes by Bolts, but his name is Rodrigo Aguirre,” Jackie said.

       “Alright, we can do some digging, should have his home address and the home addresses of his closest friends by the end of the day.”

       Jackie leaned back, eyebrow raised “that quick?”

       “Yeah, you got a whole birth name, that’s as good as gold to a good fixer.”

       “Shit, I forgot what it was like to have people at my back,” Jackie said.

       “Don’t sweat it, you make Volt happy, you’re a good guy as far as she’s told us-“ Rath winked at Vesper who blushed “-that means you’re good with the Mox, we’ll get you guys the info.”

       “Thank you Rath,” Vesper said, leaning forward to take his hand in her own.

       “You’re welcome babe, you two go home and lay low for a bit, I’m sure you’ll figure out something to keep yourself occupied while we get the shit,” Rath said.

       Vesper pulled back, shaking her head with a smile. There was something about being with her people, the Mox, Rath, alongside the man who made her infinitely happy so far. It felt good, warm, it felt like home.

[marshmallowprotection]

T H E S A V I O R & H I S B E L I E V E R

Based on Bad Ending 3. 

Saeran and Lila both lose their chance to escape and somebody takes advantadge of that to bend them to her will. 

Saeran x Lila Lancelot (OC)

Words: 3270

It had been child’s play, to say the least, like taking candy from a baby. 

Nothing more, and nothing less than that. All it took was a little yank of an arm behind one’s head until they begged for mercy and lamented, pushing their limit for pain until they eventually cracked and had no choice but to submit and accept their fate. 

Sure, there was always a hint of trepidation and hesitancy from those who didn’t know what was good for them at first, but she was quick to break them of these awful habits. It only took a bit of this, a dash a that, a sprinkle of such the right amount of applied pain, and when you wrapped it all up in a delicate bow, it was just right again. 

Saeran had been following a fool’s errand. 

Why would he ever think that he was made for the outside world? Certainly not, she knew him better than that. He had not survived and flourished there, no, no. He had spent his childhood miserable and lost until she had found him and taken him to the safety of the walls. 

It had been the doing of that girl. 

Whenever something seemingly started to go wrong in her divine plans the issue always led back to Lila. She really had gotten in the way and caused far too much trouble to warrant any good feelings. A part of Rika wanted to throw her away and try again, but the kindness in her heart was too big for her to do such a thing like that. 

Why ever should she throw any somebody who had the power to sway Saeran AND Ray? 

That would be a waste of something that could provide far too much good in her quest to redeem him in the holy light that could only exist here in Magenta. Self-reflection was important and Rika was glad she stopped for a moment to think about what would be best done to fix this mess. She was surprised that it didn’t occur to her sooner.

She could use her, just as she used Saeran, just as she had used Ray. She did just that, too. Once Rika decided that her devil had given her the best path to follow, she went through with it. Saeran had thought that he was going to be leaving, but, as a matter of fact, he would be sleeping for quite some time. 

Just as long as it would take to break the spirit of that pathetic princess. 

It took time. 

It always took a bit of time and effort to figure out the best way to make someone crack. Lila had already been pushed to her limits by Saeran as he had spent weeks toying with her feelings and emotions for the sake of a thrill, and that left her in quite the vulnerable state. She had thought that Saeran had finally abandoned her once and for all when he never came to find her. 

She feared that it had all been a cruel trick. 

That he dangled her freedom, and the freedom that she had wanted for him and Ray out on a string only to leave her gasping for air like fish out of water on the way to market. Her heart was heavy and her tears were close to drying out after so long of being scared and alone. 

The pitiful fact was—

Lila would not give up on that boy. 

It was her fatal flaw, her hamartia. Even when the rest of the world had given up on her and she should have given up on belief and faith, she never let herself give up on the boy that had shown her so many feelings and experiences. From the fondness that Ray had given her to the delicate hesitation that came from the nervous Saeran. 

Rika could see it in those eyes of hers. 

The childish devotion that was tied to. She almost pitied Lila. She had seen that look in her own eyes at one time when she was a different person. The fact that she had been broken and thrown about like a ragdoll was her own fault, she should have known better than to love somebody. 

Love… hah… 

It’s such a shame that when you think you have that, the person judges you and casts you aside when you reveal your truest self. It’s also daunting when someone looks upon you for the first time with such faith that you do not know what to do with yourself. That was why Saeran couldn’t bear to look at that poor thing in the eyes because her blind devotion terrified him. 

Blind devotion can be such a beautiful thing. He was not ready to feel on the receiving end of those feelings. 

That was why he was led astray. 

It was why he had failed. 

Rika realized that when she spoke to the broken doll for the first time, and she could see it reflected her eyes. 

She saw something that she could have never seen in the awful traitorous man that cast her aside like garbage when she revealed her true nature to him one fateful afternoon. Something that her devil relished and found sheer satisfaction from, deliciously so. 

She could work with this, she could twist this narrative so wonderfully, she could benefit from this… most of all, paradise could benefit from this. She could see why her dear, useless, pathetic, childish Saeran had fallen for Lila. She could also see why this nervous, terrified, shivering porcelain doll had sought out comfort from him. 

“You miss him, don’t you? Poor thing, abandoned because he didn’t know what was good for him, right?” She cradles the poor girl’s face in her hands. Lila is listening to her every word because there’s nothing else left for her to do. “It’s okay. You can be honest with me. I of all people know what it feels like to love someone who forsakes them.” 

“…He just said he would come back. I believed him. I want to believe him, but he’s still not back and it’s been so long…” her voice is quiet. “If he… if he left without me… that’s okay… right? As long as… as long as he’s safe out there. It shouldn’t matter what happens to me, right? I just want Saeran to be safe.”

She started to shake her head at that notion that sprang into her head.  Her dry eyes find the will to let a few tears go free. She chokes back a heavy sob and holds herself as tightly as she can. It isn’t much. It’s barely working. She’s on the brink of losing it, and her pieces are so close to the ledge. 

Good. That’s just what Rika wanted. 

Rika nodded her head as if he understood those feelings and where she was coming from. “That’s alright. I get it. We both wanted the same thing, you know? I wanted Saeran to be safe, as well. Sure, our intentions were a little different but we both care about that poor boy, right?” 

“…Yeah.” Lila mumbled. 

She watched, and she waited. Rika could find no sign of attitude or ill-meaning in those words. Long ago, the girl would have fought with her for saying such a thing and pushed her away. But it appeared as though that her will had been so broken that she didn’t or couldn’t fight anymore. 

Rika smiled, “You must be wondering why I came to see you today after all this time. Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t mean to. There is much business to take care of and I can’t regulate everything out. I come to you with my proposition, my dear. Don’t look so down, princess. I won’t let you rot away here.” 

Lila lifted her gaze from the ground and looked dead into Rika’s eyes. She was scared and hopeful, but as much as she was, she was also nervous about listening to anything that Rika may have had. She was looking for a hidden meaning under those words but she would not find what she was looking for tonight. 

She didn’t reply to which Rika expected. 

It mattered not. 

What mattered now was that she said what needed to be said. 

“What would you say if I told you that I had a way for you to be with Saeran?” She asked. “Would you be interested?” 

Silence. 

“Isn’t he gone?”

“He’s never really gone,” Rika replied. 

“What does it matter? He clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Lila muttered. Her voice was bitter, and it was lovely. “It doesn’t seem to matter what I want. If he’s okay without me, then that’s okay. I won’t… let it bother me. He deserves to be happy.”

Rika paid no mind to that fact, she only continues to speak her mind and let the words flow. “I assure you he isn’t happy. You just wanted to be able to be with him without anyone separating you. Isn’t that what you want? I realize… I may have acted hastily in my past decisions, and I regretfully may have made a few mistakes in my actions. I know you might be quite hesitant to trust me, but I’ve realized that to fix things I need to start with those that I have… well, hurt the most recently

“Sounds funny coming from, well, you,” Lila mumbled. “All you’ve ever done to Ray and Saeran is hurt them. I don’t see why you would just… change.” 

Rika chuckled. It was a soft, delicate sound. “I’ve changed, I promise you that. When Saeran… and I spoke before he left, I realized what I had been doing was rather extreme, and how badly I had hurt the two of you. He really put into perspective for me. I love that boy like he’s my own… and I messed up. I only wanted to protect him. I overreacted. I was scared of losing him. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m only human. We make mistakes. This place is supposed to be a paradise for those who have suffered, not a place where suffering occurs to people.” 

Lila didn’t respond to that. 

”I should have been protecting both of you, and those precious feelings you shared together. I wanted to help, but my help wasn’t the right kind of help. So, I want to fix this. I want you to and my dear Saeran to be happy here. This could really be a place where those who have been hurt can come to seek comfort. But, I can’t do it alone. I need both of you. You both have shown me something I forgot long ago in the past. Will you give me the chance to fix it? I promise I will make things better if you do. If not for me, for Saeran. I can’t stand that he may be sad or hurting. Doesn’t he deserve to be happy… don’t you deserve to be happy…?” 

Lila hesitated, and then she slowly nodded her head. 

She didn’t have anything to do. 

There was nothing but this. 

If she didn’t give Rika a chance, then she could be sitting here in this toy box until she took her final breath. At the very least, if she agreed to this, then she could see the outside world again. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

Saeran… Ray… she missed them. She wondered how they were doing, and if they really had gotten away from Magenta. Or if they were hiding out somewhere from this place. By what Rika was saying, it sounded like they could have been nearby or still in contact with this place. 

She needed to know. 

She needed to talk with him. 

Lila was just… tired. 

She was tired of fighting, and she was tired of seeing these four walls and nothing more. She was starting to lose her mind. All she wanted was to be able to go back to the start. It hurt, it hurt a lot, and although that quiet voice in her head was telling her run, she just submitted. 

“Okay. I’ll… trust you.” 

“I’m so happy to hear you say that. I promise you won’t regret this. You and Ray… you’ll be so happy together very soon.” 

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠

“Oh, dear, it looks like you need a bit of sprucing up before the prayer. Let’s just fix this for you, Ray,” she patted down his hair and made sure to carefully tame those messy locks underneath her fingers. She then removed the few wrinkles from his garment. “There, now you’re really looking like a real Savior.” 

Saeran was quiet. 

He was wearing his own variation of her ceremonial robes. She had made it for him, and he was… happy… to wear it. She had insisted that he needed to make things official, and although there was hesitance in his heart, he obeyed every word and order that she gave to him. 

He let her fiddle with him as if she were trying to ready a child for their first school photo the morning of. He was used to her doing that and fawning over him. He slowly nodded his head in response once it clicked for him that she was speaking to him. 

“…Thank you, my Savior.”

He had no choice, otherwise. 

There had been no hope of escaping from Magenta. Why had he thought that he would be able to do that? The universe wanted him here, and everything always brought him back to her. If this was to be his existence, then he had to accept it from now on.

He didn’t dare think of those thoughts now. 

Escape… fighting back… it all made him feel sick. 

The only reason that he found the will to keep his body standing was because there was somebody holding his hand. It was clammy, and it was cold, but it was the touch of her hand that gave him the strength not to die. He could not die and leave her behind. She was dedicated to him, and he was dedicated to her being. 

Paradise… 

Paradise existed. 

It was this place. 

Why else wouldn’t he be able to leave? 

Why else wouldn’t Lila be able to leave? 

Clearly, they were meant to be here. This was the only way that he and Lila could ever be together. It was their own option. It was this, or endless days of solitude until they died. For her, he would do anything, and for him, she would clearly do the same. 

Days… weeks… months… who knows how much time had passed. The elixir and the training tended to blur the memory of those who were too far deep into it. He was numb all the time, now. 

She was numb, too. 

Gone from her eyes was the light that had once glimmered and sparkled, the same eyes that had both fired him up and made him feel alive. There was a whisper of the old person inside of them but it would always be extinguished before she could crawl out of the darkness. 

If he suffered, she suffered. 

At the very least… they had each other in this. 

Rika smiled at him. “You’ve done so well lately. Both of you have finally found your true potential, and today is the day we share that glory with everyone. I can’t believe things have finally come together the way that they were always meant to. It took a while for this to come to fruition, but the fruit of your labors will benefit all the believers from here on out.” 

Her vision slid to the side where the other important person was. She reached out and brushed her fingers against Lila’s chin. “I’m just glad you could finally see our side of things, dear, after all that fighting and nonsense you spouted. Your loyalty is something to admire, isn’t it?”

“…Yes, of course,” Lila whispered. 

“Your unwavering faith will help inspire those who resist the darkness, the true path to salvation. Paradise awaits so many under this new rule, I can’t wait to see how many we can save from misery.” Rika spoke with glee. She couldn’t wait to see how things would play out, delightfully so. “Now, it’s time for you to grant them a witness of your presence.”

“Oh, he’s here!” 

And so, it began. 

Rika watched as Saeran took his seat on the poppet in front of everyone. The murmurs began to quiet down as he raised his hand to silence them, and Lila took her place at his side. Her hands politely poised in front of herself as she smiled at the crowd. Her eyes did not meet that smile, but it mattered not. 

All that mattered was that the world could see how much she believed in that boy, and she would not abandon him. 

Saeran began to speak, and those words captivated the crowd with ease. He had learned very well in the past. “Poor souls who seek salvation, the eternal paradise awaits you here at Magenta. The outside world is a pit of defilement. We must cleanse the corrupted world, and that is why our pasts are scourged with darkness. Darkness and light will always be with us. We will all soon become the light of salvation.” 

“Liar, you’re not the real Savior! We want the real Savior! Why isn’t anybody saying anything about this? Where did the Savior go?!”

Lila’s eyes trained on the sound of the voice.

“There is no Savior but the one that you see before you,” her voice was gentle and her tone was direct. All those who saw her knew that she lived and breathed those words. “He is kind, and he is gentle. He wishes to save all those who suffer in the cruel outside world. He saved me. I would be out there lost, hurting, suffering, miserable if he had not found me and shown me the light. He only wants to save all of us. Why would you ever insinuate that there has ever been anyone but my Savior?”

“Because that man is not my Savior!”

Rika pursed her lips from her spot to the side. She knew that there may be trouble from those who didn’t know any better. But, they could be taken care of with ease, no worries at all. “Security? Take away… that traitor,” she said, quietly. 

“Understood.” 

That unruly believer was removed from the room in the blink of an eye. It had to be done. 

Saeran showed that he felt bad for that poor believer, but he continued on with his word. As he should do, the calmness in the center of the storm was the sign and mark of a very strong leader. 

He nodded, “I do not fear change. I do not fear blame. We only seek to look ahead and build a paradise for all. I only wish to deliver the words of salvation to all. The authorities of politics, everyday society, culture, and media, they all seek us. That means they agree we’re right. The Mint Eye has never been more powerful, and we will be even more powerful tomorrow. We will bring salvation to every corner of the world.”

“For eternal paradise,” Lila said. 

“For eternal paradise,” Saeran echoed her words. 

The crowd erupted into a lovely chorus of cheers and cries of hopeful folks who could and would be saved. The rest of the world was next, and Rika could not wait to see it happen. 

[gerendumtelegnostic]

[Incoming Storm]

    Violet streaks of electricity bloomed across the sky in crisp strikes and rolling thunder, clouds sounding much less like fronts of air and water and more like the rumbles of splitting rock and concussive landslide. Rain was coming down in sheets, cold and heavy and fast. The dogs had known the storm was coming before the townsfolk had. They’d been anxious and listless all day, even before the dark and loamy clouds moved in and the air felt crisp and thin. Howl hadn’t been lucky enough to close up shop before the rain hit, though that didn’t bother them all that much. As they moved back out to the farmhouse, they passed by their neighboring humans. It was funny, or at least mildly interesting, how quickly Humans scattered during the rain when they were mostly water themselves. Rain didn’t erode humans, it eroded stones like Howl (who comparatively didn’t mind the wet all that much).

    Underneath the growling sky, the only other sound was the wet plaps of Howl’s shoes against the steadily flooding grass. The summer had been hot, even the day had been temperate and dry, so the ground was useless in absorbing the sudden storm. The only guidance back Home was the mix of muscle memory and the faint glowing of the porch light in the distance. Or, there should have been a faint glowing of a porch light. There was a hint of it, but even from this far out Howl could tell that there was something obstructing it, it wasn’t just burnt out or off. The hairs on the back of their neck stood on end and they moved a bit faster, dropping to all fours and taking new form in a momentary shift of white light that was all but drowned out by the heavy rain and the perfectly-timed flash of violet lightning.

Nimble feet rushed the mottled Gem through the long, wet, lapping grass towards their house, just out of sight and pawfalls hidden under the loud hiss of rain. Whatever the figure was, it was looming in front of the door and obscuring the light from inside. Once again, Howl bristled, this time close enough for a low growl to join the bassy grind of storm cloud against storm cloud. They’d nearly made it the entire way to their porch when--

      “--Howl!”

The familiar lilt of tone immediately melts the white Gem and after a stunned moment, they shift back to something more Gem-like. Another crack of lightning confirms their assumption, and another round of loud, wet footslaps rushes them up the stairs and flinging towards the Fusion. They collide, Garnet taking most of the brunt of the force and dispelling it in a spin and an embrace. She doesn’t care that Howl is rain-soaked. Neither does Howl.

    “Garnet!” They reply, just as enthusiastic (if not more so) than their impromptu guest. When the spin stops, Howl tightens their embrace and buries their rain-wet face into the top of Garnet’s chest. Garnet buries her lips and chin into the crown of Howl’s head. Neither of them speak again for a bit. They let the thundering of the storm and the closeness of their embrace speak for them. It’s time soon enough, though, to part, and Garnet begins to release just as Howl was starting to wane. She sets them down and re-adjusts her new, three-pointed shades. She’s smiling so wide it looked almost Comical. Howl is trying their best not to start crying.

“It’s been--”

“So long, I know. I wanted to come sooner. Ah’m sorry. So much’s happened, I don’t even know where to begin.” Garnet interrupts, but it doesn’t feel rude. It feels excited. It feels familiar.

“Well, coming inside out of the rain might be a good place to start.” There’s an awkward smile on Howl’s lips, crooked and small but genuine. They’re thankful that their wet hair is across their face. They’re not sure if there are tears or not as they move past Garnet politely and unlock their front door.

“I suppose that’s true. Very wise, Howl.” Garnet replies with a laugh on her voice. It’s warm, starkly so in contrast to the cool of the thunderstorm.

    Once inside, Howl was greeted by their several dogs. It had just been puppy season, late summer when the strays would have their litters and nobody would be around to claim them. It was just until they were old enough to be adopted out, Howl told themselves at the start. Now they weren’t so sure. Garnet ducked through the doorway behind them, gently turned the handle as she shut it, and then briefly crossed her wrists in front of herself. When she separated them, her Gems let off a soft glow which spread to the rest of her body, and in a flash the water that had been on her steamed and dried from the heat of her hard-light. Howl thought it was a neat trick they’d have to ask her about in the future, but now wasn’t the time.

“Please, get comfortable. You can stay for a bit, right?” They asks as they gently usher their several hounds towards their beds. As they moved through the room, they flipped on some of the lights though kept the ambiance dim and warm.

“Jus’ for a bit. Jus’ long enough.”

“...good. Is it alright if I make some tea?”

“Sure. Be careful, though.” Garnet warns as she moves into the living room and takes a seat on the edge of the sofa. Howl freezes in place.

“...why?”

“There’s still water in the kettle from las’ night. Take care not to tip it too much when you move it.”

    Howl smiles.

               “Alright. Thanks.”

   “So... she’s... NICE now?” Howl asks, only holding their cup of tea and not sipping it. Garnet, on the other hand, in hospitable solidarity takes a long sip of her own Earl Grey between words.

“Well... not yet, but she’s trying. They all are. It’s something brand new to them, but it’s happening. With Steven’s guidance, they’ll succeed. It’s over.” There’s a soft and serene, almost dreamy sound to the Fusion’s words that makes Howl wring their fingers along the handle of their mug. Something twists over Howl’s features and Garnet reaches a tea-warmed hand out to rest on their shoulder, ruby facets pressed flat to the still rain-damp fabric of their jacket. Howl raises their eyes from their reflection in the untouched tea to stare themselves down in Garnet’s shades instead. There’s a question they desperately want to ask but can’t. It’s trapped somewhere behind their gem.

“—We don’t have her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not out there somewhere. Ah’m sorry.”

It’s not the answer Howl wanted, but it is the one they were expecting. A held and unnecessary breath released itself and Howl sighs out a defeated huff of a laugh before they bring their sleeve up to press at their eyes. There weren’t full on tears yet, but Howl knew they were there and didn’t want them to fall. Not in front of Garnet.

“There are still Gems we haven’t recovered, it’s a big, wide world. I’m sure we’ll find her.”  Garnet’s words should have been reassuring but Howl can’t shake the feeling that the Fusion knows something they don’t, which... she absolutely did. Whether or not Garnet would tell a lie like that to protect them, they weren’t so sure about. The pad of their thumb rolled over the lip of their mug.

“Thank you.” Was all they could manage at the moment. Garnet understood.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it right now. What have you been up to?” Garnet moves as she speaks, setting her now emptied cup on the worn coffee table and shuffling her hip so it was up against the stormy Gem. Howl tries to be present. The contact helps, but not enough. A gloved hand raises to Garnet’s face and, with a pull of her fingers in the air above her visor, it vanishes in a sparkle of dissipated light. Three gentle, loving, and knowing eyes fall on Howlite and they appreciate the gesture. It brings a weakened smile to their lips.

“Oh, y’know... Working at the library. Taking care of them,” Howl says with a loose gesture to the several dogs curled up in the corner of the room. The Mother is awake but her four puppies aren’t. “—nothing much. Definitely not fighting a Diamond Warship on Homeworld.” There’s another nervous laugh that passes over their Gem. Garnet’s brows screw up a little.

“Howl... I wanted to ask you something.”

It was a statement that should have been benign but brought with it an uneasy tension that Howl couldn’t quite place. It felt wrong to hear that Garnet had a question, they think. What could she possibly have to ask that she didn’t already know the answer to?

“Uhh...sssure?” Howlite replies, suddenly all but too overly aware of how they were sitting and the heated weight of the mug in their hands.

“With the Diamonds repairing what they’d done, there are a number of displaced Gems. They don’t want to go back to Homeworld. Earth is their home, but there are too many to house in Beach City.

    We can provide the materials to build, help set it up, but—“

“Wait, wait, wait— what are you saying? You want... to bring them all here??” Howl’s sitting up straight now, their entire body turned towards Garnet. They grip their mug so tightly that it cracks the glaze on the porcelain. They don’t notice.    “I can’t just... Garnet, there are SO many of them!!!” The look on their face is best described as ‘pleading and panicked’, made even more evident by the hand that had shot its way up to twist up a lock of their choppy white hair.

Garnet just smiles, raising her hand back to her face and summoning the half-star of her visor. Her smile spreads into a full grin as she does.

“And here I thought you enjoyed taking in strays~”

Garnet wouldn’t have asked if she’d known it would be a no, right? Howl sits there, staring for a moment, the weight of indecision and the twisting rivers of fate consuming them. They hadn’t been around too many Gems since their Kindergarten, they hadn’t had to mentor anyone about humans and life on modern Earth EVER. Were they the best person for this? Garnet must believe in them if she’s suggesting it at all.     Their mind ran a mile a minute as rumbling thunder sung out outside.

“...you don’t have to say yes, you know. That’s why it’s a question.” Garnet leans down as she speaks, her head tips, and she offers another soft smile after a far-to-long silence from the Howlite.

“—yes.” They reply curtly. It was instantaneous after Garnet’s voice stopped, it nearly cuts her off.

   “Okay, Well then, you can take as long as you need to t—“

“No no no, YES. Yes I’ll... I’ll do it. I... whew boy.” Their words lose steam and the devolve into laughing, a firm palm pressed to their forehead at their hairline lifting their bangs from their face as they stare headlong into the distance.    Garnet lurches forwards and hugs them tight. One of her hands comes to cradle the back of Howl’s head and she lets out her own happy bubble of a chuckle. “Thank you! It won’t be forever. Steven, Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot will eventually cooperate to create a safe-haven for Gems on Earth closer to the Temple, Ah’m sure of it! It’ll just be until then!”

Howl melts into the embrace, nodding where they can and trying to understand the scope of what they’d just agreed to. The mother dog rests her head over one of her puppies and settles down quietly. The steady static of the rain fills the comfortable silence of the farmhouse. Howl thinks that this is probably one of the last nights they’ll have to themselves for a while.

   That thought isn’t nearly as jarring or horrifying as they thought it would be.

    “Yo, chuck it at me I’m open!” Amethyst shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth. She’s shifted into a huge, burly beast of a ‘wrestler’ to assist with construction despite having the exact same strength in whatever form she took. She claps her hands against her hairy chest and assumes a kind of grappling stance.

“If you say so, small stuff!” Bismuth calls back with a raspy joviality to her voice. With a loud ‘hyup’ from Bismuth, a several-foot long and at least two-feet thick support beam is thrown like a huge, wooden javelin across the field towards Amethyst. The purple Gem growls as she prepares herself and, at the last moment, the thick ropes of her shape shifted fingers catch the lip of the pillar. In a quickly spat ‘yuh-oh’, Amethyst is ripped from her feet from the momentum of the support beam and goes, dragging, alongside it for a foot or two before she catches her footing and hoists it up over her head. “GOT IT!”

Bismuth smirks and claps her hands together a few times to knock the splinters free. “Good job! Who knows! Maybe next time I’ll finally get to use at least HALF of my full strength!”     Amethyst shouts a perturbed ‘hey’ before the both of them start laughing and whatever tension that appeared to be there was gone in an instant.

    “Hmm.” Pearl hums as she holds her chin between her index finger and her thumb. She’s looming over one of the many drafting tables, examining a set of the blueprints her and Peridot had drafted for the ‘temporary’ housing. “I, still, really do think that the center most window of the top floor should be moved at least three inches higher.”

Peridot gives a dry ‘ha!’ and twists her wrist dismissively. “See, the PROBLEM with that is that we have Gems who AREN’T freakishly tall like you needing to live in these homes! If it goes three inches higher, ME-sized Gems won’t be able to, oh, I don’t know, casually open or close it without the use of some kind of climbing device, and that defeats the entire purpose!” As she speaks her little green finger points at various bits of the blueprint to illustrate her point. Just as Pearl is about to launch her rebuttal, Lapis lands with a wet ‘flap’ and crosses her arm.

“Built-in stairs.” Lapis offers while giving the par a half-lidded glance. Her finger comes to rest on the floorplan before the window. Both of the ‘engineers’ give a momentary ‘I...’ before they return to looking at the blueprints.

    Garnet had been working with Steven to direct some of the Healed Gems to the places they needed to be, giving them directions and purpose. It was amazing how many of them wanted to help. More than a dozen partially-mutated Gems helped tamp the Earth and mark out where all of the interim structures would be. It was... overwhelming, to say the least.     Howl sits on their porch, leaning forward on their knees and watching the Crystal Gems do what they did best. It was no wonder Wulfenite had wanted to join them...

They hadn’t talked to anyone but Garnet yet, although they had waved when the Fusion brought her immediate family over to explain what was happening, that Howl had volunteered to house the new Earth Gems, and that ‘this is Howl. They are one of my closest friends and they are incredibly kind’. It’d made them blush a steely grey at the time. Twisted up their tongue.    “Hey! Iiiiis it okay if I sit here for a minute?” The voice catches Howl off-guard. It was loud, albeit friendly, and shockingly masculine in contrast to the majority of the Crystal Gems they were used to hearing. Their eyes turn to land on him, Steven Universe, the hybrid son of Pink Diamond, and all they can do is give a stiff, slow nod. Steven chimes a ‘thanks!’ and takes a seat on the wood of the porch. The Summer Heat is back and he wipes the sweat of his hard-work from his brow.

“It’s Howlite, right?” He asks with a charming grin.

“...just Howl.” They reply. Their voice is soft, unsure. At least they had their bangs to be thankful for, a curtain of protection against the oncoming storm of social interaction that was probably going to drain every last bit of ‘Daily Energy’ that they had. Good thing they called into work today.

“Howl. Gotcha. I’m Steven,” The half-Gem originally offers out his hand that he’d just used to wipe his forehead with before he realized it, drew it back with an ‘oh!’, wiped it furiously on his jeans, and re-offered it. Howl chuckles softly, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “--you’ve got a beautiful house here! Do you ever grow anything in these fields?”

“...no, not usually. Sometimes the neighboring farmer pays me to use the fields as overflow for their wheat but... I’ve never intentionally grown anything.” They’re half-mumbling which is frustrating them. Maybe Garnet shouldn’t have told them that Steven’s Mother used to be a Diamond. They were usually so personable... or at the very least, they had a good customer service voice. Neither of those things were coming to them now. Steven didn’t seem to mind, at least.

“Oh! That’s smart.” He says with a nod. Steven rests the palms of his hands on the wood of the deck and leans back on them with his heels dug slightly into the dirt, stretching out his hot and sore legs. He gives an over-heated sigh.

“Y’know, it might be nice for them to see that the Earth can grow and change. If you want, Peridot and Lapis grow their own small farm at their Barn. I can have them show everyone how to tend to things like corn, and pumpkins, and sunflowers. It might be a nice thing for everyone to do together.” As he talks he’s looking out at the group of his friends, some old and some new, and he has a kind look of Love across his features. It makes Howl feel a little less tense. “--I mean! If you want to do something like that! Oh, geeze, look at me: making plans for someone else’s property. It’s already so great of you to have them all come live here, you don’t--”

“--It sounds nice.” Howl interrupts warmly. Steven just smiles with his brows twisted in apology. “Maybe... we could sell what we grow in town. Get people used to seeing them as something friendly for a change.”

Garnet had explained that the only Gem the nearby town was used to seeing was Howl, and that a rampaging Gem Beast had torn through these grounds back when she first met them, so the hesitation made sense to Steven. He gave a nod. “That sounds great! I’ll talk to Lapis and Peri as soon as they’re not busy.” Steven motions towards the three standing around the drafting table with a gesture of his head. Howl smiles softly.

“...thanks.”

    At some point the Sun started to go down and construction was halted for the evening. By that time, Howl had retreated into their house to tend to the dogs that were going a little stir-crazy and shaken up by the sounds of hammering and nailguns. Garnet had joined them, and eventually so had Steven (who was a much needed breath of Excitement for the house-trapped hounds). Now that evening was falling, Amethyst and Pearl had also made their appearances. It was... strange to have their house so full. They didn’t have enough mugs for everyone to have their own tea. Garnet and Amethyst offered to go without to help with this. Pearl offered to bring more mugs. It was... nice.

“--and then, right as we thought we were done for--- WA-BAM! Smokeyquartz~” Amethyst recounts for the group. As she says ‘bam’ her fist hits into her other palm, breaking into a wiggling ‘sparkle’ of her fingers at the reveal of the Fusion’s name. It’s Steven’s turn to join into the story now, and he just as enthusiastically stands up to tell his part of how Smokey Quartz defeated Jasper, and eventually how Sardonyx had held a kind of ‘talk show’ to introduce herself to Smokey.     Howl does their best to listen, even laughing and taking their turn to tell stories they hadn’t told in thousands of years. It was... nice. It was, as they thought it would be, exhausting, but in a good way. The same kind of exhausting as tending to the puppies was, or helping townsfolk when they needed a hand with something no Human should be doing alone. It was a sleepy exhausting, not an overwhelmingly drained one.

Boastful and loud stories turned into subdued talking and more serious subjects, though nothing that crossed the line into upsetting Howlite (thank the stars). It’s around midnight when Pearl suggest that the Gems head home. Amethyst initially whines about the decision, but when she sees the bags under the half-human’s eyes and the look of tired in Howl’s, even she agrees.     Goodbyes were said, thanks were exchanged, and the Crystal Gems assured Howl that they’d be back to help with more construction tomorrow and that they’d keep an eye on things while they were away at work. Everyone filed out except for Garnet, who waited just inside the doorway for everyone to step out so she could have a word alone with her friend.

“...Thank you.” Garnet says in a low, honeyed tone. There’s a slight smile to her lips, one that might go unnoticed by anyone but Howl.

Howl brings up one of their hands to worry at the back of their neck, a soft laugh flowing over their Gem. “Don’t worry about it. They’re... nice. I’m glad I got to meet them finally. They’re everything you said they’d be, maybe more.”

Garnet hums a laugh. “You’re welcome at the Beach House whenever you want. M’ sure the Gems wouldn’t mind. Door’s always open to family, after all.” The way she says it almost makes the words missable, but that was the point. She was already walking towards the door by the time Howl’s mind had wrapped around them entirely, leaving the stormy Gem standing somewhat wide-eyed and stunned.     One of the Fusion’s hands meets the doorknob as she steps through the frame and out onto the deck.

“Goodnight Howl. Love you!” She says with a grin before shutting the door behind her softly as not to wake the puppies.

Howl’s hand twists the fabric of their shirt over their chest.

Family.

              ...They’d never had one of those before.

[svu-stories]

.89 | The Downward Spiral

Characters: Barba/Reader Word Count: 2,712 Prompt: Barba finds his SO falling ‘off the wagon’ Requested by: @rauliskafan​ (like...6 months ago. I’m so sorry!) Warnings: Eating Disorders (Sp. Bulimia - somewhat detailed/graphic), Depression/Anxiety

You stood over the sink in the kitchen and dropped the spoon in your hand to the bottom of the basin. It clanked against the metal, jarring you slightly. Eyes took in the illuminated clock on the microwave - 1:49 AM - and the numbers were emblazoned in the back of your mind. You knew that this was it. Forever would the numbers 1:49 mean the moment you decided to give up.

Mint chocolate chip ice cream still lingered on your taste buds. It marred the memories of the hot cocoa you’d consumed just prior, along with the red velvet cupcake Rafael had brought home to you and the apple slices you had started the small binge with. There were a few containers containers of leftovers finished off, too. You reveled in the lingering scent of the pork adobo he had made for you only hours ago. Uncontrollable emotions had started to take over again. A medication change prompted by your psychiatrist’s fear of recent complacency seemed to kick off the downward spiral. You knew he had noticed. Rafael Barba wasn’t always the perfect husband, but he still held you when you cried and bought cupcakes when he didn’t have the words to provide comfort.

And in his defense, you had been far less than the perfect spouse, too.

You rinsed the dishes and dropped them into the dishwasher before crumpling the empty pint of ice cream beneath your fingers. Running your thumb over the ridge, you tossed it in the trash, staring for a few moments before slamming the cabinet door shut and letting your feet carry you mindlessly to the guest bathroom.

The master wasn’t an option. You couldn’t let Rafael down, fearing that your failure would make him feel like all of his effort to love you through your reopened wounds had gone to waste. It would never be his fault that you weren’t good enough. All you needed now was to purge all of the emotions that left you exhausted. You needed to take back control. Gripping the doorknob, you pushed the door open easily and toed inside. Just down the hall, through a cracked door, you could hear the silence of a slumber gripped husband who worked too many hours and needed a healthy counterpart. You could feel your heart sink. What you were about to do was a disappointment to you all.

It had been so long.

You had been so healthy.

You followed all of the rules, took every step, opened your heart to him, let yourself heal.

You shook your head as your brain reminded you of the failures. Each time you felt bitter that another court date got his attention rather than you. The job you quit purely because you couldn’t find a way to deal with an overbearing supervisor. The burnt dinners that sat on the table when you were too distracted. The dust that had settled on the furniture because you lost the energy to tidy up. Theu job interviews that had no call backs, or worse - the resumes sent with no response. He deserved so much better.

Shutting the door behind you, you swallowed hard. The tiny surroundings of the half bath were almost too small. You could feel the walls closing in as sobs caught in your throat, unable to make the final journey to be dispelled. You didn’t deserve to cry. This was your choice, your story, and you had to abide in the pain that existed. If you were a little stronger, a little smarter, a little less brash, maybe you would be worthy. Worthy of Rafael and of the life you lived.

It was a delicate dance, but you were too clumsy to be carried away on the twirls of a ballerina’s graceful choreography.

You reached for the faucet, turning it on as high as you could get the water pressure to go in your Manhattan apartment. You paused. It was Rafael’s apartment, really. He took you in when you wed, as was custom, but you knew you could never afford it without him. Especially now, unemployed with few prospects of work.

He insisted it was the right thing to do when you left your previous position. You had worked your way up the ladder, sitting in a management position with nine-to-five hours, plenty of vacation, and a hefty Christmas bonus each year. Still, your supervisor could only point out your flaws, and there were plenty. Your tears each night had started to break him. You took sick days regularly and your job performance suffered as you convinced yourself you were unable to be the employee they needed. Your misery left you helpless.

Still, you hadn’t disappeared into the depths of this dungeon through all of that.

You knelt, scratchy blue carpet from the small rug in the powder room pressing into your knees. You almost regretted your tendency to sleep only in one of Rafael’s v-necks. It had always been your preference since given the option while you were still dating. You clutched the soft fabric and lifted it around your nose, swallowing hard as you inhaled his scent. The sob you’d held back so long ago escaped as you gripped the rim of porcelain before you.

It happened faster than you could really process, but without a second thought you purged the recent intake of junk food from your system. Your body heaved as you gripped the sides of the toilet bowl, eyes closing as salty tears ran down your cheeks. Everything hurt in that moment. It had been so long since the familiar burn had overtaken your senses, but with your previous meal came out all of the fears of being imperfect. The pressure of wondering if you could ever make it in the world dissipated, even if only for a second.

A second was all it took, though, for the thing that you believed you controlled to control you all over again.

This time, it was the opening of the bathroom door. Its creaking hinges made you jump as you realized you had been caught. Rafael’s gasp was barely audible over the running water as he crouched beside you, brushing strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. You hadn’t even realized how damp it was. You felt lips on the back of your neck and heard a gentle sigh. You heaved once more, swallowing hard before leaning back on your heels once you were certain all contents of your stomach had been expelled. A shaky hand reached up, fingers struggling to push down the lever on the back of toilet, flushing away the contents that were proving the guilt of falling off of the proverbial wagon.

“Mi amor,” he said quietly. His voice was breathy as he ran a hand over your back. The rise and fall of your shoulders was exaggerated as you caught your breath, staring at wall rather than letting your gaze meet his. It was easier for both of you if he couldn’t see the shame clouding your vision. “Did you eat something bad? Are you ill?”

His voice sounded far away, but your skin tingled beneath his touches. You slowly closed your eyes and fell into his chest, letting a warm embrace envelop you as you started to cry. He knew every minute detail of your past. It was part of giving him your heart, and you didn’t regret it ever. At least, not until now. Now he was worried. He thought it was innocent. Your collapse in the bathroom, the faucet running, the burning feeling in your throat, even the relief you felt from purging every moment of the last several years that you had held inside left you wanting to fall asleep, exhausted from hiding from him. But he was right there. You couldn’t ignore his warm hands, the gentle kisses to the top of your head, or his worried gaze for much longer.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, holding you closer. You could almost feel the depths of his thoughts. Perhaps he was wondering if the pure act of vomiting had triggered you. Maybe he already knew you had relapsed into a world of negative thoughts and desires to be perfect. “You’re safe with me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sat together for several minutes. Your tears finally subsided into the occasional sniffle and you hoisted your body away from his, standing up to fill a dixie cup with water. You never used to need to rinse your mouth out, but the foul tastes lingered and you had to forget. You swished cold liquid over your tongue and around your cheeks, glancing in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes stared back at you with a hauntingly empty expression. You were empty again.

Your gut was void of food and your mind void of the self-hatred.

For now.

You turned off the water after spitting and tossed the empty cup in the trash. Leaning against the counter, you glanced at Rafael, who had positioned himself carefully on the now closed lid of the toilet.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, voice raspy as you ran a hand through your hair and tried to avoid talking about what just happened. Maybe he still thought you just had a stomach bug. “Maybe I should stay on the couch so I don’t infect you, though.”

Rafael’s green eyes were all-knowing, and you wanted to shrink under his gaze. Sitting down he was shorter than you, and you tilted your chin down to see him better. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a deep sigh, “Are you ill?”

You pursed your lips, shrugging.

“That’s not an answer,” he continued. His voice held a quiet confidence.

“Can we please talk about it in the morn-“

“You’re not sick,” he breathed, teeth clenched. “Please tell me the truth.”

You shook your head. You weren’t sick with a bug or virus at least, and no food poisoning had overtaken your symptom causing cramps and vomiting that couldn’t be controlled. Instead, you were sick with anxiety and depression, negative thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. It was a constant nagging in the back of your mind; a tiny, small voice repeated the failures of your life over and over.

It convinced you that you weren’t worth living.

You could see his face fall. You tried to evaluate his emotions. For a fleeting second you thought you recognized disgust, then disappointment, and finally fear. You had made your husband - the only person in the world who loved you unconditionally - fear you. He had never known you ill. He had never seen the skin and bones version of yourself who was hollow from the inside out. Rafael Barba had watched you fall haphazardly into panic attacks and anger-filled cleaning binges. He had heard you berate yourself over and over. But he had never seen this.

He had never watched the skin be pulled away to reveal the brokenness that was held together with a few safety pins, some tape, and glue. The broken hearted girl who had first started trying to control food as the only chance she had to keep her life in check had never been his spouse.

Until now.

“You did this to yourself?” He asked, his voice quiet as a mouse.

You nodded slowly, refusing to make eye contact as your toes dug into the rug beneath you. This time, you were thankful that you didn’t wear socks. The scratchy fabric pieces grounded you into the moment.

You caught him raise his hand out of your peripheral vision and instantly took half a step back. Realizing he was just running fingers through his perfect hair, you let out the breath you hadn’t meant to hold. “You did this yourself,” he repeated gently. “Which means we have to talk about it. Because God-forbid I let you walk down this road and risk losing you.”

Your mind wandered, unable to handle the sudden onslaught of emotion you felt. You wanted to go finish off the lasagna Carisi had brought over the other night for the entire squad and start the process all over again. Then you wouldn't feel once more. You needed to be able to not feel.

Rafael finally looked up, shaking his head, “Look at me.”

You swallowed hard, eyes still trained on the wall behind him. You were slowly counting the number of loose threads you noticed in the towel behind his head. You frowned, wrinkling your nose, lost in thoughts of replacing the old, ratty towels with new ones that better matched the color scheme.

"Did you hear me?" He asked, voice a little louder. "Look at me."

You snapped to attention, slowly moving your gaze to his. The stare of his green eyes caused you to step back again. You hated hurting him, and all you could see was pain.

"What can I do?" he finally asked.

Despite his quiet tone, you were convinced he was still angry.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. The response was automatic. Being caught in your teenage years, still under the watchful eye of your parents, you had always apologized first in hopes that they wouldn't send you away. You knew the drill. It was a rehabilitation and treatment center with minimal freedoms and a bunch of other kids as sick, if not sicker, than you were. You had to beg and plead with them to not be force fed food and watched for hours after so you couldn't purge. Your entire life was taken away except for the voices that reminded you how much you were hated.

Having to be babysat because they couldn't trust you just added fuel to the fire of your family and friends.

And now your husband.

Rafael stood slowly, his posture non-threatening and easy. He held out his arms, beckoning you into a hug. You doubted it at first, looking away again. This time you stared at your feet, willing them to carry you to safety, but they felt heavier than cinder blocks as they cemented themselves into the rug. Finally looking up, you nodded. The tears were starting to fall again, and this time you fell into Rafael's embrace willingly.

You clung to him as though you could be ripped away at any moment, a fragment of your normally confident self. The mask had faded and finally you admitted to your failure. He whispered sweet nothings as he tried to comfort you, fingers tangled in your hair, butterfly kisses crossing your forehead and temple. You felt his whole body grow broader around you, seemingly protecting you from anything outside of embrace.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I couldn't do it anymore."

"Hey, hey," he answered, his voice calm but strong. You could tell he wanted to carry you through it without any other words, but he spoke anyway. "We'll figure this out, mi amor. We'll go to therapy or see a nutritionist, whatever you need. You call the shots, here. But I'm not letting you dwindle away into that world again, you hear me? You're my love, my life, and I need you, all right?"

"You deserve better," you started, hiccuping through your sentence as your strength slowly gave way into leaning the majority of your body weight against him.

Rafael shook your head, pulling you back just enough to place a warm, inviting kiss on your lips, "Don't you ever say that again. I don't deserve you, and I'll fight every day to make you believe it."

You didn't believe him fully. Not yet, at least, but you nodded to at least affirm that you'd heard it.

"I'm scared to death," he admitted quietly.

You smiled sadly, knowing he was telling the truth, "Me, too, Rafa."

Rafael sighed, pressing his forehead into yours as he held you up. He was your rock and strength. You knew his world was filled with skeletons and nightmares, too, and somehow you always made it through together. You nodded against him, letting your noses brush against one another, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"I love you," he whispered. "We'll figure it out."

You found his hand, lacing your fingers together and squeezing it. This time, you believed he was right.

[constructioninnovation]

Why Is Everyone Talking About Tile Adhesive?

Tile glue is a premixed mixture of precisely selected common concrete, well-reviewed fine sand, and additional ingredients that improve the adhesive's basic qualities for placing tiles and increasing its adaptability. Instead of laying tiles on existing tiles, completed concrete, wooden substrates, or other unusual substrates, better tile adhesives can be employed. Nonetheless, each type of tile cement is designed for a certain type of surface application to provide clients with the best results possible, taking into account the use regions and environment. Tile Adhesive can be used to adhere a variety of tiles and stones to a variety of surfaces. These Tile Fixing Adhesives are ready-to-use, self-resetting, and have incredible adhesion properties. Their high holding strength prevents tile shrinkage, cracks, and slippage.

Holding Problems: Tile adhesive vs sand-cement:

As the name implies, a sand-concrete blend is an old method for installing tile and stone. It consists of regular concrete mixed with river sand to create a glue that can be used to install all types of tile and stone in any weather condition.

v Bonding with sand – Cement:

After the tile installations are completed, concrete dries and therapists faster, resulting in void formation beneath the tiles. As a result, there is an unfavorable grip between the tiles and the concrete. This also causes problems by allowing delicate regions to develop breakdowns over time.

In the accompanying circumstances, there may be challenges withholding:

·         Low-perceptive tiles, such as porcelain glass mosaic, are placed on clean Substrates.

·         Tiling an already-tiled floor.

·         Using tiles on surfaces that must move or bend, such as wooden flooring, is a good idea. Installing tiles over wet areas such as a pool or a toilet.

·         Tiling in the face of extreme weather.

·         Tiling in unusual deck surfaces, heavy industry, high-substance inclined surfaces, and extremely hot surfaces, among other things.

 v Bonding with Tile Adhesive:

Tile glue is a premixed mixture of really well-chosen standard concrete, very well-reviewed fine sand, and additional substances such as plastic to improve its basic capabilities for installing tiles and enhancing its adaptability. Elite execution tile glue can be used to adhere tile to existing tile, cleaned concrete, and other surfaces.

·         Quick and to the point.

·         If you want to use it, just mix it up with some water.

·         It is useable with a wide range of tile and stones such as mosaic, glass, completed stone, wooden surface, Drywall, or metal surface. It may be used on existing tiles and can be used on any substrate.

·         Slimmer layer.

·         Tile cement with low shrinkage qualities has better-grounded adhesion.

·         Warm and current innovations make it very adjustable.

·         The client has an advantage because the surface is ready to use in less than 24 hours.

·         It is not necessary to saturate the tiles.

How to Apply Tile Cement: Step-by-Step Instructions:

Make sure your surfaces are ready for tiling before you start blending. Our master video divider preparation guide will show you how to do it.

The manufacturer's instructions on the tile cement packaging will specify which kind of tile it should be used with, as well as how much water you should use while blending.

If you've decided to use prepared blended cement, skip stages 1 through 4 if it's not too much work.

·         To avoid unmixed powder, pour the required amount of water into your pail first.

·         Make sure you're dressed in appropriate protective gear, such as gloves, eyewear, and a face mask. The concrete-based powder can aggravate the problem.

·         Stir the cement, making sure to get into the can's sides and bottom. This step requires the use of a blending paddle (which can be obtained in most home improvement stores).

·         Continue mixing until the mixture is smooth and free of powder or knots. You're currently being instructed to apply adhesive to your dividers.

·         Because the adhesive might set quickly while spreading over the barrier, start with a small area. You won't waste as much of your blend this way.

·         Make channels with an indented scoop to provide a more stable surface.

·         Press the tile into the cement and turn it slightly. This will secure it to the divider and reduce the amount of air that can accumulate between the tile and the divider surface.

·         Continue with the next tile, using spacers to separate the tiles as you go.

·         After you've tiled your divider and allowed the cement to set (really, check the manufacturer's specifications for drying times), it's time to grout. With this handy tool, you can figure out how to grout and how much grout you'll need.

 v Viability:

All cement comes with ready-to-use packaging; all you have to do is add water or other additives to the package. The tiles glue has all of the rules and inclusion diagrams. Tile glues are applied with a scored scoop, which guarantees that the substance is used sparingly and evenly throughout. Broken tiles on the corner, water leakage, and staining will all be reduced by the cement.

v Prudent: 

Tile Adhesive comes with an inclusion outline that will help you figure out how much material you'll need for different areas. The use of an indented scoop and a thinner layer reduces the amount of material used. The tile cement has a longer holding period and strength, as well as fewer chances of harming tile and stone, which saves a lot of money in the long run.

Conclusion:

There are numerous tile cement varieties available today, each of which differs depending on the use. There will be a different formula, varied blend proportions, and different kinds of fixes for each of these. Tile glues are necessary for securing your tiles to the surface. In any event, while looking for deck supplies, keeping an eye out for the perfect tiles for your floor can help you accomplish the job quickly. In the recent past, tile cement has essentially functioned.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me - Chapter 24

WARNING: MENTIONS OF DRUG ADDICTION, ALCOHOLISM, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, PTSD

TAGGING: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

  It had been a rough night.

Despite both physically and mental exhaustion, persistent and throbbing pain in both the knee and the shoulder had made it nearly impossible to get comfortable; meds weren’t successful in even taking the edge of, nor was a steaming hot shower or ice packs.  And when he had managed to drift off, he was plagued by nightmares. Vivid recollections of both childhood trauma, the death of his son, and the worry surrounding Millie’s impending sixth birthday. It had all blended together. One moment he was a little boy cowering in his bedroom closet as he listened to his father berate and physically beat on his mother. The next he was back on the beach with Austin who was no longer a little boy but a young man with his father’s eyes and a mop of blond hair; holding soon to be six-year-old Millie’s hand while they waded through the surf. And while Austin hadn’t said a word, Tyler had been begging him to leave Millie behind. Arguing that it wasn’t her time yet; still so many years ahead of her, so many things she was going to accomplish, milestones that she was going to reach and surpass.  

But Austin wouldn’t listen; refusing to be swayed by the tears and the pleading and the bargaining. Tyler willingly offering his life in exchange for his daughter’s. He’d lived a long enough life; making amends for most of his mistakes and he had nothing valuable or worthwhile left to give to the world. He had learned how to love again, and he had FELT love, and that was enough.   He was the one that Austin wanted, after all. The one that abandoned him when Austin had needed him the most. It should be him paying for the error of his own ways, not a little girl that was innocent and pure and still had so much living left to do. None of it had mattered. Austin had still taken her. Bringing Tyler to his knees; a broken, despondent, and sobbing mess.

He hadn’t been aware that he’d been talking and thrashing in his sleep. Not until his wife had violently shaken him awake and his eyes had snapped open and was greeted by the fear and the concern in hers. He’d been drenched in sweat; tears streaming down his face, heart racing, chest heaving as he attempted to draw breath into tight, aching lungs. It wasn’t the first time in the last seven years that he’d had a nightmare; for a straight twenty-four months following Dhaka he’d have at least two or three every night. Even when he’d been in the hospital and she’d climb into bed beside him, holding his head to her chest and clearing his tears away with gentle fingers and stroking his hair until he fell back asleep.  It was then that he’d discovered it was okay to let his guard down; he could experience moments of weakness and vulnerability with her and never face judgment or condemnation for it.  Eventually the nightmares had just stopped. One morning he’d woken up after managing a straight six hours of sleep and he’d felt like a new person.  

Within a month, other things had started to surface. Crippling depression, intense anxiety and terrifying panic attacks, thoughts of suicide. Not just wanting to end his life, but actually planning on how he would do it. The diagnosis of PTSD hadn’t come as a total surprise; you don’t live a life like his and commit the fuck ups you do without paying the price. But it had left him feeling weak and pathetic; embarrassed that he’d been reduced to nothing more than a shell of the man he used to be.  

Yet Esme had stuck by him through it all. Enduring almost seven years that must have...at the darkest and lowest of moments...felt like seven lifetimes. And she’d stayed by his side last night as well; fetching anxiety meds and  cool, damp cloth that she’d used to wipe down his face, forehead, and the back of his neck. Never saying a word the entire time she tended to him; the little smiles she’d give him, the concern and the love in her eyes, and her soft, soothing hands doing all the communicating.  Not once did they speak to one another, and when he had finally calmed down and his breathing had returned to normal, he’d laid on his back with tears still burning his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. And she’d quietly nestled in beside him. Her forehead resting on his shoulder and her fingers combing through his hair. And he’d managed to drift off again; lulled to sleep by the sensation of fingertips lightly gliding across his forehead and the feel of her warm, steady breath against his skin.  

It’s daybreak now; brilliant sunshine peeking over the horizon. The winds had become stronger through the night and he can hear the rustling of the trees and the waves as they crash onto the shore. The patio doors had been left open overnight and now the strong, cool breeze flutters the curtains and fills the room with the distinct smell of salt. For several minutes he doesn’t move. A forearm over his eyes as he takes in the noises from outside and his wife’s soft, rhythmic breathing as she sleeps beside him. She’d rolled away sometime during the night or early morning hours, resting on her stomach with the comforter pulled up to her chin and her face turned towards him; hair covering her face.  

He rolls onto his side; fingertips gently pushing silky dark tresses away from her forehead and out of her eyes; palm resting against the side of her face as he presses a kiss to her brow. A sigh escapes her lips, followed by an incoherent mumble. And while her eyes never open, her hand reaches out for him, finding his chest and then sliding up to the back of his neck. Tyler studies her. The way the ends of those long, dark lashes just brush the tops of her cheeks, the freckles that dust the bridge of her nose, the slight smile that curves her lips, that thin and barely noticeable scar that runs from the left temple and stops in the middle of her eyebrow. She’s at peace. It had been a long and exhausting night and her mind and body are spent from yet again taking on the role of caregiver, tending to not only him, but their three-week-old as well.

It’s been her way of life ever since they got married. Helping him fight his demons while never having the time or the energy to battle her own. Consistently putting her own issues on the back burner while concentrating on his. Yet she does it. Willingly. Without hesitation. In the same way she’d stayed behind on the Sultana Kamal Bridge despite knowing that no one was coming to help. Sacrificing herself and never asking for anything in return.

He leaves her to sleep; grimacing the moment he swings his legs over the edge of the mattress and his feet hit the floor. It’s the first time in six months he’d been this desperate for something stronger to take the edge off; not opposed to saying to hell with sobriety and cracking open a bottle of whisky or scotch in an attempt to numb the pain. It’s been two and a half years since he’s experienced the level of relief that Oxy used to bring him; that almost euphoric state caused by half a dozen. There were times –if he drank enough with them- that he’d fall into a deep sleep. Managing eight to ten hours and then waking up completely disoriented; unaware of the time of the day or even where the hell he was. And then the pain would quickly return, and he’d turn back to the meds and the booze, needing the aide of both to simply function.

His hands tremble and sweat gathers on his brow and the nape of his neck, mouth dry as his heart hammers wildly in his chest. It’s been a while since he’s been this desperate; where he can taste the booze on his lips and his tongue, and he contemplates how to get his hands on those old vices. The demon is powerful this morning; relentless and brutal. And he actually considers getting dressed and heading into town or even one of the bigger cities to find what his mind and his body hungrily crave.  e stands at the bathroom sink with the cold water running; hands tightly gripping the edge of the porcelain as he looks at himself in the mirror. Disgusted by who...and what...he sees staring back at him. His eyes are dark and angry. Haunted. Jaw tightly and painfully clenched. Nostrils flaring.  And he inhales deeply and exhales slowly and shakily; struggling to contain the overwhelming and powerful need for relief and escape that surges through him.  

Placing his palms flat against the sink, he closes his eyes and tucks his chin into his chest; struggling to regain his control. Attempting to talk himself down off the ledge. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and how much he stands to lose if he falls back into his old habits and way of life. They deserve better than that. His family.  They deserve a husband and a father that isn’t an alcoholic or a drug addict.  He’s worried. Scared. That he can’t handle this alone; that he’s spiralling out of control and completely helpless when it comes to stopping it.

He sticks his hands under the running tap; the frigid temperature causing a sharp and startled intake of breath and effectively snapping him out of crisis. The demon that had been sitting his shoulder and whispering in his ear finally retreats. At least for now. And he splashes water on his face and cups it in his palms, drinking from it before running the remnants through his hair.

Refusing to look back in the mirror before he leaves the room.

******

Tyler heads downstairs and makes himself a coffee –rich, black, extremely strong- and carries it out onto the back patio, passing the empty couch along the way. Kyle never last night: he’d left as soon as he’d brought the twins back and they haven’t heard from him since. But his truck is still parked in the driveway and all his luggage still takes up way too much space. He’s at the neighbor's; no doubt about it. And while one part of Tyler is glad he’s breaking free of Nik’s clutches and the dumpster fire that his life would have become once he married her, another part of him wants to put a foot up his brother in law’s ass. Nik’s going to lose her shit and she’s going wind up back in Australia and on his doorstep and that’s the goddamn thing Tyler needs. She’s already caused six and a half years of heartache and drama. And just when he’d thought was free and clear of it...of her...she somehow found a way to weasel her way back into his life.

He takes a seat on the bottom step of the patio stairs; elbows on his knees and coffee mug clasped tightly in his hands. Inhaling deeply and releasing the breath slowly; allowing the cool air to fill his still aching and trembling lungs. It’s refreshing. Relaxing. And he can feel the last of the tension slowly leaving his body; the sand beneath his feet grounding him, the sound of the ocean and the smell of salt water all working together to bring about the beginnings of peace. And from behind he can hear the soft clink of metal upon metal; the sway of the tags on Mac’s collar as he slips through the open sliding doors and pads towards him. Insistently nudging Tyler’s arm: a request to lift it and let him snuggle in tight beside him.  He obliges, ruffling fur at the back of Mac’s neck and the top of his head before resting a hand on the dog’s back.  

It’s as if Mac can sense who needs him the most; always finding the kid that doesn’t feel well or is coming down with some sort of illness, going to the closed nursery door and alerting them before Addie even begins to cry, even curling up beside Esme when the postpartum depression hits especially hard and makes it impossible for her to even get out of bed. Even two hours before the start of Addie’s early and difficult start into the world, he had known that something was going on. Refusing to leave Esme’s side, constantly nudging her baby bump with his snout or placing his paw on it; so insistent that she’d snapped at him to stop being annoying and to just leave her alone and Tyler had to lock him outside. Which only resulted in high pitched whining and clawing and chewing the screen door to shreds in a desperate attempt to get back into the house.  

His coffee is gone and the sun has filled the sky when Esme joins him; setting a second steaming much down beside him –along with a tea for herself- before placing her hands on his shoulders and dropping a kiss on the top of his head.  While he struggles with outward displays of intimacy and emotions, she seems to excel at them. Those small yet comforting touches when he’s not expecting them, the thoughtful little things that she does and he often takes for granted, even those winks and smiles she’ll sneak his way every once in a while. She craves what Mark had been incapable of giving her; affection and acknowledgment, intimacy that exists in its purest and sincerest of forms outside of sex.  And Tyler tries to reciprocate; to use more than words to let her know just how much he does love and appreciate her. But it’s been difficult, even after all this time.  He knows what he feels and how profoundly he feels it, but getting it out is often an immense struggle.

Her chin rests on the top of his head and her hands linger on his shoulders. Fingers lightly massaging the tense muscles before her palms slide down onto his chest and back up again; lips pressing against his cheek before she sits down beside him.

“Good morning,” she greets and kisses his shoulder, one hand coming to rest on the small of his back as the other picks up her mug of tea.

He leans into her, pressing a shoulder into hers and placing his lips to her temple. “Good morning, baby.”

“Is it okay?” she asks. “That I sit with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking,” she says, and skims her fingertips along his spine. Starting at his tailbone and travelling to the nape of his neck before sliding back again, hand resting just above the waistband of his shorts.

He sips his coffee; its hot and strong and it brings a smile to his face. “Kids still asleep?”

“Every single one. Why does Declan sleep on the floor, though? Explain that one to me.”

“He’s a ginger. Ginger’s do weird shit.”

“Don’t talk about your red headed stepchild like that,” she playfully retorts, harking back to a conversation months ago about Declan’s red hair being the result a ‘fling’ with the cable repair man.

Tyler smirks. “You know what...”

“What? What are you going to do? Nothing. Because you love me too much.”

“Says who?”

“Don’t deny it. You can't hide it from me. I know these things. I figure if you’ve stuck around this long, it must be love.”

“Well it’s definitely not your cooking, so....”

“You smart ass,” she grins, and her hand moves from his back to his side, fingers softly tracing the edge of the tattoo that decorates his rib cage.  

For several minutes neither of them speak; it’s a quiet and peaceful Sunday morning. A far cry from the night before and things that had haunted him and kept him awake.  The nightmare is still fresh in his mind, the images and the sounds on constant replay in his head.  And while his physical pain remains the same, the cravings for Oxy and booze had dwindled. Her mere presence is comforting; the touch of her hand upon his skin, the smell that lingers in her hair, that gentle weight of her knee pressed against his. It’s these moments that he finds himself enjoying the most. Sex...love making...fucking...it’s all amazing. Each and every time. And they have been since their first time together. But it’s times like this when their connection seems stronger.  Along with their comfort levels with one another and the trust they have in each other. Those are the true driving force behind not only their marriage, but the remarkable friendship they share.

***

“Do you want to talk about it?” Esme asks, her cup presses to her lips, eyes fixed on the ocean in the near distance.

“Not really,” Tyler replies.

“Okay,” she says, and presses a kiss to his shoulder; knuckles grazing along his ribs. “You don’t have to. But you can. When you’re ready to.”

“I know,” he smiles, and pecks her lips. “Thank you.”

She gives a smile of her own in return, and he can’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. Addie looks so much like her; those big, dark eyes and those freckles across the bridge of the nose, even the same ears and lips. So beautiful and so perfect in every possibly way. At least in his eyes.

“Are you still going today?” she inquires, and her hand settles at his waist. “To see your dad?”

He nods.

“Do you want me to come with you? I can track down Kyle and ask him to watch the kids. I know he won’t mind. Maybe it will be better for Millie if we’re both there with her. You know, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

“Just in case things go a little south. That way you’re not trying to deal with your own stuff AND her. She can be a handful and if something happens and you find yourself in crisis...”

“What do you think is going to happen? I’m only going to see my old man.”

“Anxiety? Panic attack? Those are difficult and scary things to see you go through as an adult. Never mind how terrifying it would be for her. She’s five and if you’re alone with her...”

“Ovi said he’d come with me.”

“I think I should be going with you. As your wife. And I want to be there with you. FOR you. Let me do this, okay? Let me be there for you.”

“You already are there for me. You always are. Look at last night.   Look at the nearly seven years.”

“I’m there because I love you, you ferociously stubborn but beautiful man. It’s what we do when we love someone. Look at all the times you’ve done it for me. All those Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners at my mom’s you suffered through; never shying away from sticking up for me when she or my brothers started their shit.  You always had my back. No matter what.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my wife. The mother of my kids. I love you.”

“Exactly. And I love you. So....” she gives his side a slight pinch. “...you get a hold of Ovi and tell him thanks, but no thanks. That your wife is going with you. Maybe he’ll watch the kids if you ask nicely enough. We’re not exactly speaking right now.”

“Well, may it’s time you do. Speak to him.”

“I’m not ready to deal with him. I don’t want to keep hearing his bullshit reasons for doing what he’s doing. And I’m tired of trying to get through to him. He doesn’t get it. Why I’m so worried about you getting dragged back into all of this.”

“He’s young,” Tyler reasons with a shrug. “Stupid. He’s only thinking of himself. And he doesn’t have much to lose.”

“But you have a lot to lose. So do I . So do your kids. And he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand the fall out if things go wrong and you don’t come back. And I need you to come back. WE need you to come back.”

“Hey...stop...”  he gently orders, and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into him, lips pressed to her temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Everything could go right for a change.”

She snorts.

“I could break him before he even gets through training. It could be all too much for him and he decides it’s not worth it to keep going.  I’m going to push him. Hard. I’m going to make his life hell. He’ll regret the day he even thought about bringing me back into this shit.”

“Just don’t kill him,” she requests. “Because I did not go crawling around in that disgusting sewer in Dhaka only for you to end up killing him in the end.”

“I won’t kill him. I promise. Punish him. But not kill him.”

“And if he doesn’t? Crack and give up?”

“Then I pray wherever he goes that he doesn’t completely fuck up. Let’s not talk about it, okay?” He squeezes her shoulder. “We’ll worry about that when and if the time comes. Let’s just get past Millie’s birthday and get the training started and see where things end up. Can we do that? Not talk about it until then?”

She nods in agreement.

“Thank you,” he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “By the way, did you know her daughter talks to herself?”

Esme laughs. “I know. She gives herself a pep talk every morning after she brushes her teeth. She makes me leave the room and then she stands on the counter and talks to herself in the mirror. She totally hypes herself up for the day. You should hear what she says. It’s cute and it’s inspiring and hilarious all at the same time.”

“She said something to me about having an awesome day and no one dulling her sparkle.”

“That’s part of it. That’s always in there. But she adds in new things every day. She reminds me of a football coach psyching his players up with some intense pregame speech. She is SO your daughter.”

“I do NOT talk to myself.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean she is so much like you in every way. She can be so intense and so focused and then just so sweet and cute and...”

“Wait a second...” he frowns. “...are you seriously calling me cute and sweet? What the fuck?”

“Cute might not be the right way to describe you,” Esme admits. “More like ruggedly handsome and phenomenally sexy. But you can be so sweet. Don’t look at me like that,” she laughs, when he gives her a foul look. “It’s true. You CAN be so sweet, and it makes you even more attractive than you already are. I don’t need you to be tough and kick ass all the time. I love the softer side of you. I love all your sides.”

He grins.

“Especially your naked sides,” she adds, giggling when he smirks and leans into her; his mouth covering hers in a long, slow kiss that curls her toes and has her fingers digging into his side. “By the way,” she grins afterwards. “Your naked sides were in fine form last night.”

“So were yours. Along with your hands. And your mouth.”

“And my teeth,” she adds, and pressing two fingers to the bite mark that graces his left trap muscle. “Sorry. That one’s really noticeable.”

“You should see the one on my thigh. That one broke the fucking skin AND drew blood.”

“Excuse you...” she lifts the leg of her pajama shorts, revealing the rather large hickey and bite mark that sits alongside of it. “...you should talk! I don’t want to hear you complaining. One of those CSI people could get a perfect dental impression from that thing. You bite a lot harder than I do.”

Tyler grins. “You like it.”

“That’s beside the point. You’re kinky and a bad influence.”

“I bring out all the best sides of you, baby.”

“And the dirtiest ones,” she says, and it’s her turn to kiss him. Even longer this time. More intense. Just feeling the tip of his tongue press against hers when they hear the sliding door being drawn further across the track behind them.  

“Stop,” Esme orders without looking over her shoulder. “Which one are you?”

“Tanner,” comes the reply.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing,” little arms circle her neck from behind. “Hi mommy,” he chirps, and pecks her cheek.

“Hi,” she turns her face into his and tousles his hair. “Did you sleep good?”

“Yep,” he wraps his arms around her father’s neck. “Hi daddy,” he cheerfully greets, and then settles himself in Tyler’s lap, who in turn runs a palm over his son’s hair; gently forcing the five year old’s head back and pressing his lips to his brow and giving him a wink. “What are you guys doing out here?” he asks.

“Mommy and daddy stuff,” Tyler replies.

“Making babies?”

Esme sighs. “That is not all that mommies and daddies do despite what your sister tells you.”

“Sometimes mommies and daddies just practice making babies,” Tyler says, and his wife stares at him, both brows arched. “Well they do.”

“Is that what you guys were doing?” Tanner inquires and helps himself to a sip of his father’s now lukewarm coffee. “Practicing?”

“We never quite got there,” Tyler admits. “Because someone likes to cock block.”

Tanner frowns. “What does that mean? Cock block?”

“It means your dad needs to watch what he says around you,” Esme responds. “And it means you do not go to school and repeat that, okay? You do not use those words around your teacher or out on the playground or anywhere. And you especially do not say them around TJ or there will be trouble.”

“Don’t worry mommy. I know how to keep my mouth shut,” Tanner assures her.  

“Are you the only one awake?” she asks.

Tanner shakes his head, the longer strands of hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “Addie’ awake. And crying. I came downstairs and got her a bottle, but she didn’t want it. I think she needs a new diaper. I was going to do it, but I don’t really know how yet, so...”

“I’m on it,” his mother says, then finishes the last of her tea and stands up. “Maybe daddy can make breakfast.”

“He can,” Tyler confirms.

“And call Ovi,” she adds, and bends down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try to find Kyle.”

“He’s next door getting his rocks off if that helps at all.”

“What does that mean?” Tanner inquires. “Getting your rocks off? That sounds fun.”

“Fun when you’re much, much older,” his mother says. “Right now, you don’t need to know what that means. Want to come and help?” she offers her son a hand. “You can practice changing diapers.”

“I do not want to be the diaper bitch,” Tanner informs her.

Esme arches an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said.”

“Who taught you that?”

“I can’t tell you. Snitches get stitches.”

“Now I know for sure who told you,” she smirks, and digs her toes into the small of her husband’s back. “Do I have to stop you two from hanging out together?”

“You can’t,” Tanner says. “He’s my dad. We live in the same house.”

“Then you stop being so much like him,” Esme says. “You got that haircut and suddenly you turned into his Mini Me. I’m going to shave that hair off when you’re sleeping.”

“No!” Tanner objects. “This hair cut is bitchin’.”

“I didn’t teach him that,” Tyler informs her.  

“That was Uncle Kyle,” she concludes. “Only Uncle Kyle uses that word in this day and age. You two behave, okay? No more cuss words.  I’m getting tired of the teachers complaining about you kids’ mouths. And you...” she presses her toes into Tyler’s ass. “...please watch what you say. They repeat everything. Remember what happened when you call TJ’s a stupid fat cow at the dinner table? It got back to her. The very next day.”

“I apologized to her. I told her I was sorry. That I was sorry she’s a stupid fat cow.”

“She is,” Tanner says. “A stupid fat cow.”

“Enough,” Esme orders, and tousles his hair. “Stop repeating every bad thing you father says and you...” she slaps Tyler’s shoulder. “...stop saying so many bad things around him. This is the sweet one. The cute one. The one everyone likes. Don’t turn in him into his brother.”

“I could never be that bad,” Tanner scoffs.  

“You just like to extort money out of people,” Tyler says.  

“You fell for it. Mommy said you would.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow as he regards his wife. “You were in on it.”

“It was a social experiment. To see how far his cuteness could get him. He totally fooled you. Don’t hate me because the player got played.”

“Mommy!” TJ hollers, his face appearing in his bedroom window. “Addie’s flipping her shit!”

“This house is hopeless,” she sighs, and heads for the door. “Utterly hopeless.”

“Mommy is way too uptight,” Tanner concludes, as she disappears into the house.

“Just a little,” Tyler agrees.

“But you love her right?”

“Of course, I do. I’m married to her. She’s your mom.”

“Not every mommy and daddy love each other,” Tanner points out.

“No. They don’t. But I love your mom very much. More than I ever thought I could ever love someone. And she gave me you and your brothers and your sisters and that just made me love her even more.”

“I’m going to have two wives when I grow up,” his son declares.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Why not?”

“Do you know how hard it is to keep one happy never mind two?”

“Mommy’s happy.”

“Think she is?”

Tanner nods. “She’s sticks around, doesn’t she?”

“Good point.”

“I think you’re doing a good job. I mean, mommy’s happy and she smiles a lot and you’re the best daddy ever, so...”

“Best ever, huh?” He wraps both arms around his son’s waist and kisses his cheek.  

“Ever,” Tanner affirms. “In the whole world. I hope you’re my daddy forever.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Where am I going?”

“I heard mommy and Uncle Kyle talking. About you going away and that you might not come back.”

Fuck.

“Are you? Going away? You said you wouldn’t go away anymore. When you got back last time. Did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie. I’d never lie to you.”

“Then where are you going? Why is mommy so worried about you leaving?”

“I’m not going anywhere. There’s just some things I need to do. Here at home. And there’s a chance...if they don’t go well...that I might have to leave. Not for long, though. Just for a little bit.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” Tanner turns around to face him; kneeling on his thighs and holding his face in his hands. “If you go away, you’ll come home, yeah?”

“Of course, I will. Nothing can stop me from coming home.”

“Because I’d miss you,” tears sparkle in the five-year old’s eyes. “If you went away and didn’t come back...” his voice cracks. “...I’d miss you so much, daddy.”

“It’s alright, mate,”  he gathers Tanner into his arms; one hand on the back of his head, the other in the middle of his back; feeling the tears that drip onto his shoulder and how that little body trembles against him. “It’s going to be okay,” he promises. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

[livingcorner]

Glossary of Bathroom Terms and Definitions

Bathroom remodeling can be overwhelming if you’re not completely familiar with all the associated terminology. To help you navigate the world of bathroom vanities, faucets, sinks and other bathroom fixtures, Modern Bathroom has created this helpful glossary of definitions for some of the most common bathroom-related terms. If you’re unsure about a bathroom vanity feature, unclear on the benefits of different counter materials or simply want to communicate better with your general contractor, you can brush up on your bathroom furniture vocabulary right here.

Read more: Sydney’s disastrous flood wasn’t unprecedented: we’re about to enter a 50-year period of frequent, major floods

A

Antique Vanity

A bathroom vanity that is made of new materials but which features styling, hardware and finishes representative of an antique era such as Victorian or Colonial

B

Backsplash

A piece of granite, marble, stone or glass that attaches to the back of the bathroom vanity counter and protects the adjoining wall from water damage due to splashes

Basin

The container that holds water from a bathroom vanity faucet, also referred to as a sink

Brass

A metal alloy made of copper and zinc known for being strong and resistant to corrosion, sometimes treated for an antique look and often used in the construction of bathroom faucets and sinks

C

Cabinet

The storage area of a bathroom vanity featuring drawers and/or interior shelves, or a separate storage unit (wall-mounted or freestanding) used to house bathroom products such as towels, soap and cosmetics

Caesarstone

A material made of 93% natural quartz known for its stain, scratch, and heat-resistant properties, typically used in bathroom vanity countertops

Ceramic

A material made from nonmetallic minerals such as clay, known for its hard, heat-resistant and corrosion-resistant properties, typically used for bathroom vanity sinks and countertops

Clawfoot

Refers to a bathtub that has four “feet” shaped like an animal’s foot and claws, and which is free-standing in style rather than enclosed in an alcove or dropped into a tile enclosure

Contemporary Vanity

A bathroom vanity that features a modern take on traditional styling, with a look that is popular in the current era

Counter or Countertop

The top surface of a bathroom vanity that surrounds the sink, typically made of glass, stone, granite or marble

D

Demilune

Crescent or half-moon shaped, typically used to describe bathroom vanities

Double Vanity

A bathroom vanity that includes two sinks, typically used in master bathrooms

F

Factory-Direct

Refers to a retailing method where products are manufactured and sold by the same company without a middle man, typically resulting in lower prices

Faucet Mount

The opening(s) in a bathroom vanity countertop for the installation of a faucet, typically a single hole (for one-piece faucets) or three holes (for widespread faucets)

Finish

A stain or weathering process applied to wood in order to give it a certain color or appearance

Full Immersion

Refers to bathtubs that are deeper than normal, allowing water to cover the bather up to their shoulders

G

Granite

An igneous rock typically composed of quartz and other minerals, known for its hardness and durability, often used in slab form as a countertop for bathroom vanities

H

Hand-Hammered

A process whereby metal is pounded by hand with a hammer to induce a rough surface, typically used on metal sinks

Heat-Tempered

Refers to glass that has been hardened to prevent cracking and shattering through a process of rapid heating and cooling

Integral or Integrated

Refers to vanity sinks that are constructed of the same piece of material as the bathroom vanity countertop, resulting in a clean, continuous surface that deters the growth of mold and bacteria

L

Laminate

A composite material formed through the pressing and bonding of several layers of wood, plastic or other materials

Lavatory

A sink or basin with running water and a drain, can also be used to refer to a toilet or bathrooms in general

M

Man-Made Quartz

A material that has the strength and durability of natural quartz, but which is created using a man-made process

Marble

A metamorphic limestone-based rock featuring natural color variations and known for its hardness and smoothness, often used in slab form as a countertop for bathroom vanities

Modern Vanity

A bathroom vanity that pushes the boundaries of contemporary styling, featuring cutting-edge, futuristic design

Mounting Ring

A ring-shaped piece metal and rubber, used to stabilize curved vessel sinks and seal the opening between the sink and drain pipes

O

One-Piece Toilet

A toilet comprised of one single piece of china or other material (as compared to a two-piece toilet)

P

P Trap

A section of pipe that contains sewer gases and prevents them from being released through bathroom sink drains

Pedestal Vanity

A narrow, vertically-shaped vanity that usually does not include a vanity cabinet, sometimes featuring a sink and base both constructed of one piece of porcelain or china

Pop-Up Drain

A drain for bathroom sinks with an adjustable cap that can be lifted to allow water through or lowered to seal the drain and fill the basin

Porcelain

A nonporous, typically white material made from ceramic that has been fired and then glazed, often used in the manufacture of bathroom vanity sinks and countertops

Pre-Cut

Typically refers to a bathroom vanity countertop that has been cut to allow the insertion of a drop-in sink

R

Rub-Through

Refers to a finishing technique that involves sanding away the top layer of paint or stain to reveal the wood below, sometimes used on bathroom vanities to create an antique look

S

Shower Panel

A shower fixture that features multiple showerheads at varying heights and locations to target different parts of the body

Single-Hole Faucet Mount

Refers to a bathroom vanity countertop that has a single hole for the installation of a bathroom faucet

T

Transitional Vanity

A bathroom vanity representing a style found between antique and modern, sometimes referred to as contemporary traditional

Two-Piece Toilet

A toilet comprised of a separate bowl and tank (as compared to a one-piece toilet)

V

Vanity Console

Another name for a vanity cabinet or one-piece vanity and countertop

Vanity Set

Refers to a bathroom vanity, mirror and sometimes storage cabinet that are sold together for one price

Veneer or Veneered

A thin layer of wood applied to another surface for decorative purposes, or a surface that has been decorated with veneers, often used on upscale bathroom vanity cabinets

Vessel Sink

A bathroom sink designed to sit partially or fully above the vanity countertop, typically made of colored glass, porcelain or ceramic

Vitreous China

Porcelain or ceramic that has been made nonporous and glossy through the heated application of a glass or silica based solution

W

Wall-Mounted

Refers to bathroom vanities, mirrors, faucets and storage cabinets that must be installed on a vertical wall rather than stood on a horizontal surface

Widespread Faucet Spacing

Refers to a bathroom vanity countertop that has three holes for the installation of a bathroom faucet, where the number of inches refers to the distance between the two outside holes (ex. 8″ widespread spacing)

You're reading: Glossary of Bathroom Terms and Definitions

Read more: 16 Beige Bathroom Ideas for a Relaxing, Spa-Worthy Escape

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Bathroom

source https://livingcorner.com.au/glossary-of-bathroom-terms-and-definitions/

[twelvesignsrp]

congratulations nicola/lola, capricorn is now coraline “cora” lansbury with the faceclaim aisha dee

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Capricorn

Character name: Coraline “Cora” Lansbury Birthday: 24/12/1997 Sexuality: Pansexual Gender: Cisgendered Female Moon Sign: Scorpio Faceclaim: Aisha Dee please if that’s okay c:

Power

Super Strength — For as long as she can recall, there has been one giant taboo making its rounds through Cora’s mind whenever she was in need of a reminder: giving up was never an option, failure unacceptable. But instead of cracking under the pressure applied on her fragile frame by both her family and herself, she never troubled herself with the prospect of not succeeding for she knew, deep within her, that she would always be stronger than her opponents or the obstacles she was to face. Some might call it exaggerated confidence, its roots untraceable even for her, but her belief in herself has so far secured her a spotless track record. And even if she was to not come in first place, she had always persisted, her endurance admirable enough for her performance to still be considered a victory of a different kind.

What do they study?

With possibilities seemingly endless, Cora struggled to make a final decision for quite a while but eventually wound up opting for International Relations. She has always exhibited a keen interest in politics and the law, in the order of the world and how its staying in tact was to be ensured, even long before she had reached the appropriate age for such worries. While Law and Politics were available separate options, she found her concern for worldwide affairs to be best covered in the major she has eventually chosen.

Biography:

A wide-eyed doll of unconventional porcelain, dark locks sizzling like flames under the force of gushes of wind. Faster. Stronger. Better. It had always been on her to bring glory to the name, never mind the difficulties she had to face others failed to fathom.

A rabbit-hearted girl could outsmart the lazy lion in a heartbeat, for endurance is true strength.

An only child, the Lansburys only hope after so many desperate attempts resulted in nothing but pain and heartbreak, Cora didn’t need to be told that she carried the weight of being destined for greatness on her slim shoulders — yet she would, several times over. Medically, she was considered a miracle (of natural conception, no less), a word that would echo through her mind in the voices of various relatives until she had grown infatuated with its meaning. A Christmas miracle of a child, a wunderkind — an aspiration well suited for a child like her, the girl who always seemed to stand out from the crowds no matter how hard she tried to blend in. Her brows too bushy, her curls too unruly, her smile too wild and forceful; a natural-born outsider among the upper-class crowd, their dullness threatening to swallow her individuality alive if she wanted to stick with them and have a shot at their successes. But a girl as clever as her was not meant to struggle for long, nor to betray herself in favour of conformity.

Instead, a warrior was born amidst a sea of rosé tulle, flashing her fangs at afternoon playdates and digging her claws into the keys to victory: education and training, practising until there was nothing left to learn, nothing left to devour by a soul as eager as hers. Her future shone brightly, kneeling at her feet in an act of devotion, but popularity was a whole other story, a different battle to win. They knew her as an overachiever now, the girl who could potentially help you with your homework but was often too stubborn to do so. Before that, they had known her as the odd one out, a misfit trying too hard to squeeze herself into their pristine puzzle of poshness, and they had never failed to find the right names to let her know she just wasn’t quite right for them. Hardened by the times, she strode on, Coraline the lone wolf, blissful in her own company and that of her family, a loving bunch luckily providing her with a handful of cousins in a similar age group that never allowed her to experience true loneliness. At the very least, she would never be naive enough to trust blindly. A girl with her insight into the human psyche and the different types of people it produced — deep enough to be able to sort them within seconds she would like to think — knows all too well whom to avoid to not get hurt again.

By sixth form, her last struggle had been overcome. Cora had found her kind, a decent sized group of a somewhat snobby but lovable bunch usually knee-deep in first world upper-class problems they at times could have easily averted. No matter how often they implored her not to judge them, not doing so silently often turned out to be impossible but she never saw the harm in loving judgement — even less so since she never once turned them down when it came to trying to find a solution to their woes. And thus the loner became the rock, the fixer, the shoulder to cry on who would catch your head from way up in the clouds and screw it back onto your neck with the support of a logical solution to a seemingly unsolvable issue. Sugarcoating was all but her strong suit but, alas, what use was there in denying the truth if it was your only saving grace; if there was only one way that would bring you salvation and it just so happened to be hers? Can she, in the light of that, really be blamed for not wanting to venture from the tested road she has chosen for herself when all the others look like dark, twisted alleyways leading to doom?

Hardly.

As far as she is concerned, she is on the right track and she has brought proof as well. But go ahead, try and tell her otherwise.

Five interesting facts about your character:

i. Even though starting ballet was originally her parents’ idea for her, she grew to love it almost instantly, the feeling of having complete control over her body filling her with a strange sense of inner peace strong enough to keep her coming back to occasional classes even now. Her studies don’t grant her enough time for regular courses anymore and at times she’s resort to yoga for relaxation but nothing quite compares to the feeling (or pain) of pointe shoes being tied again every to every other week.

ii. Cora, CC, Lin, Lina, Coco, Coral, Corali — she has a great variety of nicknames and willing accepts being called by either of them, though it all depends on your relationship to her whether you are allowed to use a certain name. All of them are availabe to family members and Cora is available to absolutely everyone she knows, simply because she feels Coraline sounds a bit too highbrow to fit her at times, but if you’re not a blood relative, you’ll have to earn the right to use a certain batch.

iii. Another (nerdy) passion of hers are languages and literature. Her library at home was excessive, mostly dominated by classics even though the first book series she fell in love with was, unsurprisingly, Harry Potter (Hermione being the first character she ever identified with), but not at all limited to those or merely English literature in general. She more or less fluently speaks English, German, Spanish, French and Italian at this point and is looking to branch out into the Asian and African continent if she should find the time to acquire more.

iv. People tend to assume she is joking but her instrument of choice and the only one she can play exceptionally well is the ukulele. Sometimes, when is trying to clear her mind, one can find her strumming away on it, lost in thought or composing her own original songs — though she would stop singing immediately the second she realises she has company as her singing voice is one of the few things she isn’t confident in.

v. As a child, she had a pet rabbit called Cookie whom she would carry around with her wherever she was allowed to bring him. Her trust in him was so strong that he ended up being the only creature she would tell her secrets to and thus his demise hit her even harder than most kids. Still, she owns a locket her mother gave her when she wouldn’t stop grieving with a photo of the rabbit as well as a small strand of its fur. She doesn’t wear it anymore but keeps it in her jewellery box and likes to hold onto it for comfort when she is devastatingly sad.

Character Quote

“The water sustains me without even trying; the water can’t drown me, I’m done with my dying.” — The Water by Johnny Flynn

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?

Regardless of the fact that she had one as a child, Cora has long since assumed that her patronus would have to be a rabbit. Like her, they are all too often underestimated and deemed weak and cowardly yet they tend to have the upper hand even in very perilous situations, are resilient and clever.

WRITING SAMPLE

The world’s mysteries at the reach of her fingertips; an ambitious dream but hardly out of line for someone as dedicated. She had grasped it all but love, love alone should proof to be her Achilles’ heel. A good generously dished out by her parents, her family, the selected few who had her trust but none of it had been acquired through war, battled for, pursued with utmost urgency. Someone as composed, controlled and seemingly emotionally cold as her had to be too focused to be distracted by sinful, weakening impulses, right?

Alas, her time would come and she would succumb like a moth to the flame, drowning in its waves, forceful as a tsunami. Succumb gladly, until the fairytale turned bad.

Michael had been a good match for her, they had all said so, constant affirmation honey on a greedy winner’s tongue. As per usual, she was on top of the world, one part of the school’s dream couple. The ugly duckling had once and for all become a swan of radiant, unstoppable beauty, making memories she was hoping to cherish forever despite being a realist by birth. Deep down, Cora had known that this would be a fleeting love, like most puppy loves: intense, all-consuming but as quickly to burn out as it had first been sparked. All these nights, wrapped up in each other or out in the countryside with his old Mercedes, silently watching the stars with Cigarettes After Sex on the car stereo — all of them turned into regrets when she could no longer fight her suspicions, with one swift swipe of her thumb. Why did Michael have to be just about the only person on this planet who still didn’t use a passcode for his phone?

She had come out to visit him in his dorm as she did every other weekend ever since he had left for university, being a year her senior, and was waiting for him to return to the bathroom when she just had to give in and choose the worst possible pastime option. Teeth dug into her bottom lip, an inner voice scolding her for becoming one of those distrusting girls who went through their boyfriend’s phones, the kind she deemed ridiculous just a year before but distance had made her see their point all too clearly. Cora squeezed her eyes shut as her fingertip brushed against the green icon leading her straight to Michael’s messages. A pause, a breath, a beat and she pressed down anyway, fluttering lids giving room to widened pupils as her whole world came crashing down. Figuratively, of course, though at the time it felt literal, the weight of it crushing her heart into a billion shards, provisorily patched up by nothing but pure, unadulturated rage.

Her fist curled up around the mobile phone, teeth gritted as she forced herself to take a deep, albeit shaky breath. ‘Be rational,’ Cora’s mind warned her with the warmth of the big sister the universe hadn’t allowed her to have. ‘Give him a chance to explain. Don’t just assume things that fit your paranoia.’ Only that she didn’t have to assume. It was perfectly fucking clear. The phone’s screen cracked under the force of her grip without her even paying attention to it just before the door swung open again, marking the return of a cheerful now ex-boyfriend to be. “Who’s Louise?” was all she could recall herself saying to him, her tone verging on a screeching scream. “Who the fuck is Louise?” Stuttered explanations fell on deaf ears, her vision blurred by anger as she scrambled to her feet, the phone dropping onto the bed and her empty fist now hitting the boy’s chest, once, twice — but not thrice for a soft push had sent him flying into the wall behind him, leaving the two of them dumbstruck with fear.

Panic pushed its way through the raging curtain, prompting Cora to rely on her instincts and flee, her pace steadily sped up until she ran to safety, to her escape, to her car. Instantly, she locked the doors from the inside, fumbling to stick her keys into the ignition but dropping them in shock, her breathing unsteady, eyes glued to the inside of her right palm. Blood dripped from small but undeniable cuts in her skin, some of them pricked by small glass shards driven deeply into the soft surface for which she had only one explanation — one explanation that was, under no circumstances, possible whatsoever. Then again…

Could this really have been her doing? All of this? Hell, she was half Michael’s size and weight. Even the mere thought of her being capable of pushing him into a wall without using excruciating force or of cracking a phone’s screen onehandedly went against all logic. Yet…

It took her ten minutes to finally lean down and pick up her keys. Ten minutes filled with heavy breathing, shivering and tears. Ten minutes and a fuzzy mind fumbling for a reasonable explanation as though its life depended on it. At last, she turned them in the ignition, foot pressing down on the clutch pedal. Perhaps it was her wrath. Perhaps it had become an odd driving force that enabled her to access supernatural powers, like those distressed mothers trying to rescue their kids by lifting cars and the likes. Granted, not the best example but it made some sense, right? Right. Another deep breath as she backed out of the parking lot. That had to be it.

Nothing unsual. All was well. Just your average, enraged girl who had been cheated on. She may have always been a bit of the odd one out but that odd? No fucking way.

ANYTHING ELSE?

thank you loads for taking the time to read my messy incoherent crap!! i haven’t written a bio in months and i’m afraid it shows, unfortunately — & my favourite colour is royal blue c:

[rocky-alex]

Motels Won’t Cut It Anymore

Word count: 1066

Warnings: Nothing here

Pairing: Reader x Sam

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Chapter nine: If You’re Going To Ride My Baby

You hated yourself. And Dean. Especially Dean. This was all his fault. You’d started the whole thing, you knew that, but he kept it going. So yeah, blaming him sounded pretty good right about now. You didn’t dare crack your eyes open just yet, settling for just listening to what was going on around you. Turned out, Sam had gotten you your own room, which you really appreciated at the moment. You heard groaning coming from the room next to yours, and the fact that Dean was suffering right along with you filled you with glee. It was what he deserved, the not so little shit.

You weren’t allowed to stay in bed for long. A few minutes later there was an obnoxious knock on your door.

“Go away!” you groaned. Instead of going away, whoever was at the door had the nerve to open it and come inside. You blearily turned your head toward your intruder and saw Sam standing in the doorway.

“Wow,” he said. “You look even worse than Dean, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Could you not shout?” You slowly sat up, holding your pounding head in your hands. Sam just laughed. “Just please stop with the loud noises,” you begged. To your relief he did. You heard him walk to the bathroom and then the tap running. His footsteps returned and you saw a glass appear under your eyes.

“Drink up.”

You took the glass from his hand and held it up in front of you. You thought about drinking the water and your stomach started roiling. Sam looked expectantly at you.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you said. You put the glass on the floor and ran to the bathroom and got to the toilet just in time. Never again would you consume that much alcohol that fast. You’d actually woken up in the middle of the night, feeling completely fine. You’d known something was wrong, your hangovers were usually legendary. Now you knew why.

“Uughhh…” you groaned and lay your head gently against the cool porcelain of the toilet. Sam dared to peek around the corner. You looked up at him.

“Can I please just have until lunchtime?” He frowned. Geez, what was the hurry? You’d get wherever you were going eventually. “Please, Sam,” you begged. “I can’t drive like this, and there’s no way I’m letting one of you jumbo’s drive my baby.” Sam sighed.

“Just as well, I guess. I don’t think Dean’s good to drive either, despite what he says.”

“Great,” you said thankfully.

You’d passed out again after losing everything in your stomach. Sam had made you swallow a couple glasses of water and an advil before letting you sleep. You woke up a couple hours later, just before midday. Feeling much better you stretched before getting up. You gathered your things and left the room. Sam and Dean were already standing by the car, tossing their things in the trunk. You walked over and put yours in as well.

“Feeling better, Y/N?”

“Much,” you answered Sam, looking at Dean. He looked like shit, eyes saggy and squinting in the sunlight. Your one victory seemed to be that your hangover passed quicker than his.

“How you doing over there, Tay tay?”

“Bite me, Dorothy.” You cackled, watching him wince. “Let’s go, I need coffee.”

The diner wasn’t anything special, but they had hot, strong coffee and bacon, both things you craved at the moment. To your slight disappointment, Dean recovered fast once he got his hands on a cup of joe. Sam interrupted your thoughts.

“So we can talk to you while you’re driving?” You shook your head and looked at his phone.

“Yeah, my helmet has speakers and a microphone, hooked up to my phone through a cord. It also works over bluetooth,” you explained. “This way I can listen to music, and take calls when I need to. I have a controller on the handlebar so I don’t have to move or lift my hands. That one is connected to both the speakers and my phone through bluetooth.” Sam looked kind of impressed and you gave a small laugh.

“I used to travel a lot before settling down in Oregon, and I love music.”

“Yeah? What do you listen to?” His interest caught you off guard, but made you smile.

“A lot of different things. At the moment it’s a mixlist with mostly random classic rock songs.” Dean raised his head.

“Really?” Oh it’s on.

“Try me”

“Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.”

“Pfft, please. Bob Dylan.” Dean pursed his lips and nodded.

“You’re good,” he said. He looked at the clock on the wall. “Time to hit the road,” he continued and got up from his seat, leaving a few bills on the table. You saw him catch the waitress’ eye across the room and wink, smiling at her. Ugh.

Just like yesterday, you followed behind Dean until you got to the highway. Before you started driving you’d asked Sam which directions to follow, and finally found out your more exact destination. Lebanon, Kansas. Now able to just follow road directions you could relax a bit. Dean drove like a maniac, and while you had had no problem keeping up with him the day before, it was nice to know that if you lost track of them in heavier traffic you’d still know where to go.

The highway was deserted, so you drove up next to the chevy again. Dean honked the horn, so you glanced to the side, seeing him giving a slight wave before stepping on it. No way. You revved the engine, easily catching up. You didn’t slow down but instead flipped Dean the bird and drove past, going in front of him. You smirked under the visor of your helmet. Reckless you may be, but Dean was annoying. It was worth it. The next song on the list came on and you smiled at the familiar guitar sound.

“I took my baby on a saturday bang,

Boy is that girl with you

Yes, we’re one and the same

Now I believe in miracles

And a miracle has happened tonight

But if you’re thinkin’ about my baby

It don’t matter if you’re black or white”

The sun was shining high in the sky, you had your baby, and the chevy behind you couldn’t keep up. Life was good, considering your circumstances.

[pandabearlikes]

Story Archive Master Post

Chapter Stories

The Lucky One (completed)

Characters: You x Sehun  Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama, Family  Number of Chapters: 15 

Ten years of unrequited love.  One night that changed your life forever.   

Table of Contents:

I. One Night II. Shame III. Reunion IV. His Gift V. Pandora’s Box VI. Her Deal VII. Stuck in a Bubble VIII. Like an Hallucination IX. Warning X. “Yes” XI. Calm Before the Storm XII. Oh Youngwoo XIII. Omma XIV. One Night (Reprise) XV. Epilogue  

※ ※ ※

Cat and Mouse (completed)

Characters: Luhan x You x Chanyeol   Genre: Romance, Action, Drama, Angst   Number of Chapters: 7

You are a trained assassin.  He is a top ranking police officer.  

Table of Contents:

Forwards I. Heartbeat II. So Close III. Forgotten Souls IV. Replacement V. Decoy VI. Park Chanyeol VII. Epilogue

※ ※ ※

Temporary Affairs (completed)

Characters: You x Kai Genre: Romance, Light-Hearted Comedy, Fluff Number of Chapters: 17

In which Kim Jongin is your tall, dark, handsome, and sexy husband to be…of course…due to an arranged marriage…  

Table of Contents:

I. Mismatch II. Lee Sohee III. Puppet IV. Your Offer V. Lovesick VI. Lovesick II VII. Lovesick III VIII. Breathless IX. Chicken Feet X. The Ex XI. Sweet Potato Pie XII. Head Over Heels   XIII. Resolution XIV. For Better or For Worse XV. First Night XVI. The Fight XVII. It’s Okay, That’s Love 

※ ※ ※

Temporary Affairs II (completed)

Characters: You x Kai Genre: Romance, Angst, Fluff, Family Number of Chapters: 13

In which you married the man of your dreams, got pregnant with his child, yet still don’t really know if he loves you…  

Table of Contents:

I. Unasked Questions II. Lucky Charm III. Perfect Imperfection IV. The Fated and The Unexpected V. The Caretaker VI. Self-ie-conscious VII. Kim Yoona VIII. Those Three Words IX. His True Love X. Friends Not Foes XI. Little Miracle XII. The Proposal   XIII. Happiness

※ ※ ※

still trying to figure out why these don’t work :( please bear with me.

Beautiful Distraction (completed)

Characters: You x Tao Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Addiction Number of Chapters: 8

Disclaimer: This story may contain themes that may cause discomfort in younger readers (for example, sex and addiction).  

When reality is just too much and parts of you begin to slip away…

Table of Contents:

I. Distraction II. Illusion III. The Role IV. Addiction V. Consequences VI. You VII. Separate Universes VIII. Epilogue

※ ※ ※

The Lucky One II (completed)

Characters: You x Sehun Genre: Romance, Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff, Family Number of Chapters: 22

One night that granted you a lifetime of blessings, happiness, sorrow, and heartbreaks with the love of your life.  

“I love you,” he spoke and you melted into his arms, believing every word, every syllable that slipped out of those soft lips.  

Table of Contents:

I. Oh Baby, Baby II. Our Little Adventure III. Birthday Surprise IV. Innocent Love V. Hidden VI. Abandoned Hearts VII. Surprise Present VIII. The Protector IX. Blood and Water X. Wake Up Call XI. The Half Truth XII. Maternal Instincts   XIII. Young Love XIV. Young Love II XV. Omma’s Martial Artist XVI. Sweetpea XVII. Formal Closure XVIII. It Was Perfect XIX. True Love XX. Pieces to a Whole XXI. Mending the Wounds XXII. Epilogue

※ ※ ※

Skinny Love (completed)

Characters: Yoona (You) x Youngwoo (a.k.a. Kai’s daughter x Sehun’s son) Genre: Romance, Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff, Family, High School Drama Number of Chapters: 20

“When you’re around someone so much, for so long, they become a part of you and when they go away, you don’t know who you are without them”.

Table of Contents:

I. The Chase II. The Protector III. The Confession IV. Oh Youngji V. Realization VI. Maybe VII. First Love VIII. The Resolve IX. I Love You, Kim Yoona X. Painful Decision XI. The Break XII. Losing Him   XIII. Whenever It Rains XIV. When Love Falls XV. If We Are Together XVI. Separation XVII. To Have and To Hold XVIII. Telepathy XIX. Forever Yours XX. Art of Seduction

※ ※ ※

One Thousand Years (completed)

Characters: You x Chanyeol Genre: Romance, Angst, Fantasy, Friendship Number of Chapters: 15

A thousand years of rain that span three lifetimes…When predestined enemies fall in love…invisible barriers are pushed aside.  A relationship doomed from the very beginning.  

Table of Contents:

I. The Bunny and The Wolf II. Predator Instincts III. Love IV. Love II V. Separation VI. Forbidden Love VII. Vows VIII. Inevitable Fate IX. One Thousand Years X. Melodies of Love XI. Jade Bunny XII. Home XIII. Forbidden Love (Reprise) XIV. Happy Ending XV. Epilogue

※ ※ ※

Glass Flower (completed)

Characters: You x Suho Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Number of Chapters: 7

Disclaimer: This story may contain themes that may cause discomfort in younger readers (for example, abuse).  

You were his flower and he was your water.

Table of Contents:

I. Invisibility II. Water and Flower III. Seed IV. Seed II V. Rebirth VI. Second Chance VII. Epilogue

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STORY MASTER ARCHIVE PART 2

※ ※ ※

If some links don’t work on tumblr mobile app, please visit my Stories Back Up Tumblr I will try to organize it soon.