#I feel like that sentence is wrong but eh it's close enough

[ericagray]

Irresistible Longing

1.3k words blade fanfic

Ehe, this is the first fanfic that I wrote here, I hope you enjoy it ~

Note: the reader is the path of abundance

As if the sky had wiped away the sting of iron blood from your nose. Your surroundings were replaced with earthly odour after rain. It was only after the downpour of water had stopped that you are able to continue to search for your companion Blade - your footwear tramping through the mud and blood; continue to trace his location based on Elio's instructions. Although the more you are getting close to the location, the smell of blood from who blade killed reappeared unless the sting was getting denser. 

The light on your holographic screen flickers as you stumble upon a formation consisting of rocks and a tract of ground which almost makes up a cave for dozen people to take shelter from the rain. But before your orbs stir into your devices once more to check whether it's the correct place or not, you notice a familiar male figure leaning over back to back from the cave wall. Sitting down - bending over one leg, arm staying put above his stomach as he closes his eyes - he tries to stay on guard as his body slowly heals punctures wound in his left shoulder and abdomen.

You tread closer to his resting body and despite your slow movements - trying not to disturb him too much, his body instinctively grabs his sword almost just to slash out the remaining enemy he left behind.

"Wait... Blade, it's me-" his movements are abruptly stopped by the sound of a familiar voice. A few moments have passed, and his crimson eyes glare at you. his eyes are more darkened than usual, perhaps from scowling his eyebrows in pain. 

He lowered his weapon as soon as he realized it was you who dare to step in a sleeping wolf. Sword scraping through the dirt as he drags it to his side - his fist clenched as he pulls it above his abdomen - It must be painful even for him.

"Please don't move too much... I'll heal you in a moment" You waste no more sentences in your mouth and start envelope Blade's wound with the light of your healing. 

Another moment passes with no words exchanged from either of you. It's not like Blade wants to be bothered by what you're trying to say, not to mention how he has avoided you in the past. Each time both of you cross-path one another; even in necessity mean as Sterallon Hunters, he would avert his gaze in the opposite direction of where you are and walk away even when you're just trying to show gratitude from the mission. He must've been hating me for some reason - you thought.

Even when I know from the bottom of my heart that it is drawn to you - belong to you, but I know you don't feel the same way...

Yet with all of those thoughts drowning your mind, your orbs finally notice that he's been staring at you throughout the time you heal him. The expression on his face appears unreadable. Unable to tell what he's feeling, you quickly assume he's annoyed by how long it took to fully treat him.

And so, your healing lights dimmed down as you finally finished recovering his scars to his original state.

"I'm sorry that it took too long, it's finally done now." 

The same expression still adorns his face as he looks at you.

"We should get going now-" Your skin brushes with him as he grabs your wrist before you stand up. His grip was a firm one yet gentle enough for your soft skin.

"Blade?" Tendons stand out in the neck, a visible pulse as you swallow your own saliva. Did I do something wrong? - Subconsciously putting your thoughts into your mouth.

A sudden movement, he pulls in your wrist just as your body flung into his. A brief time ago, his body was surrounded with blood infused with a stench of iron, but in your arm - nose buried in his shoulder, you sense a hint scent of warm lemon in his body.

"Blade?" You repeat as soon as you snapped into reality. His arm slowly circles around your body, making sure there's no distance between you and him. 

Gaped by his sudden gesture, the gear in your brain tries to process the reason behind his actions. His breath quietened upon the contact, cradling your waist so close like an irreplaceable treasure - thus, heeding his heartbeat thrashing loudly in your chest whilst noticing the size difference between your body and his. 

"... You..." 

He murmured into your shoulder, eyes observing your orbs once more. His low and raspy voice, It felt like forever since you heard him.

"You... Absorbed my nature as a whole... My soul..."

"Blade... I--"

"You... Always haunts my mind...The thought of you was inevitable to me... I yearn for you as a whole and I am no longer my own master because of you" 

"... Yearning me as a whole...?" - such profound word bewitched your body so deeply that you felt your heart beating for him in response. You too, know really well that you've desired him as much as his.

"Don't you hate me...?" 

you swore his hold tightens and his gaze shifts into a cold one that would cower his enemy. Your question is simply to assure your heart that you didn't misunderstand his intention.

A rush of frustration hits him, and within the blink of an eye, Blade's warm lips find their way into yours. He hungrily claims your lips into his as you let out a small gasp. 

For Aeon-knows how long he's been longing for you yet keeps withdrawing himself since he set his own path into a way of the sword.

He let out a small growl before pushing you to the ground, pulling you close to him, feeling your body against his. As the kiss deepens, he runs his hands up and down your back, relishing the feeling of your body against his.

Your voice, your smell, your taste. It's the other thing that would drive him insane than almost being a Mara-Struck. You are the curse that he would gladly suffer.

"B-blade..." You mumbled when he finally parted ways from your mouth and snapped back to reality. He towered his body over yours as he watches you gaping for air. Blade slowly cupped your cheek and caressed it gently.

"These feelings... Is there anything I can even do about it...?" He rambles to himself as he rubs his face to your shoulder, hand clinches above the ground.

As if you see his perspective of his own immortality, You knew that he'd think that the death that he wanted so much cannot be achieved if he focus on something else; He'd think there's no point in putting faith in someone else.

"Blade... Listen to me..." 

Unable to resist his anguish, you slowly fold your arms behind his head - keeping him close to your body.

"You don't deserve to live with all of those sufferings, You know?" Your lips pressed into his forehead, kissing his hair bangs as you stroke the back of his neck.

"I know that you always longed for death as far back as you can remember and to achieve what you wanted... You don't have to beat yourself up. A bit of comfort and joy wouldn't hurt, no?"

Even without him saying anything, you could feel his embrace trembling - In spite of his stoicism, he really is someone fragile. 

"Until that time, let's be there for each other," you vow.

And despite what happens

The future may never spoke

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice 

But in your arms

Ice or fire

Day or night

In life or in death

Let's make a promise never to never separate

[bitchinbarzal]

I was thinking… Mama B and Mat’s first time having sex after their break is either going to be fucking hot or emotional af

warnings: sex, smut, dirty words 18+ ONLY

When you let Mat into the house, you were tiptoeing around him as if he wasn’t your husband.

You locked the door behind him, turning to head back to bed and stopped, faced with his broad chest. You’d noticed in your time apart Mat had clearly been hitting the gym.

His arms were bigger and in the few times he’d taken his shirt off to hold Wyatt to rock her to sleep, you’d taken a lot of notice to his more defined abs.

Your hand rested on his chest, taking notice of how much harder his peck was now.

“Mat…” you mumble, his index finger hooks under your jaw and tilts your head up to look at him.

When you make eye contact he smirks softly “Hi babygirl”

“Bedroom” is all you say, dragging his hand as you flee up the stairs, careful to not be loud enough to wake the kids.

Mat shoves you into the room, closing the door behind him. The door clicks shut softly, Mat trying to additionally listen for any noise from the babies while also staring at you in complete and utter awe.

That’s my wife.

Once he knew he was in the clear, he lunged forward to you on the bed. Lips on yours and panting heavily.

His hands felt heavy, squeezing your boobs through the soft fabric of your pyjamas. The pyjamas you’d deemed your ‘mom clothes’ as they were typically covered in something that Wyatt had thrown up.

"My beautiful girl" he muttered against your skin, teeth nipping at the flesh making you moan lowly.

The soft fabric of your pyjama shorts is pushed upwards to your hips as far as it will go, Mat’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips.

Mat pulled back and stared at you, your eyes following his. He frowned and before you could ask what was wrong he pulled your legs towards him so you moved down the bed.

“Too many clothes” he muttered, head dipping down to make work of pulling your shorts off with him teeth and throwing them across the bedroom.

There he stared at your panties, a dumb smile on his lips “better”

A gasp fell from your lips upon feeling his lips peppering kisses up your thighs, each one closer to your core.

He bit softly at a soft spot for you and you moaned lowly

He pulls away chuckling “Quiet, baby don’t want to wake the kids”

You smack the top of his head lightly and he laughs against your leg “I missed this pretty pussy”

His index finger trails over your panties, making you squirm “Mat” you whimper “Please”

“Please What?”

You whine again at his teasing “Mat I want you to fuck me”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks “You want me to fuck you, babygirl?”

Oh he wanted to play this game.

Lifting yourself off the bed and onto your elbows you bat your eyelashes at him “Fuck me, daddy”

You didn’t have to ask him twice, your panties had been discarded onto the floor somewhere but he wasn’t too concerned as he works two fingers inside of you, opening you up for him.

“Gotta get you ready for me, eh? Been a while”

While it was sexy talk, part of you frowned at Mat’s sentence. He sounded somewhat insecure, like he didn’t believe you hadn’t been having sex.

You looked up at him “All yours, Mat, I’m always yours”

With that confirmation you saw him physically soften. The moment was broken when he pushed his fingers even further into you, you let out a loud moan even surprising yourself.

You bit your fingers trying to stop the noise you were making.

Mat was so amused and turned on watching you come undone beneath him. He’d been thinking about this moment for a very long time.

He drank in the moment, looking at your figure sprawled out across the bed, fingers gripping at the sheets desperately while you moaned his name over and over again.

“You look so pretty like this babygirl, all laid out for me”

Last time he had you like this you were eight and a half months pregnant, belly taking up majority of your personal space. He loved seeing you so full with his baby.

“Mat, Mat c’mere” you whine, pulling him up so he is face to face with you. Your panting, wetness between your thighs is slippery.

“What is it baby?” He asks, continuing to press kisses onto your jaw.

“I want it” you mumble, hands on either side of his face.

His eyes widen and he smirks "You want it? you wanna be full of me?"

You nod, almost embarrassed at how fast "Always wanna be full of you Mat”

His cock twitched at your words having waited so long to hear them again, he grunts as his hands fumble to remove his belt from his jeans. Pulling out his cock, already hard and slapping against his lower stomach.

You reach your arms out, looping your hands around his neck and pulling him into a kiss, swallowing his moans as he pushed himself into you.

Mat feels you squirming around underneath him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him once again. You throw your head back against the soft bedding allowing Mat access to your chest.

Your moans only get louder when his tongue swirls around the bud of your nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking softly. Your boobs were especially tender now you were breastfeeding.

When he lets go with a pop he smiles at you dumbly and continues to thrust into you.

“So tight for me, baby”

You moan in return, chanting out his name like it was a song.

“Oh Mat, Oh baby”

His thrusts became faster, setting a quick pace knowing how short he was on time and that Wyatt would be awake soon enough and he’d have to go back to sharing you.

The faster he got, the harder your nails scraped against his back. Your legs locked behind his back.

“Want me to fill you up, baby? Eh? You wanna be full of me?” You only whimpered in response, your eyes screwed shut.

Mat laughed and reached his hand up to trail his thumb across your bottom lip

“You’re so perfect for me babygirl, my perfect wife”

His cock started to push against that spot inside of you that made your legs go weak, your whines turning into full on moans.

“I’m gonna- Mat I’m close” you whine, opening your eyes to look at him. He’s hovering above you, his hair is stuck to his forehead with the sweat. His eyes are screwed shut and you take in the look of pure bliss on his face.

He’s moaning lowly under his breath and You mumble “Let me hear you”

That alone makes him grown and push into you harder, his thumb has now situated itself firmly on your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan

“I’m gonna- you’re gonna…”

He chuckles “Come for me, baby… come for daddy”

His words mixed with the sensitivity of his thumb on your clit makes you moan out, coming all over his cock. Your legs are twitching as his thrusts soften and he spills into you with a loud groan.

He pulls out, falling down beside you on the bed. Your hand reached up and pulls his head to yours so you can kiss him

“Welcome home baby”

[kumimi3]

HOSPITAL LOVE MISSION !

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

LOVE MISSION ! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ patient 02 : dimension [tr]! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 love sloth disease | platonic! status ! ♡♡♡♡♡

information ! :::; LOVE SLOTH DISEASE୨୧ patient 02 loves her brothers dearly, but she’s too lazy to do anything! Cupid Doctor, I think we need a sloth medicine for this one! The Haitani brothers adore their baby sister, let’s find a way to appreciate them!

LOVE MISSION : ONGOING!

STAGE 01 : CHECK UP!

Unwilling to do anything, merely being an adorable slug, boredom reached you once again--Like all the time.

Remembering the hand of your oldest brother--Ran Haitani--Brush past your eyes to lull you to sleep, you finally awoke from your slumber, just like the lazy princess you are.

Rindou Haitani prepared you a meal before leaving, albeit somewhat a bad cook, you appreciated the burnt sides of your egg. And you were left all alone, but it's fine!

You were accompanied by the plushies your brothers won you at a carnival once, and at an arcade. A bundle of snacks Ran bought for you, handpicked and deeply thought. Not to mention the available gaming consoles Rindou allowed only you to play when he's not the one playing.

There's a lot they've done for you today, and you've only woken up. It was sweet and thoughtful.

"Don’t wanna think..." Mumbling tiredly, you lay your body on the floor, sprawled like a starfish as you stare at the ceiling.

Upon hearing the door knock, you merely looked at the door and subtly smiled, your heart secretly jumping to the sight of purple strands appearing on the corner of your peripheral vision.

"We're home, Y/n!" Rindou called out, walking inside first as he stretched his arms with a yawn. Ran followed suit, putting his coat on top of a rack before entering with a soft smile upon seeing you.

"What in the world are you doing there on the floor?" Following a chuckle, he sat on the floor close to you and lightly pinched your nose--To which he laughed when you crinkled and huffed.

"Too lazy to stand up..." You muttered, moving closer to lay your head on his lap. Ran adjusted his position for your comfort, playing with your soft hair with his slender fingers.

"You're such a sloth, Y/n." Rindou commented as he came back from the kitchen, sitting on the floor as well. He popped a grape when he saw you opening your mouth, sighing in response.

"Ouch, are you fine with him saying that?" Ran teased with a laugh.

"Eh, what am I supposed to say? It's true." You shrugged, holding Ran's finger now to play with it, the oldest brother occasionally playing with your pudgy soft cheeks.

Lazy, yet your brothers loved you dearly. Arguments and fun fights were all present, but one thing's for certain, and it's their dedication to make your life lovely and easy.

Despite your apathetic attitude, you greatly loved them back, willing to do your best for them, helping them, and joining in their fun too! It's just your laziness that held you back time after time.

Nevertheless, this time... You'll definitely do your best!

STAGE 02 : MEDICAL RECORD CHECK!

"I hope you don't get tired of me..."

The sudden sentence shocked both Ran and Rindou, looking at your stature as you stare at them with your hazy eyes. The words that fell from your mouth broke their heart.

The Haitanis looked younger, it was probably because they’re still in junior highschool, even so, they were mature enough to know what you were saying.

Were you feeling neglected? Did someone hurt you? Did it seem like they don't have time for you? What happened? Tell them!

Whatever came to their mind, they were eager to know your response. Sitting on both side of the couch, Ran looked at you in concern and asked:

"What's wrong?"

You raised your eyebrow at the sudden gloom of atmosphere, did you say something bad? Either way, you answered, beacuse if not, you were sure they would've gotten white hairs from the sudden stress.

"I'm lazy..." You sighed tiredly, "I'm a lazy sloth... Always depending on my big brothers like I don't have two feet... Too cold... 'M like a baby..."

You continued on with your response, unaware of the widening eyes of your brothers, heart breaking into pieces at your ongoing answers.

Ran was more of the adult in your siblingship, making sure his two baby siblings are well protected and love, he was making sure he did a good job in doing so... He was basically the one that raised you, took care of you since the day he was able to carry you like he did with Rindou.

Yes, you are lazy, he knew that, but he loved you regardless. Ran prepared your meals with a smile, he dolled you up with the cutest dresses and fancy makeup with a happy heart, he carries you because he knew you didn't like walking, but he did with contented joy.

Ran willingly heeded to you with happiness.

Rindou was in shock with the words spilling out of your tongue, he was appalled. Who did this to his baby sister??? How dare they make her feel that way! He's readying his knuckles in rage, yet it's hidden through the soft touches he gives to your hand.

Closer to his age, he was able to share humors with you, able to make fun of each other. Rindou was open to boast about himself to you, that he's strong enough to protect you from any bad guys at your school, to the evil monsters in your nightmares.

In faux reluctance, yet he always melts in the end and agrees to follow your orders all the time. Rindou will be willing to carry you piggyback all the time at school, willing to put on your shoes and tie them, buy you food with his own saved up money, be your personal bodyguard, all with a fake scowl that soon melts into a toothy grin upon meeting your soft smile.

Lazy? Tch, what's that got to do with anything!? You're completely perfect! He's fine with it! Please, don't be sad anymore.

"...With my laziness, I think... People are easy to get tired of me--"

Going quiet, your eyes open wide for a second when you see your brothers holding you tightly, Ran softly patted your head in tender touches, trying to take away those thoughts in your head.

Rindou was unexpectedly sullen, holding you tighter than Ran, gritting his teeth when he lowered his head, "D-Don't think of such things..."

It seems your words took a toll on them. It meant that they cared a lot, right? It was... Nice, you hoped it would stay like this forever and ever.

STAGE 03: SURGERY!

“Thank you so much for everything…” 

Ran and Rindou were stunned at the sudden impact of their little sister hugging the both of them, but it was muscle memory for them to hug you back. 

“W-What do you mean?” Ran was a bit taken aback with your genuine words, tenderly stroking your hair as he looked at you in confusion, but his heart warmed at the gesture.

Gently patting your back, Rindou had the idea to tease you, but this was the longest time you’ve been sentimental with them, they’ve always been the one to go emotional on you, but this was a once in a blue moon.

“Just… Thank you for being my brothers.” 

Now that stopped their heart for a minute, they needed to take a breath from the sudden love. You weren’t one to blurt these words normally, so you hid your reddening face from them.

“I…” Ran was stumbling with his words, overflowing in happiness at the sight of his sister being comfortable enough to say such loving words, he eyed Rindou as well, chuckling to see him unmoving like a statue.

“Well, this is new…” Rindou chuckled, giving a soft smile towards you, “But I ain’t complaining.” 

Hugging both of them tighter, you forced the incoming tears to vanish away, but your voice was giving it away from the clear stutters.  “I’m… J-Just very h-happy to have you both…” Sniffling quickly, you looked up at them and smiled, a beautiful smile that has them reciprocating it as well, eyes twinkling with a gleam of joy.

“Hey, hey… Don’t cry…” Ran, despite his strong demeanor, his eyes were showing a vague glow that blurred his vision because of the tears welling up. He may look blunt, but he really does have beautiful emotions like love.

You see Rindou looking away, but you can tell he too was also hiding his tears, from the way his lips began to tremble, but he smiled nonetheless. 

Under the pale moonlight, inside the quiet home of the Haitanis, they all share a comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of one another.

“I love you both.” 

“We love you more…”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

LOVE MISSION : ACCOMPLISHED! ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა [ nursie ] : you have done such a great job doctor cupid! You have fulfilled one of the love missions!

Back to the hospital ! <3

[xieyaohuan]

A New Discovery (Butchlander)

Cozy corner kinktober prompts: overstimulation; kink of choice: tickling

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst for a second and a half, but mostly fluff!

“What the fuck was that?”

William is pushing himself up from the floor, stupefied. Then he looks up at the ceiling, and Homelander’s eyes automatically follow his gaze.

“I- I don’t know,” is all the supe manages. That’s the truth. One moment, he and William were making out on William’s bed (yes, Homelander insisted on buying him a proper bed frame), and the next, he sent William flying half the way across the room.

There’s a hole in the ceiling right above Homelander’s head, small embers raining down on him, settling on the sheets and on his bare skin. The hole doesn’t go all the way to the next floor, he notices with relief.

It’s at best a small relief though.

He’s not lost control of his lasers in well over ten years. Certainly not badly enough to cause real damage. Burning holes into walls, and — fuck. William. “Did I… did I hurt you? Are you hurt?”

“Nah. All peachy.” William gets up, dusts himself off and climbs back up on the mattress to inspect the damage from up close. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. If the circumstances were any different, Homelander would probably enjoy the view. “That V shite really keeping its promises. Not a scratch on my body, love.”

Even when William pretends to be all sarcastic about the pet name, there’s usually some affection. Or so Homelander likes to tell himself. This time though, he’s not so sure.

The frown on William’s face is spreading as he’s prodding the hole in the ceiling, blinking away any ash and debris falling into his eyes.

Homelander grabs William’s blanket and wraps it around himself.

In the lab, this kind of loss of control would have meant no interactions with staff except food trays shoved angrily into his cell three times per day for at least a week. Vought would still make him practice on a target of course, but nobody was allowed to speak with him or even look at him. It was like Homelander didn’t exist. You have to understand, John, Vogelbaum would say later, we just can’t afford for you to be sloppy. We need you to have full control of your powers.

William is still muttering curses.

Frankly, Homelander didn’t expect he’d be so attached to this decrepit apartment. “I’ll pay to have the ceiling fixed,” he says quickly, realizing the mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“I don’t want your fucking money,” William snaps without turning his head to look at Homelander. “Why do you people always think money’s gonna fix everything? Why do you-”

He stops mid-sentence, but Homelander knows how it was going to end: something about supes being careless, ruining people’s lives, because they know Vought will sweep in to offer a check. He’s heard these words so many times out of William’s mouth. He can feel a burning sensation behind his eyes and quickly closes them before there’s another accident.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really don’t know what happened. It makes no sense.”

He was sprawled on the mattress, his back arched, William tracing kisses down his body. He remembers briefly doubting the wisdom of having let William talk him into taking off his suit. All of his suit. He remembers William touching him, caressing him. It felt weird. Wrong. He tried to ignore it for a little while, but the feeling just kept getting more intense: not quite a tingle and not quite an itch, but somehow so much worse than either. Then William’s hands sent a sudden jolt through his body, and all he remembers is the urge to get away from this strange sensation, no matter what.

The rest, well, the rest of the story is little flakes of ash raining down on him from the ceiling.

Homelander buries his head in the blanket. This wasn't how he expected this night to end.

William’s arms wrap around him. “Eh. Don’t worry about it.” His heart is still beating faster than usual, but that’s probably just the aftereffect of being tossed across the room. Whatever anger he felt before is gone.

“Don't you worry about a thing, beautiful.” He peels the blanket off of Homelander’s shoulders and pushes him onto his back, resuming where they left off five minutes earlier, leaving Homelander gasping and squirming.

Something still isn’t right though. He can feel each and every hair of William’s beard on his skin, every touch of his fingers almost unbearable and—

“Stop! Stop!”

William stops, looks up. “What?”

“I… I don’t know.” He can’t put into words what exactly isn’t right.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. No, no. It’s not that. It’s just-” It’s like his skin, which is supposed to protect him against fire, ice, bullets, is suddenly no longer doing its job. “I- I think my skin is malfunctioning. Or maybe my supe senses... I don’t know-” Homelander’s never had to think much about how exactly his body works. All he knows is that this isn’t supposed to happen.

William is studying him for a moment. Then he says: “Lie back down. I wanna try something.”

Homelander complies. He’s about to ask what the heck William wants to try when he feels his fingers lightly brush over his belly. This time, he can hear himself let out the most embarrassing little squeal before curling into a ball. At least he managed not to singe the ceiling this time.

William is laughing. “Your skin ain’t malfunctioning,” he says, a grin on his face. “You’re just ticklish.”

Homelander stares at him, mouth open, trying to think of something to counter. He’s heard of people being ticklish before. He’s read about it in books and seen it in movies. He technically knows what it is, though it always seemed like just another silly, human thing. A weakness, for sure. There’s no way he is ticklish. “Nonsense,” he mutters.

William’s grin widens. “Oh, I think you are.”

“I’m not!” Last thing Homelander needs is some stupid weakness.

“Alright,” William says. “Let’s try something then. Arms above your head.”

Homelander complies, suddenly wary, watching as William climbs on top of him and pins both his wrists with one hand. And then, without warning, he digs his other hand into Homelander’s undefended side.

This time, William hits the wall on the other side of the room, landing on the floor with a thud.

Still, there's the smuggest little grin on his face as he gets up. “You’re not just ticklish. You’re off-the-fucking-charts ticklish!”

Homelander wants to protest, but all the bits and pieces of knowledge about this sensation he’s never felt before are gradually coming together. It does make some sense, he has to admit. For a moment, he’s angry at Vought for their oversight: for desensitizing him to the most excruciating pain yet somehow managing to leave him with the silliest weakness possible.

“Fucking hell,” William says. “I can’t believe nobody’s figured this out before.” His eyes wander back to the hole in his ceiling. “Well, I suppose I can see why they wouldn’t have tried.” He’s laughing at his own joke, almost giddy with the excitement of his new discovery.

This cheerfulness is very unlike William, and it’s one Homelander doesn’t share. “I don’t need this kind of… deficiency. I can’t afford it. I’m the Homelander. What are people going to think when they find out?”

“Well, you're right, we can't have that.” The smug grin still hasn’t left William’s face. “We’re just gonna have to desensitize you then, won’t we, love?”

[itzr1anne]

Nah, Ian never leavin' you.

disclaimer!: i don't really like using y/n because i would rather ME imagining it then smb else lol, so yea i'm gonna use a random name. (all the writing and all my ocs BELONG to ME)

warnings!: nun but-- fluff, slight self-doubt(insecurities), reassurance, little mention of s£x lol

characters!:

Layla Melowive - Lala - Lay

32

Fiancée of Joshua Fatu

Joshua Fatu - Jey Uso - Josh

38

Fiancé of Layla Melowive

igh let's go --- --- ---

__________________________________________________

"Yeah..." Layla was finished off her sentence just when she saw the door handle to their bedroom twitch. "I'm finna go to bed boo, I'll call you tomorrow" Lala said on the phone to her best-friend, Angela, in which she responded "Yeah, that's alright, night baby". Lay said her good night then ended the call just as soon as her husband walked in.

"Who was you on the phone to?" Jey questioned, his face expression blank and unreadable.

"Just Ang?" she replied back, her eyebrows furrowing. Joshua hummed in response before crawling into the bed. He turned so that his back was facing her face. That was weird..

Layla dropped her phone (not literally) onto the nightstand; laid on her bed, allowing her pink, silk bonnet to connect with her wonderful silk pillowcase.

----

It's been around 15 minutes and Lay is still having struggles to fall asleep.

"Man, could you stop moving?" Jey mumbled. She shrugged, knowing that he couldn't see her. "Sorry" she murmured back. He turned around and looked into her eyes for a split second. She was crying. Well, from what he saw anyway. Josh sat up and took the hand of his fiancée to let her know that he's there for her. "What's wrong, ma?" he asked gently before giving the 5'6 woman a kiss on the forehead. She shook her head. "Nothing" she said wiping away her tears and checking her fingers afterward to see if there were still anymore left.

"Bro, don't tell me nothing. Sums' up, wassuh?" he held her in his arms for a while until she pushed him away and finally built up courage to ask him the question that's been on her mind for a total of 3 weeks now.

"Jey, baby?" she called for him. He nodded. "Do you still wanna do this? Am I good enough for you? Ba- matter of fact, do I deserve your fine self?" she asked, tears running down her cheeks as she pronounced each word. "Yes, definitely and heck yeah! Are those real questions, baby? Huh? That's what's been on your mind, hmm?"

"But bae.. I see the way you look at other girls. I'm nothing like them. I feel like you liked me, then you loved me and now we've just grown apart and you aren't even close to liking me anymore- like I'm a bur den to you. A distraction, almost."

"Respectfully, are you stupid?" he asked. She stared straight at him and gave his the meanest, dirtiest mugs ever. Way worse than ANY of his (lolss).

"Wha-?" she was about to say something but he cut in. "Because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. For starters, I do not ever look at other women, ma, secondly- don't chu' dare accuse me of not loving you." he started off, whispering. She looked away, sniffing. "Ay, look at me when I'm talm to ya, you are the love of my life. Why'd you think I put this ring on you, huh? Why'd you think I wanna commit myself to you and this relationship if I didn't love you?" he lifted her chin. "Dang, don't even get me started on how good chu' are in bed. You's a master, fa sho"

Layla blushed at that comment. "Eh, listen babe, ian even jokin' around, you is way too good for all this to handle, I promise" he says, chuckling softly as Layla does the same. "Sexy girl."

She kisses and lays in bed, in his arms, for a while longer before drifting off to sleep. Jey notices and says this, "I love you, nobody can replace you, word" he kisses her cheek and then falls asleep as well.

[sinistraes]

ASSHOLE. ₊˚.༄

𝐁𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 was heard in the room, spitting insults right there and then. not caring about the world. "stop your damn whining. why the hell are you blaming me for this?" "Because we're the only people in the house at the moment?!! not to mention, YOU have a 3-year-old 'son' watching Disney in the living room, you dunce-face."

 Ah, the fresh air of sibling drama. nothing new at the L/N household. constant yelling between the two siblings, except for the youngest of course. their relationship is beyond on the edge, no apologizing, nothing. it explains why they're not close, at least not anymore. "Ma!! I'm telling you! I didn't do it this time, I was in my room trying to find a job to buy my own house!" m/n's lying ma! why would he want to find a job just to pay for our needs, sounds like an excuse to me!" the said person glared at the one beside him, and so did they as well. sharing an intense staring contest that was cut off by the mother. "Enough of this fighting, Zephyr, I'm afraid your brother is right. He told me he was going to find a job to help around the house, he's growing up you know? also. get ready for dinner, you both, alright?" and the woman went back to cooking her dish. a hum of amusement was let out of you, your brother looked wide-eyed at the mother's response made you snicker.

 "so, Y/N, have you found any jobs that suited you, sweetheart?" his mother's calming voice stopped the comforting silence. "Well, I do have one into consideration, but I have to move out of here and go live there. but the salary is good too. so I mig —" you were cut off, rude. "oh, you're moving out? good! pack your shit and get!" Zephyr, cut off his a few months older brother. "Zeph! watch your language young man, you shouldn't be insulting your brother. He's trying his best to provide something for his family." a stern discipline was brought on. making Zephyr grumble under his breath, god. brothers. amirite? 

Weeks passed, You had to pack your stuff to go and see your new place. Your mother insisted you go on with the job, so you agreed to your mother's choice. "Are you all ready sweetheart? haven't forgotten anything?" "nope, all of my stuff is ready. please take care of my son ma, I'll be going now." and just like that, the oldest of the L/N household has moved out. taking out your car keys you did your last goodbye to your small family, and going inside the car. 

'Jeez, I never realized the location would be this far.' he thought. He was so glad his college wasn't far off, you wouldn't need to wake up super early just to arrive. "Where was the house again? big black gate, big mansion.. ah!" he looked up to the supposed location, 'i didn't think it was this big..' your sweat dropped. taking out your phone, you decided to chat with your boss or should I say, bosses.

<You>

 : hey !! just arrived in front of your gate... I need a hand with these bags.. ;(

<Gingery>

; oh! I'll come down to you in a bit. 

<You> 

thanks so much !! mwamwa 

seen by; Signora hottie, Gingery, and Scarababes.

not even just a second of looking up from your smartphone, you already see a ginger-haired man running up to you, and OHHH MAN his outfit made you breathless. a sleeveless vest buttoned on his stomach area, showing off his curves, and a white long-sleeved polo shirt rested nicely on his body. you could feel yourself heating up, was it from the weather or him? "Earth to Y/N? you seem hot and bothered, something wrong?" his gentle voice made you step out of your trance. "a— ah! sorry, was thinking of something. I'm all fine, now can you help me carry some of my stuff to the house..? I may or may not pack a little over enough." your response made the other chuckle, eventually carrying all of your bags, much to your dismay. 

"question about the job, what am I going to do exactly?" you asked curiously and hoping not to make the taller/shorter male confused at your question. "eh, you'll just be a male wife there." his seven-word sentence made you stop in your tracks, MALEWIFE?! you were screaming internally. "I'll explain the information inside, did you doze off in our zoom meeting or something..?" "I did." now he was a laughing stock, reaching the main door of the mansion he had to wipe a tear not to make you more embarrassed. "go on in, make sure to remove your shoes and slip on some slippers. I don't want the floor dirty..and I'll put your stuff in the guest room." you nodded at him, and did as your told.

"This is the employee you were talking about?" you were sat in the middle of three people talking about you, and I mean you. You just wanted to know about your job, not get stared down by fancy-looking people (not to mention hot.) that made you want to melt into a puddle. "do you have a thing for men that is a single father and a househusband?" a platinum-haired woman interrupted both men. "I might've. but look at him! he's built well." "he looks like my next victim." you didn't know who to be scared of, you just looked back and forth at the three people bickering about why he picked you. 

you wanted to cry, not out of the loud environment, but also because they were all confusing you. There's always one person that admires you and immediately gets turned down, you let out a sigh. This wasn't ending was it? The arguing made you remember Zephyr, your younger brother who was probably crying his heart out because his older brother left and he had no one else to spit insults to. He didn't want to admit it, but you knew he loves you. He just doesn't want anyone to know that he's a soft-hearted person that breaks into pieces when his brother isn't there. You were making sure of yourself to always check up on him whenever you both ran into each other at the university, as an older brother instinct.

screeching of a chair broke the voices, looking wherever the noise was. "I'll be going to rest now, just text me if you need anything." you sat up, pushed the chair back where it was supposed to be, and eventually went to the guest room. throwing your exhausted body onto the surprisingly soft mattress, you just laid there. till you get a notification, 'ugh. not even a peaceful minute, goddamn.' turning on your phone you clicked on the messages notification, and it read,

 'From: Scarababes

You forgot to eat your dinner, dumbass. open the damn door.' 

of course, it was around..8:50 tops. sitting up with a slight trip from getting trapped by the covers, you open the door with a ravenette who was holding a surprisingly delicious-looking meal. "I cooked it, and don't worry, I didn't poison it. sadly. Just wash the dish after." putting the tray in your hands and flew off.sitting on a chair and setting the tray of food onto a desk, you booted up your laptop to work on some presentations and projects that were due next week, you don't want to get your ass beaten by your professor. 

after eating that DELICIOUS meal you went out to the kitchen, which is the light was still on. not even caring to take a glance at the figure standing with their elbow on the counter, you washed the dish, giving respect to the one who made it. "I didn't expect you to wash it." a voice made you jump up like a cat. "scared you that much?" oh, it was scarab— Scaramouche. "don't creep onto people like that! Jesus Christ, I thought I had a heart attack." you exclaimed, in return, you got an uninterested hum as he left. you thought he was just an introvert that likes to keep to himself but hoo boy, maybe he's more than that.

but '3:04' it read on your clock, and you're extremely dehydrated and in need of an energy snack. 'i should stop procrastinating and do things early..look what it got to me." you thought, but knowing damn well you couldn't keep that thought in your mind for long. exiting your room, you see darkness. of course, no one is awake at this point. reaching the kitchen with a help of your phone's flashlight, you decided to make iced coffee and take some biscuits as a snack. "why the hell are you up so fuckin' late? it's 3 in the morning." that voice made you jump up again. fucking hell, scaramouche. you didn't say stuff now, you're warming up to it, plus, your voice was hoarse, and you weren't in the mood right now. turning away from the counter, carrying your tray of snacks, you start to walk away, "where are you going?" Scaramouche, immediately raced beside you. "wherever you aren't." you grumbled under your voice, but loud enough for the other to stop in his tracks and went the other way. 'finally.' you thought. 

but he didn't miss a day of not messing with your buttons, throwing a glass of cold water while you were asleep was one time, now completely putting temporary hair dye in your hair products. but you pulled it off with a smile that caught him off guard, was he not annoying you enough?! He grimaced, out of ideas on how to get you fuming like a kettle. You were too calm for your good, and Scaramouche didn't like that. "I'll be going now! don't trash the house too much scarababe~'' you coo at him, making him red in the face, chuckling to yourself, you left off to college to see if your brother was there of course. 

Due to your surprise, you were engulfed in a tight hug and with a yelp coming from you, you looked back to see your younger brother with puffy eyes hugging you. "Geez, Zeph~ you missed me so much huh?" "Shut up you dunce...I did miss you." you were glad to hear those words from your brother, even if it was just a day since you left the abode. "Say, Zeph, I'll treat you out later. How's that sound?" hearing your reassuring words, the brunette perked up with his eyes shining like he had seen an angel. "Really?!- ah- uhm...yea sure. I do not mind." You hum, "I'll see you later, my little brother~" you cooed at him which caused the other to flush in embarrassment. 

The college has been tiring, for you at least, your brother insisted you should have gone home, and that, he will as well, but you did not budge. Entering a small cafe and ordering takeout, you both walked to your destination, which was a small lake. No people to bother you both, just two brothers hanging out till curfew.

[thepenultimateword]

May I request a continuation of 'Second Love' pls???😳

Part One, Part Two

"Hello, darling."

Villain gave the headstone a fond pat before gathering the withered violets from their vase and tossing the old, browning water onto a neighboring grave. He set the vase back in its spot, marked by the brown ring left behind on the stone, and plopped the fresh bouquet in the old one's place.

"Sorry it's been a couple months." He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and filled the vase halfway with cold, clear water, adjusting a few stems until the flower arrangement was good enough for Other Superhero's resting place. "I've been busy with the power inhibitor. And guess what? It's almost done. Just a few more bugs to work out, and I'll be ready. So. Cross your fingers for me up there, eh?" He chuckled weakly, leaning forward on the balls of his feet to bundle up the old flowers into his hands. They crinkled in his twisting fingers.

"What's that?" Villain said as a light breeze hissed past his ears and carried away a few crumbled petals. Sometimes it was easier to pretend a conversation than to just sit here and stare at the grave. "Anything else new? Well, remember that really annoying hero I told you about a while back? The stupidly determined one? Well, she's still coming around. I think she's actually invincible. I threw a brick at her head the other day. A brick! She didn't even flinch. In fact, she broke my brick."

Villain sighed, throwing back his head to look at the wisps of clouds overhead.

"She's such a mess: clumsy, awkward, never admitting to her mistakes. Even when she wins it’s an accident. I don’t even know how she passed the exam. …I suppose she does have the rare quality of never giving up. No matter what I say or how hopeless it gets, she keeps trying. And she has a good heart. Even if she’s bought into the agency’s garbage, she wants to do the right thing. And…”

A smile had begun spreading up Villain’s jaw but he quickly quashed it, a stab of guilt lurching his stomach.

"I’m sorry. Is this weird? I know it's only been two years. For some people, that's a long time, and for others, it's no time at all...and...I love you so much." Villain hung his head. How should he continue? What was he actually getting at? Whatever it was, it seemed a dangerous thing to put into words. A dangerous, traitorous thing.

"I’m not saying I have feelings for her," he clarified quickly. "I barely know her. And our plan is and always will be my top priority. But…sometimes, when she’s around…I don’t ache so much.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his palms into eyes long dried of useless tears. “I don't want to make the wrong choice.”

The wind ruffled villain’s clothes, this time strong enough to tear the dead violets completely out of his hands. They carried halfway across the cemetery and scattered amongst the other headstones.

Villain blandly watched them go, then tipped his head up toward the sky and closed his eyes, letting leftover winds caress his skin.

"I miss you, darling."

***

"Could you not stare like that?" Re-Re said, sliding his dessert protectively out of Hero's line of sight.

Hero cocked her head to the side and summed up a confused expression. "I don't know what you're even talking--" She gave up before the sentence was even through, leaning in closer. "Just one bite?"

Re-Re frowned, successfully battling her unbreaking stare for a full minute before sighing and shoving the plate toward her. "Is this why we have brunch every month? So you can continue to break my spirit?"

Hero snatched up her fork and cut off the front corner of the flan with its edges, scraping up a little syrup off the plate before shoving it happily in her mouth. "Don't be dramatic."

"It's sort of my thing," her ex-nemesis said. "If I'm not going to commit crime anymore, I'm at least going to be a villain in my heart."

As if to punctuate this statement, he waved his hand subtly toward the waitress and her big tray of coffee mugs and juices. The tray re-winded to three seconds beforehand. The waitress did not.

For a single moment, the tray hung in mid-air, the waitress staring at her empty hands in utter disbelief. A moment later, the tray crashed into the ground, shattering glasses and spilling puddles of drinks everywhere.

Re-Re covered his mouth with one hand and cackled quietly to himself.

Hero raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. "Technically, I could write you up."

"For a joke?"

"If a retired villain slips back into crime--"

Re-Re rolled his eyes. "Oh stop being so good all the time. Sir Redo-Rewind is retired. That's that. I'm just scratching an itch." Then, maybe to redirect her attention from him, he said, "How's the new nemesis? Villain, right? Scarier than me?"

Hero smiled. "Never. Just different."

Re-Re slid back his dessert plate. "Be honest, everyone knows Villain is another level. Even us villains. How's it been?"

"Well..."

Sort of embarrassing. Villain didn't stick to any sort of script. He didn't share anything either. In fact, he mostly ignored her unless she got close enough to prompt him into action. When she got this job, she thought it was a big deal. That maybe the agency was finally recognizing that she could do a good job, but now she wondered if she was just keeping Villain distracted from everything he'd rather be doing.

"I don't think his heart's in it," Hero said finally.

"Not all villains buy into theatrics," Re-Re shrugged. "Some honestly just want to do the job. It's nothing to do with you."

Hero knew that. Of course, there were different levels of villains, those who looked for attention and those who actually liked mass havoc, but the issue with Villain was she didn't know what he wanted. Aside from being alone and making machines.

"Ok, yes," she consented, "but honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm stopping. He's always just...sitting there. Tinkering. But the agency says the job requires an everyday raid, so I have to be doing something, right?"

Re-Re shrugged. "I never met Villain personally, too big a fish for my pond, but I mean, the agency killed his wife. So yeah, I don't think he's just sitting around. Villains aren't exactly in the habit of forgiving."

"What?"

"Oh it's a whole thing: 'Stab a villain in the eye, and all you're life you'll be blind.' Basically, whatever you do, we'll bring it back tenf--"

"No, not that," Hero interrupted. "His wife. Other Superhero. I knew she died, but what do you mean the agency killed her?"

"Oh." Re-Re shrugged, scooping up another bite of cake before leaning against the latticed back of his chair. "I don't know the exact details, but it's a big rumor. Basically, Villain had defected to the agency, was doing missions with them and everything. But when he and Other Superhero were sent on a mission together, something went wrong. Other Superhero got hurt, but instead of pulling out, they were told to prioritize the mission. I guess Villain was pretty vocal about turning around but the agency dismissed it as deception. Because of his background, I guess maybe they thought he was lying to help other villains? Anyway, later Superhero was too injured to escape the mission. When Villain was the only one who survived, the other heroes blamed him, even accused him of leaving her to die on purpose."

Hero gaped at Re-Re in shock. The agency... Villain... What?

"B-but the agency always said they got into an accident."

Re-Re shrugged. "I'm only saying what I've heard."

Hero wanted to reject it immediately. There was no way that the agency would force an injured superhero to continue a mission. Even if they hadn't trusted Villain, wouldn't they have trusted Other Superhero? Did Other Superhero bluff about her condition? Or had she begged to be removed too?

If Hero was being honest, there was a lot of pressure for results from the agency. Backing out of a mission or rejecting an assignment was definitely taboo. It got you labeled as weak or in conflict of interest. A strange sense of respect came with almost dying for the cause. And if Other Superhero had been married to a villain, she would have had a lot to prove to her peers.

Hero suddenly felt sick.

Poor Other Superhero.

Poor Villain.

To have his own pain disregarded and be pinned for the whole thing.

"I...I have to go," Hero said.

Re-Re stood up along with her. "I didn't upset you, did I?"

"No. I... There's just something I think I should do."

***

Villain had just slipped his shoes off when a heavy knock on his front door brought them back to the entrance. The last person he expected to see through the peephole was Hero.

What was this? A new tactic? Didn't she ever take a break? Villain really wasn't in the mood to fight right now, but he had a suspicious feeling that ignoring the hero would only prompt her to find another way in, and he was more sick of fixing things.

He swung open the door with a heavy sigh already drifting from his lungs. "Let me tell you upfront, I'm not doing anything villainous today."

Hero gave a small little leap at his abruptness, but it didn't stop her from immediately shoving a massive bouquet into his chest.

Villain blinked at the arrangement of purple hyacinths, zinnias, and lemon balm, taking several moments to register what was happening and grasp the wrapped stems.

"I'm sorry," Hero said, looking up at him with earnest eyes. The look itself wasn't abnormal, they were usually filled with an earnestness to do what was right, but for the first time, that dedication was aimed toward him. "I asked the flower shop to put together something for grieving. I'm not sure what they all mean, but I know zinnias are for absent friends. I didn't really know Other Superhero, and of course, they were more just a friend to you, but I still feel-- Hey, what's wrong. You're really red."

Villain touched one hand to his cheek. Sure enough, his face burned as if on fire. What was Hero thinking, getting him a gift like this? Didn't she see it was too late for grieving flowers? That they could easily be misconstrued as something else? And yet, it might be the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a long time.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, bringing the flowers to his nose to hide the greater portion of his blush. Yes, it was a nice gesture, but why did he have to feel so flustered? "Thank you. D-do you want to come in?"

Villain cringed inwardly as the words left his mouth. He was supposed to be avoiding everything agency related, not inviting it right back into his life. Hero was no exception.

"Oh..." Hero hesitated a moment, but then said, "Sure!"

Villain's heart pounded a little faster as he stepped back and widened the door opening for her to step through. And this time, he could not ignore it.

...

I did it! I finally finished one of my original requests!

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villainy @distractedlydistracted

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Just once

Summary: One turns to two turns to three turns to four turns to five turns to a problem.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: allusions to ed, problems with weight, angsty, hurt/comfort

Word count: 943

a/n: eh

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me , @rafecameronswhore

Are you on a diet?

The sentence swirls around Y/N’s brain as she stares at the brand new scale in front of her. She is sure the sentence wasn’t meant in a malicious way, but that’s not how her brain thought it through. It’s funny how the smallest at things can cause such a big reaction.

After leaving her mother’s house, Y/N decided to go to a store to buy a new scale. She had to throw away the old one, because her weight started to become an obsession. It was better that way. But one time wouldn’t hurt. She could step on the scale and see the numbers without falling back on her progress.

She’s mentally strong enough.

Still, the thought of seeing those numbers go up and up and up horrifies her. She glances at herself from the mirror. Her cheeks and eyes have clear signs of crying. Her mouth is partly open because breathing through her nose feels too difficult. Like she couldn’t get enough air. The reflection looks distraught and messy.

Her eyes turn back to the scale. Y/N takes off her clothes until she’s just in her underwear. She wouldn’t want the fabric weighing her down. Her mind goes through all the possible numbers the scale might show, but at the end of the day they’re just wild guesses. Y/N hasn’t weighed herself in months.

She isn’t sure if she could handle slipping up.

Weighing herself multiple times a day only to cry because it’s never good enough. Skipping meals until she feels too weak to get up. Having no energy to do anything. Sleeping all day and ignoring everyone who cares about her.

The slam of the front door makes Y/N gasp, taking her momentarily away from all the thoughts. “I’m home!” Kate Bishop, her girlfriend, of three years yells. Panic starts to rise in her. She has to do the decision now, she couldn’t let Kate see the scale.

Kate is aware of her problems. She is the one who has helped her the most, the one who convinced her to get rid of the old scale. She’s the one who has held her through all those terrible nights, and always kept reminding her how beautiful she is.

She couldn’t disappoint Kate.

Kate’s questioning of her whereabouts go past her as she’s holding one leg over the scale, gathering courage to fully get on it. Y/N doesn’t hear the steps coming up the stairs nor their bedroom door opening.

Her breathing is heavy and her eyes blurry from a fresh set of tears.

“Babe, are you in the bathroom?”

Y/N freezes. “Yes, just a sec.” Her voice shakes, but she hopes Kate doesn’t hear it. In a panic, she starts putting her clothes back on.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm!” The lump in her throat stops her from talking properly. Her hands shake while she tries to close the button on her jeans.

“I’m coming in.”

“No!” Y/N kicks the scale to the side just as Kate opens the bathroom door. Although, it doesn’t help a lot. The glass makes a loud noise when it hits the wall, making Y/N shut her eyes.

The first thing Kate notices is the lack of shirt on Y/N. She only has her jeans and socks on besides her underwear. “What’s wrong?” Kate takes a step forward, bringing her hand to Y/N’s cheeks, moving her hair out of the way. Then she notices the scale. “Honey…”

Y/N starts fully sobbing at the sound of Kate’s voice. She pulls herself away from her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Kneeling down to the ground, she hides her face behind her hands.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Kate kneels next yo her, bringing her into a soft embrace. “Don’t apologize.” She whispers, pressing Y/N’s head against her chest. “Did you do it?”

“No.” Y/N sobs. “I was going to.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I disappointed you.”

“What makes you say that?” Kate grips Y/N’s chin to lift her head up to eye level. “You could never disappoint me. Especially not with something like this. Do you understand how strong you are? You didn’t do it.”

“But I was so close to it.”

“But you didn’t. Yes, you bought a new scale even though you know you shouldn’t, but that doesn’t make you a failure or a disappointment. Healing is not a straightforward road. There’ll be bumps and U-turns around every corner.” Kate smiles slightly, rubbing Y/N’s cheek with her thumb. “But you have me. I’ll go through this whole road with you, even if it never ends. Even if it doesn’t get easy. You’ll never be alone.”

Y/N sniffles, her crying subsided. “You’re too good to me.” Her voice is quiet and raspy from all the crying.

Kate chuckles. “I could say the same thing about you.” She whispers before giving Y/N small kisses to her forehead, cheeks, nose and finally to her lips. “Lets put away the scale, yeah?”

When Y/N nods, Kate helps her up and picks up the scale, waiting for Y/N to put on her shirt. They go downstairs and straight to the outside garbage bin. Before Kate throws it away, she takes the batteries and pockets them.

“Thank you.” Y/N mumbles as they walk back inside, leaning to Kate’s side. Kate kisses the top of her head, letting her face stay there to smell her. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” Her words are mumbled by Y/N’s hair. “Next time tell me when you’re feeling like this.”

“I will.”

[cyantomatos]

Wheel of Writing - Day 28

Pairing: Viktor x f!reader Prompt: At your friend’s urging, you begrudgingly attend a Valentine’s Day speed dating event. Notes: So fun fact, this is the first time Viktor is appearing on my blog, but this is not the first thing I wrote for him. There’s a sex pollen fic for him on my AO3 from a few months ago that never got posted here.

This was a bad idea.

No, scratch that, this was a horrible idea. And it wasn’t even yours.

The only thing you could think of as the man across the table droned on about his extensive properties was how exactly you were going to kill your friend when you saw them next. Didn’t you read something one time about the perfect murder? Something about using ice as a weapon because it melts. 

Although if this guy didn’t shut up soon, you were going to test your methods on him.

You let out an audible sigh of relief when you heard the bell ring, signaling it was time for a switch. As your last ‘date’ stood you dropped your head into your hands, trying desperately to find the tiniest scrap of a will to live. 

“You look like your evening is going about as well as mine.” There’s a wryly amused tone to the voice across from you, but the accent is what gets you to look up.

Your next date is carefully lowering himself into the seat across from you, leaning a cane against the table. He looks up once he’s seated, and for the first time tonight you find yourself actually wanting to talk to one of your romantic prospects.

In the next second his words catch up with you, and you let out a short laugh. “Depends, are you also debating how best to murder your best friend for talking you into this?” “Getting there, actually. And I wasn’t talked into it, I lost a bet.” You’re already halfway to completing his sentence mentally with ‘but it allowed me to meet you’ before you realize he didn’t take the obvious pick-up line set-up.

You sit up straight, glancing down at the paper in front of you. It lists the names and ages off all the men you were supposed to meet tonight, and you scan down until you find his. “Well, Viktor, I guess we are in about the same boat then. Out of curiosity, what bet did you lose?”

He grimaces, letting out a sigh. “My partner and I, Jayce, we work on something called HexTech. I bet I would be the first to figure out how to harness it for a new medical device we’re working on. As you can probably gather, I was wrong. I was very close, but wrong.” Viktor shrugs. “Jayce seems to think I spend too much time in the lab and not enough out ‘meeting new friends’,” He makes air quotes, and you find yourself grinning, “So this was what he made me do.”

“Well, I’m sorry for how your night has gone so far. That sounds like a truly humiliating punishment.” You can’t keep the grin off your face, and something warm curls up in your chest at the answering grin from Viktor as he shrugs.

“Eh, it truly has not been that bad. I just never really know what to do in social situations, especially situations like this.” He sounds almost disdainful, and you glance at the clock on the far wall that keeps track of the time until the end of the round and find it getting startlingly close to zero.

You look back at Viktor. “Well, avoiding the cheesy ‘I’d go through it again to meet you’ line, I’m not too upset with the whole night now that I’ve met you. You’re actually interesting to talk to.”

He blushes. He actually blushes, and damn you if it doesn’t look perfect on him.

Viktor coughs slightly, glancing down and smiling slightly. “I think I would agree with that sentiment.”

You glance back at the clock and stifle a groan, knowing you still have several rotations after this round. Looking down you tear a corner off your paper, leaning down to dig a pen out of your purse. “Listen, feel free to tell me I’m being presumptuous, but-” You finally snag a pen, hastily scrawling out your name and number on the scrap of paper before holding it out to him, trying not to look too hopeful. 

He looks surprised, and for a second your heart drops at the idea of him refusing. A heartbeat later he reaches out, fingers barely brushing yours just as the bell sounds again. He looks up, eyes locking on yours, and grins.

“Not a total waste of a night, then.”

[drangeax]

Maybe I Live First

Pairing: Aqua/Vanitas

Rating: M for MILF

Current word count: 16,155

Chapter 4: The Party

Summary: Aqua experiences firsthand the bizarre place a dating app is. Vanitas goes to Kairi’s party.

Read on AO3

 *****************

“Van, it’s not fair. I want to go to the party!” Xion begged for the fifth time.

“No! The music’s going to be loud, and people will bump into each other like drunken idiots.”

Xion rested her hands on her hips. “You’re saying that like you don’t blast your nu-metal when you want to annoy me.”

“I don’t. I close my door," Vanitas countered.

“But—”

“Xion, I said no,” Vanitas said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You know why...”

“That’s not fair…”

“Hey, Roxas’ here,” Sora said, looking through the window. He tapped his foot. “Let’s go go go!”

“If only you put that same energy into studying," Riku said, opening the door for Roxas.

The blond stepped in. "Hey, sup?" 

Sora gave Riku a goofy grin and dangled the car keys before him. "Fun, Riku. F-U-N..."

Riku crossed his arms and stared at him. "You're not driving." Sora chuckled and pocketed the keys.

"Oh, come on. It's my turn."

Vanitas rolled his eyes. He would surely regret this tomorrow. “By the way, tell Ax where I am. You know how he gets,” Vanitas called before closing the door.

Alright, let’s see what the night brings…

 ***

  ‘Your thicc’

Aqua blinked twice at the message on her phone screen. Did he just…? She pinched one of her thighs. Okay, so there was a generous amount of meat on her bones. 

So what if she was? What did that have to do with anything? 

Also…'your thicc’? With that grammar horror, the conversation ended before it even started. She sighed and hit the back button on the chat. The guy’s profile pic stared back at her with a charming smile. Shame, he was so cute, but not enough for her to ignore…everything else. She swiped, searching for something better.

‘ I am fluent in woman.’

Okay, that doesn't sound any better. Next.

‘7 inches of 8=D’

She shook her head. “Seven inches of what? What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes settled on the odd symbol as she cocked her head to the side. Oh! She swiped him away without a second thought.

‘Fun come on rub my chocolate body.’ 

Eh, how about no. Next. 

She swiped again. ‘You may call me daddy’.  

Ugh, no thanks. 

‘Looking for women for dating.’

“As opposed to what? Looking for a victim?” It could’ve been a poorly worded sentence, but she wasn’t about to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in her gut. “Better safe than sorry.”

Her phone chimed. Milfhunter_69 likes you! 

Another chime followed. Serious_Dom likes you!

“Ahhhhh.” She quickly placed her phone face-down on her thigh and crossed her arms. “Why am I attracting the wrong kind of attention? I just want to have a date that might lead to sex…” 

Something about her was not getting her what she wanted. Maybe it was her profile pic or the introductory line…or it could even be the size of her breasts. Aqua looked down at her chest, twisting her lower lip between her teeth. They’re still perky…  

“Okay, maybe I’m being too picky. I’m not that young either...”

Aqua eyed her phone and sighed before returning to it. After a few swipes, she settled on a guy that looked intimidating. 

“Interests: reading, outdoors, fishing, dancing…mmm, interesting.” 

He met all her specifics as well: tall, dark-haired, broad shoulders. Strong enough to pick her up? Maybe. Pleasing to her eyes? Yes, definitely. Her cheeks heated up at the thought. 

She tapped on his profile and scrolled through his pictures. He had tattoos and a dog. Shockingly, he seemed honest about his love of fishing, given there were a couple of pics of him and his buddies doing so. She continued to swipe through his photos.

Oh. Dear. Lord. 

There was a photo of him at the beach in barely there swim shorts. It left little to the imagination. Her eyes wandered down his muscular torso and past the waistband of his shorts. She bit her lip. 

I’m absolutely not staring at his—

“Hey, mom…”

“Ah!” Startled, Aqua dropped her phone on the floor. Ven stood in front of her, eyeing her curiously. “W-what is it, Ven?” Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She hoped Ven wouldn’t think of it.

Ven shifted back and forth on his feet and placed his hands behind his head, looking sheepish. “Umm, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me having Xion over…?”

“Isn’t it a bit…” She eyed the clock, ticking away on the wall. “I mean, no, I don’t mind, but…”

“Well, she just texted me. Asked if she could come over because Axel needs to go out for some reason. Also, Van’s not home right now, and he can’t leave her alone, and—“

“Ven.”

Ven’s face showed signs of distress. “You know, something could happen to her, and O-M-G, if she’s alone—”

Oh boy. He was letting his imagination run wild again. Aqua stood and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Ven, it’s fine. She can come over.” She squeezed his shoulders affectionately. "I said I didn't mind.”

Ven stared at her. “Really?” She nodded. He immediately hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

Aqua smiled. “Am I? Or are you just kissing up to me?”

“Both? I’ll stick with both just to be safe.”

She gaped at him and crossed her arms. “Offensive…but I’ll take it.”

Ven flashed her his signature smile before practically skipping down the hall. She wondered briefly why he seemed so happy. Not that he wasn’t most of the time. ‘Her bright ray of sunshine.’ 

Aqua bent down and picked up her phone. She glazed over the guy’s profile again. Well, he seemed alright…but maybe she should wait until tomorrow to revisit it. Make sure she didn’t lower her expectations and gave into fatigue from scrolling through profiles for a couple of hours.

“Yeah, that’s definitely enough for today.” She set her phone on the coffee table and left for a glass of wine.

A few minutes later, she plopped down on the couch with a glass…and the whole bottle of Rosé. She turned the TV on, flipping through the channels until something caught her attention. There was a vampire and a werewolf both competing for the same girl's attention. She eagerly grabbed her glass, filled it up, and settled back comfortably. 

Mmm…let’s see what happens.

Within fifteen minutes, Aqua poured more wine into her glass. Okay, this woman's too indecisive. 

Thirty minutes later and another glass of wine. “Don’t be stupid. Come on, did you not see his muscles? Pick him!” she said, pouring another glass.

Almost the whole movie later…

“He’s obviously hotter. Why do you like them cold? Team Wolf!" She took a sip from her glass before realizing it was empty. “Mmm.” She eyed the bottle…it was empty as well. No wonder she felt lightheaded and sleepy.

Shit…Again... 

That was enough. She couldn’t keep drinking like that. She set her glass down and curled on the couch as the credits rolled. 

You did it again…

Thoughts simmered in her mind as she slowly fell asleep. Frustration. Anger. Disappointment. It was her daily mindset catching up with her.

 ***

  Loud. That was Vanitas' first thought while watching the frenzied crowd around him. The atmosphere was alive with excitement and music blaring from the speakers. The smell of alcohol and sweat lingered in the air as the local DJ—Demyx—stood behind the booth, spinning the latest tracks. Judging by the drunken dancing and the number of red cups lying around, the party was well underway.

“O-M-G! You guys made it!”

The high-pitched voice startled Vanitas. Of course; if he came to Kairi’s party, she would be there too. 

Duh. Brilliant mind, Van. You’re so smart.  

She greeted Sora and Riku with a kiss on the cheek, then waved at Roxas lazily.

Vanitas stepped aside, rolling his eyes at the annoyance before him. “Yes, you insisted that we come. In fact, you wouldn’t leave the other day until I finally said yes.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Vani…I’ll make sure you won’t regret it,” Kairi said, wedging herself between Sora and Riku. There was a look in her eyes as she stared at him that he knew all too well…

“I already do,” Vanitas said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Kairi crossed her arms and gave him a look. Before she could reply, Vanitas spotted a makeshift bar on the kitchen counter. He nudged Roxas, both walking away from the redhead.

Various drinks lined the marble surface, left completely unattended. Everything from spiced punch to beer and more. There were some savory snacks as well to prevent people from hurling immediately.

"Figured she would jump them as soon as we got here,” Roxas said, pouring himself some punch. “She’s so obvious. I don’t know how most guys don’t catch on to her web of lies.”

Vanitas grabbed a drink and leaned against the counter. “She’s a good liar. It’s easy to fall for it.” He took a sip out of the red cup and grimaced, his throat burned as the drink washed down. Holy hell. The punch was about seventy-five percent alcohol and only a tiny bit of juice. “Shit. This place’s gonna turn into puke central by midnight,” he said, turning to Roxas… who’d already abandoned him. 

“Ugh. Figures.”

The night went slowly. Vanitas mostly kept close to the drinks, watching others get wasted and making fun of them. He even played bartender for a couple of girls that hit on him. None of them was his type, plus they were classmates he’d have to see again at some point. 

So not interested.

Eventually, Riku and Sora waded through the crowd of bodies and found him, dragging him toward a group of people that seemed vaguely familiar. Tidus, Selphie, and Wakka—they were good friends of his cousin. They usually visited the main island during summer break. It eventually ended with a terrible fishing trip with Tidus' dad. The others he didn’t know; Riku introduced them all, but between the buzz of the alcohol and the loud music, he couldn’t remember their overly complicated names. He doubted that Kairi knew them. She didn’t care who came, as long as there were lots of people making lots of noise.

He mostly kept quiet. New people intimidated him. Especially the group of girls to his right. A loud blonde, a shy brunette, and a girl who also kept oddly quiet. Her hair was silver and short, her bangs covering her sharp features. His eyes wandered down her form, her peculiar black leather outfit catching his attention. He then noticed the silver pendant around her neck, with a threaded barbed wire chain. She left a lot to desire in the tits department, but to Vanitas, tits were tits, no matter the size. It looked like she had been dragged to the party just like him. 

Mmm, edgy and bored. Let’s see if she’ll talk to me, at least…  

“Hey.” He nudged his chin at the spot beside the girl. “This seat taken?”

The girl’s red eyes scanned him up and down. She brought her solo cup to her lips. “All yours...”

Vanitas grinned and flopped beside her. “Thanks. So, you from here, or college on the island?”

“College.” Her head tipped backward as she sipped her drink.

"Ah,” Vanitas chuckled, “so, you know Sora and Riku?”

She looked at him and sighed. “Look, I don’t do small talk. If you’re looking for someone to hook up with, try Yuna. You’ll have better luck with her.”

Ouch. Unapproachable much…? He briefly wondered if he came off like that sometimes.

“Truth be told, the girls heard ‘party’ from ‘Seeker of Darkness’ over there, and I got dragged 

here.” 

Bingo. 

“You too, huh?" He leaned forward, holding his cup on his thigh. “Sora insisted I tag along, and once he gets something in his mind—

“There’s no stopping him.”

“Exactly,” Vanitas said, turning to her. 

The girl finished her drink and placed her cup down. “Wanna dance?”

“Fuck yes. Nothing better to do.”

“Paine,” the girl said, getting up from her seat.

“I know, right?”

She shook her head and stretched out her hand. “No. My name’s Paine.”

Vanitas stared at her for a minute. “That’s a fucking cool name .”

Paine laughed and pulled him to the ‘dance floor,’ which was the middle of Kairi’s living room. They were soon absorbed by the mob of drunken people, bodies bumping messily into others. She wasn’t a bad dancer—had interesting moves for someone reserved.

Vanitas rarely danced, but he could hold his own if he needed to. He didn’t have two left feet, as most guys claimed. Now music? That was his vice. If he were deaf, he wouldn’t want to live in this world anymore. What was the point if he couldn’t hear? Wait…that was probably how Naminé felt. Drinking made him eerily sober and philosophical. The fuck. He shook his head and kept dancing.

Soon, the crowd on the ‘dance floor’ parted and gathered near the bar. Sora made an announcement before climbing to the counter. Riku stood near the loud crowd.

“Seeker of Darkness, I want your babies!” A girl shrieked. Riku scratched his head in embarrassment. Vanitas rolled his eyes. Part of him was convinced Riku was gayer than the word ‘gay.’

Sora brought a hose and a funnel to Riku. 

Ah, fuck. There goes my ride.

“Chug, chug, chug!” The crowd chanted as Sora poured beer for Riku to drink. “Chug, chug, chug!” 

Vanitas was sure that amount was dangerously close to alcohol poisoning. Not my circus. Not my monkey. He didn’t tell people how to live their lives. It was theirs to fuck up if they wanted.

Riku accomplished whatever he was challenged to. Despite its insignificant nature, the crowd went wild. Riku stood perfectly still with a dumb grin before he stumbled and fell flat on his face. Everyone grew quiet, the loud music taking over for a few minutes. 

Oh, shit! Did he fucking bite the dust?

Sora jumped off the counter. “Chill, he’s ok. He’ll get up any minute now.”

And so he did, and the crowd cheered like drunken idiots. Riku pulled his shirt off and threw it at the girls yelling for him earlier, flashing them a stupid smirk. Yeah, Riku was definitely not driving them home. Judging by his clumsier-than-usual movements, Sora wasn’t in good shape either. 

Oh, that’s just great. 

Riku barely pushed past the crowd before passing out again. Sora waved off people asking if he was alright, reassuring everyone that he’d be fine in a few minutes. When Riku didn’t stand up after a solid minute, he gave Vanitas a nervous glance.

“Hey, Vani, he’s out cold,” Sora said, his own balance questionable. “And heavy. So help me out, will ya?”

Vanitas sighed and helped his cousin. “Why the fuck is he so heavy?” Vanitas asked as he pulled at Riku's arms. “Fucking hell, Riku...” He pulled harder, and the body finally budged. They dragged him to the stairs.

“Okay, Vani. Now grab his legs,” Sora said, pushing Vanitas aside and grabbing Riku’s arms.

“Wait, what?”

Sora let go of Riku. His arms hit the first step, and the silver-haired boy groaned. “We gotta take him upstairs. He’s not gonna wake up any time soon, and Kairi said we could crash in her room if we needed to.”

“Ugh, really…? Alright…”

He did as ordered, and they got Riku up the stairs and into bed. Not without dropping him a couple of times, though. The dickhead had it coming. Especially since Vanitas would now be forced to walk home at an ungodly hour of the night. He sure as hell wasn’t staying here. He would rather risk it and have Sora drive them home than stay anywhere near Kairi.

“Hey, Sora, I’m going out for a smoke. Then we’ll leave—His cousin’s snoring interrupted him. His eyes fell on the brunette on the floor next to the bed. “Great…” 

Vanitas sighed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned back, internally timing how long it would take him to walk home when the sound of heels snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Kairi stood a few feet away. “Oh, hey Vanitas, Have you seen—

“Sora and Riku? Both passed out in there,” he said, pushing off the door.

She crossed her arms. “So much for the ‘Seeker of Darkness’, huh?” She laughed. That giggling laugh she did when planning something. “How come you aren't fucked up?”

“Get shit-faced in your house? You’re kidding, right?”

Kairi rolled her eyes at him before approaching. “Oh, come on, Van. You liked it,” she said, pressing her chest against his.

Yeah, and now I fucking regret it.

"Still doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Yeah, well…tell that to your dick,” she said, rubbing her knee against his groin. 

Fuck.  

“I’m a guy. What the hell do you want me to do? Tuck it between my legs?”

“Put it to good use.” She kissed him full on the lips.

Vanitas' eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to dare. A part of him wanted to let her do whatever she wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or his hormones, but neither helped with the situation in his pants. He wouldn’t mind getting laid right now—in fact, he wanted to get laid, but…with Kairi? Seriously? With a frustrated growl, he pushed her away.

Kairi frowned. “What the hell, Van?! Come on, don’t be like that.”

He turned away from her with a scowl. “Don’t follow me. Personal space, remember?” 

“Vani, wait!”

Vanitas quickly made his way down the stairs and passed a couple of dancers, his patience wearing thin. He’d met his socialization quota for the day, and he really wanted to leave. Just get home and listen to his music, maybe mess around with his guitar a bit…

Taking out his lighter from his pocket, he walked out of the front door and to the sidewalk. He reached for his smokes as a familiar car pulled over on the opposite sidewalk. Squinting, he noticed a figure behind the wheel, looking lost and confused. Was that…Ms. Thorne? Yes, yes it was. He perked up immediately. The whole thing had been worth it after all.  

He crossed the street and leaned on the car, looking in. “Ms. Tho—Aqua?” 

She looked up from her phone and smiled. It made his night. “Vanitas? What are you doing here?” She asked, sounding puzzled. 

“Party,” he said, quickly hiding his lighter. “I kinda got roped into coming by my cousin and his friend.”

“Oh. Is this the same cousin you mentioned the other day?”

She remembered that. No way… He couldn’t remember what he had for lunch some days.

He sighed. “Yep…”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” she said, resting her hand on the window and her head atop it. “Why? The girl you like didn’t show up?”

Vanitas chuckled and licked his lips. “She did. Sort of.”

Her smile widened. “So why didn’t you have fun, then?”

“Not really my type of thing, you know,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t like being dragged into things, either.”

“Mmm, that sure brings back memories…” Aqua said with a glint in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. "You party a lot?” 

She hummed thoughtfully. Cute. “I was more focused on my studies and following the rules. I did get dragged to a lot of parties, though. Also did my fair share of crazy things as well…”

A car drove by them, faint light illuminating her face. There was a subtle blush on her cheeks. He wondered what she remembered so vividly.

Naughty Ms. Thorne.

Her phone buzzed, and her eyes immediately fell on its screen. She frowned.

“Something the matter?”

Aqua sighed. “Roxas texted me to pick him up earlier. I texted him that I’m here, but…”

“Give him a few. He’ll come out,” Vanitas said. “Maybe he’s dancing, or his phone fell out of his pocket or something…?” Or his hands are too busy to text back. “Hell, I’d be surprised if it hadn't, given the commotion in there…"

“What do you mean?” Aqua asked, giving him a look.

He crossed his arms. “You do know there’s a bunch of drunken teens in there, right?”

“What? What do you mean drunk?!” 

“Uh, yeah. It’s a party, there’s alcohol,” he said, pointing at a group of girls stumbling outside. A blonde girl fell on her ass. “See? drunk off their asses."

“That’s it.” She released her seatbelt and stepped out of the car immediately. “I’m getting him right now!"

Vanitas smirked. Please drag his ungrateful ass out. His smirk vanished when he noticed what she was wearing. Fuck. She definitely left her house in a hurry. And did she not have a bra?! Fuck no. She can’t go in there like that. Not with a bunch of horny drunk frat guys.

Without thinking, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, hey. I’ll get him for you.”

“But—

“I’ll be faster.”

Aqua folded her arms over her chest. Her expression turned serious. “Alright.”

He turned around and returned to the party, scanning for Roxas. It didn’t take him long to spot him reclining on a couch, completely asleep. Idiot. 

Vanitas jerked him awake. “Yo, get up man.”

“Fuck off,” Roxas muttered drunkenly. 

He pulled him by his shirt. “Knock it off, smartass. Your mom’s waiting outside.”

Roxas blinked twice. “The fuck I care? Why do you care?”

“Because my cousin gave you a ride to this stupid party, which means you don’t have a ride unless you go home with your mom right now.”

Roxas rolled his eyes at Vanitas but followed. Vanitas pushed him in front of him, and he almost tripped.

“The fuck, man?”

After several minutes, Vanitas got Roxas past the others and outside. They went to the car, and Aqua helped them.

“Tch,” Roxas brushed his mother off.

“Just get in the car,” Vanitas mumbled, pushing him into the back seat and closing the door.

Aqua sighed and turned to Vanitas. “Do you need a ride?”

Fuck, yes I do.

“Nah, it’s alright. Don’t wanna trouble you,” he said, acting disinterested. “But now that you mention it, my cousin and his friend are so shitfaced I don’t think either of them can drive, so...”

She smiled. “It’s no trouble at all. I insist.”

Well, don’t mind if I do.

A few minutes later and seat belts on, they were on their way. It was a quiet ride. Roxas had passed out in the back, and the only sound heard was a song on the radio. Seriously? Who even listens to the radio? She needs a sick playlist. Hell, he’d even put one together for her. But that wasn’t the point.

Aqua kept her gaze fixed on the road, her hands firmly on the steering wheel. As much as he liked the occasional bit of silence, he wanted her to say something. Vanitas stared out the window, eyes following streetlight after streetlight. Kairi’s house wasn’t too far from his own, yet it felt like it was taking a long ass time to get home.

“I just don’t get it," Aqua said suddenly. “Why would someone think getting wasted is fun?”

Finally!

Vanitas turned his head toward her. Cause you could get laid. “No idea. Ask my cousin.” He shrugged. “College life I suppose? They think it’s fun?”

Aqua frowned. “There’s healthier ways to have a good time.”

I bet you could show me a good time.

“Like what?” Vanitas asked, a smirk creeping on his lips.

“Well, there’s camping, going to the movies, ghost hunting—

He laughed. She couldn’t be serious. The movies? Sure, if it was something awesome like Across the Spider-Verse. But ghost hunting? Camping?

She shot him a puzzled look. “What?”

“You’re not serious, right? Ghost hunting?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” She asked, eyeing him briefly as they stopped at a traffic light. “It’s summer. That sort of thing is popular around this time. I remember years ago, spooky stories around a campfire, sneaking into an abandoned building and looking for ghosts…” A smile formed on her lips, and he didn’t know if she was blushing or if it was the glow of the red light.

The light turned green, and Aqua focused on the road, still smiling. “There was this one time around a bonfire at the beach…a bunch of us chilled by it after we went swimming. Terra hid in between the bushes, and…”

She stopped smiling and gripped the steering wheel harder. So bringing up the big guy was still a sore spot. Was he the one who cheated? Or was it her? Vanitas didn’t know, but his money was on Terra.

“Anyway, he scared a couple of us, and then we somehow were dared into trespassing on one of the old, abandoned buildings on the hill. There were rumors that it was haunted, and we wanted to see if it was true.”

“Oh, so you are serious about the ghost thing,” he said, amusement in his voice. She nodded. It was oddly cute that she believed in that stuff.

A ringtone chimed through the speakers, and the radio screen lit up. It read Terra. Vanitas was about to ask her if she wanted to answer. She signaled him to wait. On the third ring, she answered; the big guy’s voice boomed over the speaker, and she lowered it a bit.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

There was an awkward silence, and tension was palpable in that simple exchange.

“Sorry to call you at this time. I know it’s close to midnight, so I hope I didn’t just wake you…”

“No, it’s fine. I was just…doing something.” 

“Oh, okay. So…umm, you know about shared custody—I have a trip coming up, and guess what? Germany,” he paused. “I was just thinking how the twins have always wanted to go, so…”

So?

“I know it’s not my turn yet, but I want to take them with me. if that’s okay with you…”

“Sounds great,” she replied with a broad smile. Her eyes said otherwise.

“Umm, you could come if you want to…we wouldn’t mind.”

We? As in his side piece turned main 'we'? What the actual fuck?!

She pressed her lips together as if trying to keep the words in. “I would love that, but…I have to take care of some things,” she said, a hand playing with the star on her necklace. “Besides…I promised to babysit Tifa’s little bundle of joy.” She laughed weakly.

Terra laughed as well. “Busy woman as always. Take care then. I’ll text you later when everything’s booked for the twins, alright?”

“Okay.”

There was a long pause, and they both bid the other goodbye before the call finished. Vanitas felt awkward. He’d listened to a personal conversation that he probably shouldn’t have. Still, he wanted to say something about that bullshit. 

"Pretty ballsy of him to ask you to go, huh?" he asked.

Aqua flicked the signal light and turned around a corner. "I guess so..." 

"Ven mentioned you guys..."

"Yeah."

"But that really was a dick move."

She frowned. "Why? He's just being nice to me." She pulled into a driveway. Vanitas immediately recognized her house.

"Umm, you're kidding, right?" he asked, unbuckling his seatbelt. "He cheats on you, then—

Aqua gave him a heartbroken look. "That's the problem, Vanitas. No one cheated..."

Oh. But if no one cheated, then what…

His eyes widened as he realized.

Oh fuck.

[giggly-squiggily]

Alr alr twist my arm to send in a lil something…

I adore the way you write lee Takemichi and I’m rewatching TokRev rn sooooooo….!

May I request Lee Takemichi and Ler Draken (I PULLED A FAST ONE AND CHANGED IT UP THIS TIME!)

And as you know I’m shit at prompts so here’s some sentence starters for Inspiration!

“Well would you look at that.”

“Soo… what is it?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“How do you have that many?”

ILYSM AND PLS FEEL ABSOLUTELY NO PRESSURE TO WRITE THIS BC I WANT YOU TO COME BACK TO THE HELLSITE IN A RELAXED MANNER!!!

Pls consume two hydrogen and one oxygen today kthx ily

JWKKEKJRKELJRKJLEKJRKJW DUCKY YOU ARE AMAZING! Thank you so much for the kind words! And heck yes! Any chance to write for Lee!Takemichi and just Draken in general is an amazing day!

I didn't know which sentence starter to use, so I just kinda combined them all-ish? Either way, I hope you like it!

“Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on.”

Takemichi startled, eyes widening as he looked up at Draken. “What? Wait- really?” He looked back at the worn leather in his arms, the Toman Jacket gifted to him full of memories.

Mikey’s old Toman Jacket.

Now given to him to wear.

Was he truly worthy of it?

“Oi, stop gawking and get dressed already.” Draken gestured to him to get on with it. With a yelp, Takemichi turned around and tugged on the jacket, letting the weight of it all settle.

Much like they suspected, it fit well. It was a tad snug on the arms, but he could move in it easily enough. Taking a breath, he turned to face Draken. “Well? How do I look?”

Draken ran a hand against his jaw, studying him carefully. He stood and gestured the other to turn, taking him in with each new angle. When Takemichi faced him head on once more, Draken nodded. “Yeah. It looks alright.”

Takemichi felt his heart leap. “Really? Thanks-”

“It’s crooked. Hang on.” Hands tugged at the hem of his jacket, pulling it straight. “Hm- perhaps a tad small. We’ll get Mitsuya to fix it- he’s into that stuff nowadays. He can make the sleeves bigger.” Draken fussed over him, smoothing out the creases and checking to make sure Takemichi could zip it close.

The gesture oddly reminded him of a mother hen. The image of Draken as such had him fighting back the giggles.

“What?” The bigger man raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing! N-Nothing.” Takemichi stilled, cheeks heating from being caught.

“It’s certainly not ‘nothing’. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing! Really, I’m not laughing!”

“Takemitchy.”

That tone. Takemichi’s traitorous brain translated it to clucking.

“Okay, now you are laughing!” Draken shook his head when Takemichi snorted, covering his mouth in horror. “Out with it already!”

“I’m-pfft! Aheahaha! I’m sorry! It’s just-” Terror that normally would leave him trembling only fueled his mirth, and he laughed in his hands as Draken rose to full height, eyeing him dangerously. “Y-Your like a mother he-hen!”

“......” Draken stared, eyes widening in shock. The sight only set off Takemichi further, and soon he was laughing openly, arms around his belly. “Ohohooho god I’m shahaharry!”

“You little…” Draken cracked his knuckles, the threat clear as day. “So, I’m a mother hen, eh?” He grabbed Takemichi, shocking the other into sobriety. “D-Draken?”

“What? Not funny anymore?” He was glaring at him. Oh no. No no no. He messed up. He got too comfortable with them! “Lost your funny bone? Here, let me help you find it!”

Takemichi squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the worst.

Instead of a punch to the face though…

“Ah! Aheaehahahahahahahaha! Wahhahait! Whahahhahahhait!” Takemichi yelped when fingers found his sides, squeezing gently. Oh no- tickling! The worst has come! “Dohoohohohn’t tihihihihickle mehehehhe!”

“Oh, first you want to laugh at second in command, and now you want to give orders?” Draken teased, amusement touching his tone as Takemichi squeaked and thrashed below him. Encouraged, he pulled the shorter boy into his chest, tossing one arm over his shoulders while the other continued to prod his waist and ribs. “You’ve got some serious balls, Takemitchy. I’ll give you that.”

“Geahahahahhahaha! Thhahhahahank yohohohoohu? Whahahahait- Whahahait noohoohooht thehehehehhere!” Takemichi’s giggle fit only increased when Draken shifted his hand over to his belly, clawing gently. With the Jacket unzipped, his thin button down gave him little protection from the other’s tickle attack. “Coohohohohohome on, I’m sahhahahhhaary!”

“Oh, so now you’re sorry?” Draken paused his tickles, pressing his hands into the smaller man’s sides in warning. “Alright- let’s hear it. You’re sorry for what?”

“Ahehe…hehehe…come ohohon, Draken!” Takemichi wheezed, cheeks red with exertion as he weakly glared at the other. At a gentle press to his ribs, he pressed on. “Okay okay! I’m sahaharry for calling you a mother ken! Let me go?”

“Uh, fine. I suppose I can let you go.” Draken pretended to think about it before letting the other be, laughing as Takemichi curled up on himself in giggles. “Watch your mouth next time. It’s bad enough Mikey-wait; did you say ‘Mother Ken?’”

Takemichi flushed in horror. He did.

The two stared at one another.

“Draken! Wait- I’m sorry! AH MIKEY HELP!” Takemichi cried as he raced out of the room, the bigger boy hot on his heels. Even with danger hot on his heels, he couldn’t help but laugh.

He really did love being in Toman.

I hope this was good!

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@duckymcdoorknob, @baby-tickles2022

[the-enby-bird]

Destined- Killer's Party, Part 1

ugh ugh ugh i hate this. i hate this so much. but i swear if i edit it more im going to cry so. here

AO3 Link

Destined Masterpost

Words: 661

~~~

The dark water swishing around him was cold, stinging his skin. The fish he was chasing had disappeared, any movement of water and distant flickers of silver swept away. 

Killer didn’t care. He found something more interesting. 

The flickers of cyan in the dark water below him were easy to miss, dismissable as the last remains of sunlight glancing off of rocks. Something was moving below him, something big, something dangerous. 

Killer wanted to see it. He craved the excitement, the adventure, that delicious adrenaline running through his mana. It felt like fire in his bones, blocking out any emotions, any memories. The thrill, of the chase, of the hunt, was like a drug, that frenzied peace that was so, so delicious.

Just thinking about the feeling energized him, tail flicking faster as he darted downwards. The black mass beneath him writhed, cyan flashes growing larger as part of the mass reached up to him.

His soul skipped a beat, and with a quick snap of his tail he dodged the tentacle, admiring the cyan glow for a second before shooting downwards. 

Black water rushed past him as he dodged another two tentacles, navigating solely on the cyan glow and the gentle ripples in the water. 

A tentacle brushed close, too close, fantastically close, to his ribcage, something catching his rib and tugging, hard. He pulled back, already feeling the magic rushing to the wound, yet the pain was distant. 

A tentacle finally caught his tail, squeezing tight enough that it surpassed the haze of adrenaline. To his embarrassment, he whimpered at the pain, going limp. 

A growl sounded from beneath him. Killer tried to wiggle free as the tentacle dragged him into the deep, the walls of the trench closing around him. The glow of cyan grew brighter as sunlight faded, the rocks dimly illuminated to the point Killer could barely, just barely, see them. 

His vision blurred as another tentacle latched onto him, squeezing his ribcage until it creaked.

Something snapped, mana and marrow fogging up his first view of his captor. 

The bright eyelight glaring into him was filled with thousands of swirling shades of blue and teal. It was glorious, gorgeous, beautiful. He slumped in the grasp of the kraken, dumb awe stripping him of any concious or reasonable thought. 

His arm itched, his ribs were snapped, and there were bruises all over his tail, and yet all he could think of was how nice, amazing, pristine, perfect the other mer’s bones looked, the scars running along their tentacles and hand such a contrast to everything else about them.

The kraken growled when he flicked his tail. Killer stilled once more, and the trench filled with near-silence as the kraken resettled on the floor. Their piercing gaze landed on his chest, the floating splotch of red that was his soul.

“Y’like what ya see?” Killer quipped, wheezing slightly at the effort it took to speak. 

The kraken blinked, their deep voice rumbling throughout the trench as they spoke, “Do you seriously not know what I am?”

“Uh, nope. Hot? An octopus?”

“Pardon?”

“You. You’re pretty.”

“I… I am Nightmare, lord of the deep, terror of the seas, bringer of storms, god of the moon-”

“Huh. Sounds fun.”

“You are supposed to fear me?”

“Eh. You’re pretty. Hard t’ fear ya.” Killer slurred the last part of his sentence, struggling to blink away the darkness in his vision.

Nightmare stammered out his next sentence, “There is something wrong with you.”

“Dun need you to tell me tha’.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Again. I know that already.”

Nightmare closed his eye, or perhaps Killer's vision was just fading- the two were equally likely. Either way, the trench was swamped with peaceful darkness, the soft rumble of Nightmare’s voice, the darkness, and mana loss lulling him into a restless sleep.

He felt something brush his arm right before he tipped into unconsciousness, that annoying itch fading as he slipped into sleep.

~~~

all of my fics end the same way and i hate it

[builder051]

Hi! I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been feeling well. I did have a prompt if you’re up for it - would you be interested in writing something for Whoa Bessie where Bucky has a bad experience at the doctor and starts flashing back to the traumatic experiences of being in the hospital after losing his arm? Maybe Steve has to figure out what’s going on and help him?

Hope you continue to feel better!

I apologize for the length and delay of this; it completely ran away from me. I don't know if I tagged appropriately, but expect the usual with just a touch more graphic content than usual (Bucky's memories of war/event/injury...)

____________________

James has a bad feeling as soon as they enter the hospital.  It’s the same old VA, just a medical office instead of a therapy room. 

But’s cloudy outside.  Forecast says it’ll be raining within the hour.  James doesn’t like it.

“Hey.”  Steve nudges James’s knee, and James closes the weather app on his phone.  “It’s ok.  It’ll be ok.”

James nods once.  He tries shrugging to loosen up his shoulders, but everything stays tight and locked.

The MA calls James’s name. 

They do most of the talkdown in the hallway, pause briefly for the scale, though James knows his weight down to the tenth of a kilogram, and file into an exam room.

The not-rightness creeps as a shiver starting somewhere around James’s lumbar spine and trails upward into his back, his neck, under his hair.  The crown of James’s head seems like a good stopping spot, but the feeling doesn’t release.

The MA smiles, but she looks tired.  Maybe she has kids.  Maybe she’s getting shift differential after already working an overnight, bothering patients for their blood pressure at two in the morning.

The exam table is reclined, and, covered in its crisp white sanitary layer, looks more like a bed than a place to sit.  It’s narrow, though.  High.  More like a gurney.  The cot with rails and wheels that ferries people in and out of surgery.

Steve must feel his tension, because it’s his light touch that guides James into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite the exam table.

“Oh,” James murmurs.  “Yeah.”  He sits, then tries taking a deep, steadying breath.  “What’s this again?” he whispers at Steve.

“Neuro.”  Steve sits beside him. 

James knows he’s flashing his discomfort like a beacon, but he’ll take his chances and hold it together, for the MA at least.

Her hair’s in a bun, perfectly aligned at the back of her head.  If she’s working a double shift, she must have extra strength hairspray.  Maybe the MA has a military background.  But, eh, she looks too young to be in and out of service and gone through community college in that amount of time.  An honorable discharge, perhaps?  Or maybe she takes ballet class at the community center for personal time away from her yet-imaginary family and work schedule.

She’s not even looking in James’s direction, but her presence is threatening.  He tries estimating her height, slouched as she is in front of the rolling computer cart.  In a fistfight, he’d win in an instant, even though sometimes his reaction speed is delayed.  He’s not as strong as he used to be.  But the last time he socked Steve in the middle of a night terror, it had left a bruise.

“Mr. Barnes?”  Now the MA is looking in his direction. 

James is completely lost.  “Mm?”

“She’s asking about your symptoms,” Steve says.

“Um.”  James takes the redirection, but it’s not enough to completely un-lose his thoughts.  Change paths.  Make words.

James examines the linoleum floor as he struggles to string together a meaningful vocalization.  Every time he gets a sentence to the tip of his tongue, he pulls back.  He’s wrong.  He’s in pain.  He isn’t understanding, and nobody is explaining in the first place.

The bottom corner of the exam table has a wheel.  More akin to a swivel chair than, say, an actual hospital bed, but… that doesn’t make it ok.

James stands up.  His knee pops, and phantom pain blisters from his stump arm.  Some morbid, bloodsucking jellyfish is suctioned to his body, tentacles stinging around his back and up his chest.  He cries out in pain, and Steve is up and supporting him in no time at all.

“Buck?” Steve asks.  “Tell me.  It’s ok.”

James looks at his stump arm, expecting bandages stained with blood, if not a surgical knife or twelve cutting into already-desiccated flesh that looks more like raw hamburger than human.

There’s nothing.  Just a shirt sleeve.  When did he start wearing shirts?  Where are the telltale snaps of the hospital gown?

“It hurts,” James manages to say.  “I-I-I cant.  This-this.”  He moves his eyes to the window quickly enough to white out his peripheral vision.  Everything is blurry.  No, it’s raining.  Fuck.

“Can we not?” James grunts toward Steve’s ear.

“It’s just a talking appointment.  Just Neurology,” Steve tries to explain, but James shakes his head until he feels like he might vomit.  Anesthesia does that.  He half expects someone to come rushing in with a syringe of Zofran dissolved in water, hurrying to inject it into the med port on his NG tube.

He doesn’t have an NG.  James’s throat hurts from pain and terrible feelings he usually shoves away, but they’re now forcing themselves out in sickly panic. 

There’s no beeping pump on a pole, tied to him with yards and yards of tubing.  Nutrition.  Oxygen.  IV hydration through the PICC line that added a substantial scar to his good arm.

The other arm was bad?  Is that why they took it away?  He may have been in and out of consciousness during the event, the rescue.  James remains grateful to the PJ who drugged to the nines as soon as they closed the helicopter door.  But he knows.  He smelled his own flesh burning over the overwhelming fumes of smoke and gasoline.  He’s pretty sure he saw the inside of somebody else’s brain, and James hopes to god and the army that the casualty has been appropriately bagged, transported, and buried.  Somewhere peaceful now.  Like heaven.  Arlington, probably.

“I need to go.”  He can’t be in here.  Not anymore.  Not with the simple nervous system poster on the wall, practically a drawing of  what’s-his-name post-explosion.  He was in James’s unit.  He ought to at least know his name.  More than a few buddies sent him cards and letters while he was inpatient.  James can’t find even one with the feeling of a personal connection.  Strangers.  Like meeting friends, yet in reverse.  

“Can we--?”  There’s more spit around James’s lower teeth than seems otherwise appropriate.  He shakes his head again.  “Go?”

“Is it a bad one?” Steve seems to finally have caught on.  He increases the pressure of his hand on James’s back, so now it’s grounding as well as stabilizing. 

“Mm.”

“I can get you a drink of water,” the MA offers.  “Or if you want to go back to the waiting room…”

“We have to go.”  It comes out abruptly, spoken through James’s teeth as he tries not to acknowledge the taste of things long-since-digested.  It’s already risen past his chest.  He can feel the tang at the back of his throat.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Steve tries to clarify.  “Or reschedule.”

James grips Steve’s arm.  “I’m—probably—“ He feels breathless.  Almost weightless.  “Might throw up.”

“Ok.”  Steve has them out of the exam room before James has time to blink. 

The MA shouts and points them toward the accessible bathroom.  The first door to the left.  Wasn’t that a game show?  Hospital television.  Always on HGTV or Game Show Network so it’s appropriate or all ages, creeds, and levels of inattention. 

“Call to reschedule?” The MA asks.  “Or do you want an appointment this afternoon.  We have a cancellation spot.”

It’s a game show.  It’s a game.  Get to the place as fast as you can to do the thing, take care of the problem. Move the tank on the offensive.  Point an AK-37 at a couple Hijabis in the street market.  Run the course in basic, not letting the tires catch the toes of his barely broken in boots.  It keeps going back.  Football in high school.  Fucking PE class in grade school.  He didn’t know Steve then, but James would’ve still picked him for his team.

“We’ll call,” Steve says, confirming what’s probably obvious.  James is fried.  A bundle of sizzling nerve endings encased in a lumbering body.  Like he’s been electrocuted.  But electroshock therapy is generally frowned upon.  They didn’t leave him literally frying on South Asian sand just to cook him in the hospital all over again.

The MA nods and waves them on.  Steve opens the restroom door and pushes James toward the toilet, where he’s more than happy to kneel and, well, not pray.

Steve stands between the toilet and sink, prepared to help, but yet to take action.  “Ok to touch?” he asks.

“N-no,” James murmurs into the toilet bowl.  He’s in so much pain he’s almost numb, at least at the scarred tissue of his stump arm and the opposite occipital lobe.  He should probably do something with his hair.  Steve usually does that.  But not when the back of his head is exploding—no.  No.  Not with an IED.  Not with a neurologist.

“Tell me when you’re ready?”

James focuses on Steve’s voice.  Melodic.  Deepened, over the years.  Aging well, and pleasant, like slow cello music, or a bottle of whiskey.  And not the kind from the gas station.

They’ve been doing this shit since they were stupid teenagers.  Scramming before the clerk noticed the bottle shoved into the waist of Steve’s pants.  Always on the brink of trouble, though back then there was nothing to be afraid of.  Who cares if you’re caught by the dorm monitor?  Forgetting to return a borrowed textbook.  Smoking a little weed.  Maybe more than a little.

The amount needed for personal use, not intent to sell.  Just to loosen up.  To feel good.  To get over the awkward of sex.  To learn what it means to be in love.  To be less afraid of the future.

It is the future.  James has a hard time seeing it all in the same lifeline.  There’s too much.  It’s too broken up. 

But there are constants.  And things James knows he can’t change.  The weather.  The rain.  Steve.

James lets his chest heave as his body pulls in the air it needs.  His heart hammers, working to circulate his blood.  Oxygenate it.  He knows how to do this.

James tries to spit delicately, but then breaks form and accidentally wipes his mouth on his stump shoulder.  He stops.  Rides out a wave of fresh pain. 

The best thing about Steve is that James doesn’t have to hide from him.  Or in front of him.  One of James’s eyes starts to stream, but he knows Steve is there, listening, as he shakily puts shirttail to eyeball.

“Mm-hm,” James hums.  There’s a beat’s pause as he finds his next words.  “I’ll tell you.”

[zmediaoutlet]

10 & 27! good luck on proctoring!

thank you bud ;-; -- I just did #10 here, but for the other --

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I think this is an interesting question bc I don't really think of characters as stressful -- they're the easy part! Plot (that bitch!) is the stressful part. That said, when it's a character I don't much think about or who doesn't have a very strong life already demonstrated, the 'stress' such as it is can be in making sure they are themselves and not some weird generic thing. This came up more when I was doing the charity fics or kinkmemes and needed to create someone somewhat whole-cloth -- Claire in 2023, say, especially when I really didn't like Claire and was dreading writing her POV, but then I think (hope!) she turned out relatively reasonable and sounding like herself. Similarly, Mick in hazard -- we really have VERY few details about Mick's life, and constructing him into someone who'd be believable in <3k was a bit of a trick.

Now that I'm writing this out, though, I think the most stressful kind of character would be trying to write a character you know in a situation you don't want them in, with reactions you don't really believe. Again, for charity, I wrote a FHoW treatment someone asked me for in which they wanted a very abusive John -- and I did it, because they donated to charity and that's the point of the whole exercise, but my whole conception of John is specifically not as 'obviously' abusive and so even if he only appeared in like three sentences, there's this little frisson of wrongness that goes through that whole fic and it makes me... eh, stressed isn't exactly the right word but it's close enough. The problem is that *I* don't believe it, so it has this dissonant note where I feel like readers won't believe it either. (But they do, because every reader is bringing her own vibe to the piece, so me feeling like something is bad doesn't actually matter.) Nevertheless, it's a lil :< on my list of works. Stressful.

(come distract me from proctoring pls, it's so boring)

[nassilove]

Getting an S/O - Tetsuo

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

Relationship status: Best friends

Age group: Adult

Setting: Traveling in Britain together

Friends location: In Japan

Focus: Tetsuo

Duration: Medium

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

WHO IS TALKING?

Narrator

“Arumi 愛龍美” ♀

“Tetsuo 哲和” ♂

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

“You look happy."

“... Hm? What?”

“I said you look happy.”

“Mmhm.”

“Hey, what's got you so distracted?”

Arumi latches onto his arm, trying to read his phone screen.

“H-Hey- Rumi-!”

“Come on, show me what's got you smiling like that! Haven't seen you smile so much in a while!”

“For someone who is japanese you sure don't know manners-”

“Hush hush, you! We’re not even in Japan. I don't need to be overly polite.”

“You were never polite.” “To you maybe.”

“What is that supposed to me-”

Before he can finish his sentence, Arumi reaches out to grab his phone. Running a few paces away.

“Hehe!”

“Hey- My phone! Arumi!”

“I won't give it back until you tell me!”

“You could just read it.”

“Are you giving me permission?”

“No.” “Then I won't. But I will still hold your phone hostage.”

“That doesn't make it better!”

“Come on Tetsu! Tell me!”

“Why are you so interested-”

“Your smile is making my eyes bleed. You're basically glowing with happiness! I need to know why!”

“Oh, hush.”

“Hey- that's my line!”

“Hm… Okay, if you tell me what you meant by ‘To you maybe.’ I might tell you why I’m smiling.”

“You might? Come on, that's a bad trade!”

“It's the only deal you're getting. What's it going to be?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. Not like it was a secret.”

“You know how our first impressions didn't go so well? Yeah, I just decided there and then that since you already saw me like that, and you seemed to dislike me anyway, I might as well be myself.”

“Usually it would be flattering to hear ‘I’m only myself when around you.’ but our situation was anything but.”

“Yeah. Kinda funny though. But! Now it's positive! I could never be myself around the others. Well, maybe except for him.”

“He's not exactly from Japan either, so it would make sense he'd be more relaxed about the rules. Though, whenever I was around, you didn't seem to care that the others were too.”

“To be fair you were very provocative. And hey, isn't he from here? Man, I wish he came with us…”

“Next time.”

“Hopefully! If he can make time for his best drinking friend.”

“You guys drank like sailors about to die.”

“Well we did die the next day so it's not exactly wrong.”

Tetsuo smiles to himself, she always gets distracted so easily. It's nice to talk but he needs his phone back.

She was about to say something more when he reaches out and snags back his phone.

“Owa-!”

“Haha! I got it.”

“Hey!!! That's not fair!”

“It's called revenge. You should've guarded it better.”

“Ugh. If you didn’t look so happy I’d have punched you by now.”

“You know what will happen if you do that.”

“Yeah, not feeling like grappling you again when we’re in public, thanks.”

“Mhm-!”

Arumi lets out a choked gasp-grunt. Seeing Tetsuo on his phone, AGAIN.

“Tetsuo!!! You can't do this to me!”

“... Hm?”

“Look, I don't mind you texting, you look happy and I'm happy for you, but can you at least respond to me?”

“... Sorry Rumi… Give me a moment.”

She pouts, then sighs, seeing that he was not going to stop any time soon.

“Whatever, let’s just go.”

“Mhm.”

“Thought you wanted to see the sights here.”

“I do.”

“Then look around!”

“I am.”

“No you're not! I can see you're not!”

“Mm.”

“Ugh. Tell your lover I said hi or something.”

“Yeah I will- Wait! How did you know? Did you actually peek?”

“What-”

“What do you mean what?”

“It was… Just a joke.”

“WAIT SO THAT'S WHAT IT WAS!”

“Ah, damn.”

“You have a lover? Why wouldn't you tell me? Afraid your girl-friend would be jealous?”

“No. I was afraid of you having more things to tease me about.”

“Eh, close enough. Come on! What's their name? When did you meet?”

“Ngh...”

“You're not escaping me Tetsu! You have to tell me everything!”

“Ughn…”

“Oh hush, don't be dramatic! As your best friend forever, you're legally obligated to tell me about it.”

“This is why I didn't tell you.”

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 147,

I don’t don't think I’ll be making it back to the house today either.  Going to be visiting Pat earlier in the day and paying back the basket weaver with a telling in the evening.  I realize it’s probably not the best idea to be doing two telling sessions in one day like that, but eh.  The one with Pat will be casual.  

*******

Taking a bit of time to write things down and clear my head in time for this evening.  Not going into as much detail as I might like since I do have a bit of a time constraint at the moment.

In retrospect, I probably should have expected that meeting with Pat would leave me thrown through a loop.  He tends to make a habit of that.

I actually ran into him at the market forum where I’d gone to let Cass know when and where to meet up if she wanted to come along in an apprentice capacity to the telling this evening.  I wound up helping him carry his groceries back to his place.  We took care of the usual conversational pleasantries during the walk.  The elder prepared tea (“a little something to soothe the throat” he said) while I put things away where he told me to.  As we settled into what was becoming our usual seats I asked what story it was he planned to request.

The Merchant and the Blacksmith’s Daughter.

I was caught by surprise, although in hindsight it’s exactly the sort of request that Pat would make.

He claimed he had been busy preparing his own ceremonial speech and had missed out on most of my telling at the equinox festival.

I told him he hadn’t missed much.  Really not my best performance.

He’d heard it was received quite well.

It was kind of him to say that, but the story itself wasn’t very good.

Good or not, he’d not heard it before, and novelty in and of itself is a rare treat at his age.

If it was novelty he was looking for, I knew of other, better stories that weren’t anywhere in the archives and hadn’t ever been spoken within the Village.

The old man cut to the core of the matter.  Why was I avoiding that story?

I stumbled through a multitude of half-formed and oft-contradictory, even self-contradictory answers.  Hemming, hawing, stuttering, pausing, correcting myself, trailing off mid-sentence.  It must have been half a dozen times I began to get into how I’d frozen up on stage, given a terrible performance, had a panic attack, and spent the night hiding it and insisting to my friends that nothing was wrong, but I’m not sure I ever actually got far enough in to fully articulate any of those points.

All the while, I found myself breathing faster.  Throat tightening.  Looking anywhere in the room except directly at Pat.  Feeling that frustrated sensation of wanting to break into tears but being physically unable to.  Wondering why he doesn’t say anything about the state I’ve worked myself into.  Isn’t it obvious something is wrong?  That I know what I want to ought to need to say but for some reason simply cannot.  Straining to utter something simple and obviously the right and easy course of action and coming out feeling physically exhausted and futilely defeated as if I’d been trying to scale a slick wall with no handholds.  Thoughts derailed from my objective into a loop of criticising myself for my inability.  My weakness.  My laziness.  My excuses for not saying the thing.

Of course it’s not obvious.  Hiding it is a reflex and my usual patterns of speech are off standard enough to make this look not too different from normal.

Close my eyes.

Deep breath.

Raise my hand.  A preemptive cutting off of inquiries to my wellbeing.

“Sorry.  Give me a moment.  Thinking.”

Quiet.

Not calm.

But a state closer to it.

One last fleeting thought on why I can’t cross the threshold to tears despite feeling like I ought to under such strain.

Another breath.

Another, faster.

Stop.

Rip off the bandage.

I told him that I think I made that story up.  Not in this life, but my old one.  I told myself I was “remembering more details” as I was preparing, when in fact I was newly adding them for the first time.  And really, I knew it even then, I just didn’t want to admit it.  Admit that I liked it because it was mine and not because it was good.  I don’t remember much of what I was before, but I know one thing I was not was a writer.  I never even wrote that story down before coming here.  It was just a fancy taking up space in my head.  A narrative extemporaneously woven and applied to a concert whose music I recall practically nothing of.  Never even mentioned to close friends (I think I had those).  Trying to tell it here was nothing more than an act of hubris.  Selfishness.  I wish to think of myself as creative, but I’m not capable of creating something good or worthwhile and that’s reflective of my own value.  And speaking the story aloud in a moment of self-delusion was flaunting the proof of that to the world.

And yes, I realize that is all nonsense.  No one is ever simply good at anything, especially creative arts.  Even discounting the fact that I’m probably (almost definitely) being harder on myself than is necessary or accurate, things take practice and work to make good.  And just because it felt like you put a whole lot of work and effort and passion into something, that doesn’t mean it was enough.  Or it was an adequate amount, but you’re still new so any early work is going to be rough.  That the apparent failure is something to learn from and grow moving forward.

But, you see, that’s the worst part.  The self-awareness.  The fact that I can recognize all those things and still not be able to recover and drag myself out of the emotional hole.  That I let it drive me to not want to even speak of it again.  That is the real proof of my weakness.  My laziness.  My cowardice.  My unworthiness.

I asked Pat if that’s what he wanted to hear today.  If that was why he requested that particular story.  Either he asked in earnest for the original reason he said, in which case, honest mistake, or else he dug intentionally, doubtless hoping to help me work through my issues but choosing a cruel way of doing it.

I immediately stopped myself and apologized.  I had made myself bitter.  It wasn’t right to take my frustrations with my own shortcomings out on him.

I told him he didn’t have to answer that last, loaded question.

He asked if I wanted him to.

Not really.  I wanted to keep believing he was kind.  If he told me he hadn’t meant to dig this up from the start I wouldn’t believe him and then he’d be a liar in my mind too.  There was no right answer he could give and in my current state I wouldn’t believe anything good even if I rationally recognized it as true.  I said as much.

And then added before he could respond that I recognized this was me unhealthily avoiding things again, but to please, let me have this one.  At least until I’d calmed down.

He nodded, his usual smile absent, and asked if I’d like another cup of tea.

I forced a semblance of my own smile and thanked him for the offer but declined, citing other obligations today I needed to take care of.

Speaking of, I let myself get carried away again.  I’m going to be late.

*******

I was late, but not so late as for anyone to seem to care.  I’m back now.  It’s late, and late enough for me to very much care.  Going to bed.

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