#exercise in playing with cloud brushes

[chaoticcomposition]

it's hard to conceptualize ves' height drawing her alone so I put her beside our druid, solvei, played by @solfell! they're both part genasi but don't know that the other is yet

[rayveneyed]

cw: smut / cisfem!reader / scent kink

something nobody ever considers about satoru gojo is that he’s very particular about scents.

it’s a weird side effect of the six eyes that is rarely ever spoken of, by him or any other; along with his fantastical sight, his ability to distinguish minute details kilometres away, to read the ever-twisting flow of cursed energy, yadda yadda yadda — the extrasensory perception he was granted the second two gametes fused into a zygote had skyrocketed every perceptible sensation above the level of the average human. leagues above the level of not-so-average humans, too, but that’s a story for another time.

beneath the slightly dusty smell of skin cells and flesh, each person is different. diet and exercise play a huge part, of course, but then there’s the more obvious things — perfume, toiletries, surroundings. nanami always smells like paper and sandalwood. nobara, sweet and fruity, with a sneaky undertone of something synthetic — something almost hospital-like. yuji smells like grass and citruses, like he’s just popped open a can of something fizzy and caffeinated on the lawns of jujutsu tech. but if he had to choose a favourite…

“could — could you, um—”

one really must forge their own little bits of happiness in this line of work. the constant death and despair really puts a damper on one's lust for life. for gojo — sweets, cute little figures, themed cafes and expensive cakes, things that pleasantly appeal to and delight each one of his six senses. you, in a similar way, enjoy the finer things in life — cashmere and vicuña wool, luxury furniture for your top-floor apartment, century-old wines with names you cannot pronounce — and, to gojo's delight, perfumes.

oh, you have one for every day of the year, he's sure. white florals bursting with zesty citrus, bergamot and black tea when the weather cools. there's fluffy vanillas and sugar-sweet marshmallows, tempered with the smooth depth of sandalwood. osmanthus seeping with syrupy apricots and and peaches. cloves and nutmeg and cypress for the days when the clouds split open and tokyo turns grey.

with your back pressed against the couch and gojo flush against you, hips slotted between your pillowy thighs, he's able to dig his nose right into the curve of where your jaw meets your neck, exactly where you spritz your perfume every morning. today, it's one of those delicious, good-enough-to-eat type of smells; white chocolate and macadamia nut and — fuck, he almost moans against you. sugar and spice and everything nice — you smell like everything he's ever wanted to gorge himself on. he's reminded of the cheap, strawberry body spray you used to use back in high school — how the scent would catch on his nose when you walked past, how it lingered on his jacket when you brushed against him. he shivers.

he lifts his lips from your skin — lifts his nose from the cradle of your neck to give you a distracted, slightly disgruntled, "huh? what?"

it's only without the smell of you clouding his nose that he suddenly realises that you're squirming against him — the heat of your clothed pussy pressing against his hardened cock, layers of cotton and denim and linen between you both leaving you with only the slightest, most irksome hint of pleasure. even with his blindfold fastened over his eyes, it's all so much.

"just — i need something," you say, exasperated. your forehead's dewy with sweat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your pretty nose. "you've been at this for ages."

"ah, my bad." but he doesn't stop. how can he tear himself from your warmth, the heat of you radiating from your skin, your arms wound around his neck and fingers in his hair? how can he leave even a single inch of space between you, when your chest is heaving with excitement and the musky sweetness of your arousal is reaching his nose? he satisfies both your needs for stimulation with slow, curling rolls of his hips, dull pleasure tingling up his spine and leaving him shuddering. "i thought you were more patient."

"you — you're the one that dragged me in here," you say, even as your breathing gets heavier, even as your head falls back with a whine, baring the column of your neck to his greedy, seeking nose. "i told you i have plans, so unless you—!"

"alright, alright," he concedes, though all of your arguments about the time have been half-hearted at best. "don't you worry, i'll take good care of you — real good care."

"you sound like such a sleaze when you say stuff like that."

"mhm." for a moment, he lifts his head — and he doesn't have to look at his reflection mirrored in your eyes to know that his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink. you're not much better off — for all your whining and posturing, your proverbial claws aren't much more dangerous than those of a scrappy little kitten. beneath it all, your breathing is laboured, your blood vessels dilated. you smell sweeter, like your body is a ripening fruit or blooming flower, opening for him. your blood rushing to the surface of your skin, heating up the fragrance oils still dotted along your flesh, turns it all heady and head-dizzying.

you want him — you can deny it all you want, but he can see it clear as day. the reminder sends what little blood remains in his head straight to his cock.

"you smell sweet," satoru says, blank and dumb. "when you're horny."

for a moment, you pause. embarrassment — and arousal, though you probably won't admit it — has you locking up. a hint of bitterness turns your fragrance — like burning chocolate — before you huff suddenly, smacking at him until he begins to back up. "oh, my god — you're so shameless, satoru—"

"no, i'm serious! h—hey, stop!" he argues, wriggling until he's back in your good graces again. he dips his head to your skin again, teasing you with little nips along your neck. you'll see the bruises it leaves tomorrow and demand he make it up to you with sweets that he'll just have to eat with you, earrings that glimmer in garnet. for now, though, he’ll get a little serious.

"you get a little sweeter when you cum too, y'know," satoru coos. he tugs at his blindfold, blinking as unfettered light filters into his retina. it's sensory overload, overstimulating and overwhelming, but it's exactly what he wants: to see you, feel you, taste you, smell you — be engulfed by you in every way he can. as if drawn there, his hand sneaks between the tight fit of your bodies, slipping under the hiked-up hem of your skirt and petting at your underwear — soaked, as he’d expected, coating the tips of his fingers. "like syrup. i wanna smell you like that.”

his tongue peeks out over your pulse point, touch reaching up and up and up to that fantastic little ball of nerves he adores. you let out a moan so loud that even he’s taken aback. giddiness bubbles in the pit of his stomach — giddiness, horniness, it’s all the same to him — and he shoves his nose so hard into your skin he swears it’ll bruise. ah, there it is. he’s barely even touched you, too. it’ll be even better when he does.

“g—god, you’re horrible,” you say, arching into him, like you can’t bear to be apart for even a second.

“me?” satoru laughs. you’re distracting from the task at hand, though he usually doesn’t mind. he can’t help but respond, giving you your own attitude back a thousandfold. it’s just now, when it’s been so long since he’s gotten his fill of you, he’s just… a little impatient... “oi, don’t get all embarrassed — you always get so mean.”

“then stop saying things like that, and i won’t have to be — a—ah!”

satoru suckles at the cold-hardened flesh he’s just taken in his mouth — your mouth falling open in wonder and your chest heaving as he takes your nipple between two dull rows of teeth, humming. between his fingers and his mouth, you’ll soon be rendered almost completely silent, shuddering and twitching in what he knows will be a strong, satisfying orgasm — sweet with sweat, salt and musk gathering between your legs. looking up at him with glassy eyes and calling his name. his mouth waters.

he better get a move on, though: you have plans, after all.

[queen-of-vees]

(A few days later after the party..)

*Wind whispered as it brushed by leafy tendrils waving to the sky, a soft voice singing as music played out loud, wings beating the air as a certain winged demon cat cut through and flew gracefully in the clouds above a spooky pine forest on the far edge of the Pride Ring*

There’s blood on your lies, the scars open wide

*a gruff yet gentle meow sang with the song, letting teardrops fall from her amber slit eyes like rain from clouds, a solemn frown on her muzzle as she climbed up the sky, her wings flapping powerfully like a familiar exercise before letting herself fall backwards and glide above the treetops*

I’m running with the wolves tonight, I’m running with the wolves

*When the song ended, she carefully landed on the dry, crunchy grass, her wings folding to her back as she let out a tired sigh. Ever since the party, she’d been stressed and plagued with nightmares and memories she’d rather forget. She hugged herself, sitting on the floor cross-legged and bowing her head. No matter what she did, she could never forget her past*

(@flames-of-fame-feline )

Velvette huffs as she stomps her way into the clearing. She had gone to the woods for an aesthetic summer photoshoot but of course nobody knew how to do their fucking job right, she had stormed off and let them clear up the rest. She spots Calco and her demeanor instantly softens.

"Hey! Calco- I.. its been a while, right?" Velvette laughs nervously, wrapping her arms around herself as a breeze picks up, still in the lacy white dress from her failed photoshoot.

[yatzstar]

Placebo Effect

ANOTHER for the ik'aad AU by @star-farer, wherein the Bad Batch discover and utilize the concept of 'kissing it better'. Based on this story and a discussion about how the Batch may have learned about this concept :)

Crosshair’s concentration was broken by movement in the corner of his eye. He paused his work on repainting the pauldron Hunter had mangled in an off-world exercise, turning his attention toward an amusing sight.

Omega trundled across the barracks, her steps unsteady but determined as she approached Wrecker’s bunk where Lula lay waiting, her form swallowed in a shirt altered to fit her. Walking was still a precarious undertaking for her, mostly due to her underdeveloped sense of balance, her stubby arms flailing for equilibrium with every step.

Crosshair watched her carefully, her hair as pale and wispy as clouds, the tufts bouncing with her movements. According to information gleaned from the nurseries, it was necessary that young clones attempt walking frequently without assistance, so that they would learn the skill and build the necessary musculature. Omega seemed especially clumsy, not that Crosshair had spent a great deal of time around young cadets.

Omega made it to Wrecker’s bunk, pressing her hands against the edge for balance. She lifted her head, her eyes wide as she searched for Lula, and her gaze sharpened with recognition when she spotted one plush appendage. Stretching as far up as her small body would allow, she grabbed Lula and pulled. Unfortunately, Lula did not come easily, the toy wrapped up in Wrecker’s blanket. Her face puckered as she pulled again, determined to have her prize.

Crosshair was so amused that he failed to predict what happened a few seconds later. Omega finally yanked Lula free, but the sudden loss of her anchor point destabilized her. She teetered back a couple of steps, then plunked onto her backside harder than usual. She went still as she processed what had happened, then her face crumpled.

Crosshair let out a sigh as Omega set up a thin, pitiful wail. With her budding mobility, it was becoming common for her to cry over falling down or bumping into things, even if there was no pain involved. As best as he could recall, young clones were told to get up and quit crying in similar situations, but the little pang in his heart indicated that was not how it should be, not for the precious little girl in front of him.

“You’re fine,” he tried gently. “It’s not worth getting upset over.”

Omega focused on him with a whimper, giving him a distraught look that was almost uncannily like Wrecker as she babbled her version of his name. “C’oss!”

“Alright, alright.” Crosshair stood, and as he approached she reached for him with a grasping hand. “You’re almost as overdramatic as Wrecker.”

“Wi-ka,” Omega warbled as Crosshair lifted her from the floor. One hand grasped at his shirt, the other clinging to Lula.

“Yes, Wrecker.” Crosshair smoothed down her hair, wiping away her tears. “You’re fine, see?”

Omega blinked, her hiccuping sobs beginning to fade, but when Crosshair made to put her down she protested with a mighty, “No!”

Crosshair winced. For such a small child, she had quite the set of lungs. “You want to stay with me?”

Omega nodded earnestly with a doleful expression, her fingers tightening against his blacks.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

Crosshair’s teasing flew straight over Omega’s head as she nestled against him with a sniffle. He returned to his seat, settling her in his lap.

“B’ush,” Omega said, pointing to the paintbrushes poking up from their respective containers.

“That’s right. I’m using them to repaint Hunter’s armor.” Crosshair grabbed a clean brush and gave it to Omega, giving her something to distract herself with so curious little hands would not interfere with his work.

He resumed painting, albeit at a slower pace with Omega to consider. She remained largely unobtrusive, playing with the paintbrush’s bristles and likely ruining it, but he did not care as it was but one of many in the Batch’s possession.

Eventually, Omega fidgeting stilled, and a glance at her confirmed that the drowse of a nap was descending quickly on her. Crosshair stayed quiet, catching the paintbrush when it slipped from her grasp, but before she could sink into true sleep, approaching voices outside the door heralded the arrival of the remaining Batch members.

The door hissed open, and Omega jumped back into wakefulness, blinking wide brown eyes as three more clones piled into the room. Upon recognizing them, she began wiggling in Crosshair’s hold, blurting out a string of eager gibberish.

“I see how it is,” Crosshair grumbled with no true animosity, helping Omega down to the floor. “You just tolerate me until they get back.”

His words fell on deaf ears as Omega waddled away with all speed, dragging Lula the whole way. He watched as his brothers’ faces broke into smiles, returning her babbled greetings with endearments and almost fighting each other to hold her. No matter how tired they were after a long day of training and tests, returning to her took all the exhaustion away. Hunter got Omega first, and she was rotated through each brother, finally landing in Wrecker’s arms for a longer stay.

“The paint isn’t finished,” Crosshair announced. “I thought I would have it done, but I had a crisis to resolve.”

All three of his brothers glanced at Omega, who was drooling contentedly on Lula’s head. “What crisis?” Hunter asked.

“She fell down, barely,” Crosshair said, applying mock horror to his tone. “Apparently that was worth some tears.”

Hunter’s expression relaxed into amusement. “I see.”

“Aw, Cross just doesn’t have any sympathy, does he?” Wrecker asked Omega, who smiled at him obliviously.

Crosshair snorted. “She didn’t even hurt herself, and it’s only going to keep happening until she gets a sense of balance.”

“You’re right, for once,” Tech said, ignoring the glare he received in favor of studying Omega. “Falls are commonplace for children learning to walk, as far as I have learned, and her distress is likely from surprise rather than pain. There must be a method to quickly soothe episodes that do not necessarily warrant tears, and I think it would be worth learning more about that as she grows.”

Crosshair was not surprised by the inquiry. He had learned a great deal since Omega had entered their lives, but Tech would always be on another level entirely. “Knock yourself out.”

“I think I’ve found an answer.”

“To what?” Crosshair grunted, Tech’s proclamation tearing his attention away from the cloth he was attempting to alter into a small shirt.

“A method to placating any distress Omega might feel toward relatively harmless stimuli,” Tech answered.

“It took you three rotations?” Crosshair asked. “I thought it would take you one.”

“Well, it was not exactly straightforward.”

The conversation caught Hunter’s attention across the room, though he was rendered immobile by the girl sprawled across his lap, fast asleep with a stomach full of food. “What did you find?” he called softly.

Tech moved in closer, and Crosshair and Wrecker followed him, taking care to move quietly.  “Young children are typically illogical before their comprehension fully develops, causing them to react to things irrationally as we perceive it, such as crying over a small fall. However, I now understand that same illogical processing can be used to placate those reactions.”

“How so?” Hunter asked.

“The method that seems most common is doing something that, in the child’s mind, alleviates distress or small pains, despite the action logically having no actual medical value. A placebo effect of sorts.”

Wrecker frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“The frequent example I observed was colloquially referred to as ‘kissing it better’.”

Crosshair scoffed. “So one kiss somehow fixes everything?”

Tech shrugged. “In a word, yes. I did say it was illogical, but not ineffective at alleviating distress over minor incidents.”

“That’s ridiculous. It can’t be that simple.”

“I admit it sounds that way, but I cannot disprove it until we try.”

“I see no reason why we can’t try it,” Hunter murmured, carefully running his fingers across Omega’s curls. “And I’m sure we won’t have to wait long for an opportunity.”

As predicted, the chance to test Tech’s theory came the very next day. Omega was vastly entertained by chasing a small ball across the floor, running after it as fast as her little legs would allow. All it took was one wobbly misstep to upend her balance, and she fell to the floor with an ungraceful flop. All four men lurched forward at the cry that followed, but Tech held up a staying hand, giving the rest of them a pointed look. They hung back reluctantly, allowing Tech to approach Omega alone.

“Come now, my dear. It’s alright.” Tech knelt beside Omega, picking her up and setting her on her feet, though that did not dispel her tears. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Omega nodded, holding out the hand she had landed awkwardly on. Tech took it gently, inspecting it for any damage.

“A kiss might make it feel better,” he suggested when no real injury presented itself. “Would you like that?”

As he had claimed, Omega nodded without any question of the logic. He brought the tiny hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her palm.

“Better?” he asked.

“Mm-hm…” Omega murmured, beginning to calm as she wiped her eyes.

“Good.” Tech smiled at her gently. “Now go find your ball, and try not to run so fast.”

Omega waddled off like nothing had happened. Tech straightened, giving his brothers—especially Crosshair—a look that plainly said, “I told you so”.

“Well, I guess we have a new battle strategy,” Hunter said.

***

“Slow down, Omega!”

Hunter’s call preceded a distinct thud and a cry that sent Tech flying out of his chair. Kamino’s reflex assessments were nothing compared to what fear for his child incited in him, and he cleared the cockpit in half a second. He found Omega sitting on the floor of the cabin, clutching at her head, with Hunter leaning over her.

“What happened?” Tech breathed.

Hunter glanced up, his expression revealing exasperation over anything else. “She ran straight into the console.”

The worst of Tech’s fears diminished into similar exasperation as he approached the crying girl. They had warned her about running many times, but it seemed she had inherited their aversion to following orders. He gently pried her hands away, revealing a red spot on her forehead, the skin just barely blemished, not even bleeding.

“‘Urts!” Omega cried, her face redder from her tears than the injury itself.

Tech tilted her chin up with his fingers to assess her disposition clearly. “That’s why we’ve told you not to run so fast. It’s easy to get hurt.”

The frown Omega gave him hung somewhere between pitiful and petulant. He found it ridiculously endearing, but he fought the smile that threatened his composure.

“Think she’ll be alright?” Hunter asked.

“It is likely, though I will be watching her for signs of a concussion over the next few rotations.” Tech sighed, meeting Omega’s tearful gaze. “Now as for the current situation, I’m sure this is nothing a kiss and a little bacta couldn’t fix.”

Omega brightened at the recognition of affection, reaching for him with a shout of, “Tick!”

“Yes, of course, my love.” Now Tech made no attempt to hide his smile, taking her into his arms. Brushing back the unruly curls, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, taking care to avoid the true injury. “Better?”

Omega nodded, letting him begin to wipe away her tears, and he was glad affection had proved to be an effective strategy. She was remarkably easy to placate with it, drawn to it like a magnet.

“How fortunate we are that you are easily distracted,” he murmured, sharing a somewhat amused look with Hunter.

“Di-stac-ted…” Omega tried to imitate the word, her distress practically gone as she toyed with the strap of his goggles.

“Yes, quite often.” As Tech glanced around for the medkit, his gaze wandered over the culprit in Omega’s accident, the communications console. For the first time, it struck him how sharp the corners were, certainly sharp enough to injure a small head that drew almost perfectly level with them. “Hunter, I have a new project.”

“Pa-jec,” Omega echoed.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked.

“These edges.” Tech pressed a finger against the corner to illustrate his point. “I think it would be safer for Omega to add some sort of padding.”

Hunter’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his bandana. “You’re saying you want to babyproof the ship?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying, and I’m sure Omega agrees with me.”

Omega obliged loudly. “Ag’ee!”

“Wikaaa!” Omega ran to Wrecker as he stepped through the barracks door, laughing as he picked her up with one hand. “You back!”

“Aw, did you miss me that much?” Wrecker asked.

“Yes!” Omega proclaimed, wrapping her arms as best she could around his neck. “Waited a loooong time!”

“I’m sorry, kid. I had to do some tests.”

Omega’s happiness diminished, her brow furrowing. She knew that word, and she did not like it. She had to do tests. Sometimes they stuck her with needles that made her feel funny, and the droids were never as nice and careful with it as Tech.

“Hey, what’s that for?” Wrecker bounced her a little. “Where’s that smile gone?”

“Don’ like tests,” Omega murmured.

“Ah, don’t worry! They just wanted to see how strong I am.” Wrecker hoisted Omega into the air above his head, her frown disappearing as she squealed with delight. However, as he brought her back to himself, she noticed the bandages wrapped around his other arm.

“What happen’?” she asked, pointing.

Wrecker glanced at his arm and shrugged. “This? It was just part of the test.”

Omega regarded the bandages dubiously. “‘Urts?”

“Only a little. Don’t worry about it.”

Omega wasn’t listening anymore. She reached for Wrecker’s other arm with insistent hands, and when he lifted it, she grabbed his fingers gently. Bringing them closer to her, she leaned forward, pressing a clumsy but well-meaning kiss against the calloused skin of his fingertips.

“There.” Omega sat back, pleased with herself as she patted Wrecker’s hand gently. “All better.”

“Yeah, ‘Mega,” Wrecker agreed, somewhat choked as he cradled her close. “A whole lot better.”

Hunter officially decided that children made no sense as he stared at the blood oozing from a scrape on Omega’s knee, acquired after taking a tumble moments before. She was completely unfazed by it, too busy trying to touch every hanging vine they passed on the walk back to the ship, the very reason she had fallen in the first place.

“Omega, wait a minute,” he said, tugging on her arm to get her attention.

Omega looked up at him, her face scrunching. “Why?”

“Your knee is bleeding.” Hunter braced for tears as she inspected herself, but none came.

“I fell down,” she proclaimed matter-of-factly.

“I see that.” Hunter could not understand it. She had cried over absolutely nothing before, but now that an actual injury presented itself, she showed no distress. “Does it hurt?”

Omega considered it for a moment. “A little.”

Hunter shook his head. “Stand still so I can clean it up.”

Omega stilled, or at least as much as she could stand, entertaining herself by inspecting the handful of flowers she had collected on their walk. Hunter knelt, unscrewing his canteen of water and splashing a little on the scrape.

“Tha’s cold!” Omega squealed, performing a small dance as the water trickled down her leg.

Hunter almost laughed at her choice of what to complain about. “I know, but if you keep moving I won’t be able to wipe it off.”

Omega fidgeted but stood in one place, allowing him to work. The scrape was shallow, and once the initial blood was cleaned off, it looked far less serious. To keep it covered, he took off his bandana, tying it around Omega’s leg. “That should do the job until we get back to the ship.”

Hunter made to stand, but stopped when Omega gasped, “Wait!”

“What?”

Omega gave him one of the saddest looks he had ever seen on her. “Not gonna kiss it better?”

Hunter had thought it unnecessary with her lack of distress, but it was clear she did not share that opinion. “Oh, I forgot.” He bent, taking her leg and pressing a kiss above the bandana. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Omega’s sadness had disappeared when he straightened, her grin renewed. “You were jus’ silly.”

“That was silly of me, wasn’t it?” Hunter gave up trying to understand Omega’s logic, settling on being content that she was not upset. To save himself the potential headache of more injuries, he asked, “You want to ride on my shoulders the rest of the way back?”

“Yes!” Omega cheered.

Omega woke up from her nap to a dim and quiet ship. She stirred in her comfy pile of bedding, trying to get her bearings. It had not been so dark when she fell asleep.

“I’m right here, Omega.”

She turned toward Crosshair’s voice, his assurance coming before she could even wonder where everyone was. She made out his figure reclining on his bunk, his eyes gleaming at her in the faint light of the systems, and she clumsily began extricating herself from her bedding.

“Where’s Hun’er, an’ Wricker, an’ Tick?” she whisper-yelled at him.

“They’re right outside,” Crosshair murmured, gesturing to the closed hatch.

Omega finally freed herself, moving in his direction. “It’s dark!”

“I know.” Crosshair’s hand appeared to save her from bumbling into hard obstacles. “The light was hurting my eyes.”

Omega made it to his bunk, leaning against it. “Your eyes hurt?”

“That’s just how it is, sometimes.”

Omega said nothing more, hauling herself up onto the bunk instead. Crosshair winced as sharp little knees dug into his ribs, remaining still as Omega seated herself on his torso. She stared at him for a moment, then leaned in startlingly close to his face.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, pushing her head back with a gentle hand.

Omega frowned at the interruption, looking very much like Tech when they did not grasp something he thought was obvious. “Gonna kiss it better!”

Crosshair almost rolled his eyes, but restrained himself. It was as ridiculous as it was endearing, and he could not deny that it was effective on her, though he took the opportunity to tease her just a little. “You just want me to give you some candy, don’t you?”

“No!” Omega cried, looking terribly affronted.

“I don’t believe you,” Crosshair insisted, unable to help himself.

“Wanna make you feel better!”

“Prove it.”

Omega scowled thunderously at him as she said, “‘Cause I love you…dummy!”

A laugh slipped from Crosshair’s mouth in a rare moment of unrestrained mirth. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Go ahead.”

Omega planted her hands on his shoulders, her face scrunched with concentration as she kissed his forehead. When she sat back, she studied him carefully. “Better?”

Crosshair found he did feel better, though he attributed it to sitting in the dark for a few hours. “Mm-hm. Thanks, anklebiter.”

Omega grinned at him, brighter than a sun without any of the painful intensity, and his heart swelled. “Can I go outside?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Crosshair pretended to think on it. “I was thinking I would keep you in here a while longer.”

Omega’s face fell. “But tha’s boring!”

“Boring? I’ll show you boring…”

Omega shrieked and laughed as Crosshair grabbed her, lifting her into the air above him and threatening to turn her upside down. “No, C’oss! Lemme down!”

“Why? I’m just showing you how boring I am.” With all the noise Omega was making, Crosshair started a countdown from ten in his head. Right on cue, a fist banged against the ship’s hatch.

“Crosshair?” Hunter’s voice filtered through. “What’re you doing in there?”

Crosshair’s reply of “Nothing!” was drowned out by Omega as she flailed helplessly in the air, speaking between laughs. “He’s bein’ mean!”

Crosshair grinned. “Oh, you wound me.”

Omega was saved from her predicament by the opening of the hatch, the sudden intrusion of light prompting Crosshair to put her down and shield his eyes.

“I assume you’re feeling better?” Hunter asked, stepping into the cabin.

“I was,” Crosshair growled, though his eyes adjusted after a few moments.

“I helped him!” Omega shouted as Wrecker and Tech piled in behind Hunter, immensely pleased with herself.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Wrecker asked.

“I kissed it better!”

Crosshair glared at his brothers, though that did nothing to stop the teasing smiles growing on their faces.

“That’s a good idea,” Wrecker told Omega. “I think that was exactly what Crosshair needed.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Stow it.”

“Ah, so the placebo works for you as well,” Tech said, the sharp gleam in his eyes indicating that he would not soon forget this incident.

“Shut your howling screamer,” Crosshair hissed.

Oblivious to the fraternal contention between them, Omega became increasingly interested in the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the open hatch, and she tugged on Crosshair’s hand. “Can I go outside now?”

“I’ll go with you,” Hunter said. “I’m not sure if Cross—”

“I’m fine. Go get your shoes.”

Omega ran off as Crosshair stood, facing the grins of his brothers with a dour expression.

“So it did work,” Wrecker concluded.

“Oh, if only I could have known that years ago,” Tech said with false wistfulness. “It would have made patching him up so much easier.”

Crosshair bristled, flexing his hands. “I’m going to kill both of you.” He glared at Hunter, who was trying and failing to hide his smile. “And you, too.”

Hunter held up a hand. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I’m readyyyyy!” Omega went flying toward the hatch, full of post-nap energy. Crosshair pivoted immediately to follow her, abandoning the argument for the time being and leaving his brothers to conclude that she had, in fact, kissed him better.

***

“Ow!” Omega drew her hand back, her fingertip smarting where a sharp piece of metal had caught it.

“What’s the matter?” Echo asked somewhere above her.

Omega sat back, shaking her hand to try and relieve the pain. “I just hurt my finger a little bit.”

“Let me see.” Echo crouched next to her, taking her hand and inspecting the fingertip where blood had started to well. “We should get you some bacta and a bandage.”

Omega was startled by the offer. “I can take care of it myself.”

Echo raised an eyebrow. “I know you’re used to medical treatments, but between the two of us, we have two good hands, and that will make it easier.”

His dry joke pulled a laugh from her, and she let him help her to her feet, abandoning the pile of metal scraps she had been picking through. They went into the Marauder, and Echo pulled out the medkit, setting it between them as they sat on a bunk.

Through the cockpit’s open doors, Crosshair turned in his chair, taking the situation in with a glance. “Alright, whose fault is it?”

Echo snorted. “One of those piles of junk you all like to keep around.”

“That’s only Wrecker and Tech, not me.”

Echo made a face that clearly expressed his disagreement with that statement, making Omega laugh.

“Making fun of me behind my back?” Crosshair grumbled.

“As always.” Echo handed a piece of gauze to Omega. “Wipe off the blood while I get the bacta.”

Omega dabbed at the excess blood, and by the time she was done, Echo was ready with a swab of bacta. It stung fiercely when he applied it, and she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“I know,” Echo murmured sympathetically. “Sometimes I think the bacta is worse than the wound it’s supposed to heal.”

Crosshair came over, briefly surveying the proceedings before saying, “I suppose you never learned the best way to take care of something like this.”

Echo glanced at him. “What’s that?”

Crosshair’s lips curled into a small smile that bordered on something devious. “The effective method of ‘kissing it better’.”

Heat bloomed on Omega’s face as several incidents resurfaced from the depths of her memory, and she scowled at him. “That’s not real!”

“You used to think otherwise.”

Echo chuckled, but was quick to reassure Omega. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the idea of someone like him being that gentle.”

Crosshair folded his arms over his chest. “You haven’t dealt with a kid like that before.”

“I don’t know why I believed that actually helped,” Omega mumbled, helping Echo put a bandage on.

“The same reason you believed there were monsters in the cargo hold,” Crosshair said. “That’s what we told you.”

“Why’d you tell me that?”

“It was what Tech came up with to make you feel better. You can’t tell me it was ineffective.”

Omega continued scowling at him even as she said, “I guess not…”

Crosshair smirked back. “But I suppose it wouldn’t be so effective anymore.”

“No.” Omega jutted her chin out defiantly. “I’m too old for that now.”

For a moment, she thought she saw something sad in Crosshair’s eyes before turned and slunk back toward the cockpit. “Alright, fine.”

“Good, because that’s one area of expertise I don’t have any experience in.” Echo finished the bandage. “How does that feel?”

“Fine.” The sting lingered in Omega’s fingertip, but it was not unbearable. “Thank you.”

Echo smiled at her. “You’re welcome, especially because you complain a whole lot less than the other four.”

Omega laughed, but as he got up to put the medkit away, her thoughts returned to what Crosshair had said. It was yet another reminder of the years of painful isolation beneath Kamino’s seas, where the only assurance she had that the Batch was even alive were mission reports. Nala Se had cared little for her pain, and she had been the one to inflict it most of the time. Even if such a gesture had no medicinal value, it made her feel warm, safe, and loved when she was small, all things she was only just beginning to become reacquainted with. She wanted to feel those things again, and Crosshair had offered it in his own way.

Once Echo went back outside, Omega crept into the cockpit. “…Crosshair?”

Crosshair looked at her expectantly, but she found she could not hold his gaze. Instead, she held out her hand wordlessly, hoping he understood. She was ready for some sort of teasing comment, but she received none, only a huff of amusement as calloused fingertips encircled her hand. His lips touched her fingers with a delicacy that did not seem natural to him, the action suffusing her chest with warmth.

“Thanks,” she whispered when he drew away, unsure of where to look.

“Did it help?” Crosshair asked, his tone expectant.

Omega found that it had, strangely enough. No physical change had taken place, but somehow the lingering pain seemed…lesser. She glanced at him shyly. “Yeah, kinda.”

Crosshair smirked, but it wasn’t teasing as much as satisfied. “Good.”

“Why does it help?” she wondered.

 “Ask Tech when he gets back. I’m sure he’d love to talk your ear off about it.”

“Okay.” Omega began planning how fast she could finish her other activities. She turned to leave in a rush and almost tripped over her own feet, saved from unbalancing herself when Crosshair snagged her arm.

“Glad to see that hasn’t changed…”

[spoiled-fawn]

John Price; Drop Everything Now.

Part 2

CW: PTSD, Songfic inspired by "Sparks Fly" (Not in a cringe way I promise)

GN!Reader who is a sergeant on TF141. WC: 2,262

AN: I needed to post this before I completely tore it apart (again) and decided to scrap it. LMK if you'd like a part two because I have a good chunk of it but unsure if I'd like to continue this since I want the PTSD to linger and not be just diminished because reader is love of his life (I'd like to at least try to have some realism, rip). This was actually created for a test run of writing PTSD so I am happy to take any constructive criticism or tips for writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Being stationed in the Middle East meant that you weren't used to much besides the hot sun baring down on every activity you did and dust storms that would blow over, which effectively made you shut your mouth to not breathe in the dirt. However, that didn’t mean that Mother Nature would not bless the dry lands with an ounce of rain every once in a while. 

You wouldn’t know about the rain usually unless you were outside training or on a mission when the dark clouds would roll in, giving you a rare break from the sun. Other times, the clouds would cover the stars and moon in the night sky, but you wouldn't be able to tell just what kind of clouds they were. 

And that, unfortunately, is how tonight is going without your knowledge.

The rain was never an issue on base, its greatest hindrance being the lack of vision, the annoyance of getting wet, and the general time it would take to wait it out. However, there was always the unspoken thought of the thunderstorms that could arise. 

You’ve served two years within TF141 as a sergeant, having been recruited and transferred to be on base under Price’s command. Now having some experience under your belt, you’ve seen a thing or two- but nothing compared to your superiors.

From an external point of view and reflection on yourself, it brings a possibility that your mind has yet to realize if the memories are getting trapped within yourself. Your nervous system may have gotten stuck in the past at a few points in time, but while you remain living in the action, your biggest symptom is nightmares and anxiety that you brush off each time.

The same can’t be said for your Captain.

Price, with his two decades of service, has lived through more than you could ever imagine and things he wishes to not recall. He plays the classic tough guy act, brushing his emotions off as something he can deal with when he’s home and not deployed- nor does he want to even believe they are necessary to process, his ways still being a bit old-fashioned.

When you were recruited, his viewpoint shifted a bit. Price wasn’t sure that you would be a good fit within the team, and debated putting you on a platoon further down the branch that he still oversaw from time to time. Yet, during your grace period, he would check up on you- being sure to debrief with you after long days of training exercises or drills that were getting harder and harder. When you had proven your worth to him and the team, an unspoken agreement between you two was formed. You would casually reside in his presence but keep it under the notion of him offering guidance to the rookie. This often resulted in you filling out reports or paperwork on your laptop in his office while he worked at his desk.

Price was not a sharer of his inner turmoil. But, sometimes, you would confide in him and he would allow a sliver of a softer man to peak out in the late hours of the night.

That's how the deeper part of your relationship worked with him. Hard-ass by day, and a mildly reserved man by late night. You’re close with the entirety of the team, but you’ve always had an attraction to Price, classically never trying to show it or verbalize it to anyone. Yet, you had a good hunch that he already knew from your softened behavior towards him when the veil of superior and subordinate came down to friends in the dark glow of his office.

You knew it was a bad idea to ever indulge yourself in having his attention and reciprocating it, but now you over-indulged for the last year and find yourself with a cavity at the sweetness you suck from his words. Your mind is always left in a trance on any touch he unknowingly spoiled you with; a hand to the small of your back, adjusting your elbows if you were using a heavier loadout during training, or a pat on the head after a job well done.

Tonight, the storm rolls in with thunder chasing right behind it. 

It's late in the evening as you stand in the common room, having had dinner late, and washing the dishes while quietly humming to yourself. The subconscious part of your mind notices the flashes of lightning and deep thunder that penetrate the barriers of the base but leaving it as a non-threat. You wash your dinner plate, moving the sponge around, but before you can put the plate down to dry, your phone rings with a call from Price. 

It's not unusual for him to call when he decides he’d like your presence while completing paperwork, yet your eyebrows furrow as you see the time to be later in the night than his usual request.

Before you can even speak into the phone after answering, your ear is polluted with the sound of his ragged breaths; the sound of rain hitting the ground is amplified more than what you hear while being inside. It sends a roll of skin-prickling anxiety down your spine as your eyes widen. “Price?” You ask after a blink, trying to understand what this call could be.

You hear it when he speaks, a tremor in the back of his throat and you can imagine the adrenaline-crazed look on his face. The sound of your name is called from him, and it almost sounds questioning, as if he isn't sure it's you, even though he called.

“I- I don’t know where I am…” He pants out, sounding choked up, trying to swallow air and the lack of saliva in his throat while in the pouring rain.

Drop everything now

Without a second thought, you drop the plate, the clatter of it breaking once hitting the ground echoes in the common room and snaps everyone's attention on you. Not having any need for apologies or reason, your body is already supplying the adrenaline needed to set into a dead sprint out of the common room as you weave past the other bodies to push through the hallway and enter the stairwell with the clamor of the metal doors swinging open.

“John, where are you- tell me what you see.” You call out as your body gets set on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs of the barracks and onto the ground floor moving into the hallways. “Do you see the training yard or do you see a road?” You pant out while pushing to find the exit door of the base.

It's here and now, that you now actively recognize the roll and clap of thunder as if it's taunting you to hurry up and find Price before it does.

But it seems it already has.

Each door, person, and corner you pass feels like a deliberate obstacle, frustrating you as you try to get outside faster.

“I- I see a road and the-” He’s interrupted by a bright flash, a strong shake of thunder following right after, and you hear him grunt in aggravation at the sound he lacks control over. With a call of your name, he makes a quiet plea. “Please, I need you here. Now.” He manages to ground out with a sharp breath, causing you to almost second guess yourself at what he said. 

You bank a hard left, towards the East entrance, finding the door to take you outside towards the main road that leads to the base's entrance. Shouldering the large door, you grit your teeth while taking the metal harshly against yourself, but almost come to a halt when you feel the pouring rain pelt on your body.

Meet me in the pouring rain

“Please.” His voice shakes again through the phone, and the rasp from his panting re-escalates the adrenaline through your body.

It breaks your heart to hear him sound like this as if he’s succumbing to his demons. “John, I’m gonna find you but you need to help me, ok?” You ask as your legs begin to burn from the force that you run through the damp earth with. “-you see the flag pole? ” You bark out while another flash of lightning crosses the sky, closing your eyes as you wince. “Hey- listen to me, focus on me.” You command, praying that he isn’t locked inside his memories.

After a moment, “Y- Yes, I see it. The- the rains comin’ down hard- won't fucking stop.”

The shake in his voice is back; he’s shivering and his irritability is beginning to build up faster as it makes itself evident the longer he stays held within the turmoil of his nervous system.

Running and finally entering the main yard after having had to cut through the detached buildings to make it to the front, you place your free hand over your eyes to try and gain some semblance of visibility while the flashes of lightning aid for a moment.

“Meet me there. It’ll be just you and me, only us.” You pleaded with a hint of firmness, needing to direct him as you move with haste towards the lit flagpole, the light being a beacon through the pelting rain.

While running in the dark and wet ground, you lose footing and slide your foot into loose gravel; your right elbow is now scraped while you clatter to the ground with a “Fuck-” Your voice breaks through the night air, as your yelp of pain staccatos out in the silence between the flash of light and complimenting rumble of thunder. 

In a moment before you can stand up, you hear your name being yelled out, whipping your head up in response. The raw tenacity of his voice through the thrumming of rainfall hits when there is no other force of the storm that can distract either of you.

Your gazes find each other; he looks frozen for a moment, then immediately runs to you.

“John-“ falls past your lips in a cry when you spot him. His fatigues stick to his body, his hair wet and bucket hat long gone. Making his way hurriedly, his body slows with unexpected grace as he helps you to your feet. Almost as if in a hurried frenzy, you latch onto him by his arms, blinking through the falling rain as you look up and search his face. 

The expression he wears, as he makes sure you’re alright, contradicts the voice he had just seconds earlier; his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he checks over you, quickly placing his large hands on your ribs to stand you upright as if you are a toddler who has just taken a tumble.

“Bloody- You alrigh’ sweetheart?” He asks as the warmth of his panting breath fans across your face while pulling you up against him.

“I’m ok, I just slipped from the rain. Thank you.” You speak while still holding him tight, latching onto him. Your heart aches at seeing him care for you no matter where his mind places him, always putting others before himself.

John nods, letting out a small sigh. The feeling of your warmth against his chest brings him back down as he looks over you, trying to blink the anxiety and rain from his eyes. The feeling of his hands, cold and now gentle, glides up to move the wet hair from your eyes. It surprises you for a moment as he stays completely silent besides the tremoring breaths he takes.

At the silence, you let a small huff of laughter escape before closing your eyes and giving a smile in relief at having him in your sight and arms, before fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him. 

You return the gesture when you move your hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead, the rain having matted it down to his skin. “With me as I’m with you. Always with you, John.” The lull of your voice surprises both of you as it can be heard perfectly in the rain, with no sign of thunder or lightning interrupting your words. 

John cups the base of your skull, looking at the raindrops that fall in small splashes and trails along your face. His eyes dilate when focused on you, the sight of him this close and his icy blue eyes keep steadfast on you, leaving a haunting mark on your memory and heart.

He moves his head down to meet yours; pausing for a moment as if he isn't sure this is real- he isn’t sure that this isn’t a dream and his mind is granting him a wish. Is this a true trick of his mind? This can't be a memory, surely-

He looks as if he’s in pain, so you take the last leap of faith for him.

The new and added warmth of his lips on yours is tender. It contrasts the rough environment of where you stand, the life you both live and the constant battles faced within. Your arms and his alike move to wrap around each other in a harsh and tight embrace.

As the raindrops fall all over both your faces, you feel as if you’re in a movie and the climax has just hit when the lovers are united.

You both are soaking wet, but neither of you seems to mind. He pulls you back into him, deepening the kiss with a determined and desperate force.

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain.

[maggotfurby]

Kiss from a twitching Butterfly

(Ticci Toby x Crazy Caryn: a short Valentine’s special)

Written by MaggotFurby

Several months have passed, Caryn was deemed one of most reliable proxies to the Slenderman. So much so, she was classified as one of most dangerous hunters in recent times. Her skill in weaponry increased as she slashed and butchered poor unfortunate souls who dared cross her path. Total bloodshed while she laughed uncontrollably from the sounds of bones cracking from the impact of her blade; muscle tearing, and dark blood spraying on her mask just like a brush splattering paint on an art canvas.

That furthered Toby's interest in Caryn's abilities, very much he slowly started to remember… forgotten memories returning one by one.

As far as he could remember, he remembered himself being a young boy back in the 5th grade. happily being chased after by a younger girl, playing a game of tag. His running was faster than the little girl could keep up, her pink bowtie bounced as she ran behind, her light lavender dress brushed through the dried grass with several monarch butterflies dancing at the sky above her and him . Toby smiled underneath his mask when he looked back at the adorable moment whenever the little girl yelled out “Toby bear”. Toby started to believe that Caryn was the little girl who chased him around all those years ago…his once only friend.

Toby was standing, laying his back up against the tree from far away as he observed Caryn's recent murder during late night. Her insane laughter echoed through the trees at Toby's direction, making him almost want to laugh alongside her too. His body twitched as he tried to keep the laughter inside, at the same moment his heart fluttered. Toby stopped and placed his hand on his chest, thinking he had a small heart attack, it was never painful nor heavy but a warm feeling deep within him. But he couldn't feel any pain any other way. The internal desire grew and grew whenever Caryn was nearby or assigned with Toby on a hunting mission, he could not shake off the fondness he had for her. His breathing went heavier, his thoughts clouded with possible romantic scenarios playing inside his head.

It was the beginning of February, which usually means springtime was in full swing. Everyone knows whenever that season rolls around, nature has what we would like to call “Mating season”. Lustful primal urges a common action in order for life to breed and reproduce. Inside Toby's mind, definitely would be considered indescribable.

As Caryn placed her last stab on the recent victim's corpse. She took off her mask and wiped the heavy sweat from her forehead from the exhausting exercise. Her soft exhale was heard from Toby, his body lightly trembled like he was melting from her sweet voice.

His trance was interrupted when Masky walked on by around the tree Toby was laying against. made him jump up a bit.

“H-hey…! Watch it, Tim! You nearly caught me off guard there for a second”. Toby yelled out while flustered.

“Just checkin’ up on you two, it seems that Caryn made another successful kill” Masky smugly remarked as he crossed his arms.

“Yeah…She did phenomenal, I'm very impressed with her…!” Toby gladly pointed it out.

“Easy there, don't get too excited. Remember to act professional” Masky reminded him, returning to his normal flat tone.

“Just keep an eye on her.” Masky said before he walked right off to the other side of the woods.

Toby nodded and brought his attention back to Caryn, shook off the lustful thoughts, and then he closed his eyes. Another memory sparked. He was still twelve at the time, his family had to move on back to Denver, Colorado because things weren't getting any better down in Tampa, Florida. Toby was harassed and bullied in school because of his Tourette's, and his father was fired from his office job because he and another male employee got into a fist fight over a minor argument. He was intensely hungover from heavy drinking the night before.

What he could vividly remember was he was up inside his bedroom that was located on the second floor of his old house. It was moving day and the day was going along well until his father caused a heated verbal argument against his mother, his sister, a young mother and her small child. He peered through his window, witnessed shit going down as the young mother almost pulled out her phone and tried to contact the cops on Toby's father. But Connie, Toby's mother, begged the mother not to call the cops; fearing that her abusive husband would turn the situation around and make the young mother get into trouble.

At the same time, Toby heard Lyra and his father scream back and forth at each other as Lyra stormed back inside the house and called down Toby to hurry up in a panicked yet saddened voice. He pressed his hand on the glass pane on the window for the last time, seeing five year old Caryn crying in sorrow and anguish being carried away by her mother. A few repeating memories came along after, witnessing his sister dying from the fatal car accident, his father’s abuse and the fallout from his relationship with Natalie. It was unbearable. His biggest regret was not letting go of the past when Clockwork tried to help him stray away from, but to no avail. Worst comes to worse, it was Valentine’s day.

Back to reality, Toby cringed his face in anger and sadness, tightly squeezed his eyes shut to prevent any tears from spilling out. His back still held up by the tree behind him, he crossed his arms while gritting his teeth hard, trying to hold back the emotional torment he was currently in.

Caryn suddenly heard a small whimper from afar and quickly stood up, seeing Toby appeared to be in an emotional struggle.

She walked at a panicked fast pace, wondering what's going on with Toby and then walked at a reduced speed, her looking at him with great concern and confusion. His body twitched violently but Caryn reached out her hand and softly placed it on one of Toby's arms. His shaking halted almost instantly, her touch snapped him back, his face relaxed, and opened his eyes rapidly.

“C-Caryn…? is…that you? Toby quietly stuttered somberly.

“Don't worry, it's ok…I'm here, Toby. What's going on? Are you ok?” Caryn pulled off his goggles, seeing his eyes deeply red with tears.

Caryn took off her violet mask again, revealing her saddened, concerned face while her other hand carefully caressed the left side of his face. His mask covering was still on but Caryn let it loosen up and exposed his damaged scar. His teeth and gums were visible.

Toby never had anyone show their concern other than his own mother, sister and his ex, his eyes widened at her, still had tears running down.

“Is…it really…you?” Toby tried to communicate without breaking down.

Caryn's eyes widened as well, heavy tears pouring out, and all the memories all came back at that very instance. The boy… it was him… her long lost childhood friend from way back when. Caryn let go of one of her hands from Toby's arm and placed the exact one on the other side of his face.

“Toby bear…?” Caryn said in a shocked, shaky, intrigued voice.

Toby unveiled his arms and placed both his hands on her face as well…

“It really is you…” they both let go of each other and came back into a tight warm hug, both holding on to each other for dear life.

Her head buried into his shoulder, muffling her cries as Toby rested his head on her shoulder, hearing her soft whimpering. Suddenly, Toby felt several things crawling on his head and neck, a tickling sensation. He opened one eye, and saw an orange and black butterfly on Caryn's right shoulder. Realization hit him when he was lying against a tree where the migrating butterflies were emerging.

Caryn opened her eyes as well and gasped at the beautiful sight laid before them, a tree of monarch butterflies. Their heads now away from their shoulders, the butterflies flew around and crawled all over them being the curious insects they were. They looked at the flickering beauties soaring around them, representing a powerful sign which led them to their next move.

Their eyes locked on to each other, eyes began to close as they leaned in, tilted their heads, their breathing matched, and their lips finally made contact at last… Toby pulled Caryn closer to him, deepening their rough yet pleasant kiss. It felt like ages, never wanting to let go, for the first time in ages Toby finally found his comfort. Away from his lingering traumatic episodes, it was her that helped him get his self control.

They’d let go from each other to catch some air, their eyes still in contact with each other.

“...Not bad, Rogers… our first kiss seems like we've done this frequently…” Caryn brought up a smile and short laugh.

Toby shortly laughed back at her “Well, you're not too bad yourself, Trevers…!”

Toby grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled Caryn back onto him for another deep kiss. They both lowered to the ground as they continued on with their wholesome moment. felt the moment wouldn't stop.

(Thank you for reading, Happy Valentine’s day!) 🪓🪓🗡💗

[aranei-eisel]

5 Years Down The Drain

Family dinners with Lan Qiren were, well, it was hard to put into words. As the head of the family, his word was apparently law (especially since he pretty much controlled all the money and family resources). So on the third Thursday of every month, come rain, shine, snowstorm or plague, you were expected to attend, no excuses. Dinner was served exactly at 6PM.  You were expected to arrive 15 minutes early, not before or after. Greetings between the attendees would be limited though everyone was to greet Master Lan as they entered the house. You were then supposed to go straight to your assigned seat with very limited visiting. No one was to speak while they ate.  And when they were done eating, Lan Qiren would pontificate about all the things they were all doing wrong or about how they should better conduct themselves. Once they were done with the shaming, as Wei Ying called it, the alpha and beta husbands would sit about and talk while their omega and beta wives were to sit quietly. Wei Ying was convinced the wives weren’t permitted to visit because they might actually do something rebellious like laugh or have independent thoughts. Everyone would then be dismissed at 8:30PM whereupon you were expected to leave immediately. It felt like they were being dragged a bit further back into the middle ages month by month. The family dinners at Lotus Pier had been so very different. Everyone turned up when they did, It didn't matter if you were a little early or a lot late. They talked and argued and laughed and celebrated birthdays and achievements. They drank and ate late into the night.  When they left, it was always with hugs and kisses and promises to see each other again. And even though most of it hadn’t been meant for him, he had enjoyed the happy loving atmosphere.  

Wei Ying double checked himself in the mirror. He made certain his collar sat just right, that all the seams were in the right place, that the buttons lay property across the fabric of his shirt and that his pant legs sat properly over his shoes. He then ran a comb through his hair and a clothes  brush over his shirt one more time because he didn’t need a lecture. He then went to wait in the foyer. As soon as he arrived, he checked his watch. 5:17PM. That gave him three minutes to worry that Lan Wangji would disapprove of his appearance. Precisely at 5:20PM Lan Wangji arrived wearing a medium blue mandarin shirt and dark blue pants. Wei Ying gave him a tense smile, “You look nice.” Lan Wangji gave him a once over that always left him feeling inadequate. The alpha said nothing as he turned and headed out the door to get in the car. Wei Ying closed his eyes as he let out the breath he was holding. As Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, he assumed he passed inspection.  

The drive to Lan Qiren’s was only ten minutes but Lan Wangji wanted to be exactly on time so they wouldn’t be scolded by his Uncle. He had it timed out. Every month on the third Thursday, they would leave the house at 5:20PM. It would take approximately five minutes for them to walk to the car, get in and put on their seatbelts. If it took less time, Lan Wangji would fiddle with something in the car so that the car would pull out of the driveway at exactly 5:25PM. 

The drive through the sedate streets of Cloud Recesses was silent. Lan Wangji didn’t like to play music in the car and he had made it clear he didn’t like Wei Ying’s ‘mindless inane chatter’. So Wei Ying interlaced his fingers in his lap to keep from fidgeting and stared out the window. He tried not to think about the crappy state of his existence, but it was hard when this was one of the few outings he was allowed. 

Lan Wangji didn’t really talk to him or have much to do with him unless he had to.  He did provide things. Wei Ying had good food, a warm bed and nice clothes. The house had a large library, exercise room and TV room. Lan Wangji had an archery range and an art studio built for him. He had also gifted him a couple of rabbits. But as much as he loved Bian and Chen, they weren’t people. So, it wasn’t that Lan Wangji didn’t provide, it was what he didn’t allow. Wei Ying was confined to the house and grounds. He wasn’t permitted to have visitors. He wasn’t permitted use of a phone or a computer. All his correspondence was subject to scrutiny. The house had some staff, but apparently they had been told not to befriend the young omega boy. The only time he was allowed to leave the house was with Lan Wangji and then only if his presence was required. And while on these limited outings he wasn’t permitted to socialize. So here he was in the car dreading one of the few social events he was required to attend. 

As they arrived at Lan Qiren’s house, they joined the little line of cars heading into the parking area. Lan Wangji, as usual, had timed it perfectly. They had five minutes from the time they parked to make it to the front door. Wei Ying smiled at the various Uncles, aunts and cousins as they formed a line to enter the house. He knew their names, how they were all related and the things that Lan Qiren had called them out on, but little else. It felt sad that after all this time as a member of the Lan family, they were nothing more than names and faces, not even acquaintances.

Wei Ying had gotten used to the look of tolerance on Master Lan’s face. It was probably a good thing he didn’t need to say much as he bowed to the old man and waited. He only had to count to ten this time before he was allowed to rise. He swallowed hard as he wondered if that meant something. He then slowly made his way to the table smiling amicably at those he passed. He wanted so very much to talk to them, anything to have a conversation. 

Wei Ying allowed himself to notice the sounds of the meal as it was served. The quiet footsteps of the servants, the light thud of dishes being placed on the table, the tapping sounds of the chopsticks. He covered the sounds of others eating and drinking with his own which was difficult because he wanted nothing to do with the food. As usual it was bland with a strange medicinal quality. The only redeeming part was the small portions. 

As soon as the plates had been cleared from the table, Master Lan started in. Wei Ying listened blithely as some poor cousin, Lan Fang he thought, was dressed down for something stupid, like wearing brown shoes when he should have worn black. It was just by luck that Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s new baby fussed loudly. Everyone’s attention was drawn instantly. Wei Ying was on his feet before anyone asked. He grabbed the baby bag tucked against the wall. When he came close, he couldn’t help but stare at the newborn. Something deep inside Wei Ying ached. It called to each and everyone of his natural instincts. 

Meng Yao smiled at the look of longing on Wei Ying’s face. “Would you like to hold him?” 

“May I?” Wei Ying couldn’t tear his eyes off the baby. 

“Of course.”  Meng Yao held out the baby for him.

Wei Ying quickly grabbed a chair and sat down before he took the baby into his arms. Lan Rusong settled perfectly in the crook of his arm and stared up at him in that out-of-focus way of a newborn. He nuzzled the baby closely drawn in by his scent. Wei Ying felt a pang in his chest that he had to work hard to swallow down. He smiled as he whispered. “You are a very handsome and sweet boy.” He was so taken by the baby that someone had to tap his shoulder for him to notice that someone was saying his name.

"Wei Ying," Old man Lan called his name sharply.

Wei Ying looked up in surprise at the sudden sound of his name. It had been some time since anyone had spoken to him in that tone. He looked around at the group until he saw Lan Qiren staring at him. He mentally sighed thinking that old man could ruin anything. "Yes Uncle."

Lan Qiren had a sour look on his face. "You have been married for 5 years. Why have you not given Wangji a child?" 

Wei Ying stared back at Lan Qiren for a few seconds before he turned his attention to Meng Yao. “Congratulations, he really is a beautiful baby.” Wei Ying handed Lan Rusong back to his mother.    

Lan Qiren's face went a bit red with anger. "Wei Ying, I asked you a question."

Wei Ying cast an eye about the room to see everyone looking at him, glad the spotlight wasn’t on them. He was already aware that Master Lan did not care for him. He didn’t need this and he damn well didn’t deserve it. Instead of answering the question, Wei Ying tried his best to shut the conversation down. “Uncle, that is not a public conversation, but something between myself and my husband.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed as he kept his focus on the young omega. “As head of this family it is very much my business. Is it possible you are doing too many other things that you do not pay enough attention to your husband?”

Lan Qiren really had no idea what he was talking about but the remark still hit home, hard. Wei Ying knew his cheeks were flushed, his stomach churned and he felt tears beginning to form. He longed to tell the truth, but he bit his tongue. Their precious Wangji wouldn’t be thought to be at fault. There were so many things he could say, wanted to say, but he knew that it was likely that he would be the only one hurt. The old man would find a way to make it his fault. Wei Ying took a breath before turning to his husband.

Lan Wangji was doing his best to keep his face neutral.  At this moment, he wanted to be anywhere else. To say he felt panicked was an understatement. He knew he should defend his spouse, but if his Uncle learned the truth of their marriage, he would never hear the end of it. He didn't have any idea what to say or how to make this stop so he just sat there watching it unfold.

Wei Ying clenched his jaw and held himself steady. He had thought he was learning to harden his heart on this matter, learning to distance himself, but the tightness in his chest proved otherwise. He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't going to apologize and he wasn't going to be berated anymore. Lan Wangji's silence was more than clear. He was alone like he always was, but then he already knew that.

 Lan Qiren took Lan Wangji's silence as confirmation of his assertion. "I demand that you provide more attention to your husband. You should be available to him at all times."

Wei Ying literally held the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he stood up. There were so many things he wanted to tell both Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji to do with themselves. But he was better than that so he took a deep breath before he spoke. "I have already stated that this is something between myself and my husband. It is rather impolite of you to bring up such a private matter and turn it into a public spectacle."

“As head of this family, what is public and what is private is for me to decide.” Lan Qiren stressed the last three words before continuing. "We will discuss this later. Now sit down and be quiet."

"No, I won’t sit down and I won’t be quiet." Wei Ying was embarrassed beyond measure but he wasn’t going to let this slide. "In fact, I am going to be loud. This matter is solely a private matter between Lan Wangji and myself. It has never been and never will be yours or anyone else’s business.”

Lan Qiren’s face was red with anger as he stood up. His voice boomed, “That is enough from you. Wangji, you need to get your omega in line.”

Wei Ying stamped his foot. “It is nowhere near enough. I demand that you apologize for embarrassing us in front of the family."

Lan Qiren roared back, “I will do no such thing. You should be available to your husband 24 hours a day. If you weren't gallivanting about, you would no doubt have provided your husband with a child by now."

Wei Ying twitched with the want to scream the truth. “You are nothing but a bully.” 

Lan Qiren began to move toward him in a threatening manner. "I demand that you apologize to me right here right now."

Wei Ying glared at Lan Qiren before turning to glare at Lan Wangji. "I have nothing to apologize for." Wei Ying didn’t look back as he walked out of Lan Qiren's house with the old man yelling at him to return.

Although Lan Wangji had driven him there, Wei Ying wasn't inclined to wait. The two mile walk to their home helped ease some of his pain, tired him out and allowed him to sort his thoughts. He didn't immediately go into the house but sat in the backyard next to the koi pond.  He had been there about ten minutes when he heard quiet footsteps behind him. He suddenly felt defensive, "I'm not apologizing."

Lan Wangji held himself stiffly. “Uncle demands that I punish you.”

Wei Ying made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry as he kept his focus on the koi pond.

Lan Wangji swallowed before he spoke with a soft voice, "I am not asking you to apologize to Uncle."

With everything coming to a head, Wei Ying felt it was time for him to demand an answer. "Can I at least know why?"

Lan Wangji gave him what Wei Ying recognized as a guilty look. “Uncle was wrong.” 

Wei Ying sighed. “I meant all of it. Everything since the day we were married.”

"I.." Lan Wangji hesitated. His Uncle had always been dismissive of his thoughts and feelings and the things he wanted. He had learned to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, buried, because they didn’t matter to others.  As a result, he didn’t know how to communicate those things well. "I didn’t want this marriage. I didn’t want to be married to someone I didn’t know. I  tried to tell Uncle that I wasn’t ready to be married. Uncle said it was my duty. He also said that he knew better and that I was not to question him.” 

Wei Ying took a few deep breaths trying to calm himself but he couldn't stop the tears. 

Lan Wangji moved so that he could see Wei Ying’s face. "Why are you crying?"

Wei Ying closed his eyes and took a calming breath before he stood up. "Because I'm upset and tired. I have absolutely no one to talk to. Yesterday was my 21st birthday and, like always, there  was nothing, not even a simple happy birthday. Your Uncle does nothing but insult me every chance he gets while you just sit there. And at the end of this crappy day, like every day for the last 5 years, I'm alone." Wei Ying looked up at the man he was married to. "And I am so very tired of being alone." 

Lan Wangji stared at Wei Ying, noticing his red, puffy eyes. The hurt of it all was clearly written on the omega’s face. He truly felt bad and completely at fault, but he literally had no idea what to do or say.

Wei Ying didn’t look away. “Is that all you can do? Stare at me?”

"Is there something I can do?" Lan Wangji asked with a lot of uncertainty.

Wei Wuxian wiped at his face with hand. "Yeah, time travel back and stop yourself from marrying me."

The stunned look on Lan Wangji's face made Wei Ying chuckle.  "Oh come on. you can't tell me you wouldn't if you could. Marry someone you don't hate."

"I don't hate you," Lan Wangji said with confusion.

Wei Ying wagged a finger at him, "Lying in Cloud Recesses is forbidden."

"I am not lying," Lan Wangji declared and then spoke with confusion. "I've never hated you."

Wei Wuxian laughed, "Could have fooled me."

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" 

Wei Ying blinked at Lan Wangji for a moment trying to decide if he was for real. "You speak to me maybe once a month, twice if I am lucky, and mostly to express your disapproval. You have told me not to speak because you don’t like my inane chatter. You don’t seem to care if I’m happy or sad or well, anything. In all this time you have never hugged me or kissed me or..anything else. The one time you held my hand was only because you were required to do so at our wedding. Not to mention your declaration that my presence was not needed in your bed. And, the only time I asked if you were going to join me for my heat, you said that you didn’t see a point."

Lan Wangji nodded as if that was all correct and proper. "Uncle has advised that these things are unimportant. They do nothing but distract you from the important things."

Wei Ying threw his hands up in the air as he made a frustrated laugh sound. "Well it all makes sense now."

"I do not understand," Lan Wangji stared at him like a deer in headlights.

Wei Ying didn't quite yell in frustration. "Of course you don't. You don’t think for yourself and your relationship director thinks kindness and human contact aren’t ‘important things’." He made air quotes as he spoke. 

Lan Wangji stared at him in such a way that Wei Ying was wondering if he broke him. He looked away. "Well, don’t worry. I won’t bother you and in a couple of years you can dissolve this relationship in accordance with the marriage agreement and no longer be married to this disgraceful omega. I will plan accordingly. All I ask is that you leave me with what little dignity I might still possess."

Lan Wangji’s voice was quiet, "Wei Ying is not disgraceful." 

"What?" Wei Ying asked with surprise. 

"I said Wei Ying is not disgraceful," the Alpha said a bit louder.  

Wei Ying stared at Lan Wangji for a long moment. All he could see was this very awkward man who didn’t know what to say, who may have never known what to say. It hit him then that Lan Wangji was just another victim of Lan Qiren’s abuse, maybe more than anyone else as the man had raised him.  It was impulse that drove him forward. Wei Ying stepped quickly toward Lan Wangji, grabbed his face and kissed him. It probably would have helped if he knew what he was doing but he gave it all he had. 

Lan Wangji was startled by the hands on his face and the soft lips pressed against his. For a few seconds he was too shocked to move but something inside finally pushed him into action.  He instinctively put his hands on Wei Ying's tiny waist and moved his lips in imitation of the ones pressed against him. It seemed that the kiss had barely started when Wei Ying pulled away. “Why?”

Wei Ying blushed, “Because when this blows up and is all said and done, no one kind or decent is going to want me. At least I can say I’ve kissed someone.” He turned away and headed toward the house quickly. 

They tingled. His lips tingled, pleasantly in a way he wouldn't have imagined. Lan Wangji reached up and touched his lips as he watched Wei Ying walk away.

[riribug4]

Blog Post 5

Part one: the four square exercise

Part two: Artwork Analysis

A “Woman with a Parasol” by Claude Monet is an oil painting created in 1875 during the impressionist movement. The painting is of his wife Camille-Léonie and their first son Jean Monet. The two figures are seen standing in a green lush flower field. The upper two-thirds of the background are taken up by a bright blue sky and clouds. Monet's intent with this painting was to capture a beautiful family scene, as well as the gorgeous landscape. Monet uses a triangular structural composition to help create perspective, and brush strokes to create movement. It looks like monet painted this from a low vantage point looking up at his wife creating a beautiful sight, almost like a paused moment in time. By using a triangular composition it draws the focal point to Camille’s face. Through simplified detail, and energetic brush strokes he was able to capture this fleeting moment, making it spontaneous and real. Movement plays a very powerful role in making this painting so stunning. The scenery comes to life. You can tell it’s a beautiful, windy, sunny day by the flowyness of her dress, flowers blowing in the wind, and the direction of the clouds. He was able to capture this movement by using sporadic dashes and brush strokes. Claude Monet’s “Woman with a Parasol” is one of my all time favorite paintings. The scene is so wonderfully captured I truthfully feel like I'm seeing the moment with my own eyes. 

[marblery]

Maintaining and Caring for Your Acrylic Aquarium

Caring for an acrylic aquarium involves a specific set of maintenance practices that help preserve its clarity and appearance while ensuring a healthy environment for aquatic life. While acrylic aquariums boast several advantages over glass, they do require careful handling to prevent scratches and maintain their pristine condition.

The first step to effective maintenance is regular cleaning. Unlike glass, acrylic can be more prone to scratching, so using the right tools is essential. Soft, non-abrasive cleaning pads and acrylic-safe cleaning solutions are recommended to avoid damage. It's crucial to avoid using paper towels, scrub brushes, or any cleaning products not specifically designed for acrylic, as they can easily scratch the surface.

Preventing algae buildup is another critical aspect of acrylic tank maintenance. Despite its clarity, algae can cloud acrylic surfaces and diminish the viewing experience. Regularly using an acrylic-safe algae magnet or scraper can help control algae growth without scratching the tank walls. Setting up a routine cleaning schedule and being proactive can significantly reduce the effort required in keeping the tank algae-free.

Water quality plays a crucial role in maintaining both the appearance of the aquarium and the health of its inhabitants. Regularly testing water parameters such as pH, ammonia, nitrite, and nitrate levels is essential. Utilizing a reliable filtration system is equally important to ensure clear water and a healthy environment for the fish and plants.

In addition to regular cleaning, controlling the external environment around the tank can help protect the acrylic. Positioning the aquarium away from direct sunlight prevents the growth of algae and the potential warping of the acrylic due to heat exposure. Also, ensuring that the aquarium is on a sturdy, level surface helps distribute the weight evenly and prevents stress on the tank seams.

While scratches are a common concern with acrylic aquariums, minor scratches can often be repaired アクリル水槽. Scratch-removal kits specifically designed for acrylic can buff out superficial damage. For deeper scratches, professional repair might be necessary. Taking preventative measures, such as avoiding sharp decorations inside the tank and exercising caution when cleaning, can help minimize the risk of scratches.

Lighting is another consideration in maintaining an acrylic aquarium. LED lights are often recommended due to their low heat emission, energy efficiency, and ability to enhance the visual appeal of the aquarium without contributing to algae growth. Proper lighting not only showcases the vibrant colors of your aquatic life but also plays a role in the overall health of the ecosystem.

In summary, while acrylic aquariums require special attention to prevent scratches, their maintenance is relatively straightforward with the right practices in place. Regular cleaning with appropriate materials, ensuring optimal water quality, and being mindful of external environmental factors are key to enjoying the benefits of an acrylic aquarium. With the proper care, an acrylic aquarium can remain a stunning centerpiece in any room for years to come.

[johnsmith6801]

What Makes Holi Color Powder So Fun?

Have you ever seen people throwing colorful dust at each other and having fun? That's what happens during Holi, a special festival in India. People use special powders to paint each other in bright colors. This festival is all about joy, friendship, and saying goodbye to winter. Everyone, young and old, joins in the fun. The streets become full of laughter and bright colors as people celebrate together.

What is Holi Color Powder?

These special powders are called Holi color powder. They come in many different colors like red, blue, green, and yellow. Color Powder makes these fun powders that people use to celebrate. This company is special because they care about your safety and fun. Color Powder 

makes their powders skin-friendly, which means they're gentle on your skin and won't cause itching or rashes. The colors are non-toxic, so you don't have to worry if a little gets in your mouth by accident. Color Powder uses natural ingredients to create their vibrant colors, making them safe for people and better for the environment. They offer many bright shades that are easy to wash off after the fun is over. When you throw these powders, they make the air look magical and colorful. People love to mix different colors to create new shades. It's like painting, but instead of a canvas, you're coloring the world around you! With Colour Powder, you can enjoy the festival without any worries.

The Magic of Color Clouds

The powder is very fine, like dust. When you throw it in the air, it makes a pretty cloud of color. It's easy to wash off your skin and clothes after playing with it. This powder is so light that it can float in the air for a little while. It's fun to watch it swirl around before it settles. The powder feels soft when it lands on your skin. It's not like regular paint that feels wet and sticky.

Fun Ways to Use Color Powder

You can use this powder in many ways. Some people put it in small bags and throw them at their friends. Others mix it with water to make colorful paint. You can even use it to make artwork on paper! Some people like to gently pat the powder onto their friends' faces to make funny designs. You can also sprinkle it in your hair for a cool, colorful look. The possibilities are endless when you get creative with color powder.

Safety First with Holi Colors

Holi color powder is safe to use. It's made from things that won't hurt your skin or eyes. But it's always a good idea to be careful and not get it in your mouth or eyes. The powder is usually made from natural materials like cornstarch or rice flour. Some powders even have nice smells added to them, like lavender or rose. Even though it's safe, it's smart to wear old clothes when playing with color powder because it might stain your favorite shirt!

Colorful Celebrations Beyond Holi

Playing with color powder isn't just for Holi. People use it at fun runs, music festivals, and birthday parties too. It makes any event more exciting and colorful. At color runs, runners get covered in powder as they race. It makes exercise more fun! At music festivals, people throw powder in the air to the beat of the music. It's like a rainbow dancing party! For birthdays, you can use color powder for fun games or to make cool pictures.

Easy Clean-Up After the Fun

When you're done playing with the powder, it's easy to clean up. You can brush it off your clothes and wash your skin with soap and water. The colors will come right off. If some powder gets stuck in your hair, don't worry! A good shampoo will take care of it. It's a good idea to shake out your clothes outside before washing them. This way, you don't make a colorful mess in your washing machine. Some people even save a little bit of the powder on their skin as a fun reminder of their colorful day.

Respecting Others While Having Fun

Remember to have fun and be respectful when playing with color powder. It's a great way to celebrate with friends and family, but make sure everyone wants to join in before you throw colors at them. Some people might not want to get messy, and that's okay. You can still have fun by watching or helping others throw colors. The most important thing is to spread happiness and enjoy the bright, beautiful colors together. Color powder can bring people together and create wonderful memories that last long after the colors have washed away.

[notsmearfree]

Fourteenth in the fifth month of the year it is still spring

Writing this entry before I fall sleep and miss more days. I thought about this during my sunbathing. I woke up late on the second day of the week it was one in the afternoon I could've slept for longer but I made myself get up, I had an email to send. I brushed my teeth and washed my face and I sent my email. I found my new preferred short glass on the sill and filled it with ice. I washed over the ice with the Celsius from the night before. I put my headphones and sunscreen and phone in my bag and walked with my towel outside, to remember there was still construction ongoing. The bottle kissed my hands and I spread sunscreen over myself, over and over in tedium. I returned to my room for pretty sunglasses and came out to lay myself on a towel over uneven tiles.

Go Black keys I set an hour on my phone. The sun was intercepted by clouds and my brain cleared. I thought about being close to the world again and what the personification is. I think about this afternoon again and it feels like a dream. It was lovely. It was as lovely as love gets. It was the physical feeling you open your mouth, position your hands to express but it never comes. It gets stuck in your brain receptors, over and over. Music plays on. It's the type of love and clarity that clears your brain and you realize how your mornings rush and continue, not walk. It's the kind of sun that makes you look past your expressions and realize it's all just ego, and life is just the return to self. It's the kind of sun that stretches out, over and over and over across the manifestation of time, on Earth. Everything stops and you lay in the sun and feel and feel forever. And you wonder, how could life feel so good. And you wonder, how could I forget how wonderful it is to be outside and to live. Later when you walk back in the house, you think about the ultimate joy of life, to be alive. You think of the life forms the sun helps grow out of the ground. Plants.. but there has to be something more. The sun is exceptional. It spreads in the sky and touches beyond the dirt. You get stuck in the moment, trying to siphon the love from the sun, across your laptop. You think of all the love the sun has to give. You never want to get out.

The sun is exciting. You extend your time twenty minutes and stretch but I'm already tired. Nothing is more exciting than thinking of coming into contact with your body, all the fibers and tendons running across your body. I love the idea of using more and more of your body, especially over time. I want to stretch forever.

I am inside and I shower and it feels like an exercise and by the time I am out I feel weak. The sun is like that. But maybe I haven't eaten enough in the past hours. I get ready and I feel clean again. Wellness is status. I had stepped into the shower and my thoughts continued under the water, an idea that had touched me before. My weekends and weeks have been full lately, and it made me think of my prior summers, empty and empty. It was a lovely feeling. To think I could change so much to take in new people and habits and hobbies and places, to create a life. Before I entered the water my cousin asked me out to a Marlins game for the weekend and a glance at the date softly reminded me of something, then I recalled I had an upcoming concert that day. I thought about it, and I decided to go to the game. I love my friends and going out and concerts are lovely but somehow when I go out with them, often no matter the place and how much I enjoy them, there seems to be a component missing from my enjoyment. I never really know what it is, but hanging with my cousin and his girlfriend brings it to me, even if there's always more people. And a new experience is always fun. I'm happy with my choice. I have to buy a ticket for either event anyways. It reminded me, around a second time, that a young life brings expenses and spendings at every bend. The idea is a little lovely in itself, but it exhausts my credit. I have hundreds waiting to fall back to zero. I don't really worry about it. Maybe I should. I enjoy that I do not have to.

I make breakfast and respond to my friend. I get tired and lay in my bed in my cluttered room and my dad comes home a few minutes later and I get up to continue with my day.

I go to Best Buy to follow up with my laptop. I argue with my boyfriend on my phone. In the parking lot, my Celsius drink annoys me with its uselessness. By the time I leave I'm filled with a subtle anger. It's easy for me to push things away to start or continue working. Mostly if I don't think about it. I don't stop to think about things like that. It's distracting and leads way into too much wasteful emotion and I don't have time for that and I can use my time for something better. Lately I realize I misplace my emotions and driving back from Daniela's later I think about how easy it is for me to shut down emotion to complete my goals. I did it namely with my eating disorder, I did it when I got high all the time,...

It's just efficient. Emotions are inefficient. And I can almost always ignore my body when I need to get something done. It's sort of a proud spot, if I look it's a sad accomplishment. It's what I try to accomplish with feeling my emotions, I try to reach balance and health by giving myself compassion and chance while I work. But sometimes I'm impatient, and sometimes I'm rough, and sometimes I only want results no matter what, and I know how to get it done. Results can be empty. Sometimes results and accomplishments frustrate me, and I don't want them at all, and I start over in my life, all over again. It keeps happening.

I drive to Daniela's and she upsets me and I'm upset all over again. I start journaling while she eats, and eventually we go upstairs to start organizing her office. I'm still annoyed but it subsides over the hour. We get some things done. I think she feels a little better. She seems to always need my help organizing, which I can never really get. Max sits in a box. I go home with a Los Angeles sign and a blue tennis bag. I return to set everything on my cluttered bed, I make another appointment, I open my laptop, I brush my teeth. Here I finish today's tale, of my short-lived day. I keep getting angry a lot. I think about how I'd be conscious of it during the early semester and placed thoughts and roadblocks to decrease it all. I need to start doing that again. I'm too tired to clean my room. It sucks I haven't cleaned it yet. I'll get it over with in the next two days. Likely Thursday. There's a lot to get done.

Eleven twelve.

[fairysluna]

because there isn’t enough soft!harwin, i’d like to request harwin trying to teach reader how to fight but they end up being silly and play fighting :)

i think i change the plot a little, but i really hope you like this anyway!!🤍

Your body fell to the ground, forming a cloud of dust in the air as you groaned. You looked upon your opponent and noticed the smug grin on his face, making you roll your eyes. He stretched his arm and offered you his hand for you to take, but your pride was big enough to not let him help you, so you just stood up on your own, shook the dust off your clothing and grabbed the hilt of your sword, getting ready to fight against him once again. This time, though, you hope you wouldn't humiliate yourself.

"I know you can do better than that," Harwin teasingly said, the charming smile never leaving his lips as he chuckled in the low watching your eyebrows furrowed and your lips pursuing with annoyance towards his playful words. You sighed, already feeling the exhaustion of the exercise you have been doing for two hours already. You were not ready to give up yet, but Harwin did not bend and was reluctant to give you a victory, even when it was a mere training session. "Your real opponents will never let themselves lose because you, my lady, threw a tantrum," he had told you, seconds before you lifted your sword and tried to smack it against him, failing miserably.

It hit right in the middle of his shield, and you used so much strength in your swing that it ended up being stuck in the wood. Harwin smirked as he pushed you gently, an action that caught you off guard and made you fall back to the dirt. You whined, softly, but before you could react any further, Harwin threw the shield with the sword, and lifted your body up without major effort, as if you were the lightest thing on Earth. You gasped out of impression, feeling his strong hands surrounding your tired and sweaty frame. Your fastened breathing smacking against his plump lips, as the proximity between your bodies was growing. Your shoes were barely touching the ground as he held you so tight against his armor. His deep brown eyes fixed on your face, drawing a path from your eyes to your lips and vice versa.

"You're such a competitive little thing, aren't ya?" He whispered, his nose brushing against yours as his rebel curls caressed your warm cheeks in such a soothing way. Sparkling eyes staring back at him, unconsciously begging for what your heart was longing for. One of his hands grabbed the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin of your throat as he smiled in such a tempting way that made your knees weak. "I know what you want, my lady," he told you, murmuring. "and I'm willing to give it to you… just if you win in the next round."

With those words he let your frame go, and you opened your eyes as you woke up from the trance that he put you in. Once again you had been a victim of those puppy brown eyes, so charming, chivalry and kind. So loving, and devoting. You clenched your jaw as he laughed, your cheeks burning at this point while the butterflies flew uncontrollably around your belly. Inevitably, a subtle smile appeared on your face, for you were unable to hold it back; that was the effect he always had on you. You bit your lip and you grabbed your sword after pulling it out of the shield, your body turning into a fight position.

"Go on, I know you can do it, love," he cheered you up. And so you swing your sword one more time… it was a weak and ineffective movement the one you performed, and still you managed to win. Once Harwin pressed his lips against yours in such a hungry and passionate way, you realized that he had let himself lose.

But you did not complain.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @arcielee @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1

HARWIN TAG LIST — @hb8301 @megatardisbaby

[milkycarnations]

The Creeps Helping You with Depression

cw: depression symptoms described

Masky

Makes you a meal 3x a day. Gives you healthy snacks too.

Offers to give you massages.

Tries to get you to do one thing everyday: eating, watching a movie, getting dressed, etc.

Hoodie

Cleans your depression room. Makes you brush your teeth, take a shower, etc. He will carry you to the bathroom.

He's that person who opens the curtains do you get enough sunlight.

Tries to take you out. Even if you're just laying down in the woods and watching the clouds pass.

Ben

Always by your side 100 percent of the time. He's your own personal streamer and will let you watch him play anything. Bonus points if you play a multiplayer game with him.

Knows the effects of social media on humans and encourages you to step away.

Y'all make homemade pizzas together.

Jeff

Cuddles all the way. He usually naps a lot but he'll try to get you to stay awake and stimulated with him ( unless you're the insomniac type).

Puts on a ton of movies. You'll binge watch together.

Will get into the shower and wash your back.

Liu

Asks you to help him with his plants so you have something to do. Even gets you to raise your own so your plant can grow with you.

He has you meditate and do yoga with him.

Probably sings you to sleep.

Jack

A little more pragmatic about things. Offers to steal find medication for you.

Probably forces you to get up and get a little exercise, even if you hate it. Of course, he'll be walking with you the entire way.

Keeps you hydrated during your darkest, sweatiest moments. After the depressive episode, helps you prevent regressing.

Toby

Puts you in the most comfortable pajamas and gives you the nicest blankets.

Y'all get fast food, but he gives you some of his too. If you can't eat it well, he still is thankful that you've tried.

Jams out to music with you and smokes weed.

[bellsnuit]

Taking my mind control

Summary: After spending minutes vividly imagining how you would feel fucking Wanda, you leave the meeting to solve the problem in your center. To your surprise, Wanda wasn't going to leave you alone.

Pairing: Soft! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: sex, Telepathic sex, masturbation, face-fucking, Vaginal fingering, finger sucking, oral sex, smut, fluff, angst, mutual masturbation, scissoring

Words: 1.6k.

I had to pay attention, or at least pretend. However, my head sometimes seemed to cloud over and I had those wild thoughts again. I could see her, and I could even feel her. She was sitting on my lap, with her beautiful black skirt and brown hair. Both on my bed, and her hands caressing my fully clothed body. I just wanted to rip her clothes off and keep kissing her, I wanted to run my hands around her tiny waist and slam her against me, bounce our middles, shake our legs, and fuck her up to her legs. I wanted her moans, I wanted to feel her words drowning in my pussy.

Ever since Wanda had arrived, I had always seen her attractive. At first, I didn't trust her but I saw her attractive, now I see her attractive, I trust her and I want to fuck her. I could even remember when was the last time I could get so turned on after imagining things.

However, this seemed different. It seemed so real, she seemed so interested in me and I was even imagining things that were outside of my ideas. I had never in my life believed that I would feel attraction to a woman, but having her in front of me, seeing how she moved her hands and her legs crossed, did nothing but give me ideas of how I could fuck her.

The image in my mind became more powerful and my center was already wet enough "I'm sorry. I have to go" I quickly got up and avoiding the stares, I simply walked towards my room. I let out a gasp with a slight shaking of my legs. That vivid imagination began to fade as I had moved away, but now my chest was rising and falling remembering the rubbing of our centers against each other.

"Shit" I stifled a gasp as I sat up in bed, but I was so hungry for some reason I didn't think some breathing exercise was going to help me. I rested my hand on the bed and slid down a little, bad idea, because the moment the little pillow touched my thigh below my skirt, I groaned from the contact.

I felt stupid, but I sat back on my heels and moved the pillow between my legs. The tip of it brushed my center and with a sigh, I rose to accommodate it.

Shit Wanda, did you have to be so hot? I groaned and slid forward, resting my forearm on the bed and squeezing the pillow between my legs. The motion became more rhythmic, back and forth. I brought my hand down and the wetness had already penetrated my underwear, and as I went to cum, my head caught a movement.

I lifted my head and my chest heaved, still heaving and excited, feeling that at any moment I could have come if it hadn't been for the distraction. And my mouth almost dropped when Wanda appeared: her cheeks were dyed red all over, and she was hugging herself.

"You're very pretty" I swallowed her words and noticed how she had begun to tremble.

My head reasoned it out and I sat up, on my heels "It was you, wasn't it?"

She opened her mouth, something wrong about it "I'm sorry but-but" her words got tangled in her moans.

"I think we'd have to fix the problem we're having now" her eyes were riveted on me and my legs. My heart was beating like my core, but at different rates and she was still standing until she walked slowly. I followed her with my eyes and she sat back on her heels on the bed across from me. She slid her hand gently to mine and I watched as her black nails caressed my skin. However, it seemed that the contact spoke more than anything else because she continued until she put her hand on my thigh. I gasped as a run invaded my body and her hands played that faint red light, and I realized what it had been when my undergarment flew across my ceiling. She looked into my eyes and moved towards my lips: it was the first time I had ever kissed a woman but I sank my lips to hers as she moved closer to me. Our knees touched, both of us on them as we kissed in the center of my bed. My hands snuggled her neck but her right hand played on my thigh. "Oh Wan" the words came out halfway, but that didn't stop her finger from continuing to slide into my folds. I parted my legs, and she finished the kiss, opening her mouth slightly.

My hands went down to her collarbone and caressed there, but then I moved it down to her waist and slowly caressed as well. "You're so beautiful, too much."

"Do you think so?" her voice was so unsure, I wanted to clutch her with my arms from the world.

"Of course I do, Wanda" I forced her to look at me "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life."

She let out a little gasp "I've loved you for a long time"

"I think you fed the soul of both of us, huh"

"I think you fed the soul of both of us, huh" her fingers toyed with my lips and I swallowed hard. She seemed careful with her movements, but I lowered my hand to her crotch to do the same. I heard the first gasp and when I touched the bottom of her panties, I stirred noticing how wet she was and it had just begun. I delved my hands under her foul to her ass and digging my fingers into her buttocks, I pressed her to me. She moved closer and we combined our legs: one leg on mine bumped into her center, and another of hers might bump into mine if it weren't for her hand. I pulled her tighter to me so that my knee hit her, and I felt the slight moan. I stifled that noise with a kiss, bringing my hand up to remove her jacket, and as we parted, she removed her top as well. Her lack of a bra let me see her erect, slightly light-colored nipples and wide areolae.

For some reason, her fingers had stopped moving. She moved her hands to my legs and made me sit up. I moaned, but she sat on me.

She moved her hands again, and I gasped as the cold touched every part of my skin, leaving me alone in my old clothes: I felt so disadvantaged by not having her powers.

Still on her knees, she ran her hands down my thighs and near my buttocks, always squeezing her hands making me let out sighs. My hands went to her again, willing to go more than just the superficial but I couldn't stop thinking about how she wanted to keep rubbing me.

A smile tugged at her over my lips, and she pushed me down until I fell onto the bed. Her hands moved again and I felt the loss of my lower underwear.

"I know what you want, I'm going to give it to you" my legs spread on either side of her hips and as she leaned into me, our gasps were mutually released at the same time as our pussies touched. My vaginal walls contracted, and she simply had her mind on mine, because two fingers slipped in without a moment's notice and caused her to let out a gasp of her name. It led to her brutally continuing to fuck me with her fingers, as she wrapped my legs around her waist. "Oh Fuck, oh- ah" the sounds from both of us were not for a low level, but so when I cum on her fingers, she withdrew them and brought them to her lips. She said nothing, and I watched as she took her seconds to process me. She slid her hands down my bare legs to my hips and gave a hard thrust of our pelvises. I cried out, from surprise, pain, and rubbing. she leaned into me, and her movements began to become more grotesque: this was definitely not her first time fucking a woman.

My hands grabbed her nipples, and I tugged on them lightly. Her moans pounded in my ears so loudly, that desperation started in me.

“I need you, so much" the gasp pounded in my head, and she climbed one leg over one of mine, each of our midsections colliding this time. Our lips could touch and I could even feel her throbbing. I moaned, and she resumed what she had stopped.

The growing hair on both of us was rubbing and burning on both us, but it didn't seem enough for either of us either. "Come on, baby. Please cum with me" I gasped, and she gave a little jump on me, our middles colliding. The scream unleashed me and I felt the spurt come out, but there was another hot liquid that began to squirt down my legs.

She had cum with me, and I felt so satisfied with her. We stayed like that, me caressing her naked body lying on top of me, and her still moving slightly on top of me, in a loving way. "I think we need to get cleaned up" she murmured and her nails dug lightly into the other leg of mine that she wasn't sitting on. I lifted my knee and she rested her beautiful face, but then lightly licked the knee. I groaned at that, but then gave a little kiss "I know how we can get clean."

And what I least expected, was to have her sitting on my face, leaning forward as she sucked on the new chaos I was making, fiddling with my clit and sticking licks to my relatively virgin pussy to those experiences.

[rumblelibrary]

I need a very loving Laszlo smut, either top or switch with him, take it any direction you want, any build up, any kinks. But I just... my soul needs this V I need to see this man happy and satisfied

Coming Back Home [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, mild victorian dirty talk)

Author’s note: I am weak to see this man happy, my mind went a bit overboard, but I just couldn't hold it back, to see him happy and fulfilled in all his means, professional and private. Thank you so much for feeding my obsession and being my supporter @cazzyimagines <3

The cold air hit him as a welcome back in the moment he exited the carriage, he was back in New York after six months of study and hard work in Wien, he hated and loved it: he learned a lot and got the chance to talk with some of the best alienists in the field granting himself some valuable resources and upcoming publications, the city was amazing and romantic. But all day, every day, he was with his mind on the life he left here, on you and your baby boy waiting at home patiently, easing his pains with letters and little colourful sketches, reassuring him that he would come back to the same house he left.

It was late, he could see the light in baby’s room was off already and it pained him to be late for the goodnight story.

The driver dropped his belongings beside the door with a huff before taking his money with a big thank you.

Laszlo nodded, a sense of tension taking over him, what if something indeed changed? What if you hate him for leaving for his own interest? Will his son remember him? 

The silliest questions took over him and he just rang the bell before the spiral would take over and make him sleep in the garden out of his imaginary shame.

Stevie opened the door and his face lighted up instantly, Laszlo’s hand moved close to his own face with a finger up to signal him to keep quiet. The young lad nodded opening the door more, but a loud whine came out of his lips when he saw the heavy trucks beside Laszlo. 

“Stevie? Who is it?”

Your voice vibrated through the walls enveloping Laszlo like a distant memory and a fresh breath of air at the same time.

Stevie mumbled something “Nobody Madam, only some funny head playing with bells at night” he said as Laszlo nodded at him.

He left the coat at Stevie with his gloves and hat making his way to the bedroom upstairs trying to be as quiet as possible, your vanity the first thing that appeared to his sight, he shifted lightly so he could spot your figure reflected in the mirror without being seen.

You were already in your white night dress, hair down wrapped in a braid that rested on your shoulder, his own dark blue night gown draped over you making you appear even smaller, a book resting in your hand, the other hand toying with the fabric of his gown. A soft sigh left your lips and a little smile, you are liking the book. You turn the page with your features lighting up by interest, he felt almost guilty to interrupt you.

“Guten Abend, my love”

Your head shot up, eyes wide in surprise, a smile growing on your lips as he walked inside the room revealing his presence. A sense of nervousness still on him.

“Laszlo” you called rushing to him, discarding the book and throwing the covers onside,  closing the distance between the two of you by jumping out the bed like an excited child. Your hands wrapped quickly around his neck, you pulled him in, lips clashing against one another. He smiled in the kiss, eyes a bit teary as the happiness you were able to blossom into his chest since the first time he met you was still there. He cupped your cheek with his left hand, the kiss being long and followed by little short ones, and then again a long one.

“You should have told me” You whispered and he smiled at you noticing how you also got a bit of tears streaming down your cheeks, but all due to happiness. You picked his right hand kissing it lovingly, oh that ritual of yours, that mindless action you always did to kiss the part of him he despised the most.

“Welcome home, my love”

He smiled widely, so wide he felt his cheeks and jaw hurt, while he leaned his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying it. Your little telepathy thing, like he could pour his thoughts to you and vice versa.

In the meanwhile Stevie kept himself far from the two of you not wanting to interrupt or witness anything he shouldn’t. Laszlo pulled back from that position as he stared down at you, your eyes met again as you gulped down a little, his eyes travelling onto your neck as none of you seemed able to pick what words to let out first, too many informations gathered in six months that letters couldn’t covert.

His eyes raising up to yours, you moved first guiding his right hand still safe in your grasp inside that warm robe hiding your body, his fingers meeting with the obscenely thin fabric of your night dress, the shape of your breast clear under his touch, his thumb brushing over your nipple earning an immediate reaction from you. 

His breath itched, his tongue wetting his lips as you kept supporting his weak arm while his hand discovered once more what hidden treasure was the body of his wife.

His left hand undoing the silky bow around your neck that kept that useless piece of clothing closed, your breasts being exposed as he leaned his head down lacing his lips with you nipple and giving it a tempting suck, his tongue roaming over it as a sense of home and comfort surged into his stomach, then he spoke and his hot breath against your wet nipple made you shiver.

“Have you done the exercises that I gave you?”

“No”

His eyes shoot up at you, a mix between the need to scold you and desire in them.

“I could do it only with your letters” you added.

“Not touching yourself enough must have been painful, exasperating, you could have brought yourself to hysteria”

“I know, but I was waiting for this moment”

He smirked, the idea to be a vital part of your sexual expression turning him on immensely.

“Which letter was your favourite?”

“The one where you described your fingers inside me, I could imagine it so clearly while I was doing it to myself”

He almost let out a groan only by the sound of your words, the need to go knuckles deep inside you now almost impossible to hold back as the image of your distressed figure rolling onto the sheets trying to emulate that pleasure he only can give you clouded his mind.

His left hand almost angrily undoing the fabric belt the nightgown around your waist before moving behind your back to pull it off your shoulders, you gently let go of his right hand helping him in the task, your hands now tugging his jacket, his waistcoat, beginning already with his shirt buttons, you were so in need, but he was the same. He tugged his shirt off probably ripping off some buttons, the urgency you both felt filling the air.

His eyes trying to take in all your figure as you finally let go of that white dress.

“Oh, meine Frau, no statue or artwork or inspiration I have seen in this travel equals your beauty” he groaned as he felt like he almost forgot how he worshipped your body, how your only presence triggered obscene desires through him.

There was almost a moment of suspense before he leaned his warm body against yours, skin on skin again.

His erection already brushing over your lower stomach as you guided him onto the bed with you laying down for him. “Laszlo” you were about to beg him not to make you wait, not to tease you but his left hand fingers were already between you legs and a yelp of pleasure left you lips immediately.

“Soaked wet without me even touching you”

He was so pleased, you didn’t need to look at his face to know, but you whimpered when his long finger pushed inside you, he knew it, he knew exactly how to touch you, how to manipulate all of you. His lips laced to your neck, he sucked on it, bit it, hickeys soon will follow the passage of him. He is back.

To see your own neck pale and empty from his marks pained you everyday, but now he is at home and there won’t be a single centimetre of you spared. Another moan followed as his mouth found your nipples again, your legs trembling as a second finger joined the first one making you gasp for air. The ultimate pleasure approaching in you too quickly, abnormally quickly, but you missed him so much and six months without his care on you was a torment.

His prideful smile gave you the freedom not to restrain your pleasure, your hips jolting up and trembling, more wetness gathering on his fingers before he pulled them out knowing that it would make you feel empty.

He punished you with distance as he sat down on the bed, you crawled over him, legs still feeling like jelly as you forced yourself to straddle him. You didn’t need to rest, you wanted him to bring you to exhaustion and he knew it, he knew you won’t wait anymore. So you aligned him with your folds, his hard cock opening his way into you easily thanks to your recent orgasm, a loud growl leaving Laszlo’s lips.

“My wife, it appears to me that you’re back being a virgin after only six months away from me” 

You blushed because his words made you sensitive and proud in a very peculiar way, you moaned slowly beginning to ride him as he kept muffling how tight you’re pressing his forehead against your chest, his left arm wrapping around you. You voiced your pleasure freely, fingers tangling to the back of his head, now it was your turn to guide his pleasure, to set the rhythm, but the pace was slow and deep, the desire still feverish in you, but the closeness inspiring you tenderness. 

“How horrible to rest in the cold Wien without you, how empty to walk without your presence” he spoke directly to your chest, to your heart “every achievement was not an achievement if I couldn’t share it with you” he confessed, his hot breath against your breasts.

“You’re back now, next time we will come with you”

You smiled as his eyes shone looking up at you “my wife”

He loved to call you that, he always did, the pride in his voice when he asked you  to be his wife the first time came back to your memory. You didn’t need many nicknames, wife and husband, the holy duo, the balance, the symmetry.

“I love you, my husband”

You moaned against him, his fingers digging into your skin, his right hand settling over your hip.

You couldn’t guess how much it lasted, you impaled deliciously yourself over him, he loved to stare at you going on your own on top of him, love it, express fully your feminine power. His left hand teasing your clit sapiently mimicking your movements making it nauseatingly perfect, your mind clouded by pleasure. He cursed, he growled biting onto the side of your breast when filling you up and gaining another moan from you, he held you down as he kept rubbing your clit until he felt your walls clasp deliciously around him, he still didn’t want to move.

He loved to see you helpless, washed over by pleasure, legs jerking aimlessly and fingers pulling onto him and his hair.

You didn’t take time to recover from that second orgasm, his skilled fingers knowing their ways around you, you bowed your head joining your lips again, you still couldn’t believe it.

“I am such a lucky man to have you”

You smiled kissing his forehead “I am lucky with such a husband like you”

You stayed like this, hugging, the time to talk will come, the time to exchange gifts and come back to routine. But not now. After countless minutes you slowly shifted from that position, freeing his hard on from you but slowly moving beside his sitting figure staying on your all fours, the braid that held your hair almost completely loose.

“Come my husband, you only had one orgasm, I know you love even numbers”

The next morning the light from the window hit his eyes, he frowned stirring as he blinked tiredly. Your figure tangled to his in bed, the covers over the both of you. He kissed your forehead out of habit, the marks already forming on your neck made him proud, your regular breathing and gentle perfume mixed with the sweat of sex made his senses alive. You felt him move and woke up pretty easily, probably due to have slept alone for so long. You smiled at each other, no words yet needed, a soft kiss placed on each others lips.

The a soft sound, more like little sounds following one another, little feet rushing down the hallway.

“Mama” being whispered by a very shy boy, his clear brown hair peaking up from the doors.You smirked covering Laszlo completely with the duvets.

“My baby” you said sitting up holding the covers over your body.

“Mami!” He gasped surprised “what happened to your neck?”

“Oh, it is normal my baby, is it so late?”

He nodded and you smiled as he hopped on top of the messy bed, Laszlo smirked from underneath the covers, it seems like somebody took a habit of sneaking into the big bed.

You smiled as your boy resembled so much his father, he crawled to move to your lap and that’s when Laszlo sat up with a loud “Who’s in my bed?” holding his hand up like a claw.

The boy squared but soon threw himself against his father’s chest.

“Apa visszatért!!!” He shouted so loud at you like you didn’t notice Laszlo at all and you chuckled finding the two of them so adorable.

“I am going to get some breakfast done” you said willing to leave them their space. Laszlo nodded at you as you wrapped yourself into your dress and then the thick nightgown. You could hear them talk softly, Laszlo was all about speaking to him in his mother’s language but also in German, so your boy was always mixing the three. “Have you being a good master of the house while I was away?” “Yes Papa, I have been extra good and mommy was happy too, but it is not like when you’re here” Laszlo’s little chuckle won you over even by distance. You had to learn Hungarian through Laszlo, even if you were lucky enough to know German already. But how sweet it was to learn along with your boy.

“Little Andrea woke you up, mrs Kreizler?” The cook, a very nice and good hearted woman asked once you reached the kitchen still wrapped in your night clothes and redoing your braid.

“He did, but his father is back, I couldn’t detain him in any way” You assured as you instructed about the breakfast to make something special. When everything was ready and settled you saw the two of them coming downstairs together, Andrea holding his father’s weak hand into his, still babbling in German to him. The two of them still in their night clothes, you loved to be unruly with them, half of the world outside would be shocked to see a family have breakfast in their night clothes, but who cares. You sat all together as Laszlo begun narrating about his travel, Andrea almost forgetting to eat as he sat down staring at his dad with shiny eyes like he could disappear any time.

“Andrea, at least the juice” you said and he nodded vehemently in particular after you whispered something to his ear.

“Do you have secrets with me?” Laszlo inquired with a smirk, his messy hair a blessing in such bright day.

“Always had” you said with a smirk and he chuckled softly before standing up and leaving for a moment coming back with some boxes.

He handed his boy one and two to you, while Andrea was busy unwrapping the gift Laszlo moved behind your sitting figure “open the small one first”

You obeyed quietly as the box was clearly hinting it was jewellery, inside you found some white gold and blue sapphires earrings.

“Laszlo, you ..” He shushed you softly “come on, wear them for me, jewellery over night dress, a new fashion from Europe” He joked softly but you obliged his wishes putting them on, Andrea making happy cheering sounds as he found the model train of his dreams. The earrings dropped beautifully on you, framing the new Laszlo loved so much “I knew only a Venus like you could sport them” he said making you blush, he always spoke in a way that made you feel like courting never ended.

“What about this?” You asked about the second box and Laszlo smirked just gesturing you to go on. Inside there was a study for a portrait, your portrait, clearly inspired by the picture Laszlo had with himself of you.

“I met this young painter in Wien, a bit struggling with money but extremely talented as you can see, a craftsman that works with gold, I invited him to come here next month and work on your portrait, he fell in love with your figure already, I already know I will have to guard your safety.”

“What is his name?”

“Oh, he is not famous, Gustav Klimt”

“Well, we can make him famous then” you said and Laszlo just smiled more as you kissed his lips to thank him for the beautiful gifts, knowing Laszlo he probably had way more hidden in his trucks “I knew you’d say something this kind of sweet”

“Mama, you look beautiful” Andrea called you staring like he was waiting for you to say something and you smiled nodding “yes, now it is the perfect time”

“For what?” Laszlo asked as you took his hand guiding him to the living room.

“Please, take a sit now” you said slowly guiding him to his armchair, the comfort of the familiar place relaxed him, the fresh flowers in the vase, the books laid on the table.

“Andrea has a surprise for you” you said leaning to sit on the arm of the chair looking up a his confused face, but he was unable to let go of that smile creeping on his lips.

“Come inside darling” you called “we are ready”

You took Laszlo’s right hand guiding it on your lap, the curiosity already eating him alive as little Andrea came holding his little violin, still looking extra cute in that night dress that made him resemble some cute baby penguin. He puffed his chest blushing as you gave him a nod of encouragement, Laszlo’s eyes shining to see his son like this and the chemistry you two have.

“I have learned this piece to welcome you back home” he announced as his shaky voice betrayed a bit his nervousness.

He placed the violin carefully onto his shoulder resting his cheek on it, your hands holding Laszlo’s while tapping with you finger to keep the tempo for Andrea. The melody was simple, but quite impressive for such a young player, Laszlo was unable to look away from his son, from the way he relaxed while playing, for the way you clearly helped him to gain the confidence to do this little performance.

He looked up at you as you two shared that look of complicity.

Life was bright over Kreizler’s household. 

Tagged @cazzyimagines​ @lieutenantn​ @handmaiden-of-mischief​ @thesunflowersutra​ @zemomybeloved​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @charistory​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @apparrio​ @hb8301​ @whatawildone​ @rhymerhymerhyme

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

[septembersghost]

I would love to hear your thoughts on what Kim does for fun, like hobbies. Her drawings on the Howard board were cute, I wondered if she doodles in her spare time (jesse moment)

this is such a fun question! i've long had a very indulgent headcanon that kim was secretly artistic, because i liked thinking that she'd painted the birds in her apartment (rhea's birds!), they're so pretty and have a personal, handpainted feeling to them, you couldn't find those in a store. i thought she might've been an artistic child and poured a lot of herself into focusing on that when she was lonely and struggling, one thing she could always rely on when they moved from place to place. she definitely doodles in her spare time! additionally, we see her with her cello in that S5 flashback, and i'm kind of obsessed with how it never comes up (especially since rebecca is a concert violinist! kim also playing a string instrument, at least in her youth - i am looking at the mcgill brothers), and i wonder if she had to give up music because of the cost, or because she knew it wasn't a reliable, guaranteed way to get out of red cloud. did she pursue anything musically in college or entirely pivot? did she enjoy playing? cello isn't something most kids would pick up lightly (literally too lol). i like to think she did love it and felt unfettered when she played, that it was a way to channel all the big things she was feeling and couldn't display or say, but that for whatever reason she left it in her past. i also long thought she enjoyed doing puzzles (so waterworks was validating in the most horrendously nightmarish way possible?), not only jigsaw puzzles, but crosswords and things like that to exercise/distract her brain and de-stress. she reads a lot, all different types of books, for entertainment and knowledge and escape, and she reads case law (she says to stay sharp, but it's also for fun). and of course she loves her classic movies.

@anextrapart has written some lovely posts about her taking up/floundering at gardening that i adore (https://anextrapart.tumblr.com/post/692891044553129984/tell-me-more-about-kims-failed-attempts-at, https://anextrapart.tumblr.com/post/693074331973091328/i-wanna-hear-more-about-jimmy-cooking-for-kim-with), and i agree that kim never particularly enjoys cooking because it's tied to her having to depend on and care for herself during her childhood, but i do think the management aspect of gardening and the distracting outlet for her using her hands would be appealing to her. she attempts to pick up some kind of needlework (crochet, embroidery) thinking she'd like the precision, but she keeps dropping stitches and stabbing herself and gives it up in annoyance, goes back to painting free-form and losing herself in the brush strokes. she ends up with even more tiled rows of bird studies, but whenever she expresses that maybe she's done too many, jimmy says he loves them. their colors, their wings, their freedom. he went too many years without seeing birds - in the desert and prison. he swears if he's still for long enough, he can almost hear them singing. or maybe that's just how he feels finally being with her.