#and it was much easier to keep it under lock and key to avoid it being seen as a weakness

[myoonmii]

I keep thinking about Merlin’s love for Arthur and how it’s so clearly portrayed in the show to the point that it practically drives the plot of the show. However when it comes to Arthur’s love for Merlin it’s more subtle and sometimes difficult to even grasp, and I started thinking why that was, aside from the obvious fact that Arthur has a lot of trouble expressing his emotions affection or otherwise. I think it also lies in the fact that Merlin knows Arthur intrinsically throughout the show; he is one of the closest people to Arthur, and sees him for who he really is. Arthur admits as much.

Sure, Arthur knows Merlin but the main part of the plot is that he really doesn't know Merlin. Merlin wants him to desperately understand him and “see me for who I am” but he can't yet. And I think this subconsciously creates a barrier in the way in which Arthur can care for Merlin, and how Merlin can let himself be seen by Arthur.

Which is why I think he was also so hurt when the magic reveal happens because more than the betrayal of Merlin having magic, it was the betrayal of Merlin not letting Arthur see him for who he really is and for hiding a main part of himself. Arthur says it himself “why did you never tell me” that’s what hurt him the most.

I think the most damning piece of evidence for this is the fact that while we see snippets of Arthur’s feelings for Merlin thought the show, the biggest signs are in the last episode after the magic reveal; in which he finally gets to understand Merlin, and this time REALLY know Merlin, and as the barriers of what held them back from understanding each other truly fall away, Arthur evidently “falls in love with Merlin all over again”. We see him actually express himself to Merlin.

This is another reason why I think if anyone was ever to create another season of Merlin after Arthur’s return, it’s physically impossible not to make it about Merlin and Arthur acknowledging their feelings for each other. Because there is no way forward without them acknowledging how deeply they care for each other, obviously anyone is free to argue what kind of love that is, but its impossible not to see the deep love there either way.

They always knew they loved each other, just maybe never realising how much and what that means, because its almost second nature to everything that they do.

[ceilidho]

sirius c

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately. Ghost isn't interested in letting him go down that path alone. (ghoap x reader) [read on ao3 here] general dubcon/noncon tag final chapter masterlist

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He hungers like a bad dream.

Not one easily shaken off. All his life, it’s been like this. Poor boy with nothing to his name, stomach empty and aching. Every morsel and scrap saved for his little brother, the boy he once thought of as his charge; his to protect. That was a long time ago. Back when he first trained himself to walk on his tiptoes to avoid the loose, creaky floorboard and learned to turn doorknobs slowly so they wouldn’t ricochet back. Back when making any sound when his father wasn’t off working at the scrapyard was anathema. 

The pain of remembering doesn’t come often, but when it does, it pulsates through him. It’d be easy to say that it’s all behind him. Easier said than done. 

Time has changed him though. With his desires pinned down all his life, he’s grown up gnarled and deformed, a hollow coring down the centre of him. 

Even now, the acrid scent of want withers in the air.

“The two of ye have a good time all by yourselves?” Johnny asks when they walk through the front door, talking to the bird but meeting Ghost’s eyes instead. 

Ghost’s smile from over her head is smug. A subtle thing, barely a twitch of his lips. Johnny catches it though, his attention always finely tuned to the little things that Ghost lets slip. Always intentional, always with purpose. 

Jealousy wars with glee briefly before the latter emerges victorious, Johnny’s smile splitting his face in half. Good. Ghost doesn’t enjoy hurting his boy, but he does take pleasure in giving back what’s been dealt to him. Tit for tat. For weeks now Johnny’s hidden this little bird from him; kept her all to himself, under lock and key. Kept Ghost away from her. As if property weren’t nine tenths of the law. 

As if Johnny wasn’t already his. As if what belongs to Johnny doesn’t belong to him in turn. 

“We had a nice chat, didn’t we, doll?” he says. Barely pays attention to whatever she says after that. 

She must say something nice though because Johnny’s smile is blinding. Dusted with some suspicion, but ultimately satisfied. 

She still shakes, even half an hour later, glancing at him from the corner of her eye while cutting flowers behind the desk and baulking when she catches him staring back. He can’t say he’s surprised. His focus unnerves people bigger and stronger than her. Still, after dating the mutt for over a month, her skittishness is unexpected. 

Ghost knows fear makes the meat go sour, but still he relishes in the way she squirms and sweats in his presence. 

For the better part of the afternoon, she avoids being alone in the same room as him. When he speaks to her directly, she answers as quickly as possible, spitting the words out before hurrying to the other side of the shop to tend to some of the plants. Even eye contact is anathema. She keeps her eyes trained on her work, only occasionally interrupted by customers coming to the counter to cash out. 

It grates on his nerves. He doesn’t demand much from the bird, apart from surrender. She can hide her pleasure, cry as much as she wants, shriek and beat his back with her fists—any matter of resistance, so long as she doesn’t try to run away. 

So it pisses him off that she acts like he doesn’t exist. Reminds him again that he can never have anything. It’s an itch he can’t scratch, a pressure building behind his eyes and it’s been there for years. Since birth. It’s a hollow in his belly that he can’t fill. A hunger he can’t satiate. 

He slips away to corner her in the back office when Johnny gets swept up with a customer, pausing only long enough to admire the shape of her bent over her desk. She flinches when he comes up behind her, his hands flat on the desk on either side of her, caging her in. 

“Jesus Christ—” she hisses, her hands tightening to fists on top of the table.

“Don’t let Johnny catch you talkin’ like that,” Ghost huffs, amused. He knows better than anyone how the mutt would take her using the Lord’s name in vain. It pisses him off to no end when Ghost uses it out in the field during a snafu, no reverence of his own for the name. Ghost hasn’t had a god in years. 

“What do you want?” she asks instead of responding to that. He’s tempted to ask her if she already knows how Johnny would react to her little slip of the tongue. 

“You gonna keep pouting or wanna talk about it like adults?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, twisting her head away from him when Ghost dips his head down, smiling at the hard jut of her jaw. 

“Don’t play dumb, bird.” He loves the way she bristles at that. “You’ve been avoiding me since we got back. Hardly said a word to me in hours.”

“What does it matter?” she snaps, still looking away from him. 

“Because it’s fuckin’ rude,” Ghost growls, pleased when she shivers from the heat of his breath on her neck. 

Braced behind her, he doesn’t have a good enough view of her face to see the emotions flashing across her eyes, but he can feel the tension in her shoulders and down her spine. 

“You embarrassed or something?” he asks bluntly when she doesn’t say anything. 

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m mad,” she spits out. 

“Mad about what?”

“Are you serious?”

“I can get Johnny’s opinion if you don’t wanna say why.”

That catches her off guard. “No! Wait—please don’t. Please don’t tell him,” she begs. 

“Then spit it out.”

Her mouth opens and shuts on that, the pith of her anger hid behind clattering teeth and a thick tongue. 

“I’m…—I’m mad that you…forced me to do…that, and you made me—” She can’t bring herself to say it, the words catching in her throat. “I—”

“Came all over my fingers?”

“Don’t say that,” she snaps. 

“You just need to get your lick back,” he says, dismissively. “Then you’ll calm down.”

There’s a second where she frowns down at the desk, not entirely comprehending him, and then his hand is on the nape of her neck. He forces her down easily, bending her over the desk and slipping a finger into her mouth when she opens it to let out a shriek. 

She freezes when she registers the intrusion. 

“Go on then—get even. Bite me. Hurt me back.”

His fingers spread over her tongue, feeling the ridges and bumps. Her saliva slickens his finger down to the knuckle. He runs his finger over her gums and molars, feeling around the inside of her mouth. 

Ghost smiles to himself when he feels her teeth lightly press down, the sharp ends leaving shallow indents in his finger. She holds off biting down harder though, not more than a light pinch. Her indecision is a pleasure all on its own. 

“That all? That ain’t gonna do shit, bird. If you want something, you have to see it all the way through.”

Part of him expects the slice of pain through his finger in retaliation for his words. He even feels it for a second—the tightening of her jaw, her teeth digging in deeper, the line of her spine stiffening. It’s the possibility of pleasure that gets him worked up more than anything. The will-they-won’t-they. Like a language he can finally understand; the ringing in his ears clearing for a few precious seconds. 

He tells himself it’s not disappointment that he feels when her jaw relaxes. 

Defeat radiates off her in waves, her body slumped over with it. He lets his finger sit on her tongue for another few seconds before retracting it, the hand around her neck still holding her flat against the desk but only loosely now. She could slip out from under him if she tried. If she wanted to. 

“Okay, doll,” he murmurs before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

She sags against the desk when he lets her go, her legs almost slipping out from under her. If he didn’t know himself any better, he’d think that the heavy feeling in his chest was pity. 

Too bad he does. Know himself better, that is. 

“Your fingers taste like dirt,” she spits out right before he leaves, his hand on the doorknob, humiliated right down to her core.

Ghost turns back towards her just long enough to pop her on the ass for that, snorting under his breath when she shudders and yelps. 

She still avoids him after that but with less urgency. More like magnets of opposite polarity. Something about her seems subdued though, fatigued. Defeated because a man gave her the opportunity to hurt him back and she squandered it. Chickened out at the last moment and lost her nerve. 

He always knew she was sweet as pie. 

It’s Johnny that talks her into joining them for a pint at the pub down the road. Not that she has much of a say in the matter. It’s twilight by the time they leave the flower shop, the two of them lingering nearby while the bird sets the alarm and locks the front door. The town is ensconced in a blue hue. Neon signs sizzling in the windows of corner shops and laundromats. Stubborn weeds sprout up from between the cracks in the concrete and ivy ropes lick thick tongues up the brick facades of the nearby houses. 

At the pub, Ghost picks a booth near the far wall, nodding at Johnny to get him to slide in first so the bird has no choice but to sit between them. The two of them cut off her only escape routes. Dogs herding sheep; nipping at her heels when she falters and barking when she tries to run another way.

It clearly pisses her off, but there’s not much else she can do besides sit between them and stew in sullen silence. To her right, Johnny yaps about something that she only responds to in clipped, one-word sentences.

Ghost is aware that they’ve only gotten to this point because of her continued reluctance to make a scene. She probably still thinks that after this weekend, she’ll never have to see either of them ever again. That she only has to endure them for a little while longer before being set free—just grit her teeth and bear it.

His lips twitch. If only it were that easy for her. The bird will have to learn that she can’t always get what she wants. Spoiled thing.

He does wonder offhandedly what he’d do if she were to put up a fuss. If she excused herself to take a piss and snuck around back instead. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to just go home. They’ve already broken into her flat once. A second time wouldn’t be nearly as fun. But if she were to flag down the bartender and ask for help or phone the police on her own, would that be enough to chase them off? 

The thought lingers in his mind for a moment before Ghost shrugs it off. Unlikely. He’s as stubborn as the weeds pushing up concrete ten times their weight, unbothered by concepts such as consent or approval. He has a lifetime of unmet needs to rectify now that he’s grown, now that he has the power and means to take whatever he wants. 

Any desire in conflict with his own gets expunged. If there’s something the bird wants, he’ll see to it himself, so long as it doesn’t involve her leaving the two of them. 

He and Johnny carry on most of the conversation without her, leaving the bird to sit between them, awkward and nervous. Her restlessness doesn’t bother him a whit. The only thing Ghost bothers to keep an eye on is whether anyone else in the bar happens to notice her unease. He’s in no mood to deal with someone encroaching on his territory. 

It’s no use dwelling on what he would do if someone were to try and take either the bird or Johnny from him. Even thinking about it makes the blood pound in his ears. The glass in his hand squeaks when his grip tightens. 

Johnny yammers on about the match on the telly, his eyes darting between the screen and Ghost’s face. Back and forth and back and forth. He played football in secondary—it’s a fact he likes to bring up whenever he can.

In between them, the bird continues to sulk, sipping her drink instead of talking. 

When Johnny finally notices her mood, he frowns. “Ye havenae said a word all night, hen. What’s wrong?”

Her lips purse, gaze narrowing and shifting away. “Nothing.”

“Cannae be nothin’—ah’m nae dumb, ye ken.” 

Ghost is quick to notice the stubborn jut of Johnny’s lip and the irritated twitch in his eye. It takes nothing to rile the boy up, and he’s been on edge since they arrived the night before. The bird must notice it too because she tenses. At least Ghost’s mood swings are predictable. Johnny’s temper flares up unexpectedly, swift and furious. 

“I have to go to the washroom,” she announces suddenly. 

It does the trick of jolting Johnny out of the bad mood looming over him like a storm cloud. He blinks instead, the smile shifting back onto his face. The bird forces a brittle smile on her face in return, then scooches down the bench only to bump up against Ghost. He wonders if she expected him to get up to let her out. 

She’ll just have to learn some manners. 

Ghost waits a beat, eyebrow cocked. The bird looks up at him from the corner of her eye like she might compel him to move through thought alone. 

He stares back down at her without moving a muscle. 

“Can you move please?” she finally whispers, lips tight around the question. 

His dick stiffens in his jeans. 

He’s only too willing to oblige when she asks so nicely. Johnny gives her a messy kiss to the cheek before she manages to pull away, wrinkling her nose. Still, he only half-shifts off the bench, forcing her to squeeze out from around him, amused when she mutters a little sorry under her breath and scurries away towards the washroom at the other end of the pub. His eyes follow the sway of her ass until it disappears from sight. 

“So. What’d the two of ye really get up to earlier?”

When Ghost turns to look at Johnny again, his eyes have lost much of their playfulness. Only a sliver of it remains in the quirk of his lips, youthful naivety replaced by a well-worn guile. Sly like a fox. He has no doubt that Johnny’s already drawn his own conclusions from the bird’s twitchiness. 

“What makes you say that?” he asks instead.

“Cut the shit, Simon,” Johnny says, clipped, his shoulders tensing again. The last of his smile slips off his face. “Ye cannae tell me to trust ye 'n' then run around behind my back without telling me what’s going on.”

Ghost blinks, staring down at Johnny.

“Wanna try that again?” A warning.

Johnny’s face screws into a scowl, his upper lip curling back. Ghost waits, anticipating the flare of his anger, but then it recedes after a few seconds of self-control. 

“Jus’ tell me what ye did,” Johnny asks, eyes flicking away for a second before meeting Ghost’s again. He won’t beg, but the desperation is thick in his voice. 

When Ghost scans the bar, looking for any sign of someone eavesdropping on their conversation, he finds nothing. Scattered groups and a few stragglers at the bar, drinking themselves into a stupor, swaying on backless stools. A hazy amber light filters through the bar, dimmed since they first sat down. 

Still, the shift in conversation requires an accompanying shift in intimacy; it’s no one’s business but his. Ghost shifts down the bench until their knees knock together, until Johnny’s shallow breathing is loud in his ear. His hand drops to Johnny’s thigh, palming the muscle there. When he angles his head towards him, it’s just the two of them; no prying eyes or ears to listen in. 

“Been waiting all day to ask, haven’t ya? Thought you’d break hours ago. Had more patience than I thought.”

“Simon,” he whines.

His hand slides up Johnny’s thigh as he speaks. “Ain’t fucked her yet, if that’s what you’re worried about. Only got a couple fingers in her cunt on the drive back.” He gives it a rough squeeze, smiling to himself when Johnny’s leg jerks, knee smacking against the underside of the table and making their glasses wobble. 

“Fuck,” he curses, curling his own hand around Ghost’s thigh, like he has to keep his hands busy somehow or he’ll explode. “Thou—hng… Thought you’d wait fer me.”

“Had to be fair, didn’t I?” Ghost says, unable to resist taunting his boy. “Didn’t want the bird to feel left out after the other day.”

The sharp inhale makes his blood go hot, perverse pleasure coursing through him. 

“How’s that fair?” Johnny pants, grunting under his breath when Ghost squeezes his hand around his bulge. A flush sits high on his face already, his cheekbones stained red. 

“You got yours yesterday on the mats and now she got hers. ‘Sides, the only one who should be pissed is me. Didn’t even ask me before you fucked her for the first time.”

Even trying to muffle his sounds, Johnny’s noisy. Soft grunts and moans slip out unbidden, his legs spreading wide under the table, hips bucking up into Ghost’s hand. The sluttiest thing that Ghost has ever put his hands on. Soft, parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes, glassy with his arousal. 

“Bile yer heid. She was mine first,” Johnny grunts. Big words for a man falling apart from having his dick touched.

Ghost squeezes his hand, smiling when Johnny hisses through his teeth. “You were mine first. And what’s yours is mine.”

“Yer a lunatic, Lt,” he says, but the look in his eyes is fond, raptured. 

He doesn’t respond to that, already beyond their conversation. Truth doesn’t merit a rejoinder. It is what it is. And maybe he is damaged; maybe there is something deeply wrong with him, buried generations deep. Deeper than subcutaneous fascia; tucked beneath the dermis. Maybe he waters the seed of evil within him with enough violence to keep it dormant. 

It doesn’t change the way things are. 

His hand squeezes around Johnny’s length and gives it a rough jerk over his clothes before letting go. “Go take a walk, MacTavish. Been a while since our girl left for a piss.”

Johnny has to step outside for a moment after their conversation, heart pounding something fierce. It’d be more manageable if he knew he could sneak off to the bathroom with his girl to take the edge off, but with her still mad at him, he has no choice but to keep his hands to himself. At least until they get back home. 

Someone bums him a smoke out front, which he thanks them for before ducking into the alleyway around the side of the bar, leaning against the cold brick. 

It’s easier to collect his thoughts away from the noise of the other patrons. Smoking is Ghost’s bad habit, passed on to him over the years they’ve worked together, and it does little to relieve the tension in him. It gives him something to do with his hands though. He’s a fidgeter unless he’s out in the field; fingers drumming against his legs or stroking his girl’s hair or fiddling with the coins in his pocket until someone hands him a gun and tells him to lock in. 

He thinks maybe suppressing his impulses for so long out in the field is what leaves him so restless when he’s back on dry land. 

His cock still throbs from Ghost’s manhandling. Easy to jerk him around and leave him wanting more. Both his girl and Ghost have perfected the skill. Ghost could’ve tugged him off under the table and milked the tension from his bones, but instead he sent him outside to sulk in the cold, waiting for the bird to do something as stupid as leave without telling them. 

Johnny’s mind is in such a disarray that he can only stare in disbelief when the backdoor swings open and his sweet bird comes tumbling out. 

His mood flips so fast that it nearly blinds him. Anger snaps into him like a rubber band, quick and sharp. He almost can’t believe it. She tried to skip out on them without being noticed. Only happenstance had him already loitering in the alley, practically waiting for her to make her escape. 

The look on her face when she spots him is priceless though. Shocked dumb, her eyes big and wide, and her mouth gaped open. He stubs the cig out beneath his boot and stalks over to her, still rooted in the same spot by the backdoor looking guilty as sin. 

“On yer way out, hen?” he asks, stepping in close enough that his chest almost bumps hers. 

When she takes a step back, she bumps into the steel door behind her. Johnny follows her step for step, blocking her in with his body. Cutting her off from the rest of the world. 

“I was gonna—” she mumbles, but he cuts her off before she’s finished her sentence because he’s nearly out of patience. 

“Gonna what?” he mocks. “Go home? Without us?”

“I didn’t want to go out in the first place,” she snaps, her anger flaring up suddenly. Johnny’s cock pulses, leaking against his thigh. 

His temper nearly gets the better of him. For the way he lets Ghost treat him, he doesn’t extend that same liberty to anyone else. Even his girl. He has to slow his breathing, let it wash over him and wash away the anger blistering his insides. 

He barricades her in with a hand on the door behind her, lets the sheer size of him do the talking instead. His breathing picks up when her eyes widen. 

“Bit impolite to ditch us without even sayin’ goodbye. Matter of fact, ye havenae said a word to me all afternoon.” He ducks low enough that their noses touch. “Ye’ve had a real unpleasant fuckin’ attitude today and I’ve had it. What’s got ye all agitated?”

Her attitude breaks there, anger receding back into her. There’s a moment where he doesn’t think she’ll answer him, that she’ll try to bolt down the alleyway instead and he’ll be forced to chase her down and pin her to the dirty ground like a runaway animal. His pulse ratchets up at the thought. 

Then her bottom lip wobbles. 

“On the drive home, we—” Here she draws in a watery breath, looking almost too ashamed for words, “—Simon and I, we…—” 

He tilts his head with faux sympathy. “Ye did what?”

“He put his…” she cringes, still unable to finish the sentence. 

“Ye fooled around before driving home, hen? Is that it?”

She nods, teeth sunk deep into her bottom lip to keep from sobbing. 

Seeing her break down makes him go gooey soft. He wraps both arms around her waist and pulls her in close, resting his chin on top of her head and swaying with her in his arms, a gentle rock meant to calm her down. “Och, I ken. That’s what’s been botherin’ ye?” 

She stares up at him woundedly. “He told you?”

“‘Course Simon told me, baby,” Johnny coos. 

It’s not altogether truthful, acting like he’s known all along when in fact Ghost only told him moments ago. But he likes the way she looks up at him with big, guilty eyes, tears clumped in her lashes. 

She cringes, mortified. “And you’re—are you mad at me?”

“No, baby, I’m nae mad,” he protests, letting go of her waist to cup her cheeks, dropping a soft kiss on her parted lips. “How could I be mad at ye? My perfect, perfect girl. You’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

“I don’t get it. You should be mad at me, I—” Again she cringes and his heart hurts. His poor girl. “I…I just…I feel like I cheated on you.”

“Ye dinnae do anythin’ like that, baby,” Johnny tuts, dropping another kiss on her lips. 

Comforting his miserable girl is a treat that he didn’t even realize he was missing out on. It almost makes him feel bad for withholding the truth that would actually comfort her. If she knew what he’d gotten up to with Ghost on the gym mats the night before, she wouldn’t be making herself sick at the thought of betraying him. That time has long come and gone. They’re both under new ownership, new rules. 

She follows him back inside because she’s a good girl. Always has been. The past week has been a challenge, sure, but nothing insurmountable. Nothing that could ever really come between them. Not that he’d let it. 

Besides, all it tells Johnny is that their relationship is built on a solid foundation. Strong as bedrock. 

He guides her back in with a hand on her back. She still seems dazed when she’s back sitting between the two of them, Ghost now barricading the other side of the booth. His lieutenant barely looks fazed at the sight of the tear tracks running down her cheeks or the slight wobble of her bottom lip. 

“Thought you weren’t coming back,” Ghost says, his tone ambiguous. It’s anyone’s guess if he means it or not. Johnny’s hard pressed to believe it though. Something about the dull amusement glinting in the dark of his eyes contradicts his words. 

“We jus’ had a wee chat outside,” Johnny says, speaking for both of them. 

“All good?” 

“We sorted it out.”

Johnny knows that Ghost sees something else when he glances over their girl. She looks lost between them. Out of sorts. 

“You still upset, doll?” Ghost asks her, prodding more than comforting. 

Her bottom lip trembles. “…Yes.”

“Spit it out then. All that stress ain’t good for ya.”

The look she tosses him out of the corner of her eye is dark. “Everything about this is just so fucked up.”

“Why do ye keep thinkin’ this is bad?” Johnny asks. He drags his nose down the side of her throat while he speaks, gorging himself on the perfume of her skin. Her natural scent is pungent with anxious sweat, a sharp, acrid note that he aches to lick off.

“Because it’s not normal—I didn’t go into this thinking that—” She stiffens when Johnny dips his tongue into her collarbone to lap at the salty skin there “—Johnny, knock it off. We’re in public!”

“So what?” he murmurs, licking the same spot again, the flat of his tongue running over her skin and leaving a wet trail up the side of her neck.

Around them, the lights flicker as people walk from the bar back to their tables, shadows dragging across the floor and over the walls. A server passes by with a round of beer for a nearby table. 

“Where does this even go?” his pretty girl croaks, tears brimming in her eyes again. “What happens after this?”

Johnny glances up at Ghost almost instinctively, looking for something. Reassurance; an answer. Even he’s not clear on what exactly he needs from the man—just that it’s important. Just that it’s the only thing that matters. 

“The same thing as always, hen; nothing has to change. Just have to think a bit bigger.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

The look Johnny gives her is pitying. 

“Ain’t that kind of situation, doll,” Ghost grunts. 

A tear spills over her waterline and down her cheek. Johnny barely restrains himself from leaning over and licking it up. 

Getting her back home without a fuss is nothing short of a miracle. Johnny keeps an arm around her waist the entire walk back just in case though, Ghost at their rear following them from just a few steps behind. No chance of her slipping off without one of them catching her.

Part of him feels for the poor bird. She never would’ve chosen this for herself—two brutes following her home, intent on keeping her. But the heart wants what the heart wants. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to give her the option to leave. 

It’s not like he knows what he’s doing either. Life was simpler before he had Ghost’s voice in his ear. Back when it was just his own voice in his head.

But the bird has never had just him, has she? They’re always been a package deal, him and Ghost. One and the same. Ghost’s voice in his head telling him where to go. She’d know if she could crack open his head and look inside; root around until she found the bit of Ghost lodged in him like shrapnel in a wound. 

Sometimes he wonders at his luck in picking the right people to call his own. The wrong person might have taken advantage of his nature.

She sniffs, resigned to her fate when Ghost opens the door to her flat, her key somehow already in his hand. Must have swiped it at one point during the night. Still, she follows him inside without remarking on it. 

“Would you like coffee?” she asks sardonically, her tone belied by the way her hands shake when she hangs up her sweater. 

“Dinnae bother, hen,” Johnny says, almost pityingly. 

They both know what’s coming. What’s just around the corner, waiting for them to drop the ruse. Ghost stands in the hall like a spectre, staring down their girl with an intensity that doesn’t waver even when his gaze shifts to Johnny. He’s always looking down at them. 

Johnny preens under his gaze. It’s nice being wanted. More than nice—it’s an imperative. The thought of losing Ghost’s attention leaves him cold, an ache deep in his core, like a cancer spreading from organ to bone.  

Breathe in and out.

This time when he tugs her in by her waist, she goes limp, stumbling into him, hands splayed on his chest and her chin already tilted up. 

Johnny gets lost in the kiss, his lips sliding slick over hers, tongue licking into her mouth. Her taste is familiar, but it’s different this time somehow. Heightened. Creamier, sweeter. She whimpers into his mouth when he squeezes her closer, her breasts squished against his chest. Tits so soft that he salivates thinking about popping her nipples into his mouth. 

His hands run up and down her back, groping her hips and waist and the underside of her butt, squeezing her cheeks until she squeaks and tries to pull away from him. 

“Wanna wrestle? Is that it?” he purrs, strands of saliva stretching between their lips when he breaks the kiss. 

“Johnny—” she gasps, twisting her face away to breathe only for him to chase after her, hand sliding up her back to grip her by the neck. 

There’s no plan for how this should go, but when Ghost grabs a handful of her shirt and rips her from Johnny’s arms, he knows his turn is up. The shock of feeling her ripped away almost sends him spiralling, teeth already bared. Animalistic rage washes over him. That’s his girl, the one he hunted down to exhaustion and dragged home. 

“Stand down,” Ghost snarls when he takes a step forward. His instinct is to charge, overwhelm the man circling wide, rough hands around his girl’s arms and tugging her close. 

The sound of Ghost’s voice stops him in his tracks. Keeps him from taking another step closer. He shakes off the anger, the red rage seeping from his vision. 

“Aye, sir,” he croaks. When he swallows, it’s thick. Viscous. 

Watching someone else strip and take his girlfriend apart fills him with equal parts nausea and delirium. Johnny follows the two of them into the living room on shaky legs, bracing his hand against the doorframe to keep from stumbling. Her shirt comes off first. Ghost 

It’s not like the thought never occurred to him. Ghost even told him earlier about their romp in the van. It’s the seeing that’s pain inducing. World changing. His reality collapses around the notion that he’s letting this happen again. That he’s encouraging it this time even. 

Saliva pools in his mouth when Ghost pulls the bird into his lap, forcing her to straddle him. With Ghost still fully clothed, the contrast between the two of them is stark. She trembles over his lap, naked. Vulnerable. Her knees have to spread so wide to touch the couch under him that her bare cunt is forced to grind against his jean-covered crotch. 

When she glances over her shoulder, looking to Johnny for reassurance, his heart almost breaks at the distressed look on her face. 

Viper-quick, Ghost grips her by the chin and turns her head to look at him instead. “Don’t look at him,” he murmurs, a soft command in his voice. “Eyes on me.”

She listens like a good girl, hands perched delicately on his shoulders. “But, I want Johnny—”

“You’ll get him later. S’not about him right now.”

Johnny’s head spins, dizzy with lust. He has to rub his hand overtop his jeans, palming the shaft straining against his zipper. 

The moment Ghost reels her in for a kiss, a big hand on the nape of her neck, and their lips slot against each other—the first time Johnny’s seen Ghost kiss someone with his own eyes, the first time he’s watched his girlfriend kiss another man, and not just any man, but his superior, the man he’d build an effigy to if it meant he got to keep him for the rest of the time—his vision doubles. 

Ghost kisses like a plundering, holding her in place while he takes what he wants. When she whimpers into his mouth, Johnny’s cock jumps. Broad hands hold her in place, one sliding down her back and curving over her ass until calloused fingers rub at the soft folds between her legs, one finger to stretch and two to make her whine. 

“Get over here, pup.”

He almost doesn’t hear the command at first, his attention wholly fixated on the way Ghost’s fingers piston into his girl’s pussy, the veins in his hand flexed and protruding. 

“Johnny.” He hears it the second time, head snapping up to find Ghost staring him down. “Come here.”

The moment he lets go of the wall, his knees buckle, sending him to the ground. He crawls the rest of the way over, half-delirious. The coffee table is pushed unceremoniously out of the way, books tumbling onto the floor. She squawks in protest; says something about scratching the floor, but then Ghost pulls out his fingers to give her pussy a sharp slap and her eyes roll back in her head, the words knocked clean out of her. 

“What do I…” Johnny asks, trailing off when Ghost’s fingers slip back into his girl’s pretty, stretched hole. 

His mouth waters at the sight. 

He wets his lips when Ghost spreads his legs, forcing the bird’s legs to spread wider as well, ignoring the way she whines at the stretch. The thick fingers spearing her open pull out, dew-coated and glistening. His groan is guttural when Ghost’s fingers drag from her hole to her clit, stroking her back and forth before 

“Put that mouth to good use,” he orders, spreading her lips with his fingers and framing her hole. 

It wouldn’t be more inviting if she hung mistletoe over it. He goes willingly, crawling forward until he’s between Ghost’s legs, his nose almost grazing her pussy, eyes locked on the wet hole between her legs and the tight rosebud winking at him from just a bit higher. The most gorgeous sight in the world. Men have fought and died for less. 

Despite the fact that this is his girl, there’s something sacred in being chosen by Ghost. Being given the honour of eating his girlfriend out. He’s always enjoyed the thrill of being Ghost’s chosen favourite. Unspoken, maybe, but undeniable. They orbit each other like binary stars. 

It's a bit different when his lieutenant is holding his head down into his girlfriend’s pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit. Ghost’s hand like a brand on the back of his neck, tears building in the corners of his eyes because it’s too much, too much, too much. 

“There, bird,” Ghost murmurs, stroking a hand up her back. It barely settles her. “Ain’t that better? Still gonna cry when you’re getting your cunt licked?”

She does cry too. Big, fat tears that Ghost licks up when they dribble down her cheeks. Johnny barely registers it though, face buried in her cunt, tongue shoved in her hole and dredging out every drop of slick. 

It ends too soon for him. A hundred hours would be too soon for him though. Ghost fists the back of his mohawk and tugs him away from her drooling cunt, nearly ripping out his hair when Johnny resists, trying to chase after her pussy. 

“Simon—” he gasps, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Fuck. That desperate, pup?” Ghost sneers. 

“Please, Lt,” Johnny pleads, licking her essence off his lips. “Jus’ gimme five more minutes. Ah need it—look at her—”

“Johnny,” his girl begs, thrusting her cunt back towards Johnny’s face. Ghost grabs a handful of her ass to hold her still, chiding her when she whines.

“Desperate fuckin’ slags,” he sighs, beleaguered. Long suffering. Like no one in the world has had to endure the hardships he’s faced. 

The next few minutes disappear into a blur of clothes tugged off and thrown across the room, Ghost dragging the two of them into the bird’s bedroom. Her little bed hardly seems big enough for two grown men, but there are no other options and Johnny’s hardly solution oriented at the moment. 

He hasn’t had enough time to think about what it might be like. For all of the assumptions that could be made about his sexual proclivities, he’s kept a few things close to his chest. Never shared a girl before, no matter how many times the thought has crossed his mind. It’s a desire he’s kept at a distance, only looked at from afar. 

The reality is so much worse.

Worse because Ghost’s hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse because it’s so much better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

Ghost positions Johnny over her, big hands on his hips and Johnny has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube is drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head is spinning, staring down into his girlfriend’s eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to soothe her, coo down at her that he’s got her and everything’s going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and Johnny’s vision goes white.

He loses himself in those first few moments. The girl beneath him vanishes. She’s just a warm, wet hole for him to fuck, to relieve himself from the pressure of the cock seated in his ass. 

The blunt intrusion has him gasping for air. It’s beyond the pale; a sensation beyond whatever he might’ve imagined in the past. He’s thought about it once or twice—never with enough detail to guess how it might feel to have a man fuck him, but enough to think that he might like it. 

He never could’ve anticipated just how much. 

It’s sublime. White hot; scorching. Any lingering pain dissipates, chased away by the blinding pleasure of the cunt wrapped around his cock. Hot and tight and dripping wet. When she clenches around his dick, Johnny’s mind shatters. Fragments into a million pieces. He’s held in place by the rough hands on his hips, the nails dug into his back. A man’s lips on the back of his neck press a kiss into the sweat-coated skin, sweeter and softer than he deserves. 

“Fuck,” he gasps into a sweaty neck, eyes squeezing shut. 

Don’t get all quiet on me now, Johnny hears from behind him, Mancunian accent slipping into his ear. Some of the words disintegrate before reaching his ear. Too far away. 

The massive weight of Ghost at his back acts as a lodestone. A star guiding him home. A voice in his ear growling about how tight he is, how good his hole feels around Ghost’s shaft. His perfect pup and bird. 

Tell me I’m good enough for you, tell me I’m good, I’m good. 

Gentleness is a luxury he isn’t granted. When Ghost draws his hips back, he expects a moment of reprieve, a moment to catch his breath. Then he snaps his hips forward again, hurtling Johnny up the mattress, the bird smothered under him. 

“Simon—fer fuck’s sake!”

Underneath him, his girl keens, stuffing her own fingers in her mouth to muffle her screams. 

He grunts out a curse when Ghost batters into him harder than before, his hole burning from the stretch of taking Ghost’s cock. Hung like a bloody horse. The hands on his hips shackle him in place. He couldn’t wiggle out if he tried.

It’s all too good, too much. Staggered breaths, black spots on the edge of his vision. Hips pumping mindlessly, rhythm dictated by Ghost’s pace. Better than anyone or anything that’s ever come before. 

“Good fuckin’ boy,” Ghost growls at his back, voice pitched low. “Better like this, ain’t it?”

Johnny chases after his release like it might get away from him, pounding into the plush cunt beneath him with a mindless fervour. Her little yips are music to his ears. 

“Sir, please—” he gasps, feverish, his drool pooling in the divot beside the bird’s neck. “I need ta—lemme come, sir, please—”

His mind is emptied out, full of cotton and dreamy thoughts of pussy and cock. Her wet hole squelches with every thrust, creamy soft around him. 

He yelps when a big hand is shoved between his legs, fingers circling the base of his cock squeezing. 

“Gotta earn it, boy,” Ghost pants, a harsh laugh to his voice. “Haven’t heard the bird come yet.”

Her eyes widen, the space between her brows pinched. 

“I got ‘er,” Johnny slurs. His eyes go half-lidded. “Ah’ll make ‘er come.”

Johnny’s hands grope all over her face, squishing and pinching her cheeks. Brushing her hair out of the way. Wiping away stray tears and licking them off his fingers. Feeding her his tongue. 

It’s a shame no one else will ever be able to see his pretty girl this way, eyes glossy and mouth hung loose, her perfect pussy stretched open on a big cock. But he’d kill anyone other than the man bruising his hips for seeing her like this. Even the thought makes violence fester in his belly. Images flash across his mind: gouging out their eyes with his thumbs, tearing their throats out with his teeth. 

Her teeth clack together with each thrust, jolting him back into the real world. 

“J-Johnny—” she gasps, on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“Shh—yer a’right,” he shushes her, dragging a hand down her face. 

He can feel it in his loins, balls tightening. Stomach clenching. He needs her there with him though, dangling over the edge of release. A thumb on her clit has her in near hysterics, on the verge of hyperventilating. Chest arched, beaded nipples hoisted high enough for Johnny to dip his head and suck them into his mouth, one after the other. Then chewed and licked and bitten for his pleasure.

“Nono, it’s too—hng, shit, ohohoh—h-hard, Johnny—”

He runs his tongue up the crevice between her tits, sucking on the delicate patch of skin at the base of her throat. 

“Squeezin’ me sooo fuckin’ tight, hen—shitshitshit. Ye gonna come?” Johnny asks, pinching the little bud between her legs until she squeals and clenches around him. His words are slurred, whole body on fire. 

“No—no—I’m not—”

“Don’ hold it back—c’mon, gimme it.” His lips split open, feral, a snarl revving deep in his throat, teeth bare like an animal. “I wan’ it, I wan’ it, I wan’ it—”

When Ghost’s fingers loosen around his cock, Johnny comes harder than he ever has in his life. It knocks the wind out of him. Submerges him in dark water, choking him. Electric pulses up his spine and down to even the backs of his knees, his whole body electrified. 

And his pretty girl takes every hot rope of come spurting out of him. Lets him come deep in her slick hole. Legs spread wide for him, hips gyrating. Fuck, take it, hen, jus’ lemme—tha’s it, what a good fuckin’ girl. 

Johnny barely registers collapsing on her. He does register Ghost pulling out of him, his hole clenching around nothing. In another life, he might be grateful for the reprieve, but in this one he groans, mourning the absence. 

“Simon?” he mumbles into the bird’s tits, his words almost smothered.

A hand cards through his hair. “Down, boy. Need to clean up.”

Ghost leaves them there, tangled in the sheets, Johnny’s hips still flexing in half-hearted thrusts, chasing the last of his orgasm. Only when his cock is too sensitive to keep in her does Johnny pull out, flopping onto the bed beside her. 

Johnny hears Ghost turn the tap, water running into the sink. The going-ons in the bathroom are beyond his purview though, too fucked out to pay attention. His body throbs with a deep ache. Tomorrow he’ll be sorer than sore, no use to anyone. 

When he hears the water turn off, his eyes crack open, flicking over to the man walking out of the bathroom, his bare cock swaying between his legs.

His cock is an ugly, brutish thing. Thick at the base with prominent veins running up the underside. Johnny’s mouth waters. Part of him can’t quite believe he took a cock of that size, his first ever. His first. The longer he stares, the deeper that thought penetrates. That dick took the only virginity he had left. The big, angry thing dangling between Ghost’s legs, flushed red and uncircumcised, the skin around the head pulled back. 

Ghost comes over to the bed only to grab their girl by the ankle, tugging her towards the edge of the bed. 

“S-Simon?” she stutters, eyes wide and concerned. Ghost ignores her panic, climbing over her prone form. 

“What’re ye doin’?” Johnny mumbles, twisting over onto his side. 

“Had your fun,” he grunts, spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate him, unmindful of the way she gasps and tries to squirm away. “Now’s my turn.”

“Oh god—” she whimpers, already shaking, a nervous sweat building over her brow. 

Ghost heaves her legs over his shoulders, nearly folding her in half, before driving into her with the single-minded intensity of a rutting bull. Their poor girl hangs on for dear life, hands clenched in the pillowcase. The tattooed arm braced beside her head bulges with every thrust, the muscles bunching with the effort to hold himself up. 

He’d feel worse for her if he had any energy left in his bones. 

“Fuckin’ ‘er like a stallion, Lt,” Johnny murmurs, lips forming a loose smirk. Teasing now that he’s not on the receiving end. 

Ghost ignores him, too intent on chasing his own release. 

It doesn’t take long for Ghost to come, pounding her sore cunt with deep, powerful strokes until a groan rumbles out of him. The base of his cock is frothy with their mixed release, Johnny’s come slicking his way. Johnny can’t see much from his vantage point on the bed—can’t see the way Ghost’s ass flexes with every thrust or the way his balls tighten up right before emptying out into her waiting cunt—but he recognizes the telltale signs: the deep plunges, the loss of rhythm, Ghost’s flared nostrils and pinched brow. 

The bird pants under him, on the verge of hyperventilating. She doesn’t so much as twitch when he pulls himself off her, legs akimbo. Ghost’s softening cock rests against his thigh still drenched in her juices. Distantly, like a thought cast off into orbit, Johnny wonders what Ghost’s cock would taste like if he were to slide it down his throat now. 

His heart goes firehot when Ghost rearranges the two of them so that he sits against the wall with the bird between his legs, her knees hooked over his, drenched pussy open for his gaze. Ardour moves through his sluggishly, energy renewed. Reinvigorated. Ley lines crossed through him, trenches scored through the muscle and meat.

Ghost hooks an arm across her chest to hold her in place, anticipating her instinctive attempt to squirm away. Her blown out pupils speak for themselves. 

“What’re you still doing over there?” Ghost grumbles, spreading her folds wide with two fingers. “Get over here and clean her up.”

Like a dog on a leash, he goes, a thick finger tugging him by the collar.

[meanbossart]

I’ll ask what everyone (me) has been thinking, how would a Bhaal-sworn DU Drow react to a Corellon blessed Astarion with his continuing the lineage mindset/breeding kink thing?

And how would a Bhaalist DU Drow act with a pregnant Astarion? (+ Sceleritas because we need more about that guy :0)

You guys want to get this vampire pregnant so bad in the Bhaalist AU, what happened to the good ol' blood sacrifice/nut based wizardry/demonic flesh alchemy days? 😔

Alas! Astarion can't reproduce biologically due to being undead, regardless of sex. Corellon's blessing facilitates the fantasy for sure, so it might spice up the bedroom life for at least a couple of weeks - but DU drow isn't full-on delusional, he knows that it doesn't change anything in practice.

...Well, I guess it would give him reason to pursue a cure for Astarion's vampirism in this AU (something he otherwise would be uninterested in), since him having the ability to conceive would at least streamline the process a little bit. But I don't know if that would be any easier than pursuing alternate ways to breed more Bhaalspawn together, and more importantly, I don't think Astarion would agree to be cured once he realized what the goal is (not that DU drow would force him - I'm pretty over that type of evil - but it would then be a nuisance to avoid that outcome).

Either way, Bhaalist DU drow wouldn't act so differently to a pregnant partner in comparison to his "default" iteration:

The above, but unlike the canon interpretation, he can't be reasoned or talked out of keeping you under lock and key "for your own safety".

And Sceleritas of course would operate as a good little henchman and rat you out were you to ever wander too far or express discontentment about your circumstances - a constant companion whenever DU drow can't be present. He would service his master's breeding mate exactly as instructed, but, in reality, I think he would really resent them for getting so much of the focus and so much lenience - not out of jealously, but due to the impracticality of it. Sceleritas would have probably preferred DU drow take several fertile concubines if he must be distracted by such things, rather than putting so much time and energy into one maybe-baby. Because of that, he would probably always seem a little... Passive aggressive about the whole arrangement, especially in front of the partner. To DU drow, the best he could do was to try and gently suggest alternatives to the pursuit, but once he realized it fell completely on deaf ears he would just feign excitement about the whole thing to keep his master on his side (and trusting him, if opportunity were to ever rise to set him against his own partner.)

[gigiii1sblog]

DORM-ROOM DEVIL 009

Warnings: mature content, fluff, sexual content, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sexual content.

Chapter Nine: The 8 letters we didn’t say.

Y/N POV :

The sun came in way too bright for the amount of sleep I didn’t get. I didn’t move much, didn’t check my phone. I just laid there, wondering how we went from sharing blunts and secrets to pretending like we never touched.

My door stayed shut.

So did his.

But I heard him moving. Heard his keys. His shoes.

I knew he was about to leave.

And I hated that I still hoped he’d knock.

Just once.

CHRIS POV:

I stood in front of her door, hand raised. Hovering. Not knocking.

Just breathing.

That night played in my head on repeat. The sound of her voice when she moaned my name. The way she looked up at me like I was something real. Like I was someone she could trust.

And I trashed it.

On purpose.

Because I don’t know how to keep something good when I’ve never had it last.

I let my hand fall back to my side and walked out.

Because it’s easier to be the one who leaves than to be the one who stays and fucks it all up again.

Y/N’s POV: The Next Week

It had been a week.

Seven full days of silence. No texts. No knocks on my door.

Just me pretending I didn’t care, and Chris pretending I didn’t exist.

But now, I could feel him the second I walked into the party.

It was like his energy hit me first. Like my body knew he was there before my eyes even found him.

And when they did?

It hurt.

He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, beer in hand, hat turned backward, laughing too loud at something a girl was saying. Her hand was touching his arm.

I looked away before I could register anything else.

Matt handed me a drink. “You good?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Great, actually.”

I wasn’t.

Not when I caught Chris glance in my direction a minute later.

Not when our eyes locked for that split second and everything we hadn’t said sat in the space between us like a lit fuse.

I turned back toward the kitchen, pretending I hadn’t felt that spark crawl down my spine.

I wasn’t going to break tonight.

Not for him.

Not again.

CHRIS POV:

She was here.

I felt it in my chest first, this weird pull that twisted like a knife under my ribs.

Then I saw her.

Tight black dress. Lips glossed. Hair like she’d spent an hour making it look like she didn’t care. She looked… dangerous. Like temptation wrapped in heartbreak.

And fuck me, I missed her.

It was the first time I’d seen her since that night. Since I’d said the thing I didn’t mean and let her hear the thing I didn’t do.

And even now, after all of it, every part of me still wanted to walk across that room and ruin her all over again.

But I didn’t move.

I watched her fake a laugh at something Matt said. I watched her avoid looking at me even when she knew I was watching.

And it fucking killed me.

Because I’d never wanted anyone like this.

Never hated myself more for how I handled it.

Y/N POV:

The party had started to slow. Bodies were tucked into corners, the music dipped lower, and everything felt a little too warm and too loud.

But my chest was hollow. That kind of ache you can’t drink away.

Chris eyes haven’t left me. So, I decided to fuck with him.

Just a little.

Matt was Chris’s older twin by 45 seconds and it showed in the way he carried himself, a little quieter, a little softer, but just as handsome. The resemblance was brutal.

He was sitting on the arm of the couch when I slid in next to him. My hand on his thigh. My head on his shoulder.

“You’re cuter than Chris anyway,” I whispered, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

Matt shifted, blinking.

“Y/N…”

His voice was wary. Not judgmental, just careful. Because Matt was kind. Too kind.

But I didn’t stop. I traced the edge of his sleeve.

“I mean, you’d never say something didn’t mean anything the next day, right?” I giggled bitterly, drinking from my cup. Just drunk enough to mean it.

Matt didn’t answer.

Because that wasn’t fair.

To him. Or to me.

But it was already too late.

I didn’t even have to look to know Chris was watching.

CHRIS POV:

It was like getting punched in the ribs.

I stood at the edge of the room, drink forgotten, watching her with Matt. My brother. My blood.

The way she touched him, the way she leaned in like she wasn’t deliberately carving out a place to hurt me, it made my vision blur.

I knew she was doing it on purpose.

But it still worked.

My jaw locked. My fists clenched.

Because yeah, I’d walked away. Yeah, I said the thing I knew would push her off the edge. I told myself I didn’t care.

But watching her touch Matt?

That shit cut bone-deep.

⸻

MATT’S POV:

“You’re playing with fire,” I said under my breath, shifting slightly, careful not to lean into her.

Y/N’s smile was sharp. “Let it burn.”

And I knew this wasn’t about me.

This was about Chris.

And the wreckage they made every time they touched eachother.

Y/N POV: 1:26 AM

I slammed the door behind me, locking it, needing just a second to breathe. Just a second away from the noise, from the heat, from the wreckage I’d lit myself on fire with.

The moment I turned to the mirror, I didn’t recognize my own reflection.

Drunk. Smudged lipstick. Tired eyes that didn’t know if they were angry or broken.

And then—

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The door rattled like it would come off its hinges.

“Y/N. Open the damn door.”

Chris.

I stood frozen. My heartbeat caught somewhere between thrill and dread.

Another knock. Harder this time.

“Open the fucking door, or I swear—”

Click.

I opened it.

And there he was, filling the frame in all black. Backwards hat. Jaw tight. Eyes wild.

He barged in before I could say anything, slamming the door shut behind him. The lock clicked again. But this time, he was on the inside.

“What the fuck was that?”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Matt.”

His voice was low. Like he was holding something back.

“You think that shit’s funny?”

I crossed my arms, pretending I wasn’t flinching under his gaze.

“ You made it clear it didn’t mean anything. I’m just following our agreement.”

Chris laughed. Sharp. Bitter.

He stepped closer.

“Right. So now you’re gonna fuck your way through my family?”

“We were sitting next to each other.” I shoved him lightly. “Calm the fuck down.”

“No. No, because here’s the thing,” he hissed, voice rising.

“I understand I’m not your boyfriend, alright? I get it. You’ve said it. But having me fuck you, having my hands all over you.. my mouth on you.. and then touching my brother?”

His words hit like a slap.

I didn’t speak. My breath caught in my throat.

Chris’s chest was heaving now. His eyes never left mine.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” he whispered, stepping in close, too close.

“You wanted to hurt me. You wanted me to fucking feel it.”

My silence was confirmation.

He swallowed hard. Like it physically hurt to speak the next words.

“Well, congratu-fucking-lations. You win.”

He turned like he might walk out again—but paused, knuckles curling around the edge of the sink like it was the only thing grounding him.

“You want the truth?” he said quietly, without looking at me.

“I can’t fucking stand seeing you with anyone else. Not even my brother. It makes me wanna lose my goddamn mind.”

“Then why did you walk away from me, Chris?”

He turned around. Eyes locked on mine.

“Because I don’t know how to do this without ruining you.”

For a second, everything stopped.

The party. The noise. The pain.

It was just us. And the thing we kept pretending wasn’t there.

He stepped forward slowly.

Hands on either side of my face. Breath brushing my cheek.

“Tell me not to kiss you and I won’t.”

I didn’t say a word.

And then he kissed me.

Hard. Desperate. Like he hated himself for wanting it but needed it anyway.

The kiss should’ve felt like something.

It should’ve fixed it. He tasted the same, like weed, alcohol, and regret but it didn’t hit right anymore. Not when there was this heavy pressure on my chest like I couldn’t breathe through it.

I pulled back.

Fast. Like I’d been burned.

Chris froze, lips still parted, eyes half-lidded.

“Y/N…”

My eyes were already brimming. My voice cracked.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

His brows furrowed.

“I’m not trying to—”

“Yes, you are!”

I backed up, wiping at my cheeks even though the tears were coming faster now. “You come in, you kiss me like I’m everything to you, and then you leave. Or say it doesn’t matter. Or talk about head you got like I didn’t mean shit.”

He looked like I’d just hit him in the ribs.

And I wanted to feel bad. But I didn’t. I was too full of it, hurt, humiliation, love I didn’t ask for.

“You said it didn’t mean anything,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“I lied!”

My voice cracked open on the last word.

“I said it because I thought you didn’t care. Because if I told you the truth, and you didn’t feel the same, I— I wouldn’t survive it.”

Chris didn’t move. His throat worked as he swallowed.

His hands twitched like he didn’t know what to do with them, whether to pull me in or stay away.

“I’m in love with you,” I admitted, voice shaking.

“And I hate myself for it.”

Silence.

His chest rose. Fell.

And then, he stepped toward me again, slowly, like approaching a wounded animal.

“Don’t say that.”

His voice was hoarse.

“Don’t hate yourself for loving me. Hate me for not saying it back sooner.”

I blinked at him, stunned.

Chris lifted a shaky hand, thumb brushing my tear-streaked cheek.

“I’ve loved you since you rolled your eyes at me in that fucking dorm hallway a month ago,” he whispered.

“I just didn’t know what to do with it.”

“Then why’d you hurt me?”

His voice broke on the next words.

“Because I don’t think I know how to love someone without breaking them first.”

And just like that, the walls cracked again.

I pressed my forehead to his chest, fists balled against his shirt, and he held me, tight. His nose in my hair, arms around me like he thought if he let go, I’d disappear.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmured, over and over. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear to God, Y/N—none of them mean anything. I never wanted anyone else.”

“Then stop leaving.”

It came out as a plea.

He kissed the top of my head.

“I’m here.”

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44@emeraldsturns @sturnslux3 @kalel2005 @sarahsturns @teheabrams @needchrissturniolobad @julessspoetry @sturniszn @slutforchrissturniolo2 @alinagrace11 @beardedbernard @matthewswifeyy

[grandlinedreams]

Hii I just found out about your blog today! I really like your writing 🤭 Can I request a straw hat reader and law trying to keep their relationship a secret but they failed. Then the reaction from both crews! Thank you!

Hi bb!! Thank-you, I'm honored!! 🥺💖 but oh absolutely!! I hope this is to your liking, bb! (Ig this is a little non-canon? indeterminate setting)

Palm up, you stare at the little square of white that inches across your skin at a steady pace. There are limits to vivre cards, you know that ㅡ but you can't help but silently will everything involved to move faster.

"You're not sneaky, you know." You whirl, finding Nami leaning against the doorway with an amused look on her face, arms folded across her chest.

"I don't know what you mean," you say warily, mentally kicking yourself for pulling the paper out without making sure you wouldn't be spotted with it, even as your fingers close around it protectively.

Nami's head tilts. "That secret candy stash," she says, "you're not very good at hiding it. You're just lucky that Luffy hasn't figured out where to look yet."

"Oh," you answer, trying not to sound too relieved that she doesn't mean the vivre card you've been watching for the last ten minutes. "Right. I'll have to move it around, then."

Nami studies you silently for a moment in which you're almost certain she knows, but then she pulls from the doorway with a sigh. "We're supposed to be meeting up with the Heart Pirates, so you might want to come out and join us before Luffy figures that something is up."

"Right behind you," you answer, waiting until she turns to put the vivre card away and moving to follow. Outside, you're just in time to watch the swell of waves break, exposing gleaming yellow metal.

"There they are!" Luffy crows excitedly from where he's perched atop his usual seat, waving to the Polar Tang despite the fact that nobody can see him yet.

"Remind me why we're still letting them hang around?" Zoro asks and you turn towards him, though Robin answers for you.

"Because it's important to keep good relations with our allies." She glances towards you. "You agree, don't you?"

You swear there's something in her gaze, a glint of amusement that runs deeper than watching you fumble to agree.

"Whatever," huffs Zoro. "Still think that guy's full of himself."

You bite your tongue, waiting until you're certain you won't say something you regret. "Luffy is our Captain, Zoro. If he trusts them, then we should too."

You feel a lot more than trust towards Trafalgar Law. But though it's gotten easier to keep those feelings under lock and key, it's still hard to not want to bounce forward and fling your arms around him the way Luffy does.

"Traffy!! Good to see you!"

"I've told you to stop calling me that, Strawhat," Law grouses, struggling to free himself from the rubber man's grip. "And get off me!"

Luffy seems far from upset by Law's greeting, cheerful grin still wide and bright as he lets go to offer the same greeting to Bepo, just a few feet behind his Captain.

You pretend not to notice when Law glances at you, your own attention pointedly fixed on some obscure point until you can't feel the weight of his gaze anymore. Only then do you lett yourself look back at him, fingers twitching at the memory of his vivre card on your palm.

ㅡ

Luffy's plan for the ally rendezvous ends up being to anchor both the Sunny and the Polar Tang at the back coast of a nearby island with the intent to keep either crew from being spotted and recognized. (It's more Law's idea, but all he does is roll his eyes when Luffy repeats it with much more enthusiasm.)

After that it's a blur of cooking food in the kitchen, platters laden down with piles of food and lowered down onto the beach, where a bonfire (small and carefully contained) is going at Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's request.

"Is there a reason you're avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," you say from where you're picking up dry kindling for the bonfire. "Didn't we agree not to tell either of our crews we're together?"

"True," Law agrees as he approaches, "but I hardly think pretending that I don't exist at all is going to work either. They'll think you hate me."

"I think Zoro has that covered," you mumble. "But you know I don't hate you, Law."

"I do?" There's a hint of amusement in his tone, smirk tugging at his lips. He's teasing you, the jerk. "Could have fooled me."

You roll your eyes. "What if you're the one who hates me? Hm?"

He approaches, the height difference all the clearer for how he seems to tower over you, even as he leans down. "Hate is the furthest word from how I feel about you."

You've only shared a handful of kisses with Law and each time, you've been the one to initiate them. Perhaps a testament to how he's missed you, Law leans in, lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes close, and you're tempted to drop the bundle of wood in your hands in favor of curling them into his shirt ㅡ only to break apart at the same time as Law at the sound of your Captain's voice in tandem with Bepo's.

"Hey Traffy!! Where'd you go?"

"Captain? Captain!"

Law sighs. "So much for that," he says, pulling away from you completely and turning back in the direction that he'd come from. "Don't take too long coming back either, or they'll think you got eaten by a Sea King."

Watching his back, it's only then that you realize he's somehow eased the bundle of sticks from your grip and walked away with it ㅡ effectively leaving you with zero reason as to why you'd left in the first place.

"Jerk," you mutter, but you're smiling, bringing a hand up to trace your lips and the lingering warmth.

ㅡ

Sunset is a milky blend of reds and oranges, vibrant against the deep blue of the sea, inciting a deeper sense of contentment that makes you dig your feet into the sunwarmed sand.

"Comfortable?" Law seats himself beside you without preamble, the brush of his arm against yours intentional. You debate for a moment before you lean against him, gaze flicking upward to watch his lips curve into a softer smile when you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I am now," you mumble, let your eyes drift shut as you try to commit this to memory. "I wish we saw each other more."

There's a deeper meaning to it, a wholly selfish want for something more stable than what you have ㅡ going months at a time without sreing each other, vivre cards the only way of guaranteed safety. (It isn't safety, not really. Just the reassurance that the other is still alive.)

"I know." Law answers. "...every time I hear about whatever stunt you lot have pulled, I check your vivre card." Another deeper meaning, vulnerability where he usually can't afford it. "We could tell them, you know."

You snort. "Tell them what? 'Sorry, we've been dating behind your back for the last two years?'"

"You're dating Traffy?"

You feel Law tense under your head at Luffy's voice, and you turn to find him staring at the two of you.

Shit.

"Luffy, I, uhㅡ"

"Yes," Law cuts in, "we are." It startles you, how freely he's admitting to it now when he's the one who wanted to be so damn careful about it.

"Oh," Luffy says. And then he grins. "That's so cool! I mean, as long as you're not gonna steal [Name] and make them join you all the time."

You wonder if somewhere down the line, you've hit your head and entered a different dimension. Surely you have, for Law to be so blasé in admitting to your relationship and Luffy ㅡ well, that's on par for him.

Luffy takes it a step further, however, turning and cupping his hands around his mouth. "You guys!! Did you know Traffy and [Name] were dating?"

You flinch, Law's expression unreadable as there's an answering call ㅡ Shachi.

"No offense Captain, but we figured it out last year!"

"I thought they seemed awful chummy! Congrats, you two!" Nami.

And then Luffy is bounding off back to the others, and your shoulders slump. "Well, that was a lot of worry for nothing," you lament, though you reach for Law's hand, lacing your fingers before you stand, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, boyfriend. We have some explaining to do."

[yanpoetry]

Chapter 2: Part 8: Make Sure You're Ready for Long-Term Commitment

Before you take the plunge into bringing your Darling into your safe space, it’s vital to make sure you have everything in place for the long haul. This isn’t just about an impulsive moment of desire—it’s about a calculated, prepared approach to ensuring that both you and your Darling will be comfortable, secure, and undisturbed for as long as it takes to make them yours completely. Being unprepared will only lead to complications and might risk your plans falling apart before they even begin.

1. Have a Secure and Private Location

First and foremost, you need to ensure that you have a secure location where your Darling can be kept safely and out of sight. The room or space must be large enough for them to remain confined without causing suspicion, but also equipped to keep them comfortable, under control, and secure.

Key Considerations:

Space Size: The room needs to be large enough to house a bed, storage, and essential supplies. They need to have a place where they can sleep, eat, and remain in a controlled environment without too much freedom. Think about comfort but within limits.

Privacy: Ensure that the space is private and can’t easily be accessed by anyone else. The last thing you want is someone finding out that your Darling is locked away. Consider areas away from the public eye, whether it's an attic, basement, or secluded room in a house that isn't frequently used. If you have to, modify the space to make it secure.

Escape-Proofing: Reinforce the doors, windows, and any exit points. Use locks, chains, and other mechanisms that can keep your Darling contained, but also ensure that you have the keys or methods of opening them when needed.

2. Essential Supplies: Food, Drugs, and Equipment

Once the physical space is set up, you need to ensure that you have the necessary supplies to keep your Darling compliant and well-maintained. This involves both practical supplies like food and drugs, as well as comfort and control items that make the space functional for long-term confinement.

Food and Water:

You’ll need to stock up on food that your Darling can eat regularly without fuss. It’s not only about basic nutrition, but you want to make sure they’re comfortable in their environment, so familiar food items they enjoy can help maintain a sense of normalcy. Stock up on food that doesn't spoil quickly, such as canned items, dried foods, and anything that doesn't need constant refrigeration. Also, always have a backup of water to ensure hydration.

Drugs:

If you’ve decided to use drugs to keep them subdued or compliant, make sure you have an adequate supply. Whether you choose sedatives or other substances to make your Darling easier to manage, keep the supply discreet and hidden. You’ll need to monitor their intake and be strategic about how and when to use them to avoid them developing tolerance or resistance.

Comfort and Control Items:

Alongside food and drugs, there are other supplies that will be necessary for long-term care and control. Depending on how you wish to manage your Darling’s behavior, you may need the following:

Toys and Entertainment: These can help distract your Darling during their time in confinement, providing them with things to do. Books, games, or other items can make them feel less isolated.

Comfort Items: Bedding, pillows, and blankets are essential. A comfortable place to sleep will help them remain docile and compliant. Choose items that are simple but make the space feel less harsh for them.

Personal Hygiene Products: Make sure you have soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and other hygiene products on hand. You don’t want to risk your Darling getting sick or developing infections.

3. Money and Financial Considerations

When you take someone into your care, especially for the long term, it’s essential to consider the financial side of things. Keeping a Darling means you’ll need a steady stream of income to maintain the space, buy food, and acquire supplies as necessary.

Financial Preparation:

Consistent Income Source: Whether you have a job, savings, or other means of securing money, you need a reliable income stream to keep up with expenses. You’ll need to purchase supplies regularly and ensure the room remains secured and functional.

Budget for Needs: Set aside money for the essentials like food, medical supplies, and any special items you might need for control (e.g., restraints, tools, and anything for your Darling’s comfort).

Emergency Funds: Be prepared for unexpected expenses, like medical care if necessary or repairs to the room. Ensure you have a cushion to cover such events.

4. Equipment for Control and Restraint

If you're going to keep your Darling in a controlled, isolated environment, you’ll need proper equipment to maintain their captivity, both for their safety and yours. Control tools will help keep them secure and ensure they don't try to escape or act out.

Key Equipment to Have:

Restraints: Handcuffs, chains, or ropes to keep your Darling restrained when necessary. If they try to resist or act out, you need tools that will make them compliant quickly.

Beds and Comfortable Sleeping Arrangements: A secure bed that can keep them contained or easily accessible. A sturdy bed with fixed restraints might also be necessary.

Cages or Containment Areas: Depending on the space, a cage or contained area might be needed for times when you need them secured for longer periods without risk of them escaping or harming themselves. These areas should still be humane but restrictive.

Surveillance and Monitoring: Depending on the location, you may want to invest in security cameras, motion detectors, or alarms to keep track of your Darling’s activities within the space and ensure they’re not attempting to escape or cause trouble.

5. Psychological and Emotional Preparation

This isn’t just about having the physical tools and supplies; you must also be mentally prepared for the demands of keeping a Darling. The emotional strain of maintaining a controlled environment, especially in the early stages of captivity, can take its toll on both you and your Darling.

Emotional Control:

Patience: You will need to remain calm and patient as your Darling adjusts to their new life. They may resist, rebel, or act out, and you will need the emotional strength to deal with that.

Mindset: Understand that your Darling is someone you’ll be responsible for, and that can come with a lot of pressure. Keep your emotions in check and make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons (to claim them as your own).

6. Long-Term Sustainability

Think about the future. Are you prepared for this long-term commitment? It’s not a quick fix; this will require ongoing effort, care, and focus.

Key Long-Term Considerations:

Routine Maintenance: You’ll need to regularly assess and adjust your setup as your Darling gets used to the space. Will they start to push boundaries? Will you need to make changes to the room to prevent escape attempts?

Legal and Safety Risks: It’s important to keep in mind the risks involved in keeping someone in captivity. You need to remain aware of the legal consequences, and always ensure that you have a way to cover your tracks, should things escalate beyond your control.

Are You Truly Ready?

Taking on the responsibility of a Darling for the long term is no small task. You must be fully prepared, both physically and mentally, for the demands that come with it. The right space, the necessary supplies, and the financial resources are all key elements to your success. Only by ensuring you have everything in place will you be able to keep your Darling safe, under control, and with you for as long as necessary.

[midnightsun-if]

i am SO obsessed with Quinn, I can’t wait to meet them in game!!!! I was wondering how much control each of the shifters like what is the likelihood of each of them shifting accidentally out of emotion ( like Sloane in that one ask)

I’m so excited for you to meet them in game too! Especially since you’ll get the opportunity to interact with them while Blake can make comments in the background (like a tennis match). It’s something that’s been fun to go back to as I’m fleshing things out.

Koda: He has great control out of the shifters. Mainly because he’s a fairly laidback guy. Bear Shifters, unless actually threatened, tend to avoid conflict if it’s possible (as they don’t really want to deal with it). Koda is like that times 10– if he doesn’t have to cause a fight then he won’t. He’d much rather have everyone be happy and go their merry way.

Cyrus/Cyra: I’m including C because they can technically shift as well (although they’re not technically counted as a shifter). In extremely stressful situations, and I do mean extremely, you’ll see the signs of C beginning to shift: flames flickering on their fingers, their eyes beginning to flash more and more, some feathers potentially appearing along their arms or neck. Though they’d only fully shift if they needed a moment by themself and just needed to get away from everything.

Quinn: They have excellent control although their anger can get the best of them at times. It’s something they try to ignore, the complete opposite of Sloane, because of certain things they were exposed to growing up. Due to that Quinn tries to stay out of those types of situations wherein they could get explosively angry— as their wolf form is not something to mess with. Quinn, in most scenarios, even when it does come to mildly aggravating instances, is the epitome of a control. Exactly how they were trained but everyone has their breaking point.

Sloane: Anger doesn’t influence them like it does Quinn— it’s something they’ve come to know quite well, like an old friend. The only time they shift out of their own control is whenever their human side just shuts down and they need the reprieve that their wolf provides or whenever they’re heavily emotional (mainly when it involves sadness/grief) because it’s easier to process whenever they’re in their lupine form— it makes them not feel weak in the face of all the conflicting emotions.

When it comes to shifters it just truly depends on the circumstances involved— one situation could cause a huge reaction, probably because of other events that proceed it, and a similar one could cause no reaction; though there usually is a correlation to said episodes where they shift without wanting to. It’s their wolf protecting their human side or take the lead when they feel like the human side can’t continue forward.

Protecting their mate is one of those times when the wolf would more than likely take over or be at the very surface waiting to do so (if the shifter doesn’t keep it under lock and key).

[muertarte]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @amonstrousdream @muertarte

SUMMARY: Leila visits Metzli on a rainy day and the two enjoy a quiet afternoon in bed, making plans for the future.

WARNINGS: None

There was something entirely wonderful about having a housekey. 

Leila hadn’t realized how much a bit of metal attached to a keychain could mean. Hadn’t realized how much having a home meant. She had told herself for years that she didn’t need a house, didn’t need a home. Staying put was a risk she’d avoided taking, and there hadn’t been people she’d cared for to make anyplace a home. That life was lived sneaking into sleepy houses through keyholes to rest at the bedsides of dreamers, never turning a knob and finding comfort and companionship and rest on the other side of the door. Even her shop hadn’t been home, not really… She had told herself early on in her time in Wicked’s Rest that if the worst happened, if she needed to run away, she would simply leave the shop behind. But she hadn’t run. Hadn’t needed to. She’d found people- people like her, people who liked her (or even loved her), people she could help, people who became family. The key was a symbol: she was wanted, she was loved, even if it was hard for her to believe some days.

Since Christmas, all Leila wanted to do at the end of every day (and sometimes in the middle of the day, too) was to drive her puttering, ancient car from the shop in Deersprings all the way to Seven Peaks. To the Mansión Mexicana. To Metzli. That day, she’d given up just after noon. Dark clouds covered the sky, blotting out the little warmth of winter sunshine. But as she hopped up the front steps, she could see the glow of light inside the house, and that alone was enough to shake the chill from her ancient bones. 

She stood for a moment, soaking in the sight before turning her key in the lock and heading inside. “Metz?”  She shrugged off her coat, hanging it by the door before meandering down the hall. “You home?”

The days at MuertArte had gotten easier. Some days had no incident whatsoever, while others ended with burning skin and gritted teeth. Emotions were a tricky thing, Metzli had learned. They had dreamed of experiencing the spectrum of emotion in its entirety for decades, losing hope many times. Holding onto hope, however, they finally had the opportunity to learn what it truly meant to be a person. And it was all thanks to the people they loved and their work at spreading that hope they held for so long. Because hope wasn’t a fickle and delicate thing for Metzli. It wasn’t made of whispers or glass or a spider’s web that any one person could disrupt. 

Hope was the blood on their friend’s hands, the scars on their skin, and the grit of their master’s crypt in their hair. So, it made it feel that much worse to Metzli that they still hadn’t gotten a tight grasp on the control they’d been working on. There were still outbursts, moments of frustration, and countless hours of pacing that ended with a quiet suggestion from Rachel to go. Metzli hated it each time, growing distraught on the drive home before wiggling under their weighted blanket. They were supposed to be a good monster, a model citizen that understood themself enough to keep themself composed. 

As it turns out though, there was an entirely different spectrum Metzli had to understand first. They just didn’t know where on it they had landed, and their window to focus and discover that was slowly closing with the arrival of Leila. They smelled her before they heard her, even smiling wanly as they listened to her walk into the room. Her steps, as always, were light and hardly made a sound. It made it easy to confirm that the presence was definitely Leila. Smell or no smell, Metzli had grown accustomed to her. Her gait was telling enough. 

“Hm?” The vampire sat up slowly, allowing the blanket to drape off of them. “It is early. Did not have expectation for your arrival until a few more hours.” With a deep breath, Metzli shuffled their way to the edge of the bed, planting their elbows on their knees. “Did you close early?”

By the time she made it to their bedroom doorway, they were already shedding the comfort of the weighted blanket she’d made for them. The midnight blues and purples of the night sky above Champlain Falls were now strangely crumpled, as if the fabric sky had broken and folded in on itself. Guilt gnawed at her chest. Interruption. You interrupted. Leila swallowed the thought down, tucked it away to be dealt with later. 

“You don’t need to get up because of me,” She said softly in Spanish. Her new language skills had improved- partially out of spite for the silly green owl who used guilt as a means of persuasion, but mostly because of hope. Leila had held out hope when Metzli had left, even when she didn’t know if they would come back and still want her. She’d held out hope throughout the Jesus ordeal that yes, there would be a time for her to share a language with Metzli. And while there were still moments where she had to pause and think her way from Québécois French, to English, to Spanish, she had definitely gotten better. 

The mare lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame and letting it hold her up. They were right: she should not be home at that point. The shop had been deathly quiet, the sound of the flederprey in the rafters her only company. Usually, that wouldn’t bother her. It shouldn’t bother her- she’d lived in that sort of silence for centuries before Wicked’s Rest. But for weeks now silence only brought back thoughts of things that had not been dealt with. The presence of another was enough to stifle the things running rampant in her mind. Unfortunately, no one seemed to need a part-vintage-part-costume shop in the middle of the winter. 

“It was quiet, and I finished some alterations that were ordered, so I figured close up early… It looks like it’s going to pour, so maybe that’s what’s keeping everyone tucked away.” A guilty smile crept its way onto her face. “Sorry I interrupted your nap, M’amour.”

There was a soft quiet that always accompanied Leila. Ever since the night the two met. She rambled quite often, laughed frequently, and sang loudly. Sometimes not in tune. But that wasn’t the quiet that Metzli noticed and had grown to adore. The cacophony that stormed through their mind was what she silenced, or rather, oftentimes she replaced the noise with a buzz instead. She brought peace everywhere she went, regardless of the monster she believed herself to be. Maybe she created nightmares to survive, but she made dreams come true as she lived.

“I need to get up—” Metzli licked their lips and gnawed slightly at their bottom lip, rubbing at their face until they saw stars. They made a transition into Leila’s mother tongue, words shaky with a novice hold of the language. “You did not interrupt. I-I…” Failed at being a person again. Despite all of Leila’s help and hard work, Metzli had failed to truly get a good enough hold of her teachings to function like the people they watched. “Had mistakes at work.” They finally managed to say, reverting back to a language they both understood. 

Their eyes stung with tears of frustration, both for their inability to reciprocate the way Leila learned a new language for them, and their inadequacy for existence. Failure, it seemed, was Metzli’s path. That wasn’t what they pictured freedom being. There was supposed to be more success and blood as a treat. Definitely more giraffes, too. 

“Do you…want to join in the bed?” They swallowed and kept their eyes downcast as they blinked the leakage closed to look at their partner. Leila didn’t need to be a tissue, even if she never minded. She offered herself willingly to those she loved, and sometimes to those she didn’t know, too. Her heart bent and stretched toward anyone she could help. Having been covered in night her entire life, Leila desperately wanted to light matches for all, never allowing the fire to be extinguished. It was her nature, and it was everything Metzli loved about her. 

“Let me hold you.” They lifted the blanket, beckoning Leila to it. “Rainy times are better in a bed. With you.”

They were upset. She could hear it in their voice, even if they didn’t look up as they spoke. She was already starting to cross the divide from the doorframe to the edge of the bed as she listened to them switch from language to language. Leila couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have all emotions snatched away for years, only to have them all come back all at once. An avalanche of feeling. Too much all at once. 

Fingers brushed against their shoulder, feather-light, just enough to let them know that she was there. It seemed like work was the source of both of their problems that day. She wished she could make it better, somehow. Wished they didn’t beat themself up for learning how to be after a lifetime of hurt. She knew she couldn’t. All Leila could do was be there, offer her heart, a hand to hold, and all the support she could give. And pray that that was enough. 

“I think I need to join in the bed,” She admitted sheepishly. Bed, blankets, Metzli. When the mortal world was too much, when her own mind was too cruel a place, peace could always be found in those three things. After months of time without the vampire, between their own leaving and their being kept away by Jesus, her heart ached at the mere offer. It might not last… the words hissed in the back of her mind. This might not last, they might go again- everyone goes away, in the end… Leila willed the venomous voice to go away. 

She crawled under the blanket with them without another word. They were right, after all. Rainy days were always better spent in a bed together. Safe from the biting cold of the storm, safe from the dreary outside world. Just the two of them in their own little world. She pressed a quick kiss on the vampire’s shoulder before snuggling in beside them. Safe. Home. The two words repeated themselves over and over in her mind, willing the storm within to go away. 

From the beginning, the sensation of Leila’s skin had been warm. Not just because they were both the same temperature, but because her heart radiated like the sun. Metzli could recall the moment they first touched her, enamored with the loneliness trapped behind her eyes. She had told them they had found her that day, not knowing whether or not Metzli would visit her store. Of course they had, they thought. They had been so determined to visit the shop, awkwardly navigating the interaction and ultimately feeling like they had committed some atrocity when their fingers grazed Leila’s cheek for the first time. Much like the way she had just danced her fingers on their shoulder. Little did both of them know that they had both found something. A gift far greater than either one could have ever imagined. 

“I am happy you are visiting.” Metzli blinked, realizing they had grown silent for too long and wrapped Leila up with their arm. They relished in her warmth and tried not to grow too distracted by it. Again. “There is much pleasure now that troubles are less.” Now their world was about adjustment, slight outbursts, and business strategies. It was exhausting, sure, but Metzli far preferred those stressors than the idea of their life being ripped away by someone they called friend. What they had was much more manageable, even if it felt like it wasn’t most days. With time, as Leila reassured Metzli, they would grow accustomed to life as a person. They just wished they could speed it all up. Not at that moment, though. The vampire was enjoying the mare far too much. 

“You make a very good blanket. It is a favorite.” Sighing contentedly, Metzli bonked their head against Leila’s. Their legs wrapped into hers and they pulled her into them as much as they could, the contact never being close enough. If only they had their other arm, they thought. Leila deserved to be spoiled with some gentle caresses, and while their single arm was long enough to do so as it was wrapped around her, there was too much it couldn’t reach. “Maybe we stay here forever. It will stink after some days, but this can work, yes?” Metzli chuckled, hovering their lips over Leila’s. “Did I tell you yet that I am happy you are visiting?”

It never made sense how one person could make the maelstrom of her mind go quiet within moments. She didn’t know if Metzli knew they were even doing it. But Leila swore that every time she felt herself slipping away into her own head, all it took was a quiet moment with Metzli to bring her back to herself. The first time she’d noticed the phenomenon had been the day they’d been trapped by that cursed hat, when she’d nearly convinced herself that she had trapped two friends in limbo with no way out. 

She chuckled softly as they pulled her closer, bonking their head lightly against her own. “I will make you all the blankets you want… A blanket for every room, if you want it.” There was no world in which Leila would ever tire of being close to Metzli Bernal. She would have lived a million lifetimes over, she decided, if it meant she could always end up wrapped up in Metzli’s embrace, if it meant she could hold them close to her heart. Forever with them- no matter the place- sounded like a paradise. Forever with them meant she would always be home, no matter where in the world they wound up. Forever in the bed, well…

A grin slowly crept onto her face as her fingers toyed with a curl at the nape of their neck. Everything seemed so simple then. There was nothing else outside the room. No gray-cast skies that threatened rain. No work, with all its frustrations. Just the pair of them curled into one another under the blankets. It took every little bit of restraint to keep from pressing her lips to theirs. “I think you might’ve mentioned it…” She teased, brushing her nose against theirs. “Forever sounds good to me, though… We could figure it out.”

Metzli was captivated by the smile curling the corners of Leila’s lips, raising her cheeks into perfect arches. They closed their eyes with a sigh, relishing the moment of peace the two of them could finally have. It was all thanks to Leila’s determination, the love she spilled out into each pull of the flamethrower’s trigger. Gratitude didn’t even begin to cover what Metzli felt, especially when the outpour of love had so many sources. 

With a hum, they opened their eyes and maneuvered Leila into laying atop their chest. The added pressure nearly sent them rolling their wrists, but instead inspired a hidden smile that Leila would manage to find. “Forever.” Metzli parroted with an arch to their brow, an idea blooming slowly. The idea of eternity was only ever tied to mortality or a reign of terror. Never once did they stop to think of what new possibilities they had (and really, what the both of them had) now that they were free to explore all the things humans experienced. Things like pivotal stages of life. Things that Metzli, even as a human, got to have. The idea seemed so far-fetched before, and it still did then, but even so, they couldn’t help but grow hopeful with tears in their eyes.

“Forever.” They repeated once more, nearly allowing their mind to slip to their tongue. “We have this now, yes?” A trembled smile graced Metzli’s lips and they tilted their head in question. “We can do this. We have peace. We…” They trailed in their musings, unsure where they would be led. “We can be people. I-I want to be people with you.” A pause. A cautious one. “Everyday.” Another pause, and their brows scrunched together as they nodded and relaxed the tension a moment later. “Yes. Everyday.”

There had been a period of time where Leila had viewed immortality as a curse. Infinity stretched out before her, promising her nothing but a constant need to hide, to run. Immortality was a punishment, though she’d never figured out what her crime had been. But the mare had begun to wonder if fate had stuck its hand in the middle of her human life and meddled just enough that she might live to get to Wicked’s Rest. If there was such a thing as fate or destiny, then maybe Leila Beaulieu had needed to die in order to live. 

Pressed against Metzli’s chest, it seemed easy enough to believe. Factual, almost. Forever. Metzli was her echo, the word piercing the peaceful silence that had lulled over them like a blanket. She looked up through her lashes, trying to study every inch of their face to determine what was going on inside their mind. Forever meant something to people like them. Until the world caved in, until the stars fell out of the heavens, until the sun set in the east and rose in the west. She’d never thought to wonder if the vampire wanted forever. But there was a smile hiding on the corner of their mouth. Leila saw it, the upturn of their lips that most people would never find. It was a fragile thing, trembling as Metzli repeated the word once more. Forever. 

They had forever, if they wanted it. And Leila had never wanted anything more. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, turning Metzli into a colorful blur. She tried to blink them away, but the glittering things persisted, rolling down her face as she placed a kiss just over the vampire’s heart. “I want to be people with you, too…” 

The vampire swallowed, overcome with so many emotions they didn’t understand and couldn’t possibly manage without help. Leila’s kiss did wonders to quell the marching and biting ants all throughout Metzli’s skin, but it did little to stop their entire body from tensing. Taking a few deep breaths, just like Leila had taught them, Metzli let their muscles settle and felt themself sink pleasantly into the bed. The sheets were still cool and the softness was perfect enough to keep Metzli’s focus until the discomfort of existing in a prison of their own flesh, receded. 

It allowed for the idea to slip past their lips, as scary and new as it was. 

“We can find a good dress for you. And you can pick my suit.” A tingling in Metzli’s wrist soared, causing them to roll them furiously with glee. Maybe a little anxiety, too. “And rings. We need rings!” Was it too fast, though? They wondered, but only for a split second. Metzli had lived over a century, had seen the many faces of humanity and evil, and everything in between. Nothing and no one had quieted the cacophony of noise or lifted the weight quite like Leila. The choice was easy to make, if Metzli could even call it that. If they were alive, choosing Leila would be like breathing. Inherent and inevitable. Necessary and natural. 

Metzli smiled with a sigh, drumming their fingers excitedly on Leila’s arm. “And then forever, yes?” They knew the answer would be yes. It always had been, even in the beginning, but now Leila would be saying it for all the right reasons. She would no longer have to associate such a momentous occasion to a transaction for status and business. She would no longer have to be afraid. 

She would be loved. 

It took a moment for Metzli’s words to register in her mind. She’d settled back in to enjoy the nearness of them. Nowhere else in the world had that sort of peace. Leila could have traveled a million more years and would have never found a place that felt more like home than wrapped up in Metzli’s embrace. It felt like her thoughts were a few seconds behind, lazy with contentment. A dress for what? She had lots of dresses, made a lot of them, too…

And then, it clicked.

Leila looked up once more, surprise etching all of her features. Had she heard them right? Had they said rings? The only experience she’d ever had of a proposal had been fairly grim as modern standards were concerned. She’d been all but told she’d no choice in the matter all those years ago. And she’d been too scared and too weak to fight it… After so many years of being alone, some dark little corner of her soul had convinced herself that there would never be someone who wanted her- wanted her as she was, despite the flaws… maybe even because of them. Hope of a happy ending had been buried for so long, she had convinced herself she would never deserve it. Metzli had changed that all, even if they didn’t know it. They had brought color back into the mare’s world. Vibrant, rich, wonderful color. It wasn’t unending existence anymore. Not just shadows, not eternal night. They had brought her back to life, little by little. 

They chose her. And she would choose them, every time. 

She felt tingles running up her spine, up her arms with every little tap of the vampire’s fingers on her arm. Lightning-struck. Love-struck. Maybe they were the same thing. The corners of her eyes crinkled with joy as she leaned in to kiss them once, twice, almost a third before she remembered she’d not spoken an answer aloud. Her answer couldn’t solely live inside her head. Leila’s head felt fuzzy as she babbled out a reply, drunk with glee.

“Yes- then forever… now forever, but then forever, too-” 

Leila, always so happy to lay with her partner, didn’t seem to catch what exactly Metzli was saying. Not for a few moments. Thoughts of rejection nearly slipped into their mind, but they halted them just as quickly as they arrived. This was Leila they were talking to. A woman so unsure of herself, of her place in the world and everyone’s lives. A woman that put everyone above herself, and gave as much love as she took. There was always an imbalance, tilting away from her favor. Something she did on purpose so as to not make herself known, conforming to the shadows even before she began consuming in them. Metzli knew all of this, and waited in that split second, their smile growing when realization touched Leila’s eyes and her lips met theirs repeatedly. 

That was a yes, and she confirmed it hastily, to which Metzli had to reply in earnest. “Forever.” The golden word of the hour, a promise so heavy yet so wonderfully light to state, and they had declared it readily after having their worlds turned upside down and inside out respectively, for centuries. They’d even faced uncertainty head on, never doubting that their love would persist through the darkness. Because it was their home, and though they did welcome in the light, it came in waves, in the form of glittering skies that calmed the masses. That calmed them. 

“Te amo,” The vampire smiled tearfully, switching languages a little easier that time. “Je vous aime. Pour toujours.” Metzli had had forever since they were turned, but never did it feel so welcoming or easy, or exciting. With a happy chuckle and a gentle hand to their partner’s check, they closed the very short distance between theirs and Leila’s lips, binding their promise further. Sinking it so deeply in Leila’s skin that she could feel the golden warmth spread from themself to her, and so she couldn’t doubt her place in Metzli’s life. 

“Forever.”

She’d never thought someone would want her forever. Forever, as so many had mused, was an awfully long time. So much could happen in something so vast, so infinite. It was strange to think that someone would want to promise that to Leila. The mare had watched love from afar for so long, it felt like the sort of thing that only happened in story books. And she was the monster. The nightmare. The thing that ought not win in the end of the story, the one that never got a happy ending. Metzli saw her as something beautiful, though. Saw what she was, but saw who she was, too, and loved her for it all. The vampire took the love she gave them, and returned it back tenfold. 

They kissed her, and she knew that home was not a place. Home was not a room in a house, or the back of a shop. Home was wherever Metzli was. Home was in their kisses, in the way it felt to be in their presence, in the sound of their voice, in that secret smile, in every little inch of them. Once, so long ago she’d almost forgotten, she’d made a wish for that sort of love. Asked the moon in the sky, her constant companion for hundreds of years, to send her someone. It seemed to her that the wish had finally been granted. 

Forever was a long time, but she had wanted forever for this. And she would wait forever all over again, if it brought Leila back to Metzli. 

“Para siempre.”

[breannastewart]

Previous writer anon here- full disclosure that I write for woso, which I somewhat scales with wbb in terms of popularity but I think has, for whatever reasons, a more old school fandom than wbb. I'm old enough to remember when rpf was exclusively the domain of locked livejournal communities and imo that's the level of lock and key it should still be under, but that mentality seems to have been lost in recent years. I have google alerts for a certain player that I also write fic about, and I cringe every time this website shows up in the results. I personally know for a fact that a very popular women's hockey player had to explain to her father what fic was when it showed up in his google alerts for her. I don't entirely know where I'm going with this but hopefully at least a little reassurance that there are some reasonable, privacy-minded people involved in writing too. I do my best to encourage younger writers to stay away from tumblr, keep their fics locked, etc. I hope there's similar voices in wbb. No one should have to see fic if they don't want to - it SHOULD be something you have to actively look for to find, especially with this level of relatively minor celebrity.

Sorry you're dealing with an outbreak of this stuff in your fandom. :\

I like you, writer anon, and appreciate your insights so much. I followed woso for a bit and knew of it there too but always tried to avoid it, though I will say there was definitely more of a respect level as far as I remember. many of those people just put ao3 links. perhaps it does come with age of fandom, idk. there is FOR SURE an influx of really young fans for wbb all of a sudden so I do think that's contributing to the lack of mindfulness about how easily accessible content like that is when you, well, make it that way. but yikes 😬would definitely suck if these wbb players had to explain that to family members or partners because a lot of the ones being written about suddenly are actually all married/in relationships. definitely what I meant by these people don't realize those posts go right into google search links/alerts. and I do think a lot of them probably think deleting it will get rid of that entirely. but hopefully, if this is what's going to stick around now with the WNBA fandom in particular, more respect minded people end up being the norm. the W has always been a small universe in reality and I do think it's much easier for the possibility of it reaching the subject of the content because of that, whereas I think it can get drowned out easier, like say with tv and movie stars. but you're right, you should have to actively look for it if that's the fandom content you want, rather than it just being out there in the open for literally anyone to be able to see.

thank you again for your insights, and maybe there will be someone who sees it and it all moves in a more respectful way, we'll see. but it's okay! I felt worse for that other anon because clearly they have their reasons why content like that is unsettling, but I'll still be here chugging along providing the content I do lol. come say hi again anytime :) have a good one!

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 15: Under Lock And Key

''Now we all know how this will end, a minute late got you coming back again. There's secrets in these halls and mysteries that can't be solved. Final bow or final stand? Another encore is always in demand. This never ending game, you took the bait, now you got played. Now we all can't find a way to play this game. Is it all the same?''

– Count The Teeth by NateWantsToBattle (Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted)

xXxXxXx

''Hopefully nothing goes wrong this time,'' Sam said as she looked at the map of Ricky's that she printed out.

''I can already imagine what will go wrong,'' Springtrap replied, a little cynical. However, he was just as eager to find out what was in the hidden room as Sam was.

So far, they had agreed that they would visit the location once again after hours, figure out the animatronics' pattern and try to sneak past them into the room behind the stage. They both hoped that the animatronics wouldn't go there, even though Springtrap noted that the animatronics were changing their pattern according to what was going on at the moment.

''They will go after you and I believe that they might also go after me, if not even try and attack me. Still, I'll be in less danger than you,'' Springtrap said. Sam nodded, looking quite determined. She had already texted her mother that they would be at Ricky's, and Emma just replied for Sam to be careful and to not get injured again.

''I know that the last time we split up didn't end well, but the problem was that we didn't know anything about the animatronics' behavior. If I could get somehow into the security guard's office, I could keep an eye on them until we figure out how to get past them or shut them down,'' Sam said. ''I doubt that they'll be able to enter locked rooms.''

''I suppose you're right,'' Springtrap said, looking at the map that was on the table. ''It would've been much easier if they had a set pattern. I do wonder why they're avoiding the room behind the stage.''

''Maybe it's because the room isn't in their internal map, just like the situation with Freddy and the rest of the animatronics,'' Sam suggested.

''It is possible, but I'd like to know why they would be programmed to act that way,'' Springtrap said, glancing at the hallway behind them that led to the hidden safe room. ''We had a good reason to keep that room hidden, due to the spring lock accidents that would occur. I'd like to know Ricky's excuse for that.''

''I guess we won't know until we go there,'' Sam said, folding up the map and placing it into her bag.

''Honestly, I'd gladly take them apart, just to analyse their programming,'' Springtrap said, glancing at the stage. The two were at Freddy's, with the location still being unlocked and empty. ''I admit, I miss my old workshop.''

''You mean the one where you used to create killing machines?'' Sam asked dryly, with Springtrap wincing, giving her a nervous glance. ''I think you'll get your chance to tear apart the animatronics at Ricky's, but for now, we need to find our way into that hidden room. Something is inside it, and I am worried that someone might've taken it out since the last time we've been there.''

''If we're lucky, they haven't done that yet. I do believe that there is a switch that opens it, or at least some way to get inside. I know we couldn't find it the last time, but we were in a hurry,'' Springtrap said.

''Have we even checked behind the mirror?'' Sam asked, with Springtrap shaking his head. She then started pacing in front of the stage. ''I don't think many people would know about this hidden room, except for the most frequent users.'' She looked back at the bunny animatronic. ''What worries me is that Ricky's might've gotten a new security guard.''

''That's why I'm going inside first,'' Springtrap said. ''If there isn't anyone, we can proceed with our plan. We go in, see what's there and get out. It shouldn't be that hard.''

''Yeah, and after that, we need to figure out a plan for the Machinations Factory,'' Sam said. ''We're less familiar with it, but I think we can manage it. I'm confident that things will turn out well.''

''I hope you're right. We still need to find out who exactly is responsible for this. I am aware that the culprit might be Ricky's actor due to his access to the room behind the stage and the room with the costumes, but we have no idea who he is or what he wants,'' Springtrap said, his arms crossed. ''I'm curious about his connection with the animatronics. If he was the person we saw at the Machinations Factory, he might've been some kind of engineer, worked there or at least knew how to handle the animatronics.''

''You seem to be quite eager to find out more about those animatronics,'' Sam commented.

''Urban exploration is your thing, animatronics are mine,'' Springtrap replied. ''Although, combining both makes things a lot more interesting.''

''True,'' Sam said, then looked around. ''Honestly, I am curious what this place will look like once it opens up.''

''Probably less empty than it is now,'' Springtrap said sarcastically. Sam snorted, giving him an amused look.

The two then separated, walking around and looking at the place. They still had time until Ricky's would close, so waiting at Freddy's was their best option. While Sam wandered into the security guard's office, Springtrap entered what seemed to be some kind of storage room. There were dusty boxes inside it, and he decided to open one out of pure curiosity. It just contained party items and decorations. He guessed that the spare parts for the animatronics would arrive once whatever issue they had with the animatronics themselves was sorted out.

As he put the box back to its place, he heard a distinct metallic sound and looked down. His eyes, which were their usual silver and green, started glowing as he picked the object up. It was a pair of keys. He frowned.

''Just how incompetent can they be?'' he muttered. He walked out, encountering Sam, who seemed to be searching for him. ''I think I just found the reason why this place is unlocked.''

''They lost their keys?'' Sam rose an eyebrow, taking the keys from Springtrap. ''If they couldn't find them and knew that someone was killed, why didn't they take more security measures?''

''Search me,'' Springtrap said, shrugging. ''However, if that's what the new management is like, I can already see another catastrophe coming.''

''Do you want to say that you'd be better at managing this location?'' Sam asked, giving him a curious look.

''Sam, I've been a manager and CEO for a good part of my life,'' Springtrap replied. ''I know that I would do a better job than whoever was payed to take over this location.'' He then noticed Sam's smug expression and sighed. ''Yes, that also means that I would make sure to not be the one who caused another accident while working as a manager.'' He then went quiet as he thought about something. ''Speaking of accidents, I'm surprised that Emma even let you go.''

''Mum trusts me a lot and is quite sure that I would make the right decisions. Yes, it's probably a little unexpected, but she always knew what she was doing. I mean, this is not that different than from what I had been doing before I met you,'' Sam said, holding up her injured arm. ''Besides, I'm fairly certain that, when she told you to keep me safe, she actually meant that you don't let me get killed in some way. She already knows that, one way or another, I get myself somehow injured while I explore places.''

''Yeah, I figured that she meant that. She only went after me because she thought I hurt you,'' Springtrap said, frowning, with a look of guilt on his expression. ''Even if I didn't, I did prove that I'm a danger to you.''

He was a little confused when Sam gave him an irritated look.

''Springtrap, I know that you were suffering from a hallucination and that you weren't even aware of what you were doing. I know that you didn't want to hurt me,'' she said. ''If that weren't the case, what do you think why I would've gone after you?''

''Still, you shouldn't have…'' Springtrap looked in surprise at her as she cut him off.

''William, I am not giving up on you!'' Sam yelled at him. ''Seriously, I would've never forgiven you if had decided to refuse my help and just left.''

''Sam…'' Springtrap approached her, but she shook her head. She lowered her head, a look of guilt on her expression.

''I shouldn't have left you alone. I feel that what happened was actually my fault,'' Sam added. She was staring at the floor, wincing when she felt Springtrap placing his hand on her shoulder and looked up, noticing that he crouched down to be on her eye level.

''Sam, what happened wasn't your fault, but mine,'' Springtrap told her in a gentle tone. ''I was careless and I should've tried to fight back the hallucination instead of letting it overwhelm me. Also, I shouldn't have pushed you away.'' He sighed. ''I've been stressing over keeping you safe by trying to keep a distance and, ironically, that is what led to me accidentally hurting you. Just like…''

He closed his eyes. He had always been cold and distant towards his family, except for the rare moments when he actually acted like a loving parent. He always thought about his work, about himself, and his selfishness was what led to his family's demise.

''It was my fault,'' he whispered. ''It has always been my fault.''

He looked a little lost when Sam suddenly stepped away. She crossed her arms.

''No doubt about that,'' she said dryly, her eyes narrowed. Springtrap stood up, looking upset. ''Whom exactly have you tried to kill in your hallucination?''

''Henry,'' he muttered. ''I was at Fazbear's Fright.''

''You know, what terrified me the most wasn't the fact that you attempted to kill me, it was actually the expression you had while strangling me,'' Sam said. ''You looked so pleased, enjoying every moment of it. I can only imagine how it was for your former victims.''

Springtrap looked shocked. He stepped away from her, remembering her horror-stricken expression. The look of fear she had still haunted him.

''Of course, that bloodlust will be always a part of you. It seems like it's something you cannot escape,'' Sam added, stepping towards him. Springtrap gave her an unnerved look, then sighed.

''What should I do?'' he muttered, leaning against the wall.

''I think that's something you need to decide. I have already told you that I'm not giving up on you and that you shouldn't either,'' Sam told him in a confident tone.

''Thanks for the encouragement,'' Springtrap told her. ''Looks like you're the only person who believes there is still a shred of humanity left in me.''

''If there weren't, I would've been dead by now,'' Sam told him, now in a more serious tone. ''I guess its hard to accept that some kind of change is possible, especially when everyone else tells you that it will never happen.''

''I guess that, instead of stressing over my past, I should finally start proving that I'm not the same person that I was before,'' Springtrap told her, only to be surprised when she shook her head.

''You don't need to prove me anything. I already know that,'' Sam replied. ''If you want to prove anything to anyone, it should be to yourself.''

''I suppose you're right,'' Springtrap said, aware that he was fighting a losing battle. He knew that he wouldn't be able to persuade Sam to change her mind, and honestly, he didn't want to do that. ''Still, why are you so insistent on not giving up on me when everyone else did?''

''That's because I know how it feels when you have no one to support you,'' Sam said, her expression darkening. ''Even though I knew that Mum would help me out, I felt that, when I was at my lowest point in my life, that I should just give up on myself, keep my head down and just let people walk over me. I felt helpless, like I wouldn't be able to change anything about my situation. It took me a while to realize that I just couldn't do that to myself, but by then, it was already too late and my confidence had already been shattered.''

Springtrap felt bad for her. He understood that she felt truly alone as she tried to deal with the fact that she felt on her own skin just how awful people could be. Still, she somehow managed to fight back and try to find a way out of this mess. It wasn't much, but it seemed that she was satisfied with what she had achieved.

''When I saw you the last night on the stairs, I also remembered how I felt during that time,'' Sam said, a determined look on her expression. ''I had given up on myself and it was a horrible. I didn't want to let you experience the same.''

''Sam, I'm thankful for your support, but you shouldn't really bother so much…'' Springtrap trailed off when he saw Sam glaring at him. He sighed. ''I suppose that I cannot win this argument, right?''

''Exactly,'' Sam said in a satisfied tone. Springtrap then crouched down to be at her eye level.

''Okay, then,'' he said. ''I promise I won't give up on myself and try my best to make a change. Also, I'll let you help me as much as possible, and if there's an issue, we'll talk it out.''

''That's what I wanted to hear,'' Sam said, stepping towards him. Springtrap expected her to try to boop his nose, just to try to mess with him a little. Instead, he got almost knocked over when she hugged him. He was a little shocked, glancing at Sam in confusion as she buried her head into his chest. Honestly, he had no idea how to react to this.

However, he was glad to see her smiling when she stepped back. It felt really good to see that he managed to achieve at least what he wanted all along.

''Now that we both got that off our chests, we should focus on our upcoming task,'' he told her. Sam nodded, looking forward to it.

xXx

''Hi, Connor!'' Bella said, greeting the man inside the room. ''I guess I finally managed to find my way around the building.''

Connor nodded. He was back in his regular blue uniform, having set up Ricky to perform on the stage while he was on break.

''Hasn't your shift ended?'' he asked her.

''It did, but I'm still waiting for my roommate to pick me up,'' she replied. ''She still had something to do, but she said that she would arrive here soon.''

''I see,'' Connor muttered. ''What about your parents or your partner? Can't they pick you up from work?''

''My parents don't live here and I don't have a boyfriend,'' Bella admitted. ''It is a little annoying, but I'm managing it. Besides, I figured I needed to try and live on my own. You know, be independent.''

''I wish you luck with that,'' Connor told her.

''I heard that you'd be closing the building again,'' Bella said, with Connor shrugging. Her eyes narrowed. ''I heard that our night guard had been missing for a week. Another co-worker told me that the management gave him a call and told him that he was fired for not showing up at work. He never called back.''

''Really?'' Connor said, giving her a curious look. ''I wonder what happened.''

''Me too,'' Bella said. ''Anyways, I'm not sure whether they'll be hiring a new night guard or let someone from the closing shift do that job as some sort of 'promotion'.''

''Well, I've been here since the opening and the management likes to keep things such as 'lazy employees' private,'' Connor replied. ''I assume they'll indeed leave that routine to someone more experienced.''

''So, do you plan to get promoted to a night guard?'' Bella asked. Connor shook his head, chuckling.

''No, I'd rather stay in my role as Ricky,'' he said. ''Although, since I'm usually the last to leave, due to having to check on the animatronics, I might as well ask them whether they could give me that task. It wouldn't be much of a hassle for me and they won't have to spend money on someone who has no idea how things work here.''

''Ah, good luck with that, then,'' Bella said, her phone suddenly ringing as she got a message. ''That's my ride. I'll see you tomorrow then.''

Connor nodded, watching her as she left. He had to wonder what Bella's opinion on the animatronics was, whether she considered them interesting or not. After all, not everyone could appreciate them the way he did. Still, he knew that there were people who shared his ideas.

xXx

Springtrap glanced into the main area, with Quentin, Max and Ricky roaming through it. He assumed that Dahlia and Virgil were at the roaming through the rooms at the employee area and was also quite sure that Ricky's still hadn't hired a new night guard. So far, the animatronics hadn't seen him, which was a good thing. He didn't really want to check to see whether they still remembered that he wasn't part of their group. However, for this plan to work, they needed to hear him.

''Hello! Hi!''

His eyes glowed in a soft purple as he held up the dictaphone Sam had borrowed from Emma and played the recording.

''Hello!''

The animatronics had reacted, turning towards him. Their eyes were glowing as they stared at Springtrap, only to approach him. He waited for them to come closer and then quickly went towards where he assumed Dahlia and Virgil were. As he moved away from the main area, he held up the walkie-talkie.

''Your turn!''

He then quickly got into another corridor, avoiding Virgil. Dahlia was also behind him.

''HAHAHAHAH! HAHAHAHAH!''

He found it quite amusing that the animatronics were lured by the annoying recording of Balloon Boy's voice clip. It was nice to see it being used on someone else. He managed to get out of their sight and entered the costume room, listening to their steps as they passed by. Once they were gone, he quickly exited it and went back to the main area. However, he suddenly stopped when he saw Ricky at the other end of the corridor, moving away from him.

Springtrap waited a little, wondering if this was really worth the risk. It was something he wanted to get done while he still had the time and if his theory was right, there wouldn't be any problems. He frowned.

''Hey!'' he shouted, drawing Ricky's attention. The wolf animatronic's eyes glowed brightly as he looked at Springtrap. Then, he suddenly walked towards him, looking furious. Springtrap grinned, quickly making his way towards the main area.

''I'm in! Where are you?''

''I'll be there soon,'' Springtrap replied. ''Ricky's also coming.''

''Got it!''

He emerged at the main area, keeping his pace as he walked between the arcades towards the stage. He glanced back, noticing that Ricky briefly stopped, as he had lost the bunny animatronic, but quickly resumed once Springtrap drew his attention by playing BB's voice clip. Springtrap then quickly entered the room behind the stage, with Sam already waiting there for him. The two anxiously looked at the wolf animatronic, who approached them, but then stopped, as if he was standing in front of an invisible barrier.

''Just as I thought,'' Springtrap said, then reached out for the animatronic, grabbing his arms and dragged him into the room. Ricky at first snapped back at Springtrap, but the moment he entered the room, he stopped moving. His eyes were still glowing, but he stood there, completely frozen. Springtrap then pushed the wolf animatronic down and pulled out the wire that was connected to the animatronic's battery, effectively shutting him down.

''So, they really don't recognize this room,'' Sam said as she observed Springtrap examining Ricky.

''It seems so,'' Springtrap replied, briefly checking the inner wiring and the endoskeleton.

He wished he had the tools from his workshop with him, as they would help him dismantle and examine the animatronics in order to figure out how they worked, but it was obvious that that wouldn't happen. From what he had seen, the animatronic was quite generic, with additional features that made him distinct from the others, like the wolf ears and muzzle, but he had found something that caught his attention. It was a small black device connected to the animatronic's eyes and facial recognition system. Springtrap wanted to take it out and give it a closer examination, but he couldn't reach for it without damaging the surrounding wiring and parts. He frowned.

''This is strange,'' he muttered.

''What's wrong?'' Sam asked.

''I don't think this belongs to the animatronic,'' Springtrap said, pointing at the black device as he lifted the wiring that covered it. Sam took her flashlight and pointed at it, noticing that the device looked old and had scratches on it, looking completely different from the polished surfaces of the surrounding parts. It seemed as if someone jammed it into the animatronic.

''Can you get it out?'' Sam asked.

''No, at least not without damaging the animatronic,'' Springtrap said, putting the wires back. ''Even if I could, I don't have the necessary tools that would help me figure out what this device does.'' He stood up, feeling a little disappointed. ''Of course, I might be wrong and this was a part that simply got damaged.''

''However, you feel that this isn't right,'' Sam said, with Springtrap nodding. The two heard steps, with another animatronic getting into the room. They noticed Virgil walking past the door, with Sam glancing at Springtrap, who gave her a mischievous look. She narrowed her eyes and smirked. ''Go on.''

Springtrap's eyes flared purple as he looked at Virgil. He then exited the room, luring the owl animatronic inside, with Sam stepping back as it got a little crowded. Virgil, just as Ricky, stopped moving once he was inside the room. As Sam observed Springtrap turning the animatronic off and examining him, she got reminded of an image of a child playing with his newest toy. She grinned, stepping closer once Springtrap removed Virgil's mask to see whether he also had the same device as Ricky did. To their surprise, he didn't.

''I guess I was right about the device,'' Springtrap said, placing Virgil's mask back and dragging the animatronic outside the room. ''Although, maybe I should also examine Max, Dahlia and Quentin.''

''It wouldn't be a bad idea, but we cannot stay here for too long,'' Sam told him. ''We still need to check the hidden room.''

''You're right,'' Springtrap said as he connected the wire back to the battery. Virgil's eyes started to glow and he flapped his wing-like arms.

''Did you know that rabbits cannot live off carrots?'' Virgil suddenly said, with Springtrap stepping away from him, a little startled. It seemed that the owl didn't register that it was after hours. ''Their teeth never stop growing, their vision covers nearly 360 degrees and they're real good jumpers. According to Guinness World Records, the highest rabbit jump reached 3.26 feet off the ground and the farthest reached nearly 10 feet. There are even rabbit jumping competitions where owners can show off their pets' agility.''

''I didn't know that. Interesting,'' Springtrap said, tilting his head as Virgil walked away. He turned back to Sam, who looked quite amused.

''Let's get this over with,'' she said, pointing at the mirror, only to get startled when she heard banging. She frowned, trying to gently move away the mirror, but it was quite heavy. Springtrap stepped next to her and lifted it, with Sam finding a small panel behind it with some kind of switch. She flicked it, hearing a click sound. Springtrap lowered the mirror and the two looked at the wall as it popped open a little. The banging sounds were now louder.

As the door hadn't had a handle, Springtrap reached for the edge and opened it fully. Sam pointed her flashlight at the room, noticing that it was a little bigger than the room they were currently in, but it seemed to be empty. They glanced at each other and entered it, with Springtrap in lead, carefully looking around. It didn't take them long to spot the figure in the corner of the room, leaned against the wall. Sam pointed her flashlight at it, gasping as she and Springtrap recognized it.

It was an animatronic, about the same height as Springtrap. The suit it had was black, with artificial feathers covering the torso and arms, giving it a ruffled look. It had a grey beak and legs, with the toes being shaped like talons. It's eyes were black and it reminded Sam of some kind of large black bird.

''A crow? Or a raven?'' she muttered, glancing at Springtrap. ''I'd say that it's supposed to be a raven.''

''This is the animatronic that was decommissioned,'' he said, frowning.

''Why would they leave it here?'' Sam asked, with Springtrap stepping closer and crouching next to it.

''I don't know,'' he said, tilting his head. ''If this was Freddy's, I wouldn't have been surprised to see this guy here. After all, they hid the Spring Bonnie suit and pretended it never existed. However, this raven animatronic wasn't even part of Ricky's Wonder Shack, yet it is here.''

He then reached out for the animatronic, planning to examine it. However, before he could do that, not only did he saw static covering his vision, but there was also a weird buzzing sound that irritated his senses. He clutched his head, standing up and backing away from the raven animatronic. The static and the buzzing sound stopped.

''Spring, are you okay?'' Sam asked in a worried tone.

''Yeah, I'm fine,'' Springtrap replied, feeling a little confused. What he just felt wasn't a hallucination, but rather something different. He stared at the raven animatronic. ''Something's wrong with it.''

Suddenly, the animatronic started to trash around, opening its beak and let out a loud screech. Sam covered her ears, her head hurting from the loud sound. However, something felt wrong about it. It was mechanical, but she felt as if she heard something else. She glanced at Springtrap, who was staring at the animatronic, looking stunned. He then turned to her.

''Sam, we need to get out of this place,'' he said. ''Now!''

She nodded, quickly following him outside. She briefly glanced back at the animatronic, who was trashing again, his eyes glowing brightly. Springtrap quickly closed the door, with both of them hearing a click as it got automatically locked.

Sam looked into the main area, surprised to see it being empty. She glanced back at Springtrap, who nodded, and they quickly made their way out of the building. To their luck, they only saw Max coming towards them just as they closed the back entrance and locked it. Sam glanced at Springtrap, looking stunned.

''What was that?''

Before Springtrap could answer her, they heard a car approaching the building and quickly hid in the alley. They saw the car stopping at the parking lot, with a man in his mid-20s exiting it. Sam noticed that he had brown hair and wore a blue shirt, which was the uniform of the employees who worked at Ricky's Wonder Shack. Sam then felt a tug on her shoulder and turned to Springtrap.

''We need to leave,'' he whispered. She nodded and quickly followed him.

xXx

Connor entered the building through the back door, noticing Max in the hallway suddenly turning towards him. He smirked, taking out a small black remote-like device and pushed the button on it. The cat animatronic suddenly stopped, staring at him as the man walked past, looking completely unperturbed by the animatronic's strange reaction.

''I'll deal with you and your friends later,'' Connor muttered under his breath, briefly glancing at Max.

He then entered the main area, walking over to the room behind the stage. Dahlia, Quentin and Virgil were also inside, but they made no move towards him. Connor looked around curiously, noticing that Ricky was missing.

''Where could he be?'' he said, only for his attention to be drawn by the open door that led to the room behind the stage. He looked inside it, seeing Ricky being leaned against the wall and turned off. He frowned, knowing well that he wasn't the one who left him like this. However, he knew that he wouldn't find out who did it either, as he was the one who kept the cameras off during the night.

Deciding to deal with this later, he stepped towards the mirror, lifting it up and turning the switch, which unlocked the hidden door. Stepping inside, he saw the raven-like animatronic trashing around, his black eyes glowing brightly as he noticed Connor.

''It's time to move away, buddy,'' Connor told the animatronic. ''I'm sorry, but I can't keep you here.''

The animatronic suddenly screeched, trashing even more when Connor approached him, but he was unable to stand up. He looked almost afraid of the man.

''I know it hurts, but I promise you, the pain will eventually stop,'' Connor said, but the animatronic didn't stop. Connor frowned, then reached over for the wire and disconnected it from the battery. The animatronic stopped trashing, but his eyes were still glowing. ''Seems like you still haven't figured out how to move properly.''

He stood up, staring at the animatronic. However, his mind was focused on that strange bunny he saw, and his glowing purple eyes. He had to wonder whether his mind was just playing a trick on him, or whether the bunny was real. If it was indeed real, then…

''Didn't Freddy's have some kind of bunny animatronic?'' he muttered, then smirked. ''Maybe I should look into it a little more.''

He needed to know. He needed to find out whether he could stand on the line between life and death.

xXx

''That was absolutely insane!'' Sam said as she and Springtrap walked back home. ''That animatronic, the Raven, he's completely different than Ricky and the others.''

''So, you're calling him The Raven?'' Springtrap asked.

''Or just Raven,'' Sam said, shrugging. ''The point is, that screech we heard; it wasn't purely mechanical. Hell, it sounded like he was in pain.''

''Not only that,'' Springtrap said, frowning. Sam looked at him with a curious look on her expression. ''When he screeched, I could swear that I saw something else. It looked like some kind of distorted face, but with its eyes gouged out. It was only brief and I doubt that it was a hallucination.''

''So, you think that Raven might be haunted?'' Sam asked. Springtrap nodded.

''However, it does feel strange. I mean, I saw other haunted animatronics, but this guy doesn't give me the same vibe,'' Springtrap explained. ''I just can't figure out why.''

''I'm sure we'll find out what exactly happened. I bet it is related to that accident that caused him to become decommissioned,'' Sam said. ''Speaking of which, who was that guy? The new night guard?''

''Actually, I saw that man before,'' Springtrap replied. ''It was during our first night there. I told you that someone lingered in the room with the costumes and I'm quite sure that it was him.''

''It could be possible that he's Ricky's actor,'' Sam said. ''If that's true, than he may have come tonight to check on the animatronics, specifically, on Raven.''

''He'll know that we were there,'' Springtrap said, with a look of guilt on his expression. ''I forgot to activate Ricky when we left.''

''It doesn't matter anymore. We have the information we need,'' Sam said. ''Now we need to find out what was that accident that caused Raven to be decommissioned and for that, we need to go to the Machinations Factory.''

''Right,'' Springtrap nodded. He was already looking forward to it, although, there was still something else on his mind, something that bothered him. If he's trying to create haunted animatronics, he doesn't seem to be really good at it. If he's aware of that, he probably won't stop until he's satisfied. After all, he doesn't have the knowledge that I have.

Springtrap turned to Sam, with a determined look on his expression.

''Rest assured, I won't let anyone copy what I had achieved,'' he said, with Sam nodding. ''Those haunted animatronics – they're my legacy.''

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[2bhkflatsnearraipur]

What Makes 2 BHK Flats Near Raipur the Smartest Buy in 2025?

Introduction: Why Everyone's Talking About Raipur Real Estate

Raipur is no longer just the capital of Chhattisgarh—it’s the next big real estate hotspot.

The rise of IT parks, educational institutions, and infrastructure development has pushed property demand up—especially for 2 BHK units.

Young professionals, nuclear families, and smart investors are all eyeing 2 BHK flats near Raipur.

What’s Driving the Demand for 2 BHK Flats Near Raipur?

Affordability: Compared to metros, Raipur offers competitive pricing with better space and amenities.

Location benefits: Close proximity to schools, markets, and hospitals.

Lifestyle shift: More people prefer compact yet comfortable living.

ROI value: Prices are still growing—early buyers can benefit long-term.

Why 2 BHK Flats Work for Everyone

Young couples: Just the right size, manageable, and affordable.

Small families: Enough room for comfort and privacy.

Senior citizens: Low maintenance and close community feel.

Investors: Easy to rent out with steady demand.

What Features Should You Look For in a 2 BHK Flat Near Raipur?

Good layout: Maximized space, natural lighting, and ventilation

Gated community: Security, peace of mind, and added amenities

Future-ready facilities: Power backup, parking, lift, recreational zones

Connectivity: Smooth access to highways, railway stations, and key city centers

Why Buy Now? The 2025 Real Estate Pulse

Pre-launch offers: Smart deals like 2 BHK flats starting from ₹36 Lakhs

Infrastructure boom: Smart City initiatives and new roadways make the outskirts more liveable

Rental income: 2 BHKs have a steady rental demand, giving investors peace of mind

EMI affordability: Interest rates still favorable—lock it in now

What Are the Trending Locations for 2 BHK Flats Near Raipur?

Mowa: Fast-developing, close to commercial zones

Vidhan Sabha Road: Popular among working professionals

Sejbahar & Bhatagaon: Budget-friendly with good social infrastructure

Kachna: A rising star with multiple real estate projects popping up

Why Should You Avoid Buying Just Anywhere?

Poor resale value in overcrowded or underserviced areas

Lack of basic amenities like water and waste disposal

Legal issues: Always go for RERA-approved projects

Construction quality: Not all builders offer the same reliability—check reviews

What First-Time Buyers Should Keep in Mind

Builder’s credibility

Loan pre-approval

Hidden charges like GST, maintenance, and registration

Possession timeline: Is it ready-to-move or under-construction?

Site visits: Always take one—photos can be deceiving

Why 2 BHK Flats Will Continue to Rule the Market

Balanced lifestyle: Not too big, not too small

Smart investment: Resale and rental friendly

Easier upkeep: Lower maintenance costs compared to larger units

Growing urban trend: Families are shrinking, but lifestyle demands are growing

What’s the Right Time to Buy? (Hint: It’s Now)

Builders like Ram Enclave are offering pre-launch prices

Market prices are expected to rise by mid-2026

Government subsidies under PMAY may not last forever

Inventory is moving fast in prime locations near Raipur

FAQs People Are Searching About 2 BHK Flats Near Raipur

Q1: Is Raipur a good place to invest in real estate? A: Yes, it’s one of the fastest growing Tier-2 cities in India with increasing job and educational opportunities.

Q2: How much does a 2 BHK flat near Raipur cost? A: On average, prices range from ₹30–45 Lakhs, depending on location, builder, and amenities.

Q3: What is the resale value like? A: Quite stable—especially in locations like Mowa, Shankar Nagar, and Vidhan Sabha Road.

Q4: Is it better to go for under-construction or ready-to-move flats? A: Under-construction flats often come with better pricing but check possession timelines. Ready-to-move means immediate use but might be slightly more expensive.

Conclusion: Why Ram Enclave Should Be on Your Radar

If you’re looking for 2 BHK flats near Raipur, Ram Enclave deserves a serious look. Located in one of the city’s most promising growth corridors, Ram Enclave offers:

Spacious 2 BHK layouts

Peaceful surroundings

Modern amenities like landscaped gardens, security, parking, and more

Pre-launch price of just ₹36 Lakhs, making it one of the best deals in town

Great connectivity to Raipur’s top spots without the chaos of city life

Whether you’re a first-time buyer, investor, or someone planning to move into a better lifestyle—Ram Enclave is designed to deliver comfort, community, and class.

To get latest updates about our services and offers, join our whatsapp channel: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbBGD7vElagwfRB6xm2b

[campercocampervanshirelimited]

No More Campsite Headaches: Mastering Motorhome Setup & Pack Down

Setting up and packing down a motorhome can be one of the most stressful parts of a road trip, especially for new travellers. Without proper guidance, what should take minutes can turn into confusion and delays. From levelling the vehicle to handling waste systems, small errors can disrupt your experience. However, with a little planning and a clear checklist, managing this routine becomes simple and stress-free. Whether you're exploring through motorhome hire or enjoying a journey with South Island Campervan Hire, knowing the right steps makes all the difference. In this article, we'll guide you through a smooth and efficient motorhome setup and pack-down process.

Arrive and Assess the Campsite First

Before anything else, take a few minutes to assess your chosen site. Make sure the ground is flat, safe, and suitable for overnight parking. Avoid areas that slope too much or are prone to water pooling. Check your clearance and leave enough room for opening doors, awnings, and outdoor gear. This initial check helps prevent small problems from developing into major issues later. Those starting their trip with Motorhome Rental Nelson will find that getting familiar with their motorhome's dimensions is key to a safe and easy parking process.

Level the Vehicle for Comfort and Safety

Once you've chosen a good spot, the next step is to level the motorhome. A level vehicle ensures that your appliances, especially the fridge, work properly. It also improves sleeping comfort and prevents water pooling in sinks or showers. Use levelling blocks under the wheels if the ground is uneven. Many who opt for Motorhome Rental Christchurch quickly learn the value of practising this step early in their travels.  

Connect to Utilities in the Right Order

Connecting your utilities correctly helps everything function smoothly. Start by plugging into the power source, then connect your fresh water supply and, finally, your wastewater hose, if available. Handle each connection with care and ensure the hoses are securely fastened. This step is often easier than expected and quickly becomes routine. Those using Queenstown Campervan Hire services benefit from learning how these systems work before hitting the road. Most providers offer simple guides or quick tutorials at the time of pickup.

Secure the Interior Before You Drive Off

When it's time to leave, packing down is just as important as setting up. Ensure all items inside are stowed securely—this includes dishes, electronics, and any loose gear. Lock drawers and cupboards, and ensure appliances are turned off. Close vents, windows, and roof hatches properly. If you're travelling with motorhome hire or have booked through motorhome rental, this step helps protect your belongings and keeps the ride smooth. A well-organized interior also makes it easier to unpack at your next stop.

Wrap Up

Motorhome trips are meant to be enjoyable, not stressful. Learning the proper steps for setting up and packing down your vehicle turns confusion into confidence. From assessing the campsite and levelling the van to connecting utilities, securing the interior, and handling waste, each step adds comfort and safety to your journey. A little routine and attention to detail go a long way in creating a relaxed travel experience. CamperCo Campervan Hire continues to support travellers by offering clear guidance, reliable vehicles, and friendly advice. Whether you're planning with motorhome rentalor exploring through Queenstown Campervan Hire, their expertise ensures that every part of your trip—setup to pack down—is smooth and efficient.

[how2fit]

With all the stairs, hills, chairs, and walls around, the world can be your gym. One of the simplest ways you can put this “fitness equipment” to use is through a move you probably remember from P.E. class: a wall sit. “While [wall sits are] a strength move, wall sits are so much more than that,” says Kelsey Wells, NASM-certified trainer and the creator of the PWR programs on the SWEAT app. Along with their lower-body strengthening power, they can promote physical and mental endurance, deliver “a mild cardio boost,” and are ripe for personalized variations, whether you want to work up to a full wall sit or make the move more challenging. Wondering how to get the most of this versatile exercise? You’ve got plenty of options. But first, you’ll want to make sure you’ve got the basics down. How to do a wall sit with perfect form every time Pretending you’re sitting in a chair, without a chair actually supporting you, is easier than it may seem. Here's how to do it: [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaZNYM3zAP0[/embed] Find a wall and rest your back flat against it with your feet slightly out in front of the wall. Make sure your feet are about shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees and slide down the wall so your thighs are perpendicular to the wall and your knees form a 90-degree angle. You may need to adjust your feet distance from the wall to make that 90-degree angle at your hips and knees, but only slide down the wall as far as you can comfortably go. Engage your muscles, including your quads, glutes, and hamstrings. Also make sure to keep your core tight and arms at your sides. Hold for time, then push through your heels to stand back up. How long should you hold a wall sit? The answer to this question is personal. In order to get the benefits of a wall sit, it needs to challenge you. And that point might come at different times for different people. “For beginners, 20 to 30 seconds is a great starting point,” Wells says. “Intermediate to advanced athletes might aim for 45 to 90 seconds or more. The key is quality over time—maintain proper form the whole way through, and don’t push past the point where you start to lose alignment.” “Wall sits mimic the mechanics of sitting and standing, making them great for building strength to support those movements efficiently and pain-free.” —Kelsey Wells, CPT Wall sit form tips to keep in mind Avoid stressing your joints or undermining your effort by following these tips. 1. Keep your hands by your sides We all know the gym class shortcut of putting in some additional support for yourself with the addition of your arms. "Don’t let your hands wander to your knees to make the exercise easier,” certified personal trainer Bojana Galic, CPT, says. 2. Keep your knees pointing straight ahead Don’t let them collapse inward, which could put pressure on your joints. 3. Lock in that 90-degree knee bend Make sure your ankles are positioned directly under your knees, not too far from or close to the wall. “If your feet aren’t far enough from the wall, you’ll stress your knees,” Wells says. 4. Keep your back glued to the wall Try your best to avoid leaning forward. “Your back should stay flat against the wall the whole time, which ensures proper alignment and prevents injury,” Wells says. 5. Find a goldilocks parallel You want your thighs to be parallel to the floor, so try not to hold the position too low or too high. Wall sit benefits that'll make you want to add the move to your workouts Why should you go to all the effort to sit in an invisible chair? It’s well worth it. 1. They work a lot of muscles at once Wondering which muscles wall sits work? It’s basically two-thirds of your whole body, including your lower body and trunk. “Wall sits primarily target your quadriceps, but they also engage your hamstrings, glutes, calves, and core,” Wells says. 2. They build functional strength Wall sits are an isometric move, which means you're holding a muscle under tension without changing its length.

This kind of strength training can particularly benefit stability and endurance, “which translates directly into functional movements like walking up stairs, maintaining good posture, and carrying heavy groceries,” Wells says. “If you think about it, wall sits mimic the mechanics of sitting and standing, making them great for building strength to support those movements efficiently and pain-free.” They also promote muscular endurance, another important concept for functional fitness, such as in times when you may need to stand or hold something for a longer period of time. 3. They can encourage proper posture Because you’re using your core to keep that back flat against the wall, it can help reenforce that nice stacked spine in your everyday life. “Wall sits encourage good posture and core engagement,” Wells says. “The more you practice them, the more you’ll notice improvements in the way you carry yourself in daily life.” 4. They’re accessible and versatile All you need to do wall sits is a wall, and you can also modify them based on your strength. If you're new to quad work, start with a smaller bend in your knees than a 90-degree angle, and slowly work your way down to parallel as you build strength. If you want to increase the challenge, try putting a weight plate on your lap. 5. They’re a meditative mental challenge Because the only thing forcing you to make it through the struggle to your time goal is your own mental will, wall sits can help you work out your body and your mind. “They’re amazing for mental endurance,” Wells says. “Your muscles burn, and the seconds feel endless, but learning to stay with that discomfort builds mental resilience.” You can even look at them as a way to practice mindfulness and connect with your breath. “I like to think of it as a mind-muscle connection exercise, where you tune into your breath, notice how your body feels, and stay focused on every sensation,” Wells says. “As your legs start to burn, instead of resisting the discomfort, you learn to breathe through it, stay grounded, and trust in your strength. It’s a reminder that even when things get tough—whether in workouts or in life—you can stay calm, centered, and in control.” How to work wall sits into your routine Because wall sits are truly a move you can do anywhere at any time, it’s difficult to go about it wrong. Have a spare minute? Give yourself a micro-challenge for 60 seconds. You can also add them to any lower-body workout you have scheduled. Wells suggests adding them to your warmup to activate your lower body, using them as a finisher at the end of your workout for an extra burn, combining them with other movements—like holding dumbbells in a wall sit while doing biceps curls or lateral raises to train multiple muscles at once.

[tlwizard]

The Key to Peace of Mind: Why Regular Lock Maintenance is Your Home's Best Friend

📋 Table of Contents - Why Regular Lock Maintenance is Essential - 🚪 Prevent Lockouts and Headaches - 💰 Extend Lock Life and Save Money - 🛡️ Enhance Security with Well-Maintained Locks - 🔍 Detect Problems Early - 🔧 How to Maintain Your Locks: Step-by-Step - 🌦️ Seasonal and Coastal Considerations - 👨‍🔧 When to Call a Professional Locksmith Why Regular Lock Maintenance is Essential As a seasoned locksmith, I’ve seen countless cases where a little preventive care could have saved homeowners from major headaches. Today, I’m sharing my top tip that often flies under the radar: regular lock maintenance. You might be thinking, "Lock maintenance? I just use my locks; do they really need maintenance?" The answer is a resounding yes! 🚪 Prevent Lockouts and Headaches A well-maintained lock is less likely to jam or malfunction. Imagine being locked out of your home on a cold, rainy night because your lock decided to give up. Regular maintenance can help you avoid this frustrating situation. 💰 Extend Lock Life and Save Money Quality locks aren’t cheap. By keeping them in good condition, you’re protecting your investment and potentially saving money on premature replacements. Simple maintenance can keep your locks working longer, reducing the need for replacements. 🛡️ Enhance Security with Well-Maintained Locks A lock in poor condition isn’t just inconvenient; it’s a security risk. Worn-out locks are easier for intruders to pick or manipulate. Regular upkeep ensures your locks remain strong, providing the best defense for your home. 🔍 Detect Problems Early Regular checks can help you spot potential issues before they become major problems. It’s much easier (and cheaper) to fix a small issue than to deal with a completely broken lock that compromises your security. 🔧 How to Maintain Your Locks: Step-by-Step Maintaining your locks is simpler than you might think! Here's how: - Clean Your Locks: Use a soft cloth to remove dust and grime from the exterior. For the keyway, a can of compressed air works wonders. - Lubricate: A graphite-based lubricant is ideal for locks. Avoid oil-based products as they can attract dirt and gum up the mechanism over time. - Tighten Loose Screws: Check for any loose screws on the lock face plate or strike plate and tighten them. - Check Alignment: Ensure your door hasn’t shifted, causing misalignment between the lock and strike plate. - Test All Functions: Make sure the lock operates smoothly in all its functions—locking, unlocking, latching, etc. 🌦️ Seasonal and Coastal Considerations Aim to perform these steps at least twice a year. Spring and autumn are good times, as they prepare your locks for temperature extremes. For those living in coastal areas, more frequent maintenance may be necessary due to salt air corrosion. And don't forget about your window locks—they need attention too! 👨‍🔧 When to Call a Professional Locksmith If you're not comfortable performing maintenance yourself or notice any issues, don’t hesitate to call a professional. A locksmith can provide a thorough check-up and address problems before they escalate. Closing Thoughts Your locks are your home's first line of defense. By giving them regular attention, you’re not just maintaining a mechanism; you’re investing in peace of mind. A little care goes a long way in keeping your home secure and your mind at ease. In the world of home security, an ounce of prevention is truly worth a pound of cure. Read the full article

[stillsolo]

@sgterso moved & cont. from [ x ]

as soon as she knocks on his door, she regrets it, the memories of a past she’s done her best to push behind her making their way out of the cave in her mind and coming to the forefront of her brain. the cold rain beats down on her already battered body, a sharp chill that settles deep in her bones. her hands clench into fists, nails biting into the meat of her palms ; after a few seconds, she debates spinning on her heel and turning away, fbi surveillance in her apartment be damned, but then han opens the door and she’s frozen in place. 

he looks…good. she drinks in the sight of him after three or so years of not seeing him, eyes tracking the lines of his face, his expression. he looks different, yes, but good. it’s a sharp contrast from her own doleful appearance –– she barely recognizes herself in the mirror, so much so that she makes a point to avoid looking. 

“ i didn’t have anywhere else to go. “ she feels a strange need to justify herself in front of him but stars, she sounds pathetic when she says it like that, even more so because it’s not entirely true. she could go back to her apartment but she doesn’t want any eyes on her right now. though she’s found most, if not all, of the bugs in her apartment, she can’t risk removing them and breaking her contract. even the thought of going back to wobani has dread curling in her stomach so she’s been on her best behavior these past few months. 

( and, despite not being privy to what han’s been up to these past few years, she’s always felt safe around him. )

she stumbles as he yanks her into the apartment, her usual grace gone due to her exhaustion and minor injuries. she stands in his front hallway awkwardly as he locks back up and runs off to grab towels. at the sound of chewie’s howls in the bedroom, her lips curl up in a fond half-smile ; it’s much easier to admit that she’d missed the dog than…

when he returns, she accepts the towels with a muttered thanks, teeth clenched to ward off their clattering. she remembers where the bathroom is without having to ask, shutting the door behind her and immediately exhaling when she’s alone. she’s grateful that he’d let her in, grateful that he hadn’t turned her away despite the late hour and the history between them, but this is all a bit too much. she needs a few minutes to compose herself, to get her thoughts in order. 

she strips off her wet clothes and turns on the shower. as she waits for the water to heat up, she examines her scarred skin the mirror. there’s a nasty purple bruise climbing up her side but she doesn’t feel any broken ribs. aside from a few minor abrasions on her knuckles and hands, she’d managed to come out of the last mission relatively unscathed. that’s more than she can say for some of her team members but she refuses to think about it as she gets under the scalding hot water, staying still until her skin becomes a blistering red. 

once she’s done, she clambers out and wraps herself up in towels. though han’s seen more of her bare skin than most, it’s been about three years since those days. she’s changed, more than just the dozens of new scars on her body. instead, she calls through the door, hoping she isn’t pushing her luck too far, “ d’you mind if i borrow those clothes now ? ” 

             𝙹𝙰𝙼𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚂 ,  solo heaved out a sigh before squinting down at the mess he’d made of his bedroom dresser.  he’d yanked open each drawer in search of what he once considered an everyday necessity, now turned contingency plan for a life he’d left behind.  yet, it wasn’t in the dresser.  rummaging through the bedroom and hallway closet had been a waste of time, and there was no way he would ever keep it inside his safe, locked behind a combination dial and key.  so where the hell had he put it?  not too long ago, he’d pulled it out of a storage box, held it in both hands and wondered again where the time had gone.

han’s attention wandered across the bedroom floor and touched down on chewie, who had yet to budge an inch from where he lay on his massive bed.   ❝y’know i’d carry her in here myself if i could.❞   in truth, han wouldn’t, even if he had the chance.  the passage of time erecting new barriers was partly to blame, but it was jyn’s rather hasty retreat to the bathroom that troubled him more than he’d like to admit.

was she injured?  he couldn’t recall spotting any blood on the floor, only water pooling everywhere, and he had been mindful enough to notice that her gait showed no signs of faltering.  the hallway connecting the den to the bedroom and the only bathroom was absent of a light fixture, and switching on the lights in the den had been the last thing on his mind when he made for the door.

              ❝awh hell, don’t gimme that look.❞  han crossed the room to ruffle his boy’s fluffy head, which did little to appease as chewie only started whining and twitching in place, no doubt responding to the familiar old scent lingering on his best friend.  ❝she’s in the shower, so just give it a second,❞ he murmured softly, recognizing a pout when he saw one.  when chewie offered nothing but a pointed snort, han paused, noting the silence of the apartment.  before he could turn toward the bathroom, the muted roar of water started up and began rumbling through the pipes in the walls.

the furball released another chuff, a bit more emphatic this time.  ❝yeah, yeah, i hear ya.❞   grimacing, han hoisted himself up off the floor to serve both the gutted dresser and disheveled closet an incisive glare.  both hands on his hips, he looked around aimlessly.  it wouldn’t be long before jyn would be out and… he dove for the nightstand.  it housed his weapon of choice, a heavily modified mauser C96 that no longer left the apartment tucked into the back of his jeans.  life had changed significantly in the past ten years, but han would sooner throw out his bed than ever sleep a wink without his trusted pistol stashed within reach.  alongside it were a few trinkets kept out of nostalgia, useless knickknacks some inane part of him couldn’t seem to part with.

at the sound of jyn’s voice, han scooped up the drawer’s contents, then grabbed the clothes he had laid out on the bed.  this wasn’t ideal, but jyn had changed little in the past three years.  she barely came up to his shoulders.

             ❝got a few choices,❞ he said once at the doorway, head cocked in the opposite direction as he blindly offered an old baggy t-shirt full of holes, one she had stolen more than once, and a nicer pair of athletic shorts with a drawstring.  it took him a few attempts to get it right, and there was the very real possibility of this backfiring and annoying her, but han knew the world in which they came from, and a throbbing knuckle was a small price to pay for showing a woman respect.

❝under the shirt’s some of your old clothes,❞ han added, clearing his throat with a hint of awkwardness, though his posture remained firm.  ❝lucky you i forgot t’throw them out.❞

[n0thingandnobody]

he wishes that he could will the pain away: lock it away into a box, throw away the key, & shove into the farthest corner of the closet to never think about again. if only it was that easy. deep down he knows diana speaks the truth. that his trust in her goes much, much deeper than his trust in persephone of all fucking people. & so he nods. slowly, as if the action pained him. fingers dig into his temples in a bid to make the pounding in his head disappear. he doesn't turn back to face diana, nor does he make any effort of physical contact.

in a few moments, he'll dismiss himself to the bathroom, inhale enough powder to numb himself to everything, & then maybe he can put his hands on her without wanting to throw up — for now, he just leans against the back of the couch, eyes burning a hole into the floor. arms cross over his chest, hands tucked safely under his arms while brows furrow. he wonders how many things would have been avoided if persephone had simply let him die when he wanted to die.

teeth gnaw on the inside of his cheek for a moment longer, fresh wave of nausea washing over him. ❛ why didn't you just leave? i'm nothing. nobody. you could have anybody you want, so why me? ❜ maybe if he keeps pressing buttons, she'll walk away. maybe if he keeps pushing, she'll give up. & he'll get to spiral in peace, back into the blissful nothingness that meant he didn't need to face any of the things he ran from. deep down, he doesn't want that, & he knows he doesn't want that, but god, would it be so much easier.

To lose his touch is to shatter her heart into minuscule pieces. Her arms remain outstretched for him, as though she was embracing a ghost who disappeared. And the ring, oh the ring, is still in her palm, and she cannot bear to part with it. She cannot bear to let him have it back or to set it on the table. As though it will be her last chance to hold it, to see it, to cherish it. Perhaps it will be. The night is spiraling into disaster, and Diana feels spite for the chains of truth wrapped around her, spite for herself for hurting Mikey, and spite for her sister for betraying her trust. For what? To relish in the pain of the man Diana loves the most? His hurt could be cut through with her sword, and if she thought it would help, perhaps she would do just that. Is this what you want, Seph? Utter destruction?

❛ You have always been enough, Mikey! ❜ she exclaims. ❛ I was scared. I thought I was hurting you more than helping you. I thought, I don't know...I thought I was speaking to my sister. I thought I might have to sacrifice you to keep you safe. I was a fool, and I hated myself for speaking the words as soon as they left my lips. Mikey, please. ❜

Her mind spins, there is no good answer to offer him. All Diana has done is widen the divide between them each time she opens her mouth. Now, she crumbles, the sobs scratch her throat as they escape through her mouth, sobs that could shake the entire apartment building. They say to never cross a woman scored, but what do you do in the case of a woman devastated? ❛ If you ever thought me to be a woman worthy of wearing your mother's ring, then I'm begging you, Mikey. Trust me when I say I love you. Trust me when I say I want it to be you and me, always. ❜ She brings the ring to her mouth to kiss, once more. Tears make her whole body shake. And it seems inevitable that she is going to lose the love of her life all over again.