julisebeautytherapy

[bidilfs]

Slowly working through art party stuff; not sure how many more I'll do, since my art process is slow and sporadic above all else. But here's another charr! Decima belongs to @drakeheart 👍

[parkert01]

Protective - Aaron Hotchner

You and Aaron had been secretly dating for months. You had already met Jack and Jess, they really liked you and thought you were the perfect person for Aaron. You spent a lot of time with them both and you loved them both dearly, almost as much as you loved Aaron. You and Aaron agreed to keep the relationship a secret for now becuase of the dangers of your jobs. You both knew that if people knew you were together, it would put you both in danger.

The team was currently in Florida helping the local PD catch a serial killer, you were polite and courteous to all the officers, except one seemed to think that meant you were intrested in him. He always flirted with you, let his hands linger on you for longer than approprotae, squeezing in your shoulders as he walked past you. You meantioned this to Aaron and he promised to keep an eye on him. 

Currently you were all sat around in a conference room talking about the case, you chair extremely close to Aaron's, you knees were touching and his hand was on your thigh. The officer slowly kept moving his chair closer to you and kept staring at you, this made you very uncomfortable. You whispered this to Hotch and he switched seats with you to put a barrier in between you and the officer. 

You were gathering your documents and didnt notice the officer standing behind you, until he cleared his throat to get your attention. You turned around and politely smiled. You could see Aaron in the doorway watching you carefully to make sure you were safe. You tried to walk around to officer but he stopped you "not too fast" he said while chuckling. "How about me and you go out sometime". You replied saying "No, I have a partner". You walked past him and to Aaron. Aaron guided you out of the room. 

At this point Aaron was just getting annoyed at the officer, despite you telling him you werent intrested, he carried on trying to persue you. Aaron wasnt jealous, he trusted you and knew you would never hurt him, he was just annoyed that he wouldn't leave you alone. 

You were leant over speaking to Spencer, when you felt someone smack your butt. You knew it wasn't Aaron because he wouldnt do that in public. You quickly spun around and smacked the officer, that caused everyone to look in your directon. Aaron came storming over, you could see the anger in his eyes. He grabbed the officer by his collar and slammed him against the wall. "Leave her alone! I want you off this case. I will be speaking to your commander" Aaron screams at the guy. He then drags him out of the room and the building. When he got back he rushed over to you and pulled you in to a hug, while you sobbed in to his chest. 

He let you cry in to his chest, not caring if his shirt will be ruined. He his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, whilst yours were wrapped around his waist. When you pulled away and looked up at him, he smiled softly at you. 

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything or do anything sooner" he whispered in to your hair.

"It's okay. It's not your fault" you said. 

You looked at him and he leant down softly kissing you. When you both pulled away, you glanced around the room and saw all your team smiling.  Aaron kissed you again and said "I'll be back. I'll speak to his boss" and walked away in the director of the chief's office.

The team rushed up to you asking lots of questions about your relationship. You answered them with a big smile on your face. You were happy and in love with the man you wanted to be with forever. 

[riaki]

thrifted romance | megumi fushiguro x reader

synopsis: you’ve never really spoken with megumi before, so when your friends leave the two of you behind on a snowy night, you take the opportunity to get to know him.

wc: 6.2k... SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY cw: swearing, college au, noncurse au, i don’t thjnk there’s anything else ??

this got way longer than i intended it to be and i rushed to grind it out so it may not be coherent.. if so i apologize :’3 and this one’s late but i hope the content makes up for it ! enjoy meemow barely proofread!

it's a late winter evening when you meet up with megumi and your friends on the side of the street— cozied up in puffy layers and a long blazer stained with coffee splashes and a few hot chocolate smudges here and there.

fall had melted away with the slow gradient of leaves from the trees, sinking into fluffy piles on the sidewalk that soon became coated and replaced with light snowfall; the first of many problematic inches. midterms were just around the corner, and with it meant late hours spent pulling all-nighters that left you exhausted, eyes dark around the edges with a lack of sleep; breaths of minty hot chocolate and coffee from the amalgamation you'd concocted to at least pretend to get into the holiday spirit.

(a fruitless effort, though— if not for your failure that warned you to stay out of mixology, but the way your roommate's cat had knocked over your mug and ruined the flashcards you'd been wrestling with and looked completely smug with itself.)

really, though, there was absolutely nothing jolly about school, or exams. so when your favorite inefficient, sidetracking study buddy had offered to spend the weekend out, who were you to say no? nobara had offered to go find a club, but it was far too cold out to frolic around in skimpy clothing and your expensive winter coats were much too valuable to risk being stolen in the haze of drunken students and sweaty bodies. so, you'd decided to go shopping, because what else is there to do with her? besides the usual karaoke session with the upperclassmen she seems to like so much, of course.

turns out, it'd had been a group endeavor. or, more accurately— a group of four, unlike the duo you had previously thought you'd be going out in. yuji and megumi were there too— friends from separate majors; you'd heard that yuji was involved in the uprising surge of software engineers and computer science majors clambering for a shot in the world of big AI tech companies, even though he supposedly was about as computer-smart as your teetering old grandma ripe with age, permanently stuck in her rocking chair crocheting the days away.

megumi, on the other hand, was a mystery. you'd shared a few classes together; his chipped dark nails that shone the same blue as his esoteric eyes beneath the warmth of the glowing sun, and his inky black hair that spilled over the collars of his simple gray sweatshirts like effortlessly graceful calligraphy on paper had captured your attention as smooth and seamless as the daylight turned to darkness, days cut short by the onslaught of cold. even so, you'd never brought yourself to interact much— he seemed like he'd prefer to keep to himself, if the way he'd disdainfully scoot away from anyone who tried to approach him and turn up the volume of his headphones indicated anything. you had laughed to your friend and called it introversion to its finest, only to promptly shut up when his unmoving gaze landed on you, leaving you feeling like a clown on the stage, rimmed by rich dark red curtains and a wooden floorboard as the beaming spotlight shines upon you imaginary button nose, hot and glaring under his gaze. 

even though you'd approved of his music taste once you snagged a few notes by the ear, you'd really thought his taste in fashion was too bland to be the type of person to shop with nobara— her meticulous style and image were much brighter and more flamboyant than megumi's jaded attempts at a splash of color through the occasional blue argyle or layered turtleneck. still, those were better than yuji's paltry attempts at fashion; at least the myriads of color on nobara's figure were coordinated. the pink-haired boy with funny scars on his face would probably have been better off learning graphic design or art, with the disasters of clashing colors on his person.

and he'd gotten the opportunity to demonstrate his questionable tastes on the chilly evening, when black ice had begun to form on the roads and the soft light of boutiques with slow jazz flowing from the speakers filled your frost-bitten red ears as you walked up to the shade of a nearby lamppost. once you'd all met up, nobara had hooked an arm around your elbow and dragged you off, leaving the boys to follow along like it was walking dogs.

honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you were— at least, with yuji. he carried nobara's bags like she was the next princess in line, without complaint and with the little fearful quivers that dogs get in their legs whenever their owners scold them for barking or misbehaving, much like how nobara would yell at yuji if he dropped a single cream linen sweater or ruffled pink cami.

megumi, on the other hand, was far too lethargic and quiet to be considered any kind of canine. although the weaved bracelet on his left wrist with a cute little puppy charm you caught sight of when he'd rolled his sleeve up implied otherwise. the only reason he'd even had to do that was to rub the sickeningly sweet orange blossom hand sanitizer nobara had spritzed on each of your palms after you took turns petting a stray cat, one that seemed to take a great liking to you and megumi in particular.

the night seemed to drag on forever; pale yellow lights and holiday decorations blurred into swathes and bubbles of color in your vision as the hours passed and the caffeine from the cute little coffeeshop you'd stopped at earlier began to wear off.

but there had just been something magical about that evening; spending time with friends (albeit, more like acquaintances) had granted you a much-needed break from cramming your mind with an overflow of information that was sure to spill out the moment you answered the last exam question. so, when it was almost midnight and it was time to retire to your bed, you'd insisted on staying out for just a little longer while nobara and the rest returned to their dorms to catch some sleep. yuji had complained something about his legs cramping, but you were feeling giddy, and the stars were twinkling just as bright as the light in nobara's eyes were when you told her you had to soak in the fresh air for as long as you could before being locked in to study again as she laughed and headed home with her pink dog-boy escort in tow.

megumi had mumbled something about staying with you since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. you didn't think too much about it, because if you did, you were sure you'd end up with a faced even more flushed than it was frostbitten from the cold.

so, here you were, strolling down the quieter side of town, a brooding boy with inky dark hair and hands pale with blue veins shoved into the pockets of his jacket trailing behind you. he had one airpod tucked into his pierced ear; you assumed he hadn't brought his headphones because yuji would be there to prattle and babble. even so, you were content not to say anything, so there was plenty of opportunity for him to wear both. but he wasn't. you decided not to linger on it.

you'd just finished writing a silly little note out of the crisp snow gathered on the windshield of some stranger's car; the flakes were cold and biting on your skin, leaving it feeling numb with little droplets of icy water when you pulled away to admire your handiwork.

"actually, maybe i shouldn't be doing that." you decided after a moment, mumbling under your breath. it was just a little message with a whiskered smiley face, but the headlights on the car and the bumper seemed to form a frown at you when you stepped back, shaking its motorized head at your vandalism.

"you think?"

megumi's voice sounded from behind you, a little weighed down by the cold with a wisp of warmth leaving his lips like a powdery exhale, curling into the prickly night air. he was standing on the sidewalk, observing you all prickly-like as if you were some flagrant toddler he was babysitting. you still had to get used to the way his voice sounded after rarely hearing it; the few crumbs you got when your professors forced obligatory presentations onto struggling students had sent this warm, fuzzy feeling collecting in your stomach at the rich tone of velvet it held. not rough or overly deep, but smooth and reassuring. the kind you could fall asleep to; like there was a lullaby just waiting to be poured from his tongue with little scratches in the indent of his tone.

of course, you hadn't heard enough of it to make such an assumption, so when you heard the little quip framed with irritation at the edges, it wasn't all sugary sweetness like you imagined.

"yeah, well, sorry i like to live a little," you huffed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to resuscitate some warmth back into them with a small little sigh.

"you call that living?" he scoffs a little, cocking an eyebrow at the vandalized toyota behind you. now, it just looked a little sad; imaginary eyebrows over the red lights droopy in disappointment. you followed his gaze, before looking back at him and making a sour face as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

"maybe we just have different tastes, y'know? doesn't mean we don't have to get along like this," you mumbled, shaking your hands out a little to get the remaining snow droplets off before stuffing them back in your blazer pockets. "just like itadori and nobara. one has terrible taste in fashion and the other doesn't, but they both like their bright colors." you feel satisfied with yourself for that one, but clearly, megumi doesn't feel the same. but the corner of his pink lips seem to quirk up just a tiny bit, and you feel pride blooming in your chest.

there's just something about the way it looks— an almost implausible smile coaxed onto his lips by something particularly amusing, reaching his dull blue eyes in a way that made their usual tedious apathy morph into something like fondness, or appreciation. adding a shine to his navy irises the lamp light overhead could only hope to mimic. then again, you didn't let your mind linger on it for too long like usual— so instead you chalked it up to the one other thing that had caught your eye besides the sharpness of his jaw and the handsome slimness of his face: his jacket.

you take back what you said about his style and its blandness before— it would be unfair to what he was wearing right now. just a simple black turtleneck (one that you were sure he'd worn to the early morning wednesday lecture you had a few days ago, when the sun was still bright enough to catch on the condensation of the cup of lemonade your white-haired, oddly sweet-toothed professor had), and black jeans, but the vintage racing windbreaker hanging from his shoulders brought it together in a way that was unfairly seamless; all dark blues and stripes of checker; a neutral grayblue that reminded you of the sky on rainy afternoons, trudging about the shopping districts in tokyo. there were a few brand patches here and there, some red bubble lettering of names you didn't recognize in patches of color that brought out the shade of his eyes. maybe the labels of those energy drink brands you often caught him running on when the shadows beneath his long dark lashes seemed heavier than usual.

all that to say he looked good. like, seriously good. you didn't know how you hadn't noticed all night— but now that you had, it was hard to keep your eyes from his slim and tall silhouette (not that he minded). the jacket really complimented it.

"that's a neat jacket. where'd you get it?" you asked after a moment of chilling silence; he'd probably noticed you looking, and you prayed he didn't think you were checking him out. although, if that meant getting your hands on one of those windbreakers, you wouldn't really mind. he glanced up at you, tearing his attention from the sad snowy toyota camry that seemed worn past its years at the newfound attention on megumi's racing jacket. he blinked a little, and you didn't miss the little flake of frost on his eyelash; probably caught from brushing past a windowsill earlier. by now, most shops were closed; even so, the street still felt warm and safe. well, maybe it was to be credited to a person rather than the concrete— but like you had been all night, you ignored it.

"oh, this?" as if he was wearing more than one jacket (it was cute), "i thrifted it." and for some reason, you didn't expect to be surprised, but you were. him? thrifting? the few western-fashion tailored thrift stores you'd been to with nobara had been lacking— not like you'd been able to stay in them long; the artificial ginger had this... beef with reused clothes. she liked her clothes clean and fresh from the press, even if you reminded her they could just be fresh from someone else's press. megumi must be familiar with the antiquated racks of varied worn graphic tees and frayed pants if he could fish something that classy from a thrift store.

then again, it's not like you had any experience to go off of at all.

"really? y'know, i've always wanted to go thrifting," you sighed, stretching your arms out, watching the fabric of your blazer wrinkle and curve to follow the movement of your muscles. a light dusting of snow coated the surface, like powdered sugar on tiramisu. that makes the coffee stains fitting. "but i feel like i'm bad at it." you said, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, the rubber bottom of your sneakers brushing against a little clump of pine green weeds.

"bad at it?" megumi echoes, following you with a faint ruffle of smooth fabric, like the sound of a zipper sliding down. before, the world had been a cool shade of gray, like smoke rising from a cigarette or the blurry blue of the sky from the window of a speeding bullet train. but now, you let yourself soak in the sound of his voice, like grinded coffee beans and a smooth, soothing honey medicine for your throat on a sick day when you get to cozy up in your bunk bed and watch the clouds drift by.

it's nice.

"yeah. like, i wouldn't know where to go, or what to find, or what to look for..." you trailed off, rubbing your cold fingers together again as your breaths leave in little exhales of coagulating mist in the cold night air. now that it was late, it the temperature would only continue to drop.

you walked in silence for a little longer, listening to the scuffles of shoes against concrete, glassy with ice that had begun to creep up on the roads like a steady stream of seafoam from the tides.

"why don't we go thrifting now, then?" he asks out of the snowy blue.

you paused, and you almost smacked straight into a pole. "now?" you spluttered, turning around to face him. the look on his face was unreadable; a mix between exasperation, amusement, an attempt at stoicism, and something like affection in the corner of his lips as they curved upward. it was like a CPR compression; the smile that sent fuzzy electricity through your veins and reinvigorated your heart.

"yes, now." he said it like you were stupid, which you might just be, the way you stared dumbly at his face. "the place i got this jacket from is just over there," he said, jutting a ring-adorned thumb behind him. you had to lean up and peek around his shoulder to see it; you wouldn't've noticed if he didn't point it out. it was tucked between two buildings, a stairway downward into the store. the only thing indicating its status as a retail and thrifting store was the broken neon sign and painted red arrow that gestured towards the staircase.

"looks really shady. and it's late." you grumbled after you got over yourself, and he shot you an irritated look. that was all he really seemed to be doing tonight; that downward knit of his dark eyebrows and the slight pout weighing his lips down. not very suave, you think.

he swallows hard, and you aimlessly watch the bob of his adam's apple. "well?" he prompts, a hard edge to his voice despite the situation. you stand there for a little while, marinating in the growing cold until you cant feel the tips of your fingers.

"fine."

one accidental slip on the crosswalk and a few minutes later, you're stepping down the last wooden stair of the thrift store and into the building's basement; it's much bigger than you would've thought, with an expanse of layered clothing racks that obscure your vision, the corners of the walls clogged with cobwebs and years of dust build up. there's a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke and cologne; something vanilla that you've caught clinging to megumi's wrists and neck on the rare occasion you brush past him. faint jazz spills from the speakers, something in a swing rhythm with the signature lilt of saxophone that makes you think you should be out enjoying a romantic fancy dinner instead of being cooped up between old wrinkly moth-bitten clothes. but you're here with megumi, so you convince yourself you don't mind either way.

"you sure this is the right place?" you asked, trying (and failing) to keep the obvious distain from your voice as you kick a folded 'floor-is-wet' sign from your path and step into the store. you can't even see the cash register from where you're standing.

"yes, i'm sure. can you stop complaining?" you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you're sure you could see it too if you just turned around. "trust me. it's not all shit." his voice softens, and you freeze up a little as he brushes past you; the corridors and margins are tight, so he has to turn sideways to fit. even so, a tag on your coat manages to snag on his jacket, and you hasten to unhook it before he can notice. he almost disappears into the racks, and you have to follow him, pushing your way through thick coats and worn graphic tees that have cracked logos and balls of lints clinging to them.

you're no thrifting expert, but you're pretty sure the store's supposed to be in better condition than this.

"hey." megumi's voice soon snaps you back into reality, and you look up from the mustard yellow top you were eyeing warily to meet his sedate gaze. "the good stuff's in the back. c'mon." he doesn't give you much room to argue even though it sounds like you're here to do drugs rather than find clothing, and before you can react he's reached forward to grab your wrist and tug you along. a yelp of protest almost spills from your lips, but you bite your tongue and let him drag you along, trying to extinguish the hue of cherry you know is making a home on the tips of your ears.

you brush past patchwork coats and a few leather belts that've tangled with the lace from the silk shirts next to them, but nothing really catches your eye, until you realize that he's let go of you only because of the lack of warmth around your skin and you focus yourself on the current again. you glance up at him, but he already has his back turned to you, sifting through a rack of black shirts that all look the exact same. maybe you have an untrained eye, though.

still, you can't help it when your gaze lingers over the back of his neck; one strand of dark hair has caught itself beneath the collar of his turtleneck, and it irks you. and you decide to do something about it because you'll know it'll bother you if you don't.

time seems to move in a liquid slow; things are blurring and there's no mothballs or ugly recycled coats to get in your way as you reach over and swipe your hand across his neck, hooking a finger beneath the strand and pulling it out of his collar. it takes you a moment to realize what you just did, and when you do, it's like there's a permanent mark seared into your index finger just from the touch of his skin against your own. you think he might have whiplash because he turns his head around so fast to catch your gaze before you can slink away, eyes wide and eyebrows knit, and you notice his bottom lip is snagged between his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow, but before he can utter a shaming word that'll only make you feel more embarrassed you shake your head vigorously, apologetically.

"sorry— it was bothering me. i hope you don't mind." you managed to say, the words spilling out in a rush before you turned away and slipped past him, disappearing into an aisle of dresses. you can feel his gaze burning cold holes into your back as you distract yourself.

you don't let yourself linger on what you just did— you seem to be doing a lot of that, lately, especially with him as you go through a few batches of clothing. by now, it's far past midnight, and you're feeling much more sluggish than you'd like to admit. you haven't seen megumi in a good twenty minutes save for the few times you picked up a few shirts and a cute diner jacket you thought would look good on him. he just thanked you bluntly, taking the bundle of clothing from your arms before walking away to the fitting rooms. you wished he'd stay to let you see the jacket.

you'd tried on a few things, discarding your blazer in favor of a cute knitted cardigan you grabbed, but nothing seemed to stick the way you'd like them to. it would be a great help if you had nobara to assist, but you were sure she was snoring away at home right now, and at the thought of your warm, inviting bed, your knees wobbled a little and you balanced yourself on the wall.

"hey— oh, you alright?" it's an unfamiliar voice; you lift your head up, looking for the source. it's a young boy— he looks to be about your age, maybe a little younger. there's a blue lanyard around his neck, and he's got a spattering of freckles on his hands, which are curled around the collar of a white linen shirt. he must be the one who's tending to the store.

"yeah, i'm okay. sorry," you said hastily, pushing away and rubbing the back of your neck. how embarrassing— he didn't seem to mind, though. he just smiled, big and bright and toothy. cute. reminded you of how toddlers would grin up at parents with those huge red lollipops in hand.

"no worries. i just thought i'd let you know that we're closing soon, since it's almost 2am." he said, shifting his weight on his sneakers. you nodded, about to give a hum of confirmation before another voice cuts through the slow jazz filling the stifling air above, all familiar in its smoothness.

before you could respond, though— "[name]?" megumi's voice rang out in the quaint little store, calling for you, and so you give the employee an apologetic nod before you turn and start toward the noise. you pass a mirror with a coat draped over the top, peeking your head around a tall rack of long skirts to catch sight of the raven head, in all of his glory. you notice that he's taken off his windbreaker.

"what’s up? we have to go soon," you reminded him, yawning a little and rubbing your eyes as you straightened up and stepped over to his side. there was another mirror in front of him, you noticed, with fading stickers pale in the dim yellow light stuck to the wooden rim. even so, with the smudges and the bare sheen of the silver, he looked good. that black turtleneck really suits him.

"i know. i just wanted to ask for your opinion." he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. you tilted your head curiously, and he held up a deep mauve sweatshirt, with some varsity logo branded on the fabric. it had a nice touch to it; a warm color that reminded you of red wine and slow evenings. you were sure it had been one of the pieces you'd picked out for him, but you were too sleepy to recall. "you should try it on. i think it'd look good," you said, gesturing toward the mirror.

you think you must've said something wrong, because he looks at you for a moment too long before he seems to catch himself staring and he nods, a choked little sound leaving his throat which he hides by ducking his head down and covering his face with his long bangs. you think you're hallucinating the pink on his cheeks.

after a moment, he glances at you. "hold this," he shoves his jacket towards you, and you have no choice but to take it. doesn't seem like he's used to taking no for an answer, but you're certainly not the one complaining when he tugs the sweater over his head, ruffling his soft black hair as he steps a little closer to you, observing himself in the mirror while straightening out the folds and fixing his turtleneck. you were right— it does look good on him. almost unfairly so— you don't know how he manages to rock granny clothes so well, like he was born a retirement home's runway model.

unlike him, you're not a reticent shut in— and although you'd like to say you have no problem telling him how good he looks, it's still a little difficult when the words feel like they're lodged in your throat in order to prevent you from making a fool of yourself again. but you ignore it and push on.

"you look great. i think it really suits you," you breathed, shaking your head as your hands tighten around his jacket in your arms. he blinks, adjusting the collar before glancing down at you. you take a moment to really appreciate the sight— him, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the chipped lights overhead. despite the dilapidated store and the antiquated, worn clothing surrounding him, he still manages to look like some ethereal angel boy you'd stumble upon in a bookstore on a dreary winter's afternoon and never be able to get out of your mind again.

ink black eyelashes flutter when he blinks, framing his eyes like the bangs falling over his face when he turns around again to observe himself in the mirror once more before he takes the sweatshirt off. it catches on his turtleneck, which rides up when he slips the mauve sweater over his head, tussling his hair and exposing the dip of his pale hips, all muscle and flesh and bone, and you pray he chalks up the red on your face to the cold. the end of his belt dangles from the buckle as you hand his jacket back to him, fingers almost brushing— just barely out of reach.

a meager conversation flows between the two of you; you follow him through the endless maze of used clothing until you somehow stumble upon the cash register and he buys his sweater; the only thing he manages to buy after all this time spent milling about in a dusty, dinky little retail store. the boy from earlier helps check him out, and the icy glare he receives from megumi when he glances at you seems to fly straight past your head as you pick at your cuticles. the tips of your fingers are still red from messing with the frosty snow earlier. you wonder when the car owner will find your message.

it's almost freezing when you get out of the dusty shop, emerging from the smoke-stained alleyway stairs and into the cold night air. your breaths almost seem to form a precipitate, and the thought reminds you of the chemistry conversions waiting for you on your desk beneath the lamp, and you cringe internally. staying out for a few hours longer seems way better than succumbing to the never ending stream of worksheets and documents calling your name. you wonder if your charismatic professor will let you get away with a few assignments if you call in sick. are papercuts excuse enough?

the click of a lock behind you signifies the store's closing— the employee left through a back exit, it seems. and you realize too late that you left your blazer in the dressing room when you turn around and a sigh falls from your lips. megumi, paper bag in hand, glances over at you.

"you okay?"

you almost forgot he was there, in his brooding vintage racing jacket glory. you shake your head, before sighing forlornly again. he notices this, making a little face; his lips press together and his pretty eyes narrow. he thinks you sigh far too much. you'd look prettier if you smiled some more. he likes it when you do.

"i left my blazer in there, but he just closed it and it's so fucking cold out," you whined, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes tiredly. you're cold and your fingers are going numb again, and there's light snowfall. so much for not losing your coat at a club. you can't tell which one's worse. "sorry to complain so much, but do you mind if we—"

you're promptly cut off; the words on your tongue left unsaid, burning with the taste of bitter black coffee. your gaze trails from megumi's hand, the clink of his silver ring against the zipper rail of his jacket as his fingers curl around the fabric, up his arm to the sleeves of his dark turtleneck, rounding the curve of his shoulders and up his neck to his face. he's not looking at you.

the words that leave his wet lips are so small and hurried that you think you're hallucinating them; when you inevitably looked back at this moment later, you'd realize that he was being shy. he mumbles something under his sweet breath, and you ask him to speak up.

"i said, you can use mine." he repeats, louder than necessary as he finally brings himself to look down at you from under his lashes, biting the inside of his cheek. his voice is a little strained, and a soft breeze carrying the smell of cinnamon and fresh ice rustles his hair. you blinked, feeling like a deer caught in headlights over a layer of thin ice, ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

"oh— okay. um, do you have anywhere else you need to go..?" you said tentatively, reaching forward to take his jacket again. it was exactly like how you'd done back in the thrift store, but the vague sense of deja vu you get is accompanied by an endless fluttering of warmth in your stomach that melts away the winters and tiring exams, and the night seems to become a soft warm orange, as if someone's drained the cool hues from the landscape.

megumi just shook his head, reaching into his bag and taking out the sweater he'd bought earlier. he slips it on again, adjusting it over his shoulders and refusing to meet your eyes as he crumples the paper bag in his hands. you notice they're slightly trembling as he does it, fingers digging into the material with much more force than is really needed. his hair follows each movement of his head; the strain of the muscles in his neck when he swallows again and gestures for you to follow him back down the empty street, past cars coated in melting snow and jaunty yellow lights twinkling over the awnings of closed store windows, shut down for the night. the sweater suits him really well, you think; not too loose, but tight enough in the right places to send your heart racing a mile a minute.

you pull his jacket over your arms, tucking your sleeves in and zipping it up. it's big on you— that's no surprise, and you can almost taste the vanilla on your tongue, his cologne lingering on every fold of the insulated fabric. it's warm, and it feels like being enveloped in a tight hug. in megumi's head, he hopes— prays its him you think of if you ever feel that way again.

you walk in a stiff silence; both of you want to say something, but you're dancing around it, letting your words linger unsaid until the other breaks the ice first. it's only ever cracked once you reach the dorms, where you part ways. there's light snowfall, and a thin layer of white has coated his hair when you turn to face him. you reach forward, learning onto the tips of your toes to brush off the ice. his hair feels unimaginably soft beneath your fingers, slightly damp from the snow. but he's the furthest from cold when you pull away; his face is burning up.

by now, you can't bring yourself to mind.

"thank you," you said softly, sighing contentedly. you move to take his jacket off your shoulders and return it, but he stops you, holding a hand up. the expression on his face is unreadable, but his lips are pursed together in a way that makes you think he's pouting.

"don't worry—" a pause. " you can, uh. keep it. i know you wanted one. just... give it back when you want, yeah?" he says, curt. almost prude, if it weren't for the way he was avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment. it was like trying to play the world's most difficult game of whack-a'mole, attempting to catch his eyes and see the iceberg that's melted into pools of warm glittering affection in his blue irises. at the thought, you wonder if he likes arcades, and you make a mental note to suggest an activity to nobara the next time she has the urge for an escapade.

you don't bother asking him whether he's sure, because you don't want him to take his words back. so you linger there in a moment of silence, letting it hang over your heads like a warm throw blanket, cozied in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. maybe a coffee mix like you'd attempted before.

angel boy clears his throat first to speak, all honey that links the syllables together like christmas ribbon; rich like orange flavored dark chocolate. "i'll see you later, then." it's short and sweet, but your heart is already flying so high on euphoria you can barely bring yourself to care, or suppress the giddy grin that's spreading across your lips.

yeah, you're tired. yeah, you're still a little cold and you think you need to thaw at your desk for a week until exams, but at least you've got his jacket to accompany you when your study buddy passes out first and you're alone on all nighters. frankly, you can't bring yourself to care— your head is spinning with the events of the chilly night, from crude messages in the snow to thrift store mothballs and lanyards, to one checkered racing jacket. but you don’t think it’s so bad when it threatens to stick to your memory, like chewed up gum under your professor’s desk. whether it’s from the students or the professor, that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.

"yeah. see you around, fushiguro." you can’t say the same about the mystery that megumi is, though. in fact, you think you’re already one step closer when you turn around and part ways, catching sight of him in the reflection of a frosted window. he’s slipping both of his airpods back into his ears, crimson at the tips.

the sound of your shoes against the rug stairway fills your ears as you clamber back up to your dorm, eyelids heavy with drowsiness and face flushed a pleasant warmth. even when you finally get to bed, you can't stop your eyes from drifting over to the bundle of lapis blue fabric sitting on your desk, and your mind from the soft spoken boy with eyes like the night sky and inky hair like calligraphy.

you decide you don't think his style is too bad, after all. and when you tell him that the next morning when he's still sleepy and his lashes fall slow when he blinks the weariness from his eyes, you get to enjoy the steady flush that stains his cheeks and prompts a hoarse cough from his throat when he ducks his head away and grumbles something under his breath, probably about being offended you even thought he was boring in the first place.

and if you ever ask, the only reason he lent you his windbreaker that night was to replace the scent of mothballs and dust with your sweet-smelling perfume.

so, as it turns out, you're able to get your hands on one of those pretty vintage racing jackets— except, it wasn't a new one; it was his. nobara hasn't stopped pestering you with questions since you showed up to class the next day; the only thing you hear for the next week is how much she regrets leaving early.

apparently, it's all yuji's fault.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, sexually charged conversations, teasing/banter. Smut, sex toys, minor bondage, spanking. A guest star of Anthony DiNozzo! I didn't really want to bring in a whole THIRD fandom into this but it ended up working out really nicely and I can play around with it in future chapters too! It feels like it's been ages since I've updated this so clearly the last week was a long one lol. Remember how I said I wanted to be a chapter ahead from now on with my series? Yeah that quickly did not happen. LOL. I'm gonna try to keep up with it, and I promise y'all won't wait longer than a week between chapters, I just need to hunker down and write!

Working for Heather meant that you worked insane hours that could change at the drop of a hat, but it also meant that you could essentially make your own schedule whenever you wanted. You could do most of your job from home or a hotel, as long as you had Wi-Fi you were in the clear, you spent a lot of your time gallivanting around D.C to finish whatever tasks you needed to. Shuffling your schedule around constantly meant that you were more than given the liberty to a Thursday afternoon off and that is exactly why you were meandering down Wisconsin Avenue with Tony in tow. Some of your friends questioned why you always went shopping with him, but the truth was he knew style, understood expensive taste, always told the truth if something looked bad and the entire experience was more efficient. If you went out with your girlfriends on a shopping spree you got dragged into twelve stores you needed nothing from and had to wait while they tried on countless amounts of outfits. With Tony the most that would happen would you’d have some extra browsing time at L. Priori because he got distracted by the watches.

“You got some big White House party coming up or something?” He asked, taking a sip of the coffee you’d bought him earlier.

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder as you picked up the small bag, “no.”

“We’ve done jewels, we’ve done shoes,” he pushed the door open for you, holding it while you crossed through the entry way and back out onto the street, “you dropped off three dresses for alterations and looked through the catalogue of what’s coming in…”

“I just want to revamp my closet a little bit, make sure I’m prepared for summer, you know how many extra garden parties I end up at.”

“And your boss is okay with that amount of cleavage?” He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I got a little carried away doing spring cleaning and tossed half my closet.” You bluffed, “I work so much I forgot I actually wore the other shit and now need to replace it.” Veering off to the side your hand tugged open the door to Jaryam and Tony followed you inside.

“When’s your next date?” He asked with a grin.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“Then why did you just drag me into a lingerie store?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I didn’t drag you anywhere, you love this shit. I just want some new pieces; you’ve got the right eye for colour and the masculine fetishistic imagination to tell me which ones I’ll look the best in.”

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to disagree with you as you made your way further into the shop, he was a pace behind you, fiddling with a price tag when he scoffed and you turned back to him with a raised brow, “I’ve heard you complain about the prices in Victoria’s Secret and that’s got nothing on this, a thong for a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s… about the quality.” You shrugged, “thirty dollars for a scrap of fabric that falls apart in a month made in a sweatshop isn’t a good investment.” You picked up the pair that he was looking at, reading through the tag, “something hand stitched made with quality fabric that’s going to last? Worth it.”

“Hmm.” He replied, surveying you for a minute as you put the thong back on the rack, “you know, I noticed when you picked up the coffee that you used a black card…”

“You’re really working those sleuthing skills today, aren’t ya?” You teased back with a grin, moving onto a wall of lace bras.

“It’s not exactly a difficult mystery.” He smirked, following you, “fancy shoes, nice jewels, new clothes, expensive lingerie,” you turned back to face him, an unimpressed look on your face and he practically caged you into the wall, “who’s your daddy?”

“Ew, Tony, fuck off.” You groaned, shoving at his chest as he laughed, “coffee and meals can be turned into a write off. I used Heather’s card.”

“Bah! Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just run your financials when I get back to the office.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “they call you a very Special Agent DiNozzo?”

“Why yes, yes they do.” He smiled, getting a little smug about it and you shook your head at him.

“Then explain to me how running my financials would let you in on whose card I’m using.” You asked, watching as he opened his mouth to give you some witty response but he couldn’t find one, gaping for a minute before he let out a defeated huff and you tugged him in the other direction, “now c’mon, I know you have a good eye for lingerie.”

“Now that, I will not deny.” He replied with a smile and you did roll your eyes as he followed you deeper into the shop.

You combed through practically every shelf in the place, trying to figure out what kind of styles you were going to settle on before Tony started to share his opinions. He reminded you how good blue looked on you when you picked up a soft pink set and suggested the lace florals over lace butterflies. You were narrowing it down between a handful of choices and he was quick to intervene when he noticed you were eliminating all the variation.

“Wait,” he cut in, swiping the one you were trying to put back on the shelf, “keep that one. Get rid of this one.” He plucked the peach set from your collection, tossing it into the return pile.

“It’s cute!” You protested.

“Exactly. Everything you’re keeping is ‘cute’, you’re playing it too safe and I know that’s not you. The lilac one is the nicest, little hint of lace for a bonus, so get it.” He started flicking through the rack you had your favourites on, “keep the teal one for the crystals, plus it matches that pair of heels you bought. The rest of this batch can go but add these to your buying list.” He picked up a lacy black and red set that was mostly see through and included a garter belt, handing it off to you, and a gorgeous deep green set. “That’ll look great with your skin,” his brow furrowed for a second as he examined it, “wait it’s not your size, you’re what?” His eyes were suddenly on you and you groaned,

“Stop staring at my tits.” You stated dryly as he turned around, grabbing another one of the green set from the shelf.

“Thirty four C, right?”

“I don’t know whether I should be impressed or grossed out that you were able to figure that out.”

“They don’t call me Very Special Agent DiNozzo for nothing.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to go try these on.” You scooped up the remaining sets, “not for your viewing pleasure! Occupy yourself.”

You weren’t surprised in the least when all of Tony’s recommendations were right and you were happy to be leaving with a variety of options. Returning from the dressing room you found him near the till looking through accessories and he shot you a cocky grin as you placed all of his choices down on the counter. You shuffled the shopping bags in your hand over to the other one,

“Can you hold this?” You asked, handing him your purse as you pulled Emily’s card from within it, passing it off to the cashier. Once the purchase was completed and the cashier was wrapping up the lingerie, she placed the card down on the counter and out of the corner of your eye you saw Tony making a move for it, managing to swipe it up before he could get to it.

“Hey!” You swatted the back of his head and he grimaced.

“Ow. That was worse than Gibbs.” He muttered.

“You fuck around and you’ll find out.” You returned but he was too busy on his phone to really pay attention.

You took your purse back from him, tossing it over your shoulder as you thanked the clerk and added the bag of lingerie to the others with your shopping and the two of you made your way back onto the street. You jumped when Tony’s fingers prodded at your side, digging into your ribs.

“C’mon… let me know something, please.” He batted his eyes at you, “I just helped you pick lingerie; I deserve to know something. Doctor? Artist? App developer? Congressman?”

“Nope, nope, nope and hard nope.” You replied with a huff and he groaned so you finally turned back to him, stalling in your steps, “what I will tell you, is that she most definitely outranks NCIS, so you can officially drop it.”

“Ohoho… a new lady friend…” It was his turn to slow in his tracks, eyes lingering in the window of the next shop, “you need any special accessories for that?”

“Tony you’re insane if you think I’m taking you into a sex toy store.”

“Meh, doesn’t really matter since you’ve already covered that step.” He grinned and your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Swiped your phone and went through your emails.” With a laugh he tossed the device back to you as you let out a gasp, “peach flavoured lube, nice. Nipple clamps? Kinky, didn’t realize you were into that kinda pain.” That earned him a hard punch on the arm, “but that double sided dildo with vibration? Now that sounds like a real party.”

“Anothony DiNozzo!” You scolded and he let out a small whine of a scoff, gesturing toward the sex store.

“I’m the perfect person to give sex toy recommendations, c’mon.” He protested and you sighed.

“Tony. You are a straight man. What could you possibly known about sex toys for me to use with another woman?”

“One of those wand things, Hibachi?”

“That’s Japanese barbecue, but nice try.”

“The wands!”

“You’re going for Hitachi.”

“Close enough!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, “the big one’s better but I think they sell smaller ones too, more portable.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you sighed.

“Think? Tony, pull your head outta your ass. Any self respecting person with a clit already owns one of those.”

“Really?” He smirked at you and you did your best not to groan.

“I’ve got three, a mini pink, a mini green and the big one, which yes, is far superior. Can we go now?”

“Fine.” He groaned, feigning annoyance, “you dragging me to a nail appointment next?”

“No, I was gonna buy you a late lunch.”

“You were? Or is your mommy dearest gonna buy lunch.” He exaggerated the word, nearly moaning as he said it and you immediately grimaced.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Yup, that one felt wrong coming out. My bad, that’s on me.”

**

Emily turned down dessert service, asking for the cheque instead as she gave the server a soft smile, picking up her cocktail once again as she turned back to you. In turn, you finished your drink, placing the glass down on the table as you stood, your hand coming to squeeze at Emily’s thigh softly as your lips brushed against her cheek.

“Give me a five minute head start, I’ve got a surprise for you.” You scooped up your phone, shooting Emily a wink as you sauntered away from the table in the direction of the elevator.

Her eyes followed you through the entrance of the lounge, narrowing in on your ass as you pushed the elevator button and the sparks began to fly through her body. It hadn’t been a particularly long week, but it was very safe to say that you had been on her mind more often than not. Images of your naked body strewn across the bed floating into her brain, making her cheeks flush while she was torturously bored with paperwork. A too long tedious conference call lead to her zoning out, daydreaming all the things she wanted to do to you, the noises you made echoing through her mind. It was almost a given that night that she had a rather self soothing shower when she got home, pulling her laptop out when she finally crawled into bed to take a look at what fun things she could buy to occupy your time with in the future weekends.

Emily settled the bill, slowly draining the rest of her cocktail until she was certain she’d given you enough time to do whatever it was you had planned before she finally left the restaurant. The key card beeped against the lock and she stepped inside the suite, letting the door swing shut behind her before she made sure it was locked. She stepped out of her heels, dropping her purse on the side table in the entry way before rounding the bed into the suite, catching a glimpse of you laid out on the bed and her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Well that certainly is a welcome sight.”

“Yeah?” You asked, sitting up and shifting onto your knees, “you see something you like?”

“I see plenty I like.” She walked up to the foot of the bed as you crawled on your knees to greet her, your hands settling on her hips as one of hers curled around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers for a kiss.

Her tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a satisfied groan, both of you relaxing into the kiss, lips dancing with grace against each other. Her hand slipped into your hair, pulling out the pins to let it fall loose around your shoulders, pulling at it lightly. When her teeth scraped against your lip you couldn’t help but moan, your hands drifting up her body as you slowly began to unbutton her shirt. She broke the kiss to help you untuck the fabric from her pants, letting it drop to the floor behind her before her fingers began to trace the lines of the teal lingerie set, floating over the gems decorating your chest.

“You like the crystals?” You asked, small grin on your lips and she nodded.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re Swarovski.” You replied with a near smirk and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“You really went all in, hey?”

“Just wanted to make sure I looked nice and pretty for you.” You shrugged coyly and she chuckled, giving you a once over.

“Well you do.” She leant down, kissing you gently before her hands nudged at your shoulders, “you’re not the only one who brought something fun, lie back princess.”

“I noticed.” You replied, a gleam in your eye as you dropped into the pillows, an arm extending to the nightstand where you picked up a silk tie, “multifaceted, curious as to what your intentions are.”

“First…” Emily rounded the side of the bed, “I want to see what’s under that gorgeous bra.” She nodded at you and you sat up, hands flying behind you to unclip it, gently tossing it to the side, “good girl.” She plucked the fabric from your hands, picking up a longer one from the nightstand before kneeling on the bed. “Give me your hands.” She instructed and you held your hands out for her, wrists gently pressed together as she began to wind the fabric around them, “is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” You replied, looking up at her with darkening eyes as she tightened the silk.

“Do you have a word?”

“I’m fond of peach.”

“Perfect.” With a wicked grin she placed a gentle kiss on your wrist before guiding you to lie back with your arms over your head and she looped the shorter piece through your bonds, securing the other end to the golden bar of the headboard. “No surprises there.” She purred as she slid off the bed, letting out a satisfied hum as her eyes dragged over your body.

“Hm?” You raised a brow, watching as she moved back to a spare chair.

“Just how pretty you look tied up like that.” Emily tossed a grin over her shoulder, “but you are going to need to roll over for the second part of your treat.”

You nearly let out a whine when her hands came to her belt buckle, eager to be able to see both what was coming next and what she had under her clothes. Instead of risking it you decided to behave, rolling onto your stomach, your arms stretching over your head as you twisted it to the side, just barely able to see Emily under your arm. She had busied herself with getting rid of her clothing, a neat pile forming on the small bench next to her bag as she pulled out the strap, swiftly stepping into it and securing it around her hips. Your mouth was practically watering already and then she reached into her bag again, pulling out a crop with a cute little heart on the end and you had to hold back a moan.

Emily could see the way your body tensed, how your hips ground down into the bed as she reapproached it and a dark chuckle escaped her lips. Kneeling on the bed behind you her hand grasped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart and you did your best to arch your back, presenting yourself to her.

“Such obedience.” She murmured, letting the crop lightly trace up your inseam as you let out an airy breath.

Emily slowly trailed the crop up and down your legs, just the slightest hint of touch that she knew you were absolutely begging for in your head. She could see the way your body twitched whenever it got close to the heat between your legs and a wicked grin took over her lips. The crop finally came up over the swell of your ass, softly circling and tracing patterns on your skin and you finally let out a whine. Since this was the first time you’d actually made a louder noise, Emily figured this was the time to both give in and start to really tantalize you now. She raised the crop, swatting it down onto your ass and you let out a low moan.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You eagerly nodded into the pillows and the crop trailed across to the other cheek, repeating the circles before coming down harder on that side and your breath caught in your throat.

“Ohh…” Your fingers interlaced, squeezing tightly, “harder, please.”

“My little princess likes it rough.” Emily husked from behind you, “somehow I’m not that surprised.”

The crop came down on the same spot harder than the first before she flicked it over your other cheek, swatting just as hard, watching the way your body reacted, jolting at the touch before grinding your cunt down onto the bed. She brought the head of the crop between your legs, pushing the fabric of your panties into your pussy, rubbing the leather up and down your folds as you moaned, arching into the touch.

“Fuuckk…”

Emily chuckled darkly, bringing the crop up before hitting your ass with more force, smirking at the louder moans leaving your lips, the way you were pulling against your bonds, wishing your hands were free. The sounds of the spanks echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as your moans grew louder and longer, every time the crop was brought down onto your body it grew from a tingle to a pleasurable burn. Emily continued to trail the leather across your skin, occasionally her hand gently rubbing across the spot to sooth the burn, little praises and coos leaving her lips. The tingles each time she spanked you began to build, growing together with each hit of the crop until there was a fire building right under your skin, whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you buried your face into the pillows. Every swat of the crop made your entire body shiver and you were nearly about to start begging for more when she moved it back between your legs.

“You really like this, hmm?” She asked, pressing it against your cunt again, “making such a big wet spot on these nice panties.” She rubbed it harder against you, watching the way your wetness continued to soak the fabric, “you know, I’d take them off and stuff them in your mouth if you didn’t make such pretty noises…”

You groaned softly, your hips rocking back toward the touch, a little whimper leaving your throat when the crop nearly rubbed against your clit. Emily hummed softly, lifting the crop up before bringing it back down, this time onto your pussy and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped you.

“Oh fuucck…” Your head buried deeper into the pillows, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing, your clit nearly pulsing already, juices smearing across your underwear.

Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, flipping you onto your back watching as your legs instinctively fell open for her to see the growing wet spot on your panties. She brought the crop back to your cunt, rubbing it harder against you as you started to whine, resulting in another swat that brought a gasp from your lips.

“You like this even more, don’t you princess?” She asked with a grin and you nodded, “you want your pussy spanked too?” Spank. “Think you can come from just this?” Spank.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “more, please.”

“Always such nice manners.” She praised, her fingers slipping into the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing it behind her. Her hands soothed up your legs, spreading them even further apart from each other as her thumbs dared to brush the edges of your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy. God you’re just fucking drenched already.”

Emily picked the crop back up, rubbing it through your slick folds, pressing harder as she brought it to your clit.

“Please.” You whimpered and she chuckled softly.

The first hit was on the gentle side, her eyes tracing up your naked body, watching your face for any sign of discomfort but all she found was a look of sheer pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open as breathy moans escaped them, it was all she needed to bring the crop down even harder the next time.

“Fuck.” Your body twitched off the bed, cunt pulsing as more juices dribbled out of it.

“That’s it princess.” Spank. “You’re doing so good for me.” Spank.

“Oh god…” Your hands clutched at the silk ties as your body shivered, pleasure building higher and higher with each time the crop hit your cunt.

“I know you’re close.” Spank. “Just a few more.” Spank. “Pussy’s so wet.” Spank. “Let go for me.” Spank.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your back arching off the bed, pulling against the restraints as your orgasm shot through you, pussy pulsating around nothing as your juices dripped onto the bedspread.

“That’s it.” Emily cooed, the crop gently rubbing against your cunt, smearing your wetness all around it and your thighs. “So pretty when you come for me.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “need you.”

“You want more?” She asked, gently spanking your pussy again and you whined.

“No, please! Need your cock.” You were absolutely begging, pussy fluttering, feeling so entirely empty. Despite the powerful orgasm you needed to be filled, stretched around Emily to finally feel completely satisfied.

“So needy tonight.” Emily teased, dropping the crop to the side as she climbed over you, running the tip of the toy through your folds, “this what you want?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously, “please.”

“Alright.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, knowing you were absolutely drenched she sunk her cock fully into you until her hips met yours and you let out a very satisfied moan. She pulled back just enough to sneak her hand between your bodies, turning on the vibration on the base of the toy, just against her clit and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, pulling out until just the tip was left inside you and set a steady pace, fucking you thoroughly. Each thrust of her hips had your body twitching up off the bed, pulling against your restraints as you ached to touch her, pleasure shooting through your limbs.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “feels so good.”

Each thrust of her cock the head brushed right over your g-spot, pulling louder moans from you each time as your pussy began to clench down around her. You could feel your juices smearing across both of your bodies as she fucked deeper into you, picking up the pace as she knew you were getting close again.

“Are you going to come again for me angel?” She cooed, her hands gliding up your body to toy with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in time with her thrusts.

“S-s’close.” You moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet hers with each thrust.

Your hands tugged against the silk ties again, gasping when Emily’s lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to flick patterns across it. The double, nearly triple sensation if you counted the vibrations hitting your clit each time your bodies met was nearly too much, your pussy making almost more noise than the ones coming from your mouth. All you could do was whimper and whine, your head too fuzzy to get actual words to come out, the coil inside you got tighter and tighter until Emily’s teeth sunk into your chest and it burst through you.

“Fuck!”

Your body trembled, the tingles shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes as Emily continued to fuck you. Her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a low swear, now focused on chasing her own release. She sunk fully into you, pressing the vibrating part of the toy directly against her clit and it gave you the opportunity to roll your hips against hers, grinding the base harder onto her. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your eyes scrunched shut, another orgasm bursting through you from the sensation and Emily let out a soft cry.

“Oh god.” Her hand slipped between your bodies, switching the vibrations off before she sat up.

Emily panted slightly, attempting to catch her breath as she reached out, swiftly undoing the ties and your arms were finally free to drop to the bed. You let out a soft groan, flexing your hands before Emily caught them in hers, examining your wrists to make sure you hadn’t pulled too hard and hurt yourself. Once satisfied that you hadn’t she let them drop and shifted on her knees, slipping out of you and watching your juices dribble onto the bed.

“Mmm…” you sighed, your lips curving up into a grin.

“What?” She asked with a raised brow.

“That was hot.” You replied, “kinda wish you could come inside me though.”

“Well…” she leant over you, kissing you before nipping at your lower lip, “I’m sure that can be arranged for next time.”

_____________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[the-heros-sidekick]

❝ went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips. ❞

He feels it first at the back of his neck. A buzzing, like the crackling of electricity underneath his skin, reverberating against the hollow of his skull. Something is knocking, making its presence known: A particular kind of evil that had snuck into Stiles’ mind once already, stealing away control over his body. Condemning him to sit back, trapped in his own mind, rendering him powerless. Doomed to watch in horror as his  blood-stained hands wielded sharpened blades against those he loved. They’d gotten him out, though nearly at the cost of his own life—a sacrifice Stiles had been more than willing to make, so long as no one else would get hurt because of him. And yet something must have stayed behind, lodged into the membrane of his skull like a shard of glass. For the longest time he’d managed to keep the horrors contained to only haunt him in the dead of night, leaving him sleep deprived and wrung out, every nerve ending scraped thin. But now, even the light of day no longer offers refuge for Stiles to feel safe. Long gone is the once obnoxiously loud, carefree kid—left in its stead is a man carrying himself with caution, treading quietly across the space between other people’s reality and what lies beyond. He knows there are demons out there listening, waiting for an opportunity to exploit any sign of weakness—a door left slightly ajar, perhaps, much like the door to Stiles’ mind they’d never managed to close. The feeling of impending doom crescendos and Stiles, feeling sick to his stomach with fear, clings desperately to the words he repeats to himself like a mantra. "Nothing gets in unless you let it.” But the words turn to ash in his mouth, memories of past experiences proving him a liar. 

an exploration of Teen Wolf's 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈—𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄 who, after leaving Beacon Hills behind, settled down in New York where he's now considered the FBIs golden boy ― crafted for @fakevz. following canon events of the show with additional headcanons. low activity & very crossover friendly. minors dni. this blog operates in english only. est. 2014 ♗ ©

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: loss of innocence ⊹ comedic sidekick ⊹ overcoming demonic possession ⊹ a morally gray world ⊹ undying loyalty ⊹ survivor's guilt ⊹ agent of chaos ⊹ deflecting with humor

✧  𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ✧ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ✧ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒

I think I've loved you since I met you. I just mistook it for curiosity.

Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I felt this unquenchable need to know you. I blamed it on ulterior motives, justified it because I needed something from you, because you held the answers I was looking for, because no one else was able to help but you. Looking back on it now though, I'm starting to think that maybe some part of me knew right from the start, that first night I stumbled upon you in the woods, what took me years to see: Maybe my heart recognized that it was going to love you right away, and I spent the years to come catching up with what it knew right from the start. That it was always going to be you. How could it ever have been anyone else? Through mayhem and bloodshed, through fear and loss, through grief and sleepless nights, you were the one constant that remained. When I lost sight of everything—first myself, then reality, then hope—you were the one guiding my way like a beacon, or a north star. If I've ever known peace, it's in all the moments that your hand has touched mine and that your arms have held me tirelessly, putting your body like a shield between me and every inkling of danger. Of all the late-night wonderings of trying to make sense of the last decade (and failing), what remains is this singular thought: At least it was you. At least it was me. At least it was us, together. I'd bear it all a million times over if it meant I got to hold your hand at the end of it all. You are the moment of quiet at the end of a long day, you are breathless laughter, you're the patch of sunlight filtering in through the window that I stand in to warm myself. You are everything good in this world and living proof that there is hope despite it all, and I love you beyond measure.

[neverchecking]

Hi I love your work and omg I just can't stop reading it

Can I request yandere wild , time, twilight, four x harpy reader

Like they found her hurt but she try to get up but she can't cuz she hurt her wings which is her arms and they help her cuz they rember she help them once before and plus she keeps the cucos clam and not attack anyone

Nsfw breeding

I seen a lot of monsters moys but no monster reader

And can I be 🧜‍♀️ aron please

You absolutely can! I didn't know if you meant poly or not, so I went separate!

You can also be 🧜‍♀️anon! Welcome to the club! I'm happy to have you!

Smut so Minors DNI!

Smut CW: Breeding, Monster fucking, Reader is a harpy! Little bit of baby trapping.

Bird's eye view

・❥・Wild had seen a lot in his time. But nothing quite like you.

・❥・Your gloriously bright feathers are what caught his eye first. You were caught in a hunter's snare when he came upon you, heaving with heavy pants and stained with blood. Whether it was yours or something else, he wasn't sure, which made him weary.

・❥・He did eventually approach you, cutting you down even if you scrambled away from him. He offered food in some sort of universal language, slowly coaxing you close enough he could look at your wounds.

・❥・It takes a shocking amount of apples, and hydromelons and other fruits to get you to trust him enough to bandage them. While his memory was fuzzy, he could remember a being, your same build and same beautiful feathers, hissing and screeching at a Lynel that had tried preying on him just days after he had woken up and was in no shape to fight.

・❥・He was certain you were the one that saved him that day and he was more than happy to finally be able to repay you.

・❥・He keeps you close while you heal, and when you bring up leaving after your healed, he quickly finds ways to shut that down. You two needed to be together. Couldn't you see that?!

・❥・Everyone else in his life had left him or died, and you couldn't! You just couldn't! He probably uses these very reasons to keep you tethered to him. That and the fact that cuccoos are terrified of you and stay away from him.

・❥・What better way to tether you to him than a baby? That would keep you and him tied for life. Did he know whether you and him could actually procreate? No, but he would love to try and find out.

<><><><>

Sweat dripped down from his temple and onto your shoulder as you laid prone beneath him, warbled cried weakly leaving your throat as numerous loads leaked out of your abused hole. You had long since given yourself to him wholly and completely and he was living for it.

He wanted to see you round and full, carrying his child for all the world to see. Grounding you to keep you in his reaches. Right where he wanted you.

Just the thought of you with a child of your own, cooing over it and caring for it was enough to have him groaning, filling you once more all over again. He was sure you had a small swell in your belly at this point, but it wasn't enough. He needed to ensure he got this right the first time, even as his muscles cried out from overstimulation. He needed to make su

re this worked. Needed this to be an all or nothing situation.

Who knows how much longer you would remain by his side? How much longer would you believe his little lies?

He doubted it would be long. But if he could effectively ground you, then you could be by his side forever.

You let out another whine underneath of him.

・❥・Time is such a funny guy with this for one reason alone.

・❥・He had lost someone once because they flew away and left him behind.

・❥・That was when he met you! You had been nesting in a tree while he was mid-mourning over Navi. He was playing a song on the Ocarina, he couldn't even remember which one, and you began singing along calling his attention.

・❥・It was a slow thing, him getting you close enough he could run his fingers through your silky smooth feathers as you sniffed about him. You gave him a new out look on life in the time you spent together.

・❥・He thought that you had been lost to time during his journey, jumping around constantly and such.

・❥・But when he hears the familiar sound of your chirps, crying out for help, he lets himself feel a fragile flicker of hope. When he saw if was you, the flame grew just a bit more. And then you looked at him and smiled, recognition flashing across your features.

・❥・You were so happy when he freed you, feathers fluffing up around your arms as you wrapped your arms around him, chirping and clicking in a language foreign to him.

・❥・You had come back to him. You, perfect and angelic you, had come back to him when Navi had not. He knew you were the one for him. He just knew it.

・❥・That being said, he was not to keen on letting you go a second time.

<><><><>

Your feathers shined in the light of sunrise, letting the limited sunlight cascade through the gaps as your arms reached behind your head. You were such a picture of pure divinity. Like the golden three themselves had come down to bless you with beauty.

He wouldn't be surprised at this point. How he had managed to get you, gloriously free you, to give yourself to him was still a mystery. To him at least

You had come back to him, you had graced him with your presence once more. He had heard the saying, that if you love something, let it go, but you had come back. You and him were meant to be. You were meant to belong to him.

And he'd ensure it stayed that way.

You had come back, he had won. You were his. His to use and please and do with as he pleased. He had earned it. You had come back.

And if he put a baby in you, he'd ensure you stayed.

You wouldn't have the heart to keep him from his child, not that you ever would, but to give you a reminder of him every time you looked at that small child? It made his own heart thump wildly in his chest, matching in tempo to your bounces.

You had come back. You wouldn't leave a second time. He wouldn't let you.

・❥・My notes for this literally state and I quote ' lmao twilight and his abandoment issues screaming into the void rn.' Just to set the scene.

・❥・Just like Time, he has also had someone walk out on him. and he does not intend on letting it happen a second time. No. He let Midna go too easily.

・❥・Ironically enough, he met you when Hryule was clouded with Twilight, your feathers a decaying black as your shrieked angrily at him, diving at him every time his beast form tried entering the sacred grove before it was clear.

・❥・When the twilight was lifted, he tried again, only to find your colors vibrant and electric. You were also much friendlier, landing in front of the entrance as if daring him closer, but not instigating anything.

・❥・When he did step closer you regarded him carefully before turning, dew shimmering on your feathers as you did, leading him into the holy grounds and to the Master Sword.

・❥・You stayed even as he returned to his human form, approaching him swiftly. Your claws pricked his cheek as you tilted his jaw, crooning softly when his lips lifted in a snarl, as if trying to calm him.

・❥・You acted as a sort of guide in the air, warning him of oncoming attacks and the such. While you kept your distance during his battle with Ganon, you closed it just as easily after the Mirror was shattered. You had been there when she left.

��❥・You refused to leave him, even in his deepest pits of grief, crooning at him softly constantly and shrouding him in your gorgeous feathers.

<><><><>

The feeling of your back pressed against his chest was truly euphoric as you heaved and cried out. His hands were clasped tightly around your hips, fingers digging bruises into the soft flesh there. The claws on your feet dug into the floor, scratching the wood as you rclung to the table you were bent over. Your feathers, as gorgeous as they were, were all askew, ruffled and scuffed, some scattered around the floor. Your hair was just as messy, especially as you threw your head back to try and look at him.

He kept his head burrowed in your shoulder, biting and nipping at your skin as his hips smacked rhythmically against your own, keeping a quick and harsh tempo. You had stuck by him. You remained by his side. You chose him. Midna chose her world. Fine. But you chose him. You watched the trials he faced, deemed him worthy and accepted him. You chose him.

So he had to return the favor. Obviously. So he would chose you to carry his young. To breed you over and over again until you had your own litter scrambling around your feet. It was the least he could do for you really.

You had chose him, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you didn't make the wrong choice.

You wouldn't have the time to think if you made the wrong choice or not if all your time was spent caring for his pups, right? All that mattered was that you stayed with him.

He already had one person walk out on it, and he would not let you do it as well.

・❥・If you guys thought I knew little about Majora's mask, oh boy do I have some news for you-

・❥・Being able to turn into a Minish, one of the unseen dangers on his journey were birds.

・❥・Birds that swooped down, trying to eat the little creatures.

・❥・This extended to him.

・❥・A particularly large bird had once gotten it's sights on him, clawed feet reaching for him too fast for him to run away. He thought that was the end for him.

・❥・And then you, in all your glorious vengeance and fearless carelessness, stepped in. The bird was caught mid-swoop. Pinned with your own talons pinning them down.

・❥・You snarled in it's face, snapping your teeth in it's face with a sharp cry before letting it wobble away.

・❥・He thought you would take him for yourself, but you merely crouched down, leaning your chin on the ground and letting him place his little hands on your nose, gently crooning with a puff of feathers.

・❥・You remained his protector throughout his entire journey, his companion when he was back to his Hylian form. It became a joke throughout Hyrule that you would not have one without the other, the two of you never straying far.

・❥・And he'd keep it that way.

<><><><>

Your squawks did little to deter him as your taloned fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the golden strands as he pinned you to one of the random walls in his forge. He felt a bit bad, as he knew the heat wasn't good for your feathers, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he plunged deep into your core over and over again.

You feet clawed against his back as you clung to him, crooning and chirping as your head fell back. He adored you. Everything you did for him. The scars you obtained for his sake. And he would thank you in the best way possible.

He had watched the ways you cooed over the babies in town, using your feathers to call their attention and bring a smile to their face. Their giggles absolutely lit up your entire being making your giddily chirp as your feathers ruffled. He adored seeing it.

What better way to thank you for your service to him than to give you your own baby? A baby the two of you could share? One that was a piece of both you and him and would keep you tethered to him for the rest of your life.

It was the perfect plan really. He could care for his little family through his forge work and you would live happily ever after with the minish watching your little one.

His own perfect ending.

[ghostlychief]

tomorrow will be kinder

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

WC: 1900+

Warnings: brief mention of deaths; hurt/comfort; some fluff

Summary: When overly stressed by the calamity of your job, you find yourself pulling away from your teammates and even sometimes, your closest friends. Luckily for you, they don’t go anywhere, and patiently wait for your return. Although one person in particular, never lets you fester alone.

A/N: Hello!!! Feels like I haven't posted in awhile, so here we are. I hope if you stumble across it, you enjoy <3

-*-*-

You look down at the ground, while smoke billows around you, slightly clouding your vision. All you see are bodies caked in mud, lying motionless on the dirt path and you wonder to yourself how many dead bodies you have seen throughout your career.

How many? You couldn’t even count, there’s no point, not when it’s been this many. Maybe this was the tipping point for you. When the cold bodies that once held lives don’t bother you anymore. You no longer feel sonder creeping through your bones, making sure it covers you completely when you witness death. No, you just carry on like nothing happened. Day after day, your capacity to care and feel anything slowly drained out, and now you’re left empty and dry, wishing for relief from the arid cracks forming within you.

It's like you’re on autopilot, and have been for awhile now. After your last mission, you vaguely remember writing up your section of the report and handing it off to Price. You might have gone back to your quarters and spent the remainder of the day in bed. You cannot recall.

The days since then have gone by slowly, not much action going on. You don’t mind the quiet because sooner or later it’s going to get louder and louder until you’re back where you started: with destruction and death surrounding you, once again tipping you over.

You know you have been acting different. This has happened before, and your teammates understand why. They’re not too pushy about it, even though it seems like they ask you out to drinks or dinner more often than usual. You know they’re just worried and want you to feel included and that you are not on your own for this. You appreciate them, you really do. But they eventually get the hint that you just need some time by yourself, and the invitations stop coming. You don’t mind though, now you can finally rest without any external cacophonous noise. You only have to deal with the noise up in your head.

Going back to your quarters, you shut the blinds and lock your door, finally ready to take a fucking nap. You shut your eyes and sleep overcomes you.

-*-*-

When you finally come to, you realize you’ve woken up due to someone knocking (quite loudly) on your door. You briefly glance at the window, and there is no longer sunshine peeking through, so it must be past dinner time. You look at your watch and see that it’s almost 8p.m. You slept for a few good hours.

You rustle your way out of bed, not really caring what you look like. Unlocking your door, you mentally curse at whoever decided to come wake you, and you swing the door open more aggressively than you meant to.

When you glance up, you notice your teammate, Ghost, standing tall in your door frame, his toned arms crossed over his chest. He, for once, isn’t wearing any kind of mask over his face, which allows your eyes to dance across the scars that cover him. He has one in the hollow of his left cheek, a couple on his temple, and finally, one jagged mark near his upper lip, which has come to be your favorite scar of his. You were with him when he got it, after all.  

You don’t miss the skip in your heartbeat as you admire the man in front of you, having to crane your neck in the slightest to do so.

You manage to say, “What are you doing here?” Your voice sounds a bit rough and groggy since you just woke up. You’re also pretty sure your hair is a mess too, and of course your t-shirt and shorts are ruffled in that “after nap” look. So basically, you are the spitting image of beauty.

“C’mon now, Dumpling. We both know why I’m here.” He once again makes your heart skip a beat, and you mentally curse him for it. Who is he to come here and make you feel these things? You were once annoyed by the nickname he gave you, but now, you mentally blush whenever he calls you that.

You still remember the day he designated the name for you. It was one of the first times he came to your room. He was fascinated by all of the small trinkets you had, looking around your desk and the shelves on your wall. When he came across your dumpling light, he started laughing. It’s one of the few times you’ve heard him laugh at all.

He turns towards you, a small smile on his lips, “Does that actually provide any light for your room? It’s so tiny.”

You restrain the urge to scowl at your new found friend from work, and say, “Actually, he does light up my room quite well. It’s for the ambiance.” Your tone quirked up at when you said ‘ambiance,’ which had Simon laughing again, but this time at you.

“Here, look.” You walk over and turn off most of your lights, only leaving on the string of lights and a couple other small lights. Low and behold, the dumpling light stood out amongst his companions, illuminating the shelf he was sitting on, casting a warm glow on you and Simon.

He looks so soft in the luminosity, looks so different than the rigid man you see in the field every day. You refrain the urge to trace his scars with the pads of your fingertips, so desperately wanting to trace his lips. You really need to snap out of it.

Simon acquiesced raising his hands up, “Alright, alright. I misspoke.”

You bump your shoulder against his, arms crossed, “Damn right. Never insult my dumpling light again. He’s good at his job.”

Simon turns his head towards you, “This dumpling means a lot to you, huh?”

You know he’s just teasing and you shrug, “I guess. I mean I’ve had him for years, and look how cute he is!” Your nose scrunches up as you smiled at the stupid light, and you didn’t even notice how Simon was looking at you. But if you did notice, you would have seen his smile drop to a warm grin, eyes sparking in the tender light of your room, looking at you with endearment.

When you finally turn back to him, he ruffles your hair and asks, “So, what shall we do on our night off, Dumpling?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your voice cracks, “’Dumpling’?”

Simon leaned toward you, dipping his head down to yours so his lips were at your ear, “That’s your new nickname.”

“Oh hell no. Nope, not happening.”

“I don’t know, seems pretty fitting.” You were going to kill him.

Simon starts walking to your door, with you trailing behind him, arguing with him about his new moniker for you. Unfortunately for you, the name sticks.

You bring yourself back to the present and quip back, “To bug me?”

Ghost huffs, and decides to just bulldoze into your room without even asking. Rude. Although, he makes sure not to bump shoulders with you. Also, it’s not like he doesn’t do it often, so you let it slide and close the door behind you. You plop down on the bed beside him, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Your room on the base isn’t spacious by any means, but it does its job while you’re on call.

You managed to get a full-size bed, which is tucked away in the corner of your room, furthest from the door. Pictures, paintings, and drawings cover the corner, making it into a cozy place for you to hide away in. String lights line your left wall, which gives the room a soft warm glow that shines in Simon’s eyes whenever he’s here. You also have little knickknacks scattered around, each one showing your personality bit by bit, almost like a trail to your soul.

You find solace within the four walls of your room, but you can’t solely give credit to it, you have to save some for the quiet, yet brooding man, sitting beside you. Your best friend.

Your shoulder rests against his sturdy one, and you can feel him breathing. You always seem to gravitate towards him, like planets orbiting a star.

The room is still quiet, and you bring your leg up on the bed and fold it, so you are slightly turned towards Simon. You bring up your other leg so it’s resting over the top of his knee. He’s wearing his favorite black joggers, and there’s a stark contrast between your white socks and his dark pants.  

You trace your fingers along his forearm, trailing up and down the length of his arm. Something you don’t even realize you started doing until Simon takes that arm and wraps it around you, pulling you into him.

His voice ruffles your hair as he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrug, and mumble, “I don’t know.” You bury your face into his chest. Once again trying to avoid confronting your problems, and instead wanting to hide away.

“Speak up, Dumpling.” There’s a teasing undertone in his request, and it almost makes you crack a grin. Almost.

He tries again, “It’s just me, you know. You can tell me anything.” His hand rests comfortably on your shoulder and his thumb starts rubbing small circles on your arm.

You let out another sigh, “I’m just tired. And overworked, and I think I need a break.” Simon waits a beat to make sure you’re done talking before he offers his opinion on the matter.

“You know, that’s completely normal for the kind of job we have, Y/N. It’s alright to want to get away from all the violence and sadness we see every day. That’s just the human in you.”

“I just feel so disconnected from everything right now, and don’t know how to fix it.” You bring your hand up to Simon’s resting on your shoulder, and intertwine your fingers with his.

Both your hands are calloused and rough, but his hands have always felt perfect in yours, his large fingers encapsulating yours easily.

“We don’t have to do anything right now to fix it. We can just be, okay?”

You manage to murmur out an “Okay.”

Simon pulls you down with him, so now you’re both laying comfortably on your bed. He momentarily sits up to tug the blanket that rests at the foot of your bed, over the you both, then wraps himself around you. You can hear his steady heartbeat in his chest, and it pulls you down like gravity, anchoring you to stay in the orbit of his warm embrace. You can feel his lips on your temple, and he places a delicate kiss there before saying, “Tomorrow will be better, I’m sure of it.” You lay like that for the remainder of the night in the company of Simon.

Simon, who never fails to assuage you, make you feel lighter and like your old self again. Make you feel human. He seemed so sure of himself that you will overcome this, so you finally believe him, that yes, tomorrow will be kinder.

-*-*-

[wintersoldiersoul]

Hi.

Saw you are taking requests.

I got shingles the weekend close to my birthday, i confuse it with allergy because i am allergic to basically anything and then on my 24th birthday i got that it was actually shingles, doctor told me that my immune system went down and that is why i got it. Before that i was under so much stress because of work that i developed burn out and had to quit my job (literally spent months, weeks of my life visiting the emergency ward because i kept getting sick due to stress and burn out) probably that Triggered the shingles.

Could you write something with Bucky in which the reader suffers similar sh**? I just need comfort from my fave character 😭

If you dont feel comfortable is fine, i understand 😁

KUDOS!

I'm so sorry you went through that! I hope you are much better now. I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible (I texted my friend in med school LOL) but I am definitely not a doctor so if some stuff isn't accurate, just pretend it is.

You threw your hair up into a ponytail to get it out of your face. Hours slumped over at your desk weren't doing any favors. You grabbed the energy drink and chugged it to prevent your eyes from closing. You were almost done with this assignment. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. 

Working full time and being a grad student was taking a toll on you. You spent every day from 9-5 in your office and every night from 6-10 in classes. You crammed homework in anywhere you could, which often meant staying up most of the night. It was approaching 4am, now. 

The office door creaked open and Bucky strolled in, sleep still filling his eyes. “Baby,” he sighed. “Come to bed.” He had woken up and the bed was cold without you beside him. He walked over to you, kissing your forehead.

“Can’t,” you mumbled without looking up from your computer.

“You gotta get some sleep, darlin’.”

You sneezed, still typing away. “I’m fi-” your words were interrupted by another sneeze.

Bucky stood, looking at you with a stern expression. “Well look at that. You’re getting sick.” 

You waved your hand. “No, I’m not. It’s just allergies,” you said, sniffling. “You know this time of year is bad.” The past few months, you had been sick on and off multiple times. A cold, a small fever, you were sick more than you weren’t. 

“Honey, please just get some sleep. You haven’t slept in days.” He was practically begging. He knew how much stress you were under and getting no sleep wasn’t going to help. He was extremely worried about you.

“Just give me 10 more minutes, okay?” You compromised.

“Fine. But I’m sitting right here and setting a timer. The second it goes off, I’m carrying you to bed.”

He did exactly that, throwing you over his shoulder when you didn’t get up immediately at the ring of his phone. Despite the intense amounts of caffeine you had consumed, you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

Bucky woke up before you the next morning, smiling at your sleeping form. Your hair was sprawled over your face and he gently pushed it away to kiss your cheek. But as soon as he moved the strands, he noticed that your cheeks were flushed. He put the back of his flesh hand on your skin. Heat radiated off of your face before he even touched you. You were definitely sick.

He got up, being careful not to wake you. He left the bedroom returning a few minutes later with water, Advil, and a thermometer. You groaned as your alarm rang, sending shooting pains into your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes. You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached, your throat was on fire, and even your skin hurt.

“You’re sick.” Bucky stated, as if he was informing you.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at the pain in every cell of your body. He smiled softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. 

“I got you some water and Advil. Can I take your temperature, doll?”

You nodded and he put the thermometer under your tongue. He looked it, eyes widening. “Shit baby, that’s not good. Your temp is 102.8. How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” you pouted.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised. That’s a really high fever, baby. I think we should go to the doctor.”

You groaned, not wanting to move. You felt so horrible that the thought of having to get up and out of bed was a nightmare. You felt like you couldn’t stay awake, eyes closing no matter how hard you tried to keep them open. “Can’t move,” you whispered, coughing slightly. “My whole body hurts so much. Just wanna sleep.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. In his mind, sickness meant calling a doctor. He had spent so many years worrying about Steve back in the 40s, sitting with him while he got looked at. He still wasn’t used to how things were today. The google search he did on his phone told him that if your fever went above 103, to take you to the hospital. In his opinion, you were close enough that he wanted to rush you there right now, but he could see how exhausted you were.

“Alright, rest for now. But if it gets worse we’re going to the hospital.” You didn’t even hear him as you had already fallen back to sleep.

You woke up in a daze, cold sweat clinging to your body. You were shivering aggressively, shaking the entire bed. “Babe?” Bucky said, noticing you were awake. “You cold?”

You nodded, teeth chattering. He quickly grabbed you another blanket, wrapping you up like a burrito. He wrapped his arms around you, hoping that his body heat would help, too. One of the major perks of dating a super soldier was that the chances of getting him sick were very slim. He held you as close as possible, trying to keep you warm. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, voice dripping with sympathy.

 “Can you take your temperature again for me?” He asked after your shivering had subsided a little bit. You put the thermometer back in your mouth, waiting for the beep. Bucky took it from you, heart stopping as he looked. “I know you don’t wanna move, but we gotta go to the ER. You’re at 103.6. That’s really really bad.”

You groaned. You felt so horrible, his words barely even registered in your mind. He picked you up and carried you to the car, whispering words of encouragement along the way. You closed your eyes again, finding it physically impossible to stay awake. Bucky held your hand the entire car ride before picking you up and carrying you into the ER. He let you sleep as you waited, positioning your head on his shoulder. He constantly watched you to make sure you were still breathing. He didn’t wanna wake you until he absolutely had to.

When you were finally called in, he shook you gently. “Can you walk?” He asked. You weakly nodded and he helped you to your feet letting you lean on his body as you went to the exam room.

The doctor hooked you up to an IV immediately to hydrate your sick body as they examined you.

“How have you been sleeping?” She asked you.

“Um, not great,” you answered, voice sounding raspy. “I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“She hasn’t slept in a week,” Bucky interjected. “She’s been getting sick a lot these past few months since she started grad school.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay that’s very good to know.” She proceeded to ask you a few more questions and then said, “Did you have chicken-pox as a kid?”

You nodded. “Yeah. When I was 5.”

She carefully rolled up your shirt, revealing a rash on your side. “It looks like you have shingles. The stress you’ve been under seems to have weakened your immune system which is why you’ve been getting sick so much. It makes sense that with all of that the virus would come back now.”

Bucky held your hand. He was relieved that you had a diagnosis but of course he was terrified. Back in his time, that would have been a death sentence. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Buck,” you answered. 

“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “We’re gonna keep her here for at least tonight because your fever is so high. But you will be okay.”

Bucky exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” You asked the doctor. You were so exhausted.

“Yes. I’ll let you rest,” she smiled before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry you feel so shitty,” Bucky said, holding your hand. “Will this make you take it easy?”

“I don’t know what I can do to change anything,” you said with tear filled eyes. “Literally the only time I have to get things done is in the middle of the night.”

He looked into your eyes. He wanted to help you so badly that his heart ached. He wanted you to be happy and healthy. “What if you quit your job?” He suggested. “You only took this as a temporary thing anyway. I know you don’t wanna stay there when you’re done with school.”

“I can’t not have a job, Bucky,” you argued.

“Baby,” he looked in your eyes. “Do you have any clue how much the Avengers pay me?” He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t need a job.” You opened your mouth to argue, ready to tell him that you didn’t need his money. “I know you’re your own person and you can make your own money. And one day, with that brain, you will make so much all on your own. But baby, you’re drowning. You’ve been sick more days than not the past few months. Please, let me take care of you. Just for a bit. I’d never tell you what to do and if you really wanna stay, you can. But you’re killing yourself, darling. And I can’t just sit back and watch as it happens. Just think about it. Please.”

You lazily smiled. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But not right now. Right now, I need to sleep.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

[reborrowing]

a strange appearance, part five

this took what, a half a year? but it's here, with some worldbuilding hooks

Stranger Swap Masterpost | ao3 First | Prev | Next

Some regret and some research Word count: ~2800 cws: fear, reference to past abuse, death mention (distant, not specifically anyone the characters know), discussion of human-ish experimentation

Val

Val felt a little better about being in the kitchen now that she knew what they were and not just what they weren’t. They didn’t have to try to look competent and could defend themself by explaining they didn’t know how to cook because they very politely avoided starting fires in her walls. She laughed. And that was good, they figured, because it meant she was feeling better.

She was obviously less comfortable than she had been with Val touching her. When they had carried her into the kitchen, she had sat down and squeezed an arm around their finger to anchor herself. She refused to look down and rambled about her tea collection until they reached the counter, at which point she awkwardly slid off as soon as she could reach, no longer worried about the fresh mess Val had made of the counter a few minutes ago. 

They didn’t comment on it, didn’t want to make her think about how precarious her situation was, not any more than she had to. She was doing better than they had, the first dozen or so times they’d been held. Granted, Val had been a child being snatched up by a stranger, but still—they’d also spent their whole life knowing it was a possibility. If the rest of Phoebe’s life looked anything like her apartment, she had never had to even imagine something that large coming at her. They wished they could give her the space to process things without abandoning her. 

Her tea collection was…probably impressive? There was a good spread, more kinds than Val cared to care about. They’d walked by the display a thousand times and the smell had put them off from investigating. She offered them a few choices and they politely echoed the last thing that she said. None of them sounded more or less appealing than the last. Pretty, but not anything they’d choose to put in their mouth unless they were desperate.

And they were, of course, desperate to please.

Thankfully, it was well within their skill set to throw leaves in a vat—cup—of hot water and wait a few minutes. The leaves stained the water and that was it, much easier than the involved coffee-making process they’d watched the last tenants. They grabbed the carton cap from earlier and scooped out a few drops of tea for Phoebe. She eyed the plastic suspiciously when they held it out.

“You said you’ve been here, taking stuff, right? Is that yours? Did you leave it out earlier?” she asked.

“No? I just…you threw it out. Do you have a better idea for a cup?”

“What would you use? You’ve got my clothes, why not let me use your things?”

“I can’t…it’s not… I can’t get to it like this.”

“But I could, couldn’t I?”

“Not unless you want to do a lot of climbing,” they said. 

They crossed their fingers that that would be enough to discourage her. It was more than enough that she got to know that she had someone living in secret in her shadows, they didn’t want to wake up to a sledgehammer through the drywall when things went back to normal. Or not wake up, as the odds may be. They made themselves hold eye contact just to keep from letting their gaze wander to the space above the cupboards and give away where they lived. She shook her head and got up to retrieve the cap of tea.

They moved their hand to make it easier for her to reach, making her flinch. They felt bad at the relief it made them feel. She understood she was vulnerable. She wasn’t going to hurt herself and maybe, maybe, she would consider not hurting them when she got the chance. 

Phoebe

The tea was mostly a good idea. If nothing else, struggling through her directions had given Val something else to focus on. They did a decent enough job of visually masking their worries, but every time they picked her up to move her, she could feel their blood racing through their skin.

By the time the tea had brewed and Val was carrying her back into the living room, their heart rate was at the slowest yet, at least until she asked for her phone and their tendons tensed beneath her. She flinched again and craned her neck to see if that had pissed them off, or just made them nervous. She was pretty sure it was the latter, but it was a terrible angle to judge someone’s expression from. They nodded, at least.

She clutched her tea as Val lowered her to the coffee table, soaking in the soothing aroma wafting out of the mug in their other hand. The smell of her own was weak—just a few drops that she wasn’t quite sure she actually wanted to drink. It looked…gelatinous under the thin ribbon of steam and hot, herbal Jell-o was not particularly appetizing.

But the smell alone wasn’t enough to calm her own nerves and the quiet only made her mind race. She needed answers. Normally, she wouldn’t bother to care that Val didn’t want to talk, but they’d done such a good job demonstrating why someone so small should be afraid of someone human-sized that she bit her tongue for the time being. She wasn’t too eager to set off another freak-out while they were holding a cup of scalding tea deep enough for her to drown in.

It wasn’t like either of them had any ideas about how to go back to normal to speak of anyway. It seemed the plan was to sit in the apartment and wait. It was going to make her insane.

Val seemed at peace with it, but then, the change wasn’t so terrible for them, was it? 

No matter what they might say, they didn’t lose nearly as much as she did in this bizarre trade, just their secrecy, while she was a prisoner in her own home. Even as they let her down onto the coffee table, it only stranded her. She was completely reliant on this near-stranger who seemed almost as likely to kill her as continue to help her.

“And you’re fine on your own now? Or do you need to—”

“Just go get it. Please,” she said.

She felt all too vulnerable as they rose away to where she could no longer make eye contact. The whole landscape changed once they left, into something alien and empty. Her furniture made up impassible monuments around her, but all but the coffee table was far out of reach. She took a seat on a textbook she’d left out, now a perfect thickness to serve as a bench.

She itched at the idea of sitting here for the next who knows how long and playing card games instead of trying to fix this. She was terrified, and she didn’t know what to do with that. She needed to channel it into doing something.

The light cut out for a second as Val came back into the room and passed by a window. God, she knew they were coming, she knew what they looked like, but it still came as a shock to watch a building-sized person step into view. They knelt down and pushed her phone towards her.

“Please don’t call anyone, just music,” they said.

“I got it. Really. Why would I try to piss you off at this point?”

“I guess you wouldn’t.”

They helped Phoebe prop it up on its side when she realized it was too large for her to move on her own. She suppressed a shudder. It belonged in her pocket, easily forgotten. Now she was using it like it was some screen out of an old sci-fi flick. Here was the whimsy she had insisted on earlier this morning, but now she was too overwhelmed to have fun with it. She just wanted this to end. 

She forced herself to enjoy it anyway, and it did help, certainly more than the tea. Fumbling with the cards was horribly awkward, but it was fun. Impressively, the two were equally terrible at trying to shuffle the rug-sized cards. She slid around the table to set up a game and got maybe a minute and a half into an explanation of the rules before Val’s head slipped off their palm and onto the arm of the couch.

She snorted. She knew rules were boring to listen to, but she had hardly expected her explanation to put them to sleep, even with the tea and chill music. And then her eyes slid over to the phone, still propped up against the glass, right within reach. 

“Val?” she called, just to be sure they were really asleep.

Their ear twitched but they didn’t otherwise stir. Phoebe pushed the rest of the deck to the side and crossed back over to the theater screen that was her phone. The lockscreen clicked. She jumped at the sound, glancing over her shoulder again. Val didn’t move.

She felt a little thrill run through her chest, like a kid getting away with something. Phoebe focussed on that and let the fear of getting caught dissipate. She swiped through a half dozen junk notifications to get to the text from Chelsea. It was, as expected, just a line asking her to check in when she “wakes up for real.”

Her hands hovered over the keyboard for a long while. She couldn’t find the words she wanted. She couldn’t find any words that came close to what she wanted to say. She started to type something, then bashed the delete key to get rid of the nonsense. She frowned as she tried and failed to come up with a way to describe what was going on. The best descriptions she could come up with were so absurd that they weren’t even worth writing out.

It is absurd, she conceded. Maybe not something to send over text. She’d probably need to show them, but that would be so much more likely to wake Val. She could tell them to come over, they had her spare key but…Val was scary. To her, obviously, but they had claws and fangs and she suspected they came with a good deal more fighting instincts than Chelsea possessed. In the end, she shot off a short text that lol of course im fine, sorry! She’d give them a better explanation later.

For now, she’d use the time she had while Val was sleeping to find her answers online.

--

Val jerked back to fully alert as Phoebe muttered something to herself, immediately annoyed that they’d managed to doze off at all. She could’ve mentioned the tea was drugged, not caffeinated like the tea they’d had before. They leaned forward towards where she was perched on the coffee table, pushing aside the pillow that they’d been draped over. They had no idea how long they might have been asleep and before they could try to figure it out, they registered that she was perched in front of her phone.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Val cringed as Phoebe jumped, then softened their voice, “I told you—”

“I know, I know, don’t tell anyone. And I didn’t! I just did some research, and look at this,” Phoebe said. She ran a nervous hand through her hair and stepped away from the phone so they could take a look.

Val squinted at the screen—did people really read text this small? It was, like she said, some kind of academic text, not a phone call. Unlike most borrowers, they had been taught to read, but trying to pry apart the different lines made their head swim. Phoebe slapped her hand across the glass several times, speeding through the tight lines of jargon.

“Not everything on the internet is true,” Val wavered.

“Yeah, I’m a grad student, I have figured that out. And a lot of the easy results were nonsense, but these are from reputable journals. And I keep seeing references back to this one French author, and I have no idea how to get that translated, but there’s a few pictures thrown in with the rest of the figures.”

Val was suddenly lightheaded. If there was real, documented evidence of borrowers just floating around online for any curious human to find, how long until everyone knew? Until people started flushing out colonies or—was that already happening? They’d never heard borrower news from more than a few miles away, they had no idea what might be happening across the country, never mind France. Was it just a matter of time?

“And there are some really good medical diagrams someone sketched up in this vet journal, which are…,” Phoebe said, swiping through her tabs. “Oh, shit. I meant to skip that one, I’m sorry.”

Their thin fur stiffened as the screen flashed. Phoebe hastily swiped onto a different screen, but not so quickly that Val didn’t see it. A photo, black and white, of a body with a clean incision down their middle. Childhood stories about lab rats and cruel experiments flickered through their head. Had they been true after all? This had to be edited.

“G-go back to that,” Val said.

“No, you don’t need to look at that.”

“Is it real?”

Phoebe looked back at them hesitantly. they stiffened as her eyes landed on them, struck again by instinct warning them against any eye contact with a threat. They couldn’t quite read her expression without getting closer, and then she turned back to the phone to scroll to something else.

“Look, there’s other photos too, see?” Phoebe ducked out of the way to show off a brief slideshow of a young man leaning against a cup. Val bit their lip. He didn’t have a tail, but other than that the photos looked real. And lots of borrowers lost their tails, or maybe the man could have been shrunk, like Phoebe. She tapped the screen again. “And here, uh, studies on sprite anatomy. These are the sketches I was talking about.”

“I’m not a sprite?” Val said nervously.

But the diagram looked���well, it sure looked like a borrower skull. Almost human, with more threatening teeth and proportionately larger eye sockets. Phoebe scrolled too fast to pay much attention to the details, though. Were there other sorts of borrowers out there? Or something else altogether?

“So what are you, then? You didn’t really say, so I couldn’t get as specific as I wanted, and honestly none of them looked quite like you. I saw sprite a couple times, and the one about the girl in the photos was saying imp, and one of the others just said diminutive humanoids…”

She looked back at them expectantly and Val bit their lip. What did it matter if she knew that little bit more? She would only be able to use it to find more information if it had already been posted and it might be nice to know if borrowers had already been discovered elsewhere in the world, if the others should know.

“I’m a borrower, but—”

There was a loud crash, either from the storm outside or inside their own head, Val couldn’t tell. It cut them off, either way. Everything went dark, then everything went soft. They were standing on crumpled fleece, tucked into the vast sweater they’d just been wearing. They were back to their own, natural size. 

A loud thud, a heavy groan, and a tremor through the carpet. Val’s heart skipped a beat. Phoebe was back to her usual size too and they were sitting in the middle of her living room.

They had to get away.

The whole morning had been a disaster.

They’d hurt her.

They had to get away.

Val turned towards the light and started running. As they stepped into the light, they were faced with the sheer wall of the back of the couch. It sounded like she had tripped or fallen or something and they had to hope that would give them enough of a head start to get out of reach. They bit their lip and clawed their way to the top, thinking they could jump over and get under a bookshelf before, before, before—Phoebe shouted at them.

“Woah, woah, stop! Hey!”

They chirped in panic as fat white fingers curled around their chest. They scrambled to keep their hold, their freedom, but it was useless. Their claws tore through the threads Val clung to and Phoebe was free to pull them into the air.

They kicked twice then gave up, shivering as they fell into her palm. They'd been through this before. She had them, she’d do whatever she wanted with them and if she could harass a giant for answers, they were terrified of what she might do now that they were toy-sized again.

-

tagging: @da3dm @whumpsday @gt-daboss (not sure if you wanted to be added to everything or not?)

please send an ask, comment, or dm to be added or removed to the taglist! requests in the tags are easy to miss

[liloinkoink]

For lamplight treebark requests, how about some sleepy cuddles from Rens POV? Could be either Rens still a fire and tucks himself into martyn while he sleeps, or hes got his body back and can cuddle him properly?

this is only loosely following this prompt, but it IS something i’ve had in mind for a bit, so. hope it’s still fun!

Ren doesn’t sleep.

He can, but he doesn’t have to. He spent too much time sleeping when Dogwarts fell, spent days to weeks to months dreaming of people and places he would never have again.

It had been comforting then, but these days, it scares him. Nothing unsettles Ren more than the idea of losing himself to sleep.

He isn't locked away in some little basement anymore. Ren no longer has nothing to lose.

So Ren doesn’t sleep—he wouldn’t dare.

—

Ren makes good on this personal oath for some time. It’s easy to stay awake when Ren is incapable of closing his eyes, to keep his energy up when energy is all Ren is.

Having a body is… far more exhausting than Ren remembered.

He tells Martyn as much, and Martyn only laughs at him.

"Sorry, Ren. Not all of us can be balls of inextinguishable fire," Martyn says, "Though hey, I still have the lantern if you want to switch back."

"No, I think I’ll pass," Ren says, and he sighs, closing his eyes. "But I’m beat, dude. Which means we aren’t going anywhere for the rest of the day."

"Shame," Martyn says, but he’s already sitting down, cross-legged at his god’s side. It’s not like they have anywhere to be, after all, and he’s getting used to the breaks his god needs. "I really should have picked up an instrument the last time we were in town. I thought about it, but it totally slipped my mind."

"Oh, right. You said something about that the first day, didn’t you? The Watchers took your lute," Ren says, and Martyn nods.

"Yeah. Sucks, cuz those are great for nights where you don’t plan to do much. I could’ve played something for you," Martyn says, and he leans his elbows onto his knees, propping his face above Ren’s. Martyn casts a shadow over his god’s face, blocking the fading evening sunlight from blinding him.

"I would have liked that," Ren says, "Your singing voice isn’t terrible, either, instrument or no. I’ve been impressed since the first time I heard it."

"The first… oh, that was the first few days, wasn’t it? Right outside of Dogwarts?" Martyn asks. When Ren nods, Martyn scoffs. "Your standards need work, mi’lord, because I was really struggling to even hold a tune."

"It was the first time I’d heard music since my city was lost. Twenty years of solitude and ten years of silence, and then you carried me out and sang for me," Ren says, "I liked it."

"If I’d known it was your first song in two decades, I might’ve tried harder," Martyn says.

Ren cracks one eye open, frowning.

"Only ‘might’ve?’"

"I was pretty tired, man. I’ll make no promises."

Ren snickers, closing his eye again. He really is tired, as much as he hates to admit it—If he's not careful, he's going to fall asleep. He'll take another moment, and then he swears he'll get up. "I’m starting to see what you meant about being an awful paladin."

"Hey! At least I was up front about it. You’re the idiot who accepted my oath," Martyn says, "Twice, even! You had two whole chances to get rid of me and you didn’t."

Ren laughs, and with that he opens his eyes, pushing up onto his elbows. Martyn leans back to avoid being head-butted, though he doesn’t move terribly far.

"What’s up? Hear something?" Martyn asks. Ren leans his head back to meet Martyn’s eyes—he could sit the rest of the way up and turn around, but he doesn’t quite have it in him to give up on lying down yet. Martyn’s watching him with open amusement, making barely any effort to stop himself from laughing at his god’s strange posture. "What are you doing?"

"I’m just getting up so I can take watch," Ren says, "You should get some rest, dude. We’ve been walking basically all day."

"I’m used to walking for much longer, so I’m fine," Martyn says, "Besides, you seem to need the rest a lot more than I do."

"Gods don’t actually need to sleep, you know."

"Sure, sure. And that’s why you never sleep, right?" Martyn asks, and Ren’s stomach drops.

"…What?"

"Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You haven’t slept since you got your body back," Martyn folds his arms, leaning back. "You’re not exactly subtle. It’s one thing to take watch all night basically every time we sleep outside—I can accept that as a safety thing. But you don’t sleep at inns, either. You always go buy some book every time we get to a new town. You’ll sit up and claim you’re just going to read a bit before bed, and then when I wake up the next morning and you’re still reading it, a candle burnt to a stump on the nightstand beside you."

"I— Okay. So I haven’t been sleeping," Ren admits, folding immediately under scrutiny, "But I don’t need to."

"You clearly do, though. God or not, you’re tired," Martyn shrugs, "Or, no. Even if you don’t need to, you’re tired. Sleeping will be good for you."

"I don’t need to sleep," Ren insists, ignoring him entirely. He rolls over onto his stomach, pushing up to sit across from Martyn. "You do, though. I’m not— I won’t sleep all night and leave you to stay awake the whole time. You’ll just be exhausted instead."

"I never said it would be all night. I used to sleep in shifts all the time when I was with my party," Martyn says, "Sleeping the whole night away when you travel is a luxury, not the norm. I’m fine to sleep for only half the night."

"But—"

"No offense, mi’lord, but if you’re too tired to walk, then you’re too tired to fight," Martyn says, "Just take a nap, Ren."

Ren frowns. If he’s honest, he doesn’t want to sleep. Even thinking about it has Ren's stomach turning.

The last time Ren slept consistently, he was sleeping far more than he was awake. For every minute Ren was conscious, there was a week where Ren wasn't. When he'd first heard Martyn speak of the fall of Dogwarts, Ren had been shocked to learn his city had fallen twenty years ago—the amount of time he'd slept had made it feel so much more recent.

Honestly, Ren doesn't even know how to begin to process how many years he lost to the cold comfort of oblivion.

How much more time can Ren stand to lose?

On some level, Ren knows it's because there had been nothing else to do, locked in that basement or left to sit in the street, rotting in his own grief. If he hadn't been sleeping that time off—if Ren had been conscious, cognizant of all ten million minutes—he would surely have lost his mind.

Still, though, fear is a persistent thing, so very good at keeping any exhausted heart racing through all hours of the night. What if that's not all it was? Gods live for centuries, or they're supposed to. Ren's a hundred-something years old already—What if spending so long as a god messed with his ability to sleep?

It's irrational. Some part of Ren is aware of it, sure, but it's not what scares him the most about sleeping.

"What's actually going on?" Martyn asks, "You wouldn't be so against this if it wasn't for a good reason."

Ren's shoulders sag. He looks down, fingers curling into the grass.

No, it's not the sleeping he's afraid of. What he's afraid of is how much can happen in a month, in a week, in even a single evening.

How long would he sleep for? What if he didn't wake up? Would Martyn be willing to wait for him?

What if something happened to Martyn? What if Martyn got tired of waiting for him to wake and left?

What would Ren do if he woke up alone?

Ren can't lose this. He won't, not if he can help it. There is no universe where Ren risks this for something as stupid and selfish as sleep.

"What if," Ren asks, "I don't wake up?"

"...What?"

"What if I don't wake up?" Ren repeats, looking up. "I used to sleep for— time was hard, especially in that basement, but I think sometimes I'd sleep for months. What if I go to sleep and I can't wake up again?"

"Woah, hey! Ren, it's fine," Martyn raises his hands, leaning a bit forward. Ren stops, expectant, "What are you, a bear? Since when do dogs hibernate?"

"Very funny," Ren mutters. His mouth pulls at a smile, but he's too worried to find much humor in Martyn's jokes. This has never stopped Martyn from making them, and it doesn't keep him from continuing.

"So what if you sleep a few months? I'll find us an inn or something—if you're hibernating, maybe I should find us a cave?—and then—"

"No! No, that's— I'm not sleeping that long. I'm not sleeping."

Ren glares at Martyn, daring him to argue. It's not often Ren pulls rank, but he considers it now, however briefly, just to get Martyn to drop it. He only holds up his hands, leaning back.

"Alright, alright," Martyn says, and his hands fall into his lap.

For a moment, neither of them do anything. Martyn watches the space to the left of Ren's head, and Ren knows that look enough to realize the gears are turning in Martyn's head.

"Hey, could you come here a moment?"

Ren blinks, but he obliges, crawling over to sit just in front of Martyn.

"I can't make you sleep," Martyn says, "but as your paladin, it's my duty to take care of you."

"I distinctly remember you pointedly avoiding saying anything of that sort in your oath," Ren says, without any real bite. Martyn ignores him.

"Can you hand me the bedroll?" Martyn asks, pointing to his pack a bit away. When Ren retrieves it, Martyn lies it out in front of himself. He pats the bedding in front of him, "Sit here? Back to me."

Ren does as he's asked. He glances back over his shoulder, but whatever Martyn's trying to trick him into, he isn't giving up on it yet.

"Humor me a moment?" Martyn asks.

"I'm already humoring you," Ren says, which isn't a no. Martyn laughs under his breath.

"Of course, mi'lord," Martyn agrees, "Lean back?"

Again, Ren does as he's asked. Once he's far enough back, Martyn's hands catch him, guiding him to lie down on his back, his head in Martyn's lap.

"Comfortable?" Martyn asks, and Ren is very aware of every inch of his body which touches Martyn. He always is, now that he can feel it—twenty years numb have made every touch extraordinary, and the the novelty is far from wearing off. All Ren can do is notice every shift of Martyn's legs below his head, or where his shoulders brush against Martyn's shins. Martyn's hands settle on either side of his face, thumbs resting below Ren's eyes. His hands are cold—compared to Ren, they always are—but Ren has come to find even that comforting, especially as Martyn rubs little circles into his cheeks.

"Yeah," Ren admits, and Martyn grins.

"I'm not asking you to sleep," Martyn reiterates, "But rest for a while, at least. You can't run on empty forever. If nothing else, relax for a bit so I know you won't, like, pass out in the street or a battle or something."

That makes Ren laugh, especially as Martyn continues, "I'm serious, Ren, if you pass out in the middle of some monster fight because you decided not to rest for several months, I am not helping you. I'm just going to let that monster's eat you and you'll have to sort out how to deal with that yourself."

"Okay, okay, I hear you," Ren says. Martyn nods, opening his mouth to say something smug, probably, and Ren holds up one finger. "I have one condition, though."

"What's the condition?"

"You have to promise to wake me if I fall asleep," Ren says, "Not tomorrow morning, either—wake me up for watch later tonight. You need to sleep, too."

"Are you kidding me? Obviously I'll wake you. There's no way I am staying up all night. With a face like mine, I need all the beauty sleep I can get," Martyn says, smiling a bit wider as Ren laughs. "You're not sleeping a moment past the end of my watch, dude."

"You swear you'll wake me?"

"At any cost," Martyn agrees, "The last time Tim tried to oversleep, me and Grian nearly threw him into a pond. No way you sleep for months as long as I'm here."

"I'm starting to see a theme with you," Ren says.

"What can I say? It's worked out for me so far," Martyn says, and then he moves one hand off Ren's cheek, covering his eyes. "No more stalling. You're only sleeping half the night, and you've been awake for far too long. Get some rest, Ren."

Ren allows his eyes to shut under Martyn's touch, aware of even the brush of his lashes against the inside of Martyn's palm and the underside of Martyn's fingers. He reaches up, latching onto Martyn's wrist with one hand.

"What will you do if I keep sleeping?" Ren asks, "Even after you've, like, dropped me in another river."

"What do you mean?"

"If I sleep for the next few weeks. If I sleep for a year," Ren ventures, keeping Martyn's hand over his eyes, "What will you do? Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"Depends," Martyn says, "Do you think your back will recover if you sleep on the ground for a year, or should I move you to a bed? Because I don't really want to sit in the dirt for a year, if I'm honest."

Ren laughs, "I should probably move to a bed, huh?"

"Then no, I won't be here. I'll move you somewhere that won't kill your back, and we'll stay there for a year," Martyn says, "Does that sound alright to you?"

"I can agree to that."

[trumpkinhotboy]

After, and everything that comes with it

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x f!reader/katniss

Type: Not requested

Warnings: None. Mentions of war, loss, grief, and marriage (lol? but no religion talk!)

Requests are open for twilight, narnia and heartstopper

A/n: It's written in 2nd person pov so you may see it from Katniss' or as if you were in her place.

this little fic might be one of my favorite thing ive ever written and i hope you will love it too xx

(I suggest reading it with a novo amor playlist in the background)

“summary” : i have never written anything about the Hunger Games but i've been thinking about this little scenario, after the war has ended, and our victors can finally breathe and heal.

The war has been over for a few months now. Over is the pain, the betrayals, and the atrocities committed by both the Capitol and the rebels. Now, in their wake only lies the remnants of wounds they inflicted. Some days are heavier. Sometimes, you can barely breathe from the grief's steel grip on your organs. On other days, the pain feels like a distant pinch in your heart, and breathing is effortless. You feel almost totally secure. 

Some part of you may never be able to let go of the debilitating fear of being thrown into an arena again, but with each passing day, you can make it disappear a little more.

The first months felt agonizingly long. Still, winter was over in a sigh of the cold wind. Soon, the sun, the leaves on trees, and the wildflowers bloomed again. To be alone and to be your true self without worrying about putting up an act was a liberation. Nonetheless, it also meant you were to carry the enormity of your grief all on your own.

That is until he came back.

You will always recall that day. You had just gotten back from a walk in the woods. You carried in your basket a few plants and berries you had picked up along the way. With your gaze on the ground, your thoughts waltzed around without any real center point. Until you saw him, he was walking outside his house, about to head back in. You didn't notice letting go of your basket. The sound it made as it crashed on the ground was barely registered, but he heard it. He turned around, his gaze searching for the source of the mysterious sound. You recognized the tense stance of his feet and shoulders. You saw it about a billion times. You would have had the same reaction in his situation. Soon, his eyes found you. Just like that, his body relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and a new expression appeared on his soft features.

"Peeta." 

You sprinted for him, and all the air exited your lungs as you made contact with his body. He caught you as he always did with his strong arms wrapped around you, his hand going up in your hair as he whispered sweet nothings. From that day on, you were no longer alone.

You started having dinner together and went on walks. Peeta taught you how to plant a garden and make the best bread. You taught him how to recognize the good berries and plants in the forest and how to hunt. All things you never had the leisure to do because of the constant fear you lived in. It destroyed any other thought than eating, sleeping, working, and staying alive.

You had known each other in survival. You knew each other as fighters, victors, and players in a game that was so much larger than both of you. You now had the opportunity to know each other simply as you were. 

With each passing moment spent together, it got harder to deny what had already been there. Stolen glances, warmth spreading in your fingers any time your hands touched. Butterflies in your stomach whenever he brought you flowers. You weren't fighting for your life anymore. You had space in your mind and body to fall in love, and you did oh so helplessly and effortlessly.

On one starry night, you shared your first kiss. You were so nervous, but once your lips touched, it all vanished, and you wondered why you had waited so long. Quickly, you decided to move away from your victor's houses. Start again together, farther in the meadow where no nightmares had ever taken shape. 

That's where you awoke a year later. In a cozy little cottage you both built from your beaten hands. Your limbs caught in a tangle of fluffy blankets. The sun shone through your window, illuminating the room with honey-colored sunshine. You lazily patted around in your bed, searching for another warm body. Only to be met with cold emptiness. With a grunt, you turned on your side to face his. Your nose tickled with the touch of a few petals from a little bouquet of wildflowers gathered with a piece of string. A little note accompanied the gift.

'Meet me downstairs whenever you're ready sleepy girl x'

You couldn't hold the tilt of your lips as a smile spread on your face. You quickly got up, put on your nightgown, and headed downstairs with your little bouquet.

You immediately noticed the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread and took a second to appreciate the smell. Once you opened your eyes again, you eyed the table set with your best plates. Which really were old ones from the victors' houses, Peeta and you had handpainted. Another bouquet graced the table, and a pot of coffee was lazily fuming in the morning sun. You heard a few noises from outside and quietly headed for the back door. It was left open, its view set on Peeta's baking oven. He was oblivious to the world around him as he retrieved the current batch from the hot embers. He turned around, still focused on his precious bundles. When he finally noticed you, you were resting on the door with your arms crossed on your chest, a look not very far from adoration on your face.

"Good morning," you said as he flashed you a grin.

"Good morning," he answered with his deep voice.

He walked to you with both loaves of bread wrapped in a cloth. When he was within distance, you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"And how are you this morning, my favorite baker?" you quietly asked before kissing his lips. What started as a soft kiss was deepened by the frenzy Peeta Mellark seemed to trigger in you even after all this time. You couldn't help it. Anytime you kissed him, you only wanted more. The innocent peck evolved into a kiss that made shivers dance on your skin, and butterflies swarm your belly. Once you separated, he finally answered, a little out of breath, "Definitely much better now."

You stared into each other's eyes and shared another little kiss before he guided you back inside. His hand was warm in yours as you squeezed it lightly. Once sitting down, you immediately filled your cup of coffee and took a big sip of the warm liquid. You uhmed in appreciation while Peeta uncovered both pieces of bread. The smell got richer. Amazingly, you noticed aromas you hadn't smelled in years.

"You made chocolate bread?" Your eyes went up a size as pure surprise illuminated your face.

"I might have," he added with a grin. "Isn't this your favorite?" Pride shone on the young man's face. Peeta Mellark was nothing if not a man who loved to spoil you with gifts. He was incredibly observant and reeled in finding out all the little things you adored to later give them to you.

"In what honor? That must have cost a fortune!" you still stared at him in disbelief. Cacao and chocolate were still rare products to get your hands on, even a year after the war had ended. 

"This is a good occasion, I promise. Do you want to taste it?"

You nodded eagerly and couldn't contain a moan of appreciation from leaving your lips as he hand-fed you a piece of the delicious bread. Peeta certainly was a master at what he was doing. 

"This is delicious. You know I am eternally grateful that you baked this. I don't quite know how you remembered this is my favorite thing in the world, but I really can't help but wonder why you decided to make this?"

He squeezed your hand and let out a shaky breath. Gone was the boyish grin on his lips. 

"This past year has been great for me, for us. I am so happy with what we built together. My only wish is to keep this going." 

You nodded with a small smile, still unsure of where he was getting at. "Through the games, you asked me to 'stay with you'. Until the end, that was the only thing that kept me going through everything we had to endure. I have no family anymore. You are my family now." The games and the war had taken everything from both of you. You suffered unbearable losses. Even if Peeta hadn't been very close to his family, you knew what it had taken from him to lose them. You cuddled his cheek with the palm of your hands. He instinctively leaned into the touch and took a breath before continuing. "I've always answered 'always', and this is a promise I intend to keep for the rest of my life."

He moved down from his chair to get on his knees, a pair of golden bands laid in the bottom of his palm. 

"Peeta," you gasped.

"I know this is not much, this breakfast, the chocolate bread, this little cottage of ours. I know we don't have anyone to celebrate with us, but it doesn't matter to me. I want you to be my wife. I want to symbolize our promise and union with these rings. We've been through hell and back. I never thought I could have this life with you. Now that we do, I want to do anything to be as close to you as possible. These rings symbolize our love for each other. It symbolizes how we protect each other and will continue to do so forever. So if you accept it, I would love to give you this ring and be able to call you my wife. My partner. My other half."

Tears rolled down your cheeks. In the last few years, you have been solely living in survival. You were only trying to make it to the next day, trying to make money to buy food and clothes and take care of the ones you loved. Then, it had been the games and the war. Never once could you have imagined being in such a secure and safe place in your life that you could even consider being with someone, even more, marrying them. But this, this life you had been slowly building with Peeta, this haven you were creating, finally allowed you to entertain such things. 

You looked at the man kneeling before you. This man with the purest heart. This man who had stayed kind and generous through it all. This man who felt like sunshine, homecooked meals, and wildflowers was all you would ever need. 

You joined him on the ground, softly wrapping his shaking hands in yours. 

"Will you be my wife? Will you stay with me?" he whispered. 

Tears hung on to the line of his beautiful blond lashes. He was once more offering you everything he was and would ever be. Even after this year spent together and all the previous ones spent protecting each other and clumsily hiding your feelings, he looked so unsure, so vulnerable. Still, his eyes carried so many emotions and love. All for you to cherish and protect for the rest of your life. 

"Always."

[starsreminisce]

So I was on tick tock look it through some elucion and I came across a comment that perfectly describes what I think Elaine must be going through and why she's pushing Lucian away "When I met my now husband I disliked any gifts he got me, (b/c he knew me better than I wanted to admit) and it drove me crazy b/c he saw me for who I was. And it wasn’t as I started healing from My abusive relationship was when I could see how he knew me and saw the depths of my soul."I just read that and I can't help thinking how this must be what Elaine is thinking right now why she is rejecting it and being so cold because he's linked to her past trauma and because of that she doesn't want to see how well Lucian already sees her and because he is linked to her trauma

I love the story too, and I definitely agree that there's something about what Lucien represents that makes Elain hesitant.

I don't think it's so much about her trauma because ACOSF shows that she's moved past enough of what happened to her that Nesta resents her for it. One of their big fights was over Elain accepting that they couldn't save their father while Nesta felt like she should have done more.

Personally, having a mate might make Elain feel like how Lucien feels for her is conditional. She might think Lucien wouldn't be interested in her if not for the mating bond and vice versa. This could make Elain feel like Lucien’s interest is not genuine, but simply a product of the bond.

I also think this feels like an arranged marriage for Elain, where she doesn't have a say because it happened so fast. Considering how eager her mother was to marry her off, Elain might see the mating bond as another instance of her not having control over her own life.

Elain seems to be a romantic who loves being courted and cherishes the idea of grand, sweeping love conquering everything. Lucien being her mate could have ruined that for her because she might feel he is entitled to her simply because of the bond.

However, we don't have Elain's point of view. Feyre wanted her mate to be Tamlin and was angry and hurt when Rhys kept their mating bond a secret. Nesta felt like the bond meant she was officially and totally no longer human.

I have a feeling that SJM will carry the same thread that it’s the mating bond that’s the issue, and regardless of who was on the receiving end, Elain would have treated them the same way she's treating Lucien right now.

I guess I have a hard time understanding why Elain knowing about her mating bond at the start of her story suddenly changes things. Feyre and Nesta found out about theirs before they accepted it, after they ran away and spent time mulling over whether the person they were falling in love with being their mate was a bad thing.

Thank you for asking! Hopefully their book will show what was Elain's issues about her mating bond!

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 22

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

The girls returned to camp to find the tieflings ready to head off having packed everything away. The boys had got back before them, and Saff was glad to see Gale finally awake. 

“Morning,” she said as she walked up to him, giving him a smile. 

“Morning,” he replied, returning the smile. 

“Can’t believe I was actually up before you today.” 

“Ah, yes, well I confess I was nursing a worse hangover than I thought humanly possible,” he said with a laugh. “I assume you weren’t cursed with such an affliction, then?” 

“Luckily not. Not as bad as you, at least.” 

“I’m glad. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone… especially not you.” It was a bit of a cheesy line, but it made her smile. 

“I hope you’re feeling a bit better now.” 

“I am, thank you,” he said with a nod. “And, um… ahem… I wanted to talk about last night. I… wanted to say that, even though the alcohol may have addled my body… it didn’t addle my mind.” He looked at her seriously, sincerity in his words. “I meant what I said. Every word. And I would still like to talk to you more tonight… if you’re interested?” 

A wide smile spread across her lips. 

“Of course,” she said happily, hoping she didn’t come across as too eager. 

“Wonderful. I look forward to it.” 

That wasn’t quite true. In fact… he was rather dreading it. He feared how she would react to finding out the truth of it all, of what he did… telling her he was an utter failure with a time bomb in his chest, that couldn’t even kiss her, who’d messed up so badly even a god was angry at him, wasn’t exactly going to paint him in the best light… but he couldn’t keep it from her any longer. He’d already hidden it for too long. 

After the tieflings left it was decided it was finally time to move the camp and head north towards the mountain pass. Halsin stayed with them to help, and eventually they had everything ready to go. 

Gale was taking a moment to look round the area and take it in one last time before they left when Saff walked up to him while they waited for the others to finish their last minute preparations. 

“Hard to believe we’re finally leaving…” he said wistfully, looking round at what had been their home for the last few days. 

“Yeah…” she agreed, looking round too. “I’m going to miss it.” 

“I hope we get just as lucky with the next place.”

Soon they were off. Saff took one last look back at the camp, thinking of all they’d done here - the nights spent around the campfire with her friends, the lessons spent with Gale down by the river’s edge… she hoped, maybe, one day they’d return here once this whole ordeal was over. 

The walk was even longer than normal with the heavy bags of camp supplies weighing them down. As they passed the grove Halsin stayed behind to wrap up a few last things, saying he would meet them at the mountain pass. After all, a walk that would take them several days would take him mere hours as an eagle. They arranged a day to meet and he headed into the grove while they continued on. They were all rather disappointed to have him leave the party, partly because they liked his company, and partly because he’d been able to carry so much of their equipment. 

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the spot they’d agreed to stop for lunch - the blighted village. They’d cleared it of goblins before so they knew it would be safe and provide plenty of shelter should they need it. Plus, Astarion was quick to point out, they didn’t stay long there before and there was probably plenty of loot to be had.

Saff followed hesitantly into one of the houses, feeling a bit unsure about looting the belongings of the goblins’ victims. Astarion had absolutely no problem with it of course, and was soon devling down into basements with Shadowheart and Lae’zel.

Saff did eventually find something she thought was worth taking - alchemy equipment. She gathered all the tools and ingredients she could find and was soon set up next to Gale where he cooked lunch for the group, brewing any potions she could out of the ingredients available to her. 

“Karlach will like this one,” she commented to Gale as she watched her concoction boil. “It’ll be a potion of hill giant strength - if I got it right. She’ll be able to arm wrestle an owlbear with this in her!” 

“Don’t suppose she’d be willing to give me a sip first while we cart this camp equipment around? My back is killing me,” he half-joked. 

“That’s not a bad idea…” she mused with a chuckle, very much feeling the effects of carrying such a heavy bag around herself as well. 

Soon they gathered for lunch, with Astarion and the others being the last to return. Their looting seemed to have been successful, given the grin on Astarion’s face. 

“Good hunt?” Wyll asked as the group sat down to eat.

“Fantastic. Who’d have thought such an innocuous little village would be hiding such treasures?” Astarion said happily. “Say, I don’t suppose any of you came across a gemstone, did you? Round, about this big? Probably an amethyst?” he asked, holding his hands out to show what would be a pretty sizable gemstone. 

“No…” Gale said, narrowing his eyes slightly suspiciously. “Why do you ask?” 

“Oh, no reason. But do let me know if anyone comes across anything like that.” 

They decided it was best not to question it. 

They chatted together as Gale began to serve up lunch, til Astarion’s ears pricked. 

“Shhh,” he hushed quickly, holding out his hand for them to stop talking as they looked at him. He paused a moment, listening. “Someone’s here…” 

He grabbed his bow and began silently moving towards the noise. The others slowly, carefully, readied their weapons, staying as quiet as possible as they hid amongst the ruins. They let Astarion take the lead, watching as he silently stalked across the village square they’d been having lunch in and pressed himself up against the wall of a building. They could hear the footsteps now, crunching along the broken stone of the pathway, growing ever louder til they reached the corner…

A figure stepped out. Masculine, dressed in embroidered black and red robes, his face obscured by the shadow of a hood. 

“Who goes there?” Astarion demanded, drawing his bow and pointing the arrow to the man’s face. He was so nonplussed when Astarion spoke that one might even think he’d known Astarion was there, and while he clearly wasn’t threatened, he did at least do Astarion the respect of stopping. 

“You don’t want to do that,” he said calmly. “It won’t go well for you.” 

It was only when she heard his voice did she recognise him. 

“Malitas!” 

Saff ran out from cover, smiling as she headed towards them. Astarion looked at her in surprise, then back to the man, who was now smiling too as he lowered his hood to reveal long, dark hair tucked behind the familiar pointed ears of a fellow high elf. His head was adorned with an intricate silver circlet bejewelled with jade and obsidian, and his golden skin was starting to show the first wrinkles of old age. 

“Saffron! My dear, I’ve been so worried about you,” he said as he hurried towards her. The others began to emerge from their hiding places, though he paid them no mind as he looked over Saff. 

“You know him?” Astarion asked, lowering his bow. 

“Yes. He’s my master. Everyone, this is Malitas,” she said, turning to the rest of the group. She glanced at Gale, who was looking at Malitas slightly sceptically. Malitas looked over at the others, eyeing each of them for a moment, until Astarion spoke and pulled his attention back.

“And to think, I was about to put an arrow through your head. My apologies,” he said with a chuckle as he put his bow away.

“Oh, no harm done. I would have disintegrated you first,” Malitas replied casually, somewhat to Astarion’s annoyance, before turning to Saff with a much more concerned look. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said with a nod. “What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? My apprentice goes missing and you expect me to just do nothing? Of course not. I set out immediately to find you. A few divination rituals set me in the right direction, though it certainly hasn’t been an easy search. But enough about that, we have far more pressing matters. Tell me - are my fears true? Was it the Nautiloid that took you?” 

She sighed slightly and nodded. 

“Gods… and have they infected you?” he asked. Another nod. “Mystra save us…” he whispered, looking away in despair.

“But it’s ok!” Saff said quickly, to his surprise. “We’re going to get it cured. We’re on our way to a githyanki creche. They can cure us!” She glanced over at Lae’zel as she mentioned the creche, before turning back at Malitas, who was looking over the group.

“You’re all infected?” he asked. Lae’zel was the one to answer.

“We are. Your apprentice speaks truly - we will be rid of these parasites soon enough,” she said, confident as ever. Malitas looked curious.

“A githyanki… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of your kind. Where is this creche of yours?” 

“In the mountain pass,” she answered, which seemed to worry him. 

“The mountain pass?? That’s days from here. Ceremorphosis doesn’t take that long. You’ll be long turned before you reach there. In fact… are you sure you’re infected? You’re all looking surprisingly… healthy,” he said sceptically. 

“Yeah, that’s… the thing,” Saff started, a bit awkwardly. “We don’t have any symptoms. We all had this dream, a visitor came and said they were protecting us and stopping us transforming. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but… something seems to be protecting us.” 

Malitas was quiet for a long moment, his brow furrowing. 

“Fascinating… I’ve never heard of anything like this…” he murmured, scratching his chin, before quickly shaking his head. “But we can’t rely on that. Saffron, listen to me,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “I believe I may be able to cure you, but we need to get back to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible.”

“You can cure us??” she gasped excitedly, though he didn’t match her excitement. 

“I can cure… you,” he said after a moment. “It is not an easy spell and I only have the materials to do it once. I cannot help your friends. I’m sorry.” 

There was a long moment of silence… until she stepped back away from him. 

“Then… you can go back to Baldur’s Gate, and I’ll see you when I get there,” she decided. “I’m not leaving them.” She didn’t see, but there was a look of surprise from some members of the group, to see her so loyal to them.

“What? Saffron, no, don’t throw your life away for people you’ve only known for a few days!” he argued, but she wasn’t having it. 

“They’re my friends, I’m staying with them,” she said firmly, folding her arms. 

“Mmph…” 

He pressed his fingers to his brow and shook his head, then turned to the others, as if to assess them. As he looked at each of them, his curiosity grew. 

“My my Saffron, you do keep some interesting company, don’t you?” he said, looking at them in turn. “A githyanki from the astral plane. A vampire that can walk in sunlight. A cleric of Shar, of all gods! A tiefling with an infernal engine for a heart. The Blade of Frontiers himself! With an unexpected new look. And…” 

He trailed off a bit as he came to Gale. For a moment the two looked at each other, til Gale’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re looking into our minds…” he growled accusingly, clenching his fists slightly. Suddenly it became clear how he knew so much about the others, and they were none too pleased with the intrusion. 

“That I am. Saffron is my apprentice, I will do what is necessary to protect her. And you were the only one who not only noticed, but was even able to stop me. I have met very few people that can do that. Which only confirms my suspicions of who you are - Gale Dekarios, the prodigy of Waterdeep! It is such an honour,” he said, taking a deep bow. Though there was something ever so slightly… off about his manner of speech. 

“Wait, you know each other??” Saff gasped in surprise, but Malitas shook his head. 

“Not personally. But I know of him. Of course I do, any self-respecting wizard would…” he looked over at her. “You don’t recognise him?” he asked. She shook her head, rather embarrassed. “I clearly need to keep you more up to date with wizarding news then, because his name was all over it about a year ago. Gale of Waterdeep, prodigy, archmage… Chosen of Mystra,” he said, though the tone of his voice showed that he was certainly not as impressed by those things as one might expect him to be.

Gale bristled, realising how much Malitas knew about him… and realising now how much Saff was about to find out. 

“You… are one of Mystra’s Chosen?!” she gasped, turning to Gale with wide eyes. Not only her, but the rest of the group too now turned to him in surprise. He felt their eyes on him, burning into him… but how did he tell them the truth, that he was no longer her Chosen because of his own folly? 

“Her Chosen, and more… if the rumours are to be believed,” Malitas continued, a slight smirk creeping onto his lips. 

“What- what do you mean?” Saff asked quickly, turning to Malitas, who kept his eyes on Gale. 

“The rumours are true, aren’t they Gale?” he said, watching Gale for a moment. “Mystra’s Chosen… and her lover.” 

As she looked back at him, Gale couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. They heard Astarion stifle an impressed, disbelieving laugh. 

“Of course, that all changed a year ago, didn’t it?” Malitas continued, then turned his speech to Saff. “They say he was cast out by Mystra and locked himself in his tower, never to emerge. No one could reach him, no one knew what happened. Plenty of speculation, but no answers. I suppose the Nautiloid plucked you from your solitary confinement, did it Gale?” he asked, but received no answer. He chuckled, and turned back to Saff. “A true mystery indeed. What do you think he could possibly have done to invoke such anger from our kind and forgiving goddess?”  Saff stared at Gale with wide eyes, and still he couldn’t bring himself to look at her from the shame. Saff could hardly believe it… she wouldn’t have believed it if Gale had not effectively confirmed the truth of it himself.

“Doesn’t look like we’re going to get answers today. Pity,” Malitas said, then finally turned away from Gale to Saff. “Come, Saffron. We have to go.” 

At first she could barely react, her mind still reeling from the revelations. To find out he’d been keeping something so big from her… part of her believed that he had no obligation to tell her, but she thought they were closer than that. Her own words to Lae’zel came back to her. You realise they’re not like that at all, and that you’ve not actually fallen for them. You’ve fallen for this idea you had of them that isn’t actually real. Was that the case with Gale? How much more had he not told her about? And then there was the question of what he did that could have been so bad for Mystra to cast him out…

Nonetheless, she stepped back again. 

“N-no. I’m staying,” she said, sounding less confident than before, but still determined. 

“Gods help me…” Malitas murmured, shaking his head. “Saffron, a word? In private?” 

She glanced back to the others, to Gale in particular… but he wasn’t looking at her. He couldn’t bring himself to. Trying to ignore the pang of sadness she felt, she turned and headed off with Malitas.

[kallie-den]

A Commanding Weakness Ch. 4

Peggy Morgan, the Inyx's dorky science officer, starts confusing fact and fiction when other crew members mysteriously offer to cosplay with her and reenact some of the lewdest scenes from her favorite anime

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon!   For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get   immediate, early access to everything I write - along with exclusive stories and the ability to vote on what I write next. Your support helps  me keep writing and is greatly appreciated   <3

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Peggy Morgan, the Inyx’s science officer, made sure to offer a proper salute to Captain Vasser as she finished up her duty shift on the bridge and headed into the turbolift that would take her back down to her quarters, in the bowels of the ship. As soon as the doors slid closed with their distinctive hiss, though, she slumped against the wall.

Another awful day.

It just wasn’t getting any easier. Peggy had always hoped that, somehow, once she made it to a senior enough post, she’d be able to fit in. No such luck. Instead, it felt like other members of the crew were constantly laughing at her behind her back, be it because of the way she looked, or the way she talked, or her tendency to get lost in daydreaming and fantasy when during an uneventful shift.

Yes, Peggy was a huge nerd. She understood perfectly well that she was a complete stereotype of a science officer. Peggy was pale and freckled, with long, red hair and huge, round glasses. She couldn’t handle contact lenses or laser correction, and a nervous habit meant that she often stuttered or lisped when she spoke. Thanks to that she usually kept quiet - but when she found her voice, she sometimes got carried away with her scientific explanations.

It wasn’t her fault that the finer points of subquantum physics were so fascinating! Really, other Alliance officers should try to educate themselves. Instead, when Captain Vasser cut her off, they just giggled behind their hands. And why did the captain have to be so short with her anyway? She was an officer! A young one, yes, but she still deserved respect.

Peggy sighed. Hopefully, once they were through with this mission, she could get herself transferred to a ship that suited her better. Until then, there was no use dwelling on it. All she could do was go back to her quarters after every shift and try to take her mind off it all by indulging in her favorite hobby.

Anime.

Yes, being obsessed with twenty-first-century media was often considered cringe. No, it didn’t help with her image as a complete and total dork. But Peggy didn’t care. Anime was her life. There was nothing better than curling up in her bunk with her body pillow and waifu plushes to burn through a few seasons of classic animation.

It was such a shame that Peggy didn’t have anyone to share her passion with. Unfortunately, to most people, anime was just some boring, old-fashioned, dead medium, no different from opera and ballet. Apparently, your average Alliance starship officer didn’t have much interest in classical culture. Oh, Peggy had tried to spread the good word. But just like everything else, it had mostly gotten her ignored and quietly made fun of.

Fine. Whatever. All Peggy needed to do to escape their scorn was make it back to her quarters without running into anyone unpleasant. Then she’d have the evening all to herself.

But it was never that easy. Peggy cursed her luck when she rounded a bulkhead and found herself staring at the Inyx’s chief of security, Samira Carter.

Great.

Chief Carter was one of the worst. Peggy had spent her entire education looking forward to the day she no longer had to deal with abrasive, small-minded, meat-headed jocks. But as it turned out, they had a way of following you wherever you went. Peggy and Chief Carter were never going to be friends. Chief Carter had that loud, swaggering confidence that just grated uncomfortably on Peggy’s nerves. She treated the whole ship, and everything in it like it was her own personal playground - especially the women. It was infuriating that, just because she had a few muscles, she assumed she could have any girl she wanted. It was even more infuriating that she seemed to be right.

Peggy would have disliked Carter even if she’d left the science officer completely alone. She was everything Peggy had learned to resent and avoid. But in typical fashion, she was also the ringleader of all the mockery Peggy had received. She had been the first to make cutting comments about Peggy’s love of anime, and she was always the one who laughed the loudest whenever she tripped over her words or got shut down by Captain Vasser. And since she was such a big presence wherever she went, the rest of the crew had ended up taking their cues from her.

Peggy had tried to give Chief Carter the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like the security chief was singling her out in particular. She treated almost everyone this way. Probably, it was her version of being friendly. ‘Harmless banter’, she’d call it. It wasn’t her fault that Peggy was so bad at sticking up for herself, and so easy to make fun of. But at the end of the day, that didn’t matter. She was making Peggy’s life miserable, and Peggy couldn’t forgive her for it.

So, as they walked towards each other, Peggy just fixed her eyes on the floor and silently prayed that Chief Carter didn’t take any notice of her. She couldn’t take one more mean comment. Not today. Hopefully, she was busy. Hopefully, she had something else on her mind. Hopefully, she was-

“Hey, Morgan. How’s it going?”

Her deep, cocksure, sultry voice was like nails on a chalkboard to the science officer. She kept her head down and quickened her pace, hoping against hope that Chief Carter would just let it go.

No such luck.

“Woah! What’s the hurry?”

Peggy felt herself thrown suddenly off balance as something slammed into her shoulder and spun her around. Immediately disoriented, she braced herself to hit the floor before she realized that, instead, something was bearing down on her and keeping her pressed firmly against the nearest bulkhead.

It was Chief Carter. The security chief had slammed her against the wall.

Immediately, Peggy was flinching and panicking. Physical abuse? She hadn’t imagined even Carter would sink quite that low. It was a major escalation. What was Peggy going to do? She could take it to the captain, yes, but that was slim consolation while she was getting her face pounded in by a brute of a security chief. Peggy started bringing her hands up to fend off the blows, shaking furiously.

“Hey,” Chief Carter said, in her very lowest, smokiest, most seductive voice. “Why such a hurry, cute thing? Surely whatever you’re doing tonight can’t be better than spending time with me.”

Peggy barked an awkward, disbelieving laugh. It took her a long moment to process, with disgust, that Chief Carter didn’t want to beat her.

She wanted to screw her.

Scarcely a more appealing proposition.

“G-g-g-get off m-me!” Peggy spluttered. Chief Carter just laughed good-naturedly.

“No need to be afraid, Morgan,” she cooed. “I don’t bite… much.”

Peggy felt like she was going to hurl. This was completely ludicrous.

“L-let me go!” Peggy doubled her efforts to squirm free. “Or I’ll… I’ll…”

To her surprise, Chief Carter actually eased up on her a little - although not enough for her to escape.

“C’mon. Is the prospect of spending an evening hanging out with me really that bad?” Chief Carter’s voice gave Peggy pause. She sounded surprisingly sincere.

“S-save it,” Peggy replied wearily. “You’re just making fun of me anyway.”

“Huh?” Now Chief Carter seemed all but wounded. “No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

“B-because it’s what you always do!” Peggy exploded. “I’m used to it by now, OK? You’re not gonna fool me that easily.”

“Morgan…” Chief Carter’s eyes turned big and deep and sorrowful. She reached down to gently caress Peggy’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry that you were hurting. I never knew. Won’t you let me make it up to you?”

Peggy was almost taken in. She let out a momentary gasp and lost herself briefly in Chief Carter’s eyes, before reality once again reasserted herself. Chief Carter’s charm was formidable, yes. It wasn’t difficult to see how so many girls had been taken in by it. She’d say anything to get a girl into bed. But no matter how charming, she just wasn’t Peggy’s type. Peggy was into girls who were gentle and sweet. Girls she could share her interests with. Not brawny jocks.

“L-look!” Peggy cried as she tried to push Carter away. “I… I’m honestly not sure if you’re joking or not, but I’m really not into you, OK? So, uh… thanks, but no thanks.”

Chief Carter’s whole face fell. She pulled back and withdrew her arm. “You won’t even give me a chance, huh?”

“I-it’s just… a little hard to believe.” Peggy was taking deep breaths to calm herself. She’d never been so eager to get back to her quarters. “I mean… why would you even be interested in me?”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute.” Chief Carter shrugged. She still sounded dead serious. “Look at it this way: we’re a long way from home out here on the Inyx. It’s only natural to take a certain interest in each other. I… really want to learn more about you, Morgan.”

“Oh.” Peggy turned frosty and started turning away. “I see how it is. Y-you’re just bored and looking for another notch on your bedpost, aren’t you?”

She took a few steps away, but Chief Carter’s powerful hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“No, wait!” The huge security chief sounded so ardent and desperate, it made Peggy freeze in her tracks. “Please let me explain!”

At that moment, it dawned on Peggy that this was real. Chief Carter wasn’t playing some kind of trick on her. Nobody was waiting around the corner to burst out and laugh. Somehow, for some reason, Chief Carter genuinely wanted to woo her.

It was a strange realization. It made Peggy grow warm with an unfamiliar, satisfying emotion. It made her feel powerful. She still didn’t reciprocate Carter’s feelings, of course. But she decided to hear her out. If nothing else, maybe a proper, firm rejection would teach her a little humility.

“Fine,” Peggy said firmly, turning back and folding her arms. “But tell me what’s going on. And be quick about it. I have places to be.”

She didn’t, really. Going back to her quarters to watch anime by herself didn’t count. But it sounded good.

“OK, OK.” To Peggy’s surprise, Chief Carter’s face turned a deep red color and she looked around furtively. “I just… I think you’re really cool. Seriously. And I actually think we might have a lot more in common than you realize. Maybe. With certain, uh, interests.”

Peggy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Chief Carter glanced around again before saying, in a hushed voice: “You like anime, right?”

“H-huh?” Peggy’s heart skipped a beat. “Um, yeah?”

The security chief checked yet again to make sure nobody else was around before she blurted out: “I’m a huge MaMeStaSe fangirl!”

Peggy froze. She stopped breathing. Of all the strange things she’d heard in the past five minutes, this was by far the most unbelievable.

‘MaMeStaSe’ was the preferred fan abbreviation for ‘Magical Maidens Star Sentinels’, a magical girl anime and Peggy’s absolute favorite show of all time. It was a cult classic, and for Peggy, it had everything: incredible animation, brilliant characters, heartwarming themes, and titillating action. She’d rewatched it so many times she’d lost count, she’d plastered posters of it all over her walls, and she even had a body pillow of one of the protagonists. Meeting another fan aboard the Inyx was a dream come true.

But it was a little difficult to believe.

“You are?” Peggy didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.

“Yes!” Chief Carter had a big grin on her face, like she couldn’t contain her excitement. “I swear!”

“Prove it,” Peggy told her flatly. “Do the pose.”

She was absolutely sure that Carter wouldn’t know what she was talking about, which made it all the more surprising when, without hesitation, Chief Carter performed an adorable little pirouette, struck an iconic pose, and, in a voice sparkling with hope and love, recited:

“In the name of the stars, I’ll punish you!”

It was perfect. She was a true fan.

Peggy started bouncing up and down with glee. She couldn’t help herself. She lunged forward and threw her hands around the security chief.

“Ohmigod!” she squealed. “It’s so good, right? It’s soooo good. I mean, the opening? The transformations? Hey, what’s your favorite arc? Have you read the manga? I like it too, don’t get me wrong, but to me, the anime is just so much more-“ Peggy cut herself off and blushed. “Oh no, I’m babbling.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Chief Carter exclaimed. She clasped Peggy’s hands and looked every bit as overcome with joy and excitement as Peggy felt. “I can’t wait to talk about everything. But, right now, I had something a little different in mind.”

“Oh?” She had Peggy’s full attention.

“Have you ever thought about recreating one of the episodes?” Chief Carter asked her.

“You mean, like, in the holodeck?” Peggy asked. She had; it was her favorite way to use her holorec time. She loved immersing herself in the fantasy, even if it wore off all too quickly once her time was up.

“No, better,” Chief Carter replied. “In real life!”

Peggy just tilted her head, confused.

“It turns out,” Chief Carter said, “Dr. Hiraga is a fan too! I only found out a little while ago, but she and I have been working on something down in medbay. Costumes, holographic assets - the works. But we need a third person. And you… well, nobody else knows Magical Maidens Star Sentinels the way you do.”

Peggy puffed up a little in pride upon hearing that.

“So, what do you say?” Chief Carter turned bashful again. “I’m… sorry for coming on so strong earlier. It doesn’t have to be, um, a d-date or anything. But I’d really love it if you’d come.”

Peggy couldn’t help but be endeared to this cuter, nerdier version of Chief Carter. Besides, hearing that Dr. Hiraga was an anime fan too was nothing short of breathtaking. Three magical girl fans on one ship? There was no way she could decline.

“Of course I’ll come!” she replied. “We need to save the stars with the power of friendship, right?”

Chief Carter pulled Peggy into a huge bear hug, one that almost lifted her off her feet. Then she took Peggy by the end and started leading her down towards medbay.

Inside medbay, everything was dim. The main ceiling lights had been switched off, and instead the room was illuminated from strange angles by an array of holographic projectors mounted all over the walls. Peggy knew medbay had some holotech to support the emergency medical hologram, but this seemed excessive. Someone had been making some major upgrades.

That was just a stray observation, though. Peggy was far too preoccupied to dwell on it. She was busy wondering what was going to happen next. They’d hurried to medbay so quickly, she hadn’t been able to ask any questions. What did recreating a magical girl anime in real life mean? And wasn’t something missing here?

“Where’s Dr. Hiraga?” Peggy asked quietly.

“Behind there.”

Chief Carter pointed to where a holographic privacy screen had been erected at the far end of the medbay. Peggy frowned.

“She’s… hiding? Why?”

“To help set the scene.”

Peggy’s frown deepened. “What does that mean, Carter?”

Infuriatingly, Chief Carter answered her question with a question. “Season Two. Episode thirty-seven. What happens?”

“Sentinel Green goes to try and save Sentinel Blue from the clutches of the evil Doctor Tomoe,” Peggy recited. “But the doctor makes Blue betray her, and both of them end up brainwashed. It’s one of my favorite episodes!”

For a fan of Peggy’s caliber, the question was trivial.

“Right!” Chief Carter said excitedly. “Isn’t this perfect? Medbay looks just like Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab!”

“It does,” Peggy admitted.

“We can do the whole scene!” Chief Carter exclaimed, overflowing with nerdy glee. “You can be Sentinel Green, I’ll be Sentinel Blue, and our very own ship’s doctor is perfect for the remaining role.”

“Oh, like roleplay!”

When Chief Carter nodded, Peggy was satisfied that she understood what was actually going on. It was still well outside of her comfort zone, though. Peggy adored roleplay. Losing herself in a shared fantasy was rewarding and intoxicating in a way nothing else could match. It was one of her favorite ways to pass time. But she’d never done it in person, only over text. It was easy to get swept away by Chief Carter’s enthusiasm, and by heady thoughts of fangirling together with her and Dr. Hiraga afterward.

“O-OK!” Peggy squeaked nervously. “Um… we all know the scene, right? How do we get started?”

Chief Carter’s dorky grin widened. “We get into costume.”

Peggy blinked, and then turned a deep red. “Y-you have costumes?”

Oh no. She hadn’t expected this. If they were wearing costumes, then this went a step beyond simple roleplay.

It was cosplay.

"U-um,” Peggy squeaked. “Maybe I should… uh… r-rewatch the episode first! And, um, I t-think I had a duty shift to cover later. And-“

“C’mon, Morgan.” Chief Carter gave her shoulder a comradely squeeze. “Don’t be like that. There’s no need to be shy! I’m sure you know the episode like the back of your hand. And everything’s ready right now. Trust me, your costume is perfect.”

Peggy’s blush deepened. She couldn’t bring herself to back out. Not when she was finally getting the chance to be a part of something. She couldn’t face going back to her quarters alone. She had to participate. There was just one problem.

Science Officer Peggy Morgan had a huge cosplay fetish.

She couldn’t explain it. Not really. But there was something special - no, magical - about cosplay. Seeing a character come to life through costume and performance felt like nothing short of a miracle. The holodeck never had the same appeal. Holograms were just light with a little pre-scripted AI running behind them. Cosplay was real. It was transformation. When Peggy saw a cosplayer truly become the character they were cosplaying, it made her feel like anything was possible - even for a mousy nerd like her.

That was her fascination. But, admittedly, her fetish went beyond that. Peggy couldn’t explain why cosplayers turned her on so much. Maybe it was their mannerisms, so fictive and exaggerated. It was almost mesmerizing, seeing a flesh-and-blood person follow a script intended for an animated character. Maybe it was their beauty, so stylized it was almost unreal. Maybe it was what they represented: characters that she was used to seeing as drawings or dolls come to life, but still presenting themselves to be looked at and played with and enjoyed. It just turned her on like nothing else.

And, of course, plenty of cosplays were far from innocent. Erotic cosplay frequently left Peggy drooling. Sometimes, when she was alone in her quarters, she would spend hours scrolling through massive archives of pictures until her own arousal and pleasure grew to be too much. But even regular cosplay excited her to an embarrassing degree. In the past, she’d excused herself from costume parties, just in case they got her a little too worked up.

But now she had to cosplay alongside Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga.

All without giving herself away.

“Here’s yours.” Chief Carter, oblivious to Peggy’s inner turmoil, picked up a bundle of green clothes from a nearby table and handed it to her. “Try it on! Don’t worry, I pulled your uniform size from the databanks as I replicated it. It should be perfect. I’ve got mine too. Let me give you some privacy.”

Before Peggy could say anything, she headed off to a far corner of the room and activated another holographic privacy screen, hiding her and Peggy from one another. Now that she was, relatively speaking, alone, Peggy took a deep breath and looked down at the clothing in her hands.

It was immaculately designed. Replicators could make anything, of course, but making sure the stitching, fit, and design were all just right could be a labor of love, and Peggy could tell that no effort had been spared here. This was Sentinel Green’s magical outfit, right down to every last detail of the frills and ribbons. There was, at first glance, just one issue.

It was latex.

There was usually a level of interpretation when it came to deciding what materials to use for cosplay. Animation, after all, rarely made it clear precisely what was intended. But shiny, bright, smooth rubber was certainly quite the choice. Thinking about what this was going to look like on her made Peggy shiver with equal parts anxiety and anticipation.

She considered refusing, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She had to. Which meant there was nothing for Peggy to do but try on the cosplay.

Peggy removed her Alliance uniform swiftly and efficiently. She was used to that part. Putting on a magical girl cosplay outfit was something else entirely. But once she experimentally slipped one of her feet into one of the white, embroidered, thigh-high socks, something came over her. It was like she was possessed by something; a feverish enthusiasm that had her limbs moving in a hurried frenzy and putting on the cosplay like it was second nature. Before she knew it, Peggy was wearing the whole thing.

She shivered. It felt amazing.

And it was so, so skimpy.

Once the initial rush wore off, Peggy was stunned by how much air she could feel on her bare skin. Admittedly, the outfits in Magical Maidens Star Sentinels were, according to some, pretty revealing. The term ‘fanservice’ was frequently bandied around. Peggy had always ardently insisted that it was unfair, and that the designs were perfectly tasteful as long as you looked at them in the right light.

She was now reconsidering that stance.

The blouse, while tailored to fit Peggy, was clearly intended to suit the slim proportions of an anime character; as a result, it left the layer of puppy fat on Peggy’s tummy embarrassingly prominent. The same was true for her thick thighs, on two counts: they muffin-topped over the thigh-highs, and threatened to make the pleated, too-short skirt ride up every time she moved. The fact it was all so brightly colored, so shiny and green, made it all the more lurid, and the way everything was styled, with frills and ruffles and sparkling gemstones, took the ensemble to another level.

Peggy had never been more embarrassed, and she had never been more turned on.

“Morgan?” Chief Carter called out, from behind the privacy screen. “Changed?”

“Y-yeah,” Peggy answered without thinking. Then: “W-wait, no, d-don’t come-“

It was too late. Carter flicked off the privacy screen, and the two of them saw each other. For a moment Peggy thought she was going to die from embarrassment - but then that thought, just like all her other thoughts, was obliterated as she lost herself in the sight of Chief Carter in her cosplay.

Her outfit was the same as Peggy’s except in blue instead of green, and yet somehow, it looked completely different. The similarity in design simply brought out the contrast in their physiques. In Chief Carter’s case, the tight-fitting, revealing magical girl outfit seemed to be struggling to contain her proud, sculpted muscles. The result was similar to what was going on with Peggy, where her clothes were threatening to ride up all over, but the effect was totally different. It accentuated the triangular shape of her torso and all the work she put into her abs.

God, her abs. Peggy had never really deigned to notice just how appealing muscular girls could be, but the latex outfit shed Carter’s physique in such a new light, she couldn’t help but stare. It conformed so tightly to her torso, each one of her abs had its own, shiny highlight from medbay’s dim lights. The effect was nothing short of pornographic, and Peggy was enraptured. The best part was how strange it all looked on her. The tall, swaggering security chief would never normally dress in something so bright and attention-grabbing. The way it transformed her was, to Peggy, both erotic and magical.

Chief Carter was Sentinel Blue.

It made Peggy wonder how she seemed. Had she been transformed too? It was such an exciting thought, and Chief Carter’s reaction confirmed it for her immediately.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed uncharacteristically. “Morgan, I knew it! You’re perfect.”

Heat rose in Peggy’s body. She looked away. “R-really?” she asked bashfully.

“Hell yes!”

The sparkling enthusiasm in Chief Carter’s eyes left no room for doubt. Peggy was beyond euphoric. It was all she could do to keep herself from bouncing up and down. She was cosplaying as a character from her favorite show. It was a wet dream come true.

“But… um… why l-latex?” Peggy ventured. “It’s a little…”

“Oh, that was the doctor’s call,” Carter replied. “Doesn’t it look magical? The way it shines, it’s like it’s glowing!”

Peggy couldn’t disagree with that. She was utterly captivated, and her head was filling with unspeakable fantasies about all the things she suddenly wanted to do with Chief Carter. It was strange; dressed normally, she had no interest in the muscular woman. Dressed like this, she was a fantasy made flesh. She was irresistible.

“So,” Chief Carter said, striking a small pose. She was radiating joyful confidence. “Shall we get started?”

Peggy walked over to her, trembling with nervousness, trying to ignore the way her thighs rubbed together pleasurably with each step.

“S-sure,” Peggy struggled to say. She decided to try looking at the floor. That seemed safest. “So, um… w-what now?”

“Well, we’re all ready!” Chief Carter’s uncharacteristically innocent enthusiasm was an uncannily perfect match for her magical girl cosplay. Peggy tried not to think about that too much. “We all know how the story is supposed to go. So… places! You can start over by the door. And I’ll…”

Chief Carter clambered onto one of medbay’s many examination chairs, which immediately reclined to accept her. Without warning, restraints mounted within the bed snapped shut around her wrists and ankles. The sound made Peggy jump, and she scampered over to the medbay door.

Abruptly, the lights shifted. This was it. The scene was starting.

Immediately, Peggy was struck by the realization that, metaphorically speaking, all eyes were now on her. Sentinel Green was the hero of the scene. It was on her to get the ball rolling. She knew the script practically line by line, but acting it out properly was another matter. Peggy had never done anything like it before. She wasn’t even sure if she could.

But the more she thought about it, the more a strange, nervous excitement started to flood her limbs. It was the same feeling Peggy got when she was standing a little too close to the edge of a high precipice. The urge to take a leap of faith. To throw herself into the role. Her body burned with it and so Peggy let it take her, and stepped forwards.

“Blue!” she called out, her voice sounding, even to her own ears, brighter and clearer. Peggy took a few cautious steps into medbay - no, into Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab. “Sentinel Blue! Blue, I’m here to rescue you!”

"Green?” came the weak, weary reply. It was Chief Carter - no, Sentinel Blue - no, both. “Is that really you?”

Peggy rushed to her side at once. It was strange; now that she was playing a role, it was so much easier to stand taller and feel braver. She was a Star Sentinel. A hero. And she was here to save her comrade.

Looking down at Chief Carter in cosplay, though, made her feel anything but heroic. All of the shameful, secret feelings she’d experienced earlier came surging back - but they were all the stronger now that Chief Carter was like this: prone, helpless, restrained. With her arms trapped at her sides, her body was even more exposed, and the knowledge that she couldn’t resist anything being done to her was dizzyingly titillating.

It was like she was a doll. A toy to be played with. And it made Peggy itch to touch her.

Instead, she stayed on script. “Blue! I’m so glad I found you. Let’s get you out of here. Can you break out of those restraints?”

Chief Carter followed the script perfectly and began to strain against her bonds. Sentinel Blue was strong, but they were stronger. With all her muscles, Peggy wondered if Chief Carter might actually be able to bust out, but it appeared not. Just like in the episode of MaMeStaSe, she eventually gave up and slumped back into the examination chair, flushed and gleaming with sweat from her exertion.

There was, however, one major difference between the Sentinel Blue Peggy was looking at now, and the one from her beloved anime.

This Sentinel Blue was blatantly extremely turned on.

There was no mistaking it. Her cheeks were burning red from more than just strain, and there was a lurid shine to her eyes. She was panting far more than was reasonable, and with her cosplay outfit so absolutely tight around her body, Peggy could see that her nipples were forming two hard little bullets underneath the latex.

The sight was mesmerizing.

“S-Sentinel Blue?” Peggy ventured. She wasn’t sure what to do.

"I-I guess I’m not… s-strong enough,” Chief Carter panted. The confession made her squirm. It was obvious it excited her. “You’ll have to… to set me free.”

She was sticking to the script, at least as far as the dialogue was concerned. Was Peggy supposed to play along, like nothing strange was happening? That seemed absurd, and yet there was something irresistible about it. It was like she’d be living in a work of pornography.

Peggy decided to keep going. If nothing else, she couldn’t help wanting to see Chief Carter squirm even more.

“I’ll look around,” she said in an urgent stage whisper. “We just need to get you out before-“

“Before I return?”

Dr. Hiraga’s voice, coming from behind the holographic privacy screen at the far end of medbay, sent chills down Peggy’s spine. She knew Dr. Hiraga, of course. Everybody on the ship did. But she sounded different now. Her voice was colder and more sinister. She sounded like a villainess.

It was perfect for the role of Doctor Tomoe.

“Doctor Tomoe!” Peggy cried right on cue, dropping into a fighting stance. “But you’re supposed to be on the other side of the city!”

“Did you really think I would fall for that cheap distraction?” Doctor Tomoe cackled. “I sent my minions to take care of it. Your friends are tied up fighting them. Which means you’re here, alone, with me.”

She stepped out from behind the privacy screen and, even though it was true to the script, there was nothing planned or intended about the way Peggy gasped.

Dr. Hiraga was in cosplay too, of course, and her outfit was a perfect match for Doctor Tomoe’s. In MaMeStaSe, the evil scientist wore a long, white lab coat over a sleek, black bodysuit of some kind. And in keeping with the other cosplays, Dr. Hiraga had chosen to render the bodysuit in black latex, polished to a mirror sheen.

In the past, Peggy had never given Dr. Hiraga’s body a second thought. Now, it was impossible to ignore. Every single one of her indulgent, middle-aged curves was highlighted by the way the light glistened off the shining rubber. It was glorious. Peggy forgot how rude it was to stare. Not drooling was the most she could manage. Dr. Hiraga was shining like a dark star. Unlike the magical girl cosplays, hers was suggestive only in its sleekness. It wasn’t revealing or needlessly tight. It made her feel more dignified than Peggy or Chief Carter. It made her powerful.

She had become Doctor Tomoe.

The cognitive dissonance hitting Peggy was hypnotic. It was like she was looking at two people at once. The gentle, caring Dr. Hiraga, and the evil, indomitable Doctor Tomoe. It seemed just as impossible for Dr. Hiraga to be so imposing and sinister as it did for Doctor Tomoe to be here, real, in the flesh. It was a perfect cosplay. She kept instinctively searching for some missing detail, for something out of place, but there was nothing. Even her makeup, thick and sharp and dark, was perfect for the character.

Which was a huge problem, since the character in question had been the source of some of Peggy’s biggest sexual awakenings.

“Surprised?” Dr. Hiraga - no, Doctor Tomoe - no, both - cocked an eyebrow, amused. “You should be. I have you exactly where I want you, Sentinel Green.”

“How dare you!” The scripted words came effortlessly to Peggy’s lips. She couldn’t break the scene, no matter how flustered she was. “In the name of the stars, I’ll bring you to justice!”

“Oh? All on your own?” Dr. Hiraga’s smirk was so perfectly mocking and superior, that Peggy couldn’t believe it was acted. She was utterly convincing. “You’re not so strong without your magical little friends.”

Peggy squirmed at her dripping, molten contempt. A hundred scenarios flashed through her mind, each more perverse and depraved than the last. Her mind, tainted by countless hours of staring adoringly at lewd cosplays, was working overdrive. Peggy couldn’t count how many times she’d blown off steam thinking about Doctor Tomoe. But no matter what, she had to stick to the script.

“I’m not the one who’s alone!” she shot back. Even though she was insanely turned on, her voice sounded heroic and full of innocent conviction. Dr. Hiraga was a perfect Doctor Tomoe, but Peggy was managing a decent Sentinel Green. “You don’t have your minions here. And I have my friend right by my side!”

"She’s a little tied down at the moment,” Dr. Hiraga sneered viciously. “She won’t be any help to you!”

“That’s what you think!” Peggy cried. “But with the power of friendship and justice on our side, we can overcome anything!”

Now she was the one panting and struggling to keep the lust out of her voice. Nevertheless, she reached across Chief Carter to put her hands on one of the metal shackles keeping her trapped against the examination chair. In the episode, Sentinel Green summoned her magic and used it to set Sentinel Blue free. Hopefully, Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter had set things up so that if she just tugged a little bit, the manacles would release of their own volition.

Sure enough, they did. Even though it was all fake, in that moment, Peggy felt genuinely heroic. She was channeling the emotion of the scene, and that made it easy to plant her hands squarely on her hips as she stared down the villainous Doctor Tomoe.

“There! Now it’s two against one,” Peggy declared. “Surrender now, Doctor Tomoe. Or else.”

Chief Carter rose to her feet to stand beside her, gently nursing her wrists. The two of them made a perfect matching pair as they squared off against the doctor, even if Chief Carter seemed, somehow, a touch disappointed. Thanks to the magic of the moment, her presence made Peggy feel that much stronger and braver. Even though they were both wearing porny latex. Even though she knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Is that so?” Dr. Hiraga purred. “You’re right about one thing, Sentinel Green. It is two against one - just not the way you think.”

Lazily, she raised a hand and snapped her fingers.

Peggy looked round sharply as she sensed Chief Carter abruptly start to sway. Immediately, she froze. She had been expecting, maybe, a convincing performance of being stunned or entranced. Despite the strange reaction she’d had to the restraints, Chief Carter was proving to be a surprisingly skilled performer. What Peggy saw now, though, went far beyond acting.

Chief Carter had spirals in her eyes.

It was impossible. At first Peggy thought it had to be a trick of light, but no. The more she stared, the more it became clear that this was completely and totally real. Chief Carter’s eyes had become spinning, spiraling orbs, each one glowing from within with an unfathomable light. Peggy couldn’t believe how accurate to the anime it was. The way Chief Carter had swayed and sagged as if totally drained of mind and thought was just as perfect.

“W-what have you done to her?” Peggy breathed. It was Sentinel Green’s line, but the question was genuine.

“No one can resist my treatment!” Dr. Hiraga cackled. “Not even the Star Sentinels. Sentinel Blue is mine now. She’s one of my minions. And soon, you will be too.”

“N-no,” Peggy gasped. She was completely caught up in the emotion of the scene. She remembered the sense of dawning shock and horror she’d felt so many times, watching this moment unfold. Now, she was living it.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Hiraga crowed. “You’ll soon see! Minion, seize her!”

Peggy shivered and squirmed as she felt Chief Carter’s powerful hands seize her by the shoulders.

“Blue!” Peggy let her voice become a high-pitched, girly shriek. “What are you doing?”

“She can’t hear you now,” Dr. Hiraga warned. “Minion, strap her to the chair!”

Peggy hadn’t thought this far ahead, and so she wasn’t prepared for the way Chief Carter lifted her bodily off the ground without the slightest hint of real effort. Evidently, when she’d pushed the science officer against the wall earlier, she’d been using a bare fraction of her true strength. When Peggy felt her feet leave the floor, the way she writhed in a frantic bid to squirm free wasn’t acted. It was very, very real.

Fortunately for her, Chief Carter wasted no time in swinging her around and placing her down firmly on the exam chair. An instant later, she was forcing Peggy’s hands into the same manacles she herself had just been freed from. Peggy was too stunned to say anything, and what had stunned her the most was Chief Carter’s complete lack of gentleness. The chief had been so friendly and enthusiastic, but now she was throwing Peggy around like she was nothing more than a sack of meat.

Almost like she was really brainwashed.

It was a silly thought, but Peggy couldn’t seem to shake it. There was just no way Chief Carter was actually this good of an actor. Everything about the way she moved and carried herself was unnatural and rigid. It was too perfect. And then there were her eyes. Peggy had seen plenty of cheap cosplay tricks. Enough to know that they weren’t just a trick. Most alarmingly of all, when she stared into Chief Carter’s eyes for just a little too long, she could feel herself starting to slip under the spirals’ hypnotic influence.

Something strange was happening.

So shouldn’t she say something? Do something? Call the scene to a halt? That would have been the responsible thing to do. But Peggy couldn’t make herself do it. There was a magic to the moment. To the way they were all three of them caught up in the flow of the scene, living out their characters’ actions, feeling all their sensations and feelings.

It was everything Peggy could have ever asked for. She couldn’t give it up.

“Not so strong now, are you?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. She moved to stand over Peggy, and from where the science officer was sitting she seemed more imposing than ever. “You Star Sentinels are so easy to fool.”

Peggy’s mouth was dry, but she forced herself to stick to the script.

“S-Sentinel Blue!” she cried out in a decidedly uneven voice. “You have to listen to me! You have to fight! You can beat this! Resist!”

Chief Carter opened her mouth and for a moment, despite the source material, Peggy found herself hoping she would find the strength to fight off the mind control.

Instead, all she said was: “I obey Doctor Tomoe,” in a droning, monotone voice that was so far away from Chief Carter’s usual, brash tones it made Peggy whimper.

“It’s no use,” Dr. Hiraga sneered. “She’s completely under my control. And soon, you’ll be just like her.”

“N-never!” Peggy tried to sound defiant, just like Sentinel Green. Instead, she sounded like she was moaning. It was like she was a porn parody of the real thing - a thought that drove her wild with need.

“Ridiculous!” Dr. Hiraga threw back her head and laughed. “You’re powerless, Sentinel Green! Look, you can’t even brush my hand away.”

Peggy went very, very still as Dr. Hiraga reached down and rested a latex-gloved hand on her thigh, up under the hem of her skirt.

This was it. It was an infamous moment in the anime, depicted in a thousand less-than-savory fanworks - especially ones by lesbian fans. Peggy had always steadfastly maintained that it was a simple illustration of Doctor Tomoe’s lack of respect for others, but it was hard to deny that there was something titillating about it.

Peggy, turned on as she was, had mostly been hoping she wouldn’t do something embarrassing like squirm or moan. She had been sure Dr. Hiraga would barely even touch her. It was just roleplay, right?

Instead, Dr. Hiraga started openly groping her.

At first, when Peggy first felt the doctor’s fingers pressing roughly and insistently into the flesh of her pale, exposed, sensitive thighs, she couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely it was just a mistake. Surely Dr. Hiraga was just about to break character and apologize. But no - she just kept going, and with each passing moment, her grin widened and her fingers reached further up Peggy’s hips.

The look in the doctor’s eyes was the most shocking part of it. They were shining with glee and malice, like she was drunk on the pleasure of violating Peggy’s body. It was completely authentic and sincere, and completely unlike Dr. Hiraga.

But perfect for Doctor Tomoe.

Before Peggy could dwell on that, the sensations filling her body overtook her shock. Her back arched, and she was forced to gasp and pant for each breath. Her cheeks turned the deepest red as she was drowned in overwhelming embarrassment and shame over how she was reacting. But she couldn’t help it. Being touched like this felt amazing, even though she wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was because she’d watched this scene in the anime hundreds of times, fascinated by how it looked, imagining how it might feel, wondering what it would be like to look up helplessly at Doctor Tomoe. And now she was living it. She was living her fantasy, and her whole body was electric with the thrill.

“You see?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. “Helpless.”

Her hand reached further, pushing up her tiny latex skirt and beginning to touch at the hem of her panties. Peggy couldn’t help but moan, but even as she did she was wracked with confusion. Had Doctor Tomoe gone quite this far in the anime? Wasn’t this a little too much? She couldn’t exactly remember. It was getting so hard to think clearly.

“G-g-get off me!” Peggy whined. She sounded unconvincing - but then again, so had Sentinel Green in a few moments. “Y-you’ll pay for this!”

“We’ll see about that,” Dr. Hiraga purred. She brought her other hand to Peggy’s chest and started groping her there, too. There was something magical about the sensation of latex on latex. “Soon enough, you’ll accept me eagerly. You’ll profess your undying devotion and obedience. You’ll beg for me.”

“N-n-never!” Peggy moaned as Dr. Hiraga squeezed her tits and stroked the lips of her cunt.

They were off-script now, she was sure of it. Doctor Tomoe had never touched Sentinel Green like this. So… she should put a stop to this, right? That thought nagged at her again. Wouldn’t that be the right thing to do? Young though Peggy was, she was still an officer. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen on a military vessel. But in the moment, she was struggling to think about that.

She was too busy thinking about how wet she was. Too busy struggling to figure out if she wanted Dr. Hiraga to notice or not.

The fantasy was too powerful. She couldn’t sacrifice it. She wanted - she needed - to immerse herself deeper, no matter how twisted it was getting. Where was she ever going to find this feeling again?

All she needed to do was stop thinking and lose herself to the wet dream. She was being groped by Doctor Tomoe. By the hottest villainess in all of fiction. It was amazing.

It was so amazing, she whined in disappointment when Dr. Hiraga finally pulled away. The doctor noticed, and the look of scorn that flashed through her eyes made Peggy’s cunt clench.

“I can’t wait to brainwash you to our cause,” Doctor Tomoe declared. “But the pleasure won’t be all mine. My dark mistress wishes to see you fall.”

Peggy’s eyes flew wide. She’d almost forgotten. The big twist of this arc of Magical Maidens Star Sentinels was that Doctor Tomoe was, herself, brainwashed - by the true villain, Queen Betalia. What did that mean? What was going to happen? When Queen Betalia showed up, she was more of a looming, shadowy presence than a real character. A hologram, perhaps?

“Queen Betalia!” Dr. Hiraga cried out theatrically. “We beseech you! Appear before us!”

There was a distinctive hum as holographic projectors concealed around medbay flickered into life. Peggy wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see, but the very last thing she’d anticipated was an ominous, familiar figure with dyed hair, wild eyes, and dozens of visible tattoos and piercings.

It was Wasp. The vandal-hacker the Inyx was hunting.

As science officer, Peggy wasn’t as motivated as some of the other crew members by the thought of catching her. She was in it for the experience, and to study any anomalies they came across. But she’d still been in all the briefings. She knew exactly who this woman was, even if she couldn’t begin to fathom what exactly her presence here meant.

Wasp, unlike the rest of them, wasn’t wearing any kind of cosplay. She was dressed in what Peggy understood to be her typical attire: leggings, a big, punk battle jacket, and a sports bra. But if that wasn’t enough to set her apart from the role-players, the way she leered at Peggy and cackled certainly was.

"You know, you’re really a girl after my own heart,” Wasp said to Peggy in an absurdly conversational voice. “I mean, I’m a hacker, right? Deep down I’m a huge nerd. Not that I’ve ever taken it as far as you. That’s one hell of a hentai collection buried in your personal computer files.”

Peggy craned her head to look at Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga. Chillingly, neither one of them had reacted to Wasp’s holographic presence in any way. Both of them were just standing there like statues. Like dolls who had been momentarily set aside.

This was really bad.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” Wasp told her. “In fact…”

She snapped her fingers in Dr. Hiraga’s face. An instant later, Dr. Hiraga’s eyes turned into glowing, spinning spirals. The exact same spirals that Peggy could see in Chief Carter’s.

This was really, really bad.

Peggy’s mind, still sluggish from arousal and fantasy, was struggling to parse what this meant. Were they still roleplaying? It seemed unlikely. If Wasp was meant to be Queen Betalia, she wasn’t in character, or even in cosplay. Why would it be her? And if she was just a hologram, why was she veering off script and breaking the fourth wall?

But what was the alternative? That Wasp, a hacker, had infiltrated the Inyx’s systems and somehow brainwashed senior members of the crew? That was even more difficult to face up to.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Wasp added when she noticed Peggy’s growing distress. “Just think of me as part of your little roleplay. Just an unexpected little twist. That’s how this is supposed to go, right? The big bad shows up, trances the doc, and then the magical girl gets brainwashed. Trust me, I’m not going to ruin your fun on that count. That’s the very last thing I’d want.”

Peggy just kept glancing nervously between Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga for clarification. She wasn’t sure what to believe. She tugged against her restraints again, hoping against hope that they might come loose.

“L-let me go,” Peggy protested weakly. “You’ll pay for this!”

They were just the words that popped into her head. They felt right. But they were also Sentinel Green’s words.

Wasp seemed to pick up on that. “That’s right,” she urged. “Just lie back, magical girl. Enjoy the ride. Hell, enjoy the view.”

“B-but…” Peggy spluttered uncertainly, once again half-consciously echoing her character, “But… but…”

“Just look at them.” Wasp gestured towards Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga, drawing Peggys’ eye. “Aren’t they perfect? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

Once Peggy looked, she couldn’t look away. There was something spellbinding about seeing her fellow officers like this. The cosplay, of course, sent forbidden thrills of pleasure running down Peggy’s spine, but so did the way they were just standing there, devoid of emotion or personality. They looked so empty. They were like toys, waiting to be played with. Like figurines, waiting to be posed.

“Or… maybe you’d prefer it like this.”

Wasp made a show of snapping her fingers again. As she did, Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga shuddered back to life, although their eyes didn’t return to normal. Instead, their spirals shifted color to a deep, pink tint. They didn’t react to Peggy or Wasp either. Without warning, the two women stared intently at each other and then rushed into one another’s arms.

“Oh, Sentinel Blue!” Dr. Hiraga cried, in a voice uncharacteristically thick with unrestrained emotion. “I can’t pretend anymore! It was always you.”

“I know!” Sentinel Blue wailed. “The truth is, I never cared about Sentinel Yellow. I never cared about justice or vanquishing evil. I don’t think I ever cared about anything but you. I love you!”

The two of them started mashing their faces together in a deep, clumsy, passionate kiss. The little scene playing out between them was so strange and melodramatic it was almost comical, but Peggy wasn’t laughing. She was enthralled. She recognized this - their words, their kissing.

It was from a work of fanfiction. A work of fanfiction she’d written, years ago.

As the two brainwashed officers kept kissing and grabbing at each other in their overenthusiastic display of affection, Peggy couldn’t dream of looking away. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty about staring. After all, this was yet another of her fantasies come to life. They were literally following her script. Wasn’t she meant to look? Weren’t these two supposed to be looked at?

That’s what cosplay was all about.

The sheer, blatant, fetishistic nature of their latex outfits only accentuated that further. Ogling them for Peggy’s enjoyment just seemed right. They were dolls. Dolls were meant to be played with. That was obvious.

Her anguish over her situation was starting to abate, and her cunt was starting to drip down onto the examination chair beneath her.

“Or,” Wasp added, “it could be like this.”

The hacker snapped her fingers yet again, and Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter’s eyes changed color once more. Without any hesitation, they broke off from kissing. All of the overflowing, ardent longing they had been expressing drained away into nothing. Moving in eerie synchronization, they knelt next to the examination chair Peggy was restrained in, one on each side of her.

“Sentinel Green,” Chief Carter whispered, in a low, breathy, seductive voice that made Peggy’s whole body tingle. “We’re all yours. We’re here to service you.”

Peggy whimpered as raw need washed over her.

“We’ll do anything,” came Dr. Hiraga’s voice from her other side. Hearing Doctor Tomoe talk like this was driving Peggy crazy. She sounded like an actress from a cheap porno. “We just want to make you feel good.”

As one, they lowered their mouths to her body and started kissing, licking, sucking across her bare skin, all along her legs and arms. Peggy couldn’t keep herself from squirming wildly, but with the restraints keeping her limbs trapped, there was no escape. She couldn’t believe how sensitive her body had become.

It was the cosplay and the roleplay. Layers upon layers of fantasy and fiction, each one heightening the fetishistic appeal even more. The way Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga were behaving now was unmistakably pornographic, and that was the hottest thing of all for Peggy. She was watching them debase her favorite characters, all for her titillation and her pleasure.

“Do you know the best part?” Wasp commented, grinning wickedly. “They’re not acting. Not pretending. Oh no. I made them believe. To them, you’re really Sentinel Green.”

Peggy flushed and shivered. God, that was so hot.

“And in a way, they’re not wrong,” Wasp mused. “Just look at yourself. You’re just like them. You fit in perfectly. The costumes really are perfect. It suits you.”

Peggy wasn’t sure why being complimented by a villain and a criminal made her body throb with fresh pleasure - but it did. This was all she wanted. To be Sentinel Green. To submerge into the character. To look good and hot in her cosplay. Nothing could be more arousing.

“You know,” Wasp added leadingly, “if anyone walked in here right now, they wouldn’t be able to see the difference between you and them. I’m not sure I can.”

That comment lit a fire in Peggy’s mind. No difference. It made sense, when she looked down at herself. She was dressed just as provocatively. She was acting just as pornographically.

Just like them, she was a doll.

Something to be posed. Something to be played with.

As Peggy continued to moan and squirm, Wasp bent down and put her lips to Peggy’s ear.

“And,” she whispered, “in just a moment, I’m going to make you exactly like them. I’m going to make you mine.”

Peggy froze. She’d been getting lost in the fantasy. But as much as she wanted to be Sentinel Green, she was Peggy Morgan too. She was the Inyx’s science officer. She had a responsibility to the crew.

And yet…

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wasp added, straightening. “You don’t have any choice about it. I’m sure you’re already plenty wound up. There’s no way you can resist. I’m just saying, it’s up to you how you want to feel about it.”

“W… what…?” Peggy managed, desperately confused.

“I’m just saying.” Wasp shrugged. “Who needs boring old reality, when you can live a fantasy like this. Am I right?”

Peggy’s back suddenly arched as Dr. Hiraga planted a kiss dangerously close to her needy, throbbing cunt. Clear thought was a distant memory. What Wasp was suggesting should have horrified her - but it didn’t. Instead, one single, powerful observation was at the forefront of her mind.

In all the time she’d spent on the Inyx, this was the best she’d ever felt.

Something inside the nerdy science officer snapped. She made her voice.

“Y-you can’t!” she cried out desperately. “I’ll never betray my comrades! You c-can’t make me!”

It should have been a cry of defiance, but the words weren’t hers.

They were Sentinel Green’s.

“Atta girl.” Wasp laughed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, though. You’re totally gonna betray everyone. I’m gonna use your smarts to perfect this little implant-brainwashing procedure the doc and I have been working on. No more breaking down resistance. One little zap is all it’ll take. Soon enough, everyone on this fucking ship is gonna be under my spell.”

Peggy just moaned. It felt so right. Sentinel Green, brainwashed to betray her allies. That was how the story was supposed to go.

“But you’ll have fun,” Wasp told her. “I can promise you that. I can have endless fun with you. And with the chief, and the doctor. And, who knows? Maybe once I’ve got the whole ship, we can put the rest of the Star Sentinels together.”

For just one single word, Peggy let herself break from the script and say something Sentinel Green never would have said.

“P-please!”

Wasp laughed again, and snapped her fingers. Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga rose to their feet and backed away. Wasp drew herself up theatrically.

“Y’know, I’m glad you asked so nicely. I may have gone a little overboard when I was planning this out. It took a little time to get the hardlight holograms to look and work just right. But I don’t regret the effort. I figure you’ll appreciate the fanservice.”

She extended a hand down towards Peggy, and there was a loud hum as the medbay’s holographic projectors kicked into overdrive. An instant later, two tendrils made of something shiny and black erupted from Wasp’s hand. They were fake, of course - they had to be - but they were as real as Wasp, and she’d already proven how dangerous she could be.

And more importantly, within the fantasy Peggy had surrendered to, they were all-powerful. Shadowy conduits of Queen Betalia’s will.

The tendrils looked like they were made of the same kind of latex as the cosplays, shiny and alluring, but they moved like living creatures, snaking towards Peggy before pouncing on her, one on each side of her head, and burrowing deep into her ears.

Peggy shuddered for a moment as she felt something cold and malevolent touch something deep inside her, implanting something there, behind her eyes.

And then, as the holo-stimulant implant came to life, her eyes were drowned in glowing spirals, and she thought about nothing at all.

As she peeked through a tiny crack in the door to medbay and beheld the debauchery unfolding within, Crewman Lori Delaney tried her hardest to keep perfectly still and quiet. She’d come down here after, as usual, feigning sickness to get off her duty shift. Dr. Hiraga was a soft touch; it was usually easy to convince her to provide a doctor’s note and let Delaney rest for a few hours instead of working. Other officers would usually catch on and chew her out, though, so she’d developed the habit of opening the door a crack so she could peek through and make sure nobody annoying was around.

Starship doors weren’t supposed to open like that. Especially not when they were locked. But with a little hotwiring, anything was possible.

Today, she’d found far more than she’d been expecting. Something truly weird was happening in medbay - and clearly, it involved Wasp. Delaney didn’t care about the Inyx’s duty to catch her even a little bit. In fact, she was tired of their uptight bitch of a captain’s constant lectures about it. But that didn’t mean she had any sympathy for a preening, attention-grabbing asshole like Wasp. And given that she clearly already had several members of the crew under her control, there was really only one thing Lori Delaney could do.

She rose silently to her feet and ran off to find Captain Vasser.

---

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[buckysgrace]

Forty Nine

CW: Child abuse, noncon elements (nothing graphic), homphombic slurs, Billy just suffers basically

San Diego, 1972

“Let me see again,” She cooed, rubbing his soft baby cheeks, “Just one more time. Please.” She smiled brighter than the whole sun, with blue eyes as pretty as the ocean. Billy wrinkled his nose up, squinted his eyes and smiled so big that all of his baby teeth were showing. He was missing one of his front teeth and he had spent the day rubbing his tongue along his sore gums. It felt funny and swollen.

“It’s gone!” He proclaimed proudly, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the bench his mother had sat him on. He was still smaller than most of the kids in his class, but his mommy had said that was okay. She’d carry him in her arms most of the way home, right until they reached their driveway. He knew it made his dad mad, but he didn’t understand why. 

“I can’t believe you lost your tooth!” She proclaimed again, keeping his mouth open wide while her eyes searched inside as if he was hiding it somewhere. He giggled at the thought, thinking that it would be funny if he could attach his tooth back in his mouth. 

“It just fell out,” He exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around her shoulders as she picked him up and began the long way back to the house. He wished his dad would join them. He thought that they would all have fun, maybe his dad wouldn’t be so mad all the time if he saw how fun Billy was, “I was pushing on it with my tongue and boom! It fell out!” He held his hands up dramatically as he spoke, smiling big when she pretended to jump.

“Oh my,” She breathed out playfully, pretending to be scared, “You gave me the heebie jeebies!” She told him, tickling his soft side as he erupted into giggles. His backpack was much too large and bounced against his tiny body as she walked. His hair kept getting in his eyes, but he liked it longer because his mom would play with it more. She had stopped putting flowers in his hair after last week when his dad saw her do so. She still had a black eye from it and Billy’s bottom still hurt from where his dad had spanked him with his belt. 

“I’m sorry,” He grinned widely, resting his head against her shoulder as she walked. He liked how she always smelt like lemons. She had started to grow one outside of his window, but Neil had ripped it out some time ago. It made him sad. He liked watching how the leaves grew and the lemons would slowly ripen, “Don’t be scared.” He told her, as he brushed his chubby hand through her blonde hair.

“How could I be scared when I have you to protect me?” She proclaimed as she kissed his cheek again. He smiled, always feeling big and brave when she would tell him that. He wished he really was brave, then he could stop his dad from being mean to her. He dreamed about being grown so his dad couldn’t do that to her anymore. 

“Grrrr!” He put on his best mean face and held his tiny hands into fists to show off his muscles to her. She laughed, sounding prettier than any music he had ever heard. She placed him down gently, but held his hand tightly as they walked up the driveway. Billy bounced up the steps, up through the porch and into their big home. He used to pretend like he was a prince, fighting off dragons and invaders but stopped once Neil overheard him and spanked him for that too. He had called him a fag, only Billy didn’t understand what that meant. Only that it was bad and that he shouldn’t act that way. 

Neil wasn’t home yet, which meant that Billy was free to play as wildly as he pleased. He had a hard time sitting still but had learned to do so when his dad got home. It was hard. Sometimes Billy would have to excuse himself to the bathroom just to bounce around in there to get rid of the energy that bubbled inside of him.

“What did you learn in school today?” She took his backpack from him and placed it away, keeping it in a neat spot so dad wouldn’t complain about it. She sat on the couch, holding her arms out wide and pulling him into her lap.

“Rapunzel,” He breathed out, the L making an odd sound because of his missing tooth, “She had really long hair. Like you!” He told her excitedly, snuggling his head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. He liked afternoons like this, when it was just the two of them. He wished it could be like this more often.

“Like me?” She smiled as she held him, pulling him close to her chest. He liked listening to the sound of her heartbeat and feeling the way her chest would rise and fall as she breathed. He stayed there, sitting comfortably.

“Just like you.” He grinned, wishing that he could stay this way forever. He knew he wanted to be big, but he was afraid that once he was his mommy wouldn’t hold him like this anymore. He didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to be her baby forever. 

When dad got home, things were different. Billy always wanted to help his mom out, but dad would get mad if he saw him doing that. Billy really loved to help her cook but he wasn’t allowed to when dad was here. He was fishing through his backpack, pulling out his spelling words when he remembered what he had made today. 

“Here, mommy,” He proclaimed proudly, holding the picture up towards her. It was messy, full of childish scribbles with different colors and covered in glue in glitter. His mommy still smiled like it was the best thing she had ever received. Joy lit up her face and Billy felt a sense of pride inside of himself, “I made it!” He swayed back and forth, watching the way her eyes analyzed it over and over again.

“I love it,” She breathed out, looking at him with her big pretty smile, “I’m going to put it on the fridge.” The fridge was reserved for special spots. She had told him that when he first started school. He felt excited, the only other thing on the fridge was his school pictures. She walked over, just barely picking the magnet from the fridge when dad was yanking the picture out of her hands.

“What’s this?” He scoffed, looking at it in disdain. Billy felt his smile slowly begin to fall and he stopped moving so much, not wanting to get flicked on the back of his head for doing so. He wiggled his toes in his socks, feeling tense as his father looked it over.

“Billy made it,” She smiled, still thinking that nothing was wrong, “Isn’t it beautiful? I think we have a little artist on our hands.” She looked towards Billy and winked at him. He relaxed a bit, thinking that he didn’t need to be scared if she wasn’t. Dad laughed and for a moment Billy thought that everything was okay. His little heart ripped into tiny pieces as Neil crumbled the paper into his fist before shredding it.

“What kind of pansy shit is this?” Dad laughed before he tossed it in the garbage in front of Billy. He was on him before he could react, grabbing him by his hair and forcing him to look up at him, “I thought I had a son, not a little girl.” He was squeezing Billy’s hair so hard that tears were beginning to form in his eyes. 

“Neil,” She stepped forward quickly, looking at him alarmed, “Jesus it was just a picture.” She sounded angry as she grabbed a hold of his other wrist, trying to force him to let go. Billy never understood. For as much as his dad hit her, she never backed down. She was always talking back, fighting back. 

“Are you going to cry?” He mocked Billy, tugging on his hair tighter and earning a cry from the boy. Tears were rolling down his cheeks now because of how badly it hurt. He was yanking the young boy around like he weighed nothing, “Pussy.” His dad shoved him back harshly, nearly knocking him over in the process. Billy whimpered, reaching for his sore scalp. 

“I’m not a girl.” Billy spoke quickly, trying to defend himself. Dad backhanded him quickly, popping him in the mouth. Billy tasted blood in his mouth as his sore gums burst into pain. His other front tooth felt loose now as he rubbed his tongue along his mouth. Dad glared at him, and Billy found himself running away, his little legs carrying him as he burst into tears. He knew that crying only made his dad more upset and right now his mouth hurt so bad that he didn’t care. 

“Go cry, fucking pussy.” He could still hear his dad even after he shut his door behind him. He cried, curling up into a ball under his blankets as the blood dripped from his lips. He didn’t know why his dad didn’t like him. He had a lot of friends in his class, his teacher said he was a well-behaved boy. He just didn’t get it.

It took a while until the screaming stopped. He was still shaking under his blankets, upset about his picture. He had worked so hard on it; he had been so proud. Billy wasn’t sure how long it was after that until his mommy came into his room. Her nose was bent in an odd way and the other side of her face was now bruised. 

“Sunshine,” She whispered softly, her voice hoarse as she joined him in his tiny bed. They both fit in it as she pulled him towards her chest. He cried, feeling safe in her arms as he did so. He wished he was big again, he wished he was able to make his dad stop being so mean, “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay,” He was sniffling, breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath, “He ripped up my picture.” He replied pitifully. He didn’t really like art that much anyways, but he had worked hard on it. He wanted to give his momma a present. She cooed softly, wiping the tears from his red cheeks.

“I know,” She told him softly, holding him closer to her, “I’m sorry, baby. I loved that picture. Next time, I’ll hide it.” She spoke gently, pushing a blonde curl behind his ear. He hiccupped, nodding his head as she rocked him in her soft arms. 

“Promise?” He asked, looking up at her with teary eyes. She looked down at him, an emotion crossing her face that he didn’t understand. He didn’t like seeing her sad. He didn’t like seeing her hurt. He wished he could take that all away from her. 

“I promise,” She rubbed her finger across his cheek softly, “You’re such a special boy, Billy. Don’t ever forget that.” She kissed his forehead gently. He sniffled again but managed to smile at her, "Come here. I want to try something." She helped him off of his bed and crossed the room until they were in front of the mirror. She sat down and crossed her legs and pulled him onto her lap. He looked in the mirror, noticing how he looked exactly like her. He wondered if that's why his dad was so angry all the time. Maybe Billy was supposed to look like him. He looked in the mirror at his messy blonde hair and red eyes. 

"What?" He turned his head back to look up at her. She smiled down at him, gently placed a kiss on his head and then turned him to face the mirror again. She kept her fingers on his chin softly, keeping him looking forward at the mirror. It felt odd to look at himself for so long. 

"Can you repeat after me?" His blue eyes met hers in the mirror. He nodded his head unsure, watching as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close to her, "I am kind. I am smart. I'm worthy of love." He waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. He didn't really understand the implication of her words, but he nodded his little hand anyways.

"I am kind. I am smart," He smiled at that word, thinking of the various spelling awards he had received in his class. He was only in preschool, but he could read twice as well as everyone else, "I'm worthy of love." He finished his sentence with the nod of his head. His mama smiled brightly, lighting up the whole room. He suddenly couldn't remember what he had been sad about. Everything seemed fine in the world right now with her holding onto him. 

"You're such a good boy," She kissed his cheek again, peppering her lips against his chubby cheek repeatedly and earning a squeal from him. He giggled loudly, wiggling in her arms as she began to tickle at his sides. He tried to squirm away, his cheeks burning from how hard he was smiling, "My sweet little sunshine." She gave him one last kiss on his face before she let him plop against her lap dramatically. 

“Will the tooth fairy come tonight?” He asked innocently, his mouth still red from the blood. He didn’t know if the tooth fairy only visited good boys or girls. He had been excited for Santa at Christmas, until dad told him he had been bad and wasn’t getting anything. His mom had snuck him out for the day, telling him that Mrs. Claus did think he was good. He got a set of toy cars that he had placed neatly on the desk in his room. Dad would routinely come in and swipe them on the floor, criticizing the way that Billy had to have things in a certain order or position. She grinned, pushing more of his blonde hair out of his face.

“I bet she will, I bet she’ll bring you the best gift,” She reassured him, beginning to hum softly. She softly sang their favorite songs to him, as he found himself struggling to keep his eyes opened. He was half asleep against her chest, curled up to her like he was still a baby when she spoke again, “I love you so much.” 

1974

“I don’t understand,” Billy whined into the phone, cupping the phone to fit his face. He tried to think hard enough, picturing it was his mommy’s shoulder he was resting against instead, “Why can’t you come home?” It was getting harder to picture her face. He missed the smell of her, the way her blonde hair would tickle against his nose when she held him. She was always warm and smelt like flowers and the beach. Dad hated when she would hold him, he was always saying he was too big to be held. She would hold him anyway, in secret, and tell him that he would always be her baby. 

He didn’t understand how he was supposed to be her baby, when she was so far away. He missed her, all he wanted was to have her back. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, what had made her leave without him. He was desperate to have her back. Dad wasn’t as mean when she was around.

His dad would be furious to know that he was up this late and talking to his mom. He just missed her so much. It made his eyes water and his tummy hurt. It was like he couldn’t eat when his mom was gone. It had almost been a year since he’d seen her, he’d been counting the days on a piece of notebook paper he had hidden in his desk. She had left after destroying the room next to his. He hadn’t understood, one day she had excitedly told him about how he would be a big brother. He had helped her pick out the colors of the room and had helped her paint when he was back from school. She had taught him how to assemble a crib, how to set up drawers and where the best place would be to position them. Dad had gotten mad one day after he got back from work, grown up talking that Billy couldn’t understand. He had yelled at his dad for hitting his mom and that had only seemed to make everything worse. He had never seen her bleed so much before. She was gone the next day, leaving a letter in place of an explanation. The nursery had been ripped apart.

He clung to one of their last happy memories. She had been cheering him on as he surfed, promising that she would always be there for him. They had spent all day at the beach and Neil had been furious to find out that she had bought food for some of his friends he had met that day. He didn't understand what the big deal was, the girl he had befriended had been so nice. He didn’t think that his momma was lying, he believed her when she said she was in a difficult spot right now. He wanted to help her; he just didn’t know how. 

“Oh sunshine,” Billy could hear people talking on the other side of the line. He thought he heard a baby crying but he wasn’t sure, “Things are just hard right now. Your daddy, I just can’t be around him right now.” She sounded tired and it made Billy sad. He didn’t want his mommy to be tired. He wished there was something he could do to help her. He hated being so little. He couldn’t wait to be big so he could finally stop his dad from being so mean. 

“Take me with you,” He said without another thought, almost demanding, “I can go with you.” His dad was scary, scarier than the monsters his grandma would tell him stories about. She had died a few months ago, right when his dad started to act worse. Billy missed her a lot but had learned not to say anything after his dad had spanked him with the belt after her funeral. Men weren’t supposed to cry, his dad had said.

The phone was silent for a second and Billy feared that he had lost his mommy again, “Your daddy can do a lot better than what I can, okay? I’ll come home soon. I promise. I love you.” She didn’t offer him a chance to protest, to beg and plead for her return. He would change his ways; he would even talk to his dad into acting better. He would do anything to have his mommy back. He was so upset, breaking down into tears in the middle of his room. He was scared suddenly as something filled the inside of his chest. He hated crying. Dad always got mad at him when he cried, he was a man. He wasn’t supposed to. Instead, he tore apart his room. Breaking his toys and ripping up the letters his mother had written to him. When he was finished, he sat cross legged in the middle of his room and stared at the mess around him with his eye that wasn’t swollen shut. He felt better.

He never heard from his mom again.

1977

Billy wasn’t sure why he did it or why he had thought it would be okay. Neil had worked late, and Billy just happened to be up late enough to watch the scary movie that had played. Now, he was shaking under his blankets and feared that something was lurking inside of his closet. Neil had taken away his lamp a few months ago, telling him that he needed to have a strict sleeping schedule and not stay up late.

The wind brushed against his window, knocking against it in the right way that left Billy imagining that he had heard voices. He shot out of bed, his little feet padding against the cold hallway as he made his way to his father’s room. He opened the door without another thought, walking towards Neil’s sleeping form.

“Dad,” Billy brushed his arm softly, “Dad!” He whispered louder, shaking Neil gently until he woke up. Neil brushed at his eyes, looking over at him in anger.

“What is it? What happened?” He was beginning to sit up, about to get out of bed to investigate. Billy felt a sheepish smile form, realizing it was silly to tell him that he feared there was a monster in his closet. He would only get in trouble.

“Can I lie in here? I’m scared.” Billy admitted softly, his voice full of innocence and hope. His dad was a lot of things, but he still took care of him. Neil’s blue eyes hardened.

“That’s why you fucking woke me up?” He cursed, making Billy flinch in the process, “Do you know what time it is? You’re a man. Go back to bed.” Neil responded harshly but Billy was still too scared to fully understand just how angry his father was. 

“Momma used to let me when I got scared,” Billy protested, desperately missing his mom at the moment. She would’ve wrapped him up in a warm blanket and an even bigger hug. She would’ve kissed his forehead and played with his soft curls, telling him that everything was going to be okay, “Why can’t I?” He hadn’t meant to whine; it just came out that way. Neil moved like lightning, gripping Billy’s forearm so tightly and forcing it backwards with a sickening crunch. 

He screamed out in pain, clutching his arm to his chest in horror as tears pooled out of his eyes. His arm burned in stabbing pain, it throbbed as he clung it to his chest in horror as Neil rose from the bed. His father gripped his shoulder tightly, squeezing with such strength that it forced another whimper out of Billy’s mouth.

“Are you going to cry like a little pussy?” Neil snapped; backhanding Billy so hard that he stumbled back. He tried to bite back the tears, but his arm was hurting so bad. He held it out pathetically with his good arm, trying to show his dad that he wasn’t able to move it. His cheek throbbed as he stared up at his father, searching for any sort of remorse, “I’ll give you something to cry about.” Neil yanked on the throbbing arm, leaving Billy howling in pain. He shot backwards quickly, clutching his arm to his chest as he fled his father's room in a storm of tears. He locked his door behind him, no longer fearing imaginary monsters. Monsters weren’t real. People were.

He laid on his bed, curling his knees to his chest and clutching his sore arm to his chest as he licked his wounds. HIs body shook in agony as he willed himself to fall asleep. He figured he had just popped his arm out of place again, his father would fix it in the morning. His pillowcase grew wet as the tears kept coming and he dreamed of his mother coming to save him. 

Neil had only delivered another smack to his young son when he asked about it the following morning. He was still forced to go to school, despite being able to move it. He had spent gym class in the bathroom crying after his sore arm got hit with a dodgeball. He continually thought about his classmate's face and how good it would feel once he was able to hit him again. Billy didn’t even try to tell his father that night, too afraid that Neil would purposely hit his hurt arm. 

Four days passed. Four miserable days of Billy trying to hide his sore arm from his father, from his teachers and hope that it would go back to normal. Neil had stopped smacking him across the face this school year. Billy’s school teacher was nice, but too concerned. She zeroed in on every single bruise he gained, constantly asking what happened and listening to see if his story ever slipped up. Neil hated her. 

“Let me see it,” Billy flinched when Neil approached his room. Billy was clutching his left, swollen arm against his chest. It was throbbing and was warm to the touch. The bruising was a nasty color, “Come on, boy.” It hurt to sit up, but Billy did it anyway. He couldn’t hold his arm out in the way Neil wanted. It hurt to move, and Billy was afraid if he did move it, he’d cry. 

“Doesn’t look that bad,” Billy bit back a cry, he could feel his eyes watering as Neil gripped his wrist. Pain licked inside of his chest as Neil turned his wrist in a way it shouldn’t, “Why are you bitching about it like a little pussy?” Shame and anger brewed in Billy’s chest, and he wondered why his dad even came in here in the first place if he didn’t care. 

“I can’t move it,” Billy hissed when Neil pulled at his arm again. His whole arm was tingling in pain. It had been for the past four days. He had been forced to wear his jackets to school even though it was unbearably hot outside. Neil didn’t like his teacher this year. She was observant, constantly questioning his bruises and asking him to repeat the stories of how he got them over and over again, “Stop!” He yanked away, feeling the tears beginning to spill from his eyes. He scooted himself back to the corner of his bed, clutching his injured arm against his chest. 

“Boy,” Neil glared at him, looking over at him furiously, “Don’t be crying. You’re fine. I don’t know why that teacher of yours worries so much.” Billy whimpered, nodding his head pathetically as his arm throbbed and the pain raced through the left side of his body. 

“Sorry.” Billy breathed out softly, his heart hammering in his chest as he looked up at his father’s matching blue eyes. Neil stared at him for a moment before he leaned closer, making Billy flinch closer into the corner of his bed.

“Let’s go get it checked out,” Neil’s voice was surprisingly calm, and it left Billy’s body tensing in fear. This felt like a trap. Billy wasn’t ever supposed to go to the hospital for his injuries, “Come on, boy.” Billy wiggled slowly from his bed, every movement causing him pain as he slowly stood from his bed. 

Billy was on edge the whole ride there. Neil was being nicer than usual, and it was filling Billy with dread. He was mad, his teacher shouldn’t have said anything. He was fine. He was sure that his arm was just sore and that it would heal in a few days. 

“My son,” Neil was smiling, flashing his smile at the nurse, “He loves sports. He said he got tackled during football at school today and hasn’t been able to move his arm since.” The nurse looked up at Billy with a kind smile. He grew sad suddenly, thinking that she looked a lot like his mom.

“Oh my,” She smiled so nicely that it made Billy’s heart hurt even worse. He hadn’t had anyone look at him like that in a long time, “Tough guy, aren’t you? Do you feel okay to walk? We just have to get a few X-Rays.” Billy looked behind her at Neil, who nodded his head in agreement.

“Sure,” She held out her hand, but Billy ignored it as he hopped up from his seat. He followed her down the long hallways, his blue eyes searching against the white walls. She led him into a darker, cool room, “Sit up there on the table, okay? Who tackled a strong boy like you?” Billy sat on the other table, having to hop a bit for how high up it was. She reminded him of his teacher, always treating him like he was younger than what he was. 

“Someone else.” He said simply. She brought over something that looked like a black cushion as she sat down in front of him. She was all smiles, her face gentle as she listened to him.

“You know, I’m here to help you. Sometimes it’s easier to help if I know the full story.” Her voice was smooth, and kind and Billy searched for anything that might be hidden beneath her features. He lingered, thinking of what it would be like to not get hit anymore or to face his dad’s anger. He hesitated.

“That is the story.” He said finally, feeling his hope crumble inside of him. The nurse's smile never faltered as she watched him, nodding kindly.

“If you remember anything else, let me know.” Billy wished he was strong enough to tell her the truth, but he was afraid. If they took him away from his dad, where would he go? Who would take care of him and control his anger? 

For the first time, in a long time, Billy broke down into tears for no reason. HIs little shoulders shook, and his body heaved as he sobbed in front of this complete stranger. His arm was hurting so bad but what really hurt was his heart. He felt like he was dying, like he'd never feel something so painful again. The nurse leaned forward slowly, wrapping her warm arms around Billy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged as he curled his little body up into her arms. She engulfed him, wrapping him up like she was a warm blanket as he sobbed into her arms. He cried out of anger, out of sadness, and because of his pain. Most of all, he cried because he couldn’t understand why his mom would leave him alone with a monster. 

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, swaying him gently against her when his tears wouldn’t come forward anymore. He was hiccupping, trying to regain his breathing as he nodded stiffly. She pushed his blonde curls from his face and wiped his tears away like his mother used to do. He nodded his head stiffly, thinking of all the words his father would call him if he knew what he had just done. 

“I’m fine,” He mumbled, glancing away from her glossy eyes. He kicked his feet out a bit, swaying them in the air, “My arm hurts.” He mumbled, wanting to draw attention from what he might have been crying about. She nodded softly, wiping a finger across her cheek.

“Let’s get this finished and I’ll get you something for the pain, alright?” Billy nodded his head, listening to the different positions she wanted his arm laid in. He was growing nervous, worried that his dad would somehow know that he would be crying. It was like she knew after she was finished, she cupped his round cheeks softly and smiled at him, “Put on your brave face, alright?” Billy wasn’t sure how to tell her that he had been doing that from the moment he could walk. 

Neil had watched him closely once they returned, but Billy’s story never faltered. He was sure that there was worse than his father and he didn’t want to risk finding out. What he really longed for was his mom. 

“Well son, this looks like a pretty severe break for a fall. You need to be more careful,” The doctor spoke clearly before he glanced at Neil, “We can do surgery to fix it or do a cast.” Neil glanced at Billy, watching him closely for a moment before he answered. He didn't look as mean. 

“A cast should be fine.” Neil smiled towards his young son. Billy stared back, noticing how his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Billy didn’t care what happened as long as his arm stopped hurting so bad. He was still fighting the urge to break down into tears. 

Neil sat with him after Billy got his hand casted. They had let him pick a color and he had decided on blue. It made him think of his mother’s eyes. Billy was proud, he hadn’t cried. Not once.

“You did good today,” Neil’s hand brushed against Billy’s shoulder softly, squeezing. Billy tried not to wince, but it hurt. His dad didn’t know how to do things softly, “I love you.” 

1979

“Don’t worry Mr. Hargrove, Billy is a doll,” Sally leaned against the door as she spoke, wearing a smile on her face. It was rare that his dad went on dates, but he never trusted Billy on his own. It made Billy mad. He thought that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. He’d only be playing on his Atari anyway, “Have a good night!” She shouted after him, waving her hand widely.

Billy thought that Sally was pretty, really pretty. He had a hard time looking at her without feeling his cheeks redden. It was a dumb crush. She had already finished high school and he hadn’t even started yet. She lived a few houses down and had two cats. She had driven him home from school a few times when Neil had to work late. 

“You’ve gotten pretty good at this,” She told him, sitting close to him on the couch. She had dark black hair and long bangs that rested over her eyes, “Next year you’ll be thirteen, that’s a pretty big deal.” Billy had to stop his game, feeling nervous at the unknown feeling that was rushing in him as she moved herself closer to him. Her bare skin was touching his legs. He could feel his eyes widening as he looked at her, uncertain of what she was talking about.

“Why?” Usually, this tone got him backhanded from Neil, but Sally’s glossed lips just turned into a bright smile. Her fingers rested against his shoulder, tracing his tanned skin. He felt like time was slowing down as he watched her, unable to process what she was doing.

“You’re going to be thirteen, that’s exciting. Have you kissed a girl before?” He stared at her, feeling his eyebrows furrowing together as he began to feel defensive. His mom used to peck him on the lips before she tucked him into bed. Surely, that counted. He didn't want to look like he hadn't ever experienced that before. Not in front of her. 

“Yes.” He answered quickly, not sparing another thought behind it. He hid the feeling of his heart racing. He wasn’t going to let himself be nervous, he wasn’t weak. He wasn’t what his dad called him. She grinned.

“You know, you look really mature for your age,” Her breath was thick like honey, it almost smelt similar as her face loomed over his, “Have you ever seen a woman naked before?” He didn’t understand the implications as he shook his head no. He felt like all of his muscles had suddenly run off when she laid him back onto the couch gently. He had no fight in his system as his body froze, his eyes widening as he watched her.

“I just want to teach you a few things,” She whispered seductively, grabbing a hold of the hem of his shorts, “Just relax and follow my lead.”

/////////////////

“Happy birthday,” She whispered, kissing the side of his cheek, “I hope you enjoyed it.” Sally had dressed up for him, but he thought she looked a bit silly wearing that when all she did was take him to an arcade. Billy didn’t even enjoy video games that much, not since Neil had smashed his last system in a fit of rage.

“It wasn’t bad,” He paused, wondering if he should’ve phrased it better, “Thank you.” He added after a second, glancing over at her as she drove. Neil had been more than thrilled that Sally had volunteered to watch him for the day. Billy thought of how funny it would be if Neil knew what Sally was really doing. He figured it would somehow be his fault.

“Anything for you,” She smiled, leaning across the dashboard to kiss his lips, “Do you want to try something new?” She questioned him. He looked over at her, feeling suspicious. He wasn’t sure what new things he could possibly learn. 

“Like what?” He spoke gruffly, always sounding like he wasn’t interested. Sally never seemed to mind, she’d always laugh and pinch his cheek if he got too frustrated with things. He never liked that. It made him seem like a kid and he couldn’t be a kid when he was doing so much more than his classmates his age.

She pulled out a cigarette, passing it to him, “Try it.” She held him place it between his lips, watching with a certain hunger before she lit it. He breathed it in slowly, pretending like his lungs weren’t on fire as he breathed it in. 

“It’s okay,” He sounded just as disinterested as before, but her smile let him know that she knew otherwise. He was sure that he should probably treat her better if he wanted her to stay, but he wasn’t sure how to treat women. Neil wasn’t the best at showing him how to do so, “Tastes kinda gross.” He admitted, trying to hand it back to her.

“Trust me,” She stuck her hand up to stop him, “You’ll look pretty badass if you smoke. You keep it.” She handed him the carton and lighter, smiling proudly like she had just given him the best present he’d ever got. He stared at it, figuring it was better than the smack on the back of the head Neil had given him. 

1980

She was leaving. Sally was going away for college in another state and once again, Billy felt like his little heart was being crushed and crumbled in his chest. His feelings were confusing, mixed and muddled and he didn’t know how to make sense of them. This would be the last time she’d watch him. 

“You can call,” Billy felt almost desperate as he told her. He was still smaller than her as he looked up. He had waited several summers now to finally hit his growth spurt. Although he wasn’t the tallest, he was still able to punch guys that were twice his age and leave them bruised for weeks. He was strong, there was no denying that, “My dad doesn’t have to know.” He had spent the last year wrapped up in her bubble, doing whatever she said. She had treated him like her own little puppet, commanding him to do whatever she wanted without much of a peep from him. 

She had cut her hair short and looked at him as if he was silly. He felt defensive again, thinking about how she always called him mature, “I’m going to find someone my age in college. Someone to marry and have kids with. I can’t call you.” He felt sick as a lump formed in the back of his chest. He hadn’t cried in years, and he wasn’t going to break down in front of her, to prove to her that he really was just some silly little kid.

She was leaving him just like his mom.

“What about me?” He asked, meaning his words as she leaned forward. He didn't want to be alone with Neil again. If he was with her, he had somewhere to be. If she left, he'd be stuck alone again. She squeezed his arms softly, looking at her through dark green eyes. He bit back any tears that had been forming. He wouldn’t cry over her, not over someone who was throwing him away so easily. It was like she knew as her voice became softer as she spoke. 

“Maybe in another life, we could have been together. I love you.” She squeezed his hands softly in hers, looking happy. Look as if she was waiting for him to repeat the words back to her. He almost laughed, feeling the anger forming in the base of his chest as he pulled his hands away from her. She looked as if she was about to start explaining everything to him again, but he didn’t give her the chance. He felt the words forming on his tongue, making sure they were sharp enough to kill. 

“If you think you’re the best thing that’s happened to me you’re wrong. You’re a pathetic little bitch who couldn’t get dick from anyone her own age, so you went to me. I’ll find better,” He snarled at her, teeth showing, “But I will be the best thing that happened to you.” 

/////////////

Neil had found himself a girlfriend, someone who actually didn’t seem to care that she was treated like absolute shit. She made Billy uncomfortable; she was constantly touching him. He’d try and politely brush her away, only in return to get smacked by Neil. He was beginning to believe that she liked seeing him in pain. It was the only way to explain why she continued to do it. He did his best to avoid her, but she somehow always found a way to pry herself into his personal space. He hated it. 

Things did become a bit better around the house. Neil was happier that there was a female in the kitchen. Billy had to listen as Neil ranted and raved about how it was woman’s work. Billy didn’t care. He missed the way he and his mom would make different shaped pancakes in the early mornings. He found himself wondering where she was, what she was doing and if she missed him just as badly. He had spent countless hours flipping through different phone books in the hopes that one day he would find her name. It was getting harder. He could no longer remember her last name. He knew it started with a P and that there was an A and an R in there somewhere. He couldn't remember anything else. Still, he would look over the names intensely. He knew that if he stumbled across her name, he would know it. 

Stacy was nice enough, despite the constant need to touch him. She was making sure that Neil actually went to his games and that he put in effort to do things together. Billy didn’t really like hanging out with his dad. It was like the only thing Neil could talk about was how terrible Billy’s mother was and how Billy was going to end up just like her. Billy was confused, he thought that his mom had been everything. He couldn’t imagine that it would be bad to be like her. 

She had startled him, burst into his room without a warning. He sat up on his bed, looking towards the floor awkwardly. She was wearing an outfit that was similar to the things Stacy would wear for him. It was too revealing, and it made him feel uncomfortable. His whole body felt warm from the embarrassment that was tickling up his spine. He wasn't sure why she would stumble in here dressed like that. 

“Where’s dad at?” He asked finally, breaking the awkward silence that filled the room. She was still lingering in his doorway, smiling at him. He had spent a lot of time in his room after Sally. He didn’t love her, but he didn’t necessarily understand his feelings either. She had left him in some kind of conflicting haze. He didn't know how to make sense of it.

“He had to run into town for a while,” She walked further into his room, lingering at the edge of his bed. He kept his eyes down on his lap, ignoring the way she bent down over the bed, “Hey, don’t be shy.” He almost scoffed at the idea. He was anything but shy, he just wanted nothing to do with her. It didn't matter who his dad brought into their lives, no one would ever replace the hole in his heart that his mother had left. 

“I’m not shy,” He looked up at her in defense, hating anything that made him seem weak. She curled her lips into a bright smile, her eyes tracing over him, “What do you want?” He snapped in irritation as he began to sit up on his bed. He wished that she would go away, leave him alone like everyone else. She pounced on him, straddling his lap before he was fully able to comprehend what was happening. All of the breath left his body, and he suddenly didn't have the energy to move his hands.

"Then why are you being so quiet?" She questioned as she drew her finger down the front of his chest slowly. All he could do was stare. His body felt numb suddenly, in a similar way to when Sally had first taken his virginity. It was like he suddenly didn't know what to do.

"You're with my dad," He urged his hands to move but they wouldn't. It was like there was something pinning them to his sides. He exhaled slowly, trying to will her to get off of him. If his dad came home and seen him like this, with her on top of him, he'd be dead. Billy didn't know how he'd do it, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty. She was still all smiles as she watched him, "Get the fuck off of me." He said rougher, still finding the sharpness in his voice. She laughed.

"Or what?" She was toying with him. Her grin was wide as she observed him, waiting for him to say something. His mind was racing. Didn't she know what would happen? He felt a spike of fear race up his back because he really didn't want this. He didn't want her. 

“I’ll hit you.” He rushed out quickly, not fully thinking of his words as she moved her head near his head and trapped him. Her hair draped over him, tickling against his nose. He suddenly felt sick from the overwhelming amount of perfume she had on. His arms felt weak, and he knew he wouldn’t actually be able to do it. He wouldn’t do the same thing to her that his dad did to his mom. He just hoped his threat worked.

“Oh, Billy,” She smiled slyly down at him, dragging a manicured nail down his chest. His breath hitched and for the first time he hoped that his father would be home soon, “What would Neil do? He’d be so upset with you.” He stared up at her, frozen as he took in her truth. Billy would be in a lot of trouble if that happened.

“I’ll tell him,” He said instead, his palms growing clammy as she reached the button of his pants, “If you stop now, I won’t say anything. I promise.” He felt a lump growing in the back of his chest that was getting harder and harder to swallow. 

“Oh, you’re going to tell your dad?” She grinned from ear to ear, “Who do you think he’ll believe? The son he hates? Or the woman he loves.” Billy felt something sinking inside of his chest as he laid there, unsure of what his option was. Either way, if Neil did find out, Billy would be the one to be blamed. She wouldn’t be touched; it would be Billy.

“Fuck you.” He did his best to snarl at her, but it didn’t sound that way. He sounded sad and he could feel the bitter resentment growing in his chest for himself. He didn’t understand how he could be so pathetic. He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. 

“You’ll enjoy it, just pretend it’s someone you love.” Billy couldn’t. He didn’t love anyone. There was no one out there for him. 

////////////

Billy had a hard time controlling his anger. It had grown so badly that he was sure that he had nothing left inside of him. Only hot, bitter, fiery angry that always seemed to be there, sitting right on top of his chest. Between his dad and Stacy, he hated being at home. He'd rather be anywhere else. 

Summers were beginning to become his least favorite season. School was out and the only thing he really had to look forward to was baseball. He had stopped hoping that Neil would come to any of his games a long time ago. Not that he really cared anymore. Sometimes, he'd wish that his dad would, only so that he'd somehow manage to hit the ball right towards his dumb face. Billy knew he couldn't take his anger out on his dad, so he took it out on everyone else that would cross him. Sometimes they didn't even have to do anything. They'd be walking down the street and Billy would suddenly find his rage unbearable until he was punching them so hard that his knuckles would crack and bleed. 

Neil never asked, never cared enough to check on him unless he got in trouble for it. Billy's teacher had hated him that year and insisted on tattling to Neil over every small instance that happened. Billy spent more time locked in his room, licking his wounds than he ever had. His teacher never seemed to notice when he would come in with a fresh black eye. Or perhaps his teacher did but thought that he deserved it. 

Billy was too young to really work, but Mr. Teller had taken pity on him. He owned one of the local grocery stores and Billy had come along begging to do anything. He could only work two hours a week and was strictly only able to bag the items and push carts. Still, he got a name badge like everyone else, and it made him happy. He was too young to make any friends, but the older women that worked there doted on him. At times he could feel himself stiffening, wondering if they were really being nice or if they just wanted something else like Stacy. He felt the familiar rage forming when he thought of her. She had come into his room last night and smacked him when he tried to tell her off again. Afterwords, he had just laid there, wandering if life was worth living if he'd had to deal with this forever. 

"Honey, where's your parents?" Billy suddenly looked up, too withdrawn in his own thoughts to notice that a girl his age had stepped up to the counter. She was slightly taller than him, her red hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail. Her face turned scarlet as she glanced towards the people waiting behind her in line. 

"Waiting in the car," She bounced her foot as she waited, looking like she expected the cashier to just start scanning away. Billy knew better. Most of the women that worked here were constantly looking for something wrong to happen, "I can go somewhere else." She started to hesitate, looking like she was seconds away from crawling onto the floor and hiding. Billy rolled his eyes as he played with the paper bag resting in front of him.

"You're sure?" Paula watched her closely, her large, rimmed glasses were beginning to slide down her nose. The younger girl nodded, looking over her shoulder again as she cracked her knuckles. Billy felt his nose wrinkling up at the sound, "Alright." There weren't that many items, but Billy noticed the similar great value brands. Neil never bought anything expensive either, he said that it all tasted the same anyways. Billy, of course, had never argued about that. He feared that if he did, Neil may cut his tongue off and make him eat that instead. 

"Can I have my change?" Billy had the two bags packed up. He looked at how the younger girls hand shook as she held one hand out, the other one was already clutching her receipt. Her cheeks were round and rosy, but her eyes were what drew him in. They were hazel, pretty, but she looked like she was sad. He wondered what she had to be sad about. 

"It's just a few pennies," Paula laughed. Still, the younger girl kept her hand out. Billy recognized the same look of fear that crossed his face. Neil wouldn't let him get away with keeping any of his money either. Paula looked disgruntled as she tossed the coins towards the younger girl. He lifted up a penny, handing it to her. He felt bad as he looked at the defeated look on her face as she picked each one up, "Billy, why don't you help her load the bags into her parent's car." Paula sent him a look and he knew that she would want every detail about the car make and model when he returned. 

"Thanks," She mumbled under her breathe as they stepped out into the warm air. The breeze from the ocean was slightly breezy, causing Billy to get goosebumps along his skin, "You didn't have to do it." He shrugged his shoulders, carrying both of the bags. It was probably best he stepped out. He didn't like Paula had treated her, as if she was doing something bad. She hesitated for a moment, glancing back towards the store. 

"Where's your car?' She pointed towards a bike. Billy stared at it, it had a rusted color towards it, and it looked like the wheels were about to pop off. He turned back towards her, "That's a bike." He told her seriously. She shrugged this time, tucking her hair behind her ears as she took the bags from him.

"Thanks again." She spoke quickly, moving fast across the parking lot. He watched for a moment, watching as she squeezed the bags into the basket before she took off. He paused for a moment, feeling as if he recognized her. She must go to his school, he realized, before he walked back inside. He said nothing to Paula, not wanting the young girl to somehow get into trouble for something. 

1982

Billy had tried to grow his hair out. Just barely, just enough so that he could slick it back. Neil had roughly dragged him to the bathroom by his long strands and shoved him into the bathroom before he shaved it all off. There was barely anything left on the top of his head, he couldn’t even see the blonde unless he got close to the mirror. Neil had smacked him afterwards, telling him that only queers cared about their appearance. 

Neil liked to call him a lot of things, but as Billy grew older that seemed to be his favorite slur to swing at Billy. He brought around plenty of girls, always making sure that his dad was around to see them. It never mattered. It made Billy furious. He wasn’t like that, he liked girls. He was sure of it. Yet, he spent many sleepless nights pondering many different what ifs. Nothing made him more furious than being unable to sort out his feelings. It was the one thing that should be his own, yet Neil still somehow had control over that. 

Billy didn’t really have any true friends. Most of them couldn’t handle his spews of anger or the way he acted when he was in a drunken haze. He was too wild for anyone to stay around him for too long, but that didn’t matter. He was popular, people flocked to his side for the thrill of it and he didn’t have to worry about taking anyone down with him. 

Adrian Romano had clung against Billy’s side since ninth grade, apparently the only one that didn’t seem disturbed by Billy’s rash behaviors. In fact, he mirrored Billy in a lot of different ways. He was tall, lanky with jet black hair, hazel eyes and he had two dimples poke out from his cheeks when he would smile. Billy had an easy time talking to him and found himself constantly fighting the urge to get closer to him. It was weird, it made him frustrated. He wished he knew why his heart would race when Adrian would drift near him. 

Billy knew he was fucked the first time Adrian took his shirt off in front of him. He had stared, stared in the same way he stared at a girl that undressed in front of him. When he finally was able to tear his eyes away, his cheeks burned in humiliation. He had panicked, nearly broke down on the ground when he realized his father might be right about him after all. It made him sick, thinking about how wrong everything was.

“You good?” Adrian had asked casually, glancing his hazel eyes towards him, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He was teasing, his familiar smile turning into a lopsided smirk. Billy felt a rush traveling up his spine.

“Fine,” He snapped out of the haze he felt like he was in. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling these familiar feelings towards a boy. Billy was always quick to change or shower in the locker room. Neil left him with too many bruises. As he grew older, people didn’t question as much but he could still see the curiosity in their eyes, “I’m just fine.” Billy wasn’t. He didn’t understand the feelings that were racing through his body. He could hear Neil’s voice in the back of his head, calling him different names.

Billy fumbled in his locker, pulling out a cigarette quickly. He had gotten in trouble last week for smoking in the locker room, but he really needed something to take the jittery feeling away from him at the moment. He lit it up, exhaling deeply to stop his hand from shaking. Adrian stepped closer to him, apparently not knowing the meaning of personal space as his arm brushed against Billy’s.

“Need a light,” He didn’t offer Billy a chance to pull out his lighter before Adrian was leaning forward, pressing the cigarette that was in between his lips against Billy’s lit one. Adrian’s hand just barely brushed against the back of Billy’s neck to keep them steady. Billy felt a spark form inside of him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. The other boy was so close to Billy that he could make out the stubble that was growing around his cheeks, “Thanks.” Adrian smiled, blowing out a puff of smoke towards him. Billy’s lips twitched and he nodded, looking away from his hazel eyes. Something stirred inside of Billy, something that he had only felt when he looked at girls. 

“Okay,” He breathed out slowly, unable to move his feet. Adrian grinned at him, his lips curling up nicely, “Whatever.” He pulled away finally, taking another drag of his cigarette. He could feel Adrian watching him, but he ignored it. He didn’t owe him any explanation for how he was acting. 

Billy found out quick enough that kissing a boy felt the same way as kissing a girl. He wasn’t sure what he thought the difference would be at first. He had hoped there would be some feeling, something that let him know it was wrong. He didn’t. HIs lips moved against Adrian’s in the same urgency he had kissed girls. Their lips melted against each other, soft and slow and almost experimental. Like he hadn’t ever kissed anyone before. 

He hadn’t meant for it to happen. Adrian had cornered him in the bathroom of the party they were currently at. He had demanded Billy tell him why he had been ignoring him. Billy had tried to brush it off, had tried to lie his way out of the situation like he always did. Adrian saw right through him.

“It’s okay to be different.” Adrian had told him, his hazel eyes softening as he looked at Billy’s pitiful form. Billy paused, desperately wanting to believe him but not being able to. He knew what Neil would say, what he would do. Still, Billy didn’t push the other boy away when he kissed him. He melted against his touch, blaming his drunk mind even though he felt fairly sober at the moment. 

“I’m not different,” Billy finally came to his senses as he pushed the boy away from him. He stared at Adrian’s swollen, plump lips. Billy’s heart raced in a way it shouldn’t. He knew this was wrong, but it felt right. He was conflicted, not knowing how to battle the different emotions that were fighting inside of him, “That never happened.” He told him quickly. He did his best to warn him, to sound as threatening as possible. 

“It’s okay,” Adrian’s chest was still rising sharply as he tried to catch his breath,” It never happened.” He promised and Billy ignored the dejected look on his face as he stormed past him. 

It was risky, sneaking around with Adrian. Billy knew what the consequences would be if his father found out. He’d be dead, they’d both be dead. Billy already knew he was damned, he decided that it was fine to risk it. He always went back and forth. One second, he would be fine, the next he would be hating himself. He had never heard of anyone who liked boys and girls. He didn’t understand his feelings, why he was the way he was. He blamed Neil. His dad had beaten him so hard that Billy was sure that he was broken. 

“What if we brought a girl into this?” Adrian had asked one day, mindlessly picking at his food at the lunch table as the world rushed on without them. Billy hesitated, not liking talking about their private life in public.

“What do you mean?” Billy scoffed. He had been with plenty of girls, he wasn’t sure why Adrian thought he knew anyone better. Adrian sent him a lopsided grin.

“Maybe we’d be more comfortable if a girl was involved,” Adrian suggested, twisting his fork into his food, “There’s this really cute girl in my math class. She’s kind of quiet, but I think she’s a freak deep down. I think it would be fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, waiting for Billy’s reaction.

“Is she ugly?” Billy asked him seriously. That was the most important part to him. He didn’t want some ugly girl involved and he had noticed that Adrian didn’t always have the best taste in girls. Adrian shook his head, quickly. 

“She’s cute,” He looked over tables, like he was searching through the crowds of people for her. Adrian stopped for a moment, “There.” He pointed towards the door. Billy looked over, missing her face completely. Instead, he found long legs and red hair. He paused for a moment, still staring even as the door slammed shut behind her.

“She’s a redhead?” Billy looked back towards him, looking at the mischievous look Adrian had in his eyes. He felt himself growing a bit intrigued. He was sure that she was just like any other girl, but he had never been with a ginger before. He was interested. 

“Sure,” Billy shrugged, figuring Adrian wasn’t trying to lie to him, “Ask her.” Billy turned away, feeling an odd sensation traveling up his back. He found himself glancing back over his shoulder, even though she was long gone.

They had waited around for hours on Friday night, Billy sprawled onto Adrian’s couch while the other boy was resting on the bed. She was supposed to be here at eight, but she had never arrived. Billy turned towards him, feeling as bored as he had the moment he stepped into his room. 

“Did you really ask her?” Adrian shot him a glare and turned away to shake his head. Billy’s foot was beginning to tap against the floor obnoxiously. It was getting late. He knew Neil would be pissed if he didn’t return soon. 

“I did,” Adrian snapped back at him quickly enough, “She said she’d do her best to make it, but if she didn’t it was because she had to watch her little sister.” Billy exhaled, thinking about how dumb it must be to have siblings that you had to watch yourself because your parents were too lazy to do so.

//////////

“Who was the girl you were with?” Billy was sprawled out across Adrian’s bed, flicking through a car magazine. He looked up at him curiously, not understanding the point of his question.

“What?” Billy almost laughed, feeling his lips curl up into a smile. Adrian looked anything but amused. Billy had been spending a lot of time here and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. They never did much. Usually they’d make out, occasionally they’d jerk each other off. It was never anything more than that. Billy wouldn’t allow it, everything would become too real then. 

“The girl you were kissing this morning. Who was she?” Adrian looked angry, taking Billy by surprise. He was usually the calm one. 

“I don’t know, some chick,” Billy shrugged, thinking her name had been Carly or Clara. She was a twin, he knew that much, “What the fuck is your problem?” He watched the way Adrian cursed under his breath and looked at him irritated. 

“Why are you kissing other people if we’re together?” The question floored Billy and he could feel the laugh forming on his chest as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m not with you,” Billy told him quickly. He didn’t like Adrian like that, he was sure of it. They were just messing around, that was it, “I don’t like you like that.” He said seriously, not liking the hurt look that Adrian was giving him. He was trying to force himself to stop feeling bad. If he liked Adrian, he was just as bad as what his father had always made him out to be. He couldn't live with himself if he was that way.

“You kiss me.” Adrian said simply, looking like he was trying to reason with himself. Billy took in a deep breath, feeling the conflicting emotions battling inside of his chest. He stared at the other boy, not sure where this was coming from all of a sudden. He thought that they had an understanding. 

“That’s different. I don’t care about you in that way. I’m not a queer. I like girls.” Billy told him slowly, almost sounding like he was trying to convince himself. He meant it though; he didn’t care for Adrian in that way. Billy was straight. He wasn’t what Neil liked to call him. 

“I never said you couldn’t like girls,” Adrian looked at him as if he had grown another head, “But if we’re with each other you shouldn’t be kissing other people.” Billy did laugh this time. He was sure Adrian had lost his mind. He was acting as bad as the girls who expected more of a relationship from him. He didn’t have that to give away. 

“Who said we were anything serious? You’re acting as whiny as the bitches who complain about not getting a second date.” Billy snapped back, feeling himself rise from the edge of the bed. Billy was angry, angry that Adrian was making a big deal out of nothing.

“You’re being a dick,” Adrian began to rise as well, barely towering over Billy, “Seriously, you know this is okay, right?” He looked worried, as if he realized Billy didn’t understand. Billy was almost offended that Adrian was coddling him. 

“This isn’t okay, nothing about this is okay,” He told him seriously, hearing his father’s words echo through his mind, “You’re not my girlfriend. Fuck off.” He told Adrian seriously, not wanting to hear about this anymore. Billy made his way towards the window, knowing he wasn’t going to come over anymore. He couldn’t handle this. 

“Billy, why are you treating me like this? It’s okay, I love you. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Billy gazed up into his green, reassuring eyes for a moment. His thoughts trinkled into a bunch of what ifs and he knew that there was everything to be ashamed of. Neil would never let him live if he knew the truth, if he let this happen. He didn’t believe in love; he was still sure of that. This wasn’t love.

"Just leave me alone," Billy tried to push away from him, unable to bear another second here before he did something dumb. Adrian was built similar to him, but he was taller. Adrian shoved him back harshly, causing him to trip on his feet and land on the floor with a loud thud. His head throbbed from the impact, and he found himself trying to blink the injury away. His hand went to the back of his head and when he pulled it away his palm was covered in blood. He looked up at Adrian as he groaned, an odd pang traveling through his heart, "What the fuck?" He questioned him, feeling the hurt radiating through his body. 

"Billy," Adrian hesitated for a moment, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" Billy swatted his head again. Feeling a fresh surge of anger filling inside of him. He rose on his own, struggling for a moment. He as fighting the urge to beat Adrian senseless. He didn't like that Adrian had laid his hands on him, that he had hurt him. He wondered if it would always be like this. If he'd ever really be happy with anyone. 

"Stay away from me." Billy ignored the throbbing in the back of his head as he pushed past Adrian and made his way back out the window. He didn't speak to him again. He ignored him at school, completely cutting him out of his life. He didn't need Adrian smacking him around on top of Neil. Sometimes he could still feel Adrian's eyes watching him, but he no longer cared about him. Those conflicting feelings were gone. He was happy with that. However, the loneliness sank back in. 

Two weeks later, after the start of the new year, Neil had told Billy he’d met someone new. Someone who was going to change his life. Billy was sure his dad had no idea just how true that was. 

1984

“What are you doing?” He looked at the redhead sprawled across the couch, watching how she shoved ice cream into her mouth. He winced, regretting the question as he noticed her tear-stained cheeks and runny makeup.

“The guy I like took someone else to homecoming, if you must know,” She sniffed, taking another large bite to match her dramatics, “I don’t know why no one likes me here. I’m a loser.” She cried out, somehow even more dramatic than the last time. Billy winced, feeling like he had started something that he wasn’t sure how to explain. He rubbed the back of his neck, remembering how he had pushed Andy, a Junior on his basketball team, against the lockers once he had overheard him talking about Kim. He had shoved him so harshly that the lockers had bent under Andy’s weight. Billy suddenly felt bad again.

“It’s just homecoming,” He started, “It’ll be lame. It’s not even prom.” He tried to reason as he leaned his palms against the couch. She turned to him, sadness pooling in those hazel eyes. He stared as she looked away, wondering if she was ever really happy or was just good at hiding it. 

“Like I’ll be asked to prom,” She mumbled under her breath, apparently full of self-pity tonight, “Max even got a date for her junior dance.” Billy felt his face scowling into anger, still feeling the burning from his bruises from Neil’s beating. Things were still sour between him and Max from the Byer’s house. He still had to drop her off, like nothing had happened. He was sure he hated her. 

“Someone will ask you to prom,” He hesitated before he awkwardly tapped the top of her head, not sure how he was supposed to comfort someone, “You’re just being dramatic.” She shot her eyes up towards him.

“I’m not dramatic,” She exhaled deeply, “I’m sad. There’s a difference.” He felt a grin cracking on his lips as he watched her, too enthused with her actions.

“Do you want some weed?” He walked around the couch, sitting down on the opposite side and spreading his legs across the couch the same way she was. He took up most of the room as her tiny body curled into a small ball. He watched her hazel eyes widen, “It’ll relax you.” He teased her, unsure of why he was sticking around to talk to her. 

“No,” She squeaked out, “I’m too afraid.” She played with her hands, staring down at her lap like she didn’t know what to do. He smirked, pressing his leg closer against her and watching as she squirmed closer to the couch. It was like she didn’t know why he was bothering her either. 

“It’s not scary,” He told her seriously, watching the way her hazel eyes turned curious. He liked looking at her, he realized that he had for a long time. She was like an open book, full of information that he could easily read with one glance. He could tell her emotions easily and found himself searching deeper to try and feel what she was thinking, “I promise.” She almost looked like she was considering it. 

“That’s okay,” She said softly, looking like she felt guilty for telling him no. He had a sudden urge to grab her knees and pull her closer to him, but resisted the urge to do so, “I’m sorry. You’re right I’m dramatic. I don’t even know how to dance.” She brushed him off completely. For some reason, he found himself thinking that her reaction was cute. He paused, thinking that he found her cute most of the time. 

“You can’t dance?” He felt himself smiling, intrigued how she so easily opened up to him. He didn’t even have to pry, “Why not?” He thought it was typical that she would be so upset about not being asked to go to a dance when she couldn’t even dance.

“I never learned,” She rested her cheek against the couch, squishing up against it. She exhaled deeply and Billy drank in every movement, “I’m too embarrassed to try now.” 

“I can teach you.” He nearly kicked himself as he spoke, unsure of why he would say that. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she sat up from the couch, looking towards him in excitement.

“You know how to dance?” She leaned forward, her fingers brushing against his knees. He stiffened, feeling warmth spread through his body. He craved more of his touches, wanting to feel her hands everywhere.

“Yeah,” He exhaled softly, partially hoping that she would forget what he had said. She grinned, stepping over him and rushing to her room. He looked at her curiously, only to be answered when she came out carrying a tape, “Don’t tell me it’s your shitty country music.” He teased her, liking the way she got irritated when he did so. 

“No,” She protested, shooting him a look of brief annoyance, “I have good music. This is a good song. It’s by Elvin Bishop.” She reasoned as she turned the music up again. He shook his head, watching the giddy look on her face as she approached him again. He stared ahead at her, slowly reaching out and placing his hand across her waist. He ignored the tingling that traveled up his body. She took a giant step back, suddenly looking awkward as if she just realized he’d be touching her. 

“No, like this,” He wrapped his hand around her waist, ignoring the way her face burned, “And then we hold hands like this.” He showed her, feeling a spark spreading from their fingertips. He ignored it at the same time he was pleading with himself to stop. He was acting crazy. She was his sister; he wasn’t supposed to be this close to her.

“Better?” She asked unsure of herself, as usual, while they swayed back and forth. Her feet kept nudging against his, but he nodded his head.

“You dance fine,” He encouraged her, not quite recognizing himself as he spoke. She was so soft, so comforting in the air around him. All he wanted to do was wrap her up against him, to kiss her pretty plump lips that she kept biting in anticipation, “I don’t know what you were worried about.” He stared at her hazel eyes, thinking that they didn’t look quite so sad.

“I suck,” She told him seriously, and in reality, she did just a little bit, “But thank you.” Her smile lit up the darkness in his chest like she had placed a flashlight inside of him. His heart beat in a way he didn’t understand or know how to deal with. She was beautiful, inside and out. He felt his eyes drifting across her features as she stared down at her feet, eyebrows scrunched tightly together in concentration. He didn’t understand the feeling that arose when he was around her. It was like he forgot how to breathe, and she was the air he so desperately needed.

“My mom taught me,” He blurted out, unsure of why he was even saying anything. He was sure that she didn’t care, “She used to teach me how to dance in the mornings when she’d make breakfast.” He could feel his cheeks warming as he thought of how dumb he sounded at the moment. She raised those big eyes slowly, looking up at him with a giant grin. He momentarily halted his movements, too busy staring at the way her cheeks got rounder and her eyes grew softer.

“Billy, that’s so sweet,” She said softly, sounding as sweet as candy, “She taught you well.” She complimented. He gulped down hard, swallowing all of his emotions as the lyrics from the radio traveled towards him. He felt a weird rush traveling through his chest, as if he somehow could relate to the song that was playing. 

“It’s dorky,” He admitted, raising their hands above her head and spinning her around. She giggled loudly, the sound ringing in his ears like his favorite song. She swayed against him, moving much easier than before. He traced his fingers along her waist, wishing he could pull her closer towards him, “You’ll be a pro in no time.” 

“Only because you taught me,” She smiled bashfully, and Billy resisted the urge to grab her face and kiss her pouty little lips. It hurt him, thinking that one day she’d be kissing someone that wasn’t him. It was wrong to think that way, but he couldn’t help himself, “Thank you.” She mumbled out softly.

He twisted her again, but this time he didn’t fully turn her around to face him again. Her back was flush against the front of his body, and he almost fell to the floor from the sensation that traveled through his body. He looked at her pink face, noticing the shy way she glanced back towards him. He was swaying her softly, letting his hands travel across her hips and midriff. He was fighting the urge to think of what her skin would feel like flush against his. He wondered what she would sound like. She glanced up at him, looking at him with such joy that he swore he could kiss her. Her lips looked so plump, so soft. He was sure that she would taste as sweet as the candy she always ate. 

“No problem,” Billy was afraid to be the first one to pull away. At least now he had an excuse to touch her. He suddenly felt less shitty about himself as he relaxed against her. She was like a bright light in a dark room, something he had spent his whole life searching for, “I have to go.” He said finally, his heart racing too fast in his chest as he dropped their hands. She looked at him confused, still standing too close to him. He exhaled, trying to drop his irritation. He couldn’t believe all of the girls he’d been with before and it was his stepsister who he decided to actually fall for. 

He left as quickly as he had come, leaving her standing there with those big, confused doe eyes. He desperately wished to hold her again, to kiss her. He shook his head, grabbing his keys without another thought and going anywhere. As he drove away, he was wishing for the feelings in his chest to disappear. He needed space, somewhere to get far away from her. 

1985

Billy could still remember how she looked the night of the fourth. The fireworks had danced across her pale skin, the different colors bouncing off of her as if she were the bright lights in the sky. She had shone twice as bright, looked twice as beautiful as anything he had ever seen. He could still feel the way his heart raced for her, yearning for them to be closer than what they were. He was still in denial of his feelings; his feelings had been confusing for so long. 

He remembered the first time he really knew he was in trouble was the night after he took her virginity. She had stayed with him, even slept with him on the floor after she’d cleaned up his injuries. He couldn’t understand why she kept staying, even after he was mean to her. She was always there, waiting as if nothing had happened. He didn’t understand how someone could be so kind and so good. He didn’t deserve her. He was sure he could live a thousand different lifetimes and he would never deserve her. 

She was like a bright light on a dark night. He was drawn to her, even though he knew he would only bring her down with his misery. The past few weeks, he had felt like he was a completely different person when he was around her. It was nice to pretend, but the night before had been a wakeup call. He could see the look swimming in her hazel eyes. He had been dumb, suggesting a trip to get away. He tried to pretend that they were fine, that there was nothing between them. 

He hadn’t meant it when he told her he loved her. That’s what he had been trying to convince himself. He wasn’t sure why he had said it, but when he looked down at her big, shocked eyes he knew that he had made a mistake. He couldn’t be the person she needed for him to be. She deserved someone that could treat her well and that would never be him. 

He had tried before to place a wedge between them but seeing her with Steve’s arm wrapped around her shoulders had left him with a fire he didn’t understand. Billy wasn’t the type to get jealous, but he was sure that’s what was brewing inside of him. She had looked so pretty, all dolled up for him and he somehow had the gall to reject her. He had surprised himself that night, when he told her he wouldn’t see anyone else. He was still fighting his feelings, playing a dangerous game. 

He had been the one to come up with the stupid rules, yet he had been the one struggling with them for so long. He wished he was a different person, that he wasn’t so afraid to let himself be seen by her. He thought he trusted her, but he still couldn’t fully let her in. He’d give her little bits and pieces of himself, but he’d never let her fully in. He didn’t want her to pity him, to judge him. There had been too much that had happened. He wouldn’t be able to explain it to her. 

He wished the hurt in his chest would go away. He wished he could erase the image of her on her knees crying for him. His tongue burned from the harsh words he had spoken to her, but he knew it needed to happen. She wouldn’t ever believe him if he didn’t say tell her off. He took another deep breath, trying to control his breathing. She was right to question him, right to call him out for everything he had said. She knew his feelings better than he knew his own and that infuriated him. He didn’t like feeling like there was something out of his control, like there was something about himself that he didn’t understand. She had been so sure, and it wasn’t her fault, but it made him sick. He wanted to be the one to sort out his feelings first, to feel like he had some kind of control over the situation. In the end, it was his fault. He had treated her differently. He hadn’t ever been with her the way he had been with anyone else. Deep down he thought he knew what the answer was, but he wasn’t sure. He still wanted to believe that he had some choice in the manner. 

“We were supposed to be different!”

She was right. They weren’t supposed to end in some tragic way. That hadn’t been his plan. They were supposed to move on like nothing had happened, like there was nothing between them. There wasn’t supposed to be anything between them. 

He thought of that morning, how he knew deep inside of his chest that it was time to let her go. He hated the thought of it, but she had grown attached. He had to let her go before it hurt too badly. 

“You look like you slept well,” He had teased her when she finally returned to the bed from brushing her teeth. He felt a stroke in his pride, noticing that she had a slight limp in her walk, “Morning.” He told her softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He noticed she always woke up later than what he did. 

“Morning,” Her cheek was squished against her pillow, her words becoming muffled as she spoke. His chest had been hurting from last night when he realized she had a familiar look in her eyes, “Why are you so far away?” She teased him, brushing her hand across his exposed chest softly. His whole body reacted in flames as he watched her. It was a constant battle as he fought himself from sinking against her. 

“Just tired,” He mumbled, lying to her. He was having a crisis. He feared that this trip had been a mistake and now their cards were on the table. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t be there for the way that she would need, “Don’t worry about it.” He winced, knowing his words were a lot harsher than what he meant for them to be. She didn’t seem to react at first. 

“Okay,” She spoke like she was in a dream. He wondered if they both were and they’d awake to something cruel. He memorized the freckles on her face, wondering if he could count all of them that decorated her body, “I feel happier when I’m with you.” She admitted softly, like she was scared to say it. He realized that she should be. He could read into her confession and that only seemed to draw him further away. He didn’t know how to make her happy. 

Billy didn’t know how to love.

His idea of love had been complicated. He used to watch his father kiss his mother gently after leaving her a sobbing, bloody mess on their tiled floors. His mom used to end every phone call by telling him how much she loved him, and she still left him. Neil would still tell him that he loved him after leaving him with swollen eyes and bloody noses. 

She had tried to convince him that everything would be fine, that they could somehow pretend to be happy together. He was fine now, but how long until he spiraled again? He didn’t want to drag her down with him. He didn’t want to cause her pain, but he knew that he would eventually. It wasn’t her fault, none of this was her fault. It was all his. 

He had slid the picture of the two of them from Chicago into his dresser, placing it with the other pictures he had taken of her. It felt odd, looking at it now and not recognizing himself in the frame. He hadn’t ever looked so happy, so carefree. It made him sick. He had ruined it, like he ruined everything else. 

He reached for the little black book in his dresser. It had been discarded for some time. Even if he did get with other women, all he would think about is Kim. She was always there, nestled away in the back of his mind like his favorite memory. He wanted to forget.

He paused for a few minutes before he touched her face in the picture. She looked so happy with her big cheeks and soft dimples. He wished he could kiss her face one last time. She really was a good kisser, and he loved the way she always seemed to melt against him. He hoped that he had memorized the shape of her body, the way her laugh sounded in a crowded room. He stared at her eyes last, feeling a punching feeling travel over his stomach when he realized she didn't look so sad at the moment. She looked so happy. He closed the drawer slowly before he stood and made his way out into the hallway.

He couldn’t help but peek into her room and wasn’t surprised to find that it was empty. He had heard her stomp off and slam Max’s door shut. It had been hours and had since grown dark. He hoped that she was asleep, it would be easier to sneak out without having to see her. Still, he paused in her doorway and looked at her bed. The two stuffed animals he had gifted her still adorned her bed. He exhaled deeply before walking towards the phone.

It rang for some time before the familiar woman’s voice answered, “Hello? Who is this?” Her voice was irritating to him for some reason. He knew why, it wasn’t Kim’s. Still, he ignored the hurt in his chest as he put on his best charm.

“Can you guess who?” He closed his eyes as he flirted, wishing that he hadn’t been so dumb. He wished things hadn’t gotten this bad.

“Billy,” He could hear the smile in her voice, “What are you calling for?” She sounded confused and Billy couldn’t blame her. He had done his best to ignore her and all the other women in his life since Kim stepped forward. He bit his lip.

“I was thinking of you,” He lied easily as he cupped the phone to his face, “How about we meet tonight. The usual spot?” He knew she would agree, he knew that she would be the easiest one to go for. He was right, she agreed easily, and he was hanging up the phone. He stared at the wall for a long time, wondering if his decision was worth it. 

“Where are you going?” He winced, closing his eyes tightly at the sound of her voice. He turned, almost slowly as he looked at her. He felt the wound in his heart opening up at the view of her. She looked fragile as she leaned against Max’s doorway, her hazel eyes wide and red. Her cheeks were tear stained and she looked like she was in disarray. His chest hurt, realizing he had been the one to do that.

“Out.” He spoke simply, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He stepped away from the phone, feeling sick with guilt suddenly. He wondered how much she had heard. Her eyes traced over his features, like she was searching for something hidden behind his words.

“Why don’t you love me?” She said suddenly, breaking the quiet tension between them. He felt a lump forming in the back of his throat. It was almost too much to swallow. She sounded heartbroken, like she’d never be able to get over him. He knew it wasn’t true. He knew she’d find someone better, she just had to realize that.

“Kim,” He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say, “It’s not that.” He knew if he only told her how wonderful she was, she wouldn’t believe him. She stepped closer, pushing her way down the hallway as she watched him with those eyes that seemed to be even more sad than usual. He looked away, unable to look at them and know that he was the one to cause it. 

“Then what is it?” Her voice wobbled as she spoke. He stared at the ground, listening to the way her soft footsteps approached him. He exhaled deeply, fearing that he might break down in front of him. The truth was that he didn’t know. He didn’t know why he had to ruin the one good thing in his life. There was something about him that didn’t seem to be truly happy unless he knew that he was suffering. There had to be something bad in life happening for him to be content. He didn’t know how to be happy. He couldn’t be the happy person that she wanted him to be.

“We agreed on no feelings.” He defended himself, trying to think of the best way to make her leave him alone. It was too hard, standing in front of her and not being able to hold her. He didn’t like the feeling that his chest seemed to be hurting worse.

“Then why would you tell me you love me? Why would you make me feel like I’m special? I know how I feel, Billy.” She demanded, a soft tear falling down her cheek. He felt his hands moving but he quickly dropped them to his sides, pretending to dig through his pockets instead. 

“It’ll pass,” He reasoned, still neglecting to look at her, “It always passes.” He told her truthfully. No one had stuck around in his life; she wouldn’t be any different. He kept trying to convince himself that this was the easy way to end it. It would be better before either of them got too attached. 

"Do you think I could forget you?" She spoke so softly it took a moment for him to hear. His heart beat roughly against his chest as he stared at her, unsure of what he was supposed to say. He knew that eventually her feelings would change. She would wake up one day and realize how much better he deserved. He couldn't stick around for someone else to leave in his life. Not her. He'd never get over her. 

"Everyone forgets about me." He admitted after a second. The look she gave him nearly brought him to his knees. She looked so broken at the moment and it hurt. It hurt to know that he had been right, that one day he would end up like his dad. He didn't want her to hurt, he wanted to take it all away from her. But this was for the best. 

“Why do you want to torture yourself?” She asked, her voice breaking again, “I know it’s messed up. This whole thing isn’t normal, but it happened. We could be happy. I know we could.” He stared at her, wishing he was strong enough to believe her words. He didn’t know how they could ever be happy. They’d have to go far away from Hawkins and even then, they’d always know the truth. Things could happen and their truth would be revealed. He didn’t care what people thought of him, but he knew she did. She was too sweet, she wanted everyone to like her. He didn’t want her to be an outcast because of him. 

“You don’t know shit about me,” He told her seriously, “Whatever person you have cooked up in your head, isn’t me.” He tried to reason with her, tried to have her make her own sense before it became too much. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she wasn’t backing down. 

“It is you,” She sounded desperate, and he hated it. He hated that he was the one making her feel this way, “You don’t want to accept that you’re a good person. You are.” She reached for him, but he pulled away again. He hated the look that crossed her eyes. Things were tense, quiet as he debated with himself. He had reached his end; he knew things weren’t going to get better from here. He'd lose his temper eventually and it would only make things worse. 

“Is there anything else you need from me, or can I go now?” He finally asked, letting the air leave his chest. She stared at him in disbelief, looking more frustrated than he had ever seen her before. She looked like she was about to argue, but he beat her to the crushing blow, “I have a date.” 

The house turned cold, like he had just burned all of the warmth between them. He clenched his fingers into fists, trying to ignore the hurt that crossed her face. She looked to be in anguish, in more pain than the night she had received the large gash on her hand. Her eyes glazed over again, and he didn’t miss the way her bottom lip wobbled. He felt shame and guilt swimming inside of his stomach, making him feel sick with himself. He was terrible, maybe now she’d finally realize that and stop pretending. He waited for her to say something, but she only stood there. She was watching him like she didn’t recognize the person in front of her. He knew she finally had the truth; this is who he was. There was no point in pretending anymore.

Billy had thought his heart had been gone for so long, he hadn’t believed he still had one until she came into his life. She had sparked something inside of him that he thought was dead. He was sure he had broken hers. He had taken all of her that was good and kind and broke it, shattered it on the floor into a million tiny pieces. She had tried to put on a good front, but he could see right through her. It hurt worse than any of Neil’s punches. He had never felt so shitty before in his life. He hated himself as soon as the words left off of his tongue.

He was unlovable.

“Okay,” She said at last, sounding like she was seconds from breaking down into tears, “Go have fun. Go drink yourself stupid and fuck whoever you want. That’s your right. If you want to ruin this, ruin it. It’s clear I can’t stop you.” He didn’t like the way her words dangled over his head. It almost felt like she was giving him an ultimatum. He stared at her for a long time, watching the way she kept gulping hard to keep herself from bursting into tears. 

He didn’t have a response for her, so he turned on his heel and let the door slam shut behind him. He couldn’t be in that damn house anymore. He couldn’t stay thinking about the feelings and all the different what ifs. He wanted to forget everything that had happened. He wanted to forget that this was all his fault because he was scared. 

It hurt knowing that he couldn’t ever be what she needed. He’d forever regret that. 

////////

Tommy was having a small get together in preparation for another party he was throwing the upcoming weekend. Billy really didn’t care as long as he got drunk. He was nursing a beer, hiding in the corner of the room and doing his best to ignore the sad eyes Tina was sending him. 

“I can’t believe you slept with-“ Billy shot Tommy a warning look as he approached him. Tommy held a hand up innocently, laughing as he did so, “Sorry. I didn’t realize that was a sore topic.” Billy glanced over at him.

“It was a mistake,” He breathed out, not drunk enough to ignore the guilt in his stomach. He took another large gulp to drink away the image of Kim’s sad eyes, “It’s not happening again.” He breathed out slowly.

“Did you break it off with the one chick then?” Tommy leaned against the wall, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke. Billy frowned, thinking that Kim deserved better than to be referred to as that chick.

“She told me she loves me.” Billy said finally as he took another drink of his beer. He feared he’d need something stronger to get through this conversation.

“Shit.” Tommy looked at him with wide brown eyes, like he couldn’t believe it himself. Billy exhaled softly, feeling the conversation course through his mind again. He was like he was being tortured. He hadn’t been able to forget her yet, it was driving him insane. 

“Yeah.” Billy said finally, watching the way people were dancing around him. It made him sick again as he thought of her. He wondered if she would’ve liked to join him, or if she would’ve felt like she had to babysit him again. She should’ve left him in a drunken stupor that night, let him wake to his own filth. Instead, she had bathed him. He inhaled deeply, reaching for Tommy’s cigarette as the memory came flooding back. He didn’t deserve that. 

“You didn’t say it back?” Tommy sounded almost surprised. Billy shot him a look, shaking his head in irritation. Tommy knew better than to ask Billy that. It was insane to even think that he’d be able to say it back.

“I don’t love her.” He spoke and felt a numbing feeling settling across his chest. He stared ahead, trying to drown the dumb music that was playing around him. He locked eyes with Tina for a moment but turned away as he thought of Kim again. He wondered what she was doing, if she was still locked up in her room crying. 

“Dude,” Tommy trailed off for a moment, “It’s obvious you do. You’ve been acting differently recently.” Billy rolled his eyes, irritated that Tommy kept bringing that up. He had heard about it all summer and it was starting to get on his nerves.

“You don’t even know me.” Billy told him stubbornly, knowing it was the truth. He may consider Tommy as a friend but that didn’t mean they were close. He kept him at arms distance at all times, just like everyone else.

“I know you do dumb shit when you’re mad,” Tommy laughed as if he was thinking of a different memory. Billy watched him closely, “You’re stubborn as well.” Billy was sure everyone knew that, he wasn’t very impressed with Tommy's knowledge. No one really knew him and that was partially his fault. He didn't need that many people close to him. He was better off alone. 

“I don’t like her like that.” Billy retorted, urging the memory of Kim to die inside of his chest. He wondered if whatever was left of his heart would die too. He leaned back against the wall, trying to think of anything but her. Instead, he kept imagining the cute little dress she would've worn if she had come with him tonight. How she should've been glued to his side. How they would've been a bit too obvious about how they feel. 

“Who's the lucky bitch anyways?” Tommy questioned with a smirk on his face. Billy snarled, feeling angry that he would refer to her in that way. Kim was anything but that. She was kind and gentle. Even with everything that he'd done, he'd never really seen her get that angry with him. She was delicate and he only knew how to break things. 

“Don’t call her that,” He snapped, looking at Tommy in anger, “It doesn’t matter, it’s over.” Tommy was quiet for a moment as they passed his cigarette back and forth. Billy focused on breathing in and out, willing the ache in his chest to disappear. It was like she was right here at this moment. Like a piece of her had broken off and followed him. He couldn't get any peace. 

“You know, I think you should let me have a chance with Kim,” Billy’s head snapped so hard to the right he nearly smacked into the wall. Tommy had a small smile on his face, looking a bit too happy at the thought of Kim, “I know, she’s your sister and whatever that fucking rule is but she’s so sweet.” Billy could feel the anger fueling inside of him. He clenched his fist together and tightened his jaw, fighting the urge to punch him. Tommy was just as bad as leaving girls high and dry. Not to mention, the thought of Kim being with anyone else left him shaking. He still routinely got upset when he would think about Steve's arm wrapped around her shoulder in the movie theater. The way her face had gotten so red. He wanted to be the one that left her flustered, not anyone else.

It was confusing. 

“She’s not my sister.” Billy was more than irritated now. He wasn’t sure why that was the thing he wanted to say, but he did. He had never thought of Kim in that way. He was slowly beginning to accept Max as his dumb little sister. Kim would never be. She was something else, something more to him. He drank again, feeling his can growing emptier. He needed another. 

“Then why do you-,” Tommy paused, stopping himself as he looked at Billy’s irritated form. Billy glanced away from him, not liking the way he was watching him, “Oh shit. Shit, no. Are you serious?” Billy looked at him alarmed and glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t talking about someone next to them. His heart seemed to skip a beat when he glanced back at Tommy.

“What?” Billy questioned him, not liking the nervous feeling that was settling inside of his stomach. Tommy just stared at him, his freckled cheeks reddening. Billy stared right back, daring him to mention whatever he was thinking. They had been careful. There was no way Tommy of all people could suspect anything. 

“You and Kim?” Tommy finally choked the words out. Billy stared at him hard, feeling himself stiffen against the wall. He paused, realizing that he may have let Tommy get too close to him. His pulse quickened but he kept a calm face as he glanced towards him again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Billy felt another spark of anger as Tommy was quick to shake his head, like he had the right to disagree with him, “I would never get with her.” Billy snapped, trying to keep himself as calm as he could manage. Tommy had a small grin on his annoying face. 

“Good, because you know she really is cute. I like redheads. Sad girls just always spread their legs so much easier, I bet my cock would solve all of her worries.” Anger flashed through Billy, and he was reaching for Tommy’s collar before he could stop himself. Tommy was laughing again, patting his shoulders to stop him, “I’m just fucking with you.” Billy exhaled deeply, not liking that he had been exposed so easily.

“Fuck you.” Billy told him seriously, trying to think of a way to defend his actions. He was trying to think of an excuse, trying to think of a way to deny everything that Tommy had just been right about. He could bring up that she was his sister again, but something in Billy felt tired. He couldn't find the energy to say anything suddenly. 

“I’m not judging, if she was my sister, I’d fuck her too.” Tommy spoke with a laugh, but Billy could tell that he wasn’t joking. Billy exhaled deeply, shaking his head as he took the last drag of the cigarette. He put it out against the wall for good measure, making sure that Tommy was watching him do it. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, but he trusted Tommy not to say anything. 

“I’m going to punch you.” Billy grumbled out, meaning it seriously. He wasn’t sure what he had done to make Tommy suspicious, but he didn’t like how he basically knew the truth. He decided he would keep this from Kim, not wanting her to end up freaking out again. He suddenly wondered if she'd even get upset, since she apparently had such strong feelings for him now. He had a feeling Tommy wasn’t going to let him deny anything either. His grin only seemed to grow as he watched Billy’s irritated features. 

“You know I get it; I mean I had a cousin who I accidentally slept with.” Tommy spoke up randomly. Billy felt his nose scrunching up as he made a face. Billy didn't have any cousins, as far as he was aware, but didn't understand how you'd sleep with someone who was actually related to you. Billy supposed he wasn't much better at the moment. 

“How do you accidentally sleep with someone?” Billy wasn’t sure why that was his first question and not why his friend had slept with his cousin. Tommy exhaled, looking like he regretted saying anything. His brown eyes darted around this time, checking to see if anyone was listening. 

“Well, the accident was that I didn’t know she was my cousin.” Tommy admitted, talking with his hands as he took a drink from his beer. Billy fought the urge to laugh, unsure of why he found it so funny. For a moment he thought about teasing him, wanting to ask him if that's why Carol had dumped him this time. He kept quiet, realizing Tommy had accepted his answer. 

“That’s fucked.” Billy told him seriously, raising his eyebrows as he watched Tommy’s freckled face grow red. Now, Tommy was the one who looked irritated.

“Says the one whose fucking his sister.” Tommy shot back, looking just as irritated. Billy shook his head, stifling a laugh into his hand as he brushed his fingers across his lip.

“Not my sister:” He shook his head, wondering why he was having this conversation in the first place. He felt weird, slightly better. He had a sudden urge to tell Tommy everything he had done wrong. He wondered if his friend would know how to fix it, how to fix him. 

“What’s going on?” Chrissy appeared, smiling up brightly with her big blue eyes. She had two beers in her hands, reaching them towards the two boys with a big smile. Billy took it without a word, quickly turning to Tommy and giving him a warning look.

“Billy's lovesick,” Tommy pinched his cheek playfully, leaning against him as he did so, “He just won’t admit it.” Tommy fake pouted as he patted Billy’s cheek. He shoved his shoulder hard, knocking Tommy off as he scoffed and opened his new beer.

“Oh, who?” Chrissy looked excited, like she had just woken up to a pile of gifts underneath the Christmas tree. Billy shook his head, feeling a new wave of annoyance settling over him. He wished he hadn’t opened his mouth in the first place.

“Doesn’t matter,” Billy grumbled under his breath, "And I don’t love her.” The words hurt his chest as he spoke, but he ignored that feeling too. Tommy was smirking from ear to ear as he watched him. 

“I could help you,” Chrissy was grinning in excitement, “Do you want to make her jealous?” She was practically bouncing as she spoke. Billy felt a smile forming, despite the odd feeling in his chest. He thought that Chrissy and Kim would be good friends if they had the chance. He shook his head no, remembering how Kim had been around Tina. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

“I think he’s denying his feelings for her,” Tommy patted Billy’s chest with a smirk, “He doesn’t want to admit it.” Billy tried to ignore the ache that throbbed in his chest as Tommy’s hand brushed against his heart. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes in frustration before he opened them again. 

“Oh, you just need to tell her,” Chrissy spoke up eagerly, “What’s the worst that could happen?” She offered, looking like Billy had just said the most romantic thing ever. Tommy opened his mouth first. 

“Well-”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Billy glared at him, keeping him quiet from blowing their cover. He might not care at the moment, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care for how Kim would react. She would freak out if anyone knew the truth. He didn’t want to scare her, “I’m not lovesick. I don’t do love.” He shrugged his shoulders as he opened his beer. 

“Sounds sad,” Chrissy made a disappointed face. If only she knew how sad his life actually was, “Who is it?” Chrissy tried again, digging for any details she could get her hands on. 

“No one that’s here,” Tommy spoke up again, “Ow!” He rubbed at his side, where Billy had just hit him hard. He was getting irritated again, wishing that the conversation would divert away from him. The more he thought about Kim, the more his heart hurt. He hated the feeling that was racing through his chest at the moment. It was making him feel angry and bitter. 

“Why are you all up in my business anyways?” Billy huffed out, feeling irritated that the topic was still on him. He didn’t like talking about stuff like this. He sounded like a dumb bitch that was mulling over someone. He wasn’t like that.

“Because you’re making yourself miserable when you don’t have to.” Tommy shrugged his shoulders, as if it was that easy to decide. Billy felt his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Chrissy asked, completely naive to anything else that was happening. He shook his head, fearing he would snap if they kept on him like this. 

“I’m not miserable,” He defended himself as he took another drink. He needed something stronger, something that burned when it entered his system, “I’m happy.” He did his best to smile as the other two just continued to look at him. 

“You know,” Tommy nudged him again, earning an exaggerated sigh from Billy, “You deserve to be happy too.” Billy stared at him for a long time, wishing it was that easy to accept his words. He wished he had the ability to just forget everything else in his life that had happened. If he got with Kim, he’d have to tell her everything. There could be no secrets between them, he knew that. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to open that can of worms. He had a lot hidden, that only he knew about. He wasn’t sure if he could share it with her. Surely, she’d hate him once she found out about everything that he had done. He didn’t want to look into her disappointed eyes and listen to her tell him that she had changed her mind. He couldn’t take that heartache. 

“I don’t want to talk about her,” He hissed out, “I came here to do anything but talk about her. So, can we stop? Please.” They both watched him for a moment in silence. Billy finished the rest of his beer, chugging it down as he urged to feel the familiar buzz throughout his body. 

“Well,” Chrissy drew out slowly, “What can we do to help?” She looked towards Tommy encouragingly, like there was some grand plan to somehow make Billy feel better. He appreciated her trying, but help wasn’t something that he needed. He knew there was no help for him. This was his fault; it was his problem. He didn’t need anyone; he was used to being alone. They both stared at him though, like they were waiting for his word. He shrugged, knowing the only thing he wanted to do was forget. He was sure Neil and Susan would be home soon, but he didn’t care. He felt like a beating was what he deserved anyways. He’d deal with that later. 

“Stop talking about her.” Billy said honestly, still craving the urge to forget everything that had happened. He oddly found himself thinking of how she would gently play with his hair. His body twitched at the memory, and it was almost like he could feel her gentle hands at the moment.  Tommy hesitated for a second.

“You know, not talking about her isn’t going to help,” Tommy glanced towards Chrissy and lowered his voice as he leaned in closer to Billy, “You know you have to see her every day, right?” Chrissy leaned in closer, looking offended as she missed out on crucial details of their conversation. Billy exhaled deeply.

“I’m well aware of that.” Billy grumbled out, already planning how he was going to avoid seeing her. He could move out, but he didn’t want to. She was still keeping him there, even if he couldn’t be with her. He didn’t want to completely lose her. 

“That means that any time she brings someone over, you’ll have to hear.” Tommy told him seriously, gauging his reaction. Billy scoffed, knowing that Kim wasn’t the type to do that. Knowing her, she’d panic over bringing anyone home. Not to mention that she currently lacked a door to her room. 

“She’s not like that.” Billy insisted, watching the amused look that grew on Tommy’s face again. Billy felt another urge to punch him. 

“She wasn’t, because she had you,” Tommy said seriously as he motioned towards Billy with his hands, “She can be with anyone she wants now.” He said seriously. Billy felt his nose flare at the thought of Kim with anyone but him. He quickly tried to relax himself, but Chrissy had caught on easily to his angry features.

“You can’t get mad at her for hypothetically getting with someone when you say that you don’t care about her.” Chrissy said softly, like she was delivering a blow to him. He knew it was dumb, he knew it didn’t make sense.

“She deserves someone better.” Billy shrugged his shoulders, feeling his shoulders stiffening in defense when Tommy pretended to gag. Chrissy made a face, then shoved him.

“Be nice,” She told Tommy seriously before she looked back at Billy, “I’m sure she’s smart enough to decide who’s worth her time and who isn’t.” Billy wanted to say that she was smart enough for a lot of things, but she didn’t know what love was. Not truly. He didn’t want to ruin love for her. 

“You don’t understand.” He exhaled softly, trying to think of a way to explain how he was feeling. He wasn’t good at this part. 

“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit,” Tommy was laughing, “You sound like an ass. You don’t want to be with her, because you think she doesn’t deserve you? I think she can make her own decisions.” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Why would I ask you for relationship advice in the first place?” Billy questioned him, knowing the full truth of what had happened between Tommy and Carol. Tommy paused for a moment.

“Touche,” He was still grinning, rolling the comment off of him easily, “If you don’t want to be with her then you can’t get mad if she gets with someone else.” Billy was simmering in his anger, waiting for his top to blow.

“Thanks for reminding me again.” He spoke dryly. If he tried hard enough, he could get with any of these girls and pretend they were Kim. A little pretending wouldn’t hurt him that much. 

“Well,” Tommy looked at him seriously as Chrissy glanced back and forth between them, “I don’t think you fully realize that.” Billy was well aware of what he meant. He’d get over it. It would be hard, but he could. 

His stomach dropped again as he thought of her. He thought of her big hazel eyes, her bright smile and the way her body reddened so easily. He could still hear her laugh and the way her body molded against his perfectly. He used to hate how he thought she fit around him perfectly, but she did. He thought of the cute outfits she wore, how she intensely did her makeup and willed for him to notice her. He wondered if she’d go back to Steve. He’d be stupid not to get with someone like Kim. She was completely different from anyone he had ever met. He didn’t want to lose her, but it felt easier to let her go now than hurt her in the future. 

“Billy, you deserve love like everyone else.” Chrissy said softly, looking up at him with bright blue eyes. He stared at her for the longest time, wishing that it was just that easy to accept. If he was going to let anyone love him, it would be Kim. He felt sick again and he willed for the feeling to leave him. He had to distract himself from the thought of her.  He moved forward, dropping his empty beer to his side as he pulled Chrissy’s small hands into his large ones. He pulled her closer, watching the way her blue eyes widened. 

“Dance with me.” 

[delta-orionis]

Tuesday Again No Problem 7/23/24

my thumb hurts (did too much crochet)

(I got a few new followers this week, so let me explain: this is a weekly roundup inspired by @girlfriendsofthegalaxy's post series of the same name. It's basically a summary of what I've been up to this week.)

Listening:

I dipped back into Touhou remixes with the House Set of Subterranean Animism, by Kuroneko Lounge:

This artist has made remixes of the soundtracks of all of the Windows Touhou games (to my knowledge at least), and this album is my favorite. It contains remixes of all of the songs from Touhou 11, Subterranean Animism, which is a personal favorite of mine. This album in particular is the strongest of the Kuroneko Lounge's House Sets, in my opinion.

It starts off VERY strong with a pulsing electronic remix of the main title theme, and keeps the energy up from there. In this video version of the album, there are also random "glitches" in the music which I'm pretty sure the artist placed in there intentionally.

Without getting into the plot of Subterranean Animism too much, one of the important characters has powers related to the manipulation of other peoples' subconscious. This makes her effectively invisible, because you can never perceive her intentionally, and if you do actually meet her, those memories will quickly fade away, like a dream. I believe the audio glitches are meant to represent her presence (and they also kind of snap you out of it if you're no longer paying attention to the music). Some people may find the glitches annoying, but I think they're a nice thematic touch.

I used to REALLY like the Touhou games when I was a teenager. I haven't played any of the games in years, but I occasionally revisit the soundtracks because the music still holds up. I honestly think the music is the strongest facet of the series, especially with such an enormous remix community.

Watching:

I spent a good amount of time this week re-visiting Jenny Nicholson videos while I crocheted (more on that later). Her Evermore video is one I return to periodically:

The story of this park is such a fascinating train wreck, especially in the wake of the news that the park is shutting down (for REAL this time. apparently).

Playing:

Fallow week. I've been extremely busy with work, errands, appointments, chores, artfight, etc etc. I keep taking my Switch with me to work with the intention of playing on my lunch break, but I always end up doing something else (usually drafting answers for my ask blog, more on that in the Making section).

Making:

A lot of things. I've been crocheting in my downtime to relax, but I might have flown a little too close to the sun in that department- I ended up hurting my thumb. I think it's because of the crochet hooks I was using; I'm looking into getting some ergonomic hooks, but unfortunately I think I just need to take an extended break from crochet for now while my thumb heals. One silver lining is the fact that I hurt the thumb on my non-dominant hand, so it hasn't affected my ability to draw at all. On the topic of drawing:

I updated my ask blog! I've fallen into a rhythm of posting approximately once a week, which was unintentional, but seems to work well for engagement.

I've got 5 answers in my drafts, all in various states of completion, with 12 more in my inbox. I'd like to answer them all eventually, but I still need to draw things for some, and come up with answers for others. Some of my answers are also quite lengthy, and I need to proofread those. I'm not at a point where I need to close the askbox, but if questions continue to come in faster than I can answer them, I might need to do it, haha. I'm having a lot of fun answering them, though.

In other news: ARTFIGHT. I'm working on an attack right now that I got a little carried away with, hopefully I should be done with it by tomorrow?? I hope??

Also. I recieved SIX attacks in quick succession this week?? Hello??? I'm incredibly honored, especially since this is my first artfight and I wasn't expecting to be attacked by this many people. I really want to revenge everyone who attacked me, but considering the speed at which I draw, I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it before the event ends. I'll try my best, even if it means some revenges will get posted after the event concludes. I don't care about points anyway, lol.

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July continues to be an extremely busy month for me. Even so, work has been going well, and I'm getting a lot of creative things done, so I feel fulfilled in that regard. I'll check in again next week.