#climbed too many stairs yesterday maybe?

[iron-sides]

girl why do my calves hurt i don't do anything

[hypostatic-oath]

I've started playing Honkai Star Rail and I love how dramatically silly it lets me be. So far I have stolen mail, searched garbage cans, entered a closet to become one with the darkness, waxed on about how life is just a road to death to a terrified guy (somehow that seemed to make him less terrified), bowed in respect to a dumpster, investigated an inconspicuous lamp so many times it got mad at me, investigated a trash can so many times it insulted me, and felt bad for two different trash cans and several sandbags (I believe my Trailblazer is going insane from putting up with me). All this not counting with the countless dialogue options with NPCs around the world that allowed me to be incredibly dramatic (think almost Fischl style) for no reason (you can bet I took them). However, I cannot jump or climb, and fights are turn-based... we respect our opponents in Star Rail (and die. A lot).

What I conclude from this is that while the Traveler has a moral code (and some standards) when dealing with interpersonal interactions but isn't bound by physical restrictions or conventions (stairs? The Traveler does not understand that concept. Fair fights? Please, they don't have time for that), the Trailblazer is the exact opposite. The physical rules may hold them but their only ties to social rules or convention so far have been March and Dan Heng saying "hey, maybe don't fight the guards" and "hey, you can't just accept random jobs".

It also might be because the Traveler is a thousand year old entity that has been through A Lot (has learnt the power of friendship, but is too tired to take the long route) and is on a serious mission while the Trailblazer was quite literally Born Yesterday with the sole purpose of housing a massive problem inside their body (walks and fights like a Normal Person bc they're mimicking everyone else, but is absolutely unhinged) and is just having fun with tjeir newfound existence.

Either way I love both of them and they're basically cryptids but in different ways.

[strayed-quokka]

unsupervised || hwang hyunjin

» summary: there’s a reason you skip church on sundays, but no one would ever know that reason was your friend, hwang hyunjin.

» pairing: hyunjin x reader

» rating: NC-17 minors dni

» genre: friends with benefits, smut

» warnings: porn with like no plot, reverse cowgirl, creampie, possessiveness, sub reader, dom hyunjin, unprotected sex, spanking, mentions of marking, use of a vibrator, lingerie, form of breathplay (?), chocking, bruising, pet names, degrading names, brief crying, think that's it...

» words: 2,345

» a/n: so maybe i am a hyunjin blog… sue me... funnily enough i was working on my sunwoo smut when i decided to deviate a little… said sunwoo smut still coming though cause boyyy 🥵

Your family didn’t like Hyunjin. He’d never really given them a reason to dislike him, but your father especially liked to say that there was just something about him. 

When Hyunjin first found out your family's distaste for him, he immediately complained. He was sweet and attentive, helping your mother load the dishwasher after dinner, and even helping your younger brother with bible studies. From the outside, Hyunjin was a perfect gentleman and a close friend of yours, so what the hell was he doing wrong? 

He went to parties he didn’t want to attend if you were going just to make sure nothing happened to you and spent hours on homework that you didn’t understand just so that it felt a little bit easier for you. 

Hyunjin was sweet, until the day your friendship changed into something sinful, and maybe then you understood just what that something was that your father had been on about. 

It had been a Sunday morning and you’d felt unwell enough for your family to let you stay home from church. You weren’t nearly as religious and deep in your beliefs as them, but you still went with few exceptions and little complaint. That day had been an exception, and Hyunjin had come over to make you feel better. 

You’re still not entirely sure how trying to make you feel better resulted in him having his cock inside you, but you got addicted to it and he knew it. 

A few months in and far too many Sunday’s missed, your parents were getting suspicious, and on top of it, disappointed. However, your school work wasn’t faltering (second year of university was going surprisingly well), and your behaviour otherwise was more than perfect.

“What’s the excuse this time?” your mother asks as you come down the stairs, still dressed in your pajamas. You sigh, not meeting her eyes as you go to the fridge to grab some water. 

“I have a big project,”

“And that can’t wait an hour because-?”

“It’s a group project and we’ll be in a call,” a half lie. You did have a group project, but you weren’t doing it today, and your father seems to consider that you’re not telling the truth before he gives in. 

“This is the last time,” you nod, though you don’t think it is. It’s not like Sunday’s were your preferred days to have sex. It just happened to be one of the few times that your family was all out of the house and Hyunjin could wander in the front door. After the time he’d attempted to climb up to your window and nearly fell, that seemed to be the better option.

You wait fifteen minutes after they leave to give Hyunjin the clear, using the time you know it takes him to get here, to change into something you deemed nicer for the occasion. 

You’d bought it just yesterday, a lingerie set you hid under your bed just in case. It was a white corset, tight on your waist and pushing your breasts up and together, with a matching white thong. You liked the way it looked, deeming the price tag worth it as you hear the front door shut. 

“Where are you?!” 

“Bedroom!” you nearly want to add where I always am, genius, but you refrain. Hyunjin liked to be rough with you and you didn’t need to play with fire. 

“I swear these damn stair-” the man stops, his eyes shifting from annoyance to a dark lust as he licks his lips, chuckling lowly as he runs a hand through his black hair, “well, look at you.”

“Thought you’d like it,” he hums in approval, shutting the door behind him and moving closer to you. 

“I got you a present too,” you’re curious now, watching him reach into his pocket before revealing a small bullet vibrator, “I’m going to make you lose all sense.”

He pushes you, hard enough for you to stumble back and fall onto the bed as he throws his jacket off and his shirt over his head, on top of you not a second later. His kisses are hungry and desperate against your lips in a way that excites you, your thighs pushing together from the tension until he’s gripping one of your legs and forcefully pushing them apart, “don’t even try.”

You moan, feeling his large hand grip around your throat as he pulls away, hovering over you, “open your mouth.”

You obey immediately and the amusement in his eyes is clear as he shoves two of his fingers into your mouth, his other hand loosening the grip on your throat while you suck on his fingers. There’s no doubt in your mind that you already look like a mess, but Hyunjin loves you best that way. 

“Imagine if they knew what a whore you are,” you whimper, his fingers moving away from your mouth, down your neck and towards the swell of your breasts. It feels slightly wet from your saliva, and you can feel the arousal cling to your white thong and even along your thigh. 

“Look at you. It’s pathetic,” the day Hyunjin had first learned that you loved being insulted when in such a vulnerable position, marked the end for you. Ever since, he loved to make you feel completely submissive in his hold, especially because he knew that nothing turned you on more. He never missed a second to laugh at you for it. 

Hyunjin pushes the fabric of your corset down just slightly, but it’s enough for your breasts to spill out and for your erect nipples to meet the cold air. He watches you for a second, making you feel smaller while your legs push together and he tsks, “don’t you learn?” 

He practically tears your legs apart, one of his hands pushing your thigh into the mattress with his weight, enough to leave a bruise but you don’t care, while the other moves the fabric of your string thong to one side. Feeling his fingers adjust the piece of clothing and briefly run past your folds makes your eyes squeeze shut, a whimper leaving your throat while your hips push up into his hold.

“Poor baby,” he coos, the familiar mocking tone never leaving him, “it’s even on your thigh.”

You muster the strength to lift your upper body to have a look, but Hyunjin uses the hand that holds your thighs apart to push you back down, hand back on your throat as he squeezes lightly. It makes you dizzy, but you don’t want it to stop, even when he loosens his grip and gives you the chance to signal with your fingers to. You both had your signals, but rarely did you use them.

“You look so pretty like this,” his finger runs over your clit before he spits onto your already glistening folds, using his same finger to push his saliva inside your cunt.

“H-Hyunjin,” he doesn’t answer you in words, rather he lets his hand on your throat move down your chest, his nails scratching the skin. 

“You belong to me,” you nearly cry when he adds another finger, leaning down to suck on your neck, like he needs to mark every bare inch of skin to know that you’re his. 

“P-please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for anymore and it sounds pathetic, the way your voice breaks, but Hyunjin loves it. 

“Please what?” he leans over to one side, and you hear him turn on the vibrator he’d brought, applying light pressure to your nipple. He hisses when you clench around his fingers as a result, and you already know you’re going to come soon. 

“Let me come… p-please,” you beg, feeling his fingers quicken their pace whilst the vibrations continue over your nipples, occasionally more forceful and enough to make you shake. 

“Are you going to come?” 

“Yes! Y-yes,” everything stops. Hyunjin removes his fingers from you and puts the vibrator back down on the bed, and you can’t help the whimper and tears that fall from your eyes, “Hyun-”

“Are you crying?”

Normally, Hyunjin may be concerned, but he knows that your tears are a result of the orgasm you wanted but he wouldn’t let you have, “relax baby, I just want you to come around my cock, is all.”

He stands, removing the rest of his clothing before sitting back on the bed, patting his thigh in a gesture for you to climb on top of him. You do, dragging your body up as he watches you, “shouldn’t I take this off?” 

“No, I want it on,” you nod, feeling his hands cup your ass cheeks whilst you grind against him, his cock slowly pushing into your still clothed folds. Your body trembles as a response, and you swear you may have an orgasm soon just from this alone. He works on pushing your underwear to the side again, letting the tip of his cock move against you slowly, teasing your entrance as he pushes his head inside you before taking the pleasure away again. 

“Hyunjin… fuck me. Please fuck me,” he couldn't say no to that. 

“Turn around,” you do as you’re told, still straddling him as he lets his hand collide with your ass cheek. The sight makes him nearly lose it, and he decides to lose his resolve and push his thick cock inside your cunt. 

“F-fuck, how are you always so tight?” you groan, letting out shallow breaths as you try to adjust to his size, though he barely gives you much time before he’s bringing you further down onto his cock, “good girl.”

You mewl at the praise, sat over his hips as you lean onto his legs. He loves the way his cock has completely disappeared inside you, and if it were up to him, he’d move in a heartbeat, but he knows you always like to move first when it comes to being on top, and he respects what you want even if his words towards you say otherwise. 

When you first move, his eyes shut tight and he hisses, feeling you clench around him again as you begin bouncing on his cock, slow and careful first before becoming more comfortable. It’s when you begin to quicken your pace that he can’t take it anymore, gripping your hip with one hand before slapping your ass with the other. You clench around him every time and he smirks, a deep chuckle vibrating in his throat, “you like that?” 

But he already knows the answer, seeing you sink down on his cock drives him wild, but it isn’t quite enough of what he wants. 

He wants to make you scream. 

Hyunjin uses the strength he has to bring his hands around you to cup your breasts, using the grip he has on you to pull you down onto him, arching your back at an angle that has him deeper inside you than before, and he pushes his hips up enough so he can replace your thrusts against him with his own. 

“Oh god. Hyunjin!” he’s relentless, fucking up into you as you grip the sheets and try to steady yourself but it’s impossible. You let him be the only thing that keeps you in place, pulling you down further by your hair and going deeper. 

“Mine. You’re all mine, got it?” you nod, letting him grope your breasts while his other hand finds your throat again, cutting off your pathetic cries and replacing them with mewls and whimpers of pleasure, “you take my cock so good, fuck.”

He releases your breasts and fumbles with something, and it takes you a second to register that he’s reached for the vibrator and that it’s now teasing your clit whilst he’s fucking into you, and it’s embarassing how quickly you come, screaming his name when you do. 

It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve had in your life and Hyunjin feels it too, the way your whole body shakes viciously against him as he tries to keep you steady, still thrusting into you until his own orgasm follows yours, his cum spilling inside of you, a low growl ripping through his throat when he thrusts up one more time to keep it stuffed inside you. 

You both don’t move for a minute, mostly because you’re both so spent that you have to remember where you even are, and Hyunjin is incredibly careful when he lifts you off him, your muscles crying out as you fall next to him. He pulls you into his arms, though he knows it’s only for a little while before he has to leave and come back later under the pretence that he’s visiting you for the first time that day, supervised.

“They’ll be back soon,” he says, but you want to ignore it. You don’t want them to come back, but it’s not a choice, “you should shower.”

“I don’t want to,” he sighs, gently pushing you away from him though it breaks his heart a little when he does. 

“Go shower. I’ll hide the evidence,” you laugh, hitting him lightly though it’s rather pathetic with how your energy is completely wasted. 

You listen to him anyway, standing under the shower and cleaning your skin, and when you come out, your bed is freshly made and your window is open, a floral scent in the air. There’s also a sandwhich on your nightstand with a note, and you realise he must’ve left before he could say goodbye. 

I heard the car so I ran for it. Forgive me, I love you :)

You laugh, shaking your head at the idiot you call your friend, but you’re also relieved at his attentiveness for the noise downstairs tells you you’re not home alone anymore. 

Hours later, you nearly curse Hyunjin for the knowing smirk he gives you when sat at the dining table with your parents, knowing it’s exact intent. 

He’s wants to go again and this time, he doesn't care that your family is home. 

i am not a hyunjin blog

comments and feedback appreciated. i'm on a writing streak so i'll likely be back with more filth soon also excuse the banner i'm tired and can't afford photoshop anymore 🤧

[crplpunkklavier]

there is something to be said about how i really barely feel disabled anymore once i'm in a truly accessible space. because the space is no longer disabling me.

so, we went to see the @montereybayaquarium for our honeymoon. we didn't make it through the whole aquarium on our first day, so we went twice. on day 1, i came to the ticket desk with my cane and said i'd like to have a wheelchair. on day 2, i didn't bring my cane, and once again requested a wheelchair. there was absolutely no difference in the employees' reactions: i didn't have to ~look disabled~ to be immediately met with a nod, and a wheelchair that 1) was my size and 2) i was able to move myself.

this is going to seem like a list of things that clear a very low bar, and i suppose it is. but i have been to bookfairs that attempted to take my cane from me because they didn't believe me i needed it, as if cane users carry cane prescriptions around with them (NOT A THING.), and who only let up when my friends and i explained to them (not reminded. explained) that what they were doing was illegal. the cologne zoo only has visitor wheelchairs that can be pushed by a companion, not wheeled by the user themselves. the art museum needs me to bring my own. so, you see where i'm coming from.

the aquarium was fully accessible. (at least for me as an ambulatory wheelchair user - i of course can't speak for people with different disabilities.) there was no exhibit i was cut off from by stairs, because all of them either had reasonable ramps (not too steep), or elevators that were quick and roomy enough not to make me feel like i was missing out. every exhibit was at a height/level that someone sitting down could still see. some of the active touch exhibits (like getting to pet certain animals or feel kelp) were trickier, but staff always came forth unprompted to ask me (not forcibly, just ask) if i could reach everything okay, and if i couldn't, they leaned down and over to help me get where i wanted. there was a walk-through bird enclosure where a staff person followed us, and explained that the doors need to open and close somewhat quickly, so she'll just stay around us while we're there, and as soon as i'm ready to exit through the door i was to let her know. she was fully in the background while we were in there, and at no point did i feel like i was under any pressure to get out soon, or like i was inconveniencing her.

literally the only difficult thing about going through the aquarium with a wheelchair was that at the very end of the day we weren't entirely sure where to give it back. the only difficult thing about going through the monterey bay aquarium with a wheelchair was getting rid of the wheelchair!

am i just advertising the monterey bay aquarium in this post? maybe. yeah. they're good in general and i'll give them as many free ads as i want. they were just also a really good example for accessibility that made me feel like a completely normal aquarium visitor. like i wasn't disabled, because the place enabled me to visit it.

and it's on my mind now that i'm back home in germany, because yesterday i had to take a train from a station that had me crawl up 4 flights of stairs with a cane and a suitcase around crowds of people that didn't help. and it wasn't that the elevator was broken or anything. it's that plenty of train stations even in large cities like cologne simply are not accessible for anyone who can't climb stairs.

and the aquarium was a good example for how it's not just things like ramps and available wheelchairs that are necessary, but how their staff also clearly knew what they were doing. there is an etiquette to learn for people who had never worked with disability before (you will at some point!), and they'd learned it. my needs never stumped them. and i got to spend my honeymoon feeling like an easy customer and only ever weeping because i got to see the ocean.

[neowinestainedress]

push and pull | suh johnny

title: push and pull | part of christmas must be something more

pairing: suh johnny x oc

summary: fighting for dominance with johnny is not a smart idea, jade knows, but she doesn’t seem to care.

genre: smut, non-idol au, established relationship, (implied) polyamorous relationship, smutmas

warnings: power play | sex toys (c*ck ring), handjob, oral sex (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, 'forced' orgasm (not noncon, it's just pride getting in the way), multiple orgasms, slight fem dom, switch!oc, switch(not really)!johnny

words: 5.194k

taglist: @webscreams @multislut @roxyvogue @dullparadisewithtxt @yutas-princess02 @seongwhaffels @cosmiczen @adorejhyun @douma-me @more-douma-pls | couldn't tag: @yutascoffee127

a/n: i know i was supposed to post this yesterday but i'm extremely busy with my thesis and also after what happened yesterday to the neos i wasn't in the mood to finish editing this and post it. taeyong story will come out next week! anyway, wanted to write this dynamic between them for so long so i hope you like it!

Johnny knew her. 

Johnny knew exactly what Jade was trying to do. He didn’t need to drag the words out of her mouth to understand the evil plan that was running in her mind. 

It was quite funny, actually, to see how she thought it was working, slowly trying to make her way into his brain and turning him into something he wasn’t. 

“We’re all alone,” she said, trotting down the stairs, sitting next to him on the couch and starting to caress his nape, making him smirk. And he wanted to remark how he wasn’t Taeyong, and apparently not even Jaehyun, seeing that it seemed that for a work of miracle she got him to submit too, but he let it slide. If she wanted to play some games he was going to let her. 

“Mhh, yeah, keep doing that,” he encouraged instead, throwing his head back and moaning at the gentle touches of her fingers on his scalp and neck. It did feel good, but if she believed that it was what it took him to get on his knees… well, she was wrong. Still, playing into a fantasy, he started faking more moans, having to hold back his grin when her lips curled into a smirk of victory that faded as soon as he kissed her. One of Johnny’s strong hands wrapped behind her neck, pulling her closer, while the other pushed against the small of her back, securing her in a hold that swiftly gave him the chance of turning her around under him. 

“Johnny,” she cried out, huffing in disappointment, “that’s not fair.” 

Johnny chuckled, kissing her again hungrily. “Honey, nothing is fair when you’re the first one playing dishonest games.”

That was one of the many failed attempts. Deep down Jade knew Johnny wasn’t going to fall to his knees, she couldn’t bend him like she did with Jaehyun, probably she could win some minutes of submissiveness from Yuta, but nothing from her oldest boyfriend. And at this point she felt it wasn’t even about domming him, she just wanted to see how far she could push him before he snapped. 

“I’m exhausted,” Johnny huffed, coming out of the shower already changed into his nightwear, and slumping in her bed, between the pillows — too many pillows — that were placed on the crown. 

“I didn’t even hear you came home,” she said, turning around from her desk position, and shutting off her computer after making sure she had saved the last project she was working on, some boring ass holiday visit card for a company she could barely remember what treated. 

Johnny hummed, hair still damp sticking to his forehead, ankles crossed on top of each other and neck in perfect view as he sat on the mattress with his head rolled against the wall. 

Jade gulped, that was the perfect occasion — and also the perfect view, cause, fuck, he was so hot. He was tired, he needed to unwind, it was the right moment when maybe she could’ve got what she wanted. So she walked toward him slowly, climbing on the bed and positioning herself on his lap, fingers immediately reaching behind his neck to rub circles. 

Johnny’s lips parted and she couldn’t hold in the smirk. Maybe Johnny didn’t like to submit but he loved when she did that, it wasn’t so surprising that Taeyong and Jaehyun could submit so easily with that. 

“Bad day at work?” 

Johnny hummed, he could feel her voice had dropped, typical of when she tried to get a reaction. “Shooting Christmas family photos of famous people it’s even worse than the normal ones.” 

She chuckled, still caressing him, the sharp nails grazing against his skin so nicely she could feel him shiver with every brush. “Are we considered a normal one?” 

Johnny giggled, cracking an eye open to look at her. “We are anything but normal.” 

“Good, I like it,” she replied, leaning in to start leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw. 

“Jade,” Johnny mumbled, placing his hands on her hips firmly. 

“Shh,” she whispered, hot breath hitting his earlobe before she nibbled on it, making him hiss, “let me take care of you, please. You’re so stressed, daddy.” So apparently that was the new plan, making him believe he was in control, while he absolutely wasn’t. It would’ve worked if only they weren’t playing the exact same game against each other, both unaware of who was going to win. 

Johnny only smirked, letting her do her thing, watching her hands trail on his chest, pretty fingers moving slowly to unhook the buttons of his shirt before they ran on his skin, flicking the nipples, eliciting a broken moan from him. “Are you laughing?” He scoffed, tilting his head to stare at the smile on her face. 

“No,” she denied, but her thumb grazed his nipple again. “Does it feel good, daddy?” 

Johnny groaned, head thrown back as she kept teasing that sweet spot, of course, it did, but he was going insane over the way she was trying to play him like a violin. That wasn’t her submissive voice, no amount of slurred-out ‘daddy’ could make that her broken, pliant, breathy submissive voice. That was the lusty voice, soothing and venomous, deep and with a teasing edge always lingering in the back of every word. It was quite entertaining though that she believe he didn’t know her so deeply, that he couldn’t tell the games she was playing; all her cards were uncovered and he was just staring, ready to make his winning move. 

So he still let her; no easy game is too funny. He wanted to watch her burn in the same fire she was lighting up. 

“Feeling better?” Jade asked, moving one hand up on his face while the other moved down, past the elastic band of his pants. 

“A bit,” he replied, biting his lip when her cold hand wrapped around his half-hard cock. 

She smirked at his reaction before she rolled the tip between her thumb and palm, provoking a groan. 

“Where are you going?” When she jumped off the bed he stared at her running to the closet, left unsatisfied and turned on. “Jade?” He asked when she didn’t answer, trying to cut out the stern tone. 

“I’m taking care of you,” she replied, hands hidden behind her back before she climbed on top of him and kissed him immediately, not leaving him time to pry about what was going on. Johnny groaned into the kiss when he felt cold liquid come in contact with his tip, legs stiffing and hands pushing her away. 

“What are you doing?” 

She huffed, pulling down his clothes to don’t stain them and picking back where she stopped. “I told you, taking care of you.” 

“This doesn — uhm,” he moaned when her lips crashed on his again, forcing his head back against the headboard, hand moving in quick motions with purposeful wrists twists that were pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “You sound so pretty, daddy,” she mumbled barely pulling away from his lips before her teeth grabbed his lower lip and pulled roughly. 

“Jade,” he groaned, but his voice was followed by a whiny sound that made her shiver in anticipation. That was until her name rolled out of his lips another time, deeper and sterner when her fingers slipped something around his cock. “Fuck,” Johnny cursed when vibrations started buzzing around his hard girth, head reclining before he could even look down between his legs and see the black cock ring she put on him. 

Jade licked her lips while looking attentively at him, eyes shut, nostrils flaring and lower lip trapped in his teeth. The power she was feeling flowing in her vein had no equal. 

“Since when do we — fuck — do we have a cock ring?” He breathed out, lifting his head to look at her, voice shaking when her hand wrapped around him and added to the stimulation. 

She shrugged, grinning evilly, and shaking her head. “Does it matter?” 

“Yes because — fuck — turn it off,” he grunted, but his body was betraying him, hips bucking up, meeting her hand in desperate humps trying to come. 

“Please, don’t tell me it feels bad. Don’t you want me to take care of you, daddy?” She batted her eyelashes, forcing a pout on her lips. “Your cock looks so pretty like this, you know?”

Johnny rasped, the back of his head hitting the hard surface behind him once again. He stared at her through lidded eyes, lips parting to let out unusually higher whispers while his hips ground up following the rhythm of her hand. 

The triumphant smile on her face was hiding while her head was lowered, concentrating her movements on his dripping tip before an idea crossed her mind. She let go of his throbbing dick and grabbed the lube bottle, pouring a good amount on her fingers before slipping it down on his rim. 

“Don’t,” Johnny warned, head snapping up. 

“I’m not doing anything,” she defended, looking at him with innocent eyes. “I’m just rubbing against it, won’t push in, daddy.”

“Stop calling me that,” he groaned, legs parting unconsciously to leave her more space. 

She chuckled, “thought that was how I’m supposed to call you?” 

Johnny glared at her, words choking in his throat when she started fondling his balls, dripping more lube. “You’re making a mess.” 

“We can sleep in your bed,” she giggled before her hand quickened and she raised the vibrations on it. 

“I’m close,” he grunted, chest heaving, legs twitching as the orgasm build up inside him until everything stopped. “Come back here,” he ordered, eyebrows knitted together, staring at her, sitting a bit further now, watching his cock throb pathetically. 

“You don’t make the rules tonight, daddy,” she replied with a smirk on her face. 

Johnny sighed deeply, hand running in his hair to brush them back. “You don’t want to lose my patience — fuck,” he screamed when she turned on the vibrations again at the maximum. “Come here,” he ordered, pushing down his throat the embarrassingly higher moans she was forcing out of him. 

“Don’t you want to come, daddy? You need to release the stress, don’t you?” In her voice there was a mocking tone while her hands grabbed the hem of his pants and pulled them down completely, leaving him bare on his lower half and spreading his legs apart. 

“Jade, I swear to God —” 

“What? That you will come untouched? Just like that thanks to a little toy?” 

“You’re — fuck — you’re playing with fire, babe.” 

She laughed, sitting on her knees between his legs and kissing him, pushing his hair back with a harsh tug. “Your moans are so pretty, baby boy.” 

Johnny laughed, shaking his head, and lifting her up, turning her over with a swift movement. 

“Enough is enough,” he groaned, swiftly reaching her pants to pull them down along with the panties and pushing into her before his orgasm could hit in such a desperate way. “You’re so fucking wet, Jesus, it really turns you on thinking you have control, doesn’t it?” 

“I have control,” she breathed out, glaring at him, and trying not to lose her composure as soon as he picked up a rhythm. 

“You don’t look in control anymore,” he teased, leaving a light slap on the side of her thigh before he let his head fall in the crook of her neck when he reached his high, emptying inside of her with low thrusts before he pulled out. 

She pushed him to the side as soon as he distracted himself to take off the cock ring. Trapping him under her, legs hooking at his sides. 

“Honey, still playing a game you know you can’t win?” He asked, voice calm and collected, and she shivered; here he was back again, the same Johnny she stood no chance with. She never had one, really, and she knew it, but it was so unfair that he made her believe she could. 

She yelped when he grabbed her and stood up from the bed, jumping off it and making her kneel. 

“Wanted to take care of me, didn’t you? Tried to play with my ass so badly.” 

Her brows furrowed, trying to understand where this was going. 

“Come here.” One of his legs raised and his foot planted on the mattress, leaving enough space for her to position right under him. “Play with my ass.” 

Her eyes glinted. “Can I?” 

He chuckled, “I’m ordering you to.” 

“You can’t order me.” 

“No? Oh, want me to ask you politely?” He cooed, lips turning in a pout. “Want me to beg? Please, mommy, please, suck my cock and eat my ass.” 

She glared at him, taking a deep breath because of course he was repaying her with the same coin. But she still moved closer to him, wrapping a hand around his cock before she licked a stripe on her ass, the taste of the lube meeting her tongue as she started licking and sucking, swift yet calculated movements of her tongue while her hands wrapped around his thighs and ass, kneading the flesh. 

“Fuck, babe,” Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and wrapping a hand around his cock to rub it slowly. “You’re so good with your tongue, you practice so much with Yong, don’t you?” 

“Shut up,” she growled against his skin but Johnny didn’t like it. Never talk back to Johnny in those moments. When he tugged her hair, she cursed under her breath, looking up at him as he forced her head to recline. 

“Shut up?” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, licking her lips, but he knew that wasn’t a genuine apology. 

“Babe,” he cocked his head, “do I have to sit on your face?” 

Jade licked her lips, eyes flaring to his, as if that was a punishment, but it wasn’t what she wanted that night, so she shook her head, and buried her face between his cheeks again. This time one of her hands moved up to fondle his balls and cock, massaging each of them in alternating movements, slowly eliciting low moans from him. 

Johnny would’ve let her keep going, maybe even fucked her face until she cried, but he didn’t want to come like that, so deciding she had learned her lesson, he pulled away when he felt too close. 

“Good girl,” he praised, tugging her hair, and ordering her to stand up without leaving the hold on her before he kissed her roughly, spit mixing and dripping down their chins. He dropped her on the bed and quirked a brow when she sat up. 

“Lay down,” he ordered, reaching her face to face. 

Jade shook her head stubbornly. “You lay down.” 

Johnny chuckled, “what are we, honey? Kindergarten kids?” 

“I want to ride you,” she said, batting her lashes, and doing pouty lips next to his face, brushing them against his. Here she was, once again trying to flip the tables. But Johnny liked this game of push and pull, especially since he knew he was going to win. So he let her believe she had a possibility another time. 

He laid against the sheets, head resting on the pillow, staring at her moving on top of him, legs at his sides and hands on his chest, running along the skin. He moaned when she flicked his nipples, rubbing the buds. 

“You’re so sensitive there, daddy. Why I’ve never noticed before?” 

“Because usually, you behave.” 

“I am behaving,” she replied. 

“Fuck, still not convinced aren’t you?” He huffed when she tried to still his hands above his head and started grinding against him while one hand wrapped around his neck. “I really have to put you back in your place, don’t I?” 

“I am perfectly where I have to be — fuck,” she screamed when he turned her over. Johnny wasn’t harsh, he had no need to be, he was big and strong enough to turn her around however he wanted and she knew it too, damn if she did. It was just so easy for him to move her and place her in any position he liked more with no need to tug roughly or force her down, she stood no chance to retort or push him away unless he let her believe she could. 

“Now you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.” 

Her jaw tightened when his cock stretched her out, thick and long filling her to the brim every damn time, his hands moving to block her legs and keep her still, this time not giving her any possibility of even thinking of a way to turn the situation around. Johnny had her right where he needed her to be, under him, shaking and writhing just for a few seconds before she gave up to pleasure and came back to her senses, letting him pound into her with deep thrusts. 

“Always pushing me to my fucking limits ’cause you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” 

Jade shook her head, biting her lips to muffle the moans, she didn’t want to give up so easily, no matter that the last thing for her to do was to surrender, it was a matter of pride. 

Johnny let out a sharp mocking laugh, shaking his head before he hissed when she clenched tightly around him. “No you didn’t, not this time,” he groaned, throwing his head back when her hips rolled against him. “You truly believed you could have control over me. Get two boyfriends on their knees and you think you own the world, don’t you?” 

She glared at him, at least tried to, it was hard to fake dominance when he was fucking her brain shut. 

“No, it’s fine, babe. You are a dreamer, aren’t you? But in the end, you will always be my dumb baby girl that never knows when to stop, aren’t you?” 

“I’m good,” she whined, cursing herself because it was supposed to come out of her mouth like a strong affirmation. The laugh that rumbled in Johnny’s chest made shivers run down her spine, and so did the gaze he was giving her. 

“Are you sure?” His deep voice reached just as far inside her body, twisting her insides, and making her whimper pathetically, but she kept pushing his buttons and nodded. As an answer, he only chuckled, picking back the rhythm, and holding her harder. “Of course, this is just a game to you, isn’t it? You’re bored, and you find new ways to have fun. But I also know my ways to have fun.” 

Her breath faltered when he pulled out and flipped her over, pushing her body on the mattress, only her ass up, and pushed into her again. No more words came out of his mouth other than deep moans and groans, fingers squeezing the skin of her hips, and thighs slapping loudly against her. 

Jade could only curse under her breath, feeling her heart pound fast in her chest and her orgasm build up swiftly. She hated how good Johnny was, and especially how much he knew her. Fingers leaving her waist to reach her clit and her nipple, stimulating her more. 

“N-no,” she cried out, knowing it would’ve been just a matter of seconds before coming if only he kept going. 

“No? You can make daddy feel good but daddy can’t make you feel good?” He cooed, lower lip pouting out, and even if she couldn’t see it, she could see his face inked behind her eyelids. 

An angry groan rolled out of her mouth, nails digging into the sheets and ass pushing up, making him smirk. 

“Oh, let me guess,” he whispered, “this is not how you want to come, right?” 

She nodded, head moving up and down swiftly. 

“Wanted to be the one fucking me. Wanted to see me beg for release, wanted me to whimper and moan like the pathetic mess that you are.” 

“I’m — I’m not a pathetic mess,” she cried out just proving his teasings were right. 

“I can see you’re trying to fight it, to hold the pleasure in,” he hummed. “If you keep biting your lips you will probably bleed.” 

“Please.”

Johnny scoffed, ignoring her, he wasn’t going to give her power, not like that. The rules were strict, and she knew them. Nothing of that kind was going to happen with him. So, his fingers started moving faster on her clit and her nipple, making her move under him, trying to squirm away from the hold. 

“You’re so fucking proud it will get you killed one day,” he huffed. 

“I won’t come,” she retorted, knowing her body was going to betray her soon. 

“Oh, trust me you will,” he replied with a smirk on his lips. “I know you will. I’ll make sure of it.”

And in a matter of a few seconds, her body betrayed her, cunt spasming around his cock while her ass pressed up against him, giving up holding in the sounds of pleasure he was forcing out of her with his deep strokes and his skilled fingers. 

“What did I — fuck — say?” Johnny groaned against her neck, gritting his teeth as her walls kept clenching around him and he forced himself to hold it in, wanting to keep fucking her, even if that meant edging himself too. “You can’t resist this cock, babe. Not mine, never.” 

Jade let out a sound mixed with a huff and a whimper, not knowing anymore what was running in her brain. Probably nothing was running through her mind anymore, nothing but the pleasure that was slipping into her body deeper with every thrust and flick on her sensitive spots. Coherence slowly dimming down against her will. She wanted to at least have mental control, to try to play some cards against him, but it was all useless, Johnny had all the control and she was just a puppet on a string. 

“Oh, poor baby, look at you,” he mocked in a condescending cooing tone, “thought you could top me? Dominate me? You are such a silly girl, my dumb girl, aren’t you?” 

She groaned, pride hurt, and brain filled with static noises by now, his slams were so good she couldn’t complain or retort not even if she wanted to. 

“That’s alright, angel, you look so pretty trying to fight me and overpower me, you know?” He teased. “Bet you would’ve even tried to pull out the strap-on, wouldn’t you?” 

She shook her head sincerely, that was a step too far-headed. 

“No?” He cooed. “But you love to use it so much, don’t you? It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it?” 

She hummed, crying out broken moans. “I — I just like — uhm — fucking you.” It wasn’t a total lie, she liked both things and the feeling was different for all of them. 

“Yeah, you do, and you’re so good at that, aren’t you? Learned from me? Do you fuck Yong like I fuck you?” 

Her head rolled forward, slumping in the mass of pillows around her, moving from side to side not even knowing if she was agreeing or not, she couldn’t remember what sex with the others felt like right at the moment, especially when she was the one giving. Johnny was all over her, and he was the only one filling her thoughts. 

“Maybe I could watch one day, just the two of you, putting you under a test, and if you fuck him well enough, who knows, I might let you do the same with me.” 

Her head snapped up, her heart swelling just imagining it, and a tender smile broke on Johnny’s face, no, that wouldn’t have happened. He knew she was good, he had seen them fuck countless times, and he wasn’t going to be on the receiving end, not if she wanted to dominate him, at least. 

“Want that, angel? Already imagining it?” He teased with a playful grin on his face, watching as her lips parted to let out feeble affirmative answers and her eyes were squeezed shut. His nails grazed her skin, pushing into it, leaving marks behind, his head thrown back as it was becoming harder and harder to hold the orgasm back. The deep mocking laugh that rumbled in his chest when she nodded made her shiver. “What a shame it won’t happen.” Johnny brushed her hair back, thumb circling her burning cheeks. “Don’t you see how pretty you look right at your place, right — fuck — underneath me?” 

Babbling came out of her mouth, stomach tightening once again, pussy clenching hard around him. 

“Yeah, you agree,” Johnny moaned, jaw tense and head thrown back, a droplet of sweat rolling down his forehead, “your body agrees. You know I make you feel good angel, so why even try to fight it?” 

“Please,” she moaned, eyes cracking open to glimpse at him. 

“Please, what? Can try to overpower me but can’t even beg politely? Oh, poor you, am I fucking you too well?” He teased with a mockingly sweet voice that made her brain spin faster. 

“Wan — want your cum, please, daddy.” 

Johnny chuckled, slipping a hand under her neck and pushing her closer to him. “You can do better than that,” he groaned, hips slamming faster against her, hitting deep and nice. 

“Please, daddy, come — come with me, fill me up, please. Need to be — fuck — need to be filled by you. Want your cum.” 

“That’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl,” he moaned. A few more thrusts’ sounds resonated in the room before they came to a stop, the pleasure overwhelming them both in a tangle of skin brushing together and cum leaking out with lewd sounds. Johnny gently placed her down again, pulling out against his will to don’t slump on top of her, he was too tired to keep his body up, and then rolled to the side, chest lifting up and down in swift motions. 

Jade snuggled closer, pressing her face against his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Are you okay, brat?” Johnny joked, rubbing his fingers against her nape. 

“You are a brat.” 

He chuckled before yawning and seeing how late it got. “Let’s go take a quick bath and then let’s sleep, come on. I’ll carry you; I know your legs can’t even keep you up.” 

“You were really rude before,” Jade pouted, moving the foam on his chest, fighting back a smile when Johnny laughed and threw his head back. “You are being rude.” 

“Babe,” Johnny said, caressing her cheek, marking it with the white foam, “you knew it was a game you were never going to win.” 

“But why not?” 

“Cause I like having control and I want to take care of you,” he explained. 

She pouted again, crossing her arms on her chest. “You always do this. It’s a problem because you never let us take care of you, you always need to have control —”

“Excuse me?” He stopped her, quirking a brow. “When you ask someone to do something for you and they do it, you go check as soon as they’re done and most of the time you redo it yourself, I wouldn’t talk about wanting control.” 

Jade huffed, head rolling back. “But it’s different. Is it because you always have to be tough?” 

“I can be vulnerable even while being dominant, I think I proved that to you enough,” he said, caressing her hips. “I’ll let you peg me, I mean, it’s not the first thing I take up in my ass and I trust you with a cock more than I trust the other three,” he joked making her laugh, “but that’s not what you want. Just like it wasn’t what you wanted with Jae.” 

She hummed. “Not even if I ease you into that?” 

“You ease into things? The same way you eased Jaehyun into this?” 

“Hey, he liked it!” 

“I know he did, just like I know I wouldn’t last. We would do this push and pull every time. Isn’t Taeyong enough? Now you even have Jay occasionally.” 

“They are, of course, they are. I don’t want to dominate you because I want control… I mean, yes, a bit, but I still think you always carry too much weight around, always, even when it comes to sex. I only want you to loosen up.” 

Johnny chuckled. “We could find a middle ground somewhere, I don’t know what it is, but I’ll try to think about it, okay? Can’t promise you anything.” 

“I don’t want to force you, though.” 

“I know. We had fun, I let you keep going because I was enjoying that,” he reassured, kissing her lips in a soft peck. “Well, you know what, I actually loved this, so why not? I don’t want you to act like this every time but we might do this power play thing again, and who knows, maybe one day I���ll be too exhausted to overpower you.” 

She giggled, leaning closer, resting her forehead on his. “I liked that too, to be honest… even if I knew deep down I had no chance, it was fun,” she confessed. It wasn’t what she had in mind, but it turned out to be something exciting. Maybe that was the fun with him, the tension. 

“Also, why do you act as if you hate the way I spoil you and treat you like a princess?” He said out of the blue. 

“I never said that,” she defended. “I want to spoil you too; two things can coexist.” 

Johnny rolled his eyes, giggling when she smacked his arm. “Fine, fine, you’re right, I guess we’ll come up with something to let you spoil me. Now, let me take on my role of the best boyfriend in the world,” he stopped, pretending to be overhearing, “good, nobody that screams they’re better,” he joked, and Jade laughed. 

“You’re so stupid,” she chuckled. “And Taeyong would disagree.” 

“All of them would, the only difference is,” he sighed, lifting her out of the water and placing her on the carpet, “Yuta and Jaehyun are too unbothered to start a fight.” 

Jade nodded, agreeing before watching in silence as Johnny wrapped a towel around them. 

“How does a burrito walk to the bed?” 

“Let’s find out,” he said before they started walking to the bed, dangling side to side until they slumped on it with a loud laugh

When Johnny rolled away, she followed with her gaze as he grabbed new underwear for them both and put his on before he reached her again, opening the towel and kneeling to slide the clean panties on her legs. 

“Come here, let me take care of you,” Johnny said, grabbing an ankle. 

“I can do this myself,” she replied, giggling, secretly loving being pampered that much, hiding it with a frown on her face. 

“I don’t care about your pouts, angel. You’re not in control tonight.” 

I hope you liked it, if you did let me know with comments, reblogs or even asks!

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[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 18: Sleep

It was the night of Antonio’s gift ceremony. Tensions were running high in the Madrigal household. All day, Pepa had endured snide little asides from various townspeople about how they hoped this gift ceremony wasn’t as bad as the last one. As if reminding her of her fear would help anything! Somehow, she resisted the urge to throttle that oblivious Osvaldo and instead focused on picking out fireworks for the celebration; something bright for her little boy so filled with brightness.

She had been running around all day, finishing up last minute things. It took longer than she thought since she hadn’t slept well the night before. Too many worries about what could go wrong today swarmed in her head to allow her to rest. To keep up her flagging energy, she snuck off to the kitchen for a cup of coffee after breakfast…and lunch. The cup she’d had with breakfast just wasn’t enough to stave off her exhaustion. Sure, her hands were trembling, but at least there was no way she’d fall asleep with how hard her heart was pounding.

Everyone was feeling the tension. All the Madrigals were doing their part to make sure tonight would go smoothly, but there was an undercurrent of unease running through the house. Stupid little things just kept going wrong. Isabela’s beautiful flowers wilted as soon as she hung them up. Luisa dropped the piano- the resulting discordant thud thrummed through the courtyard. Even Julieta had burned the arepas; something that hadn’t happened since they were children. Pepa guessed it was because they were feeling stressed too, but she couldn’t afford for anything else to go wrong.

Eventually, all the issues got resolved. A quick mist with some water perked the flowers right up. Julieta made more arepas, perfectly cooked this time. And the piano was fine where it was. They could just dance around it. The crises were fixed. Nothing else would go wrong tonight.

Her heart did a little pitter-patter when she saw Antonio enter the room. His cream suit fitted him perfectly despite his recent growth spurt, making him look very handsome and grown up. Ay, she couldn’t believe her last baby was growing up! It felt like only yesterday when she held him in her arms, rocking him to sleep. Now, he was preparing to receive his own Madrigal gift that would shape his life and allow him to contribute to the community.

She noticed with a wistful smile that he had some crumbs crusting around the corners of his lips. Licking her thumb, she used it to wipe off the crumbs. Maybe her little boy was still little after all.

The anxiety that she’d mostly managed to keep to a low hum crescendoed as the time for the ceremony finally arrived. Feeling overwhelmed, she watched with detached determination as he climbed up the stairs, his eyes darting nervously around the crowd. Her lips pressed together worriedly as he finally reached the top of the staircase. Would everything turn out well? Would he get his Madrigal gift, like the rest of his family members, save one? Or would he also be skipped over like Mirabel? Was it possible their family just wasn’t going to get gifts anymore? Had their blessings finally come to an end?

The questions bounced around her head frantically as he took the candle from his abuela. Her stomach twisted into knots, observing, horrorstricken, as the candle slid down through the grip of his sweaty palms, and Pepa knew. This was it. No more Madrigal gifts. For some reason, the tradition was over, and she didn’t even dare to look over at her mamá. Pepa already knew how disappointed she would be when Antonio tried opening his door and nothing happened. And then Antonio would look to her for guidance and comfort when she had none to give him. What could she possibly say to make it better?

The sheer terror she felt ripped her out of the dream. Her eyes bolted open and she gasped for breath. It was the middle of the night. Everything was pitch black and quiet. Félix slumbered soundly next to her.

He turned to his side, facing her, and reached out an arm towards her.

Impulsively, she grabbed his hand for comfort. It was big and warm, and she traced the lines in his palm to try and soothe herself.

Félix frowned in his sleep. “You awake, Pepi?” He murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Yeah,” she whispered, surprised she could say anything at all with how tight her throat felt.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

Another nightmare? No. Just the same nightmare she’d been having all week. Antonio’s ceremony was coming up in a few days, and the worries plaguing her had rolled in from the horizon like a terrible storm. “It’s nothing,” she deflected.

Félix fumbled around in the darkness, wrapping Pepa in a clumsy hug. “Go back to sleep,” he encouraged.

Wind whipped her hair against her face. She couldn’t blame him for not waking up. He’d been working so hard lately, and he slept like the dead to recover. Unlike him, she was a light sleeper, and bad dreams tended to wake her up. It had been like this since she was a kid. Pepa had accepted that she just wasn’t destined to get a good night’s sleep. But she hadn’t had the same recurring nightmare so many times in a row since before her wedding. The first time she’d had this nightmare, Félix had listened to her sweetly, but couldn’t understand why she was so worried.

“So what if Antonio doesn’t end up getting a gift?” he had asked. “Will we love him less? Hell no! And if we don’t see him any differently, why would it matter if anyone else does?”

Because mamá’s opinion haunted her like a specter her entire life, Pepa had thought to herself. She knew Félix wouldn’t understand. His parents, and her mamá, all adored him. Pepa’s relationship with her mamá was more…complicated. No matter how much she tried, Pepa never felt good enough for her. The best thing she had done in her mother’s eyes was marry Félix. It felt like that decision finally gained her approval. Of course, Pepa agreed with this assessment, but it also served as a painful reminder that her mother’s approval wasn’t so freely given. Félix didn’t understand what it felt like to jump through hoops to gain his parents’ favor, so he never understood why her mamá’s opinion mattered so much to her. He took for granted what he got so easily.

Sighing in frustration, she got out of bed. Having experienced many a sleepless night, she knew lying in bed and trying to fall back asleep would be pointless. She was far too anxious to try to sleep. Her body was flooded with energy, like a windup toy that someone had decided to wind way too many times. Sleep simply wasn’t possible with the thoughts screaming for her attention and the relentless pounding of her heart.

She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind herself quietly so as not to wake Félix. Moonlight bathed the hallway in a silvery glow, giving it an ethereal feel. For a moment, Pepa felt like she was wandering through her dreams. But the hallway was deserted, so silent that it threatened to swallow Pepa whole. She traipsed aimlessly up and down the hall, touching the doors of each of her children’s rooms lovingly, making sure to be extra quiet at Dolores’ room. Idly, she wondered if Dolores could hear the incessant beating of her heart, then shook the ridiculous thought away.

She did a few laps around the upper floor of casita, trying to burn off the nervous energy before she could work up the nerve to see Antonio. Her feet felt like lead as she trudged around, absolutely exhausted, but too keyed up to sleep.

Eventually, she dragged herself to the nursery. Its door was cracked open, allowing Pepa to peer inside. Antonio wasn’t in his bed like she expected him to be. Instead, he was curled up next to Mirabel, his wild curls barely peeking out over the blanket. The sight warmed Pepa’s heart. Those two loved each other so much, it was almost as if Mirabel was another big sister to Antonio.

Pepa smiled wanly. She was struggling to form coherent thoughts. The desperate need for sleep clouded over her mind. All she knew was, she found it comforting that Antonio had Mirabel. Even if he didn’t end up getting a gift, he wouldn’t be alone in his situation. He’d have a wonderful role model to help him through it.

And, Pepa thought with a yawn, she was so tired of caring about what her mamá would think. She was a grown woman with a husband and children, for crying out loud. If her mamá dared say anything bad about her kids, well…that wedding day hurricane would look like a light drizzle.

Satisfied with this thought, she went back to her bedroom. The abject terror she had been feeling had left her body. All she felt now was a deep tiredness that pulled her down into the mattress. She loved her family. Nothing else mattered. The thought finally lulled her to sleep.

[prairiesongserial]

23.7

It wasn’t that Val had wanted to stay on the first floor of the tower; he just hadn’t understood what was happening until Cassidy was halfway up the stairs with the princes and it was too late to protest. He still only had the most basic grasp on what Cassidy and the schoolchildren had been arguing about, but he knew he’d been volunteered to stay behind. Which was fine by Val–he still hadn’t gotten to rest since yesterday. Let John do all of the stair climbing and interacting with whatever a “floor master” was.

Dismayingly, there was nowhere to sit down or rest on the first floor landing. It was more of a lobby area, with the staircase that led up to the second floor landing and a hallway that led deeper into the tower. There was probably a kitchen somewhere back there, and a dining hall where the children could eat meals together. Bedrooms, too, unless each floor had its own set of dormitories. It all vaguely reminded Val of the convent, if the convent had been stacked into a vertical space rather than spread out over acres of land.

Several of the schoolchildren were still gathered at the second floor railing, blinking owlishly down at Val. Val understood–any excuse to abandon their studies was a good one, and strangers showing up to the tower was particularly interesting. He was beginning to get the idea that these children were cloistered like the novitiates in New Orleans were, but didn’t have the vocabulary to confirm it.

“I guess none of you speak English,” he said aloud, on the off-chance that any of the children did. He doubted it. None of them had spoken up to help translate since Val, John, and the princes had walked through the door.

The schoolchildren talked amongst themselves for a moment.

“Redstu yidish?” one of them returned.

Val sensed that his own question was being turned back on him. He understood a few words in Yiddish that he’d gleaned from Johannes, but nothing that felt especially useful right now. He shook his head.

“Daytsh?” The same voice asked.

Val shook his head again. He was beginning to understand Cassidy’s frustration with the fact that neither he nor John could speak any of the local languages.

The schoolchildren were murmuring amongst themselves, still. Some broke off from the group at the railing and disappeared beyond the bookshelves, apparently eager to get back to their studies. Or bored with the stranger who only spoke English. Maybe both, in some cases.

Val sat on a step at the bottom of the staircase, legs splayed out in front of him. He’d seen the commotion when John had tried to ascend to the second floor with Cassidy; he had no desire to cause another stir, or make the children think he intended to challenge the floor master. Instead, he tipped his head back and stared towards the ceiling, wondering to himself exactly how many floors the princes were going to have to walk up before they were allowed to plead their case for staying here. Hopefully Cassidy was breezing through the tests. They’d seemed to know what they were doing, in any case.

The lights in the tower were dim, mostly flickering oil lamps mounted to the walls. Still, Val closed his eyes against them and, without really meaning to, fell asleep.

*

Something nudged him in the ribs. Children were tittering and laughing very close to his ears. Val groaned–he was unsurprised to find his throat dry and scratchy from snoring–and opened his eyes.

There was a girl standing across from him. Older than the other children he’d seen so far; maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was dressed in an oversized sweater and dark pants, eating an apple, and regarding Val through half-lidded eyes as a stream of younger children flowed around and past him on the steps. Val stared back at her, still not entirely awake.

“Gutn morgn,” the girl said, deadpan. Val could guess what it meant, and felt horror begin to creep over him.

“Did I sleep here all night?” he asked. Then his memory caught up to him–she probably couldn’t understand what he’d asked. “Uh. Wait–”

The girl flapped a hand at him before he could say more. “No Yiddish. I know. You’ve been asleep for an hour, maybe.”

“You speak English?” Val asked.

“Best in my class,” the girl said. Her short hair was flat on one side and sticking straight up on the other, like she’d also been asleep and hadn’t had time to fix it. “The first-years wanted me to tell you that you’re in the way. And that it’s dinnertime.”

The children stampeding around him on the stairs suddenly made sense. They had mostly filed out by now, and Val took advantage of the regained personal space to slowly rise to his feet, using the bannister for balance. He winced as something in his spine popped, stomach arms wriggling against their hidden sheathe inside his shirt as pain radiated up his lower back. Evidently, he was getting too old to fall asleep sitting up.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. He probably needed to eat something, but he wouldn’t have felt right doing it without John and the princes.

“Yes, you are,” the girl said, and threw an apple at him. Val fumbled it, still somewhat bleary, but still managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

“Okay,” he said. He knew better than to argue with a teenage girl. “Thank you. For the apple.”

She flapped her hand at him again. “I’m Alte. You are?”

“Valerie.” Val took a bite of the apple, and swallowed. It was good. “Val is fine.”

Alte mirrored Val, taking another bite of her own apple, then asked, “Where are you from?”

“New Orleans,” he said. “That’s in America. I grew up in a convent.”

Alte nodded sagely. “Goyische.”

“I know that one,” Val said. He’d heard the Madsen and Graves brothers sling the term around; the context was more obvious in hindsight. Alte raised her eyebrows at him in a silent invitation to continue, so he did. “My–someone I traveled with spoke Yiddish. With his family. He didn’t teach me any, but I picked up a few things like that.”

Another nod from Alte. She was leaning sideways against the wall and staring at him again, sizing him up.

“What happened to your neck?” she asked.

Val’s fingers flew to the bandage in spite of himself. It was peeling; he checked to make sure all the younger kids had gone before he unstuck the bandage the rest of the way to show Alte the healing bite wound. She made a face.

“Someone bit you?”

“On the boat, after we left America,” Val said. He really didn’t feel like explaining the Demeter twice in one day.

Luckily, Alte didn’t seem to care for much more explanation than that. She turned on her heel and gestured for Val to come along with her, only pausing long enough to make sure he’d actually begun to walk before she started off down one of the first floor hallways. She was fast, but Val had the advantage of much longer legs, and kept pace with her easily.

“You’ll come up with me,” she said. “To the tenth years’ floor. We have bandages, and better places to sleep than the stairs. And the first years will leave you alone.”

“I thought you had to take tests to get up and down the floors,” Val said. He still wasn’t entirely clear on that part.

Alte gave him a bemused look. “That’s why I’m sneaking you up the back staircase. You thought we only had one set of stairs?”

Val shrugged back at her. He hadn’t given much thought to the layout of the tower, but a second staircase did make sense now that she mentioned it. With this many students in one place, you’d probably need more than one way to get up and down the tower.

“But you’ll probably have to answer questions anyway,” she added. “Everyone’s still studying. They’re going to use you to practice English and philosophy.”

“I was a priest,” he said flatly. “I’m used to it.”

“Was?” Alte asked, glancing sideways at him. Now it was Val’s turn to flap a hand dismissively at her, as they turned the corner and found themselves at the foot of a stone staircase that spiraled up and out of sight onto higher floors.

“Ask me when we get to the top,” he said, then amended, “if I make it there.”

He hadn’t thought until just now about how much climbing ten floors’ worth of stairs was. It would be a miracle if he made it to five without collapsing.

Alte broke into a grin. “You’ll be fine.”

Val sighed. “Well, no reward without pain.”

“What a Catholic thing to say,” Alte replied, in what Val was beginning to understand as her usual wry manner, and started up the stairs.

Val started to protest, thought better of it, and began his ascent behind her.

23.6 || 23.8

[tails89]

Run into trouble

911 - 1.4k - G

Written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo: doesn't realise they've been injured.

"This— firefighting— it's just something that I'm meant to do, same as you," Eddie says, without any hesitation. "Plus, Hen and Chimney are pretty damn good at their jobs. They've patched you up enough times."

"Too many times," Buck groans. "They're never going to let me live this down."

Read on ao3

"Holy shit that was close." Buck climbs to his feet and brushes off his jacket, his fingers catching in a tear in the thick material. "Maybe, uh— just a bit too close." He grins, turning to Eddie. "You good?"

"Am I good?" Buck can hear the disbelief in Eddie's voice. "I'm not the one who was just sent flying. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, barely got me." Buck almost can't believe it himself, but other than getting the wind knocked out of him, he's fine. 

"Only you," Eddie says with a shake of his head, and Buck catches the fond eye roll beneath the mask. 

He can't help the quick smile as he keys at his radio. "Hey Cap. We're on the second floor, where do you want us?"

"We've got reports of people trapped on the delta side."

"Copy that, Cap." Buck gestures for Eddie to lead the way. 

They work together to clear each apartment as smoke pours into the corridor, and Buck can't believe how much he missed this— working with Eddie. 

They move from door to door, calling out as they go. The heat from the floor above is intense, pushing back against them with every step. Buck can feel the sweat pouring down his side as he pounds on the door. 

"LAFD! Anyone in there?" 

"Yes! Oh my god, help!" 

They find who they're looking for in the next apartment— two young women with ash-streaked faces. 

"Are either of you hurt?" Eddie asks, going straight into medic mode while Buck radios Bobby to let him know they've found them. 

"I'm going to check the last apartment," Buck tells Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder as he brushes past. 

"Be careful." 

"Always am." That earns him a scoff from Eddie as Buck ducks back out into the hallway. 

The last apartment is empty, so Buck heads back to join Eddie and the two women, breathing heavily as he returns to their apartment. 

"Okay, the floor's clear," he tells Eddie, still panting as he catches his breath. "You ready to get out of here?"

"God, yes," the blonde woman says nodding. "Can we please get out of here?" 

Eddie chuckles and turns to Buck. "Yeah, we're ready. Let's go."

They head back out into the hall with the two women in tow. Eddie takes the lead, guiding them over towards the fire stairs, and Buck takes the rear, making sure no one gets left behind. 

They're just reaching the first floor when Bobby radios the order to evacuate the building. 

"Firefighters Buckley and Diaz, we're clear," Buck responds as they step out into the parking lot. 

They usher the women away from the building and over to the gathering crowd of emergency personnel.

 

"So?" Buck bumps his shoulder into Eddie's as they make their way over to the rest of the 118. "Does it feel good to be back?" He pulls his helmet and mask off, turning to glance at Eddie. 

"Yeah." Eddie has his own helmet in his hands. "I can't believe how much I missed this. Missed us."

"You say that like the two of you haven't seen each other in months," Chimney says, falling into step beside them. "When I know for a fact that Buck was over at your house yesterday."

"It's different," Buck argues, glad they have then flashing red and blue lights to hide his flushing face. 

"How?" Chimney asks, coming to a stop. 

Buck shares a glance with Eddie.

"It just is."

"Sure," Chim says, dragging the word out. "I'm just glad that Buck has stopped moping around the station. It was getting sad."

"Hey." Buck goes to take a step forward but stumbles, suddenly light-headed.

"Woah, you okay there?" Chimney asks, clapping a hand on Buck's shoulder.

"Yeah, I—"

His legs buckle as a wave of dizziness crashes over him. 

There are twin shouts from nearby, and hands catch him before he can hit the ground. 

"Hen! Cap!" Chim calls, helping Buck to sit. "Need you guys over here."

Eddie kneels on Buck's left, his hands tugging at Buck's jacket.

"You said you were okay!"

"And you believed him?" Hen scoffs, kneeling on Buck's other side to help him out of his heavy turnout coat. 

"In my defense," Buck says weakly, shutting his eyes at the sudden sharp flare of pain. "I really did think I was okay. I didn't even feel anything."

The jacket gets tossed to the side and a hand on his shoulder pushes him back to lie flat. 

"That was probably the adrenaline," Chim tells him.  "What about now? Any pain?"

"'s kinda numb," Buck mumbles, blinking up at the worried faces above him. 

The scissors are cold against his skin as his shirt is cut away, and somewhere above him there's a hiss as his chest is revealed. 

"You really didn't feel this?" Hen asks, her hands prodding at the bruised skin along Buck's side.

He sucks in a harsh breath.

"Can feel it now," he mutters, eyes screwed up as Hen continues to work. 

"Yeah, I'm not surprised,"Hen says, sitting back on her heels. "He's bleeding internally. Chimney, can you start a line?"

"On it." There's a pinch in the back of Buck's hand, but it's nothing compared to the fire in his side.

"What can I do?" Eddie asks.

"You just keep doing what you're doing."

"What's he doing?" Buck mumbles. 

There's a warm pressure on his hand, like someones squeezing it. 

"This." 

"Oh." Buck squeezes back. "Yeah, keep doing that."

"Bobby, can you radio the hospital?" Hen asks. "Let them know we're on our way?"

Buck lets her voice wash around him, letting it all fade into the background. 

"Hey, eyes open." Fingers tap at the side of his face, and Buck glares up at Eddie. "You know the drill, Buck."

"'m awake."

"Good. Let's keep it that way," Eddie tells him. "Tell me about the zoo last weekend. Chris said that one of tigers had cubs."

"Mm, twins—"

His body feels so heavy. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and drift away.

"His BP's dropping," Hen says, her voice little more than white noise. "We need to get moving."

And then there's nothing.

"You know, I didn't come back to work just to watch you get hurt again."

Buck drifts, letting the sound of Eddie's voice wash over him.

"I should have noticed. I should have known something was wrong."

Someone— Eddie?— is holding his hand, rubbing circles into the skin above above his wrist.

"You could have died and I— I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"It wasn't your fault."

The hand on his disappears and Buck immediately mourns the loss.

"Buck, I—"

"It wasn't your fault," he repeats, shifting to look at Eddie. "And I didn't even realise— I would have said something, I swear."

"Yeah, I know." Eddie leans forward in his chair. "You scared me though. Scared all of us."

"I'm sorry. I—"

"Don't." Eddie cuts him off. "Don't apologise. It's— one of the hazards of the job."

"Yeah. Are you sure you're okay with that?" Buck watches Eddie's face for any sign of indecision, but all he sees is determination. 

He wouldn't blame Eddie for having second thoughts about returning. He's been back less than a week and Buck's already proving all his fears to be true. 

"This— firefighting— it's just something that I'm meant to do, same as you," Eddie says, without any hesitation. "Plus, Hen and Chimney are pretty damn good at their jobs. They've patched you up enough times."

"Too many times," Buck groans. "They're never going to let me live this down."

"Yeah, it's up there." Eddie grins. "Just promise me it won't happen again, and I'll promise not to take their side when the teasing starts."

"I thought you'd always have my back," Buck complains, setting back against the pillows. 

"Always," Eddie tells him before his smile turns sly. "Well, mostly," he teases and Buck sighs. "I'll make it up to you though. If you want I can ask Carla to drop Chris over later."

"I like him better than you," Buck mutters, but he's grinning, even as the drugs threaten to pull him back under.

"Uh huh." Eddie nods, still teasing. "How about you go back to sleep. We'll be here when you wake up."

Buck doesn't argue. He's not sure he can when his eyelids are already too heavy to keep open.

As sleep pulls him under he feels Eddie's hand slip around his once more. 

[the-berf]

To my absolute surprise, the friends with BDSM benefits fic has turned into a bit of a monster (so many kinks to try, so much learning to do, so many awkward situations to laugh off/talk through). So while that's brewing away, have some Carmy suffering. Dedicated to @trickstermoose67 who is a well of inspiration and patience. And to another very very dear friend who (probably) does not yet know this blog is run by a fool they know.

Yet They Came

All the shouting, arguing and stress was exhausting. Stuck in the fridge, Carmy sank to the ground. He'd chased everyone away, Richie was right, he was just like his mother. Claire was gone, he'd abandoned Syd when he promised he wouldn't, everyone heard his not so little meltdown so probably half the kitchen staff will never return. Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his lip. After everything, he'd still fucked up. Syd had been right, he was a piece of shit.

There was the sound of some powertool or other but Carmy was only distantly aware of it. A hollow emptiness ate away at him, it weighed him so far down that he was almost weightless. Sparks were flashing through the crack of the door and while his eyes followed them, Carmy's brain was loud static. Maybe he should have been left in the fridge, let the rest of his body be as cold as his heart. It wasn't like The Bear needed him, not really. They had proven that in the space of one night.

The flashes were getting brighter and more frequent with sparks which burned out, so much like Carmy himself. His time to shine had been brief and he'd snuffed it out before anything could truly come of it. More sparks, there was a glow emanating from the lock. With a final clunk there was a bright flash and Carmy jerked back with rapid blinks, momentarily blinded by whatever the tool was.

Mind snapping back into his body, Carmy rose on creaky knees. He didn't want to think about how much it was going to cost to get the fridge door replaced. He didn't want to think about coming back the next day and looking the remaining staff in the eye. He didn't want to think about anything at all.

As expected, nobody was waiting from him on the other side except for the guy who freed him. He'd send an invoice and Carmy would settle the bill then. Watching him walk out, Carmy was left alone in the spotless kitchen. There was nothing left to do. They got it all done without him. Rather than anger at his own restaurant not needing him, Carmy felt a resigned acceptance. Deep down, he'd always known he wasn't needed by anyone or anything. But it would have been nice to be. Turning the lights off, he headed home.

The next day Marcus opened up as usual. But Carmy wasn't in at his usual time. Instead the others filtered in. Tina, Syd, Ebra, Sweeps, Richie. One by one they came and settled into the routine of morning prep. Nobody said anything about Carmy's absence even as they kept looking around.

As the lunch rush started kicking off, Nat came in looking flustered. She looked around the kitchen, stuck her head in the office then returned to the expo.

"Where is he?"

"We assumed he's taken a day off," Syd replied between calls. "Yesterday was pretty shit for him."

"He's not replying to texts. He's not here. So where the fuck is my brother?"

"Hey, Sug." Richie's voice had a soothing edge to it. "He's probably just feeling sorry for himself. Why don't I try and call him, have a bit of a man-to-man chat, yeah?"

Despite his words he looked a little wide eyed. Memories of Mikey still too fresh in their hearts. As the phone rang and rang without an answer, Richie bounced a little. Once the voicemail kicked in, he hung up. "Or we could just go to his place. He owes us all an apology."

Though not running, there was no denying the rush in their movements. Nat drove while Richie fiddled with the sleeve of his suit; he had half a mind to really rip into Carmy after all the shit he'd pulled the previous night.

Climbing the stairs, panic was taking over. By the time they got to the door, Richie banged with a closed fist.

"Open up, cousin!" He called loudly and banged on the door again.

The angry "what?" was both a relief to hear but also infuriating. If Carmy thought that kind of behaviour was okay, he had another think coming.

"At least he's not dead," Richie joked and Nat glared at him. "Sorry, too soon."

"Dick." Nat knocked a little more gently on the door. "Carmen, let us in please."

Noises from within the flat suggested Carmy was approaching the door at a slow shuffle, the odd bump and thump accompanied by a grunt. Through the closed door he growled "the fuck you want? Another round?"

"Carm, we were worried you hadn't come to work."

"Don't need to. I'm the boss."

"You're a little bitch," Riche snapped. His patience had worn thin. "Shouldn't have bothered coming to check on you. I was right, you're just like Donna."

The door wrenched open as Carmy near enough snarled. "Want to say that to my face?"

Except the desired effect was not reached. Sugar gasped as she stepped back, a hand over her mouth while Richie coughed out a laugh of disbelief. Standing in the doorway, Carmy was in ratty sleepwear which was fine. What wasn't fine was the blood smeared up his arm, across his forehead and in his hair where he'd obviously passed a hand through it. Even worse, his eyes were puffy and blinking rapidly where he squinted, except he was looking past them, not focused and gaze nowhere near either Nat or Richie.

"Carmy?" Nat reached out with shaking hands. It was only when she touched his arm that Carmy flinched, near enough violently and the hand that had been holding the door came into view. A badly wrapped dishcloth soaked in blood drew all attention. "What happened?"

"Nothing." A hand with blood crusted under his nails swiped at his face as Carmy tried to rub at his eyes before remembering he shouldn't. The long blinks and stare fixed vaguely on Richie's throat wasn't exactly encouraging.

Taking initiative, Richie raised a hand and waggled his fingers. There was no response. Flipping Carmy off had no effect either. Nor did doing the Macarena. Well, that one had Sugar looking at him like he was an insensitive asshole which...yeah, he was. As a last resort, Richie drew a hand back as if gearing up to slap Carmy. He stopped inches from his face and Carmy looked in the vague direction with a frown but didn't comment.

Nat cleared her throat. "Carmy, I'm coming in whether you like it or not. I need a drink of water."

Stepping aside, Carmy gestured vaguely towards the inside of his flat. "Help yourself. Just mind the remains of the coffee table."

Walking in on Nat's heels, Richie stuck his tongue out and scowled when Carmy didn't even look in his direction. But his attention was drawn to the coffee table, or rather, what was left of it. The glass top was shattered, most of the glass seemed to have been pushed to one side, there was a wet stain on the ground in the vague vicinity of the blood stain. Turning, Nat watched as Carmy stood near the closed door, not moving. She walked up to him, watching him blink rapidly as if just keeping his eyes open was agony.

"Carmy?" It made Carmy jump, he'd not realised Nat was so close. "What's going on? And don't say nothing."

The walls Carmy had been trying to hold up came crumbling down. His breathing turned rapid and shallow, hand running through his hair as he blinked away tears.

"I don't know. I don't fucking know!" Unmoored, he looked so lost until Nat wrapped him up in a tentative hug. All but folding into her, Carmy let out a small sob. "I can't fucking see. You shouldn't be here."

Gently, Nat rocked them, glancing over her shoulder at Richie for any kind of help. None was coming, neither of them were truly equipped to deal with such a thing. "I'm here because I want to be. Now, I'm going to lead you back to bed because I don't want you cutting your feet on the glass. Richie can help clear that up, can't you?"

As much as Richie wanted to protest, he nodded. Rather the broken glass and blood stains than a broken Carmy. Still, he kept an ear on the bedroom where Nat helped Carmy sit on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me what happened since last night."

Haltingly, Carmy began. Getting out of the fridge, his vision carrying the sparks from whatever tool he'd been set free with. Sleep coming for him eventually but he woke up to a headache in what he thought was the middle of the night. Except he couldn't see the streetlights, the TV was nothing more that a painful blur when he'd turned it on. The realisation that he couldn't see compounded by being so utterly alone. Even if he'd wanted to, his phone was impossible to use without being able to see it. Trying to find it, he'd tripped over the table, crashed through it and broke the glass. Knowing that nobody was coming, Carmy had tried to clean up as best he could, had no clue whether he'd succeeded or not.

"So what were you going to do?" Sugar asked softly. "If you thought nobody was coming, what did you think would happen?"

Carmy shrugged, twisting the bloodied dishcloth between uninjured fingers. "I don't know. It's not like The Bear needs me. You, Richie and Syd proved that last night. I just-" he trailed off with a hard sniff, "-thought you'd all forget about me and keep the place going."

The pained "Bear" from Nat was somewhat echoed by Richie as he barged into the room with a declaration of, "You're kind of impossible to forget, idiot. Now, did you say you stared at the pretty sparks and lights last night?"

Resigned to his not-to-be-forgotten fate, Carmy nodded and closed his eyes. They burned, felt like sand coated his eyelids, in short it was pain he couldn't really deal with. It was why he'd thrown his phone across the room, not when he realised he couldn't call someone but when he thought there was nobody that he could call. Yet Nat and Richie came anyway. Relief and guilt coursed through him but they seemed adamant in looking after him. Caving in, Carmy guiltily allowed the other two to take control of the situation. By the end of the evening he was on Richie's couch, eyes much less painful after being prescribed some drops and the reassurance that he'll be fine within a day or two.

Sure enough, the next day Carmy walked into The Bear, shoulders hunched as he braced for what was to come. He had a lot of apologies to issue.

[awrldalone]

9th January 2022, 4.17pm

The year starts today for me. I said so before it begun for everybody else, it was not a last minute decision to extend the old year. If anything, I decided to skip a few songs, press forward for a few days. I did some things, which I will eventually talk about, one of these days, but I have to admit that unraveling this ball of yarn all at once and knitting it into a piece of writing is hard. There are too many knots and I am not an expert knitter. I barely own a metal hook, and even then, I left it at my place in Maastricht, and I am not there yet.

And so 2023 starts today. I have some goals, like usual, and from here I can only go up. A few days ago I was telling M. that mentally I am in a similar position to early and mid 2021, when I was at my worst. Except this time I hold the torch of memory and I am trying to do better, even though I feel just as lost in this darkness. Light is of little use in pitch black nothingness. Yesterday night I cut for the first time in four months. I did not bleed as much as I expected, or would have liked, I think my legs were not fully healed yet, and today I felt them weak while waiting in line to board the plane. I will not do it again. If not for myself, for the fact that cuts are not nice to see, no one likes a wounded dog, and even when hunting one always tries to hit the rabbit in the eye to kill it, not in the tender meat.

And so 2023 starts today, at the bottom of everything but so high up in the air.

I realized I need to be busier, more mechanical, with less time, because forcing myself to have a routine will perhaps make existing easier.

Tomorrow I will wake up at six, and my morning will look like this:

6AM — The alarm on my phone will ring. I will leave my phone to charge not next to my bed, but underneath it, because I find that the hardest part about waking up is not opening the eyes but getting out of bed, and given that my bed is situated on top of my desk, like a bunk bed for one, I need to force myself to climb down the stairs.

until 7AM — I will jump the rope a thousand times. I bought a new one with my sister. It’s light and thin, when it hits your leg it hurts like a bitch. I like that I can swing it very fast and make it go around my body two or three times in a single jump. I will also do one hundred push ups. I can do twenty five in a row, for four times. I can also do fifty, twice, but I tend to move sloppily down the end, so I would rather stop earlier and push my body up properly. All of this will not take me an hour, but half an hour at most. For the remaining time, I will wash myself up, dry my hair, put on clothes.

8AM — This year, like every year, I want to read one hundred books. In 2022 I read ninety-something, but this time I will reach my goal, mostly because reading is one of the reason I have not fully given up on life yet. I tend not to escape in books, but I do like learning. Ever since high-school ended, I do not study fifteen things at once, and I miss the variety. Obviously, I still love fiction, up until a few moments ago I was reading Life For Sale by Yukio Mishima. The point of all of this is I want to read for an hour. It’s something I like, something that makes me somewhat happy, and something that will make me feel richer. One of the goals of this year is to become rich with knowledge and experience.

Then the day can start at nine. If needed, I will have to sacrifice the reading, or delay it until the night time, but for this month it should not be a problem, as all my classes start late, between eleven and one p.m.

At night, I also want to reserve some time to specific activities.

8PM — A whole hour to cook and eat. I like spending time with V., and usually when we dine together we end up talking until late, so I will be more lenient with what I do at night than what I do in the morning.

9PM — Poetry. Stories. Essays. Maybe even a book. A whole hour to force myself to produce even the ugliest of verses. I have a few poems I am working in, so I will be busy for a few days. When uninspired: painting. I want to learn how to go beyond the basic techniques I know.

11PM — Bedtime. Seven hours is plenty of sleep for me.

Obviously, these strict schedules are nothing but an outline. I need to study, prepare for class, I want to go to the gym three to four times a week, and I want to hang out with my friends. I feel better when I leave the house, or when people come at my place. Therefore, all these rigid rules will be flexible.

My father called me the most strict and obsessive person he knows the other day. He also calls me hysterical sometimes. I wonder how the two can co-exist. I wonder how I can be hysterical when I do not even have an uterus. Whatever. Such a rough words for a disease that doesn’t exist. Whatever. I wonder if he doesn’t know many people, or if he doesn’t know me. The point is - I will be flexible. I always have been. With myself less than with others, but I am still learning.

This year, in fact, I want to learn. Like every year, obviously. But this year I want to learn, or rather discover, what will be of me. I would be lying if I said I have not thought about the future a lot lately: where will I be in September? I was about to type “where will I find myself”, but I decided not to phrase it that way because I will not find myself anywhere, but rather I will go somewhere actively. I am a ship without a compass, but I will learn how to read the stars and find my way.

I want to learn how to cook good and healthy food, I want to learn pottery, I want to learn good French, I want to learn about art and fashion and philosophy. I want to learn how to sew and make clothes.

I also want to act with a sense of aim. As I have already said on my birthday, 19, and therefore 2023 as a whole, is the year of reaping the fruits, tasting the apples and low-hanging peaches: I have worked under the scorching sun and the freezing rain for a year, and I will continue to do so for my whole life, but from now on I want my fields to yield a good harvest.

This harvest can come in all forms. The one I wish for the most is publishing what I write. I did it once, I can do it again.

I want to feel fulfilled, full of life.

-c.

[mellowpiepizzalamp]

Bookstore AU

Summary: Bucky’s looking for some old books, but he finds way more than that.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, my rubbish writing (it’s a warning)

Word count: ~1500 words

The little bell by the door rang as the door opened to the bookstore. 

“Hello,” a voice called from up above but Bucky didn’t notice and looked around before looking up and seeing a woman standing on a sliding ladder by the high bookshelves. 

“Hello, how are you,?” he asked awkwardly. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that seeing as I’m the salesman? But I’m fine, how are you?” They laughed at the dry joke as she climbed down. 

She slipped on the last one due to the water on it because the weather wasn’t pleasant outside. Bucky caught her by her arm, she only then noticed he was drenched. 

“Sorry,” he apologized and letting his strong grip loosen as he steadied her. 

“No, no, don’t apologize. Can I help you find anything?” she asked as she put a book she was holding down and brushed her jeans clean. 

“Yeah uhm, I was wondering if you had any old books?” he said, more in an asking tone. 

“As in physically old or that the writing is old, the writer is old,” she tried to explain. She thought it was a hazy explanation, but he understood just fine. 

“No the writing is old,” he said with a kind smile. 

“Yeah I have those. If we go up there I have a rack full of before 20th century if you’re interested.” He nodded and they climbed the stairs on the left and walked up to a hidden section, not hidden but around a corner behind a wall. 

“You can take off your jacket to let it dry on that chair,” she said and pointed at a desk opposite the book cases. She started explaining about many books and handed him a few too. At a given moment the books were stacked to under his chin when she grabbed the last one. 

“This one is one of my favourites, my mother read it to me when I was little,” she said and smiled at the book. 

“Oh Jesus, d’you need me to carry anything?” she asked with a frown because only Bucky’s head was visible above the books. 

“No it’s alright,” he smiled. She stood on her tip toes to look at him as she was significantly smaller than him. 

“Okay, you can put them down on the desk, to look which ones you want to read and which not. That’s what I like to do,” she suggested and smiled at him. 

“Thank you, can you maybe help me with that too? If you’re not buzzy,” he asked softly. 

“Yeah of course, I’ll have to get my co-worker from his break if you don’t mind, I’ll be back in a moment,” she smiled. He nodded and before he knew it she was back by hid side in no time. Of the twenty books they had before they sorted out five books that he wanted and one she would save for him for next time. 

“Oh wait a minute, I have another you’ll know, just wait here,” she said and ran to the back. “I found this one yesterday, do you know it?” she asked. 

“Yes.” his voice was hoarse at once as a lump formed in his throat. He stared at the book in his hands, the title of the hobbit staring at him. 

“Steve gave me a copy when we were 20 and it just came out. It was my favourite, before it all happened,” he said, referring to the train accident. 

“I know,” she said softly. 

“What do you mean?” he asked confused. 

“I read everything about you, I recognized you as soon as you walked in but didn’t mention it as I thought you might wanted to be treated as a normal person, I know I’d want to,” she explained. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“My pleasure,” she smiled. They checked out the six books and said their goodbyes. She kept staring at the door until Thomas cleared his throat behind her. 

“Do I even need to ask?”  he said. 

“I can’t believe it, they we wrong about him,” she said, looking at the ground, “He is nothing like they said, he so kind, gentle, soft, considerate, understanding and so much more,” she sighed.

***

Three weeks later Bucky walked through the door again. “Hey you’re back! I’ll go and get y/n, yeah?” Bucky nodded before pretending to scan the shelves for a book he might wanted to read while waiting for her. 

“Hello, did you like the books?” she straight up asked when she saw him like they’d known each other for years. 

“Yes I did actually. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner but I had a mission,” he explained while fumbling with the spine of a book. 

“No, no it’s okay. But did you get the chance to read them, if you were on a mission?” she asked softly. 

“Yes because we’re not always working on the case and I finished two and a half books while being on that mission. I loved reading the books,” he said softly. “I wanted to thank you for them and I wondered if you have more,” he smiled. He left with four books three hours later and the blessed feeling he had three weeks ago too. 

This went on to become a ritual, every Wednesday he could he would stop by to buy at least one book, but usually leaving with three. He was reading all his old favourites, her favourites and even some newer books. 

His bookshelf was rapidly filling and next week he’d need to build a new one because the current one was bending in all the wrong ways. Before he entered he waved at her through the store window and then entered. He saw her sliding down the banister, a trick he taught her two weeks ago.

“Bucky come here! We got special editions of the hobbit! It’s hardcover, with a dust cover, map, and even drawings of the characters, look!” She’d grabbed his wrist, sending the unknown butterflies in his tummy flying, and dragged him to the back room that was filled with boxes filled with books. 

She stared at one of the bottom boxes before attempting to lift the ones on top one by one. The first one wasn’t fully filled and she put it away with ease but the second one was another story. 

“Let me help,” Bucky said and moved the boxes without effort. 

“This one right?” he asked and picked up the box and brought it over to the table. 

“Yess,” she opened it and got out a copy, handing it to him. She could see his mind was blown as he admired the new dark blue and gold cover with elegant swirls and letters. 

“Wait a minute, you can paint pages now?” he asked, flabbergasted. 

“I know!” she said excitedly while jumping up and down. 

“This is awesome,” he said. 

“Take it, it’s yours. I’ll stack the shelves with these later,” she said and got him to look her in the eye. 

“Alright, mind if I put at the checkout already? We can look at a few others?” he asked. How could she say no to those eyes, not like she was going to. 

“Yes of course, let’s go,” she smiled. When they were done they walked downstairs again. 

“Can I go to the bathroom here?” he asked. 

“Yes of course, the door around the corner of that case,” she pointed. She quickly scanned the books and didn’t doubt for a second to slip the limited edition book in the bag before pulling it out and wrapping it in wrapping paper. She put on a ribbon on it and wrote a small note she put with the ribbon.

When I found this book, it made me think of you, Because it’s special like you. I was hoping we could see each other outside of the store, either as friends or more, like a date, just let me know. I just hope you’ll take this as my present for giving me a good time ever since you walked in our store. ~ y/n

He only saw the wrapped book with a note when he was adding the three books on his nightstand to read and saw the last one was wrapped. 

He was in his room at the compound after getting new socks. He sat down on his bed and opened the note. As he read it his smile widened and quickly unwrapped the book. He let out a laugh of relief and started out the door. Knowing only Steve was there he yelled through the hallways. 

“Steve!” he said and flung himself at the man as he looked away from his punching bag. 

“Alright bud, what’s up?” Steve laughed. Bucky showed him the book and note proudly, even the wrapping paper. 

“She told me that was her favourite wrapping paper they had and didn’t use it very often,” he said. 

“The fact you remembered that tells me you have it bad.” 

“Yeah, maybe I do.”

***

part two?

[beckywarrencornwall2023]

FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 2023 — CARDIFF, WALES. A much better day than yesterday.

After having breakfast at our wacky hotel, we set out on foot for Cardiff's Morgan Quarter shopping area and Cardiff Castle. The day was sunny and cool, and the walk felt good after being in the car all day yesterday.

When we reached the Morgan Quarter, both of us felt like, "O-KAY!" There were shops and restaurants and pubs, and people happy to be out and about in the sunshine. Such a nice change from our shabby hotel and its run-down neighborhood. We walked up and down streets, and through alleyways lined with unique little shops. But Becky wisely suggested that maybe we should visit the castle before loading ourselves down with purchases. (I had no intention of loading myself down with stuff, but I did see the wisdom in her suggestion.)

Cardiff Castle is spectacular! It was originally built by the Normans in the 11th century. That's even older than me! Upon entering the castle grounds, we walked to the center, crossed the moat, and climbed the steep stairs to the keep, a defensive stone enclosure used for protection in times of attack. After that, we walked through the main castle building, which served as the residence for the big shots who owned the place. It was amazing! Filled with carvings and gold ceilings and an incredible library. As you can see above, I took lots of pictures. There's a limit to how many I can show here. But if you want to see more, invite me to your house for BBQ, and I'll show you a few hour's worth.

After the castle, our poor feet were tired from walking. So we decided to take a break at a nearby pub, The Queen's Vaults. Most of the customers were locals. There was a cricket match on the telly. And a pint of local ale really hit the spot. This was the perfect place to take a break.

Then we headed back to the shops. We took our time wandering here and there, buying souvenirs and gifts for friends and family back home. (Sorry, I didn't get anything for you.) After a while, we decided to get an early supper before heading back to the hotel. We found a wonderful Portuguese restaurant called Ty Madeira. Becky was finally able to enjoy a well-made drink (a watermelon Cosmo) and the lobster she had been craving since our arrival nearly a week ago. The food and service were amazing. And there was a glass case showing the meat and fish and other ingredients they use in creating the meals they serve. Again as my mom would say, "It looked just like a picture."

After our meal, our weary bones were too tired to walk back to the hotel, so we took a cab. When we got to our room, we both felt like washing up after a long day. But our hotel had other plans. We had no hot water, and two faucet handles came off in our hands.

But it's okay. We are now safe and cozy in our room. Tomorrow we will leave Cardiff and drive north into rural Wales for another new experience.

It's been a good day.

(Remember, you can click on the photos to make them bigger.)

[saphena-magna]

Swear it's the best that I ever had. And I think that I got it bad. I could wait for a call back, so long, enough for you to play those songs a million times.

Walking home I meet us in many different places. First it’s outside the church, awkwardly dressed in a quilt jacket far too warm for late July. Jumping into your arms, sliding mine down your back transitioning into intertwined fingers. Side by side until you let go and I see myself a couple of blocks away, pacing back and forth in a wide space in front of a closed gate, a few houses next to where we had a birthday party and you didn’t come (you didn’t want to come). I’m crying like an elder daughter, desperately trying to poise myself, my mother on the phone. Always taking your side, always have taken the boys' side, until I say that I feel as if I don’t exist, you slowly slipping away, begging for you to even acknowledge me. She changes her mind. ”Of course, sweetheart. You can’t be with someone who won’t see the fantastic things about you. Maybe he just got worried, knowing he can’t keep up with all of that?”

I keep walking. Religiously stalking your last-listened-to, looking for a message within the lyrics, the general themes, until I realize that maybe they’re about your ex. I’m terrified of finding out who she is because regardless of race (also from a Balkan country? Maybe Asian? Maybe an Elin?) or height (like you? A head below me?) or worst of all, body type (curvier? Skinny? Muscular? Soft?) it will crush me. I already know she’s my opposite and I know what it means. I’ve walked downhill to the ledge where you climbed straight up, back muscles ripping through your dumb navy blue t-shirt, a real life spider man in front of a bootleg child-like Mary Jane in awe. I gave it a go. You pulled me up, and at the top, you pulled me in, and kissed me. In my memory you forbade me to ever do that again because you could not live with even the idea of me getting hurt. I shiver at the sight. It’s a ball drop from my chest sinking down my stomach. It’s a gravitational force. Yesterday, the same route home from the same job where we met, where I thought there was no chance I have to keep away I bet he breaks five hearts at once in any given second walking around looking like that anyway he’s probably really shallow and stupid and vapid with terrible manners and - then you bought me ice cream. And then you wrote down my list of red flags ”just to be sure, they might come in handy”. Then you brought me a jacket when I said I was cold. Then you pulled out my chair. Then you pinned me up against the back of the staff room door, the only place without camera surveillance. Then, there was no going back. Anyway - at the same ledge I had to stop in my track because contrary to the expected course of events the knife stabs are getting deeper, neither fewer nor less well-aimed. Only forceful nostalgia at work these days, with the former anger having left me without shield from it.

Over the bridge unto the built-in steps where I listened to Tove Lo so loud my ears hurt. I remember thinking ”this might be the last time I am walking home to him” and as if the thought was a hive of summer flies I hurried down the stairs as if to dismiss the realization of that I was… yeah. That’s the thing. What was I really doing? I convinced myself I was breaking up with you but it was all very meta in the sense that I knew I was convincing myself that, i.e. that it wasn’t true, I was just telling myself that so that I could survive it, because I thought I knew that the reality of it all was that you were leaving me and I was just in a hurry trying to mold reality into a scenario quickly, quickly, that I could live with. A scenario in which I didn’t have to realize I was the rebound, I was the ugly girl who was dumb and ridiculous enough to ever have thought I had a chance, I was the one fooled and ripped off and laughed at.

I hurry down the steps tonight one more time, like I will be doing a hundred times again, but never again to you leaning against my door frame with your bent smile and bangs falling down before your eyes meeting mine when I finally arrive.

[rawiswhore]

Rob Van Dam x Fem Reader- "Wiggle"

I apologize as to why I didn't post a fanfic yesterday, it was because this week is the week where I post a fanfic (or more) on Thursday but not Friday, however, I wasn't sure if I should post these fanfics related to Stacy Keibler before her birthday or on her birthday.

______________________________________________________________

Stacy Keibler was hired by the World Wrestling Federation and even WCW because of her beauty and sex appeal, not her wrestling talent (which she mostly lacked).

And she was used mostly for eye candy and at first, a valet in the WWF, where she'd use her beauty and flirtatiousness to distract opponents.

One of her most iconic distractions is where she'd turn her body around, lift her skirt (or bottom of her dress) up and wiggle her ass around.

In 2002, since you were a wrestling valet from time to time (and were hired as the WWF to be a valet), during an episode of "Sunday Night Heat", you were the valet for a match against Rob Van Dam.

During the middle of the match, you walked up the stairs leading up to the ring, where the camera filmed you on your side as you walked up those stairs.

Sometimes the camera even filmed you underneath your skirt to take a peek at your panties underneath there, and many male fans saw that you were walking up those stairs, those male fans getting excited.

You carefully walked on the edge of the ring, watching your step and stopped walking once you were in the middle of the ropes.

Rob Van Dam was near the ropes you were standing by for a reason, and this was now your chance to distract him.

Once you stood by the middle of the ropes, you carefully rotated and turned your body around until your back was touching the ropes, and your hands grabbed your skirt you wore and slowly raised it up, exposing and showing off more of your ass cheeks.

As you raised your skirt up, you slowly wiggled and gyrated your ass left and right with a smirk on your face, your head turning sideways and looking behind you at Rob, making eye contact with him as you smiled at him.

You know what to do with your cute butt: wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!

Underneath your skirt wasn't just your bare buttocks, but a thong in between your ass cheeks.

While you pulled your skirt up and wiggled your butt, many male fans in the audience got out of their seats and gave you a standing ovation, these male fans---who were grown men in their 20's and teenage pubescent boys---smiled from ear to ear while their mouths were agape and their eyes were glued to you, cheering for you while their arms and fists were up in the air.

Some men in the audience whistled at you.

Rob's eyes caught your ass cheeks wiggling at him whilst you pulled your skirt up, and he, too, couldn't keep his eyes off of your ass.

His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows raised, and his mouth was forming a faint little smirk and smile while he gazed at your butt.

Rob nearly wants to walk up to you and pinch your ass, maybe even spank it.

The camera caught Rob's reaction to you wiggling your bare ass cheeks and raising your skirt up.

Rob was completely distracted over you, but then, he was attacked by his opponent.

It was all a trap and a ruse.

As Rob was getting beaten up, you pulled your skirt back down, turned around and laughed maniacally at him, pointing your index finger at him as you cackled.

You then hopped off of the ring, not having to climb down those stairs, where you turned around and continued to watch the match.

You raising your skirt up and wiggling your ass was inspired by what Stacy Keibler does, even the outfit you wore while you wiggled your ass and raised your skirt up was Stacy Keibler-like.

You had pulled your skirt up and wiggled your buttocks after Stacy Keibler had done it.

[cranberre]

you are walking past a group of mall rats. you are looking at the floor, but you can see them in the corner of your eye. you are very aware of their presence. they are loud. you are alone. when you were leaving her, your friend told you she was worried about you walking home by yourself, but you’ve done it before. not past this particular group, but they look similar enough to the last one, maybe a bit rowdier, and you even made a friend last time too. nevertheless, you swallow your nerves and pretend the howling wind can somehow hide you from them. some make comments you ignore. you are past them now. you hear rushing footsteps and someone calling you. you ignore that too. they are close now. running doesn’t even cross your mind before you turn around. it’s a girl and she hands you your i.d. you dropped. you say thank you. she shows you her i.d. too, as if to brag about it. it’s bigger than yours, but that’s the only difference you can notice under the dim street light. she says she just got it yesterday. you take it in your hands and look closely at her picture. she looks the same as she does now. “you look pretty”, you say, and you realize how awkward that is to say, but you can’t help the words forming on  your lips so you say it anyway. she says thank you. you turn around and walk away with her i.d. still in your hands, and you are aware of that, and you know you should give it back, but you really want to keep a picture of this pretty girl. it’s okay. you think she might have kept your i.d. too.

a boy is following you and now you are scared. he keeps a fast pace behind you, weaving in between groups of people enjoying their time at the mall, his eyes never leaving you. you don’t know if you know him. you might. you don’t like how fast he is walking. as you are almost jogging through the food court, a girl grabs your hand and pulls you into a crowd of people. she’s fast, like she’s done this before, and she has a determined look on her face. she pulls you down a flight of stairs. your heart is beating fast, from running so fast, from fear. you can’t help looking up and look for the boy who was following you, but you don’t see him. it doesn’t sooth your nerves. maybe you lost him, but there’s so many people it’s hard to tell. so you keep running. pushing and shoving and whispering “excuse me” even though you know people can’t hear you over their conversations because you’re not rude. she’s not holding your hand anymore. you see a big flight of stairs and think if you go up again you might loose him for good. you run up the stairs three steps at a time, but it tires you almost immediately. the girl from before appears behind you. you thought you lost her, but she was behind you the entire time. this realization gives you some relief. she grabs your hand and quickly pulls you back down. she guides you to a small escalator next to the stairs you were struggling to climb. you go down. she does not follow you. she doesn’t need to.

you are stumbling through maintenance corridors. you know this corridors will lead you outside, and you can’t hear anyone follow you, and still you try to be fast. you burst through a door and the night air hits you in the face, instantly cooling you down. you feel a sense of calm wash over you. you feel safe. you walk down metal steps towards an open area at the back of the mall. you think there should be a fountain or a busy road or tall buildings surrounding you, but this area feels too private for there to be any of these things. there’s people sprawled on the stone floor and lounging on the stone benches, talking and laughing. you recognize them. you don’t know them, but you’ve walked by them before. had exchanged words with some of them, even. you join them. as you approach you hear “hi” and “hey” and other welcoming words you might say when you encounter a friend you haven’t seen in a while even though you don’t think you have talked to any of these particular people before. you lay down in between two people. you let the chattering lull you into a sense of peace. you feel the night breeze on your face and the cool stone on your back. you look at the sky, and you look to your right, and you see her. a few people over, lying next to the boy who was following you in the mall. you barely register the fact that he got here before you. she looks up and she smiles at you with a scrunched nose and kind eyes. she is genuinely happy to see you. she is wearing the same necklace she was wearing when you met her. you look back at the sky. you feel a weight on your leg. you look down and there she is, curling herself into you with her head in your lap, smiling up at you, and you can’t help but smile back. you look to your right again. the boy is joking around with his friends, his attention solely on them, not sparing neither you nor her a glance. he doesn’t look so scary now.

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 69,

We made it onto the floating island.  Most of us anyway.

Apparently my Catacomb nightmares were enough to wake up everyone else in the room, which was enough for them to wake me up in turn.  Perhaps because of that, I don’t remember them near as vividly as I usually do.  Just a feeling of frustration bordering on despair and a sense of attempting to ascend, but no matter how many paths upward I found, there was enough downward travel between each one that all I was really doing was slowing my descent.

If there’s a silver lining to be had there, it’s that it meant we were all awake, eating breakfast, and ready to go before sunup.  Except for Maiko.

I followed Lin as she headed downstairs to go check on her and wake her up.  To my relief, Maiko reacted more calmly than I expected when Lin pulled the door to the hidden chamber all the way open and let the light of the archives flood in to wake its occupant.  Maybe it was the blanket, maybe she’s just normally chill in the morning and I was overestimating the strength of her fight-or-flight tendencies.  What Lin didn’t seem to be expecting was for a still half-asleep Maiko to climb out of bed at the mention of food and walk out the door past us in her usual state of dress, or rather lack thereof.

Lin’s… distraction… by this turn of events put her lack of interest in a husband in a different light.

Which is to say that it was left to me to talk drowsy Maiko into putting the clothes and cloak from yesterday back on before going upstairs – at least until we got out of the Village – while Lin’s brain was briefly short circuiting too much to do anything but stare.  As Maiko went back into the room to get dressed, Lin finally managed to say something.  That something was near-unintelligibly fast with words running together, but from context she seemed to be excusing herself since she started quickly walking in the direction of the stairs before she even finished.

After she left, Maiko asked why humans’ faces go red like that sometimes.  Do we change colors?  Were we trying to copy her?

After a moment of thinking how to phrase it, I said it’s an involuntary reaction we have to certain emotions and stimuli.  Anger, embarrassment, strenuous physical activity, and unexpectedly seeing someone with little clothes on will all do it.  Along with some other things.  You really have to take context into account to interpret it.

She said people are confusing.

I agreed.

Some minutes later the five of us were all upstairs, fed, packed, ready to go, and staring out the window waiting for the shade outside to disappear.  The mists themselves were back to mere wisps along the ground, and as we watched the street filled with a warmer light than what was spilling from the library.  Within seconds the shade that had stood outside our door all night melted into the cobblestones, its black essence running between them like spilt ink and fading as it dispersed until no trace was left.

Soon as this finished we unlocked the door and hurried out.  Looking to the north-east I could see the floating island already, fortunately slightly behind my estimated schedule.  Meanwhile, Vernon was already off and running toward Ettor’s to retrieve the capy.  The rest of us set to work doing last-minute checks to make sure everything was in place and that we hadn’t forgotten anything.

Several minutes later – long enough that I was nervously bouncing my leg and watching the island’s progress – Vernon showed back up.  Without a large pack animal.

Someone had untied the animal and opened its stable during the night and now no one could find it.  Ettor was blaming his brother and had invoked some custom or another demanding that Vernon once again act as mediator between them that he couldn’t say no to.

So, we were down one person for joining the expedition and one animal for pulling the cart.  No one wanted to call it off after this much prep so we made the snap decision to try pulling the cart ourselves.  Vernon volunteered to help, saying that even if he couldn’t be leaving the Village for an extended period of time right now, he could at least try to help the rest of us make it.

It was slow going at first.  Slow enough that we definitely wouldn’t have made it in time.  Then as we were discussing whether we should unload some of it, Maiko, who had been hanging back for fear of drawing attention to herself or her hood falling off, finally joined in.  I knew she was strong, but this… I’m pretty sure she was doing more work than the rest of us put together.  Enough work that Cass and I got out of the way and started unloading some of the excess supplies (now that Vernon wouldn’t be joining us) while the cart was in motion.  We ended up just dropping it on the street as we went.  Vernon can deal with it later.

By the time we reached Siren Overlook the floating island was already in place and Maiko looked near to collapse.  We let her have the honor of being first to step foot on the floating island (with Cass close behind as second) and encouraged her to rest there while the rest of us unloaded the cart.  She tried to protest and we hastily cut a middle ground of handing her things across the small gap while she moved them out of the way to make room for more as we made the trips up and down the stars at the end of the Overlook to and from the cart.  The next few minutes were a frenzied blur, ending with Lin calling out that the island was moving again, Cass and I sprinting to join, and Vernon tossing a sack across the rapidly widening gap.  We didn’t get everything, but we got everything important and we should still have enough to last us.  Assuming Cass and I didn’t overdo it with dropping things in the street to lighten the load.

And so the four of us sat under that stone arch at the edge of the isle, or else leaned on its pillars, catching our collective as we watched the land shrink away behind us.  Once we could no longer easily make out Vernon standing on the edge waving to us we gathered up what we could easily carry and started off down the cracked stone path into the trees.

Thinking back on it, we sort of left Vernon to deal with getting the cart back to the Village on his own…  Eh, he’s probably fine.  If there’s anyone that can sweet talk someone into helping him get it back, it’s him.  And another silver lining to a less than ideal situation today: While we were waiting for the mist to clear this morning I brought out the box of bronze bracelets Cass and I had found under the cathedral and gave one each to Maiko and Vernon, explaining the anomalous properties we’d figured out about them.  I’d never gotten around to giving one to Pat like I’d meant to, so at least Vernon being back in the Village will mean someone there will know if something bad happens to one of us and might be able to… do something.  Maybe send a rescue party on a boat if one of us falls into the sea or wanders onto another island and gets left behind.  Maiko was understandably less keen about others being able to find her through the bracelet and slipped hers into that pouch she’d shown up with yesterday instead of putting it on.

But back to our initial foray onto the island.

Following the winding path through the trees – winding enough that I suspect it was made so more for aesthetics than geographic necessity – the others made the same observations I had previously about the trees here being slightly different from the ones that make up most of the main island’s jungles.  In a number of spots, those trees had grown right through the paving stones, making the path even harder to follow, often rendering it less like a path and more like a line of slightly less dense undergrowth.  The birdsong had unfamiliar voices added to its chorus as well, which was uncanny after months of getting used to the background noise.  Probably even odder for the others.

At one point Cass suggested just cutting in a straight line since the path seemed to follow a general direction, but that was shot down.  We had all day in front of us, and better to take our time than get lost or push through a thick bush and suddenly find ourselves stepping off the edge.  In a similar vein, when Lin pulled a machete from her pack (her own or from the donated supplies I’m not sure) Maiko spoke up saying that we don’t know if any nature sprite or similar spirits might have taken up residence here and that could take offense if we start cutting things down.  Thinking about the sort of damage my own haunter could do if it were angry rather than just mischievous, I was quick to second that opinion.

And so, while weeks ago I’d estimated several minutes to cross the island on foot at a brisk pace, with our pace being anything but brisk or direct it was more like half an hour or so of trekking uphill through bush until we the trees broke and we found ourselves in front of the old mansion.

Windows were broken, plants sprouted between the boards of the veranda, flowering vines crisscrossed the walls, and a tree was growing through one of the holes in the sagging, three-story high roof.  But it was standing with all outer walls and front door intact, which was more than I expected.  If this place had been meant to house a number of guests at any given time like Pat’s story had mentioned, it was certainly large enough.

Our collective awed gaze at the structure looming above us was soon drawn downward by the clucking noises.  It seems that among the things left behind by Priscilla and her husband was a chicken coop (or birds close enough that I’m going to call them that) and its residents had been fruitful and multiplied in the years since, for their feathered descendants were strutting all about the yard around the mansion, occasionally stopping to peck at the ground.  Perhaps we have them to thank for this area being less overgrown?

These birds were surprisingly unperturbed by us as we approached the house, only moving out of our way when it seemed we were practically about to step on them.  A sign that there aren’t any predators here?

Maiko hung back, wary of setting foot on the steps while the rest of us tried the door.  The door was technically unlocked, but was stuck in place from a combination of plant growth and warped frame.  As we worked to push it open Cass started to lose patience and Lin had to grab her by the backpack to stop the child from climbing through a broken window.  The last thing we needed was cuts from glass shards.

Eventually the combined weight of the three of us was able to brute force the front door open.  Inside, the ground floor was littered with generations of leaves, shed feathers, and chicken droppings.  A couple of chickens scattered at the sudden loud noise, one fleeing out the window Cass had been wanting to climb through, vindicating her assertions of that route’s viability.

I made more detailed notes of our initial findings as we went in my other notebook, so I’ll spare the details and summarize here.

First floor pretty much belonged to the chickens.  Every flat surface was scratched up and/or spattered in waste.  Any cushions or fabrics torn apart for nest materials.  The cleanest areas were near broken windows and around the tree that had grown through the building where presumably rain could occasionally wash things away.

First floor included a large den/living room, kitchen, dining room, and a couple of bedrooms.

Scattered about where what looked to be music stands and painting easels.  A few remains of canvases stretched over frames as well, but none in condition to make out what was once on them.

The contents of some of the drawers and cabinets seemed to be in better shape than the rest of the house.  Just looked at a couple though.  Haven’t done a thorough search of any of the rooms yet.

Stairs going up to the second floor were creaky.  I’m still not convinced they’re stable enough that one of us might not put a foot through them eventually.

Second floor is in better shape than the first.  Less mess from the chickens.  Signs of water damage on the ceilings.

Doors were all closed on the second floor.  Surprisingly, most of them were locked, including the one with the tree going through it.  The couple we could get into were bedrooms.  No chicken droppings there.  Might be passable for sleeping in, but I worry about mold.  I’d definitely just be spreading a bedroll on the floor instead of getting into the bed that’s there.

Couldn’t find entrance to the attic.  Maybe in one of the locked rooms?  But if the second floor ceiling water spots and holes in the roof are anything to go by, it’s probably not in good condition.

Outside we found the remains of the aforementioned chicken coop.  Also traces of what Cass suspected was once a vegetable garden, albeit with said vegetables long since pecked to death.

After that initial exploration of the house and some debate, we decided to set up camp outside for the time being rather than dealing with chicken poop and floors of questionable durability.  With that settled, we split into two groups, one to start setting up the tents and make sure the chickens didn’t get into the food (not sure if they actually can or not, but I wasn’t keen on finding out) and the other to go back to the arch and get the rest of our stuff.  More discussion about how to split up.  Originally I proposed that Cass and I stay and Lin and Maiko get the stuff.  Lin argued that Maiko still shouldn’t be doing more than she has to right now after doing most of the work with the cart pulling this morning.  Maiko interjected that she was fine, but Lin slipped back into her professional façade and wouldn’t hear of it.  When Cass asked why she wasn’t being considered for carrying duty I pointed out that the water barrel was about as big as she was.

Part of me suspects that some of that was Lin being nervous about being alone with Maiko.

Back down at the arch we could see that we were pretty far from the main island at this point with just the water below us.  Too bad we couldn’t see where we were going from there.  We looked to be pretty close to the exact “back” of the floating island.

We started with the aforementioned water barrel since we knew it was going to be the heaviest/hardest to manage.  Took both of us to lift.  Over an hour later of picking it up and putting it back down while pushing through bush I was regretting not leaving it to Maiko.

Once we finally got back the first tent was up and Cass and Maiko were halfway through pitching the second.  Apparently between the four of us Lin’s the only one who knew how to do that beforehand so it took them some experimenting.

Also Maiko had gone back to her usual clothes.  Lin’s reaction was more measured this time, but I’m still glad we’d already put down the barrel when Maiko came out from behind the tent.  Cass seemed utterly indifferent to it.  I had some gut reaction regarding appropriate modesty around children, but then again, with this equatorial climate, you see people wearing not significantly more around the Village on a daily basis, and it’s not like she’s being lewd about it.

With how much that barrel carrying took out of us, we started taking turns getting the rest of the supplies, mixing up the pairs.  I’m pretty sure that Lin and Maiko didn’t say five words to each other during their time alone.

By the time we got everything gathered back up we were all exhausted once again.  Since then we’ve just been lounging around in the grass, making small talk, watching the clouds pass by, and watching Lin and Cass (mostly Lin) play with the chickens while I write this far too long entry.  Sun will be going down before too long, so we’ll probably break out some food and then retire to the tents.  Not a lot to do after dark here that I’m aware of.

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