#i wanted to put some real ones somewhere where i could see them every day

[beauty-brains-braun]

Better

Hawks wants to get back together. Your best friend Bakugo has some thoughts on that.

mdni 18+

Pairings: Bakugo/fem reader, mentioned Past Hawks/ fem reader

Tags/TW:  Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Jealousy

Your eyes tracked Keigo as he crossed the bar, stopping every few seconds to chat with one person or another. He hadn't spotted you yet. You'd really like to be looking elsewhere once he did but you couldn't seem to look away.

If you’d known he’d be here, you would have stayed home. Shouldn’t he have been off being an asshole somewhere else? How could he possibly fit this party into his busy schedule of preening and backstabbing? His head started to turn in your direction and you looked away so fast you felt your neck pop.

Katsuki Bakugo was sneering at you when you looked his way. “When are you going to get over that loser?”

“I am over him. He just infuriates me.” You lean a little closer to your best friend. “You wouldn’t be interested in flirting with me real quick though, by any chance?”

He snorted so hard, he almost choked on his beer. “No chance in hell, you better find Kirashima.”

You put your hand on his arm and laughed a touch too loudly, leaning against him. Kiri was not going to get the job done, Keigo had always been insanely jealous of your friendship with Katsuki and what would truly heal you was pissing the feathered man off.

“You have got to be joking.” Katsuki said, blinking incredulously. “This is you flirting? How do you keep finding boyfriends?” He held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe this is exactly why you only date losers.”

“Ouch” You put your hand to your chest. “Let’s walk that back several feet. I am excellent at flirting, I just usually have a partner who gives me something to work with.”

“You want something to work with?” He asked, setting down his beer.

“It would be ni-” You were cut off as he pulled from your stool, and spun you so your back touched the bar. You blinked rapidly in shock as your eyes met his crimson pair, sparkling deviously.

Katsuki’s arms brushed against yours where he caged you in and he leaned forwards, placing his mouth next to your ear. “Like this?”

Your throat was suddenly extremely dry and you struggled to respond, eventually just deciding to nod. A mistake because his mouth brushed your skin at the movement and lightning tingled up your spine.

He leaned back, just far enough to see your face, and you noticed his devious expression had been replaced by something else. Something you struggled to recognize.

A throat cleared nearby, startling you both. You looked up to find Keigo standing there, face twisted into a frown and eyes burning with annoyance. You’d forgotten he was even here.

“Keigo. What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asked and you almost smirked at the tone in his voice. Pissing him off had not been hard.

“We are talking, unfortunately.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“Fuck off, Hawks. She’s busy.” Katsuki glared hard at Hawks and the other man’s eyes narrowed in response. You sighed loudly, suddenly annoyed with both of them. They had always hated each other, though in all fairness Katsuki hated anyone higher than him on the hero chart. Privately, you thought he’d pass Hawks soon but the thought had always felt like a betrayal.

“Let’s not start, guys. You’re going to ruin Mina’s birthday. Again. Remember last year’s incident? With the cake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but Keigo turned back to you. “Can we just go outside and talk then? Please. Just for a minute.”

“Fine.” You gave in, too tired to fight him. You’d never been all that good at saying no to him.

“This is not a good idea.” Katsuki growled, turning back to you, arms still caging you in.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, placing your hand on his arm briefly, before moving out of his hold and following Keigo outside.

***********

Forty-five minutes later you were in your shower, letting the hot water wash the day off of your shoulders. You were alone, exhausted, and a little too proud of yourself for successfully holding your ground. Keigo had wanted to get back together but you’d told him no. He’d hurt you too badly. He’d demanded to know if something was going on with you and Katsuki. You told him what you did was none of his damn business anymore. He had made sure of that. After your talk you were left more confident than before that you were over him but you’d just wanted to get out of there so you texted Katsuki and Mina and came home. You were going to have to do some serious groveling to Mina but that was a problem for tomorrow..

You were turning off the water when someone began pounding loudly on your front door. Wrapping a giant towel around yourself, you went to answer it. Confused as to who would be knocking on your door like they’d like to break it down, you pulled it open suddenly, blinking in surprise to find Katsuki standing there, fist flying uselessly through the air as he tried to keep banging on a door that was no longer there.

“Is something wrong??” You looked him over for an injury.

Katsuki glared at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” You asked, confused. “Are you mad I left because-”

“Yes, I’m mad you left! That asshole completely shredded your heart and you still leave with him? Where the fuck is he? I’m going to kick his ass.” Katsuki pushed past you into your apartment and disappeared into your bedroom.

Wait. He thought you’d left with Keigo? You followed him. “Katsuki, no one else is here. Not that it’s any of your business, actually, but I told Keigo to leave me alone.”

“Not my business?” He asked, voice raising slightly. “Who has to hear about it every single time your shitty taste in men comes back to bite you in the ass? Who has spent a decade watching you choose wrong again and again?”

Ouch. Your chest hurt suddenly and you turned away from him. Katsuki had always been there for you and it had never occurred to you that he resented it. “Sorry, I’ll just keep my poor choices to myself from now on.” You tried to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” You turned to look at him, fighting tears.

“I’m saying choose better.” He pulled you closer seconds before his mouth crashed into yours.

The lighting you felt up your spine at the bar earlier returned, this time coursing through your entire body. You were frozen in shock, the last thing you’d ever expected was Katsuki to kiss you.

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you obviously aren’t interested in-”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, pulling him back to you and kissing him this time. He kissed you back immediately, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you as close to him as you could get. His other hand, he brought up to cup your neck and you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. Your nipples hardened and you were suddenly very aware that the only thing you were wearing was a towel.

Katsuki’s mouth left yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and to your neck, making you gasp. “Can I taste you? “ He asked suddenly and heat flared through you. “I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.” His crimson eyes were dark with lust and you found yourself nodding. The sight of him dropping to his knees before you would be cemented into your brain until you died. He reached for the edge of the towel and tugged firmly, eyes drinking you in the moment it dropped away.

“Fuck” he whispered. His fingers brushed your skin, trailing up your legs almost reverently to grasp your legs and spread them. His lips touched your skin, kissing your inner thighs, before he turned his head and his tongue found your clit then snaked down to your entrance, lapping up the juices he found there then returning his attention to your clit until your legs shook and threatened to collapse. He pulled away, looking up into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Katsuki got to his feet and kissed you so deeply, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He moved you both back a few steps and laid you down onto your bed before stepping back and removing his shirt. Your eyes drank in his muscles greedily and then he removed his pants. Your eyes dipped lower and widened at the sight of his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips which were suddenly so so dry and Katsuki let out a low groan at the sight before he was back on top of you. His mouth was everywhere. On your mouth, your neck, then your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting lightly while his fingers push into you, stretching you around them. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach until you snapped, cumming around his fingers.

He removed his fingers quickly replacing them with the head of his cock. He put his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices from them as he slowly pushed inside you.

“Fuck” he grunted, head dropping to rest on your shoulder when he bottomed out deep inside you.

“Please” you whined, grinding your hips, needing friction. Needing him to freaking move.

“Hold on, I- fuck- I need a second or this is gonna be over before it starts.” He let out a deep breath then finally pulled back, almost all of the way out of you and thrust back in. “God, you’re perfect. Just for me.” He fucked in and out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot every time. “So wet and tight for me.”

“Katsuki” you whined, feeling amazing but needing more. “Harder please.”

He let out a rough laugh and pulled out of you, drawing a cry of protest from you. “So needy for me, huh?” He flipped you over, pressing your back down into the mattress with one hand and pulling your hips up with the other. He slammed back into you, immediately setting the rough pace you’d desperately needed. “Answer me.”

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, not sure he’d have been able to hear you over the smacking of his hips on your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re sucking me in so good.” His chuckle turns into a moan as your orgasm hits you and your pussy clenches his cock, milking it. He falls forward, hands gripping your sheets as you cum around him and he fights to keep the same pace, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

You dimly register sparks in the corner of your vision and the sound of Katsuki cursing, but can’t concentrate on anything except for the longest, most amazing orgasm of your life. It makes sense for you to see fireworks really. You slowly come down from your high and register the scorched handprints on your sheets and Katsuki pulling out to cum on your thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I- shit.” He’s staring at your sheets in concern but you laugh, pulling him down next to you.

“Worth it.” You tell him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled at you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Should probably go ahead and get a few backup sets while you’re at it.” You teased.

“You think so?” He rolled over, nuzzling into your neck and nibbling at the skin there. “I suppose these are already ruined… We might as well take advantage.”

“Already?” You asked, laughing.

A knock at your door interrupted his reply and you exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe we were too loud?” You suggested but an annoyed knowing look had settled on Katsuki’s face.

He got to his feet, pulling on his boxers on the way to your door.

The sound of Keigo’s voice had you sitting up in surprise. You wrapped the sheet around you and made it to your bedroom door.

Keigo stood in the doorway to your apartment, staring at Katsuki in open mouthed outrage.

“She’s taken.” Katsuki snapped, slamming the door in Keigo’s face before he had time to respond.

Katsuki turned around, smirking when his eyes landed on you. “Now where were we?”

[remusluvr]

words i used | sirius black

summary: Sirius learns the consequences of treating people he loves bad. content: angst, fighting, crying, one use of y/n note: part 2 - do i wanna know? (sirius black)

You knew from the beginning that this relationship was not one made to last. Sirius wasn't the relationship type. Yet, you let yourself get excited anyway. You let yourself get excited over when he'd hold your hand in the hallway, and sit next to you during meals, and go out of his way to hang out with you when there were other things he could be doing.

But with excitement comes disappointment. Disappointment when you see him flirting with another girl in the hallway or when you'd catch him hanging out with his friends while you were supposed to be together. There was always a counteract that threw you off. Did you mean anything to him?

The final straw was seeing him pressing some sixth-year against the wall during a party, lips attached to hers. It's like any and all hope was drained from your body, leaving you feeling unusually empty. Even walking out of the common room was a feat.

And the trek to find somewhere private was even harder of a journey. Slinking down against some wall in some abandoned hallway, you can't fight off the burning feeling in your throat anymore. You bring your knees to your chest and cry. He was never yours but you really hoped that maybe one day he could be.

It hurts too much to put any more effort into the dead-end of your relationship. By the time you finally will yourself to pull things together, your eyes are puffy and red. You don't want anyone to know. It's embarrassing. Especially when everyone had warned you not to get your hopes up but you brushed them off, blinded by the boy.

Sometimes, you'd have sleepovers where he would hold you close and run his fingers through your hair whilst you talked quietly. He would tell you how much he liked you and wanted to be with you. But it was never real. Just another check on his never-ending journey to make out with every girl in school.

It feels like a completely different world when you wake up the next morning. You wouldn't say that the world is brighter or duller, just different. It's like you have been forced to finally open your eyes and see things for how they are.

Breakfast is the first noticeable change. He comes in late, taking his unassigned-assigned seat next to you.

"Good morning," he smiles, plucking a piece of toast from the pile. You hum from your position next to him, not turning to look at him. You chew on your lip and he swats at it like usual, telling you to knock it off but you can't. You can't be around him.

If the bench below you was able to move, it would be halfway across the room with the way you stood up so abruptly.

"What's wrong?"

"I just, god-" you cut yourself off. He doesn't deserve an explanation so you storm out, leaving him even more confused. Sirius wants to follow and beg you to tell him why you're upset with him but he's never seen you this way before. He's not sure what you need him to do, if you need him at all.

He's sure that something is very wrong when you don't show up to class, one that you sit together in. Racking his brain, he's trying to figure out exactly what caused you to turn so cold to him out of nowhere. There's not much work being done in McGonagall's today as the only thing on his parchment is a list of things that could've upset you.

You're hidden away in a secret alcove that Sirius had shown you. Maybe it's not the best place to go when you're trying to get over him but it's the only place you know that the teachers won't be able to find you. This used to be one of your favorite places to go. Sometimes you and Sirius would sneak off here to make out at random times throughout the school day.

The memory of his hands tangling themselves into your hair as he pulls you closer onto his lap floods your mind. It's cruel. He was never officially yours but for a little while you could have your fantasy that he was.

Sirius isn't stupid, maybe it takes him a little longer to come to conclusions on things but he's not an idiot. Well, not a total idiot. His list of things he's written just keeps going and even if he can't pinpoint the exact reason for why you're mad at him, he has several that showcase how bad of a friend he is. He makes it his mission to fix whatever is wrong.

"(Y/N)-" he starts when he sees you passing by in the hallway. You glance over with a thin, tight-lipped smile on your face as he gets cut off.

"Sirius! I had fun last night, I was thinking that maybe we could go to Hogsmeade together this weekend?" a random girl interrupts, driving the knife further into your heart. His face and your face fall as he turns to the girl.

"Oh, uh no," he states rather bluntly, following after your figure with his eyes before trying to catch up with you. He has to shove through the crowded hallway so that he doesn't lose you.

And when he finally does catch up to you, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you off to the side. Your breathing is heavier than usual and he realizes you were really trying to get away from him.

"What?" you grit, anger evident in your voice. You're blinking more than usual to try and keep the tears from falling and he's not sure what to say. "Don't you have better things to do with your time? Things that don't involve leading me on and then making out with someone else?"

"I'm sorry," is the only thing he comes up with. You laugh at him because that's all he can say. He looks like a hurt puppy as you rub your hands over your eyes. He doesn't get to be the hurt one in this situation.

"I tried, Sirius. I don't understand what else I can do to make you like me. Do any of those girls mean anything to you? Was I just one of them?" you spit. His gaze is fixed on the ground and you know you'll never get anywhere. He doesn't care. "I can't be around you anymore. I can't look at you."

"Please," he mumbles, "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I act like this. I like you so much. I shouldn't have made out with her or anyone else when I knew all I want is you. It's like I only know how to ruin things for myself."

"D-don't turn yourself into the victim here. That's not fair. You hurt me and you're trying to make me feel bad for you. It's not hard to not make me look like a fool. All you had to do was not go after other girls. Did you think I never noticed until now? Maybe I didn't see all of them but I saw too many for it to be a one-off thing."

"I'm sorry, really. I want to be with you but that scares me. Will you please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me? I want you to be my girlfriend."

It's the words you want to hear but the circumstance is wrong. Why couldn't he have realized this before? Why did he have to make you feel so shitty?

"I can't, Sirius. None of your words mean anything to me when you go and do the opposite almost immediately. I know you'll make someone really happy one day, but it won't be me. I can't put myself through this again."

"No, please. Let me prove it to you," his words fall on deaf ears as you walk away. Staying any longer would just increase his chances of you saying 'yes.' And he doesn't get to recover that easily. Your hands are shaking and your body aches. "Please."

part 2 - do i wanna know? (sirius black)

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🔭🔭🔭

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

🔭 Scorpio Risings are so underated for their fashion. They really express creatively through their clothing choice. All of them need to be the flyest looking person in the room. They have really person, unique, daring and bold fashion sense, very personal much like Aries Moons.

🔭 But with that being said, they also either look like they haven’t showered for two days or really put together. They are constantly somewhere in the middle of being very comfortably dressed and really looking sharp. One day they can look homeless, but the next day like they are going to a fashion show. Again, they taking way of clothing in extreme.

🔭 The thing with Leo over the 8th house people I noticed is that they become much more carefree, spontaneous, worry less and less strict with time. When younger they put so much pressure of themselves, which could even make them a mood killer, because of how serious and strict they appear. But when older, they become much more easy-going and more flexible and not so strict with being punctual.

🔭 Composite Pisces Mars (even sometimes also Mars in the 12th house and Mars Neptune aspect) is often found where people have very different habits and lifestyle. One is a couch potato and the other is really active. One is really social and the other is introverted. Usually these two don't have compatible Mars signs in their own natal charts.

🔭 Composite Aries Moon is often found in the Composite chart where there is "a first". Maybe your first real partnership, the first person you have sex with, your first person you move in with, first crush, first love.

🔭 Couples who have Uranus in the 1st house in the Composite chart often don’t believe in traditional, stereotypical gender roles. They might both be the little spoon, they can both gift each other flowers and they might split the bill or each pay half of the joint bill.

🔭 Mars in Scorpio and Mars in Aries might have a partner that doesn’t that physical hygiene really seriously. They might often forget to brush teeth etc.

🔭 The sign that falls over the 11th house, you will feel they are very different from you. For example: if you have Libra over the 11th house, you could feel like you don’t resonate with Libra Sun when it comes to the traits of the sign. You might WISH, DREAM to have some of these traits one day in the future, but it is far from who you already are.

🔭 Virgo Moons can get quite paranoid if they don’t know the next step that they will take. At every step of the way they need to be sure to make a plan for the future, otherwise they spiral or panic.

🔭 I found people who have Capricorn over the 11th house might enter serious commitment later in life, well after the age of 30. They could start family, a job or a marriage later than average. But mostly, because they don’t want to rush these important parts of their life.

🔭 Composite Pisces Mars: you might quickly steal sneaky pictures of each other at random moments, like when the other is eating etc.

🔭 Whenever a Scorpio or a Aries Sun enters your life, you will just want to move and change along with them, because of how much action they bring in your life. With Cancer Sun entering your life, you might just see yourself spending more time with your family members, start cooking, decorating your home more, spending more time at home. When Taurus Sun enters your life, you might start valuing yourself more highly, you could start wearing better clothes and look more presentable. You might find yourself spending more time in nature.

🔭 Aries over the 4th house gets attached very fast in love when younger, but with time and age, they grow more comfortable with just being by themselves and don’t seek partnerships as much.

🔭 The first romantic partner that you will be the longest with (like your first really long relationship in comparison with previous ones), you might have Aquarius or Capricorn Ascendant in the Composite chart. Or Uranus or Saturn in the 1st house.

🔭 Leo Mars: best way towards more confidence, it’s just starting to work out more. They instantly get more confident. Because it’s Mars combined with Leo energy.

🔭 I noticed the best time to get a haircut is when Moon is transiting your 1st house. Because it’s a transit of naturally being comfortable with whatever new change it brings. You will still feel secure within yourself.

🔭 Virgo MC supposedly is one of the most “workaholic” placements, but can we talk about Gemini over the 4th house or Gemini ICs? They literally need work to feel secure and comfortable in themselves.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[jflemings]

— yard sale

pairing: alessia russo x reader

synopsis: you pack up your life and move far away from the supposed love of you life

warnings: just lots of angst

୧ ‧₊˚ 📦 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I put a sign on a telephone pole with the address below I wrote the time and I circled in bold, everything must go

you knew that it was time for you to leave. you and alessia's relationship had crumbled from beneath your feet quickly and mercilessly. one day you two were happy and planning a future and the next you were throwing her out and telling her that you never wanted to see her again.

so here you were, sitting out front of your place with a dingy clothes rack and boxes of all your meaningless things ready to sell so that you could pack up your life in london and get the fuck out.

a pair of young teenage girls hand you some clothes, a pair of shoes and a necklace along with the money to pay. you smile gratefully and put the items in a plastic bag before waving them goodbye, not noticing the figure standing a little bit away from where you were sitting. the head of blonde hair isn't the thing that catches your eye, it's the pair of arsenal trackies she's wearing. your eyes travel from the number six on her pants all the way up to her face where her eyes are boring into you.

you curtly nod and attempt to distract yourself with putting some other shirts on hangers when she slowly makes her way over. leah tucks her hands in the pocket of her jumper and digs her toe in the ground, her head hung low like she’s thinking.

sneaking a glance at her you clear your throat “leah”

“hey” she says surprised like she wasn’t expecting you to see her standing right in front of you “bit of spring cleaning?”

you half smirk and grab more hangers from the box next to you “moving. i don’t want to take everything”

the lioness captain stands up straight “you’re moving? where to?”

“chicago”

“oh wow. so far away”

you roll your eyes “you here to buy something or just to look around?” your patience is quickly wearing thin every moment she tries to make small talk. it wasn’t really like leah, the few times you’d hung out with her in a group setting she always had a purpose for a conversation. it wasn’t that she necessarily hated small talk, she just wasn’t good at it. at all.

“honestly i came to see how you were doing” she scratches the back of her neck “i saw the sign and, y’know”

nodding your head, you smile at another girl handing you money for a black dress that alessia had convinced you to buy when you were her date for an event. it was classy and sleek, and you remembered the feeling of alessia’s hands all over you through the night. you watch the girl go wistfully before directing your attention back to the footballer.

“thanks, really, but it wasn’t needed. i’m fine”

you know that leah sees right through you but she doesn’t argue, instead excusing herself and giving a tight lipped smile to people she passes as she walks back to her car. you watch her trot across the street to her car. she practically throws the door open and slides in hastily, like she had suddenly remembered that she needed to be somewhere.

before she drove off you heard her phone ring through the bluetooth in her car. if it wasn’t so loud you wouldn’t have heard the very familiar ‘hello’ from the other end of the line.

Every perfect memory Stacked in boxes on the street Take what's left of you and me

when leah told alessia that you were packing up your whole life and moving, she almost couldn’t believe it. for three straight nights after that conversation she had laid in bed tossing and turning and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t real, that you weren’t moving thousands of kilometres away from her.

one morning before an early training session she drove past your flat. she remembers how cold it was, and how even her fleece jumper couldn’t stop her from shivering as she turned down your street.

the movers outside your place made her stomach turn. she thought she was going to throw up when she saw you putting boxes into the back of the van with a smile on your face. you were happily chatting to one of the movers and she could tell just by the way you were smiling that you were excited.

the possibility that you were going to be happy without her in your life makes her speed down the rest of your street. she calls in sick to training that day and doesn’t answer leah or kyra’s texts.

leah doesn’t have to ask her what’s wrong when she turns up at her front door later that day. the tears on alessia’s sweatshirt tell leah everything she needs to know.

I tried to call but you didn't call back to come and get you things I thought about just striking a match but it's hard to burn a memory

you had called and texted her so that she could come and get the things she didn't take with her when you threw her out. despite your best efforts to be the bigger person, the striker didn't once get back to you, instead leaving you on delivered and sending you straight to voicemail.

you gave up quickly after that, choosing to pack up your life around the small pile of things that sat in the corner of your quickly emptying bedroom. you packed her belongings into a cardboard box and labelled it ALESSIA, the black marker you used to do so feathering and squeaking.

you packed it into storage with the rest of your belongings and left it with everything you weren’t able to take with you to chicago. you had thought about burning her things, just simply throwing them into the bonfire pit in your small backyard, but you knew that it didn’t matter what you did with her things. the memories would linger.

Every empty picture frame All the shit that I tried to save Name your price, you can have my pain

one way you decided to cope was by taking every photo that you had framed of the two of you and throwing it out.

you balled them up and threw them in the trash without a second thought, not once sparing a glance and alessia’s smiling face as you tossed her away. you ended up donating all the empty frames to your local thrift, and whatever couldn’t be donated ended up thrown out.

every photo was a memory of what once was. each holiday, anniversary and special moment had been captured and put behind glass for what you thought would be forever. alessia had grown fond of decorating the walls of both of your places with photos of the two of you. her entry hall had been a shrine to your relationship and people would often comment how lucky the both of you were to have found eachother.

everlasting love was something that you had once believed in, something that you once treated as gospel. it was hard to deal with the fact that you had suddenly lost belief in it. in her.

It's time to empty out the place (hey!) I used to love but now I hate

you had gotten so incredibly lucky with your flat. rent was a decent price, it was close to work, within walking distance from a quaint little bookshop and it only took lessi six minutes to get from her place to yours.

it was a dream for you, one that you quickly embraced. you made your place your own with small touches of yourself around the place. from the decor, to the furniture, even to the way things were laid out. your place was definitely yours.

slowly but surely you emptied the home you once loved. took down the pictures, sold the furniture and tossed anything that made you think of your ex. you hollowed out your home and carved a hole into your heart, mercilessly hacking away pieces of yourself that no longer fit who you were.

now as you stand with your hand on the doorknob to your front door, the ghost of memories prance through the empty halls and past you like you’re watching your own memories back on a tv.

it hurt to leave but it hurt more to know that there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent you and alessia ending the way you did.

All the love is, all the love is gone

[diaprincess-dl]

First of all, thank you for who you are, and especially for choosing to share it with the world.

I am DL, with very few AB tendencies, if I understand correctly, you are also like that, with a connection to the DL world mainly.

There are very few women in the community in general, and in particular those who are DL. It's really refreshing to see that the first girl I notice that she's DL, she's also the most amazing beauty I've ever seen wearing diapers, and with a face that has real angelic cuteness.

I wanted to ask, and I would be very happy if you could answer, Even if not a complete answer, at least to know that you read and saw what I wrote, it will be very, very flattering to me.

When did you start wanting to wear a diaper? Is it sexual? If so, at what age did you realize it was related to sexual arousal? And if not, what in your soul makes you want this? At what age did you first put on diapers after initial weaning from diapers? And according to the fact that you had, from what I understand, late night wets, did your parents force you to wear a diaper? And when was the first time you put on a diaper in a section where it was clear to you that it was a so-called 'forbidden act'?

Sorry for the flood of questions.

I had a theory that was destroyed because of you, that these are only men can be a DL, because the sexual sensation associated with diapers somehow comes from stimulation and friction of the genital organ at a very young age in a diaper, which causes the brain to develop something very primitive to want a diaper, something that, technically, does not happen with women or should not happen for obvious reasons. And this is the reason that from the very, very basic tests I did, a lot of DL, these are children who were weaned at a relatively late age, 3, 4 and even 5. Then they develop the desire to wear a diaper, and at the age of 13 or so, it develops into something sexual. And that is why women are not DL, because the stimulation is supposed to be a lot more rarer.

One last thing I want to tell you is that the day I see a picture of you with a soaked diaper under your clothes, my day looks like rainbow.

Thank you so much for this!!!

Hiiyaaa 💕👸🏼

Thank you for such a kind message 🤗 I am definitely more into the DL side of things, you are absolutely correct but I do love some aspects of the AB side, I just don’t tend to share them online as much.

So I just started kindof dabbling in the world of diapers a few years ago, but had been wetting my pants and bed (some accidents, some on purpose) for literal years before I discovered the idea of wearing diapers… When I was a teen I went through phases where I would wet my bed like every night on purpose and then try to hide the evidence in the morning from my parents 🤦🏼‍♀️ they mentioned things a couple of times, but nowhere near the amount I was actually wetting the bed… they probably knew though lol.. l I definitely have a watersports kink, absolutely 🙊. Anyway I felt so silly for not thinking about the idea of using diapers sooner but diapers just never occurred to me lol. A few years back I saw my first porn video with another girl in a diaper and I was just in awe and had to try it myself 🤭.

Slowly I started to indulge more and more into blogs and personal ab/dl blogs to the point that I just kindof gradually mentally got myself in a space where I thought that I could try wearing diapers more often, which started off as just at night (when I was 26 to answer one of your questions)…. But somewhere in this phase I realized the convenience aspect of wearing 👀.. I could actually go through a full night in bed without having to get up to pee, so what started as a kink lead to discovering more than just that. I started wearing diapers all night, every night and just got used to waking up and wetting them, but this slowly, and I do mean slowly, about a year of wearing every night, turned into me starting to barely remember waking up to wet and eventually just flat out not remembering/not waking up and wetting myself most nights of the week. This was kindof scary but also turned me on? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤭 sooo I just kept doing it.

Here’s where the “convenience” aspect let me start wearing during the day: long road trips or long days out with my partner meant there was no real good spots to stop for the restroom all of the time. Things like concerts or big gatherings where there is drinking and long lines for the ladies room… I started wearing diapers to some of these things, not much as first but when I’d go back to not being diapered and have to suffer waiting in line, or waiting for a pit stop.. it was those moments that I seriously realized how much better it was being padded 💡 It was a little scary at first wearing diapers in public, especially wetting them.. also especially because I typically wear leggings or short dresses, so there is always some way that it can be seen. I’ve slowly just started to realize most people don’t care what you’re wearing for underwear, especially strangers. Friends on the other hand… 😬🫠 I know that some of my friends have noticed my diapers. I’ve had friends over for wine nights and forgot (on multiple occasions) to throw away my night time diapey and it was folded up on the bathroom floor and two of my friends went in there before I had went in and noticed. I’ve had a leak while waiting for a cab with my other friend and it was just us waiting outside in the quiet and I know she could hear the leaking onto the pavement. I also have multiple pictures on here of a diaper(s) I was wearing for while we were all hanging out…. So like all that and many other random occasions I’m sure lots of my friends know I wear diapers, I’m just waiting for someone to say something 🙊🙊 but part of me knowing they know, secretly turns me on? I’m super weird 🫠

So anyway since I knew there was a really big and accepting community out there for this, I finally got the courage to make a blog on Tumblr. It actually just started out as a personal blog for myself to be honest. Just a place where I could document my progress and share this side of me, for pictures I could go back and look at… I had no idea it would blow up like this. 😳 but I am extremely grateful and happy about it 💕💕

I wear diapers all of the time now, and am 100% nighttime bladder incontinent, and daytime at this point of a year wearing diapers 24/7 and NEVER trying to hold it….. I’m like basically there for daytime incontinence. 2 years ago I could totally hold it for hours like any other girl, but now I legitimately need diapers to keep me ‘dry’. I did it all to myself and part of me can’t believe it, but most of me is really happy I did it to myself 💕

[ficsofabotchedmind]

What is lost, will always be found

Summary? No.

Warnings? Yes, but only a little; hurt/comfort, reader needing their moms, depression, feelings of abandonment, this was self indulgent.

Alex x Olivia x their kid!Reader

———————————————————————————

Things had been going ok, but at the same time things were also going to shit. 

Y/n had been exhausted every day, putting on a mask of happiness, lying their way through everything. 

They sighed and thought as they walked to Olivia’s door, “Why did I agree to this dinner with mom and Noah? All I want to do is go home, curl up and cry. Although I should be grateful, at least they remember me and include me.” 

Knocking and hearing a ‘hold on!’ coming from inside, Y/n took one last shuttering breath and prepared the mask that they wore so well. 

The door swung open and there stood Olivia, Y/n’s adopted mother and one of the only people to genuinely love and accept them, and with a wide smile, “Sweet baby come here! I’m glad you could make it, come in!” 

As soon as they entered a smaller body collided with their own, looking down they could see a head of unruly curls and a wide smile, “Y/n! I missed you!” 

For the first time in days, the smile on their face became real, “I missed you too, Bud! How was your day at school?” 

Noah grinned even harder and pulled back, “It was good! We did an art project in class; I get to bring it home Monday!” 

Olivia smiled as she watched the interaction between her two children and walked to where Alex was, “They don’t even notice you yet, let’s see how long this will continue before you’re noticed.” 

Alex laughed quietly, “Deal, but I’m sure Noah can keep them busy for a while.” 

Liv giggled quietly and looked to Alex, “Thank you for coming back, Alex. Speaking of, have you given any thought to- “ 

Alex gave Olivia a look, “I still have my license, I never lost them but Olivia, if I do come back, keep Elliot away from me. Got it?” 

Liv pulled a face, somewhere between shock and humor from the looks of it, but said, “I will try my best, but you know we work cases with Organized Crime.” 

Alex sighed and was about to grumble but the timer went off, it was time to eat. 

Olivia and Alex bought everything to the table before Liv called everyone to eat, “Alright you two, let’s go. Y/n, can you hand me the glasses please?” 

Y/n smiled but as they turned around, their jaw fell open and there stood Alex Cabot in the flesh wearing a wide grin. 

Y/n felt a tear slip down their cheek and as they dove into Alex’s arms, they spoke softly, “Mama! Wha-what are you doing here?” 

Alex smiled and held them tight, “I’m coming home, I got sick of Florida, and I wanted to be near some of my favorite people, so I decided to move back home.” 

Y/n pulled back with tears and a certain look in their eye but before Alex could ask them what was wrong, Y/n pulled away completely and said, “Let’s eat!” 

Alex watched them carefully and then turned to make eye contact with Olivia confirming if she saw it as well and once Alex saw the look, they knew something was going on and now both women were suspicious. 

They would leave it alone until later, for now it was time to have some family bonding. 

Talking amongst each other and going about how their days were and what they all did, dinner quickly ended. 

Liv smiled at Noah and told him it was bedtime and to say goodnight to everyone but of course he didn’t want to go to bed yet but with one look from his older sibling, he compiled and told everyone goodnight. 

Liv gave Alex a look that told her to get started and she’d be back soon, and Alex complied, “So let’s go ahead and dive in, no bullshitting. How are you really, sweetheart?” 

Y/n faltered slightly with the dish in their hand, “I-uh I’m fine, why?” 

Alex sighed and put everything down, “Listen to me, I know I haven’t been here like I should have for quite a few years but I’m coming back and I’m going to be here and around you quite a lot. So, tell me now and I won’t have to use my lawyer skills on you.” 

Y/n took a shaky breath, trying to speak the truth but the burning lump in their throat wouldn’t cooperate and all that came out was a broken sob, quickly covering their mouth and turning into the arms that came around them, they let all the pain out. 

Alex held Y/n tightly, one hand on the back of their head and the other rubbing their back, “Let it out, little bear. It’s ok, I’m here. It’s ok.” 

Y/n cried hard into Alex’s shoulder, holding themselves close to her and let out a few broken words, “I’m so tired, mama. It’s so fucking hard.” 

Olivia heard those words as she came around the corner and immediately wrapped her arms around the two and held them, letting a few tears at the obvious pain their little bear was in. 

After a while Y/n pulled back, Alex and Liv had more questions but kept quiet and led them into the living room. 

After a while longer, Liv spoke but kept a tight grip on Y/n’s hand, “What’s going on, sweetheart? Tell us, please.” 

As a hand went carding through Y/n’s hair, they broke again and spilled it all, “When is it going to be me? Everyone is leaving me behind, moms! All that happens in this life for me is I help people, but when it comes to getting help in return, I get ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy’! When am I going to be placed first!? When am I going to get helped in return!? When is it going to be ME?” 

Alex and Olivia both felt tears streaming down their faces at the obvious pain and turmoil in Y/n’s voice, they could see clearly in their body language and their face how tired they were. 

Olivia immediately drew her eldest in for a hug, squeezing them tight, cradling them. Alex immediately came in behind and wrapped herself around the two, holding both Olivia and Y/n, they cried with their child. 

While Alex wasn’t legally Y/n’s other mother, she sure as hell thought of Y/n as her child as well and damnit, she was going to help bring the light back to their eyes. 

Sitting on the couch for quite a while letting Y/n get some of their pain out, Olivia spoke, “Listen to me, we may not be your friends or your coworkers, but we are your mothers and as long as we are here, we will never forget you. Little bear, neither of us care what time it is, where we are, what we are doing, come and find us and we will be there. Ok?” 

Alex made a noise of agreement, placed a soft kiss upon the back of Y/n’s and said, “Listen to your mom, she’s a wise woman. We’re here, sweetheart. We are here, we always will be.” 

Y/n made a noise of acknowledgment and nodded against Olivia, and they said in a broken voice, “Thank you, please never leave me.” 

Alex squeezed harder and said, “Never, we will fight to be here by your side for the rest of our lives. You are our child, we will never forget, never leave, and will always make time for you.” 

They continued to stay in their little pile they made for a couple more hours, keeping their child sandwiched between them and cocooned in safety. 

With Y/n drifting to sleep, the last thing they heard and felt was Olivia’s voice and Alex squeezing tightly, “No matter how far you roam, we will always find you. What is lost, will always be found.” 

Alex chimed in, “If we even let you out of our sight, you are our baby, and we swore to protect you. We love you, Y/n. Please never forget.” 

Drifting to sleep within the warmth and safety of their mom’s arms, Y/n was finally at peace. 

——————————————————————————— 

Bonus: The next morning  

Y/n was groggy when they awoke, rubbing their eyes, raising up to find where the voices were coming from, they spotted their mothers locked in an embrace and made a slight face before speaking and scaring both women, “Ew but fucking finally, it’s about damn time and I would continue but I want more sleep, just don’t be too loud if you have sex. Two impressionable children in the apartment.” 

Both women gaped at Y/n and shook their heads while Y/n fell back asleep with a soft smile on their face and a soft huff of a laugh escaping their lips and thinking as they drifted even farther into sleep, “Fucking finally, it only took them 24 years.” 

[fategoflatass]

I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.

So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.

Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.

The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.

And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.

What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?

And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼

GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.

But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.

Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?

And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.

It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.

So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.

[the-laughing-lunatic]

OH MY GOD TF2 WRITER!!! You are my savior.

ANYWAYS I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MERCS (more specifically Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer if you don’t wanna do them all) WITH A MALE S/O WHO IS CONSTANTLY DYING OR GETTING INJURED DUE TO BADLUCK?

(Of course! Hope you enjoy, thx for reqesting!)

Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer x a m!s/o with bad luck (ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout☆

Holy cow is it hard for him to get used to

You die at least once a day but he still cries like a baby whenever it happens

Denies it every time though

“Oh god, it never takes this long, what if my baby’s gone for good? That ain’t gonna happen, you’re bein’ stupid Jeremy. But what if it does? *sniffle* I mean, I- I dunno what I’d do, an just—”

“Hey babe! I grabbed some sodas for us on the way back from respawn, the vending machine was being a pain though. …you alright?

He’d immediately hug you and wipe away his tears. “ ‘m fine. Just glad you’re back, doll. Missed ya.”

Though this guy knows nothing about first aid, he’ll do what his ma always did when he got injured:

“Prince, stop freakin’ out and let me kiss your boo-boo better, kay?”

“Jeremy, I’m not ten, I can handle a tiny bullet wound.”

“Don’t care, c'mere sweetheart. You need some kisses from your hot-ass boyfriend to feel better.”

“What I need is a Medic.”

“C’mon, please?”

“...fine.”

☆Spy☆

Like Scout he’s also dramatic as fuck when you die

Falls to his knees and cries silently over your dead body kind of dramatic

He’s lost one of his lovers before, and it kills him to see it happen in front of him everyday

He’s absolutely terrified that one day you won’t respawn

Doesn’t like to talk about how he feels though, he wants to be strong for his lover

He will require a lot of quality time after you get respawned to calm his mind down that you’re okay

Cuddling, holding your hand in his smoking room, he just needs to be close to you

Helps you when you’re injured, though he does chastise you

(cue homoerotic fixing injuries scene)

“Mon amour, it was simply irresponsible of you to go into the sewers with your luck, it was reckless,” he’d say as he patched you up.

“But you dropped your watch down there, I had to get it back for you.”

“You are insufferably eager, my beau…but it is sweet. Never do anything like that again, though, I worry about you enough as is.”

“Awww, you worry about me?”

“Of course I do, je t'aime. Now shut up and let me help you.”

☆Sniper☆

We all know this guy is hella protective, so of course he’ll protect you even more with how much you get injured.

He’d want nothing more than to keep you in a locked room with nothing to hurt yourself with all day so no harm could ever come to you, but unfortunately that’s “weird” and “illegal”

He constantly wants to be around you to at least try to prevent the inevitable

Even during battles, he tends to double-check where you are on the map to make sure you’re okay, and if you’re not, see who hurt you so he could kill them

He may not have the most traditional sense of first aid training, he mostly knows natural tricks when you’re injured to help you. 

“Love, love, calm down, I got some razor strop for your cut there, ‘s like a bandaid. Fix you up real quick, spunk.”

He wants to take you camping but he knows he’d just be anxious about his boyfriend the entire time

“Mick, c’mon, I can handle one tiny camping trip.”

“You burnt yourself on the coffee kettle twice today. It was unplugged.”

“No coffee kettles in the forest though.”

“Can we just stay here where I know you’ll be okay, love?”

“But you wante—”

“I know, but anytime I spend with you makes me happy, okay? If you’re safe and with me, I’m grand.”

☆Engineer☆

This poor man

He’s worried sick about you all the time

You’re not allowed into his workshop anymore after a few too many incidents with the machinery

During battle he’ll constantly do what you want if it’ll keep you safer

You need a dispenser by you even if the rest of the team needs it somewhere else? He’s putting it by you

He makes you wear a spare hardhat of his in case an anvil falls on you or some shit (with your luck it probably would happen) 

Since you’re not allowed in his workshop it kind of forces him to be less of a workaholic so he can hang out with his boyfriend

Will stay by your side when you’re injured

“Dell, it’s sweet of you to stay while I have a broken leg, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with the rest of the team instead of here? I mean, it’s gonna be really boring.”

“Darling, I’m staying. I’d rather be here with you than at the snazziest rodeo out there.”

“Ach, young love. Now my patient, here is your paste you must eat. It is good for you, it has plenty of nutrients in it, and definitely not drugs you need to take. And your straw, now tschüss!”

“.....are you still sure you wanna stay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, sugar.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[lit3rallyll0yd]

HII FIRST OF ALL I JUST WANTDD TO SAY I REALLY LOVE HOW U WRITE DAZAI!!!!

ANYHOW COULD I ASK FOR DAZAI WITH A READER WHOS REALLY SICK BUT SHE TRIES TO SNEAK OUT OF THE HOUSE OR GO SOMEWHERE ALL THE TIME OR EVEN JUST HIDES AROUND THE HOUSE EVERY CHANCE SHE GETS EVEN THOUGH SHES SUPPOSED TO REST IN BED CAUSE SHE HATES BEING BORED/FEELING SICK AND JUST LAYING IN BED ALL DAY

with a energenic, sick reader

dazai<3

warnings: lowercase writing, headcanon format, however told through a short story. female reader!! REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!

a/n: AWH glad you luv my dazai writing!! hope you enjoy reading anon<3

"dazai-NO-i'm not a child! i don't want to stay in bed-"

you kicked your legs as he held you bridal style. although your kicks were heavy and high- he somehow found a way to hold you in place.

"you say your not a child- however not wanting to stay in bed seems very childish to me."

he reasoned. but his reasoning brought him nowhere.

he gently places you on the bed of your shared apartment, hoping you would stay put.

thankfully you did.

"there we go. comfy?" he asked as he pulled the covers over your body.

you grumble, peeking your eyes out as you body was fully covered.

"aeh- don't be so sour~ you have your boyfriend, who loves and cares for you, by your side all day to help you get better!"

"dazai-i have plans with friends today!"

"post-pone it. your sick, 'donna."

"but-"

you were left staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

he kissed your lips before sitting up from the bed and went to make you some lunch.

"we'll see how you feel in the tomorrow~ now stay put, i'll be back in a few minutes."

it was boring.

real boring.

were you even that sick??

yes. you turn into akutagawa and cough for like 20 minutes straight then complain about your throat.

don't lie to yourself.

you looked left and right.

then out the window.

you thought for a moment before nodding to yourself and carefully stepping out of bed and you feet touched your slippers that were on the ground by the bedside.

you grabbed a small sweater and some track pants, quickly throwing them on and quietly left the bedroom.

you sneaked around the hallway and toward the kitchen, where you can hear dazai softly humming to himself.

you peeked your head out to see him steaming some food; you were unsure what they were....

wait- is he cooking??

he can't cook!

he must just be heating them up.

of course.

your sick and he buys store-made food and will probably tell you he cooked it...

YOU CAN SEE THE BOX IN THE TRASH BESIDE HIM-

since he was distraced- you made your move.

you texted your friends your on your way and grabbed your small coat.

it was cold..and you didn't want to get more sick then you already were.

the moment you took your coat and was reaching for your keys, you heard a sinister giggle in your ear.

you screamed, despit it hurting your vocal cords, you whip around to see dazai.

he held your wasit as he spun you around to face him, almsot dipping uou but the wall stopped you from falling on your back.

your back was arched alittle between the wall.

"my, my what's this~? my belladoona trying to sneak out?!" he gasped playfully. "i thought i told you to stay in bed? tch, tch~"

you blushed softly but glared at him, "because i have plans today dazai! i'm not going to post-pone because we're going to watch a movie! the tickets are half-off!!"

he hummed, "but- that doesn't explain why you disobeyed me?"

"yes it does!!"

you felt his hot breath on your neck as he smirked softly.

"you know, this isn't the first time i've caught you sneaking out?"

you cocked your head to the side, "w-what?"

"c'mon~ let's get you back to bed."

"w-w-what?" he teased, "do you really think you can keep things hidden from lil'ol me?"

you rolled your eyes as he pulled away from you, but held your hand with a soft grip as he lead you back inside the apartment.

"but- no dazai! i'm so bored! my friends will hate me!"

"no one can possibly hate you for being sick, my dear~"

"but- i'm bored!"

he chuckled, "then i shall make it less boring! nothing's boring when your with dazai, hmm?"

he tilts his head at you, waiting for your response.

"ugh, your insuffurable!"

"then you must be 10x insuffurable beeeeeecause" he clicks his tounge, "your dating me~"

[marsbutterfly]

The Boy Who Cried Your Name

a/n: HI!!!! I'M BACK AFTER SUCH A LONG HIATUS!!!! I MISSED YOU GUYS! This story was based on this postI hope you all enjoy!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none, just fluff <3

2:07am > manjiro: ok this movie genuinely seems really stupid 2:08am > manjiro: i think i'll watch it and tell you all about it during our date tomorrow. 2:11am > manjiro: oh shit, i've seen this actor somewhere 2:13am > manjiro: i know you're asleep but like 2:13am > manjiro: when you wake up can you help me find out this dude's name? 2:13am > manjiro: *image*

It's a Tuesday night, or at least it was when you first went to sleep. The nonstop vibration of your phone combined with the light that comes from it is enough to disturb your deep slumber.

You grunt, eyes squinting as you try to adjust to the brightness. Your warm hand comes out from its place underneath your pillow, only to be received by a rush of cold air that comes from the AC. Your fingers tremble gently while trying your best to type in your passcode, though your brain isn't fully awake.

Ultimately you decide to simply shine the phone on your face in the hopes that it will recognize your features even in the dark of your room.

Before it can even unlock, another notification.

2:16am > manjiro: i am learning so much from this movie already 2:17am > manjiro: did you fucking know that you can make your own butter if you shake milk for long enough?

You can't help but giggle at the sight, 17+ messages from Mikey. Before the two of you became a real couple, he would hardly ever text first, maybe because he could never remember where he put his phone in the first place or maybe it was because he was actually afraid of getting his feelings hurt, after all, a girl like you was hard to come by.

When the two of you decided to become official, his texts became more and more frequent. Most nights, you were forced to put your phone on Do Not Disturb because you desperately needed a good night's rest and lord knows you wouldn't be able to achieve that goal as long as Mikey was awake.

Your thumbs aren't moving at the speed you would like them to, your vision is still partially blurry and your throat is so dry that it feels like you are swallowing nails. Nevertheless, you open the messages to encounter a great variety of content.

Tired eyes skim through the various paragraphs, some quite lengthy as he declares his endless love for you and everything you have done / do for him on a daily basis, describing how you are the most beautiful person you have ever met and how the light that radiates from you reminds him of a sunset lit inside of your chest. How the color of your hair is his favorite because, whenever he sees it anywhere else, he feels like the universe is sending him a small reminder of how lucky he is. You smile at the sight of his gentle words.

However, you can no longer ignore the rain of incoming texts now that he has noticed the "seen at 2:14am" at the bottom of the page. He feels awful for waking you up but he cannot help himself. Every new thing he learns, every new detail of the movie he thinks you will enjoy knowing, he must share with you.

2:15am > manjiro: THIS DUDE JUST ATE HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW WHOLE? 2:16am > manjiro: IS THAT A FUCKING THING THAT SNAKES DO? EAT PEOPLE WHOLE? 2:16am > manjiro: I HAVE TO GOOGLE THIS HOLD ON 2:17am > manjiro: I have learned that, in fact, they can. I'm actually going to jump, I cannot do this 2:18am > manjiro: oh shit, i didn't mean to wake you up, but now that you are here! 2:19am > manjiro: did you know that drinking too much water can kill you? I read it somewhere, let me find the link. 2:19am > manjiro: Oh and also that when the dinosaurs walked the Earth, days were 23 hours long instead of 24?

You take a deep breath, knowing that he is coming from a place of love and care but you can't help but be a bit annoyed. Not wanting to snap at him, you use your full mental capacity at the moment to type a response to one of his many, many texts.

2:19am > manjiro: typing... 2:19am > you: Mikey, I love you, so so much and I wish for nothing more than for you to be here cuddling with me, than to feel the warmth of your body against mine, but you know I have an exam early in the morning. 2:20am > you: but baby, I am begging you, STOP THIS MADNESS.

His texting ceases and it feels like an eternity, certainly long enough for you to regret the way you spoke to him, even if it wasn't malicious or even purposefully mean. You understand that, other than Draken, Mikey doesn't usually confide in anyone else, especially not in a way that makes him seem weak or "stupid."

A sigh escapes your lips and you blink intensely for a few seconds in the hopes of stopping your eyeballs from burning. Time seems to slip by you and the next time your eyes open, twenty minutes have passed.

You bolt awake for a few seconds, heart beating faster than a race car, an irrational fear that you might have missed a message from him taking over you so the natural course of action is to check your texts. It would be a lie to say you weren't a little disappointed that there were no new messages from Mikey in that short period of time and your heart sinks just slightly.

2:41am > you: Mikey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm just nervous about my exam and super tired. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I hope you can forgive me.

Not even thirty seconds go by before the three dots inside of the blue bubble appear at the edge of the page. The full sensation of relief doesn't wash over you until you hear back from him, a simple message, spelled completely wrong because you knew he was keeping an eye out on whatever he was watching on the television.

2:42am > mikey: all gpod bsby, u luv u. (all good baby, i love you)

With a smile on your face, you finally allow yourself to relax and place the phone down underneath your pillow, giving Mikey time for himself as he enjoys his tv time. Now, you are finally going to be able to have a good night's rest before your big exam tomorrow. Eyelids become heavy and your breathing finds its own perfect pattern, your pillow is cold and underneath your covers is warm, everything is simply falling into place.

When you are within seconds of falling asleep, your phone buzzes from beneath your head. You refuse to open your eyes and simply roll over, pushing your body away from the device.

Some time passes and you find yourself in the same peaceful vibe as before, a gentle smile on your face as you fully allow yourself to be submerged in the cold feeling of the ac against your face while the rest of your body is nicely tucked away. The feeling doesn't last long for Mikey, once again, decides to start texting you every few minutes, if not seconds.

You grunt loudly, reaching for the edge of your pillow to pull it over your ear. In moments like these, you truly had to remind yourself of how much you loved him and why because he does, in fact, test what little sanity you have left in you. But you didn't know that all he was doing in that moment was being his usual self: the guy who is deeply and madly in love with you.

3:14am > manjiro: oh yeah 3:14am > manjiro: i forgot to tell you 3:15am > manjiro: good luck on your exam tomorrow, you got this! 3:15am > manjiro: i love you so much <3 3:15am > manjiro: have a great night <3

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Some more thoughts Based on this post where you have your soulmates signature and Steve is a bat by @strangersatellites

I'm putting them in a new post so I don't derail it. I hope to I see several take on the initial concept. It's so fun.

Nancy and Jonathan he knows from back home they moved out here before him and have jobs at the paper. Are they are romantically involved or just friends now 🤷‍♀️ either way they work well together.

And they help Steve in his search. Jonathan knows where most of the murals in the city are and Nancy gives him some tips on getting people to give him information and a list of questions to help him along.

Benny has a deli across from one of them. He won't give up much, things good for business draws a crowd and if Eddie just happens to a regular who always tips good well why would he sell him out. Still he does offer Steve a sandwich and a list of a few murals that are lesser known in the city.

Heather works in the shop across from on and is annoyed in the uptick of customers. They're cutting into her down time. She didn't see anything anyway and she tells Steve he's wasting his time. The Bat is a ghost no one ever seen him. Or so she says.

Steve still has to work so there are days when he makes no progress, gets nowhere on finding his soul mate. Spends sleepless night tracing the bat on his hip and looking at the picture Jonathan gave him hoping somewhere in the is a clue.

So on and so forth skipping ahead.

Then the Robin thing I initially brought up

I can see a Steve running around the city type of thing happening because of this. He’s turning into a real detective, asking about all the murals, folks who live in the area. Steve meeting other characters from Stranger Things as he moves closer to his goal of finding his soulmate. He’s checked every single one he knows of is commiserating at the bar by the latest one. Robin is a bartender, mostly waving off his search until he waxes on about his soulmate and how talented they are. Steve isn’t the usual sort looking for Eddie so she slips him the address for another bar, one that play live music, has art all over, tells him to check it out. CC is of course play in front of the biggest mural Steve’s seen from his soul mate yet.

Steve wants to memorize every aspect of the mural, wants to take in every detail but it's hard with a band playing right in front of it. Harder still when his eyes catch on the lead singer and can look away. Mesmerized for an entire set.

He doesn't even realize he's just been sitting there watching until the band leaves for a break. Then he's turning to the bartender, an older man in flannel, asking about the mural. Wayne chuckles, "you'll have to ask the owner about that but he doesn't usually talk about it."

Steve's a little tipsy form earlier as he accepts the beer Wayne slides to him like a condolence. Sulky over one more obstacle standing between him and his person. "Could you ask him anyhow, please?" Wayne looks him over takes in his downtrodden face and the begging tone of his voice before giving a nod.

Steve’s not very hopeful by the time Wayne slides another beer to him either a shrug. He stays for the band and hopes that maybe if he's persistent he'll get the information. Nancy always insists sleuthing takes persistence.

He's mesmerized all over again and feels like dark eyes are boring into him, like this one's just for him. Which is silly, he's drunk and he's never heard this band, much less met the man singing. No way would he be singling him out, just a trick of the lights and the third beer he ordered.

When the singer climbs down from the stage he trips over a light playing it off as a bow. But what stands out to Steve is dark eyes still hooked on him as Eddie dances through the crowd signing autographs and giving hugs.

Steve turns away, it's a lot, too much and he's still ninety percent sure he's imagining it. All up until there's a sweaty musician's chest brushing against his arm as Eddie leans on the bar next to him, "so I hear you've been asking about our favorite artist."

I dunno I'm sorely tempted to write it write it but I've got so many wips already so I jsut wanted to get out some thought because I found the concept so inspired.

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🎀 🎀 🎀

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

🎀 Leo Moons are often enamoured by idea of castles. If they could afford it, they would build a castle for their home. In other small cases they implement some sort of royal theme into their home. Like golden cutlery, a king sized bed, velvet or leather couch, some elements of yellow, gold and brown and so forth.

🎀 Gemini Moon can often experience similar feelings to embarrassment, because of their mother. Maybe because of how their mother decides to dress that looks sloppy or lazy, because mother doesn’t value hygiene and the home being always clean that much. It’s really in small details, but it’s there. Gemini Moon native can feel like their mother is too annoying for her to be accepted by her peers or that she is too often asking unnecessary “stupid” questions that makes her seem not well educated. They may not want to be seen in public with their mother that much.

🎀 Furthermore on Gemini Moon, the native’s mother might not really say “thank you” that often despite you thinking she would due to Mercury influence on the Moon. Instead, she often disregards the native, doesn’t thank them and even offers critique. The mother might want one thing one day and something completely ELSE right the next day. Also, if the mother of Gemini Moon native has two children, she will make big distinctions between them, like she will treat one very differently than the other.

🎀 There a small, but significant distinction between Virgo and Gemini Moon. Virgo is the real grinder, the hustler, the workaholic. Yet, Gemini Moon person might work just a part-time job or try to retire as soon as possible since they usually don’t feel accepted by work colleagues at their job, which leaves them feeling uncomfortable in a work setting. However, I would advise Gemini Moons to not COMPLETELY avoid work since you might create anxiety for yourself due to too much nervous, restless energy not constructively used. So you might seek unnecessary arguments within your family for that nervous energy release. All Mercurial Moons are meant to stay productive enough, because it allows them to have their emotions in check.

🎀 Sagittarius Moons are children of the world. They might not even have a home and put belongings in storage and just travel and stay at friend’s home, at the hotel. Or frequently change their home destination and even country. One day they are in London and the next day in Prague. They could live for a few months in many different countries.

🎀 Sagittarius Suns might really project an exaggerated sense of self and ego. They do that, because they always remember father’s words, truths, stories and they repeat that to themselves every time they don’t feel confident enough. So they repeat those words so many times, they end up with an exaggerated version of themselves, which they now present as their OWN TRUTH.

🎀 If you have Capricorn Moon or even just Capricorn degree Moon or Moon Saturn aspect there will possibly be a separation period with the mother (might be with both parents, but the mother is prominent). You might go off and marry somewhere else, live abroad or become a career person. There possibly could be a period where you won’t live with your mother or even see her on a regular basis for solid 10 years (or sometimes even more). So there will be a gap, after seeing her regularly after all this passed time, you will feel like you can’t truly understand her emotions, routine and habits she built, because of that years gap. There will be a feeling present like you are meeting a completely new version of your mother that you never knew before (Saturn).

🎀 I think we in astrology put too much emphasis on our IC sign being associated with family, especially mother and father. Your IC sign can show ANY ancestor in your family line of all time, it’s really not just parents or grandparents. It can be some of your ancestors (like a great great great grandfather or some sort of cousin) who was a merchant if you have Virgo IC and so forth.

🎀 Also, if you have Libra IC don’t mix love with money. Especially with this placement (even if you only have Libra degree IC) always keep your bank account separate from your partner’s! Because you probably carry a generational ancestral pattern of love zone turning into war zone. Think of Lady Diana and Prince Charles “great love” divided by Camilla, it’s that theme. I can’t emphasize this enough. Yes, you can still buy them gifts and treat them to something nice, just because you’re partners and in love we get it, but your bank account should always be your very OWN if you have this placement. And you know what’s even more surprising?? That your partner might be already doing this, while you still don’t. Even if it makes you uncomfortable hearing this, because you like harmony, balance and peace, don’t be too much in la la love land with Libra IC. So love is not equal money, remember this.

🎀 If you are a Scorpio Rising you might genuinely believe that you can master anything you put your mind to it, which is extremely good for you guys. Like you don’t even think in context of something being impossible, which is very admirable.

🎀 Leo Moon and Moon in the 5th house always remember their first love for their whole life. And might still find them beautiful even if they seem them again years after. They are also the type to be thinking about engagement while being 19. 😅

🎀 If your family members have Leo, Sagittarius Moon, you could seriously have a reality show, because just how you exist and behave is already entertaining enough to watch. And you probably naturally have good banter with your family members and siblings.

🎀 Mars in the 5th house and Mars in the 9th house hide a lot of pressure. They are often stressed out, because of wanting to take care of their whole family.

🎀 Mars in the 5th house, Leo Mars, Aries Moon, Aries Sun and Mars at a Leo degree could suffer from low iron or issues with blood pressure.

🎀 Aries IC are activists. They are always seen fighting towards something, injustice, social inequality, their own partner etc.

🎀 Gemini Lilith can be in and out of job often. Or they keeping changing jobs every 6 months or so. They have a hard time keeping a job steady.

🎀 Leo Moons can be known as playboys/playgirls. They might often have short-term relationships that are well-known or even be the third party in a partnership.

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers with a cold/distant s/o :)

Idea: s/n(slasher name) gets a gift for their s/o (a piece of clothing or an accessory) and is a little disappointed that they aren’t wearing it. And fast forward a couple months later they find the clothing/accessory in a little box filled with stuff their s/o holds dear to them

There s/o still remembers details about the day:D

Slashers giving small gifts to an s/o who is emotionally distant

Jason Voorhees

He gives you a lovely ring he found on the finger of one of his victims, and is rather hurt when he doesn’t see you wear it. You smile and say thank you when he gives the ring to you, but don’t seem as thrilled as he would like. But when he stumbles upon your box of knick-knacks, he understands. He remembers having something similar as a child, even. So now, whenever he finds something he thinks you will love, he puts it straight into your box, and starts his own with all of the things you give him, from dried flowers to small carved things the campers made.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent gives you a necklace, that once belonged to his mother, making it clear to you just how meaningful this is. It is a symbol that you are part of the family now, so cherish it.

And cherish it you do, by putting it where you keep all of your most loved memories. Though you seem rather indifferent when receiving it.

Later, he finds your box, and all of the things in it, including the necklace. He carries it to you and asks in sign for you to explain.

And you do; that this is a stash of all of the happiest memories you made in the past. And he concludes that it is a good place to keep his gift to you.

Freddy Krueger

The red and green sweater, basically just a version of his sweater tailored to fit you, is mostly a gag gift, but he does get a bit grumpy when you never wear it. He gets it, the damn thing is ugly, but that’s what’s fun about it! Don’t you get it?!

Being so deeply anchored in your head does allow him to catch some glimpses into your life while you’re awake, and he sees you put the sweater into a box he has seen a few times before. If memory serves, it’s where you keep the stuff you use to comfort yourself if you have a really shitty day, and his annoyance goes up in smoke.

Oh. Well that’s okay.

Brahms Heelshire

“WHY are you never wearing the brooch I gave you?”, he demands to know. Brahms isn’t big on internalizing things, so when he believes you are disrespecting his love and generosity, he does not hesitate to confront you.

You stare at him blankly. “I just don’t want it to get damaged. If I wear it while doing chores, I could drop it and accidentally step on it, or scuff it, or any number of other accidents could happen to it. That’s why I keep it somewhere safe. It’s way too pretty and precious to be worn every day.”

That is true, both emotionally and practically. The Heelshires being the kind of family they are/were, those gemstones on the brooch are probably the real deal, and you don’t want to be the kind of idiot who lost a year’s salary’s worth of diamonds while cleaning the house.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba has Nubbins teach him the very bare basics of making jewelry out of bones and proudly presents you with a bracelet made of several bones on a piece of string.

His brothers tease him when you end up never wearing it, so he tries really hard and makes another, in his eyes prettier one. You accept it as well, but never wear it.

Bubba is distraught. Do you not like his work? Is he still that bad at it?

Finally he stumbles upon your jewelry box while cleaning, and finds the bracelets there, lovingly taken care of. So you do care.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hero x villain, they usually get bruised, bloody, and hurt after every fight. one day, the hero staggers half dead through the city, trying to escape someone or something, and hide.

their own nemesis, the ruthless villain, discovers them limping about, easy pickings. they begin with their big bad speech w/ threats until they see that the hero wasn't wounded, they were tortured.

hero sees a side of the villain they had never seen before. villain approaches, says, "who did this to you" ಠ⌣ಠ

They counted themselves lucky when they found an alleyway.

Away from the busy street and the chatting people, they pushed themselves into the darkest corner, into the probably filthiest part of the city.

Fucking hell, it was raining cats and dogs and the hero was sure this was some sick and twisted joke. They’d infect their wound here.

Hospital wasn’t an option. Even if they did reach it in time, announcing themselves and risking their family’s and friend’s safety was something they couldn’t allow.

Their apartment was south, too far south for them to reach. And a hero base hadn’t been constructed in this district yet.

They groaned and threw their head back, putting more and more pressure onto the wound until they had to bite back a scream. What a fucking night.

For mere seconds, they closed their eyes and allowed themselves to rest, despite the ringing in their ears, despite the blood loss and despite the shortening breath. Could they leave a message? So their family could at least get the body? The hero doubted it. They’d lost their phone somewhere during the struggle. Or did it get smashed? They didn’t remember.

When they opened their eyes, the villain stood before them, looking at where the hero had slid down the brick wall.

“What a pretty catch,” they said.

“Sorry, not for sale,” the hero rasped. At this point it didn’t matter, did it? If the villain wanted to kill them, fine. At least the ugly truth wouldn’t come out.

The villain gave one of their cruel, unforgiving smirks and tilted their head. It was a game to them. A game that was too cruel for the hero.

“Well, I’m a big fan of theft.”

“You’re funny.” The hero didn’t laugh. Maybe they would’ve. But the blood loss was killing them. Oxygen. They needed oxygen. Their organs would shut down pretty soon.

“I’ve been following you for like twenty minutes.” The villain observed them slowly, eyes going up and down, inspecting the wounds as if it was their job.

“Ever gotten that checked out? Bit possessive.”

“Aren’t we all, when it comes to you?” Now it was the hero’s turn to smile and to their own surprise, it was real. They meant it. The villain had made them smile.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re pretty popular, don’t you think? People love you, villains hate you. You’re the hot stuff. End boss of my personal mini game.” The hero let out a whimper and squeezed their eyes shut. Having superpowers didn’t free them from pain. The villain frowned.

Exclusivity wasn’t a privilege that also jumped over to their medical condition. Unfortunately.

The hero cursed in their mind. They should’ve been smarter, should’ve seen this coming. What a waste of their own potential.

“This is just a mini game?” the hero asked, wheezing.

“My favourite one.” The villain squatted, closer than they’d ever been to the hero and for a second, the hero expected to be murdered with a knife or worse, tortured even more with the villain’s finger twisting and turning in their open wounds.

But the villain lifted the hero’s arms gently, looked at the wounds, made a grimace and gazed back at the hero.

Something in their face screamed confusion. And something much subtler, whispered anger with the promise of action. It made the villain unpredictable and the hero hated that.

“What?” the hero said.

“Who?” They stared at the wound, brows knitted together. “Who did this?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m dying.”

“I can save you,” the villain said. No hesitation, no second-guessing, just an idea that sounded more like a promise. “But you’ll have to give me the name. Now.”

The hero stared at their enemy. Stared and stared, hoping this was a dream or a sick joke. They couldn’t afford to like the villain, couldn’t afford anything but hate for them.

And yet…the hero’s family, their friends, the city…You’re pretty popular, don’t you think? The city needed them. Obligation.

They had to live. Had to survive to protect. To fight. Not for their own sake but for others. For those who couldn’t protect themselves.

“My sidekick,” the hero said. “My sidekick is trying to torture and kill me.”

[techlove-1999]

ok, so… securitrons move around with One Big Tire. while it gives their design a pretty memorable Staple, its… well, realistically it would be TERRIBLE 4 balance…!!! while a big tire like that on its Own could probably balance just fine, we of course have a Big (Cute) Bulky Robot that’s gonna be Fucking with its Center of Mass, kind of like a heavy unicycle!! so i have 2 wonder how they do it so well ingame…!! obviously it could be explained through cartoon physics or something like that… but i wanna dig a bit Deeper than that. i love securitrons too much 2 just write it off anyhow…^_^ so lets solve the mystery of how these things can balance so good!!!

now.. it could be that securitrons are specifically coded 2 know how 2 Balance themselves, or have some kind of mechanic that keeps them from Toppling Over every time they want 2 stop moving or stay Still. it could be possible that they have a sort of special Locking Mechanism that keeps their tire from making them roll away…? however this does Not solve the problem of the robot’s center of mass!! because even if the tire is locked in place, the Weight of the securitron’s body will still, well… make it tip over!!

so i propose an Idea. what if the securitrons center of mass. is actually a lot Lower than it may seem from their build. stay with me here, ok…? ok…

obviously house is too much of a Haughty Smarty Pants or something like that 2 just have written off or ignore this issue. in fact- the way securitrons ingame can effortlessly balance is a testament 2 this fact!! so what did he do 2 let the securitrons actually balance…?

its is My Opinion that securitrons must have their center of mass Lower in their bodies. this would make it Much easier 4 them 2 actually balance themselves as we see in new vegas!! if i had 2 guess where Specifically, i’d say somewhere as shown in This Simple Graphic…

since the part housing the Screen is the bulkiest part of the chassis, you would Typically expect that 2 be the center of mass… however, with it being So High Up on the body, it would cause the robot 2 fall over!!! crash!!! ow!!! @_@

however… if the center of mass is Below that part, in the “waist” area per se, then the robot won’t have as much of a discrepancy in weight distribution. it wont be as Top Heavy, allowing the entire machine 2 stay standing!!

now as 4 How exactly the center of weight would realistically be in the waist area, i’d have 2 say its probably something 2 do with how the Functions of the parts affect how theyd be Built, if that makes any sense... the lower waist area is where the Wheel connects 2 the rest of the body, so the part where it connects is most likely More Fortified so it doesn’t Come Apart, especially considering the amount of Movement that part would have 2 put up with, so it should there4 be using Stronger/More Material so it doesn’t Wear Down so easily. perhaps the material in that area is pretty thick, making it heavy!!

as 4 the part Above that however… we can see its made up of the same material as the Arms, and from securitron movement and idle animations, we see its somewhat Flexible from the way it Bounces!! perhaps theres a comically large spring inside? or perhaps a multitude of springs that allow the chassis 2 Bounce in the way it does? (leaving that outside bit as the only thing letting it bounce would be a bit Stupid, really… there would be Zero support 4 the chassis and it would just always be Crushing the thing…!!!) so perhaps those springs are quite heavy, as they’d have 2 be Strong and there4 pretty Big and Thick so they dont snap inside of the body!

of course this is all just Speculation, as we dont 4 sure know what the inside of one of these cuties looks like. maybe one day we’ll get a good look at the inner workings of a securitron, but until we know that, all we have 2 rely on is the power of Headcanon!! so i could be spot on, or i could be way off. who knows!! maybe theyre powered by cartoon bullshittery 4 real!!!

id really love 2 hear Other People’s ideas and thoughts on this too… i am not an Expert on Robotics by a Long Shot, even if i do love them with my Whole Heart… im just some sillyguy giving its two cents on a cute robot!! so if anyone has different or cooler interpretations on how securitrons can balance, i would love 2 hear them!!

also… thank you 4 reading my speculations as well in the First Place… it honestly means a Whole Lot 2 me whenever people enjoy the stuff i put out here 4 fun, so thank you thank you Thank You 4 taking the time 2 enjoy my silly little works...!!! (seriously everyone leaves the sweetest stuff in the tags and it makes me want 2 Cry Tears Of Joy. who let you all be so kind and wonderful.)

[foundtherightwords]

Love, If You're Near

Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x OFC

Summary: With a troubled past and a hopeless future, Gwen is just trying to survive on the streets of London. When she meets a man named Michael with a rather strange request, she shrugs and goes along with it, never dreaming that she will find a soul just as broken as hers, or that sometimes broken pieces can fit together perfectly, to bring healing and hope when one least expects it.

Warnings: discussions of prostitution and domestic abuse

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: I've had this idea for Michael even before "Hoard" was released, and after watching the film, I was happy that it was still viable. I don't condone Michael's actions, but I can see where his desire for love and affection comes from, and I hope that after what happened with Maria, Michael could start his own journey of redemption and healing. It is what I based my idea on. I also took some inspiration from "Frankie and Johnny" (the 1991 movie with Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino, not the song).

"Hoard" takes place in 1994, and this is about 4 years after that.

Also, big thanks to @wheels-of-despair for sending me a transcript of the movie. It's helped me tremendously in deciphering the East London dialogue!

Gwen dropped down on a bench outside Dalston Junction Station, slipped her right shoe off her aching foot, and gingerly touched the raw red spot on the back of her heel, through her fishnet. "Cheap piece of shit," she grumbled. Except the shoes weren't exactly cheap. Twenty quid down the drain and they hurt like fuck, even after she'd tried every trick in the book to break them in. But her last pair had broken beyond repair, so it was either this or go barefoot, and she didn't want to step on broken needles and used condoms and whatever garbage that littered the backstreets of Hackney. Plus it was freezing. She'd met a stag do the previous night, and they had kept her out until the morning, eventually straining her all the way over in Chiswick. It was almost noon by the time she crawled back to her flat. It was too cold to sleep in, so she'd whiled away the day in coffee shops and pubs, waiting until it was time to go back out on the street. At this rate, she would take a five-quid blowjob in a car if it meant getting somewhere warm.

Across the street, the Hackney Carnival Mural shouted at her with its peeling musicians and protestors waving their "Unite for Peace" banners. Gwen turned away, annoyed. Idiots. What good is peace, when one is cold and tired and doesn't even have a decent pair of shoes?

It was almost Christmas, and a slow night. The nights had been slow for a while now, not like when she first started. Ten years on the streets, she thought she'd known how it worked. Then three years in the clink, and when she got out, it was like Brave New World out here. Foreign girls flooded the market. The pimps and the punters liked them because they were younger and easier to control, but the local girls knew that naïveté was just an act. These newcomers were tougher and meaner, and they wouldn't hesitate to pull a knife on those that dared to encroach on their territory. That was if they were still on the streets in the first place. It was all indoors now, and they didn't even have to rely on the old tart-card-in-phone-box method of advertisement. The Internet had that covered.

Gwen readjusted her long blonde wig and sighed. Sometimes she felt much older than her thirty-one years.

She put her shoe back on with a grimace. Perhaps she could try her luck up the road, near the Shacklewell Arms. Her friend Medusa worked that corner, and sometimes she would let Gwen stay with her so they could team up against the new girls.

Medusa's real name was Melissa, but all girls needed some exotic street names. For Halloween one year, back when they were both younger and sillier and full of hope, Gwen had even helped her attach plastic snake's heads to her dreads, both giggling like mad.

Gwen took the backstreets to avoid the twinkling lights, the sound of Christmas music, and the scents of evergreen and cinnamon that spilled out from every door and shop window. They depressed her. Her feet would not thank her for the detour, but her heart would.

By the time she reached the Arms, she was sure her blister had burst and was bleeding. Some indie band had just finished their gig, and the front of the pub was crawling with people. Gwen peered into the crowd, trying to make out Medusa's statuesque form. As she spied Medusa's dreads swinging to and fro, Gwen opened her mouth to call her friend. Her eyes fell on the man next to Medusa, and the call died in her throat. It was Medusa's boyfriend and pimp, Nico.

Despite Medusa's insistence that Nico was "not that bad", Gwen knew better than to face him. At best, he would cajole her into coming to work for him, and at worst he would threaten and force her. Gwen knew what it was like to tie yourself to a man. Usually, she could chase Nico off with a few choice words, but in her current state, cold, exhausted, and irritated, she had no strength to deal with him. She beat a quick retreat.

And collided with someone.

It was a man coming out of one of the cheaper and seedier establishments that lined the back alleys behind Shacklewell Lane. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

"'s alright," Gwen said. And, because he was a man and she was working, she added, out of professional habit, "You looking for company?"

"No, thank you," the man said, a little too quickly, and started to walk away. A few steps, then he seemed to have second thoughts and turned back. "How much?" he asked.

Gwen gave him the once-over. He was probably in his mid-thirties, medium built, dressed in old jeans, an older jumper, and sturdy boots. A working man, then, not a tourist or an out-of-towner looking for some cheap thrills. Not her ideal client, but beggars cannot be choosers.

She told him her hourly rate. "Forty quid and I'll do whatever you want, darling." It wasn't high, all things considered, but it wasn't cheap either. She had her dignity.

The man shook his head. "That's—that's out of my—sorry." He turned away again.

Gwen slumped against a brick wall with a sigh. Maybe she should call it a night. The prospect of her cold flat with its empty fridge was not very welcoming though. Maybe she could find Medusa again. She was desperate enough to even risk Nico.

As she struggled to her feet, she staggered backward and collided, for the second time that night, with someone. This time it was a little girl who was coming out of a doorway with her mother. The girl was holding to the hem of her mother's coat with one hand and in the other was a teddy, which she dropped to the ground.

"Sorry," Gwen said. She quickly picked up the teddy, dusted it off, and handed it to the girl with a smile. "Here you go, love."

The girl stared back at Gwen with enormous eyes but said nothing and made no move to take her teddy. The mother snatched the toy back. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you slag!" she snarled. "And stay away from my kid."

"You watch where you're going!" Gwen spat. "What are you doing, dragging a kid out on the street this late anyway? She should be in bed!"

The mother's nostrils flared. "Don't tell me how to raise my own kid! What does a slut like you know about being a mother?" With that, she snatched the kid up in her arms and stormed off. Swallowing her anger, Gwen walked away in the opposite direction.

A moment later, a wail from the little girl caused Gwen to turn back, just in time to see the woman yank the teddy out of her hand and toss it into the nearest bin.

An inexplicable fury prompted Gwen to chase after them despite her blister, not even knowing what she would do if she caught them, but the woman turned down a side street and disappeared. Only the teddy stared up at Gwen from the bin with a rather mournful look, or so she imagined.

She picked it up and straightened up the bowtie around its neck. "I know more about being a mother than that bitch," she said to the teddy, and, without knowing why, she put it in her bag.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see the man who had rejected her still standing at the mouth of the alley, watching her with a strange expression. Something in his dark eyes made blood rush to her cheeks, and she growled, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

He approached her slowly. "Forty an hour, you say?"

She stood up a little straighter. "Yeah."

"And you'll do whatever I want?"

"Within reasons," she said warily.

"Where can we go?"

"You have a car?" He shook his head. "Well, then that depends on what you have in mind," she said. "Even an alleyway would do, though I have to tell you, I'm not keen on getting any more blisters tonight." He colored slightly, and Gwen found herself wondering if this was his first time. She glanced at his hand. No ring. But then again, this type always takes care to leave their ring at home, don't they?

"My flat's not far from here," he said. "Do you mind—?"

Gwen hesitated. She made it a point never to go with a customer to a place she was unfamiliar with. Too risky. But she was cold and tired and just wanted to get this done.

She scrutinized the man, more carefully this time. He had dark hair pushed away from his forehead in soft curls, and a face that, had she been feeling better, she would have found quite handsome. What really struck her, though, were his eyes. They were dark and large, fringed by ridiculously long lashes, which made him look almost boyish. Gwen, who had to rely on false lashes and mascara to get such a doe-eyed look, stared at those lashes enviously. Noticing her scrutiny, he glanced at her briefly and looked away again. That shy, beseeching look finally cinched it for her.

"Alright," she said. "But cash up front."

"Fair enough." He opened his wallet and handed her some crumpled fivers and a tenner. Gwen counted them carefully before stuffing them into her bag. She also checked that her pepper spray was still in her bag—no matter how unassuming the man looked, or how sad his eyes were, she had to be careful. Technically, it was illegal to carry pepper spray, but Gwen never let a small thing like legality stop her.

Her fingers brushed across a little card, and Gwen paused momentarily. She'd been given that card by a group of women who roamed the area in twos and threes, who might be mistaken for working girls at first glance. She supposed that was their disguise. They were a non-profit helping to get women off the streets, they said. Give us a call anytime, they said. Gwen had scoffed at their optimism, yet for some reason, she still held on to their card. 

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"What do you want it to be?" she said, again out of habit, too tired to actually be coquettish. The man raised his eyebrows at her, and Gwen relented. "You can call me Queenie." Medusa wasn't the only girl with a ridiculous street name.

She didn't ask his name. She didn't care.

They went down Shacklewell Lane, away from the bright lights and loud noises of the Arms, crossed the A10, and through some side street lined with terraced houses. Then the houses gave way to chippies, greasy spoons, Laundromats, and off-licenses. Gwen was whimpering by the time they reached a block of council flats, its brown brick façade the color of dry blood under the dim streetlamps.

"You all right?" the man asked, glancing at her.

"How far up?" Gwen managed, looking up at the looming building, trying to calculate how quickly she could run out of there, if necessary.

"Fifth floor."

She let out an involuntary groan. The man looked at her for a moment. And then, before she realized what he was doing, he scooped her up in his arms in one smooth movement and carried her up the stairs, bridal style.

"Do you mind?!" she protested. The man said nothing, only kept walking.

Gwen tried to wriggle out, but she was too tired and his arms were too strong, and after a moment, she gave up and leaned her head against his shoulder. He smelled, not unpleasantly, of soap and sweat and rollies, and she found herself pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in his human scent, to purge from her memories the stench of piss and stale beer and rubbish that had assaulted her all through the night.

For all his strength, the man was panting a little by the time they arrived at his door. He set Gwen down on her feet and fumbled with the lock. The moment they were through the door, she collapsed on the nearest available surface, which happened to be an old, rather threadbare sofa, and pulled her shoes off.

"Take it from me," she said. "Never wear heels."

He seemed amused. "OK, I won't." He went about flipping on the lights. "Do you want some Epsom salt for that?"

"Nah, I've had worse."

The man disappeared behind a door down the hall—the bathroom, she supposed—and emerged a second later with a plaster. He then knelt in front of her, rolled down her right stocking and lifted her foot into his lap, not in a sensual or seductive way, but rather matter-of-factly, and stuck the plaster on her heel, like a parent cleaning up a child's skinned knee. This done, he pulled out the sofa and made a bed on it, still in that same matter-of-fact manner.

Something rolled out from under the sofa—a piece of Lego. Gwen's eyebrow went up. Following her eyes, the man saw the Lego as well and turned red. He quickly kicked it back under the sofa and went on making the bed as if nothing had happened. Well, if he wasn't going to say anything, then she certainly wouldn't either.

"Right," she said, rolling down her other stocking. "Let's get started, shall we?"

He turned toward her, looking alarmed. "No, no, no," he said and put his hand over Gwen's, stopping her. "Clothes on, please."

Gwen tilted her head. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to keep her clothes on, though it was rare enough that it still came as a surprise. She wasn't keen on having her dress all wrinkled and stained. It would be a nightmare to get it clean. But she pulled her fishnets back up anyway

The man sat down next to her on the sofa bed, sheepishly avoiding her eyes. "I'm Michael, by the way," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Michael," Gwen said, because that's what one is supposed to say when someone introduces themselves.

"Would you like something to drink? Cup of tea?"

If he'd offered her some wine or whiskey or even beer, she might have accepted, but tea was probably the least erotic drink Gwen could think of. "No, thanks," she said. She didn't trust him not to slip her a Mickey—hey, Mickey and Michael, that's rich, she thought, chuckling to herself. When Michael didn't say anything, she reminded him, "You only paid me for an hour."

"Could you—" he began, looking down at a spot on the scuffed floor. "Would you mind—could you just hold me?"

Is that it? Gwen had to stop herself from grinning. This really was his first time then, poor lamb. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him. "Like this?" she whispered into his ear. Michael nodded and eased them both down on the bed until they were spooning, with her behind him, so she couldn't see his eyes. "What else do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Just this."

Gwen frowned. "What?"

"Just hold me like this, please."

She sat up to look at him properly. He was lying on his side with his eyes open, staring not at her but at something or somewhere else, miles away.

"You're not going to make me put a giant diaper on you and breastfeed you, are you?" Medusa had once met a punter with that request. It had been part of the reason why she'd decided to work for Nico, so she could avoid another awkward situation like that, though, in Gwen's mind, it was rather like out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Michael turned to her. "What?"

"You don't want to tie me up, and you don't want me to tie you up?"

"No."

"You don't even want to have sex?"

He blushed again. "No."

"So let me get this straight," she said. "You're paying me forty quid to—spoon you?"

"Yeah." He sat up as well. "Look, if you're not comfortable with it, I understand. I'll pay you for your time, and then you can go."

She considered. As far as requests went, it was an odd one, but certainly not the strangest she'd had. And it sounded innocent enough—perhaps the most innocent of all. Still, she would not be lulled into a sense of safety. She pulled her bag a little closer to make sure she could reach inside and get the pepper spray if necessary. Her shoes would be a write-off—she could run faster barefoot anyway.

"Just—hold you?" she asked again, wanting to make sure. "For an hour?"

He looked up at her with those dark eyes, imploring, infinitely sad, like those of a lost child or a dying animal, and Gwen felt her heart stumble. "Yes, please," he said.

"I'm not charging you the full rate just for a bit of cuddle!"

"It's OK, really. I don't mind."

"I do," she insisted. "It's about being professional. What do you do for a living?"

He seemed taken aback by her question, but he answered anyway. "I'm a cleaner. At St. Mary's Hospital." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "Used to be a bin man. But I couldn't take the stink anymore."

Something in the way he said it made Gwen think that there were other reasons besides the stink for him to give up being a bin man, but it was none of her business. "You wouldn't take the full wage for cleaning half the hospital, would you?" she asked.

Something like a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I guess not."

"OK, so let's say twenty an hour, and we have a deal."

A moment's hesitation, and he extended a hand. They shook on it. His hand was warm, his grip strong and steady, and Gwen wondered why such a man could be so alone, and so lonely.

She made to give him back the twenty quid, but he pushed her hand away. "Keep it. I may ask you to stay longer."

"All right," she said, tucking the bills into her bra. "No funny business, mind."

"No."

She lay back down and put one arm around him again, leaving the other free so he couldn't easily pin her under him. "Is this OK?" she asked.

"It's fine," he said. "You don't have to do anything. Just—be natural."

Natural. Gwen wasn't even sure if she remembered how to be natural in bed anymore. She knew how to be enthusiastic, how to be dominant or submissive, how to be seductive, even how to be afraid. But natural? She no longer knew what that meant.  

The minutes ticked by.

While they lay there, Gwen let her eyes wander around, trying to find some clues that might point to danger. She saw a sparsely furnished flat, similar to her own. There were only the sofa bed, a coffee table, and a TV taking up the front room, a kitchenette to the side, and two closed doors, one leading to the bathroom, the other she had no idea. She saw more evidence of a kid—childish drawings on the fridge door, a small toothbrush, a bowl of half-eaten cereal on the coffee table. If he had a kid, she certainly hoped the kid wasn't locked in that spare room.

Her wandering eyes returned to Michael. He had taken his jumper off and was now in a vest. There was a tattoo on his bicep. "Who's Billy?" she asked.

"Mate of mine, from school," he said in a small voice. "He OD'ed."

"Shit," she said. And then, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." His hand found hers, clasped it to his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling away.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Your hand's cold. I was just trying to warm it up."

"I would've worn a coat, but unfortunately it doesn't go with this outfit," she joked. Her only warm coat would've covered up what she was trying to sell. She left her hand in his, feeling the heavy thump of his heart under her palm. He nestled into her with a sigh, but she remained stiff, keeping some distance between her chest and his back, so she could bolt at the first sign of danger.

But it never came. Instead, his breath evened out, and soon he was asleep.

Gwen must have dozed off as well, for she remembered jolting awake. Michael was still sleeping, holding her hand to his chest as if afraid she would fly off if he let go.

This could be her chance. After making sure Michael was sound asleep, Gwen carefully slid her hand out of his grasp, got out of bed, and tiptoed down the hall. She opened two closed doors. One was a bathroom, just as she suspected. The other was a bedroom, a kid's bedroom, painted in bright, buttery yellow, with a frilly little bed and cheerful toys and books piled on the shelves, a complete contrast to the sad, gray flat outside.

Gwen's feet took her into the room almost of their own volition. She gazed about, a strange melancholy washing over her. No, there wasn't anything strange about this sadness. She knew exactly where it was coming from; she just didn't want to think about it.

There was a framed photo on the bedside table, and she picked it up—it was of Michael, smiling a big, happy smile, carrying on his shoulder a little girl of about two or three years old, who had his same brown curls and his chocolate button eyes.

"What are you doing?" said his voice behind her.

She jumped and dropped the picture, which landed safely on the bed.

"Sorry," she said, fumbling to pick up the frame. "I was looking for the—uh, bathroom. I didn't mean to snoop."

"It's OK." He didn't look angry, only a little awkward, like she had stumbled on an embarrassing secret. It emboldened her.

"This your kid's room?" she asked.

"Yeah." He took the picture frame from her and set it back on the table. "She lives with her mum. I only have her on weekends and when her mum has to work nights, but I try to keep the room nice and clean for her," he explained.

Gwen let out a small breath and reminded herself to stop watching so much The Bill. From the way he had been so secretive about it, she was expecting something tragic. She was glad it wasn't.

"That her?" She nodded at the picture.

A ghost of a proud smile hovered over Michael's lips. "Her name's Amelia."

"Pretty name. Suits her."

"Don't let that face fool you, she's a little terror."

"How old is she?"

"Turning four soon."

"Oh, that's a great age," Gwen said without thinking. "That's when you can start to have a real conversation with them, and it's so fun."

"It is." Michael looked at her sharply. "Have you got a kid?"

For a moment, Gwen considered telling him the truth. It felt so nice, so normal, to talk in that cheery little room, as if sunshine had been stored in its bright yellow paint and the warmth of it was seeping into her, chasing away the cold of those long, lonely nights out on the street. She wanted to hold on to that feeling a little longer.

But she was here to work, not to have a heart-to-heart like she was on some bloody chat show.

"No," she lied.

"Because you sound like you know kids," he said.

Anger pricked at Gwen's insides. Who did this punter think he was?

"It's none of your business," she snapped. Michael continued to stare at her, and the intensity of his eyes forced her to look away. The flat was closing in on her, suffocating her, like her old prison cell. She couldn't breathe. She had to get out of here, get away from this strange man whose eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul.

She grabbed her bag. "I have to go."

Michael glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised. "But I paid you for two hours."

"Here." She tossed the money on the bed, picked up her shoes, and all but ran. He caught her at the door.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just have to go."

"Don't do this," he said, clutching at her arm like a child afraid of being separated from its mother. "Don't leave. Please." The pleading note in his voice now sounded more like a command. That voice, the hard grip of his hand, and the dark glint in his eyes awoke something savage within Gwen, a cold fury she hadn't felt in years.

"Let me go," she said quietly, "or I'll kill you."

He dropped her arm in an instant. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his eyes glistening with what looked like tears. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you—I just don't know how to—"

As suddenly as it appeared, Gwen's anger vanished. She couldn't afford to lose her temper like that.

"It's fine," she said. "Just let me—"

Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. "Michael?" said a voice on the other side. "You in?" A woman's voice.

Michael turned to Gwen, his eyes enormous on his pale face. "Hide," he mouthed to her.

A part of Gwen wanted to be defiant and face whoever was at the door—a wife? A girlfriend?—so she could watch Michael squirm, but another part of her took pity on his panic. Rolling her eyes, she made her way into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"Leah," she heard Michael say, as he opened the front door. "What's wrong? Is Amelia all right?"

Peeking through a crack of the bedroom door, Gwen saw a woman standing in the doorway. She had auburn hair pulled into a tight bun and a scowling, disapproving expression that seemed terminal. A little girl was asleep in her arms.

These must be his ex and their daughter then. Gwen retreated into the shadow of the room, feeling strangely embarrassed, like she had intruded on an intimate scene. In some way, she had.

"She's fine," Leah said, and Michael let out a breath of relief. "It's my mum," Leah continued, looking harried. "She's had a fall. I have to go to Cardiff to see her. Don't know when I'll be back, so I can't take Amelia with me—" She looked around the flat, her eyes narrowing as they landed on the bills scattered on the sofa bed. Michael looked away, his cheeks flushed. "Is this a bad time?" Leah asked.

"No, not at all," Michael said quickly. "I'll take her. Call me when you get to Cardiff and let me know how your mum is."

With a curt nod, Leah handed their daughter over. She brushed a curl away from the sleeping child's forehead and went downstairs, but not before throwing another suspicious look over her shoulder.

Gwen waited for another moment or two until the coast was clear, and emerged from the bedroom. Michael, with his arms full of a sleeping toddler, gave her an apologetic look.

"Well, I'll be off then," Gwen said, trying not to show how the sight of the little girl was affecting her.

Michael hesitated. "Listen," he said. He tried to take her hand, but his arms were too full to reach. "You don't have to run off like that. I'm sorry about earlier. Stay for a bit. It's cold out."

"I'll be fine," Gwen said lightly. "And you're busy. I should go." At the door, she paused. "Good luck, Michael."

At that moment, Amelia lifted her head from her father's shoulder. "Daddy?" she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Michael said, and the tenderness in his voice made Gwen want to cry. She knew she should be going now, but some invisible force was rooting her to the spot, making her watch Michael with his daughter as if hypnotized. "Mum has to go to Grandma's," he was saying, "so you're staying with me for a bit. Is that all right?"

The little girl rubbed her eyes with a chubby fist. "Where's Snappy?" she said.

Michael looked around. He patted the pockets of Amelia's coat and came up empty. "You don't have him with you?" The girl shook her head. "You must have forgotten him at home then."

"I want him."

"We'll get him when Mum comes back—"

"I want him now!" Amelia demanded. She no longer sounded sleepy.

Michael gave Gwen an exasperated look over his daughter's head. Despite the twist of pain in her heart, Gwen couldn't help but grin back in rueful sympathy.

"What's Snappy?" she whispered to Michael.

"Her crocodile." Turning to Amelia, he said, "Don't worry, Snappy will be fine—"

But Amelia was not having it. "No!" she shouted. "I want Snappy! I'm not going without Snappy! Give me Snappy!"

"Let's just go to bed first, and then I'll find Snappy for you, yeah?"

"No! I don't want to stay here without Snappy!" The little girl started kicking and wriggling to get out of Michael's arms, and there was a shrill note in her voice that Gwen knew well would be followed by a tantrum. Wincing, Michael set Amelia down on the floor. The little girl pushed at her father, shouting, "I want Snappy!"

"Hey, hey, stop," Michael gently admonished her. "I don't have a key to Mum's place, so we can't get in. You have a lot of toys here—"

"I don't wanna stay here! I wanna go home! I want Mum!"

At that, something seemed to break within Michael. Without saying a word, he dropped Amelia on the sofa bed and went over to the kitchenette, where he plopped down at the table with his head in his hands. All the while, Amelia kept crying for Snappy.

Gwen looked between the despondent father and the wailing toddler. None of this had to do with her. She did not need to get involved. She should leave now.

She didn't leave.

She sat down in front of Amelia, who continued to sniff and snuffle. The violence of her tantrum seemed to have passed into a sulk.

"Hi," Gwen said. "You're Amelia, right?"

The little girl wiped a sleeve across her runny nose. "Who're you?" she asked.

Gwen glanced at Michael. He was still sitting with his head in his hands. Odd, that. Why was he acting like a tantrum was the end of the world? "My name's Gwen," she said. Michael raised her head at this, but made no comment. "I'm—I'm a friend of your dad's. Amelia's a very pretty name. Have you ever heard of Princess Amelia?"

At the mention of a princess, the girl's large brown eyes, so like her father's, widened in interest. "Who's she?"

"She was the youngest daughter of King George III. She was very nice and kind. Her father loved her very much, and so did her mother and her brothers and sisters." Gwen paused. Perhaps she shouldn't mention that it was Princess Amelia's death that drove her poor father to madness. "And there's also Amelia Earhart," she said. "She was the first woman to fly across the Atlantic." Again, Gwen paused when she remembered that Ms. Earhart disappeared while trying to fly around the globe. She looked at Michael to see if he'd noticed her bungled attempt to cheer his daughter up. He was still at the table, watching her with an inscrutable expression, just as he had when they first met in the alley. She cleared her throat and returned her attention to Amelia. "Now, can you be kind like Princess Amelia and brave like Amelia Earhart?"

Hesitantly, the little girl nodded. Gwen smiled. "Good. Tell me about Snappy then."

Amelia's little mouth screwed up, and she blinked rapidly, threatening tears again. "He's—m-my croc-crocodile," she hiccupped. "He's gold and has black teeth and he's very scary and he protects me."

"Ah, so that's why he has to stay home then," said Gwen, as if she'd just made a great discovery. "He has to keep it safe for when you and your mum come back."

"Really?"

"Yes. He knows you'll be perfectly safe here with your dad. And"—here Gwen pulled out the teddy from her bag and handed it to Amelia—"in case you're feeling lonely, here's Teddy. He may not be as scary as Snappy, but he can keep you company until you see Snappy again, all right?"

Amelia took the teddy, turned it this way and that, and held it experimentally. Finally, satisfied that the teddy was safe, she hugged it to her chest and smiled at Gwen through her tears.

"Now there's a great big smile," Gwen said, smiling back and giving the girl's nose a little bop.

"My dad always says my smile's as big as Christmas," said Amelia.

"And he's right."

As if on cue, Michael appeared next to them. He nodded at Gwen gratefully and took Amelia into her room.

Gwen was still sitting on the sofa bed when he came out a few minutes later and sat down next to her. "You're really good with her," he said.

"So are you."

"No, I'm not. You heard what she said. She didn't even want to stay with me."

"Michael, she's four," Gwen said. "She's knackered. A four-year-old would say they hate you one minute, then turn around and kiss you the next. That's what they do."

"How do you know?"

Gwen rubbed a hand across her eyes. Amelia wasn't the only one who was tired. Gwen felt like she could lie down and sleep for a thousand years. "I lied earlier," she said. "I do have a kid. Her name's Emma. She's six—no, seven now."

Michael tilted his head, looking at her more closely. "Where is she?"

"She lives with a foster family in Croydon. I haven't seen her in three years." The foster mum sent photos, and Gwen tried to call when she could, but it wasn't the same. "Sometimes I'm afraid she's forgotten me."

"Why can't you see her?"

Gwen didn't answer. It was a wound she wasn't ready to open yet.

Michael went back to the kitchen and fiddled about with the kettle. He came back a moment later with two steaming cups, and handed Gwen one. It reminded her of the tea she used to make for herself as a kid, too sweet and milky for her liking now, but she said nothing. They sat sipping their tea in companionable silence.

"Do you believe some people just can't be loved?" Michael asked.

"What?"

"Some people always seem to end up alone. It's like they can't be loved."

Gwen took a moment to answer. The punters all liked to talk. They would complain to her about their jobs, their wives, their girlfriends, their mothers. She could hear Medusa now, telling her, "We're like trick cyclists, darling"—Medusa was not Cockney, but she'd heard that slang for "psychiatrist" on The Bill or EastEnders and liked to slip it into her talk because she thought it made her sound cool—"except we're cheaper and they get some sex on top of that." So when a customer talked, Gwen would just nod absently and say "Is that so?" while thinking of something else.

Now, having been brought closer by the talk of their kids, she asked Michael, "Why do you think that?"

"Everybody in my life is gone," he said, his voice bleak. "My parents—well, they weren't fit to be parents, really. I lost count of how many foster homes I lived in. None of them wanted me. My brother took me in, but then he moved to Australia with his wife and kids. Maybe it's my fault." His head drooped. "I met someone once. I loved her. Or I thought I did. But I fucked it up. I didn't see what she was going through, and I made it worse."

"Was it Amelia's mum?"

"No." He sighed. "But I fucked it up with her as well. She's too good for me. They're all too good for me."

"Is that why you hired me?" Gwen asked before she could stop herself. Michael turned to her, and the look in his eyes went through her heart like a pin. It was the same look he'd given her when they first met, so lost and vulnerable, the look of a lifetime of hurt and loneliness. Now she understood why she had been so taken by it. It was a look she knew well, for she had seen it plenty of times when she looked into the mirror.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean—"

She shrugged. "It's alright. I'm used to that."

He put a tentative hand over hers and closed his fingers around it. "Thank you, Gwen," he said. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for helping me with Amelia."

"Hey, my pleasure." She grinned. "She's a good kid."

"I was frightened to death when she was born, you know," Michael said. "I didn't know what to do. I still don't. What if I fuck it up like I fuck up everything else in my life?"

Gwen squeezed his hand. Finally she understood his despair earlier, just as she had understood his loneliness; understood it because she saw it in herself.

"Want to know why I went to prison?" she asked. "Why I haven't seen my daughter?"

He looked at her, not with morbid curiosity as most people did when they learned she'd been to prison, but with interest and sympathy. She pulled off her blonde wig, and, turning her head, spread her mousy brown hair over her ear to show him the ragged scar just above it, which the hair couldn't quite cover.

"Her father, my piece-of-shit boyfriend—he gave me that," she said. "And worse. Then one time, he pushed me too hard. I pushed back. He hit his head on the kitchen counter." Her voice trembled. It was the first time she spoke of this in three years. She steadied herself, and continued, "I could've called an ambulance, but I didn't. I just stood there and watched him die. Got me three years for that. Involuntary manslaughter." She lifted her eyes to Michael's face. "Think you can fuck up your kid's life worse than I did?" she asked. She tried to laugh and began to cry.

Michael reached out and drew her to him until she was in his arms with her head on his shoulder, just like how he'd held Amelia. He said nothing, but in his embrace, she could feel her fears quiet down, if not fade away entirely. She thought of Emma, and herself, of Amelia, and Michael, of the frightened child inside all of them, waiting only for someone to reach out and hold them and tell them that it's going to be all right.

She buried her nose in Michael's neck, taking in his scent of soap and sweat and smoke, and let out a breath she had been holding for three years, or perhaps even longer. "This is nice," she said. "I can see why you'd pay for this."

Michael's shoulders and chest rumbled pleasantly with laughter, and Gwen smiled as well.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

Her smile faltered. Somehow, his question made her sad. It brought her crashing back to reality, a reality in which she would have to go back out on the street soon, back to the cold and the loneliness and the emptiness.

But professional habit won out in the end, and she didn't even sigh as she gave him the answer she'd always used with all her customers, "You know where to find me."

"No, not as Queenie," he said. "I want to see you again as Gwen. And without the wig. Can I?"

She lifted her head to look at him. He didn't let go, only slid his hand up her shoulder and her neck to cradle her cheek. As the warmth of his gaze and the tenderness of his caress enveloped her, Gwen made a decision.

Tomorrow, she would go and buy Emma a Christmas present. And bring it to her in person.

Tomorrow, she would ring that number on the card of the non-profit group.

But today, tonight, she would stop running away.

"Yes," she told Michael. "Yes, you can."

THE END

Yes, "Snappy" is the crocodile that Maria gave to Leah.

And of course, it wouldn't be my fic without a Snow Patrol song to accompany it (the title comes from the first line of lyric):