#Squiggles Says Goodnight

[squigglywindy]

Goodnight everyone.

I apologize once more for my alternating bouts of insanity, distantness, and just straight up disappearing. This is not likely to change. Thank you everyone for bearing with me <3

[buckysugar]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

--

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

--

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — August 27-September 02

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

08-27 → A Twitter space was held discussing the upcoming Zhang Sanjian concert, money laundering, and other related topics. [recording] [written notes]

08-28 → Gong Jun posted a douyin of himself trying out a filter. Caption: “A bit darker, but not completely black (manual dog head)” (Possibly referring to his skin colour, as he was just filming a variety show?) BGM is a remix of Just Say Hello by Melo D.

→ The Instagram posted ten photos of “Zhang Zhehan” on a bike trip.

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a video of Gong Jun filming the earlier douyin. Caption: “Goodnight (from Gong ‘mental work in progress, don’t do it again’ Jun)”

08-29 → Gong Jun posted a commercial he did for the fashion company GXG, officially announcing his endorsement with them. Caption: “On the set, interpret the various roles; in the workplace, focus and never slack off. I am very happy to become the global brand spokesperson of GXG. Join @ GXGfashion, explore the new identity in the workplace, and start a zero-pressure commuting journey with me” The same commercial was also posted by GXG.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted nine photo ads featuring Gong Jun. The same was also posted by GXG. Caption: “What to wear to work today? @ Gong Jun Simon has the answer: don’t want to be too serious, don’t be too casual, just wear GXG to work!” 

→ Flora posted a thread discussing indications that Zhang Zhehan was approached by CAPA after 813 but refused to yield to their demands. [follow-up]

08-30 → GXG posted a vlog from their shoot with Gong Jun. Caption: “Ding, the freshly released spokesperson @ Gong Jun Simon is dedicated and handsome in his entry vlog, it’s hard not to love~~” [subbed video]

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a vlog of behind the scenes footage from the GXG shoot. Caption: “Comfortable and minimalist, look for yourself. @ Gong Jun Simon's autumn and winter reverie~”

→ The Instagram posted ten photos of “Zhang Zhehan” on a bike trip.

08-31 → The Instagram posted more of the same.

09-01 → Same thing from the Instagram.

→ Gong Jun posted a vlog of him throwing pottery. Caption: “Have a little bit of art 😎” [subbed video] His studio reposted this with the added caption: “‘Gong’ to crafting class, completed successful‘Ye’” (I tried.)

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a photo of a clay mushroom Gong Jun made, announcing winners of a giveaway for them. Caption: “The season of summer has cooled to autumn, I am grateful to all those who have contributed to the Prince's Mansion. #Han Ye Prince's Mansion Talent Recruitment Order# has come to a successful conclusion!”

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted three stills of Han Ye in a post celebrating the show ending for free viewers. 

→ Gong Jun’s official fan club posted an image not only confirming rumors of him attending New York Fashion Week (09-11 to 09-13) but also revealing that he’ll be attending Milan Fashion Week (09-19 to 09-21) as well.

09-02 → Gong Jun’s studio changed their Weibo header. This one includes a signature of “Simon” rather than Gong Jun’s usual signature. Fan Observation: Many CPFs commented that the squiggle behind the name looks like a Z. Not only that, but it even seems to match part of Zhang Zhehan’s signature.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted three photos of him painting pottery. Caption: “Challenge of not having a rollover! @ Gong Jun Simon is quite gifted for this? Not sure, look again 🧐”

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a photo of the cup Gong Jun made with a large split down the side. (Judging from the video, this was able to be fixed before the clay dried.) Caption: “The birth of a great work of art! (What is a rollover? I haven’t heard of it) (It must be because the little rabbit’s head is too heavy) (I’ve confirmed that it’s a smart rabbit)” Fan Observation: It’s interesting that they’re insisting the little clay animal is a rabbit considering that in the video when Gong Jun is painting the rabbit, he’s looking at something to the left of this one. Based off appearance, I personally would be more inclined to guess that this one is a dog.

→ The Instagram posted five photos of “Zhang Zhehan” hiking in the mountains.

→ Ranyi Music posted an image of Zhou Zishu to promote the Zhang Sanjian KL concert. Either they’re desperate for more attention and/or they’re baiting a lawsuit.

Additional Reading: → An update to the rumors from 08-16 of Gong Jun suing antis and whalers: Several of these are now confirmed thanks to the whalers in question publicly whining about them. [info about one] [another] → Harry, Coya, and Zell are organizing a fandom event for Mid-Autumn Festival, participation is open to all (except whalers)!

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

[ihatecoconut]

wip excerpt 2

another part from something i posted a few days ago. still unfinished, but i quite like this section

-

“What is that human game?” Dream asks in the same breath as he materialises behind Hob. “Truth or dare?”

Hob blinks at the coffee he had spilled – thankfully on the desk and not the papers. “Are you… are you asking me truth or dare?”

The dark shape of humanity’s collective unconscious looms over him. “Yes.”

“Fine, uhhh, truth.”

The coffee cup is removed from his hand. “How many hours have you slept this week?”

“What?” he turns away from the latest essay, which was admittedly starting blur into a load of squiggles, rather than words.

Dream stares down at him, unmoving. The coffee cup has vanished.

“Uh,” he offers weakly, “dare?”

“Go to sleep.” There is a pile of sand in one of his palms, being held above Hob’s head.

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

Hob’s laptop snaps itself shut with a noise surprisingly loud in the silence of the flat.

“Ok, ok.” He stands up, groaning slightly as he does, and skirts around Dream and the sand, hands held up in mock surrender.

Dream follows him silently, an undeniable presence at his back, pushing him to keep moving every time he stops, seeing things in the flat that require his attention. He is allowed to pause in Grace’s doorway, peer in and see her, curled up and asleep.

“She has kept a reasonable sleep schedule.” Dream informs him. “As I requested.”

Hob laughs quietly, a little hysterical from the exhaustion. “Ok, I get the message.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

It should be awkward, really, to have Dream hovering as he strips out of his jeans and jumper, replacing them with soft flannel trousers and an old t-shirt, but it isn’t. It feels almost natural to have him stand by the bed pointedly, the cover flipped back while Hob was turned away. It feels normal that Dream should sit down on the bed next to where he lies down, coat and boots vanished away to wherever his things are kept.

“Gonna sand me?” he asks through a yawn.

Dream smiles, a tiny thing, “No. I think you will sleep well enough alone.”

Hob reaches out to squeeze his hand. “G’night, Dream.”

“Goodnight, Hob.”

 /

He dreams of Eleanor. She’s on her deathbed and still smiling.

“I love you, my Robert.”

There are – were – tears in his eyes and the memory is slightly hazy through their shine. “I love you too. More than anything.”

She raises a hand to his face, he has to catch it and direct it there because she is weak, weaker than he has ever seen her. Even in childbirth, she had gripped his hand firmly, been more present than he thinks she has ever been.

“You are…” she pauses to cough, and Hob squeezes her hand to his face a little harder, “my love, you are different, from other men, no?”

He laughs, wet through the tears. “I think I always have been, no?”

Eleanor shifts, closer to him, and turns her beautiful face up to him. “Not like that. We have been married so many years and yet you look the same as the day we met.”

Hob tenses. He had known she must have suspected something, but it is the first time she has said anything aloud.

“My love.” She calls him back and he follows, helpless to do anything else.

“I d—”

“I know. You have always been special, touched by… something, help me sit up.”

He does, sitting fully on the bed so she can lean against his chest, so he can cradle her there for what could very well be the last time.

“Once, I wondered if you could be a demon,” she says, and laughs, one that turns into a cough, “but, no. No demon is clumsy like you, no demon would walk into a doorframe because I asked you to come to bed, and no demon would hold our Robyn like you do.”

He laugh-sobs, buries a face in her shoulder and feels a weak hand come up to sit in his hair. “Eleanor.”

“You are the most human man I have ever met and that, more than anything, is why I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back, unable to say anything else.

She brushes a kiss against the shell of his ear. “I know. And I know that you will miss me, when I am gone.”

“Don’t,” he says, breaking into her sentence, “don’t talk like that.”

“Maybe not now,” she reassures him, “maybe not this illness, but one day, I will leave you behind, yes?”

He sighs. “I do try not to think about it.”

“I know.”

They sit in silence, together, and he focuses on the rattling rise and fall of her chest, the proof that she is still there, still with him.

“I want you to be happy.” She says eventually, breaking the silence. “I want you to love again.”

“No, Eleanor…”

She shifts, weak and unable to fight his hold, but he understands what she wants and moves them both so she can look in his face. “Robert, my Robert. I will not tell you not to mourn me because I know that will be pointless,” she smiles, “I could no more ask the sun not to rise than to ask you not to feel.”

He bites back another sob.

“But, when you have mourned, when you are ready, I want you to move on and love again. Will you promise me that?”

“There will never be another like you.”

She tilts forward, pressing her forehead against his cheek. “No, not like me, but different. Another love.”

Hob kisses her forehead, kisses her eyebrows, the top of her head, any part he can reach.

“How long will you live?”

“I don’t know, my love.”

“A long life then. Long enough to love many people.”

“You will always be my first love. My first true and real love.” He kisses the skin next to his lips again, drawn to her time and again like a moth to a flame.

“I know.” There is a smile in her voice. “And it makes the selfish part of me happy to know that no one else can have that from you, but I would not have you be alone, so promise me, you will let yourself love again.”

He swallows back against the wave of grief that threatens to overwhelm him. She is still there, in his arms. “I will try. I can promise you that much.”

“That is enough. Lie with me?”

He lies them both back down, draws the blankets up around them and looks into her tired face. Even now, she is beautiful, more lovely than any woman he has ever seen.

“Tell me about the man you met, in 1589.” She requests, sleepily.

Hob laughs, quiet, “I could not wish for a more attentive wife.”

She opens her eyes, to smile at him, “You spent hours preparing yourself for that meeting.”

“Well—”

“You did.”

He rolls his eyes, good naturedly and gives in. “I do not know his name, or what he is, but he is like me, long lived, and all he asks from me is that I meet him, once every a hundred years and share my lived experiences with him.”

“A fairy?”

“Perhaps. I have not yet been brave enough to ask.”

Eleanor laughs, “That surprises me.” Her words devolve into further coughing and Hob abandons his story is favour of supporting her through the attack. Soon, the doctors will return, and they will remove him from the room, scolding him for exposing himself to the disease, and replace him with one of the maids. Soon, he will be pulled away from her again.

“You will look after our Robyn?” she asks, almost desperate. “Watch him grow if I cannot, and make sure he marries for love, like we did and not money.”

“I promise.” Hob tells her, because this he can promise, this he will do regardless.

She smiles again, coughing quietly. In the background, a servant knocks thrice on the door, letting them know that the doctors have arrived.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

She raises both hands to his face. “If this man will make you happy…”

He gapes at her, shocked and then amused. “My wife…”

“I see through you so easily,” she whispers, and then a hand is on his arm and the maids are scurrying in with the requested water and herbs, and her attention is turned to the doctor and the midwife he has brought with him.

“I love you,” he whispers, backing slowly out of the room, “I’ll always love you.”

 /

He wakes with a start to a dawn-washed room and Dream still lounging beside him. It’s odd, in reality, that conversation had taken no more than an hour in total, and yet it must have been several while he had slept.

“She was a woman ahead of her time.” Dream says.

“She was.” He agrees, wistfully. “She died not long after that.”

Dream doesn’t say anything in response, but he does lay a hand over Hob’s.

It occurs to Hob almost suddenly that if Dream saw everything that had just happened, he had also seen Eleanor implying that Hob was sort of in love with him, which should maybe freak him out a little more, but Dream was still there, lying in his bed and holding his hand.

Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything.

[ashiemochi]

aphrotitty - 52☢

✠ Aphrotitty ↳ Don’t do anything stupid ↳↳ does something stupid

~~ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ~~ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes ~~ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

☢ Warning: more zombies, GEORGE, mentions of blood/gore, manipulation, emotional/mental abuse, aaaaaand cheeky leon being cheeky.

prev -> next

The sense of being lost never seemed more prominent than now. With everyone clashing with what they really wanted from her, So Ah was vulnerably confused.

Everything wasn’t clicking together at all anymore. She came here wanting to find her parents but all she got was some protection from the DSO agent – whom she likes – accusations from the BSAA, a supposedly mad scientist on her ass, and finally, the colleague she thought she knew was Ada Wong.

So Ah had no clue who Ada Wong even was – all her life since they had met in the workplace, she’s always been Cathy Chan. Until now.

So Ah was nearly in tears at the thought of being unable to trust anyone – not even Leon.

The same man who made her feel butterflies days in and days out – she didn’t know if she could trust him or not. Leon constantly reminded her that he wants to protect her and keep her safe – but was that what he really wants or what the DSO wants?

Hunnigan did say it was his mission to get her safe at the DSO. Who knows if it was false?

So Ah speculated that the moment she steps foot in the division, she’s going to get thrown into a jail cell for the accusations. Leon was going to get paid for his job well done and leave, never looking back at the sweetheart he once knew. That is what was keeping So Ah on edge.

Not to mention the family doctor – Frederic Sonny.

She practically grew up with him and spent more than half of her childhood with him looking over her when her parents were never around to do so. Some nights he’d put her to sleep and read a bedtime story, wishing her goodnight after reassuring her that her parents love her.

Frederic would take her to the park without her family knowing, gently pushing her on the swing and then get her ice cream afterwards before getting her home just in time for dinner. He’d smile and laugh at her squiggles, letting her use the sharpie on his arms and face when she went through the wanting-to-be-a-tattoo-artist phase.

He did so much for her – basically being the father she always had wanted. She sees him as a fatherly figure, always going to him for advice on her health or help with her high-school love life. He had seen all the good and the bad of her, seeing her as the daughter he never had.

Why would he be the villain in this?

She knew him her entire life – but Leon was clouding her mind.

Her inner voice screamed out FUCK into the abyss at the inner conflict; nothing made sense.

Feeling weak, So Ah slowly made her way into a room that had a vent linking to the other side of the floor – to Leon.

Scanning the room from her spot, she realized it was a presentation room with a hologram screen in the centre. Filled with curiosity at what was playing, she took a step closer to watch the happy little girl run away from her pet dog.

Her bouncy locks were flying in the air as she toppled onto the ground in her little cute pink dress, laughing in giddy when the puppy jumped on her, licking her face – then a burst of deep laughter came from the background.

So Ah’s heart leapt up to her throat when it switched to the same little girl scribbling on her paper with crayons then looked up with that toothy grin when ‘honey, say hi’ was heard – and she beamed out hi, waving her hand.

It was So Ah’s home videos – this little girl was her and the people who kept filming her were her parents.

The video changed to her ninth birthday party, showing her bawling in tears when Jaehyun had accidentally popped a balloon, scaring her. Then her mom picked her up to soothe her, peppering kisses to get her daughter to giggle – which worked.

It changed again to someone different who she instantly recognized as Frederic. His hair was black and he looked young – smiling awkwardly at having the camera on him. Minji’s giggle in the back was prominent, having stolen the camera to film the family doctor.

“Doctor, can you introduce yourself to the camera?”

“Well, I’m Frederic Sonny, Han’s new family doctor. I’m 30 years old and I’m from California.”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Hmm... I really like the colour green.”

“Is our Soo going to be okay, Doctor Sonny?”

Frederic then smiled, kneeling down to get his eyes in the same level at the little Minji, “Of course, Minji. Our Soo is going to be just fine.”

The following numerous footages were of Frederic being always with So Ah. He was there when her first tooth fell, her first gold medal in Arts and Crafts competition held for kids her age – he was always there.

Then it happened; the first severe fainting episode.

It was a normal day, the camera running on a ten-year-old So Ah in the backyard with her siblings.

Minji had propped up the camera on the fence, proclaiming that future aliens would find this video and laugh – childish things. So Ah was just on the ground with her dolls, barely paying attention to her older siblings who were introducing themselves to ‘the future aliens’.

It wasn’t until Jaehyun had yanked So Ah’s favourite doll from her hand did she stand up and yelled for him to give it back. She chased after him and he was just laughing – then her running slowed down.

Her sudden energy was visibly gone as she stumbled and Minji noticed something was wrong. So Ah fell to the ground, clearly shaking and Jaehyun nudged her, chuckling as he gave her back her toy, telling her to stop overreacting.

When she wouldn’t respond, Jaehyun kept shaking her, now frantic with his eldest sister checking up on their fallen little sister. Jaehyun began crying, yelling out for his parents as he ran inside the house with equally panicking Minji after him. The puppy’s tail wagged, nudging and pushing the unconscious girl, audibly whimpering.

The camera shook and hit the ground when her dad’s thuds shook the fence, basically leaping down the stairs to get to his little girl.

There was lots of commotion and wailing – and So Ah saw how worried her dad was.

Michael picked his daughter up and ran back inside with his kids, not paying attention to the running camera that went on, and on, and on, then black.

So Ah was in tears, wide glassy eyes invested in the home videos that she thought were never existent. With heart pounding till it hurt, her chest heaved when the lights went on and the hologram went off. Faint footsteps behind her got her attention.

“You were always bright as ever.”

So Ah turned to face the man who was always there, seeing him holding a faint nostalgic smile. She didn’t say anything, her bottom lip trembling as more hot tears ran down her cheeks. Frederic’s eyes widened behind his specs and ran up to her, setting his hands on her shoulders gently.

“Why are you crying? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Frederic’s questions went on and on, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead, checking for her fever.

The lump in her throat refused to let her voice her inner-war; rejecting the urge to tell him everything with Chris, Leon, Ada, and him. In the midst of it all, her body succumbed to her doctor who let out a sigh of relief when he embraced her the way a father does.

“Thank god you’re alright... I was so worried...” Frederic whispered, feeling her shake beneath his arms before pulling away to peer into her tearful eyes; she just stared back, visibly hurt and confused.

“We can get out of here, you and I.” Frederic smiled, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek, “We can escape from the DSO and the BSAA – everything will be just fine.”

It was a dream to want that – to wish that. To return back to the days where none of this was happening was all that she had wanted.

Before So Ah could speak to head home, her radio crackled to life.

“So Ah, come in. You won’t believe who I found–”

And as if on cue, a loud roar came from the back – George was here.

Her mind snapped back to survival mode – to Leon.

So Ah didn’t notice the perplexed look from her family doctor when she stepped away to locate the vent to Leon’s dot on the map. With her eyes landing on the backroom where the map showed the vent was there, she nearly headed there without question.

Then a hand grabbed her arm and Frederic took two strides to step between her and the door, he held a firm but pleading look in his eyes.

“Don’t go.”

So Ah blinked at the begging tone in his voice, freezing on the spot.

“Unlike him, I won’t leave you after this whole thing’s over,” Frederic said, his grip giving her a reassuring squeeze to remind her of his existence and his existence only.

Guilt almost ran up her back to keep her with her doctor and she visibly hesitated. Her hold on the rifle tightened, glancing behind him then back to his eyes, having made her choice.

“I’ll... I’ll be back...” Her voice came out tight and he had no choice but to reluctantly let her go. Without a second wasted, she ran to the backroom and Frederic heard a loud clunk of the vent gate hitting the ground.

“She’s always looking out for everyone...”

✠

“Shit!”

A yelp left So Ah’s lips when she fell into the other room, groaning when her lower back ached. Hearing loud ruckus outside the supply closet shot her up to her feet. So Ah cautiously held her gun and slid the door open just in time for Leon to be in her view – and she blinked up at him.

Leon looked down at her, his aim on the mutated chimpanzee steady as he took another shot.

“Welcome to the party!”

“How long have you been fighting him?” So Ah asked, glancing down at George then back at Leon who reloaded his shotgun.

“Long enough to nearly run out of ammo, why? Got a better plan?”

So Ah looked inside the supply room, running her eyes over it from her distance and she located heavy canisters with a flame picture printed on them – it clicked in her head.

“Keep him busy for me!”

“Not like I’ve got anything else to do...”

The girl ran back inside, dodging a flying chair from the monkey, and then grabbed the stray operating table. Huffing out at the weight of the canister, she began piling them onto the table hurriedly.

“Is this what weight lifting feels like?” She panted, feeling her arms ache before putting the last on top of the pyramid of inflammable canisters. She rolled the table outside; bumping onto Leon who eyed down at the table then looked at her with an impressed grin and a glint in his azures.

“Let’s light a match and watch it burn.”

He moved aside to let her get out of the supply room completely and aim the table at the charging George.

“On my count!” Leon ordered, his shotgun clicking as he reloaded it and pointed it ahead. So Ah’s fingers curled and twitched on the table’s handle, eyes narrowing in anticipation at the closing in monkey.

“3!”

Not going to lie on her part, but she deeply believed there were numbers before three.

Nonetheless, she let out a yelp and nearly fell as she pushed the heavy table down the hall. It almost slammed into George but Leon took the shot and it exploded loudly. The hall was engulfed in flames, causing Leon and So Ah to take a few steps back warily.

“Maybe it’s too much?” She wondered out loud, looking up at Leon who grabbed her hand and their steps quickened.

“Unless we want to become barbecue, we need to run. Now.”

The heat felt horrible against her back as the fire swallowed everything in its way and they kept sprinting down the hallway, taking a sharp turn; heading straight to the gate. The flames were following them rapidly as the entire room shook underneath the powerful blast of the explosion.

Leon slammed the door open, pulling So Ah in front of him to shield her from the heat and they both jumped down the walkway, covering their head. So Ah let out an audible shriek, shutting her eyes tightly at the loud roar of the fire breaking through the door that flew above them and hit the walkway ahead of them.

With the crackling of the fire along with Leon’s heavy breathing and heavyweight on her, So Ah’s eyes peeled open; noticing that his body was protecting her – acting as a shield.

Again, her inner voice screamed into the void, feeling more conflicted than ever.

Leon peered over his shoulder to see the aftermath of the explosion then exhaled, “Yeah... Maybe it was too much...”

So Ah let out a small chuckle at that and he smiled subtly, getting up to his feet and pulling her up with the help of his hand. Her eyes trailed from the dancing flames to the calming blues, seeing the warmth in them.

“Are you okay?” Leon asked, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek, wiping away smudged vent dust from her now blushing cheek.

The way he was gazing down at her never felt so true and comforting before. She didn’t have the guts just yet to tell him how she really was. She knew mentally and emotionally she wasn’t okay.

But physically though?

“Could be better.”

His smile mimicked her soft one and his lips parted to say something but his device rang; Hunnigan was calling.

“Leon, what’s the status on Miss Han?”

“Still in one piece,” Leon glanced over at So Ah momentarily, “And I’m okay too, thanks for asking.”

Hunnigan held back a chuckle, shaking her head, “Thank goodness you both are alright. Where are you two? I’ll send in a chopper to pick you up.”

The girl flinched visibly at that, feet halting on the walkway as Leon moved ahead, focused on the call.

“One of the BSAA units is looking to find evidence to prove Han’s innocence. It’s–”

“Chris Redfield – we know. But your mission’s different. You’re ordered to turn Miss Han in till further notice.”

So Ah’s eyes stared at the back of Leon’s head, hoping to be able to read what he was thinking as he was quiet. She knew Hunnigan had communicated with him when they were separated on the upper facility – meaning Leon knew something she didn’t.

“It’s where she’d be safer, Leon. Don’t forget, your operation was and is still to keep her safe.”

“... Copy...”

So Ah’s ears refused to listen to the rest of the checking-up report, watching as Leon hung up and shoved the device into his vest’s pocket. For a moment, he just stood there as if recollecting his thoughts then he barely looked over his shoulder at her, nodding to the lift.

“Come on,”

“No.”

It’s now or never...

Leon turned his head towards her, clearly confused at her answer. It wasn’t like her – but then again, those red tear streaks on her cheeks weren’t subtle at all when he checked up on her moments before.

“What?”

So Ah breathed in a bit of air to try and catch her bearings, her eyes hardening on his warm ones as she shook her head, silently repeating her answer.

“What would happen to me?”

Leon’s brows furrowed at the serious tone in her wavering voice and he turned completely to face her, “What do you mean?”

“When all of this is said and done,” So Ah gestured around her with a grim look in her eyes, “What is going to happen to me?”

Leon had absolutely no clue why was she asking this and it almost sent a twinge into his heart at how defeated she seemed – but why?

“I–”

“Because all of you are ordered to take me in for different reasons,” She continued, “Why?”

“So Ah, you know why.” Leon said, visibly puzzled by her stance, “You’ve got the antibody to stop this outbreak.”

So Ah’s lips pressed into a thin line, eyelid twitching at the word before her heart felt heavy and her irises stung.

“Is that all I am to you?”

That rendered Leon silent and shocked – but she didn’t stop.

“Is that why you’re so pent up on protecting me? Because I’ve got the vaccine for this mess?”

Why was she saying those things...?

“... So Ah–”

“Don’t lie to me...” So Ah’s voice tightened and through her glossy eyes, she narrowed them at the man she trusted the most – or used to.

“How much are they paying you really,” She asked, “Are you going to leave once this is done?”

Leon’s eyes softened at her question, hearing her pained tone as he took a step towards her, “Sweetheart, I’m never leaving you. It’s just–”

He stopped when she moved a step back. She moved away from him, keeping the distance between them great.

Her eyes picked up on the confused hurt puppy blue eyes that she adored but right now, all it did was hurt her. She didn’t know anything– barely knew anything about him. It all showed right then and there.

Leon never fully opened up to her since the beginning of the whole night; starting New Year with a bang. So Ah was getting hit with news, revelations, and accusations left and right whilst running from corridor to corridor and room to room – and no one ever once stopped her and explained everything.

Explained the truth.

No, she was always greeted with guns and many near-death experiences from zombies. She was tired of being dragged around by people on different sides – all wanting her for something. If anything, she wanted to get to the bottom of this now or she was leaving to find her parents and get out of here.

“How long?” So Ah questioned, orbs staring suspiciously at him.

“What?” Leon returned the question, not understanding what she meant.

“How long have you known about me? About who I really am...” She trailed away as she tried to swallow down the growing anxiety in her throat.

“Did you know I was a Han?”

The world around her went quiet; all the distant humming of the engines and mechanics along with the crackling fire behind her – absolute zero. Her ears strained to hear his honeyed voice; his answer all that mattered to her. With heart pounding in her ears, So Ah stared at him for an answer.

And he seemed conflicted.

Then Leon nodded – silently – making her heart stutter and skip two beats. Tears were blurring up her vision as she observed how his eyes stayed on hers sorrowfully.

“How long...” She hated the way she choked out; hating being weak in front of him under this circumstance. Agitation bubbled up inside of her the way lava does and her broken eyes narrowed into slits when he didn’t say anything.

“Answer me!” So Ah’s hoarse voice echoed throughout the spacious room, yelling at him in desperation.

Leon flinched ever so slightly then broke eye contact, despising the tone of betrayal in her voice.

“From the start...” He replied lowly; so low she almost didn’t hear him – and if that didn’t stab her heart...

“And... Your mission... Was it too...” She didn’t even have the guts to continue the question.

Leon’s blues finally found their way back to hers, “Yeah... But you have to understand – I didn’t...”

That broke it.

“Didn’t what? Huh?” She barked when the DSO agent trailed away, “How can I trust you again, Leon?”

Leon’s eyes visibly widened at her words, startled by the betrayed tone seeping through her red lips like poison.

“No, wait, sweetheart–”

“Stop fucking calling me that.” She snapped, glaring caramels piercing through his azuls. Leon shook his head a little at the sense of being lost and took a deep breath before exhaling.

“...So Ah, if I knew... If someone had told me the plan; you know I would have done things differently, right?”

“Would you?”

“I would!” Leon raised his voice a tad to get his point across, showing his frustration about this whole argument – showing his perspective on the whole secrecy that he was obliged to do all in the name of keeping her protected and safe when all it did was the complete opposite.

It was pushing her away.

“You think I had any idea how deep this whole thing was? I’m only just as lost as you are–”

“Oh, are you really?” So Ah feigned a pitied tone, disbelief spreading all over her face, “Because let me relay what I’ve been told from all of you.”

“You’re ordered to turn me in for ‘protection’. Chris’s mission is to arrest me – for fuck’s sake – even the woman that slept with Ji Dae is here too and guess what?” A forced chuckle of disbelief escaped through her lips.

“She’s got orders to take me in and her name was fake all along – and lastly, my family member, Frederic, according to you and Chris, is actually the bad guy in this whole thing.”

So Ah heaved in air as Leon stayed quiet – something she was beginning to resent. Leon hardly ever opens up, but his face always spoke a thousand words before his voice did. He was always the silent type of man; arguments were never his strongest suit – especially when it came to his buttercup.

“So Ah...”

“No, because you know what? I just want my parents back.” Her voice cracked, hot tears running down her cheeks as she admitted defeat; admitting vulnerability.

It was all she ever wanted from the start.

“I want them back. I want Minji and Jaehyun. I want to go home and leave all of this behind.”

“Then let’s go, I’ll take you back ho–”

“Without you, Leon.”

That was when Leon realized the heavyweight of this argument – she wanted away from him.

“So Ah, don’t... Don’t do this...” Leon took a few desperate steps towards her but as he had sadly expected, she moved backwards – she was just as hurt.

Under the bright pale lights, pair of caramels glimmered with tears and she sniffled, hand shooting up to quickly wipe away a rolling tear as if now realizing that she was crying.

“I... I thought you were the one, you know?” She muttered weakly, giving him a deeply pained look, “I really felt safer with you... And as stupid as this sounds; I’ve never felt this strongly towards anyone before... Only you managed to do that...”

Leon frowned, fists clenching by his sides in frustration. He wasn’t mad at her – he was far mad at how everything had turned out.

From the day she was beginning to make a constant appearance in his life, he vowed to not let her in. To say he failed the only promise he had indirectly made for her was an underestimation. With feelings clashing and emotions at war, it all led to that same distance between their houses.

It made everything so much worse – and a man can only withstand so much heartache.

“It...”

Why was it getting hard for him to speak?

“It was never meant to go this far. I swear...”

And she misunderstood what he meant – assuming he was mentioning their feelings.

Not the secrecy.

“Then I guess we were never meant to be together...”

It went quiet again, observing one another in silence; it all was unfair. None of this was supposed to happen and they didn’t imagine it’d come to this. So Ah never received the answers she deserved ever since her anaemia was diagnosed – if it was even anaemia at this point. Nothing was right since her childhood – everything was so wrong.

It all felt so wrong.

“Leon, be honest with me...” The girl whispered weakly, no longer trying to hide her heartache, “All those moments we’ve had... Were they real?”

“Did you feel something for me at some point or was I just a mission to you all along?”

Mouth going dry at the heartbreaking glint in Leon’s azure irises and his lips thinned into a deep frown – he felt the distance between them growing as everything they have ever built since day one on a certain August Wednesday was crashing down and falling apart bit by bit.

“I d–”

An ear-piercing howl snapped both of them out of their emotional state and an enormous burnt piece of concrete wall crashed in between them. So Ah let out a yelp and stumbled backwards then fell onto her lower back just as Leon avoided getting hit by the boulder.

“Shit!”

Leon’s yell went deaf to her ears as her wide eyes took in the view behind her from where the fire was calmly snipping at one another. George’s nearly charcoaled giant hands gripped onto the nonexistent door frame, face coming from through the dancing fire. It didn’t look recognizable anymore – just charred flesh with no fur in sight.

George’s teeth dripping in his blood gritted at the duo, snarling ominously at them. Then she saw the waving slimy tendrils on his back which Leon instantly recognized them as the Plaga ones back in Los Illuminados.

“So Ah! Are you okay?!”

So Ah let out a small groan as she pulled herself shakily up to her feet but the bridge dented downwards, emitting a sharp gasp from her and she grabbed onto the railing to not fall. Her wide eyes met Leon’s ones from a distance.

The walkway between them was gone, leaving a big space where it led straight down into the void.

“Leon!”

George was visibly trying to push through the small door, his body cracking the walls around it and it shook one of the huge tunnels on the wall. It all made the walkway So Ah was on even more unstable, pushing lower and Leon ran to the edge of his side of the bridge.

“Jump!” He shouted, kneeling down with his arm spread out towards her.

So Ah tried to stand up to at least jump but it all felt like a deer’s first steps; buckling knees with the floor beneath swaying. Still, her adrenaline was set to maximum, horror-stricken eyes unable to look away from the unfathomable high distance from her to the ground below – if it was even there.

“C’mon, hurry up!”

The girl whimpered, glancing behind her and her heart dropped at the sight of George being halfway out – and that pushed her to jump.

“Gotcha –!”

A scream left her throat when her entire body went full-on alert mode at the strong tendril around her ankle, slithering all the way up her leg and thigh; gripping tightly. Leon’s grasp on her arm hardened as she hung from the edge.

“Just hold on!”

She was hyperventilating, her petite fingers digging into his skin as his other hand shot down to keep her in place. George’s loud roars along with the commotion of the walls falling apart all became a deafening ring to the duo’s ears.

So Ah swung her free arm to grab onto the edge of the pathway for leverage but it was futile, emitting a loud yelp as the grip around her leg squeezed hard. Leon’s boots were set on either side of the railings, brows furrowed into a tight crease as he gritted his teeth.

With the suffocating weight of the mutated chimpanzee, the pathway Leon was on dented low. So Ah’s heart skipped tons of beats, crying out when her arm almost slipped from Leon’s hold.

“Hold on, alright?! I got you!”

Everything came crashing down around her at the realization – he can’t save her. He won’t be able to without letting himself fall too.

“Leon, you–”

The pathway let out a croaking groan that mimicked the tunnel coming out of its hinges, causing her to peer over her shoulder, colour fading from her face at the slightly swaying tunnel. George didn’t seem to have noticed it, only focused on the two humans in the room.

“You need to get out of here–”

“Like Hell I’m leaving you.” Leon snapped, grunting at the weight as he glared down sharply at her in determination.

“Leon, please!”

George stood on the other walkway as he wobbled from his pained burns, struggling to stay on his side of the bridge which just dented lower even more and inevitably pulling So Ah with him. A blood-curdling cry emitted from So Ah when she felt herself almost fall.

“Shit!”

Leon’s balance dropped for a second, hand shooting out to grab onto the railing as his feet lost their hold on said railings. His hold on her arm slipped till he was holding onto her hand, eyes narrowing down at her terror-etched face. A yelp squeezed out of her at this gut-wrenching tug of war replica.

Her arm dropped from the edge, further out of her reach – now just hanging onto Leon’s hand. Her eyes shakily looked down at the distant fall as she took in a trembling breath when she returned her eyes back up at him.

It was futile. There was no way. With George practically using her for his advantage to feebly keep him from falling down and Leon close to losing his grip on the railing, it was all clear.

Leon can’t save everyone.

“You have to let go.” So Ah whimpered out to Leon whose eyes were beginning to glisten and furrow at the loathing déjà vu – why was he back in Raccoon City again?

“Don’t do this... Please.”

A tear rolled down from the corner of her eye, choking out a strained breath under the pressure on her body’s lower half. A weak cry came from her as the hold on her hand was slowly but surely slipping, grip practically shaking at how bruising it was to keep her alive – to keep her with him.

George let out a scream when the pathway beneath him finally gave in along with the tunnel, ultimately yanking her out of Leon’s desperate grasp.

“No!”

Everything went slow yet so fast – the agent’s arm was still reaching out, aching for the falling girl’s hand as his eyes couldn’t be torn away from her steadily shrinking form next to George’s. The tunnel whined lowly as it dropped after them, breaking the rest of the pathway the ape was on and nearly hit Leon’s but it only wafted past his deflated form.

His luck went as far as that.

In utter distraught, he collapsed onto his knees as the world around him eventually resumed back to the low humming of the mechanism but it was different. She wasn’t there anymore. She was gone and it was his entire fault – he believed.

If he had only explained everything from the beginning, given her all the answers she needed and successfully avoided that argument, none of this would’ve happened. She would still be around smiling at him, shying away from his teasing comments, laughing at his jokes – she would still love him.

But she was gone and there was no way he could bring her back.

“Leon? Leon, come in!”

Who was even that anymore?

Was everything still worth fighting for?

She kept him going and gave him a reason to continue fighting on – but she was fucking gone.

“I found files pertaining So Ah’s case – it proves her and her parents’ innocence. Frederic used to work for Umbrella back in Raccoon City... It’s all here. This could be used for evidence.”

Fuck, that all added salt to injury.

“Leon? Are you okay? Where’s So Ah? Did you get separated again?”

“No, she’s... She’s gone...”

“What do you mean gone? Where is she?”

“I – I tried, Chris... So Ah’s dead...”

[runtedfiction]

immediately

day 4: trust @zelinkweek2021

ao3

AN: sometimes it's like, wow. i don't care about plot. i don't care about good writing. i want hand holding and cudz

* * *

It's easier to talk at night.

* * *

“When were you most annoyed with me?”

Link doesn't know why she can't just sleep. Maybe it's the whole just-came-back-from-being-a-goddess-for-a-century thing, but still. Yeesh.

She pokes his cheek. “I know you’re awake. You haven’t started snoring yet.”

He tightens his arm around her waist and scoots a bit closer. “Zelda. I think it's 2AM.”

“Please?”

He can picture her eyes pleading.

“I barely remember anything. I know, like, eighteen things.”

“I know, I know.” She gets quiet for a bit. “I’m sorry. But it can be from the past month too.”

“Well, you're being annoying right now,” he says. She harrumphs. “But let me think.”

“Yay.”

He pauses, and she accuses him of sleeping, but he really isn’t (maybe just on the border of dozing off). It’s strange how clearly you remember things when your past is composed of eighteen pieces. It’s easy to recreate exact scenes and examine them over and over.

“Ok, I got it.”

“Tell me, tell me.”

“The most annoyed I’ve ever been with you, and believe me, there’ve been a lot of times—” he stops for dramatic effect, and she shoves him a little “—is probably the Kara Kara Bazaar Incident.”

“Oh,” she says, sounding surprised. “Really?”

“Okay, well.” He struggles to put this politely, and decides he can’t. “My guess is you lied to me, ran somewhere I couldn’t find you, and then almost died. I can’t remember, of course, but my guess is that’s what happened. That’s the only way I would've let you out of my sight.”

His eyes have adjusted to the darkness; he can see her face when he runs a hand across her cheek.

She smiles, but it doesn't look happy. “Ok, that’s fair. I think for the entirety of our time in the desert I was trying to lose you.”

Something about staying up late together makes it easier to talk. “Well I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Yeah,” she says, squeezing him briefly, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.” He squeezes her back. “You’re here.”

Unfortunately, he's wide awake now. After ten minutes of trying to feel sleepy again with no luck, he asks, “Hey. When were you most annoyed with me?”

She snorts and turns over to face him again. “Oh, when wasn’t I annoyed with you?”

It’s his turn to act prickly. “Hm.”

“But,” she says diplomatically, “one could argue, it was unfair to be so annoyed in those few months we spent together.”

“One could agree with that sentiment.”

“Hm. I’m thinking. You want to hear about something you don't know yet, I’m guessing?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, I’ve got it.”

“Lay it on me.”

She starts tracing mindless squiggles on his arm. “The first time I met you.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“Just listen. I remember it so clearly--exactly where I was when my father summoned me, what the light looked like streaming through the castle’s halls as I walked towards the throne room. It was the hour just before sunset--everything was golden when I opened the doors.

“And there you were, standing so tall and quietly. And I knew exactly who you were; everyone did. You were the chosen one, the boy who could throw men twice your age over your shoulder since you were, something like, five years old.

“And when my father introduced us, he told me that from now on I could trust you with my life. I said nothing and still you looked up at me.” She grabs his hand. It’s instinct now to thread his fingers through hers. “No one else had looked at me like that in a while—so plainly, without judgement. My friends were always worried, my father disappointed, my elders disapproving. It made me like you immediately, and I hated you for being so perfect.

“And,” she’s laughing now, “you were so cute. It really pissed me off. Hylia gave you every single superpower and couldn’t even give me a glowing hand, and now I supposedly needed you. And you were attractive. You could’ve at least done me the favor of being ugly.”

He laughs. “I’m sorry I caused you so much distress.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Thank you,” he says after a bit. He likes it when Zelda tells stories: the cadence of her voice, the way she uses her hands to describe things. How he suspects she’s giving him every detail so he can picture it and store it as a memory. (He tucks this one close to his chest.)

“Ok, just one more question.” She’s grinning the way she does when she knows she’s trolling. “What’s the second most annoying thing about me.”

He turns around in protest. “When you don’t let me sleep.”

She drapes an arm over his waist. “I know you just want to be spooned.”

He smiles into his pillow. She liked me immediately. “Night.”

“Goodnight.”

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Let Me Do The Work (Aaron Hotchner x Reader) Smut

Summary: Hotch has always been a workaholic. It takes a special someone a long time to convince him to take a break.

AN: This is my first gender neutral smut! Let me know how you found it <3 Thank you to @sunlight-moonrise, @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @winterscaptain​ for being my beautiful betas on this one

Smut warnings: Blowjob, reader bottoms from the top, Hotch goes down on the reader

It had been two hours since Hotch had read a bedtime story to Jack over the phone, saying goodnight and promising to be back home the following evening.

The jet was grounded. The team was staying in their motel for the fourth night in a row. Everyone had either gone out or vacated to their rooms for an early night – apart from Hotch. An hour was spent clearing up some of the paperwork mountain, then he made the fruitless effort of driving back to the motel in hopes that the change in scenery would spark motivation.

The lamp glowing over the desk flickered again, but Hotch didn’t have to restrain any frustrations. His pen scribbled away at the paper,

A light knocking drew a sliver of his attention away.

“It’s open,” Hotch spoke up.

The door opened, letting in the stale light of the hallway for the briefest of moments before a shadow crossed it and the door was closed once again. Soft steps padded across the carpet.

Warmth enveloped Hotch’s body as two arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to lean back in the chair. A familiar smell swayed him with the embrace. It was not helping him focus on the paperwork, his eyes now drooping shut. As he felt his captor press a kiss against his temple, Hotch reached his free hand up to squeeze one of the forearms that locked him in a cuddle. His pen still scratched the files.

“I thought you were going out,” He said, his voice low in the darkness of the room.

“The team’s still out. But I didn’t feel like it,” Y/N replied. The words from their mouth tickled Hotch’s right ear as they were spoken. They released him slowly, but their hands dragged across his collarbones, up to his shoulders where they dug their thumbs into his shoulders. It drew a groan of relief from Hotch’s chest before he even recognised that he had made such a noise.

“I’ve still got paperwork.” Hotch tilted his head back and looked at Y/N upside down. They were wearing their pyjamas and a hoodie over their shirt.

“You’ve always got paperwork,” teased Y/N, bumping their nose against Hotch’s. He let out a sigh as Y/N pressed their mouth against his. Such a kiss had only been attempted one other time, in his office and with Jack outside the door bursting out that they were doing the Spiderman kiss. Y/N had jumped and knocked teeth with Hotch. Hence why they had not attempted another until now.

Y/N moved Hotch’s head back down to face his desk, running their fingers through his silky hair with one hand whilst returning the other to massage his left shoulder.

They hummed along with him, “Take the rest of the night off, it’s been a long one.”

Further supporting their point, they pushed Hotch back in his chair so they could sit on his desk. Before he could protest again, Y/N had undone the top button and loosened the tie

“I can’t do that, Y/N.”

Y/N pouted playfully at him as their knees came against the chair between his spread legs. Hotch couldn’t help but kiss them, let his partner sweeten the deal in their attempt to convince him to stop working. Their lips bounced off each other in teasing pecks.

After losing count of those little kisses, Y/N offered, “I can help you with the paperwork if you want.”

They knew full well that neither of them wanted to do the paperwork. Hotch let out a short hum again but didn’t make any effort to stop kissing them.

“Come on, honey, come to bed.”

That was the turning point. Y/N felt Hotch’s heavy breath at the pet name, one saved for when they were alone together. It had been a long time since he had heard it. Stealing the advantage, Y/N slid his suit jacket off his shoulders. Hotch replaced his hands on their lower back. Two of his fingers lifted beneath their shirt, pressing into Y/N’s skin.

“I’m tired,” He mumbled against Y/N’s mouth, “Too tired.”

Y/N pulled away, “I know, you’ve been working hard as usual.” And they stroked over his cheeks with their thumbs, adoration in their eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Aaron, so grateful for all the work you do for this team.”

Hotch’s eyes drooped shut. There was a hint of a smile on his lips as Y/N kissed the corners of his mouth. Their hands closed around his collar, peeling it away so that they could kiss the side of his neck.

“Let me take care of you, Aaron.”

They pulled Hotch up by the collar, firm but gentle; those hands that carried him to his feet unbuttoned his shirt. Their fingertips ghosted over his skin before applying any kind of pressure. All those scars and hairs and moles were theirs to touch, and Hotch was rendered breathless at how in awe they were of him. He let them guide him towards the bed, their hands back on his shoulders so that, when they reached it, Y/N just had to press down gently, sinking Hotch onto the mattress.

Pulling their hoodie and sleep shirt over their head in one swoop, Y/N discarded it along with their underwear. All under Hotch’s gaze that dragged leisurely across their body. With his legs being moved together, Hotch ran his fingertips and down Y/N’s sides until they had him laying on his back, kneeling over his groin.

Y/N pushed away his hand as it attempted to find its own way between Y/N’s legs When Hotch went to protest, Y/N silenced him with a knowing smile.

“I’m taking care of you tonight, honey,” they reminded him.

And they stood by what they said.

Y/N was gentle as they finished undressing him, leaving Hotch bare and beautiful beneath them. The simplest brush between their skin and his sent goosebumps up his body. It was almost overwhelming as Y/N bent his legs, pushing them apart - presenting him for their pleasure as well as his. Their cheek tilted against Hotch’s left knee. Hotch waited and watched Y/N, blinking slowly and smiling away at him.

“You alright there?”

“Hmm.” Y/N looked so lovestruck that it was unsurprising that they were unaffected by his remark, “Just taking my time.”

Hotch felt his cheeks flush as Y/N kissed where their head had rested. He forgot any embarrassment on asking them to hurry up, but he held back regardless. Y/N said they were going to take care of him. He could be patient for a while longer.

At their own pace, Y/N continued forging a path of kisses up Hotch’s thigh. They listened to Hotch’s breathing blending with sighs and glanced up to watch his behaviour slip into dazed bliss. God, he just looked so beautiful when he let himself go. Rare, but just gorgeous. And Y/N wanted more of it. They masked their own impatience in their long and low exhale as they finally took Hotch’s cock into their mouth.

That flush on Hotch’s cheeks had spread to his neck. How the warmth of Y/N’s mouth, their tongue flat against his cock, held him in pleasure and yearning, it was delicious. Twisting the sheets brought no relief; he anchored a hand on the back of Y/N’s head instead.

As if to reply, Y/N fanned the fingers of their free hand across his chest and used the other hand to tease more delight from between their own legs. They were lavished in the taste of Hotch’s arousal, sweeter than his favourite pet name. Alternating between humming around the head and taking as much into their mouth as they could while sucking down hard proved the best method of extracting the response they were after.

Hotch was lost in his feelings. His eyes were on the ceiling, a particular crack that squiggled through the paint. A distant touch told him that Y/N was rolling the condom onto his cock, but he didn’t see them prep themselves, only a glimpse of them leaning close to whisper in his ear.

“Relax, honey.”

They reached beneath them and tugged his cock before they lined it against their sex. Hotch slapped his hands down on their thighs as they sank down upon him, gripping tight. A hushed “fuck” pushed out of his throat.

“Aaron Hotchner, wash your mouth out,” Y/N scolded playfully. Hotch let out a laugh in spite of himself. Sitting up, his hands covering the expanse of their back as they bottomed out on him. His smile pressed against Y/N’s as they combed through his hair, their nails scratching his scalp.

Rolling their body up against Hotch’s, Y/N began to grind on his cock. Hotch’s nails bit into Y/N’s thighs, pulling them down harder upon him in protest of the slow pace. Eyelids creased shut, unable to watch for long. Lips grazed over each other without attempting to coordinate a better kiss.

To hear Y/N moan, utter under their hot breath “yes” over and over, there was nothing sexier and it was no surprise that he was quick to orgasm with Y/N clenching around his cock.

Entirely spent, he fell back onto the bed and took Y/N with him. He cradled their head as he kissed the air beside their cheek.

“I’ve got to pee,” Y/N mumbled, eyes still closed as they eased off him. They shared a quick gasp at the motion.

Hotch heard their feet on the carpet, then on the vinyl of the bathroom before the door closed. Sitting up, he pulled off the condom, tied a knot in it and tossed it into the bin beside the desk. His arms began stretching with a grunt as he felt a click. They reached out to the sides once he had landed onto his back - definitely not reaching out in vain for Y/N.

A clinking of glass being placed on the bedside table told him to lift the covers up. Sure enough, Y/N dove underneath, pressing their cooling body up against his. They rested their nose against the curve of his neck, tickling as they breathed in his company.

“Honey, I can hear you doing paperwork in your head.”

“Sorry.”

“Go to sleep,” Y/N ran a finger in the groove of his collarbones, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A small quirk of his eyebrow, and Hotch’s eyes rolled back as he closed them. If the promise of waking up beside his significant other had been broached earlier, he wouldn’t have put up such a fight.

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Hotch woke up first as usual. It was quarter past seven, forty-five minutes before they were due back at the station. He stretched himself again, linking his fingers together as he reached for the ceiling, flexing them as far as he could. The crack from last night was still there. Bubbles in his knuckles popped, disturbing Y/N who had curled up in most of the covers beside him.

“How’d you sleep?” They mumbled as they rolled over to see him. A soporific smile grew once they’d seen the state of Hotch’s hair – floppy from its time pressed in the pillow.

That smile broadened as Hotch lazily touched a curled finger to their lips, “Better than I have in a while.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Hotch pushed off the covers, Y/N clung to them as they waited for him to rise and ready himself for the day ahead. Thus began a minor wrestling match between the two as Hotch hid himself beneath the covers.

Y/N asked, although they knew the answer already as Hotch’s hands groped at their hips to lie them on their back, “Where’d you think you’re going, Mister?”

“Going to return the favour,” replied the bump under the bed sheets.

Y/N parted their legs to feel such gentle kisses on their thighs in the same spots they had chosen for Hotch the night before. His cheek, they could feel its patch of blunt stubble. Their hands wrung the tops of the covers against their sternum.

His attentive tongue found them, well versed in how to please. Y/N’s legs bent and they lost sight of Hotch’s lump. But they never lost how it felt to have his mouth, his hot and talented and giving mouth, loving on them or the deep rumble of his voice that purred in response to every other call of longing from the now wakeful Y/N.

But the haze of a morning fuck before even stepping out of bed soon lifted. Propped up on their elbows, Y/N went to unexpected mirth.

“I can see your feet poking out the duvet,” They giggled and dropped back against the pillows. Their heel slid down Hotch’s back, pushing the covers off so they could see his smirking disbelief. Hair sticking up, his cheeks pink, he shook his head at them fondly.

“All this so I won’t smell your morning breath,” Y/N said through a sigh, “Bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Not at all.” And he leant in to Y/N’s touch as they pushed a hand through his hair again.

“Honey, we’ve got work in less than an hour.”

“And I had work right in front of me, didn’t stop you then.”

“It wasn’t a favour, you know? You don’t have to.”

Hotch stopped for a moment, then he rested his chin on their stomach, his hands stroking in ticklish delight over their skin. He licked his lips before he echoed their words:

“Let me take care of you, Y/N.”

[i-make-random-song-parodies]

Historically accurate Hamilton

Hamilton faces a lot of criticism because of its historical inaccuracies, but people seem to forget that it isn’t supposed to be completely accurate. It’s historical fiction, and many details were tweaked to make the musical run more smoothly, make more sense, and generally be easier for an audience to follow. To emphasise my point, I rewrote some of Hamilton to show what it might have been like if it was completely historically accurate (or, parts of it. I’m not rewriting an entire musical).

NB: I am by no means a historical expert. The following is meant for comedy purposes only

For songs where multiple people sing, the speaker will be denoted by the following letters: B – Burr, H – Hamilton, L – Lafayette, J – John Laurens, M – Hercules Mulligan, T – Thomas Jefferson,

Use of the squiggles (~~~~~) means some of the song was skipped

I think that’s everything! Enjoy the musical!!!!!

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

Aaron Burr – Historically accurate

~~~~~

B: You punched the bursar?

A: Nope

~~~~~

Showtime! Showtime! Yo!

J: I’m John Lauren’s, in the place to be! It’d make sense for you to meet all three Of us together, but unfortunately It’s gonna be a while ‘til you finally meet me!

L: Oui oui, mon ami, je m'appelle Lafayette! And just like Laurens, I have not arrived yet I sing from afar and I say “bonsoir” To these strangers at the bar, they do not know moi

M: Brrrah brraaah! I am Hercules Mulligan Talking to myself, cos I don’t have a single friend Wait, I’m already friends with Alex Ham, And this introduction’s pointless, cos he knows who I am! No more people, we need a solution The two of us alone can’t start a revolution!

Well, if it ain't the prodigy of Princeton college! Aaron Burr! Give us a verse, drop some knowledge!

B: Good luck with that, you’re all on your own, Even Hamilton can’t start a revolution alone

M: Burr, the revolution's imminent. What do you stall for?

H: If you stand for nothing Burr, what’ll you fall for?

M: Who? Who are you?

H: ….. Hamilton? Your friend?

M: Oh. Right. Yea.

*awkward pause, then lights go down*

The Story of Tonight – Historically accurate

M: Raise a glass to the two of us

H: Why are there so few of us?

M: Not much is happening tonight

H: I need another drink tonight

M: They will forget about tonight

The Schuyler Siblings:

Angelica, Eliza, John, Philip, Rensselaer, Cornelia, Catherine, and Peggy The Schuyler siblings Angelica, Peggy, Eliza, John, Philip, Rensselaer, Cornelia, Catherine WORK!

The 25 Duel Commandments

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

It’s the 25 duel commandments It’s the 25 duel commandments

Number 1:

Instead of giving a concise set of rules, To explain to the audience the basics about duels We’re gonna list every single commandment and derail The entire musical with unnecessary detail

Number 2:

Lee’s second wasn’t Aaron Burr it was his friend Major Evan Edwards, who you’re never gonna see again As Burr isn’t here, we miss some foreshadowing And Alexander’s death might not be as heart-shattering

Number 3:

Okay folks, this is taking too long We don’t have time for 25 commandments in one song By the time we finish you’ll have stopped paying attention So let’s just finish this, while there’s still some apprehension

Number 24: Look ‘em in the eye, aim no higher Summon all the courage you require Then count

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Number 25 paces fire!

Cabinet battle #1 – Historically Accurate

W: Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor

T: Life liberty and the pursuit of happiness We fought for these ideals we shouldn’t settle for less But I’m quiet and reserved, and not a fan of fighting So I’m just gonna give you my objections in writing

W: Thank you, Secretary Jefferson Secretary Hamilton, your response

H: Thomas, that was a real nice declaration You speaking up at all is a cause for celebration But obviously, there isn’t that much to discuss Seeing as you didn’t kick up much of a fuss My new financial system is a masterpiece Our debts will be sorted, our independence will increase Tell me if you have any suggestions or notes But I have high hopes that I can rely on your votes

W: Great. Meeting concluded.

Cabinet Battle #2 – Historically Accurate

W: The issue on the table, France is on the verge of war with England And do we provide aid and troops to our French allies Or do we stay out of it, remember My decision on this matter is not subject to congressional approval The only person you have to convince is me Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor, sir

T: I’d really like to help out France But I’m still too shy to make a whole song and dance

W: Thank you Secretary Jefferson. Secretary Hamilton, your response

H: Jefferson’s dumb, let’s not get involved I’m sorry but not every problem can be solved By recklessly running to join the fight We stay out of it. Thank you, and goodnight.

W: Hamilton’s right. Hamilton, draft a statement of neutrality

T: Did you forget Lafayette?

H: Nope

T: Ok then

Burn – Historically Accurate

~~~~~

I’m erasing myself from the narrative Historians have no idea how Eliza reacted So neither will you Sorry, but for historical accuracy this song is through

The world was wide enough – Historically Accurate

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

There are 25 things you need to know There are 25 things you need to know

Number 1:

This duel was a long time coming You’d have known that if we hadn’t skipped most of the foreshadowing

Number 2:

A bunch of secondary characters were there I’d list all their names but you probably don’t care

Number 3:

The election wasn’t the main reason for Our duel. Hamilton, the bastard, son of a whore Tried to undermine me in my gubernatorial race So I told him “if you have something to say, name a time and place”

~~~~~

Number 24:

Look him in the eye aim no higher Summon all the courage you require Then count

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Number 25 paces fire!

He aims his pistol over my shoulder, and fires. I strike him right between the ribs

~~~~~

BONUS SONG:

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story – Historically Accurate Summary

Let me tell you what I wish I’d known When I was young and dreamed of glory You cannot write A good, historically accurate story

Lin Manuel Miranda I’ll give him this His Hamilton musical is a work of art I couldn’t correct it if I tried And I’ve tried

Lin Manuel Miranda He took your country from knowing nothing about Hamilton to knowing at least some stuff about him I’m happy to admit it He deserves all the credit he gets

A historically inaccurate but still incredible story

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

You still here? Well congrats for making it this far!!! I hope you enjoyed, please (please) leave a comment if you enjoyed it, I survive purely on the validation I receive from others, and feel free to send me requests if you want :)

Credit to where I got all my info:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zhrVjfVmAow&t=518s

https://www.tampabay.com/life-culture/2020/07/03/politifact-fact-checking-hamilton-the-musical/

https://screenrant.com/hamilton-historical-inaccuracies-wrong-true-story/

[cake-writes]

Compromise (Part Three)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Angst, Fluff, Separation Anxiety

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

Interlude #1 / Master List

To say you slept terribly was an understatement.

You were too nervous, too keyed up to sleep. Not only were you worried about Winnie, but the prospect of car shopping with Bucky was an additional stressor. Why had you even agreed to it in the first place? Yours was just fine. A beater, sure, but it still ran. Kind of.

Deep down, you couldn’t help but appreciate that he cared about Winnie’s safety. You just didn’t like the nagging. He’d been on your case for the last few months about your car, ever since you got into an accident on the way home from the grocery store. A fender bender, nothing serious. It wasn’t even bad enough to warrant repairs – just a few dents and scratches on your rear bumper. The other driver gave you a couple hundred bucks for damages, which you used on birthday presents for your little girl.

That said, you weren’t poor, just frugal.

Most of Bucky’s child support – a couple thousand dollars a month – went straight into savings for Winnie’s college fund. The rest was used on doctor’s appointments and medicine. Despite the fact that she also had the serum in her veins, she still got sick like a normal child. Between croup and colds and ear infections, you’d dealt with it all; even her asthma, unpredictable as it was. It flared up at the strangest times, not from overexertion or allergies like one might expect, but randomly and you hadn’t yet figured out the cause. Neither had her doctor, let alone Bruce for that matter.

Of course, the serum did affect her some. She grew slightly faster than her peers; although she was a little over three years old, now, physically she was more like four. Then again, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as your pregnancy only lasted eight months instead of nine. Technically she was a preemie but she certainly didn’t seem like one, having been born at a standard six pounds, five ounces.

Standard. Normal.

When she ran, it was at a normal speed too, and she definitely couldn’t lift anything heavy. She had a tendency to trip and fall flat on her face, so her reflexes weren’t exactly enhanced like Bucky’s, either, though her skinned knees did seem to heal faster than the norm.

To you, Winnie was a normal little girl through and through. She played with dolls and stuffed animals, drew with crayons and markers, and had temper tantrums on a regular basis. She liked to dress like a princess, watch Disney movies, be tucked in and read to. She even snuck into your bed at night when she had a nightmare.

She was normal. Mostly.

The fact that her Mommy and Daddy were separated made her a target in preschool, and you hated it. Her friends often babbled about their parents, plural, whereas Winnie usually only got to talk about you. You knew how much it bothered her. 

It bothered you, too.

Morning came before you knew it, and you were anything but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. By the time you left for the compound, it was a little after nine and you’d already downed about a gallon of coffee. Even though you’d been a barista for almost a decade, you never really used to drink coffee much until you had Winnie. Then, all of a sudden, you completely understood why it was so popular.

There were no hassles at the gate this time. Bucky’s name held enough sway that you didn’t have to repeat yourself after yesterday. You kind of liked it – always had, if you were being honest. Not that you’d ever admit it. Especially not to yourself.

Yawning, you made your way up the handful of steps and through the glass doors. You’d texted Bucky right before you left and although he wasn’t there to greet you this time, you vaguely remembered where to go. At least you could take the steps more slowly this time, now that you weren’t being watched.

The compound was incredibly quiet for a Sunday morning in comparison to the tower. There was never a dull moment there, but here, even with all the buildings, it wasn’t noisy at all. Instead it was tranquil – relaxing, almost. You could even hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside as you knocked on Bucky’s door.

On the other side, you picked up the deep rumble of his voice. It wasn’t quite loud enough to make out, but you could easily assume what he’d said when Winnie asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Mommy,” you answered cheerfully.

You heard her squeal, and then she relayed the information like Bucky had no doubt asked her to do. “Mommy’s here! Can I open it now?”

He spoke again – louder, this time, closer to the door. “Sure, princess.”

There were a couple seconds while she fumbled with the handle; she was barely tall enough to reach it at home, and this one was the same. Bucky might have tried to help, you weren’t sure, but soon enough the door was pulled open and a little brunette blur promptly attached itself to your leg.

“Mommy!” Winnie said happily, peering up at you with her big blue eyes. “You’re back!”

“Of course I am, sweetpea! Did you miss me?” you asked with a smile.

While normally you would have ruffled her hair, you noticed that she had two braids on either side of her head, secured by tiny pink elastics you didn’t recognize. They were very cute, but who’d done them up for her? Natasha? You were sure that none of the boys knew how to French braid. Why would they?

That particular thought made you wonder if there was something going on between her and Bucky. She was here yesterday, too. She’d tell you if there was, though, wouldn’t she?

“I missed you lots, Mommy,” Winnie told you, letting go of you to hold her arms up in the air. She wanted to be picked up.

You, of course, hoisted her up with ease and propped her against your hip, holding her little body just a smidge closer than yesterday – not tight enough to hurt, but you were ecstatic to have her in your arms again. “I missed you lots, too, baby.”

Then you finally looked over at Bucky and found him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. The way his tight black t-shirt strained over his biceps made you feel a little hot under the collar, but what really caught you off guard was how his lips were just slightly curled up at the corners, like he was trying not to smile.

You made a joke in an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that he was always too damn attractive for his own good. “So can I come in? Or do I have cooties?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, then, blinking like hadn’t really thought of it – and then he stepped aside to allow you entry. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“If anyone has cooties, it’s Daddy,” Winnie made a point of saying. “He’s a boy.”

You let out an undignified snort as you crossed the threshold. “Is that right?”

“Yeah! Boys are yuck.”

“Boys are yuck, huh,” Bucky remarked, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Then he muttered under his breath, “Sure hope it stays that way.”

That comment coupled with the suddenly wary look on his face made you laugh outright. Bucky hadn’t made you laugh in a long time; you were too busy arguing with him to do much else. “Isn’t it a little early to be worrying about that?”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “you’ve already got her college fund set up. Don’t talk to me about ‘too early’.”

You huffed, but it was in jest. “That’s different.”

“Yeah?” At that, he offered you a roguish grin that made your heart skip a beat. “How’s it different?”

Now, it wasn’t witty banter, per se, but something was different for sure. The dynamic had shifted between the two of you, somewhere between the time you told him goodnight and your mid-morning arrival. It was a small change, but you could feel it in the air: a distinct lack of tension.

Unfortunately, it also made an indignant flush come across your cheeks. He was teasing you. He hadn’t done that in a long time, either.

“It just is,” you responded unhelpfully, setting Winnie down on the sofa before you sat down next to her. You purposely kept your back facing him to conceal the fact that you were blushing like an idiot and you didn’t even know why.

No, that was a lie. You did know why.

This felt entirely too familiar.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to pick up on your change of tone and let it go in favour of asking, “Have you eaten? We only got up a few minutes ago.”

By ‘we’ you assumed he meant Winnie, because he never used to sleep well. Nightmares usually kept him awake, and while you knew he wasn’t a morning person, he got up at the crack of dawn anyway. Bucky told you once that he liked to watch the sun rise. The peace and quiet helped him think.

“Not yet,” you answered, fussing with the wrinkled collar of Winnie’s dress. Another distraction. You’d dropped off a few different outfits for her in an overnight bag last night, along with her inhaler, some toiletries, and of course Mr. Squiggles. Now she was dressed in her Sunday best, but in all actuality, she probably just wanted to wear a pretty dress.

“Daddy said he wanted to make Mommy’s favourite pancakes!” Winnie piped up, and you instinctively tensed at the admission.

That’s right. It was Sunday.

Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat, but made no attempt to correct her.

There was a brief pause – stunned silence – until you regained your bearings enough to ask, “Did he, now?”

“Uh huh!” Winnie told you, nodding excitedly. “Blueberry!”

Your brows rose as you turned to him. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Why do you think I used to make them?”

Your heart instantly warmed at his admission – and ached, because of the memories. He was on missions more often than not when the two of you were together, but without fail, whenever he was home on a Sunday, he made blueberry pancakes. His Ma’s recipe, he said.

They were the best pancakes you’d ever eaten.

“Well,” you began nervously, “it is Sunday.”

He met your eyes, then – gentle, warm. Just like how he used to look at you.

“Daddy,” Winnie whined. “I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Daddy,” you chimed in, feeling a little lighter than before. “I’m hungry, too.”

Bucky grumbled an easy, “Yeah, yeah,” as he got to work, but his tone didn’t match the amused expression on his face. You didn’t fail to notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

That was when Winnie started to tell you about the show she was watching on Netflix, the same cartoon you’d glimpsed yesterday. You were interested in what she had to say, of course you were, but not as much as you normally would have been because her father looked so fucking good right now.

He’d remembered. As innocent as that was, your body’s reaction to it absolutely wasn’t. Call it Pavlovian conditioning, but the first time he made those pancakes for you was the morning after you first slept together. That was the same night Winnie was conceived. 

When Bucky pulled out a frying pan from one of the cabinets and set it on the lit stove, you couldn’t help but notice how his t-shirt stretched over his muscles underneath, not to mention those sweatpants which did nothing to conceal his fantastic ass.

You’d already seen and sampled what he had to offer, but hell if you didn’t want to have another taste anyway. Not that you ever would.

He started to lay out all of the ingredients on the counter, including a punnet of fresh blueberries but you were more focused on the way he worked with such finesse, like making breakfast for the three of you was a normal, everyday thing for him to do.

It was, once.

Then, as Bucky mixed everything together in a large bowl, he finally glanced up only to catch you staring.

Shit.

You immediately tore your eyes away, heart pounding a frenzied tattoo within the confines of your chest and you made sure not to look back again. Instead, you feigned interest in the show Winnie was babbling on about, squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the sudden ache in between.

You needed to stop.

He wasn’t good for you. He wasn’t good for Winnie.

Right?

But your thoughts just kept drifting back to him anyway. You couldn’t help it. It was during times like these that your memories got the best of you, because you knew he was more than capable of being a good father if he wanted to be. You’d seen it not only while you were pregnant, but during the first couple of months after Winnie was born.

What’s worse was that Bucky was capable of so much more, too. He could be downright wonderful. A good boyfriend. A supportive partner. An attentive lover. He was all of those for you once upon a time.

It wasn’t until the pancakes were done and you finally met his eyes again from across the kitchen table that you knew you were in too deep. You’d never gotten over him, not really – and being here with him and your daughter, so sweet and domestic for the first time in years, was what made you finally realize that.

You still wanted to be with him. 

You wanted to be a family.

Part Four

[negasonicteenagemess]

sunflower soulmate peter parker imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Request:  Hi I’m not sure if you are still taking requests and this is my first request. Can you write a Peter Parker one where the reader and him are best friends and during the school day she grabs his hand and starts doodling on it. And idk he asks her out and they kiss or something. Please and Thank You

No FFH Spoilers 

I made it a soulmate thing, I hope that’s alright. Also it’s eight in the morning and I haven’t slept so editing is sub par 

masterlist

“In Greek mythology,” Y/N explained as she licked the ice cream off her spoon. “Humans had four arms, four legs and two faces. Zeus was afraid of the power that they had so, he split them in half.”

Her friends sat at the table in the ice cream shop around her, stunned by the information. “Woah,” Peter whispered, as he scooped more of the frozen treat onto his spoon.

“That’s dark,” MJ stated, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Y/N nodded in agreement, cleaning her mouth with a napkin, “yeah, so they’d spend the rest of their lives looking for each other. It’s sad.”

“Some people now think that your soulmate shares the same atoms as you but were kinda split during the big bang or something,” Ned furthered, playing with his spoon.

MJ scoffed, “the idea of soulmates as a whole seems just plain ole sad.” Peter decided to interject with his opinion, “I don’t think it’s sad. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world, knowing that someone is completely in love with you and devoted to only you. It’s amazing.”

Ned chuckled, “okay Peter, no need to get sappy on us.” His three friends laughed as his cheeks turned red.

“It’s cute though,” Y/N teased, taking another spoonful of ice cream. His cheeks only got redder at the comment.

He froze when he heard sirens down the street. “Um, I just forgot, May needed me to… go shopping. I gotta go. See ya tomorrow,” he grabbed his backpack and ran out before any of them could reply.

“He’s so weird,” MJ stated as she finished off her ice cream. “Yeah,” Y/N agreed absentmindedly.

On the walk home from the ice cream shop, Y/N couldn’t help but think about her soulmate. Would he be tall? Does he live in New York? Is he cute? As all of these thoughts crossed her mind, she watched as bruises formed on her knuckles.

This has been a common thing recently, getting her soulmates cuts and bruises. They didn’t last very long and didn’t hurt much but in Y/N’s mind, she thought he was either a cop or in some weird fight club. Hopefully a cop though.

All of her previous questions were obviously left unanswered as she opened the door to her apartment. She went to do her homework, finishing it so she didn’t have to stay up all hours of the night. She contemplated for a moment as she did the school work before taking her pen and etching something across her hand.

Whenever her soulmate gave the two of them bruises, she’d doodle around the markings with more peaceful things, and most of the time it was flowers. She drew stems all around her knuckles, with cute little squiggles of sunflowers all around.

She capped the pen, extending her hand to admire her work. Y/N felt like something was missing from it, so she uncapped her pen and wrote a little note.

stay safe :)

She didn’t expect a reply, but she soon felt a small pressure on her hand, right under where she wrote.

always try <3

She beamed at the response as butterflies filled her stomach. Definitely something a person in a fight club wouldn’t say.

Her phone vibrated from the place on the bed soon after her small encounter with her soulmate. It was a text from Peter.

hey wanna come over later to watch a movie or something?? They just added a bunch of stuff on netflix

Y/N smiled, quickly typing on the small screen.

yeah sure!! i’ll bring the popcorn. what time?

She sat patiently, waiting for her best friend to respond to the message.

twenty minutes okay with you? He texted back. Y/N replied with a thumb’s up emoji, already putting all of her school stuff away. She switched into her pj’s, as it was tradition for the two of them to wear night clothes to their movie marathons.

She stood in the mirror, messing with her hair and lost in her thoughts. She always thought Peter was cute, but she knew somewhere in her heart that it was wrong to think of someone like that who wasn’t her soulmate.

Y/N sighed, washing off the ink she had previously written so she wouldn’t have to explain it all to Peter. She was secretive about her soulmate, enjoying the fact that it was something only the two of them shared.

As if her soulmate had the same idea, the ink that he had written was slowly disappearing. She dried her hands and decided it was time to go to her friend’s house.

She walked through her apartment and went to the kitchen in search of the microwavable popcorn. Grabbing a couple bags, she left her home and went to the door across from hers, knocking a few times.

The cheerful face of Peter Parker appeared. He was clad in grey sweatpants and a blue Midtown shirt. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile, opening the door for her to step through. “Hi,” she replied back, waving the bags of popcorn in her hand as she walked into the Parker residence. “I would’ve made them at my place, but I was just so excited to see you,” she commented sarcastically.

Peter chuckled, grabbing the bags from her hand, “well the excitement is reciprocated as it is an absolute joy to see you again.”

Y/N laughed at his fake posh voice, plopping down on the couch as he made the popcorn. “Is May here?” She asked as she scrolled through her phone mindlessly.

“Nah, she had to work,” he replied, popping noises coming from his microwave. “Do you want something to drink?” He shouted from the fridge.

“Water please,” she replied, dragging out the last word. Peter soon appeared next to her with arms full of candy and two hands filled with drinks. A glass of water and a can of coke.

“Ya know they used to put cocaine in that shit,” she stated, sipping the clear liquid. Peter, already in the kitchen, scoffed, “no they didn’t.”

“They did. Coca is the plant that makes cocaine. Look it up,” she teased as he stayed silent for a minute.

“Oh shit,” he muttered as google answered his question. “Wasn’t that like, illegal or something?”

“I don’t know man. The 1900s were a weird time,” she stated as he came back with a big bowl of popcorn.

He turned the tv on, going straight to Netflix. “Scott Pilgrim?” He asked, shoveling popcorn in his mouth. Y/N turned to look at him at the strangeness, and he mirrored her actions. “Scott Pilgrim?” He questioned again; his mouth full and a playful tone gracing his voice. She laughed and nodded her head as he coughed from laughing, and choking, as well.

“You’re an idiot,” she giggled, her throat feeling itchy for some reason, but she ignored it.

He drank his soda, making sure to clear his throat, “shut up.” He was blushing. Y/N shook her head as he started the movie, acting as if nothing just happened.

“Can you imagine that?” Peter asked halfway through the film, tossing a piece of popcorn in his mouth. Y/N quirked a brow as she took a handful of candy, “what?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “living in a universe where you don’t have a soulmate.” Y/N let out a breath, “sounds rough. Finding love on your own and all.” He nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coke.

As the second movie they watched progressed, Y/N completely forgot the title of it as her eyes got more and more droopy. By the time the movie ended, the popcorn was long gone with all of the candy and she was asleep against Peter’s shoulder.

He looked at her longingly before letting out a sigh and wrapping his arm around her. “This universe is a nightmare,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. He heard a jingle of keys before the door to the apartment opened revealing May.

“Hey Peter,” she greeted loudly, placing her purse on a nearby table. May looked at her nephew to see him holding a finger to his lips. “Oh, is she asleep?” She asked quietly, walking towards the boy and his friend.

He nodded his head before diverting his attention back to the girl next to him, as she moved a bit in her sleep. May looked between Peter and Y/N, understanding the look in his eyes was eerily similar to the look her late husband used to give her.

“You like her, don’t you?” She questioned with a smirk, leaning on the back of the couch. His eyes widened as he immediately went to deny her claims. But when he saw the look on her face, he knew he couldn’t lie.

“I-I,” he sighed as he tried to piece his thoughts together, “I can’t. And I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help it, May. She’s always there for me.”

His eyes were glossy as he let out a breath, glad to finally express how he feels. “I don’t know what it is about her. She’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

May smiled, remembering the feeling, “even better than Spider-Man?” Peter let out a soft chuckle, careful not to wake the girl up.

“I would give up being Spider-Man any day just for her,” he stated quietly, brushing the hair off of her face.  

“But I can’t do this to my soulmate. It’s wrong. And I don’t know what to do,” his voice wobbled as he wiped his free hand over his face.

May put a supportive hand on his shoulder, “you just gotta wait Pete. You’ll meet your soulmate one day and the stars will align. You’ll love her and realize that is the greatest feeling in the world.”

She had a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke, remembering when she met Ben. Peter nodded his head in agreement, trying to convince himself more than anything.

“Thanks, May,” he whispered with a tight smile, looking at his Aunt as he spoke. “It’s what I’m here for,” she joked, patting his shoulder.

“Well,” she started, letting out a sigh, “I’m heading to bed. Work killed me and it’s only 10.” Peter nodded, acknowledging her statement.

“And make sure she gets home,” she said sternly, but not harshly. “Will do, May,” he replied, “goodnight.”

“Night, Pete,” she stated as she finally went to her bedroom.

He ran a hand through his hair once again, struggling with his inner thoughts. “One day,” he muttered to himself, “one freaking day.”

Y/N moved again, rubbing her eyes as she awoke from her slumber. “Shit, I slept through the movie, didn’t I?” She asked, getting out of Peter’s arms and leaning forward on the couch.

He chuckled, trying to forget everything he just spoke about, “yeah. You really missed out. Keanu Reeves looked great, as always.”

She shook her head, “damn.” Her eyes met his as she snickered at the encounter. Pulling out her phone, she noticed the time. “Shit, I gotta go,” she stated as she locked her phone but held it in her hand.

He nodded his head, “right.” He stood up, her following in his footsteps. “I can stay for a little bit to help you clean up,” she directed to the mess they made, empty rappers and popcorn kernels everywhere.

“Nah, you got to get your beauty sleep,” he stated sarcastically but continued to direct her to the front door. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” he smiled as he opened the door.

“Walk together to school tomorrow?” She asked as she made it to her front door, opening it while looking eyes with Peter, who stood at his doorway. “Always,” he smiled, leaning against the white frame.

Y/N nodded, leaning in her own doorway, “bye Peter.” She smiled, holding tightly on the handle.

“Adios,” he replied with a smile, finally shutting the door. Y/N did the same, brushing her teeth then going straight to bed.

She drifted off into a deep slumber as the moonlight illuminated her room and the sound of cars was still noticeable every now and then.

The next day, she woke up bright and early to get ready for school. She left her home and met up with Peter in the hallway and a couple train stops later, they made it to Midtown.

“And Ned broke the whole thing,” Peter explained, making Y/N laugh as he held the school door open for her. “Of course he did,” she giggled as the bell rang.

“Right on time,” he stated, walking with Y/N to their first class, Chemistry. “I heard that we have a long ass assignment or something today,” she remarked, pulling at the straps of her backpack.

Peter groaned, “can Mrs. Smith ever give us a break?” Y/N shook her head, “she’s a horrid woman, I tell you.”

As teenagers rushed to get to their classes in the hall, the two friends made it to Chemistry fairly quickly. The late bell rang, the two friends seated right next to each other as always as Mrs. Smith began to explain what the students would be doing that day.

She finished the instructions and students began to open their textbooks. Y/N and Peter did the same, doing the assignment for the bulk of the class period. Being the studious teenagers they were, the pair was able to be one of the first groups to finish.

Y/N took Peter’s hand, laying it on the table before her. “Can I draw on your hand?” She asked sweetly, bored out of her mind and taking her pen as she was ready to start her masterpiece. “Yeah sure,” Peter replied, tapping away on his phone.

“You know,” he started, “you can be such a kid sometimes.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, starting to draw around his knuckles. Flowers upon flowers seemed to bloom on his hand.

One of her hands held down Peter’s as the other created the work of art. His eyes drifted from his phone to his hand, watching the beauty appearing across his skin. He had a small smile as he watched her etch the flowers upon his knuckles.

Peter’s eyes shifted to the hand that held his down. He froze, jaw slacked, and eyebrows raised. He looked between his hand and hers. Small sunflowers began to appear on her hand, the exact same that were on his own.

“Holy shit,” he spoke suddenly, shocking Y/N and causing her to leave a sharp line down his hand with her pen. ”Awe man,” she slumped her shoulders as she examined the mistake, “I really liked it.”

Her voice was filled with slight sadness at the mark, but she just shrugged, “we can fix it though. It’ll be fine.” She looked up at Peter, giving him a soft smile, but frowned when she saw his face still full of surprise.

“Pete I can just get rid of it-“ she wanted to apologize but he cut her off. “No, Y/N listen,” he laughed, but not with humor, but because this was actually happening to him.

He grabbed the hand that held his down and looked deeply into her eyes. “I-I can’t believe it,” he whispered, all of this still not settling in his brain. Y/N furrowed her brows, giving him a strange look, “what?”

Squeezing her hand, he chuckled nodding towards their joined hands, “look.” Y/N’s eyes fell, examining the marks. “Oh my god, she whispered as she traced the marks on her hand with the other one.

She looked between the marks on her hand versus Peter’s, where she actually created the doodles. They were the exact same, the flowers and that stupid line where she messed up. It was all the same. She covered her mouth with the empty hand, laughing lightly.

“It’s you,” she gushed. He nodded his head, “yeah. The likelihood, huh?”

Y/N was speechless, making it so that both of her hands covered his. She bit her lip, “I had a crush on you, you know? I thought you were the cutest boy in our hall.”

At that Peter chuckled, “I’m the only other person in our entire complex who’s your age.”

Y/N hit him on the shoulder lightly, “that’s not the point.” He looked at her, letting out a sigh, “I had, or well have a crush on you too.”

He gave her a tight smile, “why does this feel so awkward?” Y/N laughed at the comment, brushing a hand through her hair as she leaned on the other.

“It’s only awkward when you say it’s awkward Pete,” she stated. He just shrugged his shoulders, taking his hands away and rubbing them together from the coldness of the classroom.

“So,” he dragged out, “d-do you want to go on a date with me sometime?” He was so nervous because of the fact that he wasn’t just asking any girl out on a date. He was asking his best friend, his soulmate.

Y/N sighed dramatically, “I don’t know, do I have to?” Her sarcastic remark made Peter smile widely.

“I’d love to,” she replied for real this time, picking up her pen. “Now,” she continued, “time to finish my art.” He smiled, watching her finish her drawing as she proceeded to doodle away, not wanting to take his eyes off her anytime soon.

Class soon ended, so the newly found soulmates had to separate. It wasn’t as hard as it seemed, but in the next period, they couldn’t stop thinking about each other.

Peter would write things on his arm for her to read, away from the flowers as he wanted to keep those for as long as he could.

Woods is falling asleep on his desk read one of the little notes, plus a drawing of a horribly drawn teacher asleep.

Y/N sat in her desk, thinking about her soulmate. Like, why did Peter get bruises and cuts all the time? And why so late at night? He wasn’t a cop, like she originally thought. Was Peter in a fight club?

No, sweet little Peter Parker could NOT be in a fight club. That’s impossible.

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly, Peter and Y/N seeing each other as often as possible. By the time the last bell rang, Y/N couldn’t wait to walk home with Peter. And that’s exactly what they did. This time was different though, because they weren’t deemed as best friends anymore, but as soulmates. So, they talked about their day at school, holding hands and as their shoes scratched the pavement.

After taking the subway, they arrived at their building. They stood in the apartment building’s hall, Y/N biting her lip as she debated her next moves.

“Screw it,” she whispered, grabbing Peter’s face with her hands. He looked like he was about to speak but stayed silent at the feeling of her lips on his own.

His eyes closed as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer to him and never wanting to let go. But there was one thought that crossed his mind. Finally, after years and years of being in love with his best friend, he was able to kiss her as his soulmate.  

It felt like Zeus was throwing lightning bolts around his body as the feeling of her feathery light lips against his rough ones made him ecstatic. She pulled away slowly, opening her eyes as she moved her hands around his neck. “S-Sorry,” she stumbled, her cheeks red.

Peter shook his head and whispered, “don’t be.” She looked deep into his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her again. Her lips tasted like the lip balm she always uses, the taste suddenly becoming one of his favorites.

He was consumed in the warmth that was Y/N L/N, and he couldn’t get enough. But all good things must come to an end, and she pulled her lips from his.

“Walk me to school tomorrow?” She asked breathlessly with a smirk. He laughed lightly, leaning his head onto her shoulder as he did so. “Always,” he looked up at her with a smile.

He gave her a peck on the lips before she began pulling away. “See you then,” she gave a little wave as he nodded his head. She shut the door to her home, biting her lip as she walked to her room.

Peter, on the other hand ran though his apartment door, slamming the door shut in search of his Aunt.

“May,” he shouted as he ran around, looking for the Italian woman. She stood in the kitchen and looked at him with an amused look of confusion. “Woah, easy there. What’s up?” She asked, taking note of the starstruck look on his face.

“I-I found my soulmate,” he beamed as he dropped his backpack onto the tile floor. Her eyes widened as she stopped washing the dishes.

She ran and hugged him, “oh my god, that’s amazing! What’s her name? When can I meet her?” She pressed with questions as she pulled away to look at her nephew. He chuckled lightly, moving his hands to hold her back.

“You won’t believe it,” he grinned, shaking his head as he still couldn’t believe it himself. May scrunched her brows, eyes examining his features, “what do you mean?”

“It’s Y/N,” the gaze in his eyes as he spoke was love struck, May squealing and pulling him into a tight hug yet again.

[squigglywindy]

Goodnight everyone!

Remember that you are always enough for the right people, and your worth is not defined by what you can do for everyone else. You are you and you are Good Enough <3

Talk to ya maniacs tomorrow; hope you all have a happy timezone <333

[devnny]

CHAPTER TWELVE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!!! it’s 6k fucking words too, jeezus lord. at least its cute, and sad, and cute.

the events of my old ass drabble TOUCH. is mentioned briefly in this chapter too, should you have not read that and would care to :]c ANYWAY, ENJOY

[Dear Diary,

I had another dream about killing Devi.

They’ve become too vivid… I’m growing more and more worried that my mind will blur fantasy with reality, and I’ll attack her thinking it’s a dream. I don’t know why I would do that… I don’t want to attack her. I don’t want to hurt her, ever.

So, as a precaution, I’ve decided that I won’t be sleeping anymore. Staying awake is all that I can do combat these shitty nightmares.]

--

Johnny scratched the final letter of his latest diary entry firmly into the paper’s face, then closed the cover quietly. He tucked the book under his chair, careful to not alert Devi, who was painting a few feet away, that he was making any unusual movements.

He felt badly to keep these dreams a secret from her, since he was confident that Meat was interfering with his sleep somehow, but he buried those prickly feelings of guilt to the best of his ability. The only other reason for these reoccurring nightmares would be that he, in fact, was thinking them up all on his own, which was even worse as far as Johnny was concerned. Either way, he was terrified that if he mentioned it to Devi that she would again grow suspicious of him.

After regaining so much of her trust, it would kill him inside to see her hesitate to accept his company, or linger on her words or her decisions in what she allowed him to do with her, all because he wasn’t in control of his subconscience. Very few people were able to control their unconscious mind, but Johnny still felt immensely paranoid that Devi wouldn’t be understanding, regardless of if it would be because of actual resentment, or simply out of fear, even though she would still want to trust him. That might sting even worse, actually.

They had built such a comforting routine in her home; working away on creative endeavors together at all hours, and enjoying each other’s company over shared meals and television in their downtime. It was so soothing, bidding her ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ each day. Devi’s sleep schedule had returned to its atrociously inconsistent cycle since he moved in with her, so sometimes he would be saying ‘goodnight’ at 5PM, and other times saying ‘good morning’ at 5PM, but it was gratifying all the same. He didn’t know, after he was ‘better’ and was supposed to return to his own house, how he would go through each day without being able to offer her such daily pleasantries. Maybe he would be able to do so over the phone, he thought, but it wouldn’t be the same.

His eyes lifted from the scantily-worked-on page that was fastened to his drafting table and settled on Devi’s kneeling figure a short distance away. Johnny smiled to see the small smirk on her face while she blotted color across her canvas. She had been toiling away on this commissioned work for almost a week now, and she always seemed to enter some kind of frenzied state whenever she was nearing a piece’s completion. It was a large project, she had told him, and would offer her a very hefty paycheck once it was finished. Maybe it was the thought of money that pushed her into such an energetic fit of creation – Johnny could only speculate. She grinned and rubbed a bit of paint from her cheek as she stepped back to review her efforts.

His lips pursed into a longer smile; how could he even consider sullying her mood by bringing up useless things like night terrors? He couldn’t. He would handle this himself, and leave Devi to her work.

--

DAYS LATER:

Devi beamed, squiggling her brush down her canvas to the rhythm of the song she currently had blasting from the speakers of her art room. Nothing was more satisfying than going to the bank and depositing a nice, big, fucking check, and she could only express her delight by jumping right into a personal project as soon as she and Johnny had returned home. It felt so good to have enough money, for the time being, to indulge in painting what she wanted to for more than an hour.

“Hey!” Johnny’s voice piped up over the music, and Devi turned to see him pull his headphones off of one of his ears. His headphones were his only defense against her deafening taste in music, so it must be important. Devi searched the floor for the dinky little remote that controlled the speakers, and lowered the volume to a reasonable level.

“Yeah?” She grinned at him, and he met her smile with one of his own.

“Can you hold your arm out like ‘this’ for me?” Johnny stuck his arm out and twisted it downwards in a fist to give her an example. Devi scoffed, used to him asking her to pose for reference by now, and tried to mimic what he had requested.

“Like that?”

“Ummm, no, down a little more. Ehhh—” He wiggled his fist in her direction. “—put your shoulder up more, maybe? Give me… ‘intimidating’.”

Devi laughed.

“Shut the Hell up.” She huffed a few chuckles and brought her shoulder up as instructed.

“YES. HOLD THAT.” Johnny exclaimed and hurriedly resumed his sketching. Devi’s smile remained while she watched him work.

She had to admit she was proud of how far he had come since this whole thing started – he hardly ever devolved into a crying mess when his drawings weren’t progressing to his liking anymore. The last time Devi remembered him throwing a fit was shortly after the ‘leash and collar’ situation began, and she figured that that was more out of pent up frustration for that small bit of humiliation, and not so much because he was a creative loose-cannon.

The way his tongue poked out while he drew was a little more endearing suddenly, but Devi dismissed the thought, chalking it up to the current carefree feeling in the air. The evening was set to be lighthearted the moment she had gotten paid; the plan was to have whatever the fuck she wanted for dinner, and then binge-watch the entire movie series of The Beast What Licked Me, which was the main trilogy and all of its subsequent, horrible spinoff movies by less-than-admirable production studios. Devi smiled at the idea of having fun for once.

“You know, the lofty smile doesn’t really give me that ‘intimidating’ vibe.” Johnny spoke with a teasing laugh, earning a dismissive, blithe scoff from his model.

“Shut your mouth—aren’t you hungry yet?” Devi snorted, wriggling her shoulder to rib at him further. He stuck the end of his pencil into his lip curiously.

“Are you?”

“Sure, and I think my hand’s had enough painting for one day.” She straightened her posture with a widening grin. “You done?”

“Well, I am for now, if that’s alright with my, er, mentor…” Johnny replied with the question in his stare, and Devi snickered again.

“You are excused for the evening. Now, let’s order Chinese, for delivery. I don’t feel like leaving the house again today.” Devi mused while she walked out of the room. Johnny smiled giddily at the comment – one trip outside was enough for one day, he’d agree wholeheartedly!

--

FIFTEEN-MINUTES-OR-LESS LATER:

Johnny threw the wad of cash that Devi had so-entrusted him with directly into the delivery boy’s face, knocking him over with the force of the impact as he snatched the take-out bag from him. He slammed the door shut callously, and hummed in approval at the now familiar smell of Devi’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

He strode to the kitchen with it, and began laying out the bag’s drippy contents onto the counter. He jumped when he felt something jab into his side, but hardly had to turn his head before he recognized Devi’s head peeking into his peripheral. She gave him a cheeky grin, and he smiled back shyly.

“You’re already finished showering?”

“Yeah, heh, just needed to rinse off that outside-world smell.” She crossed her arms over one of his shoulders as she leaned to see what he was doing. “…Why’d you bother bringing the food in here?”

Johnny gesticulated his hands loosely around the counterspace as he attempted to explain, but it was difficult with Devi touching him.

“WELL, it’s—” Another swat of his hands. “…greasy!”

Devi snortled and slid off of his shoulder, giving his back an additional plap with her palm before moving to inspect tonight’s dinner. She popped open one of the containers and couldn’t help but jam a pair of chopsticks into it right away, scooping a pile of noodles into her mouth happily.

She exhaled contently through her nose while she chewed, then turned a curious eye to Johnny, who was picking at the fabric of his shirt where she had just been pressed against him. It was only for a second, but it was enough to take notice of before he tilted to look through the boxes and find which one was his entrée. Devi swallowed, and watched his thin fingers play with the lids while she thought.

When had she gotten so comfortable with touching him? It had been a long time since physical contact with anyone had been so nonchalant for her. If she could guess, it was probably due to the whole ‘close proximity of the leash’ thing, or maybe the whole ‘living together’ thing, but either way it was bizarre that she hadn’t realized how casual things had become until she noticed Johnny’s slight change in demeanor in response to it.

One wouldn’t have to ask Johnny ‘when’ the touching started; he could tell you with one-hundred percent certainty that it was the night that they went to pick up a few groceries from a nearby 24/7. Devi had approached him, and set a hand on his arm for an undiscernible amount of seconds while she spoke to him – undiscernible because his brain had just about exploded from the direct contact. He had returned the casual touching with a modest hand on her shoulder, and she hadn’t killed him for it. Johnny would probably remember that night for the rest of his existence.

But Devi was left to ponder at what point she had regrown enough trust for him to poke and prod at him without wanting to carve her own skin off afterward. He was a lot less horrible now, and she enjoyed his company again, so she supposed that said something, at least. She shrugged it off and stuffed a piece of chicken in her mouth.

“You ready to get this hideous marathon underway?” Devi asked while she chewed. Johnny carefully lifted the top off of the horrendously spicy dish he’d ordered.

“Yes!” He beamed at her eagerly, brandishing a spork as though it was a beacon for his well-equipped-ness for the evening.

--

FIVE MOVIES IN:

“Oouughh…” Devi vocalized her agony with her fingers pressed to her sore eyes.

“Yeah, that FX make-up is garbage. Worse than the one in Spawn of The Beast What Licked Me.” Johnny replied lazily from his side of the couch, half-melted into the cushion. Though his corneas burned just as badly, the pain didn’t register with him the same way.

“No,” Devi griped. “my eyes are killing me…”

A yawn punctuated her complaint, and Johnny lifted his head attentively. She was tired. He’d come to learn the signs of her exhaustion quite well, and despite his current feelings about sleep, rest appeared to do Devi some good.

“Are you going to go to bed?” He asked and reset his head onto the back cushion of the couch comfortably. Devi peeked at him from the armrest on the opposite side, where she had devolved into a lumpy ball as the night wore on. Her ear pressed into the cushy fabric, and she slanted her mouth in discontent.

She didn’t particularly want to go to sleep. There was only one more movie to go, and it felt weak as Hell to give up now when she was so close to the end of a movie binge. Devi lulled her head in the direction of the TV, and winced away in regret when the flashing light burned her eyes.

“Ugh.” She grunted in defeat. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We can finish these last two tomorrow.” Johnny offered to ease her frustration, and Devi smirked through her exhaustion.

“Yeah, okay.” She agreed and rolled into a seated position. She struggled to stand with her tired legs, but managed to force herself up.

One of her hands came down to point at Johnny as she passed him, her finger hovering just out of reach of his nose.

“—And don’t you dare watch ahead.” Devi smiled despite her threatening tone. “You turn that shit off, you don’t get to watch without me.”

Johnny grinned uneasily, half of him delighted at how she joked with him.

“Yes, of course.” He assured her, and Devi nodded appreciatively before hobbling off to bed. Johnny watched her door click shut, then searched for the remote and turned the TV off.

His body slumped against the couch, the satisfied feeling in his torso weighing him down into its pillows. He debated what he could do for the rest of the night with his lazy, fried brain. The dull feeling in his arms made drawing seem impossible, and he didn’t want to turn on the TV again until he was sure Devi was soundly asleep. So he laid on the couch and thought to pass the time.

It didn’t take long for his thoughts to turn to Devi, and he smiled comfortably as he reviewed the day’s events. Johnny laced his fingers over his chest and contemplated if their relationship would progress further than this, or if it had reached it’s peak at her not hating him and offering him passing physical contact. He was perfectly happy with how things were now, but he would have said the same thing about her begrudgingly tolerating his company two months ago. Now he couldn’t imagine going back to that time and being satisfied without her smile, or laughter, or rib jabbing.

A sigh slipped past his lips as he smooshed further into the couch at the memory of her forearms crossed over his shoulders early this evening. It was so nice. Everything was so nice now; he felt like he could exist like this forever. The impermanence of his situation was lost from his mind for the time being, and he nestled his brow into the cushion while he let his tender thoughts carry his brain away.

Without realizing, his eyes slowly began to settle closed, and he drifted into an impromptu nap.

--

Johnny reaffixed his grip on the handle of his knife, the tendons there further visible under the gaunt skin of his hand. He would usually wear gloves for something like this – it was so messy – but a kill such as this one, that was so personal and passionate in nature, had no room for measures of tidiness.

She deserved this so much; she was so mean. Cruel. She never treated him like this before, when they had their nice, engaging conversations at the bookstore. Everything was so pleasant then. He could still imagine her, with her short black hair and uniform apron, and her dark, painted lips that made his heart go berserk when they tilted up into a smile for him. Him, bringing a smile to someone else’s face. How abnormal.

His own mouth twitched upwards more, making his grin look more unhinged than it already did. The little spatters of blood on his cheeks and nose smeared under the creases it brought.

Devi lay below him – on the floor, if he wasn’t mistaken – looking up at him in fear. He’d only stabbed her a few times so far, but Johnny could tell by the terror in her eyes that she knew those wouldn’t be the only ones. He crouched over her form, as he had over so many others, and held her shoulder with his left hand while the right started its habitual swinging.

The blade plunged into her chest again, marring her shirt with another bloody hole. Then another, and another. He could feel the flexible bones of her ribcage bend under the base of his palm, compressed by the weight of his blows.

It felt so GOOD. She earned all of these! All of her stabbing, painful comments – she should have expected this outcome. This new, purple-haired, pigtailed Devi was not the one he cared so much for; she was a demon! A bastardized version of his Devi; one that smirked coolly at him as though she owned him; one that barraged him with pointless tests and berated him with cutting words when he failed.

“You deserve this!” Johnny breathed, digging the knife into her torso again. Devi did little to stop him, as she had so far, and only looked at him painfully. YES! She deserved this pain!

“You deserve this – you deserve this—!” He ranted, continuing to repeat the phrase over and over as he stabbed her. He watched her eyes – those pretty, green eyes – filled with hurt.

But it wasn’t the hurt that he had originally thought.

It wasn’t like the looks his other victims gave him, eyes filled with tears from the physical agony they were in. It wasn’t even the same as the horror he’d seen on her face before, when he had lunged at her in his home. Johnny’s smile slowly began to drop, seeing the unusual emotion in Devi’s eyes. She looked at him with so much betrayal – almost longingly, as if to ask “Why?”, or to say, “How could you?”.

Why wasn’t she fighting him? She should be able to get away. She’s always gotten away from him – always refused to be a victim to him. Why was she just LAYING there, letting him kill her?

That’s what he was doing. He was KILLING HER.

Devi seemed to acknowledge her impending death at the same time he had, and her expression grew wearier. Johnny felt anxiety rapidly mounting inside him, and only removed his fixation away from her face when he felt her hand gingerly grip at his fist. He looked down and watched her fingers, matted with blood, trying as best as they could to grasp onto him. He also realized that he was still holding the knife firmly in her sternum.

With a jolt of fear, he yanked the knife away, and Devi cried out for the first time that he could remember. It made him drop his weapon, and settle both hands onto her shoulders.

He yelped her name, as if that would do any good. What had he done? He had killed her – she was dying. He didn’t want to believe it, and the sound of her labored breathing brought him to tears. This shouldn’t be happening – Devi had helped him. She offered him so much of her; her time, her support, her home – and he had reduced her into a gored mass on her bedroom floor.

No, no, no. This wasn’t right. He wanted to scream and sob, but that would do nothing to fix this.

A sticky sensation on his cheek brought him out of his panic, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s hand, wet from her own blood. Despite the slippery, unpleasant feeling of the blood, Johnny was drawn to the delicate touch of her fingers, and tried to lean into them despite the weakness in her digits. He wanted her palm – he wanted it to cradle his cheek, and indulge in the forbade softness from her that he himself had ruined his chances of.

Johnny didn’t get what he wanted, of course. Devi’s hand slowly dropped away from his face, lingering until all the strength left her limbs, and her arm fell to her bloodied stomach. Johnny refused to take his eyes off of hers, and the anxiety he felt previously worked into a massive ball of dread as he saw the glint in Devi’s eyes begin to dull.

No, no, no, no—

--

Johnny almost gagged from the abrupt force of the gasp that brought him back to consciousness. His leg kicked out, knocking over some empty containers and cans that had been left on the coffee table, and he scampered away from the sound with startled fear. A hand came up to palm away the wet lines that streaked down his cheekbones, but cold tears were the least of his concerns with his lungs beating air out of him faster than he could bring it in. Johnny tried to gather himself and calm his breathing down, but his heart wouldn’t allow it, and continued pounding against the walls of its boney prison like a furious captive.

His eyes shook with anxiety as his pupils flashed from side to side, trying to use some amount of logic amongst his hysteria to convince himself everything was fine, and that his panic was just the result of another Godawful nightmare. Johnny noted the dark living room, the messy table, the quiet television set; nothing amiss or broken, nothing to indicate that anything in the apartment was any different from any other night, besides his quaking form bundled up on the sofa.

He turned his attention to Devi’s bedroom door, and his haggard breaths immediately stopped. Her door was ajar. He had never seen her door open when she was sleeping, ever.

A shaky inhale sucked down his throat, and he started shivering from his shoulders down his arms and to his stomach. There was a sudden, paralyzing feeling of nausea woven through his guts, and it was almost painful to make his knees lift him into a standing position, like forcing a rusted bolt to twist. He couldn’t get his back to straighten fully as he stood, so he crept with a nervous hunch in his shoulders toward Devi’s bedroom.

Johnny swallowed past the dry flesh of his mouth as he reached the threshold of the doorway. His breath trembled again; he was terrified that upon pushing open the door fully, he would find Devi’s lifeless body on the floor, right where he had ‘dreamed’ it was. He couldn’t bear the thought that his worst fear had come to fruition – that his crappy, broken mind failed to recognize reality from fantasy, and either it, or Meat, had tricked him into murdering Devi with a rage that he didn’t even have for her.

Despite his paralyzing fear, his hand settled onto the front of the door, and he creaked it open slowly. Johnny shakingly took a step inside, and even with the only light in the room being the dim reflection of a billboard outside, he could tell that there was nothing on the floor besides the usual scattered belongings. Certainly no bodies, and definitely not the one that belonged to Devi.

He brought his attention up to her bed, and his lips wibbled fearfully at the unidentifiable shape under the purple covers. He could see what would be assumed to be Devi’s head poking out of the lump, resting on a pillow, but that was all. Johnny gulped quietly again. His paranoia couldn’t let him leave it at that – he had to make sure that she was well, instead of just assuming she was sleeping peacefully.

He hurried to the side of the bed, and stared down with wide, fearful eyes at her neutral face that was tucked so snugly behind her curled hand. She wasn’t making any sounds, and he couldn’t tell with his own body shaking the way it was, if she was breathing or not. He continued staring, trying with all his might to determine if her body was rising and falling with lifegiving breath, and only grew more and more panicked the longer he couldn’t stop trembling and focus enough to confirm it.

With a renewed burst of anxiety, Johnny shot forward, jabbing a knee into the fluff of her comforter. He grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her awake with terrified urgency, unable to think of any other way to quell his fears fast enough. Devi’s eyes opened right away, rattling around in her aching head with confused alarm until she heard Johnny’s wailing.

“DEVI! DEVI, DEVI—!” His face pinched miserably as he saw her irises flicker into view and focus squarely on him. His fingers tightened onto her shoulders further as his began to shake again, and he drooped like a dejected, wilted flower against her collar. He continued calling her name, but his voice garbled as he deteriorated into sobs.

It took Devi a moment to register what the Hell was going on, but her shocked expression melted into a tired, exasperated one as she realized Johnny was just having a fit about something, again.

“Nny—Nny!” She tried to urge him out of his crying with a few shoves on the arm, but Johnny only continued blubbering. He was trying desperately to explain himself, Devi could gather that much, but he was completely incoherent. She sighed in exhaustion, desperate to calm him and go the fuck back to bed.

“Johnny,” She set a hand on his head, lazily leading it to lay flat on her mattress. “relax, please. Relax.”

Johnny, whose figure had been half-collapsed on her bed already, buckled from his distress, and he laid loosely at her side like a ragdoll.

“—you were dead, you were dead—!” He managed to blather out, and Devi sighed again. She assumed that this was the result of another nightmare he had, and papped his hair with as much sympathy as she was willing to muster in her fatigued state.

“I’m not dead, Nny. I’m fine… see…?” She mumbled with her eyes closed. Johnny stifled his crying as he tried to accept what she was telling him, but even with the affirmation that she was alive and well, he couldn’t stop his body’s pitiful reaction to fear. He hadn’t been so terrified in a long while – he couldn’t even remember what he would do to ease the feeling before.

A sudden sensation against his hairline startled him out of his grim thoughts, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s thumb idly brushing against his skin and into his hair. He stared at the sheets in surprise, unable to do much else besides focus on the strange scratching at his skull. Slowly, his eyelids lowered, but his somber expression remained. Johnny brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, hoping the pressure would help him relax.

Devi’s fingers stilled after a minute, and he felt her wrist settle loosely on his temple, then eventually slip lower until her forearm rested across the side of his neck. He sniffed, and bent his head down more, but instead of his forehead settling onto his kneecaps, it was obstructed by something warm and flat.

Johnny tilted his head up at an angle, and was surprised to see that what he’d bumped into was Devi’s collar – or rather, the area right below her collar. Her sternum; the bone that he had so viciously impaled with a knife several times in his newest dream. Guilt demanded that he pull his head away from where it rested, but as he turned his head, his ear pressed against her and he felt the light thumping of her heart tickle at his skin. Johnny froze, and his stillness offered him the full, uninterrupted rhythm of Devi’s heartbeat.

Even with his own heart pumping erratically, the sound of Devi’s heart was so audible and loud to the ear that was currently resting against her chest. It was just like any heartbeat, he supposed, but it was so calm and steady, much in contrast to his own which was still wild from coming down off of terror-induced adrenaline. The stable rhythm slowly began to calm him, and he took deep solace in the fact that as long as he could hear that drumming in his ear, it meant that she was alive. He curled further into himself, making sure that his temple was still pressed firmly against her collar.

Johnny chastised himself for a moment, trying to argue through his emotional exhaustion that this was, to some extent, inappropriate, and that now that he knew Devi was safe, he should leave her to rest. But he couldn’t resist the lure of Devi’s soft skin on his cheek, or her arm that was draped over his head, that made him feel oh-so cozy and secure. His eyes settled shut, and with a few lingering post-sobbing sniffs, slipped back into sleep.

--

THE FOLLOWING MORNING:

Devi mumbled in the back of her throat as she roused from slumber. There was still a dull ache in her brain, and she wasn’t currently at all fond of the idea of opening her eyes or waking up. Her lip twitched at a weird texture flittering against it, and she snorted to encourage whatever it was to fuck off. Her breathing started to slow again, but after a moment, the tickling feeling moved up to her nose, making it curl and huff in annoyance.

She brushed the unknown irritant away with her hand, and opened her eyes bitterly as she accepted that going back to sleep wasn’t going to happen now. She stretched her back out with a groaning sigh, and brought the same hand up to rub her face clear of any grogginess. As she did, the tuft of annoying, plumy things that had woken her up settled back against her mouth. Devi glared out at nothing in aggravation, then flicked her eyes down to finally see what it was.

Her eyes widened in confusion to be greeted with a pile of twisted, black hair. The confusion was short-lived as she realized that the hair was attached to Johnny, who was curled up in a ball beside her within the small space that her bent legs allowed, his head tucked comfortably under her chin. She blanched, and her cheeks quickly grew red from embarrassment and disoriented, shocked anger.

With a jolt of ego-preserving violence, she shoved him away and off of the bed, leaving only his skinny legs splayed in awkward angles atop the mattress. Devi sat up and glared at his boots.

“Johnny, what the Hell!” She huffed, her cheeks still tinged with color. Johnny rebounded from the initial shock of hitting the floor rather quickly, scampering up into a kneel at the side of her bed.

“OH, UH, I—” His own face blushed in shame, and he looked up to Devi’s glowering face, hoping that she wouldn’t be too angry with him. “I uh, I guess I… I fell asleep, after, um…”

His fingers drummed awkwardly against the sheets as he looked around the room noncommittally. Devi’s expression dropped as she remembered, foggily, Johnny coming into her room during the night in absolute hysterics. She grunted and scowled with some acceptance that he’d ended up passing out beside her.

“You moron.” Was all she could say. Johnny raised his eyes to look at her dejectedly, and she scoffed. She threw her legs off the other side of the bed, and walked around it, and Johnny, to reach her bathroom.

Johnny’s lip stuck out curiously. He wondered if that was going to be the extent of his punishment for unwanted physical contact, but dared not ask. Instead, he pulled himself up to sit on the corner of her bed and waited patiently for her to return. He hoped she didn’t come back with anything to hit him with, like the good, old-fashioned, ‘bar of soap in a sock’ flail.

Devi only washed her face, then reentered her room to frown at him. She crossed her arms at the sight of him sitting on her bed, and Johnny held his hands between his knees, timidly avoiding what he assumed was a bitter glare from her. Devi rolled her eyes as she sighed, and joined him on the edge of her mattress.

“Another nightmare, Nny?” She asked. Johnny’s head lowered from the annoyance in her voice.

“Yes…” He mumbled, twiddling his thumbs nervously. He heard Devi scoff again, and he felt further guilt that she was unaware of the seriousness behind his night terrors. After her unintentionally warm comforting the night previous, he felt compelled to tell her the truth.

“Devi, uh, I actually… there’s something I must confess.” Johnny looked to her, and Devi’s mouth flattened in surprise. She hoped silently that this wasn’t something romantic, given the already ridiculous start to her day. Johnny swung his legs absentmindedly.

“Well, you see…” A sigh. “I’ve been having these… “nightmares”, for months.”

“All of them have been about, well, killing you.” Johnny grimaced as he said it, and Devi’s expression shifted to a different kind of surprise. Johnny continued. “Each time I fall asleep, they get worse; more vivid, more violent. Last night’s was the worst one to date. It was so real, Devi, I—I swore that I’d killed you. I was so certain…”

His hands gripped at the fabric of his pants nervously.

“…I think Meat’s behind it.” He said finally, and Devi took new, startled interest in his admission. They were quiet a moment before Devi replied.

“You really think the dreams are his doing?”

“I do.” He affirmed. “He doesn’t speak to me very often now that I live here, but I’m sure it’s him. I… I don’t know why he’s doing it, but I’m sure that he’s influencing them to be so gory and… awful… and you-related.”

Devi pondered this new development with a healthy amount of bitter suspicion. As far as she knew, Reverend Meat wanted Johnny to live, and had yet to try and influence him to kill anyone. What he wanted Johnny to do was engage in normal human-y things, and lose himself to his emotions, to his feelings. His feelings for her, in this case specifically. She slid her attention back to him with her suspicions hidden, as to not inadvertently express it to Johnny, and Meat, by extension.

“Did you have a nightmare after you fell asleep in my bed?” She asked.

Johnny blinked, having not bothered to even think about that until she mentioned it.

“Oh… no, I didn’t.” He replied. Devi pursed her mouth, convinced she knew the reason for Meat’s meddling this time.

He was trying to drive Johnny directly into her arms, like a bovine herder whacking his cattle with an electric rod. It boiled her blood to think of that shitty little parasite being so crafty. It would be easy for Meat to convince Johnny, without words, that he was urging him to commit violent acts, like Johnny’s previous voices, when in actuality, he was still just pushing this ‘physical longing’ crap.

“I’m sorry Devi…” Johnny’s head hung pathetically. “I know I should have told you. I was just so afraid… Afraid that you wouldn’t… trust me, again.”

He lifted his head.

“So much has changed since we, uh, ‘reunited’, if you’d want to call it that.” He mumbled. “I was scared that everything would regress back to the way it used to be. Everything is so nice now, I didn’t want to disturb it if I didn’t have to.”

Devi frowned at him in disbelief. She was still unused to any kind of heartfelt comments from anyone, especially him. For a moment, she debated whether or not to inform Johnny of the conclusion she’d just come to.

It could be beneficial to let him know, even if that would let Meat know as well, but then Johnny would probably go out of his way to avoid any touching, and maybe even hide his emotions more, just as a precaution to keep any and all feelings for her in check and not vulnerable to the Reverend, as futile as that would be. Devi hated to admit that she… didn’t want that. She liked bothering him, and it was nice to have such a casual friendship with someone after all these years of crappy people and self-made solitude.

She let her shoulders sag in defeat to her own wretched feelings.

“Yeah, things are nice now.” She smiled at him. Johnny was surprised that she would agree with him, and grinned shyly back at her.

“You still should have told me though, idiot.” Devi added with a meaner smirk, and Johnny shrugged in reply with a laugh. Devi pushed his shoulder.

“I’ll forgive you if you make me breakfast.” She offered, and Johnny jumped at the opportunity.

“Okay!” His smile grew wider, and he began slinking off toward the kitchen, lingering as though he was urging her to follow him.

Devi snorted a laugh and got up to join him. She would just keep these nightmares under close observation for now, until she was sure that she was correct about Meat’s intentions.

--

NEXT.

[starry-satoru]

EXO’s Xiumin Scenario: How Would You Feel?

A/N: I’m so happy to be back into writing! Thank you to the lovely person who requested this. Xiumin is my Exo bias, which may show quite clearly in this writing. Hope you enjoy! Also, this is inspired a little bit by Ed Sheeran’s song “How Would You Feel”. 10/10 recommend 

Genre: A little angst and fluff

Warnings: Minor cursing

Word Count: 2.6 k

Requested?: Yes

   Your little fist was clutched tightly around a freshly picked batch of dandelions from the playground. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had up to that point in your life. Minseok stood in front of you, head cocked curiously to the side, his eyes watching you carefully as you approached him. You thrust your hand forward and looked at your sneakers.

   “Here, Minnie, these are for you,” you mumbled. His face lit up as he took the flowers and you mustered the courage to look him in the eye. 

   “Wow, thanks, (Y/N).” You blushed deeply and said the next words in a heated rush, “I really like you, Minnie.” 

   He smiled slightly, “I like you, too, (Y/N). You’re my best friend.” With that, he gave you a side hug and giggled. “Hey, race you to the swingset,” he challenged, taking off in a run. You sighed and followed after him. Your best friend.

   You shake yourself from the memory. It’s amazing how something that happened years ago can stick with you. That was the first and only time you confessed your feelings for Minseok. They persisted for several years after the incident, but they have finally subsided to a dull ache in your chest. Of course, you still loved him. After all, you were best friends. 

   “(Y/N)!” 

   You whirled around at the call of your name. Minseok was rushing towards you, arms wide open, a childish glint in his eyes. He always transported you back in time, made you wonder what could have been. 

   “Minnie!” You shouted in return, wrapping your arms around him once he finally closed the distance between the two of you. 

   “I’ve missed you,” he said, squeezing your body tight. 

   “I’ve missed you, too. How was the tour?” You ask, pulling away and giving him a bright smile. Exo had just returned from yet another world tour, their biggest yet, to be precise. You were so proud of your best friend for all of his accomplishments, but damn did you miss him.

    “Amazing, you wouldn’t believe, (Y/N). The stadiums we played and our fans, it was all more than I could have hoped for,” he said wistfully. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about performing made you want to get lost in them, but you couldn’t afford that. Instead, you looked down at the bag hanging in Minseok’s grip.

   “What’s that, Minnie?” He looks down at the bag in surprise, like it’s the first time he’s seen it. 

   “Oh, yeah. This is for you. A little gift from your favorite idol.” He winked and handed you the bag. You rolled your eyes and reached into it, your fingers folding around a flat object. Pulling it out, you couldn’t help but giggle. It was their most recent album.

    “You know I buy every version of all of your albums already, right?” He nodded and motioned for you to open the actual album. 

   “Yeah, but this one is special, trust me.” He was practically bursting with energy, bouncing on his toes. Man, he looked like a kid in a candy shop. He never really grew up. You carefully open up the album, eyes searching for what exactly made this album so much different from the others. Then you notice the black squiggles in the corner.

   “Uh, Minseok, did you sign an album for me?” You tried to keep your laughter at bay while he gave you a look of exasperation.

   “No, no. Ugh, it’s Suho’s signature! I know how he’s your bias, so I asked him to sign a copy for you. I thought it would take more convincing than it did, but, look, he even put hearts!” He pointed excitedly at the tiny hearts that decorated the page. 

   You smiled slightly and pulled him into another hug. “Thanks, Minnie. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.” He shrugged nonchalantly and flashed his cute, gummy smile.

Your bias wasn’t Suho. Sure he was great and an amazing leader, but your bias was standing right in front of you. Of course, you would never tell him that, so when he questioned you about your bias in Exo, you had to pick someone. So, Suho it was.

   “Are you ready for dinner now?” He asked, holding out his arm for you to grab. You hooked your arm around his and nodded. To anyone with eyes, you would have looked exactly like the perfect couple. But you were only best friends.

   A few weeks later you found yourself at yet another dinner with Minseok, but this time the entirety of Exo was joining in. Okay, technically you were joining in on their dinner, but you were invited by the leader himself apparently, so you weren’t intruding. Minseok sat across from you, looking as handsome as ever. You always wondered how he can manage to look so damn good but still boyishly cute at the same time. You were convinced it was in his eyes, your favorite feature of his. They held so much love and tenderness as well as mischief and playfulness. You mentally cursed yourself at your feelings. Minseok was your best friend, nothing more. And that was okay, you told yourself. 

   “Are you having fun, (Y/N)?” Suho leaned over and whispered in your ear over the noise of the boys. Despite his soft tone, he startled you, causing you to jump back slightly. 

   He smiled sweetly and rested a hand on your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

   You laughed and shook your head. “No worries, I’m just jumpy. I’m having fun, thank you for inviting me. I hope Minseok didn’t bother you about it too much.” 

   He tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Minseok didn’t bother me about it at all. It was my decision. I wanted you here.” 

   You could feel your face reddening by the second. Suho wanted you here? “I-I, sorry. I just thought Minseok was the one that insisted on me being here.”

   “Hey, Minseok can’t be the only one to want you around,” he said shyly, looking down at the floor. You glanced over at Minseok, who was already eyeing the two of you. When you caught his gaze he shot you a playful smile and turned back to bothering Sehun.

   “(Y/N)?” You turned your attention back to the man beside you. “I like you and I would love the chance to get to know you better. Would you like to go on a date with me next weekend?” Your heart stopped and your eyes fluttered about nervously until they landed on Minseok. The man you have loved since you were seven. Your confidant. Your rock. Your best friend.  You tore your gaze away and made your decision. 

“Yes, Suho. I would love to.” 

   Later that night as you were laying in bed, your phone dinged with a series of texts popping up on the screen.

10:58 PM // Minnie: Soooo, I heard someone has a little date next weekend

10:58 PM // Minnie: I had to hear it from Suho

10:58 PM // Minnie: Why didn’t you tell me?? I’m your best friend

Your heart clenched at his last message. 

11:00 PM // You: Sorry, Minnie. I got caught up in the excitement of the night and forgot when I got home :/

   The truth is that telling him would have felt too final. Your silly heart still wanted to hold onto hope.

11:01 PM // Minnie: I forgive you this time. But you have to let me know everything afterward because I know Suho won’t spill shit 

   You giggled and shook your head. 

11:02 PM // You: Of course, Minnie. I’m going to sleep now, it’s late and I have work tomorrow. Goodnight :)

11:02 PM // Minnie: Goodnight, (Y/N)... 

   You chewed your bottom lip in thought. An ellipsis?? He had never used those on you before. What was he not saying? You almost asked him when you shook your head and placed your phone face down on the night table before turning over. So much for sleep. Those three dots had you tossing and turning all night.

   As the week dragged on, your contact with Minseok become less frequent. His messages became short and he didn’t even respond when you asked him about which dress you should wear on your date. This was unlike him but you just assumed he was busy. It was the night before your date with Suho and you were trying your best to relax. You had a face mask on and some shitty celebrity news show on the television. It was mainly for background noise as you scrolled through your phone. You had reached the end of your feed when you heard a familiar name from the TV. 

   “EXO’s Xiumin pictured out with a new mystery girl. Hm, is the oldest EXO member officially off the market?”

    A picture of Minseok cozied up to a girl in a cafe flashed on the screen. You had no clue who she was. Maybe that’s why Minseok has been so distant lately, you thought. You shook your head and shut the TV off. You decided to ask Minseok directly. He’s your best friend, there are no secrets between you, right? 

8:32 PM // You: When you were gonna tell me you were seeing someone new, Minnie? I want to hear all about her!!

   That was a blatant lie, but you desperately wanted him to respond. You stared at your phone as the dreaded ‘read’ popped up under your message. He never responded. Tears filled your eyes but you blinked them back. Puffy eyes from crying yourself to sleep was not the look you were going for.

   Nervous butterflies had made themselves at home in the pit of your stomach as you got ready for your date. Suho had texted you telling you how excited he was and you smiled a genuine smile for the first time that week. You were determined to make this a fresh start. You had tried dating in the past to get over Minseok, but they hadn’t worked so you gave up trying for a while. Suho was different, at least you hoped he would be. As six o’clock rolled around, you were preparing to leave your apartment and head to the restaurant to meet Suho. You went through a mental checklist of things you needed to have before leaving. Phone? Check. Lipstick? Check. Keys? Check. You opened the door to leave. Minseok? Check. 

   “Minseok?”

   He stood at your door, out of breath and disheveled. “(Y/N).” That’s all he could breathe out. 

   “W-what are you doing here?” You nervously wrapped your arms around yourself and avoided his eyes.

    “I’m here for you,” he said, his voice shaking. 

   “For me?” You were genuinely confused. “Did Suho send you to get me or something?”

   Minseok let out a short laugh and shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Quite the opposite actually. He would rather me not be standing at your doorstep right now.”

   “Minseok, I don’t understand.”

    “I know, I know. Can I come in? I’ll explain everything.” 

  You sighed and opened your door for him to come through. He immediately collapsed onto your couch and ran a hand through his messy hair. You stood in front of him nervously, pressing your lips together tightly. 

   “(Y/N),” he started, “How would you feel if I told you I loved you?” His words knocked the breath from your lungs.

   “Min-Minseok, you tell me you love me all the time. You know I love you, too.” 

   He shook his head adamantly. “If I told you I really loved you, (Y/N). More than as a friend.” His eyes were desperately searching yours the way your own had done to his many times before. You couldn’t respond. He sighed and reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

   “(Y/N), do you remember what you gave to me on the playground that day when we were little kids?” He stood up and walked to your frozen figure, his wallet in his grip. You slowly nodded, finally looking in his eyes. For once, they were unreadable. He reached into the fold of his wallet, his fingers searching for something between the crisp, new bills. When he pulled his hand away, there was a pressed, dry, dandelion between his fingers. 

   “I have kept this with me ever since. It’s been my good luck charm. It was with me when I auditioned for SM. It was there for Exo’s debut, and it was right there with me for every last one of our tours. (Y/N), you’ve always been with me, and I don’t know why it has taken me this long to realize it, but I need you here with me. Actually with me.” Your eyes stared down at the fragile little flower in his palm and a tear slipped out of the corner of your eye. 

   “Minnie, I-,” you cut yourself off, trying to choke back the other tears threatening to spill. 

   “(Y/N), just answer that one question for me, okay? I promise I’ll leave you alone if you want nothing to do with me. How would you feel if I told you I loved you?” You looked up at him and saw his eyes brimming with tears as well. Within a second you were pulling him into your embrace and burying your face in the crook of his neck. He slowly wrapped his arms around you and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief.

   “I would feel like the luckiest woman in the world, Kim Minseok. I love you, too. Really love you.” 

   He pulled you onto the couch with him and held you close, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck. That’s when you caught a glimpse of the clock and shot straight up.

   “Minnie, what about Suho?” 

   “Don’t worry, I talked to him. He did like you, but I think deep down he knew my feelings before I did. He told me it was your decision, and if you wanted me, he would respect that,” he told you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. You nodded and pulled out your phone to send a message to Suho, explaining everything in the best manner possible. A moment later he had responded.

6:15 PM //  Suho: It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m happy for both of you. 

   You smiled sadly before putting your phone away, relaxing back into Minseok’s side. He carefully stroked your hair, something he had done thousands of times over the years, but this felt different. Everything felt different now. His touch, his presence, his words, his eyes. All because he was yours… 

   “Wait, Minnie?” He hummed in response. “Who was that girl with you at the cafe?”

   A laugh escaped his lips and you turned to look at him. “Don’t worry. She’s a trainee I am mentoring for a new project with SM. The press will distort anything, but my manager is supposed to be handling it.” 

   “Oh, but why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” You swatted his chest playfully.

   “I don’t know. My emotions and mind have been all over the place this past week. Every time I saw your name on my screen I lost track of all my thoughts.” 

   “Hmm,” you rested your head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “I can’t believe you love me, Minseok,” you whispered, your fingers grasping onto his shirt tightly. His finger found its way under your chin and tilted your face up to meet his.

   “Believe it, because I’m not going anywhere.” 

   Your eyes wandered down to his lips, territory that was once forbidden but now seemed as inviting as ever. Minseok closed the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours, loving and playful all at once, just like Minseok. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The love of your life.

[bma-2020]

Ppl who deserve more attention bc they’re amazing and wonderful and geniuses and should be given all the love and attention, like what are you doing if youre not giving them attention, OC edition bc i’m gonna be here all day no matter what, it’s only 10 pm and i’ve only been awake the last three hours bc its c/omic c/on and ya girl cant chill ever, like at all, also one of these ppl can get a pop today at a hot t/opic if they wanna and slightly edit it to be his OC, at least I think, I don’t watch the show his fc stars in, brains been dead for a few hours but whos surprised.

@strxnzo here’s whats up, I’m Italian, only part, but I am and I’m made fun of for it constantly, but you know what’s awesome, Italian representation from someone good at everything, aka not A/riana G/rande, and that’s sophie. Sophie is fantastic, Eliza is incredible, i love you sm, you’re beautiful, you’re a beautiful writer, where is your own fanbase you should be more famous than H/BO

@gracemxrked You are so clever, you’re so passionate about everything you love and everything you do it’s absolutely beautiful. Your OCs are so clearly crafted from a realm of pure love and devotion to your art and it’s so inspiring and so beautiful and I adore you so much. You deserve the utmost world, your OCs deserve all of the attention, you’re so incredible and I love you. 

@aquamedic You have such an amazing level of creativity, it just flows through all of your body veins, all of your brain squiggles, you’re just pure creativity and it’s beautiful. Your muse is beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re super smart. For C/omic C/on one of the exclusive pops is I think of that one DC char the actor you use is one of them, i dont know 100% bc i dint remember the name but the look is similar i think i watch none of thr cw shows at all so im not 100% on it, it’s at H/ot T/opic, what I do is I get pops that look kind of like my muse and just say it’s my muse so if you do the same thing the option is right there now, it’s awesome, you’re awesome, you deserve nice things

@streetxcat You’re so incredible and so genius, I just I adore you so much. You n your twinny who is also tagged here somewhere probably right below you you’re just incredible, your relationship is goals worthy, like I love watching you two talk to each other, you’re so cute together and youre so creative and so clever, cat is such an amazing lil bab who has been through so much and bad things have happened to her but she’s so beautiful and wonderful and well written she deserves all the good things in life and everything, I owe you a reply n i love you so much 

@famebounded you’re so awesome, you’re just so smart and so clever, you’re so artistic, your drawing talent that I know you must have worked years to achieve because you’re so amazing at it is just you’re so amazing and you’ve done so well and continue to do so well, you’re able ot art and able to write and just so many amazing things all at once and like, I can kind of art and kind of write but you’re like amazing and can do everything amazingly and only ever get better everytime I actually read something on the dash which everyone knows I do like never but when I do and when its yours or anyone elses it’s just y’all are so talented and amazing like how do y’all exist being so talented and smart and amazing and incredible it just it must be tiring being so incredible idk how y’all do it and you’re so nice, I owe you a relpy over on pikachu too i know i’m so slow and awful but you deserve the best and i strive to give back the best, it was partially written this morning but lappy restarted so i’m sorry it’ll probably be posted friday because im awful but you’re amazing and i love you, you nad everyone elses here your passion is just incredible and amazing i love you

there are so many over amazing ocs i follow and wanna write with or do write with and honestly i feel really bad because at some point writing this i forgot every single persons name, but i do love you guys so much. i’m very heavily medicated at the moment and probably wont remember posting this but i just saw a few of you on my dash and was just so filled with adoration and love and adoration you’re just all so beautiful and amazing, i need to sleep soon cause i gotta drive over to fashion island tomorrow for c/omic c/on shopping cause its the only b&n near me that’s stocked and driving there is vaguely cheaper than ordering it online cause I get the in store discount that I dont get online since its my sisters acct, btu i just, i love you guys, im crying bc i llove you all so much, you all deserve only good amazing wonderful thinsg, lappy is freezing rn bc i’m trying to make screeencaps for someone and it hates my screencapping binges bc screencaps are so much space and i have so little space and always forget to empty the recycle bin before doing things, you’e all so wonderful and i love all of you and even if youre not mentioned i still love you you deserve great things always have good thoughts abt yourself and even in moments you dont just know youre amazing and wonderful and deserve good things and goodnight

[whentommymetalfie]

Tommy in those glasses always gets me and I wonder if they get Alfie too. Like Tommy's beautiful af without the glasses and beautiful af with the glasses. Sin, no one should look good both ways and no one should be as pretty as tommy

Tommy indeed has a beautiful face, with and without glasses.I give you: domestic fluff featuring glasses!

-Tommy realises that he needs glasses when he’s trying to read Charlie a bedtime story one night and has a headache afterwards.

-So he gets himself a pair, and is secretly just a little worried about what Alfie will think. But of course Alfie loves them, because they’re on Tommy’s face after all.

-Alfie loves Tommy’s glasses for several reasons.

-They give him a certain schoolteacher look, which he isn’t opposed to. It’s sweet. 

-It’s possible that Alfie had just a slight crush on one of his teachers as a young boy. But that’s got nothing to do with anything.    

-But mostly, he loves all the little things associated with them.

-Tommy wears them in the morning, when he’s sitting by the kitchen table reading the paper and trying to keep Charlie from throwing his piece of toast onto the floor. Cyril is patiently seated there, hoping for the same to happen.

-And when he’s sitting in the nursery with Charlie on his lap, reading him a bedtime story. Charlie is still too young to understand any intricate plots. 

-So it’s mostly things along the lines of: A dog living on a farm searches for the source of a strange noise (spoiler alert, it’s the farmer sleeping in a hammock)

-Alfie comes to stand in the doorway and looks fondly at them. Charlie reaches out and starts babbling excitedly. Clearly, daddy also needs to hear this thrilling adventure.  

-Alfie joins them, sitting down next to Tommy on the small sofa and putting an arm around him. 

-Tommy curls up against him before continuing the story. They sit like that until Charlie falls asleep.

-As soon as Charlie learns to hold a pen, he starts drawing. Which means he soon has a great deal of pieces to show his fathers. 

-Tommy dutifully puts his glasses on and looks closely at the scribbles as Charlie points and explains.

“Daddy-“ a large black squiggle, that could with some imagination indeed be a person.

-Tommy hums and shows great appreciation for the art.

“Papa-“ a smaller one.

-Tommy points to the largest one. “And that, darling?”

-Charlie points toward Cyril who is snoozing by the fireplace.

-After years of reading nothing but newspapers -because who has time for anything else? Ridiculous- Tommy has slowly taken to reading actual books. 

-Alfie comes in from saying goodnight to Charlie and Tommy is in their bed, leaned against the pillows and with a book in his hands, wearing his glasses.

-He lays his head in Tommy’s lap and Tommy reads to him, while occasionally running his fingers through his beard.

-Alfie is by his desk, cursing over the bookkeeping once again. Tommy eventually gets fed up –Alfie is about to give himself a headache.

“Give me that, I’ll sort it out.” Tommy grabs the papers, pulls his glasses from his inner pocket and starts reading through them. “See, this is wrong- and this needs to be added there-“

-Alfie pulls him down onto his lap, and very little work gets done.

[darquedeath4444]

Those in Between

Chapter FIVE

There is a patterned knock from above and the sound of brush hitting paper pauses. Jiraiya looks up just as one of the ceiling planks moves to the side and a head with a pair of glowing green eyes cautiously peeks in over the edge. "Welcome back, Sakura-chan."

There is a small gasp and a nervous pause. "Jiraiya-sama." Sakura flips herself over and lands neatly in a crouch beside him. "I have returned."

Jiraiya grins and with deliberately slow actions, he ruffles her hair, chuckling when she preens at the contact. "How was it?"

Sakura pulls away and straightens herself. Her face is instantly a mask of indifference and her voice is monotone when she speaks. "There were no drastic changes noted," she says. She pulls out a file from her sleeve and hands it over. Jiraiya takes it and forces himself to smile when he sees the content.

"Thank you, Sakura-chan."

Sakura's lips twitch in displeasure at the honorific Jiraiya refuses to drop but she does not complain. The toad Sannin notes that he needs to push a little harder to go from displeasure to annoyance but decides to stop at this moment. Instead, he spreads the pieces of paper on his table. Sakura seems to like noting down her reports through drawings. It was a good idea, he thinks because they are...not that good and nobody would guess anything should she ever drop them.

Actually, he was being kind. When Orochimaru had been creating his human weapon, it seems he hadn't thought to give them drawing skills. He eyes the paper with utmost concentration. "So, that's a house..."

"Shop, Jiraiya-sama," Sakura supplies quietly.

Jiraiya chuckles. "Ah, yes, of course." He taps the square with the triangle sitting on top. "A shop, right."

Sakura smiles.

Jiraiya frowns at the thing beside it. "This is a..."

"Tea shop," Sakura chirps. "It is a tea shop."

"So you met the...source," He taps the squiggle of what he thinks is a ball of fur. "At the tea shop?"

Sakura nods. "He bought me dango," she says, smiling faintly.

Jiraiya hums. "And did they say anything?"

Sakura shows him the second page of her report.

This page is full of orange wriggles and blobs of black and Jiraiya narrows his eyes just a little. "No movements?" He asks, just to make sure.

Sakura nods. "No movement," she confirms.

Jiraiya sighs. Sakura is as thorough as she can be and it appears his source is doing just as well. Still..."I still don't like that you have to talk to him while I'm stuck here." He crosses his arms and leans back. "I mean, he's so dark and doomy gloomy and you might catch his monosyllable-nese. And he contacts you, not me! You could at least tell me before you leave, you know?"

Sakura frowns and taps her chin before her eyes brighten. "Ah!" Her lips twitch. "Trade secret."

Jiraiya sighs again and he shakes his head. "I wonder where you learn all these words."

Sakura hums and plops herself down on the bed. "Where to next, Jiraiya-sama?"

Jiraiya clicks his tongue. "That small village near Ame, I think."

Sakura nods and Jiraiya knows that her mind is already sorting through the heaps of information stored within her. "Rest, Sakura-chan. You'll be busy when we get there."

"Okay." Sakura kicks her legs out and flops down onto her bed. She shuffles around a little and hums in satisfaction. "Goodnight, Jiraiya-sama."

Jiraiya smiles warmly. "Night, Sakura-chan."

The girl is out like a flash and Jiraiya carefully pulls her blanket over her.

It has been five years since Jiraiya has taken the girl in and he thinks they have come a long way.

The Toad Sanin clearly remembers the first few months of their travels together. The girl had been an emotional mess, seeing grabbing hands only she could see and hearing voices only she could hear.

What made it worse had been that this was all within her own mind. On the outside, she was the perfect doll. She had done as told and spoke only when she was spoken to. Had Orochimaru been there to retrieve her, she probably would have been turned into an amazing assassin. With her exotic features and her deadly touch, she probably could have brought down hundreds.

Jiraiya had been disgusted with the shell Orochimaru had made her into; it was only the exterior that had made her even a little human.

Her first instinct in a 'fight or flight' situation was to kill whatever was making her uncomfortable. It had taken her months, almost a year, to break out of the habits that had been violently beaten into her.

But because she was a shell, once the outside had been shattered, Jiraiya had been able to fill her with the character of what a child should be. Because she was empty, she had taken in everything Jiraiya had to teach about the world without qualms. The forced suppression of knowledge and freedom had worked in his favor. Everything had been something new to her. The soft breeze through her hair. The river water than ran around her limbs. The distant chirping of birds. The smell of freshly baked bread in an early market.

Being able to walk around without being bound. The absence of a blindfold and a gag. The lack of metallic clanking of the shackles. The lightness of not having to drag around a sealed weight with a collar.

Gifts that did not require repaying a debt. Smiles that did not conceal mockery. Words that did not aim to hurt and belittle. Contact that did not hurt and cause pain.

Everything. He'd meant it when he that thought it.

He flips through Sakura's hand-drawn notes one more time and pulls out a scroll to gather it into a report.

Minato will be expecting a file soon.

Chapter SIX>

<Chapter FOUR