#reb please go to bed

[biteinsane]

Tumblr I am too tired for this st nonsense, I was generally so confused and just kind of guessed what this was about.

I am rearranging my room and a stubborn bunny refuses to go to bed at a decent hour, I do not care for the love triangle show thank you.

Not having the worst week but not having the best week, things feel into place too easy last week so now its time for it to fall down.

Its fine, I’m fine, I just have...to make so many phone calls and I don’t like being an adult. Some of the calls I can and probably will push off into next week cause I don’t want more disappointment this week. I already have to have one that may turn out to be a disappointment but I have to call to at least get it handled.

Which may end up being more calling. Please don’t.

Anyway, you are not here for me being a grump, you are here for art

AND YOU HAD TO DEAL WITH THE MADNESS OF MY TIRED ADULT BRAIN FOR A FEW INCHES

I haven’t been arting lately, the whole rearranging life choices is messing with that that I need a break

BUT I’ll probably post another post about this

how about some art requests? I guarantee nothing. Only real rule, I have to know what it is, there are some that I’ll do anyway if its an easy find, but like to do what I know and don’t make it complicated. you want that you pay me. You gimme 500 dollars for complicated. 

I just want characters. 

So you reader of this ‘I hate being an adult in 2020s’ now you can send some requests in. Its a secret, shhhhh don’t tell anyone.

thats all I am very tired and wanna art but arting hard, tell me what you want to see in the world and I will decide if I wanna see it too.

DON/T REB/OG

~Mo

[bellaiswriting]

Haven

trigger warning: this story deals with subjects such as ptsd, death, violence, and medical torture. please proceed with caution.

~ R E B ~

Red and orange flames crawled up the walls, spreading over the ceiling like a blanket of hungry moths searching frantically for food. They were quick, devouring everything in sight, and the heat grew to unbearable levels. The smell of burning wood and flesh filled the smokey air. The crackling and splintering of the house crumpling beneath the rage of the fire was almost loud enough to cover the screams of those trapped inside. Almost.

Reb stood in the center of it all, unable to move. She could feel the heat singeing the hair on her arms, and each breath caught in her throat, unable to push through the haze of smoke around her. She could hear her parents calling out for her, shouting her name, but she couldn’t go to them. She tried to move her fingers, but they were stuck at her side, frozen. She tried to scream but was as though her jaw had been wired shut. Her chest ached, as her breathing quickened, and she panted, struggling, as the flames grew higher around her, and the sound of her brother’s wailing carried down the hall . . .

Her jaw finally opened, and she screamed.

“Reb. Reb!”

A soft hand touched her shoulder, and Rebekah Ramirez opened her eyes, inhaling as much fresh air as she could, as her lungs finally expanded and the tightness in her chest loosened. Glancing down at her hand at her side, she attempted to move her fingers. It took a moment, but then she saw them twitching, and relief followed with a whoosh of air.

Phyllis Johnson, Philly to her friends, sat beside her on the bed, and her large worried brown eyes stared down at her from beneath black furrowed brows.

“You were having another nightmare,” she said, voice quiet to avoid waking the others.

Reb slowly pulled her arms up, pushing against the mattress to lift herself into a seated position against the wooden end of the bunk bed. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she sighed. “I know.”

“This is the third one this week.”

“I know, I know.”

“Maybe you should talk to Dr. Locke . . .”

Reb shook her head. She’d already spent too much time talking to Dr. Locke. She knew the man meant well, but he wasn’t used to dealing with her type of trauma. He was a scientist, not a therapist. Reb couldn’t afford a real therapist. Not that she’d know what to say to one. Where would she even start? With her parents and baby brother dying in a fire that destroyed their home? Or the fact that despite her parents both having the Alter gene, she was born completely powerless and yet, because of her parents’ connection to the Hero Council, she was stuck here at the Haven Academy for Heroes in Training. Except, nobody actually expected her to be a hero. An orphan and an outcast. There was way too much to unpack there.

Swinging her legs off the side of the bed, Reb moved to stand, stretching her arms up over her head. A glance at the clock told her it wasn’t yet time for the weekday wake up call, but her neck was sweaty, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep anyway.

“Where are you going?” Philly asked quietly, as Reb slid into a pair of rabbit slippers and pulled her red streaked brown hair up into a messy bun. That was better.

“Kitchen, duh. It’s breakfast-time.”

“It’s five thirty in the morning.”

Reb paused, glancing back at the younger girl. “I like to live dangerously,” she said with a faint smirk.

Philly couldn’t resist that. She grinned and hopped to her feet. “I guess I don’t mind this kind of danger,” she relented.

“Cool, because I could use the company.” Reb reached over to gently tug on the end of Philly’s hair wrap, before turning once more to the door.

She opened it carefully, not wanting to wake any of the other girls in the room. The hallway outside was quiet, the tall windows curtained with only a sliver of fading moonlight peeking in through the cracks to cast long stripes across the red carpeted floor. Reaching behind her, Reb took Philly’s hand and the two of them snuck down the hall, past three other dorm room doors to the stairwell that led down into the dining area and kitchen.

Technically the kitchen was staff-only, but when Reb opened the swinging doors to check the area, she saw a familiar figure already standing at the stove stirring a pot of what smelled like hot chocolate. Philly pulled her hand out of Reb’s to rush forward and throw her arms around the figure from behind.

“Sy!” she exclaimed happily. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Simon Nakamura twisted in her arms just enough to give her a small pat on the head. Reb approached more cautiously, recognizing the paleness of his features and the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

“They let you out of the hospital wing looking like that?” she asked, leaning her hip against one of the long stainless-steel countertops, crossing her arms as she looked over at him with one eyebrow raised.

Sy shrugged, nudging Philly away from him gently to grab one of the three mugs that sat beside the stove. “Not much they could do for me, as per usual.”

Reb nodded, sympathetic. Like her, Sy was an orphan with just as much trauma, if not more. She’d never been able to get the full story of what happened, but she knew it was bad. Bad enough for Sy to willingly refuse to use half his abilities. Reb couldn’t imagine suppressing a part of yourself like that, but she knew better than to pry. The last time she’d tried, he hadn’t spoken to her for a full week.

“Are you better now?” Philly asked hopefully.

Sy hesitated. Reb couldn’t blame him. How did you explain the nastier symptoms of post traumatic stress to a thirteen-year-old with two loving parents who’d never had to worry about a thing in her life? Neither Reb nor Jay had told Philly and Net what exactly had put Sy in the hospital wing in the first place, and, honestly, Reb wanted to keep it that way.

“They let him go, didn’t they?” she said, pushing off the counter to step forward and wrap her arms around Philly’s shoulders, setting her chin on top of her wrapped hair.

Sy held out a mug of hot chocolate to Philly, who took it without asking anymore questions, heading over to the counter to sit. Reb moved closer to Sy, reaching out to lightly brush her fingers against the inside of his wrist. He shied away. Reb sighed.

“We didn’t tell them anything, but they were still worried. I was worried.”

“I know,” Sy said softly, dipping the ladle into the hot chocolate to carefully pour some into another mug. “But I’m fine now.” He looked up to give her a tiny smile. “Promise.”

Reb didn’t believe him, but she knew better than to push. That was the thing about Sy. If he wanted you to know something, he told you. Otherwise, it was anyone’s guess to what he was thinking or feeling. Reb knew it wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with one’s issues, but after spending the first year of their friendship pushing and receiving nothing but the silent treatment and cold shoulder, she’d decided to let it go. Sy gradually warmed up to her and now they hovered at a delicate balance that Reb hoped would one day tip more towards mutual trust.

“How did you know to get three mugs?” she asked, taking the one he handed to her.

Sy gave her a sidelong glance. Reb wrinkled her nose at him. “Right. Got it.”

It was obvious, really. She felt stupid for asking in the first place. As an empath it was easy for Sy to sense the emotions (and therefore the presence) of those near him. He must’ve felt Philly and Reb on their way to the kitchen.

“No Jay or Net?” Reb asked, joining Philly at the counter.

Sy shook his head as he followed with his own mug. “Jay could sleep through an earthquake,” he said.

“Tomorrow is beach day!” Philly said happily, dark eyes gleaming. “I got a really cute bathing suit for it.”

Sy grimaced. “Oh. I forgot about that.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll remember to bring an umbrella for you to hide under,” Reb nudged him lightly with a grin. She took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was the perfect ratio of milk to chocolate. The warmth filled her from the inside out, all the way down to her toes. It was a much nicer sensation than the heat from her nightmare.

“You have to go in the water at least once,” Philly insisted.

Sy made another face, shaking his head and busying himself with his own drink.

“Just have to get through exams today,” Reb reminded them. “Otherwise, no one is going anywhere.”

Both Sy and Philly groaned into their mugs, and Reb fought back a smile.

[cablecorvid]

The Night I Werked For Slenderman

Ah, the early 2010s, they were really much simpler times. I spent my days doing what most emo kids in their late teens did back then- sitting cross legged in my computer chair and scrolling through Tumblr. I would absentmindedly fiddle with the laces on my checkered Van's while I read through my friends' profiles, reblogging pictures of my favorite bands, and creating posts that were oh so relatable and original, ranging from "lol XD I'm so random" to "I'm so dark and edgy, and nobody understands me" depending on how I felt that day.

It was a night just like any other, just another Wednesday evening when I should have been sleeping before school in the morning. Me being me, the angsty 18 year old guy that I was back then, I had deliberately chosen to stay up late. I was keeping with my typical Tumblr routine, just clicking on various hashtags and hoping from topic to topic, my favorite songs streaming from YouTube on a separate tab.

I had always likened myself to the Mad Hatter, but you might as well call me Alice, because that night I fell down the most life-changing rabbit hole I would ever find. This was the night I discovered the realm of the Creepypasta.

It was like a whole new world had opened up to me. I went through so many posts, each one introducing me to or teaching me about the greatest creations of classic Creepypasta- Jeff the Killer, Smile Dog, Ben Drowned, one right after the other. After several hours of scrolling and clicking and almost a whole can of Monster, I was engrossed, disturbed and intrigued. Images of so many terrifying creatures had filled my mind; I had read just about enough on this topic for one night and was planning on finding something new to look at when I told myself I'd scroll down to one last post...

That was when I saw him. The tall man in black. The crown prince of Creepypasta. The one, the only, Slenderman. He seemed so simple, and yet so unnerving. The grainy black and white photo attached to the post sent chills down my spine. I was hooked, I just had to learn more. Before I knew it, another hour had passed. The can that once held my energy drink was empty, and I wasn't going to stop reading until I was thoroughly versed on all things Slender.

I don't remember what was on before, but I took just a moment to change the song playing on YouTube. Everyone has that one guilty pleasure song that makes them want to bust a move, and I found mine right at the top of my "recommended videos" list. Now, an important side note: the 2010s were a wild mix of pop culture advancements. Alongside the rise of the Creepypasta and the Emo genre, a new dance trend had come into the limelight: the twerk. My best friend, Victoria, who ran in the "cool" circles at school, had attempted to teach me, but I hadn't ever been what you would call good at it. I turned the song on, clicking back on the Tumblr tab on my browser, and kept scrolling, dancing in my chair and singing along while I read.

Over the sound of my music, I heard a tapping noise. I thought it must be the wind or something. I ignored it until again, I heard it, a tap tap tap coming from my window, louder this time. I turned around and felt my heart drop, letting out a scream. The pale, faceless figure I had been reading about was standing outside of my house, his long black tentacles snaking out from his body and, every so often, bumping against the glass with another tap. "This can't be real!" I said to myself, stifling another scream. I turned around to turn off my music, but instead of my regular browser the page was a background of static and, to my shock, the still image of a hyperrealistic set of asscheeks, clad in black formal trousers. It looked like they could pop out of my monitor at any time.

I jumped out of my chair and ran across the room. This can't be happening, I told myself. But, in my heart I knew it had to be. I turned around and he was still there, and he was… Shaking. His menacing form blocked the moonlight, casting a long thin shadow that wobbled through my room. We stared at one another for a little while until I caught my breath. A tendril pressed at the edge of my window, trying to open it. I realized that I hadn't locked it after my last time sneaking out of the house, but it was far too late to do anything now- eventually, after, prodding and pushing, the window gave a creak as it opened and the noodly appendage slipped inside. It curled and gestured towards Slenderman, as if it was beckoning me to come forward. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I made the decision to go outside and face him, man to man.

I made my way through the house, through the kitchen to our back entrance, hoping desperately with each step that he would be gone by the time I got out of the house. My hopes were dashed when I threw the door open and stepped out into the chilly night air. I realized then, as I laid eyes on him, what he was doing- it was something that I can’t fully describe even to this day. Slenderman, the internet legend himself, was throwing it back in a way I had never seen before, and may never see again. He turned his head slowly, menacingly, his eyeless gaze landing upon me.

No story I read could have prepared me for this encounter, for that itty bitty waist and the round thing in my face. Slenderman, they called him? I beg to differ. Those thighs, that booty? He was thicc. So very, very thicc. He stared at me, unflinching. I stared back in shock, examining the scene before me. One of tentacle-like tendrils made its way towards me, the same beckoning motion it had in my bedroom. I took a step forward. “Okay, big guy. What do you want?” I said aloud, my own courage surprising me.

Slenderman slowed to a stop, then stood straight up. His height, his stance, it shook me to my core. Then, he slowly took his former position once more, his hands on his knees, and waited, his unseeing glare seemingly peering through my very soul. “What do you want?! I already asked you.” Slenderman tilted his head quizzically. He raised his hand slowly, gesturing to me, then returned it to its place on his knee.

My eyes widened, the realization hitting me. “Do you want….. You want me to…. Join you?” I sputtered. He nodded slowly, and I paused. What was I doing? Was I really about to twerk with a being so powerful he struck fear into the hearts of anyone who saw him and could make me disappear without a trace? I told myself that if this really could be the last night of my life I might as well have fun with it. I placed my hands on my knees as he had and nodded to him. It was then that Slenderman started to twerk once more. I slowly shook my head, he slowly shook his ass. I heard the music from my computer grow louder and he really got into it. I tried my best to keep up but there was no way I could match his technique- he was just so advanced and so fluid in his movements. His hips moved in ways that no human could ever compare to, shaking what his momma or whatever unholy creature that made him gave him.

I can’t tell you how long we werked it for, but I could feel my legs growing tired. I wouldn’t dare stop until he was ready to, though I was afraid he could go on forever. I tried to follow his form, shaking it to the beat of the music, but I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I was almost ready to admit defeat, to collapse after the vigorous dancing that I’d been doing.

My saving grace came in the form of my mother’s voice, and I spun around just as she flicked a switch and flooded the kitchen with light. “What on God’s green Earth are you doing out here, blaring your music at this time of night?!” My mother screamed at me as I put an arm up, shielding my eyes from the sudden illumination.

“It’s not what you think Mom, it’s!-” I turned to look back at Slenderman, but, to my surprise, he had vanished. Not a fleck of dirt on the ground was disturbed where he had once stood- he had completely and utterly vanished.

“I don’t want to hear any lip from you! You get back inside this instant, turn off that racket, and get yourself to bed! Do you hear me?”

“But Mo-”

“No buts!” Mom snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me indoors. As she shut the door behind me, I thought to myself. If only she knew what I had just experienced. Maybe she would have known that “buts” were the whole reason I was out there in the first place. I promptly went to my room, turned off the music, and slept like a rock. When I woke in the morning, I questioned myself. Could it really have been real? Did that actually happen? I knew in my heart that it could be, that it was, and that it did.

It’s been years since that night. I don’t think of it all that often, but anytime I’m in the club or dancing in my room and bussin it down, I get a chill and the memories come flooding back to me. Not out of fear, no no, simply out of my mad respect for the best in the game. If there’s any lesson that I hope you take from this story, dear reader, it’s this: If you should find yourself in the presence of the creature of your nightmares, don’t throw away your dreams. Throw some ass. You may just be alright after all.

Source: The Night I Werked For Slenderman - u/SkeletonicKeys on r/Iconpasta

[astroluvr]

i can't sleep, so how about a short blurb about the first time sleeping over at jack's?

***

"Y/N, are you awake?" Jack asked, turning his head against your cheek as you blinked your eyes open.

You completely underestimated the quality of Jack's couch and the day you had. It was Jack's first weekend in his new house and although you had been over before, he wanted you to come over and have a personal housewarming that consisted of ordering take-out and eating it the minute it came through the door and watching Real Housewives. Jack hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

"Yeah." you cleared your throat and turned in his arms, rubbing your eyes. "W-what time is it?"

"It's about eleven, why?" he answered, kissing the side of your head before you began to sit up tiredly.

"Oh, I should get home." you said to yourself, sitting up against Jack's chest as you looked down at the mess of Chinese and pizza.

Jack was quiet when you stood. He watched as you stumbled around tiredly, low grumbles coming out of your mouth every few seconds. When you had your shoes on and yawned once more, you handed Jack your phone.

"Can you get me an Uber? My card and everything is saved. I have to use the bathroom." you mumbled, your sentences hardly coherent as you trekked down the hall to the bathroom.

Jack stared at your phone and tapped his foot against the floor. The two of you had been dating for three months and neither of you could deny the almost magnetic pull between you. Even though you were close, you were both afraid of making the wrong move at the wrong time on behalf of strong feelings.

When you returned, you saw Jack staring at your lock screen- a picture of the two of you after one of his shows. The two of you started dating towards the end of his tour, so you surprised him at his last show. It was a gorgeous picture taken by Urban that was very telling of how the rest of your relationship would go.

"Are they on the way?" you asked, allowing Jack to pull you into his lap.

"I didn't order it."

"What? Why? I have to get home, Jack."

"You can stay here. I don't feel comfortable with you being in a car alone with a stranger so late, especially when you're about to pass out. I'd drive you myself if I wasn't so tired."

You didn't listen to any of Jack's protective reasoning after he invited you. "That's really sweet, Jack, but I can't stay."

"It's just eight hours. I'll drop you off as soon as you're ready tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my girlfriend who I adore, I'm sure I'm okay opening up my home."

You giggled and Jack smiled at the rasp. "Okay, thank you."

"Course. Are you ready to go upstairs?"

"Yes, please." you murmured.

You and Jack split for a few moments to clean up and make sure nothing would be left running over night before meeting back upstairs.

Jack had showered before you came early in the evening, so he was pretty much already in his pajamas, just taking a few moments to strip out of his shirt and sweatpants. You on the other hand, got showered and got into the thickest pair of sweats you had.

"Which one do you want to wear tonight, baby?"Jack held up two shirts and you shrugged.

"It doesn't matter."

"We both know you're going to keep this shirt and never-"

"The brown one." you interrupted and Jack smirked before throwing the shirt and a pair of boxers your way.

They were ratty tee shirts that had been weathered over the years and Jack trusted you to finish the job. He tried not to watch as you stripped down, but the mirror was hard to avoid. Luckily, he was too tired to even make a crude remark when you bent over to slide on the boxers.

"Which side is yours?" you asked him, allowing him to turn around and examine the expanse of his bed.

"Whichever side you don't want to sleep on."

"This side." you pointed and crawled onto the opposite end.

"You sure? Because whenever you sleep over, and if we ever move in together, that's your side. You can't be all up on mine."

"You can't be all on mine." you rebuttaled with a smirk and Jack sucked his teeth. "Oh, don't even. All you ever want to do is cuddle."

"We'll cuddle in the middle."

"Sounds like a deal." you murmured and Jack got into bed first before holding his hand out. You quirked an eyebrow and he did the same.

"Deal, right?"

Skeptically, you leaned into the bed to grab his hand, but he quickly decieved you. You squealed loudly when he yanked you into bed and into his arms. His laughs sounded like pure honey to you as you squirmed.

"Jack Harlow!" you exclaimed, finally escaping his hold. "You are literally insane. This is the last time I stay here."

"Your place next time, then?" he threw an arm around your side and was able to lay you down with him against the pillows.

He exacted the middle of the bed before pulling you close to his bare chest and you threw your leg around his hip.

"How about we form our opinion on our first night together?"

"My opinion is formed. We'll have to discuss weekend alternations."

You giggled and Jack smiled. "If you keep massaging my back like that, I think we can work something out."

"They do call me masseuse Jack."

"I thought they call you missionary Jack."

"One truth and a lie." he raised his eyebrows suggestively and you rolled your eyes. "It's probably hard for you to figure out though."

"Jack, turn that light off, so we can sleep." you chuckled and Jack laughed a little louder and turned to turn off the lamp on his nightstand. "Good night, baby."

"Good night." he spoke against your throat as you kissed his forehead.

When you tried to untangle your bodies, Jack's grip on the underside of your knee around his hip tightened. "Jack, what?"

"Where are you going?"

"To my side."

"We can sleep on sides next time. This time, I want you to be the first face I see when I wake up tomorrow. Remind me I'm not dreaming."

You were lucky that the darkness of the room cloaked the smile.k. your face. You pursed your lips and ran a hand through his curls.

"Alright, J. I'll see you in the morning."

[direfang]

-

[narukoibito]

“Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Am I Your Lockscreen?

Summary: Harry misplaces his phone.

AO3 | FF.net

Note: This took absolutely forever (months!), but here it finally is. Thanks for the ridiculous prompt Anon. This is complete, unadulterated fluff. It’s ridiculous, and I just can't. Haha, I hope you enjoy!

*

Harry was in the middle of stifling a yawn when he heard the rumbling downstairs.

Must be Fred and George, he thought, stretching his arms over his head. He let them fall back on the cot, with a content, food coma induced sigh. He was thinking about taking a little kip when Ron stirred on the bed beside him.

“Sounds like Ginny’s home early,” Ron grumbled.

“Ginny’s home?” Harry perked up, only to cough self-consciously at the strange look Ron gave him. Right, best mate’s little sister, he reminded himself. Except she was so much more than that. As if on cue, he heard the tinkling of her laughter below.

“Oh, I guess that’s nice,” Harry said casually, leaning back into the cot and pretending to go back to napping.

After a moment, Harry sneaked a peek. Ron had returned to fiddling with his phone. Texting Hermione probably.

Good save, Potter.

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached into his pocket to protectively touch his phone. Only to come back empty-handed.

His eyes popped open.

He straightened and immediately began to pat the blankets around him, his hands searching with a growing franticness.

“Mate?” Ron asked.

“Have you seen my phone?” Harry looked under his pillow and the sheets, on the verge of panic. He always, always kept his phone with him, especially —

“Er, no?” Ron sat up, confused. “Let me call you.”

Harry waited with bated breath as Ron dialed his number. He glared at the rumpled sheets pooled around him, willing them to start ringing.

Finally, there came his tell-tale ring! Only it was…

Shite. Shite, shite, shite!

It had been a moment of weakness. At her last football game, he had snapped a photo right when she’d made the winning shot. Then, like the idiot he was, couldn’t resist saving it as his lockscreen.

“Harry?” He heard Ron’s cry of surprise behind him as he moved, wrenching open the door. He bolted down the stairs, taking two, then three steps at a time, racing toward the ringing.

Just as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, Harry saw Ginny. Even in the midst of his panic, he couldn’t stop the way his stomach swooped at the sight of her standing there in her football training kit, with her long hair tumbling over her shoulders, her freckled skin that glowed, her pale fingers that he longed to hold.

And then, as if in slow motion, he watched as those very fingers reached toward the dining room table.

Fuck.

“Whose phone—?”

“Argh!” Without thinking, Harry launched himself into the air. 

His fingers triumphantly curled over the phone.

Sweet relief coursed through him as an invisible audience cheered him in his head. Safe! He was safe!

Only of course his foot caught on something, and Harry went tumbling headfirst onto the floor. All those years of football training meant he automatically rolled, protecting his head, even as he crashed against the cupboards.

“Harry! Are you okay?”

He blinked away the spots in his eyes to see Ginny looking down at him, her brown eyes bright with concern. She leaned in, her face tantalizingly close.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he croaked, his face flooding with color and not only because he was upside down.

And he was fine, despite the spinning room, because Ginny was here, smiling down at him. The fluttering in his chest mixed with the squeeze of relief that she wasn’t looking down at him in disgust or, worse, pity at having uncovered his secret.

“I see you haven’t lost your flair for dramatics,” she said wryly.

“Constant vigilance,” Harry said, pleased when she laughed at the reference to that ridiculous counselor from that summer camp their parents had enrolled them in as teens. Counselor Moody used to do all sorts of mad things to scare them, like popping out of the bushes. Harry and Ginny used to catch each other’s eyes and laugh about it back when she was nothing more than his best mate’s little sister.

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but wander from her face, only to flush and snap his eyes upward. She certainly wasn’t so little anymore.

“Let’s get you right-side up, and then maybe you can explain why you were pulling a Moody.”

His stomach curled into knots at her proximity as she helped him. He tried to think of something charming to say, which was hard when she was dusting him off and unintentionally sending goosebumps up his arm.

“I was testing your reflexes,” Harry blurted. “I’m still faster than you.”

“Oh, like that really counts when you suddenly shout and fling yourself at me.”

Why was it that the challenging look on Ginny’s face only made his heart skip a beat?

“Element of surprise.” He reached up to adjust his crooked glasses, something tickling in the back of his mind like he was forgetting something. Focusing was difficult with the intoxicating scent of flowers short-circuiting his brain.

“Well, for all your bluster…” With a mischievous glint in her eye, Ginny triumphantly raised his phone screen to his line of sight. “You still lose.”

Harry’s heart dropped to the floor. His eyes darted from the phone to her face and back again. He made a wild swipe for it, but Ginny was prepared.

“Whose call were you so eager to answer, hmm?” she taunted as she ducked into the family room.

“No, Ginny!” He followed her frantically, nearly knocking over a vase. “Come on, don’t—!”

“Not Cho, I hope?” She ran around the couch, strategically placing it between them. Her hand waved the phone tauntingly at him.

“No,” Harry said, slowly drawing nearer, adrenaline drumming in his ears. He frantically looked for an opening. “Cho and I aren’t a thing anymore.”

“Then it’s no problem if I check, is it?” Ginny turned the phone toward her, eyes slowing lowering — with his heart lodged in his throat, Harry lunged.

The two of them tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Harry groaned at the sting from where his head had connected with the floor. Somehow, in the chaos, he had managed to be on the bottom, which was good because Ginny hadn’t felt the brunt of the fall. But as the pain began to recede, he was suddenly very much aware of the soft curves pressing into him, her legs tangled up with his. She moved, wiggling enough to make him yelp.

Oh God, was this it? The only time he would ever get this close?

How pathetic could he get?

“Harry?”

He winced and waited for her to punch him and call him a pervert or something. When it didn’t come, he dared to open a tentative eye. Ginny had lifted herself up, hovering above him, her fiery red hair a curtain around them. Unable to stop himself, he stared up at her, bewitched by her freckles up close, the growing flush on her cheeks that reminded him of a sunset.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Am I your lockscreen?”

Harry swallowed hard, his chest twisting painfully. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Her lips quirked upward. “Planned on keeping it a secret for life?”

“Worth a shot,” he said dryly, even though his pulse was racing. She was smiling — could that possibly mean…?

“Yes, well. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, what are you going to do about it?” Her eyes flashed.

His traitorous hand reached up, lightly brushing her hair back. As his fingers skimmed her cheeks, she released an unsteady breath that whispered against his face. Ginny, his best mate’s little sister, his brilliant friend who could kick his arse, who made him laugh until his cheeks hurt.

“Ginny,” he said, barely able to think over the hammering in his heart, trying to form the words he had been reciting endlessly ever since she and Dean split up. “Will you be my lockscreen?”

Wait. Did he just…?

Mortification surged inside him. Where was a hole to bury himself in when he needed it? He would never be able to show his face around the Weasleys again — how was he going to explain that to Ron? He’d go abroad, Scotland maybe, explore castles or woods, anywhere really, just somewhere far, far away.

A peal of laughter tore him from his runaway thoughts. Ginny gave him such a bright smile, it was hard to look at her straight on. She was leaning closer, her eyes blazing. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Fair is fair,” he said, holding her gaze for what seemed like an impossible time, the tension between them making his chest want to burst, and then suddenly they were kissing.

He had imagined this moment many times in the past few months since his feelings had all but clobbered him over the head when he and Ron bumped into Ginny and Dean snogging under the bleachers. He’d replaced Dean with himself, imagined his hands around her waist, his lips fused with hers.

But this — this was so much better than anything he could have imagined. All conscious thoughts were obliterated by a warm sunshine that effused his every nerve.

“Harry,” Ginny breathed heavily when they finally broke apart. The smile she was giving him made him smile what was surely the soppiest smile in existence. “That was…”

“Lockscreen worthy?” he asked like an idiot.

She chuckled, her body shifting against him, turning that sunshine inside him to molten heat. “Might need to double check.”

“Happy to oblige,” he said, as she leaned down and kissed him again. He ached to be closer, his hand tangling into her soft hair, and she pressed closer as if also driven by the same reckless desire. He was so lost in her, he only barely registered the distant noise that was getting closer.

“Where’d you go, Har— oh my God!” Ron’s cry pierced through Harry’s hazy brain. “Get off my sister!”

Fear spiked through Harry. He looked up at his best mate (who was hopefully still his best mate), who looked as if he had been clubbed on the head.

“He can’t get off me, I’m on him!” Ginny replied unhelpfully.

“Oh then… Get off my best mate!”

Ron grabbed her ankles and started pulling her off of Harry, but Ginny, in a fit of rebelliousness, clung onto Harry harder.

Over their bickering about “bro code” and “we don’t need your permission” and “took you both long enough, but no snogging in the family room,” Harry let his head fall back with a thunk against the floor.

Nevermind – Scotland it was.

[furretsfrolic]

I was wrong this whole freakin' time. 05:00 Nov 10th UTC. It's 06:00 Nov 9th UTC. I'm. Tired.

so...it's 9PM PST tomorrow. awesome.

[rebsrebsrebsrebs]

Hey, Rebs. I take medication that fucks up my appetite something bad and I am often reminded by Screen Buddy Beel that I need to eat. Sometimes I only force something down cuz I feel like it would make him happy. Anyway, can we have headcanons for the boys with a GN!MC who has trouble feeding themselves? :(

Hi anon!!

I wanna say first that I absolutely feel you. I struggle with my depression and a handful of other illnesses daily. Sometimes it's hard to drag myself out of bed to eat, or shower, or anything. A lot of times I'll ask my friends to tell me to eat or I'll remember that Beel would want me to eat well, so I go get something, like anything. I ate six marshmallows for dinner the other day because it's all I could muster the energy for. Eating literally anything is better than eating nothing. You need calories to be the amazing you that you are! Keep doing your best to eat something! I believe in you and so does Beel! 

That said, here's the brothers trying to get MC to eat after noticing that they aren't eating on their own

Lucifer

He won't admit it, but having been less involved with the affairs of humans as both an archangel and a demon lord, he has to do some research to make sure he knows what humans need to be cared for

The goal is to keep them alive for the year, and that means more than just protecting them from lesser demons

Three square meals a day, unlimited access to water, they wouldn't lack for enrichment between school and his brothers' nonsense

(yes he's thinking of them like a pet he has to care for)

He isn't prepared for them not to eat on their own though.

Once he notices that they have difficulty feeding themself, he will remind them of it regularly, just as he reminds them to do their tasks

And makes their attendance at mealtimes mandatory

And makes sure they eat their lunch, or delegates it to one of the more trustworthy brothers

Boy's gonna rule and regulate and remind you into eating enough like the taskmaster he is

Mammon

Humans gotta eat right? Mammon's pretty sure MC has to eat lunch. At least. Right??

He's got an idea

One of the best parts of a photo shoot for Mammon (besides being the center of attention, of course) is the craft services table

The food at these things is good

And that's the excuse he's gonna use to try and ply MC to eat something when he drags them on one of his photo shoots

"This is some of the best Devildom food you're gonna get for free - Devilish doesn't skimp!"

Also it's a combo of giving MC something nice (good food) while also making money (modeling gig) so what's not to love?

If they try to politely decline he will insist anyway

He's their guardian demon and he's gonna take care of 'em dammit!!

Never gonna admit it tho

Do it in the spirit of the exchange program, yeah?

"Ain't it good? Told ya so!" as if that's why he's smiling

If his tactic works, he'll drag MC around to even more shoots and events.

He can't watch over them all the time much as he tries to so he makes sure that at least when they're together, MC eats something.

Leviathan

Game time is snack time, obviously. It's an important part of the ritual

(side note, I bet he has specific snacks he plays for specific games, but that's another post)

Levi presents his Henry with gamer snacks for two and a large pizza for them to share

He's honestly a little hurt when much 'sharing' doesn't get done

Does MC not like what he got? He could've sworn they ate something last time. Maybe.

Didn't they?

Oh no what if he got something they said they don't like and he forgot. Oh fuck he feels like such a bad friend.

But they aren't saying anything and that makes him feel worse

"If - if you don't like what I got you can just say it!!! I can take it!!"

MC explains that they just don't feel like eating, but he doesn't accept that so easily

"You have to! Henry and the Lord of Shadows shared every meal possible together on their long journey across the Almederian Wastes!" 

"Levi, I'm just not hungry. It isn't that deep."

"....it's that deep to me :<"

Please eat a slice of pizza so he knows you're still friends, MC

Satan

He's the one who's actually going to ask MC why they don't eat as often as he thinks humans ought.

He probably thinks that demon food is just too gross for them, which… might not be incorrect.

When they explain it to him, he will take their reasons and start searching for logical solutions.

Their medication takes away their appetite, is there something else they could try that would achieve the same medicinal effect but not affect appetite?

Or if they can't find the motivation or the will, who or what could motivate them? Do they need meals brought to them? 

Rather than forcing them to eat when they don't want to, he's going to try and find ways to make it so that they do want to eat and then let the eating part take care of itself

MC can expect books at their bedroom door and links in their inbox as Satan shares his research with them

Overall the most practical choice if MC wants a solution to their lack of appetite, if one is to be found

Asmodeus

Makes some assumptions when he sees that MC isn't really eating during lunch

"Darling, I understand that humans have odd beauty standards, but you have to know that restriction diets like that are so bad for you."

Eating enough is key to maintaining health and happiness!! 

In addition to having many rants about how having enough sleep is necessary, he also basically has pre-readied talks about self-confidence, hydration, eating enough, bathing/showering, and getting enough time outside

And he wants MC to be as healthy and happy as possible, whatever that means for them

Asmo is locked and loaded with an arsenal of compliments about MC's looks and figure and everything he loves about them, when they explain that that isn't actually the problem

It takes him a second to parse that their lack of appetite isn't because they had just eaten, that they literally just don't feel hungry, so they forget to eat

"Well… you need to eat anyway! Here!"

You cannot convince me that Asmo doesn't have a little mini-fridge for his wines and cupcakes that he likes the most to keep Beel away from them

He will present MC with a cupcake and a glass of wine while they hang out

"Yes, you have to have both, they pair so well and it would be a crime if you didn't. I would cry! You wouldn't want to make someone as pretty as me cry, would you?"

Beelzebub

Aww :( 

Sharing food time with people he loves is Beel's ultimate joy, so if he brings MC something and they don't want to chow down, it kinda hurts.

He will sulk and be confused

Also, he hasn't lacked an appetite in the longest time, so he can't relate - not until he does that body switch with Asmo, but even then, he's so hungry that he likely can't remember it

MC will probably explain it themself when they see Beel so upset.

"It isn't you - I really appreciate that you think of me enough to bring me something you like. I just don't always have an appetite."

Beel will ask a lot of questions

Are they sick? Are they hurt? Is he bringing them stuff they don't like? Is Devildom food too much for humans? 

He will increase the amount of snacks he has on his person, just in case MC ever does develop an appetite, that it could be quickly sated.

Will offer them tastes of what he's eating, since a meal is technically just a lot of little bites, right? 

And a lot of little bites of the amount of food Beel eats is a plentiful meal by human standards

Also, will pick MC up and take them to mealtime if necessary, he already does this to Belphie, so he'll just have one of them over each shoulder and plop them in their seats at the dinner table

Belphegor

His strategy is to keep MC hanging around him and Beel so that Beel's plan can go into effect

Probably has also struggled with eating enough, especially in his earlier demon days when he straight up couldn't pull himself out of bed

So whatever is causing MC's struggle with eating, he relates

Beel can and will bring MC and Belphie to food, as well as bringing food to MC and Belphie

Being friends or lovers with the twins is just a guarantee that MC will never purposefully go hungry

I'm sorry Belphie's is so short it really is just 'hey beel we have a food thing, help plz'

masterlist

[jungleindierock]

Jungle Indie Rock - Indie Christmas Playlist 2020

Ok the 2020 Jungle Indie Rock - Indie Christmas Playlist is a bit different to the previous years, cut from 100 tracks down to 70. All the songs are new and from 2020. Hopefully you will all enjoy it and share it, Reb

Tracklist

BANNERS - Fairytale Of New York

Bastille - Merry Xmas Everybody

Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott - Christmas (And Dad Wants Her Back)

Anti-Flag - The War On Christmas Is Over (If You Buy It)

Sam Fender - Winter Song

Porridge Radio - The Last Time I Saw You (O Christmas)

The Offspring - Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

The Goo Goo Dolls - You Ain't Getting Nothin'

Circa Waves - Miss Christmas

Jesca Hoop - White Winter Hymnal

Baby Queen - Santa Baby

Shame - Snow Day

Francis Lung - To Make Angels In The Snow

My Kid Brother - White Christmas

U.S. Girls - Santa Stay Home

Twenty One Pilots - Christmas Saves The Year

Charm Club - When It Comes Around

Tori Amos - Christmastide

The Cribs - Christmas (All Year Long)

Malena Cadiz - Blue Christmas

Field Music - Home For Christmas

Julia Jacklin - Baby Jesus Is Nobody's Baby Now

Birdy - Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

New Found Glory - Decenber's Here

FINNEAS - Another Year

Work Drugs - All Alone On Christmas

Haley - Like Ice And Cold

Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard - Christmas Is Coming (We All Know The Score)

Kathryn Williams & Carol Ann Duffy - Snow Angel

Warm Digits - Good Enough For You This Christmas

The Raveonettes - Snowstorm

The National Parks - Peace On Earth

Stats - Christmas Without You

Polly Scattergood - Snowburben

Madeleine Peyroux - Ha Ha Holiday

Scouting For Girls - Xmas In The 80's

Calexico - Hear The Bells

Karl Blau - Snow In Falling In Manhattan

Bear's Den - Christmas, Hopefully

Nova Miller - Only When It Snows

Patty Gurdy & Fiddler’s Green - The Yule Fiddler (Christmas Time Is Coming)

Kandle - Christmas Mourn

The Lutras - Give It Up For Christmas

The Cornshed Sisters - Have A Good Christmas Time

Crocodiles - Christmas In Hell

Girl In Red - Two Queens In A King Sized Bed

The Petersens - Christmas Time's A-Comin'

Rock Eupora - We Need A Merry Christmas

Flight Paths - Broken Ornaments

Julia Stone - Santa Claus In Coming To Town

PINS - Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To fight Tonight)

Belle Haven - Moving On

Lauren Hibberd - Rockin'Around The Christmas Tree

Sleep Party People - Our Falling Snow

Dream Nails - Lonely Star (Christmas Song)

Bradley Palermo - Satan Won The War On Christmas

The Aislers Set - Cold Christmas

Sharon Van Etten - Silent Night

Grouplove - A Grouplove Christmas

Wyldest - Another Christmas

Grant-Lee Phillips - An Old Fashioned Christmas

The Parlotones -I've Been A Good Boy Santa

Lande Hekt - December

Christian Lee Hutson - The Christmas Song

Blackaby - Last Year's Christmas Tree

Good Charlotte - Last December

Tegan And Sara - Make You Mine This Season (Happiest Season)

Blossoms -It's Going To Be A Cold Winter

The Go! Team - Look Outside (A New Year's Coming)

Sløtface - New Year, New Me

[rebsrams]

Crumble (Ethan x F!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Rebecca Valentine)

Warnings: NSFW/18+, swear words

Summary: She has a date. It’s not with Ethan. Yet somehow she happens to show up at his doorstep, that same night.)

Word count: 2,468 (sorry!)

Author’s notes: My first time ever writing smut. Don’t really know what came out, actually. Like a lot of smut but with that touch of fluffiness in the end. Also, I’m not a native speaker so please report any mistake, I’m here to learn!

Song: Crumble by Jeremiah Daly

The air in his apartment was thick with resentment, disappointment and a bit of disbelief.

Just knowing her out with some other moron made the blood boil in his veins so hard that he could feel the heat radiate under his skin.

He could clearly see her, her legs crossed, portions of her firm thigh showing up further and further as she laughed at the asshole’s jokes, causing the hem of her skirt to slightly roll up.

He saw the asshole’s filthy hand casually resting on her thigh, on her shoulder or caressing her cheek.

Trying to think about anything else, his fists clenched involuntarily.

His mind, however, reluctantly perched on the color of her eyes, her hair in the sunlight, her plump, freckled lips all over him. Him, and only him. Anyone else was just a waste of time, for both of them.

The very thought of it stirred his soul to its very foundations, making him think and feel things that he should definitely not think and feel about an intern.

A sudden urge began to show up, which he promptly had to cast out with a cold shower and a glassful of his newly opened scotch whisky.

Half an hour later he found himself once again laid on his sofa, face facing the white ceiling and counting hours until his next shift, when a timid bang on the door awakened him from his unpleasant reverie.

Then he found her, dangerously glaring in her garish green dress, which was perfectly matching her ivory complexion while divinely exposing her décolleté and emphasizing the morbid curve of her hipbone.

He couldn’t help but taking her in, staring at her and gulping not so lightly at the sight.

“Rookie.”

“Hi.”

She gave him an uncertain smile, as if she was badly regretting the decision that brought her in front of him, whatever the hell that was.

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, I... G’night, Ethan. See you at work.”

She literally blurted out the words, her face becoming one with her ginger hair.

He could clearly see that awareness was dawning on her, the awareness of not having a single logical reason to be there, on a Saturday night, while a random guy, in all likelihood questionably dressed, was probably waiting for her somewhere else.

Feeling bold enough, Ethan decided to let go of the rules of logic for once in his life and took her wrist before she could step away aiming for the elevator.

“Rebecca, what happened?” he needed a moment to be able to pronounce the next sentence.

“Did he hurt you?” he let out, his voice almost a whisper.

She shook her head, lowering her gaze, and he immediately let out a sigh of relief.

First of all she was fine, and second (if he had to be completely frank with himself), he was a little too out of practice to smack a random douchebag’s nose without any inch of hesitation.

His eyes turned concerned, impatient and, if he had to say, a bit curious to learn the real reason she found herself at his doorstep in such a particular occasion.

He didn’t need to ask further questions  because she explained the situation in such earnestness that made her look absolutely endearing to his eyes, making him forget entirely that he was mentally cursing her for the sweet lines of her body and her bitchy attitude just a handful of minutes before.

“I left. I just couldn’t and, I don’t know, I felt like you needed to know this. I really don’t know what came over me, actually. That’s all. I think I need to go to bed right now.”

He couldn’t help himself from taking those words as a clearly invitation, moving a step forward and firmly grabbing her waist with both hands, his face just a breath away from hers.

“Yours…” he breathed “or mine?”

The spark was ignited.

In a split second their lips came crushing over one another, entangling themselves in a complete mess of ragged breaths and exploring tongues.

They kissed eagerly, urgently, and stopped only to regain some air and not suffocate in their almost strangling passion.

She clumsily shoved her hands under his already loosened shirt, teasing and scanning every inch of his skin, occasionally digging her red nails into his flesh.

The low and growled moans that escaped his mouth at the contact shook her at her very core, waves of warmth spreading across her body.

Soon enough, the door slammed behind them and she found herself pinned to the closest wall, medicine books, novels and fishing magazines tumbling down the bookcase.

His hands easily found their way to the zip of her sparkling dress, now laying on the shiny cedar parquet.

His fingers dug as deep as they could in the flesh of her ass cheeks as he lift her up, clinging to her as if his whole existence depended on it.

She kept her arms wrapped around his neck, tracing with the way from his collarbone up to his earlobe with heated kisses, biting the latter and making him moan loudly.

She then proceed to suck the tender spot just under it, soothing it with her tongue immediately after.

An allegory of what their relationship was.

Hurting each other but being the only one capable of soothing each other’s pain.

“Rebecca,” he groaned “what is it that you do to me?”

She got on her feet and grabbed boldly the protruding bulge now visible through the tight fabric of his pants, which he felt rather uncomfortable.

“You tell me, Dr. Ramsey.”

Letting himself escape a moan, he hastily got back to his mouth’s ministrations on hers, while his hand slipped between her thighs, caressing the tender spots agonizingly slow.

“Ethan…” she begged, thrusting her hips in response.

He once again swooped her off her feet, kissing her thoroughly while walking to reach his wide double bed.

They tumbled on it quite unceremoniously, hands in each other’s hair, trying to come even closer than they already were.

Her hands made their way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them all and letting the item of clothing fall off his shoulders and on the floor.

His hands swiftly reached for her underwear instead, sliding  the black silky garment down her milky thighs, lightly tickling her already sensitive skin.

And instant and powerful surge of hassle shook him at the thought of her wearing that kind of panties while going out with some kind of haphazard jerk, but then he realized he was the one laying in bed next to her. The bed of his apartment, where she practically ran to when the evening hadn’t even taken off.

“Rebecca,” Ethan breathed between open mouthed kisses “spread your legs for me. I want to watch you.”

She gulped at that words, doing as told but never breaking eye contact with him, blue in blue.

“God Almighty,” he moaned in satisfaction, taking in the view in front of him “you’re so wet for me already. So amazingly wet, Becca”

With that words his fingers ran up her inner thigh, unable to contain themselves, and began to part her folds in light but firm, little circles, while he was losing himself in the sound of her moans muffled again his shoulder and the feeling of her sex wrapping around him, while he entered her with the first finger in a single, swift movement.

“Ethan…”

He could feel that she was trying her best not to scream his name out loud, keeping her eyes shut and her head tilted back as a sign of surrender.

“Becca, honey, I want to hear you” Ethan said, sliding another finger inside of her and making her back arch and her voice increase significantly.

“Look at me” he whispered on her lips, while the pleasure was unsteadily building inside of her at the slight curling of his fingers.

She opened her blue green orbits and looked at him through heavy lids, gasping loudly when his thumb find the way to her clit, circling and nudging it gently.

He then began to worship every inch of her upper body with his mouth, spreading wet kisses all over the line of her neck, her collarbone and down to her breasts and nipples, biting carefully through the thin lacy fabric of her bra.

Getting rid of the latter rather skillfully with just one hand, maybe making her wonder how many times did he do such a thing recently, his torso finally met hers without any barriers and almost melted with it, the feeling ethereal.

He progressively increased the pace of his hand on her, loud moans escaping from both mouths. His fingers seemed like dancing inside her cavity, knowing every single step of the way to her disarming climax.

Just then, the roughness of his stub brushed against the smoothness of her  inner thighs in the sweetest of contrasts and his supple tongue reached inside of her, his fingers still aiming for the spot that was slowly driving her to completion in sure, frantic movements.

“Come for me, Rebs. I need you to do this for me.”

Soon enough, everything that kept her aware of some kind of existence of the outside world shattered around her, the fierceness of her orgasm claiming her senses completely.

He looked up at her, ocean eyes sparkling with gratification, watching her chest rise and lower while she was trying to normalize her breath with her eyes kept almost stoically on the ceiling.

Usually, in moments like this she liked to keep her hands tangled in his hair, always complaining about him cutting them every month.

Ethan’s gaze immediately turned concerned at the wide gap between the two situations.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to hide that little sting of fear in his voice for what he was going to ask next.

“Do you regret this? I’m sure that prick is already having fun spending his night elsewhere, if this is what’s troubling you.”

It took an unfair amount of effort from Ethan to sound as much disinterested as possible, but the truth was he was so interested that he could even let himself go and cry at her affirmative answer, such was the emotional impact that certain moment was having on him.

“Of course not, Ethan.”

Once again, he had to put down the urge to breathe a sigh of relief at her words, though he couldn’t help but wonder what was really troubling that amazingly cumbersome mind of hers.

He didn’t have to speak, because the quizzical look in his eyes drew out all the explanation he needed from her.

“You know I don’t. How could I? It’s just that every time you hold me, every time you keep me in check like this I… I feel like I’m going to crumble in your hands, sooner or later, and that I will not be able to put all the pieces back. I feel like I’m running at full speed to self-destruction because every damn time that we hook up or make love or simply dart our eyes at each other through the corridors, you could regret everything and shut me out again after all the struggle I’ve been through to finally deal with it once. So no, I don’t regret a thing and I never will. But maybe you do and the thought of it makes my heart clench every time.”

By the end of her speech, her eyes were reddened and glistening with tears that threatened to fall at any time, while he just gaped for a second before gathering the nerve to speak.

“I’m not going to regret this, Rebecca.”

He finally managed to say, and he meant it so profoundly that his voice almost broke.

“Then show me”

She couldn’t finish the sentence that his lips were once again all over her, his teeth occasionally scraping sensitive portions of skin.

She kissed his neck eagerly, wanting more, more than she had that night and more than she ever had with him.

She wanted his soul, completely, without restraints or the fear that he could suddenly get cold feet and walk away. She wanted him whole.

“Ethan,” she breathed out, limbs aching to stay the closest she could to him, “I want you.”

She straddled him in a neat movement, pressing herself against the bulge still inside his pants while trying to get him out of them by clumsily loosen his belt.

He then lift her up impatiently, placing her on the bed as gently as he could given the urgency of the situation, and freed himself from the torture that his trousers and underwear were since the moment she showed up at his apartment in that damn golden dress, hugging her like a second skin.

A few moments later he was already placing himself at her entrance, thick and hard with the most ardent desire he had ever felt in his whole life, and scanning her face for some kind of sign to go on.

She nodded firmly and he entered her slowly, inch by inch, savoring the bliss that the feeling was bringing to the both of them.

After a few, slow thrusts, he began to increase his pace more and more, letting himself escape a nearly infinite number of low groans while she was repeatedly calling his name, as if to have some kind of guarantee that he was not going to vanish in her arms.

She began to feel once again her muscles clench around him and the tidal wave of pleasure reaching for her, drawing out cursing words from Ethan’s mouth.

“Fuck, Rebecca, I’m close,” he somewhat managed to say, panting heavily and occasionally moaning her name through her coconut scented hair.

Suddenly he lifted both of her legs over his shoulders for a different angle, thrusting deeper than ever and reaching the spot that made her finally crush down, crying out in pure delight.

He followed immediately after, hips rocking frantically while gripping at her hipbones, probably hard enough to bruise her.

They remained intertwined for what felt like a fragment of infinite, finally collapsing into each other’s arms with their eyes half shut from the exhaustion.

She kissed her forehead while he watched her drift into sleep, finally letting go of the brake that had her clutched to the conviction that he could ever regret something like this.

Things weren’t easy and they still couldn’t come out of the closet, not yet at least.

But there she was, safely wrapped in his arms and snoring lightly, making her the most endearing little thing he had ever seen.

The world around them could have crumbled down, but she would have always been intact as long as she was with him.

 -------------------------------------

Told you the end was quite cheesy, I guess it’s kind of my trade mark ✨

[kookscrescent]

The Wake Up Call┊pjm

⇢ paιrιng┊idol!jimin x f reader ⇢ ѕυммary┊you fail to wake up your boyfriend the old fashioned way, therefore you turn to the one thing you know he won't be able to resist.  ⇢ genre┊ smut, established relationship, boyfriend!au ⇢ warnιngѕ┊pwp, sexual intercourse, oral (m receiving), riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cursing, dirty talk, crude words  ⇢ word coυnт┊1.7k words┊unedited ⇢ dιѕclaιмer┊This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡ 

⇥ Masterlist

NB! This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

“Jimin, wake up,” you gently shake your sleeping boyfriend, but to no avail, “Babe, you need to leave in an hour,” again you shake him and this time he protests a groan. He rolls to his side and buries his face amongst the pillows.

You sigh. He was the one that asked you to wake him up at 6:45 am in the first place! And now he doesn’t want to?! He has to – his schedule starts at 8:20 am, but the man still needs to shower, get ready, have some sort of quick breakfast and leave at least by 8:05 to make it in time.

You give it another go, “Jimin!”

Still nothing, but you notice his eyelashes flutter slightly. Is he ignoring you on purpose?

You need something to get him out of bed! Something he won’t be able to say no to. Hmm, something that will wake him up and he won’t be able to resist? A sudden idea pops into your head.

You smirk devilishly to yourself as you gently push his shoulder, making him turn to his back. Kicking the duvet to the end of the bed, you crawl between his lightly spread legs.

He’s never been able to resist this, you think and run the palms of your hands gently up his bare thighs and grasp the waistband of his black boxers. He is already sporting semi hard morning wood, so you won’t have to do much to get him worked up in the first place.

He still doesn’t move. Not even when you drag his boxers down his legs as far as you can get them. You stop at his knees. That will have to do.

His cock lays against is stomach, proud and ready – the thick, veiny shaft making your fingers itch to reach out and touch it.

You weren’t really in the mood before, but you sure are now!

Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you give him a few leisurely strokes to test the waters. He does nothing on the first few, but as your hand tightens around him and gains speed, he stirs. He hums, a rumble so loud coming from his chest that you are surprised he didn’t wake himself up.

You thumb his slit, stroking it back and forth and enjoying the way his stomach muscles twitch.

Surely, he is going to wake up any second now. But just for good measure, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue replacing your thumbs previous action.

No more than a few seconds later, does Jimin open his eyes in shock and pleasure. You look up at him from beneath your lashes while trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Shit!” he grumbles falling back on the bed.

With his eyes closed, he runs his hands through his morning hair. He breaths deeply, still confused and trying to piece together what is going on. Well, he knows what is going on, but why is the question. Not that he in any way is complaining! Is there any better way to wake up than with your gorgeous as fuck girlfriend sucking your cock? NO!

Working your mouth lower on him, you cup his balls with your free hand – massaging and gently rolling them, adding to his pleasure. You work up a rhythm, pushing and pulling him in and out of your mouth, careful of your teeth.

Each time you pull up, your tongue swirls and licks around his swollen head. You are drawing deep groans and grunts from him, and you can feel how wet you are between you clenched thighs. You were only supposed to use this as a tactic to get him to wake up, but suddenly all thoughts of that are out the window!

“F-Fuck!” Jimin stammers, his head thrown back. One of his hands tangles in your hair, “Keep going baby,” he encourages.

Gradually, he starts rocking his hips, pulling himself deeper. You let him do as he pleases for a few moments, until you can’t take it no more. You need something too!

Jimin protests when he falls from your mouth, hard and pre cum leaking from his tip, but the protest quickly dies down when you crawl over him and discard you top along the way, leaving you naked except for your soaked thong.

With a swift movement you pull the flimsy fabric to the side and guide him inside of you.

“Oooohhhh,” you sink down on him inch by delicious inch.

“Yes baby! You’re fucking soaked!” Under hooded eyes, his gaze catch yours, “You get this wet from just sucking my cock?”

“Yes!” You gasp and roll your hips effortlessly over his.

Your head drops back, your hands placed firmly on his bare chest as you begin bouncing on him, setting a deadly pace. You are so close to coming. You can feel it.

Jimin scoots further up the bed, barely even interrupting you rhythm. With a firm grip, he grabs both of your ass cheeks. He applies pressure, rocking you over him faster and harder. Shit! You are co fucking close!

“Jimin I’m so close!” Everything inside of you is shaking. Your legs, your hands, your arms. Every fiber within you feels alive, building towards a climax so strong.

“Yeah? You gonna make yourself cum on my cock?” He growls. “You’re so goddamn tight! Your pussy was made for me! So perfect!”

At this point you have already given up, your body slumped forward on Jimin’s chest. He takes over without question. His hips smacking against the back of your thighs, completely undulating you.

Your mind has gone blank, the only sound coming from you is your desperate gasps of air as your body tries to keep up with the man under you.

This is not how you saw this panning out. You were only supposed to tease him a little so he would wake up, but somehow you have become the desperate and needy one here.

“Oh my fuck!” you bite down on his shoulder when the pressure inside of you boils up and almost snaps.

Jimin curses and almost cums right then and there from the feeling of your teeth sinking into his shoulder. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

You can do nothing but nod, your voice has at some point decided to leave the building.

“Would you like that, huh?” He asks, his eyes burning, “you want me to cum inside of your soaked pussy?”

Vigorously you nod. God, you want nothing more at this point.

Pounding into you, he hits you so perfectly that you cum around him immediately.

“Jimin!” You cry loudly into his shoulder. Your hands are clawing at his chest as you hold on for dear life, letting the immense fire of your orgasm curse through you.

He is relentless. Not letting up and driving you to the point of almost passing out.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming!” he barely breaths the words before you feel him spilling inside of you – coating you walls and leaving behind a trace of himself.

You are both panting like wild animals as you come down, catching your breaths.

Turning your head, you rest your forehead against his. You pull his lips to yours, pecking them sweetly three times before you pull back to look at him.

“Good morning,” you smile lazily.

He chuckles lightly, making you move on his chest. “A very good morning indeed.”

“But at expanse do I deserve to be woke up this way?” he then asks you.

“You told me to wake you up, but you wouldn’t wa – oh shit!” You screech, your eyes fixated on the clock on the bedside table. 7:47! Shit! He’s going to be late! You get off him in an instant, his cock slipping from your heat. Jimin shines in disappointment.

“Jimin, you’re going to be late!”

“What? No, I’m not,” he replies and casts a look on the clock as well. His pupils dilate upon seeing the digits, “Shit! I’m going to be late!”

Rushing out of bed, as naked and glorious as he is, he almost falls flat on his ass getting tangled in the sheets. You try to hold back the laughter that is threatening to escape, but you fail. You laugh as he curses, quickly retreating a new pair of boxers from the dresser.

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?!”

Oh hell no! “I tried!” you protest, dragging your top over your head and down your body, “but you wouldn’t wake up.”

He speed walks to the closet, “So you thought it would be a good time to have sex?”

“I was only meant to tease you a little, but… I couldn’t help myself,” you pout.

He walks back out with fully dressed in a pair of black jeans and a t shirt. His hair is a mess but he doesn’t really have time to do anything about it. Thank god he doesn’t have any public appearances on his schedule today.

He stops in front of you, cupping both of your cheeks and plants a kiss on your still pouting lips, “God I love that you couldn’t help yourself,” another kiss, “and god I love you.” He plants another and kiss and you smile into the kiss.

“I love you too and I’m sorry I made you late.”

He lightly shakes his head and let’s go of your cheeks. You want to protest, but you let it go. “To hell with that. I can be late today. I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him and hug yourself to his body, “I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“I really didn’t,” he brings your lips back to his for another kiss and you relax against him. Hmm, you could spend all day attached to his lips.

Even though you don’t want to, you pull back, “You really should get going.”

“Shit! Right, fuck…” combing his hand through his hair, you both pull apart and you watch as he gathers all his things and head for the front door. You follow behind him.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” your lips become attached again, but only for a few seconds. “Don’t wait up for me, okay.”

You frown, “Why not?”

“I wanna repay the favor,” he says with a wink, the door closing behind him.

I realized that I hadn't written something smutty interlay dedicated to Jimin, so I got the idea for this and here we are ;) I hope you enjoyed reading - and remember reblog and comments truly does inspire and motivate creators to keep going! Thank You!

[ajokeformur-ray]

Baby, you’re fucking gorgeous// Joker x Reader//

Okay, so this one wasn’t requested but I have to get it out of my system. Every time I look at Joker, I blush like crazy and I just know that smug bastard would enjoy the attention. And so, this little imagine was born. Hopefully it’s as good as the Arthur Fleck ones I’ve written, because I haven’t written for Joker before. Let me know what you think!

Summary: You’re still unused to Joker… his mannerisms, his physical appearance, and you. Can’t. Stop. STARING. He notices, of course he does, but he subtly teases you until finally, oh, finally, you just can’t take it anymore. Are you in for a long night? Oh, most definitely.

TW; swearing, smoking (Joker), err… soft smut, teasing Joker. Mentions of Arthur’s malnutrition in real terms; if it upsets you or may potentially trigger you, then please skip the asterisked (*) paragraph. The asterisks are placed immediately before and after the paragraph. No critical plot info. is in that paragraph! I will signal its finish with another asterisk at the end. 

word count: 1,560

Arthur Fleck/Joker:  @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life​ @dopey-girl-blogs​

 Wanna be added to the taglist? Let me know in a DM or ask, please - comments can be hard to track

Oh, help you. 

Arthur Fleck, your beloved significant other, had only just recently, in the last few days, completed his gradual but inevitable transition into Joker. You had come home one night expecting to see a bare faced, very weary and tired Arthur greet you at the door, but instead you had opened the door and before you had even shut it behind you, hands had grabbed your face and pulled you into a huge messy kiss; traces of greasepaint all over your face. 

You had stepped back to see an exuberant Arthur. “Hey, Arthur!” 

 Arthur had smiled softly at you, his eyes so kind and gentle, but he had shaken his head patiently. He had known that you wouldn’t know who he was, and that it would take time before you could tell his personas apart. “When I’m like this, call me Joker, darling.” Then he had burst into laughter, the sound loud and bouncing off the walls; it was freer and more genuine than you had ever heard him before. You had accepted this new persona without question, only wanting him to be happy, and that was that. Some days you didn’t know who would greet you at the door. It didn’t matter, though, so long as you saw your enigmatic love at each day’s end. 

Despite your bravado in front of Joker, you still weren’t acclimatised to him. You had seen glimpses of him over the months, flashes of his confidence had shone through Arthur and you had found yourself malfunctioning, blushing too badly to be able to look Arthur in the eye. It had excited you, though a deeper and easier to hide part of you had worried for the future of Arthur Fleck… would you still be a part of it? Would he still love you as this new person came into light? 

As such, you had a problem. Only days before had you met Joker, and now with you sat on the sofa watching Joker dancing without music, his own eerie but liberating rhythm playing on a seeming loop in his complex and twisted mind, you were mesmerised. You were caught like a fly in a web. You hadn’t been able to look away from him all day. Arthur was devastatingly beautiful but Joker… oh, Joker was ethereal. You loved him. To love Arthur was to love Joker, he was the same man, and you had been conflicted about loving Joker initially but, like all other potentially bad decisions in your life, you had chucked yourself down the rabbit hole head first. You could only hope that Joker would catch you, just as Arthur had.

As Joker turned with stilted movements, he spotted you staring. He raised an eyebrow, winked at you and then carried on dancing like nothing had happened. You quickly grabbed the nearest cushion, burying your face in it to muffle the strange noise that left your throat, but also the blush that spread like wild fire across your face. He was fucking gorgeous.

You squeezed the pillow just a bit harder on your face, biting your lip to further muffle the second squeak that left you. Arthur had been able to make you blush with just a straight face but Joker… Joker knew what he did to you without even trying, and it seemed as though he had already figured out that this new persona, his truest and freest self, was your greatest weakness.

You inhaled the scent of cigarettes and your love as you released the cushion and stood, intent on going to the kitchen to get some food for yourself and Joker. Even now, he took very poor care of himself, but he lavished you with everything. It was frustrating, but you supposed that you could take care of the two of you. Joker already worked so hard to support you as a small family, so the least you could do was to do your share.

*

You turned to the barely stocked fridge, thinking of what kind of meal you could make with what was in there. You had the ingredients for a basic pasta bake, so that was what you set your mind to. Arthur couldn’t eat much of anything at all, his body so used to starvation and malnourished from such a young age that even slightly rich foods could make him sick; his body unable to digest it, and you had quickly had to adapt to his body’s needs.

*

You turned to the oven, your mind still fixated on the haunting images of Joker dancing to music that was in his very soul, and began to make dinner. A soft, low humming had replaced the silence in the apartment, and you found your body reaction to Joker’s music. Your hips wanted to sway, your head wanted to tilt up towards the ceiling so you could listen better, and as you set the pan down for the pasta bake, large hands seized your shoulders; spinning you around into a dance.

You were too preoccupied with the way that Joker’s eyes stared into your own to notice what he was doing with your body; turning it this way and that, spinning you, and dancing with you like Fred and Ginger. 

“Like what you see?”

You blushed as Joker winked, and he laughed. There was a tinge of hysteria to his laughter, but you didn’t mind. Laughter was better than sorrow, and you had long since learned the different emotions behind every laugh that Arthur had.

Two could play at the confidence game… Arthur and now Joker were able to read your body language with a single glance in your direction, so intuitive was he. If he could tease you, knowing exactly what he was doing but being less suppressible than Arthur so he could enjoy what he did to you, then you could use a little bravado of your own. You made yourself, with the low stirrings of lust mixing with love and affection in your gut, look Joker full in the face. You allowed the blush to rise, resisted the urge to cover your face with your hands, and let Joker see.

 You even squeaked again, much to your mortification and Joker’s amusement. You cleared your throat, drew some more strength from that familiar touch you swore you could feel even in your dreams, and said, “Baby, you’re fucking gorgeous!” 

“Have you started dinner yet, kitten?“ 

You shook your head. "No. Just about to st -" 

"Save it. I know what I’m hungry for and it’s not pasta.” Joker gave you that look and you made a mental note to clear tomorrow’s schedule. You’d be walking and sitting funny for the rest of the week, if memory served you well. Last time he had looked at you in that way, with such blatant want and fire in his eyes, you had had sex multiple times in one night… every time you had started to drift off, he had woken you up with a demanding kiss and praises whispered in your ear.

“Hey, uh, J-joker?” You stuttered over his name, your eyes still on his, and he winked at you, his smirk widening. The cocky bastard was not helping you at all and he fucking knew it. 

“Yes, dearest?”

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

Joker’s smirk widened to almost ear to ear (though his makeup made that illusion even stronger) and one arm slipped around your waist, pulling you tightly into him. His other arm gracefully came up and over his head, his fingers dangling loosely in the air. and he slowly lowered you into a dip. Where had this strength came from? Hovering above you, Joker’s eyes softened and he almost looked like Arthur again. It was a close enough resemblance that it made you want to cry. Where was your sweet man? Where had he gone? Did he still love you? You would never stop loving Arthur, no matter who he turned into, but you couldn’t confidently say the same about Joker. 

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him badly. Joker must have read it on your face, for his eyes flickered down to your lips and his smirk faded as he just stared at you. 

“Joker?” He was starting to make you nervous, and you got up to move, to leave, but his fingers dug almost painfully into your hips and his lips descended upon yours messily. His kiss was greedy, his tongue pushing its way past your lips. He kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get to kiss you, and it was with a surprising show of strength that he murmured, “Jump”, against your lips, and lifted you so that your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. 

Without breaking the kiss, Joker somehow managed to carry you seamlessly through the flat, unfaltering in his step despite how your body obscured his vision. It was with great faith in his muscle memory that he navigated the two of you to the bedroom. He roughly shoved you off him and you landed on the bed. Your body didn’t cease bouncing before he was on you like a lion pouncing on his prey, and his lips seized yours again, his face paint smearing all over yours.

You were in for a long night.

[medieshanachie]

Come Home To Me Is My contribution To The Home Front Anthology Releasing November 5th, 2020 ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Homefront Anthology :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ A new anthology presented by R&R Publishing Company featuring authors Reb Kreyling, C.M. Lehsten, E.S. McMillan and K. Ries Sign-up for the Cover Reveal and/or Release: https://forms.gle/7sc9Su32QoTQfhv78 Cover Reveal: October 9, 2020 Release Date: November 5, 2020 Pre-order Now » https://amzn.to/362NyZR Add to your TBR » https://bit.ly/3hYcWm7 Blurb: They wake to an empty side of the bed. They wait for that five-minute phone call. They break down and cry because they miss them. They force a smile because their pride and love is stronger than anything else. It would be easy to walk away, but they choose to get up and stand strong next to their heroes. Families make sacrifices together. All proceeds from this anthology will go to the EOD Warrior Foundation.

Homefront Anthology

"Homefront Anthology" presented by R&R Publishing Co. featuring authors Reb Kreyling, C.M. Lehsten, E.S. McMillan, K. Ries, and CM Seidel will release exclusively on Amazon on November 5, 2020. Please sign-up below to receive media kits for the cover reveal and release day. If you are a blogger, you...

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   Picture credits to @kitkat0723. Handholding credit to her, too!

[there-will-be-a-way]

When we had that first interview with that therapist, she asked us what our everyday life looks like to which the part who was present replied, crying, (because of course we were crying throughout that whole appointment) "I just wait for the day to pass and then I go to sleep and wake up the next day only for it all to start again."

I still think that's sad. Anyway, the therapist suggested we should get a behavioral therapist to help us with this kind of stuff (daily routine). What she didn't know, and of course she didn't know, was that this is not at all what our everyday life looks like. She was talking to a very depressed part who's very dissociated from our present life. We do have a good daily routine. We are excellent at that kind of stuff. We get up at the same time every day and go to bed around the same time every day. We have regular meals. We leave the house every day. We work out. We keep ourselves busy with activities that are meaningful to us. When the part who had this conversation with this therapist is around, we may really sit and do nothing for a couple of hours, but this is not our normal.

Anyway, ever since that conversation happened some parts are very obsessed with making us stick to this routine very strictly. Very strictly. Due to past experiences with behavioral therapists, "I think you should do behavioral therapy" sounded like a threat to them. They fear "it" (psychiatric abuse) will happen again if we don't "behave" and "do what she says".

Reassuring words and gentle promises frighten these parts, but I want to acknowledge their pain, at least.

I am getting overwhelmed by fear right now. I will take care of this fear now (wasn't finished writing this post but okay), but I still want to leave this here.

[not seeking advice and please don't reb/l0/g.]

[bpdhoney]

that bpd feel when ur fp gets ur hopes up that u can see them today and then immediately is like "nvm i don't wanna put the effort in even tho it would be comically easy to come see u" and u've already been having a shitty time and that sweet #rejection always helps with that hahahaha awesome 👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼

[cl-babydew]

28.) “I thought you loved me?” Louie and Della(family bonding)

OOOOHHHHHH BOYYYYYYY HAHAHAHA!!! Everyone’s hearts may shatter today! X,D This was requested by Donald_DellaStories! But before we start, let me just explain this a bit: If this angst/fluff oneshot had a title, it would be called “One Step At A Time”. Other things to know about this fic is that there’s going to be tons of comebacks and references to “Knitting” my old first fic! And this is placed before “My Little Green Bean” but it would be even more emotional if you already read “My Little Green Bean” before this fic! Oh boy this hurt to write! At least there’s fluff to finish it off! So let’s get right into the feels! I hope you all have tissues ready...

____________________

What if Della were to barge in when she overheard her son in green confess his worries with the others while they were having a meeting. A meeting behind her back. A meeting about her...a family meeting without her...

What if she were to just up and leave them within that moment, coming back when she truly was ready to face motherhood.

“What if...”

Della laid in bed that night, staring emotionless at the ceiling high above her. The blanket that she randomly found while snooping around in her brother’s houseboat -he wouldn’t mind if she borrowed it- draped over half her body, her webbed feet peeking out.

She sighed to herself. Her and her boys were fine, right? She was doing ok as a mother, even if it was her second day, right?...She fought off an evil eating block head -after she was the cause of it- and saved Reb- Louie. She was still getting used to their names. “Darn Donald, I should’ve known he wouldn’t approve of the cool names I came up with. Who names their children ‘Huebert, Dewford, and Llewelyn?’ What in the universe even is a Llewelyn?!”

After a moment of scolding her absent brother, negative voices began to catch back up to her, ringing through her head as she groaned.

“-I’ve gone so long without a mom, I guess I don’t really know how to have one.”

“That’s because she’s not a mom!”

“I think Della is struggling to adjust to this new life.”

“After all, I’m used to cleaning after children, dear.”

She pulled the pillow from under her, and slammed it against her face, letting out a frustrated sigh.

The thoughts wouldn’t just leave her alone. They both agreed it’ll take a while to grow as a family...why did she still feel so...so...

She rubbed at her eyes, words couldn’t describe how she was feeling, she just was...feeling!

“I’m such a terrible mother.” She mumbled under her breath, her arm covering her eyes.

“M-mom?”

Della’s ears perked up, lifting her arm slightly as she peered over the side of her creaky bed.

“Re- I mean, Louie?” She puffed out her cheeks, “Louie wears the green!” Shaking her head, she forced a smile on her beak, “Is everything ok, green bean?” She patted herself on the back, saving that nickname on a list to remember.

Stumbling back a bit, the duckling’s heart stopped right in it’s tracks, tears pricking the sides of his eyes threatening to escape, “How...” he trailed off, taking in a shaky breath as he attempted to steady his trembling hands. He tried to fight the tears from streaming down his pale face.

Della’s eyes widened, cursing to herself as she stumbled over to her green hooded son on the floor, “Louie, sweetie? Is- are you ok? Did I do something wrong? Do you not like the nickname, cause I can change it if you-“

“No!” Louie spat out, shaking his hands, wincing at his mom’s taken back expression, “No...” his voice quavered as he softened his words, “I...eh...it’s ok.” He stiffened, glancing at the ground.

She wiped at his eyes, looking up at the visibly shaking duckling, “Are...” she hesitated, “..are you sure? You’re crying and-“

“I’m sure.” He assured her, then breathed in as he continued, “It’s just...Uncle Donald calls me that- well..he used to call me ‘my little green bean’...I just haven’t heard him say it in so long...” he blinked a few stray tears away from his eyes.

At a lost for words, Della bit her beak, sucking in air, “Oh...well I bet you’re still his little green bean.” Her smile might of been weak, but it was genuine.

Before Louie could respond, he noticed the blanket he knitted for his Uncle, was now on the floor from Della’s reaction.

She blinked a few times before following his questioning gaze, peering over her shoulder.

“Is...is that the blanket I made for Uncle Donald?” He kept his eyes on the blanket, his voice hushed.

Della, not really understanding, reached behind her, grabbing the blanket, “Uh...this?” She it held up to him, admiring the work that was obviously put into it.

Louie grasped the half he had in his hands, while his mom held the other. He smiled softly down at it. He was proud of this one thing he actually accomplished by himself.

His eyes flickered to his mother, studying her admiring eyes as she looked over his work. The boy’s stomach begun to swarm with butterflies, remembering that she was a knitter herself.

“So...you made this?” She broke the silence, causing Louie to advert his eyes back on the blanket as hers fell on him.

He shrugged, nodding, “Yea...Uncle Donald’s done so much...he deserved something.” Green eyes meeting her blue ones, his beak twitched up a bit into a tiny smile.

She smiled back, raising the blanket up to fully admire it. She gasped as she spotted her name knitted out onto the blanket.

“Uncle Donald missed you a lot...he’d tell us stories about you when you were both kids. But he’d never say what happened to you. All of it was a mystery. All he’d say was that you just...disappeared. He was hopeful that you’d come back...one day.” He glanced up at her watery eyes, then continued, “The nights he’d think we were asleep...I’d sneak outside the houseboat, watching him stare up at the sky...it was like he was waiting for you...”

She lowered the blanket, her voice cracking into a sobbed as she fell to her knees, pulling Louie in a hug. He slowly hugged back.

After a while she pulled back, rubbing her sons tears away, “I’m so sorry...” she burst out, wiping at her own tears, as one of her hands stayed plastered to his cheek. The blanket crumbled down between them.

Louie watched as his mom broke down in front of him. Him and his brother never really seen their Uncle break down because he would always hide it, trying not to worry them. But that didn’t tend to help when the walls weren’t thick...

He grabbed onto her wrist that was connected to the hand on his cheek, whispering, “Mom...”

“I’m such a terrible mother! I’ve been gone for 10 years! I can’t believe I thought you all would love me from the start- heh...like it would be that easy.” She insulted herself repeatedly, swallowing the poison of her words.

“Who said we don’t love you?!” Louie shouted out, squeezing her wrist slightly, his misty eyes scanning her teary filled ones.

She sniffed, “W-what?”

“Who said we don’t love you, mom?” He repeated

Her heart ached as he called her ‘mom’.

“Just because we aren’t use to having a mom...doesn’t mean we don’t want one, and that we don’t love you.” Louie stood up to make sure he was being heard, pointing down at his listener. “We promised to take this one step at a time, and that’s what we’re doing.”

Della opened her beak to retaliate, but was quickly interrupted.

“You may not be the perfect mom- hey! The perfect mom doesn’t even exist!” He paused, making sure his point was getting across. “You might not know how to be one yet, but no matter what. No matter how many times you mess up. How many times you set the kitchen on fire. Let monsters loose. We will still and always will love you. One duck alone is a storm, but all of us together, united...we’re a hurricane. And you’re apart of this family. Apart of this hurricane. So...please don’t go anywhere again?” Louie came to a calming stop, looking at his mother’s shocked expression.

Fidgeting in place, Louie leaned on his right webbed foot, “I love you, mom. We all love you. To the moon and back.”

After that, Della pulled her son down into another tearful hug. They stayed there within each other’s arms, crying every pain out, every worry washing away.

Pulling back once more, she chuckled down at her son, “I don’t mean to ruin this beautiful and emotional moment but, what did you come in my room for, again?”

He blinked, before snapping his fingers, “Since Uncle Donald usually lets me sleep with him when I have a...nightmare...” he mumbled. “And since he’s not here I wanted to ask you if I could-“

She gasped, holding her hands to her bill, “Of course you can sleep with your mommy!” She smirked.

Louie chuckled awkwardly, “Alright, dial it back a bit mom.”

She smiled down at him, kissing her son’s forehead, “No promises, Beanie.”

He groaned as she ruffled his hair, trying to squirm away, “Moooommm...” he complained, trying not to smile.

Rubbing the sides of his head, she ushered him off, “Now it’s off to bed with ya, my little duckling!” She chirped, hiding a squeal.

He began to slump on over to her bed as she called after him, which he turned at

attention to, “One step at a time, Louie?”

He smiled at her, “One step at a time, mom.”

___________________

Sooo...yep! I hope you all enjoyed this...and I’m sorry for the feels if it got to any of you. I’m also sorry if Louie seems too ooc, I always have problems when writing him and Lena, they are pretty tough to write for me. So I’ll just...see myself out...yeaaaaa...