#it’s been an odd couple of days - feeling things in my body that I haven’t felt since the whole 2018 year-I-almost-didn’t-survive fiasco

[wutheringhestia]

standing at the bus stop with the winter sun, listening to northbound by grace petrie, was a moment from today that was so <3

[bullet-prooflove]

Deals With The Devil: Dean Winchester x Reader (feat: Michael)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @cosmic-psychickitty @volumesofforgottenlore @@spaghettificationandpretzels

You, Me & Tennessee - Dean always returns to Tennessee.

On The Mountain - Dean wishes he was back on the Mountain with you.

Six Pack (NSFW) - You realise the man waiting for you isn't Dean Winchester.

Memories (NSFW) - Michael invades your home whilst you're away.

It’s late by the time you get home, the sun is just setting and the orange rays play across your front door as you fit your key into the lock. There’s a strangeness when you step into the house, something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s when you set your  duffle bag down alongside the couch that you notice the pitcher of tulips is missing.

Esme, you think, she must have gotten rid of them when they started to wilt. She’s a your next door neighbour, the person who checks in on your house when you’re away at the Fire Tower. It looks like she’s done a load of laundry too, you find it stacked neatly on your dresser, ready to be put away. It’s unusual but not uncommon, she’s been at a loose end since her son was killed up on the mountain, sometimes you come home to find she’s tidied the place, or left dinner in the fridge. It’s her way of thanking you for resolving his death.

You’re too exhausted to do anything more than shower and crawl into bed. It’s been an eventful few days up at the Fire Tower, the forest has been restless and when that happens the dark things come out to play. Anyone who leaves the designated camp sites is at risk and the shadows…

They have ways of calling people into the forest.

McNally has taken over from you tonight but you’ll be back on shift in a couple of days if things haven’t settled.

You wake up to the sensation of soft lips caressing yours, hands roaming through your hair as a firm body fits perfectly against you, already hard, already wanting. You’re used to Dean slipping under the sheets at odd hours, to waking up to his tenderness, his passion. You moan into his mouth and he practically purrs as his hips rock gently against yours. Christ he feels good, you’ve missed this, you’ve missed him…

It's then that you remember Dean, isn’t really Dean.

You try to draw away but Michael he’s stronger than you are. His arm loops around your, gathering you up close, pinning you against him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whisper as Michael’s lips brush over the corner of your mouth. “Why are you torturing me like this?”

“It’s not meant to be torture.” He whispers, his hand threading through your hair and gripping it in a fist. He tugs it back to reveal your throat and your body responds to it unwillingly, your breath hitching. “It’s meant to be love, it’s meant to be bliss, it’s meant to be ecstasy.”

“Not with you.” You murmur, his clean shaven cheek grazing over yours. “It’ll never be like that with you.”

“All I’m asking for is one night.” He tells you, his heated mouth leaving a trail of kisses down the curve of your throat. “One night where I get to feel what he feels, that I get to experience you, enjoy you. You can have him back after that, you can be with the man you love again. Don’t you want that?”

He arches his hips again, grinding against you and you can’t help but make that noise, that filthy one that always escapes your lips when Dean gives you a little friction. You feel his smile against your skin because Michael he has you exactly where he wants you.

“What I want it has to be given, it can’t be taken.” He murmurs, his breath ghosting in your ear as his fingertips toy with the elastic of your pyjama shorts. “All you need to do is say yes.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[strwberri-milk]

hiya! If you have time, may I request a fic that includes breeding and overstimulation with dom!Kaeya x female reader, like he is so tired and pent up after a tiring week with the knights and reader is willing to make him do whatever he wants when he can finally rest... sorry if this is too much, let me know if this is alright 💕

this is genuinely one of my favourite tropes i?? hope i did it justice i kinda edited this but also not really i cant explain what i did but thats okay anyway hope yall have a good day ig consider this a gift

My Sweet Little Thing

Kaeya x AFAB!Reader || Smut || 3 586 words

additional tags -- oral (giving/recieving), fingering, penetrative sex, multiple orgams, overstim, kaeyas a slight tease

You knew that being with Kaeya wasn’t going to be as easy as being with a regular citizen of the city. He was always working odd hours, helping Jean with her paperwork or teaching new recruits what to do, expending his efforts to do his part to help protect Mondstat from any threats and you were incredibly proud of him for how hard he worked. 

It didn’t happen often that you would be unable to see him but this past week was just too much for him. He would slip into bed far after you fell asleep and wake up before you did. You could feel the slight press of his lips against your forehead before he headed off to work. Most of the time it felt like he slept in his uniform to save time. You wished you could do more, but since you couldn’t even see him you were lost as to what to do. 

That’s why when you saw him appear in the doorway of your bedroom, finally not dressed in his uniform you ran over to him in a hug, assuming that meant he was finally freed. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” you mope to him, reveling in the soft sound of his tired chuckle. 

“That’s because work has kept me far from you. Thankfully, we’re finally done which means I get to spend some time with you.” 

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss that’s as hungry and desperate as you would expect it to be. Kaeya’s always been a needy partner and you know that the two of you have missed each other extraordinarily so. 

“Do you want anything from me? I want to make you feel better,” you offer, the salacious tint of your letters something he could never miss. 

“Only if you think you’re ready for me,” he croons, hands immediately going to work at his pants as he pushes you back towards the bed. 

You lay down on the sheets, sitting on your forearms as you watch him undress. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Kaeya strip down this fast for you, clearly more pent up then you initially imagined him being. 

He crawls over your body, pressing kisses to you over your clothes as he works up to your lips again. You aren’t given a chance to catch your breath before his lips are back on yours, kissing you hard as he pulls your clothes off. He only pauses to take your shirt off, deciding he was far too frustrated to try and do the same for your bottoms before just tearing them off. 

“Kaeya!” you scold, feeling the chill of the room quickly be overtaken by the warmth of his body as he starts to suck marks into your neck. 

“Don’t tell me you want me to be patient after all the waiting I’ve had to do for you. You know how much I missed you? I’ve only been able to think about feeling your body on mine today when Jean told me I’m taking the next couple of days off.” 

Your eyes go wide, realising what that meant for you. You were not opposed to it in the least, craving him just as bad but knowing the ache in your body would be awful the second he got what he wanted. But, you don’t think you’ll care because it’ll serve as a reminder that he was with you. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asks, looking up at you from his spot on your chest. 

“After all, I’m sure this sweet little pussy missed me, didn’t it? You’re already wet and I’ve only just kissed you.” 

His fingers reach down to tease at your core, lubricating the digits as he rubs against your slit. You moan softly in response, biting your lip as you feel his close around the stiff peak of a nipple, licking and sucking on it. 

He decides to not waste any time, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to get them sufficiently wet before putting them inside of you. His thumb immediately goes to rub against your clit, moaning in tandem with you as he feels you squeeze over them. 

Kaeya’s mouth returns to your nipple as he focuses on bringing you to a rough high, knowing you weren’t quite where he wanted you just yet. However, your body was so needy for him, more than willing to take what he had to give you. Since he hadn’t touched you in so long, you felt yourself cumming around his fingers practically instantly, face turning red when you felt him stop and look at you with a smirk. 

“Well, did you already cum from my fingers? I haven’t done anything to you yet,” he teases, sitting up on his knees and using his thumbs to spread you open. 

You clench over nothing, thighs trying to close over him from the sheer embarrassment of him staring at you and teasing you. His fingers dip back inside of you, drawing out your wetness to lubricate the rest of your pussy, wanting to see your glistening folds. He gets lost in the motion, eyes trained on your cunt as you gasp for him. 

Practically instinctively, he leans down and buries his face into your cunt, bringing your legs over his shoulders and pushing against you which in turn pushes you against the headboard. You have no room to escape, pinned between the wall and his body, mouth laving over your core as though he’s a man starved. 

As far as Kaeya’s concerned, he is. 

His movements are a little sloppy at first, but intentionally done so. It doesn’t give you time to prepare for the way his tongue focuses on your clit, sucking and tugging on the nub before in such a way that you think he’s trying to devour you. He brings it back down to your hole, now dripping so badly he knows his chin is soaked with your juices but he doesn’t care as his eyes meet yours again. You’re forced to stare at him as he holds your gaze, tongue lapping its way deeper and deeper into your core. His nose bumps your clit purposefully, drinking you in with each breath he takes. 

Your hands weave through his hair, unsure if you’re trying to pull him in further to you or push him away. He makes the decision for you, somehow managing to push into you more than he already has. The wet noises of him making out with your cunt have you clenching tightly over his tongue, thighs pressed against his head in a way that he adores. It makes his cock throb, leaking all over your sheets as he watches you get brought up to another orgasm. 

It doesn’t take much for him to make you cum on his tongue, keeping the lithe muscle inside as you buck against his face, practically riding it as best you can as you’re caught in your rapture. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, weakly pushing against your lover as you assume he’ll give you a break when you’re proven wrong. 

Kaeya dives back in, this time his mouth keeping its attention on your quivering clit as his fingers fuck into your furiously, drippng down the lengths with each movement. The entire time he manages to keep your eyes on him, not wanting to allow you to relent your attention in any capacity, obsessed with the way your face flushes and the dazed look in your eyes from cumming so soon after your first orgasm. 

He ruts his tongue against your twitching bud, obsessed with the way it gets harder against the muscle. Your hips buck into his grasp, trying in vain to find a position that alleviates the fog of overstimulation that is beginning to set in. The way he has your legs on his shoulder makes it easy for him to almost fold you in half, beginning to grind against the mattress at the wet sound of his fingers fucking you. When he closes his lips around your clit and starts sucking like you’re just a piece of candy for him you lose yourself again on his fingers, mouth open in a silent scream as you cum again. You can feel the warmth of your orgasm washing over you, a wetness seeping out of you and getting all over your thighs as he sits back up on his knees. 

His hand glistens with your essence, so wet that he doesn’t even need to spit on it as he starts working over his thick girth with it. The sight makes your pussy convulse, desperate now to have him inside of you. 

Before you can ask for him, he pulls you down, resting your head on your pillows as he braces a hand against the wall. His cock stands proud against his stomach, dripping so much you think his precum will land on your face. He brings his cock to your lips, knees on either side of your head and tracing the shape of your lips with the tip. 

“You can take me, can’t you? A reward for doing so well,” he purrs, body so excited for you he unconsciously bucks into your face. 

You open your mouth obediently, letting him sink his entire length into your mouth. You can feel your saliva coating him, not realising just how much you missed his cock until now. Clearly, he’s missed this just as much judging by the fact he wasn’t teasing you with it and the sharp breaths he’s taking as he slowly makes his way down your throat. 

As soon as he’s satisfied with where he is, you start to lap and suck around him without prompting. Immediately he buckles, hands balling into fists as he tries not to crush you under the weight of his body. His hips buck into your mouth excitedly, desperate for the feeling of your throat swallowing around him but he holds himself back from fully fucking your mouth. He doesn’t want to be too rough, fearing that he’ll hurt you. 

With your free hands, you bring them up to his balls, gently squeezing and massaging them in time with your mouth, trying to move up and down as much as you can with the limited degree of motion you have underneath him. He seems to pick up on your message quickly, thrusting into your mouth with more purpose. It makes you groan around him, the feeling of the vibrations around his cock making him move a little faster, beginning to gasp and moan your name openly. 

“Archons, you’re so desperate for a taste of my cock, aren’t you?” he pants, barely containing another moan when you swallow around him. 

Instead of responding, you simply pull his length out of your mouth, gasping for breath before you begin to press kisses along his shaft. The feeling of your spit cooling his girth makes him shudder, bucking into your hand needily as you start to give his tip ample attention. Your tongue runs across his slit before you envelop it in your mouth the way he did your clit, staring up at him with a slight daze behind your eyes just the way he likes you. 

“You look so perfect sucking my dick like this,” he praises, bringing his thumb to your lip. 

You start to take him back into your mouth, barely able to get half of him inside before he pulls his hips back, pulling you with him as he lays down on the bed. As soon as he’s settled, you sink your mouth back down on his cock, bringing one of his hands to your head so he can set the pace himself. 

Quickly, he starts moving you over his cock just the way he needs you, glad that you were used to his usually rough pace. The noises that you make over him only serve to make him harder, throbbing in your mouth as you let him use you. Besides, it only serves to make you even more desperate for him, realising that if he was already this needy for just your mouth he would be even more needy once he was inside of you and there was nothing else you wanted at this moment. 

He cums down your throat, keeping his cock inside of your mouth as he comes down from his high. You try to swallow as much of it as you can, reveling in the noises he makes in response to the feeling. Subconsciously, your legs spread as you continue to clean him off, excited at the fact that he was still just as hard as when you started sucking him off. You continue up until he finally pulls you off, easily situating your bodies to get you right back underneath him. 

His cock juts up against your thigh, Kaeya taking it and tracing it along your pussy lips as he watches your reaction, chuckling lowly as you buck against him and whimper. 

“Please Kaeya, I need you inside of me,” you whine, bringing a hand down to spread your cunt over your fingers. 

You can see the way he reacts to the sight of you underneath him, obsessed with the way your body is trying to invite him in. He continues to tease you regardless, putting just the tip in and pinning your wrists over your head. 

“You need me, huh?” he teases, giving you a kiss and savouring the taste of him on your tongue. 

“I can feel it. Your wet little cunt is just desperate for me to fuck it, isn’t it? You’re throbbing over just the tip. Are you sure you can handle all of me?” 

You nod eagerly, trying to buck your hips but he only retracts in retaliation, grip tightening over your wrists as you continue to whine. 

“Please just fuck me! I’ve missed you so much, I just need you inside of me!” 

“Yeah? Alright then, no need to keep my pretty baby waiting,” 

True to his word, he doesn’t keep you waiting. He rams his cock into you, making you scream in pleasure at the feeling of him finally inside of you after what feels like forever and starts at a brutal pace. Your body, already so overly sensitive to his touch climbs the peak quickly, struggling against his hold as you try to buck back up against his hips. 

“Fuck!” you moan, burying your face into Kaeya’s neck, trying not to cum too quickly this time now that he’s inside of you. 

“You wanna cum?” he groans, reading your mind as your pussy clenches tightly over him in your attempts to not cum. 

“I’m-” 

You give up, words pitching into a squeal as he makes you cum anyway, creaming down the length of his cock as he keeps up with his brutal pace. The fog of overstimulation begins to settle in again, your body doing it’s best to stay awake but the brutal fucking you’re receiving makes it practically impossible. 

You arch into his body, trying to touch him more but he doesn’t let you, more focused on the feeling of you wrapped around him, the way each rough thrust of his makes your tits bounce. It drives him insane, the feeling of you cumming so hard he can barely move making him cum shortly after you. He slams his hips into yours, filling you up so much that you can feel it dripping out of you. 

Your brain feels like mush, feeling him let go of your wrists and pull out. You give him a dazed look that’s too cute for him to deal with. He was half considering giving you a bit of a break, knowing that doing too much would totally destroy you but looking at how wrecked you are just simply fuels him on further. 

In no time, he has you flipped over, now barely on all fours as your limbs can barely keep the weight of your body up. You don’t protest as he spreads your legs again, exposing your dripping cunt to him, this time holding a combination of your arousal and his. He slips his cock back inside, fucking you just as rough as he was earlier. 

Each thrust makes you squeak, face buried in the pillows as you buck back against him. The hard way he fucks you makes his balls slap against your clit, driving you nuts as he hits home with the blunt tip of his dick with every thrust. It makes your arousal spray out against him, the sheer force of him jackhammering into you destroying any sense of higher thought you may have as he brings his hands to your tits, groping and massaging them as his nails tease your stiffened nipples. 

You barely manage to scream his name as he makes you cum again, ignoring it as he just keeps going and going. He can feel your body give out underneath him, not minding it in the least as you continue to whine and gasp for him. Every noise that comes from you is lewder than the last, keeping his cock rock-hard as he rails you. 

“Cat got your tongue? I can barely hear you now,” he teases, fully aware that your noises were only quiet because he was making you moan breathlessly. 

“If you don’t speak up I won’t know if I’m doing good doll, so why don’t you just scream for me again?”

You do your best to but you find it far too difficult, struggling to even think. All you can do is writhe under his body, trying to run away from all the stimulation but he just pins you down underneath him. You feel his chest on your back, hips barely pulling out as he ruts against your body. He sighs in satisfaction at the feeling of your ass bouncing up against his pelvis, breath painting your neck as you look back at him with bleary eyes. The sight makes him cum, shoving his cock inside of you harshly before opening his mouth to speak.  

“Come on, I asked you to do something for me. Can’t you just do me that favour?” Kaeya coos into your ear, moaning as you tighten around him. 

His pace slows, each drag of his cock felt so clearly in your body that you think you’ve memorised every vein he has. Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head, gasping when he sneaks a hand between your body and the bed to play with your clit. 

“Please, Kaeya,” you finally manage weakly, words getting cut off with another whimper. 

“You feel so good, I need so much more,” you beg, yelping when he finally gets off of you and pulls your ass back to meet his hips. 

“And here I thought you were about to give up,” he laughs, pushing your body into an arch that would be painful weren’t it for the burn of pleasure from his feral pace. 

“You’re so fucking tight. About to cum again?” he mocks, bringing a leg up to use the additional leverage to mount you properly. He hits so deep inside of you you feel like he’s up in your throat, pressing every single spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

You try to cry out for him, wanting to warm him about the impending orgasm that feels much stronger than all the others but he catches on far too quickly. He compensates for the tight squeeze of your heat by thrusting into you so hard you think he’ll literally fuck you into the mattress. 

Your hands reach back to try and push against his hips, wanting so much more of him while also not being able to hand it. He easily ignores it, not letting it ruin the rhythm he’s created. The marks you’ll leave on his body are more than enough gift for him anyway, excited to see just how you’ll have him marked up in the morning. He presses more kisses against your back, sucking and licking marks into it as you can only mildly wonder where he got all this energy from. 

Soon enough, he feels you creaming all over him, the white froth at the base of his dick evidence of how good he’s making you feel. Not long after that, he feels a wetness spray against his stomach and thighs, using your juices to somehow fuck into you even harder. It makes you scream his name, body thrashing wildly as he fucks you with reckless abandon. 

“Fuck you just squirted, didn’t you? You’re so fucking adorable, cumming all over my cock so desperately even though you’re trying to push me away.” 

Despite his words, he’s wildly affected by the reaction your body gave him, filling you up with a loud groan of your name. He knows he’s already fucked you through a few orgasms, the head of his cock beginning to get sensitive but he can’t stop the way his hips begin to rut into your pillowy cunt. The noises you make are music to to his ears, turning you over again to lay on your back so you can hold him desperately, shaking limbs wrapped around him as his pace starts up again. 

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praises in your ear, fucking you over and over as he makes up for lost time. 

[ilkkawhat]

[Nick Stokes/Reader | 1,723 words | also on ao3 here | I have some of the best inspiring dreams ever, and a couple days ago I had one about a whumped Nick, though there's actually only a few things I took out of it to write this.]

You’ve been in this store before, although you really haven’t been.

“Attention shoppers.”

And you’ve never been in any store past closing, let alone, with all the lights off.

“Attention shoppers.”

You feel like there’s too much space between the aisles, and though the parking lot was scarce you can’t help but feel like someone will emerge from the shadows.

Or come up behind you, as goosebumps tickle your neck.

“Attention shoppers.”

You know better though, having been called here as back-up to investigate a live crime scene, that the owners of those lone cars will never drive them again. 

There’s one shopper left in the store however, and you and Grissom are heading straight towards the fast paced rickety cart wheels swimming through the darkness.

“Attention…shooooooppppppppers.”

The automated intercom call warbles out, having been looped likely not on purpose but rather a side effect of the supposed employee that was butchered and fell on top of the controls, according to the account given over the dispatch call. 

You also know that Nick Stokes was in this store when it happened. He was assigned to this case first, when it was just a petty burglary before it became a massacre.

Desperately, you want to call out to him. You already tried texting him, and got no response. From a tactical standpoint, the element of surprise is more apropos in this situation but your heart doesn’t give a damn. You just want to see Nick.

And you do see him, when your flashlight passes over the aisle of canned goods.

He’s there, on the floor. Face down. His face striped with blood. Cans are littered around him and one is broken near his head. 

“Nick!” you gasp, and run over. His body rises and falls ever so slightly, and he softly wheezes as you kneel next to him, wiping strands of hair out of the way of fluttering eyes and your shaking fingers are becoming sticky with the blood pouring out of the pulsing wound on his forehead. 

“Help….her…” he whispers to you in a strangled voice. His eyes roll behind their lids, falling victim to a void of consciousness.

Grissom, who was standing nearby during this time, transfers a bit of the radiation of his concern with a hand to your shoulder, in agreement to Nick’s request.

“We need to move,” Grissom tells you. “I think he’s close.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod shakily, and become Grissom’s heel, after quickly taking your gun out because Grissom doesn’t have his; just a flashlight and a white knuckled fist.

The chase continues down another long, dark aisle but the sound of squeaky wheels carrying weak-wired mesh grows louder. Your heart pounds harder, and faster. 

You turn back to look at Nick, and in those few seconds you somehow lose sight of Grissom.

Swearing under your breath, you pick up the pace and quickly shake your head between the rows, finding nothing but fallen items and shadows of fellow officers, but you nearly run into the sliding door that leads out into the garden section of the store.

“So…what are you making?” Grissom’s voice, a disguised disgust with equal intrigue, per his  norm of course but you wince as you worry he’s getting too close to the killer—

“Soup,” a strange voice answers simply. “You see my ingredients in the cart here…”

Speak of the devil, the killer is still shopping and throwing items into his cart…

That’s carrying a hopefully unconscious and not dead woman, her arms and legs hanging outside of the cart with various vegetables and meats and packets of flavoring and for some odd reason, large sacks of soil on top. She has a similar wound to Nick’s on her head, though you have no time to wonder what a Nick-flavored soup would have tasted like, as the conversation that you stopped paying attention to goes south, and both the killer and Grissom are suddenly gone—

You whip your head and hear splashes of water, your flashlight locates the source of the struggle below, in a large display of filled ponds and pools for backyard enjoyment, Grissom wrestles the killer and your instinct should tell you to either jump in and help, or draw your weapon and fire but—

BANG-BANG!

Grissom stops and you see the shock on his face in the handheld spotlight that traces the trajectory of the bullets that pinned the killer into the water, and also punctured the walls of the pool that drains away. 

Catherine stands breathless, a wordless exchange with Grissom and a side glance to you, freeing you from obligation as they begin to talk out loud—

“I’m going to check on Nicky,” you tell them, and run back towards the love of your life.

The main aisle seems longer than ever, the lights are flickering on and the eerie silence is replaced with chatter, radio chirps, and distant sirens that give you and odd sense of relief—you’re near the end of the story, the day is saved and more importantly—Nick is safe, for the second time in a far too short of time and this time it’s not dirt you’re sliding on to comfort him, but harsh, unforgiving lamination that you know you’ll feel in your knees later.

“Nicky, I’m back, she’s safe…” you half-lie because shit, you forgot to check on that victim and instead chose this one, but you do hear calls for an ambulance to take her.

You tap his cheeks, clammy and pale and still sticky. He’s not responding, and your heart stops beating. You look around the aisle, a halted shopping cart happens to have a case of water that you cut into, and pour onto Nick as if it’ll bring him to life—fortunately, it works; he sputters and rolls over onto his side, propping himself up and you sigh in relief. 

“What happened?” a new voice asks, feminine and Sofia’s behind you, ready to relay anything you tell her to the rest of the team.

“We found the perp, and the victim. Cath got him after he tussled with Grissom. Nick here, well…I don’t…” you start bumbling your words, Nick scrunches his face and wipes blood out of his eyes.

“I tried to stop him,” he says in a strained voice, one arm cradles his stomach. “Asshole rammed me with that damn cart and a stupid can fell on my head…”

Nervously, you mutter, “Guess you really got cantripped, huh?” in attempt to lighten the mood. You’re not sure if Nick actually heard it.

“Heard you were the one who caught him in the act, that true?” Sofia asks. Nick nods and your heart pangs. As if the both of you don’t see enough dead horrors as it is, it’s harder to witness live ones.

“Found him cause he was the only guy who didn’t run out of the store when I triggered the alarm.”

“Alarm? There’s nothing ringing…” 

“Yeah, cause I used that intercom to tell everyone to evacuate,” Nick clears his throat and adds a bit of deep authority to his voice, “‘Attention shoppers, please get the hell out of the store if you want to stay alive.’”

You can’t help but laugh, “You did not!” 

“Course I did. How else would you get the shoppers out?” Nick almost smiles himself, before he reigns himself in. “That’s when the bullet hit the poor John that fell onto the panel, and I took off towards it.”

You stare daggers into Nick’s avoiding gaze, both admiring his bravery but admonishing his stupidity for running towards danger. But he’ll get that earful later. Or sooner, as Sofia puts away her notepad.

“Thanks, Nick. I’m gonna check in with Gil and Catherine. Make sure you get checked out, okay?” Sofia raises her eyebrows and points at Nick’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Nick waves off.

“You’re not!” you harshly whisper as Sofia walks away. “The hell were you thinking, running towards the gunfire?” 

“It’s our job, baby,” Nick tells you. 

“Nuh-uh, their job,” you point to the uniformed officers. “We’re supposed to come after.”

“But, they can’t always—”

“Neither can you!” you interrupt. You stand up and Nick takes the opportunity to pull your arm and lift himself up with you. 

“Alright, alright, I get it…”

“I don’t think you do, but before we lay this to rest…what if a bullet hits you?”

“Then I’ll just walk it off, like I’m walking this cantripped bullshit off.”

“You’re not invincible.”

“I know that,” Nick tone become sour and frustrated and you feel his muscles tense up. “And you know that I’m damn well aware of that, too.”

You sigh, but notice that he isn’t shrugging you off just yet. You can see a shimmer in his eyes and feel a wave of guilt wash over you. 

He’s hurt more than he’s willing to admit.

I wasn’t strong enough, you remember the broken words amidst tears that fell onto your chest, soaking into your clothes. 

You know it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a small head wound for him to get to that point again, but feel the need to comfort and lighten the mood nonetheless.

"You know…it’s a good thing you shaved that stache," you say, once again stroking loose strands of hair out of his reddened, dampened eyes. "Make you look like you're a redhead, at least in facial hair."

"Well, I am attracted to redheads..." Nick smiles coyly and you playfully swat his chest, before he reels you in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t give up that easily,” you tell him with a soft kiss to the side of his face. 

“And neither do you,” he reminds you with a kiss of his own.

You both stand there for a solid minute of silence, and you lean further in, but the slight movement of your body seems to scare him, and he somehow grips you tighter.

“Don’t let go,” he asks of you. “Don’t let go, please…”

“I made that promise to you a long time ago, Nick. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you, and he takes you out of the almost nightmarish, liminal dreamscape into the best fantasy you could ever dream of.

[azulsluver]

Twisted Tales In The Dark

Ending Of A Beginning        Halloween Event

tw: mentions of violence and gore

A monitor loudly beeps within every two seconds, being the only sound in the room with you. You can feel your chest breath in and out of oxygen, the bottom part of your face feels warm with each breath. There’s movement by your side, hands caressing your arms and hands, they’re desperate.

Your vision was nothing but a black void, soon you regain the sight of colors and shapes. The mind starts to work inside of your body, blood flowing through your veins to twitch your weakened limbs. You’ve never felt more alive. The ears haven’t yet start to work, you can feel things around you, were you more sensitive to the touch? The hands on you have left by now, leaving you to feel the soft yet stiff mattress you were on. Fingers intertwined with the thin blanket that covers you, finding comfort in the material as you try to regain more control.

There’s a soft whisper, something is placed by your heart than fingers on your neck. You swallow the sweetened air and flutter your eyes open, cringing at the brightness of light shining down at you. Finally seeing the world around you, wondering where you are next. But you aren’t in some scary situation, there’s no people who aren’t familiar to you. Blinking more than once when you’re surrounded by others who hug and hold your hands.

As if your eyes deceived you, just what was going on? Your eyes gazed from one person to the other, their faces morph from a swirly void to features you didn’t think you would see again. Their touches are warm and words are loud. You didn’t mind they were loud, you would rather have them screaming at the top of their lungs seeing you rather go through— what happened?

“You’re alive holy shit, I thought you died out on us! That fall was horrible, the doctor said you won’t be able to walk until your knee heals properly.”

“[Name]!! Y-you’re okay!! God, don’t do that ever again, I was convinced you were a goner!”

“Guys don’t overwhelm them, they just woke up. Give them some space would you? Jeez, I’m glad you’re well [Name].”

With little surrounding you, only one person who whines and clings to your side stays to cry. Others try their best to pry her off. You stare shocked at their faces, wishing somehow you can pinch yourself to see if you are in the afterlife. Or did you make it. Your eyes swell with tears, chest heaving from relief as you cry. Weak limbs wrapping around your friend who cries along with you, the two of your sobs being the loudest thing in the room.

•

Dragged and pushed around in a wheel chair, you constantly have a friends hand over yours. Squeezing it for reinsurance, you’re afraid if you didn’t you might wake up from this dream. Your mind is still frazzled, sensitive as you are from everything around you. It felt unreal knowing you’re back home, there’s just something bothering you during the meantime.

A part of your brain acknowledges the events you’ve been through, it’s about the next day since Halloween has passed. An eternity of abuse and violence stayed in the far back of your mind. The brain refuses to go into further detail of what happened, the memory of your body being mauled, people slaughtered ruthlessly, and the deaths caused by your own hands. Guilt lies deep down into your system, you can try to bury them but it will always find a way back to you.

“They’ll be fine, as long as they take these medications every six hours a day things will run smoothly. For some odd reason the brain was fractured mentally, as if some traumatic events took place. Are you sure they just fell?”

A doctor holds a pen and board in hand, your focused on the way he’s tapping the pen on the board. Zoning and daydreaming.

“I’m positive. My friends were experimenting on this book we found, we were just messing around with it until some bright light blinded everyone. [Name] panicked and started to run hysterically in the woods, that’s when we later found them a couple of hours later deep down a steep hill. I’m certain that’s all that has happened, the book however…”

You squeeze hard on the hand, heart spiking in panic at the mention of the book. You were sure the look on your face gave it away. 

You weren’t supposed to be leaving the hospital so soon, but you didn’t feel like staying for another week would heal your mind mentally. You really needed to do something first, starting off with that book and whereabouts. They let you off so easily, you’re getting suspicious.

“What did you guys do with the book?”

“Hm? You mean the one Michael stole?”

Nodding, she hums in thought.

“Micheal has it, I’m not sure where but do you want me to ask him to give it to you? He says ever since the incident of your accident he’s been getting weird vibes from it.”

Staring at the various of cars parked in the lot you blink once, a shadowed figure slipping from your sight. “Yea. I would like that.”

Patina, ah, that was her name. Her face displayed into a cherry woman with red hair and the kindest of yellow eyes. You’re not sure why you couldn’t remember her for a second, the aftershock of meeting everyone and the past has made you block them off entirely. You couldn’t handle another death caused by yourself. Patina would idly chat with you as you’re seated in the car, she speaks of your parents who are away in the state but have heard about the accident. You’re glad they care. Placing an arm by the window, you stare lazily in the distance. Peace, you should enjoy it while you can.

“Do you need some help making anything before I leave to get the book? Are you able to eat solids?” You laugh, rolling your head back to meet a smiling friend who shines brightly at your reaction.

“It’s fine, Patina. I’ll just eat whatever’s in the fridge. I want that book here as soon as possible however.” She sighs before patting your shoulder.

Being left to your own devices again, you can almost cry when stepping foot into your apartment, well, not really. The wheels were fun to push around, going past the kitchen and living room to check the bedroom. You wanted to rest for a bit even when you feel jumpy after Patina left. The book clouds your thoughts, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling. You would bring your hands up to your face, if you looked harder maybe you’ll see the stains underneath your nails.

Sleep was hard to come by, making you face the left and right wall. You became uncomfortable with each breath and flicker of your eyes, wishing Patina would call you sooner. Calling? You lost your phone during the fall, you haven’t received your phone but luckily you had a landline. The idea of calling Patina even after she left thirty minutes ago has you sitting up, throwing the blanket off you to stand.

Feet planted on the ground, you sway and fall, hands reflexively grabbing onto something to hold you up. Your knees are shaking as you open your eyes, looking down at your feet as they move inch by inch on its own. You test your faith by putting weight down, standing up straight.

Was it a miracle? Lifting a leg and settling it down, the other as well, you don’t feel anything else but a faint strain by the ankle. It was impossible, you’re not in the stories anymore—

Your eyes land on your jewelry box. You haven’t notice anything out of the ordinary, that was the problem, you didn’t notice or cared to check. Was your room always this clean since you left for Halloween? The fluffed out pillows. Clothes not in sight, possibly in the drawers and closet. You move with confidence, hand reaching out to check your desk for any odds. There’s paperwork on the left side, it’s neatly stacked in a pile and organized by last names and color. The first stack catches your attention, you don’t remember having any sort of contract paper. With expert writing, there’s a list of conditions including along the lines of life and death. The more you read the long dress starts to sink in. At the bottom lays an empty space for a signature, it jeers at you.

You crumble up the paper in your hand, throwing it in the middle of your bed in a fit of anger. Your breaths are shallow again, fingers entangled in your hair as you try to calm yourself. It was a mistake. Maybe, just maybe you hit your head too hard you can’t even remember what happened before leaving the house. Nothing strange but it’s unsettling, you’ll be fine! Laughing to yourself, you decided to do a deep check of things, starting off with your desk drawers. You pull at the handle, met with a gust of perfume that clogs your nostrils. Holding in your breath as you fan the air, smelling of something of floral and strong. The middle part of your drawer is filled with paper, all written with words you can’t even understand. Since when did you had a secret stash of admirers?

Confused, your hands pull at every drawer there was. The side drawers of your desk: coins and gemstones you recognized from somewhere. The jewelry box: large rings and necklaces, flattered to think it was made out of pure gold and diamonds! Frantically throwing your closet open, you gasp at the sight of thorned vines covering your clothes. A sharp margarine has you clutching your head, holding onto the closet to steady yourself. Craning your neck back up, eyes blown wide by seeing nothing, no thorns, weeds, just a closet.

Tripping over yourself, you reach for the landline just a couple of feet up by the hallway. Fingers desperately tapping on the numbers of what you can remember.

“Patina! The book! WHERE IS IT?!” Sweat forms under your neck, a scowl on your face as you wait for an answer.

“Whoa, [Name]? I’m with Micheal at the moment, he can’t find it anywhere.”

“What?? You said he had it with him.” This wasn’t good, you bring your nails up to your face, teeth nibbling in anxiety. 

“I did! But we can’t seem to find in anywhere, it’s as if it disappeared.” You stay silent.

You haven’t checked the whole apartment.

“[Name?]” 

Dropping the phone, you turn around to face the kitchen counter; there’s roses in a vase and a plate with a sliced piece of cake. Patina calls out for you again, the line soon turns off with a click as you stand by the counter. With your mouth agape you swallow nothing, the strawberry cake has a scent so tempting, it’s fresh. Should you explore more of your own apartment, the thought makes your skin rattle in your body. You would rather turn into an empty husk, refusing to believe they found a way back into the world where you call home. 

A loud meow has you jolting from your skin, snapping your head to the couch's back faces you. Flickers of blue similar to fire peaks up, a feline all too familiar and much larger.

“Grim?” He meows at you again, jumping over the couch with a book in his mouth. 

Scooting yourself towards him, he leaves the book in your hands, pawing at your pants while at it. Your hands flip through the pages, finding the illustrations just as it was. The spell at the very end was gone, a blank page. You throw the book in the sink, searching through a cabinet for a lighter. With your heart beating with adrenaline you’ve only felt during the chases, thumb flickering the tip to light up. Grim jumps on the counter, licking his paw as he watches you shake.

The lighter was dipped to the edge of the book, flames licking up the paper until your doorbell wrung. Dropping the book and lighter in the sink, you run to the door, not bothering to check the peephole. It must be Patina and Micheal!

But it wasn’t. Except it was this strange man wearing a coat and mask, the mask covering the top of his eyes, resembling of a birds beak. His fancy top hat would’ve fooled you, Halloween isn’t over? Shaken by the golden hues that are blinking and glowing, you close the door halfway but enough to speak loudly.

“Can I help you?”

“Indeed you can.” He tips his hat, bowing slightly in greeting. “Dear, you have something that doesn’t belong to you. This something is very precious associating with my friend who informed me of a robbery.”

Sweat trickled down your forehead. You had no part in the taking of the book, but you still felt guilty. 

“Do...You know how to help me get rid of it?” He blinks. A smile showing too much teeth for your comfort. “Of course. Because I’m so kind, I’ll gladly let you off the hook for breaking damaged property.”

Grim sneaks in between your legs, back arched as he hisses at the sight of the masked man. Your mind screams at you to do something, another choice of risking your life once again. But you didn’t want to relive that nightmare, it’s enough to convince you to put him on hold as you swiftly leave to fetch the book. Not minding Grim’s mewls to stop you from doing so.

Handing the book back, the masked man happily flips through the pages. He’s skimming through the very end of the book, his smile dropping as it comes to a stop.

The book indulges in flames, the crisp of whatever is left lingers in the air. The masked man coughs to gain your attention, his expression unreadable. Tilting his head downwards, he regains a smile back at you.

“There. No more spooky stories. Reality is much more better, I wish you the best of luck. [Name].” Your eyebrows creased, words stuck in your throat as he walks down the hallway.

You never told him your name. 

Closing the door, you slide down to the floor spent. Grim pushes his way to your lap, curling up and resting. How are your friends gonna react to you having a fire-eared cat monster? The whole place was deafening, silence to the point you can hear your own heart beat.

When you lift up your head you can hear a whisper right next to you.

[mask-of-prime]

VG: Along Came Vitani

"King Simba, as you may know, this year's Ukumbusho celebration is coming up." announced the elephant matriarch. "Indeed, it is." the King agreed. "Well, I've just been thinking about how this will be your last one as King." she then chuckled, "I remember scrambling to make your very first one perfect. We've made new traditions, and we even watched a new Lion Guard form. We've come a long way, haven't we...?" "We sure have." Simba smiled in deep thought. "I want this show to be better than the last few, something to end with a bang for you and Queen Nala." Suddenly, out of the blue, Simba gave a hearty chuckle. Ma Tembo noticed. "...Simba?" "I know the perfect way to add a little spice to this upcoming show," Simba leaned in, "Could you imagine how silly the new Guard would feel with those manes on? We should put Timon and Pumbaa in charge of art direction, to add a little torture." "You know we've since moved on from worrying too much about tradition? They don't need to make them wear those." "They don't know that." Simba grinned. "You don't think the girls will refuse?" "They're too intimidated by my authority to say 'no'." "I do prefer that we stick closer to historical accuracy, I suppose we can, your highness..." Hopefully the girls had a sense of humor, perhaps the fun event could build their bond with the elephants...

____

Vitani paced uncomfortably as the sun continued to rise. She didn't understand this whole 'Ukumbusho' hoopla she heard buzzing around the Savannah. She just knows Simba told her to get ready to do it. It must've been an endurance test of some kind. Maybe like a Mashindano? Who would be involved? She knew the word meant 'remembrance', perhaps a day to remember the fallen animals of the past? She just didn't know... She perked up as she saw Kiara making her way down from Pride Rock. She repeatedly retracted and tapped her claws on the ground in a wave pattern before getting up to catch up with her. Perhaps word from a thorough individual like Kiara would clear things up to settle her growing anxiety. "Kiara, what's this Ukumbusho Tradition I'm supposed to do? I asked your dad and he just started laughing." "It's an annual performance commemorating peace between the lions and elephants." the future queen beamed, "You're reenacting the historical peace treaty between the elephants and Askari's Lion Guard, speaking the original lines they once said, singing --" "What?!" Vitani scoffed, "Do I look like I've got a theatrical bone in my body? No..." "Come on, Vitani. You can't turn this down. Every Lion Guard has to perform in the Ukumbusho! Kion did a couple of times, and he knows he's not much of an actor, but he still had fun!" Vitani turned away and rolled her eyes, "What does Simba take my Guard for? There is no way I'm performing a musical with elephants..." "I know it sounds silly, but this will really help you and your Guard be taken seriously by the pride. I know you want to secure your place in the Circle of Life... Please...?" Kiara frowned, silently pleading Vitani. Vitani relaxed her expression and sighed. She really did want to ensure trust within the pride. "...Fine, but I'm gonna complain the whole time, and you owe me big time." The princess smiled warmly. That was a deal. She just knows Vitani can do it... ____ The Guard arrived to Mizimu Grove. Looking around at the odd display of the elephants scrambling to get their lines right as Timon and Pumbaa painted sunburst symbols on their foreheads. "Ah! The royal Guard!" the elephant leader greeted warmly, "Such an honor to have you participate in this year's Ukumbusho! We hope you've been told everything you need to know about this performance." The Guard looked at each other with uncertainty, but lied. "Sure!" Shabaha suddenly said. "Though, something's not right, here." Ma Tembo tilted her head. "What is it, ma'am?" Vitani asked, frowning. "Well, it's just that... Traditionally, oh... how do I put this? Well... the lions from Askari's time were all... lions. You know... male?" The Guard's stomachs dropped. Some gritted their teeth awkwardly. "What do you suppose we do about that?" Imara arched a brow. "Yeah, we're not exactly the most traditional Lion Guard there is." Vitani looked up at the elephant, "First all female Guard, first non-royal blood leader, first to be the older sibling of a monarch..." "I know, and I respect that." Ma Tembo nodded, "But now is the time to dip your paws into our customs." "What do you want us to do," Vitani straightened, "dress in drag?!" ____ They did just that. The sun was setting. Timon and Pumbaa took creative liberties in the girls' attire. They stitched together fake manes seemingly made out of various types of leaves -- some non-red leaves being painted in a limited amount of red paint on impulse -- and... "Wait, is that hair?" Tazama grimaced. "Well, yeah, how else are we gonna give off that convincing feel?" Timon put a paw to his hip. "Besides, we had to do something with all of Simba and Kovu's shedding mane hair! It's getting hotter out here, ya know?" added Pumbaa. The Lion Guard all exclaimed in disgust, shuddering realizing they'd all been wearing clumps of fur from other lions. Pretty soon, the afternoon had been filled with unwanted contact when placing the manes on their heads, memorizing confusing script instructions, and occasional bickering from Timon and Pumbaa. What a night this was going to be... ____ Rehearsing songs over and over, wearing disgustingly made wigs, working with animals so different from what they know. It all made Vitani seethe. She kicked at the dirt beneath her. "These elephants and their stupid traditions, needing to remind everyone bit by bit how something happened..." "Yeah, like, why not just... remember it?" Shabaha squinted, scratching at her mane until a few leaves became crinkled and fell off. "Yeah, if I have to get micromanaged over my lines again, I'll just about start a rampage." Kasi bristled. "You? You'll look funny up there, chasing big elephants like a little mongoose." Imara smirked. "Oogh, that would just ruin the show, wouldn't it?" Tazama quietly added, secretly wishing for some kind of excuse like that to pop up. She'd been withholding panic at the thought of being watched and judged by several spectators. A fear she'd developed early on in life. ...That. Right there. Tazama had struck gold. Vitani perked up, a brainstorm forming. She chuckled devilishly, grabbing the Guard's attention. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually..." Vitani perched on a rock. "But... isn't this supposed to be his last Ukumbusho before he retires?" Tazama frowned. "'Retire' doesn't mean 'die', Taz." Vitani glared, "He'll watch the show go right... one day, but certainly not from us." The Guard looked intrigued now. Shabaha grinned with an unnerving emptiness in her eyes. "Yeah," Vitani nodded to herself, "They wanna laugh at us up there? We'll give them a reason to laugh. We'll make this the worst show anyone's ever seen, so we'll never have to do this show again." An uproar of cackling and cheers in approval filled the sky. ____ The moon was on the horizon. Ma Tembo took this time to check with Vitani on the Guard's rehearsal progress. She'd pulled Vitani from where the Guard was practicing, and took her to the area where the elephants rehearsed to show her what she and the Guard would be interacting with. "The royals should almost be here." Ma Tembo began as she looked at the placement of the moon. "...Are you and the Guard ready?" "I'd say we are." Vitani nodded. She hid a cunning grin as she looked to the direction of the entrance to Mizimu Grove. "Very good." the elephant closed her eyes in relief, "So good to see such an effort from the new Lion Guard to rebuild the herds' trust. I thank you for that." Vitani gulped. That was a good point. She'd forgotten how much she'd hurt the relationship between the Guard and the Pridelands' herds after being rude to them all. Of course Ngurumo provoked her first, but she still regretted her lack of control in that situation. "Heh, yeah." she finally responded with a shaky voice. ____ Vitani was conflicted, now. Was she to continue with the Guard's hijacking of the Ukumbusho, or was she to follow orders to earn Ma Tembo and the herds' trust? If she wanted to follow through with the latter, she had to fix things fast. But she just didn't know what she wanted. She cleared her throat, "Um, Lion Guard. Do you think, maybe...? Uh..." "Hey, 'Tani!" Shabaha interrupted, "I think I got my improv skills down! Was just practicing with Kasi." "I-" Vitani stammered. Speaking of which, Kasi approached with a slight frown. Imara was by her side. "Um, so Imara's voice gave out when getting ready to sing." Vitani gawked, "You didn't..." The Strongest nodded silently. "Imara, you were supposed to do the solo!" Vitani put a paw to her head, "This is a nightm-" "See, now we have an excuse to voice our protest. The stupid costumes, now the tedious singing rehearsals destroying our voices. I can't wait for this show to blow up in the elephant's faces!" Shabaha grinned. Vitani was suddenly thrown back into why they were sabotaging the play in the first place. She looked on with a scowl as a crooked grin met each ear. She was driven insane by the confusing events of the day, and it was all thanks to these elephants' traditions. One little joke wouldn't hurt the elephants, now, would it? ____ The entire pride and Ma Tembo's herd all arrived to Mizimu Grove on time, waiting patiently for the celebration to begin. They all murmured amongst themselves, proud family members of the actors about to approach. It was Kovu's first Ukumbusho. He expected a boring reenactment and at least seeing his sister up there playing the star of the show, supporting her all the way, and having something to laugh about and remind her about over and over again. He was fully unaware of what tonight's show had in store... The elephants marched forward, taking their places. Ma Tembo stood on Jukwaa Rock while her fellow elephants lined up in columns, facing each other. Mtoto played his usual role as the Strongest, holding the Branch of Peace. His mother, Mzazi, once again played the Bravest elephant, as Zito was the Keenest of Sight, and Johari was the Fastest. Suddenly, hushes silenced the crowd as Ma Tembo cleared her throat. "We would like to dedicate this performance to King Simba and Queen Nala, who made these last few performances throughout the years a special and memorable time. Without them, our yearly tradition would have ceased, but their restorations to the Pridelands have managed to bring this day of remembrance back for future generations, and have even crossed two Lion Guard teams within their reign. We honor their efforts and thank them for their leadership, as they retire later this year." ____ In the distance, dark figures listened as they hid crouched in the hills that bordered the Pridelands. They took very well to the news of the King's retirement. "Looks like the Pridelands is gonna be up for grabs, boys." said a gravelly, masculine voice. ____ "We shall commemorate the end of an era with an Ukumbusho performance with the new Lion Guard. Welcoming the era of our future Queen's reign, with our progressive casting." bellowed Ma Tembo. ____ "A queen?" the voice scoffed, "Have the Pridelands gone soft? They're making this too easy for us." ____ The Guard was starting to run a little late. Before Ma Tembo could fret, the girls descended from the top of the stage, grinning. The matriarch wiped a brow with her trunk in relief. The Guard looked to the audience and saw their fellow pride sitting within a crowd of elephants. They saw the King, Queen, and Princess smiling cordially, an amused Tiifu, and Zuri and Kovu both smirking at the Guard donning drag outfits. The Guard turned to Ma Tembo, who gave them a polite gesture to go on. The song began normally... until the Guard began to add a improvised twist to their lyrics and performance that came with it. Ma Tembo's smile dropped. Vitani mocked Simba's mannerisms by mimicking his signature grin and flicking her makeshift mane with exaggerated grace throughout the song. The girls picked up on Vitani's direction of mocking men, and began to follow suit with their own observances of stereotypical male lion behaviors: Kasi started to brag with a condescending tone, Imara overdid it with the intimidating gait and muscle flexing, and Shabaha... went an odd route -- mimicking the spraying pose males did, which resulted in Mzazi covering Mtoto's eyes from such obscenity. Tazama found herself growing overwhelmed as the sea of eyes stared her direction. She was the center of the attention, one of the stars of the show. She hid behind a paw in humiliation. Concerned, restrained laughter buzzed through the audience. Ma Tembo took notice. She scowled gravely, "They're trying to ruin the play..." "You think?!" Zito replied, incredulous. Ignoring Zito's typical rudeness, Ma Tembo blew her trunk loudly to put an abrupt end to the chaos, but to no avail. She was drowned out by the Guard still being carried away. ___ In the hills... "What kind of display of dominance is this? Look at these fatherless lions bowing to these sexist lionesses." said the gravelly voice, foolishly thinking the Guard in their attire to be real male lions. "Yeah!" said a younger male voice, "We don't even spray like that!" "Not the point." grumbled the first voice. "They're less funny than lioness comedians." said a third, monotone voice. He scratched at the scruffy, dark fur on his chin. "New plan..." the first voice began, "Forget the king stepping down, these wimps make me wanna take the Pridelands faster. I say we plan our raid soon. Very soon..." The younger male grinned while the scruffy male nodded in approval. ____ "Lion Guard! Stop at ONCE! Mtoto! Don't encourage them -- oogh!" Ma Tembo shouted to no avail. The Guard was still carried away in their act. Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, Simba erupted with laughter. Encouragement from the King caused a shockwave of laughter to overwhelm Mizimu Grove. Kovu, having gone a while without a proper laugh, cackled hard towards the sky. "Kovu!" Kiara hissed, sensing Ma Tembo's distress despite stifling her own snickers from a few of the jokes. She then looked to her friends. Zuri and Tiifu looked at each other, wide-eyed and utterly speechless, until they looked over at Kiara. They gave a shrug at Kiara in resignation. Kiara guessed this was happening, now. Eventually, cheers from everyone ended the show naturally. The Guard, not expecting such positive uproar, ceased their act as they stared on in surprise. They turned to each other, biting their lips. They then shrugged, and bowed towards the audience with smiles. Suddenly Shabaha's frail mane fell off. ____ The figures in the distance witnessed the mane fall from one of the lions. "Wait a minute..." the first male snorted, "Those are lionesses!" "I was wondering why that dude was thinning so badly..." said the young male. Ignoring the stupid comment from his cohort, the first male chuckled. "Looks like there won't be as many obstacles as we thought..." ____ Backstage, a certain elephant scowled at the Guard, who were all hunched in both submission, and still in surprise from the audience's reception. "You girls took a reenactment of peace and turned it into a vulgar, radicalizing display of division! Now the elephants think it's humorous to stereotype lions what with those offensive caricatures you put on out there!" the elephant matriarch's voice bellowed, "Have any of you got anything to say?" Vitani's mouth ran dry, "I-" "Ma Tembo! Ma Tembo!" Mtoto called as he barged in. "Mtoto?" Ma Tembo lifted her trunk. "The play was a success! Everyone loved it, especially the King!" "WHAT?!" said Ma Tembo and Vitani, in unison. "I heard they want to see the new Ukumbusho again every year, with Vitani's Guard as the stars!" Ma Tembo, unprepared for such a drastic change in tradition, and the Guard, who never wanted to take the stage again, all swooned from an overwhelming mix of emotions. The Guard made a small thud compared to Ma Tembo, who made the ground shake upon collapsing. ____ ((Author's Note: The title, plot, and a few lines are based on Mel Brooks' The Producers: "Along Came Vitani" is a pun on the "Along Came Bialy" number. When working on the plot for an Ukumbusho episode of Vitani's Guard, it dawned on me that Timon and Pumbaa would make a prevalent appearance in this episode, and for source material, I'd gathered the plot of the Producers as the voice actors for Timon and Simba (Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick respectively) played as Max and Leo in the 2005 adaptation (another thing is that Timon and Pumbaa actually referenced The Producers in TLK 2 with the "Fat, fat, FAT!" line). In earlier concepts for the past few years of toying with Vitani's Guard having their own Ukumusho episode, the Guard was originally going to begrudgingly put up with Ma Tembo's request to have them perform, and they were just gonna get over their nerves and perform normally despite the humiliation of singing and wearing silly prop manes. This was long before I stuck with making hypothetical full-on stories and around the time where I was just drawing concepts and providing context in the description. The use of the Producers-like plot of the lame play turning out successful against the protagonists' wishes added a LOT of material to work with

Speaking of years of work, some of the lines are extracted from headcanon dialogue in old conversations with friends when we first spitballed concepts for this episode. They were just too good to keep out ❤️ Lastly, you may see that I gave Mtoto's Mom a name. Mzazi means "parent", and I thought it would pair cutely with Mtoto's name meaning "child"/"baby" just feels weird seeing all the characters calling her "Mtoto's Mom" verbatim. Also, Jukwaa (meaning "stage"/"podium") is the name I decided to give the prominent rock that centers Mizimu Grove. I thought the multiple meanings would cover its purposes seen in the show. I'm just surprised such a distinct structure was never given a name in canon Weird way to start International Women's Month with the Guard acting as male stereotypes upon crossdressing, but here we are. I was unaware of the theme of the month but it's gonna keep being ironic as more gender themes are explored believe it or not lol))

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Newt!

@dont-offend-the-bees Sooo, you had no specific prompts for me, which opened the floor for me to write something -- weird. Something that combined a couple of things I know you're interested in, because I've seen them on your tumblr. Something that, specifically, crossed over your new obsession with the Saw movies...with a certain British gameshow hosted by Greg Davies that I myself rather like. I actually came up with this idea a little while back and meant to message you about it, but forgot -- and I'm kind of glad I did, because that allowed me to write this ridiculous thing as a surprise. XD Hope you find it funny!

Tasksaw

“Well – we’re in a bit of a pickle, aren’t we?”

“I’d say it’s more than just a pickle,” Josh snapped back, tugging on the chain attaching his leg to the wall to test its strength. Depressingly, it seemed to be pretty damn well bolted in there. “Or do you get drugged and wake up in moldy old bathrooms with your leg manacled to the nearest wall often?”

“I can’t say I have,” the other fellow – who’d introduced himself as James – admitted, giving his leg a cursory kick. The chain attached to it rattled, snaking across the filthy floor. “Though I have been in my fair share of shitty bathrooms before.”

Josh squinted at him. “Was that an intentional pun, or. . . ?”

James just gave him a smirk – which was quickly replaced by a frown as he looked around the room again. “It is a very odd place, though. You have any idea why we’re here?”

“Not a bloody clue, mate,” Josh said, letting his chain slip from his hands. “I mean, obviously we pissed off somebody, but I don’t know who or why.”

“Yeah, me either. The guys in Pindrop weren’t that upset about us breaking up,” James muttered, scratching his head. “Which was actually a bit insulting, if you think about it – oh! Hang on!” He snapped his fingers, pointing frantically at Josh. “We need to check that our kidneys haven’t been stolen!”

“Our – our kidneys?” Josh repeated, baffled.

“Yeah! That’s the main reason people get kidnapped, isn’t it?” James said, rolling up the side of his shirt to stare at his abdomen. “To get their organs harvested? And I rather appreciate having my kidneys inside my body!”

“You’ve been reading too many conspiracy theory sites,” Josh said – though he did slip a hand under his shirt, just to feel for any new scars. “Besides, I think we should have woken up in a bathtub full of ice if that was the case.”

“Nobody said our kidnappers had to be good at harvesting organs.”

“Excuse me!”

Both men looked up as the door on the far wall, just out of reach of their chains, opened, admitting a rather awkward-looking man with a scruffy beard and gapped teeth, dressed in a smart black suit and carrying an iPad. “Hello,” he greeted them, with a smile that didn’t seem entirely natural. “Would you like to play a game?”

Josh stared for a moment, trying and failing to come up with an appropriate way to respond to this. “Um. . .”

“What game?” James said, rolling his shirt back down and giving the newcomer a suspicious look. “Who are you?”

“Right, right, let me just. . .”

The man did something on his iPad, then held it up, displaying an image of a rather portly and extremely tall late-middle-aged man in glasses, sat upon an ornate golden throne. “GREETINGS, PEONS!” a powerful voice rang out from the tinny speakers. “Allow me to introduce myself – I am THE TASKMASTER! Your one true love, your reason for getting up in the morning, your NEW GOD AND MASTER! Over the next few days, I shall set you a series of tasks, overseen by my admin and general puppet-man Little Alex Horne! I shall score these tasks according to my whims, and at the end of our time together, whoever scores the most points wins the most valuable prize of all – THEIR LIFE! The loser will be killed in an appropriately ironic fashion. So play well, and amuse me. Puppet-man, I leave things in your hands. DON’T SCREW THIS UP!”

The recording ended in a burst of simulated static. The man – Alex – immediately pulled a piece of paper, folded and sealed with a red wax bearing a “TM” logo, out of his jacket and delivered it to Josh. “If you could just read that aloud, please?”

Completely and utterly baffled, Josh broke the seal and unfolded the paper. “‘Clean your half of this bathroom,” he read out. “‘Cleanest bathroom half wins. You have one hour. Your time starts now.’” He blinked, then looked up at Alex. “Clean – what? How?”

“All the information’s on the task,” Alex replied calmly, starting up a timer on his iPad.

Josh facepalmed into the paper. “Seriously? You’re going to be like this?”

“Well well well – looks like we’re going head to head on this one, Josh!” James said, with perhaps more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. “And I plan to win – puppet-man! Get me a cabbage and a red dress.”

[pinkthick]

Jealous?

Pairing: Vampire!Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Summary: The famous detective flirted with a lady in order to gain more information and solve a case.The following week you avoid Sherlock, not because you were mad at him(maybe that too) but because you were jealous.

How would the vampire react?

Notes: I don’t even know what to say. I haven’t written in so long and this fanfiction just appeared out of nowhere. I really should do other things in my free time.There could be some grammatical mistakes, since English isn’t my first language. Sorry🥹

Anyway, enjoy.🙃

Sherlock has been getting on your nerves all day long. He was following you like a puppy at the police station and you didn’t know what the vampire wanted. Even Greg was giving him odd glances.

Now you were in your office completing some paper work and of course he was here too. He stood a couple of feet away from you, keeping a steady stare towards you.

Okay, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sherlock, what’s wrong? Are you planning to stay glued to my side all day?” you asked him looking directly into his eyes, not daring to break eye contact with him.

“Why did you avoid me last week?” He tilted his head a little “Was it because I kissed you, in front of your crew? I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable—“

You interrupted him “No. It wasn’t that.”

The detective let out a noise between frustration and relief. “I don’t understand what I did.” you knew he didn’t like not knowing an answer, but you didn’t think he would be like this.

You chuckled softly getting up slowly from your desk and headed towards him. Sherlock was looking closely at you, eyes scanning your entire body.

You got really close to his face, lips almost touching and Sherlock didn’t realise he was holding his breath. “You’re such a show off “ and with this words said, you backed away from him.

He lets a heavy sigh before with breakneck speed, Sherlock was on you, one of his hands gripping your waist, the other one placed securely behind your head, not to hit the wall at the impact, pushing you roughly against it.

A smile came upon his face that showed his sharp canines “ I can’t believe you. It’s because of the last case. “ he chuckles but stops when he sees your expression unchanged. His eyebrows furrows in confusion as he watches you. “ Y/N, you didn’t really think I showed interest— “

You interrupted him “I don’t know” you looked directly into his eyes.

“All I want is you. All I ever wanted was you.” he leans in, so carefully and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Please don’t you ever doubt my love for you.”

“Sherlock I—“

“Don’t” and then the detective pulls you into a kiss. It is sloppy and franatic, unlike other kisses you two shared. You could feel his fangs, but he was mindful of them. He vans to normally control them, but you really didn’t mind.

You both pulled back to catch your breath until Sherlock leaned in again, his lips meeting your neck as his hands around your waist pulled your body flush against his. Your arms snaked around his neck, your left hand tangling in his hair to hold him in place “You’re such a dick.” Your chuckle turned into a sigh as his tongue glided over the pulse point beneath your ear.

Sherlock traced his nose down your jaw and rose to meet your eyes, your lips brushing as he spoke “I love you so much, it’s suffocating.” He whispered into your mouth as your lips met again.

You moaned lightly as you teased each other, his tongue stroking your bottom lip. “What if Greg sees us?" Sherlock let out a small huff in amusement as he smiled into you, your lips opening to him and your tongues finally brushing softly.

Your body tingled as you whimpered into his mouth, your lips parting with light smacks before you found a different angle and shoved your tongue into his mouth.

"Would it be that bad?" The detective said softly as you pulled on his lower lip.

“Of course it would be bad.” you said your voice just above a whisper. “But you like the idea of him walking on us.” Sherlock let out a low laugh against your lips.

“Maybe” and he continued to kiss you until there was a knock at the door. He let out a low noise of frustration.

He pulled away from you then raised a hand to your chin, tilting your head back until your eyes opened to meet his. “This isn’t over.”

[fortune-fool02]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Salim Othman x female reader

Summary: There was a thin line between friendship and lovers, and Salim was worried that his admiration was risking their friendship. 

Warning: Fluff. 

This was inspired by the song, “I wanna ruin our friendship” and I can only hope it is as good as I hope it is. This is my first time writing for Salim so the feedback is really important! 

Thank you! Please enjoy!

Salim wasn’t quite certain when it started but he knew it was there. This odd, little light that filled his body when he would see her. At first, it started off innocent enough. Zain had made a new friend and wanted to visit his house to hang out, and Salim wanted to make their new neighbour feel welcomed. [Name] [Surname] had been on his mind ever since. 

The two bonded over many things whenever he visited, be it to pick up Zain and getting lost in conversations, making it hours after he intended to, or inviting each other around for dinner. Whenever he got back from duty, [Name] was there to welcome him back. At times, when the memories and aches of his past relationship would surface, to gnaw at old wounds that didn’t want to be silenced, Salim would find himself by her side. Her warm touch soothing him as he would sob into her shoulder or lap. 

There were times where he would be the one holding her, rubbing her back when she was brought to tears from stress. Being a single parent himself, he knew the trials and obstacles that stood in the path. When everything you did was for your child, to give them a future you never could have. Trying to keep their heads above water and filled with hope while you trundled through the waves, taking the rough scratches of crashing waves. But Salim was always there for [Name], to assure her that she was doing everything she possibly could for her son. 

The memory was as clear as day for him, the cup of coffee before him sitting there as he pulled himself from his thoughts. The house was silent as Zain had gone into the town with [Name]’s boy, both promising to be back before dinner, allowing Salim to think in peace. The photograph hanging on the wall pulled his gaze over. It was a few months old. Salim stood behind Zain, a bright smile on his face as his son held up a certificate, [Name] and her son also standing beside them, with another certificate in her son’s hands. It was a proud day for all of them. A light smile lifted his lips at the sight of it. He was standing so close to her, the sun’s light bouncing off her skin beautifully. Her eyes sparkling with such joy. A warmth spread through his chest, blooming along his veins the longer he looked at her. 

But, at the same time, he recoiled back. She was the mother of his son’s best friend. Even if he did openly tell her what he felt, if he dared to, they couldn’t be together. He didn’t want her to think he wanted to replace her ex-husband. Despite the fact he ‘accidentally’ took a shirt of hers hanging from the washing line and it now had a home under his pillow. Or how she had this power over him, to lift his spirits higher than the Heavens themselves just by smiling at him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Still, he was grateful for what they already had, and he won’t risk it. 

A knock at the door was heard, catching his attention. He moved to open it, a smile lifting his lips at the sight of [Name] standing there.     “Hey, Salim. Sorry for disturbing you, I was just wondering if you had any carrots to spare? I’m making some broth and haven’t got any.” Even in the slight shadow cast by the angle of his house, he could see that sparkle in her eyes. Her voice filling his head with a fuzzy warmth that he never got tired of.     “Oh, I should. Come in for a moment.” He smiled, stepping aside to let her inside before closing the door and heading for the kitchen, searching through the food he had. He knew he bought some recently. He found a couple and gathered them, “Here you go, will these be enough?” 

[Name] smiled, “They’re plenty. Thank you, Salim.” Reaching out, her hands brushed against his, her eyes moving up and gazing into his for a moment. His heart jumped lightly at the touch, freezing like a deer in headlights. Afraid to blink, that he might miss this moment. Her touch lingered for a moment longer than it should have, a small smile on her lips before she took the carrots. Her fingers gently brushing along his. Salim blinked, bringing himself back to ground, his face feeling much warmer now.     “No problem.” Both of them stood there, a silence filling the air around them. [Name]’s eyes shifting around, unable to focus on Salim anymore, as if she wanted to say something.     “So...um. Do you... want to help?” She offered, “You don’t have to if you don’s wanna.”     “I’d love to.” 

The two headed back to her house, Salim trying to keep his head on his shoulders as they prepped the food. The knife’s blade almost catching his finger more times than he could count now thanks to his wandering eyes. He couldn’t help himself. ‘Come on, Salim. Focus.’ He forced his attention back to the carrots he was chopping before he added them to the pot. Most of the broth had already been done before she even asked for his help, something he found a little odd but didn’t question. [Name] smiled and sprinkled some herbs in before putting a lid on the pot.     “Alright, that’s that sorted.” She dusted her hands before running them under the kitchen tap, cleaning off any stray specks of crushed herbs. “Thank you again, Salim. I appreciate the help.” He mirrored her smile, brushing it off with a light shrug of his shoulders.     “It’s fine, [Name]. I love helping you.” That was no lie. Any reason to be there for her, to help in any small task was fulfilling for him. Before he could grab his jacket, she stopped him.     “Can I, at least, give you a parting gift? As thanks?” Curiosity swirled within him at this, his head tilting lightly subconsciously. She stepped closer, pushed herself up and brought her lips up to his cheek, pressing a gentle yet warm kiss on his cheek.

Salim’s whole body lit up at this. Sparks coursing along his nerves, bouncing inside his muscles like jumping electricity. Heat rushed to his face, burning his cheeks but he couldn’t hold back the smile that pulled his lips. Night after night, he had dreamed such things but didn’t believe them to become true one day. [Name] stood there, her own cheeks red from the kiss as she stepped back.     “Sorry, I just.... I wanted to...” Her words failed her. In that moment, all caution Salim had spent months honing had been thrown out the window. To Hell with the consequences for a moment. He leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own in a loving kiss. His hands came to rest on her waist, wishing to pull her closer, but he resisted. He wanted her to know how he felt. 

Slowly pulling back, he held his gaze with her. The rush of everything hitting him and the realisation sinking in. He messed up, didn’t he? He leapt too far.     “That was.... unexpected.” [Name] spoke, her expression unreadable. Discomfort squirmed in Salim’s chest at this.     “I-I’m sorry, [Name]. I just... I misread the situation, I didn’t....” A heavy sigh left his lips, his shoulders slumping as his head dropped, unable to look at her. He turned, aiming to walk out the door but she stood in his path, blocking his way out. 

“You didn’t, Salim.” She looked at him with such bright eyes, filled with admiration and care, her arms wrapping around his body, enveloping him in a hug. “I know how you feel, Salim. And I want you to know I feel the same.” Salim’s arms moved on their own accord, wrapping around her form and holding her close. Relief flooded his body, chasing away any lingering discomfort from earlier, replaced by a tingling warmth that filled his body. Hell, it felt as if he was floating in water. 

“I’ve cared about you for a long time, [Name]. If you’ll have me, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. I will always be there for you.” His words were true, straight from the bottom of his heart. The idea of anything befalling her made his heart ache, and he would stand by her side come Hell or Heaven. [Name] looked up at him, her eyes locked with his own. 

“I’d like that, habibi.” Hearing those words filled Salim’s heart. He smiled and pressed another kiss on her lips, holding her close. Their friendship was a strong bond, he only prayed that their love would prove to be even stronger. 

[eleanore-delphinium]

Pillow Talk

I felt extremely cold. A chilliness from the surface that seeped deep into my core. This happened often, but this time it had become terrifyingly cold for too long.

I remember looking at a couple, whom both had black hair. The male- Damian, had green eyes and tan skin. The female- Raven, had violet eyes and pale skin. I often see them gaze at each other in such a loving way, I admit, I was rather envious of it.

I wanted that gaze, not necessarily from one of them, but that warm gaze, I wished was directed at me.

Would that remove the chilliness I was feeling? Likely not.

It was cold and it looked invitingly warm. They looked invitingly warm.

I, however, hadn't seen Damian in so long.

I wondered why.

Consequently, I didn't see Raven either.

I suppose you two would come to see me again one day, after all, I knew you two were busy, and you rarely came to see me together consecutively for– at the very least– three days.

So, I suppose, I shouldn't be so bothered by the absence. As the absence was quite the norm. But I couldn't help but feel an extreme dread that shook me deeply.

I didn't like it, maybe because it was coupled with the coldness that I wanted gone.

~.~.~.~.~

I saw Raven again, she was in tears. I didn't understand why she couldn't stop crying. She would stare at her bed and break down. She couldn't even approach her bed, she would only lean against her bedroom door and weep and then leave suddenly. Sobs were left behind her trail as she fled.

I could hear her cry from the other room too.

It was like that for days which then became weeks.

I haven't seen Damian in that time. It was odd. He seemed like the type of man who would beat whoever made his lover cry– the way she was now, but why wasn't he doing just that?

In fact, where has he been, it's been months since I last saw him.

~.~.~.~.~

You'd think I'd see Raven more often as we lived in the same building. But I rarely saw her. It started when she would come back to the apartment in tears. Her habit of crying against her bedroom door or in her living room was something I took note of though.

And Damian's absence.

An absence that could not be ignored.

Still, with all this happening, the coldness didn't leave me. In fact, it felt like it had become me.

Please come and visit me.

As if Raven heard me, she entered their bedroom with resolve in her eyes.

Will she not cry this time around?

The tears pooled in her eyes but she bravely took a step forward toward their bed. She walked to her side, her entire body shaking. With quivering fingertips, she touched the cool sheets.

I wondered if you now understand my chilliness.

Suddenly, Raven dropped to her side of the bed, bursting into tears.

"Damian…" She whispered, it sounded like she was calling out for him.

But I do not see the black-haired, green eyes man.

Where the hell is Damian?

It seemed that she had been crying quietly because she missed him. Why the hell hasn't he come and visited her then?

It was clear that she wanted to see him. And from what I knew of him, he was not someone who would make Raven miss him to this extent.

But the reason why I want him here is because when he comes to visit her, then they will be together again with me.

"Damian…" Raven continued to weep and I was left confused.

Raven lay on her side of the bed gazing at the space where Damian would lay. Her fingertips brushed the sheets of his corner. Tears fell onto her pillow.

"Damian, why did you leave me?" The chilliness I felt was replaced by sheer dread.

I should be thankful.

I wasn't feeling cold anymore.

But I was extremely sad.

"Damian… why…" She wept, retracting her hand from Damian's side of the bed. "Why did you leave me?"

Leave? How did he leave?

I wanted to ask Raven so many things. The coldness from within me had turned to something else that felt like a knot that could not be described.

Raven screamed suddenly and I was startled by the sudden screech and she suddenly curled on her side of the bed.

She fell asleep in tears and continued to mumble in her sleep. I wish I knew what was happening. There was a fear that permanently replaced the coldness inside of me.

Damian left?

Raven acted the same way as the days passed, inching ever so closely towards Damian's side of the bed. The way she hesitated to go any closer made me confused.

I suddenly remembered how Damian would often tell her, "You are awfully too cold."

And thus, oftentimes she would be sleeping in his arms.

Sure, the couple had their designated sides on the bed but when they were together and in each other's arms, such lines did not exist. They were always in each other's arms. So to me, I didn't understand Raven's hesitance, after all, sleeping on her boyfriend's side wasn't something new to her. Because sometimes he'd hold her solely on his side and she would hold him back. Her head would lay on his arm.

I recall how the two would gaze at each other quietly, eyes locked at one another for hours. And the kind of warmth emitting from them.

But now, Raven would just cry with longing eyes whenever she gazed at the other side of the bed. And it started to make my core ache.

~.~.~.~.~.~

I realized something, I never noticed till now, but Raven seemed to often stand in front of their closet and stare long and hard at the clothes there, like what she was doing now.

She had been standing there for over an hour. And then suddenly her fingers touched Damian's clothes. She took one of his jackets off the hanger with shaking fingers.

Raven dropped to her knees in tears as she hugged the piece of leather.

"Damian." Was the only thing she whispered now and then as she wept in silence.

I still didn't know what happened to him, and I truly wished I did. There was one thing to take away from this moment though, Raven wasn't screaming in tears anymore.

That had to be a good thing, right?

I came to want to comfort her so badly as these kinds of days continued. It seemed endless- her tears, her longing for a man who hasn't appeared.

I wanted to hold her, the way Damian did whenever she was upset.

And then suddenly, I felt a weight against me. I don't know how many days passed with Raven acting the way she had been, but it seemed that something had changed now.

Raven's head rested gently against me. She was in tears yet again, nothing new.

Her pale fingertips were making circles against me. I can finally ask what happened to Damian, I can finally try and comfort her.

"Damian, I miss you so much." Her voice cracked and I felt perplexed.

Would I finally know what happened to Damian Wayne?

"Why did you leave me?" She asked for the nth time as she buried her face against me and she inhaled deeply. "It smells just like you." Her voice broke as she cried.

"The pillow you used to lay your head on." She wrapped her arms around me. "The spot where you used to lay." She curled herself on Damian's side of the bed, her face buried deep into me.

Yes, me, Damian's pillow.

"Why did you die and leave me like this?" I wanted to point out that her words seemed selfish, but I recalled how Raven had been acting since Damian did this die thing.

I wondered how permanent this 'die' was.

Could you not follow him there?

Surely, from what I know of him, he would follow you anywhere. He would follow you if you die.

So, why is this 'die' such a hard thing to accept and go to? Is it not like that door you and him would go through to get from the bedroom to the living room?

Is it…not that simple?

You fell asleep holding me– gripping me really– clawing deep into my core. At least now I am feeling some kind of warmth.

[bloatedandalone04]

Against All Odds - Part 2

➪the one where bradley pushes away his pride and finally admits to himself what he already knew, that you are his number one priority.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of injuries, descriptions of injuries, arguments, break ups, bradley is a major dick in this

Word Count: 3.8k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley had to blink away the sleep in his eyes as he quickly sat up, his phone nearly falling from his hand as he brought it up to his ear. “Baby,” he said desperately as he called you back. 

It rang and rang until he was beginning to think he had completely blown it, then the call connected. He was met with silence, but you had actually picked up, so he knew you could hear him.

“Y/n,” he hesitantly said, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he heard your quiet inhale. 

“Bradley?” Your sweet voice called his name, and Bradley felt his eyes sting a bit as he sat up and planted his feet onto the carpet to ensure he was stable and not dreaming this.

“Babygirl,” he rasped, his body full of adrenaline even though he had just woken up. His face was as sore as anything else and his body ached, but he was talking to you for the first time in months. The only thing that would make it better would be if you were actually here with him. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

He heard you sniff quietly on the other end, and he knew you were beginning to cry. His heart ached to be with you right now and his fingers were begging to be able to wipe away your pretty tears. 

You didn’t say anything and he was desperate to hear your voice again and get you talking to him. “Y/n,” he called softly. “Talk to me, baby, please.”

He hears you sniff again before you mumble. “I don’t know what to say,”

“Anything,” he answered instantly. “Say anything, please. Yell at me, call me a selfish asshole, tell me that you hate me. Just don’t hang up.”

“I don’t hate you, Bradley,” you tell him quietly, making his heart race as you confess that he was wrong in thinking you’ve spent the last couple months despising him. “And you’re not a selfish asshole.”

He could’ve cried at that if he wasn’t too focused on trying to figure out what to say next that will keep you talking to him. “I’m so sorry,” he said again, his voice hoarse and his face aching. “I’ll keep saying I’m sorry for the rest of my life. I need you, Y/n.”

“Bradley,” you trail off, your tone quiet and your breathing uneven. “It’s been months.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “Trust me, I know. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since…since I broke up with you. That has been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my entire life. I can’t believe I talked to you like that. Fuck, you deserve so much better.”

You were quiet for a bit and he began to think he had run out of time with you, but then you spoke softly, “I’m sorry about last night. I watched a bit of it, but I couldn’t bring myself to see the end. I guess you lost, huh?” 

Fuck, he almost wish you got to see him get his ass handed to him. It’s the least you deserved, to watch the guy who broke your heart get his face beaten in. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted. Then he clued in to what you said and a small smile formed on his lips as he asked, “You still watch the matches?”

“Sometimes,” 

Bradley wasn’t sure whether or not he should feel relieved or guilty. He leaned back on the couch and draped his free arm over his sore abs as he sat in silence for a few seconds. He wanted you back, more than anything else in the world. He knew now what he should’ve known before, and that is that he’d do anything for you. 

You wanted him to give up his career? He will. He’d get an office job if it meant he got to have you back in his life. 

You wanted to have a house together? He’ll get the papers ready that confirms it within a few days. 

You wanted him to take you and your relationship seriously? You’ll be his number one priority for the rest of his life, like you should have been since the very beginning. 

“Baby,” he nearly whimpered. “I miss you so much. Every fucking day.”

He dreaded your next words, unsure if he should even be telling you that he missed you right now, but he was never good at keeping his thoughts to himself. That was one of the things that caused you to leave him, and that really fucking hurt to think about. 

Thankfully, you saved him from hurting even more by whispering, “I miss you, too,”

He knew he was going too fast, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to see you, face to face. He needed to tell you how sorry he is in person. “Y/n,” he begged. “Come over, babygirl. Please.”

-

“Bradley, what the fuck were you thinking?” You nearly yell as you carry more than half his body weight while you guide him into the house. “He could’ve killed you. Why do you insist on getting so damn cocky every time you’re in that stupid ring?”

“Enough, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away from you and limped his way into the living room. Truthfully, he probably needed your help right now in order to fix up the wounds he received, but not if it meant you were going to baby him like you were his mother. “It’s fine.”

Of course you weren’t going to let him off easy. You never did and it was usually something he appreciated, but he was really fucking annoyed right now and just wanted to end the day with you in bed, but you looked as energized as ever. “It’s fine? It’s fine? Bradley, it’s not fine!”

He huffed and sat down on the couch, lifting his sore hand and massaging his knuckles. “Fuck off,” he said under his breath, not at all saying it to you but about his current situation. He just wanted to sleep off the events of the night, and you weren’t letting up. 

Maybe he should have been clearer about that, though. “Fuck off? Seriously, Bradley?”

He held back an eye roll as he leaned back against the couch. “I wasn’t saying it to you, come on, baby,”

You glared at him. “Who were you saying it to then? ‘Cause if you haven’t realized, I’m the only one here. I’m always the only one here. It’s me who has to clean you up whenever you get the shit beaten out of you, and it’s me who has to haul you all the way home since you won’t let anyone else touch you,”

Bradley did roll his eyes this time. “Sue me for only wanting my girlfriend to take care of me,” he grunted, pressing his thumb harshly against his bruised knuckles. “You do realize that’s what you are right? You’re my girlfriend, not my fucking mom, so can we please drop this and go to bed?”

You laughed. “Why? So you can just forget about it? You do this every time, Bradley, and I’m getting pretty fucking tired of it,”

“Oh, cry me a river, Y/n,” he huffed as you stepped towards him. “You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to going out with me five fucking years ago. Why is it such a problem now?”

You cross your arms, your gaze softening a bit. You hated arguing with Bradley, and while you didn’t do it all the time, it was something that had been happening quite often as of lately. “It’s always been a problem, Bradley. You know I hate seeing you get hurt,” 

Bradley looked up at you and his hard gaze, too, faded a bit. “It’s part of my job, babygirl. You know that,” he reminded you and tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “You said you supported me.”

“I do,” you say, a bit offended as you stand in front of him. “But I don’t support the guy you become when you think things are too easy for you. Why do you instigate things with the guys you fight? You always end up eating your words when they put you back in your place. It’s like you go out of your way to put on a good show or something, and I’m the one who’s left to look after you when it’s over. It’s hard on me, baby. I hate seeing you get hurt and you seem to get a kick out of it.”

Bradley pressed his palm flat against his bruised face as he tried to think of a rational way to respond to you. He did not want to be talking about this right now, and you showed no signs of giving him the fucking break he was craving. He knew you were just worried about him and he loved you for it, so he was trying hard to not go off on you since you really didn’t deserve it, but it was taking a lot out of him to keep calm. He felt like he was being interrogated, and he felt like he needed to remind you once again that you are his partner, not his parent. 

“It’s my job,” he said again, this time not doing much to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “I’m supposed to entertain people.”

“Not by going out of your way and ensuring you walk away with a beaten up face, Bradley,” you counter, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “That’s not entertaining, it’s scary. You don’t care what happens to you as long as you get what you want out of it, and it’s scary. You scare me sometimes, Bradley.”

While on a normal night your words would’ve had him straightening up his act a bit and apologizing, the events leading up to this moment have him feeling more pissed off than understanding. 

Things were going well for him a few hours ago, and he just started his sixth round with Banks Harper when you tried giving him a pep talk that felt more like a lecture. Your scolds were all he could think about as he threw his first punch, then he spewed out some dumb line about how his mother could fight better than Banks, and then he was getting the shit beaten out of him. 

It wasn’t your fault he lost tonight, but he was far too stubborn to think that it was his own right now. “I scare you?” He asked with a humorless laugh, and by the look of surprise on your face he knew that wasn’t the response you were expecting from him. He pushed himself up so he was towering over you, using his height and build in ways he used against his opponents, not while he was with his sweet girlfriend. “Why the fuck are you with me then? Huh? Why the fuck are you here?”

You stare up at him with hurt evident in your eyes. “I’m here because I love you, Bradley,” you weakly answer. “Because I don’t believe in throwing away five years just because you don’t know how or when to stop.” 

Bradley could see how much his harsh words were affecting you, but he was fired up now and you weren’t offering him the escape from it all like you usually did. You were adding to his frustrations instead of helping him get rid of them. “So you don’t believe in me. Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” You yell and drop your arms to your sides. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! You’re putting words in my mouth. I’ve been your biggest supporter ever since we started dating and I still support you now, I-”

“Still? You still support me now?” He asked as he stepped closer to you. Your eyes were pleading with him now and if he had half a mind he’d shut up and whisk you away to bed so he could apologize to you while holding you in his arms. But he was running off of the small amount of adrenaline he had left in him, and it was making his brain feel a bit fuzzy. “Then fucking act like it. Maybe, I don’t know, don’t question me on everything little fucking thing I do. If I want to talk shit to the guys I fight then I will. You don’t get to fucking control me or what I do when I give you everything you could ever need. I provide you with everything, the least you could do is act a little grateful, not jump on me as soon as we get home. Just…get off my back, alright? Fuck.”

You cower away from him a bit as tears sting your eyes. You were glaring at him now and trying to fight off the way your lip was quivering, but you were feeling hurt at this point and he still wasn’t seeing it from your perspective. “I’m not trying to control you, Bradley, I…” you trail off, looking down at the floor as the first of many tears begin to fall. “I can’t believe you actually said that to me.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and walked past you, the adrenaline doing a fine job at keeping his body upright and taking away the pain he will be feeling later. “What? Can’t believe what? That I won’t let you walk all over me? You can say all this bullshit about me but then get mad when I throw it back at you,” he muttered. “Real original, baby.”

“Bradley,” you gasped as you turned to him and tugged on his arm. “What the hell. All I wanted was for you to see things how I see them, that’s all. Maybe if you did then-”

“Oh, my fucking- you’re still going on about that? Enough, Y/n,” he raised his voice in a tone he never used with you before. You step away from him, putting some much needed distance between the two of you. “I swear, sometimes you’re so damn unbearable, I’m surprised I haven’t pulled out all my fucking hair. Take the fucking hint and leave me the fuck alone, okay? I don’t want to talk to you right now. At all.”

And maybe the two of you would’ve been fine if you had just left it at that. Maybe you both would have slept it off, made up the following morning.

But then you wiped at your eyes as you tried to find the courage to de-escalate things. “I just-”

And he reached his breaking point and turned back around to face you. “Jesus Christ, when will you learn to shut up? Seriously, shut up,” he yelled. “I’m so fucking sick of talking about this. We could have avoided all of this if you hadn’t decided to act like my mother as soon as we walked through the fucking door. I can’t deal with this right now. I can’t deal with you. Fuck, just go. Leave. I don’t want you here anymore, not if you’re going to treat me like a fucking child.”

Your eyes widened a bit, your mouth parting in a silent plea. Surely he didn’t mean that, right? 

Wrong. “I mean it, Y/n,” he rasped as he turned back around and headed towards the bedroom. The same one he had shared with you, officially, for three months. Unofficially for five years. “Get the fuck out.”

-

Bradley wished he had let Nat take better care of him last night. Maybe she could’ve helped prevent his face from looking this fucking bad. Without proper care for them, the bruises worsened overnight and his left eye was half closed because of the darkened skin around it.

He looked terrible, but still he found himself feeling happy because you would be here soon. 

You were coming here, to him.

He could look as bad as he wanted, it still wouldn’t dampen the mood he is in at the fact that he would finally get to see you again after spending so long without you. 

Though, he was sure you would hate his current appearance. You never did like seeing him like this, and he wished he won last night and didn’t let himself get knocked around so much if he knew there was a chance he could get you back the next day.

His heart skipped multiple beats at that. 

He was a few minutes away from possibly getting you back, from being the one who receives all your love and affection like he had been for five years. He’d be damned if he fucked this up. 

Minutes that feel like hours pass before he hears quiet knocking on the door, and Bradley had to take a second to compose himself before he embarrassed himself by rambling as soon as he saw you. 

He made it to the door in three strides and took less than a second to open it. 

For the first time in months Bradley felt like his world was falling back into place. His heart leaped in his bruised chest and his arms begged the rest of him to take you into them. 

He longed for the sweet scent of vanilla you always seemed to emit, and he was desperate to know if you still fit perfectly against him. He knew you did, but he wanted to prove it to the few doubts that ran around in his head. 

“Baby,” he rasped, his voice rough and breathless as he took you in.

You hadn’t changed at all, not really. You effortlessly made the grey sweatpants and black tee you wore look like the most beautiful outfit he had ever seen you in, and he knew if he looked close enough he might be able to tell if your hair had grown out a bit or not, but he was mainly focusing on your achingly pretty face. 

“Bradley,” you said back, equally as quiet. 

Then he was taking one step towards you and you were meeting him way more than half way by jumping into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist as his hands instinctively grab onto the undersides of your thighs, and you fit perfectly against him. 

The impact of your body crashing against his had him holding back a grunt as his chest was still extremely sore, but he needed this. He needed you, and he was fucking kidding himself when he tried to think otherwise. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, burying his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. Not being able to stop himself, he kissed the skin there multiple times as he felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. “So fucking sorry. I can’t believe I said all that shit to you.”

He pulled away in order to make eye contact with you, finding your eyes in a similar state as his. 

“I was out of my fucking mind, babygirl,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours as he spoke the words you’ve been wanting to hear for weeks now. “Completely out of my mind. You’re everything to me, baby, you always have been. Always will be.” 

No more words were said after that as you both gave each other a look of consent before Bradley was closing the distance between you completely and kissing you deeply. Your hands slide up and tangle in his hair, tugging on it in the way that still drove him crazy. 

Your lips mesh together like no time at all has passed. One of his own hands reached up and gripped the side of your face gently, his fingers curling around your jaw and angling your head a bit as the kiss progressed. 

“I missed you,” you confessed when you pulled away for air, your eyes softening at the bruises around his eyes and on his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. You’re right, I should’ve been, I-”

Bradley shook his head quickly, effectively cutting you off with the simple movement. “No, I wasn’t,” he corrected you. “I was wrong about everything. About all of it. I’m just a big fucking idiot. I can’t believe I said all that to you. I was mad and embarrassed and you were just trying to help me. God, you’re so perfect, babygirl. You’re too good for me, I don’t deserve you and I never did. I know that, but I love you. So fucking much. There’s no one else for me except you.”

Your fingers gently trace the edges of his wounds, your slightly wet lips quivering a bit as you took in both his words and appearance. 

He sounded as broken as he looked, and the sight had your heart aching in your chest painfully. “Bradley,” you whisper, closing your eyes and kissing his forehead as your tears begin to steadily fall. “You really don’t see yourself in the way I see you, huh?”

Your breathless laugh has a smile forming on his lips as he shakes his head again and pulls you close to him once more. “I’m an idiot,”

“You’re everything,” you say and wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders. “I want you to be happy, and if you weren’t happy with me then that was okay. I didn’t want to hold you back, I still don’t want to hold you back. If you still want me, I promise, I will be your number one supporter forever. I’ll get over everything and be on your team again. I’ll be in your corner whenever you’re in that ring, I swear.”

Bradley let out a laugh mixed with a cry. “I still want you, baby,” he promised, holding your body close to his. “I’ll always want you. Always. You make me happy. I was the one who ruined everything, not you. This is all on me.”

You pull back, grinning at the way his arms reluctantly loosened around you. “I love you,” 

He leans in and kisses you, pulling your chest completely against his as he stepped back into his house and kicked the door closed. “I love you,” he said back, kissing you again as he stumbled his way into the living room. “I love you so much.”

He repeated it as he settled on the couch above you, wrapped up in your arms now. 

“Take me back,” he begged, kissing along your neck as your hands trailed through his hair. “Please, take me back. Stay here with me, please.”

You take his face in your hands and press a soft but firm kiss to his mouth, soothing the sting of his bruises with the pads of your thumbs. “Always,” you promised, and Bradley knew there was a lot more you and he needed to talk about, but he was okay with just being with you like this until that time came.

-

@itsmytimetoodream

@khaylin27

@broosterradley

@haydenshousewife

[ghoulgums]

I'm really sorry to hear about May. Please talk to someone though don't bottle up these feelings again. And life definitely isn't wasted on you you bring so much happiness and love into the world it would be so much worse without your light in it

I haven’t spoken to anyone online in days, I feel so empty, I have almost nothing to say to anyone, funnily enough though this is the first time I haven’t felt lonely, it’s kinda odd?

social media is triggering me hard at the moment, I’m getting tired of reading posts and statuses of people expressing a desire for an eating disorder so that they can lose weight, I had acute anorexia from my early teens and received a formal diagnosis of anorexia nervosa a couple of years ago, every day I am battling my head/body and there are people actively WISHING that they had the illness, it’s knocking me sick.

everyone seems to be depressed and suicidal at the moment, and I’ve since realised that I don’t have the mental or emotional capacity to take on anyone else’s problems when I’m trying SO HARD not to end my life on the daily.

these next coming weeks I’m going to be a full time carer for my partner as a result of a surgical procedure he’s having done, and I’m looking forward to feeling ‘needed’ as that’s a driving factor for my survival, if I’m not needed then I don’t see the point of being.

my independence is so limited due to my financial and mental health struggles, and also the fact I feel extreme guilt at doing nice things for myself so I won’t do a lot of things without ‘permission’.

I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel despite the medication, therapy sessions, and support I receive. I believe I’m always going to be tormented by my traumas even though I’ve been trying to manage them on and off for 17 years.

the hard work I’ve put in to reach recovery has proved ineffective, and the thought of having to live with these conditions for the rest of my life is exhausting and terrifying.

I feel like all I’m doing is making the people around me miserable because the joy has been sucked out of me, and I don’t want to be that guy in any way, shape or form.

I feel like I’ve let everyone down, people have these expectations of me that I can’t always meet and as a result I get grief, I’m sorry but I can’t live my life catering to people who don’t even know what’s going on in my life.

I’ve had an absolutely garbage year and it’s felt like I’ve been dragging boulders, the heaviness is so physical that it hurts.

not to state the obvious, but I am alive, I’m existing just about.

I don’t feel like I bring much light, and it devastates me because all I ever wanted was to be happy and spread love and acceptance, but I’m not happy and it just doesn’t look like it’s in the cards for me. yes, there are things that make me feel happy, but overall I’m not happy in the slightest regardless of my efforts to change it.

I just feel like I’m surrounded by constant reminders of the fact that my life has been different to the people around me, and I get envious and bitter as a result.

I’m holding on, but something has got to give at some point, it just has to.

[ocean-anchored]

Dear future self... June 27, 2023

I’ve been feeling really flat lately. I definitely think my hormones are in play with it because of how much I’ve fucked my poor body up but partly because I feel like I’m burning out.

I feel too tired to express & understand my feelings. I keep trying to numb it with watching shows & keeping myself occupied on other things too. My brain is too tired for this. I need to get back into going to bed at a reasonable time. I hate sleeping in like I have been & feeling like I’m not rested. It’s 10:30pm. I’m partially waiting if Zack will call me back, our phone calls have been so broken up today. I miss him. I miss the early weeks when we didn’t worry about work or other things. I know it was la la land, I was really just living in a fantasy world that felt so perfect. Continued.... July 6, 2023 Well, I definitely didn't finish writing that one. I looked back briefly to see and it's almost been a month since I wrote again. Man I'm not doing good at this. I've been feeling a bit of burn out. Oh look I wrote that above also. I'm getting tired and unmotivated working which sucks because right now is the best time to keep pressing in. While Zack is away most of the weeks usually, it gives me time to relax during the week evenings and work. I just haven't had as much motivation. I've more been starting later and then working for Ed into the evening rather than still getting up at a decide hour. I do miss my routine. I miss my night time routine, reading before bed, skin care and even doing a work out. I've been resorting to watching shows to numb my brain because I'm so tired, which I need to be gentle on myself because I have been doing a lot and working a lot so it's okay, I just miss the routine. I miss waking up at 6:30 and starting my day. I'm still waking up early if I spend the night at Zacks but the half hour commute definitely isn't enjoyable. Speaking of Zack. Things are still going really well. We've had a couple head butting's though. His job is taking a toll for sure and we're still really getting to know how each other works. I can't remember if I mentioned the night when I went over before he was going to the US for the week and that he was really worried about me talking and seeing other guys. It was a really good conversation, I felt it was pretty healthy, especially considering it could go completely opposite in another way if he wasn't who he was. He was just worried, I get it. I still just find it so odd that we're just so much the same. His same concerns are usually mine flipped. But we're so much so the same person with the same values and have had similar things happen to us in the past that we hold trust so high but that's what makes us work that much better. It was reassuring. Kind of honestly super nice that he doesn't talk to girls, extremely reassuring. Richardt wasn't like that and deep down I didnt fully trust him. But I really do trust Zack, everything he says he means and his actions follow and line up with it. It's wildly refreshing. We had a little tuffle last friday, Dustins birthday - side tangent but I went skydiving. Like who am I!!!! I can't believe I did that. The guy I went tandem to, Steve, was really great. He was so calm, seriously made me feel so safe and so comfortable. I really didn't worry too much, the excitement overtook. The plan ride up was great and I still felt pretty comfortable, it was when my legs were dangling out of the tiny plane that I realized what the hell was I doing, but only for a few seconds, when we jumped, it was more the thrill that just overtook my body and mind. It was honestly such a wild experience and so fun, I'm so blessed to have gone and it was such a sick experience with Dustin, I'm really glad to have spent that. What a memory to have and hopefully another (more) to come. We went for dinner where Zack and Dustin met finally. They seemed to have got along good which is nice. I was off pretty quick and jumped right into assumptions that Zack was lying, he had made a comment that he hadn't napped, which didn't make sense when he texted me at 2:30 saying he woke up from one & he was nervous for me to jump, so that set me off for a min. Then I just questioned if he had even gone for the haircut that he said he was going to when I called him after we were on our way back. My mind just spiraled down. When we got back to my place we were in the yard. He had made a comment that he was there to talk if I wanted if something was bothering me. I did mention that all the talk about my dad did damper my mood, then I said something like I was scared of getting hurt. That turned real quick. I wouldn't say it got ugly but we definitely weren't seeing eye to eye and I didn't like the way he was responding. It took a bit, I went to lay down and he had a smoke. When he came back in we were able to talk about it. It was better then, explaining our sides. I get how he got defensive. I 1005 understand, coming from his point he questioned why and how I could be the one being scared of being hurt while I was the one that had guy friends (only dustin is the one I hang out with 1:1) and that I have guys always sending me snaps etc. I totally get that. I really do get it, it really puts so much into perspective. We talked about how we handle ourselves, he took responsibility for how he reacted and that he should have heard me out. We were able to resolve and get over it quickly then, with a lot more understanding. Yesterday though we had another little one, different though. We talked it out today which was really really important, another learning curve and big moment for us in learning each other.

[sassylady1103]

Feral

I may have made a huge mistake.

It’s been a week or so since I found the Pawn Shop and started transferring everything to the basement to set up shop. It was going so well…maybe too well. I got careless, I guess, and didn’t keep an eye out like I should. So,the worst happened. I got bit by a feral ghoul.

This was a few days ago, and at first, it seemed like nothing. I killed the ghoul and came right home to clean and bandage the bite. I made up some of Mama’s poultice she used on wounds in the Vault. It’s like a paste, so I applied that and made some tea.

I didn’t think much more of it and went back to organising the basement and even made a couple more trips, being extra vigilant, of course. But the night before last, out of nowhere, it hit me and I can’t seem to shake it.

It started with a headache. I get headaches sometimes, particularly if I forget to eat, but I couldn’t think of a reason for it. So, I grabbed a book and took it easy on the couch. Then I must have developed a high fever. I’m not sure how high it got. Our bio scanner is broken and I haven’t found the parts to fix it yet. But I suddenly noticed I was cold, which was odd because it was fairly nice outside. Then it progressed to body aches and chills, with me shaking under two blankets. And then…my skin started to feel like it was on fire and overly sensitive to touch.

If I’m being honest, I started to get very worried. Colleen is still not home from her trip, so it’s just me. I knew I had to figure out how to help myself, but my mind was in a complete fog. All I could think to do was increase my fluids and I made any tea I could possibly think would help.

This went on all day yesterday and so today, I remembered that bite. Why I didn’t think of it sooner….

The only thing is that it doesn’t look that bad. A little red, of course, but not like it’s gotten a raging infection. I’m wondering if these things transmit a virus. Maybe that’s how they came to be! We always thought it was from being irradiated, but what do we really know about them?

So is this my fate?

I’m leaving a note for Colleen to read this entry in case I die from this, or worse, become one of them. I’m still trying to find something that will reverse this – whatever this is – but I also have to make sure she knows what happened to me.

I never thought I’d die this young. Even with all the craziness and danger out there. I thought I’d live a long life and get to see everything I’m literally dying to see. Sorry, Col, pun was intended. As I sit here on the porch, listening to the water tumble over the rocks of our stream, and the wind blowing through the trees and feel the warmth of the sun on my face, I’m praying to anything, anyone to help me through this so I can overcome whatever this is.

But if I don’t, I want you to know, Colleen, how much I love you and that you have always been my best friend and the best sister anyone could have ever wanted. I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful. Please don’t blame yourself for leaving or not training me enough. This is all on me. I knew you wouldn’t want me to go into town. I knew I should never let my guard down, but I did. Just know that I love you. Don’t live with regrets…just live every day. For me.

Mags

[unravellinginyourarms]

Grieving The Gentle & Innocent Love I Thought I Had Lost

01.22.23 at 8:22pm

A few days ago, I listened to Maddie Dragsbaek’s podcast, Emotionally Online, it was the episode about being the “other woman”. One of the most powerful things that stood out to me was when she mentioned how she had been grieving the innocent and gentle love that I wanted so desperately when she was young. She feared that she may never experience such a thing as she aged. Honestly, in that moment, I felt like she could see me across the screen. I was taken aback by what she had said. It’s something that I knew about myself but had failed to put into words for a very long time. The truth is, there are days when I feel worried about the fact that I never really experienced love / intimate moments during my late teens and early 20s. When I think about the types of milestones I hope to have with a partner, I fear that I am too late for things like that. I am concerned that as I progress through my 20s, I will be moving further away from knowing romance, in its purest form. When you date as an adult, things just feel so fucking serious all of the time, and there is a part of me that loathes this. I know that’s just the reality, but what if I never know the feeling of cute dates, sneaking out at night to see each other, losing my virginity in a very sincere way with someone who actually likes me? I don’t know the thrill of watching my high school boyfriend asking me to go to prom in front of the whole school, I don’t know the comfort of having my bf walk me to my uni classes. I don’t know the joy of picking out an anniversary gift or holding hands with someone I love so deeply or feeling like I am the most beautiful person because someone like him loves me. Like Maddie, I have been grieving this perceived loss. But, just like Maddie, I am doing my best to remember that those things do not need to be sacrificed. I can still make those stunning memories, there shouldn't be an age limit on it. Sure, there will be subtle differences, but at the end of the day, I deserve love that gentle and innocent. Once that aims to nurture me and teach me more about myself. That is the love that I know I can provide some day, so I need to remain hopeful, maybe even certain, that my time will come eventually. 

I will confess, it’s been so fucking hard being optimistic. Most days I lean towards detachment because the disappointment that comes from knowing that part of my life is inexperienced and empty, makes me feel really sad and insecure. Growing up, I wasn’t desired by guys that much. Maybe a couple of odd ones had slight feelings for me, but it wasn’t reciprocated. I have never really gotten the chance to know such mutual affection and attraction. I ached for it for sooooooo long. As I got older the tables turned quite quickly. More guys showed an interest in me but I was feeling spent. I was too tired to date, too bored. No one could get through to me. Men seemed very vapid, dull, perverse, or just plain ugly. I couldn’t find anyone that fit with me, and that actually made me feel worse. Because I know there are good men out there, but I just couldn’t understand why I was struggling to find them. Was I the problem? Were my standards too high? I don’t think so, maybe others would disagree. I did my best to be reasonable but I haven’t felt safe enough with any of these guys. In turn, my body and my psyche shut down, I truly wasn’t the same. Attraction decreased, libido plummeted and all I could do was focus on friends, work, and school. I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to enhance and cherish those areas of my life, but I still feel like a fucking loser for having close to zero relationship experience.

I feel too immature, too inexperienced, just like a fucking child. It makes it harder for me to initiate things, I’m constantly rattled by the idea of a many being sexually attracted to me. I still haven’t committed to picking a direction o this matter. All I have been doing is trying to remain positive whilst still focusing on other parts of my life/career. I have to believe that all is not lost, it can’t be. I’m only 23. If life was meant to end by this point then that would be shitty. However, I approximately have about another 60 years of life ahead of me. I think that’s plenty of time for things to change. Over those decades, I will continue to progress towards the life I was meant to live. No matter how slow the process may seem, it’s probably a good thing that I’m not getting everything I ever wanted all at once. Then, there’d be very little to look forward to, very little to work on. And that is the energy I need to foster and maintain with age.

– Isla

[howdytherepardner]

unintended hieroglyphics

i've been thinking about scars recently.

a term which gets pulled to mean things beyond the literal, but in no doubt partially due to the nature of the physical entity. until a week or so before memorial day in second grade, my most notable one was on my left forehead, a small but notable gash i got after falling on a vacuum cleaner in the later toddlin' years. not much metaphor there other than "yeah that lil guy was clumsy," which i can remind myself of with the subtle cavern that resides on the forehead. but certainly, the pair of marks on the right arm that have stayed with me since the age of 8.

i love the full story to this one, which you'll have to pry out of me another day (or from one in the distant past? maybe), but in brief, my sister and i were playing at a family friend's neighbor's house a little more than a block away when their neighbors asked if we wanted to pet their dog. golden retriever named lucky. and we do, so we walk over, and my small little self must've spooked him or reached out too fast, because that guy then chomped directly into my arm. i recall pulling just a bit before he let go, though i don't remember the pain, but just blood immediately coating the arm. chaos ensues, i eventually get to the ER, get stitched up, and drink preventative [rabies-type] meds (just in case, the dog didn't show any real symptoms beyond human biting) for the next 30 days, which i now associate vaguely as tasting like Yakult.

the two main wounds were the ones that got stitched, and are the ones that have since lasted with marks. the big boy is halfway between the wrist and elbow, on the inside. not gonna send pictures for your sake, but kinda like if the crack in time and space from matt smith dr. who, but open a wider, boogie woogie type of smile. the second is just above the wrist below my thumb - it is a straight line, but for some reason, the entry points for the stitches have stayed as well, leaving me with just a casual : | : hanging out for the past 15 odd years.

there are other scars over the body, of course. next to 😐 there's a standard line that i got from the oven grate when pulling out food a couple years ago. i did/do that a lot, but that was the one time i wasn't fast enough to the sink because i was determined to get it out on time. it didn't hurt that much then either, and i'm sure my casual demeanor about it probably freaked a few folks out, but it did have a numb sting for a couple weeks after.

i wrote briefly about the idea of bookmarks last year, and i think in both the literal and literary use of scars in a similar vein. but their indelibility carries a distinct status; the reminder doesn't come whenever you happen upon it, the memory is ever present. a truth without room for denial. trauma, and all that it compounds

~

i really haven't landed on how i feel about Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Stone Ocean. indeed, i am gliding in space, orbiting, perhaps waiting for this moment to propel down. and i feel there are ways to talk about it without talking about it itself. i think the feeling is really quite epitomized there has been true of all the anime series that i've been keeping up with.

the sixth season of My Hero Academia has progressed so thoroughly into a foreshadowed dark era of its' super(natural)hero world. out of peace, something just barely scraped from a long troubled conflict, right back into that same conflict, inherited by young faces.

Chainsaw Man is biting, cynical. completely accounting for all that composes a modern society, its apathy, and throwing people in the face of unrelenting violence, and life is no more certain than death.

and the third season of Mob Psycho 100 has been strange to witness. i was so perfectly content with beautiful ending to the narrative branched by the first two season, and really wasn’t expecting the series to continue with where it was left. but, of course, seasons end, but the world keeps on spinning. and someone has to live with the consequences, even if they can’t.

maybe there’s room for a different, expanded discussion on each of those series’ merits (which they all have, to varying extents) and questionable choices (which they all have, to varying extents), and making a more thorough comparison.

but the obvious sentiment from what i chose to state there is “damn, this shit is dour.” i don’t quite know what the language is for it. certainly there are plenty of dark shows that i’d seen when i first started watching offerings of this macro-genre, and i think they’ve all carried a certain air of cynicism or “darkness” to them (Death Note, Bebop, Fist of the North Star; the list could go on too long and too short). but my brain has been suggesting that recent work carries a new kind of energy to it.

because it’s not that things now are all that much darker, in terms of content or story or scales or stakes or traumatic backstories. but i think in the quest for novelty, there feels almost a desire to seek new ways of making horror psychological. where implications often might have once been left to discussions by viewers in separate forums, they now seem more common in full display - the rules of the worlds that make them fantastical necessitate catastrophe, a suffering innate not just to fantastical realms, but implemented and expressed so heavily in the living that we humans have now. where escapism might have been more feasible in these realms, confrontation with reality is more present.

which is not to say that’s a bad thing, really, to try and impart life lessons on living through the horror of the everyday. but it just means the brain gets a little less reprieve, especially if it hasn’t really taken time off on its own.

but what did strike me about Stone Ocean, at its tippy tippy last, after enduring truly what felt the most comprehensible but unimaginable horror, hope in some form returns from it all. to weep and to cry at the same time, perhaps; to find that catharsis.

i think my feelings have yet to land, because i have yet to be sure whether such a thing is possible.

~

do you notice the covid stickers like i do?

those simple characters, “corporate design”s of people

masked and distant and compassionate.

in subways and Subways and windows and yard signs.

warnings for public health, figments of the real world.

set up in an era of naive hope, it seems.

and i think maybe a slightly different kind of hope than nostalgia for the earliest phases of the pandemic might suggest; not quite the regularly scheduled clapping for health care heroes, donations and ppe, hell even the excessive disinfecting that common belief.

but more like the initial opening “hope,” the world set up for us vessels of infection to return once more. it was a limited, flawed hope - one marred by immediate case spikes at each local attempt. a hope not even a year’s sure of what the virus could do to anyone, and what it meant to feel back together. where essential and slightly less than essential labor was constantly exposed, and many more regained their sense of freedom to do so willingly, even if secretly or with constant testimony of Masking and Distance.

it’s just funny to me i think. not as a joke, but more in how fluid opinion and mentality had to be then. why does it feel so hard to recognize what is so familiar?

why now are those simple characters, masked and distant.

they are covered in a million different treads such that

only the outline, the silhouette and memory of an era remain.

... but uh,

it remains dude!!! Everywhere you see signs from 2020 and 2021 with different and contradicting policy!! The store window says strip and kiss if you please but the floor says stay the fuck back you factories!! I don’t get it. I mean, yes, I do understand that with the passage of time recommendations from public and popular authorities has shifted, determined by priorities relegated in public health considerations and the existence of vaccines and private industries and whatever the fuck they use to justify anything these days. I hear the CDC is “strongly encouraging” masks again these days, whatever that means having lost any authority of grip by calling it over. I get all of that. What I don’t get is

why haven’t they just taken up the stickers?

they remain unpeeled; the tales within are still on the clock.

~

the less fun part of the story is that in a classic folly, i only realized much later that they probably didn’t actually bring the dog to a farm somewhere. [Despite knowing about that euphemism, mind you; an abundance of farms in the immediate area such that this was an idea without question to me]. and i still don’t know whether or not any actual legal recourse was taken, from the emotional conversation i walked into.

and the scar brings me back to all of that too, even as it’s shifted in the decade and a half from a bloody mess to the kind of purple that would pulse, and from that to a faded, patch of white within a darker tan that still stands out to me, but probably not many others in daily life. to the tearing of flesh, to the novelty of the ER, to playing with friends that day, to being amused by that face throughout my youth, to the needle pushing through skin, to getting choked up when the cop asked me what happened despite knowing clearly how to describe it, to the wet washcloth that i held against my arm to stop the blood and the passenger seat of the F-250 that took me the block home.

but i think the scar is mostly visible. i really had no problems with dogs or any sense of lingering trauma from the event. the invisible scars of the world as of late have left a lot more. the words to even describe where i’m at are elusive. a panacea to such a wounds and ills is slipperier still, but i suspect it’ll be just as intangible beyond my language now.