#maybe i go for a winter hike by myself if the weather is nice

[spentgladiator]

Marriage is hard because sometimes u wanna go hide in a teeny tiny log cabin with no wifi no toilet no running water and a woodstove for four days and your wife wants to go to a bed and breakfast in the city and this is. Irreconcilable because everything that sounds good to me sounds terrible to her and vice versa

[sicbaby]

sleeping beauty

stepdad!leon kennedy x f!reader

cw: 18+ smut, stepcest, somnophilia, non consensual (at first)

it was a weekend you were looking forward to. a nice little winter vacation with your mom and some of her friends. it would be nice to get out of the house for a while anyway, especially since your seasonal depression kicked in.

however, your plans quickly changed when you fell ill. god damnit, stupid fucking weather. had to ruin your plans. now you were bed ridden, absolutely no energy so you refused to do anything. your loving mother didn’t bat an eye, wishing you well and heading off with her friends for the weekend. thanks, mom.

luckily, your stepdad was free. leon.

leon was a good dad, sweet and caring… more than your mom ever was. you liked him a lot. your mom put leon in charge of taking care of you for the weekend, and he was more than happy to oblige. he barely ever had time off work, and he was looking forward to spending time with you.

it was friday night and leon sat on the couch watching tv, feeling frustrated. the reason why? you.

yes, you. the poor little thing that had slept the day away. he had planned out the whole evening for the two of you. he was going to make soup, cuddle you and watch your favorite movies and kiss and love on you. like a good father should when his daughter gets sick. but you never even got out of bed. he felt lonely, frustrated, and needy. he missed his pretty little girl.

it was getting late. he shut down the house and put away the full pot of soup he had made for you. just seeing it sitting there made his frustration grow even stronger.

he turned off all the lights, locking the front door and heading upstairs. he’s mad at you.

he knows he shouldn’t feel that way, especially when you’re sick. but he can’t help it. he passes your door, not giving it a second look as he heads to his room.

he strips to his boxers, ready to get in bed as he fights an internal struggle within himself.

god, it’s not your fault, you poor thing. but he has needs too, doesn’t matter if you’re sick. with a frustrated sigh, he heads to down the hall to check on you.

he knocks on your door softly, and when there isn’t a response he opens it. the air is damp, filled with the peppermint scent of your diffuser on full blast. the room is dark, and he can hardly see until he comes closer. you’re sleeping. still.

his gaze wanders over your sleeping form. you were on your belly with your left leg hiked up. you were wearing the sheerest pink nightgown, and the silk practically melted into your body, leaving little to the imagination. it also didn’t help that your position caused the gown to ride up, the bottom of your cheeks exposed to him. nothing underneath that slutty little gown, of course. despite his irritation, he couldn't deny the allure of your vulnerability. a mischievous grin tugs at the corner of his lips as a wicked idea forms in his mind.

leon slowly approaches the side of the bed, his steps almost silent against the carpeted floor. he felt as if you owed him for the lonely, isolated day he had.

swiftly, he reaches out and gently brushes his hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your feverish skin beneath his fingertips. "you know, i was hoping we could have some quality time together," he murmured, his tone mocking. "but it seems like you're too busy being a useless little burden, sleeping the day away."

his frustration brewed beneath the surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. leon slowly reaches down, his fingers grazing over your thigh. the touch was light, teasing, not wanting to wake you up just yet.

"since you're so useless, maybe i should find another way to entertain myself," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "hmmm,” he hums, “maybe i'll have to wake you up properly, little sleeping beauty."

leon's hand continued caressing your thigh, inching higher and higher. your mouth was wide open, snoring softly. he chuckled at that. even sick and asleep, you were such a prize. and he was going to claim you.

trailing his hand along the back of your left thigh, he nudges it to the side slightly, guiding your legs to open more for him. he trails up and up, until his index finger flicks over the soft flesh of your pussy. he smirks when you don’t move, and proceeds to glide his finger up and down your folds until it settles on your clit. he applies just enough pressure to elicit a small noise from your parted lips. it’s barely noticeable, though, and he keeps playing and teasing with your pussy until that warm wetness is coating his finger.

the act of making you wet even while you slept was an intoxicating feeling for leon. the sudden urge to possess you and claim you as his own rushes over him.

he crawls over you, settling into bed next to you. he places a light hand on your back, feeling the silk of your nightgown. his touch trailed lower and his fingers knead the soft flesh of your ass, reveling in its plumpness. he couldn't help but let out a low, husky groan as his desire for you intensified.

leon's desire grew even stronger as he shifted closer to you. being careful not to disturb you, he delicately repositioned you onto your side, hand still firmly gripping your ass. once he’s satisfied with your position, he presses his hand to the front of your hips, pressing your ass against him. his cock hardens at the feeling of your warm and soft ass against him. he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, feeling his cock grow with every slow rut. a low growl of satisfaction escaped his lips as he continued, moving his head up to press his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

he looks back down to your ass, slowly and carefully lifting your nightgown up your back, exposing your bare skin to the fabric of his boxers as he continues to slowly hump you. in a low, whispered voice, he couldn't resist indulging in dirty talk again, knowing you wouldn't hear him. you were so deep in your slumber.

"hi, princess.” he taunts, right in your ear this time. “you gonna let daddy fuck your tight little pussy? hm? yeah, you are. daddy’s gonna do whatever he wants with you tonight, baby," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. “daddy deserves that, right?” he asks, reaching up to grab your chin, forcing you to nod your head in your sleep. he chuckles deeply at this. “yeah, that’s right. good girl, baby.”

as he continues grinding against you, his hand lowers from your chin to your breasts, lightly grazing his fingers over your nipples, smirking to himself when he feels them harden almost immediately. you don’t move, don’t make any noise, and he wonders how much farther he can go. he trails his left hand down your tummy to your pussy, his hand once again finding your clit. at this point, you’re soaked. “dirty fucking girl..” he chuckles deeply.

he removes his hand, wiping your slick off on his boxers as he pulls them down his legs. he tosses them off the bed, moving back to you to lift up your leg. he scoots up, placing his now hard cock up against your wet cunt. he brings your leg back down and groans at the feeling of your lips and thighs surrounding his cock. he begins humping you again, your pussy continuously wetting his dick and making the most obscene noises in the quiet room.

it wasn’t until now you stir slightly, in a weird dream like state. you feel heat on your neck, a warmth against your body and wetness pooling between your legs. and yet, your mind can’t comprehend it, choosing to stay asleep.

leon continues humping his cock against your pussy, grunting softly in your ear. soon, he’s losing all control. he quickly lifts your leg, taking his dick into his hand as he slaps your cunt a few times with it, teasing himself yet again. he rubs it back and forth, pushing his head against your entrance, gauging your reaction. you still don’t move, and he scoffs a little. he finally presses the tip of his cock into your waiting hole, slowly yet surely filling you up. he barely gets all the way inside when you finally wake up, in a daze.

“hmm- huh, hnnng? leon?” you whine, immediately trying to get up when you feel a heavy, almost painful weight inside of you. you’re sick, weak and confused, your whines almost sound like you’re about to cry. and you just might, until leon pushes you gently back onto your side. “shhh, shhh, princess. it’s okay, daddy’s here. just needed to fill you up, make you feel better. daddy just wanted to feel you. that’s okay, right baby?” he shushes you, keeping his cock buried deep inside you.

you lay back against the pillows, your face contorted in confusion and worry. you nod. “o-oh, y-yeah… okay, daddy…” you immediately comply. you trust your dad. whatever he’s doing.

your voice is weak, eyes burning and you’re just so fucking tired. your state turns leon on even more. you don’t even comprehend what’s going on until you blink a few more times.

and then you realize it. your stepdads cock is inside of you.

“d-dad?” you say weakly, unable to move. your eyes shift around the room, scared to move, scared to turn around to face him.

“yeah?” he groans. “so naughty. leaving your daddy all alone all day.” he mumbles. “you’re gonna make it up to me, kay princess?” his voice is condescending, a bit mean, and it makes your pussy clench around him. yet your face tells a different story. you’re on the verge of tears. why is this happening? he laughs breathily into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you want this just as much as him. even if you don’t realize it yet.

your mouth is slightly open, unable to breathe through your nose due to your sickness. you feel dizzy, your body hot and sweaty and leon begins to thrust, pounding into you relentlessly from behind. your body is completely limp in his hold, his left hand digging into your thigh harshly as he keeps your leg up in the air.

you cry out, your body feeling so fragile and sore. he’s just making it worse. this isn’t right. but why are you so wet? your panic increases by the second.

“d-dad! stop! this is so bad,” you sob. “t-this is sooo wrong!”

his thrusts are forceful, taking exactly what he wants from you with no mercy. he can sense your energy waning, your body growing weaker as you try to fight back. he drops your leg, reaching around to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“oh, it feels wrong, does it?” he growls. “but i know you want this, baby girl. fight all you want. pussy’s fuckin’ crying for me.” he feels your body trembling, little whines and cries falling from your pretty mouth.

you feel so overwhelmed, thrashing in his hold, tears falling from your eyes. you don’t even know what you want, a pure mess, brain mushy and can’t think straight. your movements are futile against him. “s-stop! stop! hurts, daddy! please…” he’s huge, practically splitting you in two on his dick.

“no, no, baby. you be good for daddy. you don’t wanna make daddy angry, hmm? bad girls don’t get to cum, you know.” his voice is surprisingly soft, yet so fucking condescending it makes a sob erupt from you. he pulls all the way back out, before slamming his entire length back into your pussy.

“d-daddy,” you cry. “please!” you’re shaking so much, poor baby. your pussy keeps clenching, sucking in his cock before trying to spit him out.

“awww.” he coos. “does daddy’s cock feel too big for your tiny little pussy, baby girl?” he slows his thrusts, giving you some time to adjust. you can feel your heartbeat racing in every part of your body, especially in your cunt. you’re thankful he slows down. you can really feel him this way, feel how every ridge drags deliciously against your walls. it feels too good now. you want to cum. you need to cum.

however, leon doesn’t like taking it slow. “don’t worry, honey. i know you can take it.” he resumes a faster pace, your entire body bouncing from the force. your sobs of pain and discomfort quickly turn into whiny moans of pleasure, no matter how much you try to fight it.

he grabs your cheeks roughly, squeezing them, making your lips pout as he turns your head towards him slightly. he kisses at your tears, tasting the saltiness on your face.

“you’re doing so well, my precious little toy. you’re such a good girl for taking all of daddy’s cock.” he praises, causing you to subconsciously relax a little, letting him sink deeper into your cunt.

“thaaaats it, princess,” he continues, bottoming out and stilling for a moment again. he kisses your neck hungrily, breathing in your scent once again. “you ready to cum for daddy, my little bunny?” he teases, his voice dripping with control. you whine in response, that dumb little brain of yours not able to form words. “beg for it, baby. show me just how badly you need it.” he ruts up harshly into you one time, urging you to speak. it causes you to gasp out a broken moan.

“p-please… please.. need ‘t cum…” it’s a weak response, but you truly aren’t able to conjure up anything better. your hips have a mind of its own, grinding back on leon’s cock desperately searching for release.

leon would want to make you beg for it until you were screaming, but he had to have some type of consideration for his sick baby, right?

he doesn’t respond to your begging, only continuing to pound into you. it feels so good you feel like you’re about to pass out, head empty and dizzy.

he reaches around once more, slapping your bouncing tits a few times, making you gasp. you throw your hands up, trying to stop him but he easily swats your hands away and continues. his fingertips drop down harshly right on your hard, sensitive nipples. “nuh uh, baby. what did i say, huh?” he threatens in a high pitched, taunting baby-like voice.

“‘m sorr- sorry, daddy!” you cry out, hiccuping, your voice hoarse.

“mm, it’s okay, my sweet girl. ‘s brave, endured so much for daddy. go ahead and cum, baby. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he says through gritted teeth. he stops his assault on your tits, bringing his hand down to rub at your puffy clit.

your hand wraps around his wrist, pushing it down harder against the swollen nub. he smirks at this. your lip is drawn between your teeth, body going stiff as you near your release.

“cmon, baby. be a good girl for me. wanna feel that tight pussy cum around my cock. you want it, don’t you?” he encourages, his balls drawing up, so so so close to cumming inside of you.

“mhm, mhm, mhm!” you moan, nodding your head once you feel your orgasm approaching. your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back into your head, body convulsing as you cum hard. your head is thrown back, resting on leon’s shoulder. he places kisses on your temple, holding you tight through your release.

he starts rutting into you like a rabbit as he cums, shooting his load deep into your womb, offering a warm satisfaction in your lower belly. his thrusts turn into slow, sharp ruts, making sure your cunt takes everything he has to give.

“fuck, baby.” he grunts, his body convulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. he stays inside of you for a moment. both of you are breathing hard and you sigh tiredly. he moves the hair from out of your face, kissing you sweetly on the cheek.

your cheeks are red and puffy, stained with tears. you feel so good, you can’t even be upset at what just happened. in fact, you want it to happen again.

exhaustion washes over you. your thoughts, your morality… it can wait for the morning.

“go back to sleep, sweet girl. daddy will take care of you. love you so much, princess.” he kisses your forehead, nosing your hairline, inhaling your sweet scent. he just can’t get enough. such a perfect little girl, and now he’s claimed you. his perfect little girl, all for him.

[petite-ursus]

My anxiety is still percolating.

I think it's both the changing of the seasons and then just... three straight months of drinking and staying out late every single weekend (no ragrats.)

I took this weekend off from drinking and went cozy. Normal weekly walk, then went to the the thrift store, got a nice new leather jacket (for $7!!!), wandered an antique store, got some new plants from a local plant store. Rearranged the house a little, sort of in preparation of winter. Give myself new things to look at, and nice plants to be surrounded with as the winter months come in. Crocheted every night for admittedly way too long.

And today. Still anxious. Like. It's not wild. It's actually annoying. If you've had anxiety for a long time maybe you understand. Analytically I know the source. Analytically nothing has changed and everything is fine. But physically, it's just a pervasive feeling in my chest. Little flutters. Tightness in my throat. Tired. Like I want to go home and sleep after work, but I know (aNaLyTiCaLlY) that going to the gym will make me feel better. But also, when my anxiety is high like this the cardio portion of the workouts tend to be hard which is embarrassing (to me) because I have to take more rests during the workout so my heart rate doesn't spike and I don't have a panic attack. :) So. One of the things that will absolutely help me feel better will also stress me out potentially.

I have a climbing date this Saturday. Then a concert with friends Sunday.

Next weekend is blissfully blank, so probably another stay in weekend.

Then the weekend after that hair, more climbing, and the ren fair.

Then camping.

I'm both glad I have these scheduled reasons to keep poking my head out of the house... and also... part of me wants to cancel everything. Almost sold my concert ticket to get gear for camping... And half want to cancel the camping and just stay home but off work for those days... aha.

It is going to be cold, and I believe I can make it cozy and fun, but it's going to be highly dependent on the weather. If it looks like it's going to rain the whole time I really may pass... I want to go. I want to camp and hike and collect rocks... I just wish it wasn't 10hrs from home. That part makes it such an ordeal... And even though I'm not new to camping I haven't camped for more than a day since before The Time of Darkness and the time of year I'm going is just a little less forgiving than say early summer. Wet, chilly...early dusk.

Kind of over dating. Did it all summer... have so many matches and unread messages... Don't think I have another yap session with a stranger in me. I just. Don't like anyone. I'm still at a point where even when I think someone seems nice a part of me thinks "Well you thought Haley was nice too. Anyone can be nice in the beginning." And it's just... still not fun. I still want a slow burn with someone who I can get to know and trust and then find feelings... not someone for whom I've decided I'm going to have feelings... and then discover if they're trustworthy after when I've already become invested. I know pretty clearly what I want and what does and doesn't work for me, I'm way more cutthroat in when I call things off/honoring that, which I think is good... but... it shrinks the dating pool quite a lot... and... You know. There are still things I want.

I'd really like... to be able to smoke myself into a coma one weekend without being afraid of agonizing pain. But. It's. Fine.

[beautifullydisasterouskae]

Feeding

Kae:  Christmas season, the smell of apples and spices in the air. The cool air around my loft stirred from a cracked open window frame, the soft twinkling of white lights are lit up as I sort out and untangle the lines, replacing the burned out bulbs and stepping lightly around the boxes littered around the floor. I hold my arm up as I drape the line of lights around the Christmas tree’s top leading downward. Luna is sprawled out longways, white paws up and batting at the dangling bulbs as I string them along. I laugh lightly, a sigh escaping me as I wondered how Havyn was. She’d been distant some. Not physically distant, but mentally. I had a feeling my new friend kept something welled up deep inside. I dared not approach the subject until Havyn felt ready. She was skittish and shy from my first impressions so I tended to tread lightly and tried to do whatever I could to help her feel more comfortable and feel like she was able to open up. Over Thanksgiving we had a nice gathering. The kitchen held up through the onslaught of flour and cooking disasters we tested. All in all the meal was edible and quite pleasant with Luna and I enjoying the company of our new friends Havyn and Spaz. The last few weeks or so I hadn’t seen Havyn much between my shifts at Club Trisk. The nights were spent with me still trying to find my niche in the submissive world. I was little by little opening up myself to the lifestyle. Things at the club seeming much more calmer since the reappearance of Mistress and her rise from the dead so to speak. We had all assumed she was gone, but the Head Mistress was right at home, resuming her place at Club Trisk. I’d been keeping a bit of distance myself from Ashley, my latest fanged fan. I snort out a low laugh. She was good for a nice nip here and there between the plasma bags; at least whenever I could get away from her clingy routine, but I was growing weary with her. I shake my head, starting to add the rest of the decorations to my evergreen. The sleeves of my light sweater bunched up to my elbows while I worked. The weather was cool here in Los Angeles, nothing like the snow frost winters in Colorado. I had to admit missed the crisp mountain air, the airy hikes in the wooded lands. Maybe I’d make a visit this Christmas and see how things were doing back in my old home town of Denver. With a somber sigh thinking of Colorado I turn away from the spruce. I wondered what ever happened to Jez. I thought I’d seen her at the club briefly, a familiar sight that I often painted across a blank canvas during my trances. I still held hope I’d run into her someday. I step back from the twinkling tree, the finished product producing a satisfactory smile across my features. I move back across the room to begin the clean up and storing away of boxes when a crinkled, muffled cat meow breaks into my hearing. I lift my eyes to the window’s ledge, a damp and pinkened Spaz comes into view, his small paw clawing across my glass pane. Spaz? What the… I stumble upright, my feet skittering across the flooring toward the window. My nostrils flare out catching a strong whiff of blood. Fuck, shit, damn. Was Spaz injured? Oh Goddess no. I scoop Spaz into my arms, lifting him precariously to inspect for any cuts or damage. I swallow down in relief a moment not seeing any open wounds before my heart drops into my stomach. Havyn. Where is Havyn, Spaz? I rush out the door, the lean Siamese cat squirming free to land at my feet. Luna is scampering behind the pair of us, our pace hurried down the block toward the book shop. My heart pounds up into my throat hoping and praying with everything I had that Havyn was fine and alive. Please let her be okay. I whisper out, my hands shake as I yank the shop’s door open. A bell rings out, my calls for Havyn going unanswered as I follow the bloodied paw prints across the floor leading toward a crumbled and bloodied Havyn. Havyn, oh dear Goddess! Wake up!

Havyn:  Somewhere through my subconscious I hear a voice penetrating the darkness that has been holding me under its spell. I want to rise up and answer it, my eyelids fluttering, trying to open as I hear Kaela’s voice faintly next to me. My body hurts everywhere, burning and aching. What happened? I remember glass and blood, lots of blood. I remember scraping the mark on my chest open. The possession mark placed on me by Zakradark that I wanted to get off me forever, creating a great gash that bled so much it dripped, no, streamed freely into a sink sprinkled with glass. I wanted to get rid of it and I did. Everything comes rushing back to me. The vase smashing the mirror, my fist punching a hole through the wall, the meow of Spaz as I roughly pushed him away… Oh god, Spaz! Is he okay? How long have I been out of it? I feel so weak but I finally pry my eyes open enough to see her hovering above me, next to the bed. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. It takes a few tries before my voice comes out gravely. Feed… Need… Blood… I trail off. I hadn’t fed for almost a month and losing this much blood is nearly killing me. I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and they shut, darkness falling upon me again.

Kae:  I blink down at Havyn with watery eyes ready to spill over. I’m trying to process what happened and what is going on. Havyn’s chest is caked with dried blood, gnarly tears into her flesh. I’m sniveling, my forearm and free hand slashing away the tears that have shed. Spaz and Luna are pacing around the foot of the bed with a whining worried cries. There are mirrored shards broken across the tiled floor of the master bathroom, red smear trails nearing the bed where I’d found Havyn laying. I snap my honey brown eyes down on her when she cracks out hoarsely that she needed blood. Yes. Blood. My fangs punch down and lengthen my pale wrist scoured over the vein with a hissing wince. My blood pools to the surface, Havyn jolted up as I lift her upper body and bring her slack mouth toward my bleeding vein. Drink, Havyn. You need to heal. My fangs pierce into my lower lip as I brace for her impending bite.

Havyn:  There is liquid pouring into my mouth and I swallow convulsively. Blood, sweet blood. I want more… My mind turns feral after having been without sustenance for so long and even weak, I grab onto the arm that the blood is pouring from. My fangs pierce into the flesh, and I begin to suck the ruby liquid into my mouth. This blood is different, stronger… unlike anything I’ve tasted before. The taste is coppery with a hint of sugar and it bursts decadently on my tongue. My grip turns tighter as my strength is returning, and begins to overflow. My eyes fly open, staring into Kaela’s brown ones, locking together as I try to make myself stop. I have never ingested vampire blood before and I don’t want to stop, but she is my friend and that registers in my mind. I reluctantly pull my fangs from her, still staring at her in the eyes. I feel the pure power well up inside of me, shaking walls in the store, and lightning crashing outside.

Kae:  A strike of fear laces through my being infused with a wave of lust and pleasure at the bite. My body undulates at the piercing pricks of Havyn’s razor-sharp fangs, a husky moan escaping me as I’m caught breathless. My heart drums in my ears, a faint roaring causes me to tremble in my seat half hung off the edge of the bed. I clutch Havyn’s shoulder tight, my nails digging into her flesh some as a tremendous surge of power roams over me. An indescribable heated rolling wave moves through me, the strength pushing me back. I pant out roughly, fangs peeking over my full lower bottom astounded by the shop rocking on its foundation. Her mouth and fangs disengage from my fragile wrist vein, Havyn’s pupils glowing a golden hue along with her aura which is more visible to my eyes.What the hell just happened? I’m dazed and confused, the cats are nowhere to be seen. Most likely having run off when that bolt came out nowhere. I stare completely gobsmacked down at her inclined in my arms still. What– what was that?

Havyn:  I blink and lick at the blood on my lips before answering. I’m not sure to be honest Kaela. My brow furrows as I use my arms to slip myself into a sitting position, freeing her hold. I look down at my chest, the raw wound no longer there, the skin having knitted together. I absently brush at the dried blood and sigh at the amount of glass I need to pluck from my body. I look back at Kaela shyly, knowing damn well what my bite does to beings and I stutter. I… I, I’ve never had vampire blood before. Maybe it is that? Then I remember my eyes in the bathroom mirror and I bring up a hand, my fingers touching around the fragile bone sockets. What color are my eyes?

Kae:  My eyes stay locked on Havyn’s soul penetrating golden pupils. She looked so different. Not from my vital healing blood, but something else more intense. I stammer out, swallowing down any nerves. Havyn mouths slowly, her voice more clearer than before yet my brain can’t distinguish the words just yet. I lave over the raw open wound over my wrist, tilting my head back to her. I’ve never had anyone have that reaction to a feeding before, Havyn. I furrow my brow, standing free from the bed after you’ve sat upright. I shift my eyes away, turning back over my shoulder as I search for a cloth to help you wash the blood free from her body. Your eyes? I drop my head with a shake as I wring out the damp cloth and return. They are gold. Do they normally change after a feeding, Havyn? I step cautious around the broken pieces of glass over the floor.

Havyn:  I take in a deep breath, followed by another and another until I’m about to hyperventilate. They are gold, just like when I went crazy in the bathroom. What is wrong with me? The lightning… I remember the tempest outside as I cried, sitting in the broken glass. I look over at Kaela who has brought me a hand cloth to clean myself with. I busy myself with that, the beige terry cloth quickly turning a rusty color. I glance back at her and bite my lip for a moment before answering. No. I’ve never seen them change to that color until I destroyed the bathroom. I remember feeling intensely emotional and then when I looked into the shattered mirror, they were that color. It was storming outside as I… I stop. Part of me wants to tell Kaela the whole damn story of Zakradark and myself. Zakradark. The love I once had for him has now faded since I let loose. … it doesn’t matter. I start picking more pieces of glass out of my palm, wincing at the prickles of pain before dropping them on the nightstand. The room is silent except for the tinkle of glass as it drops to the wood.

Kae:  I sit mesmerizingly quiet while watching Havyn pluck the tiny mirrored splinters from her palms. So she wasn’t attacked, or harmed by another. I guess that’s good news in a way. I remain in my thoughts a moment longer. She was still holding back. I couldn’t for the sake of me think why or what she was hiding away in her mind and memories. It was her choice to open up and share more. Heck I was still a stranger to Havyn. I couldn’t very well expect her to share her innermost thoughts and secrets. I force a calm smile on my lips, Havyn looking more rosy and robust with my blood working through her body. Placing my hand soothingly over her, trying to help keep her from hyperventilating. Calm down, Havyn, whatever it is that’s going on with you. I’m sure there’s an answer… somewhere. I sigh out, worrying the corner of my lip. Maybe it’s some new mood detector thing? I lift my shoulders trying to lighten the mood. I didn’t want my friend to worry and I was willing to do whatever I could to discover what was going on with her.

Havyn:  The hand on my back is soothing and helping me to calm down. I let out a soft laugh when Kaela mentions ‘mood detector’. I sigh. I should really tell her some parts of my history. I slide my eyes over to her. There was a man… that I was in love with, but he left when I… I can’t even talk about Zakradark right now, so I go down another path, knowing that my speech is coming out broken. I lost months of my memory Kaela and I can’t get them back, no matter how hard I try. Kaela… I stare into her eyes pleadingly… I don’t think I’m an ordinary vampire like I thought I was. I swallow. Can you help… me?

Kae:  My smile turns more genuine, my body easing up when my ears pick up Havyn’s gentle laughter. When I hear it’s a man problem I want to bark out a growl about no good men, but I see that hurt lingering in her eyes. Her words broken and choked up about this fellow. I sink back on the mattress to rest on my palms and contemplate all I’d just learned. She’d had her memory taken from her, and lost someone she loved dearly, not to mention going through something that seemed much bigger than her. Something that Havyn was completely lost about. No idea of the direction to go. I nod emphatically. Of course I’ll help you, Havyn. This can’t be as bad as it all seems. Break ups happen all the time. I swallow hard, sit up and wave my hands through the air trying to brush all the emotionally draining energy from us. One way or another we’ll find out what exactly you are and what it is you’re going through. I stand up, offering her a hand up. I planned to help her clean up the glass and get some more food into her. The blood would continue heal Havyn, the food would help bring her strength back up to where it was before.

[songforeddiemunson]

! ✨️ If you get tagged in this, answer with ten random facts about yourself, and then tag some people. Anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog ✨️

Thanks so much for the tag @eravanaaaah!

1. I really want so many tattoos. Like, gimme a full sleeve, put them everywhere. But I'm a wimpy wuss who is afraid of pain, so I have none. :(

2. I can sing and have a great ear, but I can't play any instruments. I used to be a soprano when I was young, but years of smoking and neglect have turned me into an alto at best, maybe a contralto. My voice is weak too, I need to strengthen it. Though last weekend I got drunk and belted Can You Hear the People Sing from Les Mis at karaoke and my soprano came out and surprised everyone (including myself). It felt so nice to have it back for a moment.

3. I have been married for several years but we choose to remain childless. We have two cats and a doggo and that suits us perfectly.

4. I quit smoking nearly two years ago, but still desperately want to smoke.

5. I work for a non-profit charity in the public affairs department. I lobby politicians for progressive causes, draft and edit press releases and fundraising mailings, help organize events, and things of that sort. If you follow me on main, you'll see me occasionally yelling about republicans (sorry about that).

6. I love writing. I think I'm pretty good at it, been at it for decades. But this fandom is already full of so many great writers I'm afraid to really dive in.

7. Meat and potatoes is my favorite kind of dish (give me gravy). Next would be Italian dishes and pan-Asian cuisine (noooodles!), Mexican food, and anything covered with cheese. Or just cheese. I will devour a whole block of cheddar.

8. Hubby and I like to hike. There are a lot of mountains not far from where I live and we are trying to climb basically all of them. Nature is my happy place. We hike all year except for when it's really hot (then I swim and kayak instead) and winter hiking is amazing.

9. I am a summer child and truly love to swim and play in the warm weather, but I also go bonkers for autumn and halloween.

10. I am an atheist but I love mythology. I'm also a huge history buff and considered pursuing it professionally before I got into lobbying and politics.

No pressure tags for: @sweethearteddiemunson, @joequinnmybeloved, @amethyst-serenade, eddington-munson, @kwistowee and whoever else wants to have a go.

[p-redux]

It's has been that cold. Bullshit. We've been hiking and surfing. Stop with your lying. He looks terrible. Maybe was sick.if he wasn't positive he has no valid reason for postponing NZ and screwing over Graham and the crew there, except for his own screw up on travel which his production company not Starz is responsible for or he just wanted another vacation after 5 he's already had this year . He's suck, an idiot, or the usual narcissist. take your pick.

I just watched the move “Being the Ricardos” about Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, so let me ‘splain some things, oh frothy one. 

Los Angeles finally got some sun the last few days, but up until then, for the past two weeks it was COLD and rained most days. Granted, when I say cold, I mean cold by L.A. standards. Most native Angelinos break out the parkas, wool scarfs, beanies, and mittens if it gets below 65, myself included. Having said that, the last few weeks have been in the low 50s AND raining. So, unless you’re from the Midwest, the East or a country with cold winters, NO ONE in L.A. has been hiking or surfing in the RAIN. Actually, let me take that back, the only people surfing are hard core surfers. And they wear wetsuits, when the freaking Pacific water is below 50, ya dope. I cannot stress enough how COLD and RAINY the last few weeks have been in L.A. I don’t remember a Christmas that actually felt like a Christmas and this one did, weather wise. We’re always saying “Aw, man why can’t we get a white Christmas like they write about in all those songs, it’s annoying that Christmas here is 75 degrees and sunny.” Well, THIS year it wasn’t your typical L.A. Christmas. 55 degrees and raining is practically snow here, okay. Have I made it clear how unseasonably cold it felt? 

So, don’t come to MY blog to call me a liar. The weather is nice NOW, but it was not for a few weeks. And that’s a FACT. Unless you’re from a place where it actually snows on Christmas, then by all means wear your bikini and go surfing and hiking in 50 degree rainy weather, ya freak. Everyone else was COLD and stayed inside. Capisce?

As for Sam looking “terrible,” um, pretty much every man on this planet would kill to look this ☝ “terrible.” Sam looks great. Baby just has chapped lips, because as I said up above, it’s COLD in L.A. AND L.A. is extremely DRY right now. I’m lathering myself in cocoa butter, olive oil, and 30 year old Crisco, and barely making a dent in keeping my skin from cracking. So, no, Sam doesn’t look sick, he just needs someone to dab some Chapstick on those beautiful lips and some lotion on his angel face, and he’ll be juuuust fine.

And this 👇 pic was just posted a few hours ago, does Sam look “sick” to you? Or maybe you’re just proving that Extreme Shippers and disgruntled Ex-Shippers have bad eyesight and little working cognitive function, and they CONTINUE TO MISCONTRUE REALITY.

Sam obviously had a GOOD REASON for postponing his trip to New Zealand and given he stayed in Los Angeles aka Hollywood aka the entertainment capital of the world, it would seem logical it was WORK RELATED. And had nothing to do with him being a “Covid-ridden idiot narcissist who needed another vacation” to paraphrase you. Trust me, anyone who came to L.A. the last few weeks looking for a warm, sunny holiday was sorely disappointed. 

Anon, if you think so badly of Sam, then WHY pay any attention to anything he does? You and yours are SO bitter and miserable. Find a fandom and a celeb that makes you HAPPY. 

So, I propose a New Year’s Resolution... take the stick out of your ass, step away from anything having to do with Sam, and go find something that puts a smile on your face. Novel idea, I know. 

[ridetherain]

Some Zelink parenting to make me feel better. Happy Mother's Day to the mothers.

Superpower

Words: 2094

"Link," Zelda said, "Can you hold the baby for Rhondson? She's agreed to fit me for that cold-weather gear we agreed on."

I gave her a swift nod and cautiously took the sleeping bundle. Rhondson spent a moment adjusting my arms and grip before she gave my head a pat and bustled behind a partition with Zelda.

I let the two women's discussion of what color and cut would be best for our adventures fade to the back of my mind as I wandered around the recently expanded shop. Rhondson had moved on from just Gerudo styles to add some Rito cloth (likely due to Fyson's enterprising) and even a few water-resistant options. None were as good as my Zora armor, but still quality fabric.

Zelda and I have spent the last several years touring Hyrule and stitching the disparate peoples into one community. Zelda steered any discussion of retaking the throne to a more democratic direction and, after we married, I understood her fear and supported democracy wholeheartedly. So instead, we found ourselves working as neutral parties and messengers throughout Hyrule.

The Rito outgrew their village a generation ago but resisted expansion into Hebra while the calamity ruled. Zelda and I were preparing for an extended survey of the mountains for a suitable location to build a new town.

I slowly circled the shop again and gave the baby a gentle bounce when Rhondson and Zelda's conversation turned into an argument.

"Rhondson! I'm going to be out in the wild for weeks! Roughing it! Sleeping in tents! Climbing mountains!"

"Just be careful! If you watch where you step then it shouldn't matter. You're the Princess! I won't have you leave this shop in anything but my best work! Besides, you said your jacket was white Before!"

"Hyrule is a democracy!"

I gave a little cough to remind them that other people exist. Zelda stepped out from behind the partition without a shirt on and glared at me. I smiled and covered the sleeping baby's eyes with one hand.

"Zelda!" I scolded, "Madison will see!"

She stuck her nose in the air and spoke to Rhondson without looking away or moving out of sight.

"Fine. Just do the pink then. Anything but white."

I smirked and tried to cover it by looking down and pretending to be fascinated by Madison's habit of sleeping while I'm holding her. Zelda hated pink. When I chanced a glance back up I saw immediately that I did not trick her and the thoughtful look on her face meant she was already planning her revenge.

---

Her revenge sucked. For me, anyway, I'm sure she enjoyed herself. My beautiful Rito set of winter gear was dyed. The jacket was a horrendous yellow and, predictably, the pants were pink. Every time she caught sight of me she started laughing. Worst of all, she clearly used some of our best ingredients to dye her pink jacket to a nice shade of dark blue so I'm the only one looking ridiculous.

The Rito children all loved my colorful appearance when we returned with our survey results. Kaneli was polite enough not to comment, but pretty much everyone else in the village did and by the time I got to the children I gave up and just let them hang on me and enjoy the mismatched clothes.

Zelda flashed me another smile at the sight of my clothes but stayed out of the fray with Amali.

"Mister Link? I'm tired."

"That's good," I said, "It's pretty late, so you're supposed to be tired."

Cree thought hard about what I said for a minute. Her little face scrunched up and I subtly glanced at my wife. She was glaring again. Cree gave a nod and wandered off to her bed with a sleepy "'night Mister Link" and the rest of the children followed her out. I gave Zelda my full attention.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

I sighed. She'd tell me eventually. Or maybe not. Sometimes she forgot. I suppressed a smile at the thought. She'd been ridiculous lately, but after the stress of this trip is out of her system I was certain she would get back to her usual self.

---

Zelda did eventually get back to her usual self. By the time we got back to Hateno, Zelda was on another project and writing furiously in her journal. For once she wasn't letting me in on the project and didn't think out loud other than complete incomprehensible gibberish. The notebook she was using had lists drawn up of completely random words under number headings with no context.

Whatever she was into this time was pretty big and was taking all her energy. She didn't consult books which probably meant she was working on ancient technology again. That's the only subject she knew better than any book written. Eventually, I decided I needed to say something. She wasn't taking proper care of herself. She was eating well, but she wasn't out walking as much and it showed a little. She would be angry with herself when she pulled out of her project and found herself unable to hike up to the tech lab with me.

"Zel? Want to come up to the pond with me? We can go swimming."

"No, sorry, I'm a little busy today."

"You've been busy a lot lately. What have you been working on?"

Zelda looked nervous when she flipped the pages back and turned them to face me. I looked curiously at the lists she's been working on.

"One... Significant people... Sleep... Sitting... What is this?"

"Developmental milestones."

I still didn't understand. She grimaced and pushed her hair back from where it had fallen in front of her eyes. It revealed the dark circles from lack of sleep.

"For children."

"Oh..." I looked at the list again, "Did Amali ask for help? Is something wrong with one of the girls?"

"No, it's not for her... It's for us."

I was going through each girl one at a time and considering the items on the list. None of them stuck out to me.

"I wanted a clear timeline. Amali said there wasn't a book on how to raise a child, but I'm so worried about forgetting something so I figured I would write everything I could think of down and ask as many people as possible."

It took a minute for her words to filter into my head. I decided that Kheel was a little behind her sisters, but that was fine because she was the youngest. And Madison was too little still for most everything on the list. My muscles seized up and my breath started coming quicker. I spent one terrifying moment tense without knowing why I was so afraid.

"For... us..."

The room was tilting. This must be what Zelda means when she says she doesn't like being on the Sheikah towers.

"Yes, Link. Who else would I do this for?"

Okay. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Zelda was still talking. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Make sure you understand.

"You're pregnant." I said, confirming.

"Yes."

"With a baby."

She scrunched her nose at me.

"Yes with a baby. What else would I be pregnant with?"

I finally looked up into her eyes and her whole face softened at me.

"Oh, Link, don't panic. Yes, I'm pregnant. We're going to have a little baby here next spring. You're going to be a wonderful father."

My heart stuttered in its rhythm at the word "father." My hyperventilating stopped. My breathing stopped. Something wet hit my cheeks and I realized I was crying. I looked through blurry eyes at Zelda and saw her smiling back at me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just panicked. And I thought you'd stop our Hebra survey early if you knew."

The happiness I had started to recognize was immediately shoved out of the way for my terror.

"You were pregnant!" I fairly screeched in her face. I opened my mouth to shout at her some more, but nothing came out. I didn't have words that matched my fear so I closed my mouth and stared at her with wide eyes. The hyperventilating was back.

---

I was unbearable. I know I was because Zelda told me so repeatedly. I was mostly fine until it became obvious that she was pregnant. Something about the visual of a bump made the child more real than her words ever could.

We visited Kakariko, but I refused to take her further afield than that. Madison was almost a year old now and we hadn't seen her since before I knew of Zelda's pregnancy. Rhondson sent letters and I know Zelda wanted opinions from another woman who had recently given birth, but it was too far and too dangerous. I flat-out refused to let her teleport with the Slate. She was so angry with me that she kicked me out of the house and I had to spend the night at our cookpot. I told her I took a room at the inn. When I tried to convince her to let me move the bed downstairs she finally put her foot down and I was left to grumble.

She's due in a couple weeks and I've timed myself at running to the midwife. It takes seven minutes for me to get there and it will probably be more to bring her back.

Zelda had her feet up in front of the fire since the winter chill hadn't quite left Hateno yet despite the start of spring. Her hand was rubbing gentle circles into her stomach.

"Link, I need your superpowers."

I smiled at our little joke. My skill at putting children to sleep extended to settling an unborn child's kicking. I sat on the floor next to her and leaned my head cautiously against her just in case the baby decided to kick me in the face. Again.

"Come on, kid. Your mom needs some rest." I took over the circling with my hand and hummed the lullaby Zelda taught me.

Zelda sucked in a sharp breath. I hummed a little louder and used my free hand to take hers and gave it a squeeze.

"Link?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't panic..."

I immediately tensed at the words and looked up at her. Her eyes were tense and a grimace was frozen on her face.

"I need you to go get the midwife."

"You're not due yet," I said stupidly, "we have another two weeks."

Zelda gasped again. I shot to my feet and hovered over her.

"Okay, okay," I said, "Just... Stay here... I'll... Okay..."

I rushed to the door and wrenched it open. Seven minutes plus however much time it takes to get back. I glance back at Zelda. It goes against the grain to leave her in pain. Maybe this is why the other Hero's didn't marry their Zelda.

---

Purah heard my headlong flight through town for the midwife and came down to visit after a few hours. The midwife roped her into helping with the birth and kicked me out of the house. I ended up waiting at the cookpot again while Symin filled the silence.

I shook like a leaf at the sound of Zelda's shouts and gasps. The wooden door only muffled so much. But the moment my child cried nothing could keep me out. I slammed the door open and rushed to the midwife. The woman had no patience for my "hysteria." She made me wait while the baby was cleaned and swaddled.

Zelda was exhausted. She was damp with sweat and weak. I held her hand and pushed her wet hair from her face. I could only glance at her occasionally. My attention was caught by the screaming child at our kitchen table. My child. Our child. The midwife brought the bundle of cloth to us and placed it in Zelda's arms. I helped her keep ahold of the baby - her arms were about ready to give out. The child barely paused for breath between cries.

"Link?" Zelda said, "I need your superpowers."

My hands shook as I arranged my arms as Rhondson had taught me and Zelda carefully passed the bundle to me. I hummed the tune I had been using for months and my superpower held. The cries lessened, but wide blue eyes blinked at me instead of closing in sleep. After so much time worried about pregnant Zelda that I didn't think to worry about my child. I was going to be unbearable.

A daughter.

[everettlance]

A LIVING DEATH // SELF-PARA

The flashbacks don’t take long to start. For a person who’s been transplanted into a new body, it becomes increasingly difficult to tell what’s real and what isn’t. He isn’t real because he can’t be real. The laws of possibility state strictly that the dead remain dead, and yet, here he is. The dead, walking through an empty home.

His new house is for him and him only. His parents and several siblings meet him at the train station when he gets home but he refuses to speak to any of them.

He can’t listen to what they have to say. He doesn’t want to hear it, whatever empty words they might have for him, or worse, if they have love.

No one is allowed in. Maverick is not allowed in, not even allowed to talk to him. He walks past Agatha’s empty house, the lights darkened. He often finds himself in Orpheus’s bed, discovering his new body, discovering that the only thing approaching pleasure is in the carnal. Nights slip by. His old weed dealer is happy to see him.

The first flashback is in his cavernous bedroom, which he learns is cold in the winters. It feels like the bitter mountaintop, and suddenly the covers are not simply cotton, but rather, a blanket of snow, and before him is Seraphina: Take care of yourself Everett, and I’ll catch you in the next lifetime, okay?

How? His voice is an echo and is begging. It is raw, he is raw. He’s not sure if he’s speaking aloud or not, but no one is here to confirm. How do I take care of myself, Sera, how?

She is trapped and so is he. She beneath the boulder, he beneath the memory of it. He knows he isn’t here but he doesn’t know how to get out; his heart pounds his ribcage as if begging to escape it.

Sera doesn’t tell him how to take care of himself. She doesn’t tell him how to run away. She doesn’t say anything but tells him, over and over: Even Crash Justice can’t muscle his way through this one.

And what if he can’t?

Hours spent paralyzed beneath the memories. It’s Seraphina, then it’s Marino, falling from the ferris wheel. It’s Margot, torn to shreds by the wolves. It’s Burly, slicing at his face — the scar recreates itself every time he looks at himself in the mirror, not a memory but a present happening. It’s Memphis’s silent begging. It’s Agatha:

You better fucking win.

I did it, he says, on his knees like he’s praying in his room, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, I did it. Now what?

No one will tell him. None of the ghosts know the answer because none of them lived.

Sloane and Tommy visit him together and he kills them both again. And again. And again. It becomes more difficult to discern reality from unreality. He tries to write things down: I am here, I am real, I am Everett Lance and I won the Hunger Games.

But it isn’t true.

He is Everett Lance and he lost the Hunger Games.

Both things cannot be true.

They are.

On the outside of the house is latticework up which vines crawl. It’s easy to grip, easier to fall from, and the first time he tries it, escaping the memory of Memphis, who lays dying on the beach in his bedroom, he nearly falls. He catches himself on a pipe, but in the moment where freefall felt certain, Memphis disappears. The sand is gone. Only he is here. Moments later, he’s on the roof.

He knows that he is losing it. The roof doesn’t care. He lays flat and looks at the stars. He looks at the tattoo on his arm and traces the waves with his fingers. This is how he knows he is a person, even if he doesn’t know who that person is.

Maverick leaves for Seven. It’s better this way.

There’s a thunderstorm one afternoon. The lightning sends him in two directions at once: he is in the forest, holding Delta’s body as she dies, and he is in the middle of a town, watching the sky spin.

Whose memories entrap him?

He climbs onto the roof, away from the bodies that pile in his room. The lattice is slippery and he nearly falls twice, three times. The roof is slippery. No one comes to stop him. He doesn’t die. He’s lucky.

The stylist comes and asks if he’s more loyal to the red or blue team, and which he’d like to wear on his Victory Tour.

He tells her to put him in black.

He goes for long runs. He drinks himself to sleep. He lets himself cry. Nothing helps. Only the roof, slippery, steep, his weight and himself clinging to the shingles, can quiet the other tributes and drown out the Arenas.

He goes hiking, blazing his own trail. He finds steep cliffs and sits on the edges. He wonders about falling. He doesn’t. He goes to the shooting range, hits the first target and drops the gun.

Never again.

Life moves both forwards and backwards at a dizzying pace. He ignores texts, calls. The Peacekeeping Academy wants to make a hero of him but he’s read what they said when he died. They dismissed him, said he was a traitor for volunteering.

He is a traitor but he’s not sure to whom.

Spring begins, though he will never again trust the seasons.

The day he leaves for the Victory Tour, District Two is shrouded in cold weather, common for this time of year, but when he arrives in District Twelve, warmth is beginning in the upper reaches of Panem.

It’s an honor to be here today…

In Twelve, no one stands on the podium before Margot’s photo. He doesn’t know who or what to look at and the ringing in his ears is his own panic. He speaks quickly. He doesn’t succumb to the memory of Margot’s death, though he can feel the dirt in his hands as he digs.

I’m so privileged to have been chosen out of so many tributes to come back for the Quell…

In Eleven, the weather is even warmer. Trees blossom but there are no green leaves or pink flowers in the square where the stage is set up. Apple’s face looks at him from the projection, but as in Twelve, no one stands before it. It was only her, the only tribute from her District chosen to return. He had told her he hadn’t wanted to kill. It feels like a lie now.

My love for Panem kept me going through the Arena…

In Eight, there are more faces: Marino, Nikita, Franklin, Jeannie. The four of them stare at him and he tries to avoid eye contact. For a moment he can’t tell if they’re real or not. Or if they were ever real. The cards: he reads from the speech he’s been given. Nikita and Franklin have no family present, but Hunter Twill stands in front of Jeannie’s picture in sunglasses, shooting him a thumbs up. In the recap, he saw Jeannie explode, but couldn’t see her face. He wishes he could have seen it. Could have buried her like he’d buried Delta and Margot. It was a dignity that she deserved but would never get. And Nikita, stronger than him, smarter than him — should she be here right now instead of him? Should they all? 39 Victors rather than him, it feels like more than a fair trade. And Marino’s family, he knows they’re looking at him. He knows that Margot is not the only guilty one. He’s the only one remaining to bear the burden. It’s too heavy. In Eight, he stumbles, stutters, the world tilts and he sees stars — the speech is cut short, he is brought off the stage, excuses are made for him that he doesn’t deserve. His new body is checked over, questioned: are you alright? Do you feel alright? They think it’s because he’s a clone, and he doesn’t know how to say it’s because of everything else they’ve done to him.

Even though it was difficult, the trials that the Gamemakers set us were always fair…

In Seven, Alder and Maverick are there. Maverick tries to talk to him but he doesn’t want to speak. He has been given no cards to tell him how to face his old best friend. Alder leaves him be which feels like more mercy than he deserves. Burly’s family stands tall and proud; they glare at him. He can’t look, he can’t look. He leaves Seven as quickly as he can.

Panem has always been strong through trying times, whether or not the trials we face are fair...

In Six, he walks onto the stage and is immediately in the woods of the Arena. Sloane is on the ground to his left, Tommy to his right. There is blood all over his hands, all over his notecards. Amphora’s family, her smiling face, she looks so happy. How could she be happy here in the Arena? Tommy’s family stands in front of his picture; a wolf, decaying like him, prowls in front of them. Hadn’t he mentioned a mother? He feels sick. He forces himself to look because he doesn’t want to be a coward. He adds one thing into his speech:

I’m sorry.

On the way to Four, he makes a request. As the train rumbles towards the ocean, preparations are made. One wish can be granted, surely, for the Victor of the Quarter Quell, the boy on whom the Capitol is leaning to bring peace. When he gets onstage, Delta’s face is one of four. The Dunes are there, he recognizes them by the family resemblance, and thinks of Mako in the Capitol, happy. The Blues pull his attention, though, and he sees immediately that she gets her red hair from her family. They do not look at him unkindly, and after the speech, for the first time, he lingers. He tells them he thought it would be nice; to remember her. That he wishes she would have been brought back. That she deserved the Victory. She deserves to be remembered. Above him, lightning flashes but he digs fingernails into palms and forces himself to remain here, in the present; it’s what they deserve.

The Blues invite him into their house. It is small and comfortable. They offer to show him her room but he doesn’t want to see, not yet. He says this: Not yet. Maybe I’ll come back. They thank him for protecting her and sticking by her side. In their home for the first time in months he feels like he’s real. He apologizes for not being able to save her and cries.

We are better as a united nation than we are as individual parts, and I was better in the Arena with my allies than I was alone.

In Three, he finds Seraphina’s parents. She’d asked him to tell them she loved him and he won’t break a promise, even if his hands are shaking. Even if his lunch threatens to make a reappearance as he faces, directly, the parents of the girl he killed. The McCabes are kind, though, understanding; they just want to know what he and their daughter spoke about and did. They haven’t seen her in ten years, never expected to get her back. He tells them about swimming in the pool, eating the last cookie and facing her wrath. It feels nice to have a good story to tell.

The relationship between the Districts and the Capitol is one of peace, mutual protection, and balance.

In One, many faces, many families, look back at him from the crowd. He is tired, his body is exhausted and the travel has worn him out. Throughout the trip he has been tested, they’ve taken blood draws and measured his heart rate, had him undergo various physical examinations to be sure that all is well. They want to make sure, they say, that the stress doesn’t wear him out in this new body. He thinks it’s funny and laughs, but they don’t seem to get what’s so humorous about it. Diana’s face; she had offered him mercy, hadn’t hurt him though she could have. In front of Mandi’s face is a crowded podium; she was right about having a big family. There are so many people who love her; his knees threaten to buckle under the weight of all that grief, but he holds it together on the stage. He’s getting good at pretending.

It’s one I am proud to be a part of as your new reigning Victor of the Quarter Quell.

He returns home last, and even though many of the Districts saw warmer temperatures, it’s snowing when he walks onto the stage to give his speech one last time, this time to his home. Before him are the faces of Lionel, Agatha, and Isabela. Only Isa has people standing before hers, her family. The snow falling — he wonders if the Arena is broken, because it’s supposed to be springtime now — doesn’t deter the crowds. The District is proud of their Victor, proud to have brought it home for the Quell and the second time in a year. Cain is there, Orpheus is there, Trixie’s there, he’s the only one who feels like he’s missing. Where is he? Where is this person they’re celebrating?

The speech is not his. It’s bad, cliche, and it feels sour in his mouth. In the other Districts, they hated it; a few people even booed, though they were swiftly punished for it. In Two, though, he sees people nodding. He sees hands over hearts. He feels sick. Sick in this place that made him. Sick with the altitude of the heights they’ve lifted him to.

Afterwards he is only allowed one night at home before he has to go to the Capitol for the ball. In the empty house, they are all speaking. Carlos, Travela, Memphis, Marino, Burly, Sloane, Seraphina, and Tommy. Their fingers press against the wallpaper, they want to get out, but they can’t any more than he can. Agatha is stuck telling him, over and over, to win. He’d better fucking win.

Why? he asks, but she never has a good answer for him.

He climbs up onto the roof. He looks at the stars and tries to place himself in the universe.

[atinytokki]

Paradise

v. Haneul’s Relapse 

“That’s quite a good pearl. If you want, I can help you wash it.”

San glanced up from the pearl he was rubbing and followed the teenage girl to the shallows, where she hiked up her skirts and bent low, skilfully cleaning off the little treasure without losing her grip on it.

Afraid it would wash away in the waves, San bit his lip and shuffled nervously the entire time. When the girl handed it back, he clutched it to his chest and thanked her shyly.

“Do you think... do you think you could make a necklace with it?”

The girl glanced at her sister and giggled, likely assuming San had a sweetheart to woo. “Of course.”

“It’s for my half-sister Haneul,” he explained quickly as he followed the three up the hill towards their house. “She’s sickly and sometimes she’s not well enough to come down to the beach, so...”

The girls suddenly stopped in their tracks, the younger one facing San with a curious expression on her face. “Do you live in the blue house over there?” She asked, pointing over the sand dunes to where his grandparents’ place was.

San nodded hesitantly and watched the sisters glance at each other again before explaining, “Your sister is one of our dad’s patients.”

It dawned on San the longer they stared at him. “You’re Dr. Hong’s children?”

The pair smiled at him and the oldest extended her hand. “I’m Eunkyung, this is my sister Eunae and our little brother is Inho.”

“Choi San,” he responded simply, shaking the offered hand. “We’re also neighbours then?”

“That’s right,” Eunae confirmed as she bent down to let little Inho climb on her back to be carried up to their house. “We always wanted to visit the blue cottage. It looks so cute and homely over there.”

“You should come by to deliver the necklace when we’re done with it,” San offered, feeling awfully proud of himself to have done such a grown-up thing as invite guests. “It’s also a carpentry shop. We have lots of lovely things to look at.”

After all, they were teenage girls and teenage girls liked looking at pretty things.

The doctor wasn’t in at the moment, presumably out on a visit with patients, so the three of them set up shop in the kitchen while Inho played with his toys on the floor.

San mostly just sat and watched the girls pick out shells and beads and string them together, setting the shining pearl in the middle of the necklace as a centrepiece.

When it was finished, they walked over to deliver it as the sun began to set, and more excited at the prospect of introducing Haneul to new friends than that of giving her the necklace, San raced through the shop to enter the house and inform her she had visitors.

A voice called out to him as he barrelled past the woodworking bench. “San! Where have you been?”

Halted in his tracks, San spun around, surprised, and blushed when he caught sight of the clock. He was supposed to be working, not playing.

“I met some friends on the beach and they wanted to see Haneul, so I thought—”

“I need you here, San,” Grandfather scolded, standing and brushing off his hands. “Go on, tell Haneul she has visitors, but I expect you back here as soon as you’ve let her know.”

Deflating, San apologised respectfully and trudged upstairs.

It was torture for him to sit there hammering boards together while he listened to Haneul come out of her shell, fast befriending the girls and talking more than he’d heard her talk in weeks.

When their guests departed to eat dinner in their own home, San selfishly wished they had a brother his age. Eunkyung and Eunae were nice but they were older and closer with Haneul than him as it was. And little Inho was fun to play with for awhile, but like most five year olds, he asked an insufferable amount of questions.

As San took a bite of his chicken, he distantly wondered if he was like that as a five year old.

“I’ve taken the liberty of inviting the Hong children to a picnic tomorrow,” Grandmother announced as she cleared away the empty dishes. “I can see you’ve taken to them, and I’m sure you children will enjoy a playdate before classes start up again.”

She gave Haneul a knowing wink and shuffled away to the kitchen. As usual, she knew everything.

Making steady friends was difficult with the coming and going of families for the winter holidays. As school sessions neared, fewer and fewer visitors arrived and Namhae began to go back to being a small fishing town instead of an island getaway.

Which meant the Hong children were more or less the only option for lasting friendship in the off season.

They all knew this, so they set up lunch on the beach with a smile the next day and chatted about anything and everything they could think of, determined to get to know each other better.

Inho was fascinated by San and had good fun playing pirates with him, using specially made wooden swords fashioned by Grandfather in a moment of indulgence.

Eventually they tired of the play and joined the girls for food. There was no opportunity to insert themselves in the conversation, so they simply ate in silence, enjoying the bird calls and flashes of sunlight from behind clouds.

“I’m going swimming!” Inho announced when he had finished his food, throwing off his shirt and facing the ocean.

“You should wait awhile so you don’t have a cramp,” San warned, throwing an arm over his eyes and laying back as the sun blazed out again. “And besides, the water’s a bit cold still.”

“I’ll be fine!” Inho yelled back, his voice more distant than it was before. San sat up and noticed the boy’s towel sitting beside him.

“You forgot your towel—”

“I can do it myself!” Inho insisted, returning to snatch up the cloth and going back over to the shallows, dropping it just out of range of the tides and entering the water.

San didn’t remember being that stubborn as a five year old, but he didn’t want to interfere. Clearly Inho liked doing things for himself.

“Will he be alright?” San asked Eunkyung, trying to keep his tone casual. She didn’t look at him but swatted a hand. “He knows how to swim, he’s fine.”

The girls resumed their conversation— something about a drawing they’d seen in a book somewhere— and San resumed his sunbathing.

A patch of clouds covered the sun again and he was so peaceful and full of good food that he drifted off into a daydream, cresting the waves in search of something. The wind took him faster and faster away from his island and he wondered where he was headed, until a faint noise jolted him into opening his eyes.

“Where’s Inho?” Eunae was saying, voice tight and nervous.

San sat up and swept his eyes over the shallows. He couldn’t see the boy anywhere.

A noise got caught in Eunkyung’s throat as San stood to get a better view.

He couldn’t have just disappeared, maybe he was snorkelling under the water, maybe he’d appear in a moment and laugh at their horrified faces.

“There!” Haneul shrieked, standing with support and pointing out into the ocean , almost all the way past where the farthest docks reached. “He’s caught in a rip current!”

The moment he saw him, San ran.

He sprinted harder than he ever had before and struggled against the resistance of the waves before swimming to where the boy was being dragged out to sea.

San felt the pull of the current himself when the sandbar under his feet gave way, and he relaxed and let it pull him to where Inho was struggling to get back to shore.

The boy was tiring, exhausted gasps leaving his chest as he periodically slipped beneath the waves, too worn out to tread water much longer. At the sight of San he choked out a whimper, scared pleas to save him being washed away with the surf.

“Hold on to me!” San instructed, easily lifting the boy in the buoyancy of the water but struggling to bring him back to shore himself.

In rushing out here to save him, San might have just put himself in danger as well.

The specks that were the girls on the beach grew smaller and smaller, and San’s whole body was wearied from holding the blubbering Inho above the water as he tried to pull them back. Swimming against the current wasn’t working, he had to think of another way.

Noticing the docks protruding from the town as they drifted far enough out to see them, San decided to head for the jetty nearest them, moving parallel to the shore and breaking out of the pull of the current.

Suddenly the ripping force was gone, and San’s sore muscles could give out, the sand meeting his feet as he finally waded ashore, Inho shaking and sobbing in his arms.

The girls had watched from the beach and ran to meet them, Eunae hurrying home to fetch their father and Eunkyung scooping up the traumatised Inho, drying him off and shushing him calmly.

Haneul moved forward and embraced San, and he melted into her arms with relief that he’d managed to save both of them and that Haneul had let down her walls and given him access again.

“I was so scared for you,” she admitted, a few nervous tears slipping out before she could hide them. “You’re a much stronger swimmer than I realised.”

As his breathing returned to normal, San glanced out at the ocean again. The weather hadn’t changed, it was as sunny and mild a late winter day as it had been before. The water sparkled a dazzling cerulean and promised only fun and refreshment, not death and terror. But those very same waves had nearly dragged him and Inho to their deaths and on his return to the picnic blanket, he realised the ocean was more dangerous than he thought.

All the more enticing to explore.

Dr. Hong arrived to check the boys over quickly and decided to take all three of his children home after the excitement they’d had, profusely thankful to San for his quick reaction and teasing that he wouldn’t mind keeping him around.

He wasn’t joking when he called him Inho’s official bodyguard.

For the entirety of the spring, San found himself coming to the rescue time and time again.

Inho trailed after him wherever he went, and San protected him from everything from bee hives and ant hills to thunderstorms and broken tree branches.

Most of the time it just entailed getting him back home to be bandaged up, and San was thankful such an accident prone boy had a doctor for his father.

On one such rainy afternoon in the summer, San was bringing Inho home after saving him from falling out the back of a carriage in town to have his sprained ankle looked at. Namhae was busy with droves of vacationers and none of them were good carriage drivers.

Dr. Hong was already with a client, and to his surprise, San realised it was Grandfather.

He was seated and his hands covered his face, bent over in some type of begging position, and the sight of him made San’s stomach churn.

There was no doubt it had something to do with Haneul.

She had been cooped up in her attic room the past week or so, but San had blamed it on the rain. Haneul was healthy enough to play with Eunkyung and Eunae after all, even if they talked more than they played.

Putting himself out of his misery, San pushed open the door and escorted limping Inho to his father.

“Oh dear, what happened!” The doctor cried, making a fuss for Inho’s sake but clearly unfazed by the appearance of a new injury.

Inho went on to explain and San greeted Grandfather, taking a seat next to him and inhaling that familiar musk of sawdust and tea.

“I’m sure you didn’t expect to see me here!” Grandfather chucked, having composed himself frighteningly quickly and forced on a smile. San knew the difference between that smile and Grandfather’s real one.

“Not really!” He chirped in response, kicking his legs as they hung from the chair. It was always awkward between them outside of the workshop, when neither knew what to talk about.

“You know, I’ve decided to extend an invitation to your father to come stay with us for awhile around your birthday,” Grandfather informed him, the real smile flashing when he saw San’s eyes light up at the prospect.

“Can I come to your birthday party too?” Inho asked from where his father was elevating his leg. “When is it, anyway?”

“Next month,” San explained, keeping a keen eye on the doctor’s activities.

“How many tomorrows is that from now?” Inho muttered, confused, and the rest of the room had a good laugh at his innocence, one that was not appreciated by the five year old.

True to his word, Grandfather mailed a letter to Father just as he’d done many times before, this time with a special offer enclosed. When Father arrived, he brought gifts with him— not just for San, but plenty for Haneul, too.

They’d missed out on seeing him for almost a full year, and there was everything to catch up on, especially with regards to current events.

The constant clanging and shouting from the garrison construction zone was a brand new sight for Father, and he spent a great deal of time frowning at it during San’s birthday party.

They all settled in for another rainy evening and Father administered Haneul’s medicine, a very familiar sight, while San wrinkled his nose from where he sat by the window.

He admired her for being able to stomach it every day, but he was ten now so he didn’t complain about such things.

Even on his birthday with Father showing more attention to his half sister than to him, San didn’t pay it any mind and continued to play until he was shooed out of the room.

“Off to bed, birthday boy,” Father hummed gently, nudging him away from the window. “The beach will still be there tomorrow.”

San stayed awake in his bed for as long as he could, paying attention to the amount of time Father spent speaking with Haneul before the telltale sounds of him moving back into his own creaked throughout the attic.

There was something serious going on with her, and San had a sneaking suspicion her health was the real reason Father was paying such a long visit, not his tenth birthday.

By the next morning, he knew he was right. Haneul had relapsed considerably and San was once again sent off to go play outside.

Only this time he had more than a few trees to mess around in, he had an entire ocean ahead of him.

...

A/N: It’s been way too long since I updated this one, but finally I got around to it! Hope it was worth the wait, and keep on the lookout for various other updates from me as I get on a summer schedule ;) Don’t forget to reblog and comment and have a good day!

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[calypsoff]

Five. Part 3

I will not let him put me in that place where I am getting annoyed, he doesn’t care he really doesn’t and here I am offering my pussy to him, I don’t know I really don’t. I can’t be playing these games; I certainly can’t have him paying near enough a thousand dollars for dinner that I offered to take him on “do I put you as Rihanna on my banking thing?” glaring up from my phone “put me as anything you want ok?” he raised eyebrow soon dropped “Rihanna the singer then” he mumbled “Chris the ex-convict then” I retorted, I may as well do the same as him, he let out a low chuckle which I don’t see how anything is funny but he sees the funny side to it “I sent it you anyways, keep the change” I got up from the table “did you have a good night here madam?” the waiter asked “oh I did, thank you so much. As always you do the best for me as such little time” he is always my waiter “I will probably see you again, soon” he bowed his head “follow me madam” smiling at him as he walked off, if Chris wants to follow on he can or he can sit there. Stepping down on step, I actually look so good and I wanted to be good and look good for him and what did I get? Nothing, I got nothing, and I should stay with Rakim least one of his boys check me out to make me feel I am good, I am just annoyed. Chris is doing too much, too much for me to just take it, it’s wrong and I don’t deserve the treatment, I want to take him out and I want to do things for him because I know him, I do. I make sure all my people are good, I never throw anything I do for them to their face, I came from a poor background and I knowhow it feels but he is trying to chase what he don’t got and I know it, I am only dealing with him once her can let that go, the bitter taste he has when he calls me Rihanna, I hate the feeling he is giving me.

My driver opened the car door for me, climbing into the SUV. I haven’t even looked to see if Chris is behind me, shuffling across because he is there. I mean I would have left him here if he didn’t, who am I to just wait here for a man that is being an asshole. Speaking of asshole men, I have Rakim facetiming me, facetime of all things but I will answer it. Answering the call and waited a second for it to connect “and where are you going with red lipstick? You always up to something when you got that on?” holding the camera up “am I? I just thought why not” Rakim smiled wide “I like it, you look good. You shining in this winter weather wow, I just thought I would call to see how you are, where you going? Actually, I seen you went on dinner with a male” I kind of figured “I did, nothing major just an old friend, nothing serious. Promise you, you know what they say about old friends, you got to keep them in the past” Rakim doesn’t understand my bitterness but I don’t care “you have to sometimes, they don’t know the person you are now. Cut them off, so I have a surprise for you. But, I ain’t telling you now” I wonder what the surprise is “right, I am scared now. But when will I see the surprise, do I get to wear red lipstick?” Rakim smirked “possibly but on Christmas day, you wear red. Just red, with the red lipstick. I promise you won’t be disappointed” either he’s coming to Barbados or he’s got me something that matches this red theme he got going “I will, I will call you tomorrow. I will be leaving for Barbados, I need some company on the lonely fight there” Rakim winked at me “I got you, bye” he disconnected the facetime “sorry, where are we going?” my driver asked “to the apartment thanks” I was wondering why my driver wasn’t moving.

I am glad he facetimed me, I am glad Chris is sat there quiet. I am not going to fuss over him like I was, I have been too nice to just be throwing the love word around when he just isn’t giving. He will always be a friend to me, even after this weekend I won’t hate him but it’s just sad that he’s letting his ego get the better of him and yes I did fall for that cocky Chris, his cockiness really made me crush on him even more but we are grown now, we are not like that, he doesn’t need to be that way. We wasted years, he wasted years and to know what I want and probably he does too to still be playing around but I am not giving. A smile formed on my face; I sense the anger from Chris. I can feel it, he is angry, and it’s made me smile, I am glad it bothered him so much. I am not crying about shit anymore, tomorrow once he is gone he can either jump or not jump and we will meet again one day. I can feel Chris’ eyes on me, I can feel the gaze and where he is even looking. He is staring at my legs and I can sense it, I want to know if I am right, dragging my eyes away from my phone and at Chris, he is looking at my legs and his eyes darted to mine, he is angry. I just smiled, he wanted me to not care and look at that I don’t “I hope you had a nice time here” I said “you’re funny” he said “I am funny? Says the man that can’t admit to what he wants because he sees a woman is doing good and he hates it, don’t give me that” his anger is getting the better of him “fuck you Robyn” I laughed “do it, fuck me then?” he is so funny.

This will be interesting, I mean I am not going to sleep in a different bedroom either, I like this bed. Taking my heels off, Chris hasn’t bothered to speak to me, and I prefer it that way, I am not going to bother to speak to him and he ain’t going to speak to me so there is that. Throwing my heels to the side, here I am looking good as fuck and I am back here already. Getting up from the bed, Chris walked into the bedroom, such an attitude and I can tell “I am actually sick of your shit” he has got a nerve “sick of my shit!? Oh my god, I have done nothing but want some loving from you, but you just give me shit and act like everything is ok” Chris looked so offended “are you fucking kidding me? Right, I made love to you! You and I both know this, now what huh? I am trying to make the fucking effort, what do you want? Tell me, what do you want from me?” staring at Chris “leaving you to it” I shrugged “I am going to do what you are doing, not caring” that is what he wants “but you are being malicious with it” walking off to the bathroom, screw him.

“Really, Chris?” I gasped; he is stood right in front of the bathroom door. I stepped to the side and so did Chris “what?” looking up at his face “it’s the last night, seeing as we ain’t speaking we can still have sex” he is being bold “mhmm sure” walking around him but he blocked me inside the bathroom “what you want and need is different” he lowered his head to me “the need is different to what you want and you will learn” his eyes not leaving mine as he gripped me by the waist and pulled me in into him  “don’t disrespect me in front of your midget man either” he pushed himself up against me “what you going to do about it?” I retorted “you will see” his lips a breath away from mine, I smiled closing the distance between our lips. Chris leaned in, wasting no time thrusting his tongue into my mouth, sucking down on mine. I moaned into the kiss, he picked me up and swinging me over, he slammed me hard against the wall. I winced and broke the kiss, Chris hiked my dress up and pulled it off me, quicker than I could have, exposing my nipples. Taking one into his mouth, he roughly sucked and pulled on the bud.

Setting me on my feet, he dragged my panties off, leaving me completely naked against the wall. We continued kissing and sucking on each other’s mouths with fierce urgency. As if we were the source for each other’s oxygen supply. He lifted me up and carried me to the bed, tossing me down, I momentarily sat back, quickly trying to catch my breath “I will remain with him just like you are with her” I said breathless propping myself up on my elbows watching Chris remove his belt and drop it to the floor “you talk too much, you all talk. Just trying to poke at me, keep poking. I am going to have you so hooked you ain’t going to be looking at that pretty boy like you do, speak on that” Chris continued to strip down, letting out a sigh of relief when he dropped his pants and pulled down his boxers, letting his erection go free “bet” I said looking down to his manhood. I licked my lips watching Chris’ dick twitch and slightly swing from side to side as he walked around to the other side of the bed “I am pissed off” raising an eyebrow, he is pissed off and he is doing this “turn over” who is he demanding things “no” I said laughing and I laid back down, I yelped out as he flipped me over and I was not ready for that.

I breathed out a little as Chris climbed on to the bed, I have never felt like this having sex with anyone, I am maybe a little nervous now. He is positioning himself behind me, he lifted me up onto my knees, arching my ass up. My hands gripping the sheets already, nothing has happened. Chris leaned forward, his dick grazing my opening and I whimpered, growing anxious. I did assume Chris was going to say something because he did lean forward but he didn’t, he ran his hands around my ass and he griped my cheeks, squeezing it hard. I gasped feeling two fingers inside of me, he started finger fucking me slowly before removing them “mhmm” I heard behind me, without a warning he stroked inside of me, stretching my walls to accommodate him. Pulling out all the way, Chris teased my opening again before ramming into me hard.

Gripping the back of my neck tightly, Chris pushed me face into the mattress, plunging into my heat, long and hard. Each stroke deeper and harder than the last. His balls slapping against my sensitive core, I buried my face into the mattress biting down on the covers, muffling my screams. Still holding on tightly to the back of my neck, using his free hand he slapped my ass. I threw my head back, screaming loudly “ahhh! Yes” I cried out as my walls gripped him tightly. I am dripping wet, my juices running down my legs. Chris grunted, the grip on the sheets were becoming harder and harder, my toes curling. Both his hands are now around my neck and Chris pushed my face down deeper into the sheets. Fucking me with full force “shit!” he spat, the bed rocketing forward, beating against the wall. Chris thrusted into me deep and wild, with each stroke he laid into me, I was experiencing a mixture of pain and pleasure. I bit down on my bottom lip, almost drawing blood to hold in my screams. Letting go of my lip I cried out, my toes were involuntarily curling up and I felt each stroke hit my gut from the inside out. Each thrust after the next sent shock waves through me, I can’t even bring myself to say a word.

Chris slipped out of me, letting go of my neck. I fell flat on my stomach, but Chris turned me over, lying me on my back. Spreading my legs open wide, my stomach flipped as I looked down at him aligning his dick up with my opening. Beads of sweat were dripping down his chest as it rose up and down heavily, my pussy is pulsating, anxiously waiting for him to plunge into me. Finally he slid into the heat, we both let out a loud moan. Chris’ hands are on my legs keeping them spread far apart as he stroked into me, pouring all of his energy into fucking the life out of me. My breast vibrating and bouncing to the beat of his thrust, his face is contorted up in pleasure, but there was also a certain determination mixed in his facial features. I looked into his dark eyes and didn't see Chris. The man plunging in and out of me was almost mechanical, his movements sharp and fast. Every hard thrust deliberately made so that I would feel it all over my body. I arched my hips up, his movements too rapid and my body too drained and exhausted to keep up. To be honest I didn't know how Chris is still going or where he got this sudden burst of energy from.

I clenched my eyes shut, soft whimpers falling from my lips. I was so close “Chris” I cried out, his hips bucked forward, and his movements became wild. Slipping one of his fingers between my legs, he lightly grazed his finger over my centre, and I squealed. He pressed down, slightly pinching her centre between his two fingers. I screamed out his name, my eyes rolled back, my body arched up, enjoying the tingling feeling traveling through me. My orgasm taking over my body. Chris still stroked my pussy, before he came inside of me. His adrenaline run was over, exhaustion suddenly hitting him, and he crashed down on top of me. Not minding that he did I ran my fingers up and down his back until he rolled over, lying next to her. I am so out of breath, Chris and I breathed out ever so breathless. I turned my head to Chris; he is staring at the ceiling, so I carefully scooted over closer to him to cuddle up against his side. My body sore and stiff, laying my head on his chest, I could hear his rapid heartbeat decreasing as his breathing went back to normal.

Chris and I haven’t spoken about that night and thank heaven, this is the last night and we can go back to our daily life, we just got changed in silence, we passed each other in silence. Chris practically got changed and shoved his things in the duffle bag and ran out of the room, I am going to try and pack slowly because I am feeling so sore, I am so fucking sore that I feel uncomfortable, I am not having fun at all. But I am pushing through, I need to get my make up done before my car arrives. I am not even sure if Chris is in the living room, I mean he could have gone by now but that was shut up sex, that had to be because that has really shut me up, I mean besides whimpering in pain as I do things, I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready for that I wish he went back to the love making because my pussy cannot take it, it really can’t. Let me get on with this make up, my mind is just a mess, he really knows how to get me screaming. My throat is so sore, I really was screaming out, I am surprised nobody came to check on me because I was loud, well I won’t be getting him angry again, maybe I will, but it depends.

Pulling my suitcase along, Chris is still here but he is quiet. Not even the TV is on “I thought you left” I said, he shook his head “you want me to drop you off in Virginia? I mean I have the jet, it makes no difference” he shook his head again “I am ok” he is stubborn, of course but I asked “ok, I mean do you want me to at least drop you off to get your greyhound? The least I can do?” I mean I can imagine him saying no but he didn’t “thanks” that is something “I see you wearing the bracelet, erm. We need to talk, without stupid comments. Can we?” I guess we need too “sure” walking around the couch across from him, sitting down slowly I paused before I sat slowly, this soreness is kicking my ass “sorry if I made you sore” rolling my eyes “whatever happened here will remain here, I am not going to tell anyone really. I am sorry if I have hurt you and also if I have upset you, this was supposed to be us spending time together and get to know each other but we have had sex, tears, arguments well a little one, and a disagreement. It’s been an eventful weekend, but I am still happy we have reconnected, like I don’t regret any of it but if I have done something to upset you then I am sorry about that” nodding my head “it’s ok, I don’t hate you for anything, annoyance probably. And I will leave Rakim, and I am doing it for me because I am happier that way, alone” I shouldn’t need a man to make me happy and I think I need to put that first.

Chris and I are so quiet with each other which is a shame, but a lot has happened, and I think there is one think I have realised; I need to think of me. I got too excited to see the man that I genuinely do love and I will not regret it because I do but I will keep that close to my chest, what I have been doing for all those years but I got excited to see him again, and it got the better of me. He is stubborn, I tell you that “I will come out” I said, there is nobody really outside so I can get out “I won’t be long” I said to my driver as I got out of the car, pulling my dress down. I don’t know why I wore a dress, but I did. Walking around the car but he was already there “when is your greyhound coming?” crossing my arms across my chest, more like a barrier between us “uh, like in an hour. I will just wait in the station. Thank you for this weekend, it’s been good to see you” smiling at him lightly “you should come to Virginia, hang with the boys” I think the hell not but you never know “if only life was like that, I miss the mischievous things we did together. Tell TJ and Barry I said hi, I am sure you will tell them, stay safe” moving my arms as Chris opened his arms to me “have a safe flight” wrapping my arms around his torso “I will miss you” he admitted, it made my heart flutter but I am going to keep that to myself “take care” moving back, staring up at Chris he put his head down, turning away from him and our hands got caught as we did, I am not sure if Chris grabbed my hand which made me look behind me and at him, we both smiled.

[speaknowslut13]

Lovely Lauren! ✨ (I’ll do some alliteration too hehe so no I don’t think it’s weird 🤪)

No worries at all, I’m just glad tumblr didn’t eat it 😅 congratulations on cleaning your room, that can sometimes feel like such a monumental task!!

And thank you!! 🥰 I didn’t even have too many bad side effects, other than some slight pain in my arm and being incredibly tired for a few days (but then again I’m always tired so is it fair to blame that on the vaccine lol 🤔)

You’re very welcome! And it is so important for the younger generations, I always try to model inclusivity for my students and I hope that I’m succeeding but at the very least I’m trying.

I think with a lot of arts and humanities subjects, but especially with writing, people tend to underestimate the effort that actually goes into the craft until they actually try it. I also love reading sonnets but I’m not a huge fan of writing them because they are so hard 🥲

to narrow down the categories a bit, do you have a favorite sonnet? What is the poem you would want read at your funeral?

I totally agree, there’s a difference between getting dark and using humor as a coping mechanism for difficult things versus using it to be mean and malicious but writing it off as “haha just a joke!” 🙄

I also despise economics haha would prefer if the made up little numbers did NOT control our lives but alas! If you were to someday own your own business, what kind of business would it be??

I don’t think I’ve asked before, so what kind of work does your husband do? That’s really unfortunate about the state of the records, I’m sorry that’s the situation and hope it all works out for the best should either of you decide to go back!!

Ohhh I also have a hidden objects game that I like to play! It’s called Manor Matters, and I like that one and Gardenscapes because there’s a storyline to them so it feels more engaging than just playing the game part. I mostly like to play on the train or the bus haha.

Totally fair, being in somebody’s wedding can be very stressful. Is your sister older or younger? I have several close friends getting married this summer but I’m not able to attend because of travel restrictions which kind of bums me out. I think lacy dresses are so gorgeous!! I truly hope that you’ll be able to have that someday 🥰

Your chair sounds fabulous, it’s so nice to have a good non bed lounging spot!! I’m thinking of rearranging the furniture in my room because I’m kind of bored with the layout and maybe even getting a few new items of furniture (I’m in desperate need of a bookshelf rn) so I’ll keep you updated on how that goes.

Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers! And I love seeing dandelions first pop up in the spring, such a nice burst of color after winter. Pink is such a fun color, I loved the “dusty pastel” color trend a few years ago and had so many dusty rose clothes hahah.

Ohhh I haven’t watched H2O in forever!! When I was in high school I babysat for this family pretty consistently and the daughter loved it so we watched it a lot together. Might be fun to watch again! What’s your favorite marvel movie? I’ve never really been able to get into it but my students love it so I promised them if we went into another lockdown I would make it my quarantine project to watch the whole franchise lol.

I’m so glad you were able to see your friend!! Are your kids close in age?

I did get my insurance sorted out thankfully and I even got in my chill walk! AND I went to the pool with a friend this week, so that was excellent. If I’m feeling up to it this weekend I’m planning on taking a hike up to a lake to go swimming and read! The weather has finally warmed up here after a month straight of rain 🌞

Sending you hugs! Xoxo 💖 Drew

Drew, my love! I love how your weekend turned out for you! Send some rain to Az for me, eh? Specifically the Phoenix area. A couple of nights ago we had something called a heat burst happen over my house. I didn’t know that was a thing until last night. But basically the temp skyrocketed suddenly at nine pm to triple digits. Plus, since it’s fire season, we’ve got all this lovely smoke trapping in the pollution. We’re under heat advisory too right now, so we have been stuck inside all week. No swimming. And definitely no going out of it can be helped. I live in hell.

The kids are close in age. Her son is about two and half years older than mine. They love each other. It’s pretty cute. We are just happy they get along.

I haven’t watched all the marvel movies, but they’re all pretty good. Honestly, Black Panther is pretty good. Iron man is one of my favorites but I’m kinda hooked on RDJ. He’s around my parents age but damn does he make it look good. The best marvel universe show I’ve seen yet has been Wanda Vision. Spider-Man is also a must see. They nailed the character. And Deadpool is good too.

I need a new bookshelf too. But I don’t have anyplace to put one right now. I think I need a bigger house. Some people would tell me to downsize my books. I would say that’s blasphemy.

It’s my younger sister who’s getting married. But I also have an older sister! We are all pretty close. Which is nice. In fact, I mentioned wanting to move out of country to my little sister the other day and she just about murdered me. 😂

Husband does data and reporting analysis. However, his degree is in Game Art and Design. He wanted to get his masters in something tech related. But he likes to code too. He and I talk about business ideas all the time! I always thought about owning a coffee shop/ book store. And recently I had this crazy good idea about a resin pour business. I do also have a clothing design I put together for school but also wanted to pursue in actuality.

The poem is by Thomas Gray and it’s called Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes. It’s macabre. And sad. And just a little funny. I should be ashamed of myself. I really should.

Honestly the bard does it for me always. Sonnet 116 is always a classic. It’s been my favorite for a long time. But sonnet 130 is a close second. The first is traditionally romantic but there’s something to be said about Shakespeare’s realistic depiction of his love in 130. It’s honest and kinda sweet.

How do you feel about satire? It can be another difficult form to master but when it’s done well I find it incredibly enjoyable. I had the joy of reading A Modest Proposal to my husband once. He was only really familiar with Swift’s Guliver’s Travels. So I introduced him to that. The shock on his face was priceless. But he enjoyed it overall.

As I was pulling out the book I needed to get the proper name and author of the poem, I came across a book I bought awhile back. It’s called the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. That was an excellent book, and if you haven’t already read it, I thought I’d recommend it. I like to recommend that one to people a lot. It was addicting.

I’m glad your side effects were tame! Here are some sunflowers 🌻 🌻 🌻 to brighten up your day!

Out of curiosity, what do you teach???

[honhonluigi]

Didn't get to ask this before, but... Welcome back! How was your trip?

Thanks! My trip...was a fucking rollercoaster. I had no clue it could be so damn freezing in the desert in late April, but now I know. I flew to Utah in the US to visit my sister. We took my parents and her boyfriend and bounced around some national and state parks there. I did Angel’s Landing at Zion, hiked around some Hoodoo formations at Bryce Canyon, saw the Arches, went to places like Dead Horse Point. Hiked a slot canyon in Capitol Reef. Drove through and camped in Monument Valley during a dust storm. Then we rounded it out with a trip to South Rim of the Grand Canyon (North Rim was closed for the winter) where we did a small section of the Rim Trail until my dad hurt his leg and we had to catch a bus back. 

Like I said, the trip was a god damn rollercoaster. There were times when really good things happened, vs. when really bad things happened. 

I loved all the sights that I saw. It was absolutely gorgeous out there. I got a really interesting book about every known death in the Grand Canyon. I saw a ton of different kinds of wildlife and plants and that was super interesting. 

But, for the most part...I hate driving and it was a road trip. I was pretty much stuck in a car upwards of 4 hours every single day and it fucking sucked. I love camping, but I’m not big on road trips. We did more driving than camping, so that bummed me out. Because of all the driving, we didn’t do nearly as much hiking as I wanted. Like...3 hikes overall maybe? I really wanted to push my physical strength to the point of collapse on this trip but instead I just sat in a car the whole time, driving to various overlooks. Angel’s Landing was the best part, because it was incredibly challenging both physically and mentally. (It’s a long free-climb up the ridge of a huge sheer, narrow rock cliff and I’m deathly terrified of heights. Seriously. If you doubt how horrifying this hike is, look it up on youtube or google images.) That was hands-down the best part of the trip, because I love a challenge. And we hiked one long but not challenging trail in Bryce Canyon. But other than that, it was nothing. I really love hiking and physical activity outdoors. I’ve been stuck inside all winter and I was looking forward to letting out my pent-up energy. But I didn’t get to. 

Not to mention, my sister pretty much ignored me and talked to her boyfriend the whole time, so I was really lonely. Plus, as I said, it was freezing fucking cold all the time. I know “desert is hot in the day and cold at night” and shit, but it wasn’t even warm during the day. It got up to 50 degrees. That was it. And at night it was below freezing. Which to people who are bigger than 5′2″ and weigh more than 86-90 lbs max I’m sure that sounds like pleasant hiking weather, but I have the physique of a chicken bone and I was fucking freezing the whole time. So even in the hikes we did, I couldn’t enjoy myself because it was too cold. Especially because the 50 degree high was at 3-5 PM, and we started our hikes at like...7 AM. So it was still cold. Either I was too freezing to have fun, or I was waddling around in three giant coats, which also wasn’t fun. We had to wake up at 4 AM one morning, and then at like 6 AM every day after. I was used to going to bed at 4 AM so that hit me hard, plus I have insomnia, and both my parents snore really loud. Plus like I said, in one place we camped, the area was hit by a dust storm and all I could do was sit in the parked van from 5 PM to bedtime. That was super boring. Also, my stupid mother insisted that we pack only five outfits for 10 days, but then wouldn’t let us do laundry while there. And she insisted that I pack summery clothes, so I had two emergency pairs of warm pants and guess what I had to wear for 10 days straight? Yuck. I was dirty and disgusting literally the entire time and I hated it. I mean, I can hack it. I’ve been in the wilderness before. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy wearing the same sweaty, dusty pants for 5 days in a row. Then my sister decided to split off early from us and do Bright Angel Trail in GC, but told us that we shouldn’t follow her because we would slow her down. (We still weren’t accustomed to the high elevation yet and got out of breath super easy) So we didn’t. Even though I really wanted to hike into the GC and check out Phantom Ranch or Hermit Camp (which is a different trail but point being, I wanted to hike in the Grand Canyon!!) So instead my parents and I did Rim Trail, which is beautiful, but is flat and mostly paved, and that’s incredibly boring terrain for an experienced hiker looking for a challenge. Then we had to cut it off early because my dad hurt his leg. And in two of the places we camped, on freezing nights, my sister said we “didn’t have time” to make a fire. Which is a really nice way to raise morale and relax after a fucking freezing day of hiking. Then I would go to sleep in the back of the van in a tiny sleeping bag every night, and wake up shivering cold several times in the night because of the freezing temperatures. 

So...as you can see. A huge rollercoaster. I was constantly bombarded with beautiful, amazing scenery and unique wildlife. The sights I saw and places I went were monumental. But every circumstance surrounding those sights was horribly unpleasant and disappointing and almost ruined it for me. Plus I got super fucking sick on the plane rides there and back. 

[missbeautyandherbeast]

It’s Nice To Have A Friend

Michelangelo X Reader

Summary: Taking people under your wing was your thing until four mutant brothers took you under theirs. It still didn’t stop you from taking one of them under your wing. Until you screwed that up from miscommunication and some harsh words. Can you fix this? How are you supposed to express emotions when you barely understand the situation? Is it too late to save what you broke? Can you save your friend?

A/N: For the ever-lovely @brightlotusmoon, here’s my drabble into Mikey, making his a round character in my own mind as well as on paper. I hope I did him justice, and you justice. 

Word Count: +3,200

Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, self-loathing, fluff, abuse

Was living underground with four large mutant turtles weird? Sure.

If you wanted to call it that. To me, it was a family, as it was to them, brothers and a father. They had all welcomed me with curiosity and hesitancy as I showed immunity to mutagen, and retro- mutagen—both of which happened in Donnie’s lab after a mishap and me tripping over my own feet.

It freaked me out, to say the least. Again, the questioned seemed to be: what was wrong with me? Again I felt different, out of place, with no answer as to why. I loathed it.

To Donnie I was something to be studied, he tried to hide it and he did pretty well, but I caught the nuances. I wasn’t opposed to it too much, I wanted answers as well. But I wished that I was a bit more than an experiment.

To Leo, I was someone to protect. Whatever was different—wrong—about me he wanted to be kept safe from Shredder and the Kraang. Which I understood, but I also refused to fight, or even learn how. I could defend myself, but I refused to go on the offense, or hurt anyone, even if it was someone trying to hurt me. I knew this frustrated him, but he respected my choice of pacifism.

Raphael and I fought. A lot. Not physically, but verbally. He reminded me too much of my abusive older brother that I had finally gotten away from by moving to New York, and there was something about him that sparked anger in me. I found the confidence to snap back at him when he made offhand rude comments, to anyone. Most of the time Leo stepped in and reprimanded Raph before things could get too far. If the red brute didn’t back down, Splinter intervened.

Then there was Mikey. He was the only one who didn’t treat me differently because of who, what I was. Instead, we played Mario Kart until I got good enough to beat him, sometimes. I showed him my comic books and TV shows, and I watched him fall in love with them as I was. We spent nights reading fan theories, working on cosplay, and jamming to Taylor Swift.

It’s nice to have a friend. 

.................................

And Mikey was the one I stood up for the most against Raph. As soon as I started to notice that Mikey was his favorite target, I got a bit more observant. Signs that I knew, because I had the same reactions around my own brother.

“You actually like that stuff? You’re so weird.” Raph muttered as we started to binge Doctor Who.

“Says the one who spends every minute of every day looking in a mirror, or working out.” I snapped back.

Raph scoffed and walked off as Mikey was silent beside me, looking down. I leaned against him as the show continued. Slowly he relaxed and we ended up, like always, tangled in blankets, passed out, as the show continued to play.

Raph seemed to back down after a while, now that I was always there to fight back against him. There was a solace around the Lair when the comments ceased to exist. Sometimes they were there, like teasing, or light-hearted jokes, but nothing that cut too deep. I made sure of that.

It was nice to be a friend.

....................................

After a few months, I felt safe enough to go back to my apartment every few nights, just to be in my own space, something that I desperately needed to stay sane. It was comforting, being back in my own small studio apartment on Cornelia. I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Play my own music, eat what and when I wanted to, wear what I wanted. I had no one to impress but me.

Mikey came over the first night that I was back in my apartment. He had a pizza and sodas for the two of us as he stood on my fire escape. I laughed to myself and let him in, going to grab paper towels.

We fell into our normal routine, nested in my bed, watching TV—this time it was season 14 of Supernatural—eating and curled up under blankets. Well, I was under blankets, Mikey radiated heat like a space heater. He finished most of the pizza while I nibbled on my one slice.

When the last episode ended, Mikey was shocked when I jumped up and threw the remote towards the TV. His reflexes were quick enough to snatch it before it did any damage, though he seemed to be in the same agitated state that I was in.

I growled. “They can’t just! It’s not fair! They! And he! And Sammy! And Jack! And UGH!” I paced.

“How is that supposed to be the end of the season!” Mikey exclaimed. “They can’t just do that!” “How is there supped to be only one more season to fix that!” I countered.

We both stared at the TV screen, in tense silence, settling down next to each other again.

“I need something to take my mind off of that,” I muttered, scrolling for another movie.

We ended up re-watching Miraculous Ladybug for like the fifteenth time. We both ended up liking the show, a weird mix of my love for cartoons and his love of anime. Nothing like a boy in a leather catsuit and a girl in polka-dotted spandex fighting an old man who loves butterflies and not his son to comfort the mind.

I rearranged my seventy-five pillows and nestled down next to the warm terrapin, allowing myself to get comfortable. Winter was setting into New York and I was about to really miserable with the oncoming cold weather. It was nice with Mikey though. I could always count on his warmth.

Letting the episodes play through, my eyes eventually became too heavy to reopen. My dreams were light and safe. They always were when I wasn’t sleeping alone. It was nice, for once, not to need melatonin, or not be up until four am, or not need my nightly counting routines to lull me to sleep.

It’s nice to have a friend. 

.................................

Once a week Donnie and I worked on figuring out what was so different about me that I was immune. It was a slow-going process because I got tired or disinterested before we could make it too far, and every brother and Splinter was keen on not pushing me farther than I could manage.

“I’m a freak,” I muttered to Donnie one week, looking down at the floor.

“Take it from a huge talking turtle, you’re not a freak.” Donnie mused, a smile playing at his lips.

“Okay, but mutagen affected you: normal. Retro mutagen affects you: normal. Me, absolutely nothing. I’m a freak.” I laid back on the exam table, closing my eyes.

I heard his gentle laugh. I simply sighed.

“No one wants a freak, Don,” I muttered. “No one is gonna want me. I’ll always be weird.” 

“That’s not true. You’re a wonderful person Y/n, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“No one wants a freak,” I repeated, sighing. “No one can love a freak,”

He was quiet for a moment as if he were debating the notion.

“Maybe we’re all doomed then.” He decided.

I chuckled and shook my head, sitting up.

“Do you need me for anything else?” I rubbed my face and stretched.

“You should be alright for today, I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Don.”

I almost ran into Mikey as I left the lab.

“Hey.” My face lit up. “You wanna watch somethin’? There’s a new series that I’ve been meaning to watch, or I could show you Rocky Horror Picture Show, that’s a classic.” I went through my mental checklist of things that I wanted him to watch, trying to settle on the best one.

“No thanks. I gotta patrol. Just came to say bye.” His voice was almost void of emotion. 

“Oh.” My face fell. “Okay, be safe.” I frowned a bit but kept my emotions under wraps.

Watching him leave, I wandered into the main room, trying to solve the look on his face and his tone, feeling like I was missing something.

“That was pretty harsh there Y/n.” Raph leaned against the wall next to the lab.

“What?” I turned my attention to him. “What did I even do? What was all that?” I gestured weakly.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Mikey heard you.” He made air-quotes: “‘No one can love a freak’? Almost sounded like me.”

“I’m still not getting it?” I stood, anxiety clawing my insides. Had I hurt Mikey somehow?

“The kid is head over heels for you Y/n, and you just told him that you’d never love a freak.” Raph laid it out, his tone was cold and distant.

I froze, panic taking over my entire form. I didn’t think, I just did. I grabbed my jacket and slipped on my shoes. I ignored Raph’s questions, I ignored Donnie’s questions. I couldn’t ignore the hands that held me back though. I thought I heard Donnie explain through a muddled mind.

“I have to make this right,” Tears were slipping down my cheeks. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t...” I could feel my breath hiking moving towards hyperventilation. “Mikey...” My voice was broken.

I was broken.

I had broken my friend.

My best friend.

Who loved me?

...he loved me back.

The revelation was mind shattering. Both my mind and heart laid shattered, the pieces oozing into the concrete floor, refusing to be put back together.

“I’ll go find him.” Raph decided.

“No!” I shouted. “He’s going to think you’re lying. That you’re dragging him along. I have to go. I have to make this right.” My voice was squeaky and pathetic, but it was the truth.

“She’s right. Go shadow her, but she has to be the one to do it.” Donnie rubbed my shoulders comfortingly as he spoke to Raph.

I stumbled out into the cold night, cursing the frigid air.

“Mikey!” I shouted hopelessly. “Mikey, please I need to talk to you! Please!” The tears that ran down my face threatened to freeze. I wiped them away in an attempt to keep warm.

I walked quickly down the route that I knew Mikey patrolled, keeping my eyes on the rooftops, muttering his name and wiping tears away until I couldn’t anymore.

I crumbled onto a nearby bench and buried my face in my hands, sobbing for my loss, my stupid mistake, for my Mikey.

“Y/n!”

It wasn’t the voice that I wanted, but my head shot up, in panic.

“We gotta go! Now!” Raph was right beside me in a matter of moments, lifting me into his arms and taking off, in a direction that held no meaning to me.

“Raph!” I complained.

“Mikey was caught by the Kraang. Leo’s trying to get in now, but...” He shook his head as he turned another block.

Fear froze my shattered heart. The words didn’t want to process.

“Hey, hey. Hold it together kid, he’s gonna be okay.” Raph soothed, sensing my despair.

“This is my fault.” I sobbed. “I did this.”

“Hey. No. This is not... good lord kid. This wasn’t you. I swear.” Raph’s voice was hard and commanding. It reminded me of Leo.

When he stopped on a random block, in front of a random building, a warehouse, he made the mistake of letting me go.

I hit the ground running into the building, right into the center of a vast floor, filled with Kraang, and... and Mikey. When his eyes flashed to mine I almost collapsed. He wasn’t dead. I could still tell him I was sorry. I could...

“Let him go,” I whispered, taking careful steps forward. “Please.”

There was a commotion behind me, and I didn’t even have to turn back to know that it was the other brothers, coming to our aid. My eyes didn’t leave Mikey’s. There was so much hurt and betrayal in them. And now I knew why.

I jumped when a blur of silver flashed by me and into the droid closest to Mikey, sending sparks flying, and the Kraang bot dropping to the ground.

“Man, these things are always creepy,” Raph muttered.

Then all hell broke loose. Both sides advanced, and I was caught in the crossfire. Something pulled me down to the floor, and I landed hard on my wrist. I watched as Mikey’s eyes widened in horror, his eyes fixed on something behind me.

I turned and saw a gun pointed at my head, one of the Kraang’s high tech ones.

A swipe of a katana and the Kraang was no more. Leo and I locked eyes; fear in mine and determination in his.

“Go! I’ll cover you!” He shouted, stealing a glance in his youngest brother’s direction.

I leaped to my feet and dashed through the carnage to get to my Mikey. I knelt beside him, trying to figure out his bonds, thanking someone that they were only rope.

“Just leave me.” Mikey bit out. It was like a slap to the face. “I’m nothing but I freak to you anyway.”

The depressing words weighed on my soul and my body until I was held in place by the weight of his words. I had to stop my task of untying him to fight the urge to not scream and cry. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, tears making their way down my face.

“I didn’t...” I choked out. “I was talking about me. I’m the freak. I’m unlovable. I’m unwanted.” I sobbed out. “I’m so unlovable.” I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself, looking him in the eye. “There was never a day that I didn’t love you.”

Recognition crossed his face, as I sat back on my knees, my head bowed and shoulders hunched, as I finally let go of holding my hurt back, sobs shaking my frame softly as they left my lips in unintelligible self-loathing words. My arms desperately tried to hold all of me together, but no matter how tightly I wrapped them around me, I still fell apart.

Until warm familiar arms wrapped around me tightly did I feel whole again. These arms held me together when I couldn’t do it on my own. These arms and these hands picked up the shattered pieces of my heart and took the time to put them back together with care.

“Don’t leave me, please. Please. Please.” I choked out, wrapping my arms around him, my friend, my best friend, my lifeline, my Michelangelo, my Mikey. “I love you, please,”

I could feel his hand stroke my hair gently, as he pulled me into his lap, encasing me with warmth until I wasn’t shaking anymore. I waited and prepared for the worst. He wouldn’t want me. He wouldn’t love me. He couldn’t forgive me for this. I was unforgivable. Unlovable.

I sank into these thoughts until darkness consumed me.

This is what it was like to lose a friend.

..........................................

“Let her mind protect itself. She’ll come around when she can handle it all again.” The voice was muted and muddled, and made little sense.

“It’s been an hour Donnie,” A worried voice, much closer to me, argued back.

I wanted to tell the voice that I was okay. That I was here. He didn’t need to worry. I was fine. Mikey didn’t need to worry.

“Y/n!?” He called, urgent. “Can you hear me? Y/n!?”

“M’fine...” I mumbled, my eyelashes fluttering as I opened my eyes. Intense blue eyes stared back at me; tears mixed in.

“M’fine Mikey.” I curled up further into his arms.

“Don’t let her fall asleep she might have a concussion,” Donnie warned. I wanted to glare at him. I was fine. Peachy.

I still had my friend.

I hoped.

.....................................

I blinked a few times and struggled to sit up. Realizing what I was trying to accomplish, Mikey’s arms supported me, aiding me.

“You okay angelcakes?” His voice was gentle and worried still.

I nodded, ignoring my pounding headache. I looked up at him, afraid. What now? What was he going to say? What was I going to do if he sent me away? If he didn’t love me back?

“Are you really up this time?” He asked, hesitant.

I frowned and blinked a few more times, rubbing my eyes. I noticed that one of my hands was in a brace. I stared at it with curiosity.

“You hurt your wrist. Donnie doesn’t think it’s broken, but he’s not entirely sure.” He was almost sheepish to explain the fact.

I looked up at him, waiting for more. Tensed and prepared for the worst, praying and hoping for the best.

“Did you mean it?” He whispered, cupping my jaw with one of his hands. I leaned into the warmth. “Do you really love me? Freak and all?” His blue eyes were pleading with mine, begging the fact to be true.

“Since the first night that you stayed.” My voice was raspy and broken sounding from dehydration and being rubbed raw from my sobs, but it spoke the truth.

There was a moment of deliberation on his face before he pressed his lips to mine. I wasn’t shocked. I was relieved. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers twisting into the tails of his bandana. He was gentle while kissing me as if he were afraid to break me, and part of me knew that he could. If he wanted to.

But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to break me. Or leave me, or yell at me.

He wanted to kiss me and be near me. He wanted to love me. Like I wanted to love him. Freely, openly, courageously.

Pulling away sooner than I wanted, the turtle pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before his blue eyes enraptured mine.

“You’re not unlovable. And you’ve never been unwanted.” He whispered. “I want you. And God, Y/n, I love you.” There was a small smile on his face, my breaking dawn.

“Freak and all?” I murmured. 

“Freak and all.” He chuckled.

It’s nice to have a love. 

.......................................

Curled up on the couch on a late Friday night after Mikey’s patrol, I laid gentle kisses on his neck, half paying attention to the movie on. He smiled down at me and pulled me closer.

“I don’t see why you like these movies.” He scoffed.

“Reminds me of you, us,” I whispered. “He’s so keen on protecting her, he almost loses her. He’s part of another world that she gets thrown into, and walks in it willingly. She’s different though. She’s immune to their powers.” My eyes flickered to the screen. “‘I tell you I can read minds, and you want to know if there’s something wrong with you?’” I quoted.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a dork.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“But I’m yours.” I grinned cheesily up at him.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s nice to have a friend.

..................................

Don’t be afraid to comment and reblog! I love knowing what you guys have to say and I love your feedback always!

[tired-smol-ray]

Ayyyy for the cute asks! Sorry, it's a lot hehe! Love you!!💖💙💗💙💖💙💕💖 Cutie pie Daisies Dovey Dreams Forever Kisses Rainbow Toot MWUAH💕💗💙💜💜

Thank you! And no no don't worry I don't mind at all, thank you!❤❤❤💓💕💙💕🧡 (pls excuse my long answers... again...)(I am sorry)

Cutie pie: most precious item you own?

Easy one! I have a box under my bed where I collect stuff that I got from friends and cinema tickets and all that stuff from days that i really enjoyed.

Andddd my "every-day-precious-item" are my key chains! I would probably cry and hang myself if I lost them whoopsie- (i was so sad when I lost my Good Omens one, rip)

Daisies: describe a moment when you felt free

Hmm, it can be both: normal school days, but where I felt really comfortable, warm, safe, happy etc. But also great days where I spend a lot of time with people(or also just with one person) that are important to me. For example when we went hiking, I felt super super great💕💕💓❤(thank you a lot mwuah) Another thing is when I am home alone and the weather is nice and I am done with my chores and can just lay on the bed and listen to nice music and not moving and just occasionally smiling.

Dovey: any paranormal/magical experiences?

Ouf, uhm I would have several things i could say here hmm

Uhm okay something like maybe I was once in a quite maniac-depressive episode? And that was this years' winter and I kinda hat two very strange and kinda scary things? Yeah idk

One was when I came back from the toilet at 3am and I was passing the living room rn to get to the bedroom and even though the lights were turned out everywhere I suddenly had a very different image in my head. So, I went into the living room, and it was dark when I did, but the next step it suddenly felt like the lights were turned on and suddenly something from the lamp started cracking and then kinda exploded and I saw fucking yellow and orange light and I immediately kneeled down and held my head to yk protect myself in case I get hurt? But... the next second I opened my eyes everything was just as dark and quiet. And idk then I kinda started crying in the bathroom bc I was scared and yeah(i would have understood it if I were sleepy or smth but I really was not)

And another thing was on the skiing week I was just sitting on the floor(like gays do)and listening and occasionally throwing in some stuff while friends were talking in our room and then I suddenly heard screams and I kinda couldn't hear the others for like 7 seconds and I nearly shat my pants bc fuck someone is screaming, somethings happening! And why is no one reacting?

(But like I think you saw my confused face after that and asked what was up. I said nothing, but well that was it, sorry hun XD)

(I am.sorry if I understood this wrong, but when I hear "paranormal" i think of something scary and the only magical thing taht has ever happened to me is you, so yeah \_(^-^)_/)

Dreams: do you want to have any tattoos?

Yes yes yes yes yes (i like the ones that would be temporary you know? Now you can get tatoos that stay for 6 months, 1 year, 2 years and stuff. I would love to get one of them)

Forever: where do you feel time stop

When we hug ówò or when I see your eyes, they are just so eternally beautiful fifkkfjfj(liek everything about you, but yk that I adore your eyes XD)

And also just generally when I am having a really good laugh with someone. Like just laughing really hard and not getting any air. That happens quite often when I am at Maqeeta's she is just a pure comedian I love her XD our energy matches a lot hehe.

And I have this kind of moments with a lot friends so I really really love that (I still can't get over "Sebastian" during our IT-class if you remember XD)(and a few other conversations :D)

Kisses: what romantic cliché do youwish most for?

I-I.... I really want to have a date(if I ever have one in general, but also just a meet-up with someone) where you uhm:

You know those picnics on a hill? And just watching the sun go down and then watch the stars with a person you really like or a significant other? It would be something that I can imagine going super well and nice and comfortbale and lovely and yeah. Maybe one day, maybe not! Hehe

A-And... something else would be to k-kiss on top of a ferris wheel? I always SWOON when I read a manga or book and that happens hehe so yeah these two are something very cliché but sound so enlightening to me

Rainbow: what was thelastline of the lastbook you read?

OwO I don't remember the exact sentence but my dear Elizabeth was being sarcastical and funny again, I love her XD

Toot: what is something you find unique about yourself?

I am uniquely annoying-

Heh, I am sorry I don't have an answer on this that is positive. But thank you for the ask! Mwuah!

OKAY PLEASE EXCUSE MY RANTS AND THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS MWUAH❤❤❤❤❤❤

Oh and btW I LOVE YOU!!

[eldritchsurveys]

945.

When did you wake up today? >> I woke up at like 4a at first, and then finally fell back asleep sometime after 6a, and woke up for good at a little after 8a. IDK why this happens, but it’s really annoying when it does.

Are you a breakfast person? >> I don’t know what a “breakfast person” is. I do eat a meal in the morning...?

How often do you exercise? What type of exercises? >> I don’t exercise. It’s difficult for me to find something engaging and fun enough for me to stick with it. When the weather cools off a bit I will probably take up morning walks again, but right now I’ve reached my limit with summer conditions and can’t be motivated to willingly drench myself in sweat.

Any favorite TV shows? >> Plenty. Here are three: Person of Interest, The Dragon Prince, Hannibal.

Do you pay attention to the news? >> I read news articles sometimes, when the subject matter is of interest to me or I want to get the full story behind something. Also, I get daily emails from The Flip Side, so that’s a bit of news every morning.

Do you ever donate a dollar to fast food charities? >> Not usually. I also am rarely at fast-food restaurants, so.

What type of books do you like to read? >> I like a wide variety of books -- genre matters less to me than whether the content is written in an engaging manner and whether I care about either the characters or the subject matter presented.

Have you ever enjoyed a reading assignment for school? >> ---

Did you get to decorate your own bedroom? What's it like? >> As a child? No. Now? Yes, because I’m an adult and I pay rent here so I can do whatever I want with my own room. It’s not really decorated in a specific manner, though, like it doesn’t have a ‘theme’.

What size bed do you sleep on? >> Twin, because that’s what fits in my room. Fortunately, I am a relatively small person.

Do you wake up easily to alarms? >> I would if I used them.

Do you stay up unnaturally late at night or do you get to bed early? >> I don’t think I go to bed particularly early or late. Ten PM seems a pretty neutral bedtime.

What are you usually doing if you're up late at night? >> If I’m up late at night, it’s most likely because I couldn’t get to sleep no matter what. It’s definitely not on purpose.

Do you keep anything on like a fan or the TV while you sleep? >> I have the fan on in summer because otherwise the heat would kill me. But I don’t like the noise, I prefer silence when I’m in bed.

Do you procrastinate with deadlines? >> I don’t usually have deadlines.

Do you put a lot of effort into school? >> ---

What food could you absolutely live off of? >> I don’t think I could live off of any food (barring survival situations, of course). I require an array of nutrients just as much as anyone else.

What do you get when you go to the movies? >> An alcoholic beverage, sometimes. Otherwise I don’t usually buy concessions, they’re too expensive. I’ve definitely sneaked many a snack or beverage into a theater and I’ll do it again.

Where do you like to sit at the movie theater? >> Back center.

If you're just lounging around the house, what are you wearing? >> PJ pants or shorts and an undershirt or t-shirt.

Do you like wearing heels? >> An inch or two is fine. I’d prefer not to wear anything higher than that.

Would you prefer a night in or a night out? >> A night in usually suits me, but depending on the kind of night out, I wouldn’t say no to that either. Definitely been getting nostalgic for dinner-and-movie outings lately.

Do you enjoy being alone, or does it make you feel lonely? >> I do enjoy being alone. It’s nice to just veg out in the apartment doing whatever I want, and I don’t feel like I’m being scrutinised every time I move.

Obsessed with any songs at the moment? >> Not any that I can think of.

Do you enjoy showers, or do you take them cause you need to? What about baths? >> Showers are a bit triggering for me for a tangle of reasons, I don’t enjoy them at all. I never take baths, those are a hard limit for me.

Shower robe or towels? >> I just get dressed immediately after drying off and moisturising.

Do you have routines for waking up and going to bed? >> I clean my face and take my Pill before going to bed. I usually read for an hour after waking up, before getting up for bio stuff.

Do you remember your dreams often? >> Not often.

Do the dreams you remember make sense? >> I usually only remember ones that have some kind of connection to waking life. The more esoteric ones are difficult for my brain to hang onto, I think. They come through less frequently.

How is summer going so far? >> I’ve had my fill of summer and now I am looking forward to fall. That’s the thing about summer -- it’s short enough that by the time I’m tired of it, it’s almost over anyway. By the time I’m tired of winter, the worst months haven’t even hit yet.

Do you spend a lot of time tanning? >> I don’t spend any time tanning.

What would you say occupies your time most? >> The Internet, I guess.

Do you keep your room clean, or are you not phased by mess? >> I try to keep my room clean, although the size and how everything is set up makes it look a little more cluttered than it actually is, which drives me batty.

Do you get hassled to keep a clean room? >> Who would hassle me...? I’m grown, I’m responsible for my own damn room for better or worse.

Do you do your own laundry? >> Sparrow does the laundry.

Do you think graffiti is art or vandalism? >> It’s both. Art from the perspective of me, a passerby who likes pretty colours and funky lettering. Vandalism from the perspective of a building owner or law enforcement official.

How do you like your marshmallows roasted? >> Until they’re crispy? Is there any other way, lol...

How do you get rid of hiccups? >> I don’t do anything, mine go away pretty quickly.

How about brain freezes? >> I don’t do anything for that, either, it’s over in a few seconds.

Do you have any healthy addictions? >> That’s... that’s an oxymoron??? What do you think “addiction” means?

Are you old enough to vote yet? >> Yes.

Is voting important to you, or are you uninterested by politics? >> I am uninterested in politics and yet I still participate in the voting system. I didn’t used to, but I’ve come to understand the importance of participating and so I do my best.

Are you alright at world geography? >> I’m pretty abysmal at world geography. I know where some countries and geographical features are, and I can figure out the general area of where other countries or geographical features would be, sometimes... but mostly I just never put much mental energy into that sort of thing and I’m often wrong.

How about navigating your city? >> I can navigate this city pretty well. I’m good with cities.

What part of history interests you most? >> What part of history doesn’t interest me, at least marginally?

Do you keep your cell phone on you all the time? >> Not necessarily on me, but it’s usually somewhere nearby. ... *looks around* ...Well, right now, it’s all the way across the room, but hey.

Do you answer it when it rings or do you screen your own calls? >> I don’t answer my phone at all. Every call I get is spam or a misdial / someone thinking this number belongs to someone else entirely.

Are you big on the texting? >> I don’t text much because there’s no one to text except Sparrow, who I see every day in person anyway.

Do you like chewing gum or eating mints? >> I like the cognitive effects of gum-chewing. But Orbit changed the formula of my favourite gum so I had to give it up.

Do you use dental floss much? >> I don’t floss.

If you're biking do you wear a helmet? >> I hate the way helmets feel on my head but I understand their importance so I just avoid biking at all, basically.

What is your favorite outdoor activity? >> I’m not sure. Hiking, maybe? I do miss hiking.

Do/did you enjoy living with your parents? >> I did not enjoy it.

Do you have any favorite clothes? >> If I still have an article of clothing, one can assume it’s a favourite of mine. Otherwise I’d just... get rid of it. I don’t like keeping things I don’t enjoy.

How about a favorite pair of shoes? >> I only have two pairs of shoes and I like them both for different reasons / purposes.

How many different types of ID do you have? >> Well, I have a state ID, and a Social Security card somewhere (... I should really figure out where that is, I always seem to misplace those), and a birth certificate. I think those are the major forms in this country (I don’t have a passport, which would be another major form).

Do you always remember your license when you're driving? >> ---

Do you pay much attention to speed limits while driving? >> ---

What do you listen to when you're in the car? >> Sparrow’s iPod, usually. But she got a new dongle for the car and it’s Bluetooth, so now I can play my Spotify sometimes too. I have a playlist specifically for the car that’s my Liked Songs with all the metal and hard rock removed (which is, like, three-quarters of my likes, lmao).

What do you spend most of your money on? >> Rent.

Do you take advice when it's given to you? >> I don’t usually receive advice.

Are you optimistic or pessimistic under the shield of "realistic"? >> I feel like that’s not the whole picture. Some people are plainly pessimistic, some people are pessimistic and call themselves “realistic”, and some people are realistic. Whatever. I think my viewpoint depends on what kind of day I’m having, not some innate preference.

Do you avoid arguments or do you go out of your way to express your views? >> I avoid arguments but not to the point where I never express myself. Sometimes my trauma-inspired aversion to perceived conflict can get in my way, but I try not to let it win every time.

Are you looking forward to the future? >> I don’t usually think about the future. I’m busy enough with the present.

[kagebros]

Rain (Optimus Prime x Reader)

Summary: It rains during the middle of the night and you go out to cover Optimus to keep him from getting wet. Instead you get wet and have a conversation with him you’ve wanted to avoid for a while.  Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1895

Tags: N/A

It came unexpectedly. Like all weather did. Thunder rumbled above with a powerful rattle, jolting you awake from your sleep. A quick glance at your nightstand told you it was 2:00am. You frown for a moment before your attention is turned towards the window, rain pattering against the glass. 

It’s a sound you’ve come to welcome with open arms and you had to stop yourself from falling asleep to this new lullaby. Lightning struck in front of your window and you sat up in your bed fully this time, realising who was stuck outside in this torrential downpour. You bound out of your bed, running down the stairs to the garage, pressing the button to where the garage door automatically folded itself up. You ran out with no shoes, grabbing the largest tarp you could find before running up to the red and blue semitruck parked in your driveway. You unfolded it, its large expanse spreading and you did your best to pull the tarp over the semitruck, luckily being able to cover him entirely before he got too wet.

“What are you doing?” a deep voice rumbled from the semitruck, sounding like he was just coming out of recharge, especially since a large plastic cover was being pulled over him like a blanket just earlier. He then shifted out of his altmode, holding the tarp over him as rain hit the plastic. “May I ask… what this is?”

“It’s rain, Optimus,” you said, a soft smile graced your face as you looked up at him. You were drenched to the bone from the rain, water dripping down your hair in front of you but you didn’t exactly care. “Our planet releases moisture from the air built up in the atmosphere, since this planet has so much water it just goes up and comes back down every now and then,” you explained.

“Ah,” Optimus said in understanding. “If you were worried about me getting wet, you do not have to, (y/n), I have dealt with far worse. Water will not harm me.” He then noticed that you were starting to shiver, the cold from the rain starting to get to you. “You, on the other hand, seem to be reacting to the rain in a negative way,” Optimus pointed out. He then switched back to his altmode and opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Get in.” You got in, your soaked form sitting on the driver’s seat for a moment before you felt warmth radiating throughout the interior. Problem was you were still in soaking wet clothes.

“Hey, Optimus…” you started. “Is it alright if I take my clothes off? They’re pretty drenched and staying in them is only going to keep me cold,“ you said.

“If that is how you can warm yourself, then please do so,” Optimus said, a hint of worry in his voice. You slipped your shirt off and opened the door, wringing the shirt out under the little shelter the tarp had provided. You slid your pajama pants off to do the same before being left in your boxers that were luckily dry.

“Well, this isn’t how I wanted you to see me,” you laughed awkwardly. You then lied down on the bed behind the driver’s seat, still a little uncomfortable with the situation you were in.

“Is it inappropriate to show yourself like this?” Optimus asked. He was still learning about human culture and how everything worked after all, having landed on Earth just a year ago to rendezvous with Bumblebee. You’d found him in the forest by accident, taking a hike late into the night felt like a good idea to you at the time but then you caught sight of him. Walking in the forest like a gentle giant. You remembered how his optics glowed with a calming blue light as he looked at you, startled for having been seen and running off like he were a deer. Except he’d been easy to track and fairly slower. You called out for him to stop, your voice soft, feathery as it floated in the air. And to your surprise he did. And he has been your friend ever since.

“Humans would call what my current state is as indecent,” you explained. “We don’t like showing our bodies because  the fact that clothing helps shield us from the elements. Sunburn, the bitter cold of winter, at least in some countries, wind. That, and we’re a bit modest, we only really show our bodies to people who mean a lot to them.”

“Like you are to me now?” Optimus questioned. It was an innocent question and one of pure curiosity, after all he was trying to make sense of human culture. You cleared your throat for a moment and then laughed awkwardly once again, heat rising up to your cheeks, a pink tint obviously on them.

“Uh, no, this is just because the clothes I had weren’t waterproof and I don’t want to stay cold,” you replied hastily.

“Then I do not mean a lot to you,” Optimus said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. You felt bad. The disappointment wasn’t obvious but to your ears his voice was dripping with it. You wanted to tell him that he did mean a lot to you but you felt it’d deter him. Cause him to cut off contact with you, especially since Bumblebee, Optimus’ second in command as he told you earlier, had to leave someone close to him as well so as to make sure she was safe and stayed safe. And you knew Bumblebee loved her. Whoever this Charlie was.

Optimus was your friend, that was it. Yet he came back to you every now and then, sitting in your driveway as he recharged or to simply see if you were home. Sometimes he’d be gone for months and appear without any notice. Such attachments are folly, you’d tell yourself. What kind of freak would fall in love with a metal man? Oh yeah. You. But with Optimus, you felt safe. Safer than any other time you were with a man. Perhaps it was the chemicals in your brain that made you feel this way, influencing you to fall head over heels for this giant metal man.

You may not have known it earlier, when you saw him that day in the moonlight, walking among the forest creatures who were still struggling to get used to him. But something did hit your mind when you first saw him. Ethereal.

You came back from your thoughts, looking at Optimus with a sad smile. The last thing you wanted was to lose him.

“Humans tend to place romance above friendships,” you said. “But I know the bonds we make, no matter what it is, mean whoever that person is on the other end will mean the world to you.” Vague and philosophical. Always the best route for you to go when you couldn’t answer truthfully. Might as well sound wise when you lie. Optimus gave a thoughtful hum before falling silent.

“Then the bond you share with me,” Optimus started. “Does mean that I am something to you.” Shit. Well, nice deduction on his part.

“I...” you can’t think of a bullshit answer this time. “I can’t,” you finally said.

“What do you mean?” Optimus asked, he prodded further, attempting to find an answer he’d see fit. You didn’t answer for a while, trying to find the words to give him an answer he would have liked. Perhaps honesty was the best route to go. Lying again... no, he wouldn’t have liked that.

“I’m... afraid,” you finally said. You could feel Optimus shuffle for a moment before settling. “Afraid of what’ll happen if I... if I’m honest about my feelings towards you. Afraid of getting...” your voice grew quieter. “Close.”

“Why?” Optimus asked. You stared up at the roof of Optimus, feeling wherever his gaze was focused on you.

“I don’t, I don’t want you to leave me like everyone else has. I don’t want you to have to leave me like... Bumblebee had to.” This felt wrong. You were vulnerable to the very being you respected and looked up to. Literally and metaphorically. But what was any type of relationship without communication? You considered him a friend, someone you could trust, yet you closed yourself off at times like these because you were afraid. And you hated yourself for that. You let out a sigh and placed your hands behind your head, resting on the pillow below.

“(y/n),” Optimus’ voice then reverberated. He let out a sigh through the vents as if this were a conversation he knew was coming. “There is a reason why I always come back to you. Even after long periods of time.” He paused for a moment and if you could see his face, you could tell he was looking away in embarrassment. “I have found myself missing your presence. Something I haven’t learned to control after all these years of fighting.” You sat up now, sitting at the edge of the bed. You were afraid of loving him. Not because he’d be killed but because you knew the life he led was dangerous. And he’d do anything to keep you safe, keep you out of it. Even if it meant abandoning you. And you knew that. The conversations you had with him gave you an idea of how dangerous it was going to be if you stayed. That’s why Bumblebee had to leave Charlie. Even if he wanted her to come. Even if it meant putting her life in constant danger so he could have her in his life. You gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white as thoughts raced through your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond so you simply listened to the rain. The rain pattered on the tarp above you, your heart calming down as Optimus only listened for some response, not saying a word. You take a deep breath and suddenly feel exhausted. Oh right. It was 2:00am when it started raining.

“Maybe when it’s safe,” Optimus said in the darkness. “When this war is over, I’ll come back to you. And you won’t be afraid of losing me anymore.” He paused for a moment. “There’s a reason you risked lowering your body temperature to come out here and cover me, (y/n). Especially when it took time out of your recharge.” You don’t answer and sat in the dark for a moment before shifting to lie down on the bed again. Optimus heard your shuffling and the two of you stayed in silence for quite a while. When Optimus had thought you had fallen asleep, you finally spoke, quietly in the darkness, barely above a whisper, blending into the rain as it fell from above.

“I love you.”

The warmth from the vents that came from Optimus went on full blast for a few moments before going back to normal, heat enveloping you during those few moments. You don’t hear a verbal response from Optimus though so you turn on your side and shut your eyes, letting yourself fall asleep. Before you let unconsciousness take over, you heard the four words you’d been wanting to hear for a very long time. It’s quiet, gentle, and genuine.

“I love you, too.“